***DC Comics owns all Batman related characters, I own nothing...I don't even own a car!!
(This takes place after the Officer Down Series)
Tale of a Domestic Dropout
By Terri
Bruce awoke to the loud sound of an alarm beeping steadily into his ear. He wanted to rip the alarm out of the wall and throw it but after losing three that way he knew better. On the brighter side, the alarm had something that Alfred never did, a snooze button. By 9:30 Bruce could no longer stand the annoying beeping and he rolled out of bed, half dead from the night before. He limped stiffly into the bathroom where he had to open his eyes to work the shower. Bruce shaved and brushed his teeth as the shower warmed. He liked to take long showers with the water massaging all his aching joints. He put his body through a lot so a long shower was just one luxury that he owed himself. It also gave him exactly ten more minutes to sleep as he laid his head against the wall.
With a towel wrapped around his midsection he walked into his adjoining closet to find something to wear. Saturdays were strange for Bruce because he didn't have to work at the office but people tended to show up at his door so he still had to look and act like Bruce Wayne-especially since Alfred wasn't around to answer the door and send people away. Bruce picked out a pair of khaki pants and a black t-shirt after realizing that he desperately needed to do laundry. He put on some shoes, combed through his thick hair and headed downstairs laundry basket in tow.
Bruce had to admit; he had never gotten the hang of cooking, cleaning, and all that stuff. Perhaps Alfred spoiled him in that area though the old man did try to teach him. Alfred was never one to lose his patience but there were several moments he had to go out in back and scream his lungs out after Bruce would accidentally start the kitchen on fire after trying to make pasta or ruin several of his best school shirts after trying to iron them. Bruce lived up to his public reputation when put in the kitchen.
Bruce was standing in the laundry room apparently studying the washer when Dick came downstairs. He was in Gotham this weekend working on an extortion ring that had been swallowing up Bludhaven. Dick leaned against the doorframe, a wide grin on his face. He enjoyed watching his mentor utterly perplexed with the simplest things.
"Do you want some help?" He finally asked.
"Shh." Bruce said. "I'm busy."
"Bruce you're going to have to put the stuff in the washer, it won't go in there by itself."
"I know...go do something useful." He snapped.
"But this is so fun....Finally something I can do better than the great Batman!" Dick's grin was priceless.
"Don't bring Batman into this." Bruce said, trying to conceal the smile forming. After the red sock incident of 1985, he knew enough to separate his lights from the darks. It took him great pains but he got everything in order and he started the machine with a satisfied sigh when it did not blow up.
"Ahem!" Dick said. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Bruce just stared at him blankly as if his total brain had been sucked out and was being cleaned along with the rest of his clothes.
"Soap." Dick answered. Bruce closed his eyes with a labored sigh. It took him a few minutes to stop the machines again and put in soap. The last time he attempted to do laundry he had to outrun a mountain of soapsuds that far outweighed the dangers of the battling the Joker. Since then he followed strict orders never to put in more than a capful. Dick just shook his head and laughed. Bruce was in a fairly good mood so he kept his choice comments to a mumble as he headed into the kitchen.
"So how's cooking going?"
"You know I'm not allowed to use the stove." Bruce said only half-joking. He pulled out a box of Cheerios and offered some to Dick.
"Well I suppose it's better than take-out every night." They sat at the breakfast table with their bowls of Cheerios and orange juice (Bruce couldn't make edible coffee).
"How's work?" Bruce asked.
"Tiring. This extortion ring has all of us working round the clock and the gangs are acting up so I've been busy lately."
"What about the new recruits they promised."
Dick snorted, "Maybe by the time I retire. They buried the money in paperwork. We're now understaffed and possibly taking a pay cut. It doesn't look good. I might have to take on a second job to support the other two." Dick almost wanted to bang his head on the table. 99.9% of their arguments were based on money and the fact that Dick was too stubborn to accept any.
"If you need help..."
"I know...forget it." Dick answered tightly. "It's not that bad." To his surprise Bruce didn't press any further and instead changed the subject entirely.
"The Rangers are in town this afternoon. Would you like to go?" He forced out.
Dick cocked his head in sheer surprise, "Hockey?"
"Yeah, I have the box that I never use and it would be something different anyway."
"Different? Downright shocking." Dick said. "Yeah let's go. Hey I was going to work on the bike today you want to help?"
"I have to wash the windows." Bruce said quietly.
"Says who?"
"It's the third Saturday of the month."
"I'm impressed, you memorized Alfred's cleaning schedule?"
"I was bored." He shrugged.
Bruce cleaned up the dishes and Dick dried them and put them away. Dick then headed to the garage to work on the dilapidated Vincent Black Knight while Bruce made a plan of attack on the outside windows. He first tried to climb to the high windows and hang on with one arm while washing with the other but after falling into the bushes twice and getting laughed at by Dick he decided that hanging from the rain gutters was a better idea. After about an hour of hanging and washing he collapsed in the garage and watched as Dick was tuning up the engine on the bike.
"So are you ever going to cave and get Alfred back?" Dick asked.
"I've tried. He's not going to cave until I can prove that I can take care of myself."
"Where is he anyway?"
"He has a nice little townhouse in London near Hyde Park."
"Ritzy."
"Yeah well...He deserves it."
"Admit it." Dick said.
"What?"
"You miss him."
"Whatever." Bruce got up and headed back to the house.
"Hey could we invite Babs and Mr. Gordon? Babs said he has been rather bored since he retired."
"Yeah I'll call them." Bruce nodded. He folded his laundry and changed into a pair of jeans and a button down shirt.
Jim was sitting in his chair watching a Gilligan's Island marathon on TV. He was bored to tears. His injuries were almost completely healed and besides physical therapy and the occasional dinner with Barbara he spent most of his time at home. He almost jumped to the sound of the phone.
"Gordon here." He answered anxiously.
"Hi Jim this is Bruce Wayne." Came a bright voice.
"Bruce!" Jim smiled. "It's good to hear from you. How have things been?"
"Great and how's retirement?"
"I'm bored to tears and I think I'm driving my daughter nuts."
Bruce laughed. "Well Dick and I were wondering if you and Barbara would like to go the Rangers game this afternoon."
"Well I don't want to sound too eager but I need to get out of this house." Jim laughed.
"Good we'll pick you up in about an hour."
"Alright see you then."
Jim smiled to himself. There were certain things that he couldn't say out loud but he knew his friends and what kind of people they were. Bruce Wayne was a friend, dare he even say his best friend and ally. He wondered if there would ever be a day when they could be honest about one another. Until then there's just this unsaid understanding between the two nothing more and nothing less. The phone began to ring a few minutes later.
"Gordon" He answered.
"How did you make Bruce feel guilty enough to take us to a hockey game?" Barbara asked in astonishment. Jim smiled.
"No but I'm certainly not complaining. You're coming I hope...Dick's in town."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.
"Nothing you two just make a cute couple."
"Been there done that. He's just a friend dad. Yeah they're going to pick me up and swing by your place."
"Ok see you then."
"Absolutely not." Bruce said defiantly.
"Number one this is the only car that has enough room for all of us and Bab's wheelchair and secondly YOU taught me how to drive so I think I can handle it."
"Like you handled the bat car?" Bruce mumbled.
"Don't even get Batman involved in this." Dick mocked him.
Defeated, Bruce got into the passenger seat of the car and tried to think happy thoughts as Dick peeled out of the driveway and onto the road. It was a nice Saturday and Dick insisted on driving with the top down so Bruce put on his sunglasses and just enjoyed the afternoon. Barbara was already waiting on the sidewalk outside her building as Dick drove up. Bruce helped her into the passenger seat and jumped into the back.
"So what's up Bruce?"
"Hmm?" He said innocently.
"Let me guess, you sold your soul to Satan or maybe Sally Struthers." Bruce just stared at her confused. One of these days she would have to improve his grasp of pop culture, after all, he had dated most of the premiere actresses of the decade yet has never actually watched any of their movies.
"What's with the extracurricular activities?"
"I just thought it would be nice to catch a game." Bruce shrugged.
"And however did you convince him to let you drive?" Babs asked Dick.
Dick gave his award winning smile, one of the few lessons that Bruce taught him that didn't involve a major nosebleed. "What can I say...He trusts me."
Bruce snorted and mumbled something under his breath.
"What?" Dick asked sternly.
"Nothing." Bruce answered sullenly.
"That's what I thought." Dick answered before cranking up the radio. They headed to James Gordon's house for what was proving already to be an interesting adventure.
(This takes place after the Officer Down Series)
Tale of a Domestic Dropout
By Terri
Bruce awoke to the loud sound of an alarm beeping steadily into his ear. He wanted to rip the alarm out of the wall and throw it but after losing three that way he knew better. On the brighter side, the alarm had something that Alfred never did, a snooze button. By 9:30 Bruce could no longer stand the annoying beeping and he rolled out of bed, half dead from the night before. He limped stiffly into the bathroom where he had to open his eyes to work the shower. Bruce shaved and brushed his teeth as the shower warmed. He liked to take long showers with the water massaging all his aching joints. He put his body through a lot so a long shower was just one luxury that he owed himself. It also gave him exactly ten more minutes to sleep as he laid his head against the wall.
With a towel wrapped around his midsection he walked into his adjoining closet to find something to wear. Saturdays were strange for Bruce because he didn't have to work at the office but people tended to show up at his door so he still had to look and act like Bruce Wayne-especially since Alfred wasn't around to answer the door and send people away. Bruce picked out a pair of khaki pants and a black t-shirt after realizing that he desperately needed to do laundry. He put on some shoes, combed through his thick hair and headed downstairs laundry basket in tow.
Bruce had to admit; he had never gotten the hang of cooking, cleaning, and all that stuff. Perhaps Alfred spoiled him in that area though the old man did try to teach him. Alfred was never one to lose his patience but there were several moments he had to go out in back and scream his lungs out after Bruce would accidentally start the kitchen on fire after trying to make pasta or ruin several of his best school shirts after trying to iron them. Bruce lived up to his public reputation when put in the kitchen.
Bruce was standing in the laundry room apparently studying the washer when Dick came downstairs. He was in Gotham this weekend working on an extortion ring that had been swallowing up Bludhaven. Dick leaned against the doorframe, a wide grin on his face. He enjoyed watching his mentor utterly perplexed with the simplest things.
"Do you want some help?" He finally asked.
"Shh." Bruce said. "I'm busy."
"Bruce you're going to have to put the stuff in the washer, it won't go in there by itself."
"I know...go do something useful." He snapped.
"But this is so fun....Finally something I can do better than the great Batman!" Dick's grin was priceless.
"Don't bring Batman into this." Bruce said, trying to conceal the smile forming. After the red sock incident of 1985, he knew enough to separate his lights from the darks. It took him great pains but he got everything in order and he started the machine with a satisfied sigh when it did not blow up.
"Ahem!" Dick said. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Bruce just stared at him blankly as if his total brain had been sucked out and was being cleaned along with the rest of his clothes.
"Soap." Dick answered. Bruce closed his eyes with a labored sigh. It took him a few minutes to stop the machines again and put in soap. The last time he attempted to do laundry he had to outrun a mountain of soapsuds that far outweighed the dangers of the battling the Joker. Since then he followed strict orders never to put in more than a capful. Dick just shook his head and laughed. Bruce was in a fairly good mood so he kept his choice comments to a mumble as he headed into the kitchen.
"So how's cooking going?"
"You know I'm not allowed to use the stove." Bruce said only half-joking. He pulled out a box of Cheerios and offered some to Dick.
"Well I suppose it's better than take-out every night." They sat at the breakfast table with their bowls of Cheerios and orange juice (Bruce couldn't make edible coffee).
"How's work?" Bruce asked.
"Tiring. This extortion ring has all of us working round the clock and the gangs are acting up so I've been busy lately."
"What about the new recruits they promised."
Dick snorted, "Maybe by the time I retire. They buried the money in paperwork. We're now understaffed and possibly taking a pay cut. It doesn't look good. I might have to take on a second job to support the other two." Dick almost wanted to bang his head on the table. 99.9% of their arguments were based on money and the fact that Dick was too stubborn to accept any.
"If you need help..."
"I know...forget it." Dick answered tightly. "It's not that bad." To his surprise Bruce didn't press any further and instead changed the subject entirely.
"The Rangers are in town this afternoon. Would you like to go?" He forced out.
Dick cocked his head in sheer surprise, "Hockey?"
"Yeah, I have the box that I never use and it would be something different anyway."
"Different? Downright shocking." Dick said. "Yeah let's go. Hey I was going to work on the bike today you want to help?"
"I have to wash the windows." Bruce said quietly.
"Says who?"
"It's the third Saturday of the month."
"I'm impressed, you memorized Alfred's cleaning schedule?"
"I was bored." He shrugged.
Bruce cleaned up the dishes and Dick dried them and put them away. Dick then headed to the garage to work on the dilapidated Vincent Black Knight while Bruce made a plan of attack on the outside windows. He first tried to climb to the high windows and hang on with one arm while washing with the other but after falling into the bushes twice and getting laughed at by Dick he decided that hanging from the rain gutters was a better idea. After about an hour of hanging and washing he collapsed in the garage and watched as Dick was tuning up the engine on the bike.
"So are you ever going to cave and get Alfred back?" Dick asked.
"I've tried. He's not going to cave until I can prove that I can take care of myself."
"Where is he anyway?"
"He has a nice little townhouse in London near Hyde Park."
"Ritzy."
"Yeah well...He deserves it."
"Admit it." Dick said.
"What?"
"You miss him."
"Whatever." Bruce got up and headed back to the house.
"Hey could we invite Babs and Mr. Gordon? Babs said he has been rather bored since he retired."
"Yeah I'll call them." Bruce nodded. He folded his laundry and changed into a pair of jeans and a button down shirt.
Jim was sitting in his chair watching a Gilligan's Island marathon on TV. He was bored to tears. His injuries were almost completely healed and besides physical therapy and the occasional dinner with Barbara he spent most of his time at home. He almost jumped to the sound of the phone.
"Gordon here." He answered anxiously.
"Hi Jim this is Bruce Wayne." Came a bright voice.
"Bruce!" Jim smiled. "It's good to hear from you. How have things been?"
"Great and how's retirement?"
"I'm bored to tears and I think I'm driving my daughter nuts."
Bruce laughed. "Well Dick and I were wondering if you and Barbara would like to go the Rangers game this afternoon."
"Well I don't want to sound too eager but I need to get out of this house." Jim laughed.
"Good we'll pick you up in about an hour."
"Alright see you then."
Jim smiled to himself. There were certain things that he couldn't say out loud but he knew his friends and what kind of people they were. Bruce Wayne was a friend, dare he even say his best friend and ally. He wondered if there would ever be a day when they could be honest about one another. Until then there's just this unsaid understanding between the two nothing more and nothing less. The phone began to ring a few minutes later.
"Gordon" He answered.
"How did you make Bruce feel guilty enough to take us to a hockey game?" Barbara asked in astonishment. Jim smiled.
"No but I'm certainly not complaining. You're coming I hope...Dick's in town."
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.
"Nothing you two just make a cute couple."
"Been there done that. He's just a friend dad. Yeah they're going to pick me up and swing by your place."
"Ok see you then."
"Absolutely not." Bruce said defiantly.
"Number one this is the only car that has enough room for all of us and Bab's wheelchair and secondly YOU taught me how to drive so I think I can handle it."
"Like you handled the bat car?" Bruce mumbled.
"Don't even get Batman involved in this." Dick mocked him.
Defeated, Bruce got into the passenger seat of the car and tried to think happy thoughts as Dick peeled out of the driveway and onto the road. It was a nice Saturday and Dick insisted on driving with the top down so Bruce put on his sunglasses and just enjoyed the afternoon. Barbara was already waiting on the sidewalk outside her building as Dick drove up. Bruce helped her into the passenger seat and jumped into the back.
"So what's up Bruce?"
"Hmm?" He said innocently.
"Let me guess, you sold your soul to Satan or maybe Sally Struthers." Bruce just stared at her confused. One of these days she would have to improve his grasp of pop culture, after all, he had dated most of the premiere actresses of the decade yet has never actually watched any of their movies.
"What's with the extracurricular activities?"
"I just thought it would be nice to catch a game." Bruce shrugged.
"And however did you convince him to let you drive?" Babs asked Dick.
Dick gave his award winning smile, one of the few lessons that Bruce taught him that didn't involve a major nosebleed. "What can I say...He trusts me."
Bruce snorted and mumbled something under his breath.
"What?" Dick asked sternly.
"Nothing." Bruce answered sullenly.
"That's what I thought." Dick answered before cranking up the radio. They headed to James Gordon's house for what was proving already to be an interesting adventure.