Author's Note: Here's a fun little 'Spark in the Dark' piece just for Valentine's Day. This is set between 'Of Friends and Foes' and 'A Weekend in Bruges'. Happy reading!
"...Master Dick?" Alfred called out as he knocked on the bedroom door. Pushing it open slowly, he peeked inside. "Dinner's nearly- good heavens!"
Dick gave a guilty jerk and swiveled around to face him. "I'll clean it up!" he promised. "I know it's a big mess, but it's for school."
"It is a big mess indeed," Alfred muttered as he took in the damage. Scraps of paper in red, pink, purple, and white littered the floor. The wastebasket was overflowing with failed attempts at whatever project his young charge was working on. Pens and markers and colored pencils were scattered about, as were several different forms of glue. Worst of all to the butler's eyes was the fine coating of glitter that had fallen onto everything in the general vicinity of the desk, Master Dick included. "...What on earth kind of an assignment have you been given?"
"Valentine's Day. I have to have a valentine for everyone in my homeroom for next Friday, so I figured I'd better start early."
"They still mark Valentine's Day in the sixth grade?"
"We voted on it. Well," Dick amended, "the sixth grade student council voted on it. They said we wanted to do Valentine's Day. I don't think any of the other grades are doing it, though. Anyway, the teachers said that if we were going to do it then we had to make sure everyone was included, so..." He shrugged. "So I need to make twenty valentines between now and next Friday."
"I see." He disliked the idea of time being taken out of Master Dick's rather expensive education for something as pointless as Valentine's Day, but at least it sounded like this would be the last year for such things. Besides, being included in the activities would make the boy feel good, and that was worth the loss of twenty or thirty minutes of useful instruction.
Still, though, there was the mess. "I wish you'd mentioned your task, young sir. We might have purchased you a set of cards at the store. They're only a few dollars, you know," he added before the child's aversion of having money spent on him could rear up.
Dick blushed. "I know, but...I wanted to make them. They're more special that way. Plus, it's kind of fun." He paused. "It was okay that I took construction paper and stuff from the wrapping room, right? I should have asked..."
"No harm done, Master Dick, except perhaps to your rug." Alfred knew he'd be finding bits of glitter in the vacuum for years to come after this, but he pushed down the sigh he wanted to release. "Although I would prefer that you ask next time. In any case, how many cards do you have left to make?"
"I'm half done."
"And is all of your other homework complete?"
"Yup!" Dick grinned. "I finished it in the car, like always."
Alfred felt his lips give a proud uptick. Of course the clever little bird had finished his schoolwork in the car; it had been a rather silly question, really. "In that case," he ruled, "you'd best leave your room as it is for tonight and come down to dinner. Master Wayne should be home any moment, and there's no point in you cleaning up when you've more to do tomorrow."
"Really?! I can leave it a mess?"
"In this one instance only, yes."
"Yay! You're the best, Alfred." The boy leaped from his chair and skipped to the door. There he paused and met the man's gaze. "I'm going to make you a Valentine, too," he announced.
The faint lifting at the corners of the butler's mouth spread into a soft smile. "I very much look forward to seeing it, young sir. Very much indeed."
Dick climbed into the car on the following Friday wearing a carefully controlled expression. Seeing it, Alfred frowned. The boy had been so excited when he'd flitted off to class that morning; something must have gone wrong since then. "Good afternoon, Master Dick," he greeted warmly, hoping to chase away whatever melancholy had driven the child to imitate his guardian. "How was your day?"
"It was good," an empty answer came back.
"How many cards did you receive in your exchange this morning?" he pressed.
"Twenty." An almost inaudible sigh escaped him. "...The number I was supposed to get."
"Very good. That's quite a haul, twenty cards." If he hadn't been left out, Alfred puzzled, then what was bothering him? "...Did anyone comment on the cards you gave out?"
"A couple people did."
"I hope they said nice things."
A faint smile finally appeared. "They did. Everybody else had store-bought ones, so I think some people appreciated that I didn't just grab something off of a shelf and copy down the class roster onto them."
"Excellent, young sir," Alfred nodded. "You put a great deal of effort into them, and it showed. Your classmates had every reason to be impressed." Part of him was tempted to keep searching for the root of the boy's protective attitude, but after a moment's consideration he decided to let it go. The stoic mask had faded, and that was enough for now.
It was only when Dick took longer than usual to change out of his school uniform and come back downstairs for a snack that he realized he should have kept digging. "Master Dick?" he queried from the hall. "Are you decent, young sir?"
"...Yeah, Alfred. I'm changed."
He entered the room on that pseudo-invitation, then came to a halt when he spied his charge. The creative mess that had been scattered across the desk a week before was long gone, but in its place was a far more concerning scene. There sat Dick, frowning pensively down at two neat piles of Valentine's Day cards. One of the stacks was a fair bit larger than the other, and as Alfred watched the boy took the top card from it. He read it silently, then tore it in half twice and dropped it into the trash.
"Master Dick, what in the world are you doing?" Alfred breathed gently.
"I..." He ducked his head, shame-faced. "...Everyone gave me a card, like I said, but some of them... some of them aren't so nice."
Impotent rage rose in the butler's stomach. The nerve of other people's bratty offspring, to use a Valentine's Day card as a vehicle for dislike! There was nothing he could do to punish them, of course, but the urge to take revenge for the hurt child in front of him was great nonetheless.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself. "...May I see them, please?" he requested. Reading the hurtful words that had clearly been depressing his charge since the first period of the day wasn't likely to calm his anger, but he wanted to know what sort of foul messages he was dealing with.
"Sure." Dick pushed the pile towards him. "...They're not all bad. Some of them are kind of nice. I don't want to throw those ones away."
"Of course not. I will hand those right back to you for safekeeping." The others, he determined, belonged exactly where Dick had been putting them; in the garbage.
Several of the paperboard slips passed inspection before he came across an unpleasant one. 'No one likes you, you know.' Huffing, he handed it back to its owner. "You may shred that one. It is factually incorrect."
Dick glanced at the message. "...'Factually incorrect'?" he repeated as a faint grin threatened his downcast air.
"Absolutely. That is a complete and utter falsehood. Please destroy it."
"Okay. I can do that."
Next was 'I only gave you this because I had to.' "Oh, this one's very clever," Alfred remarked drily. "I imagine that the author is competing with you for top ranking in the class?"
Dick read it, then smirked. "Not exactly."
"It shows. Get rid of it, please."
"Yup!"
The last of the cards was the worst of all, and Alfred felt his nostrils flare as he read it. 'Do Gypsies even know what Valentine's Day is?' Knowing as he did how offensive his charge considered that label to be, he could well imagine the pain that reading it must have delivered. Deciding that there was no reason for Dick to be subjected to such cruelty yet again today, he shredded the card in his own fingers and let it cascade into the trash can. "...Come here, young sir," he bade when his hands were clean of some small-minded person's prejudices. The boy stood up, and Alfred pulled him into an embrace.
"Thanks for doing that last one," Dick sighed. "That one was just mean. They all know about...about that word, and she used it anyway."
"Ignore them. Ignore all of them that were rude. Forget them; they don't deserve your attention." A beat passed. "You are very loved, Master Dick, no matter what anyone says."
"I won't, Alfred," a muffled promise came.
"Excellent." Loosening his grip, he pushed the youth back to arm's length. "Now, I believe you deserve a snack after that little ordeal. I've made you something special, in respect of the day and your celebration of it."
"What is it?" Dick asked, his eyes widening.
"Truffles. Is that acceptable?"
"...Those are the things you always serve at Bruce's parties, right? The little chocolates?"
"Correct."
"You made them just for me?"
"I did. I set a few aside for Master Wayne as well, of course, but I trust that you don't mind that."
"No. Oh!" Pulling free, Dick turned and opened his desk drawer, revealing two large, bright cards. "Here," he said, holding one out. "I almost forgot."
Alfred's lower lip tried valiantly not to wobble as he read the short missive. 'Alfred, you're the best. Even when I'm in trouble and you have to punish me, I still love you a ton. I don't think you're a big fan of Valentine's Day, but I hope you like this card anyway. Love,
Dick.'
"...Do you like it?" the boy asked anxiously.
The butler met his eager gaze. "It's beautiful, Master Dick," he told him sincerely. "Thank you very much."
The broad, happy smile that he had been searching for since school let out suddenly appeared. "Happy Valentine's Day, Alfred."
"Happy Valentine's Day, young sir." For the first time in many decades, he meant it.