It was the first question Alfred asked after he peeled himself off his bike.
"Master Timothy, why are you covered in—?"
"I lost a bet."
Alfred's eyebrows crept up a fraction of an inch, his only outward reaction to Tim's statement.
"How did—"
"Really don't want to get into it, Alfie," he muttered as he trudged off towards the changing area. "Really, really, don't want to get into it."
"You're covered in honey," Alfred calmly stated. "Or am I mistaken and that is gold paint you are leaving in your wake?"
Tim kept walking, too embarrassed to admit he was, in fact, covered head to foot in ooey, gooey, sticky, and sweet honey.
It wasn't one of his finest moments. Something he was sure the little Demon would remind him about every chance he got. Not that Satan's Spawn would add how he shoved him into those jars of honey.
Tim entered the changing area and started the slow process of peeling his body armor from the honey. If he had any skin left by the time he got everything off would be a miracle.
"I'm going to kill that little... ow!"
A sniff sounded, followed by Alfred saying, "Perhaps it would be wiser to focus on getting off our armor than in making idle threats."
Tim wisely did as Alfred suggested without uttering another word.
A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!
