Alfred smiled as his ten-year-old charge bounced down the stairs. "Are you ready for the day, young sir?"

"Yup! But…" Dick paused, his face growing pensive. "Shouldn't I stay here with Bruce?"

"He's still abed, is he not?" It was usually the billionaire's preference to try and sleep off his rare colds, which was why Alfred was willing to leave him home alone in order to attend to his usual Wednesday errand. "Even if he were awake, I'm sure he wouldn't want you to skip our outing. He knows you enjoy going to the farmer's market very much." You like it more than I do, perhaps, he thought, and that is saying something.

"I know, but-"

"He's right, kiddo," a raspy voice broke in. Both Alfred and Dick turned to find Bruce descending with his bathrobe wrapped tightly around himself as if he were chilled. When he reached the bottom he stopped, blinked at them for several seconds, and then frowned. "…Is that a paisley tie, Alfred?"

"It is indeed, sir," he replied, not surprised at the other man's reaction. Short of late-night emergencies that came up when he was already clad for bed he rarely allowed himself to be seen in anything other than his standard butler's uniform, even by those nearest and dearest to him. The only exception was the boy, who saw him in his more casual duds every Wednesday during the summer months. "You'll notice I've also shed my jacket, put on a less formal pair of trousers than is the norm, and combed my hair differently."

"It's his disguise," Dick explained as he skipped over to his guardian and wrapped his arms around his waist in a good-morning hug.

"Disguise?" Bruce's hand fell to cup the back of the child's head. "What does he need a disguise for?"

"It keeps the paparazzi away. They're so used to seeing him in his regular clothes that they just look right past him when he's dressed like this. Sometimes they look at me funny, like they sort of recognize me, but then when they don't see you or normal Alfred they usually go away without trying to take pictures. It's a neat trick."

"Yeah?" The billionaire's lips quirked upwards for the first time in two days. "So this is what you do while I'm at work, huh? You go out and play mind games with the vultures?"

"Well…yeah. But we're not being mean about it, Bruce," the boy insisted. "Honest. It's just…it's hard to shop when they keep following you around. They suck all of the fun out of it."

"I know. They're good at that. But it sounds to me like you've got their number."

"We've certainly managed to pull the wool over their eyes," Alfred agreed. He grimaced as he recalled their very first trip to the farmer's market the summer before. Unable to leave Dick by himself in a strange house and thinking that the public and genial atmosphere of the event might be welcome to a child who had only just been parted from a life spent entirely in the circus, he had taken him along to pick up fresh produce. His theory had proven correct, at least initially, as the boy had laughed and scampered about, helping to choose squash and lettuce and a dozen other items. It had taken only one professional with a camera and an in-your-face attitude to wipe the joy from his expression, however, and the butler had nearly lost control of his tongue as a result.

It had seemed that the experiment was dead until it had occurred to him that Dick had likely not been the more recognizable of the two of them. When he'd proposed that they try again the next week, this time with him in a less conspicuous costume, his young charge had been understandably hesitant. Eventually he had steeled his courage, though, and the trip had gone off without a hitch. Every summer Wednesday since had seen them make their foray into town together, and not once after that first time had anyone snapped a picture of them at the market.

"I bet you'll do it again today, too." Bruce said now. He squeezed the child against him for a moment, then urged him gently towards Alfred. "But you can't do that if you're still here."

"But…" Dick hesitated halfway between them and turned back. "You're home sick from work. Don't…don't you want company? I don't want to leave you all alone when you're sick. It'll be boring for you. Maybe I should stay here."

"Chum, all I'm going to do is go back upstairs and go to sleep. If you stay here, you're the one who will be bored. So go with Alfred and have fun. This way when you get back you'll have all sorts of things to tell me about to keep me entertained. Okay?"

"…I guess when you put it that way, it makes sense."

Alfred sent an appreciative glance over the boy's head. It wouldn't have shocked him had Bruce taken Dick up on his offer to stay, since cuddling with the youth seemed to be something of a panacea for the billionaire. Still, Wednesday markets were quickly becoming a summer tradition, and he hated the idea of going to one alone. "Come along if you're ready, then, Master Dick," he beckoned. "I'd like to get there before they run out of radishes again as they did last week."

"Okay. We'll bring you something to make you feel better, Bruce!"

"Okay, kiddo," the younger man chuckled croupily. "Have fun."

"Bye!"

Alfred waved the boy out the door past him, then turned back into the house as he heard his name. "My apologies, sir. Do you require anything before I leave?"

"No," Bruce shook his head. "I just wanted to say that if he sees something he likes today, a toy or whatever…get it for him, would you?"

"Certainly. Is there anything else?"

"No. Just that. And make sure he has fun."

He didn't think that would be a problem, but he nodded anyway. "Of course. Feel better, sir; we'll see you in a few hours."

"Right. See you later."

Between the delay in their departure and a patch of unusually thick mid-day traffic, they didn't end up parking near the market square until nearly two o'clock. After feeding the meter to its two-hour maximum, Alfred bent back into the car to wake his shopping companion. "Master Dick?" he breathed quietly in case the people passing on the sidewalk overheard his address.

"Mmhmm…?"

"We're at the market, young sir."

"Huh? Oh!" The boy's eyes flew open. "…Did I fall asleep?"

"Yes," he answered, amused. "I believe you went out around the time we stopped for the construction work. We're here now, however; shall we get going?"

"Sure!" Slipping out of the car, Dick stretched and gave him a sleepy grin. "I'm excited. I love market days."

"They are very enjoyable, I agree. Shut the door, now, and let's cross the street. It's very busy, I had to park on the opposite side."

He hated leading the child across this particular byway, which was one of Gotham's busiest. The road was too wide and the light too short, in his opinion, for there to not be a pedestrian bridge. As if that wasn't enough, the city's drivers weren't known for their strict adherence to traffic laws. More than one person was struck in this district per week on average, and he shuddered to think of what he would do if the lithe little figure trotting at his side was ever factored into that number.

Fortunately they made it to the opposite sidewalk without incident, and he allowed the boy's hand to slip from his grasp. Dick was permitted to wander within sight inside of the traffic-free park, but he rarely went far, and today was no exception. "Should we look for radishes first?" the youth craned his neck upward to ask as they started down the first row of vendors. "You said you wanted those."

"I did. I rather doubt there will be any left, but we may as well try. There are other things we need in that general vicinity in any case."

They shopped for an hour or so, moving through the aisles and slowly filling up their cloth-sided bags. "Ooh, look!" Dick tugged on his sleeve in a sudden burst of excitement. "It's a tea shop!"

"...So it is," he nodded once he'd turned to look. "It must be new. I can't imagine us walking past it had it been here before." Tall shelves laden with bags and canisters of leaves towered over the petite vendor, who was manning both the cash box and several sweating pitchers of iced liquid. Squinting to read the labels, an idea struck him. "It's a bit early," he remarked, "but would you care to take our tea here in the park?"

"Could we?!"

There was so much excitement in Dick's answer that he couldn't have said no if he'd wanted to. "Of course. Let's go and see what's on offer, hmm?"

After a little hemming and hawing over whether they ought to choose different flavors so that they might try two in one afternoon, they both ordered the pale coconut-green blend. As he was paying for their drinks Alfred spotted a plate of fresh almond cookies behind the register, which an inquiry revealed to be for sale. He added a few to the bill, and a minute later they were strolling away towards a wide, green expanse of grass on which several families were already reclining.

His charge bounced ahead towards a low brick wall. "Can we sit here?" he called over his shoulder.

"I don't see why not." It was preferable to sitting on the ground, at least in his opinion, and since there were no picnic tables open it would have to suffice. "Be careful not to spill your drink."

But Dick was already perched atop the barrier and sipping at his tea. "Mmm," he sighed as Alfred sat down beside him. "So good."

"Is it?" He took a drink of his own serving and had to agree. The cold liquid was heavy enough to cut through the dust that inevitably built up in one's mouth on a hot day, but managed to avoid cloying the palate the way so many flavored beverages tended to. "You're right. This was an excellent substitute for our usual teatime, I think. On that note, take these," he bade, pulling the napkin-wrapped cookies from his pocket. "You may as well have a snack with your tea, don't you think?"

Dick, who hadn't seen him buying the baked goods, gave a squeak of delight. "Yay! You're the best, Alfred," he sighed. He leaned his head against the butler's arm for a moment. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome," the man answered with an uncharacteristically wistful smile. It was pleasant, he mused, to sit in the sun-dappled shade like this, with a cool drink in his hand and the boy humming at his side. In this instant he could allow – nay, he was required to allow, thanks to the paparazzi – all of his usual pretenses of servitude fall away. He was not out with his employer's child on errand, but was instead enjoying a carefree afternoon with the youth who was as good as his own grandson. He knew that the moment had to pass, as all moments do, but he had rarely wished so fervently that he could stop time.

As if he had read his mind, Dick spoke. "Could we make this our teatime every Wednesday, d'you think?" he asked, kicking his feet idly.

I ought to tell him to stop banging his heels against the brick, Alfred pondered. I'll have to clean his trainers again when we get home if he keeps going... "Hmm," he said instead. "I don't see why not, at least so long as the weather is good."

"Hooray!"

"Hooray, indeed," he agreed. "Now eat up. It's getting late, and you don't want to spoil your dinner." Every summer Wednesday spent like this, he bit back a broad grin. I could hardly refuse such a wonderful suggestion, dear boy. Surely you knew as much...

Whether Dick had been aware of the irresistible nature of his request or not was a question that flew out of the butler's head a minute later when a pair of children ran past trailing a kite. "Ooh," an intrigued coo came from the vicinity of his elbow. "That's neat."

"...You haven't a kite of your own, have you?" Alfred frowned. "I don't believe we've ever gotten you one."

"Huh-uh. I've never had one. Well...that's not really true. Dad tried to make one for me once, but...well, he tried really hard, and mom said that that was what counted."

"I take it that it wasn't quite as graceful in the air as its maker?"

"Um...no. It really wasn't."

"Ah. Well, as your mother said, the effort that I'm sure was put into the project matters a great deal. However, that doesn't mean that you shouldn't have a chance to see what a more...shall we say aerodynamic?...kite can do." Master Wayne said to buy you a present, after all, and I can hardly think of a more fitting one.

"Really? That would be so cool! But...where can we get a kite? We'd have to go to a store or something, wouldn't we?"

"No," Alfred shook his head. "I'm quite certain that I glimpsed a tent selling them on our way in. It simply didn't occur to me at the time that you don't already have one. If you're finished with your snack, we should still be able to find it before they close up for the day. Would you like to try?"

"Yes, please!" Dick leaped from his seat and did a series of perfect cartwheels, sheer joy radiating from his entire being. "...This is the best market day ever."

"It is a very good one, indeed," he concurred, rising. Across the field a man with a camera around his neck seemed to be watching them with narrowed eyes. Paparazzi, an acid-tinged thought made his lips tighten. Perhaps I ought to warn the young sir... But the poor child had already dealt with so many invasive photographers that he desisted after a moment's thought. No. I will not allow you to ruin such a lovely day, and you certainly shan't take away the promise I just made in regards to Wednesday teatime. The imminent closure of the market was reason enough to hurry along; Dick need never know that someone might suspect their true identities.

"...Alfred?"

He glanced down and found himself the subject of a curious stare. "Come along, then," he hustled his charge away with a disarming twitch of his mouth. "Let's conduct our search and then get on our way home. I daresay there's someone waiting for you there who will be quite eager to hear about your day..."

When they stepped into the foyer an hour and a half later, Alfred would have sworn that Bruce hadn't moved during their absence. Oh, you miserable scamp, he bemoaned, arching an eyebrow at him. Have you truly been waiting all this time for him to return? He understood the younger man's desire to be with the child, but really, he ought to have at least had a blanket...

Dick didn't seem to notice that his guardian was sitting on the same step they'd left him standing on much earlier in the afternoon. He simply flew to him, a happy smile on his face and a long, thin box clutched in one hand. "Bruce! I have so much to tell you!"

"Oof," the billionaire puffed as he accepted a rather violent hug. Rather than complain, he pulled the boy down onto the stairs beside him. "Yeah? Tell me about it. What's in the box?"

"It's a kite! Alfred got it for me cause I'd never had one, and look! It's got a tail and everything, see?"

"A kite, huh?" From the sound of his voice he'd been as good about taking his medicine as he had been about going back to bed. "...I can't believe we didn't think to get you one of those before now. You know...I used to be a pretty good hand with a kite myself."

Alfred nearly dropped the eggs he'd purchased. How did I forget that?! he berated himself. As a boy obsessed with solitary pursuits, Bruce had made himself an expert kite-flier in the summers after his parents' deaths. His passion for the art had tapered off once he'd been introduced to model aircraft piloting, but kites had been one of the few things that had been able to bring a faint smile to his forlorn face during those first few years of orphanhood. Good lord, I'm showing my age if I've begun dropping memories such as those...

Fortunately Dick's voice distracted him from his disbelief. "D'you think you could teach me? Please? I bet you're the best in the whole world at it."

Bruce chuckled. "Well...maybe not in the whole world. I'm probably pretty rusty, to be honest; it's been a while." There was a reminiscent note in his voice that the butler didn't fail to pick up on. "But as soon as Alfred lets me out of the house, we'll see just how much a remember. Sound good?"

"Yes! But...Alfred, when will you let Bruce outside again?"

"When he's no longer ill, young sir, I will be happy to let Master Wayne wander about the grounds at his leisure," he assured. "But the more time he spends sitting on the stairs rather than in bed where he ought to be is more time it will take for him to get well."

"Oh! Well...you should go to bed, then, Bruce! You need to get better fast so we can fly kites!"

"Are you going to come upstairs with me?"

"I have to put my kite away in my room, but...I'm not really tired."

"Yeah? What if we watch TV instead? You can tell me about the market during the commercials."

"Ooh...TV in bed?" Dick sounded both intrigued and hesitant. "...You're not going to watch the news, are you? That's kind of boring sometimes."

"We'll find some cartoons, or a movie or something. How about that?"

"Okay! Let's go!" The child flew halfway up the stairs, then paused and turned back. "Alfred? Can I put pajamas on, since I'm going to be in bed?"

"Oh, I don't see why not, young sir," he acquiesced easily. An odd urge hit him suddenly, and he went with it. "If you're both going to be curled up in bed in any case, I may as well serve you dinner there. I assume that acceptable, Master Wayne?" It was rare that he offered such a treat, and neither of them was sick enough to really warrant an exception to the usual dining room rule, but it had been such a happy afternoon that he hated to cut it short with decorum.

"If I ever complain about being served meals in bed, Alfred, you have my permission to smack sense back into me."

"Duly noted, sir," he nodded, holding back a smirk. "I will see you both before too long, then. But Master Dick?"

Dick, who had now reached the second-floor landing and was about to vanish down the hall with his kite tucked under one arm, stopped. "Yes, Alfred?"

"We are still set on the same teatime next Wednesday, yes?" Say yes, he pleaded silently. Today was lovely, so please...say yes.

"Of course!" He gave a happy sigh. "I wish every day was market day..." And then he was gone, skipping away in his pursuit of pajamas and television time.

Bruce pulled himself to his feet and prepared to go after him. "...Hey, Alfred?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Damn good choice of present."

"Thank you. It was his idea, but I did work to steer him towards a sturdier, more professional-grade option." A beat passed. "Perhaps I ought to see about digging out your old array from upstairs, hmm? He might enjoy them as much as you once did."

An uptick of the sort that the butler hadn't seen in many years – his kite smile, if memory served – appeared on the billionaire's lips. "You do that, Alfred," he nodded. "I'd, uh...I'd appreciate it."

"...So shall I, my boy," Alfred whispered once both of his charges were out of sight. The thought of seeing the pair of them laughing over something that had once brought Bruce a few precious moments of joy...if that was the sort of gift that market teatimes were likely to bring, then he could hardly wait to know what next week's would yield.

Author's Note: Check out my blog if you're curious as to what tea Alfred and Dick were drinking. It's one of my personal favorites, and very easy to make at home.