Martha Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth had the type of rapport in which
the slightest glance gave each other warning of the current mood of one
Thomas Wayne. Alfred's subtle glance spoke volumes to Martha after
returning from her meeting with the garden society. She just shook her
head and went off in search of her brooding husband. It wasn't long before
she found him in the study, sitting in the dark and staring at a picture of
Bruce as a child.
"I take it your little 'conversation' did not go well?" She said, sitting on the brown leather couch and patting the seat next to her.
Thomas was resigned to join her and he recounted the past night's events as well as Bruce's departure from his studies at Stamford. Martha listened attentively to her husband, trying to keep a smile off her face as the story sounded so familiar to the one of his own youth. After he finished, he laid his head on her shoulder and sighed.
"Remember when Brucie was five?"
"Such a handful." Martha laughed. "So full of curiosity."
"He used to beg me to take him to the clinic. He had so many questions." Thomas remembered wistfully.
"He was young Tommy." Martha soothed. "We knew there would come a day when he wouldn't see us as the center of the universe anymore." She said. Her eyes grew distant with a recollection and then she began to laugh.
"What is it?" Thomas asked.
"Remember when I wanted Bruce to become an opera singer?"
Thomas grinned with the memory. Martha had been adamant about Bruce having vocal talent. She would personally cart him off to lessons three times a week and even pushed him to join Gotham Academy's boy's choir.
"He tried so hard." Martha said in between giggles.
Thomas nodded, tears streaming from his eyes because he was laughing so hard. "He could not sing if his life depended on it. They had to stick him as far away from the microphones as possible."
Martha calmed down and patted her husband's knee. "See.I gave up my dream for young Brucie. Why can't you?"
Thomas became serious once again. "He's a special kid. I just want him to excel."
"Then let him.in his own way. He is too stubborn to conform Thomas. He's just like you."
Thomas smiled and gave his wife a kiss. They both leaned back in each other's arms and remembered a time when life was simpler and they were the ones in control. Martha suddenly sat up in the realization that she had yet to see her son.
"Where is Bruce?"
"He walked out." Thomas answered wearily. "But I can guess where he is."
"I think she's good for him. He's so shy."
"She's so young." Thomas countered in disapproval.
Martha narrowed her eyes. "There is a four-year difference Mr. Wayne." She said pointedly. "From what I recall that is two years less than the difference between you and I." She stood and pulled him up. "Now come on, let's go beg Alfred for some dinner. Maybe he made his double chocolate fudge chip cookies."
Before being pulled to the kitchen by Martha, Thomas took one parting look out the window, wondering what sort of mischief his son has gotten himself into. **** With a final gasp of satisfaction, Bruce rested his head on his companion's collarbone, softly kissing the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder. She ran her fingers idly through his thick black hair until he rolled off and gathered her lovingly in his arms.
"Well that was a nice 'hey and hello'." Barbara giggled breathlessly, pushing a lock of red hair out of her face.
"I said hi." Bruce argued and then furrowed his brow, trying to remember. "Didn't I?"
Barbara shook her head with a grin. "Not unless you count pulling my shirt off and dragging me to the bedroom before the door was practically closed."
"Sorry." Bruce said sheepishly. "I guess I was a little anxious."
Barbara rolled on her side and propped her head up in her hand. "So, you're home three seconds and you've already made a visit to the girl you left behind." She recounted and then a wicked grin spread across her face. "Your dad found out about Stamford, huh?"
Bruce rolled his eyes. "He wasn't too happy. That little vein popped out in his forehead twice."
"I'd be mad too if my kid quit college and didn't bother to tell anyone."
"He would have been just as made then as he is now."
"And what did he say about crime school?" She asked.
"We didn't exactly get that far." He said quietly. Barbara Gordon gave her boyfriend an incredulous stare. "Bruce, you've been going to classes for criminology since winter semester at the community college. You're telling me the man doesn't know?"
"He doesn't want to know. He just wants me to stay his little boy forever. I'm telling you, the man would flip if he heard I'm working on a criminology degree at community college no less."
"Something tells me your dad isn't that snobbish. But anyway, you have to tell him. I mean you've poured your heart and soul into this degree."
Bruce sighed. "He's not going to let me go to anything but med school. He's already ordered me to stay the summer and make up the classes at Gotham U'."
"Just explain nicely that you, like him, don't want to go into the family business." Barbara reasoned.
"And watch as his head explodes." Bruce added wearily. "He's already threatened to take away my trust fund. Imagine if he really starts to get creative."
"Oh poor baby." Barbara mocked. She is the adoptive daughter of a police lieutenant and is going to school on scholarship while her best friend is bound for a 200 million-dollar trust fund when he turns 25. She just didn't feel bad for the guy.
"If dad disowns me can I live with you?" Bruce asked with a hopeful grin.
"No." She giggled. "You'd eat all my cereal. Besides, your dad doesn't like me very much."
"He doesn't like me very much either." Bruce tried to sound pitiful but could not help but laugh.
"Seriously, talk to him. Tell him what he needs to know so he'll stop worrying." She said, kissing his cheek.
Bruce gave her a weak smile and pulled her into his arms where they both fell into a deep sleep.
"I take it your little 'conversation' did not go well?" She said, sitting on the brown leather couch and patting the seat next to her.
Thomas was resigned to join her and he recounted the past night's events as well as Bruce's departure from his studies at Stamford. Martha listened attentively to her husband, trying to keep a smile off her face as the story sounded so familiar to the one of his own youth. After he finished, he laid his head on her shoulder and sighed.
"Remember when Brucie was five?"
"Such a handful." Martha laughed. "So full of curiosity."
"He used to beg me to take him to the clinic. He had so many questions." Thomas remembered wistfully.
"He was young Tommy." Martha soothed. "We knew there would come a day when he wouldn't see us as the center of the universe anymore." She said. Her eyes grew distant with a recollection and then she began to laugh.
"What is it?" Thomas asked.
"Remember when I wanted Bruce to become an opera singer?"
Thomas grinned with the memory. Martha had been adamant about Bruce having vocal talent. She would personally cart him off to lessons three times a week and even pushed him to join Gotham Academy's boy's choir.
"He tried so hard." Martha said in between giggles.
Thomas nodded, tears streaming from his eyes because he was laughing so hard. "He could not sing if his life depended on it. They had to stick him as far away from the microphones as possible."
Martha calmed down and patted her husband's knee. "See.I gave up my dream for young Brucie. Why can't you?"
Thomas became serious once again. "He's a special kid. I just want him to excel."
"Then let him.in his own way. He is too stubborn to conform Thomas. He's just like you."
Thomas smiled and gave his wife a kiss. They both leaned back in each other's arms and remembered a time when life was simpler and they were the ones in control. Martha suddenly sat up in the realization that she had yet to see her son.
"Where is Bruce?"
"He walked out." Thomas answered wearily. "But I can guess where he is."
"I think she's good for him. He's so shy."
"She's so young." Thomas countered in disapproval.
Martha narrowed her eyes. "There is a four-year difference Mr. Wayne." She said pointedly. "From what I recall that is two years less than the difference between you and I." She stood and pulled him up. "Now come on, let's go beg Alfred for some dinner. Maybe he made his double chocolate fudge chip cookies."
Before being pulled to the kitchen by Martha, Thomas took one parting look out the window, wondering what sort of mischief his son has gotten himself into. **** With a final gasp of satisfaction, Bruce rested his head on his companion's collarbone, softly kissing the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder. She ran her fingers idly through his thick black hair until he rolled off and gathered her lovingly in his arms.
"Well that was a nice 'hey and hello'." Barbara giggled breathlessly, pushing a lock of red hair out of her face.
"I said hi." Bruce argued and then furrowed his brow, trying to remember. "Didn't I?"
Barbara shook her head with a grin. "Not unless you count pulling my shirt off and dragging me to the bedroom before the door was practically closed."
"Sorry." Bruce said sheepishly. "I guess I was a little anxious."
Barbara rolled on her side and propped her head up in her hand. "So, you're home three seconds and you've already made a visit to the girl you left behind." She recounted and then a wicked grin spread across her face. "Your dad found out about Stamford, huh?"
Bruce rolled his eyes. "He wasn't too happy. That little vein popped out in his forehead twice."
"I'd be mad too if my kid quit college and didn't bother to tell anyone."
"He would have been just as made then as he is now."
"And what did he say about crime school?" She asked.
"We didn't exactly get that far." He said quietly. Barbara Gordon gave her boyfriend an incredulous stare. "Bruce, you've been going to classes for criminology since winter semester at the community college. You're telling me the man doesn't know?"
"He doesn't want to know. He just wants me to stay his little boy forever. I'm telling you, the man would flip if he heard I'm working on a criminology degree at community college no less."
"Something tells me your dad isn't that snobbish. But anyway, you have to tell him. I mean you've poured your heart and soul into this degree."
Bruce sighed. "He's not going to let me go to anything but med school. He's already ordered me to stay the summer and make up the classes at Gotham U'."
"Just explain nicely that you, like him, don't want to go into the family business." Barbara reasoned.
"And watch as his head explodes." Bruce added wearily. "He's already threatened to take away my trust fund. Imagine if he really starts to get creative."
"Oh poor baby." Barbara mocked. She is the adoptive daughter of a police lieutenant and is going to school on scholarship while her best friend is bound for a 200 million-dollar trust fund when he turns 25. She just didn't feel bad for the guy.
"If dad disowns me can I live with you?" Bruce asked with a hopeful grin.
"No." She giggled. "You'd eat all my cereal. Besides, your dad doesn't like me very much."
"He doesn't like me very much either." Bruce tried to sound pitiful but could not help but laugh.
"Seriously, talk to him. Tell him what he needs to know so he'll stop worrying." She said, kissing his cheek.
Bruce gave her a weak smile and pulled her into his arms where they both fell into a deep sleep.