Title: Life Is Good: VIII
Author: DC Luder
Summary: The second addition in the Series of Three storyline. Se three months after his full recovery, the Dark Knight is back with a vengeance.
Rating: T
Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.
Author's note: This chapter has been modified from its original form.
^V^
Quiet at long last, I mused.
The manor had been unreasonably peaceful of late, the calm of autumn seeping into the household without contest. Wit h their vigilante efforts in low demand, Master Timothy had returned to school full-time at Brentwood, Master Dick had reverted to his responsibilities in Bludhaven and Miss Cassandra frequented the manor, predominantly remaining in the city with Ms. Barbara. That was as long as they weren't called upon by Master Bruce to help in his quest or by Ms. Selina to sit for Miss Mattie.
Leaving myself to watch over his young family.
The twenty-fifth of November, I had risen in the morning thirty minutes early in order to prepare for Thanksgiving dinner. The days prior had been spent tidying the house, polishing silverware and purchasing the necessities for the feast. Given how the Family had spent so much time apart of late, I intended to make their day together as enjoyable as possible. The day of, I had only to take on the culinary endeavors knowing that the great house was spotless.
After treating myself to a cup of tea and eggy-in-a-basket in the breakfast nook, I traveled back upstairs and to the third floor. Given that my oldest charge had returned from patrols not two hours before I had risen for the day, I had decided it was wisest to let him and his bride-to-be to sleep in as late as possible. I opened the nursery door with all intent to change and feed Miss Mattie, taking her on as a sous chef in her rolling walker.
At the very least, she could taste test for me.
The child was already awake, despite the hour, and was quietly mumbling to herself as she shook her stuffed giraffe. When I turned the overhead light on, she looked to me and grinned, cooing in delight.
"Good morning, Miss Mattie."
After changing her into a fresh diaper and dressing her in a comfortable pair of leggings, white socks and a long sleeved shirt the color of pumpkin pie, I hefted the growing toddler into my arms and headed back to the stairs. She giggled quietly before grabbing two tiny handfuls of my sweater and resting her head on my shoulder.
Having already brought her walker from the den, I set her in it gently before pouring a small amount of Cheerios onto the small tray. As she went to work on feeding the tiny bits to herself, I went about preparing her a proper meal for my youngest charge. Given the occasion, I opted to mix up batter for pumpkin pancakes, taking my original scratch recipe and adding just a bit of pureed pumpkin and nutmeg. Only making two tiny pancakes for her, I left the majority of the batter in the bowl until it was time to make breakfast for her parents.
And any other unexpected morning guests.
Ms. Barbara intended on making the trip up to the manor earlier in the day as to help in any fashion she could. I had assured her for the better part of the week that all was in order but she was far from convinced. Given their hectic schedules, I doubted that Master Dick or Tim would make an appearance before noon, but in the chance they arrived for a brunch, I intended to be prepared.
By the time I had diced her pancakes, served vanilla yogurt and prepared small bits of pear, Miss Mattie had eaten every last Cheerios saved for the ones that had fallen from her grasp and landed on the floor. Lifting her from the walker, I carried her, the plate and her Toffler juice box to the breakfast nook. Setting her meal down first, I then went about setting her up in the high chair, quickly giving her the small pieces of food that she would be able to feed herself. Surely one day she would be able to navigate yogurt from a bowl and to her mouth with a utensil, but in the meantime, I would oversee the process.
As I watched the child eat her breakfast, I mentally prepared the remainder of the day. The greatest hurdle would be to prepare the brined turkey that had been soaking over night in nearly two gallons of water, tainted with maple syrup, brown sugar and coarse salt. As a result, the meat that resulted from its accumulated three hours in the oven would still yield moist, tender meat.
The plentiful sides were fairly easy to prepare, simply requiring chopping, peeling, boiling, stirring, baking and plating. Twice baked potatoes, spinach and brie topped artichoke hearts, cranberry relish , candied sweet potatoes, pecan and sausage stuffing as well as the various hors d'oeuvres and desserts… It would be a task to accomplish everything before dinner at three that afternoon, but it certainly was within my abilities.
Just as the automatic coffee maker began emitting the aroma of fresh percolation, Miss Mattie was nearly through eating her yogurt. Given that the entirety of the day would offer her numerous chances to feast, I opted not to force her to finish her breakfast. She was rarely a fussy eater but when she decided to stop eating, it took a certain level of determination to convince her otherwise. The task was often assigned to her father.
Child fed, she was put back in her walker, dutifully trying to follow me around the kitchen as I collected vegetables, utensils, spices and mixing bowls. She craned her tiny head as she tried to watch my efforts at the island counter deftly dicing foodstuffs and setting them in their appropriate groups. The first order of business was to make the appetizers but at the very least, I would be able to prepare all of the ingredients needed for the day ahead of time.
After washing my hands, I found the kitchen clock reading just after eight in the morning. Potatoes peeled, dough rising, bread crumbs soaking in herbs, I had a significant head start on the day. Regrettably, my sous chef had grown tired of playing spectator and desired another brand of entertainment. After a short ride in the elevator, I stepped off onto the third floor corridor of the east wing, toddler in tow.
Not five minutes later, I helped her knock on her parents' bedroom door, smirking as she cooed, "Llloooo?"
Stepping into the master bedroom, Miss Mattie accompanied me to the windows to pull back the curtains, revealing a blistery November morn. Approaching the still figures in the bed, I greeted warmly, "Good morning, sir. Madam."
Ms. Kyle was the first to show signs of life, sitting up in bed slowly while keeping a firm hold on the blankets, "It's freezing."
Master Bruce rolled away from her in the bed, pulling the bedspread with him, "… letting the cold air in…"
I smiled briefly, "The forecast reported a high of thirty-eight degrees."
"Unless it's warmer than seventy with sunshine, it's freezing," Miss Kyle rebutted as she slipped off of the bed ad rose to her feet, "But at least I have someone to keep me warm until then."
I had expected Master Bruce to make a comment but it appeared as if he had taken to hibernation, head buried beneath the blankets. Taking the child from me, I watched on as Ms. Selina kissed both of her daughter's cheeks, hugging her tightly to her chest. "Look at you… all dressed up for today…"
"I presumed that this would do until dinner… I feared for her new dress, quite honestly."
Ms. Selina smiled at me and then looked to Miss Mattie, "Wise decision, Alfred… I can see you getting it dirtied up when your big brother gets here and starts chasing you around the den."
However eager Ms. Kyle was that morning, Master Bruce was the opposite. Despite the reasonably low level of criminal activity of late, he had still dedicated himself to lengthy patrols, bringing up home in the early morning hours as opposed to the late of night. Running on less than a handful of hours of sleep had been a away of life for years but life had changed for him. Rather than catch a quick nap returning home from work, he was with his daughter and fiancée. In place of sleeping in Sunday mornings, he was up early to change diapers and to prepare for outings.
Needless to say, his morning disposition had faltered in recent weeks.
Ms. Selina returned to sit beside her horizontal beau, "Where is your father, Mattie?"
The child giggled quietly as her mother set her down on the bed. She then crawled towards Master Bruce, standing on her hands and knees before reaching out for the blanket covering his form. After a few good yanks, she pulled the comforter away from him and then crawled on to his head. I stood by with a triumphant smile on my aged visage while Ms. Selina urged her child on.
Rather than leave the toddler in waiting, Master Bruce emerged with a smirk on his tired face, a smirk that grew when she declared, "Pee dee bah!"
His voice was a low rasp, "Peek a boo. I see you."
Miss Mattie leaned forward and rested her face on his chest, sighing softly when he wrapped an arm around her, "Dahie…"
Just seven weeks short of her first birthday and she was already daddy's little girl.
Leaving the family to ready themselves for the day, I returned to my post in the kitchen I order to give everything a once over with out the adorable distraction of Miss Mattie. Given the opportunity, I plated the dining room as quickly as possible, making sure that each anticipated guest was located properly amidst the place settings. When I entered the kitchen once more, I was surprised to see it was already occupied.
"Well, we all set for the invasion or what?" Ms. Selina smiled, holding her daughter in her slender arms.
"Quite so, madam. Master Dick and Master Timothy shall be filled to the brim before they can conquer this meal."
She smiled, "That's a scary thought… I know it's foolish to ask, but is there anything I can do, to help?"
Without hesitation, I replied, "Enjoy yourself, that is all I wish."
She smirked, kissed her daughter's brow, then thanked me.
^V^
With Mattie reasonably set for the morning, I entertained her while Selina showered and dressed. When Peek A Boo had grown boring, she settled in next to me as I read to her from the previous morning's newspaper. It wasn't long before that had also lost its entertainment value, evident when she reached out and ripped the society section's front page right down the middle.
"Good call," I remarked as she began shredding the rest of the paper.
With my daughter thoroughly enjoying the activity, it allowed me to rest my eyes for another fifteen minutes in somewhat peace. I had made it up from the Cave shortly before five, exhausted mentally and physically. Even still, I had climbed the stairs to the third floor, each step forward allowing me to push back the night's events. It hadn't been a particularly hectic night, just one that had left a sour taste in my mouth.
Ninety=eight percent of patrols had been standard, making the rounds, checking in on a few snitches and trekking to Arkham for a quick check-in on Harvey. With his escape coinciding with my return to the cowl, the nights that had followed his capture left me feeling unaccomplished. Useless, even. Dick often joked that disaster would strike again soon enough, giving me a challenge to tackle. In the mean time, it was drug dealers, illegal firearms smugglers and the regular lot of violent offenders.
The two percent of patrols that had not been standard had been gruesome.
Armed robbery turned aggravated assault turned homicide.
Four victims including the suspect.
One witness, age eleven. Overhearing the police officers first responding to the scene, the girl's name was Aliza and that she wouldn't stop crying. Perfectly understandable given that she had just witnessed her father defend the family store with his life.
Crawling into bed beside Selina, I had pretended that I was able to leave the crime scene walkthrough behind in order to get at least a few hours of sleep. Regrettably, my mind decided that it was still on duty, playing out the countless ways the event could have played out. Each scenario ended with four dead bodies and one orphan girl sitting with Child Protective Services in the back of a patrol car. I had finally managed to shut my brain off shortly before Alfred had walked in with Mattie…
By the time Selina emerged, dressed in fitted dark jeans and a caramel colored chiffon top, Mattie had most of the bedspread covered in scraps and bits of newspaper. She shook her head as she walked over, "Bruce, why didn't you stop her?"
Forcing myself to sit up, I fought back a yawn to reply, "It's fine, I read it yesterday."
"That, I could care less about… but this mess," she gestured to the countless bits of paper.
"I'll pick it up," I said as I started to collect the pieces. Mattie quickly tried to stop me, reaching out with a tiny hand to grab at the paper in my hand. When I raised it out of her reach, she called out in protest.
Selina picked Mattie up, leading to another soft wail, "Come on, kiddo, I'm sure there is at least one toy in the nursery that is as entertaining as confetti…"
Alone, I cleared off the bedspread, checked under the blankets for any stray bits and then threw everything away in the bathroom trash can, along with any hope to go back to bed. Thanksgiving dinner wasn't until late afternoon, but in the hours leading up to it, the Family would be arriving at various times and require entertaining. A year ago, I couldn't have been more excited to spend the holiday with everyone.
Staring at my tired face in the mirror, I wanted to do anything but.
After showering and shaving, I looked and felt slightly better. Dressing casually for the day in dark slacks, a white cotton tee shirt under a navy blue vee-neck sweater, I proceeded to jog down the stairs, rolling my sleeves up just as I reached the last step. As much as I wanted to head to the Cave to quickly check on coroner reports or forensic lists from the GCPD for the quadruple homicide, I turned left at the bottom of the great staircase.
Following not my instinct, but the sound of Mattie laughing.
She was in the breakfast nook, sitting on selina's lap while Isis incidentally tickled her legs with a twitching tail. I watched from the doorway as Mattie leaned forward and grabbed the cat's tail, pulling gently but still enough to convince the feline to trot away to safety.
"Mattie, that's not nice," Selina said while righting our child.
"She's lucky that Isis is… some cats scratch," I announced myself. When Selina looked up, I smirked, "You eat yet?"
She nodded, "Alfred fed Mattie earlier, then she ate again when I did… you want something?"
Taking the chair opposite of hers, I shook my head, "I'm sure I'll get my fill later." When Mattie reached out towards me, I set my left arm on the table, letting her grasp my thumb. It was then that I realized that a good portion of the glossy oak table was covered in magazines.
Bridal magazines.
"Sorry, I was just perusing," Selina offered.
"Peruse away," I smirked again.
After a moment of contemplation, Selina smiled as well, quickly followed by her bare toes reaching over to rest on my loafer clad feet. When they traced the edge of my pants leg, I decided I was forgiven for my lapse in parental supervision earlier that morning. It wasn't that she had been upset, more or less, but frustrated. I went to work during the day, I patrolled during the night… Selina's role left her at the Manor for far too many hours. Something we had discussed off and on. Something that we never really solved save with rare dinners in town and weekend road trips that barely lasted a day.
We had spent part of the fall working out some of the most pertinent details of our wedding, having the ceremony and reception at the Manor making it a fraction less difficult. The date was set for June fifteenth, the wedding itself to be outdoors near the rose garden and in smaller dining hall if the weather failed us. The Farmer's Almanac and weather patterns predicted clear skies and mildly warm temperatures. A perfect day to stand outside in a three piece tuxedo…
We also had a rough idea for a guest list, smaller than what would be expected of me by the social vultures but I honestly wanted it to be as painless of a process as possible. A catering company that Alfred turned to for many of the events housed at the Manor over the years was more than willing to offer their services. Thankfully, they would also help in selecting the menu, the serving ware and offer cake designing as well.
I thought we were practically set but Selina would remind me that we were nearly a fifth of the way done in preparing for the event.
"What are we looking at now?" I asked, seeming as interested as I could.
She pushed a tuxedo catalog towards me, "Figured I've had my dress picked out for weeks… time to get you garbed."
I noticed several tabs of sticky notes indicating her selections she had already pre-selected for me. I had seven tuxes of varying styles in my closet but they obviously weren't worthy of the occasion. Opening to the first marker, she tapped at a catalog picture that had a tall, handsome young man sporting a three-piece single-breasted tux, black onyx buttons and cuff links with a simple tie. The vest was cut slightly higher than those I wore, something different.
"It's nice," I said quietly, thinking how all tuxes looked nice.
"You don't like it."
The tone of her voice hit me like ice water, even though she said it softly. "I said it looked nice… if I didn't like it, I would have said it didn't look nice."
"You going to be a wiseass all day?" Selina asked, her left eyebrow arching dangerously.
"No, dear."
She flipped through the pages of the magazine, showing the different cuts she had picked for her top five. Although there were minute alterations in lapels, button placement, piping and lining, it really seemed to me that it was the same tux over and over, just with a different name. Alfred was a tailoring master so alterations would be a breeze, it just depended on what suit he ended up working on. Not that I had a choice in the matter…
It would be pointless to voice as much, as it would only encourage Selina to stop tracing her big toe up and down my leg and to kick my shin instead.
At the last marked page, she showed me a single-breasted three-button tuxedo. It was complimented with a white cotton wing-collared shirt and a dark platinum vest by Ralph Lauren. I let go of Mattie's hand to point to it, "What about this one?"
A hopeful smile came to her lips, "Really? The vest isn't too much?"
I looked again at the silver and black design, "Not really. Besides, wearing all black isn't any fun."
She laughed, "So that's why your belt is yellow."
Glaring at her, I replied, "Funny."
Selina sat back in the chair, looking down at Mattie, "Well, I try." The soft look of her face changed slightly before she asked, "Have you given any thought about a best man?"
We had broached the subject of the actual wedding party on a few occasions, most often when we shared a few moments alone after Mattie went to bed for the night and before I left for the city. It was no secret that I didn't have friends in a true sense as I viewed most individuals as colleagues, allies, protégés or foes. Those that stood out I had come to accept as my Family, making it all the more difficult to narrow it down.
Alfred, who was like a father to me, would most likely be kept occupied with making sure everything was in perfect order for the special occasion. And Dick had become more like a son than friend, as had Tim. Clark was an option but I really didn't want a lecture about marrying a reformed criminal. Which left only one person…
Jim.
He was invited to dinner that afternoon but I was unsure as to what his final decision had been. Regrettably, I had been unable to touch base with him the night before convenience store murders had taken place, simply too busy with small tasks to make my way to Tri-Corner. His top detectives from special crimes had been on the scene, along with forensic technicians, but the commissioner had long since called it a night.
Not that I could blame him. He had been fighting the same fight as I had been in Gotham for just as long, working his way up the ranks in a police department as corrupt as the city it governed. Despite all that my younger allies had faced, no other being had endured as much as he, losing his wife, nearly losing his daughter and his own life numerous times.
There really was no other I would have standing beside me, especially after last year.
I looked up to see Selina still waiting for a reply. The only one I could give her was, "Not really… what about you?"
Selina began to chew on her lip, a telltale sign that she was unsure of something, "Same boat… And here I was worried about hair up or down…"
I answered while rising to my feet, "Down."
"Up."
Leaning over to kiss her cheek, I replied "Yes, dear."
^V^
"Ack!" I cried out as my grip failed on the third rotation around the top parallel bar.
A mere second later, I found myself sprawled over the somewhat soft padding with serious mat burn on the left half of my face. With a growl, I pushed myself up with my hands and sat beneath the bars. Returning to school has put a significant damper on my physical training, leaving me to do what I could with our fitness center.
Not to stand out, I kept up with most of the other guys with cardio work and weight lifting. We had a kickboxing team but I passed on joining as any sort of success at that was a flag for a computer geek such as myself. A full course load, absent social life and my father checking up on me sporadically had made life a reasonable mess. I hadn't been to Gotham in three weeks, leaving Bruce and Cass to manage on their own.
Given that I had a five day weekend for Thanksgiving, I had packed up my duffle bag and made the drive home to Bristol. It wasn't the distance that kept me from trekking to Gotham to help uphold my crime fighting responsibilities, it was the lack of time. I had spent most of my nights in my dorm room wondering if I could swing down the parkway to meet up with Bruce and Cass for at least three hours on the streets. But with eight in the morning classes, working as a tutor for extra class credit and a nosy roommate, the risks never seemed to be worthwhile.
With a grunt, I rose to my feet and jumped up in one fluid motion, grabbing the lower bar with both hands. After a few back and forth swings, I pushed on and did a complete rotation around the bar. Once. Twice. Halfway through the third, I growled as I released and spread my hands out in order to latch onto the higher bar. I had lost some momentum in the jump but regained it quickly by straightening my arms and body. I completed another two rounds before pausing on the upside down vertical.
Hold it, Tim, I screamed inside, as long as you can.
After forty seconds of sheer agony racing up and down my arms, I allowed my body to soften and fall in a backwards rotation, circling two final times before letting go. Landing in a handspring, I finally made it to my feet in one piece. Out of breath, covered in sweat, but in one piece.
I started to dust my hands off when I heard Bruce clearing his throat from behind me.
An audience for my half-ass performance. A tall, dark and gloomy audience at that. I hadn't seen him since my last trek home and even in s a few weeks I noticed the differences. He was nearly back to his original form physically and there was no doubt in my mind that he was already there mentally. Seeing him in action when Two-Face had escaped had been worrisome at the time but he ended up walking away not too much worse for the wear.
None of us should have doubted him. He was Batman. Always would be.
"Not too bad, Tim," he stated, but without any shred of pride, "Your upper body strength needs some work though. Almost buckled twice in the last fifteen seconds."
I faced him, running a hand through my hair, "Yeah, we don't exactly have gymnastic equipment in Brentwood... Although we do have a new sauna and tanning beds."
"How is school?" he asked as an afterthought.
Approaching him, I answered as truthfully as possible, "Not too bad… I mean… I'm still counting down the days left in this semester, but that's only because of winter break."
"It will be good to have you back," he started, making me think it was a compliment. Then he added, "It's been difficult getting to the north end of the city every night with Dick back in Bludhaven."
"I bet… how have things been?" I asked, stepping after him as he trekked towards the computer bay.
"Things have been quiet… a little too quiet." Before I could respond he continued, "Didn't know you were going to be here… at least not this early."
As we reached the elevated tier, he took a seat before the computer and put his fingers to the keyboard. I chose to stand just to his left, watching as he made his way into GCPD secure forensic files as if he was checking his e-mail. Reading over his shoulder, I replied, "Well, I woke up at seven, couldn't fall back asleep. Figured I might as well burn the calories off before I stuff them into my face."
"Good plan. Although save something for tonight."
"Sure… Was this… last night?" I asked as he brought up news reports from a multiple homicide in the Bowery. From the looks of things, the suspect was fatally wounded by one of his victims. Not the best way to solve a whodunnit…
"This morning, technically."
I suddenly felt as if getting up early had been a good thing. Bruce rose from his seat, giving it to me to sort through all of the evidence forensics had uploaded to their computer systems. With me in the throne, he had gone down a tier to the evidence bay, finally getting to take a closer look at what he had collected. Without him looking, I had checked to see that he had signed off of the Oracom shortly before five.
It was just after nine and he was still going strong.
Falling back into the natural swing of things, I downloaded all of their information, under untraceable CPU account information, of course. For the better part of an hour and a half, we worked in near silence, he on the physical while I delved into the digital. Fingerprints, blood spatter patterns, preliminary coroner's reports along with hundreds and hundreds of digital photographs. Recreating the chaotic crime scene that had left four people dead in a near blink of an eye.
As my watch read ten after ten, I heard Bruce ascending the metal steps. Looking over my shoulder, I asked, "Find anything good?"
"Not especially… you?"
"Well, they seem to have a pretty good handle on things… I was just reading through their explanation of what went down… not sure I entirely agree with their order of events though. Seems that from the spatter patterns, the suspect went after the female victim first, eldest male intervened, was stunned… got back up after the suspect already took the female and the youngest male victim…"
"Make a note of it."
"Will do."
Completely off topic, he was quick to ask, "Staying for dinner?"
I glanced up at him, "Yeah, Dad and Dana are out of town for the weekend…. Speaking of which, Dad wants to make sure his schedule is clear for the wedding… set a date yet?"
He nodded slightly before answering, "June fifteenth. Save the date cards will be going out in February."
"I'll let him know… he still can't believe you're finally settling down."
Although Bruce was an obsessively controlling individual, there were still some things he would never be able to domineer. Like Selina. Their impending marriage was a hot topic not only in the social circles of Gotham but much closer to home. Even after all we had endured the previous year, having Bruce recover had been the next logical step in getting life back to normal. Where Bruce had returned to the cowl, I honestly had half-expected Selina to do the same.
I knew if I had dared to ask either of them curiosity would kill the Robin.
"I highly doubt getting married will lead to settling down for him, Tim."
We both looked towards the base of the granite steps to see Dick approaching. I quickly made it to my feet, ready to greet him once he came up to the computer bay. Bruce seemed less enthusiastic, choosing to cross his arms over his chest.
Smirking, I said, "Surprised you weren't here first thing to pre-game with breakfast."
"There are only so many Pennyworth meals my digestive system can tolerate in one day," he patted his stomach as he stepped up in front of me, pulling me into a rough embrace that quickly turned into a headlock.
Once I escaped, I flattened my hair back down and replied, "Missed you, too."
Dick then looked to our mentor, "How's it going?"
"Fine," Bruce answered while offering his hand, "You're early, dinner isn't until three."
Without hesitating, Dick grasped it and shook it briefly, "Barbara is coming up later, with Jim… figured it wouldn't hurt to come and get my younger sibling fix."
"Mattie is with her mother up in the den," he replied.
Dick nodded, "I know… I stopped in quick o my way down here… but I should start from oldest to youngest." He then looked to me, "Game on?"
"Oh, it's on." My smirk had evolved into a full on grin. Save for Alfred's feast and a few nights of patrols, getting time on the training mats with my best friend was my highlight of my long weekend home. I had expected it not to happen until the weekend but if he wanted his own case of mat burn, I wasn't about to deny him.
Bruce cleared his throat, waiting to speak until our eyes were on him, "No bleeding, no breaks, no sprains… Alfred has enough on his plate today."
"Yes, sir," we answered in near unison.
With a final shake of his head, Bruce excused himself quietly before heading towards the steps. I had expected him to work right up until dinner, requiring Selina or Alfred to drag him upstairs. Then again, it wasn't that hard to calculate how much work he would be able to accomplish with the two of us in proximity of one another.
Rather than race down to the training bay, we walked side by side casually down the steps and across the main tier. After sitting in the chair and knowing he had just spent at least and hour and a half battling holiday traffic from Bludhaven, we took a few minutes to limber up. While doing so, I asked, "You going to ask the question?"
"To Babs?" he blurted out while swinging his arms in broad circles.
"No, to Bruce, dummy… about the wedding." When he continued to stare at me, I reminded him, "Remember the other day… you were wondering who he was going to pick for best man? You wouldn't stop texting me? Any of this ringing a bell?"
Dick stared at me with a completely blank look on his face. Then, without warning, he lunged with a fierce smile on his face, "How's this for ringing a bell?"
Our laughter was interrupted only by grunts, sharp inhalations and cries of effort, along with solid thuds, hard smacks and of feet taking flight and landing. He held nothing back, encouraging me to do the same. Once upon a time, our spars had been more of a basic form of exercise before a night of patrols. In the last year and a half, they had become much more, something between a test and a pure release of aggravation at the world.
Given that I had US Government paper due Monday, had four unpaid campus parking tickets and a roommate who never brushed his teeth, it felt good to release that pent up negative energy on my big brother.
^V^
I had no intention of going into work on Thanksgiving. Just as I had no intention of giving in to nicotine, divorcing my first wife and having more grey hairs in my moustache than brown. Then again, fifteen years helming the GCPD had a way interfering.
Leaving the house at ten after seven that morning, I promised myself to be out by noon. Barbara had asked that I meet her at her place but I had told her to be prepared to drag me out of my office. Crime didn't take a holiday and neither did I. I had department monthly reports to review, IA complaints to brief, requests to turn down, a budget that was sixteen weeks overdue and still on its third draft…
Not that I was going to even get to any of that.
Instead, my morning was dedicated to barking down the necks of the detectives that had been assigned the worst case of the previous night and touring forensics, making sure there were no loopholes being knitted. A sparse ten minutes alone in my office wasn't spent returning phone calls, but watching a news broadcaster barely touch the surface of how tragic the previous night had been.
As expected, Barbara called at eleven-thirty to inform me that she and Cassandra were still on track for leaving at noon. Before hanging up, I promised her that I would be there and ready to go. I had worn the same suit I had on Tuesday to work, bringing a clean sweater and slacks for dinner. It would take me all of ten minutes to change and wash up, leaving no excuse not to be at her doorstep at eleven-fifty.
The very thought crossed my mind as I rapped on her door at quarter of one.
Barbara opened it so quickly, I wondered if she had been waiting just on the other side, "We're going to be late."
Stepping into her atrium, I apologized then added, "The man invented the fashionably late entrance. I'm sure he'll understand."
She shook her head, "Bruce I'm not worried about… Alfred on the other hand…"
"So he'll give us one less slice of pumpkin pie. I'm sure we'll survive."
She sighed again while pulling on a fitted wool coat, calling out to Cassandra that I had arrived. While waiting for her, Barbara then looked up at me and smirked, "You say that now, Dad."
Having taken a cab, Barbara drove, battling the traffic with her savvy and her GPS that monitored congested roadways. With Cassandra sitting quietly in the backseat, I rode shotgun and did my best to keep up mild conversation with my daughter. It predicted our arrival time to be two-thirty at best, a time that increased as we hit a stand still on the Westward Bridge. Barbara managed to keep her road rage under control, using the extended time we had alone together to chat about work.
In turn, I had inquired about life, teasing her about her relationship with Dick Grayson.
Barbara yelling at me for being nosy made Cassandra snicker from the backseat.
It was nice catching up with her, not only as a mean to pass the time with… not the I minded being late.
I had been invited to dinner that afternoon in two manners. First, I had dropped in at Barbara's after work one evening to find Dick was visiting. He had instinctually risen from the couch, took my hand into his and asked what I was doing for Thanksgiving. It had been hard to deny him at the time, but I had managed to promise to think about it.
The following night, I had arrived home to find a message on my answering machine: "Jim, It's me… Listen, if you don't have plans yet, I… well, we would love to have you up to the house next Thursday… Dinner is around three… all right, then."
He had done a fair job of making it sound like a casual invitation, but I had known him far too long to ignore the slight change in timber, the barely noticeable anxiety in his voice.
Since his recovery in May and his unannounced return to the mantle over the summer, I had found it difficult to socialize with Bruce Wayne. We had bumped elbows at a handful events over the last several months, all of the interactions as casual as they were cordial. We had chatted while waiting in line at the bar at the Mayor's birthday party and had shaken hands at a Wayne Foundation banquet in September. In fact, the last I had seen him socially, I had been at a lunch meeting with some big shot that was going to donate new squad cars.
Bruce Wayne had been three tables away, eating lunch with his fiancée and acting as if he didn't have a care in the world.
We hadn't even interacted, simply offering curt nods from a distance.
Somehow, I felt that the distance was only going to grow over time…
Once on the other side of the bridge, the pace picked up, even more so once we were off of the St. James Expressway and on the exit for Bristol. Barbara seemed to be driving on auto-pilot, making the turns without conscious effort. As we made the final approach up the long drive to Wayne Manor, she joked that I wasn't going to recognize Mattie from the last time I had seen her.
"She's huge… and her hair is practically to her shoulders, even with all of those curls," she added as we passed through the main gates.
Parking behind the garage, we exited the car just as the light snow clouds opened up from above, releasing tiny white flakes. I looked up, letting a few flakes collect on my glasses before removing them, wiping the droplets away with the edge of my sweater. Glancing to the other side of the car, I spotted Cassandra standing by as Barbara as she maneuvered herself into her chair.
I asked, "Supposed to snow much tonight?"
Barbara shook her head, "In the city, a dusting. Out here, up to two inches."
Following them through the entranceway that sat between the garage and the house, I recognized the small area on the other side as what called a billionaire's mud room. Marble counter top, white porcelain sink and stained cabinets with ornate carving on them lined the far wall, decorated with two glass vases of bright orange and white flower arrangements. Even the dark, tiled floor was highlighted with a thick wool rug. Barbara shrugged out of her coat and offered it to me. When I simply stared at her, she pointed behind me at a wall mounted coat rack as Cassandra set hers on a brass hook.
After hanging hers up between a light gray wool coat and a well worn down jacket, I set mine beside a black leather jacket that had seen better days.
Proceeding into the house through the service entrance, I followed her down the broad, quiet corridor, my glasses fogging in the sudden warmth. There were faint cooking smells, nothing I could pinpoint save for cinnamon and melted butter. They kept going, casually making their way to the main corridor, leaving me two strides behind and feeling like an intruder. Heading towards the front of the house, I finally heard voices, causing me to inhale deeply.
The main den's oak double doors were wide open, revealing a blazing fireplace and chatting figures. Dick stood with Tim by a small table of appetizers and drinks, deep in conversation while pointing at the foodstuffs before them. Gazing over the room, I found Selina sitting with Dr. Thompkins on the small sofa near the fireplace. My eyes barely registered that Dick was approaching, instead seeking out the figure that was missing.
Where was he?
Ignoring Dick as he bent at the waist to kiss Barbara's cheek, I spotted the top of someone head over on the far side of the room, barely noticeable above a wooden credenza. I smirked at Dick, shook his hand and subconsciously thanked him for inviting me. Pleasantries over, I began to cross the room with uncertain steps, still unable to see the figure hidden from my line of sight.
I did, however, see Mattie as she was standing up against the floor to ceiling window, staring out in wonder at the snow falling. Her tiny hands were pressed against the cold glass, her eyes tracking from high to low, her toddler ramblings starting soft then growing louder with excitement. A bare forearm reached out to gently support her lower back when she began to bounce up and down, followed by soft words, "Easy, kitten."
She replied with, "Lowie!"
"I know, I see it's snowing."
My eyes could hardly believe that the gray-haired man caressing the toddler's back was indeed the Batman.
Without looking back at me, he said, "Hello, Jim."
"Bruce…" I replied softly.
"Glad you could make it up for dinner," he continued, his eyes never leaving Mattie as she began gently patting her hands on the window.
My grim face finally broke into a soft smile as I felt all the frustration and worry fade away. I had known him for the better part of two decades, inside and out of the mask. In all honesty, when thinking of the few friends I kept, his face always came to mind first. Granted our friendship had taken on considerable change recently, it was no match for what we had endured in previous years.
We had been to Hell and back at each others' sides time and time again.
Thanksgiving dinner had nothing on that.
"Lord, look how big she's gotten," I found myself saying.
He smiled and leaned closer to her, gently kissing the back of her head before he rose to his feet, "Yes she has."
"Walking yet?"
"Almost," his gaze finally found my face, "Walks pretty well while hanging on to something. Another couple of weeks and she'll be chasing us all around."
"I can picture that."
Bending at the waist, he picked her up, holding her so she faced me, "See who's here, Mattie?"
If angels existed on Earth, she was certainly one of them. Her round face was framed with black curls, her light skin tinted a faint pink along her cheeks. Her eyes were replicas of her father's, although slightly brighter given her care-free existence. She grinned for no reason at all, showing off a few of her baby teeth, followed swiftly by her hiding behind Bruce's head.
Looking at her father's half-smirk, I noticed for the first time the complete lack of anxiety, the façade I had bore witness to for so many years was truly gone.
And I had to admit, it fell pretty damned good.
^V^
Allowing myself a half of a day at the Free Clinic and only a few hours at the soup kitchen just down the block, I returned home briefly. I showered quickly, pinned my short hair back and donned one of the few outfits I had that weren't medical scrubs. Although the last few months had real life pulling me away from my family, I had promised to join them for dinner that afternoon.
After all, we had more to be thankful for than the previous year.
I took the train to Bristol, quietly watching as the urban atmosphere gave way to suburbia and then finally Mother Nature. With Alfred overseeing the dinner preparations, I expected Dick or Tim to be waiting for me at the train station. As the cars slowed and brakes rebelled audibly, I spotted only four cars in the pick-up and drop-off lane. The only familiar one was a glossy black town car.
With an even more familiar figure already out and standing at the passenger side door.
Once the train was motionless and the sliding doors had parted, I rose to my feet, adjusted my winter coat and followed the handful of other passengers outside. Approaching the vehicle and its driver, I smiled warmly, "Don't you have a turkey to tend to?"
Alfred smirked, tiny flakes of snow decorated his black wool coat and his flat cap, "I have several in fact, madam."
Before taking the passenger seat, I leaned forward and kissed him softly, "Happy thanksgiving, old man."
"And to you, my dear," he replied with a smirk.
When we were both seated in the car, Alfred deftly navigated out of the parking lot, the stop light keeping him from departing. I smiled at him and asked, "So, how is everyone?"
"Quite pleasant," he started before the light turned, allowing him to drive on, "And hungry. Master Dick has already polished off the hors d'oeurves…"
"He's still a growing boy…"
He continued without missing a beat, "And Miss Cassandra and Master Tim were last quarrelling over the remnants of the egg nog."'
"Well, the poor dears have to suffice with cardboard cartons of it unless there is a holiday gathering…" When he didn't say anything else, I inquired about our eldest.
"Fairly good spirits."
"Considering… did you see-."
He nodded, "I did, he has yet to say anything about it… Although I'm not sure if that is a good or bad thing."
"Both," I answered, "He's making an effort to make this a normal family gathering… but while everyone is eating dinner, he'll be letting it eat him up from the inside out."
Alfred was quiet for a good five minutes before clearing his throat. After glancing to me briefly, he smirked, "Miss Mattie is quite precious in her dress… Although I fear for it when she tastes cranberry sauce for the first time."
With the conversation directed towards our beloved surrogate grandchild, the remainder of the trek was much lighter in spirit. Making our way up the drive, I was surprised to see that the light snowfall was already collecting on the pavement, lawn and trees. There were many that loathed the coming of winter but I always welcomed it with open arms. The tidings it brought, the chilly mornings and of course, bright, white, clean snow.
Combined, they seemed to make life a little more manageable.
Once inside, I joined Alfred in the kitchen before making my presence known to the others. The room was warm both in temperature and aromas, only natural considering that most of the marble countertops were covered in platters and serving bowls filled with food. I asked him if everything was set and he shook his head.
"The turkey has another ten minutes or so…" he paused as he approached an apple pie that was cooling beside its pumpkin crumb counterpart, "Although it appears my brief excursion has yielded to an intruder."
When he pointed out a small piece of crust missing, I smirked, "I would say you could dust it for fingerprints, but we both know who the guilty party is."
He sighed before proceeding to check the other foodstuffs, "I am surprised Master Dick managed to resist taking a slice…"
Between the two of us, we moved the side dishes, warm rolls and two pitchers of ice water into the dining room with minimal trips. By then, he deemed the internal temperature of the glazed turkey was up to his standards and proceeded to carve it. With his refusing to allow me to help any further, I left him to his craft to seek out the rest of the family.
A feat that wasn't hard to do given the volume of their combined voices and laughter.
Sounds that I had dearly missed echoing in the great house.
I heard Selina speak as I stepped into the den, "Look who's here, Mattie…"
The others, seated or standing throughout the expansive room also looked up and offered collected greetings. I smiled and returned the gesture, taking gentle embraces from Dick, Tim and Cass before leaning over to kiss the cheeks of Selina, Barbara and the little girl that sat between them. Glancing around, I found myself asking, "Where's Bruce?"
Barbara answered, "Actually he went outside a little while ago to take a walk with my dad."
I suddenly found myself wondering if he was simply catching up with his friend or if they were talking business, hoping it was the former.
It wasn't long until Alfred arrived, announcing that dinner was served and all were welcome to take their seats in the dining room. As a staggered group, moved down the hall, couples moving together as we walked towards the dining room. Dick naturally went to Barbara, followed by Selina carrying Mattie and Tim and Cassandra nearly last, joking about something softly.
Alfred and I brought up the rear, encouraging me to latch my hand onto his.
As we reached the open arched entrance, I spotted movement out of the corner of my eye. Alfred proceeded to follow the others, leaving me to watch on as Bruce and Jim made their way up the corridor, each sporting a bit of melting snow in their hair and on their shoulders. They were talking softly but once they spotted me, each stopped abruptly.
"You should wear a jacket, young man…" I said as Bruce paused before me.
He smirked, before saying, "Yes, Leslie."
Even with Jim watching, he didn't hesitate to step forward and accept a hug from me.
Jim tried to offer a hand for me to shake, but I shook my head, "Nice try," before embracing him as well. Releasing him, I looked back to Bruce and asked, "When are you going to start carving the turkey?"
Leading the way into the dinning room, he replied, "Alfred has all of the knives… It's not worth the risk."
Most of the family had already found their places, still in the pairings that they had been while departing the den. Selina was coercing Mattie into the highchair, the child already pulling a the bib around her neck. Bruce was quick to join her, entertaining his daughter while Selina adjusted the tray. Dick remarked, "Is she ready to rock and roll?"
I smirked with Mattie slapped her hands down on the tray several times, giggling in delight.
"I take that as a yes," her older brother nodded.
When everyone was seated save for Alfred, he spoke softly, "I know this Family is not religious in the normal sense… But we do have much to give considerable thanks for… especially this year. Despite all odds, our Family has proceeded to grow, to prosper and to live in good health. And it is my sincerest wish, that we continued to do so."
"Amen," I found myself whispering.
A brief pause was interrupted by dick's light voice, "Let the feasting begin."
Mattie was precious throughout the meal, alternately eating from the spoonfuls her father presented her and grasping tiny handfuls of food and feeding herself. Bruce tended to her flawlessly, gently encouraging her to eat while leaving his plate untouched. The others carried on numerous conversations, many of them enticing laughter, while tasting each dish that passed around.
For some reason, I thought back on the early weeks Bruce had spent in recovery the previous year. Weeks where he himself had to been hand fed as he tried to relearn his coordination to hold utensils…
Nothing had ever stood between Bruce and what he wanted to learn for very long, even before Tom and Martha had died. He would always brag on about his boy as if the child had been full grown and contributing to society. Having a child so late in life had left him with a five-year-old boy where his colleagues had boys preparing for college.
At one fundraiser, I had heard him proudly boast that his six-year-old Bruce was already ready chapter books. A real bright boy.
Towards the end of the meal, Mattie had grown fussy, tiny whimpers escaping from her petite mouth. After wiping her face and hands, Bruce removed her from the chair and walked with her in the hall.
"Long time to sit still, huh?" Barbara asked.
Selina nodded, her eyes still on doorway they had departed through, "For who, the baby or Bruce?"
While he was gone, the topic of the conversation had drawn everyone's attention, namely embarrassing storied about Dick growing up in the Manor. After recounting the tale of when he had used the great hall's chandelier as a part of an intricate trapeze act. Dick proceeded to explain the mechanics of the acrobatic routine and how it wasn't his fault that the crystal laden light fixture was placed perfectly in his path.
Alfred shook his head as he rose to his feet, "Perhaps you can redeem yourself yet, sir…"
Dick and Tim stood as well, helping clear the dishes to make way for dessert. Although Alfred didn't immediately return with them, I noticed he had sent the boys back armed with a carafe of coffee and a tray of cups and saucers. Bruce returned just in time to decline the caffeinated beverage, in spite of the tired look in his eyes.
"Good," Jim remarked, "More for this old man."
Once seated beside his wife again, Bruce finally surrendered to her offers and handed their daughter over. Child happily sitting in her mother's lap, he finally started on his dinner. Tim joked that Bruce was just in time as they were about to divvy out his plate amongst themselves.
"Gluttons, all of you," Bruce said with a soft smirk.
Alfred once more beckoned the assistance of Dick, hinting that he was the one who had already sampled the apple pie. When they returned, Dick carried a large serving tray of wedges of apple, pumpkin and cherry pies. They toured together around the table, Alfred serving as requests were made. Reaching me, I shook my head, "There is no room, trust me."
Bruce declined, as did Selina, but she took a small piece for Mattie to experiment with. We watched on quietly as the young girl giggled, pressing her fingers into the filling and trying to grab at the dollop of whipped cream.
"You say thank you, Mattie?" Selina asked, leaning forward to kiss her daughter's head. "Say thank you."
I, along with everyone else, had not expected to hear, "Danky… Alfie."
In a span of three seconds, Dick spat out his pie crust onto the table and onto Barbara, Tim knocked over his water glass, Selina dropped her fork, Cassandra stole Tim's pie plate, Jim gasped audibly, Barbara wiped the pie that had been spat on her and Bruce starred in silent disbelief.
All the while, Alfred stood with a smug grin on his face. He then bowed so that he was eye level with the toddler, "You are very welcome, Miss Mattie."
The child had a very limited vocabulary, her words mere shadows of what they most likely meant. Ever her term for her parents, dahie and mahie, was never clear when she uttered it. At least not as clear as the precious Alfie she had just said.
Everyone proceeded to regret not having their cameras or cell phones out to document the child's first distinct and discernable word. Dick laughed that he wanted to be the next name she said, quickly followed by Tim asking if he really wanted her to call him Dickie. I looked on as Selina kissed the little girl on her lap once more, telling her how she could make as big of a mess as she wanted to after her achievement.
Bruce, who had been silent to that point, finally smirked again, commenting that Alfred offering his babysitting duties so willingly over the last few months had been devious in nature.
Sharp as ever, Alfred quickly replied, "I coached her equally to say several words… It is pure coincidence that we practiced saying my name during snack time."
Smiles all around.
A happier Thanksgiving would be hard to find.
^V^