For fun. ;D
Warning: Some Language . . .
Dick pulled into the parking area near the boardwalk. Despite the weather, there weren't a lot of spaces left open. Most of the cars here belonged to people here for the same reason: The Lakehouse Restaurant on Pier 36, one of Gotham City's premier seafood restaurants. The Lakehouse supposedly could give Alfred a run for his money, Dick had heard. He couldn't say for sure, being this was his first time here, but he supremely doubted it. He had to admit that he was curious to give it a try, though.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked Elle.
She hated seafood. She said she always had, even from a young age although her mother and grandmother hadn't shared her distaste. He had complained a few times because she had no give when it came to compromise on the subject. Dick had suggested they go to a surf and turf place where he could indulge his cravings while she stuck with her choice of land animals for dinner. She had always refused outright until tonight, her way of apologizing for going behind his back to her brother and stopping the assassin who had taken up a contract that was out on them.
Dick was still angry about it. Elle had messed up plans to use Deadshot to find the originator of the contract. The hired gun had apparently left the country the day before, after receiving a payoff from Aiden Hamilton to drop the deal; her dear brother supposedly pretending to be the person who had hired him to do it. Dick had his doubts still about her brother's acting credentials.
When Elle didn't answer him, Dick glanced over to find her staring out her window at the tops of the buildings around them. He touched her shoulder.
"Hey! Whatcha looking for? Bruce's sources confirmed that Deadshot left the U.S. yesterday," he asked her.
"Shadows," she murmured, still searching.
"You think someone else might have taken up the contract this soon? Word takes a little time to travel, even in the underworld."
She made a face at him. "No, not that. I'm looking for signs of bats."
He blinked in surprise. "Bats, eh?" He glanced up at the rooftops through the glass himself even as he scoffed. "We're supposed to be here by ourselves. At least, no one's admitted that they'd planned to follow us here."
She leaned back in her seat, giving him a look. "Would they tell you?"
Dick snorted. "Maybe not. Does their protectiveness really bother you that much?"
Elle shrugged. "No. I'm just a little suspicious where your family's concerned and I wondered if I might be able to spot one of them."
Dick laughed. "Only if they wanted you to," he told her. He got out of the car and, walking around to her side, swept the area once more . . . just to be sure. "Nope. No one here but us."
Elle stepped out and huddled in her jacket. Here by the lake, the wind was stronger and the temperature dropped by a degree or two. Dick threw an arm around her shoulders as they moved quickly to the sidewalk that led to the boardwalk and the restaurant beyond. The moist air smelled a bit like fish but not in a bad way.
Dick hesitated before opening the door. "We can still go somewhere else if you want."
She huffed in pretend annoyance. "I'm trying not to be that selfish," she muttered, opening the door herself and leading the way in.
Dick nearly ran into her back when she stopped suddenly. To their right were a long row of aquariums filled with crab and lobster. It made Dick's mouth water, but he could feel Elle stiffen in response.
"Good evening," the host greeted them. "Name?"
As Elle wandered to the tanks slowly, Dick answered for them. "Um, my fiancée made the reservations so . . . Try Hamilton first. If not that, then Grayson."
She might have used his name with the hyphened Wayne tacked on as well. Technically, that was his name now, though he didn't often use it. Bruce understood that Dick didn't like trading on his adopted father's wealth and fame or dealing with the media frenzy that came with it.
"Ah, here we go," the host, a short, rotund man with this graying hair, nodded. "It is under Grayson, sir." He noted Elle's preoccupation. "Are you in the mood for something in the tanks? Our lobster is fresh. The shipment came in this afternoon from Maine, brought into the wharf with the morning breeze."
He licked his lips. "Sounds like a plan," Dick agreed.
"Take your pick and they will take it back to the chef straightaway. I can seat you both when you're finished," the host told him.
It surprised him that Elle would linger here but it surprised him more when he stopped by her shoulder to hear her murmuring to the large lobster currently attempting to escape the tank on the backs of his 'brothers'. Dick met the eyes of the attendant behind the aquarium. The question in the man's eyes was as to whether or not Elle might be prone to violent episodes.
Dick smiled and shrugged his shoulder lightheartedly. He leaned in and admired the choices. "I thought you preferred cow," he said, bumping her shoulder gently.
She looked startled. "Oh, um, I do." She straightened. "I'm sorry. Am I holding us up? Is he waiting to seat us?"
"He will as soon as I choose my entrée," Dick said.
He tapped the glass, pointing at the large lobster Elle had been admiring. He might as well stuff himself while he was here. He was not under any illusions that this would be happening again short of their fiftieth wedding anniversary.
"Very good choice, sir," the attendant said. He reached in to pluck the lobster from the water.
Dick was turning when he froze abruptly. Elle's eyes were huge and her chin had begun trembling.
"What did I do to cause that?" he asked, indicating her upset.
Tears welled as she bit her lip and turned away.
"Elle? Baby? What's wrong?" Dick tried to turn her around to face him but she waved a hand in the air for him to give her a moment.
When she did turn, Dick's hope for a pleasant evening out turned to ash. Tears streaked her face as she struggled to control her reaction and failed miserably.
"I-I can't do this," she choked. "I tried. I thought I could but . . . I'm sorry! I'll wait outside for you."
Dick blinked and caught her right before she reached the door. "Elle, wait! That's crazy! You can't expect me to eat dinner in here while you sit outside and cry your eyes out." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and a bit of anger. "Why did you make reservations if this was how you're going to act?"
Her 'act', however, dissolved into a full-fledged breakdown. She wasn't throwing a tantrum in order to embarrass him, apparently, but genuinely upset . . . but by what? He glanced behind him at the lobsters still angling to escape their fate and it suddenly hit him. He even remembered her stating some time ago that she thought crabs were cute and made a threat once concerning the fate of lobsters. He had thought she had been joking! Anyone else would have been joking . . .
"I'll . . . wait outside," she wailed and ran back out the door, leaving Dick gaping.
Their host looked startled. "Will you be having dinner for one, then, or should I cancel your table?"
Dick turned back to the row of aquariums. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he shook his head and trotted over. "Wait! Can you stop him? I've changed my mind."
The second attendant manning the area had been watching the scene with some shock. He nodded and ran back into the kitchen. The lobster was too large to be wasted if the customer was planning to leave.
In a few minutes, the original attendant returned, lobster still in hand. He had a bit of a smirk on his face. "I didn't think you'd go through with it, mate," he said lightly. "Not when your lady was making faces at this big guy like he was a Christmas puppy, bow and all."
Gah! Dick felt like an idiot! This guy had seen Elle for a total of five minutes and knew she would never forgive him if he ate her . . . her . . . What had he called it? Her Christmas 'puppy'? But Dick hadn't been listening to his heart at that moment. His stomach had been making too much noise to hear anything else.
He slapped his forehead. This marriage was obviously never going to bore him . . . It might starve him, he thought wryly, but never bore him.
"Don't feel too bad," the other man grinned at him. "You weren't being heartless. You were just being a guy. We don't think the same way as women do." He glanced at the door. "Course, I'm thinking your lady-friend doesn't think like other women do either," he added with a short laugh.
Dick sighed. "She's not like anyone I've ever met before."
"Do I sympathize for you or do I congratulate you?" he asked, cheerfully.
It was Dick's turn to laugh a little. "Congratulate me. Definitely congratulate me."
"She'll keep you on your toes," the fellow said. "Congratulations . . . Well, if she doesn't dump you over this, anyway."
Dick smirked as he watched his dinner crawling around the aquarium in search for another way out. He wasn't worried that Elle would dump him over this. In fact, he thought she might even reward him for what he was about to do.
"I don't suppose you have a bucket back there you can loan me, do you?" Dick asked. "I think I still want our friend here but I'll be taking him to go."
It had cost him a pretty penny when one considered that Dick left the restaurant still hungry. The chef had insisted Dick pay for the bucket as well as the lobster after some argument. Dick was paying for the entire meal, why should he care if Dick chose to take his lobster home with him, uncooked or otherwise?
He didn't have to search; Elle could be seen halfway between the restaurant and the boardwalk, sitting on the pier with her feet dangling yards above the swirling tide below them. Her arms were crossed over the lower board that made up the railing and her chin was resting on them. Dick made his way over, the saltwater in the bucket sloshed a little, dampening his leg. He had to keep checking on his new friend to make sure he wasn't in the process of escaping the bucket, although why, he wasn't sure. Wasn't escaping the whole point?
He set the bucket down on the pier beside her and plopped himself down on the other side of it.
"Did I ruin everything?" he asked.
She snorted lightly, not looking away from the horizon. The sun had already set behind the skyscrapers but the sky hadn't darkened much beyond the twilight stage. The white foam seemed to glow as it hovered atop the churning waves of the Great Lake.
"Did I?" she came back. "I wanted to give you something but turns out, I'm too selfish for even that."
He couldn't see if she was crying in the dying light but he could feel it.
"I love seafood, I'll admit it," he murmured, "but you cannot seriously believe that I don't love you more? I appreciate what you were trying to do here but, baby, I love you whoever that is. And I can't fault you your tender heart."
Dick reached over and ran a hand through the loose strands of her hair. "If loving you means that I'll never eat seafood again, I'll just not eat seafood again."
Elle raised her head and shook it. "That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, "and so not fair to you."
He smiled. Pleased because, let's face it, Dick really did love seafood. "Then, how about we agree that once a month I eat dinner without you? Would that be okay?"
"Just once a month?" She glanced over at him and noticed the bucket for the first time. "Oh," she frowned. "What's this?"
"I promise to eat a month's worth in that meal," Dick vowed. He laid a hand on top of the bucket. "This is a gift to make up for wanting to eat your Christmas puppy."
She blinked, confused. "Christmas puppy? What?"
A claw rose up out of the water, hitting his hand. Dick removed it and a moment later, the lobster Elle had been chatting up inside the restaurant peeked out over the brim. Elle gasped is surprise once and then in delight a second time.
"Earl," she exclaimed. "You brought me Earl?"
It was Dick's turn to blink in confusion. "Earl? What? Who's Earl?"
But Elle was dipping her hands into the bucket and lifting the fat, juicy lobster that should have been dripping with butter rather than briny water out and held him up.
Well, I'll be damned, Dick watched in amazement. The guy was right! She does look at him like he's a damned puppy instead of a potential entrée.
Elle was cooing at the lobster. She looked over at Dick, joyfully. "You saved him? How?"
He shrugged, bemused. "I paid for our dinner. I decided for take-out instead and preferred to leave my lobster uncooked. I figured you would rather let him go free than for me to leave him for the next customer's plate."
She tucked him back into the saltwater. "You want to fly to the coast of Maine tonight?" she asked him. "That's what it would take to free him. Lobsters can't live in freshwater."
Dick frowned. He hadn't thought of that. "Oh. Oh, then what do we do with him? I kind of made a big fuss in the restaurant over this. We can't take him back."
Elle shook her head vehemently. "Oh no. We are not taking him back!" She trailed one delicately webbed finger in the water of the bucket thoughtfully. "I guess . . . we'll have to take him home with us."
Dick raised an eyebrow. He hadn't thought beyond taking the lobster out of the restaurant. A little panic bubbled up at the idea of spilling saltwater on the carpet of the Jaguar they had taken here and what Bruce might say to his $90,000, tricked-out Jag in British racing green smelling like fish the next time he chose to drive it into work.
"Uh . . . for how long?"
Elle grinned. "Forever?"
"For- . . . Are you kidding?" He kind of hoped she was kidding. "Mook's terrarium wouldn't hold a lobster, too."
She giggled. The sound lifted the edges of his mouth into a smile despite his worries. "This just became your Valentine's Day present to me," she told him with a wink. "Doesn't Bruce have an aquarium somewhere in the manor?" she asked him.
Valentine's Day? When was that? Oh, crap . . . That's tomorrow! He'd forgotten.
"Uh, well, yes," Dick remembered staring into it for hours over the course of his childhood, the rainbow colors of the many tropical fish delighting his young eyes and doing wonders towards easing his troubled spirit. "But it's currently occupied with fish."
"Hm, and their needs are probably incompatible with those of a lobster from the North Atlantic . . ." Elle sighed. "I guess I'll have to spring for an aquarium, then, in the morning."
"No. If it's my Valentine's Day gift to you, I'll pay for it," Dick said magnanimously. "But how soon can they deliver?"
"They wouldn't without some greenbacks to sweeten the deal," Elle told him. "No, really, Dick. What Earl would need is too expensive."
"How expensive is expensive?" he asked hesitantly.
"Several thousand to start. That's just the basics. It would be cruel to place him in a too small tank," she told him, her eyes glazing over as she planned what glorious home the lobster would be given.
Dick looked down at the bucket and sighed. "I have the money."
"There's no need to go to Bruce for a loan. I have all the money we need."
"I said I would pay for it and I will," Dick told her, finality adding a crisp snap to his voice. "I have the money. I have enough money to give Earl a damned palace if that's what you want."
And he wouldn't have to go through Bruce to get to it . . . just Lucius. The man had overseen his trust fund since the insurance company sent the check a couple of months after Dick's parents had died. The amount had barely been enough to cover the funeral expenses, however. His folks had had no idea how little the amount would stretch and that, after costs and fees had been taken out, their son would have been left practically penniless and at the mercy of the system. But Bruce had stepped in and paid for the funerals, then handed the check over to his most trusted man: Lucius Fox.
Lucius had a Midas touch when it came to investments. He had taken Dick's tiny nest egg and grown it into a fortune. Nothing on the scale of Elle's money but Dick wasn't as broke as people assumed. He just chose to save it for a rainy day. He'd had a few wet days over the last few years but nothing that had enticed him into dipping into his funds. Buying Earl a decent aquarium for Elle for Valentine's Day wouldn't break him.
Elle blinked at him. "Uh, okay, but he doesn't need a palace . . . Earl's more of a nice three bedroom/two bath with a double car garage kind of lobster."
Dick huffed. "Fine. Decide whatever he needs and let me know, and I will get it for him."
He climbed back to his feet and held out a hand to help her to hers. She immediately got up on her toes and kissed him on his chin. Sighing, Dick dipped his head and gave her a real kiss, stopping only when Elle shivered. With the setting of the sun, the temperature nosedived and it was worse here at the shore. He adjusted her scarf more snugly around her neck, tucking the loose ends into her jacket.
"Let's get you home," he murmured, giving her one more peck on her nose. Settling his hands on his hips, he looked down at the bucket doubtfully. "Is there something more we can do for this guy until the morning? I don't think he'll be very happy inside that bucket all night."
"I'm certain he considers it far more comfortable than a boiling pot of water," Elle snarked, winking to assure him he had been forgiven. "And a heck of a lot more comfortable than the inside of you."
Dick rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and chuckled. "Yeah, that was a bit too close, wasn't it?" He checked his watch. All the pet stores were closed by now.
Smiling, her world back on track, Elle considered the matter. "There's a 24-hour Carlmart over in Silverside Shopping Plaza. It's not too far out of our way."
"I didn't think Carlmart had aquariums," Dick remarked, picking up the bucket and turning in the direction of the parking lot.
"They do, but not the size Earl would need," Elle admitted. "But we're going to improvise."
They were silent as they walked back, the only sound were the waves breaking on the lake's dock and the infrequent bumping of the lobster around in the bucket. Dick's leg was freezing where the sloshing water would occasionally splash on him.
As they crossed the street to reach the parking lot, Dick asked, "So, you can talk to marine life?"
Elle glanced at him briefly. "No. Whatever gave you that idea?"
"But . . . Weren't you talking to Earl in the restaurant?" he asked, confused once again. The feeling was becoming increasingly familiar to him since meeting Elle.
"Well, yes, but people talk to animals all the time," she laughed. "Nobody believes the animals can actually understand them."
"Oh . . . really?" He relaxed a bit at that.
"I think what they react to is more in the tone of your voice . . ." Elle continued thoughtfully.
And . . . he was confused again, imagining the lobster noticing Elle's voice to begin with but hell, what did he know? She was descended from a Siren, after all.
He started the car by remote while they were several yards away, hoping to rush the process of heating the car up. The Jag had heated seats though, so it wouldn't take long before they were toasty warm again. He opened the door for her when they reached the vehicle.
"What made you call him Earl?" he asked as Elle slid into the buttery leather seat.
She smiled up at him sweetly after settling the bucket between her feet. "Why wouldn't I call him Earl? It's his name."
Dick closed the door and went to get into the driver's side. "'Why wouldn't I call him Earl?'" he repeated to himself in a falsetto voice as he made his way around the car. "Why do I even bother asking?"
REACTIONS?
Hah! Dick and Elle get a new pet! Can't wait to see the family's reaction to this one . . . With these two, you had to know that they wouldn't go for the normal, average, conventional pet. After all, where would the fun be in that? ;D I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I have. Let me know, please!