A damp coolness had settled in with the first traces of fog as Alfred finished his track to the end of the drive to the entrance gates. The sun just finished setting and already those wisps were treadling out of the shadows with a promise that everything would soon be blanketed in whiteness. He hoped not terribly so, of course. It would be ashamed for the evening to be ruined because some higher power loved irony.
The gate clicked opened easily. There was no squeak of metal like so many people would expect or hope for. It just swung open to allow him outside and access to the little corner that had already been prepared earlier that day. There was a small table in front of the large, brick wall that the gate was attached too. Little decorative kick-knacks were spread about it: plastic spiders and cottony webs, an unlit candle, a carved pumpkin with obviously fake skeletal hand (which someone had colored the tips a garishly bright red in either amateurish attempt to appear scary or jokingly appear as if the nails were painted – it really depended on which one of them had managed to do it without his knowledge) resting in front of it. Ignoring all of it, Alfred walked to the end of the table and next to the cauldron that bubbled with dry ice placed a large bowl of candy. He turned it in such a way that the cartoon witch that was flying in front of a full moon could be seen and took a step back. A note that politely asked that any trick-or-treaters that came by to please only take one piece. It was just good planning that the security camera mounted on the gate could be easily be seen pointed in on that exact spot. With a sharp nod of approval, Alfred headed back up to the manor.
A found grin pulled at the corner of his lips as he was greeted by four pumpkins. Even with all the lights on, they still glowed brightly from within to show off the various, and mostly awful, attempts at faces. Aside from the perfectly executed traditional face of Master Timothy's (which Alfred himself may or may not have helped with), the others appeared to be failed attempts different versions of the same face. Alfred wish he could say that Master Dick's Picasso-esque pumpkin face was the worst, since the boy had insisted on doing it completely on his own. However, the one Master Bruce did for Master Damian had somehow turned into a bigger mess. How that was even possible was rather a mystery, but there was just something all together unsettling about it. Perhaps it is was the overly large one eye and close set second.
More likely it was the uni-brow.
It had been some years since Halloween was celebrated at the manor in sort of real fashion. There were, on occasions, Halloween parties held here, but that mostly coincided with a time period of Master Bruce having to remind everyone that he was just 'a billionaire playboy' because one of Batman's missions had taken longer than it should which made it impossible for him to show his face in the right social circles for awhile. Those parties, which were usually more extravagant than usual to give a reason to his absence, were few and far between, however. Mostly, Halloween was ignored in the Wayne household in favor of other, regular nighttime activities.
This year was different, though.
Alfred hoped that it would continue to be from now on.
Stepping inside, Alfred glanced up at the chandelier that had recently been replaced and noted that it was, thankfully, still firmly attached to fixed ceiling. He doubted that that sort of shenanigans would be repeated any time in the near future. However, he had had the contractors secure the thing with everything that they had. Just in case.
He had just turned his attention to inspecting the refinished floors for stray dirt when Master Bruce emerged from the side entrance. Well, he should actually say Batman emerged. Had it been any other time, Alfred would be raising an disapproving eyebrow, but he knew that it was coming. After all, it was a costume party they were heading to, and what better way to get ahead of Master Damian than to give a reason for his father's new moniker.
The cowl was pulled back, and Master Bruce tugged at the gauntlet that didn't fit just right. In fact, nothing about the costume did, and it barely resembled the real thing that was still safely locked away downstairs. Whoever had designed the knockoff version had done a fairly descent job overall, but it clearly lacked key aspect of the real thing. After all, what Halloween costume really needed Kevlar? However, it clearly made Master Bruce uncomfortable, which really went even further in selling the idea actually.
Maybe he should had gone as himself years ago.
"Is everything alright, sir?"
"Fine, Alfred," he replied as he shifted the cape to try and make it fall correctly. Of course, it didn't. Frowning, he decided to ignore it for the moment and asked, "Are the boys ready?"
"They were just finishing up when I left them a little while ago," Alfred replied.
Master Bruce gave a nod just a droll voice came from above. "Batman? Really, B?"
Master Jason was leaning against the top banister with one hand on his cheek. He smirked down at them before pushing off and casually clomping heavily down the stairs. The heavy, black boots echoed loudly in the large space as he jumped off from the last two stairs and landed hard on the new floor. Normally, Master Bruce would scold him for making so much noise when he should always be practicing stealth, but Master Jason had done it solely for getting a rise out him so he instead chose to ignore it.
With his hands behind his back, Master Jason rocked back onto his heels as Master Bruce said, "Damian."
"Oh," Master Jason replied with a dragged out sound. That smirk reappeared. "Sneaky."
"Good timing, actually," Master Bruce said.
He glanced over Master Jason's costume and frowned pointed at the empty holster that was strapped to his side. No toy guys were allowed in the house, but as Master Jason had pointed out when he picked out the costume, Master Bruce hadn't said anything about holsters. He clearly still didn't approve, though, and Alfred was sure that that rule would be amended by morning.
"Where are the others, Captain Solo?"
Master Jason smiled for real this time. "Wow, you actually know who I am. Me and Dick were betting on that."
"Jason."
"I'm here," Master Timothy said as he came running down the stairs. His shorter legs made it a harder go for him than it had Master Jason, so he had to cling to the banister in his rush. However, even that proved for naught as he tripped on the last step. Alfred took a step forward but was too far away to actually do anything to stop it. Thankfully, Master Bruce's reflexes were as keen as they were, and he easily plucked the boy out of mid-fall.
"Careful," Master Bruce said as he set the boy down on solid ground.
Adjusting his fake horn-rime glasses, Master Timothy said, "Thank you."
"Can you actually see out of those things?" Master Jason asked.
"They're not real," Master Timothy replied as he brushed some imaginary dust from school uniform. Reaching up, he pinched his fingers between the area where the glass should be and said, "See."
Rolling his eyes, Master Jason opened his mouth to reply, but Master Bruce asked instead, "Where's your wand, Tim?"
Behind the glasses, Master Timothy's eyes grew wide. "You know who I am?"
Had it been anyone else, Alfred was sure that they would be staring at the boys were pure incredulity. Master Bruce, however, just leveled a look at them.
"You really think that I'm that out of touch?" he asked.
"Yes," they both answered in mirroring innocent and completely confident tones.
Years of training in both the theater and dealing with a vigilante who could read easily read people made it possible for him to keep a smile off his face. However, judging by the frown on Master Bruce's face, he still knew how amused he actually was.
Turning to face up the staircase, Master Jason yelled, "Hey, Dickiebird! He knows who we are!"
Master Bruce's frowned deepened, as Alfred said, "Master Jason, there is no need to yell."
The boy might have been felt the bite of reprimand a bit more had Master Dick not appeared at the top of the stairs at that moment with the same shocked looked that Master Timothy had worn not five minutes before.
"Really?"
A large smile covered his face as he jumped up and stood on the banister. Alfred sucked in a breathe as the boy balanced himself there with ease and put both fist on his hips as he puff out his green clad chest. The little matching hat with the feather in it clung tightly to head as he cheekily grinned down at them.
"Then you got to know who I am."
"Dick, get down from there," Master Bruce ordered sharply.
Rolling his eyes, Master Dick crouch a little before back flipping off the banister and back onto the solid ground of the second floor landing. Alfred hadn't realized he had even been holding his breath until it all rushed out at once. That boy needed a healthier fear of heights.
As soon as his feet hit the floor, something to the side caught Master Dick's attention. A truly fond smile spread over his face as he reached down and said, "Come on, Dami."
A sharp and angry "No" came in reply.
It was hard to tell exactly what Master Dick did but for several seconds the sounds of a brief struggle echoed down to them as the toddler repeated denied Master Dick's request that he come to him. Alfred can't say he was surprised, really. Master Damian had obviously not cared for the costume that Master Dick had chosen for him, and Alfred had left it to him to struggle to get it on him. Apparently, he had been successful, much to Master Damian's displeasure.
After several more moments passed by, Alfred thought that he would have to go retrieve the child himself, but Master Dick finally managed pick the boy up and bring him down the stairs. Master Damian struggled the entire time, pushing and kicking until Master Dick nearly dropped him at the bottom of the stairs. Not wanting to chance it, he did put him down, and the child went straight to his father, who promptly picked him up with no problems.
"Batman," Master Damian said. "Gway bad."
In all his years, Alfred had never seen toddler scowl the way that Master Damian did as he stared up to Master Bruce. Perhaps, in years to come, that scowl will be able to strike fear into those around him. On someone as young as Master Damian, however, it was just adorable. Especially one dressed as a fat red bird. Even Master Bruce seemed to be having a hard time keeping an amused smile off his face.
"Oh my god, Grayson," Master Jason said. "You made him an Angry Bird?"
"No," Master Dick said. "He's suppose to be a robin."
Master Bruce looked up sharply at Master Dick, but the boy just stared back with a smile that was too innocent to any such thing. Alfred frowned at the pair, unsure exactly what was going on, but remained quite.
Master Jason, however, snorted. "He looks like he wants murder you in your sleep."
His eyes lit up as the smirk from earlier returned, and he ran back up the stairs.
"Let me get a camera."
AN: Yeah, I just wanted to do something cute for Halloween. Sorry if turned out really badly. For anyone who didn't catch it: Dick is Peter Pan, Jason is Han Solo, Tim is Harry Potter, and Damian is a robin/Angry Bird.