A/N: Kudos to Amethyst Asheryn who not only reviews practically every Flash story I've written, but always tries to add some sort of commentary or at least beta corrections.

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Kinetic Theory: noun (Physics): the body of theory that explains the physical properties of matter in terms of the motions of its constituent particles.

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Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth ran his keen eyes down the length of Wally's lithe form as he slowly walked around the jittery man. (Note that in the eyes of the viewed it wasn't just a normal perambulatory stroll either, but a painstakingly-ohmygodI'mgoingtodieofoldagehere--normal human type of plodding along kind of walk.) His manner was not unlike that with which Tim had earlier studied Wally's failed sculpture attempt. That being so, Wally had the feeling that the butler was housing similar less-than-charitable thoughts and had to continuously stifle his instinctive reaction to bolt before his dignity got totally shredded. Really, this was probably not one of his better ideas. Or was it Tim's idea? It had to have been Tim's. Yep, better all-around to accuse the kid especially since Tim had no clue Wally was going to blame him. Easier that way.

Still...

What had I been thinking-accepting social relationships advice from a twelve year old kid?

Maybe he could still find one of those dribble glasses so that Bruce could have a matching pair to remind him why he avoided metas who had failed college courses and thus wore flashy red outfits as compensation for the fact that they had the will power of a sugar addict in a candy store?

"So, can you fix him?" Tim asked, pointing at his fidgeting companion. "Some sort of a selective surgical removal of what makes him so hyperactive?"

Yeah...fix me, Jeeves. Wait...what the fu-?

"Uh...Robin?" Green eyes glanced warily at Tim, trying to judge if the boy was truly naive about how that sentence's phrasing had sounded. Wally could have sworn the juvenile delinquent was masking a smirk. Drake was a true Bat Kid though. It was hard to tell when they were just joking or plotting bloody retribution on the sly. Dick had once-

"If not I to successfully perform a Pygmalion operation on Master Wallace, then who would you suggest for such a drastic procedure, Young Master Timothy, as I am unaware of any person named Professor Henry Higgins currently in residence within Gotham?"

Wally immediately locked eyes on the butler as he broke out in a sweat upon hearing the words operation and drastic procedure. There was no call to go chipping at the famous Flash physique profile, no sir! Why, think of the Twin Cities costs alone if they had to change all those statues and posters and...

That couldn't be good for the city coffers during these hard times.

No.

Not to mention he already hated those-rare! Very rare!-events when he screamed like a girl. It was hard to keep up a good superhero image when you were caught off-I mean totally off kind of off-guard and screamed like a girl.

Unless you were a girl and were named Black Canary; but even then her scream wasn't exactly a feminine soprano seeing as it fell more into the musical range of bass (with an extra 'ad' after the 'b' for spice.)

Not that he'd say so to her face since Ollie was another one of those billionaire types who had plenty of money to back up his bouts of jealousy-inspired creativity.

Although he would hardly have to worry about Wally making a move on anyone's girlfriend if this Doctor Higgins (professor, doctor...did semantics really matter?) got his knives on Wally's running mate.

"Uh, guys? I was thinking in terms of a personality retcon only," Wally clarified, hands held protectively over his south-of-center region. "I kind of like all my other action accessories kept in the original packaging?"

Alfred raised a brow at Wally's worried mien. "Never fear, Master Wallace. I was taking brainless incompetents and transforming them into functioning menservants years before you were born." The butler looked an embarrassed Wally straight in the eye, making the man perspire even more than he was already. "Are you sure you wish to give yourself over to me, young sir? You will find that I am not an easy task master nor will your transformation be..quick."

Like that was in doubt, thought Wally-who was belatedly realizing that anyone who had raised Bruce Wayne from a diapered tot to The Goddamned Batman had to be one of the most hardened men outside of a maximum security prison-and that man was not smiling; no, not at all. Wally was really inclined to run like hell for high water and hide under the covers-heck-the mattress...Superman's mattress...at the Frozen Fortress of Solitaire (or some such name that bespoke of utter boredom), but would that just tick off The Goddamned BatButler even more?

Probably.

Maybe if he went to visit (a.k.a hide out) with Jay for the next decade? No. Garrick's wife probably wouldn't like that seeing as he'd emptied out their fridge the last time he visited and that had only been for five minutes. Besides, there was Bat Tech to consider. Bat Tech was everywhere. He bet even Jay's helmet had been bugged with Bat Tech even though the man probably wore that thing in the shower since Wally had never seen the elder Flash without it-well, that was exaggerating, but where the heck Jay even stored it when he wasn't dressed as The Flash since it couldn't very well fit in his pant's pocket-

Pant's pocket.

Fix.

An increasingly unnerved speedster realized that two people were expecting a reply from him. He exchanged glances with Tim before warbling. "Just tell it to me straight...is the oper-procedure non-reversible and is it going to hurt?"

"Undoubtedly," Alfred allowed himself a tiny smirk. (He knew full well what the Justice League Founder was thinking and delaying the specifics like this had been a sweet bit of revenge-childish as that was-for all the pranks the meta had entangled the men under his care into either as co-conspirators or as victims.) "Since time is short, I will have to resort to negative as well as positive reinforcements and being as you have exhibited a tendency towards thickheaded behavior in the recent past...some pain is inevitable. However, to put your mind at ease before you pass out on my newly waxed floor...your various natural accessories shall remain intact." He leaned in a little with just the faintest trace of amusement in his voice. "Pygmalion is a theatrical play, Master Wallace-not a procedure inflicted on the male anatomy."

Feeling relieved by the clarification-yet humiliated by his needing one in the first place, Wally removed the hands protecting his groin region only to start playing with his fingers. The butler's candid assessment of his less-than-stellar qualities really stung, but if he was going to prove to Bruce he could be a responsible adult?

No pain no gain. They used to say.

Sometimes Wally wondered if they had been closet masochists.

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Pennyworth considered his options to the ridiculous proposal Dick's and Tim's friend had come to him with.

At first he had thought it yet another of West's ideas to amuse himself by eating up excess time. However, even though the man had shown signs of true distress at being on the receiving end of bodily harm...he had not hit the highway as it were. It would seem the unique proposal for a gift to Bruce was genuine after all.

Which rather complicated matters.

Alfred knew that The Flash meant well enough by offering to indenture himself to the Wayne household. However, it was highly unlikely Bruce would acknowledge such a selfless act for his personal benefit. The young man's gift would be rejected out of hand regardless of Master Wally's feelings; the whole endeavor would end up being a waste of time for all and potentially damaging to the boy's self esteem.

He was inclined to respectfully decline any involvement.

Yet the fact remained that this had not been the first special request put to him today...and there were his own feelings on the matter.

Alfred felt his heart melt at the sad sight before him: a renowned hero who looked half starved and dressed like a pauper because he was too proud to ask for help and none of his fellow crime fighters in the high and mighty Watchtower saw beyond the cheery and clownish attitude enough to notice the man's fiscal distress? What was the world coming to? Indeed, when the opportunity arose, he would be giving Master Bruce a few choice words on his lack of perception in the case of his coworker's need.

However, maybe he was judging his charge too harshly? It could be that Bruce had already noted the problem yet also knew that Mr. West would not voluntarily accept anything that he saw as charity.

Well! If Master Wallace wished to be helped in this odd endeavor, then Alfred would help him indeed...but in much more practical matters than the speedster supposed. Matters like getting enough food, having proper clothing that allowed for spending more time out of The Flash uniform (the butler suspected that the reason Wallace was nearly always dressed as his superhero self was because the red suit was more durable than his civilian clothing), and basically learning to take better care of himself.

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"Master Wallace...I did not say it would be impossible. Merely...difficult."

Lured in by the sincere concern he saw in Pennyworth's eyes, Wally found himself nodding in agreement. "Yeah...okay, I agree to your being in charge over me-yeow!" A microsecond later he was gripping his smarting knuckles and staring accusingly at the butler, "Jeez, Jeeves, that hurt!" He quickly backed up a half step. All trace of sympathy from Pennyworth had vanished without a trace. His eyes had gone all steely in a manner that a younger Bruce had probably copied for his own Bat glare.

"Lesson number one, Mister West: a sophisticated man of employ to the upper classes does not show signs of agitation either by voice or by activity. He especially does not toy with his fingers as if they were tiddlywinks. Are you positive you wish to proceed to the second lesson? You may still back out without my thinking less of you."

An escape hole! He could take it without-

An image of Batman looking down his nose and huffing in unsurprised disappointment floated before his eyes, silently accusing: I knew you didn't have the guts to go through with it. Useless, spineless wimp.

Wally straightened up at the imaginary challenge, determinedly ignoring his still stinging fingers. He was The Flash, damn it! He'd stood up against dangerous criminals since his pre-teen years. Backing down from this was out of the question.

"Be as cool as Captain Cold's cucumber. Got it." He winced at a sharp poke to his diaphragm.

"Very good. Lesson number two is to discontinue the colorful colloquialisms in favor of utilizing the language properly." The speedster started to open his mouth, but thought better of it and clamped it shut. He earned a faint smile of approval in return. "It seems you can be taught," a droll Pennyworth observed. "Well, then, from now until you leave this household or quit?"-here Wally grimaced, but said nothing-"you shall refer to me as Master Pennyworth and I to you as Mister West..or Mister Wallace West if I am particularly displeased with your attempts." He glanced again at Wally's ragged set of well used blue-collar attire that was of such quality that even the seediest of thrift stores would reject them. "Since clothes can define the man, a complete change in wardrobe is definitely in order. By the time I'm done, Master Bruce himself will not recognize you." He hesitated and considered that. "At least not as the profoundly immature Wally West."He motioned for his new student to follow him. "Come along then, my aspiring Eliza Doolittle, our first act shall be getting you presentable. You will avail yourself of a hot bath while I find you a change of clothing. I believe something of Master Dick's might suffice for your particular build."

"Um..clothing?" Wally faltered, looking down at the things he'd salvaged from a garbage can month's ago. "About that, I can't pay for anything just now-not that I don't have money, but it's all kind of tied up-" by the banks which won't let me borrow some.

"As an apprentice, you will earn a weekly stipend for your basic needs. Room and board will be provided. Your initial uniform will be on loan. However, if you ruin it, the cost will come out of your stipend."

"Oh...you mean like earning a paycheck? Sounds fine and dandy to me, Fred." Wally smiled at the thought of having something besides lint in his jean pockets, then suddenly balked. "I thought you said my manhood was safe?" The question as quickly followed by a put-out exclamation of, "Hey! I'll have you know I do quite a lot of stuff!"

"Unfortunately, we are all well aware of that, Mister Wallace." Alfred slapped him on the back of the head. "Also, seeing as there is no Fred in this household. Who were you addressing?"

"Uh...my speedster friend? He moves so fast you must have not seen..." Wally's face collapsed into a contrite attitude upon seeing Alfred's scowl grow darker. "Sorry, Master Pennyworth."

"Correct, Mister West. Now proceed down the hall to the fourth door on the left where you will avail yourself of the facilities. I expect you to take your time in the bath...if you do not, I will have to check behind your ears to see how well you did your first task-and surely you don't wish to be treated like an irresponsible child anymore than strictly necessary?"

"Uh fourth door..left...long hot bath-clean behind ears," Wally nodded. "Take my time. No problem." He zoomed down the hall. "Wow! This is the most complete collection I've ever seen! There's even a Justice League set!"

Dear lord no! "That's the right-side door, Mister West! I clearly stated for you to take the left-"

A chorus of different squeaks and then some vaguely recognizable impersonations were heard interspersed with the sounds of splashing water:

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"BatzDucky, *quack* I'm going to turn you into Duck Soup! But before I do that, I'm going to put a permanent molded smile on your face! Take that! Mwahaahaa! *quack*"

"Someone's in a *quack* fowl mood, huh, JokerDucky? And why do you sound like PenguinDucky? *quack* Scratch that-why do I *quack* sound like *quack* PenguinDucky?"

"Mwahahahha! That's because my patented Rubber Ducky Gas *quack*has turned everyone into bath time fun!"

*quack* Egads! I have a *quack* in my throat! How will I sound scary during *quack* Justice League meetings like this? Boy Wonder! *quack* Help!"

"Actually, its the Duckling Wonder now. *quack* But I did manage to *quack* get in touch with someone at The Watchnest."

"Don't worry, BatzDucky. *quack* I'm sending SuperDucky, WonderDucky, HawkDucky, MartianDucky, and The Green Lantern Ducky to fly over and rescue you."

"It's The *quack* Justice Flock! Ain't I the Lucky Duck? But why aren't you also coming, FlashDucky?"

"Because *quack* I'm stuck at the Monitor Pond *quack* taking a bath per Alfred. *quack quack*."

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Alfred muttered under his breath as he passed by Tim. "I'm going to regret this until my dying day."

Tim shrugged as he fell in behind. "I guess I should have warned you about his puppy dog look, huh?"

(Alfred did not think Tim appeared sorry at all and considered that the current Robin The Boy Wonder understood more about the Flash than anyone save perhaps for Master Richard.)

"An update on his loss of sanity would have been most timely, Master Tim. You realize that Master Bruce will kill us regardless of the reasons for doing this? Even without Mr. West's having discovered his bath toy mementos from that Toy Man caper?"

That thought gave Tim pause. He quickly rallied with "But on the bright side-think of the amount of good karma you'll have amassed from this alone. You could be reincarnated as a super villain and still come out ahead."

"I'll settle for not having to explain all of this to Master Bruce when we get caught."

"If we get caught," Tim corrected. "You are the only one I know who can successfully pull something past The Batman."

"True. However, I never tried to pull anything while hamstrung with Master Wallace's participation before."

"Good thing I'm just the innocent kid in this then," Tim grinned.

Innocent my eye. "Imp."

They both paused to listen to their new employee continue his bath time fun.

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"SuperDucky flies above people. BatzDucky hides from them. WonderDucky preaches to them. Me? I waddle alongside them. My name is Wally Webfeet and I'm the Fastest Rubber Ducky Alive! *quack*"

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"We're doomed, aren't we?"

"Utterly."

A/N: If there isn't an Earth dimension made of sentient Rubber Ducks...there darn well ought to be.