A/N: I own everything here that DC wouldn't want to own up to. Eh...except the song lyrics. Well, excepting the exception of the upcoming ones I filk (parody.) And the stuff that DC obviously doesn't own like Captain Marvel insinuations and Red Dye #7.
Just figure like I do that I don't own anything of financial or pop culture importance and we should both be fine.
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I tried looking up Alfred's bio, but couldn't find any info on his eye color. Since I have a vague recollection of them looking pale during those scenes in Starcrossed...I went with gray. Feel free to notify me if that's wrong so I can fix it. Unless I actually edited out that part already and forgot to fix this a/n. That happens as I'm a rabid last-second-and-beyond editor.
DAMN IT, FFN...FIX THE &%#! EDITOR TO ACCEPT DASHES ALREADY! I'm getting tired of having to make due with purely ... and () of late. Severely cramping my Flash muse. Flash is meant to be dashing!
Kinetics 7: Cat's in the Cradle and the Silver Spoon, Little Boy Blue and the Man In the Moon...
.
Naturally, Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennysworth just had to be quick on the scene.
(Was the man a closet speedster?)
For a moment Wally feared that the piercing scrutiny of his mentor would enable the butler to see right through the nigh impeccable disguise of 'Mr. Bartholomew East'. (This induced a moment of fervent prayer on Wally's part that Alfred was not part Kryptonian (which would do a lot toward explaining the speed of his arrival.) As far as he was concerned, Pennysworth already had eyes in the back of his head so it did not seem far-fetched that Alfred might possess x-ray vision as well. Wally didn't care what anyone said...that man had powers beyond the 'normal' scale! For that matter, so did Bruce...he was just super-sneaky at hiding them from everyone. Heck, for all the League knew the whole lot of the Bat Clan were alien cops sent to Earth to watch for potential super felons who might one day threaten their home planet's supremacy. Tim and Dick were the 'good cops' while Alfred and Bruce were the 'bad cops'. The Bat Scowl was a defense mechanism meant to dissuade the curious from getting too close and exposing their cover. Sort of like that Notice-Me-Not thing the TARDIS had on Doctor Who...and there was something to speculate on because the Doctor knew everything and didn't that remind you of someone? Not that he would. (Well, he wouldn't if he could recall just what it was that he wouldn't because now he was just confused about what his mind had started thinking on in the first place, but seemed to have lost track of.)
'I need an experienced mental secretary with a master's degree in filing thoughts.'
Watchtower:
"Good luck finding one willing to take on that level of extremely hazardous conditions."
Besides, Wally thought, if he dwelt on stuff like alien invaders too much he'd start sporting a blue fedora and removing aglets from his laces which might add suspicion that he knew something he shouldn't. Then Batz would morph into RoboCop and haul his ass to the nearest Saturnine penitentiary where they turned asteroids into minus-grade pea gravel in order to keep Saturn's front yard decor looking more rad than Jupiter's paint job because Saturninians was sort of jealous of Jupiter's bigger size and that was their way of maintaining their rep as the coolest looking planet in the solar system.
It was sort of like Turf Wars: The Planetary Edition.
(Personal note: add laces to my Flash boots so alien cops can see I'm not worried about aglets and stop watching so much science fiction and YouTube documentaries put out by user: 'The?'.)
Besides, being so intent on their duty surely the Bat Clan were more tolerant of some of humanity's misdemeanor leanings and would not be sending exuberant speeders to work busting asteroids down to pebbles in the Asteroid Belt...so as long as he didn't call more attention to himself than necessary he should be okay.)
Alfred's scowling gray eyes latched onto him.
(Hopefully. Because it was severely doubtful that Shayera would loan him her mace for a 50-Saturninian year stint at masonry work.)
The butler's lips may have tightened in disapproval when they fell on 'Mr. East', but in fact Alfred was distracted by other considerations then a petrified server worried about getting meteorite dust under his fingernails; in truth it was only a passing glance that he visited over everyone within the vicinity of the mishap. As manservant of Wayne Manor his first priority was assessing the victims of the caviar bombardment and smoothing any distress that had been incurred. Most of the guests looked merely stunned and a little annoyed to find pickled roes attached to their designer clothing. Well...Master Bruce's hospitality reputation would remain well-looked upon if his manservant had anything to say on the matter.
"May I be of service?"
An undignified clamor started up at his polite inquiry, but Alfred seemed to keep his calm despite it. Wally suspected that from the inside Alfred was assigning derogatory names to each and every one of them, but outwardly the butler was the soul of remorse over their plight. (He decided right there that if Alfred had not chosen to masquerade as a manservant of Earth, then the alien cop would have made an excellent government employee.) It was both inspiring and daunting to watch. Some profuse apologies here, liberal flattery there, and a promise to reimburse the cost of their attire was sufficing to mollify everyone. The level of Manservant Mastery going on before his eyes sure looked a lot harder to attain than running really fast though.
(Aliens had it so easy what with their natural-born abilities, Wally sighed. They didn't even have to get theirs via being fried by a lightning storm that had left hair prone towards the frizzies for weeks afterward. Unfortunately this event had happened about a few years before the Afro became big so he'd been a bit ahead of his time for that -thankfully- short-lived fashion mistake. Not that looking like he had a giant peach growing around his head would have helped his popularity any...although it had almost landed him a starring role in Miss Kettlefish's artwork for the Blue Valley County Fair recruitment poster. Almost, because Manny Housengam had that accident with his sister's hair dryer, the blond dye, and the super-hold hair spray the night before the audition which won him that coveted spot as well as fame and fortune in The Kansas County Fair Banana Parade's main float. (Yes, that would be the one named On The Dole.)
Meanwhile Wally couldn't even get his personal county fair exhibit entry attempt (a lousy bean sprout) to brave topping the soil surface of a Styrofoam cup. Of course back then it had been postulated that the plant world held rudimentary feelings.
Maybe his 'peach' Afro had intimidated it?
(Up in the Watchtower, J'onn consigned the rest of his peach/banana cobbler into the refuse bin with a sigh and reached for the Martian equivalent of Pepto Bismo.
But back to Alfred and his awesome ability to schmooze and mollify that was making Wally feel jealous.)
All-in-all, Wally was starting to think he was never going to make a good manservant as he was just too outclassed by the maestro. Although it must be said that the speedster wasn't without his own experience with apologizing to multiple persons over a single incident. Why, just last month...
Apology #1:
"Sheesh, I'm sorry I was dreaming about Duck Dodgers non-stop last night, Marvin...I mean, J'onn. It won't happen again. No, no, I don't hold any racial stereotypes against aliens. Uh...can I borrow the Acme Earth Blaster Cannon you keep hidden in that simulated yodeler get-up to get rid of the roaches at my place? You don't?" *whew* "Just checking!
...Well, you don't have to get all bent out of shape about it."
Apology #2:
"Sheesh, I'm sorry I picked the neon green cans from the Paint Emporium to spruce up the Monitor Room, Supes! It was their half-off special offer of the day. How was I to know they were a subsidiary of LexCorp? I thought the name was in honor of your dog or something. It won't happen again. By the way, someone called L.L sent you a get well card...I didn't know Hallmark made lead envelopes...must be to keep the card from getting damaged in the mail. Want me to open it for you seeing as you're in a full-body anti-toxin wrap? Hey, no trouble at all, Supes...oh look..they sent a 'notice of regret' and a free paint sample; maybe we misjudged them? Wow...they make 'Krypto Night' paint in blue as well as green with a red coming out this summer. I'd love to see the red for my place. You should use this blue in your room, Supes. It looks real serene. See, it even brought a dopey smile to your face."
Apology #3:
"Sheesh, I'm sorry I brought over Kara's cat, Shay. But she asked me...well, 'threatened' rather...with watching over it while she was gone to Beetle Juice or some such place. 'Fluffy' was just so lonely at my apartment and I thought you'd like it for company while I was on Monitor Duty even if Ralph insisted I was wrong... on second thought I should have probably fed it first before I dropped it off in the vicinity you were sleeping in, huh? Or asked if it was homicidal towards things with feathers. On the funny side, it sure is appropriately named now, isn't it? W'reck room? Heh. Get it?
What'dya mean that if it was so fond of feathers it should have attacked my head first? That was uncalled...okay! It won't happen aga...urk..."
Apology #4:
"Sheesh, I'm sorry I used your lasso as a clothesline, Wondy! Only, I lost a bet with Ralph and it was the only rope I could find that was long enough to handle a month's load of Elastic Man's laundry what with the Watchtower laundromat being broken. Oh...that's 'cause I sorta kinda tried to use it to mix up some concrete to patch up this hole in the recreational room that I sorta maybe was responsible for. Honestly, I swore I put the stuff in the washing machine and not the dryer. Guess I should have asked you or Shay first, you know?
Well, don't women understand domestic stuff better than guys do? Uh...Wondy Babe? I don't think spaghetti spoons-were-deshwined-fah-thesh-echshack-pupash."
Apology #5:
"Sheesh, I'm sorry I brought you the wrong suitcase, GL! It won't happen again...and Green Arrow promised to mail yours back tomorrow. Hey, at least it's all green and not some other color, so turn that frown upside-down and count your blessings. I could have grabbed Red Arrow's instead, you know. Anyway, thanks a heap for coming with me on this road trip until they lift the ban on my being in the Watchtower or anywhere within a thousand miles of the East Coast of North America. Er...GL? You know with that (um...no other way to put it) that bald spot that's covering your head, maybe you should consider wearing a hat more often anyway? It isn't? You actually -want- to look like Luthor? Are you pissed off at Supes or something? GL, buddy, I thought that ring was only supposed to glow like that when you were about to attack someone? GL?
...Hello, hotel operator? I'm calling long distance to discuss the fine print on tonight's rental agreement and tomorrow's subsequent billing? Does an unforeseen 'most powerful alien weapon in the universe' discharge fall under 'renter liability for damage to hotel property' or 'Act of God'?"
Apology #6:
"Sheesh, I'm sorry I painted those raised eyebrow lines and Bambi eyes on your cowl lenses, Batz! You were out like a dark light after that giant baseball I dodged clobbered you and I didn't want anyone to think you were asleep on the job while I took off after Toyman. It won't happen again. But you've got to admit the cowl's more friendly this way. You have no idea how unnerving those plain white slit things are against black. They've been giving me the heebie-jeebies...
Oh. You do know? On the plus side...or should that be the ugly side? Two Face was laughing so hard he was easy to nab and install back in his jail cell.
Okay, okay, already..I'll fix it.
There, all white again.
Huh?
Crimeny, Batz, what's your beef now?
Well, I used some old typewriter white-out on the lenses because they were out of permanent ink remover.
Man, that's ungrateful...do you know how hard it is to find typewriter white out these days? Anyway, you are The Batman, aren't you? I don't believe there's no sonar gadget in that belt of yours.
No, I do 'not' do these kinds of things on purpose. You're just overly paranoid.
You're never going to shake that The Goddamned Batman title if your face freezes that way, Batz.
Ha! *cough wheeze* Told him I could outrun the Batplane's search and destroy auto option!
Freaking hell...silent hypo darts? Good thing the summer heat's softened the road asphalt a...tad...zzzzzz"
Okay, yes...well...
Yeah, Wally had the experience, but Alfred clearly had the talent for sweet talking down mad dogs. He was actually placating everyone.
Oh dear.
Almost everyone.
Every crowd held at least one problem person, it seemed. You know the type? The person who cramped other people's styles. At least that was what John had told him during a heart-to-heart when he'd offered to stay with John and help make conversation when Marie wanted to stay at GL's place for dinner.
Wally figured he'd been talking about Batz because Bruce could be such a wet blanket when he was dressed as the Dark Knight.
It hadn't been a very fun dinner anyway as both seemed more incline to stare at him rather than play Movie Trivia. Could he help it that he was so engaging while poor John just sucked at conversing with a girl?
(Which was probably why John was mad at him.)
The injured guest had fully regaining her feet, looking more surprised than truly hurt. A cunning demeanor replaced even that quickly enough as she smiled craftily at Alfred.
"Alfie, don't bother offering me your meaningless apologies...I want this man fired. No, make that arrested...for assault and battery as well as whatever else my lawyer can come up with. In addition, I demand a personal apology from Mr. Wayne for this debacle." She gestured at her gown (and when they say that black shows everything they weren't kidding. Every roe stood out like rhinestones...if rhinestones looked and smelled like dead fish babies.) "My dress is positively ruined and I've more marine-life eggs in my hair than Aquaman." She flipped the right side of hair...sending more imported sturgeon eggs off to rejoin their brethren. "Never in my life have I had to suffer such indignities."
'Of course you want me fired,' Wally silently huffed at this unfairness because things had been going so well before she had shown up.
...Comparatively.
Now it was all shot to hell and she wanted him on that particular one-way-ticket space shuttle ride.
'Arrested? Wouldn't that newspaper heading look grand in the Flash Museum? Besides, I don't like stripes. The Rogues do the busy patterns...I prefer solids. Wonder if a black and white striped Flash jail suit would make me look fat? Demons had lawyers? Well, that's just symbiotic. Oh, and a fallen fiend living in Hell wouldn't have indignities to suffer? That's why it was called Hell, Lady Sucky.'
Alfred was not exactly happy either.
'Lovely...of course it had to be her.'
"Ah...Ms. Kyle...I apologize nonetheless for your rather gracefully landing..upon your bum," Alfred dryly began (looking much less concerned now that he saw exactly just who the most 'injured' patron was. "May I add that it is a surprise to see you here? I wasn't aware you were on our guest list. Now Arkham's..." His trailing voice dripped of sarcasm on the last as he certainly had not invited any of Batman's rogue gallery to the gala. Catwoman was more than just an annoyance with a penchant for thievery, though. She held an unhealthy interest in Wayne affairs and even seemed to know his young master's deepest secrets. That made her dangerous even if she had so far kept quiet about it. It was a matter of great consternation to Alfred that Bruce tolerated the situation.
Really, how Master Bruce could carry on about Mr. West's behavior when he let this ocelot into his heart was unfathomable.
"Would you be needing some ice after your unfortunate fall? If I may elucidate, by 'ice' I mean the frozen Perrier variety and not those precious stones you are so fond-" He was interrupted by a flustered server who, apparently, was part of this debacle. Oddly enough, Alfred didn't recall seeing the man when the caterers had arrived; albeit he did recall seeing him moving about earlier. Perhaps he had come in at the same time as the band?
"Arrest me? Me? You're the one who was going for my nuts, you demonic-lady sex-fiend thing!"
'Good gracious, the man seemed quite perturbed...or maybe just disturbed. This will not do.'
Alfred blinked, casting his eyes to the floor where several globs of round objects were sticking to the parquet flooring.
"You weren't serving nuts," the butler observed upon spotting the ruined caviar.
"Tell that to the Sucks-A-Bus!" Wally pointed an accusing finger at the woman who'd tried to manhandle him...womanhandle...demonhandle? (Just what was the non-gender specific politically correct term for being molested by a litigation-loving demon slut?)
"Did you just call me a succubus?" Selina's lips curled-into a pleased leer. "Flattery will get you most everywhere with me, Gingerbread...except out of a lawsuit. I plan to see you on display in court...sweating...after I sue your pants off. Preferably in that order." She eyed him up and down in a manner that left nothing to the imagination.
(Wally covered his central region with the silver platter and mentally added the strongest antiperspirant soap he could find to his shopping list. Also some holy water. Did they sell holy water in a roll-on or just a spray?)
"Ms. Kyle, such behavior is uncalled for. This man..." Alfred began.
"Lunatic," Selina corrected.
"Am not!" Wally hotly contested. (If there was one thing he was not crazy about right now it was the moon and anything to do with it. Also Suck-A-Buses, but that went without saying.)
"This person..." Alfred tried again.
"Owes me his..." Selina insisted.
"You're not getting my soul!" A shaky Wally grabbed a nearby fork, butter knife and spoon from an innocent bystander in order to form an elongated 'silver cross' which he held up before his face. "Enog eb elive! Og! tarped-I mean...uh...no...er...traped! Yeah!"
Nothing happened.
'Oh-come-on!'
Wally tried again.
"Aranoyas! Sretsub-tsohg-?llac-annog-ay-ohw!"
Still nothing extraordinary transpired.
(Damn it! Zatanna always made it look so easy!)
"...is happily not part of my staff," Alfred concluded. He looked over at Wally who was till trying to ward off EVIL with a dinner utensil set. "Although I do agree that his mental state is certainly in question." The server looked betrayed at his assessment...like a kicked puppy.
"You're supposed to be on my side, Master.." the server seemed to catch himself "...Card. Where did I put that? Need to buy an exorcism."
Alfred frowned. This behavior was most unusual...and...and... "Do I know you?"
"Um...not unless you regularly talk with non-magical people with dark hair and thick glasses?" Wally countered while not taking his eyes off the 'demon' for one second. Alfred's right eyebrow rose. Wally swallowed, bringing one hand over to point at own chest...the one currently holding onto a pointy fork. "Hey, I'm the victim here! I'm not a-*quack!*" Wally smiled a sickly 'oh crud' smile, his face pale behind the tanning creme. "Must be coming down with something. Tell you what...let's just call it squaresies between everyone and forget the whole thing. I'll go back to my bed and she can go back to The Bottomless Pit."
"Are you all right, man?"
"Just ducky. I mean...everything is fine." As soon as he could he was trading in FlashDucky's security blanket..er...defensive Bat Cape for Captain-AmeriDucky's Shield of Invincibility...or whatever that over-sized Frisbee of Patriotic Pretentiousness was called. Of course there was that IronDucky accessory, but putting full-body iron armor on a rubber duck just seemed silly...unless it was for deep pond diving and he wasn't going there. Couldn't risk FlashDucky drowning because knowing Aquaman, Arthur Curry wouldn't save his duck's behind out of pure Atlantean spite for traitorous land breather toys.
...
Alfred was by this time seriously considering calling for the paddy wagon.
"That's rather debatable, Mr...East?" He sounded dubious about the name, sensing that he was missing something which was right in front of his face.
Right in front of his face...
Right in front of his face like a pair of cheap Superman Halloween costume accessory spectacles!
"West?" His eyes narrowed to slits.
"North, Zouth..." the speedster's voice was a nervous Pseudo-Ethnic waffle "...what iz zee difference in zis global economy?"
Oh yes...it was definitely West. Though the man was going to be South (by approximately six feet) once Alfred got him out of here.
"Are we playing Twenty Questions?"
The butler stiffened in recognition just as the 'I live for amusement' voice of playboy Bruce Wayne commanded everyone's attention.
"What seems to be the trouble, Alfred?" Bruce Wayne lofted his half-full wine glass in the woman's direction, the blur of mild drunkenness clouding his normally sharp blue eyes. "Why, hello, Ms. Kyle...you look like something the cat dragged in. Or are rye cracker hair accessories the latest fashion in Europe?"
Selina hissed like an annoyed tigress at his smirking appraisal of her state of dishevelment. She primly stole a mirrored trivet off a snack table in order to check her appearance, fastidiously brushing off the remains of the appetizers. That only seemed to amuse Wayne all the more. "Fashions changed again already?"
"Your staff member here hit me over the head, Bruce darling; without provocation, I might add."
(Wally was sorely tempted to toss a garlic sauce at her even if he wasn't sure if it worked on Suck-A-Buses; but he refrained, mostly because he was trying to blend into the background. It had nothing-absolutely nothing-to do with her looking like a vampire in heat. Only now he wasn't sure just who she wanted on her dance card as he could swear she was flirting full-tilt with Wayne.)
"I demand he be arrested." Her little diatribe earned her a chuckle from the host.
"Don't be silly, m'dear, Alfred would never assault-"
"Not Alfred...this...incompetent child you hired."
"I'd be careful with that claim of child labor law abuse, Ms. Kyle. You know what people will say about your own age if you start claiming an adult looks far younger than he truly is." Bruce rambled on in a tipsy manner as he eyed where the uptight woman was pointing. The accused was bent down and facing the other way, studiously picking up the much abused caviar from the floor and muttering patrons alike as would a baboon searching for fleas. The sight brought on a strong sense of deja-vu. Could it be the same man who had been pilfering caviar earlier? Yes...yes it was. "I'm sure it was just an accident, Selina," Bruce attempted to soothe while keeping one eye on the server, "and I hope this little mishap doesn't end our business venture?
That got her attention centered on him again.
"Would that business venture involve a merger of our common...assets?" Selina coyly asked.
"Stranger things have happened of late," Bruce made a show of playfully thinking it over. "I'm open to negotiate. "Why don't we leave Alfred to take care of the nastier details while you and I discuss the more pleasant particulars?"
"Indeed, sir. I'm sure I can take care of the situation on my own." As much as he disapproved of Selina, Alfred was only too eager to get 'East' away from Wayne before Bruce recognized his team mate.
"It's okay...I can dispose of these fish eggs on my own," 'Bart East' volunteered, holding out a handful of dirty roes.
Alfred's face was as animated as stone. Not a good sign.
"Then to forestall any more mishaps, I'd best accompany you to the outside refuse bins where we keep the waste material."
Wally gulped. Oh yeah, Alfred was pissed.
Man, I need a hero!
The hero arrived, but not in the way or shape that Wally could have wished for:
"Hold on, Gramps. Not before he sings. We have a contract." Mr. Hassex unfurled the paper Wally had signed. "Signed, sealed, and delivered."
Sometime during the altercation the manager had returned to get his substitute singer. He placed one possessive hand on Wally's shoulder, bustling him on stage and leaving Alfred with a copy of The Devil's Covenant. It was making a strange sort of sense to Wally now: Hassex and Suck-A-Bus were a tag team. This was all a concerted scheme to damn his soul to Hell.
"Mr. Hassex, I must protest that-"
Yes...Alfred! Alfred was his Daniel Webster there to defend him against Ol' Scratch even if it was only to take behind the woodshed afterward!
"At least until this gig is over. Then he's yours again."
"A moment that fills me with anticipatory elation," Alfred growled at Wally, who blanched in the face of the man's simmering rage.
Then again, was Hades really that bad? Maybe it just got a bad rep because of Satan's presence and the being underground thing. Like Batman's cave. The Batcave was actually pretty cool what with the giant penny and the dino and all the rad cars. Of course you had to overlook the fact that Batman would be there too and Batz was sort of a Devil's stand-in when he went all Goddamned and all.
"Wow. I feel so valued," Wally muttered under his breath. "Can I at least have a raise before I'm fired one way or another?"
Hassex shook his head. "Personally, I think you've got enough lumps coming to your noggin, kid."
Meanwhile, Alfred wasn't the only one left bristling at Hassex's attitude towards the butler and Wayne confidant. "Nobody treats..." A slight but firm grip on his arm stopped him.
"Let him go, Bruce. Alfred can take care of himself and it's not like Mr. East can run away from you." Selina smirked at him like they'd shared a private joke. "Now about that business venture? Would that be of the day or the night variety?" She bumped her hip against his. Bruce sighed internally as he draped an arm around his guest's shoulders. "The one we're going to discuss, of course," was his noncommittal reply.
"Oh, let's do."
He steered her towards the liquor bar. "First off, I don't recall your name being on the guest list."
"When has such a trifle like that ever stopped me? Besides, you know how I detest leaving paper trails."
"True," Bruce agreed. "You prefer to keep your business firmly in the litter box." While she pouted he poured them both a fresh glass of wine.
"Aren't we the irritated tom today?"
"Now why would that be?" he asked her with a touch of snappishness. Some nearby party attenders looked in his direction. "Let's take this somewhere more private." He headed towards a side room for all the world looking like a playboy about to indulge in some favorite past time...the kind that wore a short skirt.
"Mmm...definitely a night-time alliance," Selina gave the onlookers a happy little wave as she hung onto his arm. "Now my whiskers are tingling with anticipation."
"Do songs get called on account of rain?" Maybe he could set off the sprinkler system? With any luck he and FlashDucky would be fine while at least the witches out there would melt.
Hassex fixed a microphone to his jacket. "Don't be more of an idiot than I'm already taking you for. Here..." he stuffed some papers into Wally's hands "these are the lyrics for the opening songs. Don't lose them and keep them in order. You might also try not to be obvious if you have to refer to them while up there."
"No problem." Wally glanced over the papers...in reality he was shuffling through them super fast to speed memorize the words. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me? I haven't heard most of these since...never. Did they even have musical instruments when these were written?" Finished, he crammed the lot into a pocket.
Monitor duty was never this bad.
Watchtower: J'onn tagged that one as future blackmail material.
In a shadowed alcove, two dark-haired young men in pressed suits watched with interest. The shorter one could no longer suppress a groan.
"You sure we shouldn't intervene now?" He'd been asking that every few minutes. Ever since Wally had been sighted leaving the kitchens. Still his partner kept insisting:
"Nah...it's not that awful so far." Richard glanced around. "The place is still standing."
"That's just because he hasn't sung yet," Tim reminded his 'brother'. Didn't Dick know that while roadrunners were fast on their feet, they couldn't sing worth a lick? Of course Wally wasn't an actual bird. Still, he was Wally. Odds were he couldn't sing without breaking things...like ear drums. "I don't want to be here for that. Bruce made the acoustics in here perfect, remember? The stress tolerances might not be able to take it."
Dick snorted. "You're thinking of a certain Canary." He pointed to where Dinah was dancing-and regularly poking at a certain goatee-sporting blond partner who had had too much to drink. "She's too busy dealing with Ollie's less-than-perfect-aim-for-her-lips to offer to sing."
"No, 'Wing, I'm thinking more of men who attract bad circumstances like Major Disaster wishes he could. Ollie's drunk, Bruce's with Selina, and Wally's going on stage to sing with Bruce right there." Tim finished in a frustrated pout. "I'd rather be facing off with The Croc in a swamp right now."
"Relax, I've got at least Bruce covered."
Bruce Wayne took a deep breath. Being alone with Selina Kyle as either the wealthy feline habitat advocate or the cat burglar 'Catwoman' was not something he cared to do right now, but for the last minute or so prior he had been infused with a growing feeling of dread that something awful was going to happen if he and she hung out on the ballroom floor for much longer...and he usually trusted his instincts. He had gotten her alone and away from the other guests until he found out what she was up to.
"What was that all about...with the singer? And don't keep pretending you're truly want him arrested. I know you, Selina. You're giving off far too much self satisfaction to be sincerely angry at him."
"Just a little diversion," Selina smiled demurely at her long-time semi-opponent. "Oh, he's cute as a curious kitten, but a bit of a cat on a hot tin roof...so high strung, that one. You should know by now, Bruce, that I prefer them tall, dark, handsome...and moody. Full grown panthers are more...engaging." She pursed her lips with an air of speculation. " Although...I didn't know he could sing." She cocked an elegant eyebrow at is scowl. "Why? Are you jealous of a competing tomcat on your turf?"
"Hardly." Bruce studiously sipped from his glass.
"Pity that. I love the fire in your eyes when you get heated up." She smoothed down her gown in a suggestive manner. "Meow...tom cat fights turn this kitty on. But if you don't want to play cat and bat..." She pretended to sip from her own glass. "Your friend is rather charming in his way...when he's not hitting women over the head with seafood," she added as an afterthought. Brushing her tongue tip against her glass, she still desisted from actually drinking from it. Selina knew Bruce well enough not to trust any drink that had been placed directly in her hand.
The feeling was mutual.
"My friend?" Bruce emitted a light snort.
"Bats aren't the only ones who can 'see' within the shadows," Selina reminded him. She made a quiet sound of amusement. "Of course...what was I thinking? You never do friendships." Tilting back her head, she came up with an alternative term. "Business associate then? Just don't tell me you two are also involved in a secondary merger...I'm intrigued enough as it is without discovering his being your cata-" She smirked at his affronted look from over the edge of her wine glass and drawled. "Right...Selina is being a bad kitty. But tell me...when the cat's away, does the Bat play?"
"Selina, I don't even know his name nor am I interested in him one way or the other. He's came with the orchestra and will shortly be leaving with them." Bruce frowned to himself. If the man was part of the substitute band Alfred had hired, why had he been serving caviar? And why did his appearance seem 'wrong' Could he be an accomplice of Catwoman's to throw him off track? Was that the reason the regular band had been conveniently unavailable?
She eyed him as if he was morphing form right in front of her then gave a short laugh. "Oh my...really...you don't know? This is a recipe for catastrophe." She paused in confused thought. "Actually, it is almost impossible. Are you sure you're The World's Greatest Detective? Maybe you're really that Martian?" She trailed her fingers around his chest. "A cat can't be too careful these days. I think some verification of identity is in order. How about we remove this shirt as a start?"
Watchtower: "Lady, you couldn't handle a real Martian." J'onzz saluted himself with another swig of papaya juice that he'd spiked with whipped cream and Red food dye #7. He found the combination gave him a mild buzz...perfect for situations like this where his telepathic ability was feeling rather taxed from overuse. Nobody should have to be keeping continuous tabs on a speedster and his cohorts for this length of time. Only massive intakes of sugar and 'artificial ingredient' concoctions were keeping him sane.
Junk food...also the application of off-the-wall humor.
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Dear gods...he was turning into Wally.
A/N: Again I ended up with an obscure chapter title. I suppose it does fit, but not because of the song. Selina is the Cat in the cradle (both as a feline near an innocent 'babe' and as the game of devising complex string patterns, Bruce is the Silver Spoon (wealthy person), Wally is our little Boy Blue (both as melancholy and about to blow his own horn...no, not Supes! lol), and the Man in the Moon is J'onn watching all from on high. Or maybe just 'high' in this case?
In-jokes:
Speaking of 'high' in the recreational sense... For those of you who didn't get the joke, there was a Justice League comic story where Superman was off his nut for a bit due to blue kryptonite. It was pretty darn funny and I wish the site I saw it at was still there so I could go back and find the particular issue number. Meanwhile, the red variety rendered Superman powerless. Enough said?
Dole is a major company that sells fruits like bananas.
While part of the JL-Europe, Kara adopted the most mangy cat you'd ever seen. That feline was a serious menace...very mean and disaster prone. Everyone was afraid of it.
If you haven't seen Batman Brave & the Bold's Requiem for a Speedster, you are missing a treat. Look for it on the net if Warner Bros is still being a pain.
Whoa!
I've become aware some of my stories are being read at from some pretty bizarre areas. Pakistan? Iran? The heck? Is this kind of humor legal over there? Am going to assume for my peace of mind that these are soldiers or diplomatic people online who just happened to be stationed in places that (from what I've gathered) would cheerfully gut me for writing K+ humor of a non-modest variety.
Oh, to be able to run like the wind. :)