a/n: I've finally had my eye aches and floaties diagnosed: severe lack of inositol since birth (I was very premature) has let my eyeballs deteriorate. I'm not supposed to watching a glowing screen for very long. This is pretty depressing as all my loves (save music) are found on said glowing screen (and even a lot of that music.) So...here I am flaunting the rules in order to get this out. Most was pre-typed anyway. Hopefully I can finish it just one more chapter.

Kinetics 11: For Whom The Bell Tolls

The party was over with all the patrons and hired help sent home to recuperate before they began adding to the gossip mills. The only thing that was saving Wally from deep depression was impending exhaustion and the fact that Bruce was elsewhere rather than in his face lecturing about how incompetent the speedster was.

Since seeing his guests off, Wayne had been in a closeted conference with Selina Kyle and Dick. Pennyworth had gone over to a secretary desk and was busy writing.

(They say the pen is mightier than the sword. Wally had to agree there, because no way in hell could a sword be more alarming -or annoying- than the interminable 'scritch scritch' of that pen as it traveled over the paper.)

Probably Wally's walking papers. Or Alfred's Last Will & Testament. Maybe the butler would let Wally borrow some paper so he could do the same before Bats killed them both?

Every now and then, Wally could make out the sounds of yelling and glaring coming from beyond the rosewood doors of Bruce's office. (Well, maybe not the glaring, but that part was a given wherever Bruce was a participant in talks.) Tim had long since been sent to his room presumably to contemplate the wisdom of not associating with Wally or anyone on the planet who shared the surname of West.

As for the guilty party? Wally had been threatened with having his shoes nailed to the floor -with his feet still in them, mind you- if he so much as moved an inch from the corner of the room he'd been relegated to.

That's right, he'd been sent to stand in the corner.

It was all so extravagantly unfair, really, because at any age Time Outs were sheer torture when you were the fastest man alive. Wally would have let the shroud of sleep cover his mind, but was afraid of what method either Alfred or Bruce might decide to use to wake him from his nap. If he was alert he held a small hope of dodging the worst of The Bat's pointy objects.

Wally was allergic to pointy object...they made him break out in all manner of skin conditions like cuts and scrapes.

Alfred finished up whatever he was doing at the secretary desk and walked over to him. Stifling a yawn, Wally glanced at the...list of chores? He opened his mouth to protest at the sheer length of things he'd been given to do. It would take 15 minutes at the least -not to mention being grounded for until such time as the Powers That Be deemed fit. However, Wally looked up to see Alfred's hard face and meekly decided he'd better just get started on them.

"Yakkity, yak, don't talk back?" The butler didn't crack a sliver of a smile at his reference to The Coaster's classic; but his eyes held a gleam of agreement. Probably not a good sign and -wow- he really needed to start keeping his mouth shut.

"Indeed, Mister West." Alfred's cool gaze shifted towards the cleaning tools.

Sighing, Wally grabbed the waiting mop and trash bucket and started humming as he cleaned:

.

"Take out the papers and the trash
Or you don't get no spendin' cash.
If you don't scrub that ballroom floor,
You ain't gonna walk and run no more.

Yakety yak (don't talk back)

Just finish cleanin' up that room.
Let's see that dust fly with that broom!
Get all that garbage out of sight.
Or you won't live to see tonight.

Yakety yak (don't talk back)

You just put on your coat and hat
And jog yourself to the Laundromat;
And when you finish doing that,
Bring in the dog and put out the cat
Yakety yak (don't talk back)

Don't you give me no dirty looks
Your boss's hip; he knows what cooks
Just tell your hoodlum friend outside
You ain't got time to take a ride."

He was almost finished when the door to Bruce's office opened with all of the solemnity of The Gates of Doom. Watching from the corner of his eye, Wally saw Dick escort Selina Kyle out the door under the watchful glare of Pennyworth. Her looks of sympathy cast his way had not helped matters. (You knew you were truly damned when even a demon felt pity for you.) Oh sure, Alfred had spent ten minutes lecturing him on how incubuses and succubi were simply not allowed in Wayne Manor, nor was Selina Kyle (technically) anything but 100% human even if she did share some textbook suck-a-bus qualities. Wally wasn't fooled, though; suck-a-buses were sneaky. Almost as sneaky as Batman. Wally shivered as she went by.

Now, Dick, would be another matter. Dick was his best buddy. His comrade in arms. The only one of the Teen Titans who could actually look Batman in the eye and not flinch...for at least the first ten seconds! Dick would...

Walk on by like Wally didn't even exist.

Clearly, Nightwing had received another 'my way or the highway' speech along with colored presentation graphics, because Dick refused to even raise his eyes from the floor as he trudged past his friend out to where his motorcycle was presumably waiting for him. Sure enough, the speedster could hear the sound of it taking off and wished he could do the same: the highway was infinitely preferable right now to living under Batman's roof...especially what would surely be technically in under The Batman Doghouse roof.

Okay, not exactly "in the doghouse" because Bruce actually seemed to like Ace and that mutt lived like royalty amongst canines.

This was all assuming Bruce let him continue to exist at all. Wally had never seen Bruce look so pissed as he had just before he had called the gala officially at an end. Nobody, it seemed, was to be spared his wrath.

"Alfred." Bruce fairly snarled through the opened office door.

Nobody.

The butler visibly paled when Wayne's summons came.

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls..." He squared his shoulders and gamely entered the room, closing the door securely behind him. Wally hastily resumed swabbing down the last of the floor, knowing it would be for not as he'd be next to suffer Batman's considerable ire and it would be soon stained with his blood anyway. He muttered under his breath:

"Yakety yak (don't talk back)
Yakety yak, yakety yak
Yakety yak, yakety yak
Yakety yak, yakety yak."

.

"They all meant well, sir."

Bruce's dark eyes pinned him to the wall. "Mary Mallon meant well; people died. The backers of the Titanic meant well; people died. The road to Hell, Alfred...the road to Hell is one of the best paved roads ever built." The irritated man gestured to where the ruined ball had taken place. "When it comes to Flash, that road is always as wide as a superhighway either of his own making or with the help of his...friends." He sat down in a humph. "I want West gone by morning. Sooner if possible and we both know that's very possible."

Alfred closed his eyes. Lord knew he wasn't terribly pleased with his student either, but in his view Master Bruce was being unreasonable. There was more to consider here than just Mr. West's emotional devastation that this verdict would bring...there were also the feelings of Tim and Richard. What they had intended was commendable if ill thought out. Even there, if they had felt safe in bringing Bruce into their plans it might have worked out well after all instead of the disaster it had become due to the foundation of lies laid out at the onset.

"Sir, perhaps before you make such a hasty decision you should consider all the facts."

Bruce leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms...the very picture of doubt. "Such as?"

"No one starts out perfect." Alfred noted his matured ward stiffen a little more.

"I never said..."

"Do you know, sir, masters Richard and Timothy utilized quite the network of resources in order to attain a goal. Regardless that the goal was not achieved, their effort was founded on teamwork...skills and teamwork you yourself know are vital for survival in the...family business."

Bruce's countenance hardened. "They failed."

"Yes. They made mistakes that they will now learn from and strive not to repeat. Would you not say that it was better for them to learn them here within the Wayne manor rather than...well, while pitted against one such as The Joker?"

Bruce grunted in reluctant agreement. "I suppose your right." Wally was annoying, true, but a mistake while dealing with any of his Rogues could well prove fatal. The thought was one of his greatest sources of nightmares.

"As for my own part in this I accept full blame. I should have informed you that I had taken on an apprentice while working under your roof and would be teaching him here." Before Bruce could comment on that, Alfred continued, "While I cannot condone Mr. West's sneaking out to attend the party in the first place, the lad was convinced that you were compromised by the magical wiles of a suck-a-bus..." (Alfred here gave a light cough and nearly rolled his eyes at the mangled word that had made it's unwanted company amongst his own sterling vocabulary) "er..a succubus with designs on turning you into a 'brain-supping, undead fiend'. The disaster was directly attributable to an attempt to save you and your guests from the machinations of paranormal evil." He paused again to let that sink in. "Considering that he holds some fear of the supernatural realms, Mr. West's actions bespoke of both courage and loyalty to this household. In other words, qualities I personally found admirable in a certain other young man I know. Perhaps you should cut the boy some slack...sir? Or need I regale the boys with some tales of the early days of The Batman's not-so-well-devised exploits?"

Bruce actually winced. He had near perfect recall...which in some instances was not a blessing.

'Dear god, was Alfred there that time I...?' Of course he was. All the other times as well like that mishap with the glider's engagement system right when he was spying on Catwoman. (Who said cats didn't like to bathe?) Or when he'd finally cashed in the old driver's learning permit for the real thing only in his excitement to hit JET PROPEL instead of BRAKE while attempting to parallel park. It had taken Gordon a full week to stop shaking after he'd zoomed by the commissioner and nearly taken out the man's toes in addition to the northwest wall of city hall. Facing down the Croc and pulling out Dick's misplaced toy batarang from his belt rather than the real thing...

Trying to maneuver the dinosaur into it's permanent trophy space...hitting the wrong button...listening to Alfred's faint yells as it ate him...

"You wouldn't." Alfred was his friend and confidante and wouldn't harm Batman's image in such an underhanded way. On the other hand, Alfred was insanely loyal to anyone he felt deserved it (though how Wally West managed to earn this status, Bruce was truly flummoxed on.) Had he backed the man into a corner?

"Wouldn't I?" Alfred raised an eyebrow in defiance. "You of all people know how seriously I take the job of guardianship. Until either of us ends the contract, Mr. West is my responsibility for good or ill. I stand by him, Master Bruce. As much as it will no doubt at times pain me to do so, I will do for him as I have done for you."

Damn.

Bruce drummed his fingers once upon his desktop.

"All right. I'll give him another chance."

"Very good, sir, and if I may so a wise decision."

"Don't push it, Alfred."

"Then I will endeavor to pull instead. The boy considers you one of his heroes, Master Bruce. I was not going to say, but the whole reason he came here was because he wanted to present you with a gift and his own service was all he had to offer. Right now I imagine he's feeling like mince meat. I -could- be the one to point out the silver lining of this night, but I think it would come better from you." With that Alfred made so bold as to open the door to invite his ward in. "Mr. West, if you would be so kind as to join us?" A few seconds went by. Then some more. "Mr. West?" Puzzled by the speedster's tardiness, Alfred looked out the doorway for the red head only to sigh in dismay: the ballroom -although sparkling clean and put to rights once more- was rather empty of sentient life. "Oh dear."

Wallace West was gone. In his place was a note and a tiny Superman cape, adhesive taped to a priceless oil painting. Alfred snatched it down, reading aloud:

Dear, Mr. Pennyworth or Mr. Wayne should Mr. Pennyworth no longer be employed there:

Not that it will help any, but I'm sorry about everything and...well, I'm going away for awhile because I'm pretty sure nobody is going to wish to see me anytime soon so this is for the best. Say goodbye to Tim and Dick for me when they aren't so mad anymore. I'd ask you to say goodbye to Bruce except he'll probably see my absence as even better than any words.

Don't worry, you can keep my pay in place of the damages I couldn't fix up to your standards. I hope the tux and other neat things you got me can be returned?

Btw: I tried to dissuade him, but Flash Ducky insisted on following me into exile. What could I do? However, I did tell him he should return the Batman Ducky cape. I trust he did this as I kind of had something in my eye at the time and couldn't verify it.

P.S. A bag of your home-baked cookies insisted on tagging along as well. Again, very insistent. What could I do?

Sorry.

Goodbye.

(Flash Ducky says to say 'Qwak'.)

Your past-tense apprentice,

Wally.

a/n: Yakety Yak was recorded By: The Coasters; DC owns the Justice League universe and all therein (and the omnipotence has gone to their heads and made them senile...I can't believe they made Jessie the JLA speedster and not Barry OR Wally! Must have a death wish for that team book. The animated series it ain't.)