FIC: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas, 1/1; BATMAN; "G"
Title: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas
Fandom: Batman, Batman: The Animated Series
Wordcount: 869
Rating: G
Characters: Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne
Genre: Holidays
Prompt(s): dcu_freeforall 2012 DCU Winter Holidays Challenge: Gifts/Wrapping Paper.
Disclaimer: DC and Warner Bros. own them; I just play in the not-for-profit sandbox.
Summary: Bruce wants Dick's first Christmas at the Manor to be special; Alfred would stand for nothing less.
~It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas~
The carnage was appalling. It filled Alfred Pennyworth’s line of sight everywhere he looked. He had known this would be the likely result and yet he had stood by and allowed the debacle to take place. To this result: the sight of Master Bruce as he sat, pensive and a bit forlorn, amidst a litter of torn and poorly cut wrapping paper, shredded ribbons and squashed bows, with bits of cellophane tape stuck all over his person. And, good lord, had he really tried to wrap the bicycle?
Alfred sighed deeply, unfurled a Hefty bag, and entered the sitting room. Heaven knew this was by no means the worst mess he had ever had to clean up and given what lay behind it he found it impossible to voice any complaint. It had been too many years since they had truly kept Christmas at Wayne Manor and this was the latest of many welcome changes.
“Come along, sir. We can do better than this,” he said as he began to gather up the scraps.
Head in his hands, Bruce said, “I swear I measured twice and cut once, Alfred.”
“I’m sure you did. It’s devilish tricky stuff, wrapping paper.”
Bruce lifted his head to favor Alfred with a severe look. “It’s wrapping paper, I’m Batman.”
Alfred picked up a present-some sort of LEGO Ninja thing-that had been wrapped in an eccentric diagonal fashion with a large bow stuck on top to disguise the gaps in the paper. “Apparently the wrapping paper is not aware of that fact, sir.”
Bruce wasted another thirty seconds on an attempt to glower the gift wrap and accoutrements into submission before he heaved a sigh and sprang to his feet. “We’ll never get this fixed in time. The tree’s not even decorated yet.”
“Nonsense, Master Bruce,” Alfred chided him. “We’ve faced down opponents far more formidable and triumphed. Why, three nights ago you fought Ra’s al Ghul and emerged the victor.”
“Yes, but Ra’s didn’t have a bunch of ribbons I had to try and curl with a pair of scissors.”
Alfred bit down on a smile and handed him the LEGO Ninja box. “Let us begin by unwrapping and then proceed from there. Ribbon curling will come in its time.”
Though he wore an expression that plainly doubted this assertion, Bruce gamely took the box and began to pry away the tape and paper. As he had brought considerable enthusiasm to gift shopping for Master Dick there was, Alfred was forced to admit, a rather impressive quantity of boxes and packages to get through. Lesser figures might well have been daunted.
Aware of Alfred taking in the presents, Bruce asked, “Did I go overboard?”
“I am surprised there’s not a pony.”
Bruce looked stricken at that. “Does he want a pony?”
Alfred looked heavenward for a moment, as if to draw strength. “Perhaps in the spring, sir.”
Bruce nodded and went to work on another box-a Nerf Big Bad Bow this time (Alfred inwardly sighed and made a note to secure all of the breakables in the house)-and said, “His birthday’s in the spring, isn’t it?”
“The twenty-first of March, yes.” It had been a very long time since Alfred had planned a child’s birthday party. He found he looked forward to it. One thing at least, there wouldn’t be any clowns.
***
“Shall we?” Alfred asked, ready to plug in the lights.
Bruce turned off the room lights and nodded in the glow of the firelight. “Go.”
Alfred plugged in the lights and they both stood back to observe as the Christmas tree, a handsome Blue Spruce, was fully illuminated in the glow of red, blue, green, and yellow lights. The lights glittered off the array of ornaments and tinsel and the perfectly wrapped packages piled underneath and complemented the white lights strung along the mantle and staircase. If there were any imperfections, Alfred could not spot them.
“I believe Master Dick will find this to his liking.”
Bruce nodded slowly. “Yes, I think he will. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, sir. Now, I would suggest one or two hours sleep at least as I anticipate a great deal of energy shall be expended come the morning.”
A wry smile in place, Bruce said, “You mean he’ll be bouncing off the walls?”
“Quite literally in his case, I suspect,” Alfred said and received his gift at that moment when Bruce actually laughed.
They stood there in comfortable silence a little while longer, pleasantly tired, and enjoying this rare moment of peace.
“It’s been too long since we did this,” Bruce said after a time.
“Yes, sir. It’s rather jolly to have it back.”
Bruce smiled again, patted him lightly on the shoulder, and then tried to hide a yawn. “You might be right about a little sleep.”
“I’m quite certain of it, Master Bruce. Pleasant dreams.”
“You, too.” Bruce started up the stairs, only to pause and look back. “You’re sure about the pony?”
Alfred permitted himself a tiny smile. “Quite sure.”
“Okay. Good night, Alfred.”
“Good night, sir,” Alfred called after him. And bless them, everyone, he silently added.
Fandom: Batman, Batman: The Animated Series
Wordcount: 869
Rating: G
Characters: Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne
Genre: Holidays
Prompt(s): dcu_freeforall 2012 DCU Winter Holidays Challenge: Gifts/Wrapping Paper.
Disclaimer: DC and Warner Bros. own them; I just play in the not-for-profit sandbox.
Summary: Bruce wants Dick's first Christmas at the Manor to be special; Alfred would stand for nothing less.
~It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas~
The carnage was appalling. It filled Alfred Pennyworth’s line of sight everywhere he looked. He had known this would be the likely result and yet he had stood by and allowed the debacle to take place. To this result: the sight of Master Bruce as he sat, pensive and a bit forlorn, amidst a litter of torn and poorly cut wrapping paper, shredded ribbons and squashed bows, with bits of cellophane tape stuck all over his person. And, good lord, had he really tried to wrap the bicycle?
Alfred sighed deeply, unfurled a Hefty bag, and entered the sitting room. Heaven knew this was by no means the worst mess he had ever had to clean up and given what lay behind it he found it impossible to voice any complaint. It had been too many years since they had truly kept Christmas at Wayne Manor and this was the latest of many welcome changes.
“Come along, sir. We can do better than this,” he said as he began to gather up the scraps.
Head in his hands, Bruce said, “I swear I measured twice and cut once, Alfred.”
“I’m sure you did. It’s devilish tricky stuff, wrapping paper.”
Bruce lifted his head to favor Alfred with a severe look. “It’s wrapping paper, I’m Batman.”
Alfred picked up a present-some sort of LEGO Ninja thing-that had been wrapped in an eccentric diagonal fashion with a large bow stuck on top to disguise the gaps in the paper. “Apparently the wrapping paper is not aware of that fact, sir.”
Bruce wasted another thirty seconds on an attempt to glower the gift wrap and accoutrements into submission before he heaved a sigh and sprang to his feet. “We’ll never get this fixed in time. The tree’s not even decorated yet.”
“Nonsense, Master Bruce,” Alfred chided him. “We’ve faced down opponents far more formidable and triumphed. Why, three nights ago you fought Ra’s al Ghul and emerged the victor.”
“Yes, but Ra’s didn’t have a bunch of ribbons I had to try and curl with a pair of scissors.”
Alfred bit down on a smile and handed him the LEGO Ninja box. “Let us begin by unwrapping and then proceed from there. Ribbon curling will come in its time.”
Though he wore an expression that plainly doubted this assertion, Bruce gamely took the box and began to pry away the tape and paper. As he had brought considerable enthusiasm to gift shopping for Master Dick there was, Alfred was forced to admit, a rather impressive quantity of boxes and packages to get through. Lesser figures might well have been daunted.
Aware of Alfred taking in the presents, Bruce asked, “Did I go overboard?”
“I am surprised there’s not a pony.”
Bruce looked stricken at that. “Does he want a pony?”
Alfred looked heavenward for a moment, as if to draw strength. “Perhaps in the spring, sir.”
Bruce nodded and went to work on another box-a Nerf Big Bad Bow this time (Alfred inwardly sighed and made a note to secure all of the breakables in the house)-and said, “His birthday’s in the spring, isn’t it?”
“The twenty-first of March, yes.” It had been a very long time since Alfred had planned a child’s birthday party. He found he looked forward to it. One thing at least, there wouldn’t be any clowns.
***
“Shall we?” Alfred asked, ready to plug in the lights.
Bruce turned off the room lights and nodded in the glow of the firelight. “Go.”
Alfred plugged in the lights and they both stood back to observe as the Christmas tree, a handsome Blue Spruce, was fully illuminated in the glow of red, blue, green, and yellow lights. The lights glittered off the array of ornaments and tinsel and the perfectly wrapped packages piled underneath and complemented the white lights strung along the mantle and staircase. If there were any imperfections, Alfred could not spot them.
“I believe Master Dick will find this to his liking.”
Bruce nodded slowly. “Yes, I think he will. Thank you.”
“My pleasure, sir. Now, I would suggest one or two hours sleep at least as I anticipate a great deal of energy shall be expended come the morning.”
A wry smile in place, Bruce said, “You mean he’ll be bouncing off the walls?”
“Quite literally in his case, I suspect,” Alfred said and received his gift at that moment when Bruce actually laughed.
They stood there in comfortable silence a little while longer, pleasantly tired, and enjoying this rare moment of peace.
“It’s been too long since we did this,” Bruce said after a time.
“Yes, sir. It’s rather jolly to have it back.”
Bruce smiled again, patted him lightly on the shoulder, and then tried to hide a yawn. “You might be right about a little sleep.”
“I’m quite certain of it, Master Bruce. Pleasant dreams.”
“You, too.” Bruce started up the stairs, only to pause and look back. “You’re sure about the pony?”
Alfred permitted himself a tiny smile. “Quite sure.”
“Okay. Good night, Alfred.”
“Good night, sir,” Alfred called after him. And bless them, everyone, he silently added.