starsandsea (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
starsandsea) wrote2010-05-16 07:39 pm
starsandsea) wrote2010-05-16 07:39 pm
Fic: Late Night Chat
Title: Late Night Chat
Rating: PG
Characters: Tim, Bruce, Ace
Word Count: 1364
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
arch_schatten's birthday! *glomps* I hope you have a great day, Mina! :D Unbetaed, so point and I shall correct. Oh, and a belated thanks to the anon who gave me the virtual milk and cookies!
Ace snuffled at Tim's discarded cape. Tim groaned, then stretched, hearing his neck click, and picked it up. It would have to be cleaned. Oh, the glamorous life of a superhero, getting things ready to be laundered... Well, Alfred, actually did most of the work like that. Tim was quite firmly convinced that there was nothing that he could not do.
Footsteps on metal. Ace had already walked over to the top of the stairs to greet his master. Bruce looked tired, Tim thought. But then, so was he. And Barbara and Commissioner Gordon and a lot of other cops. Gotham's latest serial killer had made sure that a lot of people didn't get any sleep. Expect, of course, for those who now slept permanently.
Tim shook his head and Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shook his head again. They stripped off their costumes in silence, had quick showers, then dressed in comfy, sloppy clothes, the kind Alfred hated, before heading upstairs.
Tim loved the kitchen in Wayne Manor. Sometimes, it felt like the only place in the whole house that felt like home. There were no pictures of Bruce's ancestors staring down at you, no priceless antiques. Just some prints of fruit - oranges and apples - and one or two of the trees themselves.
Tim blinked, realizing in his preoccupation he had almost let something very dangerous happen.
"I'll get it!" He almost yelled, diving in front of the coffee machine before Bruce would do anything to it. "Why don't you sit down? Where's Alfred, anyway?' He asked, fishing out some mugs.
Bruce wasn't pouting, of course he didn't pout. "I was going to have some tea," he muttered, leaning against a counter, arms crossed.
Tim switched and put the kettle on instead - Bruce had some weird ideas about tea, no doubt because of Alfred, who treated the whole process like some kind of alchemical spell.
"Alfred's asleep. Don't wake him."
"Wasn't going to. Alfie needs his sleep, what with having to look after all of us."
Bruce snorted, then bent down to pet Ace, who, technically, shouldn't be in the kitchen. But neither of them cared, it wasn't like they were cooking or anything. That would be far far too dangerous. It never failed to amuse Dick that they could both measure out chemicals to the milligram, but when it came to cooking... Well. But then Dick thought he could cook, and having tasted some of his 'creations', Tim knew that he and Bruce weren't the only one with no culinary skills.
The kettle rumbled as it neared boiling point and Tim carefully poured a little of the boiling water into the waiting teapot, just enough to warm it a little. He wasn't sure of the point, but then who was he to argue with Alfred? And on the matter of tea, no less?
The kettle resumed boiling and he turned to find the tin containing the loose tea leaves - not bags, no, Alfred would look at you if you suggested using tea bags - and saw Bruce putting some cookies on a plate, though there were already crumbs around his mouth.
"Cookie Monster." Bruce ignored him and Tim snickered, opening the tin and carefully spooning out the right amount of tea leaves into the tea pot. The kettle wailed as it reached boiling point and he poured the boiling water into the teapot, then let it sit there for a moment as he grabbed milk from the fridge.
Bruce was sitting at the table, watching him, Ace lying at his feet. Tim snatched up the tea strainer, then poured the tea into mugs, adding milk and a spoonful of sugar for himself. Then he sat down at the table and grabbed a cookie before Bruce could eat them all.
They sat in silence for several moments, both of them fully winding down from being Batman and Robin. Tim sighed. The cookies were divine. And the feel of the hot tea inside was even better. It was technically Spring, bit it seemed Gotham didn't know that. He snickered again.
Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. "How's school going?"
Tim hid a groan, wishing Bruce hadn't brought it up. Not that he was having problems with the work itself, if anything, he thought it was too easy. But the teachers and his classmates... "Okay," was all he said at last. Bruce looked skeptical, but before he could question him further, he leaped in with a question of his own. "How're things at Wayne Enterprises?"
Bruce didn't even blink. "They're fine. Lucius takes good care of everything for me."
Tim nodded. Lucius was awesome. "Any good projects coming up?"
"One or two. How are things with the Titans?"
Tim did groan now, taking another cookie for strength. There were only three left. "Ugh. You know. Drama."
Bruce's lips twitched into a tiny smile and his eyes lost some of their distance, amusement filling them.
"How're things in the JLA?"
Bruce shrugged. "Fine. When they listen to what I tell them."
Tim snickered. Oh, but he knew the feeling well. A bit of a dangerous feeling, but... Kon was looking out for him. And so was Bart. He knew that Clark and Diana were doing the same for Bruce. Just as they all, Bruce and Tim, and Dick and Cass and Babs looked out for each other, as Alfred looked after them all. Made sure they didn't stray too far into the darkness. That would only lead to disaster, for all of them.
"How's Dick, do y'know? I was supposed to chat to him on IM the other night, but we were both too busy." He looked enquiringly at Bruce. He had just taken the second to last cookie. He wondered if he would blink and find the last one had 'disappeared' as well.
"He's fine. Been working on a new case, according to Babs."
Tim nodded. "Might get to chat to him tonight, then." He would never admit it, but he missed him. There seemed to be an odd sort of void in Wayne Manor now that he had moved to New York. Bruce gave him one of those fleeting smiles, so quick, you might think you had never seen it.
Tim's thoughts were broken as he yawned suddenly. Bruce looked amused, until he yawned too. Tim grinned and looked at Ace, who just stared solemnly back. "Aw, Ace isn't going to catch it." He moaned, making a quick grab for the last cookie. Success!
"What are your plans for the day?" Bruce asked, leaning back in his chair, as one hand reached out to play with Ace's ears.
Tim stretched, hearing his neck click again. "Sleep. You?"
"Got a meeting at 10. Then I have a suit fitting."
Tim smothered a laugh. "How many suits do you own, Bruce?"
"A man can never have too man suits, Timothy."
Tim did laugh now, trying not to yawn at the same time. He suddenly felt very sleepy.
Bruce was smiling very softly at him. "Go to bed."
He made a thoughtful noise. At least it was Saturday tomorrow - today. No school. But homework. He groaned now.
Bruce was standing up, collecting the mugs and plate, then put them on the counter by the sink, Ace padding softly at his side.
Tim smiled. He was exhausted, yes. But content. Or, as content as Bats could be. He smiled again, and Bruce turned out the light.
They wearily climbed up the stairs - why did there have to be so many? - then said 'good night' as they went to their separate rooms.
Tim didn't bother to turn the light on. He was too tired and it would be too bright. He shook his head, amused by his sleepy thoughts. But he did check his laptop, made sure there were no urgent messages for him.
An e-mail from Kon, wondering if they could meet up tomorrow. Smiling again, Tim quickly typed a reply, then shut the computer down before stumbling over to bed.
Ah, bed. Nice. Soft. He sighed in bliss, and slowly drifted to sleep.
Rating: PG
Characters: Tim, Bruce, Ace
Word Count: 1364
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Author's Note: For
arch_schatten's birthday! *glomps* I hope you have a great day, Mina! :D Unbetaed, so point and I shall correct. Oh, and a belated thanks to the anon who gave me the virtual milk and cookies! Ace snuffled at Tim's discarded cape. Tim groaned, then stretched, hearing his neck click, and picked it up. It would have to be cleaned. Oh, the glamorous life of a superhero, getting things ready to be laundered... Well, Alfred, actually did most of the work like that. Tim was quite firmly convinced that there was nothing that he could not do.
Footsteps on metal. Ace had already walked over to the top of the stairs to greet his master. Bruce looked tired, Tim thought. But then, so was he. And Barbara and Commissioner Gordon and a lot of other cops. Gotham's latest serial killer had made sure that a lot of people didn't get any sleep. Expect, of course, for those who now slept permanently.
Tim shook his head and Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shook his head again. They stripped off their costumes in silence, had quick showers, then dressed in comfy, sloppy clothes, the kind Alfred hated, before heading upstairs.
Tim loved the kitchen in Wayne Manor. Sometimes, it felt like the only place in the whole house that felt like home. There were no pictures of Bruce's ancestors staring down at you, no priceless antiques. Just some prints of fruit - oranges and apples - and one or two of the trees themselves.
Tim blinked, realizing in his preoccupation he had almost let something very dangerous happen.
"I'll get it!" He almost yelled, diving in front of the coffee machine before Bruce would do anything to it. "Why don't you sit down? Where's Alfred, anyway?' He asked, fishing out some mugs.
Bruce wasn't pouting, of course he didn't pout. "I was going to have some tea," he muttered, leaning against a counter, arms crossed.
Tim switched and put the kettle on instead - Bruce had some weird ideas about tea, no doubt because of Alfred, who treated the whole process like some kind of alchemical spell.
"Alfred's asleep. Don't wake him."
"Wasn't going to. Alfie needs his sleep, what with having to look after all of us."
Bruce snorted, then bent down to pet Ace, who, technically, shouldn't be in the kitchen. But neither of them cared, it wasn't like they were cooking or anything. That would be far far too dangerous. It never failed to amuse Dick that they could both measure out chemicals to the milligram, but when it came to cooking... Well. But then Dick thought he could cook, and having tasted some of his 'creations', Tim knew that he and Bruce weren't the only one with no culinary skills.
The kettle rumbled as it neared boiling point and Tim carefully poured a little of the boiling water into the waiting teapot, just enough to warm it a little. He wasn't sure of the point, but then who was he to argue with Alfred? And on the matter of tea, no less?
The kettle resumed boiling and he turned to find the tin containing the loose tea leaves - not bags, no, Alfred would look at you if you suggested using tea bags - and saw Bruce putting some cookies on a plate, though there were already crumbs around his mouth.
"Cookie Monster." Bruce ignored him and Tim snickered, opening the tin and carefully spooning out the right amount of tea leaves into the tea pot. The kettle wailed as it reached boiling point and he poured the boiling water into the teapot, then let it sit there for a moment as he grabbed milk from the fridge.
Bruce was sitting at the table, watching him, Ace lying at his feet. Tim snatched up the tea strainer, then poured the tea into mugs, adding milk and a spoonful of sugar for himself. Then he sat down at the table and grabbed a cookie before Bruce could eat them all.
They sat in silence for several moments, both of them fully winding down from being Batman and Robin. Tim sighed. The cookies were divine. And the feel of the hot tea inside was even better. It was technically Spring, bit it seemed Gotham didn't know that. He snickered again.
Bruce raised an eyebrow at him. "How's school going?"
Tim hid a groan, wishing Bruce hadn't brought it up. Not that he was having problems with the work itself, if anything, he thought it was too easy. But the teachers and his classmates... "Okay," was all he said at last. Bruce looked skeptical, but before he could question him further, he leaped in with a question of his own. "How're things at Wayne Enterprises?"
Bruce didn't even blink. "They're fine. Lucius takes good care of everything for me."
Tim nodded. Lucius was awesome. "Any good projects coming up?"
"One or two. How are things with the Titans?"
Tim did groan now, taking another cookie for strength. There were only three left. "Ugh. You know. Drama."
Bruce's lips twitched into a tiny smile and his eyes lost some of their distance, amusement filling them.
"How're things in the JLA?"
Bruce shrugged. "Fine. When they listen to what I tell them."
Tim snickered. Oh, but he knew the feeling well. A bit of a dangerous feeling, but... Kon was looking out for him. And so was Bart. He knew that Clark and Diana were doing the same for Bruce. Just as they all, Bruce and Tim, and Dick and Cass and Babs looked out for each other, as Alfred looked after them all. Made sure they didn't stray too far into the darkness. That would only lead to disaster, for all of them.
"How's Dick, do y'know? I was supposed to chat to him on IM the other night, but we were both too busy." He looked enquiringly at Bruce. He had just taken the second to last cookie. He wondered if he would blink and find the last one had 'disappeared' as well.
"He's fine. Been working on a new case, according to Babs."
Tim nodded. "Might get to chat to him tonight, then." He would never admit it, but he missed him. There seemed to be an odd sort of void in Wayne Manor now that he had moved to New York. Bruce gave him one of those fleeting smiles, so quick, you might think you had never seen it.
Tim's thoughts were broken as he yawned suddenly. Bruce looked amused, until he yawned too. Tim grinned and looked at Ace, who just stared solemnly back. "Aw, Ace isn't going to catch it." He moaned, making a quick grab for the last cookie. Success!
"What are your plans for the day?" Bruce asked, leaning back in his chair, as one hand reached out to play with Ace's ears.
Tim stretched, hearing his neck click again. "Sleep. You?"
"Got a meeting at 10. Then I have a suit fitting."
Tim smothered a laugh. "How many suits do you own, Bruce?"
"A man can never have too man suits, Timothy."
Tim did laugh now, trying not to yawn at the same time. He suddenly felt very sleepy.
Bruce was smiling very softly at him. "Go to bed."
He made a thoughtful noise. At least it was Saturday tomorrow - today. No school. But homework. He groaned now.
Bruce was standing up, collecting the mugs and plate, then put them on the counter by the sink, Ace padding softly at his side.
Tim smiled. He was exhausted, yes. But content. Or, as content as Bats could be. He smiled again, and Bruce turned out the light.
They wearily climbed up the stairs - why did there have to be so many? - then said 'good night' as they went to their separate rooms.
Tim didn't bother to turn the light on. He was too tired and it would be too bright. He shook his head, amused by his sleepy thoughts. But he did check his laptop, made sure there were no urgent messages for him.
An e-mail from Kon, wondering if they could meet up tomorrow. Smiling again, Tim quickly typed a reply, then shut the computer down before stumbling over to bed.
Ah, bed. Nice. Soft. He sighed in bliss, and slowly drifted to sleep.