[DC: Drabble] "Communal Clean-Up" [G]
Title: Communal Clean-Up
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 23, challenge 01, prompt 06 ‘a little to the left’
Word Count: 724
Fandom: DC comics / Justice Leauge
Character(s): Bruce Wayne, Diana Prince, Clark Kent, Alfred Pennyworth
Summary: “Consider it a thank you to billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne, for letting us use his house to set a trap for the Joker.”
Communal Clean-Up
Bruce woke to the fading sunlight of late afternoon and the faint sound of voices from several rooms away.
He felt sore all over and still a little tired, but better than he usually did after a fight like that. Which might have been because he hadn’t had such a long trip back home - the fight had been right here in Wayne Manor, at a charity cocktail party, just the kind of ‘ritzy bash’ that they knew would draw the Joker’s attention.
Diana had come representing the Gotham History Museum, where she had just taken a position as curator of the Classical Department, and the event was being reported on by visiting Metropolis Daily Planet journalist Clark Kent.
In the chaos of the Joker’s arrival, none of the guests had noticed the three of them disappear, just before the appearance of Batman, Wonder Woman and Superman. Thankfully, they had managed to contain the fight to the manor’s Great Room, where all of the antiques were actually expert replicas, and the only injuries - just a few scrapes and bruises - were sustained by Bruce.
But he had been up very early the day before, making final preparations for the party and twenty-some hours later, cleaning up the debris had seemed like just too much work. He had told Alfred to leave everything for the morning, offered Diana and Clark guest rooms, and been asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
Now, though, the clock beside his bed told him that it was two in the afternoon. The alarm was turned off - Bruce knew he had set it the night before, but Alfred could apparently still move through his room without waking him, just like when Bruce had been a boy - so it was well past time for him to be up and dealing with the mess they’d made of his house.
He got up slowly, still-sore muscles protesting the motion, and pulled on his robe, then followed the voices out into the hall.
“A little to the left, if you would, Miss Diana,” Alfred was saying. “Yes, that’s splendid.”
“Does this look right?” asked Clark.
“Just a little higher, please,” said Alfred.
Bruce rounded the corner. “And what’s going on here?” he asked, smiling.
Diana was re-hanging a painting that had been knocked from the wall during the fight, hefting it’s eight-foot gilt frame like it weighed nothing. Clark was hovering beside one of the two-story windows, smoothing the curtains he’d just put back up. Alfred stood at the top of the staircase, directing them.
“Ah, Master Bruce,” the butler said. “You look exceptionally well-rested.”
“Because someone turned off my alarm clock.”
“Did they?” Alfred asked, dryly.
Diana let the painting hang - still a little crooked - and joined them. “That was my idea,” she said. “You just don’t get enough sleep.”
“I’ve never needed that much,” he protested.
“I wrote an article on the dangers of sleep deprivation,” added Clark, landing lightly beside them. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m fine,” Bruce insisted. “You should have woken me so I could help. This is my house, after all.”
“All the more reason to let you sleep,” said Diana. “Consider it a thank you to billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne, for letting us use his house to set a trap for the Joker.”
Bruce frowned. “Neither of you actually needed to be here at all. The Joker is my problem.”
“Oh, Bruce,” said Diana, resting a hand on his arm. “We’re your friends. Your problems are our problems.”
“Plus, you throw great parties,” added Clark. “I had a drink with the CEO of the Daily Planet. I’ve worked there for ten years, and I’d never even seen her before last night.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to spend the next day cleaning my house,” Bruce protested.
“Friends,” said Diana, then frowned at the painting. “Alfred, does that still look crooked to you?”
He smiled. “We can correct it after we eat - we have missed lunch, but I believe it’s still early enough for tea and sandwiches. Or would you prefer coffee, Master Bruce?”
“Alfred…”
“You really should eat something,” said Clark. “Especially given how long you’ve been asleep. We’ll help you, Alfred.”
“Don’t I get a say in any of this?” asked Bruce.
Diana smiled. “Of course not,” she said, and tugged him in the direction of the kitchen.
THE END
Current Mood:
blah
Author: Ami Ven
Prompt: writerverse phase 23, challenge 01, prompt 06 ‘a little to the left’
Word Count: 724
Fandom: DC comics / Justice Leauge
Character(s): Bruce Wayne, Diana Prince, Clark Kent, Alfred Pennyworth
Summary: “Consider it a thank you to billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne, for letting us use his house to set a trap for the Joker.”
Communal Clean-Up
Bruce woke to the fading sunlight of late afternoon and the faint sound of voices from several rooms away.
He felt sore all over and still a little tired, but better than he usually did after a fight like that. Which might have been because he hadn’t had such a long trip back home - the fight had been right here in Wayne Manor, at a charity cocktail party, just the kind of ‘ritzy bash’ that they knew would draw the Joker’s attention.
Diana had come representing the Gotham History Museum, where she had just taken a position as curator of the Classical Department, and the event was being reported on by visiting Metropolis Daily Planet journalist Clark Kent.
In the chaos of the Joker’s arrival, none of the guests had noticed the three of them disappear, just before the appearance of Batman, Wonder Woman and Superman. Thankfully, they had managed to contain the fight to the manor’s Great Room, where all of the antiques were actually expert replicas, and the only injuries - just a few scrapes and bruises - were sustained by Bruce.
But he had been up very early the day before, making final preparations for the party and twenty-some hours later, cleaning up the debris had seemed like just too much work. He had told Alfred to leave everything for the morning, offered Diana and Clark guest rooms, and been asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
Now, though, the clock beside his bed told him that it was two in the afternoon. The alarm was turned off - Bruce knew he had set it the night before, but Alfred could apparently still move through his room without waking him, just like when Bruce had been a boy - so it was well past time for him to be up and dealing with the mess they’d made of his house.
He got up slowly, still-sore muscles protesting the motion, and pulled on his robe, then followed the voices out into the hall.
“A little to the left, if you would, Miss Diana,” Alfred was saying. “Yes, that’s splendid.”
“Does this look right?” asked Clark.
“Just a little higher, please,” said Alfred.
Bruce rounded the corner. “And what’s going on here?” he asked, smiling.
Diana was re-hanging a painting that had been knocked from the wall during the fight, hefting it’s eight-foot gilt frame like it weighed nothing. Clark was hovering beside one of the two-story windows, smoothing the curtains he’d just put back up. Alfred stood at the top of the staircase, directing them.
“Ah, Master Bruce,” the butler said. “You look exceptionally well-rested.”
“Because someone turned off my alarm clock.”
“Did they?” Alfred asked, dryly.
Diana let the painting hang - still a little crooked - and joined them. “That was my idea,” she said. “You just don’t get enough sleep.”
“I’ve never needed that much,” he protested.
“I wrote an article on the dangers of sleep deprivation,” added Clark, landing lightly beside them. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m fine,” Bruce insisted. “You should have woken me so I could help. This is my house, after all.”
“All the more reason to let you sleep,” said Diana. “Consider it a thank you to billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne, for letting us use his house to set a trap for the Joker.”
Bruce frowned. “Neither of you actually needed to be here at all. The Joker is my problem.”
“Oh, Bruce,” said Diana, resting a hand on his arm. “We’re your friends. Your problems are our problems.”
“Plus, you throw great parties,” added Clark. “I had a drink with the CEO of the Daily Planet. I’ve worked there for ten years, and I’d never even seen her before last night.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to spend the next day cleaning my house,” Bruce protested.
“Friends,” said Diana, then frowned at the painting. “Alfred, does that still look crooked to you?”
He smiled. “We can correct it after we eat - we have missed lunch, but I believe it’s still early enough for tea and sandwiches. Or would you prefer coffee, Master Bruce?”
“Alfred…”
“You really should eat something,” said Clark. “Especially given how long you’ve been asleep. We’ll help you, Alfred.”
“Don’t I get a say in any of this?” asked Bruce.
Diana smiled. “Of course not,” she said, and tugged him in the direction of the kitchen.
THE END
Current Mood:
blah