Drabbles
Drabbles from the last time I solicited prompts. The headings are in this patten:
Characters: prompt: person who requested it.
Title: Please Not Plaid!
Characters: Clark and Bruce
Word Count:153
Requested by
felonaz
Bruce and Clark doing civilian reconnaissance for
felonaz.
"Don't you own anything that isn't either plaid or ill-fitting?"
"What's wrong with plaid shirts and ill-fitting suits?"
"Nothing, if you're going to a Kansas hoe-down or the Ross discount rack. But we're trying to get you into the social event of the season, here."
"So I'll just write an article for the Planet and get a press pass."
"Yes, except that Lady Blakeney has explicitly forbidden press coverage of any sort."
"Lady Blakeney? Honestly! What's she going to do, stop the French Revolution?"
"Close. She fancies herself a collector of secrets, especially secret identities."
"Well, that explains the name, then. So, why are we seeking this character out, instead of avoiding her like nice, intelligent super-heros?"
"Well, your cover wants to look at her extensive gun collection. Neither Clark Kent nor Superman will be anywhere in the vicinity. Which is why you need something that is not red or blue or plaid!"
Title: Protein Bars are not a Food Group
Characters: Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Jason
Word Count: 158
Requested by
roguecatwoman
Something with Alfred and the Robins, for
roguecatwoman
For weeks after Master Dick left, Alfred always had leftovers. Salads came back half-eaten, soup tureens returned half full, and one batch of cookies lasted for nearly a week. It was downright eerie.
Of course, Master Bruce never had eaten enough to keep a bird alive. Alfred always had to remind him on a regular basis that a protein bar does not, actually, constitute a meal. But with Master Dick in the house, he had made some attempts at regularity, if only for the boy's sake. Alone with Alfred, he reverted to his old bad habits: he slept only four hours in twenty-four, never saw sunlight, and ate real food only twice in a good week.
So when Bruce brought home a bright-eyed waif from the Gotham streets, Alfred was relieved. Dishes started coming back empty again, and cookies vanished with hours, as they should. And that, alone, was worth any number of suspicious glares or temper tantrums.
Title: Robinly Duties
Characters: Alfred, Tim, Bruce
Word Count: 164
Requested by
roguecatwoman
Bonus snippet for
roguecatwoman, because the last one only included two Robins
Alfred knew that there was something was wrong with the third Robin from the first night Tim stayed for dinner. The boy didn't eat. Not often and not enough. Alfred was convinced that entirely too many of his latest charge’s daily calories came from grape Zesti and protein bars. And that was not right. Robin was supposed to push Batman toward the dining table, not adopt his mentor’s bad habits. But somehow, despite his dedication , Tim failed in that Robinly duty.
Clearly, this called for intervention. So, Alfred baked a triple batch of chocolate chip cookies and tucked one into Robin's utility belt, on top of the protein bar. Then he sat back to wait.
That night, the Batmobile came in early. Robin jumped out, grabbed Batman by the hand, and ran up to the kitchen, towing a bemused Bruce behind him. There, the boys devoured at least half the cookies. Alfred smiled as he watched. That was a step in the right direction.
Title: Incentive
Characters: Steph/Tim
Word Count: 98
Requested by
milleniumrex
Fluffly Steph/Tim hurt/comfort for
milleniumrex. Sorry, this one's mostly dialog, too.
"Boyfriend, get off that ankle right now!"
Tim started guiltily, then winced at the twinge that shot up his leg. "It's just a sprain. I'm fine!"
"Uh huh. Right. Which is why Bruce benched you for the week. No sit down and stay down! Before I have to sit on you!"
"Yes, Steph. Though you really need to work on your threats. That sounded almost like an incentive."
"And yet it worked. You're sitting on that sofa, like a good, injured boyfriend."
"I was hoping you'd sit on me anyway. I can get up again, if that helps."
Title: Envy
Characters: Roy, mentions of Dick
Word Count: 121
Requested be
gottaluvit123
Roy: envy, for
gottaluvit123.
Roy used to envy Dick. He wished he could be that self-assured, that confident of his place in the universe. Robin was a real hero, not just some skinny kid with a bow. He could argue with Batman and spar with Wildcat and fly with Superman. His mentor could catch arrows out of the air.
But Roy has Lian now. His world consists of rice cereal and car seats and stuffed animals. He wipes runny noses and dries tears and finds lost dolls. He sees himself reflected in her trusting little eyes.
So, as news of Nightwing's latest break-up with Oracle filters through the gossip networks, Roy realizes something startling. He doesn't envy Dick anymore. And he probably never will again.
Title: Child's play
Characters: Dick and Tim
Word Count: 172
Requested by
geministar01
Dick and Tim, with someone getting turned into a child for
geministar01
Dick stared at the silent, careful child and wanted to beat someone. Preferably the person who had raised his little brother.
In front of him, four-year-old Tim sat perfectly still with his clean hands folded neatly in front of him. He watched Dick with big, scared eyes, the way you watch a tornado that might hit your house. His voice was high and piping and scrupulously polite.
"Excuse me, sir, but who are you? I am Timothy Jackson Drake, I live at 26790 Park Lane, and my au pair might miss me sometime soon."
Dick tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm Dick, and I'm your big brother." Dick would be the first to admit that he didn't know much about children, but he knew that they acted sort of like Lian. Lian never sat this still. Lian got dirt on her hands and cotton candy in her hair. Lian grinned so wide her mouth ached and demanded to be picked up.
Tim just sat there and watched him with those sad, scared eyes.
Title: Playing games
Characters: Roy and Tim
Word Count: 90
Requested by
darthbatgirl
Roy and Tim playing games for
darthbatgirl
Roy likes board games as well as the next person, but this is getting ridiculous. Tim has beaten him at chess, checkers, Connect Four, Go Fish, Gin Rummy, and Seven Card Stud. Several times. After the first three games, Lian started begging Tim for lessons. After the seventh game, she got bored and wandered off.
Roy peers over the game shelf disconsolately. There must be something here he can win! Then he sees the perfect game. Grinning slyly, he pulls out the dart board.
"Hey, Timmy! Up for one more?"
Title: Back Up
Characters: Dick and Tim
Word Count: 296
Requested by
felonaz
Roy loves his daughter more than anything in the world. But,after three days of caring for a sick, crabby, tired little girl, even he is ready for a break. Preferably involving a week of sleep.
He lets himself dream about it a little, as he strips the sweat-soaked sheets off Lian's bed. He wouldn't have to go away, not really. But it would be so nice to rest a little. Have someone else to change the sheets while he comforts his shivering princess. Sleep in some mornings, knowing that Lian would still get to school and remember her lunch. Go out some night and watch a movie that doesn't involve cartoon characters.
Roy shakes his head at himself and finishes stripping the bed. He takes the sheets to the laundry room, starts another load of wash, and detours by the kitchen to set the kettle boiling. That weird tea from Dinah sure tastes bad, but it's the only thing that can sooth his baby's throat long enough to let her sleep.
As he starts toward the living room to shephard Lian back into bed, he hears it. A deep voice. A deep adult male voice talking in the room where he left Lian. Roy pulls a crossbow from the sideboard and races into the room. If that man hurt his daughter . . .
But the sight that greets him as he bursts into the room makes Roy skid to a halt. Lian looks safe and happy. She's curled up trustingly in the man's lap, and he's reading her her favorite storybook. The man. With silky black hair and painfully familiar blue eyes. Dick Grayson. Roy vaguely realizes that his jaw is sagging open.
"Uh, hi." Dick's voice is hesitant and soft. "You looked like you could use some back-up."
Characters: prompt: person who requested it.
Title: Please Not Plaid!
Characters: Clark and Bruce
Word Count:153
Requested by
felonaz
Bruce and Clark doing civilian reconnaissance for
felonaz.
"Don't you own anything that isn't either plaid or ill-fitting?"
"What's wrong with plaid shirts and ill-fitting suits?"
"Nothing, if you're going to a Kansas hoe-down or the Ross discount rack. But we're trying to get you into the social event of the season, here."
"So I'll just write an article for the Planet and get a press pass."
"Yes, except that Lady Blakeney has explicitly forbidden press coverage of any sort."
"Lady Blakeney? Honestly! What's she going to do, stop the French Revolution?"
"Close. She fancies herself a collector of secrets, especially secret identities."
"Well, that explains the name, then. So, why are we seeking this character out, instead of avoiding her like nice, intelligent super-heros?"
"Well, your cover wants to look at her extensive gun collection. Neither Clark Kent nor Superman will be anywhere in the vicinity. Which is why you need something that is not red or blue or plaid!"
Title: Protein Bars are not a Food Group
Characters: Alfred, Bruce, Dick, Jason
Word Count: 158
Requested by
roguecatwoman
Something with Alfred and the Robins, for
roguecatwoman
For weeks after Master Dick left, Alfred always had leftovers. Salads came back half-eaten, soup tureens returned half full, and one batch of cookies lasted for nearly a week. It was downright eerie.
Of course, Master Bruce never had eaten enough to keep a bird alive. Alfred always had to remind him on a regular basis that a protein bar does not, actually, constitute a meal. But with Master Dick in the house, he had made some attempts at regularity, if only for the boy's sake. Alone with Alfred, he reverted to his old bad habits: he slept only four hours in twenty-four, never saw sunlight, and ate real food only twice in a good week.
So when Bruce brought home a bright-eyed waif from the Gotham streets, Alfred was relieved. Dishes started coming back empty again, and cookies vanished with hours, as they should. And that, alone, was worth any number of suspicious glares or temper tantrums.
Title: Robinly Duties
Characters: Alfred, Tim, Bruce
Word Count: 164
Requested by
roguecatwoman
Bonus snippet for
roguecatwoman, because the last one only included two Robins
Alfred knew that there was something was wrong with the third Robin from the first night Tim stayed for dinner. The boy didn't eat. Not often and not enough. Alfred was convinced that entirely too many of his latest charge’s daily calories came from grape Zesti and protein bars. And that was not right. Robin was supposed to push Batman toward the dining table, not adopt his mentor’s bad habits. But somehow, despite his dedication , Tim failed in that Robinly duty.
Clearly, this called for intervention. So, Alfred baked a triple batch of chocolate chip cookies and tucked one into Robin's utility belt, on top of the protein bar. Then he sat back to wait.
That night, the Batmobile came in early. Robin jumped out, grabbed Batman by the hand, and ran up to the kitchen, towing a bemused Bruce behind him. There, the boys devoured at least half the cookies. Alfred smiled as he watched. That was a step in the right direction.
Title: Incentive
Characters: Steph/Tim
Word Count: 98
Requested by
milleniumrex
Fluffly Steph/Tim hurt/comfort for
milleniumrex. Sorry, this one's mostly dialog, too.
"Boyfriend, get off that ankle right now!"
Tim started guiltily, then winced at the twinge that shot up his leg. "It's just a sprain. I'm fine!"
"Uh huh. Right. Which is why Bruce benched you for the week. No sit down and stay down! Before I have to sit on you!"
"Yes, Steph. Though you really need to work on your threats. That sounded almost like an incentive."
"And yet it worked. You're sitting on that sofa, like a good, injured boyfriend."
"I was hoping you'd sit on me anyway. I can get up again, if that helps."
Title: Envy
Characters: Roy, mentions of Dick
Word Count: 121
Requested be
gottaluvit123
Roy: envy, for
gottaluvit123.
Roy used to envy Dick. He wished he could be that self-assured, that confident of his place in the universe. Robin was a real hero, not just some skinny kid with a bow. He could argue with Batman and spar with Wildcat and fly with Superman. His mentor could catch arrows out of the air.
But Roy has Lian now. His world consists of rice cereal and car seats and stuffed animals. He wipes runny noses and dries tears and finds lost dolls. He sees himself reflected in her trusting little eyes.
So, as news of Nightwing's latest break-up with Oracle filters through the gossip networks, Roy realizes something startling. He doesn't envy Dick anymore. And he probably never will again.
Title: Child's play
Characters: Dick and Tim
Word Count: 172
Requested by
geministar01
Dick and Tim, with someone getting turned into a child for
geministar01
Dick stared at the silent, careful child and wanted to beat someone. Preferably the person who had raised his little brother.
In front of him, four-year-old Tim sat perfectly still with his clean hands folded neatly in front of him. He watched Dick with big, scared eyes, the way you watch a tornado that might hit your house. His voice was high and piping and scrupulously polite.
"Excuse me, sir, but who are you? I am Timothy Jackson Drake, I live at 26790 Park Lane, and my au pair might miss me sometime soon."
Dick tried to smile reassuringly. "I'm Dick, and I'm your big brother." Dick would be the first to admit that he didn't know much about children, but he knew that they acted sort of like Lian. Lian never sat this still. Lian got dirt on her hands and cotton candy in her hair. Lian grinned so wide her mouth ached and demanded to be picked up.
Tim just sat there and watched him with those sad, scared eyes.
Title: Playing games
Characters: Roy and Tim
Word Count: 90
Requested by
darthbatgirl
Roy and Tim playing games for
darthbatgirl
Roy likes board games as well as the next person, but this is getting ridiculous. Tim has beaten him at chess, checkers, Connect Four, Go Fish, Gin Rummy, and Seven Card Stud. Several times. After the first three games, Lian started begging Tim for lessons. After the seventh game, she got bored and wandered off.
Roy peers over the game shelf disconsolately. There must be something here he can win! Then he sees the perfect game. Grinning slyly, he pulls out the dart board.
"Hey, Timmy! Up for one more?"
Title: Back Up
Characters: Dick and Tim
Word Count: 296
Requested by
felonaz
Roy loves his daughter more than anything in the world. But,after three days of caring for a sick, crabby, tired little girl, even he is ready for a break. Preferably involving a week of sleep.
He lets himself dream about it a little, as he strips the sweat-soaked sheets off Lian's bed. He wouldn't have to go away, not really. But it would be so nice to rest a little. Have someone else to change the sheets while he comforts his shivering princess. Sleep in some mornings, knowing that Lian would still get to school and remember her lunch. Go out some night and watch a movie that doesn't involve cartoon characters.
Roy shakes his head at himself and finishes stripping the bed. He takes the sheets to the laundry room, starts another load of wash, and detours by the kitchen to set the kettle boiling. That weird tea from Dinah sure tastes bad, but it's the only thing that can sooth his baby's throat long enough to let her sleep.
As he starts toward the living room to shephard Lian back into bed, he hears it. A deep voice. A deep adult male voice talking in the room where he left Lian. Roy pulls a crossbow from the sideboard and races into the room. If that man hurt his daughter . . .
But the sight that greets him as he bursts into the room makes Roy skid to a halt. Lian looks safe and happy. She's curled up trustingly in the man's lap, and he's reading her her favorite storybook. The man. With silky black hair and painfully familiar blue eyes. Dick Grayson. Roy vaguely realizes that his jaw is sagging open.
"Uh, hi." Dick's voice is hesitant and soft. "You looked like you could use some back-up."