Fic: Cook-Out I: Cutting The Mustard ;) (1/1)
Title: Cook-Out I: Cutting The Mustard ;) (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Dick (Various members of the JLA and Teen Titans)
Series Notes: I think there’s more stories to tell in this animated ‘verse, don’t you? Maybe a sequel will be out next week or next year. My Muses control the viewing dial. ;) The entire series can be found here.
Continuity: ‘Toonverse
Genres: Fluff, Humor
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Batman is impatient to eat at the JLA/Teen Titans cook-out, so Superman obliges. ;)
Date Of Completion: June 30, 2018
Date Of Posting: July 28, 2018
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 960
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Notes: Story inspired by the icon. Art and icon by the-dark-cat.
The smell from the grill
Makes the mouth water,
Food tastes better
Over an open fire.
Ancestral.
Tarry Grillo
“Summer Nights”
1959 C.E.
Superman whistled cheerfully as he turned the hamburgers over on the grill with the spatula. He did the same with the hot dogs, using a long grilling fork for that task, smiling benevolently as the Teen Titans shrieked and laughed playing volleyball, and Green Arrow finished telling a joke, rewarded by his listeners’ laughter. Wonder Woman was giving a demonstration of Bullets ‘N’ Bracelets in front of an impressed crowd as Batwoman fired the bullets.
Superman felt relaxed as he cooked. Wearing a chef’s hat and a full apron that bore the legend, KISS THE COOK, he fondly remembered the grilling lessons that his father had given him. He was proud of his cooking skills. As he saw Batman approaching, he thought wryly, Somebody has to cook in this relationship.
Batman waved a plate. “How’s the grilling going, Super Chef?”
“Just fine, Caped Crusader.”
Batman snorted. Superman put the meat on the plate that his lover handed him and walked over to the buffet tables. He put the plate on the picnic table and yelled, “Soup’s on!”
Back at the grill, he loaded it up with hot dogs and hamburgers again.
“Technically, it isn’t soup,” said Batman.
“What?”
“Your call to lunch. It’s not really soup.”
“Oh, sorry.”
The meat sizzled on the grill as the members of the Justice League and Teen Titans headed for the two long picnic tables that held bowls of potato salad, macaroni salad, garden salad, yellow saffron rice, platters of hot dog and hamburger buns, and a pot of Green Arrow’s famous fiery chili. Platters of assorted fresh vegetables and pickles were mixed in with jars of various condiments. Several platters of hot dogs and hamburgers were already grilled and ready. A large tub filled with ice contained bottled water, soda and juice cans, and beer bottles. The buffet line was long and boisterous.
Batman cut the line (”Hey, no cuts!” “Didn’t you learn to wait your turn in kindergarten?” “Bats don’t get special privileges!”) and gave everyone the Bat-Glare (Robin laughed) and snatched a paper plate. He went back to the grill.
“Didn’t you learn no bucking the line in grade school?” asked Superman.
“In my school, everyone was personally served. No waiting,” Batman sniffed.
Superman couldn’t tell if his friend was joking or not. Considering his wealthy upbringing, he wouldn’t be surprised if Batman was telling the truth.
“Technically, there is a sort of soup,” Superman said.
“What?”
“Green Arrow’s five-alarm chili.”
Batman snorted again. “He says it’s five-alarm. He tends to exaggerate.”
“I dunno. J’onn tends to stay away from it.”
Batman stared, finally shaking his head. “How long is this going to take? I’m hungry,” he complained, though Superman thought it sounded more like whining. Ah, to be born to the silver spoon!
“Why not take what’s on the tables?”
“They’re already gone!”
Superman looked over at the buffet tables. “So they are.”
“Stop being so smug,” Batman grumped while Superman smiled.
As the superheroes milled around the buffet, the Flash brought out replacement foods from the kitchen at super-speed. Aquaman and Mera arrived with a cooler of fish and Black Canary pointed out her homemade relish. The Martian Manhunter kept pitchers of ice-cold lemonade coming. Wonder Girl had brought freshly-baked croissants, and Diana and Steve had contributed all the salads. Green Lantern had whipped up a batch of grilled corn-on-the-cob with a grill courtesy of his ring, and there was a nice assortment of desserts, both homemade and from professional bakeries. Ace and Krypto gamboled around, hanging around the buffet tables in case someone dropped any food.
The park was isolated, tucked away in the Berkshires in the western part of Massachusetts, giving the heroes a chance to enjoy themselves without any on-lookers and hangers-on. Everyone had either brought, baked or cooked something, or contributed financially to the feast. The apple and lemon pies had been brought by Superman (Martha had made them), and Batman and Robin had brought a chocolate three-layer cake with strawberries and whipped cream (Alfred’s contribution). The idea for the cook-out had been Superman’s. Backyard barbecues had been a summer staple in Smallville, a good way to get together with family and friends. It was a beautiful day, and Batman was grumpy.
The Dark Knight’s stomach growled. “Can’t you hurry this batch up?”
Superman said, “Sure.” Heat vision shot out from his eyes and cooked the hot dogs and hamburgers. Batman gasped, putting his plate up to shield his face.
“Wha…?” he sputtered.
“Hey, you wanted your wiener fast.”
“My wiener?” Batman rasped.
“Yeah, sizzling hot.” Superman speared a hot dog with his grilling fork and offered it to Batman with a smirk. “Dripping with juices with a little snap and spice.”
Batman’s cowled eyes widened. After a few seconds he leaned forward and bit into the thick frankfurter. “Mmm.”
“Oh, brother,” Robin said as he strolled over to the grill while noshing on a hamburger. “Get a room, you two.”
Batman swallowed his bite of hot dog. “Says the teen dressed like condiments.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, you’ve got yellow mustard, red ketchup, and green pickles on that burger.”
“Hey, you’re right!” Robin looked down at his costume in delight. “Do you think I could cut the mustard against Condiment King?”
Batman groaned while Superman laughed. “You could catch up to any criminal out there,” Superman quipped.
Batman groaned again and snatched his half-eaten hot dog off the fork.
“Any time I’m in a pickle, I can count on you to get me out,” Robin said with an enormous grin.
Batman stalked off toward the buffet tables while Robin and Superman laughed heartily.
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This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: Clark/Bruce, Dick (Various members of the JLA and Teen Titans)
Series Notes: I think there’s more stories to tell in this animated ‘verse, don’t you? Maybe a sequel will be out next week or next year. My Muses control the viewing dial. ;) The entire series can be found here.
Continuity: ‘Toonverse
Genres: Fluff, Humor
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Batman is impatient to eat at the JLA/Teen Titans cook-out, so Superman obliges. ;)
Date Of Completion: June 30, 2018
Date Of Posting: July 28, 2018
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 960
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Notes: Story inspired by the icon. Art and icon by the-dark-cat.
The smell from the grill
Makes the mouth water,
Food tastes better
Over an open fire.
Ancestral.
Tarry Grillo
“Summer Nights”
1959 C.E.
Superman whistled cheerfully as he turned the hamburgers over on the grill with the spatula. He did the same with the hot dogs, using a long grilling fork for that task, smiling benevolently as the Teen Titans shrieked and laughed playing volleyball, and Green Arrow finished telling a joke, rewarded by his listeners’ laughter. Wonder Woman was giving a demonstration of Bullets ‘N’ Bracelets in front of an impressed crowd as Batwoman fired the bullets.
Superman felt relaxed as he cooked. Wearing a chef’s hat and a full apron that bore the legend, KISS THE COOK, he fondly remembered the grilling lessons that his father had given him. He was proud of his cooking skills. As he saw Batman approaching, he thought wryly, Somebody has to cook in this relationship.
Batman waved a plate. “How’s the grilling going, Super Chef?”
“Just fine, Caped Crusader.”
Batman snorted. Superman put the meat on the plate that his lover handed him and walked over to the buffet tables. He put the plate on the picnic table and yelled, “Soup’s on!”
Back at the grill, he loaded it up with hot dogs and hamburgers again.
“Technically, it isn’t soup,” said Batman.
“What?”
“Your call to lunch. It’s not really soup.”
“Oh, sorry.”
The meat sizzled on the grill as the members of the Justice League and Teen Titans headed for the two long picnic tables that held bowls of potato salad, macaroni salad, garden salad, yellow saffron rice, platters of hot dog and hamburger buns, and a pot of Green Arrow’s famous fiery chili. Platters of assorted fresh vegetables and pickles were mixed in with jars of various condiments. Several platters of hot dogs and hamburgers were already grilled and ready. A large tub filled with ice contained bottled water, soda and juice cans, and beer bottles. The buffet line was long and boisterous.
Batman cut the line (”Hey, no cuts!” “Didn’t you learn to wait your turn in kindergarten?” “Bats don’t get special privileges!”) and gave everyone the Bat-Glare (Robin laughed) and snatched a paper plate. He went back to the grill.
“Didn’t you learn no bucking the line in grade school?” asked Superman.
“In my school, everyone was personally served. No waiting,” Batman sniffed.
Superman couldn’t tell if his friend was joking or not. Considering his wealthy upbringing, he wouldn’t be surprised if Batman was telling the truth.
“Technically, there is a sort of soup,” Superman said.
“What?”
“Green Arrow’s five-alarm chili.”
Batman snorted again. “He says it’s five-alarm. He tends to exaggerate.”
“I dunno. J’onn tends to stay away from it.”
Batman stared, finally shaking his head. “How long is this going to take? I’m hungry,” he complained, though Superman thought it sounded more like whining. Ah, to be born to the silver spoon!
“Why not take what’s on the tables?”
“They’re already gone!”
Superman looked over at the buffet tables. “So they are.”
“Stop being so smug,” Batman grumped while Superman smiled.
As the superheroes milled around the buffet, the Flash brought out replacement foods from the kitchen at super-speed. Aquaman and Mera arrived with a cooler of fish and Black Canary pointed out her homemade relish. The Martian Manhunter kept pitchers of ice-cold lemonade coming. Wonder Girl had brought freshly-baked croissants, and Diana and Steve had contributed all the salads. Green Lantern had whipped up a batch of grilled corn-on-the-cob with a grill courtesy of his ring, and there was a nice assortment of desserts, both homemade and from professional bakeries. Ace and Krypto gamboled around, hanging around the buffet tables in case someone dropped any food.
The park was isolated, tucked away in the Berkshires in the western part of Massachusetts, giving the heroes a chance to enjoy themselves without any on-lookers and hangers-on. Everyone had either brought, baked or cooked something, or contributed financially to the feast. The apple and lemon pies had been brought by Superman (Martha had made them), and Batman and Robin had brought a chocolate three-layer cake with strawberries and whipped cream (Alfred’s contribution). The idea for the cook-out had been Superman’s. Backyard barbecues had been a summer staple in Smallville, a good way to get together with family and friends. It was a beautiful day, and Batman was grumpy.
The Dark Knight’s stomach growled. “Can’t you hurry this batch up?”
Superman said, “Sure.” Heat vision shot out from his eyes and cooked the hot dogs and hamburgers. Batman gasped, putting his plate up to shield his face.
“Wha…?” he sputtered.
“Hey, you wanted your wiener fast.”
“My wiener?” Batman rasped.
“Yeah, sizzling hot.” Superman speared a hot dog with his grilling fork and offered it to Batman with a smirk. “Dripping with juices with a little snap and spice.”
Batman’s cowled eyes widened. After a few seconds he leaned forward and bit into the thick frankfurter. “Mmm.”
“Oh, brother,” Robin said as he strolled over to the grill while noshing on a hamburger. “Get a room, you two.”
Batman swallowed his bite of hot dog. “Says the teen dressed like condiments.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, you’ve got yellow mustard, red ketchup, and green pickles on that burger.”
“Hey, you’re right!” Robin looked down at his costume in delight. “Do you think I could cut the mustard against Condiment King?”
Batman groaned while Superman laughed. “You could catch up to any criminal out there,” Superman quipped.
Batman groaned again and snatched his half-eaten hot dog off the fork.
“Any time I’m in a pickle, I can count on you to get me out,” Robin said with an enormous grin.
Batman stalked off toward the buffet tables while Robin and Superman laughed heartily.
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This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)