Finding out: Part 3
Title: Finding Out (Part 3)
Author: Cat_13145
Rating: PG /R
Word Count: 427
Charcters:Alfred, Bruce/Clark, Bruce/Harvey, Bruce/Tony Stark, Bruce/OMC Implied
Author's Notes: Alfred is Awesome, and before he was Batman's Butler he was a secret agent. The description of Tony Stark/Bruce Wayne belongs to elsphedixon about a fic I wrote, and descripton of Bruce's relationships in general was inspired by loquila's Clark Kent verus Pink Kryptonite.
Summary: Butlers know best.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. If I did, this would be cannon.
Chapter 3
It had been a long time since anything happened in Wayne Manor that Alfred Pennyworth was not aware of.
The nearest had been that attempt by Dr. Hurt to destroy the Dark Knight, and if Alfred wasn’t a butler these days, he might have enjoyed returning the favour.
He had long being aware of the relationships that Master Bruce attempted to pursue, and had watched as they ended, each hurting him and pulling up his barriers more than the last.
Looking back, he supposed that Master Elliot would have probably ended up as more than a friend, if things had been different. Given how events had transpired, he was grateful nothing more had happened, and that, for all the pain it’s end caused, Master’s Bruce’s first had been Master Nicolas Rasputin, a Russian exchange student.
In Alfred’s personal opinion, Master Rasputin had been a little too close to his famous ancestor for comfort. He had pushed Master Bruce into taking things too quickly, and had ultimately attempted rape. Fortunately Master Bruce’s training, little as it had been at that point had been sufficient to handle him, and Alfred’s contacts ensure that he was out of the country before the bruises had healed.
He had attempted, many times to raise issue with Master Bruce, but every time he found himself shut out.
Ultimately, he had let it lie; convincing himself that Master Bruce would talk about it when he was ready.
There had been others, both male and female before the departure, and after it, but the only one who stuck in his memory was Harvey Dent.
It had always been secret, never in the manor, always at out of town, normally at out of the way motels.
Looking back, he can’t believe he was surprised at Dent’s transformation into Two-Face. He watched the man lie to his friends, deceive his fiancé and hurt his best friend, all without showing any signs that it was bothering him.
He also saw how quickly he could change, saw the bruises on Master Bruce, heard the lies for how he received them. The cup in his hand winced a little and he lowered it into the water.
He hoped Arkham improved its security considerably, though he knew Master Bruce got as much pleasure out of their chess game as Two Face did.
There had been no one for a long time after Dent.
Then Tony Stark came into the picture.
On paper the two were perfectly suited, in wealth, age, occupation and even personality. Alas there was where the problem lay.
The relationship had been like the proverbial house on fire, hot, heavy, and, while neither would ever admit it, destructive.
Enablers, that was the word. They instinctively brought out the worst in each other, whether it was Stark’s self destructiveness (and really Alfred had nothing but admiration for Stark’s team for keeping him alive so long), or Bruce’s withdrawnness or even Paranoia.
And the end, how had Miss Barbara described it? “A train wreck of emotional hotness.” Yes, that was a fair description, for the yelling and berating and then the sulk that had followed it.
In other circumstances, perhaps the relationship could have succeeded, but keeping it a secret from two teams…he shook his head. Madness.
There had been the usual one night stands, and occasionally more than one night, and then there had been Ms Jets (who was another name Alfred would not have objected sending to Slade, if he thought the man would Master Richards alone). Given what had happened between, he had resigned himself to either months of celibacy, or more one night stands than usual.
Then came the news of breakdown of Kent-Lane marriage. It was surprising that a marriage that had weathered as much as theirs had should break down over an article on the Lantern Core, but as Alfred had known in the service a marriage that ended in murder over an over salted casserole, he supposed all things were possible.
Clark hadn’t been devastated.
It had been subtle, coming over for a meal here, a team up against drugs there, but it had been oblivious that something was different. Master Bruce was different.
He confessed, he had spent weeks waiting for something to go wrong, for some overzealous miscreant to attack Superman with Kryptonite, or some magician to appear on the scene.
As he finished the washing up, Alfred offered a silent prayer of thanks that Master Bruce was with the one man who might have a chance of weathering Batman’s issues.