Challenge Fic: The Way It Crumbles
Glaring at his mentor, Dick scanned his face for any trace that his plea had some effect. There was none. Batman sat at the computer scanning the police blotter with the same inscrutable expression he had an hour ago when he set the latest challenge before his junior partner. He hadn’t moved a muscle or even acknowledged the boy’s complaints in all that time. He was like a zombie. Or a robot. Or a robot zombie.
Tearing his mind from that line of thinking, but mentally promising to pursue it at another time, Dick continued his rant.
“You’ll go to jail and end up sharing a cell with the Joker in Arkham ‘cuz you’re so totally evil. You’ll have to listen to the Joker go on and on about how he loves pie and he’ll clip his toenails all day. You’ll listen to that click, click, click and be all like, ‘why did I do this to Robin? Oh how could I have been so wrong? So misguided?’”
Energized by the scenario, Dick hopped up on the stool balancing on one foot then the next. “You’ll have to work in the prison kitchen and, and wear one of those hair nets!” The image tickled the Boy Wonder so much that he laughed until the stool unbalanced and he was forced to execute a handspring to prevent crashing to the floor.
This horrid vision of the future didn’t seem to faze Batman in the least as he went from the Bat Computer to the lab equipment set up behind his partner. Dick followed him, his young mind striking on the perfect way to break down Batman’s resolve.
Nearly twenty minutes later, Alfred came down the staircase bearing a tray with a tall glass of milk. He very nearly sighed at the sight of Batman inspecting a pair of test tubes, plate of chocolate chip cookies at his elbow, and Dick using the full force of sad puppy eyes on his oblivious mentor.
“Master Bruce, I believe Master Richard has learned the salient points of tonight’s lesson on self-discipline.”
Batman glanced over, noticing for the first time the expression on Dick’s face.
Picking up the plate, he sat it down on a metal table several feet away. “I think you’re right, Alfred.” Dick perked up and dashed to the table just as Batman pressed a small button on his utility belt.
A dozen lasers sprang up from the table to the ceiling, encasing the cookies in a prison of red light. Dick’s jaw dropped and Alfred shook his head.
“Lesson number two,” Batman said, “recovery.”
Tearing his mind from that line of thinking, but mentally promising to pursue it at another time, Dick continued his rant.
“You’ll go to jail and end up sharing a cell with the Joker in Arkham ‘cuz you’re so totally evil. You’ll have to listen to the Joker go on and on about how he loves pie and he’ll clip his toenails all day. You’ll listen to that click, click, click and be all like, ‘why did I do this to Robin? Oh how could I have been so wrong? So misguided?’”
Energized by the scenario, Dick hopped up on the stool balancing on one foot then the next. “You’ll have to work in the prison kitchen and, and wear one of those hair nets!” The image tickled the Boy Wonder so much that he laughed until the stool unbalanced and he was forced to execute a handspring to prevent crashing to the floor.
This horrid vision of the future didn’t seem to faze Batman in the least as he went from the Bat Computer to the lab equipment set up behind his partner. Dick followed him, his young mind striking on the perfect way to break down Batman’s resolve.
Nearly twenty minutes later, Alfred came down the staircase bearing a tray with a tall glass of milk. He very nearly sighed at the sight of Batman inspecting a pair of test tubes, plate of chocolate chip cookies at his elbow, and Dick using the full force of sad puppy eyes on his oblivious mentor.
“Master Bruce, I believe Master Richard has learned the salient points of tonight’s lesson on self-discipline.”
Batman glanced over, noticing for the first time the expression on Dick’s face.
Picking up the plate, he sat it down on a metal table several feet away. “I think you’re right, Alfred.” Dick perked up and dashed to the table just as Batman pressed a small button on his utility belt.
A dozen lasers sprang up from the table to the ceiling, encasing the cookies in a prison of red light. Dick’s jaw dropped and Alfred shook his head.
“Lesson number two,” Batman said, “recovery.”