Aw Yeah Tiny Bubbles!
Tiny Titans; Alfred, ensemble; g; 1,000 words
Stately Wayne Manor hosts the Annual Pet Club Valentine's Party.
Written for
picfor1000.
This was my prompt.
Thanks to
amberlynne for handholding, to
![](http://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
silveronthetree for brainstorming, and to
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devildoll for looking it over.
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Aw Yeah Tiny Bubbles!
"Alfred, we're going to have a party!" Dick said, rushing into the kitchen fresh from his Pet Club meeting.
"Are we?" Alfred asked, setting a plate of cookies and a glass of milk in front of him.
Dick paused in stuffing cookies into his mouth long enough to answer, "Yes." Alfred gave him a reproving look for talking with his mouth full, so he waited until he was done chewing to say, "The Annual Pet Club Valentine's Party."
"I see. Was this Miss Barbara's idea?"
Dick shrugged, but his blush gave him away.
Given his precocity with the fairer sex, Alfred was not looking forward to his teenage years at all.
*
"No." Bruce glared at him, but Alfred had been on the receiving end of that glare since Bruce was younger than Dick. It didn't have the intended effect.
"Sir, the invitations have already been sent."
"I'm not chaperoning. I have work to do."
"Mr. Kent and Princess Diana already called to say that they've cleared your schedule for the evening, and the party will be over well before it's time for you to patrol."
Bruce muttered a curse that earned him a glare in response, and he had the grace to look sheepish. Alfred felt a small sense of satisfaction. After all, he had been glaring at Bruce for quite as many years as Bruce had been glaring at him, and it wouldn't do for it to have lost its efficacy.
"If it's any comfort, sir, the animals will stay outside."
"Hmph." Bruce swept away with an emphatic twirl of his cape.
*
Stately Wayne Manor had seen many parties over the years, but none quite so lively as this one promised to be, Alfred thought as he polished the chandelier so that rainbows sparkled through the air when the lights were turned on.
Dick had recruited his playmates to "help;" Alfred sent them down to the cave, but Bruce sent them back upstairs immediately, so Alfred sighed and put them to work making decorations.
The kitchen table was covered in pink and red construction paper, and the boys were covered in glitter and glue. Jason had left off his bucket and somehow contrived to give himself a glitter mustache, while Superboy was sticking pink paper hearts to Tim's t-shirt.
"Where is young Master Damian?" Alfred asked.
"He was here a minute ago," Tim said, frowning as he looked around in confusion.
"We'll find him, Alfred," Dick said, leading them on a search through the house.
As Damian was wily for a toddler, Alfred was not at all surprised to find him dangling from the newly-polished chandelier by the streamers they'd hung earlier. No doubt his father would be proud. Dick certainly was.
"I tried to crawl onto the high wire when I was his age," he said. Tim looked horrified and Jason, impressed. Alfred tutted disapprovingly, but knew nothing he said would discourage them.
"I'll get him," Superboy said, launching himself into the air with a cocky grin.
Damian bit him, which was only to be expected, but Stephanie's arrival was enough to convince Damian to come down. She was his favorite. Superboy dumped him into her arms and he clung to her like an angry little monkey.
*
The guests--and their pets--began to arrive promptly at four. Alfred discovered Beast Boy teaching the animals to dance and shooed them back outside before they tracked more dirt over his nice, clean floors.
When he returned to the ballroom, the girls were clustered around the punchbowl, and the boys were clustered around the girls.
"The punch is okay," Starfire said, smiling at Dick, "but it would be better if it was fizzy."
"I can do that," Dick said, blushing. "Alfred, do we have some ginger ale?"
But before Alfred could answer (they did, in fact, have some ginger ale), Zatara waved his wand at the punch bowl. "Yzzif ti ekam!" The punch fizzed and turned pink. Alfred made a note to avoid it. When Zatara took a small sip and breathed out a stream of tiny pink bubbles, Alfred made a second note to make sure Bruce drank at least one cup.
"It seems to be going well," Bruce said, standing guard over the fizzy punch and the grilled cheese sandwiches while the children danced and played party games.
"Indeed, sir." Alfred ladled him out a cup of punch, which he took and drank without hesitation.
"If everything's under control," he began, bubbles wreathing around his head like so much pink steam. "Alfred, why am I breathing pink bubbles?"
"Young Master Zatara put a spell on the punch. It should wear off in a few hours."
Bruce's look of betrayal almost made Alfred feel bad, but then he breathed out another stream of bubbles and those burgeoning feelings of remorse dissipated. It was worth it when the corner of Bruce's mouth twitched upwards in the suggestion of a smile before he caught himself and frowned again.
Alfred regretted that he didn't have a camera to capture the sight of the fearsome Batman exhaling tiny pink bubbles, but Tim was on the case. He slipped through the room taking pictures until Cass made him put the camera down and dance with her.
This time when Damian went swinging from the chandelier, Supergirl caught him, and he quieted down in her arms.
After a rousing game of musical chairs (won by Kid Flash), Barbara gave Dick a peck on the cheek and said, amid a froth of pink bubbles, "This is the best party ever!"
Dick blushed.
To end the evening, Beast Boy led the bats and bunnies in a conga line; then the children all circled around Alfred and thanked him.
Together, they exclaimed, "Aw yeah, parties!"
Bruce unbent enough to play the gracious host as the children left, right up until Alfred said, "You have an incoming videoconference call from Mr. Kent and Mr. Gardner, sir."
Bruce huffed in annoyance and headed to his cave, trailing tiny pink bubbles.
end
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