A Possible world of awkward (Backdated to 4/16)

[no_pixie_shoes]

Alfred had had a giant dinner delivered to him, one of his own creation so it was bound to be delicious. He'd spent every Easter since becoming Robin eating whatever Alfred made, teasing his Bruce until he made time and they could all eat in the dining room

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[princenolonger]

Taking in Tim's clothes, his apartment, and his general state of nerves, Bruce mentally thanked Alfred for the years of etiquette on proper attire, manners, and everything that could make an awkward situation more comfortable. In fact, he and Tim had dressed very similarly, as he wore slacks and a long sleeved raw silk shirt.

Tim's face ticked, just enough to tell Bruce he thought about some smart-ass remark about the flowers, and as they strolled passed the gym - impressive, and Tim could lift a whole lot more than he ought to be able to, but given what he knew about him, it didn't surprise Bruce in the least - he couldn't pass up the chance to tease him.

"Such pretty blue eyes deserve flowers, especially on a first date." His tone couldn't have been more deadpan, but the arms crossed over his chest probably gave away how very definitely he was joking. "Lilies, for Easter. You're not old enough to drink, and I remember from Callahan's that you don't. Wine is the traditional guest-gift for dinner, that or flowers. So you get lilies."

After a look around, he decided that Tim would probably be more comfortable without him prowling around in his absence. And, much as he wanted to, this meeting had enough potential for tense and awkward that he'd wait for another chance to explore what he could of Tim Drake's private space. "If you happen to have wine, that'd be good. Otherwise, water's fine, and I'll keep you company in the kitchen."

[no_pixie_shoes]

He rolls his eyes at what Bruce says, glad he doesn't mention anything about the mats or equipment, "We'll use them for a centerpiece," he says, leading the way into the kitchen. It's not entirely closed off, but once they get on the other side of the dividing wall the delicious smell of Alfred's cooking is heavy in the air.

He sets the flowers on the island before heading for one of the cabinets and then the fridge. He pulls two glasses and a vase out of the cabinet and two bottles of water from the fridge. It being a holiday meal, it wouldn't be right to drink out of plastic... he really needed to get Alfred out of his head.

"I don't drink, mostly cause it's not legal but also... well, you know," he says. His Bruce doesn't drink either, but that's probably just one of those things that's different here. Filling the vase with water from the sink he sets the lilies inside and puts them off to the side for later.

"So why Tropolis?" he asks moving to the stove to check on their meal, "I mean... you're undercover, but you aren't a vigilante yet. According to my files you should be traveling the world at this point in your life, yet here you are. I'm just trying to fit this together, I don't mean to pry, and it's fine if you don't feel like talking about it.?

[princenolonger]

Bruce inhaled, and a smile spread over his face. He'd recognize the scents of Alfred's cooking anywhere. "You really do know me, don't you? I believed you, but that..." He slanted his gaze toward the stove meaningfully. "Is definitely an Alfred original. Not my Alfred," he mused, "But still Alfred."

Taking the water from Tim, his musing turned to a pensive frown. He trusted Tim, but how much did he want to tell. Obviously he and Tim's Bruce weren't identical. A mental shrug, and then a decision, he'd tell anything that didn't have legal implications or complications for the Mayor's Office. "I don't drink often," he said offhandedly, "but I work for the Mayor and it's easier to blend if you don't make an issue. The same might be true of blending in bars and rougher neighborhoods. Which, in essence, is what I came here for."

He nodded acknowledgment at Tim's mention of files, and what he 'ought' to be doing. "Things haven't gone exactly as planned. I arrived intending to blue-collar it through the college here and learn about the other half, but Tara waylaid me and then," here he smiled wryly, "you know me, opportunities to serve the city showed up and I took them."

[no_pixie_shoes]

"The same meal he makes every Easter," he replies, "It wouldn't have even felt like the holiday without it," a wry grin, "It's weird to think there's a different Alfred out there, being British and politely pointing out when one of us has out head to far up our own ass. Weirder than there being two of you somehow."

There is always a Batman, in other universes, regardless of who it is, he's there so it's not something that's difficult to come to terms with. He'd never met another Alfred, not once.

He hops up onto the island, pushing out one of the stools around it with his foot, a clear invitation for Bruce to sit down. "See how the other half lives, get a good idea of what drives your average criminal," he raises one eyebrow at Bruce, "and then you make some close emotional attachments and Tropolis isn't just your own life sized terrarium anymore," he has to smirk at the last part, "Oh yeah Bruce Wayne, civic minded to a fault is what they always say back home."

He clearly cares about Gotham, he wouldn't bother being a vigilante otherwise, and it's just another way to learn about what goes on in the city he wouldn't otherwise be aware of, "Doesn't hurt that it's such a unique learning experience does it?" he asks, "The inner workings of politics at the local level. Exactly how City Government is run."

[princenolonger]

"You're right. Two Alfreds is odd. On the other hand, I can't help but think the worlds are a better place for it." He grinned at that, because a few more Alfreds would, at very least, improve the worlds' manners.

Tim's agile, and quick, and it was easy to see he'd been well-trained in various arts by the way he hopped up on the counter. He took the offered stool, leaning back in it and crossing his arms. "I'm not civic-minded in your world? That's odd. I can't imagine me turning vigilante without the impetus of protecting and revitalizing Gotham."

A wry shrug, and then, "You know me well. Should we skip to the sex now?" His tone was sharp and dry at once, like a bitter sherry. "Or maybe you should tell me about you."

[no_pixie_shoes]

He smirks at that, "You've had to take on a certain... persona to distance yourself from your nocturnal activities, so where as you, as a man, are very much civic minded, no one would ever say it about you. There was also a small vein of sarcasm, seeing as you've essentially undertaken the ultimate in civic duty," a shrug, "I'm clearly not nearly as funny as I like to think I am."

He bristles slightly at the mention of sex and he has to remind himself that Bruce is probably not taunting him for the fact that he obviously has feelings for him. It's not Bruce's style, not in any world, and this one doesn't seem particularly cruel so he's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"What did you want to know?" he asks and then shrugs, "I was the son of Jack and Janet Lynn Drake, I found out about you, I joined up. I'm pretty good at what I do, and someday, hope to be better than you." He isn't sure what he wants to know, he can't tell him everything, but... for Bruce, maybe he can give out pieces.

[princenolonger]

Of course, he would have to mask himself, just as he'd done in buying the bike. But it sounded like he'd taken on a very different persona than the one he'd chosen here. "What am I like?" He frowned, rolling his eyes. "That's got to be the strangest or the most egotistical question I've ever asked. I'm not sure which."

Tim's reaction to the mention of sex, though minute, did not go unnoticed. Though he'd not been testing it, only teasing, it'd demonstrated effectively that whether they were intimate in Tim's world or not, Tim wished they were. Which he'd known since the night of the Ball, but now he knew it wasn't just the magic. He'd have to be more careful about that, as he'd no intention of leading him on or hurting him. For his own sake, and because of Yazoo's little brother.

Still, there was a lot he wanted to know. Principally, "Why do you do it? What's your reason?"

[no_pixie_shoes]

"You're a strange guy," he answers, "I mean... You're probably the best man I'll ever know but you're also kind of a jerk. You have to pretend, whenever you're in public, that you're some one else, some one less. And you don't care, because for you, it's all about the job, and acting that way allows you greater frredom than if you didn't."

He resists the desire to pull his feet up onto the counter and wrap his arms around them, that would be rude and wouldn't make a very good impression. It's one of those questions though, that has a weird answer, that has a whole stack of weird answers, and he'd rather not scare Bruce off.

"You needed me," he says with a shrug, "I don't have some kind of tragic past that made me want to do this. You were my hero growing up , and you needed some one. I couldn't talk your old partner into going back... so I did it myself."

[princenolonger]

Tim's responses, while not exactly evasive, didn't tell him quite what he'd been after, but it was a start.

"So, I play the playboy, and misdirect people's attention." A guess, but an educated one, based on what he'd have done here had things fallen out differently. "I guess I've done a bit of that here, as well, though in the opposite direction. I take it that works, back in your world."

Sipping his water thoughtfully, he considered how much further to probe his relationship with Tim - the other him's. He decided best to stick with himself as the topic, and let Tim give away as much or as little as he wanted otherwise. "I needed you. Because the work requires a partner or because something specific happened?" Questions about his previous partner could wait.

[no_pixie_shoes]

"Exactly," he says, "just, instead of playing your average blue-collar type, you play spoiled rich boy to the hilt. No one has any reason to suspect you're hiding anything so it's the perfect excuse when work requires you to be away for any length of time. Everyone assumes you're off with one of the many pieces of armcandy you'd been seen with that week. And any injuries you recieve can be likewise waved away, 'skiing accident, mishap in the Bahamas... crashed my Porsche,' no matter what happens, you always have an easy excuse ready."

What to say, does he mention Jason? Does he keep it a secret, something Bruce is sure to notice and poke and push at until he talks? "The work we do, by it's very nature lends to feelings of hopelessness. A lone crusader, all by himself, sure it sounds great in pulp magazines, but in the real world it just can't happen like that. You need some one to share it all with, some one that brings hope into the work," he says and then shrugs, "Some one to smack you when you've gotten to grim for words."

"You were in a bad place and I wanted to help, maybe it was specific, maybe it's just what happens when you're alone. Either way, you were better, once you had a partner again."

[princenolonger]

Again, he didn't like the way that sounded, or the idea of treating sex partners like toys. His mouth twisted into a pensive frown. "It's no wonder I'm such a jerk. That would get old after awhile, pretending to be a brainless billionaire." He shrugged. "Don't get me wrong, I understand the utility, and the dedication that keeps me doing it. But it'd have to make me bitter, not having real connections to people."

He looked up to settle his gaze on Tim. "That's where my partners come in. People who know the truth and share the load. Sounds like I owe you a lot, then, for being there when I needed someone to smack the stupid out of me. Not that I imagine it happens very often." A warm smile at that, because whether it was him in the future or some alternate version of himself, Tim had made himself into someone he could trust and rely on. "Thanks. Since he'll probably never say it."

[no_pixie_shoes]

"You never really seem to mind, it's just a mask you wear, a part to play, like being undercover," he explains. Then he ducks his head at the praise, the thanks, "It's not just me, there are a couple of us, for such a loner, you really have a skill for drawing the intensely dedicated to you. And we'd all," a pause, "You're what keeps us all together. And since I'll never tell him; Thank you, for making me a part of something so much bigger than myself."

The timer on the oven goes off and he hops down from the counter, heading to the stove and turning everything off. He then puts everything into serving dishes, which is kind of wierd considering he's doing the dishes, but it is a holiday meal, and serving dishes are a part of that. Taking as many as he cn carry in one trip, he starts bringing the food out into the already set dining room.

If most of the apartment is simplistic, the dining room is downright bare. A small table and chairs is really all that's there. But they're real, solid oak and high quality.

[princenolonger]

"Twenty years from now, I might not seem mind," Bruce replied, already seeing how that could be. After so much time, he'd train himself not to feel the emotions, not to let them distract him. "I probably don't even let myself know that I mind." He caught Tim's gaze. "Trust me. I mind. And, I'd say you're welcome, but that'd just be weird. So, I'll say, I'm sure you give a lot to the cause, and I know you're a very reliable partner."

When Tim hopped off the counter, Bruce grabbed some dishes and followed, waiting for Tim to show him where he wanted them set.