Fic: A Batclan Christmas Carol 4
Title: A Batclan Christmas Carol - Part IV
Authors: aiyokusama & vespertila
Prompt(s): [special prompt #14] Hot Cocoa & [special prompt #16] Family/Home
Characters: Alfred, Babs - mention of Bruce, Jason and Stephanie
Genre: fluff, a little bit of angst (maybe?), holiday
Rating: G
Words Count: 1.577
Summary: Going to see the Wizard
NOTE: LJ HATES me and won't let me put this under a cut. I'm so very sorry!
While Alfred is merely the butler, and not a super sleuth such as master Bruce or master Tim, he has his own means of finding their wayward Robin. And in this case he'll also be able to extend another invitation at the same time. A quick phone call assures him that Barbara is indeed at her Gotham apartment, so it's only a matter of heading that way.
Parking the Bentley, he goes to the front door and squarely faces the security camera as he rings the chime.
The ginger haired woman - once known as Batgirl - drives her wheelchair to the entrance and pushes the button which unlocks the front door.
"Alfred," she smiles, the green eyes behind the spectacles' lenses shine with a warm light. "Welcome!"
"It's delightful as always to see you, Miss Gordon," the elderly man says honestly, holding out his hands to her.
"Oh, come here" Barbara answers, taking the hand and tugging the man closer, so she can give him a hug and not a mere handshake. She's been spending every day of her life since the "accident" which deprived her of the use of her legs, training her arms, so both the pull and the hug are mighty.
And not only in the physical sense.
As the with the rest of the Batclan, Barbara has a soft spot when it comes to the old butler.
Alfred is only too happy to give the vivacious young lady a proper hug, letting her know just how glad he is to see her. Really, she does need to come around the Manor more often.
Straightening up, he smiles.
"I fear I have come with a couple of requests for your lovely self," he tells her with an easy smile.
Barbara hums, a priggish smile quirking her lips. "I should have seen it coming..." she musses with false airs, driving her wheelchair towards the living room. "You guys ALWAYS have ulterior motives..."
Alfred follows her.
"Oh, it's nothing illegal, I assure you. Well, I don't think it is, but you never know," he admits, his gray eyes dancing. "Besides, we are what we are, Madam."
Barbara accepts the latest comment without a word back. After all, it is true, they ARE what they are. All of them.
The living room is bathed in a silvery light raining in from the outside: the sky is entirely clothed by a thick mantle of gray clouds. Babs' mother used to call that a "snowy sky". Most likely, Gotham is going to have a white Christmas.
The woman aims to the table on which she had previously arranged two large mugs and a steaming jug in anticipation of her guest.
"Well, whatever it is, it can wait. Cocoa comes first," she mock admonishes, her eyes dancing.
"Of course. Proper decorum must always be observed," he agrees, sharing the joke. The man seats himself and allows Barbara to play hostess to him.
Out of any doubt, the cocoa she prepared will never taste half as good as Alfred's given she has no clue what he adds to it. But the act of making THAT specific brand of real hot cocoa and offering it to the butler on THIS very day is a reversed custom and a sort of reciprocation in kind. A custom because Barbara can't remember a single Christmas Eve spent at the Manor, without Alfred's hot cocoa; and a reciprocation in kind because the beverage Alfred makes them always grants a feeling - to her, Dick and Bruce and all the other members of the clan who followed in time - of being part of something... bigger, which was warm and sweet, exactly like the brown beverage.
"So Mister Pennyworth, spill the beans." She grins craftily, finally deciding to skip the formalities and go straight to the heart of things. Barbara has always been a direct person and the oncoming Christmas day won't change her way of behaving.
"I wish to invite you to a family get together at the manor," the butler says with a smile. "But I also require your assistance in locating another member of the family."
The woman's eyebrows arch a little from behind the spectacles.
"Well," the filled mug still conveys a nice feelings of warmth through her fingertips. The woman takes a sip and then opens, carefully, "I COULD trace Bruce AND Jason down, but Alfred... in all honesty, do you REALLY think that they'd show up to a family reunion? Just because it happens to be Christmas?"
Alfred shows her a placid expression. "Master Bruce shall be easy enough to coax back, I merely wish to have all else in place first. And Master Jason....I am hoping that a personal appeal from myself might, at least, encourage him to make an appearance."
High hopes - Babs has learned the hard way - can only hurt you in the end...
She scans the visage of the elder man thoughtfully, for a second or two, without uttering a word.
Alfred sips his coca, waiting with the infinite patience he's cultivated through long practice with the Batclan.
"What if Jason refuses?" Babs finally asks.
"Then I shall have to respect that," the man says evenly, any feeling he has about that eventuality carefully hidden.
The redheaded woman makes a little grimace. "It'd be useless to suggest you not try, right?"
Alfred gives a little smile. "Of course. I'm British," he replies, as if that answers everything. In a way, it does.
Babs accepts that short answer with a ghost of smile, as the man sips his cocoa.
The woman half-closes her eyelids at the contents of her own mug. "Bruce is in Ontario, Canada," she finally says.
Alfred nods. "I know. I shall be contacting him in due time."
"Jason..." Babs breathes in, hoping - no, WISHING - for a real Christmas Miracle to happen this time; even if she's realist enough to know that such a thing will never be. "Jason is at Gotham International. I noticed him this morning," she admits reluctantly.
Alfred's eyebrows go up. "Is he leaving us?"
"I don't think so. I've been observing him for a while," she says. Babs is definitely not ashamed to admit that YES, she knew where the troublesome former Robin was and that YES, if Alfred hadn't paid her a visit and expressly asked her about him, she wouldn't have told anything to the rest of the Clan and that YES, she has being keeping Jason under surveillance because of the possibility that he might cause some trouble. "Since this morning, he has just being sitting by one of the gates in the terminal, doing nothing special," she elaborates.
At that, Alfred nods and just calmly finishes his beverage.
"I see. Then I shall head that way." He stands and smiles, reaching a hand to the woman. "I shall try to have everyone gathered by eight o'clock.. We would be very pleased if you'd join us."
"I'll be there," Barbara promises sincerely. As she takes the butler's hand, she feels the need to add softly, "Promise me you won't be too disappointed if Bruce and Jason won't show up..."
"They shall not get that chance, dear Lady," he assures her with a gentle smile, giving the hand a little squeeze. Tanking on that, something else occurs to him. "May I make one more imposition?" He inquires politely.
Babs nods, a little curious what else there might be.
"Might I use your telephone?" the proper man asks with the same unruffled calm as before. He gives no hint of what he has in mind.
"Of course," Barbara gestures the butler towards the nearest cordless phone; which has currently found a home on a piece of furniture just to the side of them.
The elderly gentleman smiles, turning to pick up the receiver and dialing a number he has not made use of in some time. When a familiar voice picks up, he smiles. "Miss Stephanie. It's Alfred Pennyworth calling." The smile widens. "And you, young miss. It is because of the season that I am calling. I and the others should like it very much if you would join us at some point today. We having something of a...family shindig, shall we say."
As she observes the little, dark-dressed figure of the butler making his phone call, Babs thinks that it was futile for her to ask Alfred to desist.
Alfred will never give up. That's how he managed to make a family out of a bunch of withdrawn egoists like the ragtag lot of them.
The butler smiles into the phone as he listens to the happy burble on the other end. "I am thrilled to hear it," he says with genuine cheer. "I look forward very much to seeing you soon. Good day." He hangs up and gives the smallest of smiles, but his sense of satisfaction is palpable.
"Another bird has flown right in your net, Mister Pennyworth." Barbara flashes the man an amused, roguish smile.
He chuckles warmly. "So it would seem, my dear. So it would seem." With that he walks over and leans down for another hug before he departs for the airport.