Team Knight - Round 2 - Fanfic: "The Curious Case Of Bruce Button" [Chapter II]
Title: The Curious Case Of Bruce Button
Author: cardboard_doll
Prompt: Crossover (Nolanverse/The Curious Case Of Benjamin Button)
Word count: 1441
Disclaimer: Me no own, you no sue.
Rating: G for this chapter.
Warnings: Nothing yet, but something later.
A/N: I whipped this out in about an hour, having completely forgotten about the need for B/J interaction in order for a story to qualify. D;
Bad Dante, bad. >:[
But here it is, hope it doesn't seem too rushed, I may come back through and beef it up later.. but for now, I've gotta get ready to meet my friend at the gym. x]
Bruce had never really had the inclination, (nor the physical ability), to play with the other children, instead opting to watch their games from his front porch. He would sit in the small, cushioned wicker chair his parents had set up or him, bony hands clasped in his lap, and just watch them run- ducking and weaving between parked cars, their smalls faces shining with exhilaration.
Sometimes there would be a longing- a feeling deep in his chest -for Bruce to get up and join them. But he never did. Admittedly, a large part of his reluctance was fear of the others' reactions to his 'anti-aging', but that wasn't the main reason, oh no, his primary concern was his mother's response. Though never outright saying it, Bruce knew that she acknowledged his 'difference', and he knew it scared her. Even at the age of eight Bruce was perceptive.
That's why it had been quite a shock that when his parents had announced 'company' for dinner, they hadn't simply meant 'business colleagues'. No, they had meant 'business colleagues, plus their four year old son'.
Bruce had spent the rest of the day fluttering between giddy excitement and nervous trepidation- constantly running up the stairs to practice his greeting, change his clothes.
Feeling nauseous from nerves and emotion, it was almost a relief when there was a knock at the door, five o'clock sharp.
Bruce scrambled into the entrance hall, nearly tripping several times in his haste, and stood straight-backed against the wall, watching as his father approached and opened the door.
A man was the first to enter. Tall and broad-shouldered, he exuded strength and self-assuredness; Bruce almost found him intimidating, until he caught the playful light in his hazel eyes. Curly blond hair pulled into a loose ponytail, his casual style of grooming stood out against the impeccably tailored suit he wore, making Bruce relax a touch.
Next came a woman- his wife, presumably -who wore a simple, yet elegant evening dress. Her skin had a slight tan, and her hair, also blonde, fell in loose ringlets over her shoulders. She had the greenest eyes Bruce had ever seen, and they sparkled pleasantly as she shook his mother's hand.
Bruce had almost forgotten why he had been so tense in the first place, but that was quickly brought back as she stepped inside, revealing the final member of their family.
A boy stood in the doorframe, looking incredibly small next to his muscular father and tall, willowy mother. He clutched a stuffed bat doll to his chest, wide green eyes peering out from behind a curtain of unruly dirty blond curls. He too was wearing an immaculate suit-vest, the hand that wasn't holding his bat toyed uncomfortably with the hem of his vest. Bruce couldn't for the life of him remember what his name was.
“Jack-” yes, Jack, that was it “-darling, come along now,” his mother said, reaching out and tugging him gently inside. The door closed, Bruce's parents took turns remarking on how adorable Jack was- how much he had grown -and then the four of them wandered off to the dining room, leaving Bruce unnoticed against the wall.
But Jack noticed.
Those startling eyes, (make his mother's the second greenest he had ever seen), turned to him the moment they were alone. Bruce felt his throat close up, barely managing to choke out a strangled: 'Um.. h-hi.'
All the greetings and conversation starters he had practiced flew out of his head like birds caged no more, and he was left feeling incredibly naive and inexperienced next to this boy half his age.
Jack took a small step forward.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I'm Bruce... and you're Jack, right?”
Jack paused and clutched his doll tighter, looking suspicious, “How d'you know my name?”
“My dad told me before you came,” Bruce replied, not wanting to seem weird, (well, weirder than an eight year old stuck in a fifty-something year old's body could possibly be), to the first person close to his own age he had ever talked to.
Jack frowned, eyebrows drawn together in thought, as he seemed to mull this information over. It seemed to check out okay though, as he met Bruce's eyes once more, smiling broadly.
“I thought about it, and I think we'll be friends,” he declared, as an afterthought added: “Oh, this is Batsy, by the way.” Referring to the stuffed bat. “Did you know bats sleep in caves? Upside down?”
Bruce nodded, that's not a very original name for a bat-doll, is it?
Wary of offending, Bruce kept his thoughts to himself, instead suggesting that they move to the living room. Jack agreed, and the pair toddled off.
Immediately, Jack flopped down right in the middle of the floor and crossed his legs, looking at Bruce expectantly. Bruce, thinking this a very odd thing to do, seeing as there were comfortable chairs and sofas surrounding them, sat as well, groaning as his joints creaked in protest.
Jack watched him curiously as he slowly lowered himself down.
“How old are you, anyway?” he asked.
“Eight,” Bruce replied.
Jack looked shocked, “Am I gonna look like you when I'm eight?”
Bruce shook his head, “Naw, I don't think so. I got a disease that makes me like this.”
“Oh... I'm sorry, daddy's got one of those too. A disease, I mean. But... I think he looks younger than you!” Jack laughed, his voice rising several octaves and grating on Bruce's eardrums.
The younger stopped abruptly, seeming to have thought of something, he reached into his pant's pocket, and pulled out a worn deck of playing cards. He held them up to the light, so Bruce could see them better. The brunet couldn't understand what was so amazing about a deck of cards, but Jack was simply beaming, so he pretended to be impressed:
“Wow, where'd you get 'em?”
This made the blond's smile widen to the point Bruce was almost afraid his cheeks would split.
“They were my daddy's, but he gave them to me when I turned four,” Jack explained, holding up four chubby fingers, just in case his point didn't make it across. “I love Go Fish, d'you know how to play?”
Bruce shook his head, having never played a card game of any kind before.
Jack's eyebrows shot into his hairline.
From that moment on Jack made it his duty to teach Bruce the magic and wonder of Go Fish. The pair sat in silence, save for Jack's occasional instruction, the only sound in the room was the quiet rustle of cards upon cards, and the steady ticking of a clock.
A half hour melted into an hour, and Bruce found himself catching on- even enjoying himself.
It was roughly six-fifteen when Bruce broke the silence, having drawn an oddly designed card that he wasn't sure what to do with.
“Jack, hey Jack-” the blond looked up from his hand “-what does this one do?”
Bruce presented the unknown card, and to his surprise, Jack smiled fondly.
“That's the 'Joker' card, it's my favourite. It doesn't really do anything, but daddy says it's good luck to keep it in the deck.”
Bruce frowned, looking at the painted clown face, it's monochromatic eyes leering back at him. A shiver ran up his spine. He looked up, and saw Jack looking back at him expectantly.
“So then, what do I-”
He was cut off by the door opening.
It was Alfred, Bruce's elderly, (though ironically younger looking), personal manservant. He had come to inform his charge that dinner had been served, and they were being summoned to the dining room.
Bruce nodded, and he and Jack quickly tidied up their game- Bruce couldn't help but notice Jack tucked the Joker card away last -and went for supper.
Dinner passed uneventfully, Bruce and Jack sharing secret glances and private giggles across the table at one another, much to their parents' amusement, and it wasn't until eight o'clock that they had all had their fill of food and conversation.
The Napiers said their goodbyes, and something about an early business meeting tomorrow, and took their leave.
However, before Jack left he turned to Bruce one last time.
“I was thinking, since we're best friends now, I'm having a party next week. It's my birthday. I'm gonna be five, and you should come.”
With that, the smaller boy left, closed the door behind him, leaving Bruce with an inexplicable warmth spreading through his chest.