Fic: Close Call
Title: Close Call
Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Richard
Rating: FRC
Prompt: For worlds_finest's close call
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Beta/Editor: None
Author's Note: I needed Sasha to stop haunting my dreams... Just a little cracky.
Disclaimer: Not Mine. Just borrowing, this time will send back not so hot and bothered.
Word Count: Approx. 624 words.
Summary: Bruce apparently think he can do anything if he put his mind to it, Richard says differently. Too bad Clark didn't get the memo.
Close Call
"Dad, I'm not doing this again. This feels like the competitions I have with Alfred and Grandma."
"You're not. I'm not asking you to choose, am I?" Bruce turned in his direction, "Do I look like either Martha or Alfred to you?"
Richard's index finger made inroads through the used flour. "No, but why do you have this need to..." His hand was lifted and dusted off.
Dick, I've had this formula in my head all yesterday and I'll make it work and everything will be perfect..."
Richard never like that look on Bruce's face, it was like the one he read in those Frank Siller's comics that were written about Batman. "Dad..." Right now, Bruce look pretty close to scary or crazy. At the moment he couldn't tell which.
And as the madness came, left just as quickly, Bruce, in his apple pie apron continued to watch the oven. "What? Sit down in the chair, you're making me dizzy."
"Where's Alfred?" Richard, watching for clues took a seat on one of the kitchen's bar island chairs.
"Um, Alfred. Oh he said he wasn't going to remain if," Bruce stood up and a good rendition of Alfred's British tones, "I was to continue with this foolish endeavor."
Richard grumbled in his seat, "I wish I could..."
"What was that?" Those eyes narrowed and Richard looking at his Dad replied, "Nothing."
...
Twelve minutes of silence went by and Bruce announced, "Done."
He pulled out the tray and found a spatula, ready to remove the individual shapes onto to the silver filigree platter from the china cabinet he made Richard hunt for. The teenager stood up and looked at the round shapes Bruce was happily plating. He found a straw and lightly poked at them when Bruce went looking for the sugar.
They were shying close to hard rock discs. "Um... done. Are you sure?"
Bruce turned and open the oven to get the second tray, added the rest. They made a heavy sound against the ornate platter that Bruce didn't or want to notice. "Yes, now go on and try it."
As Richard slowly picked a cooled piece and was praying about the dentist, Clark came home from work: suitcase, tweed ensemble with regulatory glasses completed the outfit. Richard drop the offender and hugged with every ounce of strength into Clark's waiting arms.
After reuniting, Richard literally pushed him into Bruce, knowing Clark is automatically affectionate and Bruce right now accommodating found his parents easily hugging and kissing each other. Richard smiled at the scene and without thinking picked up the item he didn't want to taste. It was an inch to his mouth before he realize and put it down and slowly walked away from it and the kitchen itself.
He mumbled about meeting Billy later for dinner.
...
Bruce after a few minutes kissing wanted his guinea pig, scratch that, son to try out the new cookies. He looked over Clark's shoulder and found the kitchen empty of the teenager. "Where did he go, he supposed to test this."
Clark used his vision and remarked casually, "Can't see him."
Letting go of each other, Bruce went back to the platter, "Oh well, try this for me?"
Clark, while wary of Bruce's cooking knowledge, figured there wasn't anything lethal that could kill him in the kitchen. "Sure."
Two bites in, Clark eyebrows knitted, "It is interesting. Bruce did you put... oh I feel..." Clark slowly sank to the floor.
"Oh damn. Clark?" Bruce was shocked at Clark's reaction to his holiday sugar cookies and wondered. Hmm... Sprinkles. Did I mixed the green sugar with..."
Pairing: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Richard
Rating: FRC
Prompt: For worlds_finest's close call
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Beta/Editor: None
Author's Note: I needed Sasha to stop haunting my dreams... Just a little cracky.
Disclaimer: Not Mine. Just borrowing, this time will send back not so hot and bothered.
Word Count: Approx. 624 words.
Summary: Bruce apparently think he can do anything if he put his mind to it, Richard says differently. Too bad Clark didn't get the memo.
Close Call
"Dad, I'm not doing this again. This feels like the competitions I have with Alfred and Grandma."
"You're not. I'm not asking you to choose, am I?" Bruce turned in his direction, "Do I look like either Martha or Alfred to you?"
Richard's index finger made inroads through the used flour. "No, but why do you have this need to..." His hand was lifted and dusted off.
Dick, I've had this formula in my head all yesterday and I'll make it work and everything will be perfect..."
Richard never like that look on Bruce's face, it was like the one he read in those Frank Siller's comics that were written about Batman. "Dad..." Right now, Bruce look pretty close to scary or crazy. At the moment he couldn't tell which.
And as the madness came, left just as quickly, Bruce, in his apple pie apron continued to watch the oven. "What? Sit down in the chair, you're making me dizzy."
"Where's Alfred?" Richard, watching for clues took a seat on one of the kitchen's bar island chairs.
"Um, Alfred. Oh he said he wasn't going to remain if," Bruce stood up and a good rendition of Alfred's British tones, "I was to continue with this foolish endeavor."
Richard grumbled in his seat, "I wish I could..."
"What was that?" Those eyes narrowed and Richard looking at his Dad replied, "Nothing."
...
Twelve minutes of silence went by and Bruce announced, "Done."
He pulled out the tray and found a spatula, ready to remove the individual shapes onto to the silver filigree platter from the china cabinet he made Richard hunt for. The teenager stood up and looked at the round shapes Bruce was happily plating. He found a straw and lightly poked at them when Bruce went looking for the sugar.
They were shying close to hard rock discs. "Um... done. Are you sure?"
Bruce turned and open the oven to get the second tray, added the rest. They made a heavy sound against the ornate platter that Bruce didn't or want to notice. "Yes, now go on and try it."
As Richard slowly picked a cooled piece and was praying about the dentist, Clark came home from work: suitcase, tweed ensemble with regulatory glasses completed the outfit. Richard drop the offender and hugged with every ounce of strength into Clark's waiting arms.
After reuniting, Richard literally pushed him into Bruce, knowing Clark is automatically affectionate and Bruce right now accommodating found his parents easily hugging and kissing each other. Richard smiled at the scene and without thinking picked up the item he didn't want to taste. It was an inch to his mouth before he realize and put it down and slowly walked away from it and the kitchen itself.
He mumbled about meeting Billy later for dinner.
...
Bruce after a few minutes kissing wanted his guinea pig, scratch that, son to try out the new cookies. He looked over Clark's shoulder and found the kitchen empty of the teenager. "Where did he go, he supposed to test this."
Clark used his vision and remarked casually, "Can't see him."
Letting go of each other, Bruce went back to the platter, "Oh well, try this for me?"
Clark, while wary of Bruce's cooking knowledge, figured there wasn't anything lethal that could kill him in the kitchen. "Sure."
Two bites in, Clark eyebrows knitted, "It is interesting. Bruce did you put... oh I feel..." Clark slowly sank to the floor.
"Oh damn. Clark?" Bruce was shocked at Clark's reaction to his holiday sugar cookies and wondered. Hmm... Sprinkles. Did I mixed the green sugar with..."