Pairings/Characters: (this chapter): Clark/Bruce, Dick, Alfred
Series Notes: In the 23rd century, Earth is a technologically-advanced society that practices the ancient institution of slavery. New superheroes appear on the scene as the Abolitionist Movement gathers strength. Meanwhile, Lex gets his heart’s desire while long-held secrets begin to spill out of the Manor. Nothing will ever be the same again.
The entire series can be found here.
Genres: AU, Challenge, Drama, Slavefic
Challenge Category: Section E (Slavefic)
Rating: (this chapter): PG-13
Summary: The Wayne Family spends a cozy night by the fireplace.
Date Of Completion (First Draft): March 11, 2010
Date Of Posting: June 13, 2011
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 849
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author's Note: Written for my 2010 DCU Fic/Art Bondage Challenge.
Huddle ‘round the hearth,
With love shining.
Sir Alec Saxon
"Hearth And Home"
CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES BY THE FIRE
Rain pelted down onto the rooftops of Gotham, wind sweeping over the Clock Tower’s façade. The black cape of the Batman swirled around as he swooped down onto a gargoyle, closely followed by Robin. He draped his cape over the boy, and Robin huddled close.
“What a night.” Robin scowled as rain blew into his face.
“Agreed.” Batman scanned the horizon. “This is developing into a hurricane. I doubt we’ll see much crime committed tonight.”
“I doubt it!” Robin had to yell to be heard over the sound of the wind. “Can we go home early?”
They stood up to launch their grapple lines when Robin slipped on the wet stone, falling to the roof.
“Robin!” Batman swooped down. “Are you all right?”
Robin grimaced as he rubbed his ankle, rain plastering his hair to his head. “I think I twisted it.”
Batman checked Robin’s leg. “We’ll have to be careful.”
“Darn, I can’t believe how clumsy I was!”
Batman smiled. “It’s the rain. Happens to the best of us.”
“Not to a Flying Grayson,” Robin grumbled.
Batman helped him to his feet.
The wind howled around Wayne Manor, rattling the living room windowpanes. Alfred brought hot chocolate from the kitchen as Dick stretched out on the couch, his swollen ankle propped up on a pillow. Clark sat on the floor by the couch.
“Tough break,” he sympathized.
“Yeah, it’s slippery out there.” Dick looked worriedly out the window. “You think it’s turning into a hurricane?”
“‘Fraid so,” Clark answered. “We’ll just have to ride it out. Thank goodness you didn’t wind up with anything worse than a twisted ankle.” Clark patted Dick’s leg.
Alfred banked the fire, the flames flickering around the room, highlighting Dick’s hair.
He really is going to be a heartbreaker when he grows up, Clark thought.
“Is Bruce going to join us, Alfred?" Dick asked.
“He will as soon as he finishes some work in the Cave.”
“Want to play some chess?” Clark suggested.
“Okay,” Dick said.
Clark rose and went to the library to get the chess set.
“Is Clark all right?” Dick asked.
“He seems fine right now.” Alfred poked at the embers in the fireplace. “How would you like some chocolate chip cookies?”
Alfred smiled and left for the kitchen.
The radio volume was low as Alfred took out cookies from the jar and arranged them on a plate. The ash and maple trees outside the kitchen window bent perilously in the fierce wind, leaves flying wildly as the storm raged. He wandered over to the back door, watching the tumultuous sea as the waves tossed up-and-down.
It reminded him of home. Storms in Britain were quite impressive, and he had grown up on a fine estate, learning his trade, fortunate to know his mother, father and brother, unlike so many slaves. They were gone now but fondly remembered.
Alfred was happy and grateful for the family he had now. All so fragile, and all so strong.
He smiled gently. Clark was fragile with his health and innocence, but he had survived things that would break most men. His Master, his boy, had been shattered by witnessing the deaths of his parents, and had grown into a strong-willed young man, but Alfred knew how broken Bruce could be again if he lost a loved one.
And Dick? That child of sunshine had suffered a great deal, born a slave and watching his parents plunge to their deaths right before his eyes, but Alfred judged him to be incredibly tough under that glittery exterior.
All his boys were tough, but needed protection.
And he would be the one to give all the protection his family would need.
The radio announcer’s voice said, “A monorail train from Metropolis skewed off the tracks a short while ago, a casualty of the hurricane. Rescue workers are on their way.”
A pity, Alfred thought. This storm would wreak havoc.
He brought the plate of cookies into the living room.
Downstairs in the Batcave, Bruce scanned the names of the smugglers on the list that Lois had given him. Something was nagging at him, but he could not quite put his finger on it. The names scrolled on his computer screen: Kelsey Pratt, Jarvis Green, Jeremiah Bracken, Salvatore Magglio, Max Lestrade...
Sighing, Bruce closed the file. Time to go upstairs and join the family.
As the storm raged around the house, the Family enjoyed the fire and each other’s company while drinking hot chocolate and eating chocolate chip cookies.
Dick was annoyed about his sprained ankle but did not mind being the center of attention. He smiled and preened and held court, entertaining his family with stories from his circus days. They were drawn in as Dick was a natural storyteller.
He felt happy, so glad that Bruce and Clark had taken care of things with the blackmailer.
This was where he wanted to be.