#imthebutler

[prevailinglight]

Knock Out

@imthebutler Alfred grinned, wiping a spot of blood from his lip onto his shirt sleeve. “Alright, sunshine.” He turned to face the younger man fully, fists raising. He’d worked his way up to the top of the ladder of the small underground fighting ring. Made up mostly soldiers, it was a place where they could come to work off a little steam and make some money while doing it. Tonight was the first time he’d fought the young blond. He was good. Needed some proper training and a little practice but he wasn’t the worst that Alfred had fought since he’d starting coming here. “You wanna give it another go then?”

———– James Gordon might not have been the biggest of fighters that entered these cages, but he certainly didn’t let that stop him. Where some of his technique could use improvement or more likely getting away from his boxing training, Jim made up with being scrappy and letting his anger fuel his punches. Anger was certainly something he had a lot of. A lot.

“We don’t end till one of us taps out or is knocked out,” Jim pointed out with a smirk as he bounced a bit of his feet, wrapped hands raised. The tape was worn and tinged with blood, none of it his own. This was his fourth matchup that night and he was starting to feel the exhaustion. Still. Jim Gordon didn’t quit. For better or worse he was a stubborn young soldier.

“Looks like we’re up again,” he quipped after a bell rang out and the yelling and cheering around them got loud again. Jim lunged forward, throwing a right hook towards the brit’s jaw.

[riddleculed-a]

@imthebutler

The butler had just stopped in to speak with Detective Gordon for a moment. He was on his way out when he heard the voice behind him. Eyebrow raising, he turned to face the man standing behind him. Ed he thought.

“I beg your pardon, what was that?”

Mortified. That was the only word that described what Edward was feeling right now. Well there were certainly a few others but they were in the same ballpark. Embarrassed. Ed hadn’t expected Alfred to actually hear him. His face had gone white at first before flushing red in embarrassment. 

“Ohh dear---Mister---Mister Pennyworth I--I--nothing. Nothing sir.” The analyst’s hands were shaking more than his voice was. It was true Ed could appreciate a man who knew how to wear a suit. He himself couldn’t buy a properly fitting suit to save his life but his own too tight clothing wasn’t in a good way. Not like Alfred’s. There was a difference in Nygma’s mind. 

[cufflinkandcowl]

[cufflinkandcowl]

Through the Haze

@imthebutler | continued from here

Bruce. The name cut through the haze, the old soldier shaking his head slightly before his eyes focused on the boy. Bruce. He had to protect Bruce. Reggie was still in the house.

“Bruce.” His voice was strained, fear filling him. “Hide..He’s still here.” The butler’s fingers curled in Bruce’s shirt. “Reggie.” Alfred’s hair was soaked with sweat and sticking to his forehead. “He’s in the house. I don’t know how he got in.”

Alfred moved to get to his feet, but his legs wouldn’t support his weight. His hand clutched at the edge of the desk to keep himself from falling to the ground again. “You..you have to go.” His eyes closed tightly as the room started to spin. “He can’t find you..”

***********

Bruce?  Hide?  That was a laugh.  Even if there really was an intruder, it wasn’t like he would ever intentionally leave Alfred in harm’s way. No, they were in this together.  But the name he spoke brought cause for even more alarm.  “Reggie?” he echoed, shaking his head.  There was a pit of fear and anger growing larger in his stomach at the mention of that name.

“Alfred, no.  Reggie’s dead.  I was there.  Remember?”  He’d seen the whole thing, watched when Selina pushed the man from the window.  Until that moment, he hadn’t thought her capable of killing a man in cold blood like that ... even if he HAD nearly killed Alfred.

Then again, this WAS Gotham, and lately the dead seemed to come back to life.  Seriously, lately it seemed like the only people in Gotham who stayed dead were Bruce’s parents.

He reached forward, resting the heel of his palm to the man’s clammy forehead and feeling the heat against his skin.  “You’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath before attempting to slip his arms under the man’s shoulders, trying to lift him up enough to move to the nearby chair.  “I’ll call Dr. Thompkins.  You just rest.”

[cufflinkandcowl]

We’re Family

@imthebutler

Perhaps the return to Wayne manor had been a bit too soon for his liking, but Bruce was rather adamant about keeping an eye on Alfred.  Yes, the butler...his friend...his FAMILY...was supposed to be on bed rest at LEAST for a few days more.  How did Bruce handle himself on his own?  Oh, he managed...somehow.  After all, he’d lived on the streets with Selina for several weeks so he wasn’t completely useless...though one might not have thought it at that particular moment.

Middle of the night, still wearing his day clothes...just a pair of dark slacks and dark turtleneck; one might (correctly) suspect that the billionaire teenager had been wearing the same thing since that morning and had absolutely zero intentions of changing into his pajamas...which, in all honesty, he likely should have done hours ago.  Hell, he should have been in bed and sleeping hours ago.  But was he?  No.  Bruce wasn’t even in his own room.

Instead, he sat in the chair opposite Alfred’s bed...just as he had been for hours, just staring.  Occasionally, he get up, only walk over to the sleeping butler and rest his hand on the man’s chest, feeling the heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of breathing, feeling...reassurance that Alfred was, in fact, still alive and then returning to the chair to watch him a bit longer.  Was he getting tired?  Yes.  Was it starting to become difficult to keep his eyes open?  Yes, his eyes were stinging and his body jerked on occasion to keep himself awake.  But did he want to sleep? Absolutely not.  In truth, Bruce was a little terrified to sleep, worried that if he did...Alfred might not be there when he woke.

[cufflinkandcowl]

Tenacity

@imthebutler | continued from here

"It hasn't always been a pleasure, Alfred, let's be honest," he protested lightly, propping his chin on his butler's shoulder and watching him through the corner of his eye.  "I know I can be difficult."

Perhaps that was an understatement.

His eyes drifted closed as the man pressed a kiss to his head, as he could feel Alfred's heart beating within his chest.  Such a strong heart.  He knew it was there, Alfred showed him every day just how strong that heart was, with every little thing he did, from defending Bruce's life to making that damned shepherd's pie again...but sometimes, just sometimes, Bruce needed that physical reassurance that it was still there, still beating.

Forget the money; without Alfred, Bruce felt that he didn't have anything.

He gave his friend and guardian...his family...another tight and vice-like squeeze and then finally loosened his grip, letting his arms fall to his sides.  He took a step back, looking into Alfred's eyes...but he didn't say what he was thinking just then, that if something ever happened to him, Bruce would be so lost...that Alfred was everything to him.  Instead, he just gave the mad a soft and adoring smile, nodding once to himself.

"I'm gonna...clean up now," he finally said, nodding again and turning to leave the study.

[prevailinglight]

House Guest

@imthebutler

Jim took a breath as he watched Alfred speaking with the GCPD officers outside Wayne manor. “Hnnng,” Jim grit his teeth, he’d pushed off his injured leg rather hard in the process of getting out of sight at the side of the mansion. The blond ungracefully lowered to sit down, well out of sight. Jim winced as he kinda half jumped and crab walked further out of sight before tumbling onto his back. Alfred would sort things out. They’d leave. It would all be okay, right? The idea of the GCPD figuring out Alfred and Bruce were hiding him---Alfred could very well be arrested and then what would happen to Bruce? That thought drained what little color was left on the former detective’s face. He needed to bring Ed to justice and now. He couldn’t risk that boy losing the only family he had left.

Heaving himself to his feet, Jim hobbled to get back in the manor through a back door. Jim decided then and there. He’d leave later that night. Injured or not every minute he sat on his ass was more risk to Alfred. Retrieving the dufflebag Harvey had brought the night before, Jim made his way to the greenhouse attached to the house. These better all not be poisonous, he worried as he went about trying to find one of the plants to stash his gun. He didn’t need Alfred finding it. Hands now a bit dark from the rich soil, Jim walked to the door leading outside and quietly inspected the alarm system.

[prevailinglight]

ALLLLLLFFFRRREEEED.