master_bruce | OOM: Date

He's more nervous about this than he'd care to admit. It's not helped by the fact that when the time came to go and meet X, he couldn't find a route to the bar. He'd resorted to opening every door in Wayne Manor and...well. It's a really big house.

Eventually, it was the front door that gave in and put him out of his misery. So he'd taken a breath and gone on through, dressed casually in jeans and a plain, untucked, white shirt and sneakers. It had taken a while to decide on what to wear because he had no way of predicting what she would wear and had guessed, in the end, that she'll opt for casual as well. Especially as they talked about sparring. And...caves. Maybe.

So, here he is. Jeans and combed hair, clean shaved and just a dash of expensive cologne, opening the door from Milliways onto the expanse of entrance hall that welcomes people to Wayne Manor.

There is also an Alfred, which he was not expecting. An enquiring look at his friend receives a silent reply of I know when you're getting ready to meet a young lady, Master Bruce, conveyed neatly with just the lifting of one corner of his mouth.

Bruce looks at X, slightly off-stride already.

'This is Alfred. Alfred, this is...X.'

If the man looks suprised at the name, nothing shows. He's far too professional for that.

'A pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Is there anything you require?'

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'Silver room,' he confims, quietly.

'There's another entrance, through the dining room. We could circle 'round.'

He has no idea what they'll do if they do manage to surprise the old man but still. That's not the point.

"Okay," X says.

And then, very carefully --

"You lead."

She is curious.

He nods and walks down the hall, resisting the urge to be a kid and flatten himself against the wall and creep along. If this were just a normal girl, he might, just for the laugh.

But he thinks X probably wouldn't laugh. And he doesn't want to look like an idiot in front of her, he wants her to take him seriously.

So he walks, light-footed and easy, making no sound. Except a few feet fter they've passed the door, his sneaker squeaks a little on the newly-polished floor. He grimaces but tells himself that Alfred probably wouldn't pick up on that, not unless he was listening for it.

Into the dining room and he indicates the door in the far corner (it's a big dining room, complete with long table that'd sit about thirty people comfortably).

'Through there,' he murmurs. 'There's an ante room that leads on into the silver room.'

X slips along just behind him, quiet as a shadow. She scans the dining room as they enter, mapping it for later use, and pausing when Bruce does.

"Flanking would be useful."

Beat.

"If it were a mission."

Considering this is a date, and a game --

She does not have enough data to make the call.

He heads over, standing by the door at looking at it.

'Can you hear anything?'

It's only a slightly exaggerated whisper. There's a bubble of laughter rising up through him and he has to fight to suppress it.

'If we open the door quietly and slip through, we might be able to sneak up on him without him hearing.'

X flicks a glance between Bruce and the door, statue-still for long seconds.

"I think," X says, matter-of-factly (if quietly), "that it is too late."

Maybe Bruce will be able to hear footsteps soon, too.

He clamps his mouth shut in an effort not to laugh out loud, though his eyes are full of amusement. And he does that thing that kids always do; namely, grab her arm and pull her behind the door so that Alfred won't (hopefully) see them when he opens it.

Any dubiousness on X's part is swiftly overwhelmed with bewilderment.

All other considerations aside, Bruce's stifled laughter is loud enough to give them away.

Unless Alfred is deaf.

(She does not think that is likely.)

(It is a) not likely and b) not the case.)

'There you are, Master Bruce.'

The door did, indeed, open. And then shut again as Alfred obviously wanted to see why Bruce was hiding behind the door. With his date.

And possibly ask why he was trying to creep around his own house when it should be quite obvious that he's allowed to open any door he pleases.

'Hello, Alfred.'

Bruce looks guilty. And like he might explode if he doesn't get to laugh properly in a minute. Still, he keeps his voice cool as he can. Like this is normal.

...yeah, he has no follow up to that. Alfred quirks an eyebrow at him and then pointedly turns to X, as though she is the only sensible person worth talking to. (This is true.)

'Would you perhaps like dinner, ma'am? It's time for Master Bruce's cookies and milk but I'm sure we could find something a little more grown-up for you.'

"I like milk," X offers.

"But not cookies."

She still looks perplexed. A lot.

"Dinner would be okay."

She flicks a look over at Bruce, then back to Alfred, then back to Bruce again.

"You do not have to be quiet anymore. He can see you."

It would be bad if Bruce passed out from lack of oxygen. Very bad.

That does it. He clamps a hand over his mouth and gives in, letting out a giant snort of released air and reduced to helpless, shoulder-shaking laughter.

...

...a minute or so later, he waves a hand without looking at them. I'm OK, sorry, carry on.

Alfred blinks at him.

Right.

And turns to X, offering her his arm with a warm smile, walking her down the length of the dining room and leaving the prince of Gotham to his peculiar turn.

'Come along, ma'am. The kitchen's this way. I'm sure the boy will be along in a moment...hysteria runs in the family you know but don't worry, it's not catching...'

Bruce?

Will apologise for this later.

"I know," X says, very seriously. "It is okay."

She will not need that apology.

For a first date (in more ways than one), this has been very --

Comfortable.

And next time Bruce can come to San Francisco for pizza.

OOM: Date

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