Not a Young Man Anymore [Oracle]

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It had been a while ago now that Miss Barbara Gordon had moved temporarily back into Wayne Manor. But it had only taken a couple of days of adjustment on all their parts, for it to feel like she had never left it. Alfred enjoyed the company of one of his oldest charges, besides Master Bruce, and the added interaction with Jim Gordon that came about when he could pay a quick visit to see his daughter. There was extra work that her being there needed of course – Wayne Manor was hardly built to be accessible to all - which meant Alfred was busier than ever but he was never disappointed or angered by it. On the contrary, he enjoyed the varying tasks and being able to cook different recipes for the young woman. It was a breath of fresh air for the manor to have her back in its silent halls again. She was a strong, bubbly and hugely independent woman, and someone Alfred very much enjoyed intellectual conversation with. She did often try her best to teach Alfred more skills than he had on the technology sat in the Bacave, and while Alfred humoured her (which she knew he did) he never put much into practise. In return, he offered frequently to train with her in hand to hand combat which she was still very capable of doing.

On the day in question, she had made her way down to the Batcave to perform some upgrades and hadn’t resurfaced for a good few hours. Alfred was not worried; it was not an uncommon thing for Miss Gordon to loose herself in the work she was doing – much like her mentor. He did however know that it was about time she should have something to eat. On her arrival at the manor, he had made sure to ask her of any changes to her diet in the years she had been done, and as such knew the kinds of things she preferred to eat and what was better for her lifestyle. Not that it would ever stop him from treating her just a little from time to time. He made his way down to where she was in the Batcave, silver tray in his hands, a covered dish resting in its centre alongside a steaming mug of hot chocolate. It was topped with whipped cream and exactly 4 marshmallows with just a dash of cinnamon sprinkled over the top – a treat she had loved in the winter months as a young lady. While it was only just entering fall, Alfred knew the chill the hidden base of operations could take on could make it feel like it would snow at any given second. Good for keeping high functioning computer systems cool, not good for human bodies.

“Would Miss Gordon care for a spot of lunch this afternoon?” he asked as he descended the steps to where the Batcomputer was located. It didn’t really matter what her answer was, Alfred had brought it to her – and once she saw what it was he was fairly certain she wouldn’t refuse. He stepped up to the side of where she was sitting, keeping hold of the tray for the moment so as not to put it in the way of what she was working on. “If one does insist on working down here, one should always try and keep warm, after all.”

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It had several days, and each day began the same; the only way Barbara could tell when another twenty-four hours had past. Working entirely on the computer, keeping in contact with several agents, including Batman, it was no simple ordeal. The hacker never heard Alfred walk down the steps or greet her, it was only until he was standing right next to her that her mind would snap back into reality and look away from the jumbotron sized monitor. Barbara rubbed her eyes and looked up at the aged butler, rolling her wheels back to get a better view of him.

“Sorry Alfred, I’m just wrapped up in this… as usual.” The Redhead cleared her throat in a rough and unintentional whisper. “Thank you,” She said plucking the cup and dish off the tray to take a sip, “it’s the afternoon already?” Barbara was slightly embarrassed that she wasn’t entirely in her own time zone for the last few hours.

The Oracle looked back at the screen, with several flashing images coming up; profiles, maps, data, coding, and other miscellaneous information was being fed right through to her. There was still work to be done, but the moment that the creamy froth of the hot chocolate hit her stomach, Babs realized just how hungry she was.

“I guess I could have something to eat. Probably shouldn’t be long though, Black Canary needs me in Russia, the Teen Titans need me on the West Coast, and I don’t want to miss out on an emergency from the Watch Tower. I’ve been collaborating with Holt and J’onzz on a space station upgrade…” Oracle stopped herself before she continued to babble on about things that didn’t concern him. She would often forget how it was like to speak to a real person in front of her; it was something she had to work on.

“I mean, of course. What did you have in mind?”

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Alfred was used to Master Wayne and his vigilante family not answering his greetings sometimes – all of them took great care and pride in their work and as such ended to get a little too absorbed in what they were doing at the time. It was something the butler never took personally, but indeed was something he teased them all about on occasion. He was sure if he didn’t provide such distractions and interruptions sometimes, none of them would have ever remembered there was a life outside the walls of Wayne Manor and the Bat-cave. People who didn’t know Alfred all that well were often surprised by his dry, quick sense of humour and even now some of the family still couldn’t tell when Alfred was joking or making a serious point. It was nice for the older man o know he could still surprise them, keep them on their toes. He was at last acknowledged when he stood beside Miss Gordon and his presence was enough to pull her from her focused attention. As she rolled her wheelchair backwards to face him, Alfred lowered the tray down to her height so she could easily reach for what she wanted, shaking his head a little at the roughly spoken apology.

“No need for apologies, Miss Gordon. I often find talking to myself offers for rather entertaining conversation at times. It is a skill I’ve mastered since the arrival of the Batman.” He quipped lightly, his eyes kind and gentle as he waited for the young woman to take the drink she reached for,

“It is indeed, one o’clock in the afternoon, and close to the time you wanted set aside for more physical pursuits. Did you still require the use of the gymnasium this afternoon?” he asked, though cast a doubtful eye over the busy computer screen that stood before them. Since her move back to the Manor, Alfred had been trying to get Barbara into a routine that gave her a break from the intense work she was continually doing. He had often commented to Master Bruce how rarely Miss Gordon left the Clocktower; at such a young age she should have been enjoying the world, seeing as much of it as she could. At the very least, she shouldn’t have been spending all her waking hours in front of computer screens. Alfred felt a great duty of care towards all the people Bruce considered family or close friends, as if they were his own relatives. He also had promised Jim Gordon he would try to make her a little more focused on other, more fun pursuits again. So, fruitless as it was sometimes, Alfred continued to try.

He listened quietly as Miss Gordon launched – unintentionally – into a run down of just how pre-occupied she was. A small smile rested on his face as she did, knowing she was still adjusting to having to deal with face to face, daily, human interaction. It saddened him a little, remembering how different she had been before her transformation into Oracle. How easily and enjoyably she interacted with everyone, her appreciation for the people she was with and the time she spent with them. He knew her trust in people had been severely damaged, walls even taller than Master Wayne’s in place to guard her against such pain again, and he understood it. But Alfred was disappointed that no-one seemed to be able to take the time to challenge them. Or rather, she didn’t give people the opportunity to.

“Well, given you declined breakfast, I made something to bridge the gap between the two meals…” he explained, setting the tray down and lifting the silver done. A puff of steam puffed stark white in the cold air of the cave, revealing the fresh, hand-made, fluffy stack of pancakes sat beneath it. They were drizzled with syrup and dusted with a little powdered sugar, topped off with berries of all kinds balanced on the stack and scattered over the plate. It was one of Alfred’s specialties, something Master Wayne hadn’t let him make for him since before the murder of his parents. Something though, that all the children of the manor at one time or another had enjoyed. The sweet, fresh smell filled the space between them even making Alfred feel just a little hungry.

“Of course, if you are too busy, I’m sure I can find someone else to enjoy them.” He teased lightly, glancing back down at Miss Gordon with a wry smile.

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The pan of steaming pancakes covered in maple syrup beckoned for her seductively, a hanging thread of drool hung from her lip as Barbara salivated over the baked goodness. Eyes locked and her stomach betraying her, the hacker was hypnotized by its scent that intoxicated her.

She focused back to Alfred’s eyes, as if it he had just said “My eyes are up here.” She cleared her throat and averted her attention back to the butler. Embarrassed and turning red at the mere promise of a home cooked meal was more enticing than the usual hot pocket and red bull diet she had been sticking to. 

“Wait, no. We can, uh… pancakes. Yes.”  Barbara tripped over her words in a raspy voice, wiping the drool from her lip, “Uhm. Yes, I’d like to use the gym today if I can get the chance. I just want to make sure my legs don’t atrophy.”
She explained, though realistically, she probably wasn’t going to get to it any time soon. Always, work had gotten in the way, and the redhead had become less and less active, and more and more of a hermit. Often she wondered if she could still fit in her old Batgirl costume, but knew that with her hips and how much she aged since her last outing, it would only result in a depressed pity party.

She took another sip of her hot chocolate, it was no espresso shot, but it had the same effect. The creamy beverage had only moistened her appetite and the hacked wheeled herself back to make room for brunch. “Hey Alfie.” Barbara started, looking up as he set the table. “I’ve been doing some digging around, and I found out that you’ve been… admitted to the hospital in the last few weeks.” She waited for a moment, taking a quick beat between her words, “Are you alright?”

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Alfred watched Miss Gordon's reaction with a satisfied smile; there would be no question of her eating now, he was sure of it. Not even Master Wayne could resist Alfred's culinary masterpieces at the best of times. After a few moments of silence, Alfred cleared his throat and spoke to get Miss Gordon's attention back to him though he hardly needed the confirmation she very much wanted the pancakes on offer. He gave a nod and set about pulling the retractable ledge out from under the desk the computer equipment sat on and at which Barbara had spent much of her morning at. Far too often, Master Bruce had insisted on eating dinner - in fact all manner of meals as time drew on - down in the cave instead of in the manor itself. Alfred had reluctantly accepted that that would likely not be changing in the near future, but had insisted that there be some form of proper dining facility if he was to continue to bring the meals to him, so Master Wayne had responded with such a compromise. While it was hardly what Alfred considered proper, it was a middle ground the both of them were happier with. 

"Very Good, Miss Gordon. I'll be sure to have it ready for use. I feel perhaps a reminder of its availability for you would be appropriate this afternoon?" he questioned as he retrieved the plate of pancakes from the tray and set it down in front of her. As he had suspected, it didn't appear as though Miss Gordon was all too certain she would be able to accommodate the time for such an activity either, however he could also see she was very much concerned about the effects that not doing such things was having. Where Alfred was able, he would attempt to make sure she not only got back to such things, but also enjoyed them to encourage her to continue even after she left the manor again. 

As he was reaching to move the cutlery over also though, the topic of conversation took a rather quick and unexpected turn. It made him pause just a little in his setting of the cutlery, not having expected the subject to be brought up quite so soon or as abruptly. Since the last bout of Angina, Alfred had suffered no further attacks and had been keeping the prescribed medication in his room. His duties continued to be performed as normal as though nothing had happened, and it seemed Master Wayne hadn't even noticed his brief absence which Alfred had made sure to account for. Perhaps he really should have known that Gotham's eyes and ears would have been the one to uncover his ailments  Still, he simply turned a polite smile Barbara's way, standing straight again now the place was set.

"Perfectly fine, I assure you. Routine check-ups and what not. They tend to get fairly common place when you are no longer a young man." he eventually replied, his hands once more clasping themselves behind his back. 

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"That would be lovely, thank you Alfred." Barbara said regarding the physical reminder, she did need to take advantage of the indoor gyms that were located only a few feet away from her. Barbara did exercise once every other day, but recently, she's been slacking, and the thought of her legs atrophying scared her.

The redhead moved aside to allow Alfred to prep the built in table, "I can't eat this all myself." She smiled at the butler, "Would you please join me?" Like herself, Alfred was dry and sarcastic, though whenever she was around him, Barbara couldn't bring herself to be as witty as she normally is with anyone else. Maybe it was just a sign of respect. Not saying, she didn't respect anyone else.

"If you say so Jeeves, I just want you to know that you haven't left my mind, even if I haven't been to the Cave in a while." She said with a more serious tone and picked up a fork and knife, cutting into the pancakes. She still had seen all of the files the hospital admitted him to, if he wasn't prepared, or if he merely wanted her not to worry about him, she could completely understand. Though possible coronary heart disease was lingering in the back of her head. "The whole family cares about you." Barbara assured him.

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“Certainly. Now should I return here and simply drag you from the cave or would cutting all power to the manor be a stronger reminder?” he asked in a serious tone, though there was a definite smirk hidden at the corners of his mouth and his eyes showed no seriousness in them at all as he regarded Miss Gordon from his height. No-one was spared Alfred’s wit when he had the opportunity to wield it, not even Master Wayne, so young Miss Gordon was as fair fame to him as anyone else. Of course, she often got her own back with her own sense of humour – the nickname of Jeeves, Alfie and Al had all been coined by her after all. Today though, besides the use of such names on occasion, it seemed she had far more serious topics on her mind. No real room for teasing and a battle of wits when someone’s health was on the line.

He glanced down at the plate again he had prepared for her, and shot a disbelieving look her way. He had no doubt of her ability to fully demolish the stack of pancakes in record time given how little she had recently eaten and the way she had looked at them. He also knew however, it was most certainly her way of asking him to stay and speak with her. Given how little company she had been accepting recently, Alfred was more than happy to do so even if he now had a fairly good idea of what it was she wanted to talk about.

“I will certainly join you, but I must refrain from eating for now, if you don’t mind. Ace will shortly be needing his afternoon walk and it is harder to keep up with him on a heavy stomach. Although I suppose, if you cannot finish them, feeding them to him would slow him down which would be a blessing.” He offered in compromise and jest, moving the chair often inhabited by Master Bruce over to the make-shift table and taking a seat.

Even sitting though, Alfred was the picture of class and propriety. He didn’t slouch, or sit back in the chair, naturally well postured and tall, his hands placed on his knees and his feet flat on the floor. He didn’t simply stare at Miss Gordon however, instead pulling out his pocketbook which he carried around with him that listed the chores and activities for the coming days. Master Bruce had more than once tried to convince Alfred to use an electronic version of the thing but, like much else in his life, Alfred preferred the older and sometimes simpler ways of doing his job. It didn’t take long however, before the conversation moved to him again.

“I do believe, Miss Gordon, it is considered rude to go snooping into a man’s personal affairs.” He eventually replied after a brief pause, he not really sure how to handle this type of topic. His tone held no seriousness of course, her whole way of life currently involved a great deal of snooping on many unsavoury people and backgrounds. But he was fairly sure that once Miss Gordon had seen his admittance – however she had come across it – she would not have simply glanced over the fact it had happened. Alfred was sure she already knew everything about what had happened and what had been wrong with him – perhaps even more than Alfred did. So why then, did she feel the need to bring it up with him? Maybe she simply wanted the reassurance he was feeling okay, maybe she just wanted to check on him, but for whatever reason she wanted Alfred to talk about it. The problem was, Alfred simply didn’t know how.

“I do know this.” He continued kindly, smiling softly and giving a small nod to accompany his words. While the members of the family were far apart and often divided, he knew should anything happen they would rally together for him as much as any other member. He had never found reason to call that into question. “What I have never known however, is how to speak about one’s own ailments. It is a personal experience…a trail in some cases….and one I have always been taught to handle alone. So please do not mistake my silence on the matter as my belief that you simply would not care. I assure you however, that it will be a long time yet, before the family finds itself without me if I should have anything to say about it.”