never gonna let you down; alfred (yes_sir) wrote in rooms, @ 2014-12-19 15:33:00
quicklog: alfred and barbara, omg baby
Who: Alfred and Barbara Where: Wayne Manor When: rtfn What: Alfred needs to meet Barbara, Barbara needs some emotional support, and bb needs to get out Warnings: general feels, baby
[The minefield was beginning to feel more manageable, which probably just meant that the fog over the ground was lifting, but he was still in the middle of it and liable to set off a trap. He was getting a better feel for most of the family, though, if not for the network of complicated backstory that connected all of them.
What made it really difficult was when people left and new versions came. Like Gordon. But it was harder for Barbara, of course, and doubly hard because Barbara was at the very end of her pregnancy. Alfred remembered not so long ago when he had visited Gordon in the hospital, and the Commissioner had told him about the baby. He had been so happy then, and now he had to be totally disoriented. Very understandable, but still very difficult for Barbara.
So he sent a message to her under a thinly veiled excuse he didn't even remember, something like he wanted her advice on interior decoration or something, but simply asking how she was over the journals was likely to get an unproductive "fine." He wanted to actually speak with her in person, and he was quick to answer the door when she did finally arrive.] Miss Barbara. [He smiled.]
Alfred. [Though he wasn't her Alfred and the history they shared wasn't there, she still had a warm smile for him when he opened the door. At least she didn't have to worry that she was conflicting with some preconceived notion of who she was. Some people who came through the door expected her older, or under a different name. Or at least not pregnant. Alfred had none of the expectations and she hadn't realized how much of a relief it was until she was there.]
It's good to see you. [An easy truth.] I've been meaning to stop by sooner but things... [Well things had been stressful, and she left it at that as she walked inside, shrugging off her dark coat.] I definitely needed to get out of the tower. And to walk. The doc keeps recommending I walk more. [Ah the joys of the waiting game for the last days of her pregnancy.] How have you been?
[The one thing Alfred could offer was no expectations. Well. He had some expectations about pregnant women in general, but not specifically her. He remembered when Martha was pregnant, all those years ago though it was.
He took her coat so he could hang it up for her.]. And when you say the tower, you mean? [He was still learning so many details. He didn't need to expand why she had been busy lately, although she was free to use him as a sounding board. But how was he?]. I'm adjusting, miss. And doing better to see you.
[Helpfully.] Clocktower. [She said it like it was something unextraordinary. Like everyone lived at the top of tall clocktowers overlooking the city.] Not all of us have fancy manors. [Her grin was cheeky and warm. She was always in a good mood to see Alfred, even if the last few days had weighed heavily on her.] Is there anything I can do to help with the adjusting?
The clocktower. [Of course. Why wouldn't she live there? Alfred sounded skeptical.] I'll have to come see it sometime. [But the comment about the manor brought a genuine smile to his face.] And imitation rarely succeeds against the original. [And where would she find a butler for it! Yes, better to do something unique.] Perhaps a diagram. [He chuckled. As if there were some simple way to adjust!] But how are you, miss?
You should. It's nice. Not as nice as here, of course. And pretty awful if you have a thing about heights, but I like it. [Her smile was a bit fond.] It would be a huge diagram. [Huge. Her hands flailed a little to show just how much.] I'm okay. [She tucked her hair behind her ear as she contemplated being wholly honest.] I've been better. But I'm healthy. [She tapped the top of her belly with a little laugh.] Ready to get on with it though.
It's hard to be as nice as here. [He teased. The height thing, though, that made him shake his head. What was it with this family and heights. Bats, the lot of them.] I'm starting to get that impression. And then we'd have to have alternate diagrams for all these different worlds. [Like her father's. Hint hint. There was no real point in not being wholly honest with Alfred, right?] I can only imagine how exhausted you are. Would you like to sit, or are you going to listen to your doctor's recommendation and walk? We've plenty of ground here.
[She knew a gentle pry when she heard one and nodded.] Walking would be nice and it's been a while since I've really took it all in. [Everytime she was at the Manor, it seemed, it was less than ideal circumstances. There had been too many deaths in the family and she gave a little sigh as she started their walk.] If it's not one thing, it's another. Damian. My father. I just-- [Another sigh.] Just a week. One week would be nice without something going wrong.
[Prying and prodding were Pennyworth specialties.] Ah, yes. Well, don't forget that it's here. Still standing. [And that was never a given, so there was one good thing. She could hold onto that, and come whenever she needed to. He gave her a smile.] At least you'll be well prepared for the crises of parenthood. [Children weren't easy, but she could handle a crisis, right?]
Maybe? [She didn’t sound so sure at that moment, her voice troubled and her brow furrowed.] I just—I wish my dad was here. [Her lips pressed together in a thin, unhappy line. Sure, Jim Gordon was here, but the support she wanted and needed didn’t come with the younger and less mustached package.] He’s nice enough but… He’s not him. I feel like I’m doing all of this by myself most days. [She made a wave with her hand, gesturing to the world around them and down to her form.] And now even more so.
[A child missing her father. Alfred couldn't blame her one bit. He put a hand gently to her shoulder blade.] Of course you miss him. He was thrilled about this, thrilled enough that he was the one to tell me. [Playfully put out, he was, for not being in the loop.]. But you're not doing this alone. [But boy, did that make him wonder what exactly was going on between Dick and Barbara relationship-wise.]
[She smiled faintly at the touch on her shoulder, soft and bittersweet.] I’m glad he was. [And then realizing her own faux pas.] I probably should’ve told you too but— [She shook her head as they walked.] It’s like it is with… Jim. You don’t know us, and that’s unfortunate. And we’re all working to fix that. [The smile got warmer, if only for a moment.] But I figure, how important is the news from a stranger? In the grand scheme of announcements, my being pregnant pales against the big “Welcome to the Neighborhood” surprise. [As for her not doing it alone, well she shook her head again.] Everyone is around, of course. The family hasn’t left me to my own devices. [Just the gentlest of teasing.] But with everything that’s going on, they’ve got more than enough on their plate. They loved him. They’re hurting. I give them the space. [It wasn’t meant to be a step back, a them instead of we but Barbara hadn’t felt the keen loss of Damian as much as the rest of the family. He was family to her too, but he was their brother.]
[How important? Alfred stopped and gave her a firm look.] Miss Barbara, what could possibly be more important? [He paused and offered a quiet admission.] In my world, I never thought Master Wayne would have a family. By my reckoning, this is the eighth generation associated with the mansion. That's butler business, isn't it? [More than the world collapsing. He noticed her separation between them and herself, and that made sense to him. His feelings he wouldn't quite describe as grief for Damian, because he'd barely known him, as much as a general pain. They were both outsiders in this.] Don't give them too much space. They might get distracted and wander off. [Lost little bats.]
[She knew that look. That look transcended time and space and pocket universes, and Babs looked abashed in the face of A Look from Alfred.] Well, a stranger tells you she’s pregnant. That’s wonderful. Great. It also doesn’t mean too much. Not when the world is different and your life is displaced. [She felt bad for Jim. She did. But she was getting tired of having to be understanding for everyone and it showed in the slight stress of her tone. Still she smiled at the eighth generation Wayne.] I never thought of it like that. And I’ll try not to have them wander too far but [A sheepish shrug, an awkward shake of her head] I’m trying not to get… too close. Dick and I have realized that we’re no good for each other. [Saying it aloud never made it any easier to make peace with.] I don’t want us… falling into habit while we grieve.
Well, it means everything to you. [He countered. Again. She sounded exhausted, and he couldn't help but validate her feelings in all this. As much as he sympathized with people tossed into this situation, she didn't have to repress her own feelings for others. Not around him, at least, but bats and their sort so liked to repress. He continued walking, considering her words.]. Why do you think you're not fit together, miss? [She might not want to talk about it, but he had a level head. He wanted to know her feelings just to know them, but maybe he could also be a sounding board for her.]
It does. [Her smile showed it as well as the faintest watering of her eyes. She caught herself as her gaze misted over, a sheepish laugh tumbling out as she dotted her eyes with her fingertips.] Oh god. [What a loaded question. Why didn’t she and Dick fit together neatly? It made her take a breath.] Who knows. We just don’t. [This time the warning of tears came with a sniff.] When we’re not together? We get along great. When we are together, it’s a damn mess. We’re having a baby together and we’re tired of fighting each other. We love each other. We do. We have for years but we can’t make each other happy and we’re just—[She frowned as the tears rolled down her face and she wiped them with the back of her hand.] We’re just done trying. Maybe we should’ve thought this through better but there’s no changing it and that kind of energy is better spent on other things. Cuter things. Baby things.
[Alfred very efficiently drew a handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to Miss Gordon. Did he have the answer for her? Certainly not. Relationships were very difficult without alternate worlds and who knew what else working against them. All he had for her was a warm expression and encouraging words.] You can't stop trying for people you love, but love isn't always about making people happy. [He agreed with that. Sometimes, it even meant making them unhappy for their own good.] Hold on to the love that you have, to what works, and you'll find a way to make the family work, too. [It wouldn't be conventional, but they all knew about unconventional families.]
[She took the handkerchief with a watery smile. Of course he had one at the ready. Some things never changed.] The family is the easier part. We’ve always made that work. I’ve never been—okay maybe there’s a little part of me that was worried but that’s less so. [She wiped her face with the hanky and held it tightly.] This wasn’t how I imagined my life. At least not without someone to do it with. Not that I couldn’t, or that no one can but I thought… [She shook her head.] I don’t know what I thought. I don’t think I ever gave it too much thought. Maybe that’s the problem.
[Oh, the expectations for life. That never turned out how any of them expected. Alfred gave her a sympathetic look.] No, I wouldn't imagine anyone would picture this sort of situation. Even in the midst of all this, I don't think any of us can really imagine it. [Alfred didn't wish it on any of them, either. Being a single parent, even with all the support in the world, wasn't easy.] Maybe the problem is that you can't decide what you want. [The problem, he wondered, was less about not thinking and more about not deciding.]
[She smiled faintly, without true mirth.] Probably. I was told the world was my oyster when I was little. I don't think I ever got over that idea. But really, is there ever really a right answer? Especially when you have the life of someone else to consider? [She gave him a sidelong look, wary and hopeful for whatever he might say.] Does it ever really matter what we want when there are children?
[He smiled, a very fatherly smile, as he tilted his head to the side.] Well, miss, the good thing is that once that baby comes, once you see that dear little one, one's priorities become much easier to arrange. [Not that it always made the choices easier, but it helped. It was amazing how a baby made you both worry less about the little things and worry so much more about somebody else in the way that Alfred, at least, thought nothing else could. He favored such an ideal perspective about parenthood, but he was a sucker for children.]
[It was, of course, the answer she expected. It was the only answer, really, and she smiled up at him in turn. The expression flickered a moment, her brow furrowing, and she craned her head to look back the way she came.] Arranging is one thing. [Her voice was a distracted murmur.] Sticking is another. Or at least, making peace with the priorities you're letting go. Alfred, will you excuse me? I think-- I need to use the ladies room. [It was funny how her manners always honed themselves sharper when she was in his presence.
You'd be surprised how natural that can be. [Hopefully it would be for her, to keep those priorities in line. He was slightly concerned as she grew more distracted, but she was heavily pregnant. Heavily pregnant women had to use the bathroom frequently. It was no problem.] Of course, Miss Gordon, go right ahead. [Manners were very important. Without manners, where would they be?]
I don't know how natural vigilantism is. [It was meant as tease and it came with a smile, but her expression was fleeting as she made her way to her destination. Hurried steps shuffled to the bathroom and closed it quickly. It was several minutes passing, nothing out of the ordinary, before she called out from behind the door. Voice pinched, maybe a little panicked.] Alfred?
[Oh, there was nothing about vigilantism that was normal, and Alfred gave her a bemused expression as she excused herself. He waited patiently, absently checking that strange journal thing, when came a very concerned call. He was immediately alert.] Miss Barbara? What's the matter?
Oh, nothing. [Ha!] Can you-- do you feel like driving? Right now?
[Eyebrows were rising very, very high.] Did you have a destination in mind? Perhaps the hospital? [Cough.]
[Brightly.] Got it in one! My water broke.
[Alfred was all excitement.] Very good, miss. [And because nothing could go by without a quip.] We'll take the Rolls. The Batmobile would be excessive.
[He could be excited. She was, well anxious. ] Only a little excessive. [Still, he got a little laugh from behind the door.]
[If he were less dry and well-mannered, the excitement would be more clear. A baby!] I'll bring the car around. Don't worry, Miss Gordon. You'll both be fine. [Said with all the confidence one would expect from Alfred.]