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The Birthday Present	By : Kip Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 8477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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What do you get for the person who already has everything that money can buy? … If you're a really good friend, you get them something that money CAN'T buy…

"I still think that this is a very bad idea, Master Dick…" The disapproval in the dry tones was restrained, but more than obvious to someone who knew Alfred as well as Dick did.
"Rubbish! Can't you see how perfect it is, Alfred?"
"Perfect? In what way, precisely?" An elderly eyebrow rose. "Master Bruce has never been terribly fond of either houseguests or pets…"
It was fairly obvious to Dick that the old man had no idea of which category the current problem ought to be placed. Dick had plenty of ideas, but wasn’t about to mention any of that to Alfred: after all this man was the nearest thing he had to a grandfather.
"But he does love a mystery, doesn’t he?" Dick reminded him.
"Ye-es." Alfred admitted. "That is certainly true."
"But you've still got doubts, haven't you?"
"I am very much afraid so."
"Then I'll take the blame if he doesn’t like it." The younger man offered, “It was my idea, after all…”
"Most generous. You will however, not be here at the, er, moment of truth."
"You know that I can't very well help that, Alfred. I have to be back on duty at the precinct this afternoon. Thinking of which," Dick glanced at his watch, while taking just one more look around the room at their hasty preparations, "I'm going to be late if I don’t go right now."
"I do understand."
"Yeah, Alfred, I guess you do …" But will Bruce? Despite his brave words, Dick was nowhere near as confident as he pretended to Alfred. Oh well, Bruce could only kill him…

* * * * *

"What?" Bruce stared at the handwritten card as if it might bite him. "Have you seen this, Alfred?" He waved the card at the elderly man. "Dick came here with what he claims is the ultimate gift, and he left without even waiting for me to open it?" He snorted. "Can't be all that sure about it being perfect then…"
"It was my impression that Master Dick fully intended to wait for you, Sir. However he was recalled unexpectedly to duty." Alfred soothed. "Staff sickness, I believe?"
"Yes, well…" Bruce shifted in the seat. "If it's wrapped up, why didn’t he leave it down here with the card?"
"That would be because the, ahem, your present, is rather too large to be conveniently accommodated on the dining table." Came the calm reply.
But Dick always complained that this table was practically large enough to use as a football pitch! What the hell did he get me? A woolly mammoth?
Bruce peered across at the elderly man. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but he could have sworn that Alfred was looking flushed!
"Alfred, are you unwell?" He asked, praying that it wasn’t so. Alfred being ill was bad enough, but for it to happen on Bruce's birthday was nothing short of disaster! With Dick absent too, what was Bruce going to do all day? Maybe he could change his mind and go in to the office after all?
"No, Master Bruce, I am perfectly fine. Perfectly fine."
So what aren't you telling me? Bruce had known the old man for long enough to spot when Alfred was concealing something. Oh no … It must be something to do with the damn present! Alfred must already know what it is!
"It's not a dog, is it, Alfred? Dick’s present, I mean…" Assailed by uncharacteristic nerves, mainly because Dick had started to get some very strange ideas lately about what Bruce ought to like, he blurted out the first thing that came into his head.
"Indeed not, sir."
Was he mistaken, or did Alfred look the slightest bit amused at that? Oh dear, this was getting worse by the minute.
"Master Bruce, instead of guessing blindly, I would suggest that it might be more productive for you to follow Master Dick's instructions, and investigate firsthand, sir." Alfred told him, starting to clear the breakfast things away. "If I may be so bold?"
"You, bold? Perish the thought!" Bruce raised an eyebrow. Bossy definitely, disapproving certainly… Endearing old bastard.
"As you say, sir."
"Meaning that you would like me to get out of the way, so you can get on?" Bruce teased.
"I would never suggest such a thing." Alfred reminded him.
"No … you've got me well trained enough by now that you don’t have to." Bruce admitted defeat, and got up. "I'm going to go and look at my present, Alfred. If you hear me screaming, then it's got me. Of course, by then it will be too late, so just send flowers."
"Very good, sir." Came the unflappable reply. "Roses or lilies?"
"Pansies." Bruce couldn’t resist. As he started to close the door he was sure he heard the old man mutter something about that being more Poison Ivy's style than Alfred's.

The instructions on the card were quite clear. Straight after breakfast Bruce was to go to the old training room, and his present would be there.
"So if Dick wants me to go there in such a hurry, why does he say that I'm to stop and look in through the mirror first before going inside?" He read the card again as he strolled along the little-used passage. Truth be told, he was actually finding all this cloak-and dagger stuff quite exciting.
"It's certainly off to a more promising start than any of my other birthdays … of course it's bound to be an anticlimax in the end… Dick has no idea of what I would really like to have as a present. I don’t even know myself, so how could he?"
At the far end of the passage, he waited, close to the panel that concealed the exit, fingertips just brushing the inside of the frame.
I see Dick's indulged in a bit of interior design …
Instead of the functional electric lighting that was normally put on when the room was in use, the training room on the other side of the mirrored glass was dimly lit by a number of well‑spaced candles set in mid-height sconces. The approximate centre of the floor was now fully occupied by a mound of fluffy sheepskin that had certainly not been there a few days ago.
Why has Dick put a heap of sheepskin rugs in there? And since when did puppies and candlelight go together? Almost convinced now, despite Alfred's assertion to the contrary, that it was some sort of canine disaster that Dick had purchased for him, Bruce waited for several minutes, simply looking. However, the longer he watched, the less likely it seemed that Dick had left a puppy in the room.
The smooth floor was clean, with no sign of the usual sort of mayhem that dogs tended to bring with them, particularly young ones.
Not a puppy then. Probably not a cat either…
Bruce started to relax just a little.
Maybe I'm worrying unnecessarily and it isn't something alive?
In which case the instructions to wait and watch before entering the room didn’t make sense, and Dick rarely failed to make sense.
A tingle raced through him as the mound moved ever so slightly.
It IS alive!
By this time he could no more have stayed in the passage than he could have walked away. Triggering the catch on the panel, Bruce slipped into the room and waited.
Inside the chamber the air was warm, and there was a soft aroma… of…
What is that scent? Bruce inhaled deeply. Sheepskin obviously, candle wax: plain beeswax, as Dick was well aware that Bruce couldn’t bear the perfumed monstrosities that some of his colleagues insisted on foisting on all and sundry. And something else… intriguing, very slightly musky and definitely inviting …
Stepping right into the room, Bruce pressed the panel closed behind him.
With the glass properly seated back in place only a practiced eye would be sure of which of the numerous mirrors marked the exit. There was a folding chair beside another of the mirrors; Bruce had noticed it from the passageway. Laid on the wooden seat was a rectangle of card, identical to the one he had found waiting for him in the dining room.

Bruce:
You’re here, so I have your interest this far at least. I know how you like to take your time, so I'm sure you won’t rush or do anything rash. This is definitely a 'look but don't touch' situation. I can guarantee that your present is housetrained and has a completely clean bill of health if nothing else. My guess is that it will be at least midday before the anaesthetic wears off completely. Advise you tread lightly until then.
D

Anaesthetic? Housetrained? Bruce dropped the card onto the floor with shaking hands. What the hell had Dick got him? He stared at the mound of fleece.
What time is it now? Fumbling for his wristwatch, he found the time to be just a little after eleven. In just under an hour, whatever it was under there would be waking up.
In which case, it might be a good idea to know what I'm dealing with, before it does…
Tentatively, he stepped closer to the mound and knelt beside it. The skins were thick and soft, which was good because Bruce knew from years of experience that the floor in here was hard and tended to be rather cold especially early in the day, and his knees were not as forgiving as they used to be. Taking a good grip on the upper skin, Bruce lifted it slowly aside.
"Oh … My … God!"
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The Birthday Present