by Weirdness Magnet
July 23, 2004

Summary: Four hundred words on how Alfred really spends his free time.
Ratings: PG-ish
Spoilers: None

**

Alfred had the evening off. He didn't quite know what to do with himself.

Master Bruce was at a charity event and assured Alfred that Batman would not patrol tonight. He encouraged Alfred to enjoy his evening, perhaps go out. Alfred merely smiled and assured Master Bruce that his night off would not go to waste.

He could go out, he supposed, but there was no real reason for him to. He had long abandoned the habit of going out for its own sake, and he never left the mansion at night in case Master Bruce should have need of him.

Alfred also supposed he could go to bed early and enjoy an entire night's sleep, but he had spent too many nights waiting up and he wasn't close to tired yet, even at this late hour.

He considered his options. His mood suggested a light dinner in the study by the fire and enjoy a bit of reading. Alfred was halfway through the latest novel by his favorite author, and a night like this was the perfect opportunity to finish it. A quiet night, perhaps, but it was the simple pleasures that Alfred found to be the most satisfying.

He finished assembling the turkey sandwich and teapot on the tray, tucking his book in next to the plate. He carried the tray into the study, where the fire in the grate burned brightly and warm. The mansion felt serene as Alfred set the tray on the coffee table and settled in to the overstuffed reading chair.

He poured a small cup of tea and picked up half the sandwich in one hand and his book in the other. Alfred flipped open the book to where he left off last night, when the hero Dirk McGovern was just about to whisk the feisty heroine Ebony Wynd into his brawny arms where she would feel not only his powerful thighs straining inside his woolen trousers but also his hot, pulsating member, which had been and forever would pulsate only for her. They would consummate this feverish pulsating over the next four or five pages, accompanied by trembling flesh and waves crashing against the shore, after which they would lie in the tender comfort of each other's arms and wonder why it had taken nearly two hundred pages to reach this blissful moment.

Truly, Alfred thought to himself while biting into the sandwich, there is nothing like fine literature to accompany a meal.

~end