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"Oh, you're English!" The woman exclaimed, obviously delighted.
Alfred smiled at her. "Yes. Have you been part of the class long?"
"Oh yes, nearly six months now! It's quite fascinating, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Alfred agrees.
"Now you don't strike me as one of those professional chef types," she says. "So, are you here for profession or pleasure?"
"A little of both, I must admit."
"Oh, do tell!"
"I'm trying something new, and the skills of a personal chef would be a good addition," Alfred admits. The Waynes have been good to work for, but he's been wanting to expand his cooking for a while now. With the Waynes on vacation in Europe, and it proved to be too good of an opportunity to pass up. "I'm afraid I only have a few weeks in the area before I'm due back in the states, so I'm making the most of my time here."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear you'll have to leave so soon! You'll have to come over, meet my husband!"
"I would like that," Alfred replies with a smile.
::: Present Day :::
"Alfred! You're back!"
Alfred looks up as Richard practically skids into the foyer, a delighted grin on his face. Behind him, there's a shriek of rage, and Alfred gives Richard a disappointed look.
Richard manages to look sheepish for a few seconds - which is about how much effect Alfred's looks have typically had on the man.
"Yes," he says, turning to put his coat away, giving up the effort as a lost cause. "I see you haven't entirely behaved in my absence."
"Oh, only mostly," Richard laughs, and ducks around Alfred as Damien barrels into the room, carrying his sword. Alfred pauses in the process of reaching for his luggage, and straightens, giving Damien a look.
Unlike with Richard, this one actually has effect.
Damien jerks to a stop, his arm twitching like he was about to try to hide the sword behind his back.
"There is a rule about carrying weapons in the Manor, is there not?" Alfred says mildly, and this time Damien does hide the sword behind his back. "What, may I ask, lead to this?"
Damien looks mulish.
Richard laughs softly. "Just messing around," he replies, cheerful as ever.
Alfred gives him a look, and Richard just grins at him, completely unrepentant. "In that case, you take the suitcases to my quarters. Master Damien, please put the weapons away -" No, he hadn't missed the dagger that had vanished out of Damien's off-hand as soon as the boy had run into the foyer. "And then join me in the kitchen."
Damien twitches, guilty, but gives him a short, sharp nod. "Of course, Pennyworth." The boy pauses, stiff. "It is good that you are back. Excuse me," he says, abrupt, and spins on his heel to stomp out the door.
Alfred sighs; they'll have to work on that. At least the boy's manners have improved exponentially since his arrival.
Richard laughs again as he lifts the suitcases. "Want help in the kitchen?"
"If you would like," Alfred replies, voice dry.
Richard laughs. "Don't worry, I'll stick to being pot-cleaner and ingredient-fetcher!"
"Very well, Master Richard," Alfred says, amused. Lord knows Richard tries but he has the attention span of a fruit fly and no inclination to learn to cook. Even so, over the years he has found that cooking, in all of its incarnations, has been one of the few constants in an ever-changing world. He has found nothing else like it, to bring people together. "Now, I believe you have something that needs doing?"
"I'm moving, I'm moving!" Richard laughs.
Alfred sighs, and smiles; he would call after Richard, but the admonishment would only fall on deaf ears.
It is good to be home.