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Alfred could keep secrets. He kept Master Bruce’s secret and even in his time as a soldier; he knew when it was appropriate not to say anything. Nevertheless, it was rarely the case that the secret he kept was his own.
But some things required unorthodox means. And even if he lied to his whole family to do it, he would never put a pizza in front of his family. That was beneath him.
When Thomas and Martha still decided on the meal, he had never had to worry about that. These two gentlemen had had exquisite taste, which unfortunately they hadn’t quite been able to pass on to their son. Logically speaking, it was only natural that Bruce‘ did not yet understand that he was putting an arrow through Alfred’s heart with his wish.
“Alfred, can you make pizza?” Bruce asked after he came home from school. It was rare for Bruce to be excited about something, so Alfred let the tone fool him for a moment and actually nodded.
He hated himself for it, but his inner gentleman hated the lies he had to spin even more.
“Of course, Master Bruce, but I’m afraid you won’t be a fan of this.”
Bruce’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh really? But the others in my school swear there’s nothing better than pizza and television.”
Just once, Alfred wished the kids would brag about five-star food instead of carrying the word pizza to Bruce’s ears.
“Then the other kids seem to have a greater fondness for tomatoes than you do.”
Bruce screwed up his face. “There are tomatoes on it?”
Alfred just smiled instead of correcting the boy. He didn’t need to know that one of the key ingredients was tomato sauce. As long as he didn’t demand that Alfred make this dish of an abomination, Alfred could live with the fact that Bruce would have a gap in his knowledge. He just hoped the kids at school would never bring it up again.
How could Alfred have known at the time that another child would move into the Manor a few years later? Dick Grayson, a hyper young man who had previously lived in the circus. Alfred had almost feared that it was all over now, but luckily athletes had a stricter meal plan to follow and eating pizza was not one of them.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” the boy mumbled, looking down at the ground in shame. Alfred was just glad that the boy was talking at all. Coming to terms with the loss of his own parents wasn’t easy, and Alfred just wanted to give Dick a hug and promise him that everything would be all right. But for one thing, that wasn’t his job and for another, he was pretty sure that Dick only opened up to him because they could keep a certain professional distance from each other. Dick didn’t have to be afraid of disappointing Alfred.
“But no, Master Dick. I get that you’re not looking to alter your diet. Nevertheless, I would take the liberty of adjusting the dishes according to their growth.”
Alfred had already become accustomed to taking the necessary proteins into account for Bruce, and cooking for an athlete would not mean any major effort. He could also prevent dishes from ending up on the menu that had no place in this house.
“Thank you,” the boy beamed. A few years later, Dick would still be frowning at a round dish while his fellow Titans ate it with relish. Dick, on the other hand, could only hear Bruce’s warning Alfred did not cook pizza for a reason. After all, it was disgusting.
“Why does Dick think pizza is disgusting?” Jason asked after a weekend at Titan’s Tower and Alfred found it hard to keep his expression neutral. How fortunate that he was drying the dishes while Jason had offered to wash them himself. The boy was bright and, after all these years, the only one Alfred wanted to see in the kitchen. Unfortunately, both Master Bruce and Master Dick had a habit of burning things.
“What makes you think that, Master Jason?” Alfred asked impassively, but knew that this was not a pleasant distraction. After all, the world’s greatest detectives had taught Jason by now ... not that this detective had ever managed to work out that he would probably quite like pizza.
“Well, Gar was going to order pizza for all of us so no one had to cook, but before I could even say no, Dick beat me to it and it seemed like he was doing me a big favor.”
Jason looked at Alfred longer, and now it was Alfred’s turn to be confused. “You don’t like pizza, Master Jason?”
It came as no surprise to Alfred that Jason had already had some contact with food in his life. It was hardly avoidable.
“I wouldn’t put it like that ... I just used to eat it regularly and ... I guess I’ve just come to appreciate the alternatives you offer.”
Alfred smiled. Bruce had already told him that there were several stores in Gotham that he supported financially so that they could give free food to street kids, and it was probably a fair guess that Jason had been happy to get anything hot to eat for a very long time, even if it was monotonous.
Alfred didn’t like seeing how skinny the boy was, but it had improved over the past few weeks, as had their relationship. That was probably why he didn’t risk putting their relationship to the test with a lie.
“May I tell you something in confidence, Master Jason?”
“Huh, of course.” Jason wouldn’t blurt it out. Alfred could count on that.
“There’s nothing I hate more than making pizza. That food doesn’t come into my house, which is why it would be good if both Master Bruce and Master Dick remain in the belief that pizza is something ... unattractive.”
Jason laughed. “If it’s nothing else. I’d rather die than give anything away.”
Alfred hadn’t had to think about the fact that he had confided one of his best-kept secrets to someone for a very long time. But in this house, everything seemed to come up again at some point and the word pizza had proved very persistent.
“I still don’t think Jason likes me,” Tim muttered at the breakfast table. Alfred didn’t dare interfere, but gave Bruce a definite look. There was work for his father to do.
“Oh, definitely not,” Bruce said, seeming proud to have taken Alfred’s hint.
Alfred sighed and spoke up, after all. “What Master Bruce wanted to say was that we would very much like to hear why you have this feeling.”
Telling someone in this family that they were wrong rarely had the desired effect. Unfortunately, you had to use a lot more logic and understanding with these stubborn people. Tim, in particular, wasn’t really the kind of person to just make assumptions if he couldn’t substantiate them.
“He wanted to buy me a slice of pizza yesterday.”
Bruce swallowed and seemed tempted to disappear behind his newspaper. It was obvious that even he couldn’t think of any other way to interpret the gesture. Alfred could reveal his secret now and tell Tim that Jason had meant no harm. Or ... he could get Tim to form this thought in his own head and not say it in front of Bruce.
“Master Tim, have you ever eaten pizza?” Alfred asked. After all, he had never had to convince Tim what a devil’s work it was.
“Yes, and I felt sick for days afterwards.”
Alfred raised an eyebrow while Bruce crammed the newspaper aside and stroked Tim’s hair. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll never have to eat it. I’ll also talk to Jason about taking you out for something more appropriate next time.”
That seemed to settle everything for Bruce, but it didn’t for Alfred. As soon as Bruce had left the room, he turned to the boy.
“You were sick?” Alfred asked, and Tim shrugged his shoulders.
“Sometimes, not just with pizza ... but it was particularly bad then.”
Alfred was aware that Tim tended to neglect food. He also knew that Tim rarely cooked for himself. So Alfred could well imagine a pizza sitting in the fridge for days before Tim even noticed it. As much as Alfred didn’t like pizza, he was sure that Tim’s nausea was more likely caused by food poisoning.
Sighing, Alfred set about washing up. This would never happen again ... but he was still glad that his secret was safe for a little longer.
Alfred wasn’t a fan of how long it took for Stephanie to feel comfortable at the Manor, but with Bruce’s mistrust and charisma, it was a wonder it happened at all. But with each new member of the family, the home felt more familiar, and Alfred enjoyed the fact that it was never quiet. Okay, sometimes at night, there were better things than being woken up by loud noises, but it still felt like something he didn’t want to miss.
In all those years, he had never broken his principles and so he had to be tough with Stephanie, too.
“No! Absolutely not,” he said in a firm tone as he entered the kitchen and saw the finished pizza dough in Stephanie’s hands. She was alone in the kitchen and Alfred had given her permission to cook in it after an initial check. But he certainly hadn’t allowed her to mix those devilish ingredients. He would remember that!
“What?” asked Stephanie in astonishment, her eyes widening as she saw that Alfred wasn’t joking in this case.
“You can cook and bake anything here, Miss Brown, anything but pizza! Do we understand each other?”
Stephanie blinked several times in confusion before nodding. Even if Alfred had spoken a different language, it would have been difficult not to understand him.
Stephanie had taken her already finished dough to Jason, who always seemed enthusiastic when it came to cooking. She didn’t even have to make an effort to convince him. In fact, he did most of the rest of the work, as she had already brought the dough, which gave her the opportunity to invite Cass, who surprisingly brought Tim.
Jason sighed loudly when he saw the group. “If you’re all here, the least you can do is set the table.”
Cass nodded immediately and reached for the plates, while Tim preferred to look past Jason to the stove to see what was cooking.
“What smells so good in here? Now don’t be like that and come out with it.”
Jason rolled his eyes and let Tim have his way, only for Tim to recoil in horror and look wide-eyed at Jason as if Jason had just pointed a gun at him again.
“Pizza? Why? What did I do?”
Jason snorted, remembering all too well how Bruce had spent over an hour explaining to him that pizza wasn’t exactly synonymous with sibling love. As if Bruce had ever tasted pizza or had any experience of having siblings. “Like I invited you over.”
“Bristol snob,” Stephanie scolded, but Cass just shook her head. “Not a snob.”
Jason slowly raised an eyebrow before shaking his head with a laugh. “He told you too?”
Again, Cass answered in the negative. She was simply more observant than her family and had definitely realized that pizza was worth a try, no matter what Alfred claimed. It hadn’t been hard for her to get behind this secret, but Alfred had only officially shared it with Jason, who had kept quiet until now.
“What are you talking about?” Stephanie asked, confused, and Tim couldn’t follow the conversation either.
“Come back when you’re older than us,” was all Jason said. He would continue to keep the secret and if he now had one more person who knew it, he didn’t mind. Alfred deserved not to have to justify to anyone that he didn’t want to cook something.
“That’s impossible!” Stephanie grumbled, while Tim was actually already thinking about whether it would be safe to use an ageing ray on himself.