#dtrpc

Flowerhounds grow in the light

A few months passed, but then Bella's first letter actually arrived. Her handwriting had always been readable and it was still curved. His joy must have shown because shortly after, he was sent off with some money and a shopping bag to make himself "useful". But that could not spoil his mood now, at least he could buy a stamp at the same time.

Determined he ran past a man to the vegetable department, then he ran past the same man again to the stationery things, and when he saw him again, still empty-handed, while Duke had almost everything, standing by the drinks, Duke had enough. This wasn't normal after all.

"Are you okay?"

"Um … Yes … Sure."

Somehow, that was far from convincing. It didn't help that Duke saw the rather long shopping list in the man's hand. It was also the only thing he had in his hand.

"Have you found anything on the note so far?"

The man looked at him briefly before shaking his head. Duke's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"Haven't you ever been shopping in your life? This store hasn't changed its layout in ten years."

Now the man raised an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, just because I'm nine doesn't mean I can't listen to others. My sources are excellent."

"Okay. Okay. I believe you. In fact, Alfred has always done my shopping so far."

Duke couldn't keep his mouth shut. But he regained his composure relatively quickly.

"I'm almost done. Would you like me to help you?"

"That would be very kind."

"Not a thing, but you owe me an ice cream in return."

It took them longer than they thought to get all their things bought and stowed in the man's cart. And what a cart it was. As clean as it looked, there was no doubt that it probably either wasn't driven often or had just been taken to the car wash often.

"Thanks again for your help. Alfred probably never would have let me forget it if he had realized I couldn't do something like that."

"Neither can you. That Alfred would have every right in the world to tease you about it. What adult has never been shopping for himself?"

Duke knew that might not have been the nicest statement, but in fact, he didn't care. Instead, he unwrapped his ice cream and waved goodbye.

"Wait. Do you want me to drive you somewhere?"

Duke stopped and turned to him very slowly. "I don't know if you know it but giving a strange kid ice cream and then asking if they want to get in the car is something you probably shouldn't do in Gotham. Something you shouldn't do anywhere."

It was almost funny how the man's eyes widened in shock and he immediately took a few steps back.

"That's right. That … was totally inappropriate. I'm sorry."

Duke just shrugged and made his way home. He doubted the man was a psychopath … at least until the time, two days later, when the same man showed up at the home and wanted to take Duke in. In Gotham, only psychos adopted children.

Duke stared at Alfred. Alfred stared at Duke.

Both decided they recognized the other's expertise.

"So why exactly is Bruce not allowed in the kitchen while we're cooking?"

Alfred's left eyebrow twitched, as if he were remembering something traumatic that was better left to slumber in the dark. It had taken Duke some time to adjust to Wayne Manor, but no sooner had he met Alfred than it was easier to come to terms with this new situation. He had a whole room to himself and Bruce had already agreed that Duke could go back to his parents as soon as they were better. In general, Bruce was so awkward that there was no danger from him at all.

"Master Bruce had his chances." Alfred didn't elaborate, and Duke let it go at that. He was just glad that he had gotten a chance to help himself. True, cooking wasn't quite as much fun as writing stories, but when he thought of Bruce being in charge of the food while Alfred took a vacation or wasn't around … well, Duke preferred to take it into his own hands.

"You know what I've been wondering for a while, Master Duke?"

Duke held his breath and stared intently at the carrots as he peeled them. He had a dark premonition of what Alfred was getting at.

"No … What?"

"How Master Bruce developed the sudden interest in taking you in? And I mean you specifically. No other child was even considered."

Duke had made Bruce swear that he would never tell Alfred about the shopping fiasco. The only condition Bruce had set. Other parents probably would have demanded that you make good grades or not be too loud, but Bruce's only concern was that Alfred never know about the embarrassment.

"Oh. Is that so? Um … I think you need to direct that question more to Bruce. It's not like I have superpowers that tell me what people are thinking."

"I've asked Master Bruce. Several times. And strangely enough, whenever I ask my question, something important seems to come up."

"Quite strange," Duke agreed not managing to look in Alfred's direction. One look at the butler and Duke would fold. Why hadn't Bruce prepared him for how hard it would be to hide the truth?

Fortunately, Bruce seemed to have smelled his desperation.

"Mmm. What smells so yummy already?" he asked calmly as he stepped through the door.

"Carrot-curry," Duke answered immediately, hoping he had cleverly diverted attention from the subject.

"Duke was just telling me about how you two met," Alfred commented.

Immediately, Duke looked up. Alfred was standing in front of him, but still Duke could see Bruce widen his eyes in shock. Very slowly, Duke shook his head. Bruce didn't seem to understand this signal.

"Okay, listen, Alfred. I know you think it's important for me to be able to manage on my own, too. But honestly, who's going to know their way around? With this massive supply, these many shelves, and not to mention the distracting offer sheets?"

Two weeks. That's how long they'd been able to hide it from Alfred. Well, at least Duke had done everything in his power. Bruce had messed it up.