A Quiet Morning (Selina)

Participants: Bruce Wayne / Selina Kyle
Open/Closed: Closed
Location(s): Wayne Manor
Time of Day: Mid-morning
Weather: Overcast
Summary: A quiet morning at Wayne Manor.

Bruce was skilled at a great many things. This was a purposeful act that he had put much effort into. He was not born greatly skilled. He was intelligent as a child, but beyond that he had been fairly average. It took a journey around the world and blood and sweat and broken bones for him to acquire his many skills. He continued to collect skills to this day, adding a new one to his repertoire whenever he could.

One skill that had admittedly been neglected was that of cooking. He could bake just fine, as those recipes usually left little room for improvisation. Cooking, on the other hand, usually left a fair amount of wiggle room. That wasn’t to say he was a disaster at it. He knew how to follow a recipe and the basics were simple enough. He’d also improved a fair amount since years back when he’d been stuck with a young, new ward and vacationing Alfred, which was when this lack of his had truly made itself known. Still, try as he might, he’d yet to achieve anything on the “Alfred level” of delicious or fancy. That was fine, though. He’d settle for edible.

Scrambled eggs, though? Scrambled eggs he could do. They would probably turn out somewhat bland, as he wasn’t sure what cheese to use so he decided to go without and they were currently out of butter. He watched his task like a hawk. He had overcooked them once. Jason had eaten them like a champ, but seeing the hesitation on the face of a young boy who barely looked at food before shoveling it into his mouth was enough of a sign to Bruce.

The manor was silent aside from the sizzling of the pan. Alfred was in the city for the day running errands, and he had elected Damian as his assistant for the task. The boy had been less than thrilled, but Bruce had made some inane comment about it being good training and that had been enough to take him down from irate to simply, well, grumpy.

He brought the mug of coffee to his lips, but that was just as a pop sounded through the kitchen, signaling that the toast was finished. Reluctantly, he set his mug down and even more reluctantly, he turned his focus from the eggs to retrieve the slices from the toaster.

"I was going to be mad at you for leaving the bed," a voice commented from one of the kitchen's several doors. Selina leaned in the threshold, arms crossed over her chest, inhumanly bright emerald eyes twinkling above a soft smirk. "But this? Well. You get a pass."

She wasn't lying, either. Waking up in the master bedroom of Wayne Manor was still strange for her. Not in a bad way, just a different one. Selina wasn't a creature of habit, and this was becoming one. Promised to stay one, even. That strangeness wasn't so strong if Bruce was within reach under the silk sheets. Sometimes just to brush with the back of her hand blindly to ensure he was there; more often to curl up against demandingly.

Selina pushed off of her lounging spot and strolled across the kitchen to where Bruce was with the toast. The gown she wore over shorts and a tank top trailed in her wake, and if her short hair looked perfectly disheveled it definitely wasn't because she'd made sure it was in the mirror before padding downstairs. Selina stopped before Bruce, waited until she was sure he was expecting a kiss, then snatched a piece of toast instead of giving one.

Popping it in her mouth, she took a bite and drifted over to hoist herself onto the counter. Sitting there, legs swinging over the edge, Selina raised a brow at the stove while she chewed.

Bruce Wayne

He gave Selina a sidelong look as she made her presence known, his hands methodically plucking the bread from the toaster and stacking the slice on a small plate. A smirk flitted across his lips at her words.

“Alfred’s out for the day” he said, by way of explanation. He probably wouldn’t have needed a reason, were it not such an unusual sight. He would feel some shame in that, but he knew Alfred was particular about who used his kitchen anyway. He did lean in for the expected kiss when she approached, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as she redirected last second to grab a slice of toast. A corner of his mouth, however, did tick up with amusement.

He set the plate aside on the kitchen island, where he’d already placed three jars of various jams, each with their own butter knife. It was just, once more, lacking butter. He’d never noticed before what a staple for any meal it was until now. Oh well. It couldn’t possibly make much of a difference.

He returned his attention to the eggs, flipped them in the pan smoothly enough that even Alfred would’ve been impressed. He frowned at the spreading brownness now revealed and decided they were probably cooked enough. He turned the stove off, grabbed the pan, and then dished the eggs evenly onto two separate plates. The pan was set aside in the sink and one plate slid toward Selina. Bruce then turned to the fridge, opened it and after some rifling, pulled out a small bottle of ketchup. It was honestly a miracle Alfred had even allowed such a small portion into the house.

He squirted about a spoonful worth onto the side of his plate, separate from the eggs, before setting it on the counter and glancing between it and Selina curiously as he realized he had no idea how she liked her eggs. Did she even like the scrambled? He should’ve asked ahead of time, but he admitted he had been somewhat going for a bit of a surprise for her. He knew that grand romance wasn’t his forte, but he felt the need to show her he could still do the simple things. Either way, what came out of his mouth was: “Do you like ketchup?”