Legend's Apprentice

Dinner

Bucky found a parking spot not too far away from his house, and we walked up the path. The gardens were dormant and the plant beds were neat, but it was less inviting than it had been, it felt. Emma met us at the door and had a hug and kiss for her husband. She put her hand out, tentatively, to me, but dropped it before I could figure out what she wanted. "Come on in, Alex," she said, and I followed them into the living room, where I was promptly knocked over by Sigurd and Torburn. The little dogs crowded in between the big dogs' legs, their little tails wagging cheerfully. You gotta love pets. That simple, honest happiness to see you is a real gift after a long hard day. Or any day, really.

Finally I got up again and had a seat. "Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes," Emma said. "Is Damian going to be ok, Alex? He's a brat, but a good kid."

"I don't think he's much of a brat, actually," I said, a trifle coolly. Somewhere along the line I'd started to suspect that Damian put his bratty manners on like a disguise, possibly so people would think he's just another spoiled rich kid and therefore overlook him. "He's expected to be fine."

She caught the coolness and looked like she was restraining her temper a bit. Bucky might say he had a hard time holding her to account himself, but he was pretty good about sitting back and making her deal with the consequences of her actions. It was an impressive tactic. I'd have to remember that.

"And how are you?" I wondered if the order of the questions was a subtle dig; she'd asked about a kid she knew slightly before me. But Damian's injuries were a hell of a lot worse.

"I'll be ok," I said. "Mr Wayne has a really nice tissue accelerator. It's full-body, so a treatment doesn't take as long."

"That's good to hear," she said. There was a brief silence.

"Tell her your news," Bucky prodded me. I grinned at him.

"I got a Wayne Foundation scholarship," I said cheerily. "Seventy-five thousand a year for four years. That almost puts me over the top for the more expensive schools, and I still have some applications that I'm waiting to hear back on. It would be great if Mom and Dad could keep the money they were going to contribute." I'd applied at the University of Pennsylvania as well, kind of in panic, although I had only a slightly better shot there than at MIT or Columbia. I'd probably end up going to CUNY, and there was plenty of money for that.

"That's quite generous," she said. 'Was that decided before the incident?" Bucky looked at her in exasperation and Sigurd barked sharply.

"Yes," I said crisply. "Alfred said the award letters hadn't gone out because Mr Wayne hadn't signed them until this morning. Alfred has integrity, I don't think he'd lie about it."

"I didn't mean to imply that there was anything untoward," she started to say.

I held out my phone. "On the Wayne Foundation website, it says that this is the top award. I didn't expect to get it, but he didn't try to pay me for helping his son. Look it up."

"I'm sorry," she said, and paused. "I didn't mean to imply that you didn't deserve it." Sigurd flopped over, as if in disbelief. A timer dinged in the kitchen. Saved by the bell.

We sat at the table; there was a crisp spinach salad and beef stroganoff over noodles. "It's delicious," I said, and settled in to eat. It was a little awkward and Bucky and Emma caught up with their days.

"Oh, sweetie, I almost forgot," Bucky said, and got up, returning with an envelope. "Tasha sent that for you." I opened it and almost fell off my chair. It was a ticket to the Bolshoi Ballet, on tour in America. The ballet was Ivan the Terrible, to music by Prokofiev, Saturday night in two weeks.