5750/For The Billionaire Who Has Everything

For The Billionaire Who Has Everything
Date of Scene:	09 November 2018
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Jubilee

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Batman has posed:
    Since their relationship began rather unconventionally a few weeks prior, Bruce has had a little trouble taking time out of his schedule to see Jubilee and keep it alive. It had been much easier with past relationships, as he usually simply let them fizzle out and returned his focus to being Batman. But this is different, and he's determined to put in the effort as much as he can. So, after a little scheduling, he's arranged a late afternoon rendezvous at Wayne Manor with just the pair of them.
    At present, Bruce stands in the kitchen looking warily at the stove. He admittedly doesn't cook all that often, but an off-handed joke about preparing dinner himself has turned into him /actually/ preparing dinner. Go figure.

Jubilee has posed:
Jubilee looks from Bruce to the oven, and back again, then crouches to look in the little window. "Whaddya suppose is in there?" she asks. She's still not convinced that Bruce even put it in there himself "It smells like....like food. But I'm unconvinced. Whaddya say, should we storm it?"

Batman has posed:
    "Hey, we're not all super-heroes," Bruce answers, dipping slightly to peer in through the tiny window also, "I wouldn't be so game to come face to face with Wayne cooking. It's /meant/ to be beef bourguignon. Alfred did the proper cooking," he admits this a little sheepishly, "And said to let it sit in there for a while."

Jubilee has posed:
Jubilee arches a brow. "A while?" Then it furrows. "How long is a while? On a scale from Mooing to your toasted marshmallow, how done is this thing?" She shrugs. "Well, at least if it catches on fire we can roast more marshmallows.

Batman has posed:
    "I think it hits about a 'let's get this thing out of there now'," Bruce opens the oven, a bit of steam but (thankfully) no smoke pluming upwards. He wraps his hands in a pair of oven mitts and pulls the braising dish out, lifting it up and settling it on the stovetop. He glances sideways at Jubilee for a moment, his hand poised over the closed lid of the dish: "Want to take odds?"

Jubilee has posed:
"I bet it's just fiiiiine," Jubilee says, but her tone says /I dunno bout this, Boss.../. She stands on her toes, trying to get a good look at whatever Bruce is cooking. Because she's pretty sure she's never even heard of beef bourguignon, except maybe on an old rerun of "Three's Company." She clears her throat nervously. "Sooo...what goes into this stuff?"

Batman has posed:
    "Beef," Bruce answers quickly, as though he has all the answers, before taking pause, "And, uh, bourguignon? Let me check."
    He moves over to a shelf and pulls down a very old but particularly well-cared for notebook. He flicks through it for a moment, reading the contents with a furrowed brow: "Red wine. Onions. Mushrooms. Something called 'bouquet garni' which I think means I'm meant to sprinkle green stuff on it to make it look nice." He sighs and glances down at Jubilee, "Please don't tell me I'm going to have to cook every time I want to see you."

Jubilee has posed:
"Yep! Them's the rules. I didn't make 'em!" She grins, watching him, and sniffs delicately at the dish. "Well, it hasn't collapsed yet. That's what always happens when they take fancy dishes out of the oven on sitcoms. They collapse. Deflate. Like Brady's balls. And that one time on Christmas Vacation."

Batman has posed:
    Bruce peers at the dish critically: "Well, it better not collapse. I'm not sure how a stew collapses but it damn well better not." He leaves it on the stove for a moment, moving over to pluck a spoon from one of the nearby drawers. Then, without warning, he dips to scoop Jubilee up in the crook of his arm like she weighs nothing and takes a spoonful from the dish: "You get first taste test."

Jubilee has posed:
"Whoa, cowboy. You gonna force feed me or somethin'?" Jubilee giggles. "Are you going to sweep me up this way everytime I eat somethin' you made?" She winks, as she chides his earlier question. "Well, then, I better get busy tastin'. Y'know...I just became that guy that tastes your food to make sure it's not poisoned. Is this how you get that job?"

Batman has posed:
    "Them's the rules," Bruce copies her with a grin, "I didn't make 'em." He keeps her on the crook of his arm as he brings a small bite of their dinner up for her to try: "Well, no. I mean, I made this myself and I'm not trying to poison /myself/. At least I don't think I am, anyway." He pauses for a moment, regarding her being carried as she is: "You know, I think I like carrying you around."
    In a single motion he slings her over his shoulder and marches out of the kitchen, parading in wide circles around the ornate dining room set up for the pair of them even though it can seat dozens. No real destination in mind, simply carrying her in circles.

Jubilee has posed:
Jubilee giggles and squirms and tries to get down, but she finds Bruce surprisingly strong. "What do you do, work out like 3 times a day? It's like you've got super powers or somethin'!" She squeals as another of her attempts at getting down is thwarted, and she grunts. "I bet you're really Superman under there. Or...over there. Or whatever there you are."

Batman has posed:
    "Three times a day?" Bruce says in mock admonishment, "Those are /amateur/ numbers, Miss Lee."
    When she wriggles again, he obediently sets her down and pulls out two chairs from the dining room table for them to sit. For a moment, the joking demeanor has washed away and he looks again like the grim and thoughtful man from that evening by the fire pit. As though there is something on his mind he would share, but knows he cannot and would never admit to. When he speaks again, it is in a quiet voice: "I'm glad you're here."