Work Text:
"Comes the autumn,
As summer's sun fades
Into mellow yellow.
The nights are cooler,
The days are crisp,
Like a will-o'-the-wisp.
The leaves turn,
The ocean churns,
The colors burst
All over the earth.
Mellow Yellow,
Autumn-Yellow."
Daisy Donovan
"Autumn-Yellow"
Moby Grape Records
1966 C.E.
Autumn was coming.
Bruce could feel it in his bones as he walked the Manor grounds, dressed comfortably in jeans, a white cashmere sweater, and lightweight blue jacket. His sneakers were new. He never wore jeans and sneakers out in public, as they didn't fit the Brucie image. Today, though, he wanted comfort.
After patrol he would sleep for a few hours in the wee hours of the morning, awaken briefly, and then return to sleep until mid-morning. Fortunately Dick had youthful energy, so getting up to go to school was not a problem for him after a long night's patrol. School would be starting soon.
Summer was ending. Technically, it had another three weeks to go until the Autumn Equinox in September, but Bruce could feel the difference around five o'clock in the morning before sleep claimed him again. There was a stillness in that hour that suggested the earth was preparing to indulge the darker half of the year. He liked that.
Soon the trees here at the Manor would turn, giving them a glorious show. The sunlight was already starting to change from glaring-bright to buttery-yellow.
Alfred and Dick were harvesting the vegetable garden this morning. There were still cherry tomatoes, corn-on-the-cob, and zucchini (always zucchini!). Alfred also kept a garden that grew plants like feverfew and other medicinal plants that helped him patch up his charges.
He felt a rush of air and smiled. Clark was by his side, also dressed in jeans and sneakers with a blue shirt and pullover red sweater. He adjusted his glasses. Since Clark wore them even in the presence of people who knew he was Superman, Bruce had concluded that they were a comfort item, much like a child with a teddy bear.
"It's getting cooler," Clark remarked.
"Autumn's coming."
"Yes, I'll be going home tomorrow to help with the harvest."
"Corn and wheat and all those good things?"
"Uh huh." Clark kicked at a stray leaf on the ground. "Pumpkins will be growing big and fat."
"Apple picking?"
"Some. The apples will be ripening in September and October for sure."
Bruce waved his hand. "You can have as many apples as you want here once they're ripe."
The apple orchard was several acres away. Bruce headed that way and Clark came along.
"Despite Dick being associated with spring, he loves this time of year. Even his costume reflects it: green, red and yellow. If he could stick orange in there, he would."
Clark smiled with fondness in his eyes. "Dick enjoys life."
Bruce agreed.
They walked in comfortable silence, Clark finally speaking as the apple trees came into view.
"I can feel the change of the seasons."
Bruce looked at him with interest. "How so?"
"Oh, the smells of the earth as leaves start to land on the soil, for one thing. It's a rich smell that indicates the earth is preparing for winter."
"Interesting."
Clark smiled. "I don't think you need super-senses to observe the change of seasons, though. Can't you just feel it?" A flock of geese winged their way overhead, honking loudly. "See? In this case you can hear it."
"Hmm." Bruce pretended deep contemplation. "So human senses can do the job?"
"Pretty much."
"Know what my human senses are telling me right now?"
"What?"
Bruce plucked an apple from the nearest tree as they reached the orchard and offered it to his companion. "That you're very tempting."
Clark's unearthly blue eyes sparkled as he regarded the apple. White teeth worthy of a model gleamed as he smiled. He took the apple and bit into it, exposing its white flesh.
"Hmm, a little tart, but that's okay, I like some tartness."
"In your apples?"
"Among other things."
Clark enjoyed the apple, tossing the core away when it was finished. He regarded Bruce coolly, taking a page from his lover. Bruce seemed amused. He traced Clark's jaw with his finger. Clark playfully took his finger into his mouth and sucked gently while Bruce's eyes glazed over. A soft breeze blew through the orchard, sea-tinged and mixed with with the scent of apples as Clark drew Bruce close to him.
& & &
"The pumpkins are starting," Dick said cheerfully as he picked cherry tomatoes, popping one in his mouth.
"Quite so," said Alfred as they worked in the garden.
"And the zucchini goes on forever!"
"Very much so." Alfred's voice held a tinge of amusement.
"You've already frozen buckets of tomatoes. Guess we'll have plenty of tomato sauce!"
"I expect we shall, Master Dick." Alfred patiently pulled a pesky weed.
Dick picked the last ears of corn. "Maybe Clark would like some help with his family's harvest. They have acres of corn!"
"Undoubtedly." Alfred adjusted his straw hat. One must be properly attired, even for gardening. Or mayhaps, especially for gardening.
Dick placed the ears of corn in a basket. He was ready to start harvesting zucchini when Bruce and Clark emerged from the woods and approached the kitchen garden.
"Hey, Clark!" Dick waved.
"Hi, Dick!" Clark waved back. He was always pleased to see this bright boy, who also happened to be his No. 1 fan, much to Bruce's consternation. "I see you're harvesting."
"Yep! How about you? Your family bringing in the harvest?"
"Yes. In fact, I'm going to help out tomorrow."
"Can I go?" Dick asked, using puppy-dog eyes on Bruce, who rolled his eyes.
"You 'may'."
"Yes!" Dick promptly performed a cartwheel. Clark laughed and Alfred smiled. Bruce pretended exasperation.
He pointed to Clark. "You are a bad influence on him. All this bubbly effervescence isn't appropriate for the partner of the Batman."
Clark waved his hand airily as Bruce had done earlier. "Oh, Gotham could use some bubble."
"And squeak!" Dick said saucily. "Right, Alfred?"
"Quite so, Master Dick. A fine English dish." Bruce snorted. "Are you mocking my nation's cuisine, sir?"
"I am if it's bubble and squeak!"
"Tsk, tsk." Alfred shook his head. Clark and Dick did the same. Bruce knew when he was outnumbered and sighed.
Dick resumed zucchini picking and Clark joined in.
"The baby pumpkins are growing fine." He looked over at his lover. "C'mon, Bruce, get your hands dirty," said the farmers' son.
Bruce sniffed. "The Lord of the Manor stays neat and clean."
"Oh, yeah?" Dick asked cheekily and leaped up, plucking a golden leaf from Bruce's hair. "Hmm, I wonder how this got in you hair?" He eyed Bruce's clothing. "And the rumpled shirt?"
Bruce had the grace to blush as Clark and Dick laughed. Caught!
"Peasants," Bruce said, using his best haughty sniff as he strode toward the kitchen door.
Fond laughter filled the air as he disappeared inside.