Gotham Imagines and One Shots

Dear Miss Wayne - Part 1 - Alfred x Reader

This is my first ever offering for Alfred. Hope that you enjoy.

Alfred made his way to the library of Wayne Manor. He had made sure that Bruce was settled in his room, now his last job for the evening was to check on Thomas' younger sister, (Y/n). The younger of the two Wayne siblings, choosing to stay and help Alfred look after Bruce after the funeral.

Quietly, he pushed his way through the door. The usually quiet and calm butler feeling his heart beat faster as he saw (Y/n) sit by the fire. A large book on her lap as she stared into the dancing flames. He would, could never admit it, but he had had feelings for (Y/n) for some time. The younger woman often coming to stay with her brother and Martha, since he had begun to work for the Wayne family.

Alfred always found that she had a knack of making him smile, despite himself. And when her brother was away from the manor, (Y/n) would often join him in the kitchen for a cup of Earl Grey tea. Always telling the butler that no one could make tea quite like he could. The pair talking about his past life in the Special Air Service, or anything else, until he got a call for his assistance. The two leaving the kitchen together but always taking different paths. Alfred off to do his duties, and (Y/n) usually off to see what little Bruce was up to.

Some time ago, Alfred had written (Y/n) a letter. A letter that told her all about how he felt for her. How he loved her despite the fact that he was sure that they would never be able to be together. That he would give anything to take her into his arms, even just once, and kiss her. He had never delivered it of course, how could he? She was a Wayne. His employers much loved little sister. The former soldier sure that Thomas, no matter how well he treated him, would never agree to Alfred taking his sister's hand.

Alfred had of course kept the letter. The small piece of paper folded neatly and placed in his waistcoat pocket. A pocket that his fingers would instantly find their way to, whenever he so much as thought about (Y/n). The page of paper, now a little tattered and torn. Creased and dogeared from how many times he had taken it out and read it. Not that he needed to read it. He knew it word for word. Sometimes even seeing it in his sleep. Yet he would never part with it. And even though he knew that she would never read it, he still hoped that one day, she would.

"You know, I find great solace in the written word. Whenever I feel stressed, upset, down, I pick up a book and lose myself in every line. Every paragraph. And when I do, nothing ever seems as bad. Perhaps that is why I have always loved books. There is something quite interesting about reading the thoughts, dreams, and memories of others. I have always believed that there is a touch of the divine in the written word. Always amazed by how mere squiggles on a page, can instil happiness, fear, pleasure, and hope in so many others. How they can help people to see that there are a million possibilities out there. Thousands of worlds and lives. And that it is only our bodies that are bound to the earth. The reach of our hearts and souls only limited by our own imaginations. And at this moment, I find I need my books more than ever." (Y/n) sighed as she closed the book and laid it on the small table next to her chair.

"Is Bruce alright?" (Y/n) continued, finally turning her attention from the fire, to the smartly dressed man that stood just in the doorway.

"Yes. Master Bruce is fine. I have just come to see if you need anything, before I retire for the evening, Miss Wayne." Alfred replied. The butler swallowing at the large lump that had suddenly formed in his throat as (Y/n) smiled at him.

"Yes Alfred, I would like something. Firstly, I would like you to stop calling me, Miss Wayne. I have asked you so many times to just call me (Y/n). And secondly, I would like you to pour two glasses of good scotch and come and join me. It has been so long since we have been able to sit down together. And I do so miss our conversations. That's if you would like to join me." (Y/n) told him. Doing her best to hold back the blush from her cheeks as Alfred nodded, and made his way over to where the decanters of liquor sat on the sideboard.

(Y/n) couldn't help but smile as she watched him pour the drinks. Despite his rather crisp and formal exterior, she knew that Alfred could actually be quite funny when he let down his guard. The butler always laughing at her when she had tried to copy his accent. And she also couldn't help but think that there was something quite handsome about the Englishman. (Y/n) sure that from the first moment that she had met him, she had found herself drawn to him. Doing her best to spend as much time with him as she could, when her brother and sister in law were busy. Happily listening, as he told her all about his past life.

When Thomas and Martha had been killed, she had decided to stay in the Manor, so that she could help out with the family business, and Bruce. But what she hadn't told anyone, was that she to was staying so that she could once again be close to Alfred. Hoping that now, she would be able to summon up the courage to tell him how she felt.

"Thank you." (Y/n) said, as she took the glass from Alfred's hand. (Y/n) unable to stop herself from smiling as he stood next to the seat across from her. His eyes looking down into the liquid in the tumbler.

"For goodness sake, Alfred. Its me. Will you stop standing to attention. I'm not your commanding officer, or your employer. As far as I am concerned, you are not a butler. You are my friend. And as such, I would like you to join me. So, take off your damn tie. Unbutton your jacket. Take a seat and talk to me." (Y/n) told him. Shaking her head and chuckling softly as the butler finally conceded to her request. Alfred loosening his clothing as he dropped down into the old armchair. A heavy sigh leaving his lips as he took a drink of the smooth brown liquor.

"That's better. You can save that stiff upper lip. Upstairs, downstairs rubbish for everyone else. With me, I prefer that you are just plain old Alfred Pennyworth. My friend. A friend that I really need at the moment. (Y/n) added, as she reached across the gap between them and took his hand. Alfred finally looking at her and smiling, as he felt her soft fingers creep into his palm. His own fingers tightening around hers. His heart hoping that he would never have to let her go again.

"Now. Talk. Just like we used to do in the kitchen when you made me tea. Perhaps you could even teach me some more of that rhyming slag. I have been practicing your accent, and I think that I might just impress you this time." (Y/n) giggle. Her heart sighing happily, as Alfred let down his guard and began to talk.