Chapter Text
"It's kind of sweet, Master Bruce," Alfred said, slightly misty eyed, "how hard Jason's been practicing."
Bruce checked Alfred's expression for any hints of irony or discomfiture — there were none — before wincing again as another loud strain of infinitesimally off key accordion music wafted through the manor's window; Bruce had perfect pitch, but Alfred was slightly tone deaf, and besides Jason was playing all of Alfred's favorite songs.
Bruce stuck his head out the window and stared down into Jason's eyes, steely eyes which conceded no compromise or surrender, eyes that promised that Jason could and would continue to play for another six hours straight, perhaps even all night, unless Bruce agreed to let him borrow the car.