Separation Anxiety
By Chicago

	Son of Krypton was lonely and worried. There had been no way 
for him to spring to Batman's rescue, trapped as he was beneath one of the 
Wayne Manor sofas. He could only watch helplessly as the Evil One 
dragged his screaming partner out the door. 
	Robin had tried to help, but the Boy Wonder had no way of 
knowing that Batman's Most Heinous Enemy had _deliberately_ waylaid 
and hidden the Man of Tomorrow. It had been a simple and effective plan 
to break up the World's Finest, an appropriate evil to be expected from the 
Archfiend. 
	Only Alfred had suspected the foul play involved when he finally 
found and rescued Son of Krypton. 
	"No wonder Master Bert was so upset," the old man had mused, 
turning the stuffed gator in his hands. He had studied the worn face of the 
beloved toy for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face. 
Then he had set Son of Krypton on his present perch, a velvet cushioned 
Queen Anne bench in the Wayne Manor foyer. Son of Krypton had been 
watching the front entrance fruitlessly ever since, and still there was no 
sign of Batman. 
	There had, of course, been other activity in the Manor. Well, not 
in the past several hours since the sun had set and Alfred had found Son of 
Krypton, but before that, Robin had made a convincing show of needing to 
meet with Mr. Wayne about Wayne Enterprises business. That was how 
he had avoided Batman's fate - dragged away by the Most Heinous Enemy 
to The Dinner Party. Son of Krypton was sure that Robin had been 
plotting with Mr. Wayne to rescue Batman from this Situation Most Foul, 
but now he worried that the would-be rescuers had also become ensnared. 
His fears seemed warranted when four distinct bongs sounded from a 
distant clock and Mr. Wayne's voice filtered up to Son of Krypton's 
straining ears. Alfred was talking, too, but there was no sound from Robin. 
The voices trailed away up the stairs, and Robin's footfall could not be 
heard. 
	The Man of Tomorrow felt a flutter of panic. Both Batman and 
Robin, waylaid by the Evil One? Mr. Wayne wearily to bed? No sign of 
Batgirl. An ally was needed, but as the Son of Krypton continued to stare 
at the front entrance, only darkness answered his gaze. 

 
	If he had eyelids, he surely would have blinked at the sunrise. 
Instead he merely continued his lonely vigil. Could Batman have forgotten 
about his faithful partner? Had the Archfiend persuaded Batman and 
Robin to abandon - no, such thinking was self-defeating! Son of Krypton 
refused to give up hope. And there - above! Voices. Mr. Wayne had 
awakened! 
	Surely he would call for Robin, and the Man of Steel would be 
rejoined to the Caped Crusader. With renewed hope, he listened to the 
conversation drifting toward him. 
	"I've slept enough, Alfred. Every hour lost is more time that 
Zsazs has to extend his rampage." 
	"And surely supervillains don't sleep at all." 
	"I'm not in the mood for this, Alfred. Is Dick still planning on 
coming tonight?" 
	"I believe Master Dick was planning on enjoying dinner with 
Master Bruce, yes." 
	"I'm not controlling this schedule, Alfred. I could use Nightwing's 
help - what is this?" 
	Mr. Wayne, clad in pajama bottoms and a silk robe, entered the 
foyer with Alfred in tow. Son of Krypton felt his eyes on him. 
	"What's what, sir?" 
	The Man of Tomorrow watched Mr. Wayne cross the remaining 
distancebetween them and felt his strong hand lift him. "This." 
	"Ah. That would be Master Bert's Gator, Master Bruce. I believe 
Mr. Drake was hoping he could separate the boy from it for a day or two. I 
found it under one of the sofas in the main hall. I wanted it to be where 
Master Bert would see it as soon as he comes back through that door." 
	"Separate the boy - Bert's what? Two?" 
	"Two and a bit, sir." 
	Mr. Wayne met Son of Krypton's eyes. "What is Jack's problem? 
It's just a toy." 
	"With all due respect, sir, I should think you would be wise to 
refrain from questioning another man's parenting style." 
	Mr. Wayne broke eye contact with Son of Krypton to stare at his 
valet. The Man of Tomorrow winced at the way the Mr. Wayne's grip 
tightened, but it was okay. He knew this kind of hold - it signaled a job 
for Superman! 
	Son of Krypton fixed his grin more broadly and winningly on his 
face, waiting for the inevitable return of Mr. Wayne's eye contact. Mr. 
Wayne did not fail him. He was much like that lovely man - Dick - who 
had visited the World's Finest earlier this year. So sad. Perhaps it was fate 
rather than disaster that had left Son of Krypton here where he was so 
clearly needed. Or a cunning plan by Batman. The Dark Knight was truly 
wise in ways Superman could only begin to fathom. 
	Mr. Wayne's gaze was thoughtful, but there was a hint of sting in 
his eyes from Alfred's words. Son of Krypton met his stare evenly, 
comfortingly. He watched some sort of dam break in Mr. Wayne's eyes - 
not that the man would ever cry, but more that he felt a sudden recognition 
of a loss. The tight hold loosened, became gentle, and Son of Krypton felt 
himself lowered back to the velvet cushion where he had spent the night. 
Mr. Wayne shifted him so he was once again facing the door. 
	"Sir?" 
	"I forgot something upstairs." 
	As Mr. Wayne left the room, the Man of Steel felt himself in 
Alfred's gaze. "Wonder what that's about?" the old man mused. 
He did not have to wait long for an answer. Mr. Wayne returned to 
the foyer, something in his hands. Son of Krypton watched, trying to make 
sense of the grey dressed in faded multicolored finery. 
	Mr. Wayne again approached Superman's perch. Now Son of 
Krypton could see clearly what he held in his hands. She was an elephant, 
many times the age of the Man of Tomorrow. She bore herself with 
dignity despite her threadbare hide, and she settled easily on the cushion 
beside Son of Krypton. 
	"Dick's still coming for dinner, right, Alfred?" 
	"Yes he is, sir." 
	"Good. I want Elinore to be the first thing he sees when he gets 
home." 
	"Very good, sir." 
	Mr. Wayne and Alfred left the foyer, and Son of Krypton and his 
new companion resumed their vigil. 
 
-fin-


Note:  Elinore the Stuffed Elephant belongs to the wonderful Syl Francis, to whom we owe great thanks for her kindness and inspiration.  :)