Part Two

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Alan awoke to the alluring aroma of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. He dreamt of his mother the other night – not the version of her that stepped through the doors of Wayne Manor last evening, but her original self instead. He couldn't recall the last time that happened since staying in Gotham with Erica. Had he missed her more than he realized? From the scent of her breakfast, that would seem to be the case.

But the aroma just wasn't in his head; he actually smelled eggs, bacon, and pancakes. It got him up out of bed, which he saw only one side slept in. The other was barely touched, meaning Erica had not come home overnight. That was enough to rack his nerves.

Having time to wash up and get dressed, he left the master bedroom for the kitchen. He expected to find Alfred there, making the breakfast; but the way it was made reminded him too much of his mother.

And then he saw her – Suri, wearing nothing but white socks and a hot pink shirt that covered her entire body. Whether she was naked or not underneath, Alan opted not to guess. To any other man, she was a beautiful young woman swaying her hips and buttocks to the tune of Tina Turner's "Good to Me," but she was his mother...another variation of her, at least.

            He interrupted her lip-syncing into the ladle (her microphone), which still had the pancake mix on it, turning the music down on the stereo and asking, "Did you see Erica come in last night?"

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He interrupted her lip-syncing into the ladle (her microphone), which still had the pancake mix on it, turning the music down on the stereo and asking, "Did you see Erica come in last night?"

Suri just looked at him derisively. "And Merry Christmas to you, dear."

Forgetting what day it was when he woke, Alan lowered his head in shame. "Sorry, Ma," he muttered. "Merry Christmas."

With an understanding nod, Suri answered his previous inquiry, "I didn't see her come in, either last night or this morning. But I'm sure the case she's working on with Batman and Commissioner Gordon is bigger than they imagined."

"Who's Batman?" a voice asked through a mouthful of food.

Alan didn't even notice Goku and the Minions seated at the breakfast table, which had been set with cutlery, napkins, and plates. Goku gorged on a gigantic stack of pancakes that were banana-flavored, just as Kevin, Stuart, and Bob liked them. "Damn, man," Alan said of the Saiyan. "Ya got e'nuff there?"

"Are you kidding?!" Goku gulped the bits of pancake stuffed in his mouth. "I'm on my nineteenth serving!"

Alan's jaw dropped at that number. He glimpsed over at Suri, who smirked as she poured the pancake mix into the skillet. "Alfred tried his best to keep up with Goku's appetite," she told Alan. "Poor dear gave up after the fifth serving. He's back in bed now."

Alan understood completely, yet that didn't remove his awe of Goku's appetite.

He sat with him and the Minions at the table, right where some orange juice, coffee, and a newspaper were also set. "Did you put all this here for me?" he asked Suri.

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