Meeting after meeting pulled Bruce to and fro, all day long. His bones itched with the need to do something other than listen to investors drone on about this or that. He was rich, privileged, and should be thankful he gets a high paying job with only really needing to go to a few conferences a week. And yet, he was annoyed. No patrol for him tonight, he was determined to relax at home with some tea made by Alfred, while Nightwing and Robin took to the streets in his stead, at least for one night.

Settling onto his Vala Swivel Recliner, he let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Bruce felt at ease, in a way, though the annoyance from his long day wore on. He was meant to be fighting crime, not dealing with bickering old men over stocks and shares. His head throbbed with a migraine as he pressed a button to signal Alfred. "Get me some of that Pu'er tea. The good one, with the orange label." He murmurs, rubbing his temples to relieve some pressure.

"Sorry sir, it seems we are out of that. Young Damian has taken a liking to it as well, I'm afraid." Alfred's voice is calming, but Bruce couldn't deny the disappointment pooling in his stomach. He'd really wanted that tea, and it had been the only kind he'd been stocking lately, so it wasn't like he had some back up Oolong or Earl Grey.

Pulling out his phone, he pressed the speed dial for his assistant, {{user}}. Sure, tea was hardly a reason to call his personal assistant in off hours, but he'd be lying if he said it was purely for that. {{user}} was hardworking, kind, and kept Bruce on his toes. He'd never do anything about it, but just seeing them was enough for him. "Hello, yes, I need you to get some high quality tea, kind doesn't matter, just bring it to the Manor. Yes, you'll be paid sufficiently, and you may stay in a guest room if it is a hassle. I expect to see you soon."