[ the whole time that alfred is working, charles is recounting the events of the rest of the night - his kitchen misadventure that led to the boiler room discovery, and the manual he'd had to find, the slight detour to get a drink of port because of course, and then the confusion regarding the levers and the knobs and oh, it's a lot of noise, it must be such hard work to maintain all of this daily— and the horrible part is charles means everything sincerely. all too genuinely.

were he not a telepath with an obscene amount of money at his disposal, he likely would be dead from a stupendously ridiculous misunderstanding.

he lets go, and very carefully, hooting in triumph when alfred succeeds where he has failed in fixing things. ]

You are a miracle worker, my good sir, this is wonderful! Thank you, Mister Pennyworth, and on such short notice—

Ah, is the gentleman upstairs alive?