Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: One-shots about Bruce and Richard.
Saturday Morning Routine
It was 0600 in Gotham on a cold Saturday morning. The Batmobile had just pulled into the Batcave after a long night of chasing Joker around the city. What should have taken less than two hours had taken over ten. Joker had been surprisingly lucid and difficult to contain as he tried to kill half the city with his new toy.
Batman was bruised, cut and bleeding, not to mention in a foul mood. The suit had been modified to help protect him better, but even Lucius in all his wisdom couldn't make kelvar criminal-proof. That didn't matter now; it was all over for the moment. Arkham had the Clown Prince of Crime back in his cell and daylight had singled his relief. The Gotham PD could handle things during the day. With great effort, the Dark Knight hauled himself out of the driver's seat.
Pulling off what was left of his favorite batsuit as he made his way towards the showers, Bruce groaned. "Rough night, sir?" Alfred appeared as usual from no where. Nodding because it would take too much energy to speak, Bruce swapped the black mass in his hands for the clean towels his butler was offering. He needed a shower, he could smell himself. He needed a better attitude, it was Saturday and he had plans.
With the water on as hot as it would go, Bruce scrubbed himself clean. The water rejuvenated him. As the grime circled the drain, he felt the weight of the night melt from his weary muscles. His head was pounding, but breakfast would fix that. In precisely fourteen minutes, he emerged from the bathroom, clean and dressed as Bruce Wayne ready for a Saturday morning at Wayne Manor.
By the time he stepped into the kitchen, Alfred had already plated two stacks of pancakes, one with only syrup and another in the shape of Mickey Mouse's head with berries, whip cream and syrup. As Bruce took his first sip of coffee, eight year-old Richard came bouncing in the room with his Buzz Lightyear pajamas on. He grinned as he politely took his place at the table and dug into his breakfast with gusto. They ate in companionable silence, Richard did have manners after all and knew that speaking this early in the morning would make his Dad's headache even worse. Bruce read the paper and slowly ate his pancakes. With each bite his pounding head dulled and with wide smiles from Richard they evaporated like fog in the sun. Alfred sat down with his own plate reading the sections as Bruce finished. When Richard's plate was empty and in the sink, he took the comic page and read through his favorite ones.
Richard managed to still until Bruce closed the paper, signaling he was finished with breakfast. It seemed to the youngster that every week he stretched the time he had to wait further. With a nod from Bruce and with speed to rival Flash, Richard raced into the den. By the time his adopted father joined him the television and surround sound were on and Bugs Bunny was torturing Daffy Duck. Bruce took his seat and within seconds, Richard was climbing into his lap and Bruce was wrapping his arms around the boy.
That was their Saturday morning routine. Richard would watch cartoons for most of the morning while Bruce held him close and napped. They both got what they wanted. Richard got cartoons and comfort while Bruce got to sleep knowing Richard was safe and happy.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed!
Let me know what you think and if I should continue