A/N:
This is just a bunch of side aligned stories to the original- Good Day Gotham! If you like it please read the original story to really get the rest of it!~ I hope you enjoy! Lots of cute flashbacks and moments in here.

/Raising Richard Wayne.\\\

Richard had been Bruce's first child. In fact he was really more of a inscrutable bundle of joy. Too Bruce who had never exactly expected the day Selina, still in surprisingly good shape for being so round, would announce her pregnancy to him. November, 11, 1983. He remembered the day to that very moment as he sat back in his study inhaling the steam rising from the cup of tea Alfred had made. November, 11, 1983 at precisely 1am did he receive the call from the hospital. Selina had never been comfortable moving with him, not even then with the child. He'd had given anything to make her feel more at ease about it if for the kid's sake. Unfortunately it wasn't really ever within his control when it came to Selina.

"You must hurry Mr. Wayne. She's close, we may not be able to postpone the birth for your arrival." He recalled firmly ordering the doctor not to postpone anything, obviously children were like crime they occurred on their own time. "Alfred-" his coat was held out to him from the back and pulled on in a flash. "The car is already downstairs, Master Bruce." Alfred informed. Bruce turned back to him and nodded to his oldest most trustworthy friend. He wished Alfred could follow suit but he would probably prefer to stay in his place at the manor. "Be safe, Master Bruce." Alfred smiled clearly well suited for the lasting support he always gave. "Thank you, Alfred."

Although it took him well over 20 minutes to clear through traffic to make it to Gotham Memorial it hardly mattered by the time he got to the delivery center. Many looked in his direction in confusion. Some even pointed and whispered, "Is Mr. Wayne here to take stock in the hospital too?" If only. With each step Bruce could feel his heart rising up out of his chest into his throat. His stomach squirmed and the world seemed to be just a bit to fast stirring and spinning around him as doctors rushed to and fro delivering and saving lives. He knew just down a hall near where he stood, up a few floors maybe were few men and old women who were dying in their beds...but it was hard to focus on that as he neared the large window pane with which tons of tiny cribs were laid out. Tons of wiggling toes, fingers reaching out just barely able to recognize their movements as well as eyes so small and unable to fully widen to take in the world they entered.

Bruce Wayne, Gotham's finest most strongest man of both brute and collected mind now had to grasp for the nearby wall of the window so he could stand. A nurse patiently entered just within the room beyond the window and lowered a small bundle wrapped in blue from her arms into one of the many small cribs. The only thing different, the only thing that made that one particular crib more precious then the others were the words 'Wayne' sketched perfectly out along the edge of the crib. Bruce had to peer a bit closer to better spot that the name 'Kyle' was squeezed in just a bit beside his own at the bottom.

Perhaps Selina even through contractions and fury had insisted...it wasn't unheard of. Bruce glanced around at all the other kids instantly taking in their small trembling bodies...somehow as he looked back at his son's did he really think that his own brood was better. Somehow amongst all these similar babies, his newborn was far surpassing. A father's pride was like that too, right? "Mr. Wayne..." he turned to the nurse who bowed delicatly to him, wringing her hands out in front of her, "She is ready...to see you..." he nodded back feeling that same feeling, the falling drop from his throat back to his stomach like he'd just hit the final stretch of a rollercoaster. Not that Bruce road roller coasters, far to unseemly.

She led the way then away from the window which Bruce took one long last look at his crib and little one, to ensure it was still there before approaching the nurse's form before a door not to far from there. The simple pastel colors and lightly drawn on teddy bears on each wall really didn't match Selina's usual form of scenery especially as now she lay out on the bed by the far corner of the room, near another window with drawn blinds. "Do-don't come in...I look a mess." Bruce stood in the doorway for a second nodding to the nurse to ask about how much she'd been medicated. He assumed she'd need rest and yet was uncertain how close to get now. Selina had done him more then he could possibly ever repay her for...then again she'd always been the alley cat he'd prowled after for ages as the rich high society son he was. Bruce closed his eyes and tried to just take in the moment then...

Lois and Clark were just celebrating their 6th anniversary. They'd been together far longer and he was the one with the kid. Even Diana and Oliver were well with similar problems in their relationship with Queen Industries and the need for a heir but he knew he was really riding ahead of the curve here. But...as he looked back up at the bed, At Selina's tired but fathom ably pensive smile, deep brown eyes seeing things far beyond him and maybe just everything within him. Bruce had to think their was no one else then, no one in the whole world he'd rather go through this life with then Selina Kyle...Selina Kyle-Wayne.

His tea was cold. Bruce quickly put it down and glanced over at the crackling fire of his study with the clatter of the saucer and cup. The carpets trimmed finely with pensive ebony and gold bindings. The decor is dark, sullen but it suits him fine. Although this room really stayed the same no matter what, his large bookcases that reached up to the ceiling. Elegant and meandering gargoyles atop the columns in each corner. Their fangs extended out as they protected the man of this room even from their stone imprisoned position. "What was it...where was it..." the next memory he had of Richard then, when he'd begun walking.

"Take him, Bruce. Take him." snapped Selina slamming the door behind her in frustration. Bruce didn't take Richard then, Alfred picked up the eager child who had been clambering after his mother, hands out to be picked up. Selina refastened the bow of her raincoat and properly tucked her dark strands of hair behind her right ear, "I'm off." "For a job?" he eyed her carefully as she glared back across at him. Her eyes were no longer the lovely patient pretty hue they'd been in the hospital November, 11. In fact Bruce hardly recognized her between how much she was out now and how much of her long hair she'd cut off. "It's work, Bruce."

"You can be here." he'd had this conversation a million times with her, there lives didn't have to be so complicated. He'd work, the money would be there it would be simple.

"Right, I'll stay home play house cat." she turns back to unlock the door she's just slammed and then looks at Alfred in a hurry, "He needs changing, Alfred. I really am late."

"I've got it under control Ms. Kyle." Alfred didn't have to call her 'Wayne' because they'd never married. Bruce shook out his newspaper in front of him and felt his lips linger up in that distressing grimace he wore whenever she was like this. The 'jobs' Selina took on were what she'd done in the past. Questionable if not at times illegal. He knew she'd never sink so low to things like prostitution- no, Selina had to much self respect but her desire for her own way and her own purpose was so strong.

It had been what had attracted him originally. Like a moth to a flame.

"I'll be back by dinner." she's quick then like a designated dance, one leg one arm twitch- the doors open and the rest of her is out the door in a blink of a eye and one of Richard's sweet little giggles. He taps Alfred's chin curiously now, legs wobbling along below as he wants to walk again. "Let him go." Bruce says and Alfred can only obey patiently putting the boy back down.

"He does need changing, Master Bruce-"

"I don't hear him crying do you?" Bruce turns the final page of the newspaper over, the last column on the high crime rate in Gotham by Vicki Vale. If only things weren't so similar, his father's dead still an inescapable memory before him. Dick toddles forward, feet moving faster then the rest of him can really keep up with. Arms up and over his head as he stares up at Bruce with the widest most pair of cobalt blue eyes. Their one of the only things Bruce really sees from himself in the boy. Richard is too soft in expression like his mother, his hair is even to thin to be like Bruce's thick brand. Richard stops walking, pauses misstep and Bruce knows what happens next. The balance is lost and Richard falls back onto his butt with a thwack. Then comes the wailing...uselessly, there is no mother to cradle him. Bruce gets up off the couch and picks up his son. "Master Bruce, I will change-"

"He's my son, Alfred." Bruce counters, now if only he'd just let Alfred do as he'd suggested, his last memory of then would be more pleasant and not lost amidst diapers and wipes.

Bruce closes his eyes quickly the study returning in full around him as the ugly memory is shunned away. He presses his finger to his nose and really tries to consider why he was thinking about all of this again.

"Ahhh, that was right." he looked down at the newspaper now open beside the saucer and teacup. The article is wide open as it's clear Victoria Vale is calling him out for a interview on his family and social life. She wants the details and all to better protect his family's image. If he doesn't prepare the proper descriptions of his sons this is sure to be a ugly setting. The 'evidence' she claims to have will be used to bring Wayne Corporation crashing must practice this interview now, in the empty study as the moon looms outside over Gotham and Wayne Manor sits in dead unending silence. He must speak of the past, honestly and more eloquently then he really feels capable.

"My son, Richard...my son Richard is..."