Bruce was, to say the least, exhausted. Batman had gone through two drug busts, one resulting in a full on gang war as well as fighting the masked vigilante. It should have been simple, but with the two being barely an hour apart and on completely opposite sides of Gotham, Batman had been grumpier then usual when dealing with the criminals. That was it, the night was quiet. Batman was sure he would be home in time to get a few hours of sleep before he had to catch his plane for Japan in the morning.

That's when the boy scout decided to call.

Batman's escaped bank robber from the previous night had high jacked to Metropolis. Usually Batman would never allow any criminal of Gotham a chance to run into any other city but his own, but Joker had efficiently decided to break out of Arkham the same night, prompting the vigilante to stay put. When he had contacted Gordon he was informed the were tracking the criminal at the very moment, causing Batman to assume his resources could be put to use in other areas. Apparently not.

With the hour it takes to drive to Metropolis while going a good deal higher then the speed limit requirements, and the extra three hours of apprehending the criminal, fighting with Clark and driving back to his own city to return said escaped convict before returning home, Bruce was, to say the least, exhausted.

Alfred had gone to bed long before his homecoming, having called in on his way back that he had sustained no injuries that needed the butler's immediate care.

By the time Bruce had finally changed and made it back upstairs it was already gone five in the morning. He glared silently at the grandfather clock teasing him. Since when had he had a grandfather clock in his bedroom?

Bruce slowly turned his head to take in the furnishings of the main living room. The Victorian styled furnishings had always been a favorite of his mother's. She said they gave the house more character to its almost church like architecture and seven floors of stone and hard wood. Four couches sat empty before a unused fire place, three armchairs of the same fabric were more to the corner beside the window to take in the spring lighting.

Bruce told himself it was time to go up to his own room, not dally in on of the many room sitting in his house. He had a plane to catch in less then four hours, might as well use one of those to sleep. But as soon as the thought of sleep crossed his mind, Bruce felt himself sprawl across one of the couches, squeezing his large figure into an awkward position so as not to fall off.

Not even five minutes later, there was a tapping noise. A tapping noise that, despite Bruce telling himself it's just a tree, Batman's senses became red alert for any sudden warnings of danger.

Another tapping noise; this time louder. Bruce stayed where he was. Silence. Then the tapping noise once more. Then again, but suddenly taking on the characteristics of a soft banging.

Bruce pushed himself upright, glaring at the darkness around him. He slowly made his way out into the main hallway, leading to the main living room, the kitchen, his father's study and the main staircase that lead up to the front door. He waited, listening closely for which direction to head.

For a moment he was sure he'd missed it, and gotten up for no reason; then came the knocking.

The front door.

Now who in the hell would be knocking on the damn door at five in the morning?

Bruce begrudgingly made his way up the stairs, stopping before the wide wooden barricades blocking him from his insisting problem. At the sound of another bang, Bruce threw open the door, mouth ajar to yell at whatever sort of rodent had made its way to his front door.

His eyes met bright blues.

It had been over a year since Bruce had broken off his relationship with Victoria.

After meeting once again at LaFrange's Art Gallery and having drinks together, the girl had somehow squeezed herself into his life. Movies, parties, balls, art shows, vacations to Paris, he gave her the grand tour of the spoiled life. For a year she came for weekly dinners, called him when he went overseas for business, stayed at the hospital when he masqueraded the Batman wounds for a mishap car wreck. For a year, Bruce felt himself relax.

But relaxation distracts, relaxation opens doors for clouded judgments, relaxation leads to happiness, which in turn could lead a path to love, a commitment Bruce knew he wasn't able to give.

It hadn't been easy, it was actually harder then Bruce had thought it to be. Her suspicions might have been why she didn't seem so shocked it ended. He knew she questioned him constantly, even though she never voiced them.

And just like that, Victoria McGreggor had fallen off his radar and out of his world for a year.

"Bruce."

It almost sounded like a sigh of relief, but her voice sounded to heavy to know for a fact.

"Victoria," Bruce sounded out slowly, not having tasted the name for months. "What, what are you doing here?"

She looked at him strangely, but Bruce was so sleep deprived he couldn't put his finger quite on it. Her car was pulled up the drive way and still on, headlights flashing right at the door and straight at his face.

He squinted as she continued to stare.

"Victoria," He said with more vigor. "What are you doing here?"

She took a moment before answering. "I'm leaving."

Bruce took his turn to stare at the woman before him, not sure if he should do so with concern or with exasperation.

"So you came by to give your farewells?"

She shot him something like a glare, but the lights were still to bright to tell. Why on earth would she leave the car on? Did she think she would need to make a high speed chase if he were to run after her with his undying proclamation of love?

"Where I'm going," She started, her voice finally becoming more fragile and cracked. "I can't...It's not safe for me to take a heavy load."

Bruce's face must have been a sight of complete confusion, because the next thing he knew her face scrunched into an almost painful grimace and she turned back towards the running vehicle.

Was that it? She was leaving like that? Heavy load? Why was this woman always so damn confusing.

But she wasn't going to drive away, she was reaching into the passenger's seat.

She pulled back, gently closing the car door to walk back him, clutching a small bundle and a new found bag tucked under her arm. When she was face to face with him once more, something in the back of his mind started yelling code red at the top of its lungs.

"You always told me you were a man of his word," She said softly. "And that we as human beings have a promise to protect those who are innocent, but it's the choice that shows who we are as people."

She clutched a green blanket close to her chest, like a girl would with a teddy bear when frightened.

"Will you keep that promise, Bruce?" She asked, staring into his eyes, and also his soul. "Will you protect those of innocence?"

Bruce wasn't sure if he had nodded or not, but suddenly he had a small weight placed into his hands and a small duffel bag placed at his feet. At first he was sure it was an animal or something, but the movements of the bundle were too well placed and less sporadic.

Shifts and tugs from the being inside gave way to a sight Bruce would forever have engraved in his mind. A small face, pale and round with youth peeked out from the warm fabric to stare back with bright baby blues that put his mother's to shame. Tuffs of black hair leaking out to frame the child's undeveloped head. Pouted lips pressed together as a small whimper sounded, telling of the baby's want of warmth.

Bruce subconsciously tucked the baby closer to his chest, hoping his body warmth was enough to satisfy the child in the apparently cold summer air. A light drizzle began to fall as Bruce looked up to see the mother of this child smile sadly, tracing a plump cheek as the child drew himself deeper into the billionaire's arms.

"Take care of him, Bruce."

And she was gone. Her car drove out the front gates and down the long road that lead from his private estate back to the city. Leaving him staring into the rain and with a baby snuggling into his chest.

So here's the next chapter! I know it's short, but I really just wanted to get baby Dick finally introduced! And here are a few things:

1. I do not know how far away Gotham is from Metropolis, so forgive me if the timing was off, it was required for the story.

2. The reason I say Wayne Manor is church like is because I was looking at the house they used for Dark Knight and it reminds me a lot of middle ages/notre dame like cathedrals.

3. I want some help. For Dick's name, seeing as his last name will be Wayne instead of Grayson, should I keep his middle name John, give him the middle name Thomas or both? I personally think Richard Thomas John Wayne has a ring to it :)

Also, I know since he is his biological son there might be some factors of old dickie we might miss, but I will be bringing some into the story! A few are: Nightmares (mostly about Batman dying and stuff), his stuffed elephant, the Romanian language, acrobatics and love of the circus. There are a few more and if you guys want to see anything specific give me some suggestions.

More will be up soon! Hope you enjoy!

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