Note: Hello everyone. Things will start to pick up in the next chapter when I will bring in the Justice League; this is just some quiet times which I hope isn't too useless. I feel as if this chapter was a bit rushed and not up to par with the others because of the state of my melted brains from work. Hopefully though, many will still enjoy it.


It was a well-known fact around the superhero community that nothing could surprise the Batman; he lived in Gotham, which should speak for itself. Yet, in the past two weeks, that rule was repeatedly broken with the arrival of Dick.

With him around, Bruce had started to learn that maybe surprises in Gotham didn't always mean death or danger. That they could be a good thing again, and it was all thanks to the tiny boy who now held his heart and world.

In the two weeks since, Dick had slowly began to adapt, there were still moments that he missed his mother which Bruce knew he could never truly replace, but at least to Dick he was no longer a stranger. He was adjusting well. They both were. He admit that at times, things seem to go from bad to worse, the training he had gone through as Batman never did teach him how to bathe such a tiny vulnerable thing nor did he think that learning how to break a man a hundred ways would help with changing a diaper. At the end of the day though when Dick lay asleep in his arms, safe, warm and comfortable, he couldn't help but cherish all the times he had with his baby.

Along with learning how to care for a baby, Bruce had gradually become exposed to Dick's bubbly personality and little quirks and with that his fears and insecurities.

He had found out early on that Dick hated to be alone. Anytime he noticed that no one was around him, he was quick to cry, only stopping when either his father or Alfred picked him up and held him. It dawned on Bruce that maybe Dick felt that he would be abandoned again. He remembered reading in one of the baby books that children at that age would begin to slowly realize that they could be separated from their parents, giving way to feelings of fear and loneliness. With this revelation it ended with Bruce never far away from his baby boy. Anywhere he went Dick was always positioned nearby, usually on a baby jumper, on a bumbo seat, or on a blanket placed on the floor.

Another thing Bruce noticed was that when Dick wasn't crying, he was smiling and laughing. The infant was the definition of a smiling, bouncing baby. He smiled at everyone and everything, and for a baby who could barely sit up by himself he loved to move around and try to explore. Amazingly Dick had already learned how to roll from his back to his belly and when he was on his blanket he would repeat the action until he rolled off of the blanket he was on top of.

Little surprises and things like that never ceased to amaze Bruce and it somehow embarrassed him how excited every little thing Dick did, though pride usually overpowered those feelings. He was a proud father and Dick, as Bruce was starting to learn, was a clever little thing.

Currently he was watching as Dick lay on his new crib, the baby dressed in a black pajama onesie with a familiar bat logo on the chest; he shook his head at the choice of clothing knowing his butler must have picked the set on purpose.

The baby looked up at him and laughed before catching his feet, he stared at them in amazement before putting a foot on his mouth and chewing his toes.

Bruce chuckled at the action and wondered how many times he was going to keep smiling; he just couldn't get enough of this boy. Every smile, every giggle, every look that his son gave him seem to melt through his ice cold exterior and burrow itself deep in his chest.

"Does that taste good?" He asked playfully as he lightly tapped his baby's nose. The baby answered by giggling around the foot in his mouth.

After the article had been published and Dick became known he had finally gone out to buy his son everything he needed. Sure he had bought diapers and bottles before but he had been careful not too buy anything too big that would have raised questions. Now though, after having Dick with him for two weeks, he had bought a crib and set it up in his bedroom knowing the baby would not sleep without anyone present to watch him. He had also bought a car seat, toys and clothes that soon filled a room.

Alfred had reprimanded him telling him that babies grew at an alarming rate and Dick would probably never wear everything he had bought. Bruce had looked on embarrassed and he remembered how the old man had looked when Bruce had held up a tiny tuxedo that would have look adorable on Dick. Of course Alfred had shaken his head before sighing and telling him that he would need more than one suit. He guessed he wasn't the only one spoiling the little boy.

A soft knock on the door and a reminder that lunch would be ready brought Bruce out of his musings. Carefully he pulled the foot from Dick's mouth and held his hands out at the baby. In return Dick squealed kicking his tiny legs as his little hands reached up in a gabbing motion. Bruce slowly lifted him up and settled him in the crook of his arm as he laid his baby's head on his shoulder, the weight feeling nothing more than carrying a doll.

It was times when he held his son that Bruce felt like a giant; of course he was tall even to most people, standing at over six feet, but with Dick he felt even bigger. His son was so tiny, his head fitting in one of his hands easily. It left a feeling of fierce protectiveness in his chest that always grabbed a hold of him anytime the boy was near and left him wanting to gather the boy in his arms and keep him there.

He continued down the long stairway and into the kitchen where he was met with the scene of Alfred setting up the table and a certain reporter already seated down, looking almost as comfortably as being in his own home.

"Ah, Master Bruce, did I mention that I invited Master Clark for lunch?" Bruce looked over at the older man. Alfred would never forget something like that.

"No, you didn't." He answered quietly, eyeing the other two men in the kitchen.

"Well, it must have slipped my mind; I am getting old, maybe even a bit senile." The butler didn't even turn away from his duty, continuing to set the table up, probably knowing that Bruce wouldn't say anything. Not that he could do anything about it now.

Well, it wasn't the first time. Clark had slowly taken up residence in the Wayne Manor. It was understandable when he was in costume, he was after all, watching over Gotham for him, but it was the fact that Clark had started stopping by anytime he wanted.

The man of steel would suddenly show up at the manor with a stuffed toy in one hand and a big smile on his face with the excuse that he wanted to see how his godchild or his 'nephew' was doing. At least today he wasn't holding a stuffed toy, one Superman doll was more than enough in Batman territory, and he didn't need his son growing up with an obsession to the man of steel.

He entered the kitchen and gritted his teeth when Dick turned to look at Clark and began to wiggle in his fathers hold, babbling and smiling at his uncle.

"Hi Dickie, how's my little buddy?" The man stood up a bright smile on his face as he headed straight for the baby. Ignoring the fathers' reluctance, he held his hands out and Dick wasted no time in leaning forward and jumping into them. Bruce watched and a small pang of jealously shot through his heart. He was Dick's father and yet Dick was always so excited and happy being with everyone else.

Alfred, who stood on the side raised a brow and cleared his throat as he got the attention of the two men.

"Lunch, sirs?" Clark nodded and smiled at the old man before turning his attention back to the baby in his arms. Bruce could feel his cheeks burn slightly at embarrassment, knowing that Alfred had probably seen him in his state. He berated himself mentally, quietly reminding himself who he was as he hardened his features and distanced himself.

On the side Alfred's mustache twitched in a repressed smile.

Bruce watched cautiously as Clark lifted the baby up above his head before slowly bringing him down in his arms making the baby kick out his legs in excitement.

Another quirk of Dicks' was his love for being in the air. It seemed as if the higher he was, the louder his laughter became, his laughter leaving him breathless and wanting more. After the initial giggles had settled Clark once again lifted him up and brought him down laughing along with him. He did it once more before settling him down and kissing the baby on the lips before sitting on the opposite seat from Bruce with the baby on his lap. Reluctantly Bruce turned to his food thanking Alfred at the set lunch before him.

"Alfred mentioned that you were going back to work tomorrow." Bruce grunted, not wanting to think about the fact. He was going back tomorrow and he didn't like it one bit, he knew was being paranoid but he just didn't want to leave Dick alone, as is, he didn't think he could concentrate on his paper work when his son was at home alone and vulnerable. Well of course Alfred would be with him but after just getting to know his son he just didn't want to miss anything with him.

He nodded in answer, sipping at his drink as he watched Clark lift Dick to stand on his lap. Dick looked up to him smiling and occasionally bouncing, though his legs would buckle a few times from being unused to the weight.

"And Batman?" Clark asked quietly, turning the baby to face him and lifting him once again, Dick laughed out before putting his hands on Clark's face; the man opened his mouth and lightly bit on the little fingers with his lips. The infant cooed at the new game before suddenly pulling off the spectacles off of the mans face. Clark let him, not that he really needed it to see as he watched the baby look at the glasses in curiosity.

Clark glanced at the other man from the corner of his eyes.

"The League are wondering where you are."

Bruce took a small bite of his lunch, his gaze elsewhere, "They should know."

"They don't believe it."

"You wrote it." The other man shot back and Clark wished the other man would grace him with a lot more; you would think that after naming him his son's godfather that Bruce would be a lot of bearable. Heck he'd seen the man smile more in the two weeks than he ever did in the preceding years they knew each other, but he really shouldn't have been surprised. Bruce was Batman after all and he supposed not being thrown out of the manor the moment he stepped in was a step up. Especially since the man let him hold the most important person in his life.

"Contrary to popular belief Bruce, not everyone always believes me. Besides I haven't said anything else about it, they ask but I tell them that it's not my story to tell." The other man stayed quiet, seemingly uncaring and Clark sighed, "Look, you have to understand that there are people that care about you. And right now they think that you may have been injured and needed to hide out. It would explain why they think you haven't been in patrol lately, Flash even asked me if I wrote that article because I owed you a favor. That you needed to pull a stunt to protect your secret identity."

The other man raised an eyebrow "They really believed that? It's not something I would do."

"It's not something Batman would do," Clark corrected, "Bruce on the other hand…"

"When's the next meeting?"

"In three days. Are you coming?" Bruce looked back to the baby who continued to play with the spectacles in his hands before Clark gently took back his glasses, stopping the infant from putting the item in his mouth.

Bruce sat, mulling the idea in his head before he turned to look at Alfred, who had been keeping an ear on the conversation while washing a few dishes.

He could leave Dick with Alfred and just leave the meeting early. It's not like he would be staying long, just enough to show them that he was not injured.

The butler let out a slight cough breaking the silence.

Bruce turned back to the other man.

"I'll be there."

TBC.