Hi, guys! Bit of a shorter chapter here, but it's plenty sappy. Also, I wanted to give you all a basic timeline. This story is taking place after the events of The Dark Knight, but minus the whole "Batman killed Harvey Dent" deal. So it is basically an AU where Batman is still Gotham's hero and we can all just use our imaginations as for what happened to Harvey. Maybe he died in the fuel explosion. It's up to you, I guess.

...

"It's court day!" called Bruce, using the toe of his dress shoe to knock on Ella's door. He finished buckling his belt, suit coat slung over the crook of his arm, as he waited for the girl's response.

"I know!" came Ella's voice through the door. "I've been up for two hours. Why'd you sleep in so late?" She swung the door open and greeted Bruce with an ear-to-ear grin, face flushed pink with excitement.

"Late? It's 7 a.m.," responded Bruce, slipping his dark gray custom suitcoat on. "Hey, now, aren't you pretty!" Bruce's eyes sparkled as he looked over his young ward, dressed as he had never seen her before.

Alfred had tastefully dressed Ella in a lacy off-white dressed with three-quarter sleeves and a hem that rested just below her knees. Silver flats and a simple, yet elegant hair bow completed the look. Due to Ella's tall height and fit physique, she was often thought to be much older than her thirteen years, but in that moment, and for the first time to Bruce, she looked every bit the young girl she was.

"Not my choice," mumbled Ella. "Does it really look okay?"

Bruce laughed and tucked one of Ella's curls behind her left ear, "I think you look absolutely okay. I would even go as far as to say beautiful."

The color in Ella's cheeks darkened to red, and she turned away from Bruce to hide the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. "Well, that's good," she said, turning off her light and pulling the door shut as she stepped into the hallway. "Thought maybe I was giving off too much of a billionaire kid vibe."

"You are a billionaire kid," said Bruce, putting his arm around Ella's shoulders. "11.6 billion to be exact."

"That's how much money you have!" cried Ella, shocked at hearing the number for the first time.

Bruce chuckled and slid his left hand into his pocket as they walked, "Yeah, personally. Wayne Enterprises is closer to 24."

"Billion?" gasped Ella. "That's a good bit."

"Yeah, quite a good bit," Bruce nodded, squeezing the girl close to his side. "And it only took a small fortune of it to speed up the adoption process."

"I know exactly how much you spent, and it was not a small fortune," scoffed Ella. "It was a big fortune and I am worth every cent."

Bruce laughed aloud and nodded, "You absolutely are, missy. How do you know, anyway?"

"Alfred told me," replied Ella.

…

Four Days Before

It was almost three p.m., and Bruce had been in a meeting since early that morning. Ella's English tutor had given her a load of tiresome homework and she had rather harshly demanded of Alfred to know when Bruce would be home so she could talk herself out of completing it. Alfred had taken her by the shoulders and looked her straight in the eye.

"Do you know where Bruce is right now?" he had asked.

"His company," shrugged Ella, keeping her eyes down. She was embarrassed at her sharp words and wanted to apologize, but pride was blocking her ability to form the words.

"No," said Alfred. "He's in a meeting trying to speed up your adoption process, so it doesn't take the full sixteen months the court projected to him."

Ella looked up and met the butler's eyes for a fraction of a second before dropping her head again, "How's he gonna do that?"

"The same way I brought you home with me the first day I met you," replied Alfred. "Money talks in this city, and Bruce cares enough about you to spend whatever it takes. You're his world now and he has no patience, much like you."

Ella groaned and leaned forward, her head resting against Alfred's chest, "Oh man, I'm sorry, Alfred. I'm the worst."

"Well, now," said Alfred, putting his arms around Ella, "I wouldn't go so far as to say the worst. Bear in mind, I raised Bruce and he put me through hell on earth. I know a thing or two about the worst. You're just tired from your tutoring today. That being said, do you think that gives you an excuse to be disrespectful?"

"No, sir," said Ella. "I'm really sorry, Alfred. Do you forgive me?" The words were foreign on her tongue, as apologizing was not something she was used to doing.

"Of course, I forgive you," said Alfred. He held her out at an arm's length and searched her face. Ella looked back, and a smile tugged at her lips, happiness passing through her eyes and making Alfred smile.

"Ah, there's my girl," he said. "Now, what say we work on your homework together and wait for Bruce? We can shock him when he asks how much schoolwork you have left before bed and you can say none."

Ella giggled and nodded, "Okay, Alfred. Thanks."

The two walked towards Ella's schoolroom, which had been set up next to the east wing library.

"Say, Alfred," said Ella, tilting her head towards the butler, "Just how much does it take to speed up an adoption process?"

…

Present Time

"Alfred! It's time to go!" called Bruce as they reached the bottom of the staircase. Both Bruce and Ella had taken breakfast in their rooms, anticipating the early departure for their 8 o'clock hearing that morning, and Bruce assumed Alfred was still cleaning things up in the kitchen.

"Well ahead of you, sir," said Alfred, coming around the corner with coats over his arm. "The car is out front."

"Excellent," said Bruce, his heart swelling slightly. He knew it was Alfred's job to be on top of things, but it always relieved him to see the butler was a few steps ahead of everyone else.

Within five minutes, the three were well on their way towards Gotham City with Ella tucked under Bruce's arm, and both men's hearts bursting with excitement.

…

"Bloody, blooming heck, Pop!" Ella rolled onto her side, and a low moan escaped her lips.

"That was near the top on the list of things I never thought you would say to me," said Bruce, closing Ella's door behind him and approaching the bed with a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of DayQuil in the other.

"Padre, I wish to die," cried the girl, gripping her sheets tightly and kicking hard until her blankets were bunched at the bottom of the bed.

"I know," said Bruce. "Alfred is feeling about the same. He said just about the same thing to me when I brought him his medicine. The bloody, blooming heck part I mean, though Alfred's was slightly more expletive. Here, drink this."

"Medicine is trash," said Ella, rolling over to face Bruce. Her curls were a mess and strewn over her flushed face. A fever had come and gone for the past day, and Ella had slept for almost twenty hours, battling achy joints and a heavy cough.

"You were far worse before I gave it to you this morning," said Bruce. "At least your fever seems to be gone. Alfred still has one."

"I wanna be done, Aba," said Ella, shakily taking the medicine cup from Bruce.

"I don't think you have called me the same thing more than one time since the court day," chuckled Bruce, watching to make sure Ella swallowed every drop of medicine.

Ella made a face and handed the cup back to Bruce, whimpering as she reached for the water. She drank half the glass then sighed, "Yeah, well, I haven't decided what I like best yet. What do you like best?"

"All of them," responded Bruce. The first time Ella called him 'Dad,' the joy that filled his heart had been unexplainable and it humored him to hear her try different variations of the term.

"What are you going to do when you get sick?" asked Ella, setting her water glass on the bedside table.

"When I get sick?" asked Bruce. "And what makes you think I have time to get sick?"

"Alfred doesn't have time, and he's sick," responded Ella, settling back onto her pillows and brushing her hair back from her face. "Oh, Papa Bruce, I want to die!"

Bruce stood and gathered the cups and tissues scattered over the table and raised an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure you'll be fine by tomorrow morning, and whatever you do, please don't end up calling me Papa Bruce. Sounds like I'm eighty-years-old."

"Goodnight, Papa Bruce," said Ella, turning onto her side. "I'll ring when I need you."

"Hilarious," said Bruce. "Okay, I'll be back up in a bit. I need to go deal with some emails."

Bruce left and hurried down the hall, awkwardly balancing the used cups and medicine in his hands. He was tired and his knee hurt. Alfred and Ella had been suffering bad colds leaving him to care for them and the household. The respect he held for Alfred had grown enormously in the past twenty-four hours as he found himself barely able to keep up with everything that needed to be done. Cooking, dishes, answering the phone, dealing with random people that came to the door, doctoring Alfred and Ella, laundry, repeat. Twice now, Alfred had stumbled into the kitchen half-dressed and insisting on preparing the next meal and both times had found Bruce supporting the elderly man's weight as he ushered him back to bed for much-needed rest.

"You haven't had a day off in twenty years," Bruce had said. "Enjoy it."

"Just as much of a sarcastic brat as you ever were," Alfred had mumbled, burrowing underneath his blankets.

Bruce had just finished depositing the glasses in the sink when a terrible thing happened. It was the one thing Bruce had been sure would cause him to have a mental breakdown if it occurred. It was the worst possible outcome available for the current situation.

Bruce sneezed.

"No," he whispered, grasping the edge of the counter with both hands. "No. No. No. No. No, please, no. I cannot get sick." He grabbed the DayQuil and drank a swig straight from the bottle. "Oh, please, no. I can't be. It can't be." His knee was started to ache and he sighed, reaching down to rub it. The broken leg had healed up nicely after his fall with the Joker, but his knee had never been quite the same.

The doorbell rang.

"Whoever it is, go away!" shouted Bruce. He groaned and spun on his heel to go and answer the door. How on earth did Alfred do it? Down through the halls and stopping to gather himself before answering the bell, Bruce took a deep breath and swung the door open.

"Hello," nodded the man standing before him. "Bruce Wayne? Nice to meet you. I'm Vince Ferrera, and I believe you have something of mine."

...

Ah, it can't be all cute from here on out. We have to deal with that terrible brother of Ella's first. This should be good! Well, we can hope. It all depends on what my disorganized and rather ridiculous brain comes up with next. In avanti! Onward!