This was going to be a one-shot in the universe of Bruce and Ella, but I decided it will probably have a couple of chapters. Set a few weeks after Bruce Wayne: Father leaves off.

...

"Dad, wake up, wake up, wake up!" giggled Ella, shaking Bruce's shoulder.

"Mm, no, no," mumbled Bruce, his face mashed into his pillow, "too early. Sleep."

"It's nine-thirty, golly heck, Pop," scoffed Ella. "Alfred and I have already had breakfast, and I've been to the beach, like, four times. Wake up!"

Bruce let out an inhuman moan, muffled in the pillow. "Ugh," he muttered. "Why does the beach seem to elevate your energy level by one million percent?"

"I found a shark's tooth today," said Ella, sliding a dark object from her fist and holding it up for Bruce to see. He peered up with one squinted eye and nodded.

"Mm, that's very nice, honey," he said, stretching. "Hey, let me see that. It's actually quite large."

Ella settled onto the bed beside her father and handed him the tooth, excited for his appraisal. "Alfred said it's probably a Great White," she included, quite proud of her discovery.

Bruce pulled himself up, so his shoulders rested against the backboard and examined the shark's tooth with sleepy, still somewhat blurry, eyes. "Do you know why it's black?" he asked, a yawn threatening his mouth.

"Yeah, Alfred told me that, too," nodded Ella. "It absorbed color from minerals while it was fossilizing."

Bruce nodded slowly, "Mm, yep. Very cool, El. I've never seen one so big. You'll have to make sure to keep that somewhere special."

"You don't seem too interested," pouted Ella, though she was only teasing.

Bruce chuckled, "Sorry, kid. I haven't woken up yet. Give me time to dress and have breakfast, and we'll go find fifty more of these, okay?"

Ella grinned and nodded. "Okay, Father."

"I thought you'd finally settled on Dad," said Bruce, closing his eyes again. "Father is – yeah, I don't really like the sound of that. Reminds me of a BBC drama."

"Shall I have Alfred prepare your morning meal, Father?" asked Ella, jumping up from the bed and skipping to the door. "Perhaps a bit of tea?"

Bruce threw his pillow, narrowly missing Ella as she squealed and slipped out the door.

...

The beach. Ella was obsessed. The way the sand sort of slid away as her running feet pressed against it, threatening to throw her off balance but still providing the hard ground necessary for propelling her forward, was enthralling and an entirely brand-new sensation for the girl. Dozens of water pockets dotted the shoreline, holding thousands of treasures just waiting for Ella to discover. Every time a wave crashed against the beach, she would scan the shoreline to see if a jellyfish or something even more exciting had washed up.

Alfred watched in amusement from under an umbrella, seated comfortably in a beach chair.

Bruce wandered down to the beach around ten-thirty, dressed in his swim trunks and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. Ella shouted a smart remark about his style choice as she packed another handful of sand onto the fort she was building. Bruce ignored her, dropping down beside Alfred to bathe in the sun and enjoy the empty, serene beach. Clearing it hadn't been a problem since he owned a mile of shorefront and the land adjoining it. He generally allowed visitors, but for Ella's birthday weekend, Bruce had wanted the place to themselves.

"Dad, look!" yelled Ella, scrambling up the beach and sliding down beside her father. "A perfect costate horn snail shell. I found two others, but they had broken. Isn't it pretty?"

Bruce took the shell and nodded, turning it over in his hand, "Very nice, El. How did you know the name?"

Ella took the shell back, studying the pattern closely, "I read a seashell book before we came here. Alfred gave it to me."

"Figured I'd alleviate the hundreds of questions we'd have if she didn't know what their names were," explained Alfred, applying more sunscreen to his arms even though the large umbrella shaded him entirely from the sun's rays.

Bruce chuckled, digging his feet into the sand, "Oh, I see. Very nice, Ella."

"I have a bucket full," said Ella, standing and running back a few feet to a small bucket she'd left in the sand. She carried it around, dumping it into the sand next to Bruce. "Look at all these cool shells. I didn't know things like this existed. I love the beach. Can we move here? Why do we live in Dracula's castle in the middle of nowhere?"

"I'm sorry your life is so horrific," said Bruce, picking up a soft pink shell from Ella's stash and running his finger over the grooves. "Hey, how about finding me an even bigger shark's tooth than the one you burst into my room with?"

Ella scooped her shells back into the bucket, eyeing Bruce suspiciously, "You trying to get rid of me so you can talk secret stuff with Alfred?"

Bruce grinned. That was precisely what he was doing. "Get out of here," he teased, giving her thigh a light smack. Ella laughed, standing and running back towards the ocean in search of more treasures.

"And the guests?" asked Alfred.

"I wish the Pavler's hadn't been in Europe this weekend," sighed Bruce. "Those kids are her closest friends. But a birthday cake and all the soda she wants and I think she'll be happy."

"You could give her a piece of printer paper with happy birthday written on it in crayon, and she'd be happy," said Alfred, placing a bookmark in the book he'd been reading and smiling down at Bruce. "She's a rather easygoing child."

"That she is," nodded Bruce. "And a hard one to buy a birthday present for. Can't buy her diamonds. She'd never want to wear them. Can't buy her clothes. She doesn't care about clothes. She's too young for a car, and she never asks for anything. What do you get a kid like that?"

"Books," replied Alfred, tapping the novel he held. "She does love books."

"Books aren't a birthday present," said Bruce.

Alfred chuckled, "When you've never received a birthday present in your whole life, I think a book would be more than welcome as a gift. Hm?"

Bruce sighed, "You're right. But thankfully, I thought of the perfect thing. Better than a book about seashells."

"Oh, is that so?" said Alfred, flipping his book back open. "Does it have anything to do with the motocross motorcycle hidden away in the garage?"

"Maybe," smirked Bruce. "She'll love the thing. Probably break several bones, but who doesn't mess around with a dirt bike at some point in their life?"

"Helmet or I won't let her near it," said Alfred, picking up his place in the chapter.

"Naturally," nodded Bruce, watching his daughter sit with her back to the ocean, waves washing up over her shoulders, as she scooped up handfuls of sand searching for shells and shark teeth.

...

Alfred had fallen asleep with his hat pulled low over his eyes and soft snores escaping his lips. Bruce was engrossed in his butler's book, glancing up every few minutes to keep tabs on his daughter. Ella had abandoned her seashell search and was body surfing the waves, laughing as they would crash around her and drag her over the sandy bottom. The water was not particularly rough that day, but the waves were large enough to create fun. She had just waded out a few yards to ride back in when Ella caught sight of a boy swimming towards her, his long arms carrying him steadily along with even, firm strokes.

"Hey!" called Ella.

It was a miracle the boy even heard her. He was quite a way out, and waves were loud. Her voice didn't even alert Bruce, who was buried in Alfred's book, only shifting his eyes to see his daughter and never spotting the young man beyond her.

The boy swam towards her, closing the gap quite quickly, and rose to his feet a few feet from her, lifting his goggles to rest on his forehead. "Hello," he smiled, rubbing the water from his eyes and blinking through the salty sting.

"Hi," grinned Ella, running her hands through the waves as they nudged against her. The water was calmer out as far as they were, and she loved the sensation it made as it washed against her side.

"Having a nice day?" asked the boy. He was probably around seventeen or eighteen, and though not much taller than Ella, his athletic body was tight and built for swimming.

"Yeah, it's pretty good," nodded Ella. "You didn't have to come over. I was just saying hey."

"Oh, I don't mind a break," grinned the boy. "I've been swimming much of the morning. I often swim down the shore for exercise. I've gone quite far today."

"Where are you from?" asked Ella.

"You mean because of my accent?" asked the boy, his eyes flashing jokingly.

Ella shook her head, "Nah, I mean, where did you swim from?"

"Oh!" chuckled the boy. "Port Gage. It's not far from here. Nice place. My name's Robin, by the way. And I'm from London."

"Cool," said Ella, squinting through the bright sun at Robin. "My name's Ella. We're from Gotham, but we're visiting the beach for a while."

"We?" Robin nodded towards the shore. "Are those your folks?"

"Yep," said Ella, shielding her eyes and looking towards Bruce and Alfred. "We live in that big house there. We own this whole beach. Well, a mile of it anyway."

"Are they both your fathers?" asked Robin, following Ella's movement and shielding his eyes to see Alfred and Bruce.

"Are they…ha! No!" laughed Ella. "No, no. No. My dad's reading the book, and the sleeping guy is our butler."

"Your butler?" burst Robin. "Blimey, your father's doing just fine for himself, isn't he?"

Ella nodded, "Eh. We're doing pretty well. Hey, do you know how to find shark's teeth? I found a huge one this morning, and then my luck seemed to spiral."

Robin stretched his arms, avoiding any cramps from his sudden stop, and nodded, "Your best chances are to see one lying on the sand. But I've found them in still pools and even right on the surf. It often comes down to luck."

"Hungry?" asked Ella, tucking her hands into the pockets of her swim shorts. Swim shorts with pockets. It had been an absolute requirement when Alfred asked her what sort of bathing suit she wanted.

Robin adjusted his goggles, "Hungry?"

"Yeah," said Ella. "We're having lunch soon. Are you hungry?

"Oh!" smiled Robin. "Well, that's nice of you. I can't eat much when I'm swimming because I might get cramps or need to throw up or something equally annoying. It's happened more than I care to admit. I get a little impatient."

"Well, come back for supper then," said Ella. "It's just us three here, and I'm so bored. We've been here since last night, and all they've wanted to do is sleep."

Robin chuckled, sliding his goggles back down over his eyes. "Okay," he nodded. "I'll be here for supper. Time?"

"I dunno. Six-thirty," said Ella shrugging. "I'll make sure to help Alfred cook something amazing."

"I look forward to it," said Robin. "Uh…say do you dress for dinner?"

Ella wrinkled her nose, "Dress?"

"I mean, dress up. Like, all fancy and such?" asked Robin.

"Oh, no!" grinned Ella. "I'll be surprised if I even change out of my swimsuit."

"Well, I promise to wear actual clothes for the meal," said Robin, starting to wade back out. "Until then, Miss Ella, have a lovely afternoon."

"Bye, Robin!" waved Ella, starting back towards the shore. She waded slowly, watching Robin begin his strokes back the way he had come for a few minutes, and then jogged her way to the sand, heading towards Bruce. "Dad! Dad!"

"Hm," said Bruce, absorbed in the cheap romance novel he would never admit to Alfred he had read. Why on earth had Alfred even been reading a cheap romance novel?

"Dad!"

Ella's voice pulled Bruce from his thoughts, "Aye, kiddo. Having fun? Geez, look at you. You're practically brown. I mean, you had pretty olive skin, to begin with, but you are positively dark now."

"We have a guest for supper!" grinned Ella, dropping into the sand beside Bruce. "I met a kid out there. He was swimming. His name is Robin, and he's from London, and I invited him to supper."

Bruce set the novel in the sand beside Alfred, so the butler would think he had dropped it in his sleep, and turned questioningly to Ella, "Uh? What?"

Ella nodded, rubbing the sand from her leg as it clung to her wet skin, "Yeah. I met him out there. I told him to come to supper."

"I literally never saw a single person out there with you, and I was watching you the whole time," said Bruce, shielding his eyes and looking out at the water. "Are you sure you aren't getting a little too hot? We should go in for lunch, anyway. The heat is messing with your head, missy."

Ella shrugged, standing up. "I'm going to go wash off quickly," she said, running back towards the water. She called over her shoulder, "You'll see at supper!"

...

"Ella, I am going to eat without you if you don't get your backside in your chair in five seconds!" Bruce's voice rang out through the house as he sat, waiting in the cheap dining room. Ella had begun calling it that after she realized the beach house had two dining rooms and one was smaller and more informal.

Alfred set a basket of bread on the table and took a seat beside Bruce, unrolling his silverware from the napkin to spread over his lip.

The doorbell surprised both men, and before Alfred could rise to answer it, Ella's voice rang out, "I've got it!" There was a pounding as Ella ran from wherever she was in the house and then the murmur of voices.

Alfred set his napkin on the table and stood up, sighing. "Well, perhaps her mysterious swimmer was real after all," he said. "And look at this. Three places all set."

Bruce shook his head; actually, a bit surprised the boy had shown up. Of course, he had believed that Ella had met someone, though it confused him that he hadn't seen the person in the water. This Robin guy must be a speedy swimmer.

"Dad!" said Ella, sliding into the room before Alfred had even had a chance to go and greet their guest at the front door. "This is Robin. Robin Grayson. Robin, meet my dad. And Alfred."

"How do you do, sir?" smiled Robin, nodding politely.

"Mr. Grayson," smiled Bruce, rising to his feet and crossing the room to greet Robin. The two shook hands and made small talk as the three went to the table and took their seats. Ella frowned when she realized Alfred would not be joining them. She hated how he secluded himself and fell into a servant's role when a guest was present.

"What brings you to this area, Mr. Grayson?" asked Bruce, using the title partly as a formality and partly to impress upon Ella that he found this extremely fit, handsome young man old enough to be called mister and therefore far too old for her to have any sort of romantic interest.

"Um, my parents are in the entertainment business," replied Robin. "We are staying in Port Gage for the summer while my father produces a movie currently shot in the area."

"That's neat," said Ella, leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table. Formal table manners had been repeated hundreds of times by Alfred, and he often complained that they 'went in one ear and out the other with that ridiculous child.' "What kind of movie?"

"Oh, one of those silly romance things with the same plot repeated in every film," chuckled Robin.

"Hey! Like the book you were reading today, Dad!" said Ella, grinning at Bruce.

He flushed and shot a quick glare her way before turning back towards Robin, "Uh, heh, ignore her. Her teasing is a form of flattery and dependably unbelievable." The two laughed, and it was Ella's turn to glare at Bruce. She felt like he was treating Robin as an equal and herself as a child.

"This is a lovely home, Mr. Wayne," said Robin, gesturing around the room. "Truly remarkable."

"Thank you," nodded Bruce. "It is a nice place. A bit smaller than we're used to, eh, El? But we get by even with only the two dining rooms." Another polite chuckle between the two males, and Ella frowned, leaning back in her chair. The small talk was heavy enough to suffocate a whale. "We're just here for the weekend," Bruce continued. "Ella's birthday is in a few days, and we wanted to get away from Gotham for a bit."

"Oh, you didn't mention that," said Robin, flashing a friendly smile towards Ella. "Happy early birthday."

"Thanks," said Ella, jabbing her fork into the lasagna Alfred had made.

"Tell me, Mr. Grayson, how long have you been swimming?" asked Bruce, leaning back as Alfred poured some wine for him. "Ella tells me you are quite good."

The evening continued, small talk and pointless jokes slung back and forth, and Ella glaring at Bruce every time he made a pointed reference towards her childhood or mischievous ways. After dinner, they retired on the back deck overlooking the beach, and Robin and Bruce talked about swimming and Wayne Enterprises. Ella slipped away after a few minutes and joined Alfred in the kitchen, plunging her hands into the steaming sink water and grabbing a plate to wash.

"And where is your guest?" asked Alfred, taking the dish from her and wiping it dry with a towel.

"Sucking up to Dad," she grumbled, handing Alfred a cup. "Stupid guy. He was all fun and friendly at the beach, and now he wants to impress the billionaire and seem like an adult."

"He's probably just star-struck," smiled Alfred, reaching into the sink to pop the drain. He let the water go down an inch or two before plugging it again, hoping the lower water would keep Ella from splashing it everywhere as she mindlessly sloshed about in her anger.

"Well, he's also just stupid," said Ella.

"I think your father was a little worried," said Alfred.

"Worried?" asked Ella, realizing she was making a mess and moving more gently as she washed.

Alfred nodded, mopping at some splashes on the counter, "Yes. You bring a good-looking, athletic young man into the house and don't expect your father to suspect a romantic attraction?"

"Romantic what?" asked Ella, slapping her hands against the water and turning to face Alfred. A small wave cascaded over the sink, and Ella yelped as it soaked her shorts and sneakers.

Alfred raised an eyebrow, "You heard me."

"He's way too old for me!" said Ella, stepping back and shaking the water from her hands. Alfred sighed. He was going to be soaked before this conversation was over. "I don't have a crush on him! I was just bored and wanted some company. You know, the only kids I ever see are Misha and Lily and Erik. I want more friends. Robin seemed like a potential prospect until he started getting all dumb around Dad."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, processing Ella's current mood and outburst. She had been perfectly decent and her usual, fun-loving self throughout the day. For some reason, Robin's interest in impressing Bruce had caused her to grow quite upset. The butler could tell the girl was serious about not having a romantic interest in Robin, but he still wasn't sure why she was so angry. "I'm sorry, dear," he said. "It was an excellent idea to invite Robin to supper. Unfortunately, he seems more interested in advancing his future business options than in a light-hearted friendship."

"Friendship," mumbled Ella, drying her hands on a free towel and slapping it down hard over the edge of the sink, so half of it hung in the dishwater. "I wouldn't know about that." She turned on her heel and stomped off to change into dry clothes, and Alfred drenched through, staring at the wet floor and counters, sighing deeply.

"It's time," he said aloud, "for that young lady to enroll in school, whether Bruce is ready to give her up or not."

...

You were all so supportive of the last story, and I plan to continue this universe. Thank you for reading and following along!