Here it is! More than the one-shot I intended, but I like how it turned out. Thank you so much to everyone who has stopped by to read, review, follow, or favorite. You're all amazing!

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"Well, I didn't think she was going to steal the bike and take off!" shouted Bruce, loudly enough so Alfred could hear him down the hall. He hopped a bit, trying to get his pants on without falling over. He could almost have sworn his knee audibly begged him to stop.

Alfred, checking the security cameras, nodded and mumbled, "This is the same child that escaped the clutches of Catwoman while battling a high fever; I don't know why you're so shocked." He narrowed his eyes as he saw Ella roll the dirt bike out of the garage and wheel it down the drive. He shook his head and paused the footage. "Raising two children at my age…"

Bruce appeared, his jacket half on and cell phone in hand. "I just watched the footage, too. She left at practically the same time we went to bed." He grunted and leaned against the door frame. Alfred reacted instantly and helped the younger man sit down, his heart dropping as he saw the pain flashing through Bruce's eyes.

"I think you should let me go find Ella, and you stay off of that knee, hm?" suggested Alfred, though he meant it as an order.

Sliding his phone into his pocket, Bruce gave Alfred an unreadable side-eye before chuckling, "I've certainly felt worse in my time. I can handle looking for my runaway kid. Besides, it hardly hurts at all."

A very excruciating five minutes later brought Bruce and Alfred outside, and Bruce limped down the stairs one at a time, gripping the railing for all he was worth.

"Hardly hurts?" asked Alfred, steadying Bruce's arm. Bruce just huffed and pulled his arm free, descending the last few steps on his own as a stubborn visual of his perfect health.

At the bottom, he turned to face his butler, gripping the rail as support, "Are you coming?"

Alfred lifted his chin and focused his eyes on the sun, slowly rising in the distance. "I'll stay here in case she returns," he said. "And please don't press the accelerator too hard and lock your knee up." Of course, he wanted to go with the younger man and help him if necessary, but another part of him could barely stand to see Bruce in such pain. No, he would stay here in case Ella returned. He doubted she had gone very far.

Bruce tipped his head back at the gas pedal comment. "Thank you, Alfred. I'm not a child that needs…babysitting." Bruce was staring under the porch now. Alfred hurried down the stairs to see what was there. Bruce slapped the railing hard and cleared his throat. "Why? Are you trying to turn my hair gray?"

Ella, leaning against a support beam and tapping a stick against the ground, shrugged, "You have like 7 gray ones already." The bike sat propped up beside her, wheels covered in sand but otherwise in perfect condition.

"Get over here," said Bruce. His voice was even, but Ella knew his tone, and she jumped to her feet instantly. He was not in a bantering mood. "Faster than slow," ordered Bruce. Ella jogged over, tripping slightly on her untied shoelace, until she was standing by him at the stairway.

"Where the bloody – where have you been?" asked Alfred, knowing any swearing would undoubtedly be used by Ella in the future with the excuse that she had heard it from him. "We thought you'd gone off on the motorbike."

"Well, I sort of did," said Ella, running her finger along the rail and wincing when a sliver of wood pierced her skin. "I only made it to the road, and then I decided it was too scary to run away like that. Not that I was running away. It was more like just getting away for a bit. Anyhow, I came back."

"Yes, and you are marching straight inside and going to your room until further notice," said Bruce, closing his eyes. Alfred immediately sensed the pain his young master was experiencing and nodded to Ella.

"Do as your father said," he ordered. It wasn't the best way to handle the situation, but his level of concern over Bruce was currently taking precedence. Ella, fortunately, obeyed without argument, which should have been enough of a warning to Bruce and Alfred, but both were too concerned with Bruce's knee to notice. She scrambled up the stairs, and Alfred hooked his arm under Bruce's shoulder, helping him climb one stair at a time.

"I have the literal worst father in the whole world," growled Ella, slamming her fist into her pillow. She brushed at the tears dripping from her chin and began pulling her shoe off to whip it across the room at top speed to alleviate some of her pent-up emotion. She only got it half off before a soft knock sounded at the door, and Alfred appeared. Ella buried her face in the blanket, but not before Alfred noticed the tear streaks.

Crossing the room, Alfred settled onto the bed beside Ella and rested his hand gently on her back. "There, there, my dear," he said. "I know. You've got an awful lot running around in that head of yours right now. You have every right to be upset. How would you like to tell me what's on your heart?" He took the dangling shoe from her foot and dropped it on the floor, groaning inwardly when a cloud of sand burst out from the impact.

Ella didn't reply, fighting the sobs that threatened her chest. She couldn't let Alfred see her emotions. She wasn't sure why she didn't want him to see her cry. It wasn't like he hadn't seen her sobbing uncontrollably a dozen times before.

Alfred sighed and moved his hand up to gently caress her hair, "Well, that's alright. I'll just talk then. If I had to wild a guess, I'd say you're upset about our friend Mr. Grayson gaining such favor in your father's eyes? Well, I can assure you right now that no one, and I do mean absolutely no one, will ever take your place as his beloved child. He loves you more than you can imagine, and a smart, dapper young man like Mr. Grayson will move on to other things, and you and Master Wayne will still be together just as always."

"He said I needed self-control and that I needed to lighten up," said Ella, her voice muffled in the blanket.

Alfred furrowed his brow and then breathed deeply. She had heard their conversation last night. "My dear," he said, sighing, "last night-" He was not entirely sure how to continue. Part of him wanted to reprimand her for being out of the bed, but that was certainly not the prominent issue. He knew very well that Bruce was in a terrible mood due to his pain and would regret all the things he had said if he gave it any thought. Alfred raised an eyebrow. He was dealing with the wrong child first. Leaning down to press a kiss against Ella's head, Alfred whispered, "I'll be back, darling. I need to speak with your father. Know that I love you. Know that he loves you."

The silence Alfred received was a bit of a twinge to his heart, but he stood and slipped out, casting up a prayerful plea for help in straightening out two very stubborn young people.

"First things first, you are taking this medication, and I will not hear a single word out of you until you swallow it," ordered Alfred, handing two huge pills to Bruce with a glass of water. There was no protest, and Bruce let Alfred slide a pillow under his knee as he swallowed the pain killer. "I don't know why you refused to bring along that brace Mr. Fox gave you."

"Don't start, Alfred," moaned Bruce. "I thought I was getting better."

"The absence of cartilage in the knee does not simply get better," said Alfred, tugging a little harder than necessary on the edge of the pillow as he flattened it out. Bruce moaned and shot Alfred an annoyed look. Alfred took the glass of water and ignored Bruce's glare, "Now, for your information, a little girl overheard our conversation last night and is currently crying in her bedroom because she thinks her father finds her unworthy. Your problem, Master Wayne, is that you refuse to take care of yourself, which gives you a lot of emotional stress. As long as you continue to persist in this childish determination selfishly, those closest to you will surely suffer."

Bruce, completely caught off guard by Alfred's announcement, stared at this butler, mouth slightly open. "She-she heard us talking last night?" he asked. He was suddenly quite hot even with the air conditioner running.

Alfred nodded, opening the window shade and letting the warm sunlight stream in. "She did," he said. "I wouldn't wonder at her little escapade last night. She's feeling lost, as I tried if you'll remember, to explain to you last evening."

Bruce rolled his eyes, "Yes, yes. I know. I still think she's acting child…" he caught himself, taking a deep breath. Alfred was right. And he knew perfectly well that the pain in his knee was affecting his mood significantly.

Alfred saw the change in Bruce's face and relaxed his offense. He opened the closet door and pulled out a box from the back. In a much softer voice than he had used all day, Alfred said, "I don't think it is challenging for you to imagine you are a young orphan and the world seems large and strange. If you thought you were losing your only sense of security, wouldn't you be just as emotional as our girl?"

"Our girl?" smiled Bruce.

Alfred opened the box and removed the knee brace from Lucius Fox. "Your girl, Master Wayne."

Bruce smirked, eyeing the brace. Of course, Alfred had brought it along. "No. You raised me. We're raising Ella. Our girl."

Alfred's fleeting glance did not go unnoticed by Bruce, and the younger man saw the glimmer of appreciation in his butler's eyes.

"Alright, Alfred," groaned Bruce. "Let's get this thing on so I can go and apologize for being an idiot. And then we've got a birthday party to plan for tomorrow."

Bruce stood at the foot of Ella's bed, trying to figure out the best way to start the conversation. She had ignored his several attempts at getting her to pull her head out from under the pillow, and he didn't know how to go on without literally dragging her out.

"Um, look, El," he began, lowering himself onto the end of the bed, "I would like you to sit up, but if you'd rather not, I'll talk like this. I owe you an apology." Ella's breathing slowed, but she didn't move. Bruce smiled. She was listening. "And furthermore," he continued, "I was downright stupid yesterday and said a lot of things I shouldn't have. I suppose I was trying to impress our guest, and I hurt you in the process. That was a real jerk move on my part. And then I proceeded to say some dumb things last night that you overheard. I said those things because I was in pain and, frankly, a little selfish. So what it comes down to is that I am the absolute worst, and I hope you can forgive me. I love you – I love you so much – I – I don't even know how to explain how much I love you." His voice was breaking. He certainly hadn't expected to cry during this apology. "I didn't think I could ever be a father. I thought I didn't have it in me. But then you came along, and I didn't want to be anything but a father." Bruce stopped talking. He certainly hadn't expected all of that to come out.

Ella sniffed and moved slightly.

Bruce rested his hand on her leg and stared at the upside-down sneaker lying across the room since he didn't know what else to look at, "I love you, Ella Wayne. When you're ready to come out, meet me on the deck, and we'll talk about the wild romp of a birthday party we'll be having tomorrow." He squeezed her calf, which felt like a lame replacement for smothering her in a hug, but he wanted to respect her feelings at the moment. "Okay, missy. See you soon, I hope."

Bruce left.

Ella didn't move.

Alfred was almost to Ella's bedroom when the doorbell rang. Slightly annoyed at the deterrence from his mission, he turned to see who had arrived. "If it's that young woman offering surf lessons again, so help me…" he stopped when he saw the jet-black hair of Robin Grayson through the side window by the door. "Ah. Our inadvertent troublemaker." Composing himself and pushing away the intrusive urge to punch the young man in the mouth, Alfred opened the door and smiled, "Mr. Grayson. What can I do for you, young man?" He had barely asked the question before he remembered the invitation that had been extended to their guest to join them for lunch.

"Uh, lunch," replied Robin, smiling.

"Ah, yes, forgive me," smiled Alfred, stepping aside. "Welcome, Mr. Grayson. You'll find Master Wayne on the back deck." The young man's arrival was precisely the worst thing that could have happened.

"Thank you," nodded Robin, slipping past the butler and disappearing into the house.

"A perfect storm," sighed Alfred, closing the door. He headed back for Ella's room to catch her before she realized Robin was there and did something she would regret. "Poor Mr. Grayson," muttered Alfred, "hasn't done a thing wrong but is the villain for the weekend." Alfred stopped. Ella's door was open. He hurried into the room, and a quick look told him no one was there. Bits of sand showed she had put her shoes back on and ran from the room. "Oh dear," he sighed. "I should have insisted we go to Disney World for her birthday."

"You're back," said Ella, stopping outside the door leading to the upper deck above the beach. She glared at Robin and barely managed to fight back the strong urge to slam her head into his stomach.

"Oh! Hello, little friend," grinned Robin, striding around a table that held a sculpture that Ella thought looked like a woman having a heart attack. Robin stuck out his hand, "Another beautiful day in paradise! Your father invited me to lunch today. You'll be joining us, I hope?"

Ella crossed her arms, and Robin chuckled awkwardly, pulling his hand back. Ella glanced out the window to spot Bruce on the deck. "I think my dad forgot to call you," she said. "You're uninvited to lunch. He has some extremely important business matters that you could not possibly wrap your mind around. I'm actually on my way out right now to help talk things over. He bounces stuff like that off of me all the time. Has to do with, um, accounting and engines."

Robin raised an eyebrow, "Accounting and engines? Must be quite the problem your father is dealing with."

He bent over slightly so he was eye-to-eye with Ella and the movement alone made her want to sock him right in the jaw. It made her feel like such a child. Men didn't bend over to be eye-to-eye with women. A stupid boy shouldn't be doing it to her now. It seemed almost more degrading, but she had the sudden urge to stand on a chair to tower above him. She gave in and climbed up on the easy chair beside her, looking down at Robin. "Yeah, it's a big deal," she said. "So I guess we'll see you some other time, pal," she said.

"Do you always stand on chairs?" smirked Robin.

"Yeah, me and Dad do it all the time," nodded Ella. She winced inwardly. That sounded incredibly stupid and fake, and she and Robin both knew it. Now she was acting childish, and Ella blushed at the realization. "So, yeah. Guess you can leave…"

Ella didn't have time to finish before the door opened, and Bruce stepped in. He was looking at Ella but quickly spotted Robin, and his face immediately changed to that of the happy host. "Robin!" he greeted, smiling broadly and shaking the young man's hand. "Welcome! You're in time for lunch."

"I hope you don't mind that I came a little early," smiled Robin, shooting a slightly amused but thoroughly confused glance toward Ella. "I brought those blueprints I mentioned yesterday."

"Oh, fantastic!" said Bruce, throwing an arm around Robin's shoulder. He started to lead the way toward the study but hesitated and held out a hand to Ella. "Blueprints, Ella. Robin has blueprints to show us," he said. "I need you to give me your opinion on them."

She knew he was genuine, but Ella had worked up the courage to accept her father's apology, and stupid Robin had ruined it all by showing up. She shook her head. "No," she said. "You go ahead."

"Oh, come and look, Ella," urged Robin. "Perhaps you'll learn something new." He smirked at her.

Ella's blood boiled. Now she really hated him. "Fine," she said. "But you might learn something new, too." That was the worst comeback of all time. She hurried to Bruce's side and wrapped her arm around him, claiming possession.

Bruce sensed the tension and sighed. This rivalry was precisely what he didn't need right now.

The group of three passed Alfred, who watched with confusion as they entered the study. Bruce turned on the light as Robin pulled some papers from a briefcase and laid them out on the table in the center of the room. Ella pushed up against him, pretending to study the drawings and numbers that made absolutely no sense to her. Bruce rested a hand on her shoulder and shifted some of the papers to get a better look.

"Robin," he said, his voice low, "Is this what I think it is?"

"Sonic warfare," grinned Robin, pointing to something that looked important, but Ella couldn't have identified if she tried.

Bruce whistled, and his grip on Ella's shoulder tightened in excitement. "Say, Robin, this is fantastic," he said. He left Ella's side and went around the table to look over the papers on the far side. "You designed this yourself? How exactly is it used? Is this a…" Bruce stopped, and his face whitened slightly. "This looks like a weapon Batman used."

Robin nodded enthusiastically and grinned, "Yeah. That was for fun when I was designing things. Well, I'm working on it with some friends of mine. It isn't completely my brainpower. That right there is the little Batarang he used to toss around. I just thought it would be funny to incorporate it into that silly fellow's armory while I worked things out."

"Silly fellow?" snapped Ella, her head jerking up. "The Batman is the coolest person in the whole world!"

Robin laughed out loud and nodded, "Yes, whatever you say, Ella. I have no high regard for him, his methods, or practically anything he stands for. I just designed the Batarang for fun."

"Hey!" yelled Ella, slamming her palms against the table. If steam could pour out of a person's ears, smoke would have surrounded Ella. Her face was positively red, and Bruce wasn't sure if it was anger or too much sun from the day before.

"Oh, hey now!" said Bruce, hurrying over and wrapping his arms around Ella. "I know you love Batman, but now is not the time to defend nighttime vigilantes that dress up like bats. Huh?"

Ella was entirely ready to fling herself at Robin and beat the daylights out of him, but she settled for wrapping her fingers around Bruce's arm and squeezing as tightly as she could. He groaned and pinched her bicep.

"So, Robin," said Bruce, recovering the situation as smoothly as he could, "I hate to push you out, but we had something unexpected come up for the afternoon. I meant to call you, but you arrived early, for which I'm glad! It was a pleasure to see the blueprints. Will you join us for a quick lunch?"

"Oh, um, thank you," nodded Robin, confused. "Would you like to examine the blueprints further? I could leave them?"

"Oh, no need for that," said Bruce, gathering them up. "It's just that we leave in a few days, and I'm sure you can find someone who is far more knowledgeable about the entire concept of sonic warfare. I've read a bit but am honestly rather clueless." He handed Robin the papers and led the way from the room, "You heard me go on and on yesterday about my company, but I'll tell you the truth: I'm not the brains. I show up for a few meetings a year and pretend I know what they mean when saying words like biotech. Wayne is a name that holds a lot of weight, and unfortunately, I'm the man with that name…" Bruce's voice faded as the two disappeared around the corner, and Ella watched, raising an eyebrow.

"Wow," she whispered. "That was a fantastic recovery, Dad." She was honestly impressed with how smoothly he had transitioned the conversation from Batman to showcasing his entertainable playboy image. Bruce Wayne was a man of many talents. "Wait, Dad!" she called, chasing after them. "Tell him about how you swam in the fountain at a hotel one time!"

"He sucked," said Ella, smooshing her body as tightly against Bruce's side as she could manage.

"I mean, he didn't suck. He just isn't my favorite person," said Bruce, shifting on the outdoor couch so that Ella wasn't nudging him off the edge. "How does he not agree with anything Batman stands for? He literally fights injustice."

Ella stared at the sunset and breathed deeply, appreciating the ocean air for the second night in a row. "Who is your favorite person?" she asked, tapping on Bruce's knee brace. "It feels like it's bionic."

"What does bionic feel like?" asked Bruce. "You. You are my favorite person."

"Me too," said Ella. "I mean you too. I mean, you're my favorite person. And Alfred."

"Thanks," smiled Bruce. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Pop. Can we go surfing for my birthday? I have a sliver, and it hurts." Ella held up her finger and stared at the tiny piece of wood.

"Alfred can get it out," said Bruce. "Good thing I have surfboards in the shed downstairs."

Bruce kissed her hair as the sun sunk beneath the horizon, and Ella leaned her head back to look up at him, "Did you mean what you said the other night? About training me to be your sidekick?"

"No," said Bruce. He glanced at the door to see if Alfred was listening, then whispered against her ear, "At least not until you're older. But that doesn't mean we can't practice now."

And the reaction that Ella had to that comment alerted Alfred instantly that the wheels were in motion and Bruce had just given the best birthday present she possibly could have received. Ella Wayne: future vigilante. Leaping from the chair and almost throwing herself over the railing with a side flip, her body was in perpetual motion for the next forty seconds as she explained in detail exactly how excited and honored she was.

"Hero, not a vigilante. And sidekick!" corrected Bruce when Ella stopped doing aerials across the deck.

"And I know just what my name will be," Ella grinned, sliding down into a split.

Alfred stepped onto the deck and groaned, "Oh, dear, you've told her, haven't you?"

Ella smirked, the final rays of the sun's glow illuminating her from behind. "Call me Batgirl."

"Absolutely not," said Alfred.

Bruce grinned.

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Just a fun little filler to tease at Robin's character and perhaps some superhero training in the future for our heroin. Thanks for reading!