Chapter Text
“But I’m going to be so bored, all alone in my room,” Jason said.
That didn’t take long. Selina never thought she’d be so happy to hear the kid complain; he almost sounded like himself again.
Jason had been released from the hospital the following night with a lingering headache, a sprained wrist and the strict instructions to be kept on bed rest for several days to avoid a secondary concussion. He was taking all the aches and pains like a champ; it was the mandatory bed rest part Jason wasn’t a fan of.
A fact he’d been pretty vocal about. The entire way home.
Bruce’s solution to Jason’s problem was simple. Elegant, really.
He gave all three boys their bed.
Selina stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, watching Dick and Tim climb into bed on either side of Jason. The lamp on the nightstand gave the room a yellow, hazy glow.
“You’ll have plenty of company now,” Bruce said.
“This is the best you can do, boss?” Jason asked with a smirk, tilting his head toward Dick. With a grin, Dick reached over and pinched Jason’s arm. “Ow, hey, I’m trying to recover here.”
Bruce leveled Dick a warning look, but it wasn’t needed. Ever since Jason woke up in the hospital, an unspoken truce had been called between him and Dick. Stray pinches and nudges aside, they’d been alarmingly sweet with each other.
It was touching. It was off-putting. Selina didn’t expect it to last.
Bruce turned to leave; he’d only taken a couple of steps before Tim called out to him.
“Can you tell us a story?”
It was an unusual request; Tim had never asked either of them for a story before. None of the boys had. Bruce glanced over at Selina. She shrugged, enjoying the bewildered look on his face. He turned around again.
“I...” Bruce said, trailing off; she could hear traces of bemusement in his voice. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know any.”
“That’s not true,” Dick said, shaking his head. “What about the time you climbed a mountain? They haven’t heard that one.”
“A mountain?” Jason asked. “Where?”
“When?” Tim asked.
“Was this before or after you went to prison?”
“Prison? ” Dick said, turning to Jason. Tim’s eyes went wide. From the doorway, Selina snickered.
“But why did you climb a mountain?” Tim asked Bruce.
“To get to the top,” Bruce replied.
Jason snorted. Tim crossed his arms. Dick rolled his eyes.
“You can do better than that, Bruce,” Dick said. “Tell them about the ninjas.”
“There were ninjas? ”
“On the mountain? ”
“There are mountain ninjas? ”
Bruce held up a hand. The boys quieted down as Bruce settled on the edge of the bed.
“It was a long time ago,” he began. Something had changed in his voice; it was steady but far away. The boys’ were hooked by it; they stared at him with captivated eyes. “I was lost, far from home.” Selina found herself leaning against the doorframe, watching their faces in the dim light. “Then a man came and offered me a path.”
Bruce was halfway up the mountain when Selina headed back downstairs. Tim had fallen asleep before she’d left, and if their tired faces were any indication, it wouldn’t be long before Dick and Jason joined him.
All three, home and safe and asleep in a room above her.
Everything as it should be.
Almost.
Selina frowned, pushing the most complicated of her current problems to the back of her mind, turning her thoughts outward to the disaster area that was once her family room.
Gone three days and the place looked like a tornado hit.
With anxious hands and nothing else to do, Selina began straightening, gathering random bits of laundry flung over furniture, the scattered, broken crayons and matchbox cars that littered the floor. She collected old cereal bowls and half-full cups from the coffee table, refolded the throw blanket and nudged the askew couch back into place. She paced and straightened until it began to look like a livable room again.
If only everything was so easy.
She sighed.
“What is it?” Selina let out a gasp before she could stop herself, turning abruptly to the source of the sound. She was met with a half-smirk and dark, smiling eyes, less than a foot away.
Very few people could sneak up on her like that.
“Damn it,” she blurted. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” Bruce asked as he sat down on the arm of the couch, the picture of innocence.
“Lurking,” Selina replied.
“I don’t lurk.” Selina shot him a look. “Fine, I lurk,” he conceded with shrug, a soft smile on his lips. He looked up at her. She held his eyes for a moment before looking away, focusing on arranging throw pillows.
Pillows made sense.
“Down for the count?” she asked. Bruce made a soft, affirmative sound in reply. “I hope you stopped your little story before the part with capes and clowns.” She reached for a stray sock, tossing it over with the rest of the collected laundry, piled high on a chair.
“They were asleep before I finished training,” he replied.
“Just so we’re clear, you’re not planning on telling them about your ‘powerful friend’ any time soon, right?” Selina asked.
“Hadn’t planned to, no.”
“Good,” she said. “Because if somewhere down the line they decided it was OK to play dress-up and fight crime, you and I would have a serious problem.”
“I imagine we would.”
“The kind where I kick your ass all the way back to Gotham.”
“Fully understood.” His face was serious, but the crinkle at the corner of his eyes gave him away.
“Good,” Selina repeated as she looked away. The light atmosphere brought on by their playful banter faded, leaving a lingering silence. Selina avoided his eyes, looking around the room.
There was nothing else to do.
“So,” she said.
“So,” he echoed.
“I figured I’d crash on one of their beds tonight,” Selina said. “But, if you’d rather I leave—”
“No,” Bruce cut her off. She jerked her head up at the abruptness. “Unless you want to,” he amended, softer.
Selina shook her head.
“Then we'll figure it out,” Bruce said. Selina raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “They need you,” he explained. “You and I...” he paused, searching for the words. “We don’t have to be together for you to stay.”
Oh.
“God, you’re an idiot,” Selina muttered. She crossed the space between them before he had a chance to react, leaning in, pulling his face up to meet hers in a single, swift motion.
It was a long moment before she let him up for air.
“Selina—”
“Shut up.” She leaned back, glaring at him. “You're an idiot,” she repeated, her eyes wandering over his face, the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips.
“OK,” he agreed.
“You are also a control freak, pain in the ass.”
“Yes, I am,” he replied, his eyes heavy. He moved closer, but she stopped him, hands flat against his shoulders.
“Don’t just agree with me to get back to the kissing.”
“I’m agreeing with you because you’re right,” he said, smirking. “Pray continue, Ms. Kyle.”
“You're a know-it-all.” Selina tried to keep her face stern, but it cracked in places, betraying her. “It’s obnoxious.”
“That’s very true.”
“You are almost impossible to live with.”
“Noted,” Bruce said. “Anything else?”
I’m in love with you.
“Did I mention the smug, arrogant bastard thing?” she asked. Bruce shook his head, amused. His fingers were soft against the skin of her neck.
“I’ll work on it,” he said. His lips pressed against hers, insistent. She weaved her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.
She wasn’t drifting anymore.
“This is all your fault, you know,” she grumbled when they broke apart, her complaint halfhearted at best.
“I’m not sorry,” Bruce teased back. “Not for that, at least,” he added, softer, more serious. His smile had faded; he traced the curve of her face with his fingertip, lost in thought.
It was enough.
“You’re just going to have find a way to make it up to me,” she said, pulling him back to her. After a moment, Bruce responded, deepening the kiss. She let her hands wander up the back of his shirt, her fingernails trailing across his lower back. His breath hitched at the contact.
They broke away, breathing uneven. She rested her forehead against his before leaning back, meeting his eyes; they’d darkened, intensified. After an endless second, a smirk played on her lips. With one hard shove, Selina pushed him back onto the couch.
“Still rusty?” she asked as she straddled his waist, pinning him down. Bruce shook his head; she caught traces of a smirk on his lips. Steady hands skimmed her thighs, gripped her hips.
“I take it back,” he replied, his smirk softening to a smile. Selina hummed in approval as she traced the line of his jaw, day-old stubble rough against her fingertip.
“I like the sound of that,” she said, leaning closer; he met her halfway, reaching up to cup her face with one hand, running the pad of his thumb down her cheek, across her lips. It lingered there; she pressed a kiss against it, caught in the intensity of his eyes.
That look. Selina knew it, recognized it now.
She smiled, bringing her lips back down to his, her focus narrowing until there was only him.
The next morning, Selina woke uncomfortably warm with a small hand patting her cheek.
“Jason wants eggs.”
“Good morning to you too, Tim,” she mumbled, opening her eyes to see Tim’s very awake little face staring back at her.
“Morning!” Tim replied before repeating, “Jason wants eggs.”
“Yeah, you said that.” Selina yawned, squinting her eyes, her muscles stiffer than normal.
The couch, right.
This wasn’t the first time she’d fallen asleep on the couch, but this was different. The pillow under her head was rigid.
Wait, not a pillow, she realized, glancing down to see Bruce’s arm under her head. His body was wrapped heavy around hers, one arm flung over her waist, utterly still except for his breathing.
He was also naked.
Then again, so was she.
This is not exactly responsible, parent-like behavior, Selina.
At least Bruce had the forethought to pull the blanket over them.
“So what are you, his messenger boy?” she asked Tim, pulling the blanket a bit closer. Tim didn’t seem to notice anything amiss; he nodded happily. Selina shook her head. “Well, message received.” The boy grinned at her before running off. She listened for the sound of his footsteps on the stairs before sitting up.
Or, at least, trying to sit up.
The man had arms like a vice.
Selina wiggled, turning over to look up at Bruce, who was doing a rather poor job of pretending to be asleep. She freed one of her hands and shoved his shoulder.
“Ow,” he muttered.
“I take it you heard the breakfast order,” she said. Bruce nodded, never opening his eyes. His grip loosened as he shifted them both on the couch, keeping her from falling off as he stretched out the arm she’d been laying across and flexed his fingers. She sighed, her head coming down to rest on his chest. “Jason’s going to milk this, isn’t he?” she asked.
“For everything it’s worth, yes,” Bruce replied.
“How long is he on bed rest?”
“A week.” Selina groaned as she moved to get up again. Bruce’s arms held fast. She glanced back at him; his eyes were still closed, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
“They won’t starve,” he mumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep. He pulled her closer. “Five more minutes.”
“You’re awfully friendly this morning,” Selina said, feeling Bruce’s arms wrap around her waist. She smirked even as she kept her eyes on the half-cooked scrambled eggs and crisping bacon on the stove in front of her.
“Do you object?” he asked, his breath warm against her neck, body warm from the shower. She could smell the faintest traces of shaving cream on his skin. Selina found herself leaning back, breathing in deep.
Distracting man.
“Now I didn’t say that,” she replied, setting down the spatula and turning in his arms. She caught a faint smile on his lips before his head dipped down to hers. This time, the kiss was slow, patient. There was none of the frantic need of the night before; he lingered, unhurried. As if there weren’t eggs burning on the stove and three hungry boys upstairs. As if this was the only thing he had to do for the rest of the day.
As if he could stand there and kiss her for the rest of his life.
Selina felt a gentle tug on the back of her shirt. She glanced down to see Tim staring up at them, a wide grin on his face.
“Jason wants bacon too,” he said without preamble. “And Dick asked for an orange.” Selina sighed as a smile pulled at the corners of her lips.
“Tim,” Bruce said as they untangled. “You know you don’t have to run messages for them.”
“I know,” Tim replied. “I like it.” He raced back out of the kitchen.
“That kid,” Selina muttered, shaking her head as she turned back to the stove. She could picture Dick and Jason upstairs waiting for him, with disheveled hair and sleepy faces, the bed all but torn apart after a night of three boys kicking off sheets and drooling on pillows.
“We have three sons,” she said.
“Yes, we do.”
“When did that happen?”
“Florence, two years ago,” Bruce replied as he reached over to steal a piece of bacon. “Then Paris, seven months after that. And Cairo, about five months back.”
“Smart ass.”
Upstairs, they found all three boys in bed, propped up on pillows against the headboard, Jason smack dab in the middle. They barely looked up as she and Bruce entered the room, eyes glued to the TV Dick had, at some point, dragged from his room into theirs. He’d even set up his game system.
Wonderful.
At this rate, they would never get their bedroom back.
Selina looked over Jason with critical eyes as she gave him his pain medication. In spite of all the bruises and cuts from his fall, the wrap around his wrist and the complaints of a headache, Jason seemed perfectly fine. Out of danger. No reason to worry about him.
Selina worried about him anyway.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Jason told her as he reached for one of the plates on the tray in front them, balancing it on his lap. “I was getting tired of cereal.”
Selina snickered, glancing over to where Bruce stood in the doorway.
“I made those grilled cheese sandwiches,” Bruce said.
“Yeah,” Jason replied around a mouthful of eggs. “No offense, B, but those were pretty awful. I gave most of mine to Dick.” Bruce turned to Dick, who shrugged as he reached for his own plate.
“I eat fast,” Dick said, inhaling his orange slices.
“Tim?” Bruce asked. The boy scrunched his nose.
“I’m very glad Selina’s back,” Tim answered.
“Everyone’s a critic,” Bruce muttered, rolling his eyes.
“You are back, right?” Dick asked her, his forehead wrinkling. Selina looked over at him; his face was serious. She nodded, settling down on the edge of the bed next to Tim.
“For good?” Jason pressed, raising an eyebrow.
“For good,” she replied.
“And you’re sure?” Tim asked. Selina reached over, placing a hand on the top of Tim’s head, leaning in close enough for their foreheads to touch. She leveled her eyes with his wide ones, starting into deep, endless blue.
“You’re stuck with me,” Selina said, leaning back again. The smile on Tim’s face grew wider.
“I think we can live with that,” she heard Bruce say behind her. Jason nodded approvingly. Dick let out a long held sigh. Tim’s smile hadn’t faded.
Her boys.
But they weren’t just hers, Selina realized.
She was theirs.
“You know that paperwork we have?” Bruce asked. They stood just outside the master bedroom, kicked out for talking too loud by the three boys watching TV in their bed.
“Which paperwork?” Selina asked, leaning against the wall. “The doctored passports or falsified birth certificates?”
“Actually, I was referring to the marriage license.” Selina raised an eyebrow, watching Bruce rub the back of his neck before continuing. “You wouldn’t be interested in making that particular falsified document legitimate, would you?”
“Mr. Wayne, are you asking me to marry you?”
“Technically speaking, we're already married,” Bruce replied. She tilted her head, waiting for more. “That’s what I was asking, yes,” he admitted, speaking fast. Selina caught a rare, fleeting glimpse of anxiousness on Bruce’s face. She pressed her lips together, keeping the smirk that threatened to cross them at bay. She crossed her arms, narrowed eyes wandering over him, letting the moment linger.
“One condition,” she said at last, watching his lips part as he exhaled.
“Name it.”
She did. Bruce’s smile reached his eyes.
“Done.”
“Alfred, are you watching?” Tim called out for the fifth time.
“Yes, Master Timothy.”
The backyard was bright and green with summer. Alfred sat at the patio table in his panama hat, looking both out of place and not as he watched the boys’ antics from under the shade of an umbrella.
Selina stood off to the side of the porch in a patch of sunlight. The boys had managed to drag both she and Alfred outside to watch them practice handstands. They were pretty persuasive when they wanted to be, with those wide eyes and well-rehearsed pleading looks. None of it fooled Selina, of course, but she’d given in nonetheless.
It was official; she’d gone soft.
“Can you do a handstand, Alfred?” she heard Dick ask.
“Never tried, Master Dick,” Alfred replied. “And I’m certainly not going to attempt one now.”
On Alfred’s first visit, it had taken Dick five seconds to go from shaking the man’s hand to throwing his arms around him in a bear hug. Between that, Jason’s mouth and the overall noise level of all three excited boys combined, Selina had been pretty sure Alfred’s first visit would also be his last.
But the following Sunday, he’d returned. That had been several months ago. Alfred had been back every Sunday since.
“I almost did it that time!” Selina heard Tim say after another unsuccessful attempt at a handstand.
“You leaned over too far,” Jason said, reclined in the grass nearby, the sunlight bringing out hints of red in his messy chestnut hair. “That’s why you keep falling.”
Tim frowned, furrowing his brow.
“Don’t listen to Jason,” Dick said, his voice cheerful. “He can’t even do a handstand.”
“Shut up, I can too.” Jason hopped to his feet to demonstrate, flipping up into a wobbly handstand where he stood. He held it for a few seconds before coming back down. “See?”
“Weak,” Dick said with a smirk. Jason rolled his eyes, huffing as he flopped back down to the ground. “Come on, Tim, try again.” Dick came up beside him. “I’ll spot you.”
Selina watched Tim scrunch his face in concentration as he tried again. This time, Dick was there to catch him before he fell over, keeping him balanced and level until he came back down again.
“I did it!” Tim said, his face sweaty and bright. “Did you see?” he called out louder, looking over at Selina. She nodded.
“One day, I’ll teach you to do walking handstands,” Dick said, flipping up onto his hands with practiced ease, his black hair hanging straight down from his head. He took a few fancy steps forward, bits of grass peeking between his fingers.
“And I’ll teach you not to be such an easy target,” Jason added as he tripped Dick with an outstretched foot. Knocked off balance, Dick tumbled to the ground, but caught himself, rolling to his feet in the same fluid motion. He came to a stop in a crouch a few feet from where he’d come down, his blue eyes narrow but a wide grin on his face.
“You’ll pay for that.”
“Come and get me, brother,” Jason replied, already on his feet.
“Who are we betting on this time?” Selina heard Bruce’s voice behind her as he came out from the house.
“Dick,” she answered, not turning around as she watched Dick and Jason chase each other around the yard. “Then again, Jason’s catching up to him quick.” Selina snickered. “I shudder to think of them evenly matched.”
“It will certainly be interesting,” Bruce replied. She glanced back, catching that familiar gleam in his eyes. Selina shook her head. Her gaze drifted from the boys running in circles to the patio table, where Tim had wandered over to Alfred and was engaging in some serious, six-year-old version of conversation. She glanced at Alfred, who was somehow managing to look both interested and sincere, listening to Tim prattle on.
The man was a saint.
Selina was about to say something to that effect when a sudden wave of uneasiness in her stomach had her pursing her lips together.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked with a lowered voice as he stepped up behind her. His arms wrapped around her waist, as natural as breathing. Selina huffed.
“You mean besides the overwhelming nausea and irrational anxiety? Fantastic,” she quipped, shaking her head even as a smile she couldn’t entirely contain played at the corners of her lips. A new thought hit her; she made a face. “What if we don’t like this one?”
“Selina.”
“I’m serious,” she said, even though she wasn’t. “No one gets lucky four times in a row.” Selina glanced back over the boys scattered across the backyard. “He could turn out to be a complete monster.”
“Could be a she,” Bruce replied, his breath soft against her ear.
“Oh, God, that’s even worse.” She could feel Bruce chuckle silently behind her.
“It’ll be fine,” he said. Selina let herself lean back; his head came to rest against her shoulder. “As I understand it, you are very adaptable.”
A smirk tugged at her lips.
“I’ve certainly had enough practice,” she replied, searching for his hand. She intertwined their fingers, felt him smile at the contact.
Out in the yard, Dick caught up to Jason, tackling him to the ground with a soft thud. She and Bruce watched as the two boys rolled around in a harmless flurry of arms and legs, fierce grins on their faces as they endlessly one-upped each other, getting filthy and grass-stained in the process.
“Don’t worry, Alfred,” she heard Tim’s voice from across the patio. “They’re just pretend fighting.”
Selina smiled. Her uneasiness ebbed, fading away.
“I never thanked you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Taking me to the circus.”
“It wasn’t a circus,” Bruce replied. Selina glanced back. His dark eyes gleamed mischievous. “It was performance art.”