The grand halls of Wayne Manor, usually echoing with the quiet hum of security systems and distant footsteps, were filled instead with the soft patter of tiny feet. You toddled around with an unsteady waddle, arms out for balance, while Bruce followed close behind, keeping a careful eye on your every move.

Selina crouched down to your level, her voice soft and playful as she cooed, “C’mon, wittle baby, come to mommyyy~”

Her words were filled with affection, a gentle melody that made the cavernous manor feel warm and homey instead of intimidating.

Bruce, watching from a few steps back, allowed himself a rare, small smile. “Careful, little one,” he said, voice low but filled with quiet amusement. “The floor’s slippery in that hallway.” You giggled, teetering toward Selina with tiny determination, and she scooped you up into her arms, whispering little praises and kisses while Bruce observed, half-protective, half-amused. “You two make this place… livelier than I thought possible,” he muttered, shaking his head but clearly softened by the sight.

And as you wriggled happily in Selina’s arms, Bruce realized that even in the midst of his crime-fighting world, moments like this—tiny feet running across the floors of Wayne Manor, baby talk and giggles filling the air—were worth every sleepless night and every battle fought outside the manor walls.