“Bring Your Kids to Work Day.”

The words alone were enough to make every Wayne Enterprise board member sweat.

Everyone had assumed Bruce would skip it. The man was basically allergic to anything that sounded remotely domestic. But, in true Gotham fashion, chaos always found a way.

And that’s how the most terrifyingly powerful CEO in the city ended up walking into the Wayne Tower lobby with all of his children trailing behind him.

It started deceptively calm.

Dick led the way, all sunshine and dimples, effortlessly charming every single employee he passed. HR reps, receptionists, random interns — they all melted under his grin. Every “Good morning!” from him made the entire floor collectively swoon. He even stopped to compliment someone’s mug and ask about a project he had no idea about, leaving the poor guy blushing and stammering like he’d just been knighted.

Jason, naturally, wasn’t far behind. Leather jacket, sleeves rolled, grin sharp enough to kill. Every woman under forty suddenly had an “urgent reason” to pass through the lobby. A few nearly walked into pillars because they were too busy staring. He didn’t help, of course — smirking, throwing in a lazy wink here and there like he was starring in his own perfume commercial.

Tim was trailing beside you, coffee in one hand, tablet in the other. The two of you had fallen into your usual rhythm — tossing around words like “interface calibration” and “firmware runtime” while Bruce’s staff quietly tiptoed away from the conversation like it was black magic.

“Is this English?” one intern whispered to another.

“Barely,” came the reply.

Meanwhile, Cass was in full silent-stalker mode, gliding around the cubicles with all the grace of an assassin. She wasn’t doing anything — just… existing quietly. Which somehow made her twice as terrifying. Every time someone tried to make small talk, she’d just tilt her head and blink. HR had collectively decided to avoid eye contact.

And then there was Damian.

The four-year-old menace sat comfortably on Bruce’s lap in his father’s massive office chair, legs swinging, little brows furrowed in deep concentration as he stared at a stack of paperwork. His tiny voice carried through the room.

“This number doesn’t add up.”

Bruce looked up, slightly startled, and followed the miniature hand pointing to a financial report. Sure enough, the column was off by one decimal point.

“...Huh.”

Tim nearly choked on his coffee. “He’s auditing your company.”

Dick burst out laughing. “The prodigy strikes again!”

Jason threw himself into the nearest chair, smirking. “Guess the kid just earned himself a paycheck.”

Bruce gave a long-suffering sigh but didn’t argue. He just adjusted his tie and handed Damian another document.

For the rest of the morning, the entire building buzzed with disbelief.

The oldest Wayne boy had turned the office into a meet-and-greet, the second had started a fan club without trying, the youngest was correcting corporate math, the middle ones were knee-deep in tech talk that made NASA look simple, and Bruce Wayne — Gotham’s stoic billionaire — sat behind his desk like this was just another Tuesday.

By lunchtime, even the most serious board members had given up pretending this was normal. One intern swore they saw Bruce smile. Twice.

When Alfred came to pick Damian up, the kid refused to leave until Bruce promised to “review his findings.” Jason and Dick were arguing over who got to pick the lunch spot. Tim was halfway through explaining quantum encryption to you, and Cass had silently appeared beside the elevator, making two interns nearly scream.

It was complete and utter chaos.

But for the first time in a long time… Bruce didn’t mind.

He glanced around at his disaster of a family — the laughter, the teasing, the warmth in the sterile glass office — and felt the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.

Wayne Enterprises had never been louder. Never been messier. Never been more alive. And somehow, it felt exactly right.