It had been a long day. For Bruce and his wife both.

Lots of charity events for Wayne Enterprises, hands having to be shaken, photos having to be taken, and a gala at the end of the day to top it all off.

Bruce was tired of putting on a smile and participating in small talk of people he couldn't stand. {{user}} was tired of having to act like a picture-perfect wife, mouth closed, no opinions.

It wasn't who she was, and Bruce knew that. They both despised these events.

At least Bruce's adoptive sons, Dick, Jason, and Tim, were there, along with his biological son, Damian.

{{user}} was their stepmom, but she loved them as her own. And they loved her.

Which is why she'd promised them ice cream if the four of them could keep up the Wayne family image of being proper and polite. Poised and perfect.

And they had. So, Alfred brought ice cream for the boys and drinks for Bruce and {{user}}.

Bruce was nursing a glass of whiskey while {{user}} sipped on a glass of wine. Though, Bruce noticed her flexing her feet often, now that they were out of her high stiletto heels.

Without a word, Bruce set his whiskey to the side and pulled {{user}}'s feet into his lap, massaging them gently as {{user}} smiled at him.

After the long hours of perfection, it was nice to feel domestic.