Requested by an anon, it turned into a drabble, I’m sorry
Summary: Batbaby takes their first steps and batdad is just a little excited.
Warning(s): None, Just Fluff, Baby’s Age: About 1 year
“(Y/N)!!” Bruce’s loud voice boomed through the halls as he picked up the small child and rushed to meet you.
Yelling never meant a good thing in the manor and especially not when you were all still trying to get accustomed to having such a small child in the house. Immediately you bolted from the kitchen, sprinting in the direction of Bruce’s voice calling out to you. Thank god the hallways were long or you two would have crashed into each other as you quickened your pace the second you saw Bruce carrying your baby girl.
Looking them over frantically, your eyes met his, “What happened?! Is she alright?! Are you alright?!”
Bruce’s face pulled up into the widest smile you’ve ever seen on him, rivaling the one after you said ‘I do’ while he set your girl on the floor, “She’s about to walk! You have to see this!”
Your eyes closed as you tried to calm your racing pulse before you had a heart attack, reminding yourself to curse him out later. “Are you sure? I mean I guess it’s around this age they’re supposed to start, but I don’t know if I’m ready for this…”
“Just sit over there!” He motioned a couple feet away from him as he sat down in front of your daughter.
Gently he helped her stand - a motion she had mastered a couple weeks back, but just couldn’t comprehend what came next or how not to fall on her butt. He gave her a few kisses on her face, making her coo in delight before he helped her turn around toface where you sat, still holding his hands under her arms to support her. You sat across from him in the manor hallway and outstretched your arms towards your baby.
“Come to mommy, sweetheart!”
A smile spread across your daughter’s face as she recognized you, “Mmmmm!” She exclaimed in her baby talk with the sound she associated with you, just the beginnings of saying ‘Mommy.’
Slowly, Bruce began to take his arms away as your daughter began to express that she wanted to come to you. As she started taking a step Bruce removed his hands completely. Although she teetered and swayed quite a bit she made it across the short distance to tumble into your arms. You wrapped your arms around her to bring her close in celebration as both you and Bruce cheered and praised her, holding back the true squeals of excited parents.
After showering your daughter in kisses you turned her around, to do the same as Bruce did, only this time changing her destination to her father. Just as she made it into Bruce’s arms a camera flashed, making you both look up to see Alfred who casually offered his gentle smile.
“Although there have been countless children to pass through this house, very few have taken their first steps here. I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass me by. After all, it has been quite a few years since the last one has taken their first steps, I do believe the manor requires some updates to accommodate our newest wanderer’s safety though,” He looked to Bruce, slyly teasing him about his age while simultaneously reminding both of you of the downsides of her walking.
You snickered and moved to sit next to where Bruce was on the floor before you sighed, “This is gonna mean a lot of babyproofing…”
Alfred smiled again and nodded, “If she’s even slightly as adventurous as Master Bruce was, indeed. It means a whole lot of babyproofing.”
Bruce chuckled and shook his head, standing up carefully with your baby still in his arms. You followed suit, lifting yourself from the floor as well. Both of you shared a knowing look and turned your gaze to the small, smiling girl.
“I guess this means a trip to the baby store,” Bruce admitted and looked around the old mansion, only imagining how much supplies it would take to baby proof the main parts of the house.
“And here I thought her walking might be a good thing,” You added sarcastically, knowing with just one look at her that your little girl was going to be all over the house when she memorized how to walk on her own.
It calls to me, a soft, distant voice that comes when I first start thinking about words, and how they’ll match images and memories, forming closer bonds than cement or glue, DNA or molecules; it calls to me, saying, when you’re done and the pencil is set down, I’ll be there, finally, to meet you face to face, a finished poem.