Work Text:
Duke had seen many strange things since joining the family — rooftop sword fights over snacks, Tim mixing energy drinks like a mad scientist, Dick swinging from chandeliers, Jason hiding stolen contraband in the Manor — but nothing, compared to the current conversation in at Wayne Manor.
“So,” Duke said, eyes narrowing, “you’re all trying to convince Bruce to let you take the Batjet to Tokyo.”
“Correct,” Tim said from his spot on the couch. “For mission purposes.”
Jason leaned back in his chair. “Translation: vacation.”
“And Bruce said no,” Duke confirmed.
“In about four different languages,” Dick sighed from his spot on the rug. “He’s in a mood.”
“Then why,” Duke asked, “are you all sitting here like you still have a plan?”
Jason smirked. “Because we do.”
Damian nodded solemnly. “A manipulative one. We don't like resorting to such measures, but Father is being difficult. We have no choice.”
Duke looked at the boys, feeling fear rise within him. "I don't like this.
"Don't be. It's harmless." Tim reassured. “We call it Sister Power.”
Duke's fear deflated. “Sister… power? What does that even mean?”
Damain crossed his arms. "You haven't been here long Thomas, but surely you've noticed that Father has a clear favoritism towards Cassandra and [Name]."
Duke frowned, thinking it over. “I… can’t say that I have.”
Jason shook his head, an amused smirk on his face. "Bruce is a total girl dad. He loves his sons we know that. But the way he treats his girls is on a whole different level."
"It's either hilarious or ridiculous," Tim added. "There is no in between."
Duke looked between them, pure disbelief painted on his face. “Oh come on!”
Dick got up from his spot on the floor and took a seat next to Duke on the couch. “Trust us on this. Before Bruce, we were all only children. We didn’t know what favoritism looked like. But when it came to [Name], it was obvious. She’s his favorite. And when Cass came along?” Dick grinned. “We realized Bruce Wayne is Gotham’s Ultimate Girl Dad.”
Duke still looked unconvinced. "I still think you guys are being dramatic."
"Okay," Dick got comfortable in his seat. "Here's a story for you."
The look in his eyes shifted — that particular mix of nostalgia and disbelief that only came from living in Wayne Manor too long…
…Bruce had been on an important Wayne Enterprises video call — one of those tense board meetings where everyone looked like they’d rather be filing their taxes in a hurricane. Ten people on-screen, all stiff suits and monotone voices.
He sat at his mahogany desk in his home office, posture perfect, expression unreadable. The laptop camera framed him neatly: Gotham’s most stoic CEO, unbothered and intimidating.
Then the office door creaked open.
You stepped inside first, dressed in your pajamas and holding your phone like it was a sacred artifact. “Dad, what color should I paint my nails?”
The question dropped into the silence like a bomb.
Every executive froze. Someone coughed. Another adjusted their tie.
Bruce didn’t even flinch. “Hmm,” he murmured, eyes still on the screen. “Let me see.”
You walked around the desk, showing him your phone. “Jade green, sage green, or emerald green?”
“Sage,” Bruce said simply, then unmuted himself. “Apologies, Lucius, continue.”
Lucius barely managed to keep a straight face.
And then Cassandra appeared, also in her pajamas and a blanket over her shoulders. She pulling up a chair and sitting on Bruce’s right side. She didn’t say a word, just took a seat and started sketching little doodles on the corner of his notepad.
Bruce let her. Of course he did.
Half the board looked shocked. The other half looked terrified.
At one point, you pulled up another chair and sat on his left. You leaned against Bruce’s arm, scrolling through your phone while he calmly discussed profit margins like this was the most normal thing in the world.
When the call finally ended, Bruce closed his laptop and looked between you two.
Cass showed him the picture she drew. A series of Batman doodles but they were vague black blobs with pointy ears and eyes.
“Very nice,” he said simply.
Cass smiled. You nodded, satisfied.
And just like that, Gotham’s most powerful businessman spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in a posh nail salon while his daughters got their matching sets…
…Back in the present, Dick spread his hands like he’d just presented irrefutable evidence.
“So yeah,” he said with a grin. “Bruce Wayne. Billionaire. Dark Knight. Total pushover.”
Jason leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, that confident grin already forming.
“Oh,” he said, voice low and dramatic. “You think that’s bad? Lemme tell you about the time your sweet sisters nearly totaled the Batmobile.”
Duke blinked. “What—”
But Jason was already lost to memory, the glint in his eye shifting from smug amusement to pure disbelief…
…It had started as “training.”
You decided it was time for you to learn how to handle the Batmobile. Cass had already mastered evasive maneuvers and parking. You? You were still stuck on the fun part — the speed. And Cass decided to give you a hand since Bruce was busy upstairs.
“Slow and steady,” Cass said calmly from the passenger seat, hands clasped in her lap. “You need to respect the vehicle.”
You grinned, revving the engine. “Respect, got it.”
She gave you a look. “That’s not what I—”
Before Cass could finish, the Batmobile shot forward. The roar of the engine echoed through the cave like thunder. You swerved—way too fast—and slammed the brakes so suddenly that the entire car jolted forward and crashed into the rock wall with a teeth-rattling BANG!
Then a faint plop as a stalactite somewhere dislodged and fell into the water.
Cass exhaled through her nose. “You okay?”
You nodded, dazed. “I think I saw my life flash before my eyes.”
The noise had echoed through the cave like an explosion. Within seconds, the cavalry arrived. Jason appeared first, half in his gear, looking way too delighted for someone who just heard a crash.
“Oh my god—” he wheezed, doubled over laughing. “You—you wrecked the Batmobile!”
You groaned, pressing your forehead against the steering wheel. Cass, to her credit, sat perfectly still, expression unreadable except for the tiniest twitch of amusement at the corner of her mouth.
A few seconds later, heavy footsteps approached — Bruce’s.
The laughter died instantly.
He stopped in front of the Batmobile, arms crossed, jaw tight. His eyes scanned the damage — smoke, dented metal, a tire barely hanging on.
Jason braced himself for the explosion. This was it. The Bat-yell. The lecture. The grounding for life.
But Bruce didn’t yell. He just opened the driver’s door and crouched down beside you. “Are you okay?”
You blinked. “Yeah… I think so.”
He nodded once, standing back up. “Good. That’s what matters.”
Jason stared at him, stunned. “That’s what matters?”
Bruce ignored him, inspecting the front bumper. “I should’ve explained the braking system better.”
Jason’s mouth fell open. “You’re apologizing?”
Bruce stood, calm as ever. “The car can be repaired. Though next time, I’ll supervise your training.” He shot a not-at-all serious glare at Cass.
Cass smiled back at him. “She learns fast.”
Bruce actually smiled back. “I know.”
Two days later, two new cars showed up in the cave. Smaller. Sleeker. Modified for “practice.”
Cass got to pick the color. Midnight blue. “Stealthy,” she’d said. "And there are two so we can match!"
Jason had never been so personally offended…
…Back in the living room, Jason leaned back in his chair, smirk broad and satisfied.
“And that,” he said, “is how the twins of chaos crashed a billion-dollar car and somehow got rewarded for it.”
Duke blinked. “Matching luxury cars is crazy!”
Dick crossed his arms. “He didn’t talk to me for a week when I popped a tire.”
Damian was fuming in his chair. "I've known how to drive since I was eight! And he won't let me drive!"
Tim sighed, leaning back against the couch. “You’ve heard Dick’s corporate chaos and Jason’s vehicular tragedy. Now let me tell you about the time Bruce tried to be a responsible parent… for less than two hours…"
…It started with an argument.
You had snuck out of the Manor one night — nothing reckless, just a spur-of-the-moment visit to your friend’s house party. Cass had gone with you, not wanting to miss any fun. All Bruce saw were empty rooms, the silent tracker, and the security footage of the two of you hopping a fence in Gotham at 11:47 p.m.
The next morning, Bruce called both of you into the living room.
He stood there, arms crossed, voice firm. “You both know better,” he said. “You’re grounded. No missions, no patrol, no going out for a week.”
Cass accepted her fate, but she didn't look happy about it.
You tried to argue. “But Dad, it was a small party! Only like, thirty people were there!”
Bruce’s eyebrow twitched. “You broke curfew.”
“We were expanding our cultural awareness by interreacting with the unique Gotham youth!”
He didn’t budge. Cass put a hand on your arm — the unspoken don’t push it gesture — and the two of you retreated upstairs.
Tim had been in the corner the entire time, pretending to look at his phone, but watching everything. He nodded approvingly.
Finally! Consistency. Discipline. A real rule enforced and punishment given when rules were broken.
That lasted exactly one hundred and ten minutes and thirty-nine seconds.
Around noon, Tim heard footsteps on the stairs. You appeared first, dressed casually, hair done, purse over your shoulder. Cass followed, calm as ever, keys in one hand, and a homemade latte in the other.
Bruce looked up from his seat as you both approached.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Out,” you said simply. “We’re meeting our friends for lunch.
"Don’t wait up,” Cass shouted cheerfully.
Bruce blinked once. “Alright. Be safe.”
Tim nearly dropped his coffee, but did drop his jaw.
You leaned down, kissed Bruce on the cheek, and walked out the door like nothing was wrong.
Bruce went back to reading the Gotham Gazette as if he hadn’t just undone his own punishment.
Tim sat frozen in the his seat for a solid thirty seconds before finally blurting, “Bruce! They're grounded!”
Bruce didn’t even look up. “Oh. Right.”
A beat of silence.
“And are they still grounded?” Tim pressed.
Bruce turned a page. “I’ll revisit it later.”
He didn’t…
…Back in the living room, Tim pinched the bridge of his nose.
“So, yeah,” he muttered. “Grounded for a week. Gone in less than two hours. When they came back they told Bruce all about it.”
Jason was already grinning. “I still can’t believe you thought he’d enforce it.”
“Can you blame me for hoping?” Tim asked flatly. “He grounded me once for forgetting to eat dinner. He said it was ‘self-neglect.’ ”
Dick laughed. “Bruce’s logic when it comes to his daughters exists in another dimension.”
Duke just stared at them, slack-jawed. “He really just… let them go? Unbelievable.”
Damian straightened, expression carved from pure suffering. “My father’s hypocrisy knows no bounds,” he began solemnly. “Observe."…
…It began, as these tragedies often did, with good intentions — his, specifically.
Damian had always adored animals. He rescued them, rehabilitated them, even smuggled a few injured strays back to the Manor. Each time, Bruce had said the same thing: “No more animals in the house, Damian.”
A reasonable rule, perhaps. Until they got involved.
It was a quiet Sunday when it happened. Damian had just finished training when he heard you and Cassandra’s laughter echoing through the main hall.
“What the…” he muttered. He turned the corner and froze when he saw the animal. "What is the meaning of this!"
You and Cass turned to look at the boy. You immediately went into defensive mode.
"Damian you don’t get it," you began.
Damian grinned like he had a checkmate in chess. "Father is going to be livid when he sees this."
You clasped your hands together, pleading for sympathy from your younger brother. "She was all alone Damian! Scared and defenseless! Stuck in a tree and in need of help!'
"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Damian urged. "You did not find a ZEBRA stuck in a tree."
Cass hugged the Zebra like Damian would take her away any moment. “We named her Wonder Zebra! Diana has to know we named this majestic creature after her.”
Damian blinked. “You cannot be serious.”
Cass smiled at their new companion. “She’s calm and has good energy.”
“Good energy?!” Damian gestured wildly. “She’s a zebra, not a therapy dog!”
The zebra snorted and began nibbling at one of Bruce’s antique rugs.
You gently patted her neck. “She’s just hungry. Poor thing’s been through enough.”
At that exact moment, Bruce came down the stairs. Damian folded his arms, relief flooding him — finally, someone rational.
“Father,” he announced, “they’ve brought home a wild animal. I assume you’ll handle this.”
Bruce stopped halfway down, taking in the scene: his daughters, his ruined carpet, and a striped fugitive from the Gotham Zoo. A long silence followed.
“Girls,” he said finally, “where did you find it?”
“We were just walking down the street and she was stranded Dad!” you answered innocently. “All alone stuck on the unforgiving streets that would corrupt her! We had to save her and give her a loving home!"
Bruce nodded once, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “And you want to keep her?”
Cass nodded. "She can't go back out there. She's clearly been raised in captivity. She won't survive on her own. And I've seen the neighbor's lawn, the grass is fake!"
Damian smirked. “He’ll say no.”
But Bruce didn’t say no. He pulled out his phone.
“Father?” Damian asked, horrified. “What are you doing?”
“Calling the zoo,” Bruce said simply. “We’ll make the proper arrangements.”
Ten minutes later, Bruce Wayne owned a zebra.
Later that day, a new enclosure was being built on the property. Alfred was giving instructions to the contractors as Cass brushed the Wonder Zebra's mane. You gave Bruce's large body the tightest hug you could manage.
Damian stood at the fence, glaring at Bruce. “You said no more animals.”
Bruce just sipped his coffee. “I said no more unapproved animals.”
Damian gestured wildly toward the zebra. “How is this approved?!”
Bruce shrugged. “It’s domesticated now.”
You handed him an apple slice. “Want to feed her, Dad?”
Bruce smiled. “Sure.”
Damian groaned. “This is absurd!”…
…Back in the living room, Damian crossed his arms with righteous indignation.
“So yes, Thomas, Father not only allowed them to keep a zebra, he bought it. Within the hour.”
Duke blinked. “...A real zebra?”
“It took six months for Alfred to convince Bruce to give Wonder Zebra back to the zoo,” Jason said. "He still owns her but Alfred got sick of her eating his roses."
Tim leaned forward, smirking. “So now you get it, right? The favoritism?”
Duke ran a hand down his face. “I’m starting to think Bruce doesn’t parent them—he just funds their adventures.”
Dick laughed. “Welcome to the Wayne family.”
Night had settled over Wayne Manor, the kind of quiet stillness that felt almost suspicious after years of living with vigilantes. The boys had spent hours brainstorming ways to convince Bruce. They needed a backup plan in case you and Cass decided to not help them.
Duke shook his head. “There’s gotta be some situation where Bruce says no to them.”
Tim raised a brow. “If there is a limit, we haven't reached it yet.”
Damian, ever the realist, folded his arms. “Perhaps tonight will be the exception. Father returned home not long ago from his date with Selina. He is… preoccupied.”
Dick looked at him. "How do you know?"
"I saw them while I was in the kitchen getting a drink. Father grabbed some wine and two glasses and left with her," Damian clarified.
Jason grinned. “Oh, so the Bat and the Cat are having their little romantic rooftop debrief, huh?”
“Not on the rooftop,” Damian said flatly. “They went in the direction of his bedroom.”
That earned a collective grimace.
Dick coughed. “Okay, boundaries. Ew. But fine — if there’s ever a time he’s gonna draw the line, it’s now.”
“Exactly,” Tim said. “He won't let anyone interrupt his…"adult time"… with Selena. ”
Jason leaned back, smug. “Yeah, no way he’s getting out of bed for anyone right now.”
The universe heard them — and laughed. Because just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the hall.
Cass’s quiet footsteps were unmistakable. Yours weren’t — you were humming, the sound bright and careless. Both of you held dozens of shopping bags in your arms. The glossy bags cutting into your arms didn't dampen your moods one bit.
"Hi guys," Cass said casually.
"Have you seen Dad," you asked. "We want to show him our haul."
The brothers exchanged nervous looks.
“Relax,” Tim whispered. “Even Bruce has limits.”
Jason looked at the both of you, a confident smirk etched on his face. "Bruce and Selena are in his bedroom. If you catch my drift…?"
You and Cass looked at each other. The boys couldn’t read your expressions, but you two shared that silent understanding only sisters could. You both dropped your shopping bags with synchronized thuds, expensive logos scattering across the floor.
Jason blinked. “Oh, no. No way. You two aren’t actually—”
But you two were already marching down the hall.
Tim groaned into his hands. “They’re doing it.”
Duke whispered, “He's going to say no to them. This has to be the night.”
Dick felt himself flinch. "They're going to be devastated. Their first 'no' ever."
Damian sighed, defeated. “They're going to need comforting. Let's have snacks and movies ready for them.”
The boys moved to the kitchen like they were preparing someone's final meal.
Somewhere upstairs, faint music played — soft jazz, far too romantic for Wayne Manor’s usual gloom. You and Cass walked in perfect step, as if you were on a mission of personal vengeance.
By the time you reached Bruce’s door, the muffled sound of laughter and low voices confirmed your suspicion.
You knocked firmly. “Daaaad?”
Silence. Then a shuffle. Then hushed voices.
You frowned. “Dad?”
Cass added, “We need to show you something.”
More frantic movement followed. Then, Selina’s voice — unmistakably irritated — came through the door. “Bruce, don’t you dare—”
Too late. The door opened.
Bruce stood there in a black silk robe, hair a little disheveled, a light layer of sweat clinging to his skin, trying very hard to look like a man who hadn’t just been interrupted.
“Hi, girls,” he said evenly, the faintest edge of guilt in his voice.
You beamed. “Hi, Dad! We're done shopping!”
Cass excitedly bounced on her toes. “We bought a lot things.”
Behind him, Selina groaned. “Of course you did.”
You stepped forward, undeterred. “They had a sale at Cartier. And Cass found perfume that smells like Gotham rain.”
Cass nodded seriously. “It does not. It smells like Gotham in the summer.”
Bruce managed a smile. “That’s great girls.”
You peeked past him. “Hi, Selina!”
Selina sat up, the sheets pulled strategically high, and a forced smile on her face. "Hello girls. I'd come up to greet you but your Dad and I are very busy right now."
Cass tilted her head. “Busy?”
You blinked innocently. “Busy with what?”
Selina groaned again. “Unbelievable.”
You tugged one Bruce's sleeve. “Anyway, we wanted to show you what we got!”
Cass tugged Bruce's other sleeve. "And you have to smell the perfume and tell [Name] I'm right."
Bruce hesitated, eyes darting to Selina’s glare, then back to your hopeful expression and Cass' pleading look.
He sighed. “Alright. Let me make myself decent.”
Selina buried her face in her hands. “You. Are. Hopeless.”
You leaned up to kiss Bruce’s cheek. “Love you, Dad! You’re the best.”
Cass gave a small nod. “We'll wait for you in the living room.”
You both turned and padded down the hall.
Behind the closed door, Selina glared, “What about me?”
Bruce raised a brow. “What about you?”
Selina stared like he’d just committed a crime against humanity, but Bruce only walked to his closet and pulled out some clothes.
The boys had set up the living room to perfection. Popcorn bowls with 5 different flavors. Ice cream tubs with dozens of toppings. Blankets. A carefully queued movie.
Jason stared at the spread and sighed. “Feels like we’re prepping for heartbreak.”
Duke took a sip of one of the soda cans, letting the fizz calm his nerves. "Because we are."
Tim checked his phone. “It’s been ten minutes. No screaming, no crying, no door slamming.”
Dick frowned. “It’s the quiet before the storm.”
Damian poured a glass of water with grim solemnity. “Father may require this after the confrontation.”
Jason snorted. “It's a bittersweet night boys.”
Then they heard it. Two sets of footsteps heading their way, quick and heavy.
The boys turned toward the sound just in time to see you and Cass descend the stairs — all smiles and laughter — followed by Bruce Wayne himself, now in gray pajama set and matching slippers.
Dick blinked. “Oh my god. He actually came downstairs.”
Jason squinted. “In his pajamas and matching slippers!”
Bruce looked utterly unfazed. “You said you had something to show me?”
You and Cass nodded enthusiastically and began unloading your shopping bags onto the every available surface like a luxury-themed magic trick.
Perfume. Jewelry boxes. Clothes. Shoes. Half of Gotham’s economy.
Cass held up the perfume bottle. “Smell this. Tell her I’m right.”
Bruce leaned down obediently, smelling the sample strip you held out. “Cass is right. It smells like Gotham in summer.”
You gasped, offended. “What? No way! It’s totally Gotham rain!”
He smiled faintly. “Sorry honey.”
Jason muttered under his breath, “He’s so whipped.”
Tim, deadpan, “This isn’t even parenting anymore. It’s diplomacy.”
Cass handed Bruce another bag. “Look inside.”
He peered in. “A suede jacket?”
You nodded proudly. “For you! We saw it and immediately thought of you.”
Bruce’s expression softened — genuinely touched. “Thank you.”
You smiled, satisfied, then added casually, “Oh! And we’re borrowing the Batjet next week. Tokyo trip.”
Jason choked on his drink. “You’re what!?”
Bruce didn’t even flinch. “File the flight plan first.”
Tim slammed his hand on the counter. “Are you serious?!”
Bruce looked at him calmly. “Always.”
The boys went dead silent. The sound of you and Cass giggling and rummaging through your bags filling the air.
Then Dick groaned, throwing his hands up. “I give up.”
Jason dragged a hand down his face. “He was in bed with Catwoman and still said yes.”
Duke muttered weakly, “We did this whole set up for nothing.”
Damian glared at his father. “Father, you are an embarrassment to the concept of discipline.”
Bruce looked around the room, expression neutral. “You all finished?”
The boys collectively mumbled variations of yeah, whatever, as you and Cass started showing your things again, talking happily. The boys abandoned the movie and started eating the food they prepared, drowning their defeat in calories.
The haul went on for three hours before the sisters disappeared down the hall with their things. Bruce watched them go, an unmistakable fondness softening his features.
Jason folded his arms. “You do realize they’ve got you completely wrapped around their fingers, right?”
Bruce’s lips quirked. “I know.”
Selina appeared at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, still in silk and absolute disbelief. “You’re impossible.”
Bruce gave her a small, unapologetic smile. “I’m a father.”
Selina sighed, rolling her eyes — but the corner of her mouth twitched. “A hopeless one.”
Bruce took her hand and lead her back upstairs, slippers soft against the wood floor. “Goodnight, boys.”
The room fell silent for a moment before Duke exhaled. “I can’t believe he’s the same guy who terrifies the Justice League.”
Dick laughed softly, looking toward the staircase. “That’s our dad.”