Work Text:
Tiffany could still remember the look of horror that ran over Roman’s face when she told him about Daria. The idea of fatherhood seemed a wrong thing for him, the pursuit of other men, better men. Not him. Not a man for whom fatherhood was a mask made of oak and black lacquer, whose perception of parenthood was cold silence and whispers of reputation.
It sat in the back of her mind at times like this. Roman, who once dreaded fatherhood, had sat Daria in the crook of his crossed legs, looking out on the city through the penthouse windows. Each landmark noted was repeated in the lisping holler of a girl who had barely crested four.
Whatever hesitance Roman had held onto, it fled when he first held Daria in his arms, when she first smiled his way. Tiffany had felt relieved, even if some part of her remembered that dread.
“Moooooommy!” Daria hollered, then scrambled up to her feet as best the poofy pink dress she'd insisted on would allow. Roman eventually had to pick her up and place her beside him so she was on her feet. “Mommy, I want to go to the–” Daria stopped and looked at Roman for guidance. Roman whispered the phrase back to her and she echoed it, loudly, “THE NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM!”
Tiffany looked at Roman, who gave her a smile that had a hint of where this was going.
“Sure, sweetheart,” Tiffany nodded. “We can go tomorrow.”
“And Daddy has to come too,” Daria added, pointing to Roman. “Tell him he has to come too.”
Tiffany looked again to Roman, who was trying very hard not to laugh and said, “Daria says you have to come too.”
“You know, I'm not totally sure Cobblepot will let me in,” Roman admitted, scooping up Daria like a sack of potatoes and unfolding to his feet. “Especially after last week.”
Daria squealed, kicking her feet as Roman swung her around and placed her on the barstool across from Tiffany. Roman settled on the back of the chair and ruffled Daria’s hair until she smacked his hand away.
“And you think this is not persuasive enough?” Tiffany asked, gesturing to Daria.
“For Oswald? Absolutely not. I’m pretty sure Oswald thinks children are loud snot factories.”
“I can make snot,” Daria announced, looking up at Roman.
“I know Dare-bear,” Roman said. “You are not making your case.”
“I want a lawyer,” Daria replied.
Roman sighed and started carefully straightening the hair he’d just messed up. His face was setting into an irritated scowl. He was actually thinking about the logistics of joining them now, as if they could get in the door without him.
Oswald was not especially endeared to Tiffany, a woman that neither took his shit nor needed to. As already established, he was not particularly fond of children, and Daria was not everyone’s idea of a well-behaved child. The only person that could actually talk Oswald into letting them in, barring peer pressure, was Roman.
“What happened?” Tiffany asked.
“Nothing I’m repeating in front of Daria,” Roman answered. “She is going to think Cobblepot is a weird old man for as long as I can possibly manage.”
“Aided, I presume, by the fact that he is a weird old man?” Tiffany guessed.
“I want to meet the weird old man,” Daria said softly.
“You say that,” Roman sighed. “But you will look at me before he walks away and you know what you will say?”
“What?” Daria tilted her head to one side.
“’Daddy, he’s mean,’” Roman answered, pitching his voice up very slightly, then dropped it back to normal with a laugh, “and you’ll be right, he is very mean.”
“Okay, but what if we call Batman on him?” Daria whispered. “Will he be less mean then?”
Roman stared at Daria, then looked up at Tiffany, “When did I get to the point where one of my mortal enemies was an option to get another to be nicer to my child?” he asked.
“I’ll be honest,” Tiffany leaned on the counter, “I stopped keeping track of your mortal enemies when one showed up in a bat costume.”
“It’s a cool bat costume,” Daria protested quietly.
Roman shook his head, the smile on his face ever-so-slightly strained. “I will call Cobblepot in the morning and see if something can be arranged. I can’t make any promises.”
“And if you can’t get him to cave?” Tiffany asked.
“Well, Metropolis has a Natural History Museum,” Roman shrugged. “And it’s not that far from here.”
“And it’s not controlled by someone you can’t stand?” Tiffany suggested.
“Oh no, I can’t stand Lex Luthor either,” Roman corrected, “but Lex Luthor is not going to say no to me if I show up with Daria in tow.”
“So, we’re going?” Daria tested.
“When have I ever told you no?” Roman asked.
“When I ask to go to work with you,” Daria answered.
“Point taken,” Roman sighed and pushed Daria’s hair away from her forehead. “But yes, we’re going.”
“YES!” Daria scrambled to her feet, nearly fell off the barstool, then spun around to hug Roman tightly. Roman flinched—he had never really been one for hugs—but scooped Daria up and hugged her back anyway.
“You’re the best daddy ever,” Daria said into his shoulder.
There, in that small moment, Tiffany saw relief cross over his face. Just that one small shred of joy he could hold onto. He was doing better than his parents, and even if that wasn’t a high bar to clear, for him, it was enough.