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Dick had dressed babies before.
He’d dressed Damian after a broken arm. He’d wrestled toddler Lian into sweaters when Roy needed help . He’d even helped babysit enough Justice League children to know that putting clothes on someone whose primary goal in life was escape required Olympic-level reflexes.
But this?
This was something else.
Nathan sat happily on the changing table, kicking pudgy legs while Dick held up the tiny outfit in disbelief.
A crisp white shirt with delicate blue stitching around the rounded collar.
Powder-blue shorts held up by pearl-like buttons.
Little matching trim around the sleeves.
Tiny leather shoes.
Dick blinked.
“…Buddy…”
Nathan smiled and clapped.
“…You look like you’re about to inherit a yacht.”
Nathan answered by trying to eat one of the buttons.
Dick sighed dramatically before scooping his son into his arms.
“…Okay. Let’s go talk to mommy about this shall we?”
A minute later he wandered down the hallway, still carrying Nathan.
The little boy looked absurdly adorable.
Which was almost the problem.
Dick knocked once before poking his head into the master bathroom.
Barbara was standing at the vanity, carefully applying mascara.
“Babs?”
“Mhm?” She responded eyes wide and focused in the mirror as she applied the blue colored make up
Dick continued stepping into the room “I know I said I’d get Nathan ready so you could do your makeup…”
She smiled at the mirror.
“And?” She put the cap back on the mascara
Dick shifted Nathan onto his hip.
“…Is this the outfit?”
Barbara looked over her shoulder.
“Yes.”
She frowned.
“I told you the one on the changing pad. That’s where it was. Was it not?”
“Well…yeah…but…”
She set the mascara down.
“But what?”
Dick gestured toward their son.
“I don’t know.”
Nathan waved happily at his mother.
Dick continued.
“He looks…”
Barbara waited.
“He looks…”
“…the outfit makes him look…”
He searched desperately for the right word.
“…dorky.”
Barbara raised an eyebrow.
“Dorky?”
“I mean…”
Dick scratched the back of his neck.
“Or maybe…a little too much?”
He pointed toward Nathan’s tiny embroidered collar.
“It kind of screams, ‘Look at me, I’m not a normal baby,’ you know?”
Barbara stared at him for exactly three seconds.
Then she burst out laughing.
“Oh, honey.”
“What?”
“I didn’t buy the outfit.”
“You didn’t?”
She shook her head.
“Alfred did.”
Dick’s eyes narrowed.
“…Of course he did.”
“Actually,” Barbara corrected, returning to her eyeliner, “Alfred picked it out under direct orders from Bruce.”
Dick groaned loud enough that Nathan giggled.
“It came from some boutique downtown called Pepe London.”
She reached for a lipstick.
“The receipt was still in the bag.”
Dick was only half listening.
“And your theory about it screaming ‘look at me’…”
She smiled.
“…is completely correct.”
Dick folded his arms.
“I knew it.”
Barbara casually added,
“It cost two hundred eighty-five dollars.”
Silence.
Dick’s brain visibly stopped working.
“…I’m sorry.”
Barbara repeated it.
“Two hundred and eighty-five dollars.”
Dick looked down at Nathan.
Nathan looked back with wide blue eyes.
Dick looked at the tiny shorts.
Back at Barbara.
Then at the tiny shoes.
“…Two hundred…”
He blinked.
“…Eighty-five.”
Barbara nodded.
“For a thirteen-month-old.”
Dick’s voice cracked.
“Babs!”
He held Nathan up slightly.
“If he doesn’t stain it tonight, he’ll outgrow it before the next gala!”
Nathan chose that exact moment to proudly smear a cracker crumb across the front of the white shirt.
Dick pointed dramatically.
“See?!”
Barbara bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.
Dick kept going.
“He’s one! He drools professionally! He thinks blueberries are finger paint!”
Nathan happily slapped both hands against Dick’s cheeks.
Barbara finally lost the battle and laughed.
“I know.”
“No, seriously.”
Dick looked horrified.
“This outfit costs more than some of my first apartments.”
Barbara capped her lipstick.
“Bruce wants Gotham to know his grandson is his grandson.”
Dick sighed.
Barbara walked over, smoothing Nathan’s little collar.
“I mean…”
She shrugged dramatically.
“He’s not exactly a normal baby, Dick.”
“No?”
“He’s the grandson of Bruce Wayne…”
She tapped Nathan’s nose.
“…and Jim Gordon.”
Another tap.
“Basically Gotham royalty.”
Dick stared.
Then gave her the flattest look imaginable.
“Babs.”
She held the expression for another second before breaking into a grin.
“I’m joking, Dick.”
“I know.”
“Our son is our son before he’s anyone else’s grandson.”
Dick’s shoulders relaxed.
Barbara reached up, straightening the lapel of his tuxedo.
“But…”
She smiled softly.
“…humor Bruce and Alfred tonight.”
Dick glanced down at Nathan, who was busy attempting to chew on his own sleeve.
“They’ve been excited about this gala for weeks.”
“I know.”
“They adore him.”
“I know.”
“And let’s be honest…”
She leaned closer.
“…Bruce has probably already told every billionaire attending tonight that his grandson is the cutest child in Gotham.”
Dick laughed.
“…Probably.”
Barbara brushed invisible lint from Nathan’s shorts.
“So let them show him off tonight.”
She kissed Nathan’s forehead.
“And tomorrow…”
She looked back at Dick with a conspiratorial smile.
“…we’ll put him back in his ten-dollar dinosaur pajamas from Target.”
Dick smiled.
“…Yeah.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah?”
“You’re right.”
“I usually am.”
He snorted.
“Don’t let that go to your head.”
“Oh, it already has.”
Dick leaned down to kiss her.
Nathan immediately wedged himself between them with a delighted squeal.
Barbara laughed.
“I think someone wants kisses too.”
Dick kissed the top of Nathan’s head.
“There.”
Nathan giggled.
A loud knock echoed through the bedroom.
“Master Richard?”
Alfred’s unmistakable voice carried through the door.
“The car is ready.”
Dick opened the door.
Alfred’s eyes immediately landed on Nathan.
For one brief moment, the legendary butler’s impeccably composed expression melted into unmistakable pride.
“Oh.”
He smiled warmly.
“Splendid.”
Dick caught it instantly.
“You approve?”
“Very much so.”
Nathan reached toward Alfred.
The older man gently took his tiny hand.
“You look every inch a young Master Wayne.”
Dick muttered under his breath,
“…A very expensive young Master Wayne.”
Without missing a beat, Alfred replied,
“Master Richard…”
“Yes?”
“Some investments appreciate in value.”
Alfred smiled at Nathan.
“This one already has.”
Dick looked down at his son—perfectly pressed, ridiculously overdressed, trying with all his might to shove one polished shoe into his mouth—and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Okay.”
He surrendered with a grin.
“You win.”
From somewhere downstairs came Bruce’s voice.
“Is my grandson ready yet?”
Dick sighed theatrically.
“Oh great.”
Barbara looped her arm through his.
“Come on.”
“The grandparents have been waiting all day.”
Nathan squealed happily, blissfully unaware that he had somehow become the most anticipated guest at Wayne Manor—and possibly the most expensive thirteen-month-old in Gotham.
The ballroom at Wayne Manor glittered beneath crystal chandeliers.
A string quartet played softly from the balcony.
Waiters drifted through the room carrying silver trays while Gotham’s wealthiest citizens mingled in tuxedos and designer gowns.
Dick barely had one foot through the door before Nathan disappeared.
“…Hey—”
Bruce had simply materialized.
“There he is.”
Without so much as a greeting to Dick, Bruce gently lifted Nathan from his arms with practiced ease.
Nathan blinked.
Bruce smiled.
“Hello, Grandson.”
Nathan immediately grabbed Bruce’s bow tie.
Dick sighed.
“I had him for exactly eighteen seconds.”
Barbara smirked
“I told you.”
⸻
Bruce wasn’t subtle.
Not even a little.
Within minutes he was walking through the ballroom with Nathan perched comfortably on one arm like he was displaying Gotham’s newest priceless acquisition.
“Lucius.”
Lucius Fox turned.
His face immediately softened.
“Well now.”
Bruce smiled in a way reserved for exactly one person.
“My grandson.”
Lucius chuckled.
“I gathered.”
Nathan reached toward Lucius.
“Oh?”
Lucius took the tiny hand.
“I get a handshake?”
Nathan responded by attempting to steal his glasses.
Bruce looked absurdly proud.
“Strong grip.”
Dick buried his face in Barbara’s shoulder.
“I can’t believe this.”
Barbara laughed.
“You’ve created a monster.”
“I created nothing.”
“You gave Bruce a grandson.”
“…Fair.”
⸻
Across the room Alfred stood beside a dessert table.
Except…
He wasn’t guarding desserts.He was guarding backup clothes.
Barbara blinked.
“…Is that…”
Dick leaned closer.
“…A second outfit?”
Alfred looked almost offended.
“Certainly.”
Barbara stared.
“There are…spares?”
“Miss Barbara…”
Alfred folded his hands.
“Master Nathan is thirteen months old.”
He lowered his voice.
“I planned for cake.”
Dick couldn’t help laughing.
“You packed emergency gala clothes?”
Alfred nodded “I packed three.”
Dick and Barbara responded in unison “Three?!”
“The third accounts for chocolate.”
Barbara whispered,
“I suddenly understand how Bruce survived childhood.”
⸻
Meanwhile…
Bruce had found the mayor.
“And this…”
Bruce said proudly.
“…is Nathan.”
The mayor smiled.
“Pleasure to meet—”
Nathan sneezed directly onto his tuxedo.
Silence.
Dick winced from across the room.
“…There it is. The moment Bruce is over being a grandpa and realizes he’s not a prop”
Barbara covered her mouth.
Bruce calmly accepted a handkerchief from Alfred, who had somehow appeared beside him before anyone even called.
“Thank you.”
He wiped Nathan’s nose.
Looked at the mayor.
“He likes you.”
The mayor laughed.
“I’ll choose to believe that.”
Dick was wide eyed “What has Bruce become? And why is he only this way with our child?”
⸻
Twenty minutes later…
Jim Gordon arrived.
He’d barely removed his coat before Bruce spotted him.
“Gordon.”
Jim smiled.
“Wayne.”
Bruce held Nathan out.
“Your grandson.”
Jim immediately took him.
“Oh, look at you.”
Nathan patted Jim’s mustache curiously.
Jim chuckled.
“You’ve gotten bigger.”
Bruce folded his arms.
“He gained nearly two pounds since last month.”
Jim looked over.
“You weighed him?”
Bruce answered without shame.
“Of course.”
Dick whispered to Barbara,
“…He’s tracking growth charts.”
Barbara whispered back,
“He has spreadsheets.”
Dick’s eyes widened “He has spreadsheets? What are we tracking his height and development too?
Barbara shrugged “I found them.”
Dick stared into the distance.
“…Of course he has spreadsheets.”
⸻
Soon the two grandfathers unknowingly began competing.
Jim bounced Nathan.
Bruce adjusted Nathan’s collar.
Jim accepted a cookie from a passing tray.
Bruce immediately intercepted it.
“He hasn’t had dinner.”
Jim shrugged.
“One cookie.”
Bruce looked horrified.
“He’s thirteen months.”
“So?”
“So no sugar, Dick and Barbara’s orders. No sugar til age 2. Alfred makes wonderful sugar free options for him”
Jim blinked.
“…Bruce, what his parents don’t know….little things like this won’t hurt him”
Bruce crossed his arms.
“He’ll crash.”
Jim reached into his pocket.
“I raised Barbara.”
Bruce answered instantly.
“So did I.”
Jim frowned.
“…No.”
Bruce didn’t even smile.
“I’ve funded enough of her schooling to qualify.”
Barbara groaned.
“Oh no.”
Dick grinned.
“They’re doing it.The Grandpa Olympics.”
⸻
An hour later Nathan had officially met…
…the mayor.
…three judges.
…half the Wayne Foundation board.
…every member of Gotham General’s children’s wing.
…and at least four billionaires from Metropolis.
Not to mention multiple law enforcement
Each introduction began exactly the same.
“This is my grandson.”
Dick started counting.
By number twenty-three he’d given up.
⸻
Then came the inevitable.
Nathan yawned.
A tiny little yawn.
Followed by rubbing both eyes.
Bruce immediately noticed.
“He’s tired.”
Jim noticed at the exact same time.
“He needs bed.”
Bruce nodded.
“I’ll carry him upstairs.”
Jim frowned.
“I can.”
Bruce answered,
“I have a nursery upstairs .”
Jim replied,
“I have grandpa privileges.”
Dick stepped between them.
“Or…”
Both men looked at him.
“…his actual father could put him to bed.”
Silence.
Bruce blinked.
Jim blinked.
Barbara snorted.
“…Imagine that.”
Bruce reluctantly surrendered Nathan.
Jim sighed dramatically.
“I suppose.”
Dick accepted his son back.
Nathan instantly rested his head on Dick’s shoulder.
Within seconds he was asleep.
The ballroom suddenly felt quieter.
Bruce looked at the sleeping toddler.
His expression softened into something almost fragile.
“So small.”
Jim nodded.
“They don’t stay that way.”
Bruce looked thoughtful.
“No.”
Dick caught the look.
It wasn’t billionaire Bruce Wayne.
It wasn’t Batman.
It wasn’t Gotham’s most intimidating man.
It was simply a grandfather wishing time would slow down.
Barbara slipped her hand into Dick’s.
“They love him.”
Dick smiled at the sleeping little boy.
“I know.”
Barbara leaned against him.
“And you know what?”
“What?”
“They’re going to buy him another ridiculous outfit for Christmas.”
Dick groaned.
“I know.”
A voice floated over from Alfred.
“I’ve already ordered it.”
Dick looked toward the ceiling.
“…Of course you have.”
Alfred’s eyes twinkled.
“It comes with a matching wool coat.”
Bruce nodded in approval.
“Excellent.”
Jim looked intrigued.
“Can I see the catalog?”
Dick looked at Barbara in mock betrayal.
“They’re unionizing.”
Barbara laughed so hard she had to wipe away a tear.
“Welcome to raising Gotham’s most spoiled grandson.”
Nathan slept peacefully through the entire exchange, one tiny hand still clutching the lapel of Dick’s tuxedo, blissfully unaware that somewhere, somehow, three of the most formidable men in Gotham were already planning his next wardrobe.