Summary: Could a man dedicated to the night have it all?

Author's Note: Title based on favorite song by seal

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Rated: T

A Kiss From A Rose

Prologue

Six years later...

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Karen rotated her body just in time to see a small child come racing outside and towards the green house. She set down her garden shears, yanked off her gloves, and hurried to greet her son at the door. Her heart hummed wildly, panic gripping her.

"What is it Thomas?" She asked, dropping to her knees to take hold of the little boy now frantically clinging to her. Karen folded her arms about him and drew him closer. She grew more distressed by the tremors that radiated from his little body. "Sweet heart, what is it?"

"There's a bat in the house?" Thomas answered timorously.

It was then Karen's face contorted and her mouth twisted. Sighing, she rose and took Thomas' tiny hand in hers. "Come on," she said simply. "Let's go find daddy and have him deal with our little bat problem."

Calmly, she led Thomas into the spacious household, entering through the library, and turning east in the extensive hallway. Thomas squeezed her hand, warily looking out for the nocturnal creature that had startled him moments ago.

"Is everything alright Mrs. Wayne?" Alfred emerged from one of the rooms, a question in his eyes.

Karen nodded her head. "Yes," she said. "Just another flying menace?"

The manservant sighed heavily. "Blessed bat again mum, they nest somewhere in the grounds."

"Yes, I know," she replied, slightly aggravated, "and I'm about to find their ward."

Karen tossed Alfred a knowing glance as her lips subtly drew into a smile. The elderly gentleman returned the expression and withdrew into the room. It was no hidden secret. She knew. It was a bit of astonishment when she first discovered that Gotham's most infamous playboy ventured night after night into the city as the enigmatic Batman. She suspected a man as rich and well-to-do as Bruce Wayne had a certain night life. But cape crusader never crossed her mind. He just didn't fit the profile of a vigilante and perhaps that was what he intended for everyone to believe.

She hustled down the hall, winding round several turns, before reaching a massive door of solid oak. She rapped on the door then entered as a deep voice beckoned her inside. She located her husband on the floor of the study. Photographs, yellow folders, and a glass of orange juice sat in front of him. Night work, she thought to herself, and sadness filled her. Although, she'd come to terms with who he was and the mission he had undertaken. She worried.

On nights he slipped away when he assumed she was sleeping, fear and doubt would reside in his place. She would toss endlessly till she felt his strong arm fold about her waist in the pre-dawn hours. It was only then did she feel safe and secure. Thomas ripped free of her hold and raced over to his father. He dove into Bruce's arms narrowly spilling his orange juice on the emerald green carpet.

"Whoa!" Bruce grunted out as the weight of his son crashed into him. He laughed gingerly flipping his son onto the carpet, and started furiously tickling him in the stomach. Thomas thrashed about squealing; his legs flailing in the air, ultimately knocking over the juice.

"Oh Thomas," Karen cried out. She let out a haggard sigh and looked around the room to see if there was anything that could blot out the mess.

"Don't worry about?" Bruce grinned, his arms now fused about his son. "Alfred will take care of it."

Karen narrowed her eyes at him. "We can't depend on him always, you know. He's not as young as he used to be. Besides, I want Thomas to know the value of responsibility."

"He's only four Karen," Bruce berated, gaining a dark scowl from her. "Please don't tell me you expect him to get a job tomorrow."

"Four and a half!" Thomas corrected, quite loudly, and Bruce smiled.

"Right," he said messing his son's hair. "Four and a half."

"Daddy," Thomas groaned, flattening his hand on his hair.

"Sorry," Bruce snorted and looked at Karen. "You're just like you mother, picky about you're hair."

"I'm not like mom, she's a girl." Thomas remarked, apparently displeased his father regarded him in the same fashion as his mother.

"Of course," Karen threw her hands in the air. "I'm only the one who feeds you and clothes you."

"Uncle Alfred does too."

Bruce let out a riotous laugh, filling the entire room with its hearty sound. "So, what was it the two of you wanted to see me about?" he asked after a momentary silence.

Karen pondered for a second. "Oh—"

"Daddy," Thomas cried out. "There's a bat in the house."

"A bat?"

"Yes," Karen said, folding her arms. "Something got out and is now lurking somewhere in the mansion."

"It was in my room," Thomas said. "I saw it."

Bruce rose to his feet, his son in tow. "It might still be there. I'll get a net, capture and release it."

"Can I help?" Thomas asked, his eyes growing wide with excitement.

"I don't want you near that bat, it might carry rabbis," Karen said, concerned.

"I wanna help daddy." Her son said adamantly.

"Want to," Karen admonished, not wanting her son to develop a bad habit, and corrected his pronunciation.

"Sorry," he said pouting his lips, casting her huge puppy dog eyes.

How could she stay angry for long? With those eyes that were so like his father's it was practically impossible. She simply giggled and messed with his hair.

"Ah mom," he cried.

"Go and ask Uncle Alfred to help you fetch the net from the garden shed." Bruce instructed.

"Okay." Thomas said and scampered off to do his bidding.

Once alone, Bruce turned to his wife. "I'm sorry."

"How did it get out?" she inquired in a low whisper.

"Those caves must stretch for miles," he answered, but he was just as baffled as she was considering the newly rebuilt manor lay on fresh foundations.

"Just make sure it doesn't get anywhere near Thomas," Karen sighed, exiting the room to return to the green house. It was not everyday sunshine graced the hoary city of Gotham, and she was going to make the most of the lovely day with some gardening.

Bruce watched the gentle sway of her hips as his wife departed down the hall and a twinkle rose in his eyes. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he set off to find the critter fluttering about the manor. He started going over his good fortune. He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky and to be gifted with such an understanding wife.

If someone told him he would be happily married and still be Batman, he would say they were crazy. Nevertheless, here he was a married man and proud father. He had it all when he'd convinced himself before that he couldn't. His alternate personality led to many dangers where a significant other would fall in harm's way. However, destiny shaped his life out differently and he was still baffled by how it all happened.