My Father From Another Continent

Day 2: Father-Daughter Bonding

Marinette—his daughter, yes, you read that right, his daughter—has been staying with them for almost a whole week now. And it's not that he's complaining, he's just a bit (okay, maybe a lot) disappointed. Disappointed because they never seem to cross paths that much in the manor. But if they do, however, cross paths, it's either just brief head nods or a quick "hello" and "have you been liking it here so far?"; all because he's always busy with work, in handling the company and his whole "vigilante" life.

So now, he's suffering from withdrawals. Withdrawals from his daughter.

He wants to spend time with her, get to know her better. Get closer to her because that's how fathers are supposed to be! He's already suffering from his distant/indifferent relationship with his sons, he can't have that with his only (biological) daughter!

Sighing, Bruce scrubs his hands in his face. Alfred had advised him that he should take a break, a day off, and spend the whole weekend with Marinette. And it is indeed a good idea but the only problem is, how? What should he do? What activities should he come up with that Marinette will also enjoy?

"Might I suggest for you two to go shopping for fabrics?" Alfred comes up behind him all of a sudden. He honestly knows that he should be used to it by now but what can he do when one Alfred Pennyworth is more terrifying than a gloomy vigilante who likes to lurk in the shadows? "I have heard that the young lady is very fond of sewing," he says, leaving him to contemplate on the idea on his own but not before shaking his head with how hard he looks to be trying.

Sewing? Shopping? ...he could do that.

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Correction, no. No, he could not do it.

Whether it was sewing or shopping, he was of no use. He had tried playing video games and baking with her as well (since he had heard she also liked to do those) but still no. He still couldn't do any of her likes and hobbies. And the question is, why? Why couldn't he do something so simple as baking, sewing, and playing video games? Is he really that good for nothing (except for business management)? Is he really that useless (bar vigilantism)?

"Monsieur Wayne?" Marinette looks up at him with worry in her eyes as the screen in front of them flashes a big, red LOSE. Just hearing that soft voice of hers combined with her calling him by his last name and with honorifics made him cry (on inside since he can't show such an embarrassing side to his daughter). Why? Just why? He knows he can't really force her to call him "Dad" since they're not really that close, but would it kill her to at least call him "Bruce"?

He looks down at her and briefly smiles before leaving the room they were in. Another day, another failure to impress and hopefully get closer to his daughter. Just what should he do to be able to properly bond with her?

"M-Monsieur Wayne! Please wait!" Marinette stops in front of him as she tugs at her pigtails (that is so cute!) and looks at him with worry. "A-Are you angry?" her accent becoming a bit more prominent as she continues to fumble at the hems of her shirt.

"Angry?" he asks with genuine confusion. "Why would I be angry?"

She looks at her feet and fidgets with her hands, "B-Because you just suddenly left! And I-I thought that you might not like spending time with me since you're always away, so I thought maybe I did something wrong." her voice sounding small and wobbly with each word, that it pains him. This is the cause of his busyness, of him trying too hard just as Alfred had said. If only he hadn't been so incompetent, if only he had been better, then his daughter wouldn't have to feel neglected.

Bruce caresses Marinette's head and does the impossible (for him that is), he pulls her in and wraps his arms around her. Feeling her frail body against his big and burly ones gave him an overwhelming feeling of fear that he wonders just how many times has his daughter been let down?

"No," he smoothens his daughter's hair. "None of what you said is true." he feels Marinette's body shake as she gasps quietly. "I just wanted to spend time with you but I—, no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to do anything right."

He feels Marinette wiggle out of his grasp and he's almost tempted to strengthen his hold and never let her go. "You don't have to try so hard," she says as she looks up at him whilst still holding onto his arms, making his eyes widen in surprise with how similar her words are with what Alfred had told him. "I'm already contented that you're doing things for my sake!" a small smile tugs at her lips that Bruce almost wanted to whoop out in joy. "We can just do what you want, Monsieur Wayne!"

The brunet visibly deflates. Why? Didn't they just have a heart to heart talk just now? Why is she still calling him "Monsieur Wayne"???

"Marinette," the said ravenette flinches at his tone. Oh dear, was his voice too hard? "Sorry." he lets her go and tries to soften his voice.

"It's all right!" she smiles brightly at him that for a moment, Bruce wanted to go to an altar and just pray and thank whoever is up there for giving him such a lovely and precious daughter. "So, what do you like to do, Monsieur?"

He physically felt a few damages as soon as the words left her lips. "Mister" again? He isn't sure why, but that honestly makes him feel old... and distant.

Sighing inwardly, he smiles down at her and hesitantly pats her head. He still wasn't sure if she likes it whenever he does so, so... "I—" what can he even say? It's not like he can tell her that his hobby is running around in the night wearing a bat suit while fighting crime. Or that he just spends his time cooped up either in an office or in a board room listening to men with sticks so far up their asses that they receive brain damage.

Just as his eyes land on her face, he sees her still smiling at him but with... pity??!!

"...I'm sorry." somehow, he feels kind of unpleasant and embarrassed now.

"It's okay!" she giggles and waves her hand. Now, he kind of feels worse. Marinette looks up at the ceiling in thought and taps her chin. "Uh, how about..." she drags on.

"Sparring?"

"What?" his daughter looks back at him with wonder and shock. He didn't really mean anything by that, it just came to his mind spontaneously.

"Sparring...?" this time, he says with more uncertainty as Marinette continues to look at him while open and closing her mouth like a fish. "Well, you see, I-I heard that you like spar—fight... ing. A-And that you've taken martial arts class, so I just thought that maybe you'd like to spar?" he panics. Oh, dear; oh, no. All of this is all wrong! He knew he shouldn't have mentioned that! Bruce Wayne wasn't at the crime scene where Riddler caused a scene; Batman was! So that means it was Batman who saw her kick ass, how could Bruce Wayne even know that she fights?!

"Oh," she mutters. "Maman and Papa must've talked about me, huh?" she laughs nervously as she tugs at her pigtails (is it a nervous tick? That's adorable!).

"Y-Yes, they did." he clears his throat. "So... spar?"

"Oh, yes! Let's!" she smiles brightly at him and claps like an excited child.

Bruce leads her to their Training Room (that's not in the Batcave) and as they walk, he wonders what her thoughts on birds and bats are. Hopefully something good.