"Well, thankfully there is Alfred." Alfred himself wasn't conventional, but he knew how to tend to young ones.
She did have a point, but he didn't want to agree with it outright that Bruce could ever become slow and feeble, so instead he said, "Not like he'll need to run after a kid. He will just need to send the look over video feed."
He grinned, that familiar, narrow flash of teeth that said he was happy she was jesting back with him. "Darn it. I need to invest in hair dye and a stick then, to beat the younguns off. Might have to get me some wrinkle cream, too. Can't be too careful." He made a show of rubbing at his cheek and chin in inspection.
Dammit. Silence. Had he gone too far? Made her uncomfortable? Made her ready to tell him not to even, ever... But she didn't look mad. He'd learned to read her pretty well, but he couldn't quite read the look he saw in his peripheral, so he didn't try to push for the conversation that had been nagging at him. He had what she was willing to give, and that wish to not rock the boat was reflected. Still, something felt raw now, a small spot that felt heavy in his chest, and he wanted a little assurance that this was enough for the both of them.
"Do you have a lot of work to do after you eat?" Are you okay with me hanging around?