Re: quicklog -- steph/bruce: dive bar.
[Imagining how Alfred would react to the state they were all in made him smile, mostly because Stephanie wasn't far off the mark. There was no one in Gotham quite like the man, no one who knew Bruce better, and as such he was irreplaceable. In his own way he was important to every member of the Batfamily, and he knew they all felt his absence.] Probably. It's never wise to underestimate Alfred. [Bruce missed him as much as he missed his own father—more, even, since Alfred had been there his entire life. From the time he was a baby, throughout his childhood, teenage years, adulthood, and all the times in between. Good and bad. The one good thing about the other Gotham had been Alfred, even if he wasn't the one who'd raised him.
There was no joking in her tone, and Bruce lifted his gaze to meet hers. He'd struggled with feeling needed, like he was someone who brought good to the lives of those he cared about instead of bad, and it meant a lot that Stephanie felt that way. He knew he wasn't the militant Bat who'd raised the birds, and he wasn't ever going to be, but she made him feel like that was okay more than anyone else. That, despite his flaws, he was enough. Bruce knew he wasn't perfect, but he did love his family, each and everyone one of them, and he refused to give up. Like it or not, he was always going to be there. It didn't matter that he and Stephanie weren't related, that they didn't share blood; she was still his daughter, all the same.
Another sip of whiskey to chase away the taste, and he smiled ruefully.] I know. I'm very out of practice. [He hadn't been keeping up with his playboy facade, and he knew it. She was well on her way to becoming intoxicated, they both were, but Bruce didn't mind. He sat back a little, drink still in hand, and somehow he knew what she meant without clarification. Hating this, Gotham, what it had become. He loved his city, loved its citizens (well, most of them.) But he understood.] I know. I've missed you too. [He sighed.] It used to be different. Better, maybe, depending on one's perspective. But it's always had its problems. And the mobs, they've always been one.
[Pause.] The family used to be better. But even that has its ups and downs. There are... things that I miss. The way it used to be.
[And that nostalgia, of course, meant more alcohol was required. More whiskey. More shots. The night quickly took on a blurry quality, and on some level Bruce realized he was drunk. But he didn't care, no, not as he gulped back his... fourth? Fifth? whiskey leaned his chin on his hand.] This was a good idea. [He was most definitely slurring his words, too.]