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In a complete betrayal, it was Alfred who announced that it was ‘the proper tradition’ to have the bride and groom separated until the ceremony.
“I really don’t think that’s necessary, Alfred,” Bruce had tried to argue. “Selina and I aren’t the most traditional couple anyway.”
Which had been, apparently, the wrong answer to give Alfred.
“It is traditional, Master Bruce,” Alfred put his foot down, emphasizing his point without actually emphasizing anything. Inwardly, Bruce had grimaced just like he had when he had been a boy and Alfred had given him a stern talking-to.
“Is it just me who’s being banished from the Manor, or the entire bridal party?” Selina had asked in amusement from where she had been seated beside him on the sofa, having thrown her feet into his lap when she had walked in and seen him sitting there. (Bruce had secretly loved how proprietary the act had been, like Selina had every right to do it.) (Because she had every right, in his eyes.)
“I have prepared the guest house for all of the bridal party,” Alfred announced satisfactorily, because Bruce was sure that Alfred liked Selina better than he liked Bruce (but who could blame him). “It should be suitable for yours and the bridal party’s needs for a night.”
Honestly, Bruce had forgotten they even had a guest house. He was sure no one had used it since he had been born.
“I’m part of the bridal party, right?” Jason realized from where he had been reading in the armchair. “How many rooms are in the guesthouse?”
“Enough for each member of the bridal party to be housed within their own,” assured Alfred, which Bruce would just have to take his word for.
“Sweet,” Jason concluded, going back to his reading.
“Wait, just the bridal party?” Dick demanded, forgetting the video game he and Tim had insisted on showing Damian. “I want to spend the night in the guest house too—which I didn’t even know that we had, by the way!”
“Drake would have more claim to the privilege than yourself, Richard,” said Damian even as most of his attention was still on the game he was playing, “as Drake and Todd have been claimed by Father’s Wife, while yourself and I are Father’s sons.”
“I’d rather stay in my own bed,” Tim spoke up, also mostly focused on the game they were playing. “I don’t have time to secure a new bedroom in a new location.”
Bruce had known he had lost the argument when Dick began begging Alfred to let him spend the night in the guesthouse too, and Alfred remained unmoved.
He hadn’t even realized he had been frowning down at Selina’s ankles until she had poked the side of his leg with her socked foot, making him look up at her smiling face.
“It’s just for one night,” she whispered to him, calm and reassuring. “We’ll see each other in the morning for the ceremony.”
When Bruce kept frowning, though sulkily this time, Selina poked him with her toe again.
“We could always sneak out.” And then she winked at him, like they were teenagers planning a clandestine meeting rather than two grown adults about to get married.
He grinned wolfishly back at her, grabbing her socked feet and pulling them back onto his lap.
Selina always had the best ideas.
Bruce should have never asked Clark to be his best man. He had been wrong to ask the most super-powered person on Earth to stand at his side. Even more, he had been wrong to ask Clark Kent, who was good and kind and took much too much pleasure in his responsibility to make sure that the groom did not see his bride until the ceremony.
“I should have asked Dick to be best man,” Bruce grumbled as Clark had caught him sneaking out to see Selina for the second time. Bruce knew he could slip past Dick, at least.
“And Dick would have asked me to keep an eye on you,” Clark replied with a cheerful laugh, keeping a super-powered hand on Bruce’s shoulder as he was forced back into the house.
“Actually, I would have just asked Diana to tie him up with her Lasso,” Dick called out from where they had retreated to the lounge for after-dinner drinks. (The boys were making milkshakes.)
“Ma and Pa already retired for the night,” Clark informed Bruce, unconcerned with Bruce’s frowning expression. “No more partying. They want to rest up for the wedding.”
Clark had thrown a poolside BBQ party that evening for everyone who was staying at the Manor (except for those staying the guesthouse). Everyone had loved it. Bruce wondered what Selina was doing.
Lois reached over to pat Bruce consolingly on his arm. “It’s only one night, Bruce.”
Bruce would try again under cover of night. Or maybe Selina would manage to slip away and meet him instead.
Bruce hadn’t managed to get past the ultimate defense (Superman). And Selina hadn’t snuck away last night either.
“What if she’s having second thoughts?”
Dick groaned from across the room, where he and Tim were sharing a mirror as they got dressed in their wedding suits.
Bruce wasn’t really sure what this room was, but Alfred had turned it into a dressing room for his half of the wedding party, with folding changing screens and their wedding attire all pressed and hung up since yesterday.
“Selina’s not going to leave you at the altar, Bruce,” Clark assured from where he was struggling with his carvat, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth. (Alfred had picked the style for their wedding suits.)
“You don’t know that,” Bruce said ominously, glaring at his own reflection.
Both Clark and Diana rolled their eyes at him. Diana ignored him in favor of going over to help Clark, as Diana was a perfect human being so she was already dressed and ready while the rest of them were running behind.
“Father, I require assistance,” Damian demanded, showing up in front of Bruce and brandishing his rumpled necktie at Bruce’s face. There had clearly been many attempts before Damian had gotten too frustrated with attempting to do it on his own.
“Uhh,” Bruce said cluelessly, blinking down at Damian’s disgruntled expression. He guided his youngest son away with a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll need to find Alfred.”
He ignored the numerous snickers he could hear behind him.
The wedding was beautiful. Everything was perfect. Nothing had gone wrong. No Rogue attacks. No alien invasions. Not even a random guest arriving inebriated. (Though Bruce wasn’t sure whether or not Klarion’s curse of ‘wrongdoing’ extended to public drunkenness, he was sure he didn’t want to know.)
“I told you so,” Bruce whispered almost inaudibly, but he knew that Clark would be able to pick it up anyway. “She’s having second thoughts. I’m going to be left at the altar.”
Clark shot Bruce a warning look from where he was standing too far away to whisper anything back, because it wasn’t even the time for the bride to appear yet. (Alfred’s rehearsal had been very thorough.) But Bruce kept his gaze trained down the aisle, waiting for Selina to appear.
He was sure that Brian was offering Selina an out. As her father, of course he would help his daughter run away from the wedding if she didn’t want to be married to Bruce. A part of Bruce even respected loving and being loyal to your family that much to do that for them. But a much larger part of him was more terrified that Selina had spontaneously come to her senses and realized that she didn’t want to marry a disaster.
But then the music swelled, Selina appeared, and Bruce lost all ability to do anything but stare in awe at the woman walking up the aisle to meet him. At the woman he would be spending the rest of his life with.
(At the woman he had fallen in love with at first sight, and had never stopped loving, in all of the ways he had loved her.)
Selina was beautiful and resplendent and smiling at him—at everyone—like this was the happiest day of her life. Like this was exactly where she wanted to be. Like this always had been meant to be.
Bruce watched as Selina’s father leaned down to kiss the crown of her head, letting his daughter go. And as soon as Selina had turned towards him, Bruce had stepped forward to grasp both of her hands in his, handing Selina’s bridal bouquet over to her sister to hold—because he had wanted to hold Selina’s hands and have her hold his, because he was never going to let her go if he could help it.
Bruce was glad for the rehearsal, because it meant he could put all of his attention onto Selina (where it belonged) instead of trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing. Alfred’s familiar, efficient voice was safe and warm—a voice Bruce had always trusted to lead him. Bruce only had to do what Alfred said.
“Do you, Bruce Wayne, take Selina Kyle to be your wife—”
“I do,” Bruce answered immediately. Actually, he was pretty sure there had been more to that question, but he had answered the part that mattered.
Selina squeezed his hands in hers, her green eyes sparkling with amusement, but her smile was all that he needed to see.
“Do you, Selina Kyle, take Bruce Wayne to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?” Alfred asked, voice tinged with amusement as he actually got through the whole question this time.
Bruce stared at Selina, not even daring to breathe, and probably holding her hands too tightly as he waited for the answer to the most important question of his life.
Selina smiled at him, and he knew that she meant it and always would when she answered,
“I do.”
“You may kiss the bride,” Alfred’s smiling voice floated over to them somehow.
And Bruce kissed Selina exactly like he had always planned, knowing that this would be the photo that would make it into the history books.
A love for the ages. Forever.