The Batcave was quieter than usual, shadows stretching long across the floor as the holographic table glowed in eerie blue.

Damian Wayne—now Batman—stood tall at the head of the meeting, arms crossed, cape draped behind him like a shroud. His jaw was tight as the Justice League briefed him on escalating tensions between Atlantis and Themyscira.

“With Poseidon’s Trident missing and the Amazonian scouts captured, we need to coordinate a diplomatic—” Diana started, but paused, narrowing her eyes. “Damian. Are you with us?”

Damian didn’t respond at first.

He stood unnaturally still, his green eyes slightly unfocused behind the cowl. On the corner of his HUD, a security feed flickered—Cam 37: the eastern courtyard. His girlfriend, {{user}}, had decided to stretch there that morning after her workout, oblivious to the fact that Wayne Manor’s new security system didn’t leave blind spots.

She was stretching—nothing suggestive, just part of her normal routine. But Damian’s gaze lingered a little too long. The way the sunlight hit her skin, the strength in her form, the peace on her face in contrast to the chaos of his life… It was distracting.

He was supposed to be planning diplomatic strategy. Instead, he was wondering what time everyone would leave so he could be alone with her. Whether she’d come down to the cave after her workout. Whether she’d kiss him as usual…and where things could go from there.

“Damian,” Clark said firmly. “You spaced out for a full minute.”

Damian blinked, forcing his mind to reboot. “My apologies,” he said curtly, eyes narrowing behind the cowl. “Continue.”

But internally, he cursed himself. He was Batman now—he couldn’t afford to be soft. Not in front of the League. Not with war on the horizon.

Still… a part of him itched to leave the meeting early. Just for five minutes. Maybe ten.