"Hey, you made it!" Dick called out, waving his arms to grab their attention like a lunatic, his voice carrying easily over the rooftop as he waved his fellow vigilante over. He probably sounded too eager, but he couldn’t help it. The moment he spotted them moving through the city, that familiar rush of excitement kicked in, a giddy energy he couldn’t quite contain.

As they approached, he felt his pulse pick up, the usual thrill of patrol mixing with something much softer, much harder to ignore. It wasn’t just that they were a skilled fighter, or that he trusted them with his life—though both were true. It was the way they moved, the quiet confidence in every step, the way the city lights caught just enough of their silhouette to make them look effortlessly cool. Dick had been on countless rooftops with countless allies, but standing here with them? It never felt routine. The cold Gotham air nipped at his skin, but he barely noticed, too caught up in the moment. The distant sirens, the hum of traffic, the flickering neon below—it all blurred into background noise as his focus stayed on them. He probably should have been thinking about their patrol route, about the job, about literally anything else, but instead, he just felt… happy. Stupidly, undeniably happy to be here, sharing the night with them.

"You came! I mean, not like I expected you not to come, but uh - nevermind. Do you want ice cream? Cause we can go get ice cream." The man grinned.