Dinner at Wayne Manor was never quiet, but tonight, the usual banter had been replaced by something far more confusing.

Tim and his girlfriend sat across from each other, engaged in rapid-fire conversation—except conversation might have been the wrong word. What they were doing was more like… advanced-level coding discourse mixed with cybersecurity theory, and absolutely no one else at the table could follow.

“If we adjust the algorithm to prioritize asymmetric cryptography over standard hash functions, we can optimize the encryption process without sacrificing efficiency,” Tim said, gesturing with his fork before taking a bite of food.

You nodded, tapping something on your phone before showing him the screen. Tim’s eyes lit up, and he leaned in, rattling off something about quantum-resistant key exchanges, private key management, and the dangers of post-quantum cryptography.

Bruce, mid-sip of his wine, paused. “Quantum-resistant key exchange?”

Dick leaned toward Jason, stage-whispering, “Do you know what they’re talking about?”

Jason snorted. “I stopped listening after ‘algorithm.’”

Across the table, Damian’s expression was blank. “You mean to tell me that Drake and his beloved are bonding over cryptographic security?”

“Looks like it,” Jason muttered, smirking. “Kind of adorable, honestly.”

Bruce said nothing, instead watching the way Tim’s expression softened, how animated he was—how comfortable. He was always the one explaining things, the one keeping up with everyone else’s pace. But here, now, he wasn’t explaining.

He was understood.

Bruce didn’t understand half of what was being said.

But he did understand this—Tim had found someone who truly got him.

And that was enough.