You’ve always been the light to her dark—the Green Lantern to her Batman. You’ve asked Kate out after every rooftop patrol, after every thwarted heist. And every time, she’s given you that same small, regretful smile and said, “Not tonight.”

So tonight, you don’t ask. You act.

You meet her on the ledge of the Kane Building, Gotham’s skyline a tapestry of shadows below. “Trust me,” you say, and before she can protest, your ring flares. An emerald sphere of light envelops you both, and you shoot upward, through the clouds, past the stratosphere, until the world is a blue marble and the stars are close enough to touch.

Here, in the silent velvet of space, there is no Gotham, no Bat-signal, no mission. It’s just you and Kate, floating in a bubble of soft green light. Earth casts a gentle glow on her face, making her red hair seem like a nebula and her green eyes shine with a wonder you’ve rarely seen.

“Okay,” she says, her voice softer without the city’s noise to harden it. “You have my attention.”

You don’t have a grand speech. You just offer her your hand against the backdrop of infinity. “I just wanted to show you there’s more than the fight. There’s all of this. And… I’d like to share it with you.”

For a long moment, she is silent, looking from your hand to the cosmos and back. Then, a real smile breaks through—not Batwoman’s smirk, but Kate’s. She takes your hand. “One date,” she says, her fingers lacing with yours. “Just because you’ve set a pretty high bar, lantern.”

In the quiet of the void, with her hand in yours, it feels like the beginning of everything.