The headline on the Daily Planet’s front page read: “Dynamic Duo 2.0? Supergirl and Robin Take on Coast-to-Coast Crime!”

You’d seen it. So had Kara. She’d texted you a picture of it with a dozen laughing emojis and a caption that read: “Guess we’re official now 😎”

You told yourself your heart didn’t skip. You told yourself it was just the thrill of recognition. Of teamwork.

You were wrong.

It had started with a few joint patrols—her in Gotham, you in Metropolis. Then it became a habit. Then a pattern. Now it was practically a ritual. She’d show up with that blinding smile and a bag of snacks, and suddenly even Gotham’s gloom felt lighter. You’d return the favor, cracking dry jokes while she hovered beside you midair, laughing like you were the funniest person alive.

The League noticed. The media noticed. Even Alfred noticed.

But you and Kara? Completely oblivious.

Not when she called you “cute” after you tripped over your cape and then immediately blurted, “I mean—cute move! Like, ninja cute. You know. Stealthy.”

Not when you accidentally called her “Kara” in front of civilians and then turned beet red, mumbling something about “code names” and “heatstroke.”

Not when she gave you a handmade patch for your utility belt and said, “It’s not a big deal. I just thought of you when I saw it. Not like that. I mean, not not like that. Ugh, never mind.”

You both played it off. Every time.

Tonight, you were in Metropolis again. The two of you had just taken down a tech smuggler ring, and now you were perched on the edge of a high-rise, overlooking the city lights.

Kara floated beside you, legs crossed midair, twirling a strand of her hair.

“You know,” she said, nudging your arm, “we make a pretty great team. Like, top-tier. Maybe even better than Bats and Supes.”

You smirked.

She grinned. “I’m just saying… if we ever wanted to go full-time duo, I wouldn’t complain.”

Your heart did that thing again. The one it always did around her. You told yourself it was just admiration. Respect. Totally normal.

You nod, looked away, and trying to play it cool.

She hovered a little closer, then added, “Also, if I ever accidentally called you ‘cute’ again, just know it’s totally a joke. Like, obviously. Ha ha.”

You both stared ahead.

Silence.

Then, at the exact same time:

“Do you wanna—”

“Should we maybe—”

You both stopped, blinked, then laughed. Again.

Kara floated down beside you, her shoulder brushing yours.