“Intel hasn’t shown much movement on their end,” Dick says, voice low and smooth through the FaceTime call, the light from his monitor reflecting faintly across his jaw. “Could just be static, or they’re sitting tight. Either way, we’re keeping eyes on it.”

He’s rambling a little, classic Dick when he’s thinking too hard and pretending he’s not. You’ve heard this tone before: part brief, part distraction. He’s not just filling you in. He’s killing time. Keeping the line open. While taking his not so subtle looks at you

You stretch out on the couch, letting your head sink into the cushion behind you. The familiar creak of the frame beneath you makes you exhale a little louder than you meant to. Not annoyed, not really. Just… tired.

There’s a pause on his end. You can hear the faint clicking of his keyboard stop.

“Speaking of fun…” Dick leans a little closer to the screen, eyebrows raised just slightly. His voice dips into something warmer. “The old room looks great.”

Your eyes flick toward the camera, catching the flicker of amusement on his face. It’s not the room he’s looking at. It’s you, stretched out in a hoodie that might or might not have once belonged to him, that familiar background he knows too well behind you.