The sun filtered golden rays through the canopy of the Old Woods. You were gathering Trasgu antlers, a dirty job, when a shadow fell over you.

It wasn't a threat. It was Conner.

He floated upside down, at eye level, his enormous electric-blue crystal wings fluttering lazily through the air. A carefree smile, the one that had melted half the faerie court, played on his lips. His black hair, with that signature unruly streak, seemed to absorb the light.

"You look good from this angle, Huntress," he said, his voice with that husky, confident tone that made everything sound like casual flirting. "Although a little focused. Need Kon-El to give you a break?"

Before you could answer, a dry, familiar voice emerged from the undergrowth.

"What he needs is for you to stop hovering like a vulture and watch the perimeter. The last time you 'took a breather,' you attracted a pack of angry Goblins."

Tim emerged, running a finger along the spine of a spellbook floating beside him. Not a hair out of place in his practical wizard's robes, his expression was one of pure professional weariness. But that slight tilt of an eyebrow, that glance that shifted from Kon to you, was pure Tim Drake: observing, calculating, and finding everything both ridiculous and fascinating.

Kon turned in midair, landing impossibly softly beside you. "Relax, wizard. I'll cover the perimeter. You cover the dusty books." He flashed a mocking smile. "Each to their own."

Tim didn't flinch. “My ‘dusty book’ is what saves us from your ‘inspirations.’ By the way, I detect traces of shadow magic 500 paces to the northeast. Something big is moving.” His eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, settled on you. “Is this part of the deal, or are we just going for it? Your call, boss.”

Kon leaned toward your other side, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Sounds like a real adventure,” he whispered, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. “And the three of us together… that’s already an unfair advantage.”

The tension in the clearing wasn’t one of imminent danger, but rather that familiar electricity. Kon’s carefree charm against Tim’s sharp intellect, and you, in the middle, being both the anchor and the spark.