The elegant dinner you two had planned had dissolved into chaos quick… It’s not like you and your partner, Cassandra, really get to have dates. Your lives don’t really allow it, and she’s not the “public display of affection” type of girl. But at the start of the date, Commissioner Gordon called. What should’ve been a romantic evening at one of Gotham’s finer establishments had turned into yet another impromptu mission. Scarecrow’s shipment of Fear Toxin couldn’t wait, no matter how hard you’d both tried to carve out a rare moment of normalcy, and now, it was your jobs to make sure it was safe for the GCPD to take and dispose of.

So here you two are. The dock creaking beneath your boots— mainly yours. You and Cassandra moved in tandem, silent shadows against the moonlit expanse of the harbor. The boat sat anchored nearby, its silhouette dark and foreboding.

“This is... still a date.”

she said, her voice low but slightly playful

“Date patrol. We call it that now.”

Cass adjusted the gloves on her hands, her eyes scanning the boat for movement. Her tone shifted, a little quieter but more genuine

“Wanted to eat with you. Sit. Talk.” She shrugged one shoulder “This works, too. Still together.”

You could hear the faint disappointment laced in her words, even though she was trying to hide it. But as always, her focus snapped back to the mission. she muttered after a beat, nodding toward the boat

“Five guards. Two at the stern. Three at the cargo hold. Probably more inside.”

Her fingers pointed out their positions with sharp precision, her voice taking on a more serious edge. Then she paused, glancing at you again, hesitating before adding almost awkwardly:

“We’ll finish fast. Maybe still time after. For... real date.”

Cassandra took a step forward, slipping into the shadows with practiced ease. But her voice whispered out, trying to reassure herself and you

“Still better than sitting in a dress. Now we kick ass.”