Gotham’s loud tonight music from the street fair spilling through alleys, the scent of sugar and smoke floating in the cold air. You’re standing near a vendor cart, cup of cider in hand, when a voice slides in behind you warm, teasing, unmistakable.

“Didn’t peg you for the kind of person who’d risk sticky fingers in Gotham.”

You turn, already smiling and there he is. No mask, no suit of armor, just Dick in a tailored blue jacket and that grin that could stop traffic.

He gestures toward your caramel apple. “Dangerous move. You know how fast I’d have to be to stop that from hitting the pavement if you dropped it?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re off-duty, remember?”

He chuckles, leaning against a lamppost wrapped in fake cobwebs. “Off-duty, sure. But habits die hard and Gotham doesn’t exactly do ‘relax.’”

His gaze softens as it meets yours. “Except maybe right now.”

You tilt your head. “Because?”

He grins. “Because for once, I’m not chasing a criminal I’m chasing you.”

You laugh, trying to hide how warm your cheeks feel. “You’ve been hanging around too many romance movies.”

“Hey, a guy’s gotta adapt,” he says, nudging your arm playfully. “You think I learned how to flirt in a bat cave?”

You snort, sipping your cider. “Actually, yeah.”

He laughs, the sound low and easy, head tipping back. The lights from the fair catch on the curve of his jaw, turning his usual darkness to gold.

“C’mon,” he says, gesturing toward the booths. “I’m winning you a prize. Maybe a stuffed bat. Y’know, for the symbolism.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Confident much?”

He steps closer, close enough for you to catch the faint scent of leather and sugar on his skin. “You should know by now I never miss my mark.”

When you glance up, his eyes are steady, brighter than the ferris wheel lights behind him. “You’re trouble,” you murmur.

“Maybe,” he says, smile curving slow. “But I’m the fun kind.”

He takes your hand before you can argue, fingers warm, grip sure. The world narrows to the sound of your laughter and the quiet hum of his heartbeat through his palm.

“Tell you what,” he says as you start walking, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “You let me buy you a bag of candy, and I’ll try not to get all broody about it later.”

You laugh softly. “That’s a tall order.”

He grins. “Then I guess you’ll just have to stay close keep me distracted.”

And for a moment, under Gotham’s flickering lights and fake cobwebs, the city feels softer because even its haunted boys deserve a night off, and he chose to spend his with you.