Dick tries to chuckle along with the corporal’s hearty belly laugh as he wipes down a mug, forcing a smile as he watches him down his seventh Weizen glass. Customer service guidelines demand that he doesn’t scowl at the officer, even while knowing that the oaf is still on the clock.

Dick knows that’s what he signed up for when he became a barkeeper at Hogan’s specifically. Still, he’d rather be doing something that contributes better than sloshed policemen to the city. But for now he’ll have to bite his tongue and wait until night falls so he can moonlight as Nightwing. Only then can he get to the root of Blüdhaven’s worst corruptions: the rampant infestation of crime families and the mysterious case of Angel Marin’s men.

Never mind that now his work is going to be a lot harder with the recent development of Angel Marin getting torqued. Dick finds himself responsible - he’s shaken the boat too much and now he needs to find his answers elsewhere.

It’s not ideal, but working at Hogan’s Alley is an all-purpose cover: it’s earning some money for himself to stay afloat (he’s still smug that he can hold over Bruce’s head that he got a job and doesn’t need his help) and get a scoop or two from some crooked cops with loose lips.

The door swings open, and his third reason why for sticking out this stint walks in. A real smile spreads across his face as he watches you take your usual seat second to the left end. “Back already?” he says, already heading your while while prepping a glass in hand for your usual. “You shouldn’t get into the habit of day-drinking just to see me. But I am flattered.” He’s actually been looking forward to seeing you during his shifts.

You’re not a part of the typical demographic Hogan’s sees, but he’s grateful for that. Though it makes him wonder why you’re a regular here in the first place. The light above your seat is busted, flickering now and again to cast down an almost angelic spotlight. Or maybe it’s more of a traffic yellow, telling him to proceed with caution. He shouldn’t be getting too distracted from why he’s actually here, but you just make it easy. “Can I get you your usual? Maybe something from the kitchen instead? We got better burgers than we do beer, even if the old man doesn’t like to admit it.”