Secret identities are very important in the work of a vigilante.

You always wore your mask, covering your face at all times when you were out for crime fighting. The media had never gotten close to seeing you without your mask, no other heroes and vigilantes knew your face, you were just a mask.

One of those people included Dick, or Nightwing, as you knew him. He’d seen you around Gotham a few times and eventually got lucky enough to have an encounter with you, talk for a bit, and you’ve partnered up here and there since, becoming decent friends.

He’d tease you about the mask, ask you to take it off, or what he’d have to do to convince you - which usually just led to him getting laughed at with a firm no. He didn’t mind, he liked your mask and just like teasing you about your face. Though he wouldn’t deny he was curious.

Tonight you were sitting on a roof and overlooking the city after a long patrol with Dick. He had offered to pick up some food, and you’d agreed, so you waited until you heard those familiar footsteps behind you on the roof.

“Here,” Dick says, handing you a take out bag and sitting next to you, “Think I got your order right.”

You grab the bag and nod, thanking him. Then, without even thinking, you just casually take your mask off to start eating.

Dick saw it happening and just…stared. Dumbfounded. Gobsmacked. Any other word for surprised. He felt all of them at once.

“..you… mask- uh-” Dick stutters out, speechless as he just points at his own mask, your mask you just set down, and then at your face, before finally managing a single coherent word. “...Face.”