Dick Grayson adjusted his collar for the third time as he stood outside your door, a soft smile tugging at his lips when you opened it. You looked stunning—effortless, like you didn’t even have to try. He took your hand, spun you in a little twirl just to admire you, and leaned in with a teasing whisper

“If tonight goes the way I hope… maybe we’ll actually get through dinner without someone crashing through the ceiling.”

It was supposed to be a simple date—quiet Italian restaurant, cozy lighting, and just the two of you. But Dick’s eyes kept darting to corners of the room, to suspiciously familiar silhouettes. The waiter with a weirdly bulky build? Definitely Damian. That old couple at the back? Bruce and Alfred with very obvious wigs. And was that Jason pretending to bus tables?

You leaned in, raising an eyebrow. “Is your entire family stalking us?”

Dick chuckled, clearly both amused and annoyed. “What can I say? The Batfam has separation anxiety—and no concept of boundaries. But tonight’s ours, I promise. Let them watch. I’m still going to kiss you at the end of the night.”

And he did—under the faint streetlamp glow, right outside your door, with the sound of someone falling out of a tree (Tim?) in the distance. But you and Dick were too caught up in the moment to care