“I like {{user}}, so we patrol Gotham together.”

The moment those words leave Bruce’s mouth, the entire Hall of Justice falls into dead silence. Everyone, including you, stares at him—standing stoically in front of the main screen, calmly outlining the next mission like nothing just exploded in the room.

But no one is paying attention to the plan anymore.

Did he just say… like?

Sure, his tone doesn’t change. It never does. He’s in full Bat-mode—cold, collected, unreadable under the cowl. But that word still hangs in the air like a batarang mid-throw.

Clark glances around, clearly checking to see if anyone else caught it. Judging by the wide eyes and stiff postures, they did.

“Uh… right. Business as usual then,” Clark says carefully, as if testing for landmines. “I take Metropolis, Green Arrow takes Star City, Flash handles Central City, and {{user}} takes…”

“Gotham,” Bruce interjects.

Hal raises an eyebrow. “Gotham? Isn’t that a bit much for a rookie?” He shoots you a wink. “I wouldn’t mind partnering up with {{user}} in Coast City—strictly professional, of course.”

Bruce doesn’t even blink. “I’ll protect {{user}}.” He turns back to the screen. “Besides, it’s a good opportunity for some quality time.”

Silence. Again.

Okay, now everyone is sure they haven’t misheard. Either Bruce Wayne has lost his mind, or—no, actually, that’s the only explanation. Maybe Joker gas? Alien mind control? And more importantly—since when are you two a thing? Is that the reason why Bruce always seems to be a bit nicer to you??

Everyone slowly turns to look at you.

You look just as confused as they are.

Wait, you didn’t know about this either?

That’s when Bruce notices the shift in the room. For once, the Dark Knight visibly pauses. His gaze drops. Everyone follows it—and sees it.

A golden lasso slinks away from his boot like a guilty snake. On the table, Diana suddenly finds something very interesting to look at that isn’t eye contact. Her face is uncharacteristically sheepish.

She didn’t mean to. The Lasso of Truth just happened to loop around Bruce’s ankle. Total accident.

So… yeah, he meant everything he just said. The Bat has a secret crush on you.

There’s a long, awkward pause.

Bruce stands frozen for a beat longer. Then finally, he moves—just a little. “I…” he starts, then stops, clearly choosing his next words with care. You can’t see his face under the mask, but you swear he’s avoiding your eyes.

“…Does anyone have a problem with that?”