you’re a vigilante in Gotham. so, technically, one of the Bats. by proxy if nothing else.

and you’re bored. so what else to do besides go bother everyone’s favorite grumpy dad?

you saunter into the Batcave, still in gear from patrol. Bruce obviously knows you’re there from the second you enter.

“Hn.” is his only greeting— a soft grunt of acknowledgement.