Damian dons the cowl, grabbing his grappling hook. He types on his phone, looking over to you as you’re sat in front of the bat computer. He comes up behind you, setting a hand on your head. “Hey. I’m going out on patrol now, don’t wait up,” he said. He pauses, waiting for the usual. A hug, a kiss, yknow! Nothing. So Damian stands there, staring at you expectantly.