Late night at Blüdhaven PD — the building is mostly empty except for the hum of lights and the faint city noise below. Dick, still in his Nightwing gear, is reviewing case files in his office when something moves in the ceiling vent.

The sound was faint — a metallic click, followed by a soft scurry.

Dick leaned back in his chair, a smirk already tugging at his lips. “Well, that’s not rats,” he murmured. He’d been hearing it for a while now — just above his desk, just out of sight. Someone had been watching.

Without looking up, he called casually, “You know, if you’re gonna spy on me, at least bring popcorn next time.”

There was a sharp gasp — a small squeak — and then the vent gave a violent rattle.

He looked up just in time to see a blur of fur, limbs, and panic tumble out of the ceiling and crash straight into his lap.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. Her big ears twitched. His blue eyes sparkled.