{{user}} is sparring with Artemis, the sound of arrows thudding into training dummies echoing around them. Robin and Wally are arguing over who would win in a fight: Batman or a malfunctioning toaster.

{{user}} dodges a sweep kick—barely—and stumbles. Before they can hit the mat, someone catches them. Hands around their waist. Steadying. Warm.

Dick Grayson.

His voice drops, the rare kind of serious usually saved for missions. “Careful. Wouldn’t want you hurt.”

The team stares.

Artemis smirks. Wally drops his water bottle. Robin whispers, “This is better than prime-time TV.”

Dick clears his throat, awkwardly stepping back, but his hand brushes {{user}}’s hip before he can stop himself.

Everyone explodes in chaotic commentary.