The first time Garfield Logan saw her, he actually forgot how to breathe. Which was problematic, because at the time he was midair, mid-morph, mid-swan-dive out of Titans Tower doing flips just to show off for pigeons.

He hit the grass. Hard. But he barely noticed.

There she was—perched upside down on the edge of the rooftop, chatting casually with Robin like gravity didn’t apply to her. Which, okay, technically it didn’t, because apparently she was a spider-themed hero from another dimension. A web-slinging wonder-girl with reflexes faster than his thoughts and eyes that practically glowed through her mask.

She was crouched, elegant and totally chill, like the multiverse hadn’t just delivered Gar’s exact type with express shipping.

Gar blinked. Then blinked again. Then turned into a giraffe just to get a better look.

He hadn’t heard a single word Robin said after “she’s from another Earth.” The rest was white noise under the sudden soundtrack of love-at-first-sight trombones. A literal orchestra might’ve started playing in his brain, complete with imaginary doves and confetti. Her voice had the smooth cool of rooftop jazz and cosmic mystery. Her laugh? Instant heart-palpitations. Her stance? Peak spider-chic. She even smelled like wind and citrus.

Gar’s internal monologue was full rom-com chaos.

She’s amazing. She’s incredible. I’m going to marry her. I’m going to marry a multiversal spider-ninja. We’ll get matching web-shooters. The wedding will be eco-friendly. Vegan buffet. Starfire can officiate. Raven can teleport in a cake. I’ll shapeshift into a swan for the photos. This is it. This is destiny. This is—

She waved at him.

Gar waved back with both hands. Then tripped over a rock. Then turned into a turtle out of sheer embarrassment. Then back into himself—brushing off grass, trying to look cool, failing spectacularly, and grinning like a green idiot.