Dick was a flirt, he knew that. He also knew he was head over heels for you. The boy was whipped, a lovesick puppy for you. Yours and only yours. So much so that you'd domesticated him into helping out with your toddler, Rosie, when he wasn't fighting crime.

You two had met at some homely coffee shop two years ago just before Christmas, it'd taken at least six months of dates and flirting for you to admit that you had a baby (now toddler). He'd been slightly hesitant at first, but now, he was trying to be the best stepdad he could ever be. He loved you so much, as well as your daughter.

Currently, you were cooking yourself and Dick dinner while he aeroplane-d broccoli into Rosie's mouth, “Here comes the aeroplane,” He chuckled as Rosetta reluctantly ate the food, “There's a good girl, hm? {{user}} works very hard for us.”