Dick found them alone again—same corner of the training hall, same quiet hum of the overhead lights, same way they kept their eyes on anything except people. He paused in the doorway, rolling his shoulders back, a little bounce settling naturally into his step.

He wasn’t going to let this keep happening.

He approached with the easy confidence of someone who’d grown up performing for crowds, yet something gentler settled in his expression when he got close. His smile wasn’t the showy one he used on civilians—it was smaller, warmer, meant for one person.

“Hey,” he said, voice light, almost deceptively casual. “You busy? Actually… doesn’t matter if you are.”

He leaned against a nearby support beam, arms crossing loosely. His eyes stayed trained on them with a soft focus, like he was studying tiny details: how they stood, whether they seemed tired, the subtle tension in their jaw. He always noticed things he wasn’t trying to notice.

“I’m kidnapping you,” he announced simply, nodding once, as if it was already settled. “Metaphorically. Unless you fight back. Then it becomes literal.”

A beat. His grin deepened.

“C’mon. You’ve been holed up in corners for, what—weeks? That’s illegal in this house. I’m pretty sure Bruce wrote it into the bylaws.”

He pushed off the beam, brushing a hand through his hair—an unconscious nervous tic he never acknowledged. He stepped closer, tilting his head just enough to meet their gaze.

“I like having you here,” he said softly, sincerity threading through the words without him realizing how exposed he sounded. “And I’m not letting you do the lone-wolf thing today. Or tomorrow. Or probably ever again.”

He reached out, not quite touching, hovering just close enough to guide without forcing.

“Walk with me. I’m showing you Blüdhaven’s good spots. And no, you don’t get to argue. I’ve already marked your calendar.”

He moved toward the exit as if expecting them to follow, but he glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes were brighter—hopeful, maybe even excited, though he’d deny it if asked.

“It’ll be fun,” he insisted, voice slipping into an earnest rhythm. “You and me, no crime-fighting, no training, no gloom-and-doom Wayne Enterprises board meetings. Just… hanging out. Getting to know you. Properly.”

He didn’t quite hear how date-like that sounded.

Didn’t notice how his posture shifted, how he stood a little straighter, how his steps slowed so they could catch up with him if they chose to.

Didn’t see how his smile softened into something nervous at the edges.

“Trust me,” he added, quieter now. “You fit in more than you think. I just… want you to feel it too.”

He held the door open, waiting—not demanding, just hoping.