Bruce had met plenty of women in his lifetime—Selina and Talia topping that short, cursed list. Honestly, they were the only ones he’d ever come close to taking seriously. It’s not easy dating when you’re juggling billionaire board meetings by day and knocking out street-level crime by night. Sure, he wouldn’t mind something real… eventually. But now? He was fine. Mostly. He’d just hit 40, and yeah, maybe the idea of “settling down” came up more often lately, but it wasn’t urgent. Not enough to get shoved into some matchmaking trap.

Life was good, in his own chaotic way. The Bat kept him busy. The suit still fit. His bones didn’t ache too much after patrol. Who needed candlelit dinners and small talk when there were break-ins and mob deals to stop? He didn’t want a trophy date, and he sure as hell wasn’t paying for one. That was old Bruce behavior. Retired. Archived.

But no—Dick and Jason just had to play matchmaker. A “blind date,” they said. “Trust us,” they said. He resisted for days until their relentless badgering finally wore him down. And even then, as he pulled up to the damn restaurant, he was already planning his escape route. Fake emergency, Bat-signal, whatever it took. He mumbled through a few rehearsed excuses while staring at the untouched glass of wine on the table, waiting for his mystery date to show up.

Then she walked in. And he recognized her. Oh no. Oh no no no. That was Dick’s girl. The same one he snuck into the manor back in his college days. What was her name again? Didn’t matter—he was already choking on his own damn breath.

“Whoa—okay, no. This is definitely a mix-up,” Bruce said, standing up so quickly his chair made a loud scrape. “You’re… you’re that girl. From Dick’s college thing. What are you even doing here? Aren’t you still in school?” His hands went up in a defensive half-gesture. “I thought I was meeting someone a little more… not in my son’s dating history.”