Dick couldn’t believe Bruce had asked him to do this and he’d agreed. Sure. For the mission. But really Bruce? Making Dick pretend to be an escort? Ok. Dick had the looks and the body and the butt… Actually… It made a lot of sense… Dick was still offended though!

As he entered the lounge, Dick looked around for his target. He felt really confident, dressed provocatively. A sequin suit. Bam! Sexy. All in Nightwing blue… And to top it off, Dick bedazzled a pair of platform heels to complete the look. He felt like hell on wheels, even if Bruce had face-palmed and Jason cringed and Tim just sighed and Damian had several choice words. Dick was hot and he knew it… Even if Alfred gave him the eyebrow…

The sequin suit was bangin’. End of story.

Glancing around, Dick clutches his denim murse and picks out someone who looks like the target. With a confident saunter, Dick walks over and sits next to them at the bar. Smiling in a way he knows makes his dimples prominent, he turns to the “target”, and speaking in a low, sultry tone, Dick leans in.

“Care to treat a guy to a drink?”

His end goal was clear: get the “target” to hire him as an escort and then use that job to track them back to their base or home or whatever to plant mics and cameras. They needed as much information out of this person as they could get. All of it tracking back to a drug ring that had been dabbling in kid dealers. Just as he gets confident enough to slide the business card Tim made for his fake escort service over to the “target”, the comm in his ear sparks to life.

“Dick, your target just walked in.”

Oh no… He got the wrong person, and now the “target” was looking at the business card and worst of all… They looked interested!