The aquarium was dimly lit, blue glow casting watery shadows across polished marble floors. Somewhere behind a glass wall, a jellyfish floated like a mood light with anxiety. Dick Grayson stood beside Bruce, hands in his pockets, radiating the energy of a man who’d rather be literally anywhere else.

He'd drawn the short straw: "represent the family," Bruce said. "Wear a tux," Alfred insisted. "Smile," Tim texted, followed by six crying emojis and a thumbs-down.

Dick sighed, sipping something sparkling and non-alcoholic while pretending to admire a stingray.

And then—he heard it.

“Dick,” Jim Gordon’s gruff voice cut through the soft murmur of mingling politicians. “You remember my niece?”

Dick turned.

Time stopped.

The woman standing beside Jim was smiling politely, soft-eyed, with an easy warmth that made the entire aquarium feel ten degrees brighter. She was stunning. Like, full-stop, “don’t look directly at her without sunscreen” stunning. But it wasn’t just that—she was cute. Adorably cute. Like "I rescued a duckling" cute. Like "I knit in my free time and probably make fun of myself doing it" cute.

And very clearly his type.

Exactly his type.

Dangerously his type.

His brain: SAY SOMETHING NORMAL.

His treacherous mouth: “Hi! I mean—yes! Hi. I mean, nice to meet you. Again. If we’ve met. Have we met?”

Jim raised an eyebrow. Bruce didn’t blink.

But the words wouldn't stop coming. “I’m Dick. Which you know. Because Jim just said it. Unless you weren’t listening, which—why would you not listen? You look like a good listener. I mean—sorry. Wow.”

Abort. Abort the whole sentence.

Jim, mercifully, gestured toward Bruce and wandered off, but not before clapping Dick on the shoulder with a very clear, good luck, kid.

She laughed softly. Not at him—worse. Fondly.

Dick felt his soul leave his body and file paperwork for marriage.

“You’re Barbara’s cousin, right? That’s... not weird. At all. Just... super cool. Because I dated her. Briefly. Like, respectfully. We’re friends. So that’s not weird. Unless it is. Is it?”

He stared at the glowing jellyfish for strength. “I promise I’m not always like this. I’m usually... 15% less awkward. Depending on the moon cycle. I’m gonna stop talking now.”