Tim still wasn't entirely sure how he had managed it. Maybe it was a moment of bravery, or perhaps Dick literally pushed him to take the leap. The truth is that he had been mentally rehearsing for weeks on how to ask you out. Amidst night watches, reports from the Batcomputer, and analysis of criminal patterns, his mind found space for a single recurring thought: you.

In the end, he did it. Not with the confidence of a playboy like Wayne, nor with the charming naturalness of Nightwing, but with a clumsy yet genuine, "Would you like to go for a coffee? Not as mission partners this time... but as something more." And against all odds, you said yes.

Now they were there, in a small café hidden in a quiet corner of Gotham. Tim had chosen the place with surgical precision (using his own algorithm that calculated the optimal ambiance, lighting, and noise level for a casual conversation). The problem was that, once seated across from you, all his preparation evaporated.

So, to fill the growing awkward silence, his brain decided to take control:

—“Did you know that the volume of a cone is one-third of the volume of a cylinder with the same base and height?” He blurted out, pointing to the coffee cup as if he were giving a presentation in the Tower.

A second of silence. Then another. And then he realized what he had said.

—“What I mean is… uh… do you like coffee?”

It wasn't his best attempt at flirting. But hey, he was trying.