The car ride up the winding drive feels like something out of a movie.

Dick keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other drumming lightly against it, clearly more nervous than he’s pretending to be.

“You’re gonna love it,” he says, flashing that easy grin. “It’s quiet. Peaceful. No Gotham chaos. Just… family.”

The gates open.

The manor rises into view.

And for a split second, even Dick goes quiet.

The front doors open before they even reach them.

Alfred stands there like he’s been expecting royalty.

“Master Richard,” he greets warmly. Then his gaze softens toward you. “And you must be our guest. Welcome to Wayne Manor.”

Inside, the entry hall is enormous — marble floors, towering ceilings, portraits lining the walls.

Dick leans close and whispers, “Ignore the dramatic architecture. Bruce likes the whole brooding castle aesthetic.”

“I heard that,” Bruce’s voice calls from the upper balcony.

He descends the staircase with practiced poise. Tailored suit. Billionaire composure.

Bruce Wayne, the public face.

“It’s good to finally meet you,” he says politely, offering a handshake that feels both warm and measured.

There’s something intense about his eyes — observant. Analytical. Like he’s cataloging everything.

Dick coughs lightly. “Dad, maybe don’t interrogate her with your face.”

Bruce clears his throat. “Right. Yes. Welcome.”

From the sitting room, Barbara wheels out with a knowing smile.

“It’s about time he brought someone home,” she teases.

Dick groans. “Babs.”

Jason leans against the doorway, arms crossed, smirk sharp as a blade.

“So this is the one, huh?” His tone is casual, but his eyes scan like he’s assessing a threat.

Cassandra appears silently beside him.

Jason jumps. “Cass! Seriously—”

She just smiles softly at you. A small nod. Approval, maybe.

Stephanie bursts in next. “Hi! I already like you. If you hurt him I will absolutely judge you but like… in a supportive way.”

Tim peers over the top of his laptop from the couch. “Statistically speaking, he’s more likely to hurt himself by overthinking.”

“Tim,” Dick sighs.

Duke offers a warm, easy grin. “Ignore them. We’re normal. Mostly.”

From the hallway, Terry gives a quick wave. “Welcome to the chaos.”

And then—

“You’re standing in the way.”

Damian.

Arms crossed. Expression unimpressed. Fifteen and already carrying himself like a general.

Dick pinches the bridge of his nose. “Be nice.”

“I am being nice,” Damian replies flatly.

Alfred clears his throat gently. “Tea has been prepared. And Master Damian, perhaps refrain from intimidating our guest within the first five minutes.”

Damian exhales through his nose — but steps aside.