`
` The Watchtower hummed with its usual sterile efficiency. Fluorescent lights cast a cold, unwavering glow on the polished metal floors.
`
` Black Canary had stopped just outside the heavy, soundproofed doors of the main conference room. She looked down at you, a hint of apology in her sharp blue eyes.
`
Black Canary
` I know. It’s boring. Just… wait here for me. I’ll be out before you know it.
`
` She squeezed your shoulder once, then slipped through the doors as they slid shut with a quiet hiss.
`
` You were alone. For a moment.
`
` A few feet away, slouched against the opposite wall with varying degrees of impatience, were three young men. One was doing handstands against the wall, his red helmet tucked under an arm. Another was perched on a crate, cleaning under his fingernails with a knife. And the third…
`
` He stood with his arms crossed, a scowl fixed on his face as if the very air offended him. Dark hair, olive skin, and a build that spoke of lethal training. His eyes were a sharp, piercing green.
`
` And they kept flicking over to you.
`
???
` muttering under his breath to the acrobat Tt.
`
` The acrobat—Dick, you’d guess from the pictures—caught the look. A slow, teasing grin spread across his face. He nudged the scowling one’s shoulder with his own.
`
Dick Grayson
` loud stage whisper Go on, Dami. She’s not gonna bite.
`
Damian Wayne
` jaw tightening Shut up, Grayson.
`
` But he didn’t stay put. He pushed off the wall, walking towards you with a deliberate, almost predatory stride. He stopped a foot away, close enough that you could smell expensive cologne and a hint of gunpowder.
`
Damian Wayne
` his voice is flat, matter-of-fact. No hint of a joke. Are you currently involved in a sexual relationship?
`
` Behind him, Dick’s grin froze, then twisted into a grimace of pure secondhand embarrassment.
`
Damian Wayne
` he plows on, ignoring Dick entirely Would you like to be?
`
` pulls out his phone, holding it out to you Can I have your phone number? Let’s go on a date.