Tim sat hunched over his computer, reviewing surveillance footage from Gotham's latest string of break-ins. Dick occupied the couch behind him, half-listening to the reports while Jason complained about being dragged into what he insisted was a glorified paperwork session.

Y/N. Gotham's resident antihero. Thief, trespasser, occasional vigilante, and a persistent thorn in Batman's side. Her file was practically a novel at this point, and somehow, she still managed to slip through their fingers.

Except she wasn't alone.

A familiar figure stood beside her, clad in red, green, and black.

Robin.

Onscreen, Y/N said something that made Robin turn toward her. Whatever she'd said clearly amused him. She reached up, adjusted something on his uniform, and Damian simply stood there, allowing her to fuss over him.

Then she kissed his cheek.

Damian smiled. Not his usual smug smirk. Not the expression he wore after winning an argument. A genuine smile.

The Batcave went dead silent.

Dick stared at the screen, mouth slightly open.

He simply watched as Y/N took Damian's hand, said something else, and disappeared with him across the rooftops.

He said nothing.

And somehow, that was worse.