Dick had only put up token resistance to Wally's offer to take him out for lunch before letting the speedster drag him out the door, grumbling about leaving work unfinished.

"You've got plenty of time for work," Wally said, opening the passenger car door for him. "Tim agreed to help lighten your workload, and we'll be back before dark. I promise." Wally would have preferred to do dinner and not worry about keeping to a schedule, but with Bruce gone and Gotham still unstable from the recent chaos of its holy shit there's no Batman phase, it just wasn't feasible.

Dick stuck his tongue out at him. Wally snorted and shut the door in his face, zipping around to the driver's side. They were acting as civilians today… mostly.

"Relax, babe," Wally said, navigating the car down the winding road that joined Wayne Manor to the rest of Gotham City. "Gotham isn't going to fall apart without you for a few hours."

"Easy for you to say," Dick muttered. Wally booped his nose, complete with sound effects, and the younger man's frown morphed into a grudging half-smile. "Okay, fine. I'll chill out. Where are we going?"

"You'll find out when we get there," Wally sang obnoxiously, making Dick punch his shoulder. "Hey! Don't punch the driver!"

"Keep your eyes on the road, Jeeves," Dick said sternly, settling back into his seat. He'd started bulking up so he could carve a more intimidating figure as Batman and Wally had to fight the urge to squeeze his muscular thighs. There hadn't been much downtime for the two of them since Bruce had been killed and all his former responsibilities had been thrown into Dick's lap. The tension had them snapping at each other with increasing frequency until Dick had all but banned Wally from the Batcave when he was working, which was practically all the time. Dick was always so exhausted when he finally went to bed that he fell asleep almost immediately. The two of them had barely had the chance to touch each other for so long.

Wally tore his eyes from Dick and back onto the road, thanking his lucky stars for speedster reflexes. If Dick were anybody else, he probably wouldn't have noticed.

"See something you like?" Dick teased, giving him his best thousand-watt smile before tossing his hair back. He suddenly seemed about twenty years younger.

"Oh, you know, just some guy. Don't tell him, though. Wouldn't want it to go to his head. He already thinks way too much of himself."

"There's nothing wrong with a healthy ego, Wally." Dick was still smiling. When was the last time he had smiled like that? Wally couldn't remember. "I seem to remember a certain speedster thinking he was God's gift to women a while back."

"That was ten years ago," Wally whined, stopping at a traffic light. "You can't hold me responsible for what I did at fifteen years old. At least I didn't murder people." Wally regretted the words the instant they were out of his mouth.

Dick rolled his eyes at him. "No need to get nasty. I was just making a point." He didn't sound upset, thank God. "You still wanted to kiss me even after you found that out, so let's just say we both suck."

"Not as often as we used to…"

Dick sighed. "I left myself wide open for that one."

"Not as much as—"

"Stop."

Wally turned the car into a parking lot nearby. There were fewer people going out in the wake of Gotham's little crime spree. Alfred had lent him one of the less ostentatious cars Bruce had owned—well, they were probably Dick's now—so they wouldn't be as liable to carjacking or vandalism or anything of that nature. In fact, the fancier cars pretty much did nothing but gather dust in the manor's underground garage these days.

"I've seen about six different eating places in the local area," Dick said, unfastening his seatbelt. "Given your insistence that we're on a romantic date, I'm going to assume we're not getting fast food, so that removes half of them. Now we're left with a sushi place, an Italian restaurant and an Indian place that serves the spiciest food on Gotham. I'm assuming you don't want to burn my tongue into oblivion today, so that one's out. That leaves us with either sushi or Italian. How am I doing so far?"

Wally groaned and rested his face against the steering wheel. "I hate you so much."

"But wait, there's more," Dick said brightly, pressing the button to release Wally's seatbelt. "You always complain about sushi not being filling and the particular Italian restaurant we're near has a reputation for enormous portion sizes, which is totally your thing. We're having Italian."

"Oh my God, Dick. Can't you just turn off the detective brain and let me surprise you for once?"

Dick laughed at his forlorn expression. "Nope. Can't turn it off. Small price to pay for being a genius." He pressed a kiss onto Wally's temple. "And I don't know what you mean with this 'for once' business. You've surprised me plenty of times. Now, come on. I'm hungry."

As if just to be doubly annoying, Dick led the way to the restaurant with Wally trailing after him, grumbling under his breath. The reversal of roles would've been funny on another day, maybe, if Wally wasn't already freaking out on the inside. He felt for the box in his pocket, letting out a breath when he found it still there. Hopefully Dick wouldn't figure out that part of his plans until the time was right.

The restaurant was a little place nestled between a Mom and Pop store and a coffeehouse, right across from the botanical gardens. A few Gothamites chatted and smoked in between bites of their lunch in the tables and chairs on the sidewalk, as it was a non-smoking area inside. Wally reached for Dick's hand, taking the lead at last, and pushed open the door.

It was like stepping into somebody's house. The worn wooden floors were the colour of honey and photos hung in frames on the cream walls. A collection of pot plants decorated the corners. Dick ran his finger along a leaf while Wally spoke to the hostess, a squat, older lady who reminded Dick of the Haly's Circus cook.

After a moment, the woman raised her voice so Dick could hear her. "Come." Her voice was brisk, but not altogether unpleasant. She beckoned them onwards, already heading further into the restaurant. She barked instructions in Italian to a few young waiters she passed before finally leading the two men to a table in the corner, where she left them with a small smile.

"Busy lady," Dick commented as the two of them sat down in polished wooden chairs that matched the floor.

"I think she's the owner," Wally replied. He was already reading the menu. Dick plucked his own from the red-and-white checkered tablecloth.

"So, how many dishes are we ordering just for you?" he said. "Five?"

"Three should do me." Wally grinned at him over the menu. "You probably won't finish one, but that's okay. I'll be happy to assist."

"I'll be sure to pick something we both like." Dick chuckled. "Not that it's hard. You'll eat anything."

"I like to think of it as one of my finer qualities."

A waitress came around and took their drink order before disappearing into the kitchen. Dick spent a moment gazing around the room, his eyebrows contracting slightly.

"What's on your mind, babe?"

"I can't remember the last time I left the house as, well, me." Dick smiled ruefully. "Things have been hectic lately."

"Yeah, they have. But we are so not talking about that right now. I got you out of the house to get you away from all that." Wally reached for Dick's hand, intertwining their fingers. Dick looked down at their hands and his expression seemed to soften a little.

"Okay." He kissed the knuckles on Wally's fingers one-by-one, apparently forgetting they were in public. Wally didn't mind. If they were recognised, their relationship was old news by now anyway. It was unusual for Dick to do things without thinking, so Wally just sat back and enjoyed his boyfriend's momentary lapse in paranoia.

Dick snapped back to himself when the waitress returned with their drinks, hastily taking a sip of his coke to avoid the wink she threw his way. Wally held back a laugh purely because he enjoyed Dick's lapses far too much and never wanted him to stop. They tended to happen most often when Dick had been overworking himself—'detective fatigue', Wally liked to call it.

They ordered their lunch and blushed at the waitress's knowing little smirk as she left them. Dick appeared to be fascinated by one of the nearby photos on the wall. Wally wanted to kiss the colour that sat high in his cheeks, feel the heat on his lips. Maybe he could convince Dick to take the night off for the first time since things started going to hell. Wally missed their time together, even though he understood why Dick didn't have much time for him anymore. It wasn't easy having to juggle Batman, Wayne Enterprises (even with Tim's help), dupe everybody into thinking Bruce is merely overseas, and manage a family in mourning.

But that thought only further cemented the idea in Wally's mind. They'd had a hard few months, and had to take their breaks and their happiness where they could find them… while they still could find them. Dick had suffered immensely in the wake of Bruce's death. It was strange to think that it was only a short time ago that the man had still been with them. Wally had held off the idea of proposing at first while Dick found his feet, but the thought of waiting any longer and potentially losing the chance haunted him.

Dick nudged his foot. "What are you thinking about?"

Wally shrugged. "Stuff."

Dick gave him a look. "Right."

A waiter put a basket of bread on the table with a little tub of olive oil for dipping. Wally rubbed his hands together and took a piece. Dick didn't bother; if the portions were as big as they were rumoured to be, he was going to need all the space in his stomach he could save. Wally moaned obscenely with a piece of bread in his mouth, making Dick laugh.

"That good, huh?"

Wally swallowed his bite. "Best bread ever, man. Here, try a bit."

Dick took the piece offered and dunked it in the olive oil before popping it in his mouth. He gave Wally a thumbs-up, but rejected the next piece his boyfriend tried to send his way. His stomach was not a bottomless pit, thank you very much. Wally took it upon himself to eat all the bread, chattering about silly things between bites.

Their food eventually arrived and Wally spent a few minutes sampling everything, moaning again and drawing amused stares from the other patrons. Dick hid his smirk behind the hand holding his fork as he tried to chew his gnocchi without choking.

"Should I leave you four alone?" he said once he'd managed to swallow.

"Relax, babe. Everybody gets a piece of the Wall-man."

Dick had chosen the wrong time to take a sip of his drink, nearly spitting it everywhere. Wally laughed loudly at him.

"Oh, hush," Dick said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "For one of the least promiscuous people I know—"

"Says one of the most promiscuous people I know."

"Feeling threatened… Wall-man?"

"Me? Pfft. As if." Wally stuffed several bites of risotto into his mouth.

"Aw, it's okay," Dick said sweetly. "You know I've only got eyes for you, sweetums."

Wally swallowed his food in a hurry to stop himself from choking, taking a hasty sip of lemonade to clear his throat. "Sweetums? Really?"

"You called me 'sugarbutt' in front of the Team and the League the other day," Dick reminded him. "I can't let you corner the market on gross pet names, now can I?"

"Hey, I apologised for that!"

"Only because half the Team threatened you." Dick went back to his neglected gnocchi.

"Yeah, the half you've slept with," Wally muttered.

"I don't hear you complaining when I'm showing you what I learned from all my, uh, whoring around," Dick said, barely loud enough to carry across the table. He was wearing the same smirk he had the night all their self-control was shot to hell and they ended up in his bed. Wally had to look away, a shiver running down his spine at the memory. It would be just like Dick to turn him on in public just to embarrass him.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"And it wasn't half, Wally. God."

"Either name's fine, babe."

"I'm going to stab you."

Wally waggled his eyebrows. "That's my job."

"I—" Dick cut himself off, staring at Wally like he was about to flip the table over right in his face. "You're unbelievable. Just…" He dropped his head onto the table. "Unbelievable."

Wally took that as a compliment. "So, you gonna eat that?"

"Ugh, just take it away from me before I explode and/or shove your face in it."

"Love you too, babe." Wally took the bowl away from him, shoving the stacked plates and bowls he had finished with off to the side to make room. He looked up at Dick, who had recovered enough to take a long slurp of his coke. "So, you wanna order dessert?"

Dick looked at him with wide eyes. "You're insane. Let's do it."

The remaining gnocchi was gone in a heartbeat. Their favourite waitress came to take the dishes away and Wally asked to look at the dessert menu. While she was depositing the plates in the kitchen, Wally watched Dick make a subtle sweep of the room. He had relaxed since leaving the house, but there was always a little bit of him on guard. Wally found it endearing, really. He wondered about when to bring out the box. Should he do it after they order dessert but before it arrives? During dessert? Right afterwards? No, that was too late. As the dessert arrives? Maybe. Or maybe he could just wait for a lull in the conversation while they were waiting for dessert. He was thinking way too hard about this.

The waitress brought a menu around and Dick and Wally quickly picked out their desserts. As the waitress walked away again, Dick fixed Wally with another one of his looks.

"You're tense," he said, letting the question of why hang, unasked, in the air between them. Dick was good at that, asking but not asking. Probably picked it up from Bruce.

"Just thinking," Wally replied quietly, not quite able to feign levity like he may have under different circumstances.

"About?"

"…Us." Wally let out a breath. Now. Do it now.

"Oh?" Dick's eyebrows contracted briefly before he smoothed out his face. Oh shit he's giving me the poker face oh shit oh shit

"It's nothing bad," Wally said hastily.

Dick blinked, but gave no other reaction; he'd officially shut down his facial expressions.

"Dick, I mean it. It's okay."

"Okay…" Dick forced a smile onto his face, but at least it touched his eyes so it wasn't entirely fake. "What exactly were you thinking about us?"

Wally suddenly felt self-conscious. He was about to make a total fool out of himself in front of a restaurant full of people. But why did he even care about them?

Wally reached out and grasped Dick's hand, running his thumb along the knuckle of Dick's. "Oh, you know, we've known each other for a long time. Dated on and off. We've been pretty serious for a while. Hell, even your little demon brother doesn't seem to actively hate me anymore."

"I may or may not have had something to do with that." Dick's face had opened up again at last. Crisis averted.

"Well, uh, thanks." Wally laughed nervously. "Um, anyway, before Bruce, uh, you know… passed… he and I were talking about stuff." Dick's face had shuttered a little again at the mention of Bruce. "I mean, you know he wasn't totally happy about us dating again after I broke your heart last time, but he'd kind of… warmed up to the idea. Said that as long as I was making you happy, he was happy."

"That's nice of him," Dick said, a little vaguely. The memory of Bruce was still painful. Wally squeezed his hand tight.

"I'm sorry for bringing him up, but I wanted to tell you he… gave us his blessing."

Dick's eyes sharpened. "You're not talking about him being cool with us dating anymore."

"You're right. I'm not." Wally slid off his chair and knelt on the floor in front of Dick, his heart catapulting into his eardrums as he fumbled in his pocket for the box. There was a sharp intake of breath above him and Wally looked up to find Dick's eyes had widened to vaguely the size of the pasta bowls that had recently been on the table.

"Wally…"

"Dick. Babe." Wally finally got the box free and opened it with his free hand. "Will you marry me?"

"Holy shit, Wally."

"We don't have to do it, like, tomorrow," Wally said quickly. "I just thought, you know, when things have settled down a little—"

"Oh my God. Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes!"

Wally pulled out one of the two diamond-encrusted platinum rings—thank you, Bruce—from the box and slid it onto Dick's left ring finger.

"Ooh, a second ring?" Dick said. "Thank God for that."

"What?" Wally was still reeling.

"Just because I'm the pretty one doesn't make me the woman in this relationship," Dick said, plucking the other ring from the box and slipping it onto Wally's finger. "Now get up and kiss me."

The whole restaurant applauded as Wally got to his feet, pulled Dick from the chair, and pressed their lips together. Dick threw his arms around Wally's neck, pressing as close as humanly possible.

Dick did end up taking the night off after all.