In the last ten minutes, she decided this office had the worst waiting room as far as magazines. Skydiving magazines. Motorcycle Aficionado. Why would they choose these magazines considering it was a spinal injury clinic? It just wasn't common sense. Oh, and there was the AARP quarterly review. Absolutely terrible choices. Normally it wouldn't bother her, but quiet ranting about reading material seemed like a much better option than thinking about how they were going to try to fix her broken body.

Again.

She'd have to talk to Bruce about the selection … he owned the damn clinic, after all.

"It's going to be a few more minutes," Barbara heard from behind her. Dinah handed her a cup of water and sat down in the empty chair next to Zinda, who had grabbed Motorcycle Aficiando. "The lady at the desk said your doctor is running behind, but everything is being prepped.

"Good. Great."

Dinah looked at her. "Okay, you've been like this since we picked you up. You were fine when we left for patrol last night — so is it just nerves or something else?"

"I—"

"Did something happen?" she asked, her hand in Barbara's.

"So the surgery's tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yeah," she smirked weakly, rolling back to her computer, "bright and early in the morning." She tried not to eye him for too long, but it had been a while since she saw him in anything but his costume — he always looked nice in jeans.

"Bruce told me," Dick said, his free hand fiddling with a pencil on her side desk, "that it could … that it could be the big one. The one that fixes everything."

"Um, yeah," she said, looking at her hands, still placed on the keyboard. "Total spinal repair. Apparently we should have results right away. If it works."

He turned to look at her. "That's… that's great!"

"If it works," she repeated. "There are no guarantees, Dick." She couldn't get her hopes up. She wouldn't get her hopes up.

"Still," he said, "That's huge. I mean, this really could be it, right?"

"Yeah. I guess so." She hated when people said it like that. She hated when the people who mattered said it like that.

Silence hit the room. Dick moved towards the window, picking at the sill.

"So, we're not going to talk about it, are we?" He finally said, his voice strained.

She tensed. "I don't want to get into it—"

"What part?" Dick said bitterly, "Where we slept together or the part where you left without saying goodbye?"

She didn't respond, instead turning back to her work. He waited — she could feel him staring at her — but she knew he wouldn't let it go. And sure enough—

"Three weeks," he said, pacing behind her, "I've been waiting to hear from you. Just … just to know where we are. I wouldn't have even known the surgery had been moved forward if it wasn't for Tim thinking I already knew. I didn't want to push you, but … damnit Babs, will you just talk to me?!"

She spun her chair around. "What do you want me to say, Dick?" she snapped. "We had sex. It wouldn't be the first time."

"It's the first time since we stopped being us, Barbara! You don't think that's significant?"

"I didn't say—"

"And yeah we had sex!" He was pacing now. "You know what else? It was one of the best nights of my life!"

Silence hit again and Barbara realized Dick hadn't meant to give up that little detail.

"You're doing it again," she whispered, looking him straight in the eye.

"What? What am I doing?"

She exhaled. "You're stuck in the past, Dick. You're still in love with that girl in the cape."

He glared at her. "That is not what this is," he gritted.

"Isn't it? We got drunk and had sex again and suddenly you're over the moon—"

"Because it can't possibly be my real feelings for you, right?!" he shouted. "Do you think that little of yourself that I couldn't possibly be in—"

"Get out!" she shouted.

"Barbara—" he tried, but she threw her pen at his face. She was burning on the fury and she didn't quite know why, but it kept her going. "Get out of my fucking face!" He stared at her with mountains of hurt that she just couldn't bear. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for his move — it was only when she heard the door close behind him that she dared look up again.

"Barb?" Dinah said when she didn't immediately respond, "I asked if something happened."

"No," Barbara shook her head, "Just early morning nerves, you know?"

And maybe a good dose of confusion over stupid boys, she thought as she took a drink of water, and how you make a big mess of your friendship by giving into your feelings. I couldn't just get over him, could I? No, I had to sleep with him. It took three years for us to get to this point of friendship again and what the hell am I supposed to —

"So, it has nothing to do with Dick Grayson storming out of the apartment last night?"

Barbara sprayed the last half of her water cup in a cartoonish spit-take. It would have been hilarious if she wasn't sleep deprived and it was happening to someone else.

"H—" she coughed, "how did—"

"Helena was coming by HQ when she saw him exit the lobby," Dinah said, patting Barbara on the back to help the water go down, "She decided not to get in the middle of anything."

"There's," she caught her breath, "there's nothing to get in the middle of."

"Sure there isn't."

Dinah got quiet and Barbara noticed that Zinda was thankfully invested in her magazine and not paying attention, so maybe the tropic would get dropped—

"I wasn't going to say anything," Dinah said, "because I know you had today to deal with. But frankly, you look lovesick."

"Don't use that word, Di," Barbara snapped.

"What else am I supposed to call it?" she threw right back.

"It's … it's more complicated than that."

"I'm not saying it isn't. I know that there's a lot of history between you and it's anything but simple. But things have been off with you since you went to see him last month and now with last night … just answer me this," Dinah leaned in, touching her arm, "Are you in love with him?"

Barb paused, focusing on the chipped tile in front of her chair. She knew the answer, but saying it out loud made it and all it's consequences real. She exhaled.

"I—"

"Gordon? Barbara Gordon?" called the nurse. Barb ignored her friend's sigh as she raised her hand.

"Oh swell," Zinda said as she stood and stretched, "About time we got this show on the road!"

"And it's okay to have them in the room?" Barbara asked the nurse as she rolled to the double doors, her friends in tow.

"For the prep work? Absolutely, Miss Gordon," the nurse smiled and let her move through the doorway, "They'll have to watch from the observation window when the actual procedure, but we also have a private waiting room if they have issues with blood."

"Oh, I doubt that'll be a problem," Barbara said with a smirk. Zinda smiled back; Dinah was more somber.

"So," Barbara cleared her throat, "is there anything they should know before—"

"Babs!"

She turned around in time to see Dick running towards her at full sprint, the double doors swinging behind him.

"Babs, wait!"

"Dick … what—" Barbara barely managed as he reached her.

"I need … to talk to you," he panted, catching his breath with his hand against the wall.

"Understatement of the year," Dinah muttered behind her.

"Dick," Barbara said, ignoring her friend, "I really don't think this is the best time. We can talk after—"

"No," he shook his head, "it has to be now."

"Sir," she heard the nurse say behind her, "I'm sorry, but this is a restricted area." But Dick didn't seem to hear her, his eyes only on Barbara.

"Barb, can I just … can I have five minutes?"

"Look, sir," the nurse moved in front of Barbara, her arms crossed, "I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just—"

"Could," Barbara interrupted, "could I just have a few minutes? Please?"

The nurse squinted her eyes, looking between Barbara and Dick before her shoulders relaxed. "Alright," she sighed, "but five minutes." She pointed her finger at Dick, who tensed and put his hands up. Barbara waited until Zinda, Dinah and the nurse moved far enough down the hall to be out of ear shot to speak up.

"You know, to be honest I'm surprised you didn't pull the 'Bruce Wayne's son' card on her," she joked. He just stood there, still breathing a little hard and looking at her like he was on the cusp of saying something but just couldn't get it out.

She sighed. "Look Dick, if you're here to apologize—"

"Babs—"

"We both said things last night," she said as she wrung her hands, "and I shouldn't have left that night without an explanation—"

"Babs, stop." He knelt down to her level, grabbing her hands to steady them.

"You have nothing to apologize about," he said, "I know why you left that night."

"You do?"

He nodded. "I've hurt you before. You don't want to get hurt again and I can't blame you for that. But you were wrong about one thing."

She shivered a little as his thumbs rubbed the back of her hands. "And—and what's that?"

"That I'm in love with who you were before the chair."

She winced. "Dick—"

"I think I was, once," he said, avoiding her eye, "Even if I didn't want to believe it, I was living in the past. It wasn't fair to you and I get why we didn't work.

"But now … Babs, I'm in love with you." He looked up. "In all of your genius and no-nonsenseness and your Oracleness. I'm in love with the Barbara you are right now."

And that's when she realized he was on his knees.

"That's why I needed to see you before you got in there," he continued, "Because I need you to understand that whether the surgery works or not, my feelings for you won't change. Not a bit."

He pulled out a ring. And her heart skipped.

"Barbara Gordon," he said, his eyes piercing hers, "You are my best friend and one of my favorite people in the whole world and I love you. I know what I want my future to be and it includes you by my side … and it doesn't matter to me whether you're standing or in this chair."

The tears started welling in her eyes.

"That is," he said nervously, "if you'll have m—"

She pulled him up to her and brought him into a kiss, which he enthusiastically returned once his brain caught up with their lips.

"Is that," he broke away, "is that a yes, Gordon?"

"What do you think, Grayson?" she said with a weepy smile.

He grinned back, taking her left hand to put the ring in its proper place. It was an engagement ring in the simplest sense — a gold band and a diamond in the center.

"Oh thank god, it fits," he exhaled.

"Yeah, lucky you," she chuckled, wiping away the tears with her right sleeve, "You sure got it on short notice."

"Not quite. It was my mother's," he said with a smile as he still held her hand, "I always said she would have liked you."

She couldn't stop smiling, even through the tears. But they were happy tears for once, and when he leaned back in and their foreheads touched, she felt completely at peace for the first time in a long time.

"Barbara, darlin'," she heard Zinda call. Turning around, she realized her friends had been standing closer than she realized — Zinda was grinning and Dinah was full-out weeping, blowing her nose with a tissue.

"I hate to cut in," Zinda said, "but the nurse is about to raise hell if we don't get the show on the road."

"Barbara," Dinah said, catching her breath, "are you still okay to do this?"

She paused. "Are you kidding?" She looked between all three of them. "You think a little thing like getting engaged is going to stop me from getting my legs back!?"

She kissed Dick for good measure, pouring everything she could into the embrace.

"I'll be here when you wake up," he whispered against her mouth, "no matter what the outcome."

She smiled and nipped at his lower lip one more time. "See you on the other side, Grayson."