Hello! Another prompt this time (the last of the ones I have finished soh god, how did I let this happen?/em), this one an anonymous request for Jason/Dick with 28; "Marry me?" So here is some lovely fluff, and a bit of wish fulfillment on my part. Specifically, Lian Harper, Roy's freaking adorable daughter with Cheshire, is alive and well. And a fan of Jason's cooking. Enjoy!

It starts with Roy, because of fucking course it does. It's a casual conversation, a relaxed discussion about anything and everything that comes through our heads, as we lie out on the balcony of his apartment and enjoy the day off. Until he pauses, stares at my hand of all things, and asks the question.

"So when are you two actually getting married?"

I choke on my beer, but a couple seconds of coughing — and a solid thwack of Roy's hand to my back as I lean forward off the lounge chair — clears my throat enough that I can ask, "What?"

"You and Dick," Roy says, like that's what I needed clarification on. "I mean, you've thought about it, right? You guys have been together what, five years now? You're living together, you both practically read each other's minds; isn't getting married the next step?"

I stare at him. "I— No? It's never come up, and I'm legally dead remember? Legal paperwork is kind of a no fly zone for me. Why the fuck would you even ask, Roy?"

He hums, noncommittally, and avoids my gaze as he takes a drink from his glass. Just soda. "Well, he got engaged to Barbara and Kori; just saying. I mean, maybe he thinks you don't want to, or maybe he's just a little gunshy this time around. Still, figured you would have thought about it even if he hasn't brought it up."

"Gunshy?" I echo, and the son of a bitch still isn't meeting my eyes. Roy is a good friend but god sometimes I just want to strangle him. "What are you even talking about, Roy? Dick's never shied away from anything in his damn life."

A shrug this time, as Roy takes another drink. "Maybe not, but it must suck to propose to two separate people and then have the engagement broken off both times. That would probably leave anyone a little hesitant about asking a third time; like asking to get sucker punched." I swallow, something ringing a little too true in Roy's words, and of course that's when he decides to look over at me. Something in his expression looks knowing, and the way he raises an eyebrow without ever breaking my gaze is definitely deliberate. "Maybe he doesn't want to ask until he's sure you mean forever."

My jaw tightens. "Dick knows I'm serious," I snap. I am willing to take a lot of shit, especially from Roy, but when it comes to Dick? No. Fuck no. No one gets to call into question how much I love him.

Roy's not even a little phased by my tone. "Yeah? So what's the difference between serious and actually committing? Because right now, Jaybird — gotta say — I'm not sure it's coming through."

All I can do is stare at him, a hundred different words on my tongue but my brain refusing to connect them into a real counter. I can't argue that and fuck that bothers me. I love Dick, I swear I do, and he knows that. I've told him that time and time again, and proved it a hundred more times with the actions to back up my words. There's no way he actually believes I'd walk away from him at this point, right? He knows that I'd stay through anything, right? Haven't I proven that? Roy can't actually be right, can he?

There's the crash of a door, and I flinch and reach for a weapon but Roy doesn't even twitch. I turn, and watch the small child rush across Roy's apartment from the front door, her mouth in a wide grin as she neatly vaults over the arm of the couch on her way. I relax back into my lounge chair, and Roy calmly sets aside his soda just in time to neatly catch an armful of charging child. He swings her up above him, his mouth curving into a small grin as she laughs, and then he sets her down enough that her feet can balance to either side of his waist, on the plastic supports of the chair. His hands do stay lightly on her waist though, ready to steady her just in case.

"Hey, pumpkin," he says, with a softness to his gaze and his grin that just screams love.

Lian squirms, and makes an exaggerated irritated face. "Dad, don't call me that." Of course it dissolves a moment later, when she all but dives into his chest and wraps her arms around as much of him as she can get. It's not much, but it drags a smile to my face all the same.

"Whatever you say," he teases, his right arm wrapped around her back. "Have fun with your mom?" he asks, as Lian wiggles over and settles herself at his side, half sprawled over his chest but tucked underneath his arm.

She nods enthusiastically. "She taught me how to," I see Roy's opposite shoulder twitch in what I'm totally sure is worry, "do a handstand!"

He relaxes, fingers combing her hair back and away from her face. "Yeah? Well done, darling. You want any pointers, just ask Dick, alright? He can do the best handstands; he might even teach you how to do a cartwheel if you ask nicely."

I snort. "Or if you stand near him for more than five minutes," I tease.

Lian smiles up at me, all innocence and trust, and the tension just drains out of me. "Jay!" Then she's wiggling her way out of Roy's loose grip — he just watches with a crooked grin — and launching herself at me. I am less graceful at catching her, and take a surprisingly hard knee to the gut in the process. She's good though, so one point to me.

I hug her with one arm, carefully setting my beer off to the side and out of range of any wayward limbs. "Hey sweetheart," I murmur, "good to see you." She hugs me back. I am constantly surprised by how she manages to hold me as hard as most of my fully grown, vigilante friends. She almost hugs as hard as Roy, which is pretty damn impressive. She's going to be a terror by the time she's a teenager, especially considering her parents. God help the lucky bastard that she decides to be with when she's older, whatever gender they end up being. Roy and Jade are going to put that person through the ringer, and Dick and I will be right behind them.

"You know," Roy comments, "Jay and I were just talking about something."

I roll my eyes, and Lian straightens up. Now her knees are firmly digging into my stomach, considering she's kneeling on top of it, but I take the discomfort without a word. It's not that bad. "Roy…" I warn, with a glance at him. But oh god now Lian looks curious, so there goes that.

Roy clearly sees it too, because he does a piss poor job of hiding his grin as he says, "We were discussing when he's going to ask Dick to marry him." Her eyes light up, and I barely hold back a wince. "What do you think, darling?"

She looks down at me, and her eyes are wide and just slightly puzzled. "You love him, right?" she asks, full of innocent naivety and pure intention, and I just melt. Fuck.

"Yeah," I tell her, "of course I do."

She shrugs. "So ask him," she answers, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. I tilt my head back in defeat as she climbs off of me, sighing up at the sky and closing my eyes.

"I'll think about it," I halfway promise, before looking over at the two of them. Lian is climbing back up to sit on Roy's stomach, and he's watching her but he's still got that crooked, amused grin on his face. Oh, he knows exactly what he just did, the ass.

He steadies Lian as she plops down, and doesn't even make a face at her weight hitting him. "You hungry?" he asks instead, and her face lights up again.

"Yes!" she declares, and Roy laughs.

"Then how about we go make something tasty and leave Jay to lament his choice of friends? That sound good?" She nods, shifting back off of Roy's lap so he can start to get up — neatly snagging his soda from the ground — and then makes a face up at him.

"What does that mean?" is the innocent question, and Roy grins. Before he answers he leans down, scooping her off the ground with an ease that speaks of practice, settling her on his left shoulder to the sound of her delighted laughter.

"It means that I'm awesome," he says, grinning up at her. "Come on, let's go see what we can dig up in the cupboards, hm?"

I tilt my head back again as they go inside, almost raising a hand to massage the bridge of my nose, but managing to hold that back. Just barely. Roy's observations would be so much easier to handle if they weren't so true, damn him. Sure, totally insane, but also perceptive and right to the point. He's right, sometimes I almost regret having him as a friend.

The next second I'm rolling myself out of the lounge chair, grabbing my mostly empty beer and almost sprinting inside. Just in time, because I get to the kitchen just as Roy starts opening cupboards. He glances back at me, and I cuff him across the back of the head before leaning forward to shove the cupboard shut.

"Ow," he says, with no real feeling. "What was that for, Jaybird?"

I roll my eyes, edging around him to push him towards the safety of the table in the middle of the kitchen. Right where Lian already is; perched on the edge with her feet swinging from side to side. "You and a kitchen are a bad combination," I explain, pushing him into a chair. He goes pretty much willingly, with a grin, and I look over at Lian. "Lian, your dad has got a lot of talents, but cooking isn't one of them. Trust me." She laughs, and Roy holds both his hands up in surrender. "I'll cook something," I tell him, heading to the sink to wash my hands.

The sound of the water doesn't near drown out Lian's delighted cry of, "Yes!"

"Jason?"

I snap my head up, blinking, with a very intelligent, "Hm?"

Dick smiles, elbowing me in the ribs with just enough pressure for me to wince. "Having fun on that other planet?" he asks, tone soft and his hand petting down my closer thigh. "Certainly seems to have your attention."

I shift the arm I have slung around his shoulders, tracing my fingers down his bare arm and then angling myself towards him. "Sorry," I murmur, and manage a crooked grin. "Lost in my own thoughts, didn't mean to ignore you."

"It's fine," he promises, with a slightly brighter smile. "You alright? Anything I should know?"

I pause, swallow, and then lower my eyes for a moment. "We're okay, right?" Dick blinks, eyes widening just a touch, and I rush to expand on that. "I mean, this is good? You don't want more? You're happy with us like we are?" I give a one-armed shrug, lowering my gaze down to my own legs. "I know I'm not—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Dick almost snaps. "Yes, Jason. Of course we're good, of course I'm happy. Did something happen that made you think we weren't? Did I do something?" He's starting to get that guilty tinge to his eyes, and I shake my head and tighten my grip on his shoulders.

"No, of course not, Dick. Someone just said something stupid and I got stuck on it. I fixated; you know me." I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "Don't worry about it, alright? I'll spend another half an hour or so getting the last traces out of my head and it'll be done. Like it never happened."

He leans into me for a second, his head resting against my shoulder, and then pulls away. I watch him reach forward to grab the remote from the coffee table in front of us, clicking off…. God, what movie were we even supposed to be watching? I honestly don't remember, though I'm pretty sure I agreed to whatever it was. Probably. Wow, I knew I was lost in my own head — Roy's fault, the asshole — but I didn't think it was that bad. No wonder Dick was concerned.

He turns back to me, lightly touching my side and then swinging his right thigh up and over mine. He settles on my lap, and I give a soft smile as he braces his elbows on my shoulders and I automatically reach to touch either side of his waist. Ingrained habits. He doesn't need my support — especially not to balance — but I still like to give it, and it gives the added benefit of letting me touch his sides without needing any kind of a reason for it. Like I need a reason at all. Perks of dating Dick Grayson; I get to touch what everyone else has to just admire from afar, and I get to wrap him in my arms and never let go. I get to see him smile in the mornings, when he's all lazy warmth and affection, and I get to smile back and watch him glow.

God, he's beautiful, and I'm lucky.

"How about," he murmurs, with a slight teasing edge to his tone, "we get in some action, and get it out of your head that much faster?"

" 'Action?' " I echo, with a smirk. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

His fingers trace up the back of my neck, tangling in the short hair at the base of my skull. "Well, figured I'd leave the door open for either patrol or something…" His tongue swipes out, wetting his bottom lip, and I am not at all ashamed to say that the movement completely captures my attention. "More personal. What do you think, Jason?"

I raise my gaze back to his eyes. "You don't have to do that," I answer, squeezing his waist for a moment. "I'll be alright, Dick."

He gives a soft laugh, and then leans in and kisses me. I ease into the warm press of his mouth, the slight tug to my hair, the way his other hand clasps around the back of my neck. "You say that like it's some kind of chore," he whispers, when he pulls back just enough to separate our mouths. "Come on, Jason, let's head to bed." I open my eyes in time to catch the absolutely wicked twist of his mouth. "I promise to push you hard enough you can't think of anything, Little Wing."

I give a quiet groan that turns into a laugh midway through, and I can't help my smile, or the love that makes my chest ache, or the desire to drag him closer and never let him leave. "Deal."

The thought doesn't go away. Not after Dick's very well kept promise, or some of the best sleep I've had all week, or even waking up to him in my arms. So, at somewhere around five in the morning, when all I can do is stare at his face as he sleeps next to me, I give in to the idea.

Yes, I want Dick to marry me. I don't know how the fuck it's going to work, but I still want it and I think that he wants it too. At least I hope so. But that's the problem. How the fuck do I do this?

I could just blurt it at him, but that makes a large part of me cringe in embarrassment. Dick deserves more than some spur of the moment word vomit. He deserves for this to be prepared, be a real plan, not just something off the top of my head. At the very least, he deserves an actual ring and a real proposal. After that we can plan the rest, but that's the minimum.

Fuck, I don't want to give Dick the minimum. How does this even work? What did he do for Barbara, or Kori? What did Roy do for Jade, or did she ask him? This isn't the kind of information you can get from an internet search, which just leaves asking people. Shit.

Well, I guess the easiest place to start is the royal bastard himself. Roy. He got me into this mess, he can help me figure out how to actually do what he's stuck in my head. Maybe I won't even murder him at the end of all of this. I suppose that planning it will give me some time to come to terms with the idea of calling Dick my husband.

I hate doing it, but I carefully extract myself from Dick's grip, whispering, "Promised I'd stop by Roy's to help him with something," when he mumbles something protesting and groggily drags his eyes open for a moment. I press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and then another to his cheek. "Love you; go back to sleep."

What he mumbles back at me is probably something close to, 'I love you too,' since that's pretty much always his response, but I honestly can't understand it. So I content myself with giving him a third kiss — high near his temple — and then pulling the sheets up over his shoulders again.

Getting to Roy's is easy, especially since I'm weirdly awake considering the hour. I manage to resist the urge to show up in full gear, barely, so I just head over in normal civvies. Plus my jacket, of course. My motorcycle gets me there, and then I climb the fire escape up to the window of his bedroom. It's almost pitifully easy to pick the locks he's got, and then disable what I'm pretty sure is a trip wire for some kind of localized explosive. I'm still cautious, but opening the window — slowly — doesn't show any more nasty surprises so I just climb inside.

Roy's curled into his bed, head buried in a pillow pulled down along his chest and the sheets pooled around his waist. He's dead to the world, and I take the time to close the window, attach and lock his security again, and then loop around him and move his weapons out of reach. Mainly that's the sheathed knife under his other pillow, and the handgun tucked between the mattress and the headboard. I don't find anything else, but I can't check the pillow he's got under his head so I just take my chances.

I sit down heavily on the other side of the bed, and Roy jerks awake. He immediately flails for the gun, simultaneously flipping onto his back. I watch him realize the gun is gone, and then focus on me. His eyes are wide, adrenaline-fueled, and I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head a bit. He blows out a breath, collapsing back against the bed and lifting both arms to drag fingers back through his hair.

"Jesus Christ, Jason." He looks down at me, and I shift to sit cross legged, facing him. He glares; I'm not sure if it's because my boots are on the bed or because I freaked him out. "You could, I don't know, fucking call? Is it really too much to ask you to communicate like a normal human being?"

"Usually," I answer bluntly. "You awake now?"

His jaw works, and then he turns his head and looks at the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand. "I have been asleep for one hour, Jaybird, and I have to be up in two more to get Lian to school, so this better be really important."

I snort. "Sleep deprivation, big whoop." He glares a little harder, looks like he might be considering going for his knife — just sitting on the nightstand, only barely out of his reach — so I roll my eyes. "Look, you got this stupid idea stuck in my head so you're going to help me make it happen, got it?"

"Idea?" he grumbles, scrubbing his hand over his face. "What idea?" I don't answer, the words refusing to leave my mouth, and he moves his hand enough to look up at me. I wince when he stills, realization sparking in his eyes. "Wait, the marriage thing? You actually— Oh!" Suddenly he's pushing up, grinning ear to ear and giving a bark of laughter. "You're really going to do it? You're going to ask him to marry you?"

I tighten my jaw, and then grind out a grudging, "Yes." I barely resist the urge to cross my arms; I refuse to look that much like a kid right now. "You're an ass, you know that? You got this stupid idea in my head and now it won't go away, and I'm so pissed at you for that because I— Fuck." I scrub my hand over my face, the anger draining away to resignation. "I want it, and he deserves it, but I've got no fucking clue how to even start."

"Hey." I look back up at Roy, and he's still grinning but it's smaller now. He reaches out, clasping his hand over my knee. "You got it, Jaybird. Whatever you need from me, I'm there."

"How about a 'how to' guide?" I say, with sarcasm but also definitely just a little bit of a plea. "Fuck, what did you do?"

He laughs and shrugs, his hand pulling away. "Okay, I'm a terrible example to follow. Jade showed up with Lian in her arms and I married her because I figured it was the responsible thing to do. Bad idea; you know how that turned out. It wasn't really that romantic anyway. Just your classic over-dinner sort of thing; I didn't have the time to do anything else. Ring didn't even fit; wow was that embarrassing."

I snort at his expense, and then shove out a breath and straighten my shoulders. "Alright, so from scratch then. Awesome. So, you're going to put some pants on, we're going to head out to the kitchen, and you're going to tell me everything you know about what Dick did when he proposed to Barbara and Kori. Sound good?"

"Pants?" he echoes, with a teasing grin. "Do I have to?" I roll my eyes, turning to slide off the bed, and he laughs. "Yeah, sure. Who needs sleep? Let's do this!"

"You ready?" Roy asks, his head tilted to say it into my ear.

I manage a jerky shrug, and then a grin that probably looks more like a grimace. "I am so far from ready it's not even fucking funny," I hiss. "Fuck, Roy, what if he says no? What if he laughs? What if Bruce sees it happen and fucking tackles me or something to stop it?"

"Then I'll engage him in single combat and give you time to finish it out," Roy says easily, and then pats my shoulder. "Seriously, Jaybird, you'll be fine. Dick loves you; he'll say yes. And, if I do say so myself, this proposal is pretty damn beautiful. We did good."

Somehow, I manage to snort. "Yeah, you'd say that."

He throws his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me tight in against him. I almost punch him — or at least something violent — but manage to swallow it away. "It's going to work," Roy promises, holding me tight for another moment before pulling away. "Go on, Jaybird. He should be back any minute, go wait for him and I'll — subtly, don't worry — gather everybody else here at the main hall." One last grin, and then he spins and walks away, not giving me even the slightest chance to respond. Not unless I want to shout it across the room, and considering there's an audience of two at the other side of the hall — Flash and Bruce, over at the monitors — I really don't.

So I just glare at his back — anger letting me forget the horde of butterflies in my stomach for a great moment — and then huff and turn towards the teleporter. I get as close as I dare to it, and then sink down to sit on the ground and wait.

Whatever else Roy might be wrong about, he's not wrong about this. The reports came through; the mission Dick was out on — crafted by Roy, and guaranteed to be no real challenge to anyone — should be done in a minute, and he should be back pretty much immediately after that. I'm not usually even up in the Watchtower, but that's part of the surprise here.

Roy and I have 'accidentally' gathered all of Dick's closest friends. The whole family is here — fucking Bruce included — and so is an actually kind of alarming list of past and present Titans. The audience isn't helping any with the turning of my stomach, or the too-fast rate of my breathing. I really am trying to get ahold of myself, but it's hard. The weight of the ring is heavy in my pocket, and every moment I'm left alone with my thoughts is another moment for them to remind me how terrible this idea is, how badly thought out, how risky.

Honestly, what's the chance that everything here actually goes according to plan? Because I'd bet it's not high.

Even if Dick is perfect, and god is he fucking perfect, what about everyone else? Bruce has never seemed to approve of the relationship between us, Damian is a sarcastic, biting, little demon brat at the best of times, and Dick's teammates? Apart from Roy and Kori, I barely even know them. Enough to make small talk, or to coexist on an emergency team, but not enough to know more than their names, their powers, and their weaknesses. Really it's not more than a basic file's worth of information. How could any of them approve of me when they don't even know me?

The teleporter hums, and I focus my attention and get to my feet. I almost think it might be someone else, but then the figures in the middle materialize and the breath rushes out of my chest in relief.

Dick is in the front, looking none the worse for wear, with Beast Boy — Garth— and Tim behind him. Tim looks just a bit irritated, in the 'things didn't go the way I wanted' kind of way the whole family has learned to read off of him. I'd bet that's due to Roy meddling with this particular fight; Tim can be pretty sensitive when it comes to people fucking with what he thinks of as his responsibilities.

On the opposite end of the scale, Dick instantly smiles when he sees me, and walks towards me without another word. Tim and Garth peel off to head towards the monitors, and Bruce. I can't help responding to the smile, a smaller one curling my own mouth as he steps right up in front of me. His arms circle my waist, hands pressing flat against my back and drawing me in as he leans up for a kiss. Of course I give him one, loosely returning the embrace and lifting one of my hands to lightly cup the back of his skull.

He's all warmth and joy, and there's no way I can do anything but relax underneath his touch. He squeezes me tight for a moment, and then pulls back to rest his forehead against mine with a happy hum of sound.

"Welcome back," I murmur, just between us.

He makes another happy sound. "Thanks, Jay. What are you doing here?" Fair question; I don't get up on the Watchtower much.

"Just thought I'd surprise you." Half of a truth, but he seems to accept it. "Mission go alright?"

He shifts back, his hands sliding to rest on my waist. I open my eyes, and he's smiling brightly, crookedly, with just a hint of exasperation to his expression. "Boring," he tells me, "and long. If you want to hear, I'll tell you over some food?" He gives a soft laugh, and a shrug. "I'm pretty hungry."

I match his smile with my own crooked grin, pulling him back towards me. "Sounds good," I breathe, before gathering him into a second kiss. Only for a moment, then I huff out a laugh and let him go. "Always happy to be bored by you."

He shakes his head, and catches my hand as he turns away. "Jackass," he says, but with a smile and a tone that I'm sure is fondness.

"But yours," I counter. The pattern of muscle tells me that he's rolling his eyes behind the mask, and I go completely willingly when he starts pulling me across the room by our interlaced fingers.

Roy reemerges from whatever door he'd vanished into, trailing a group of a few others, and with Lian held in one arm. She is wearing a heart-stoppingly adorable miniature version of his old speedy costume, mask included, and looks thrilled beyond words. Roy catches my eye, and then gives me a grin and a nod. He's moving across the room to Cyborg — Victor — and that gives me all the information I need.

We're ready.

Dick gets me to about halfway across the room — pretty much as planned — before there's a small feedback sound through the Watchtower's speakers.

"If you could all please direct your attention to the spotlight," comes Victor's voice, and there's a few sharp moments of confusion from the gathered people, including Dick. Dick turns towards me, opens his mouth like he's going to say something, and then the lights click out. I can feel his fingers clench down on mine, but he doesn't have any time to react beyond that before a single light clicks back on.

Right over us.

I fight to keep the tension away from my shoulders, reaching out to catch Dick's other hand as he turns fully towards me. He looks confused, and maybe a little wary, and I force myself to swallow and not to clear my throat. It's almost better that the rest of the lights are off, it means that for the most part I can't see the audience we're surrounded by.

"Richard Grayson," I start, keeping my voice steady through pure force of will, "Dick." I pause for half a second. "Nightwing."

Dick's mouth curls into something like a smirk. "Yeah, Jay. Those are my names."

I duck my head down towards the floor, for just long enough to work up the courage to actually do this. "I've been wondering something, so I have a question I have to ask you." I squeeze his fingers, and then let go of his right hand and take his left between both of mine. He goes completely still as I sink to my right knee, staring down at me and looking like he's barely even breathing. His mouth is just slightly open; shock, I think. I reach back with my right hand, never looking away from him as I fish the small black box out from my jacket. Somehow, he manages to freeze up a little more.

Now I clear my throat, popping the box open with my thumb and holding it up between us. "Dick, will you marry me?"

The two seconds where he doesn't answer are the longest of my life, and then he stutters back into movement with a gasp, and then a laugh. I almost freak out, but the laugh is high and joyous, not low and mocking like I was afraid it was going to be. His smile is wide, and his fingers clench down over mine as he reaches forward with his right hand, tracing it across my cheek and jaw.

"Yes," he says, and my world lights up.

I grin, echoing his laugh and then getting to my feet. I can't help pulling him close, or kissing him to vent out some of the joy and the love expanding beneath my skin. My gloved fingers slide through his hair, my right still hampered by holding the box, and his slide beneath my jacket and wrap around my back, crushing me up against him. I can barely breathe for how damn good I feel, and it's like a perfect touch on top of everything else when a cheer — Roy's voice, I recognize it — cuts through the air. The first in the crowd, and I can feel Dick smile.

I force myself to pull back after a moment, but only as far as I can twist my body to flick the box back open, and his left hand can pull back and be offered up between us. I carefully reach down, tugging off his glove with his help, and then fishing the ring out from within the box. Easing it over his finger feels like a dream come true, and the way the black band and streak of dark blue sapphires looks against his skin makes me stare down at it in some bright mix of awe and pure, ecstatic joy.

"I like it," he murmurs, and I give a tiny shrug and a smirk as I look up to meet his eyes.

"Black and blue always looked better on you than white or gold." He rolls his eyes again, but it's tempered with a smile so bright it steals my breath for a moment. It's probably good that that's the moment that the rest of the lights click back on, because I don't know what I would have done otherwise.

Dick doesn't draw away, but he does turn to meet the approaching wave of people. All his friends; I made sure of it. But his right arm winds up around my waist, and he doesn't seem to mind when I loop my left arm around his shoulders. Honestly, I really don't pay attention to the crowd of people. I barely know most of them, and my attention is focused on other things. Like the shift of his shoulders as he talks; always completely unable to be still. Most especially, I'm focused on the glint of light off of that ring, as he gestures, and moves, and just lives.

My gaze wanders a little bit, and somehow my eyes end up on the dark figure at the opposite end of the room. Batman. Bruce. He's near the monitor, standing still and just watching the crowd. I watch him for a second in turn, and then his head tilts a bit. Despite the cowl, and the mask, I'm absolutely positive he's caught my gaze. I'm sure he's looking right back at me.

Then, Bruce's mouth quirks into the tiniest of smiles, and he gives me a slow nod. I stare, and he holds my gaze for a moment before turning back to the monitors.

It's… Holy fuck, that was approval.

Dick's arm squeezes my waist, and I pull my head down, startled to be caught so utterly distracted. Dick smiles, and then rocks up onto his toes to lean in beside my ear. "Wouldn't have mattered even if he didn't," he whispers, and then presses a gentle kiss to my jaw. "This was perfect, Jay."

I shift towards him, tilting my head in towards his. "Knew you'd want your friends here," I answer, keeping my voice just as quiet. Luckily, the crowd is at least aware enough to give us a second, and they've backed off to give us some space. "Cyborg recorded everything off of the Watchtower cameras, so you'll get a file of it to keep. And uh, Roy deserves at least half the credit; he helped me come up with all of this and pull it off."

"I'll thank him later." Dick smiles, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. "But definitely not in the same way I'm going to thank you once we're home, Jason. That's just for us." I give a low hum of approval at the thought, and I almost miss the flash of wickedness that twists his mouth into a smirk. He promptly hides it by leaning back in to speak into my ear, "You still need a ring, and I know we've got a couple at home. Not for fingers, but we can make do."

My breath catches at the promise, at the suggestion, and I have to fight to keep my voice quiet when I answer, "You're going to kill me, Dick."

"But you'll love every second of it." I can hear the restrained laugh in his voice, and I lean into his touch and give a soft chuckle, tightening my arm around his shoulders.

"Damn right."