Richard John Grayson feels like he is the King of the World. Nay, the Universe. He could take on all of the Rogues singlehandedly the way he feels right now. Bring on The Joker, Poison Ivy, The Riddler, and whatever bad guy is feeling lucky. Let them bring their worst. What a time to be alive.
Alive.
He is alive.
Officially announced to the world, thanks to Vicki Vale, alive, never dead, and madly in love with a girl.
A girl he's always loved. A girl he wants to marry, set roots with, start a family with, grow old with…
A wistful smile spreads across his face as he thinks of the fiery redhead, who no doubt watched his interview with his family at the Manor and is probably being interrogated by the World's Greatest Detective now.
He thanks the crew before he leaves the stage and sends a quick text to Barbara that he is taking her out tonight. Tucking his phone back into his suit pocket, he whistles while he fixes his tie as he strolls out of the television studio.
The sun is shining bright, the air is warm, and he is home in Gotham City. He is so lost in his reverie, that when the Princess of Tamaran walks up and kisses him on the lips, he doesn't notice the clicks of a photographer spying on them.