A/N: This is my first shot at writing a romance. It's not really my forte, but I absolutely adore this couple. I thought I might as well give it a try. And I certainly hope it turns out decently.

I've been working on this story on and off for a few months.

I'm dedicating this story to my two best friends in the world: Meritt and Purplehood. They've helped me through every annoying bout of writer's block and they've encouraged me in each of my crazy writing endeavors and I owe the two of them a lot.

"You fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time."

"You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear." -Oscar Wilde

"So if you like the girl, go for the girl," Wally West said, finishing off the last bits of his hamburger. His fourth. "Ask her out."

Across the table from him, Dick Grayson hadn't made it past his third bite. "Spoken by a true ladies' man." Dick couldn't help but grin as he helped himself to another French fry.

Wally shrugged. "Well, it works," he said, eying Dick's fries with more than a little desire.

Wordlessly, Dick slid them over. He wasn't going to eat them all anyway.

Wally's eyes brightened. "You are a gift," he told him sincerely.

"Seeing as you and Linda…" Dick began, ignoring Wally's comment. For the time being anyways. He might see fit to remind him of it sometime later.

"...are six months married," Wally finished for him, face split in a grin about two sizes too big.

"...are six months married," Dick finished his own sentence. He grinned as well, taking a French fry (correction: he wasn't going to eat all of them.), "I'd say maybe it does work."

"Hey!" Wally protested, clutching them closer. "You handed them off! These are mine now!"

"Are you forgetting whose money bought these fries?" Dick asked, taking a bite. He chewed thoughtfully. "You know, I could probably ask Linda for a list on what not to do. I'm sure she has some good ones."

"Oh, wow. Wow, that hurt, Dick." Wally clutched at his chest. "That was cold."

Dick lightly punched him in the arm. "You can't expect me to believe that Linda went out with you after just one try. You're not that good."

"Well… actually, it was three," Wally confessed. "But, you know, third time's the charm and all that."

He popped the second to last French fry into his mouth, and chewed with a very deliberate slowness. He was playing for the dramatic.

Dick rolled his eyes, settling back in the seat. "Wally…" He grabbed his drink, taking a sip.

"Right." Wally's eyes lit up with a newly discovered purpose. He pointed the last French fry at Dick. "Back to the problem at hand. Your dating life. Or lack thereof."

Dick choked on his drink, covering it up with a cough. "Wally!"

"Just telling it like it is. Who'd have thought? Bruce Wayne's son? Single? At nineteen? I'm sure there were girls lined up when you were fifteen."

Dick shook his head, amusement and irritation at once warring between him.

"Somehow this isn't what I had in mind…"
"But it's what you got."

"...and I really don't think this is helping."

Wally leaned forward on his elbows. "So… Bruce Wayne has one of those charity balls coming up, doesn't he?"

Dick raised his eyebrow. "...yes."

"So ask her."

"To be there? She already will be."

"So make it a date."

"A charity ball's not a date!" Dick protested. "It's… it's an event!"

"So ask her out for coffee," Wally said, unblinking and without missing a beat, "after you take her to the ball."

Dick dragged out a groan. "I should really talk to Linda, shouldn't I?"

Wally chuckled. "Your obvious lack of confidence hurts," he joked, "but don't forget you were the one who came to me for help. And you're not going to get anything out of Linda, so don't try that either. She'll tell you I'm the best thing that ever walked… er, ran into her life."

Dick smiled, returning his attention to what was left of his hamburger and choosing to ignore the matter of questioning Linda for the time being. "So coffee, huh?"
"Coffee," Wally reaffirmed with a nod. "I'm telling you, never doubt coffee shop magic."

Dick laughed, really laughed, at that. "Coffee shop magic?"

"It's the truth." Wally grinned wider and tapped the table. "So… are you gonna do it?"
"The coffee or the ball?"

"Both." Wally shook his head, shooting his friend an exasperated glare. "For someone who has to be the heartthrob of at least half of Gotham's girls…"

"Comes with the territory when you're the son of a billionaire." Dick shrugged, flashing his winning smile. The one that (almost) managed to always hide what was going on inside.

Even so, he felt his cheeks warming slightly. It was true, but not something he was exactly proud of.

He'd dated a few girls in high school, but that had always ended when his date/prospective girlfriend turned out to be simply interested in Wayne money or... something else.

But he didn't think Barbara was like that. She was his best friend, next to Wally. She had been for years. And he didn't… he didn't want to mess that up.

"Dick," Wally reasons, seriously. "She's your friend. If anyone's going to be understanding, it's…"

"But that's just it! We're friends." He played with his straw, but didn't take a sip. "I don't know if it's anything more."
"So ask," Wally said bluntly. "You know, it took a long time to work up the nerve to ask Linda out on our first date, and even then, it took me three tries before she was even willing to consider." He leaned forward earnestly. "I wouldn't trade Linda for the world," he said. "You deserve someone who makes you that happy. And if Barbara's that girl…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

Dick clenched his eyes shut for the briefest of seconds. When he opened them again, he looked at Wally. "Okay," he conceded. "I'll ask her."

"Good." Wally broke out into another grin as he leaned back against his seat. "Because otherwise, I might have to insist that you owe me another couple orders of fries. You can't expect me to do all this work for nothing!" He lowered his voice with a wink. "And speedsters gotta eat!"

Dick sputtered, then broke out laughing. "Oh no, no, you did not just go there!"

He was, Dick decided, a coward.

Which was not an adjective usually used to describe someone who dressed in Spandex and jumped off buildings to fight crime. (Suicidal, or harboring a death wish. might come to mind for some, but certainly not coward.)

All the same, that was what he was.

He was meeting Barbara at the Gotham Public Library and he thought, not for the first time, that asking her over the phone would be much easier, but this was… this was going to be special.

He was sure of it.

Which meant he was going to ask her in person. Even if it killed him.

And that would be… death by humiliation.

Yeah, didn't exactly sound pleasant.

Barbara was already waiting for him. She was nestled in a soft chair, hidden away in a snug little reading alcove.

The only reason he knew to look for her there was because she was always there.

She didn't notice him right away, giving Dick a chance to collect his thoughts.

Her hair was loosely held back, a few red wisps escaping the hair tie and framing her face. Her legs were crossed and a thick volume, in which she appeared to be thoroughly absorbed, rested in her lap.

Before he had a chance to make himself known, Barbara glanced up, catching sight of him and breaking into a smile that was at once relieved and happy to see him.

His heart did a little thump in his chest.

"Dick!"

She closed the book, giving Dick a look at the cover.

Moby Dick.

"Some light reading, huh?" It was the oldest joke in the book (pun definitely intended), but her smile widened as she pushed herself up and out of the chair.

"Bette had it for English class," she explained. "I was lucky. We got Hamlet instead. Still, Bette wasn't about to let me off the hook that easily and challenged me to read the first three chapters."

"And did you?"

Barbara nodded. "I made it to chapter four." She flashed him a pained grin. "But it's boring. I do not recommend."

Dick shrugged. "But at least you get to look sophisticated, right?"
Barbara scoffed. "Who even saw me reading that book besides you?" Her expression turned sly. "But I might as well check it out, right. Gives me a chance to look sophisticated."

She tucked the book under her arm, grabbed the crook of Dick's elbow and began to stir him in the direction of their usual place: the study tables beyond the computer station.

Where, it just so happened, several college students were already seated.

Dick cleared his throat then, holding back and Barbara glanced at him, questioning.

"Actually, I was hoping maybe we could sit over here this time."

It was private here.

And that was the keyword: private.

Barbara glanced over, catching sight of the three and drawing her own conclusions.

"Because of them?" she asked. "They're not even in our usual spot and it's not like we're going to be discussing sensitive case material in the public library."

"No, it's not that…"

"Dick?" Barbara frowned at him. "Is something going on?"
"What?" Dick's brow wrinkled in a desperate bid to appear nonchalant. It didn't work. At least he didn't think so. Barbara didn't seem to think so either. "No… nothing's going on. I…"
"Okay," Barbara said seriously, crossing her arms and trying desperately to hide a smirk, "something's definitely going on with you. Spill. What's got you tied up in knots?"

Dick shook his head, slumping his shoulders in defeat. "Not here!" he hissed back. Already, this wasn't going according to plan.

"Fine," Barbara said. "Then over there." She indicated his table of choice. "Then you're telling me."

Making one last attempt, Dick tried, "What if it doesn't concern you?"

Barbara gave him a look that said "nice try." "Because if it didn't, you wouldn't be staring at me like that? And that's for starters."

Dick sucked in a breath, a crooked little grin in place. "Guilty as charged…"

"A confession. Finally. I like that. So tell me, what's on your mind, Grayson?"

Dick broke out into a wider smile. "So we're going for last names now?"

"Dick!"

"Okay, okay." This was what he was here for… Did he really have to delay?

It was the fear of this changing things still plaguing him, he decided, but… this was Babs. She wouldn't let it change things, right? Even if she didn't feel the same way?

He let out a breath. "You're going to the charity ball… right?"
"Ye-e-es," Barbara answered slowly, frowning at him. "You already knew that, though."

He did already know that. Which meant he was still delaying.

"Do you want..." he was nervous, rubbing his hands together. He shouldn't be nervous. He needed to get it out before Barbara thought he'd lost it. "I was just… thinking. We could go. Together." He offered a little smile at the end and tried not to cringe.

It had come out a little more awkward than he'd hoped, but at least it was said.

"Together?" His heart did a stuttering little hitch in his chest as she processed the words. "You mean like a date?" She sounded confused, maybe a little surprised, but she hadn't said no.

"Yeah." He grinned again, feeling almost giddy. "Yeah, like a date." He reminded himself that she hadn't said yes yet, but he resisted the urge to say anything more, letting her decide for herself.

Then she smiled and, in that one instant, Dick decided it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"I think I'd like that," she said softly. "Why don't we give it a shot?"

And his heart soared.

"So…" Dick shoved his eggs around his plate before finally taking a bite. "I talked to Barbara. Yesterday," he clarified, after swallowing.

Don't speak with your mouth full. That was the sacred, unbreakable mealtime rule at Wayne Manor and Alfred enforced it with an iron fist.

He was the only one at the table. Jason was still upstairs, packing for school, something he'd neglected to do last night.

Bruce was still in the cave. "Business," as usual, came before eating, though Dick was sure Alfred would be bringing him down a plate of breakfast.

Even if more than half the time Bruce forgot to eat it, that was a task Alfred was sure never to shirk.

Alfred's reaction was limited to a perfectly schooled arched eyebrow, because Dick always talked to Barbara. "Oh?" he asked, setting a tray of pancakes on the table… even though Dick was currently the only one present to eat them. "I trust all is well."

"Yeah," Dick said, nodding a little too vigorously. He was happy. Really happy. "Yeah, it's all good." He wondered if his happiness was shining through. "I asked her to come with me. To the charity ball. She said yes."

Calm down, Grayson. She agreed to go out with you, not marry you.

He forced himself to take another bite of eggs, and helped himself to several pancakes, liberally dribbling syrup over them.

"That's wonderful." Alfred smiled at the young man sitting before him fondly. "Though I can't help but think that it's about time."

"About time for what?" Jason's voice cut in. The younger boy made a beeline for the table, grabbing one of the plates and digging the spooning several scoops of eggs onto his plate.

Alfred cleared his throat. "Table manners, Master Jason."
"Oh." Jason stopped sheepishly. Alfred took his plate from him and finished serving the boy himself. "Sorry."

Jason had never quite gotten used to there being enough food after having been so long on the street.

"Quite alright, young sir. We all make mistakes sometimes." His eyes twinkled as he said so, setting the plate down before him.

Dick wordlessly scooted the pancake platter closer to him and Jason speared up three, stacking them on his plate next to the eggs.

Alfred had filled up the third plate, and was leaving now, announcing that he was bringing something down to Bruce before the man starved himself down amongst the bats.

Jason acknowledged him with a nod, much more interested in grabbing the syrup.

"So what's about time?" Jason asked again, pouring syrup over the warm stack.

Dick grinned, in the mood to be teasing. "That's something for you to find out."

Jason stared at him a moment longer, but, apparently not interested enough to continue, he shrugged and returned his attention to his food. "It'd better not be something weird," he muttered, before taking a mouthful of pancake. He didn't speak after that, though, because while he might not have been used to the sheer amount of food, he too learned very quickly that there was no speaking with one's mouth full.

A small (irrational) part of him was offended that Jason didn't take any more interest, but the larger portion of himself was content keeping it to himself for the time being (with the exception being Alfred and, a little obviously, Bruce, who would no doubt find out, whether Dick told him or not).

Besides Jason was at the age where he'd likely just say, "ew, love," and move on with his life.

"It's not something you'd find very interesting anyways," Dick added, more as an afterthought.

Jason shot him a sharp look. "Who says anything about you is interesting?"

Dick just grinned. "Good point."

It was a little after breakfast, and after Alfred had already left to deliver Jason to school, that Dick received Wally's call.

He answered on the second ring.

"Did you ask her?" Wally didn't give Dick a chance to answer before he was speaking.

Dick raised an eyebrow, but it wasn't like Wally could see it. "A little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?" he asked. He didn't give Wally a chance to respond to that. "She said yes."
He could have sworn he heard Wally cheer softly (and it conjured up a mental image of Wally pumping his fist in the air), but his friend was speaking again, "Good for you, dude." He could almost hear the smirk through the phone. "Don't forget to take her out for coffee later, okay? Remember coffee shop magic."

"One step at a time, Wally." Dick couldn't help the chuckle that came with it. "Will you and Linda be there?"

"Unfortunately not," Wally answered. "But I have sources who will be, so you better be telling the truth, got that?"

"Of course I'm telling the truth." The rest of what Wally said clicked. "Wait, source? You have a source? What source?"

"Nuh uh, that would be telling." He could almost picture Wally wagging his finger. The image was at once infuriating and amusing.

"Wally…" Dick began, but Wally didn't let him continue.

"Uh oh, wait, I think I hear Linda calling me."

"Wally…" Dick said again, annoyed. That was the oldest trick in the book! Did he really think... ? "Do you really think…"

"Good luck at the dance, dude, but, uh, Linda really is calling me," Wally said hastily. There was a click indicating the call had been disconnected.

Dick blinked, staring at the phone in his hand, speechless, before sliding it into his pocket.

Sometimes being friends with Wally West could be the most exasperating thing in the world.

"You look like a ray of sunshine this morning," Jim Gordon commented into his cup of coffee.

"Hmmm?" Barbara hummed as she dug through the cabinets for a bowl. Choosing one, she grabbed a box of cereal and poured.

She was still barefoot and in her pajamas, pink shorts and a white and blue T-Shirt with the words Gotham City University printed across the chest in block letters.

"So what's his name?"

Barbara had her father's full attention now. He'd put the paper down and was looking at her with the warm, almost-smile that made her heart do a little leap.

She grinned a little playfully. "What makes you think there's a boy involved?" she asked.

"Because I know that look," Jim said, taking another sip of coffee. "It's not like I haven't seen a lovestruck girl before."
"Well," Barbara leaned against the counter, "It's just that I happen to be your only daughter, and I'm pretty sure I've never been in love before, so it does make me question where you got your information."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Believe me, down at the station, I've seen plenty of young girls who claim they did what they did because of some love or another."

Barbara scoffed in mock offense. "And you're comparing me to one of them? I thought you were better than that."

"Of course not." He'd set his coffee mug down. "But they all got the same dreamy expression you had when you waltzed in here."
Barbara laughed. "'Waltz?' Dad, I don't waltz."

Jim didn't bat an eye. "You did just then." He started to pick up his paper. "So are you going to tell me who it is or…?"

"It's Dick," Barbara blurted. She had never kept secrets from her father for long. Well… unless you counted the whole Batgirl thing, but she was pretty sure he already knew about that and just hadn't brought it up.

If he was leaving her to stew, then she really didn't appreciate it, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it.

She would have brought it up on her own eventually, just to see what he knew, but she just… didn't know how to broach that subject without inadvertently revealing something he didn't know.

Her father lowered the paper. "Dick?" he asked for clarification.

Barbara nodded, wondering if something was wrong. He liked Dick. He always had. She didn't think it should bother him.

"He asked me if I would go to the dance with him." When her dad didn't say anything, she continued, "You know, the charity ball Bruce Wayne is hosting? You're attending?" She opened the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk, and closing the door again with her hip. She faced him again. "Is something wrong?"
Slowly, he shook his head and, with some relief, she noted that the small smile was still present. "No, it's just… I shouldn't be surprised with all the time you two spend together."

Both in and out of costume, Barbara added silently. And it was true. Maybe it shouldn't be surprising to see something come out of this, but… boys and girls were friends all the time and that didn't necessarily mean an attraction would come of it.

Realizing her dad hadn't said anything more, Barbara cleared her throat. "So," she asked, making an attempt to sound casual, even though her heart was hammering away in her chest, "you're okay with it?"

"Honey," he shook his head, "if he makes you happy that I couldn't be more okay with it."

Barbara smiled. A tension in her chest she hadn't been aware of faded. "Thanks, Dad," she said. "It's… it's only a first date…" she continued, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and feeling suddenly very self-conscious, "but I… I think it's going to work."