Dick Grayson had never been a man who had believed in coincidences. One coincidence? Yeah, sure, whatever. But two? No way.

The first time Dick, as Nightwing, had saved Regan Knight, he hadn't recognized her. It wasn't until the next night when he, as himself, ran into her at the club, that he finally realized who she was. They'd gone to high school together. The kids who were there because they had rich parents were snobby, and the kids there on scholarships had befriended him only because of who his adoptive father was.

Only Barbara and Regan had ever treated him normally, Barbara because she knew of his night-time activities, and Regan because she was just a nice person.

In Sophomore year, they'd had a science project to do together- the teacher had randomly assigned pairs, and Dick had been stuck with Regan. Although, he had figured out pretty quickly that in all honesty, she was stuck with him.

Regan had gone to Gotham Academy on a scholarship, and rightfully so; she was smart as a whip, and if Dick hadn't been so in love with Barbara at the time, he probably would have tried to date Regan. They'd decided that when it came to meeting up after school, to take turns with who's house they met up at.

The first time Regan came to Wayne Manor, he expected the worst; most people, when coming to the Manor, could only talk about how big it was, and the fact that he had a butler and maids was usually a topic of conversation. But Regan had walked in, been very polite to Alfred, and then had gotten straight to business with their project.

Alfred had come by at one point with cookies, and Regan had very happily taken one; she'd then declared it the best cookie she'd ever tasted. Alfred had been thoroughly charmed by the girl, who was very happy to say please and thank you to literally everything.

When Dick had gone to her house, he'd found a modest home of only two stories, and her father had glared at him for a solid ten minutes.

He'd been very scared by her father, so he'd been on his best behavior the entire two weeks of the project. After, they'd remained friendly, saying hi in the halls, but they couldn't really say they were friends.

When Dick went to the museum on request of his father, he figured he might run into Regan; she'd said she worked there, after all. But then that night he'd saved her from a guy trying to rape her and his brain screamed warning signals at him. Why was he suddenly running into her all the time? There was also the fact that he, as Nightwing, had called her Miss Knight. Nightwing had no reason to know Regan's name.

He hoped he didn't run into her any time soon; how would he explain that?

Bruce told him it was all simply a coincidence. Tim and Jason both had joked that obviously this girl was his soulmate. Damian had decided that his eldest brother was just a moron.

Dick had figured Bruce was right. Until the next Sunday, when he ran into her at the grocery store, wearing black leggings, a light purple knit sweater, and her blonde hair piled up on top of her head. The sweater was clearly a size too big, based on how it was sliding off one of her shoulders. She was in the alcohol aisle, looking at a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. She studied it for a few moments, and then, deciding that it must have been the wine she was looking for, put it into her cart. She had deli meats, bread, salad dressing, croutons, lettuce, cheese, and a few other things in her cart, now plus a bottle of wine. She then went down and grabbed a bottle of Pinot Grigio. This one she didn't inspect, first, obviously an old favorite.

Once she put it into her cart, Regan looked up, right at him. It was then that he noticed the bruise on her cheek, and the ace bandaging around her wrist.

"Hi, Dick," Regan greeted, easily spotting the man with a full cart nearby, and a 24-pack of Budweiser just taken from the coolers he was standing next to. The door was still open and everything.

"Hey, Regan," Dick said, surprise obvious in his voice. "What're you doing here?"

"Buying groceries for the week," Regan said. "And you? I remember you having a butler."

Dick chuckled, "Yeah, turns out having a butler only really works when you still live in the house where the butler works," he said. "I moved out, no more Alfred."

"Awe," Regan said in mock sympathy. "Now you get to live like the rest of us." Her tone was clearly teasing, and Dick took it as such.

"Yeah, turns out it's a little harder than I expected," Dick said.

"You'll get used to it," Regan said with a smile.

Dick laughed. "Hopefully. Luckily I visit every so often, so I still get to see him at least," he said. "May I ask, what happened?" he gestured towards her wrist,

"Uh," Regan sighed, lifting her hand to glance at the ace bandage wrapped around it. "I sprained it."

"How?"

"Got jumped; again. Nightwing had to save me; again."

"Maybe you should stop going out at night," Dick suggested.

Regan chuckled. "Yeah, that's what Nightwing told me, too. Even asked if I had a boyfriend to walk me home."

"Well, maybe muggers wouldn't target a woman who had a guy with her," Dick offered.

"Probably," Regan agreed. "But I had to finish a report, so I didn't leave work Thursday until nearly 10."

"Thursday, that's when I went to the museum," Dick said, clearly connecting the dots in his head. "Did you have to stay late because I took up a bunch of your time?" He looked stricken at the thought, like he would never forgive himself if he found out he'd wasted so much of her time, that she had to stay late and then got jumped because of it.

Regan shook her head. "Nah, it was gonna take until after dark to finish that report either way," she said. "Besides, normally I'm out of there by 4 so I can get to class, but last week was Fall Break; hopefully, it'll never happen again." It was only the fifth day of October, so that made sense.

"I hope so," Dick said. He seemed relieved to hear that he wasn't the cause of her getting mugged, but there was still worry shining in his bright blue eyes. "Here, how about I get your number; that way, if you're having to walk home alone from somewhere at night, you can call me, and I'll come take you home. Got a car and everything." He held his phone out, a Wayne Enterprises model.

"You sure?" Regan asked, taking the phone, "Sometimes I stay pretty late at the campus library."

Dick smiled, with teeth and everything. "I'm sure, Rae," he said. She blinked at the usage of the nickname; it was the first time she'd heard him use it.

"Okay," Regan finally relented and typed in her number, saved it, and then texted herself so she'd have his. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Dick said. "I gotta go before my ice cream melts, but I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," Regan agreed. "See you around. And Dick?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

He grinned. "My pleasure." And then he was gone, disappeared into a different aisle.

…

News of a Wayne Enterprises funded gala hit the museum Tuesday morning, set to happen three weeks later. So, Regan spent the next three weeks of her life getting ready for the gala, set to happen on a Friday evening, at the museum. It was the day before Halloween, so they debated putting up Halloween decorations, and, in the end, decided not to.

She had been thinking she would re-do the Egyptian exhibit and move things around; she had to put that on hold until after the gala, but she didn't mind. Preparations for the gala made sure that everyone was busy, cleaning, doing very minor changes to exhibits, and, for the higher-ups, writing speeches. The heads of the biggest exhibits- Gotham history, United States history, Egyptology, and Greek history- all had to do speeches, as well as the CEO of the museum. Bruce Wayne, the owner of the museum, would also be doing a speech. Regan was just glad she wasn't the head of the department, yet.

"I don't know, Regan, does it sound a little… bland?" Natalie asked the afternoon before the gala, having read her speech to her.

"It sounded fine, Natalie," Regan said as she hitched her bag up her shoulder. "I gotta get to class, but I'll see you after, alright?"

"You're probably right," Natalie said, staring down at her speech, hand-written on a piece of notebook paper in loopy cursive. "Has that boy, Richard, texted you at all?"

Regan chuckled. "Yeah, he asked the other day how preparations for the gala was going," she said.

"How did you reply?"

Regan rolled her eyes playfully. "I told him we were all stressed and he owed me a drink; I don't think he took me seriously."

"Oh, he's a good boy," Natalie said. "All the Wayne boys are; I remember when Bruce was a just a youthful young man himself, full of pride, and a big ladies man. But he turned out okay; those kids of his were good for him."

"Are… are you trying to set me up with Richard Grayson?" Regan asked with a laugh.

"You need a man, Regan!" Natalie exclaimed. "I'm tired of you coming in covered in bruises because you keep getting mugged and jumped!"

"First of all, it's only happened twice," Regan said. "And second of all, as long as I never stay late- here or at campus- again, then I won't get jumped anymore. Now I have a test to ace, and then I'll be right back here for the gala."

"All right, Rae," Natalie said. "Good luck. And don't worry too much about hurrying back, the gala doesn't even start until 7."

"Yeah, but my test is at 5," Regan reminded her. "I have my dress and makeup and stuff stashed in my office so I can get dressed here."

Natalie smiled at her. "Good luck, honey."

Regan smiled back, saluted the older woman, and left the museum. Sadly, Gotham University was a thirty minute walk from the museum, so she always gave herself 45 minutes to get there, an entire hour if it was raining. She'd be passing her apartment on her way, as it was a twenty minute walk from campus, but only ten minutes from the museum. From campus to the museum would only be a ten minute drive, but she didn't have a car, usually calling a cab for groceries.

Taking out her phone to check her time, she smiled when she saw a text from Dick.

You're already in your room getting ready for that gala, aren't you?

Almost as soon as he'd gotten Regan's number, he'd been texting her. They'd gotten to know each other pretty well over these texts, and they'd even met up at a bar one night for drinks to celebrate a test she'd passed.

The test she had today was worth a lot of points, and try as she might to get him to let her take the test at a later date, and even with a note from the museum stating she was required to be at the gala, her teacher had not allowed her to postpone taking the test. So, Regan had been given special permission to leave the museum earlier than she was supposed to in order to take her test. But this meant that she wouldn't have enough time to go home and get ready, so she had everything she needed in her office. She'd be getting ready there, instead.

My teacher wouldn't let me postpone today's test, so I'm on my way to campus.

Sending her reply, she crossed a street and looked at her phone again as it vibrated, Dick's response already arrived.

That sucks :(

I can pick you up from campus after your test, get you to your apartment sooner so you can have some time to get ready.

Thank you, but I actually have all my stuff at the museum. I'll be getting ready in my office, tonight.

Then I can drive you back to the museum.

Regan smiled at the offer.

I'd appreciate that. It starts at five, hopefully I'll be done by 5:30.

I'll be there.

:)

Regan made it to campus with about ten minutes to spare. She slid into her seat next to Sasha a few minutes later. Regan had told Sasha about her weird encounter with Nightwing that night, three weeks ago, how the hero had known her name. Sasha had shrugged, and mentioned that he worked with Batman, the World's Greatest Detective. It was possible Batman had looked her up and passed along the information to Nightwing. Regan had decided to accept it, but if she ever ran into him again, she'd be sure to ask.

"Hey, I thought you had that fancy gala tonight," Sasha whispered in confusion.

"I do, but he won't let me postpone the test, so my boss agreed to let me leave early to come take it," Regan replied. "I've got my dress and everything back at my office."

"Are you gonna get there in time?"

"Hopefully," Regan said, "Dick offered to drive me back to the museum so I'd have a little more time."

"You and Dick sure have been texting a lot lately," Sasha noted. "After that tabloid picture came out, I figured he'd have run for the hills. Was pleasantly surprised when he didn't."

Regan laughed and rolled her eyes. Apparently someone had seen him at the grocery store talking with her and took a picture of him giving his phone to her. Her face couldn't be seen, but his clearly was, and it had an amazing headline.

Eldest Wayne Adoptee and Heir Spotted Flirting at Local Grocery Store, Offers up Phone Number

"He didn't flirt that entire interaction, and he only gave me his number so I could call him if I'm ever walking home at night," Regan said. Her wrist had finally become free of the ace bandaging a few days ago, and the bruise on her face was completely faded away.

"I know he did, but the tabloids clearly don't care," Sasha said. "You know he's been flirting with you this entire time?"

Regan sighed. "I've… become aware of it," she finally said. "I'm starting to think it's his default setting. He's a really nice guy, and I really like him, but Dick isn't the kind of guy to settle with a girl like me."

Sasha snorted. "Girl, you clearly didn't see him two weeks ago. The boy is crazy about you!"

"He's only known me for a month," Regan reminded her. "Yeah, I've got a crush on him, but you've met him, he's ridiculously easy to get a crush on."

"I have met him, and I had a crush on him, too," Sasha relented. "But I got over it because he clearly one, isn't my type, and two, only has eyes for you. You, however, have been texting with him almost constantly for a month, now."

Regan merely grimaced, and then their test began before she could respond.

The test was difficult, but Regan managed to finish by 5:23. After checking her answers to make sure she'd answered everything correctly, she finally stood up, the fifth student to finish, and handed her test over to the teacher. He took it, placed it face-down on the table in front of him with the four other tests he'd already collected, and nodded to her. She nodded back, grabbed her backpack, and left the classroom.

Even though it was several minutes before 5:30, Dick was already there and waiting, scrolling through his phone and leaning against a silver mustang as he waited for her. Regan's conversation with Sasha before class flowed through her mind, but she forced it to the back of her mind, and plastered a smile to her face instead.

"Hey, how'd the test go?" he asked as Regan approached. She was wearing jeans and a Gotham University hoodie, while he had on a t-shirt under a North Face jacket and jeans.

"With any luck, I passed," she replied. "Thanks for offering to take me back to the museum." She got in, and was immediately hit with that luxury car smell.

"Not a problem," Dick said as he slid into the driver's seat. "I don't need to get ready for it until closer to, so I was looking for something to do."

"You're coming?" Regan asked, a surprised tilt to her words.

"Yeah, all of us are," Dick said. "Bruce likes to bring us to the galas for things like museums, schools, stuff like that. People are more willing to donate more money if they see the richest guy in the city's kids at the events, makes it seem like he's doing it for us, when in reality he just really wants to make the city better."

"That's nice of him," Regan said, remembering the one time she'd met the man. It had been during their science project sophomore year, and he'd been friendly with her, asking how her day was, and even asking after her sickly grandmother at one point after overhearing her mention it to Dick.

"Yeah, he's got this persona of an aloof guy for the press, but he's honestly a pretty great guy," Dick said, just as they pulled up to the museum.

"I'm sure he is," Regan agreed, gathering her backpack. "Thanks for the ride, Dick, I owe you one."

Dick simply smiled at her, "Save me a dance, and we'll be even."

"I don't know how to dance," she said.

His grin grew. "I'll teach you."

She smiled at him, a bright, toothy smile, and blushed, and then left the car. Dick waited for her to get inside the building before finally driving off, and then he headed back to the manor to get ready.

Rushing to her office while also trying to avoid being seen by the staff who were putting out the finishing touches, Regan was soon closing her door and closing all her blinds so she could get her dress on. The first thing she did, though, was trade her glasses for those oh-so uncomfortable contacts. Then she turned to the dress, laid out across her desk.

The dress, a fifty dollar Macy's find, was a one-shouldered navy blue that fell to her feet. It exposed the tattoo on her right shoulder blade, but it also had pockets, so that made up for it. She'd gotten her nails done in a matching shade, and her one inch heels also matched. With her dress on, Regan sat at her desk and put a small mirror on top, one with a light built in. She used it to put her hair up, bringing most of it to a low bun at the base of her neck. She left a good amount of hair in front, so she could do two twin braids, bringing both around her head to the opposite side to wrap around the bun. She pinned both into place, and then used her curling iron to lightly curl the strands framing her face.

Finally, she pulled her makeup bag over to her, but before she could begin, there was a knock at her door.

"Come in!" she called, glancing up with an eyeshadow pallet in one hand and a makeup brush in the other.

"Regan, you almost ready?" Natalie opened the door and popped her head in. In the two hours since Regan had first left for her test, Natalie had gotten ready, herself. She wore a red gown with long sleeves, her graying hair pulled back in an elegant up-do. She didn't have too much makeup on, just some on her eyes and lips. She looked very nice.

"Hey, Nat, almost. Just gotta do my makeup," Regan replied, opening her eyeshadow pallet.

"Oh, honey, you look fantastic already!" Natalie gushed. "How did your test go?"

"Pretty well," Regan said. "I think I got at least a B."

"Great!" Natalie exclaimed. "I know that class has been difficult for you; I still can't believe that teacher wouldn't even accept a note that you needed to miss class for a work event."

"That teacher heard me tell Sasha about how a mugger almost stole my bag with my midterm paper in it, and still only gave me an 81 on the paper," Regan said with an annoyed sigh. Moving closer to her mirror, she started swiping on eyeliner. "You read it, you know that paper deserved an A."

"Not all teachers are good at it, I'm afraid," Natalie said. "When you finish, just come on out. Mr. Wayne wanted to speak everyone before the gala began, but you don't have to give tours or anything tonight. Just enjoy yourself, alright?"

Regan smiled, looking back up at her boss. "Alright; thanks, Natalie." Natalie nodded, and then left Regan to finish up.

With her boss out of her office, Regan returned to her mirror to finish her makeup. Finishing her eyeshadow- a gold shadow that went with her dress nicely- she then swiped a nice line of black eyeliner on top of both her lids. She finished her eyes with a swipe of mascara, and then covered her lips with a dark red lipstick. Finished with her look, Regan sprayed her face with makeup setter, her hair with hairspray, and finally reached down to strap on her heels.

Finally, she was ready.

Placing her phone, eyedrops, and lipstick into her pockets, Regan spritzed on her favorite, rose-scented perfume, and finally left her office.

She headed to the main entrance to the museum quickly, where the gala was to be held. The guests were welcome to walk through the exhibits, although the heads, like Natalie, were expected to answer questions when asked. Regan was just there to provide a united front; everyone who worked for the museum, including the receptionist, was required to be there.

A few more stragglers came in after Regan did, and then Bruce Wayne himself showed up.

Bruce Wayne was a big guy. Literally, he was 6 foot 2, and all muscle, with broad shoulders and biceps bigger than her head. He had black hair and blue eyes, and a handsome face. He'd somehow managed to find three adoptive sons with black hair and blue eyes to match; his biological son, ironically, had green eyes.

All four of his children stood near the bar, talking amongst themselves. Regan had only glanced over at them for a second, although her eyes landed on Dick for a few seconds longer. He was gesturing to his brothers with both hands. The youngest appeared to be actively listening, as did the second youngest, but the second oldest looked bored.

The second oldest, Regan was pretty sure, was Jason Todd. He'd been announced as dead when he was only fifteen, having gone missing on a trip to Europe. A few years later, it was announced that his death had been faked by a group wanting to keep him hostage for ransom. Jason had managed to escape, found a phone, and was able to call Bruce to let him know that he was, in fact, alive. He'd been kept hostage for four years before he got away, and had spent the last six months back in Gotham, getting reused to public life, and getting to know his two younger brothers. Tim Drake, who Bruce had adopted about two years after Jason had gone missing, and after Tim's parents, who had been friends with Bruce, had died in a plane crash, and Damian, who actually was Bruce's biological son. His mother had kept the boy a secret from his father, until his 11th birthday, when he showed up on Bruce's doorstep.

Or at least, these were the stories released to the public. There were a lot of rumors, but there was also a rumor that Bruce Wayne was Batman, so what did the citizens of Gotham know?

Mr. Wayne gave a short speech to the museum staff, about being proud of them for setting this up on what he called short notice. Regan personally thought three weeks was a lot of notice, but hey, she wasn't a billionaire; what did she know?

The first guests arrived at 7 PM sharp, dressed in fancy dressed and suits, and wearing jewels that cost more than Regan's rent for an entire year. More and more arrived, and press started walking around as well, press badges clipped to their clothes, some with cameras hanging from their necks.

Around eight, Regan had finally succumbed to the open bar, paid for in full by Bruce Wayne, and was now nursing a glass of their finest sauvignon blanc; most of the guests had mixed drinks, champaign, or red wine, but Regan was never a fan of reds, or of carbonation. The feeling of bubbles in her mouth like that, wasn't one she enjoyed, so champaign was out. And she tended to save mixed drinks for bars. So a nice white it was.

"I never took you for someone to get tattoos," a voice behind her said.

"Well, when you find the right one," Regan said, turning around. As she had expected, Dick Grayson stood there, in a black suit and with a glass of red in his hand. His tie, though, was a deep navy blue, matching her dress. She could see his brothers, still by the bar, staring at them.

"It's a Harry Potter quote," Dick teased, smiling that oh so handsome smile at her.

"Do you not like it?" Regan raised an eyebrow.

Dick let out a chuckle. "Love it," he said. His eyes traveled down her body, then, taking in the dress. "You look beautiful, by the way."

Regan blushed. "Thanks," she said. "You look pretty awesome, too. Did you mean to match with me?" she gestured to his tie.

"I did not, but hey, it's a happy coincidence." Dick shrugged and took a sip of his wine. "I think the first speech is about to begin, and then I believe you owe me a dance."

"I do, don't I," Regan said, with a shy smile that she hid behind her glass. He smiled at her, then, a genuine smile that made his blue eyes twinkle.

As Dick had predicted, the speeches started up. The CEO of the museum went first, followed by the heads of the departments, who only spoke for two or so minutes each. After Natalie spoke, to much applause, Bruce Wayne finally stepped up to the podium.

"Thank you, all, for coming to the Gotham History Museum Gala, tonight," he started. "This museum was started by my mother, back when I was just a boy, and I always enjoyed coming here with her before she passed. Now, I like to bring my own sons here. The staff here has always been welcoming to us, and professional. I even hear one is in the processes of getting her Master's degree." Dick lightly elbowed Regan's arm, and she smiled, blushing, as a few of her coworkers raised their glasses towards her.

"It is my great honor to be donating a million dollars to this museum, to help it continue educating the people of Gotham. And I hope you'll all join me in donating to this wonderful establishment. Now, I invite everyone to look through the exhibits, eat, drink, and dance."

With that, Bruce nodded his head, showing he was done. The audience all clapped, and then began to dissipate as people headed for the exhibits, dance floor, or bar. Reporters rushed to swarm Bruce, and Dick turned to smile at Regan.

He held out his arm.

"May I have this dance?"

Regan smiled. "You may," she said. Both put down their empty wine glasses, having drained them during the speeches.

There were several other couples dancing, already, so Dick was quick to place his hands on her hips. Regan's arms circled around his neck, although she wasn't nearly as sure in her movements as he was.

"I don't really know how to do this," Regan said, looking down at their feet. "Sorry if I step on your toes."

"You won't step on my toes," Dick said, "Hey, look at me, not at your feet. You'll only step on me if you're over-thinking it."

"Where'd you learn how to dance?" Regan asked, finally looked up at his face instead of down at their feet.

"I grew up as Bruce Wayne's kid," he reminded her. "I took all the gentlemanly classes."

"Oh, so you know how to dance the fancy dances, drink the fancy drinks, and I assume you know which fork is for what?" Regan asked, doing her best to keep her eyes on his, blue into blue.

"Yes, yes, and yes," Dick said, "Although I learned the fork thing before I ever met Bruce."

"Titanic?" Regan guessed.

"Start on the outside and work your way in," Dick confirmed.

Regan chuckled, then, and Dick's smile grew.

"Anyone ever tell you, you have an amazing laugh?"

A blush colored Regan's cheeks, then, "Uh, no. I don't believe they have," she said. "Is flirting your default setting, or am I just special?"

This time it was Dick who laughed, head thrown back and everything. "A little bit of both," he admitted. "I'll flirt with just about everyone, but I only mean it when I actually like the girl."

"Oh, well in that case," Regan laughed. "So you actually like me?"

Dick grinned, one side of his lips going up in a half-smile. "I'm thinking yeah," he admitted, never one to back down from confessing his feelings.

Regan turned shy, then, her own lips turning up ever so slightly. "I'm thinking the same."

Dick's half-smile turned into a full one, and his hands on her hips tightened ever so slightly. They'd been swaying to the music the entire time, nothing fancy, but now they were frozen in the middle of the dance floor. He started to lean down, his breath fanning over her face. She started to lean up- she was 5 foot 3, he 6 foot 1- but just before their lips could touch, one of the walls blew up.