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Masks and Hoods
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They have a dangerous game going on.
Both of them know it. But neither will be the first to say it.
For all his flippant attitude and nonchalant demeanor, he is actually somewhat alarmed at the present state in which he finds himself.
It's hard to be business as usual when you're sharing a fruit cup with the enemy.
So when he blocks her kicks, when she dodges his jabs, they both know.
Neither one will be the first to break. She won't give in, nor will he. He won't go further. Nor will she.
He won't hurt her. He's barely even touching her as they fight. Yet how can he pull his punches when this girl and her friends can get him behind bars?
What insane level of trust does he have for this girl that he's only seen twice out of uniform?
These masks and hoods, this is what he knows. This is what they've done.
For the past year that he has taken this new identity, one that he didn't even name for himself, this is what he has known.
No one even knows who he is.
Not Dick. Not Bruce.
They're playing a dangerous game.
But she calls his bets.
He's taking a risk.
But it sure is a beautiful one.