Chapter 12: The dinner

had just ended, and Batman, on night patrol, lit up his phone. The unread message at the top was from "J.N."

[Jack]

I got stuck on my lines during rehearsal today, even though I knew them by heart.

Maybe it's because you weren't watching.

(Or maybe I just missed you too much.)

Bruce stared at me for a few seconds, then, with a flick of his finger, replied:

[Bruce]

Isn't it better to practice alone and focus?

[Jack]

Wow, Mr. Bat's language today is as sharp as his claws!

But I still prefer someone paying attention to me. Do you know who I'm talking about?

Bruce didn't reply immediately.

After a moment, he typed:

[Bruce]

I'll try to make time, but I've been busy lately and may not be able to make it.

[Jack]

Gotham's nights are long, and Bat is busy.

Okay, I'll try not to bother you, Mr. Busy Man.

[Bruce]

I'll be there on the day of the performance.

[Jack]

All right, dear. I think you should go to bed now.

If you dream of me, please tell me which costume I'm wearing.

I hope it's not that bright pink feather cape; that one smells like dead rat.

Bruce couldn't help but twitch his lips slightly as he read the reply.

[Bruce]

Good night, sweet dreams.

---

Wayne Manor

At dusk, a Corolla pulled up at the entrance to the manor, paused briefly, and then departed.

With the sound of pulleys, the door opened, and a cheerful call echoed through the hallway: "I'm back!"

Dick Grayson entered, dragging his suitcase. He was wearing a dark blue coat and a cheerful smile on his face.

Alfred quickly emerged from the kitchen to greet him.

"Master Richard, welcome home," the butler nodded with a smile.

"Alfred!" Dick opened his arms and gave him a firm hug. "I think you look a few years younger than when I left."

"Master Richard, I think you're hallucinating from hunger," he replied wittily.

Bruce came down the stairs from the living room, a document in his hand.

"Welcome back."

"Bruce." Dick put down his bag, walked forward briskly, and opened his arms. "Come on, don't pretend you don't miss me."

Bruce didn't hesitate much and gently hugged him back.

Jason was sitting on the sofa polishing his combat boots. He glanced at him when he heard the noise. Dick walked over and extended his hand to him.

"Hey, Jason."

Jason hesitated for a moment and didn't say anything. Finally, he stood up and perfunctorily touched his shoulder to express his welcome.

"You didn't refuse?" Dick said with a smile, "Does this mean that we have successfully reconciled?"

"You are too greasy." Jason rolled his eyes.

After the three of them sat down, Alfred brought the dishes, and the atmosphere was unusually relaxed.

"So, is there anything going on in Gotham lately that I should know about?" Dick asked, pouring himself a glass of water. "By the way...why isn't Jack here?"

"He's rehearsing a new play at the theater," Bruce replied calmly. "Preparing for the performance, he's got a lot going on."

"Well, a professional actor's life is really busy."

"He's very dedicated."

"How have you been?" Dick rested his chin on his hand, looking at him. "You look a little...uh, tired."

Bruce didn't answer immediately, simply putting down his knife and fork. "I'm fine."

Jason was cutting into his steak, the knife and plate making a crisp sound.

Dick heard it and asked,

"What's wrong?"

"...I didn't hold it steady."

Alfred poured tea beside him, subtly observing the delicate atmosphere between the three of them.

As Dick ate, he talked about Blüdhaven:

"We've got a few new officers here recently, and they're much better than the old guard who were just slacking off. My boss even asked me to take them out on some field trips." "

Sounds like you have a chance of getting promoted?" Jason asked.

"Maybe," Dick nodded. "But I don't care about the rank. Otherwise, I'd be too busy to do Nightwing's work."

At this point, he remembered the news he'd read recently: "I remember seeing in the newspaper that the Gotham Police Department's chief has been replaced. Barbara Gordon, right?"

"Yes," Bruce nodded.

"James Gordon's daughter," Dick pointed out. "I've heard of her. She was already famous and has solved many important cases."

"She's the commander-in-chief now. She has a strong style and strong execution."

"She sounds like a difficult person to deal with," Dick said thoughtfully. "Will your cooperation be smooth in the future?"

Bruce didn't answer directly. "She wants to establish a new system of cooperation."

"Sounds like a good start," Dick commented. He took a sip of water and said, "Speaking of which, we've been assigned a lot of new missions lately. If I go to the gang to gather information, do you think I should get a tattoo or something?"

"Forget it," Jason said, taking a bite of his steak. "You look so amateurish playing the gangster."

"Hey, you're just stereotyping!"

Dick laughed, and the conversation gradually became lighter.

When finishing up the meal, Dick mentioned his vigilante friends: "Everything is going well at Titan, and there are plans to invite the League to act together, but Superman seems to have expressed his disapproval."

Bruce paused. He has been busy with his own affairs recently and has not paid much attention to the League.

"I'll find a chance to talk to Superman about this."

"Oh, that would be great," Dick blinked, "Everyone at Titan is looking forward to officially cooperating with the League."

After the meal, in the living room.

Jason leaned on the sofa and played with his phone boredly, looking like he was forced to work.

Bruce sat aside and read the documents quietly, occasionally looking up and responding to a few words.

"Okay," Dick yawned and rubbed his shoulders, "I have to go take a shower, I have to go back to Blüdhaven tomorrow."

"So busy." Jason muttered, stood up and prepared to go upstairs.

Dick sighed at the fire burning in the fireplace in the living room, "I will miss the manor."

Bruce glanced at him: "You can come back anytime."

"I know." Dick smiled.