Over the next several months, Bruce and Hailey were not only a couple but full-fledged partners, keeping Gotham safe as Batman and Batgirl. Their work was a seamless blend of his methodical planning and her chaotic brilliance. Many of Batman’s cold cases were resolved.

On the rooftops, their movements were a study in duality. Batman was the shadow that stalked, his actions deliberate, his strikes aimed at disabling the joints, ligaments, and weapons of his targets. Batgirl was the flurry of motion, a vibrant black-and-yellow blur that drew attention. She moved with an acrobatic ease Bruce could only envy, using parkour to launch herself between buildings, and her voice—her strong, playful, former Harley Quinn voice—to distract and disorient.

One particular incident, taking down a drug operation at a shipping yard, a scenario Bruce would typically handle with silent, brutal efficiency, their new dynamic was on full display.

Batgirl didn’t sneak. She came in like a storm, dropping from the crane line with a terrifying, cackling yell that echoed across the containers. She used her momentum to spin, taking out three thugs with a whirlwind of kicks and a well-aimed flash grenade, turning their confusion into immediate chaos.

While she was drawing fire, Batman moved silently in the smoke, securing the perimeter, taking down the leaders, and isolating the escape routes. He was the anchor, and she was the kinetic force, utterly confident in his ability to cover her flank.

When they had five men cuffed to a stack of palettes, Batman was silent, letting his presence speak. Batgirl, however, knelt down. “Now, where’s the rest of the supply, sweetie?” she’d ask, using her old, saccharine persona, then snap to a cutting, forensic tone. “You know, the stuff with the gamma radiation markers? The kind that’s going to dissolve your teeth in your sleep? Talk.” She was a whirlwind of threat assessment and psychological manipulation, drawing out information with terrifying efficiency before the police arrived.

The entire city and all the media wondered where Batgirl had been these past few years, but they were overwhelmingly glad to have her back. Her unexpected return, coinciding with Batman’s increased presence after his recovery, was a beacon of hope, leading to a palpable drop in high-level crime.

***

Bruce sat at his mahogany desk, the city’s evening glow a distant watercolor through his office window. His gaze was fixed on a small, velvet box on the dark wood. Inside, resting on a bed of satin, was the ring. It wasn’t a gaudy, enormous diamond. Instead, it was an understated masterpiece of platinum, a single, brilliant-cut diamond at its center flanked by a pair of smaller stones, all set in an elegant, modern design that was beautiful, elegant, but understated. It was everything he was not, and yet everything he wanted to be for her.

He picked up his phone, his thumb hovering over her contact. He took a deep breath, and then sent the message.

Text: Tonight, meet me at Lucca at 7:00 PM. You should be receiving a package right about now.

***

Across town, at the shelter, Hailey’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and read the text, a small smile playing on her lips.

As if on cue, a delivery truck pulled up and a driver placed a large, glossy rectangular black box wrapped in a wide red ribbon on the front desk. A smaller, matching box was perched neatly on top.

She carried the boxes back to her small office. Her hands, still smelling faintly of hand sanitizer and the day’s work, carefully untied the ribbon. Inside the larger box, resting on tissue paper, was a stunning black evening gown. It was elegant, with a high neck and a flowing skirt, but a daring slit up the side gave it just a touch of sass, perfect for her playful side. In the smaller box were a pair of matching high heels. She tried them on, and everything fit perfectly.

They met at the restaurant, an intimate, candlelit space with a breathtaking view of the city. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, a perfect blend of shared jokes and deep, quiet understandings. The evening was a whirlwind of simple, profound joy.

***

After dinner, they walked through Gotham City’s Gardens, the moonlight filtering through the trees. They found a quiet, secluded bench, away from the city lights, and sat down.

Bruce took her hand in his. “Hailey,” he began, his voice low and serious. “My life has been… a series of responsibilities. A duty to my family’s legacy, a duty to this city. But you… you are not a responsibility. You are the one thing I’ve ever done for myself.” He dropped to one knee, reached into his suit jacket, and pulled out the small box. “I want you to be a part of my life. I want to build a family with you. I want a future with you.” He opened the box, the diamond catching the soft moonlight. “Hailey Anne Smith… will you marry me?”

Hailey’s heart felt like it would burst from her chest. “Yes! A thousand times yes!” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. She leaned forward and kissed him as he stood up, a kiss that tasted of hope and the promise of a future.

He slid the ring onto her finger, and it fit perfectly, a symbol of their connection. As he held her hand, a profound peace settled over him, something he hadn’t felt since he was a boy. He was right. It wasn’t the city, or his mission, or his duty that had saved him. It was her.

“You see,” he said, his voice filled with a profound gratitude. “Everyone always talks about Batman saving Gotham. But they don’t know the truth. It wasn’t me who rescued you… it was you that actually rescued me from a life of solitude and myself.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, a perfect fit she had come to know so well. “And you, Mister Wayne, rescued me right back. From a life of trying to pretend I was someone I wasn’t, someone I never want to be again.”

They continued their walk through the garden, the moonlight their only guide. They didn’t speak much, simply holding hands and enjoying the quiet comfort of being together. The city lights of Gotham were a beautiful, distant backdrop to the most important night of their lives.

Bruce, who had always viewed the city as a battlefield, tonight it was a place of peace, a place he was finally able to call home.

Their peaceful stroll was abruptly interrupted as six shadows detached themselves from the darkness of the trees. They were thugs, their faces obscured by ski masks, their hands armed with crude knives and clubs.

“Alright, hand over the wallet, the purse, the watches, the jewelry. All of it!” one of them growled, his voice a low threat.

Bruce and Hailey looked at each other, their faces illuminated by a streetlamp. A knowing smile passed between them, a silent understanding of what was about to happen. Then, Hailey turned to the thugs.

“Six against two,” she said, her voice bright and playful. “That’s just not fair.”

The thugs laughed as they surrounded them.

What happened next was a brutal, beautiful ballet of teamwork.

All the training and the honing of Hailey’s chaotic skill and Bruce’s years of honed experience were on full display. Hailey was a blur of motion, her movements a graceful chaos. She used her body as a weapon, a blur of kicks, flips, and strikes. Bruce moved with lethal precision, his body a silent, efficient force.

They were a single unit, their movements seamlessly choreographed, anticipating each other’s attacks. The six thugs, expecting an easy mark, were dispatched before they even knew what hit them, their weapons scattered on the ground.

Hailey knelt down, picking up a fallen thug’s knife. She held it up, a gentle, playful reprimand in her voice.

“Now, now,” she said, her tone dripping with mock disappointment. “You shouldn’t play with knives. You’ll put an eye out! And don’t ever attack two people in love, especially when they’re having a good night. It’s not very polite. And six against two? Definitely not fair at all.”

She placed the knife gently on one barely conscious man’s chest, patted it, and stood, taking Bruce’s hand once more.

They continued their walk, the city’s hum and their peaceful silence now a familiar comfort.

© Copyright 2025 J.R. Geiger. All rights reserved.