OK. I've had this one person lately begging me for an explanation for a certain topic. This is that answer. I'll make it short and simple.

They know who they are.

How Many Times?

Barbara couldn't believe what she was seeing. Suddenly, she wasn't Batgirl anymore. It was like the costume had just faded along with her body and left her thoughts and emotions free for the entire world to see. It was her with him.

She just couldn't believe it.

Nightwing and Starfire were standing side by side near the entrance of the Batcave, holding hands. It wasn't just that though, a ring was glinting on the alien's finger.

And still, it wasn't just that. Sitting on Nightwing's other arm was a tiny, little, young girl. She had his smile and hair and her-mother's eyes.

Barbara's mouth fell into a scowl and she glared before crossing her gold and black clothed arms over the gold bat on her chest. They were having words later.

Yes, later. Because the rest of the Bat-Clan was flocking to the little…family.

That alien. She was just like Huntress, thinking she could wheedle her way between the two of them. There was no way that was their…daughter, it was obviously a trick.

It's three hours before Batgirl can meet Nightwing on top of the Gotham City Library, during the clan's midnight patrol. And man is she pissed!

"What the hell are you thinking?" she yells as she stomps up the blue and black themed hero.

The man turned around and his eyes dulled in some kind of sadness before he turned back to the lights of the city, "What is it Batgirl, are the docks clear?"

"We had a date on Saturday and you go and propose to that alien?"

Nightwing spun around and glared, "That "date" has been the second Saturday of every month for the past three years Barbara. You never showed up for any one of them."

"What are you talking about? We never-"

Barbara's voice was cut off when Nightwing took out a recording device from his glove and pressed a button. Barbara recognized her voice coming from it and then Dick's following it.

"Yeah, I'll see you at the pizzeria at 7:00pm."

"See you then Babs."

Static, moving to the next conversation.

"Where are you Babs?"

"Listen I don't have time to talk, I'm busy."


"Yeah we can go to the movies. Pick me up at 8:00 handsome."

"OK. I'll be there."


"I was there for two hours. Where were you Barbara?"

"Can't talk, gotta go."

Nightwing stopped the device and put it away, "Barbara I have 3,456 recordings just like it."


Barbara's hand went to the belt around her waist, pulling a ring out that was hanging on a chain, "You said-"

Faster than she could catch it, Nightwing had snatched it from her hand.

"Hey! Give that back!"

"I spent $25,000 on this ring when I asked you to marry me. All three times."

"Look I had missions-"

"You're just like him," Nightwing muttered, "I can't-Barbara, you've broken my heart too many times. I ran into Starfire over a year ago. I kept hoping you'd finally say yes, but you wouldn't even give me the time of day, so I started seeing her and-Barbara, I love her, we're getting married and we have a baby girl now."

"But we were-"

"In love? Yeah, I loved you, but you never seemed to love me. Keep the ring, but scratch off the engraving, I don't want any association with it."

Barbara watched as the ring hit the rooftop, bounced once and then landed at her feet with a zing!

She knelled down and gripped the ring in her hands, "B-but-"

"Barbara you expected me to wait for you and I did…for fifteen years. I'm tired of waiting only for you to find something more important than 'us' because if that's the kind relationship you want, then find someone else who can stand it because I'm tired of it."

"Wait, yes-I will marry you but-"

"Too late Barbara. You always expected me to wait for you, I did and I got tired of you blowing me off every time. Goodbye and do me one favor at least…"

"Don't come to my wedding."

That's that. And this also clears up that request for a sorrowful piece.

No, I'm not a fan of either DickXBabs or DickXKori in fact, in my opinion, romance is the lamest thing you can put in a story, full of clichés and makes me gag.