She should be his partner. He should be staring into the eyes of his partner, right now, and he hated that he didn't know. She moved like the sea. Beneath the table, Bruce closed both fists and held until his knuckles whitened.
"A different life," he confessed, knowing that if she were still up to her old tricks, he was handing her on a golden plate the opportunity to run unchecked over the city, stealing whatever would satisfy her heart. With a half-hearted gesture, he waved vaguely at the clothing she'd already pegged as a little more casual than what either of them were used to. "This isn't Gotham, and it needs something other than me."
He almost asked, "Do you want to hold onto me?" but... didn't. Instead, he waved the waiter over.
"She'll have... a cranberry and soda. I'll switch to coffee." When the waiter had left, he set one hand down on the table and leaned forward a little.