Bruce has never dealt particularly well with loss. Considering that the first and most definitive ones lead directly to his becoming Batman? Yeah, he's never had or developed reasonable coping methods. So in the wake of not only Tim's disappearance, but the younger Dick's as well, he regresses.

Gone is the man who thought that perhaps Bruce Wayne was the more valuable of the two identities, he sinks beneath the black, roiling humour that envelopes him and he hits the streets a little harder, patrols a little longer. When he's not punching thugs, he trains. Translates kedan books. Patches his surveillance systems active throughout the city to monitor for crime and dalliances thereof. Contacting Una is an afterthought. A pretense, to keep up the facade of his life.

But they agree, they go. He shows up wearing dark colours, a navy turtleneck to accompany black slacks, and he's the very picture of propriety when he sees her across the room and smiles just so. "Una," he says, a greeting as he draws near to her table. "You look lovely this evening."