We were the best

Jason lifted his Jack in proud salute. “Maybe,” he told Steph. Then, in a stage whisper, “But it’s definitely the final destination.” His smile was unrepentant, because fuck, there were enough bat babies to patrol the city for tonight. He didn’t have any plans to make volatile explosives go boom for the night, so, yolt. He was sure Steph could appreciate the phrase.

Either Jason underestimated his level of intoxication, or was playing it up in his favour, but regardless, the wobble as he leaned forward and cleaned off the fork she’d been fully prepared to eat brought a radiant smile to her face. He came close enough she didn’t need to guess what he was drinking, she could smell it on his breath, ghosting against her lips. Not breaking eye contact, she accepted the flask, raising it and taking a relaxed swig. She’d already hung up the cape and cowl for the night, metaphorically speaking. She could afford a little fun.

Damian watched the two figures, at first flabbergasted, but as the flask passed between them, the jagged pieces clicked suddenly and painfully into place.

"Hey, if it isn’t my favorite," Jason drawled, resting his cheek against his own shoulder, fixing Stephanie with a wide grin. Not that his compliment meant much, technically. Dick was insufferable, Replacement was also insufferable, and the brat was wound tighter than Bruce’s sense of morality. Not as many kinks, though. 

Stephanie titled her head as she settled into her usual seat, an easy smile painting its way across her lips. “Favourite?” Looking down at the proffered container, her eyes lit with a glee that quickly consumed her whole face. “Favourite! Psh, flatterer.”

Patrol: uneventful. Disrupted the robbery of an electronic store and scared the literal piss out of a few graffiti artists downtown. He was well on his way home when a familiar silhouette caught his eye from the rooftops.