Batman, Robin, and Knight Wolf... it had been that way for years. That is until Dick Grayson left in the night, leaving Bruce Wayne and Blair Wilde to protect Gotham by themselves. Two weeks after Dick's departure, Bruce showed up to the Batcave one...
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Blair danced around in the kitchen, her phone connected to a small but powerful speaker that she set up in the corner by the spice rack. On the stove, bacon sizzled in a pan and a stack of waffles sat on a plate. She had woken up early, surprised to find herself still in the clothes she wore the night before at the bonfire while Jason slept next to her. She managed to take a shower, change, and cook breakfast all without waking him up.
Until right then. Jason wandered into the kitchen, his hair sticking up in all different directions, "What the-"
"I made waffles!" Blair grinned, pointing to the plate sitting on the counter as she turned around to flip the bacon.
Jason stared at her in amazement, "You did what?"
"I made waffles." She repeated. "You know, for breakfast?"
"God the lights are bright." He squinted, rubbing his eyes. He tilted his head, taking in the music she was listening to. "Are you listening to Pink?"
"Yes I am." Blair turned back around, taking in his squinted eyes and widened her own. "Oh shit, you're hungover, aren't you?"
"How are you not?" Jason exclaimed, genuinely curious. "You drank more than me."
Blair shrugged, "I've never had a hangover."
Jason blinked in disbelief, "Never? Not even once?"
"Nope. Never."
"How the hell is that even possible?"
"Just lucky I guess. Should I turn down the music? Ben used to get headaches when he was hungover when we were all kids. Loud music made them worse. And Jules would get sick." Blair eyed him, looking him up and down suspiciously before backing up. "Are you sick?"
"No, I'm fine." He said quickly. Blair raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Really, I mean, it'll pass."
"So is that a yes or a no on me turning down the music?"
"It's fine." Jason insisted, forcing himself to stop squinting underneath the bright lights. "I'll manage."
Blair still looked a little apprehensive as she studied his bleary expression, "Are you sure?"
He nodded, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Yeah."
Blair slid him a glass of orange juice as she made a plate of waffles and bacon. He caught the glass with ease, sniffing it suspiciously and studying it closely. He lifted his eyes to meet Blair's confused expression, "Hangover cure?"
"No," She laughed, which immediately made him smile. "Just orange juice."
Shrugging, he took a giant gulp before setting it back down on the counter. He looked up, glancing around the kitchen before looking back at Blair who just turned off the stove, "Where's Alfred? Isn't he usually in here helping?"
