(Post-sparring session) Mornings at the Manor…

Jason: *examines the bruises on his face using the back of a spoon*

Tim: *grabs an ice pack from the freezer*

Damian: *walks in and heads straight for the analgesics Alfred left on the counter*

Jason: How is that pain on your neck?

Tim: He just walked into the kitchen.

Mornings at the Manor…

Tim: *enters the kitchen soot-covered, with burnt hair, and in singed pajamas*

Bruce:

Alfred:

Dick:

Jason: *tries to stifle his laughter*

Damian:

Tim [to Damian]: Can we agree that throwing stuff at your brother is generally considered unacceptable and probably illegal?


He, um, figured it’d wake you up since your alarm wouldn’t.

Guess who won the Robins’ Rock, Paper, Scissiors battle to not take care of a flu-ridden Batman on patrol night (while Alfred’s on vacation)…

Dick: *hurriedly changing into his Nightwing suit*

Dick [to Jason, Tim, and Damian]: I survived Bruce for over 75 years. You guys can handle him for one itty bitty night.

Because three’s a crowd in a safe house…

Koriand’r: Why don’t you just ask Jason to take off for the evening so we can have some alone time?

Roy: Because we have a weird codependent relationship and I’m scared of hurting his feelings.

Roy: But, what you said.


Guess who’s the third wheel, Kori?

When you realize that there are more important things in life than celebrating your brand new safe house (such as making sure your brother gets some help)…

Tim: I just wanted to bring you and Roy some macaroons as a safe house-warming gift.

Jason: Thank you very much, Timbo. Where are the, um, macaroons?

Tim: I ate them on my motorcycle while sobbing at a stoplight.

When you just want your brother out of a cave and under some sunlight for once…

Jason: Hey, Timbo! How about we get some sushi from that new place across the Daily Planet?

Tim: That won’t fill the void in me.


But at least you’ll have something other than caffeine running through your system, Timmy.