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CHARACTERS: Stephanie "Sunshine" Brown (

rhymeswithdeath) and John "Eyebrows" Blake (

learnedtosmile)
LOCATION: space kitchen.
WARNINGS: bat-feelings (none so far!).
SUMMARY: friendship is magic, but teaching John about it is hard.
NOTES: don't judge me.

[ When Steph gets to the kitchen, she's a little sore after literally running into poor Annabeth. Even superheroes bruise sometimes, you know. Normally after a boss battle with one of their super-human rogues and not after a bony, hallway collision, but same difference. The dork knight isn't going to mention her clutziness unless confronted with solid proof and a serious lack of exits,

Whatever, though, she's fine. Waffles aren't hard to make, anyway — they're kind of her thing now. She's had more than enough practice making them, after all. So what if it's afternoon? Time matters not when waffles are in mind, so lunch waffles with the Detective are totally fine in her book.

Besides, she needed an excuse to talk to him more.

It's obvious he doesn't trust her yet (or anyone, maybe), and she doesn't blame him for that. Stephanie just...still doesn't get him, and she'd like to fix that. Bat-family is bat-family. Plus, if she knows her bat-family traits (which she does; backwards and forwards), Blake could be in need of friends. Maybe.

Even if he doesn't, she now has delicious waffles, which is as rewarding as the magic of friendship (if not moreso). ]

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[Blake's been wearing the jeans a lot, since he got them in his locker last jump. They're comfortable, familiar, something that makes him feel a little less like a police detective (which he doesn't really feel like much anymore anyway) and more like a regular guy.

Maybe a little less like a guy who might be tasked with carrying the burden of Batman, someday.

And Stephanie is still a mystery, and yeah, okay, he's a helpful sort of guy in his bones - someone asks him for something in good faith, he'll do his best to provide. And company is easy, even if he doesn't consider himself the most social person around. He only really feels comfortable with Ariadne these days, but that's... private.

But waffles, he thinks he can do. And she does mean well - that much, he believes. So he slips into the kitchen quietly, hands in his pockets, following his nose. It does smell pretty good. Might be better than the mac and cheese he'd made for Ariadne.]

I've always liked breakfast for lunch. Or dinner.

Then you, sir, have excellent taste. Bravo, John. [ Her voice is as chipper as ever, and she has a smile to match. Being peppy is pretty much her thing, after all. ]

[ She plates up the waffles. It's obvious that she made more than necessary, but it doesn't seem to bother her. ] So, not gonna lie, this is my attempt at [ jazz hands ] bat-bonding. I mean, if we're playing for the same team, it's better that we know each other well, right? Team work makes the dream work and friendship is magic, y'know? [ she speaks with her hands the whole time, almost excessively. ]

[She's kind of like a bulldozer, just running over any objections or questions he might have with her hand gestures and her cheerfulness.

For the most part, Blake almost finds it... soothing now, rather than off-putting. Like he can just sit here, eat some waffles, and let her peppiness wash over him.]

Friendship is magic? What Saturday morning cartoon did you take that from? [He's smiling vaguely, though.]

[ she's glad John didn't protest or dismiss her ideas of bat-bonding. she's not used to people like him just going with her suggestions (even her more serious ones). it's a nice change of pace, even if it's still surprising ]

Excuse you, I write my own material. [ her delivery is deadpan, but only for a second. then she's smiling again. ] It's from the one about magic ponies. Also, friendship.

I might make up for my lack of childhood by watching Saturday morning cartoons with my mom. Fair warning.

Ponies, right. [He shakes his head a little, but still smiling.]

It's good. That you can do that. You should take advantage of it, however you can.

And you should smile more often. [ a sigh because, yeah, she should take advantage of it, and she doesn't always. ]

[ but she's getting better. ] My mom knows, by the way. About my night job. She's a nurse, and apparently wonder boy and company didn't get the memo about her hospital being off-limits. [ or maybe you were in critical condition, Steph. ] On the upside, when you're hooked up to IV, most people are too concerned to yell at you, even overbearing parents and caped crusaders.

When I was a kid, telling me to smile more often would earn a scowl as often as not. [He's more good-natured about it now, though that doesn't mean he'll smile on cue.]

I can see why a parent would be understandably upset to find their child doing something so dangerous. I'd say it means she must care about you.

Well, yeah. I didn't expect it to go over easy, but we've got it figured out now. She's trying to make up for leaving me high and dry when I was younger, y'know? [ she doesn't sound too upset about that, though. it's a off-hand comment, and she's still smiling easily. ]

That's good. I'm glad. [It's the normal thing to say, right? And he is glad she has a mother, a mom, someone who cares. But he doesn't really have much more to say about it. It's an experience totally alien to him. So he just nods and takes a bite of waffle.]

So, what about you? Do you, uh — have a family? [ and that's the catch. she's been opening up in hopes that he'll do the same.

she isn't subtle, but she tried. ]

No. [Well, he's been honest about everything else. And she's not the first person on the Tranquility that he's told. Still, as much out of old habit as anything, he braces himself for the inevitable response.]

Oh. [ She doesn't know what to say to that. It's never been her forte, but — she was prepared for this. bat-family history is never too cheerful. ] Were you raised by assassins — I mean, who'd you grow up with?

[That gets his lips to twitch a little - just a little. At least it's not that simpering 'I'm so sorry' crap he gets so often.] No, I'd say my story is pretty typical for poor kids in Gotham. After my dad died, I got shuffled around a few foster homes, then ended up in a boys' home. Guy named Reilly runs the place. He's a good guy. Still do some volunteering there, when I can.

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I'M SO SORRY this NOTIF was hiding in spam ;;

Stupid spam filters!

we can't let them bring us down!!

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