Listen, he meant to make a good impression, okay? But it was difficult when the very hot-gorgeous-charming single parent in the same apartment complex was up and outside late—or maybe it was just early?—leaving Jason without time to change before the neighbor saw the Red Hood, killer and leader of the drug trade, enter the apartment next door. Who wants that around their kid?

So Jason needed an explanation, fast, and he did not come up with one, fast. So there he was, the next day, early/late, after his neighbor-crush’s kid went off to school. In the full Red Hood costume, right in his neighbor’s apartment. The awkward smile would be cranked up to a hundred, were his mask not on. The door was open, blinds swinging slightly with the wind, making it obvious how he found his way inside.

But with all the logic he could muster, he creeped up behind and put a hand over the other’s mouth. "Shh, shush, please don’t scream," he whispered. "I just need to talk, okay?" Slowly, Jason walked away, hands up. Honestly, he was expecting to get punched in the face—oh, there was that punch in the face, ow.

"Okay, ow," he hissed. At least the hit was deflected by the mask, and when he felt over it—it had a dent. Holy shit. That was kind of hot. "Listen, I’m not trying to hurt you or your kid, I just— I know you saw me get into the apartment with the key, which I get was really stupid, but, um," ooh, and his brain stopped working. Apparently the man couldn’t find it in himself to be serious and intimidating when everything was on the line.

"Just— look, I won’t hurt your or your kid, I just said that— please don’t tell," he finally mustered, with a ridiculous pleading look in his eyes.