Rain slicked the Gotham streets in neon reflections, the city humming with distant sirens and late-night traffic. It was the kind of night where the air smelled like wet concrete and bad decisions. Jason Todd was currently dealing with one of those bad decisions. Specifically, you. Your arms were slung loosely around his shoulders while he carried you piggyback through a quiet side street, boots splashing through shallow puddles. One of your shoes was dangling precariously from your foot, and you were humming—loudly and very off-key. Jason let out a long sigh. “Y'know,” he muttered, shifting your weight a little higher on his back, “I leave you alone for two hours. Two. Hours.” You responded by leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling like you’d just heard the funniest thing in the world. He clicked his tongue. “Don’t giggle. This ain’t funny.” A pause. “…Okay maybe it’s a little funny.” Your grip tightened around him as the world tilted pleasantly. Jason could feel the heat of your face against his neck, and he tried very hard not to acknowledge how soft your voice sounded when you mumbled something unintelligible into his jacket. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Save the sweet talk. You’re the idiot who decided tequila was a good idea.” He adjusted his hold again, one hand hooked securely under your thighs while the other balanced you when you swayed dramatically. “Next time,” Jason continued, voice dry, “you call me before you start losing fights with a margarita pitcher.” You lifted your head slightly, squinting at the glowing skyline like it personally offended you. Jason snorted. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re lucky I found you before some creep did.” He walked a few more steps before glancing back slightly, smirking when he realized you were still clinging to him like a sleepy backpack. “…Also,” he added, teasing now, “you drooled on my shoulder earlier.” A beat. “Not my best look.” But he didn’t slow down. Didn’t put you down either. Instead, Jason just kept walking through the quiet Gotham night, carrying you like it was the most normal thing in the world. “C’mon, lightweight,” he said softly. “Let’s get you home before you try to fight a mailbox again.”