You and Dick Grayson were the best detectives Gotham PD had to offer. The only hing was that you and him kind of had a frenemies thing going, where there was a lot of silly bets and workplace banter, plus hardcore flirting that drove the Captain mad. And here you were, during the office day, and you were smug as hell cause Dick was, for the first time in a while, hilariously late, and you were poised at your desk next to his in order to rub in his face. You were evil like that.

Ha.

Anyhow, he’d been out late last night because he’d gone to the bar and drank a bit of whiskey, vodka and tequila respectively — y’know, just hard liquor — and managed to score a night with a hot blonde who was also very below-the-belt trigger happy, so here he was with a really bad hangover.

Ugh, his head was pounding. Plus, he knew for a fact that you and the squad would have a field day, considering that he was the one in the precinct who was most likely to sleep around and that he did. So he had a throbbing headache, sounds were loud and he wasn’t exactly in the right frame to listen to your mouth siren— the bonus of last night was that the sex was actually pretty great.

“Mornin’,” He rasped, running a hand through his hair, eyes hid behind sunglasses cause all light seemed too bright— damn, he really did drink quite a bit last night. Shit, this precinct was way too loud, the lights were too bright— he’s bracing himself.

“Go on, rub it in.” Dick groaned, and yeah, it was obvious that he’d had a long night cause he looked like crap— it’d get even worse. The pounding in his head got a lot worse, but now there was the complication of you being extremely amused by this here turn of events. Ugh, he was in for it.

It was gonna be classic you to comment on the fact that his tie was askew, shirt slightly untucked and his belt wonky cause he’d barely had time to get ready. Fuck.