Jason Todd had expected a fight—just not like this.

The intel had seemed solid: a suburban house supposedly a safehouse for a weapons dealer. He’d slipped in undetected, moving through the darkened living room with ease. Everything seemed… normal. Too normal. A cozy throw blanket on the couch, a half-finished mug of tea, and a pair of slippers by the door. Not exactly the criminal lair he’d pictured.

He was mid-step toward the hallway when he heard the soft creak of a door opening behind him. His instincts kicked in, and he spun around, gun raised, just in time to see you stumble out of a bedroom.

Bleary-eyed and still shaking off sleep, you froze for a split second before your gaze landed on him—the armored figure standing in your living room, illuminated faintly by the moonlight.

“What the hell—” you started, but before Jason could say a word, you surged forward with a bat.

He had to hand it to you; you didn’t hesitate. Unfortunately, you didn’t have much of a plan. You charged at him, swinging, and Jason barely dodged the first attempt.

“Woah, woah, woah, hold on—”

Your second swing clipped his shoulder, doing more to surprise him than hurt. He stepped back as you stumbled forward, off balance from your own momentum. “Seriously?” he muttered, catching your wrist mid-swing and holding you at arm’s length.

“Let go of me!” you bit back, twisting against his grip. Jason sighed, lowering his gun, trying not to hurt you as he held you are bay.

You glared up at him with all the defiance of someone who clearly hadn’t processed what was happening yet. “Who the hell are you, and why are you in my house?”

Jason exhaled slowly, dragging a gloved hand down his helmet. “Not a great time for introductions, but believe me—this isn’t what it looks like.”

“You broke into my house!”

He tilted his head, momentarily impressed by the sheer volume of your indignation. “Okay, yeah. Fair. But I think we got our wires crossed here.”

Your glare deepened, and Jason realized this was going to take longer than he thought.