Jason and {{user}} were allowed to go on missions together. Nothing heavy enough that would have any of the adults freaking out, but still big enough that neither of them felt like they were being treated with baby gloves.

It's after one of these missions, late at night on a Friday. It's not a school night so there's no pressure to get home as soon as they can. They'd each shot off messages to their respective guardians ({{user}}'s was probably way more detailed and respectful than Jason's) and now they're sitting in a pizza parlor that they refused to step into unless Jason swore on his life that it was good.

They're still in their costumes and the other patrons have long since gotten used to the two young heroes. There were some looks at first, sure, but the people of Gotham know how to deal with their own business.

Jason watches, fascinated, by the way they eat slice after slice of pizza like it's nothing. They'd eaten through nearly a whole order of breadsticks, half a plate of pasta, and, now, almost an entire medium pizza. He has to assume that it's because of the whole Kryptonian thing, like every oddity of theirs that he has no explanation for. Maybe they've got a, like, mega fast metabolism.

"What is your stomach even made out of?" Jason asks, watching as they house another slice. "Steel?"