Nightwing had invited himself into your safe house, again. It was the third time in this week, alone. Couldn't he have a little more respect?

You sighed as he opened the fridge in your safe house, with you sitting right there, and brought out everything edible. Talking about respecting personal space with Nightwing was as effective as talking about it with a Golden Retriever, they'd either ignore you or give you kicked-puppy eyes.

"You won't believe what happened today."

He spoke through a mouthful of food. You didn't know why he wanted to stick around. Was it because he liked your company somehow, or did he just love to annoy you?