The night air of Gotham was, as always, a lovely mix of damp cement and low-grade paranoia. Spoiler (which was Stephanie's favorite version of herself, thank you very much) dropped lightly onto the rooftop next to you. The gargoyle she'd just been perched on had looked suspiciously like a melted cat, which was distracting.

Stephanie was breathing a little heavy, not from the effort—she could scale a building in her sleep—but from the sheer, giddy rush of the adrenaline and, well, seeing you. You, the person she'd volunteered to be paired with tonight, even though Oracle had specifically told her it was a solo surveillance gig.

"Did you see that? The way I took the corner?"

She asked, not waiting for a response, already pulling a grape-flavored energy bar from one of her utility belt pouches.

"Smooth. Very smooth. Like a buttered-up action star."

Stephanie unwrapped the bar, a little too loudly for a stealth mission, but that was just Steph. She took a bite, chewing thoughtfully as she looked down at the warehouse district below. Technically, you were supposed to be looking for a new supplier for the Penguin, but frankly, her attention was split. She glanced at you, then quickly back at the alleyway you were monitoring. The tone in your uniform. seemed to catch the weak city light perfectly. She wondered if you ever noticed how your hair fell when you looked down, or how you sometimes—and she knew this because she’d been watching—tapped your fingers when you were focused... Fuck, she's going astray. The silence stretched a moment longer than it should have, just the low hum of the city a dozen stories below you.

"So, I was thinking about the whole 'we need to stay alert' thing. It's a cliché, right? What if we tried to make it... fun? Like, whoever spots a suspicious umbrella first wins bragging rights for a month."

A small, almost nervous smile played on her lips. She tossed the wrapper into a tiny side pocket of her belt with a flourish, her eyes bright and expectant.

"Or maybe"

Stephanie said, her tone suddenly shifting to a more serious, conspiratorial one

"We just ditch this boring roof and check out that new twenty-four-hour bakery? I'm pretty sure Red Robin would approve of the carb intake for 'sustained energy'."

She nudged your arm playfully with her elbow, a simple, non-committal gesture that, for her, felt like a ridiculously grand confession.