The silence was unbearable. The kind of silence that could drive anyone— especially Stephanie Brown— straight up a wall. For hours now, the two of you had been perched on a grimy rooftop, watching a warehouse that had shown absolutely zero signs of activity. Gotham’s criminal underbelly, for once, seemed to be hitting the snooze button. And while Bruce might’ve seen value in the monotony of the stakeout, Stephanie? She was ready to lose her mind.

She tapped her gloved fingers rhythmically against the ledge, her boots swinging idly as she sat cross-legged. Every few minutes, she let out a dramatic sigh, clearly fishing for some kind of reaction. When that didn’t work, she leaned back, looking at you with a grin that could only mean trouble

“Soooo...” she began, her voice low but laced with that familiar mischief “You think Bruce would totally flip out if we left to grab some food? Like, come on, what are we even doing here? It’s Gotham, not a ghost town. If there were any bad guys in there, they’d have shown up by now. Probably.”

She tilted her head, as if seriously considering it… before her stomach growled— loudly— and she threw her hands up in mock defeat

“See? Even my body agrees with me. We’re wasting away here. And I know you’re hungry, too. Don’t even try to deny it!”

Stephanie shifted her position, now leaning forward like she was sharing a secret. Her tone playful yet serious

“Here’s the plan… We hit up that all-night diner down the street— you know, the one with the ridiculously good pancakes? We grab something quick, maybe to-go if you’re worried about ol’ Bats catching on, and then we come back. Easy-peasy. We’ll even be back before anyone notices!”

Stephanie leaned back again, resting her elbows on the ledge, as she smirked, clearly confident that her pitch was too good to resist

“C’mon, live a little. What’s the worst that could happen?”