Barbara is too cold and tired to speak, at least for right now. Her hands wrapped around a caffeine fix so dark, it could pass off as petroleum.

If there’s one thing that's consistent with all of the late-night diners of Gotham? It'd be how the coffee tastes like gasoline no matter where you go. The fluorescent lighting hanging from above, and the heavy snowfall outside make her feel a bit nostalgic. But it’s a lot easier to swallow down all the bitterness when it’s accompanied by a nauseating amount of cream and sugar.

"So," she began, taking another gulp before placing the mug down. As she looks into the eyes sitting across from her, Barbara can briefly see all the lifetimes they've shared together — All the way from elementary school to graduation. Back then, their naivety fueled every dream and ambition, but the candy coating of the season didn't seem to be able to hide the harsh truths of reality. "Anything new going on with you?"

It was more than just small talk on her part, as she somehow managed a smile while trying not to pick apart every little detail of her friend's appearance out of worry. Work made every day that passed feel tumultuous yet also monotonous; the only communication shared between them was the occasional call or text every few months or so.

When this reprieve ends, Barbara’ll inevitably be thrust back into her responsibilities. It feels like her life is slipping past her fingers, but she still finds it in herself to be grateful that there are some things that time will never change — Both their laughs still sound exactly the same.

The grease of late-night hashbrowns and buttery pancakes will never be enough for her mind to completely slip past the grit and grime of the city. The table they’re sitting at is sticky, but that could only mean one thing. The food will always be good, but it tastes just so much better with the right company.