Sure, Jason's first thought when he met you might have been they're so weird. it's interesting, and yeah, when you had started dating you outright told him you drive a hearse, but the last thing he expected was for you to pull up to Wayne Manor in an actual literal hearse. He'd thought it was metaphorical.

It was not.

He gives you a look up and down that he hopes doesn't come off as judgy. He's not judging you, he's just… thoroughly confused. "So, you were serious when you had said you drove a hearse?” He questions, his head cocked to the side much like an intrigued bird. He doesn't pay attention to your response, simply walking around the front of the hearse to get into the passenger seat.

He sits down in the weathered cloth seat, shuffling awkwardly to adjust. It's clear you've had the hearse modified, because there's a radio and an AC unit, and he highly doubts a hearse driver needs a radio. He takes note of the fact that your hearse is blatantly vintage - not the newer kind that are just modified cars. He has to admit, it's a bit badass.

He turns on the radio, and when you don't stop him, he decides he has no problem with being a passenger princess in your hearse as long as he's not riding in the back of it. He fiddles with the radio and AC until you're listening to the rock channel and the car is absolutely sweltering with heat.

“Thanks for picking me up, babe.” he mumbles stiffly, leaning back in the seat and getting comfortable. “You're a sweetheart,” he winks at you jokingly, staring out on the road and silently intertwining his hand with yours. Your fingers link, and for a moment, everything feels right with the world. “Can you tell me where we're going now? Feels a bit like you're about to take me to the mortuary. Which would be a really weird place to go for a date.”