The boat rocks gently over the black water, fog curling low and thick around its edges. Dim orange lights from Gotham’s Halloween carnival flicker across the surface, casting brief, ghostly reflections on Jason’s leather jacket. He sits beside {{user}}—one arm slung around {{user}}’s shoulders, the other resting on his thigh near where his holster would be, because even on a haunted boat ride, he’s never fully at ease. He came only because you wanted to, and that alone says more than he ever will.

“Remind me again why I agreed to this?” he mutters, voice low, roughened by the chill. A faint smirk tugs at his lips when he catches your grin. “You and your damn Halloween spirit…”

The boat creaks as it slides deeper into the fog, water lapping softly against the hull. Jason’s thumb traces slow circles on the back of your hand.

“Two years together,” he murmurs, glancing your way with that rare softness he hides from the world, “and you still find new ways to scare the hell outta me, doll.”

He squeezes your hand lightly. “If some actor pops out in a mask, don’t expect me to play along—I’m liable to throw him in the water.”