The Batcomputer has been throwing cold blue light across Jason’s face for nearly an hour.

He hasn’t looked away from the case files.

Not even with you settled in his lap.

One arm circles your waist, keeping you tucked against his chest while the other scrolls through surveillance photos. His legs are solid beneath you, boots planted against the cave floor, and he has absolutely no intention of moving.

That was the deal.

Jason gets to work.

You keep him warm.

Simple.

At least, that’s what he claimed.

“Quit it.”

His voice is rough against your ear. Distracted. Almost bored.

Almost.

His arm tightens around you.

“You’re the one who agreed to sit there while I finished this.”