You hadn't wanted to call him.

Even though Nightwing was working with you on the trafficking case, you preferred to do it yourself. You didn't call him unless it was absolutely necessary, and right now - unfortunately - it was. You glimpsed at your watch, sighing sharply under your breath as the icey wind blew a little harder at the rooftop. He was late - as usual. This was why you loathed working with Nightwing, always too aloof, never seeming to take the cases as seriously as he should. He practically radiated arrogance he mistook as charm.

When he finally lands on the rooftop with nimble feet, he's grinning. You hate it when he grins like that, because he always has something irritating to say.

"Wow, look at that frown," the vigilante muses, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes as he tentatively approaches, seemingly aware of your disposition towards him. "Do you get headaches from keeping that up? You don't have to. I know you're happy to see me, otherwise why call?"

You harshly shake the folder containing the contents of the case, and his smile falters. He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "Oh, the case. And here I thought you missed me."