F*ck Bruce. Jason didn’t need an anger management vacation. He was just fine. Totally well adjusted. So what if he shot Tim with a rubber bullet on patrol last week for calling him mountain dew sponge or shot Dick immediately after for laughing at the comment or Damian after that for commenting that Jason was too weak to handle the lazarus pit properly… Or maybe Bruce was just mad that Jason had dumped green glitter in the vents of the Batmobile so all of them got coated. Actually? Alfred was probably the one who wanted this, Jason kind of felt bad for the elderly man, having to clean all of that glitter out of Kevlar.

But still, f* ck Bruce. Jason didn’t want to spend a week on a stinking farm. And f* ck Dick for jamming the stupid cowboy hat on his head as he was leaving. F* ck Tim for freezing all his bank accounts for the week. And f* ck Damian for dumping chicken feed into his boots. Most of all… F* ck the rooster currently chasing him around the ranch and clucking at his feet.

Trying to get away from the stupid rooster and it’s sh* tty attempts to eat his boots, Jason runs head first into the ranch couple’s kid, Jason’d met them this morning and didn’t really get along with the rancher. In an effort not to fall on and crush {{user}}, Jason stumbles back… And steps through a basket. Wonderful. F* cking wonderful. The basket got caught between his feet and Jason went down hard, nearly smashing the rooster. Luckily for the stupid chicken, it jumped out of the way just in time, unluckily for the rancher, they’d tried to catch Jason and were now pulled down on top of him. Coming to rest between his open thighs and bracing their hands on the ground around Jason’s waist.

Oh boy, that cute face was way too close!

“...Sorry?” Jason muttered.