Three's Company Too

Run To The Hills

Robin stirred, her eyes fluttering open to greet the soft light of dawn. She groggily sat up in bed, her messy hair falling into her eyes. Memories of the previous night's events slowly filtered back into her mind, and with them, a sense of dread settled in her stomach. With a resigned sigh, she threw off the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The plush carpet sank beneath her toes as she stood up, the morning chill in the air waking her fully.

Steve was in the kitchen manifesting some very inventive omelets with the leftovers from his botched attempt at comforting Nancy. He finished them off with some ketchup and placed one at Robin's usual seat and one at his. The smell of meatloaf, eggs and coffee all mingled in the air to greet Robin as she emerged from her cave.

Robin entered the kitchen, her eyes adjusting to the bright lights and to the aroma of Steve's cooking. The sight of the omelets made her stomach grumble, and her still-sleepy brain began to wake up as she sipped some coffee from her cat mug that Steve placed in her hand.

She yawned audibly and took her seat, eyeing the ketchup-decorated omelet with a mix of trepidation and amusement. "Creative design choice there, Harrington," she quipped, her voice still heavy with sleep.

Steve laughed a little, digging in with his fork. "I swear I wasn't stoned when I came up with this. I just wanted some protein."

To his delight, the experiment was a success and he started to devour his plate. Robin chuckled at Steve's response and took a tentative bite of the omelet. To her surprise, it was actually pretty good despite the clash of ingredients.

"Not bad," she conceded between bites. "You may have a hidden talent for unexpected creations, Steve Harrington."

"I might have a cooking show one day. You can be my sous chef," he said with a victorious grin plastered across his face. 

Robin smirked at Steve's suggestion, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Sous chef, huh? Sounds fancy. As long as you don't expect me to wear one of those goofy white hats," she teased, her voice light.

"Oh come on, we're totally gonna wear the hats and the jackets," he said incredulously. 

Robin laughed at the thought, her head thrown back. "Alright, but only if you promise to wear an apron with a little heart on it. You know, for balance," she joked, her smile widening.

"Deal. I'll wear the girliest apron there is and you can wear a manly one. Like one for a blacksmith," Steve suggested, enjoying the mental image more than he'd like to admit. 

"A blacksmith apron? Sounds good to me. I can just picture it now - you in a frilly pink apron and me in a rugged leather one, brandishing spatulas instead of hammers," Robin joked. She chuckled at the absurd image, and somehow, it made the whole idea more appealing.

"Ooh that's a good logo idea," Steve said almost entirely seriously.

He finished off his food and went to wash his plate, placing it on the drying rack. Today they had to work, and Friday was their busy night. That meant they had until four to rendezvous with the Hellfire Club and Co. Steve went to go pick up the phone, deciding to give Joyce a call. Robin listened as Steve picked up the phone and dialed Joyce's number. Her thoughts turned to the mission they had agreed to undertake later that day. It made her a little apprehensive, but she knew it was necessary.

As Steve waited for Joyce to answer, Robin finished her own omelet and put her plate in the sink. Scrubbing it clean, she listened absently to Steve's half of the exchange, her mind preoccupied with what lay ahead.

Hopper was over at Joyce's place, apparently. The two of them were trying to come up with a plan so they needed everyone on the same page. The younger kids were all at school, and there wouldn't be enough time in between their final class and work for Steve and Robin. They'd have to wait until Saturday morning. Joyce seemed determined to still try and figure things out while she had the free time.