ofrobin:
Damian raises an eyebrow seeing Lois sit down across from him. He doesn’t say anything at first, but didn’t really mind. He was taking up too much of the table with pretty much nothing anyway. “It’s fine. If he didn’t want to be exposed then they shouldn’t have been getting involved with anything suspicious.” He replies with a smile. “You’re safe here with me. Let’s just see them try to mess with the two of us.”
He laughs softly for minute, but he can’t say no to a treat. “A croissant would be great actually.”
“Damian,” Lois greeted, an easy smile taking shape on her mouth. It had been a while. Times were hectic, and they had little excuse to make the trip down to Gotham these days. “Not to be one of those old people that’s always like ‘oh, wow, you’ve gotten so big’ every time I see you, but, fuck. Look at you! Stop growing.”
Lois swung her handbag on the table, holding up a finger and rifling through it with her other hand. “Forget the croissant,” she supplied a crumpled paper bag, sliding it across the table to Damian. “Baklava, from Aria Sweets on 42nd and Broadway. Help yourself.”
