Jason really didn't have time for this. Crime didn't take a break for turkey and pie, not in Gotham where, shit, the current guy he was sitting on in a safehouse probably would have come up with any number of turkey-based crimes involving pies as clues, and that was even ignoring the fact that the whole point of the people they were fighting was to take away good American holidays away and replace them with salutes to a Chtulthu-headed symbol.
But nothing was hopping, and if he stalled any longer on getting this to Mia, he wouldn't at all, and that didn't seem quite right; he could tell himself that he would be just fine with it, and realized that the effort he'd need to put into convincing himself wasn't worth it when he could just drop off the damn books and be done with the whole thing.
It was a snapping cold day for a bike ride up to Stately Wayne Manor, even in his good leather jacket, and that made it a relief to step in the back door, red helmet tucked under one arm, slightly-crumpled gift bag in the other. It lasted exactly as long as it took to learn that - while there was, in fact, leftover pie - Mia was here, in the nursery. He was tempted to shove the bag at Alfred, swipe the pie on the way out, and book it back to where things made sense, but if he didn't show his face to Mia, she would hold it over his head for the next six to twelve months.
So, up to the nursery, holding the bag out in front of him like a shield towards Mia. "Yo," he said, trying not to eye the activities going on in the room with as much wariness as he felt. He hadn't taken off his jacket, still had his helmet, he was just here long enough to do the thing in a way that proved he'd done the thing and then he was leaving. "This is for the thing."