Re: quicklog -- steph/dami: stephanie's loft.
[She thwacked him hard on the arm.] I'm not drunk, this is my first drink. You'll know if I'm actually drunk, baby bird. And don't look at me like that! [She waved a hand at him again, at his leering, and she tried to glare at him even though the corners of her mouth were twitching. She pulled a face at him and his needling, and it reminded her briefly of a moment in snow all those years ago, when they were both home -- their first Gotham. But, her face softened a little as she watched him interact with the animals, rolling her eyes at the disgust over Flounder's name.] Oh, I'm sorry it's not Titus.
[It was refreshing to be able to sit around and act like this again -- slightly carefree, more at ease for needling. The last Damian had been in a bad, bad place, and she and he had lost that sort of relationship somewhere along the way. Steph hoped -- really hoped -- that it would never spiral down like that again. That he would never spiral down like that again. And then, he stole her drink, and she knew, at least for now, that they would be okay.
At least he was still the same asshat.
She scoffed, but let him keep the glass, nudging her shoulder against his as she walked around to the cabinet to grab another glass and fish for the bottle of whiskey. Once found, she slid it across the kitchen bar towards him.] Oh thanks. That's the biggest compliment I've ever heard from you. [And she found herself self-consciously tugging at the ends of the shirt before shaking her head.] You're not as much of a twerp as I remember.