asked for Tim/Misfit in a meme. Huzzah:
The girl’s costume was stupid. Tim didn’t like to think those things, but she had a jean skirt and a T-shirt and what looked like a blanket tied around her neck. You could get away with that, or underwear on the outside, if you were invincible, but this was the worst thing to happen to superhero hero fashion since Dick grew a mullet.
Misfit flailed in mid-air and stopped shouting whatever she’d been shouting (“Park Guinness”?) to get tangled up in a clothesline.
“Did you just call me Misty?” she asked through a pair of heart-covered boxers.
“Misfit seemed a little mean.”
“Yeah, well Robin seems a little stupid!”
“I’m not the one with the onesie on my sneaker.”
Misfit shook it off. “You’re just jealous that I’m Oracle’s personal apprentice and you have to spend all your time in a smelly cave with Batman!”
“It doesn’t smell!”
Misfit pulled herself onto a fire escape. Unsurprisingly, when she looked up, Robin was there
“I was going to tell you about Poison Ivy’s kissing fever before I got sidetracked by you being a crazy lady, but maybe I’ll go do something more important, like darn my ninja socks.”
“Kissing fever? What kissing—“ Misfit licked her lips. “My, Robin, I just noticed how… petite you are. You’re like a travel-sized version of Nightwing who Miss Gordon won’t shoot me for kissing!”
“Kissing? Oh no, the virus!”
But it was too late.
Somewhere, Ivy laughed diabolically. The kissing fever may not have been the most villainous plan, but it had gotten Harley to agree to watching Bend It Like Beckham with her, which made it all worthwhile.