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"Honestly, Jason, don’t you think that’s that’s a bit much?"
Dick really hadn’t meant anything by the comment, let alone had any idea the chaos that would follow. They’d been making sandwiches in the kitchen, famished after patrol and not wanting to wake Alfred at this time of night. Jason, of course, had taken the opportunity to liberate a jar of hot peppers, chopping up what Dick considered a truly unnecessary amount of the things.
Jason gave him a level stare, and then summarily shoved an entire chili into his mouth.
The reaction was immediate. “Jason!” Dick cried out, aghast, while across the kitchen, Tim made a face and Damian rolled his eyes and muttered something dismissive.
Jason, expression entirely too smug, ate another one. And another.
"Okay, okay, you’ve made your point," Dick started, when suddenly, a thin hand reached over Jason’s shoulder and grabbed three more.
Jason turned around just in time to see Cassandra, newly arrived from the Cave, tilt her head back, drop all three in, chew, and swallow.
She looked back at Jason, eyebrow raised in challenge.
"… oh, it is on,” Jason said, reaching for the jar.
And thus began the most ill-advised competition between Bat siblings ever.
"I hope you both understand what a terrible idea this is," Tim warned. The two competitors ignored him, staring intensely across the short end of the table.
They had, in true Bat fashion, gone full out for the sake of the impromptu event, setting up on either side of the dining room table’s shortest length, jars of peppers lined up between them.
Not to mention, of course, the referee. Stopwatch and all.
"I can’t believe you agreed to this idiocy," Damian complained.
"Lighten up," Dick responded. "This should be good for a laugh." He turned to the others. "Ready?"
Jason gestured with a hand, quirking an eyebrow. “Ladies first?”
Cassandra shot him a look, but tore into the first jar.
"Give up?"
"Never."
Despite the bravado, they were both clearly starting to feel the toll of the five full jars of assorted hot chilis they had consumed between them.
Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately, really - their competition was at risk of ending there.
"I still can’t find any!" Dick called from the kitchen, the faint sound of clinking jars accompanying his statement.
"Keep looking!" they called back in unison. Dick groaned and returned to the search.
They locked eyes again, both panting slightly. Though neither was willing to admit defeat, they were, secretly, relieved by the break.
Tim, meanwhile, was messing around on his phone, no longer really paying attention. Damian had wandered off entirely.
Jason swallowed hard, measuring. ”We might have to… call it… a draw,” he offers at last.
"Never," Cass responds. "We’ll make him… go to… the store."
"No you won’t! " Dick called back.
"Then Tim. Or someone. Not getting off.. that easy…"
"Your funeral," Jason replied.
"Found one!" Dick called out, drawing back into the room with with a truly evil look on his face. Jason barely had time to worry before Dick had planted it between them.
Cautiously, Jason turned the jar towards him, checking the logo.
Hellfire Habaneros. Gourmet whole Red Savina Habaneros.
"What," he managed. "When did we even get these?”
Dick just shrugged. Jason glanced back at the table to Cassandra, who returned his stare with quite possibly the smuggest expression he had ever seen.
"It’s your turn," she reminded him.
Oh, God.
"I can do this." Jason stared at the pepper in his hand. "I can do this.”
"Lot of talk. No action."
Jason glared at her, and, steeling himself, bit…
… and spat it back out almost immediately. ”Oh God!” He spat again, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Nope. Nope. Even he had limits.
"Ha!" Cassandra leapt to her feet. "I win!"
"Okay! Okay! You win!" Jason raised a hand in defeat. He took a few deep breaths, panting against the burning. "But it’s time… for round two."
Cassandra paused mid-victory dance. “Round two?” she asked quizzically.
"Yeah… round two… race to the milk. " And with that, Jason was on his feet, moving for the kitchen.
"Hey!" Cass cried in protest, lunging after him.
Jason beat her to the fridge by milliseconds, tearing open the door and rooting through the contents. Cass, panting, tried to elbow him aside, shoving her face into the unit.
"What the - where’s-?"
"Looking for this?" A voice asked from behind them. In unison, they turned to see perhaps the most gutwrenching image they had ever seen - Damian, sitting by the sink, holding in his hands the sole remaining jug of milk. Lid on the counter beside him, he tilted the jug dangerously over the sink.
"You wouldn’t…” Jason said.
"Tt." Damian tilted it a bit farther, a trickle of the precious liquid pouring out. "I think you two deserve to suffer for such foolish- hey!" he broke off, for Tim, following behind, had thrown a dish towel over his head. In the confusion, he lunged for the jug, milk splashing everywhere as the two boys wrestled for the container.
"Grayson! Grayson, stop him!" Damian shouted. Dick, of course, did no such thing, doubled over with tears of laughter clouding his eyes.
"Cass! Catch!" One arm around Damian, Tim lobbed the milk towards her, and, diving, she caught it.
"That’s cheating!" Jason complained, but to no avail, as Cass lifted the container to her lips and began to chug.
Well fine then. Jason pulled open open the freezer, digging around until until he found his prize - the unopened half-gallon of neopolitan ice cream they’d picked up the day before. Jason and Cass had always fought for new containers, his sister always eating all the chocolate before he could get to it.
The cold would probably work better, anyway.
"No!" Cass cried as he tore it open, but but too late to stop him from digging in. Starting with the chocolate. Container still in hand, Cassandra wrestled with him, Jason determinedly keeping the container just out of reach.
"What’s going on here?"
They froze. As one, they looked towards the man standing in the doorway, hair still damp from his post-patrol shower. Tim, at least, had the decency to look sheepish.
Bruce raised an eyebrow, the demand for explanation evident.
Slowly, Cassandra released Jason, then held up the plastic jug.
"We’re out of milk," she informed him.