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If Jason had known that asking Dick for help one night during patrol would result in this as payment for his debt he would have let himself die again. Ok, so maybe that was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t much of one, not when he found himself stuck in the manor attempting to outdo the youngest Robin in a glaring match.
The two sat across from each other at one of the manor’s tables and had been there since everyone, including Alfred, had left the building. Somehow, despite both Damian and Jason’s protests it was decided that it would be best if the two stayed together for the day.
Translation: Jason Todd was stuck babysitting.
Their mutual glare match was interrupted by Damian’s stomach growling. In the quiet manor the typically small noise seemed to echo through the room amplifying its sound to that indicative of a whale call.
Jason couldn’t hide the grin on his face at Damian’s cheeks reddening with sudden embarrassment, and his grin only widened when the young boy scowled and turned his glare down towards his traitorous stomach.
Jason pushed himself away from the table and stood, "Come on, kid. Let's find you something to eat, I wouldn't be a good sitter if I didn't feed you."
The glare returned to Jason, who ignored it heading for the door.
"You are not my sitter."
"According to Grayson I am, and when Golden Boy says something, it's pretty much law. You coming?" He was at the door by then and turned to glance behind him. Damian scowled but got up to follow him.
Jason hummed to himself as he dug through the fridge pulling out various vegetables before setting them next to him on the counter. When he turned his attention to the freezer in search of some protein he glanced at Damian. The kid’s face was scrunched into a frown that he seemed desperate to try and turn into another glare.
“What’s up kid?”
“You’re cooking?”
“That’s usually what happens when you’re in a kitchen. I thought you were supposed to be one of the smart ones?”
Damian crossed his arms and clicked his tongue, “I am smart. I just didn’t take you for a cook that’s all.”
Jason shrugged, “You learn something new every day. What did you think I was going to do? Alfred doesn’t keep frozen foods. Every time I asked he’d always say-”
“Young Master, if you’re going to insist on running around after dark putting yourself in danger I will insist that you eat well enough to do it.”
Both Damian and Jason repeated their butler’s words in tandem. Jason laughed and Damian tried to keep his face from reddening again.
“So you’ve heard it too?” Jason grinned, “I didn’t take you for a frozen dinner fan.”
“I’m not,” Damian moved over to the counter to pick up a bell pepper Jason had pulled out.
“Then how come you’ve heard the spiel?”
“I like sweets,” Damian shrugged, before eyeing the bell pepper warily, “What about leftovers, can’t we just have those?”
Jason rolled his eyes, "Has Alfred ever served you leftovers? The only ones I ever had were part of the 3am after patrol sandwiches. Nope, we're going to have to cook from scratch."
Damian set the pepper aside and frowned, "We?" It wasn’t a petulant or proud question, instead it was sincere, which surprised Jason.
He shrugged, “Yeah, if you want.”
There was a wrinkle that Damian got when he was worried, it was a little crease at the top of his forehead that took time to notice. Once he’d found it Jason always knew when the kid was worried, and today the thought of cooking seemed to worry him.
He leaned back against the counter and grinned, “I should have known the prince wouldn't know how to cook.”
The wrinkle disappeared replaced by Damian’s defensive blank face, “I would if Mother had ever let me learn.”
That wasn’t surprising. Jason knew the kid had been taught skills almost solely on the precedence of how it would help him rule the world. With all that it was no wonder he hadn’t had time to pick up the culinary arts.
“That makes sense, but why didn’t you start learning when you came here? You’re supposed to be the best at everything right?” Jason couldn’t help it, he loved needling the kid. Damian’s temper and biting words were refreshing in a house filled with people like Dick and Tim.
He didn’t seem to take the bait this time, instead shrugging, “Here we have Pennyworth. Seeing as he's more than an adequate cook I never found the need to learn.”
Jason shook his head, “Adequate or not, you'll have to learn some day. Grab an apron and I'll teach you something today- you like chicken right?”
“Don't be an idiot, Todd. I'm a vegetarian, remember?”
The bravado was an effort to stay mad, but Jason was sure he’d broken through something with his offer to teach Damian. Maybe the kid liked learning, but Jason was sure it was because no one had ever offered to teach him anything.
Everything in his life had been implied. He was expected to learn, expected to be the best, and expected not to question what he was being taught. Sure he’d thrown that all away when he’d come to stay with Bruce, but there were feelings associated with it that couldn’t be shaken by a change of scenery. Jason knew that better than anyone. His time adjusting when Bruce took him in had taught him that much.
He turned back to the freezer and pulled out a smaller portion of the chicken he’d been intending on cooking, “Well, we'll just have to cook some extra veggies then. Did you grab that apron yet?”
“You’re not wearing one.”
“That’s because I know what I’m doing. Alfred keeps extras in the bottom drawer below the sink,” he pointed behind him in the direction of said drawer before unwrapping the chicken. The sound of the drawer opening then closing made him smile, “Grab a pan from over there while you’re at it,” he added.
He lost himself for a moment in dressing the chicken before a frustrated groan came from behind him followed by, “There have to be a hundred different types in here, Todd. Explain which one is a pan or have them all thrown at your head.”
Jason had to resist the urge to laugh, it was going to be a long day.
And it was. So far Damian had asked to cut the vegetables with his swords- “It’s more efficient, Todd, their sharper than Pennyworth’s knives,”- Over-salted the first batch of veggies-“You said salt is the most important ingredient,”- and burned the chicken-“I don’t understand why you’re mad, higher heat should have made things cook faster.”
After the entire first attempt at dinner ended up being fed to Damian’s pets Jason suggested they order pizza. Damian relented but crossed his arms and sulked while Jason put in an order for one vegetarian pizza and one all meat.
“Don’t give me that look. I still intend to teach you something today,” Jason said after he hung up.
“What, underwater basket weaving?” Damian grumbled.
Jason raised an eyebrow, “You can reference that but not cook?” he shook his head, “No, we’re going to try baking cookies. Those should be easy enough. I’ll set the oven if you get the mixer from the cabinet above the coffee pot.”
Damian complied and soon he was running around the kitchen collecting whatever supplies Jason requested. At one point Jason started listing off random ingredients just to see Damian’s reaction. The first few, Swiss cheese and grapes didn’t seem to faze the kid but when he asked Damian to grab an onion the boy paused.
“I don’t see why we-” he stopped and glared at Jason, “Very funny, Todd. I assume we have everything we need?”
“It’s just payback for burning dinner, kid,” Jason chuckled.
Damian had an easier time following Jason’s instructions this time. He seemed to enjoy the exactness of baking cookies, unlike the haphazard way Jason had instructed him with dinner. Instead of add some salt it was drop in a stick of butter. And instead of, a handful of chopped carrots it was add exactly one cup of sugar.
“How did you learn to cook?” Damian asked as he carefully poured the flower into the mixer while Jason stirred the edges with a spatula.
“I taught myself while I was taking care of my mom. Had to if we were going to make it.”
Damian was silent for a moment, probably running through his knowledge of Jason’s past. He mentally prepared himself for some kind of barb or one of Damian’s careless deconstructions of his past.
“That must have been hard.”
That threw Jason for a loop. Damian’s habit of pulling up the past as an attack had left Jason unprepared for a sincere response from the kid.
Damian scowled, “Don’t look at me like that. I was only trying to make conversation.”
He finished with the flower bowl and set it aside to examine the dough that had formed. After mixing in chocolate chips Jason scooped out a little with the spatula and tasted it. Sweet, floury, and smooth with a hint of chocolatey goodness, or as he liked to call it- perfect.
When he went to dip the spatula back in a hand shot out and snatched it, “That’s disgusting, Todd. Grab a clean spoon or something.”
Jason laughed and did as he was told, in fact he grabbed two spoons, “I didn’t know you were such a germaphobe.”
“I might not know how to cook, but I do know proper manners.”
Jason laughed again and gestured to the bowl, “Try some. You’ll see why I wanted to double dip.”
Damian pulled a face, “I can’t eat that. It’s raw.”
Jason’s eyes widened, “Don’t tell me you’ve never eaten cookie dough before. Damian, that’s like a staple of childhood,” he scooped a heap of the dough out of the bowl with one of the spoons and handed it to Damian, “You have to eat some.”
Damian took the spoon and eyed its contents with the look of someone preparing for an attack.
“Just try it, kid.” Jason sighed, then got an idea, “Or are you too scared?”
The challenge spurned Damian into action and in one swift motion he stuck the spoon in his mouth. The change that went over his face was something Jason was sure he’d never forget.
Irritation turned to confusion which turned to awe and delight. Damian’s eyes lit up like the sun breaking over the horizon and he didn’t seem to know how to react once he’d finished. He set the spoon aside and regarded the bowl for a moment.
“How does anyone actually make it to cooking these?” he asked and Jason knew he’d won the battle for the day.
“Because, you can get sick off of eating too much of this. Help me scoop some onto the baking trays and I’ll let you lick the bowl.”