Cassandra Cain!

"Well, well, well. This is quite the dramatic entrance." Aaron couldn't help the goofy smile on his face as Orphan–Cassandra Cain–climbed inside. He admired her badass costume before adding, "Although I prefer you use the door. That almost scared me."

Cassandra removed her hood and grinned. "No promises."

"So what brings you here? Hopefully nothing serious. I saw the broadcast on Leviathan. Is it that?"

He saw a flicker of emotions in her eyes. Cassandra shook her head and pursed lips shut.

"Understood." She didn't want to talk about it. She did look worn out, her hoodie stretched as if it had been grabbed in a tussle. An idea popped into his head. "Do you have any spare clothes?"

Cassandra tilted her head and nodded.

"Really? Doesn't it get hot with the suit?" he asked.

Cassandra shook her head left and right.

"Alright. Let's get dinner then. Nothing fancy, just some food."

Again, she tilted her head, silently asking, "What's the occasion?"

"I got a fat paycheck from work and I was like, 'Hey, I should spend it!'"

Her eyes snapped up with sparkles and anticipation. Cassandra stood on the balls of her feet as if chanting, "Food, food, food!"

Underneath her suit was a purple undershirt cut above her navel and sweatpants, hardly fit for outdoor wear. Much to Aaron's chagrin, nothing in his closet fit Cassandra. He was three sizes too big and she looked ridiculous wearing his shirts and pants. While Cassandra said she would be fine, her words of comfort fell on deaf ears. There was no way he was letting her walk around like that when the winter chill was lingering. Eventually, he found something, an old navy blue hoodie from his freshman year of high school. It was worn out and a loose fit but it did its job.

The blue sleeves went past her wrist and she lifted it to her nose. He waited for her to say something. He held out a winter jacket, awkwardly standing as she closed her eyes and took in the hoodie's scent.

"Er…"

"Smells nice." Cassandra didn't elaborate as she grabbed the winter jacket, put it on, and skipped out the door. Aaron stared at her retreating back, not sure whether to be embarrassed that he hadn't washed it or be pleased that she liked it.

Stepping outside, Aaron was correct to make Cassandra wear a hoodie underneath a jacket. It was cold, the December chill settling and making them breath out wisps of clouds. Aaron rubbed his hands together, thinking he should have brought gloves.

Cassandra poked his shoulder. "Snow." She pointed at the sky.

Aaron glanced up. Somehow, he had missed the greyness of the clouds and, as Cassandra had claimed, the tiny flecks of white. Snow. It was snowing.

"Guess we should hurry," Aaron said, feeling a subtle weight on his head.

Bamonte's Restaurant was lit up like a fireplace from the outside, its name written out in fancy cursive. A mere glance spoke volumes on its luxurious nature. The bell chimed as they came through and they received a few glances. Aaron and Cassandra weren't exactly the types of customers who came in, after all.

Luckily, it was mostly empty and they could reserve a table without an issue. The round white tables and the rose in the bottle completed the image of a high-class, lavish restaurant. Aaron wasn't accustomed to the dark lighting and the fashionable men and women talking poshly. Cassandra wasn't either.

"Nice place, huh," Aaron muttered. Cassandra bit the bottom of her lip, eyes flickering everywhere, scanning. "Hope the food is good, at least."

It was. Aaron and Cassandra were pleasantly surprised by that fact. They ordered a full course dinner consisting of beef and steak and dessert, and it all tasted phenomenal.

In lieu of the comforting environment, Cassandra spoke out and commented, "Almost as good as yours."

"Almost? More like way better," he joked.

The pair didn't stick around too long. Aaron gave a large tip to the waiter, paid the bill, and left with Cassandra in tow. It was still snowing and the young woman spun amongst the falling specks of white with a smile. Aaron shoved his hands in his pocket, smiling and enjoying himself. His mind seemed free and open. There was a small layer of snow on the ground beneath them and their shoes crunched lightly. He didn't want to think about how wet his shoes would be. Aaron decided it was time to go home.

"Alright, recess is over." He clapped his hands together, gaining her attention. "Back to the apartment. It's getting too cold."

Cassandra pouted. She appeared in front of him, hands clasped together, and begged him for another ten minutes in the snow. Aaron put on a mask of faux consideration and put a finger on his chin.

"Well…I suppose if you want the both of us to get the flu, then I guess it's fine."

She pouted again, lips bunched up. She gleaned at the snow, then herself, then him. She sighed and nodded. Aaron chuckled and held out a hand. Like a child, she accepted and he practically had to drag her home. She couldn't argue against his point but she also didn't want to concede so easily. That was the thing about Cassandra: she was unexpectedly stubborn.

Aaron nearly let out a sigh as he stepped into the comfortable warmth of his home. The heater was at full capacity and the disparity between hot and cold made his skin tingle. Cassandra took off her jacket, dejected.

"Come on," Aaron said, gesturing her forward. "We'll find something better to do inside."

Cassandra didn't seem all that convinced. She sat down on his sofa with that same depressed look. Aaron sat next to her and attempted to cheer her up but her body language completely shut him out.

'All because I didn't let her play in the snow.' Aaron wanted to laugh and sigh. It was ridiculous. It was Cassandra.

"Alright." Aaron smiled and threw his arms up in the air. "You win. We'll do whatever you ask this time."

"Anything?" Cassandra muttered, shifting.

"Anything."

He thought he could anticipate her request. Cassandra wasn't a materialistic person and her life revolved around two things: food and training. As a result, he narrowed her options down to a hot meditative shower and rice krispies. If she was bold, maybe a fruit roll-up.