When Michael had gone into the kitchen for something warm to drink, he'd had to stand in the door and marvel at the complete wreck that was the compound kitchen. There was flour on most of the counter surfaces and there were many bowls filled with questionable substances scattered amid other ingredients and a young blond girl in pigtails sitting on
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"Mm, good job, Cass. We may have to keep you around," he teased, braced to make sure the slap or punch he was expected wasn't going to land on already bruised ribs.
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But he left the dough alone after putting the contaminated spoon with the rest of the dishes. "So, we're making cookies. We should figure out something to make for Bob so he doesn't feel all left out."
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[Michael please? For the meeting of Guy's boys. If it wasn't obvious.]
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"Hey, Michael. Hey Cassie." All innocent smiles and wide green eyes. "Whatcha doin?"
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He goes in search of Cassie, who he'd promised to do Christmas-y things with, and finds her in the kitchen making cookies with a guy he hasn't met yet. Cute guy, but Cassie's there, and Dick's feeling more like family than flirting.
Sneaking up Bat-style on his favorite blonde, Dick looms behind her, arms crossed over his chest. "Hm." It's softer than Bruce's 'Hn," because Dick is.
[Cassie or both, up to you if you want to do the comic book geekout or not. I'll be slooooooow. He's not in uniform, despite the icon.]
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At the sound of his name, Michael looked over and nodded to Dick before going back to work.
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