In the Batcave, Tim, returning from his night patrol, was so sleepy his eyelids kept drooping.
Behind him, Bruce, having changed out of his Batman suit, also looked relaxed.
Tim subconsciously reached for his coffee cup on the Bat-computer console.
It wasn't until he brought the rim of the cup to his lips and took a big gulp that Tim realized, belatedly, that the liquid inside was milk.
Alfred must have swapped it when he wasn't looking, and he hadn't noticed the entire ti.
The cup was right under his nose; had he been so tired he'd fallen asleep for a few seconds?
The old butler appeared out of nowhere behind Tim, watching his fingers as he tried to put the cup back, a hint of disapproval in his voice.
"Is this batch of milk not to your liking, Master Tim? I can replace it with peanut dew for you."
As soon as the words fell, Tim visibly noticed that Bruce's expression had beco even more solemn than before.
Tim: "..."
Batman: "..."
Enough! Leave the peanuts alone; they've made too many appearances tonight!
Tim let out two dry laughs: "How amazing, I've never had peanut dew at ho before."
The old butler nodded calmly.
"Of course, you never expressed a preference for it before. I only temporarily purchased a box after hearing about Master Theodore's taste."
The old butler mused, "The taste is indeed good. It can be paired with bread for breakfast in the future."
Don't add fuel to the fire, Alfred.
Look at Batman behind you.
If this continues, rule 426 of the manual will beco "All peanut products are forbidden in the Batcave!"
Tim decisively ended the dangerous topic, gulping down the entire glass of milk.
He obediently showed the bottom of the cup to the butler: "I'm going to bed."
A truly clever Robin knows how to abandon the ss in front of him.
Tim quietly ran upstairs.
Behind him, Bruce still wanted to check so more information on the Bat-computer, but the butler pressed him: "It's already three-thirty. Are you going to sleep now, or would you like a cup of peanut dew before bed?"
How terrifying, Butler-man.
Once Alfred uses this polite, either-or tone, it ans his command cannot be defied.
Batman: "...I'm going to sleep too."
Even Batman doesn't want to drink peanut dew!
That being said, sleeping obediently was out of the question.
Tim always had a harmless little quirk—when it ca to tasks, he was a bit obsessive-compulsive.
Once he took on a task, giving up halfway was impossible, and doing it perfunctorily was absolutely out of the question. Making Tim slack off was harder than killing him.
Even in school group projects, he was the kind of god-tier leader who carried five others.
Fortunately, Tim was born into a wealthy family; otherwise, he would have beco the boss's favorite chosen worker to exploit.
Although, becoming Batman's chosen Robin now doesn't seem much different.
Now, Tim lay supine on his large bed, the soft down mattress sinking significantly under his weight.
The silky, creamy-white sheets looked like a pool of cream, and Tim, nestled in the duvet, was like a small red bird trapped in a pile of cheese.
He lay with his eyes open in the pitch-black room, replaying the day's events, his obsessive-compulsive disorder automatically kicking in.
Tim couldn't help but keep thinking about Theodore.
Theodore's behavior today seed to be without issue:
He was new and approached Wayne Manor with a cautious, tentative attitude.
When Tim explained his brothers' situations, Theodore accepted it without any qualms.
The orphanage environnt made Theodore skilled at reading people; he proactively cooked, making his signature peanut butter soup for his new family mbers.
Each point, taken individually, was normal.
But when put together, Tim always felt sothing was off.
Out of Robin's intuition, Tim always felt as if Theodore was veiled by a fog, making it difficult to discern his true thoughts.
At least that pancake, which left everyone's mouths tasting of peanuts, Theodore absolutely did it on purpose.
What good person adds a lethal amount of peanut butter when frying maple syrup pancakes?!
Oh, thinking of that drug dealer who nearly died, that peanut butter was truly a "lethal dose" in a double sense.
Tim was amused by this dark joke, raising the corners of his mouth before quickly flattening them again.
He felt he couldn't conclude Theodore intentionally wanted to cause an allergic reaction just because of tonight's incident.
After all, first-ti poisoners usually act stealthily, not as overtly as Theodore.
Moreover, if soone in the family were allergic to peanut butter, it would never be found within reach in the kitchen—that's the simplest deduction.
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