"So…" drawls Eddie, leaning forward in his seat, tie sliding dangerously close to the candle flickering between them. "What do you think?"

Batman sits, frowning, silent, fork and knife poised above the crustacean he's barely started to nibble. "I'm sorry," he says at last, in a gruff sort of tone that suggests he really isn't sorry at all.

The Riddler's eyes widen. His lips part, aghast, approaching embarrassment and shame that given a few seconds will shift into denial.

Bruce chuckles and spares him the trouble. "I should have let you cook for me before now. Not bad."