Artemis spends the aftermath of the dance sobbing in Dick Grayson's closet, while Babs and Bette attempt to console her.
They fail.
Dick himself waits till they're all asleep. Then he drapes a blanket over then, tucking pillows under their heads.
Tiptoeing quietly through the hall ways, he makes the first three mugs of hot chocolate before he notices Alfred observing his endeavors.
"Master Richard, may I inquire of you as to what you insist on doing in the kitchen at this hour?"
He shrugs casually, hoping but knowing he wouldn't be able to throw the loyal butler off.
"The girls are..." He trails off. How do you finish that kind of sentence?
"Yes, I am aware. That still does not explain why you are here."
"Um... Hot chocolate? It's not for me, I swear."
Alfred raised an eyebrow, sighing exasperatedly.
"Very well, Master Richard, if you insist."
The young man grinned triumphantly, proceeding to bring the hot chocolate to the aforementioned closet.
It was so worth seeing their faces.