He finds her in their shared kitchen, sat atop a stool and cursing at her laptop screen as she scribbles furiously on the pad she has on the island and he can't help but chuckle at the sight of her.

She's in her PJs, fluffy white bootie slippers on her feet and hair piled on top of her head in something of a messy bun. Adorable. But his amusement doesn't last for long when she, quite suddenly, slams her pen down against the pad of paper and drops her head into her hands.

"Everything okay?"

She startles in her seat, turning to face him with bloodshot eyes and an expression that reads pure exhaustion. She sighs heavily and he awaits her usual ire but instead is left surprised when she replies with a weary, "No."

He moves further into the kitchen, pushing his desire for food to the back of his mind as he rounds the counter so that he stands opposite her. His eyes fall to the pad, able to make out the scribbled sums there and asks, "Anything I can help with?" and when she looks as though she's about to reject his offer, he adds, "I'm not too bad with math. I'm not Stephen Hawking by any means but I get by…"

Dark eyes register surprise first and then, thankfully, a little spark of hope appears as she frowns and asks, "You'd help me?"

"Of course," Robin replies without hesitation.

"But I'm awful to you."

"Not in the slightest," he shakes his head as he returns to her side of the counter and pulls up a stool beside her, "besides," he shrugs, "I rather like your fiery side." And before she can even think to reply, he encourages, "Now, let's get this solved shall we?"

Her answering smile, no matter how small, makes it more than worth it.