So, um...people still here? Good, good. I know I took my sweet time for a chapter that is neither long nor as good as the others. Okay, probably better than chapter two, but we will never speak of chapter two. Anyway, here it is, in all it's short, mediocre glory.

"Hey, champ." Jason groaned so as to show he was still awake.

He felt way too exhausted; a failure of a date and a hard night of patrolling the streets could do that, apparently. Slowly, Jason lifted his head from the metal table. To his dismay, some of his hair had fallen victim to the mayo of his sandwich. Guess sleeping in front of his traitorous food was a bad idea after all.

Kyle sat down across from him, an apple at the ready. Jason had sworn to himself that he would kill her; she had completely forgotten to mention one little thing about Laurel, and it cost Jason his time and dignity.

"Well? How'd it go?" She asked glared at his plastic fork, trying to find a way that it could... slip out of his hand and impale her throat.

"How do you think it went?" He asked irritably. "Girl's a completely airhead!"

"Could've told you that." A second voice said. Jason looked up again to see the great, lumbering blond who'd made it his life goal to accidentally hit him with whatever was at hand.

Jason guessed that he was there to pick another fight, but Kyle's face told him otherwise.

"Sit down. You're blocking my sun." He did, and it sort of reminded Jason of a dog. Despite the somewhat funny image, the idiot decided to sit next to him.

"Mark, Jason. Jason, Mark." Kyle gestured, looking completely indifferent.

"Yes, I know." Jason grumbled. "He punched me. With a ball."

"It was my fist first." Mark corrected.

"Wow." Kyle said monotonously. "Anyway, what did Laurel do?"

"Kyle, we've been over this. Laurel's your typical cheerleader." Mark said and started digging into his food.

"How do you know?"

Kyle reached over the table and cleaned the mayo out of Jason's hair with a napkin before she answered,

"They used to go out together. Didn't last that long."

"And you didn't tell me."

"Excuse me?" She said indignantly. "I didn't realize that you asked for a list of all her exes!"

"Not all of them. Just this guy."

"What did poor, brainless Mark ever do to you?"

"Hey!"

"He got me an all new detention!"

"I got detention too!"

Kyle watched the exchange with an expression Jason didn't understand. Her lips were puckered, her eyes were wide and her eyebrows had basically become two squiggly lines.

"Guys..."

"If it wasn't for your stupid crossbow...!"

"I told you it was an accident!"

"Guys!"

"What?!" They both turned to her and Mark- or was it Jason?- threw the mayo sandwhich at her. Apparently there was way too much mayo in that thing, because by the time they realized what had happened, she was white from head to toe. Except her cheeks. Those were redder than hot iron.

Kyle took in a deep breath, closed her eyes and then released it slowly. When she opened her eyes again, there was an insane glint in them.

And Jason knew, he'd done fucked up.

For all his training and all the fights he'd been in, he didn't see that damn apple coming. It hit him square in the forehead, almost knocking him off the bench. Mark sucked air in before snorting in a failed attempt to hide his laughter, when more food was flung in his general direction. To his defense, he moved really fast for a huge guy; the mutilated bit of food hit a girl in the back, staining her shirt with red sauce. She jumped off the bench and screamed while inspecting the damage.

Soon enough, the entire courtyard was a chaos of complex insults, battle cries and disgusting cafeteria grub being thrown all around. His uniform was beyond salvation, he realized. Now either Alfred would slave over it in the middle of the night, or he'd have to get a new one. Either way, it annoyed him.

Kyle, probably realizing the hell she'd raised, had disappeared. Or she had been died in combat, Jason didn't really know. Mark had managed to hide under the table- how the hell did he even fit under there?!

Before Jason knew it, he was being pulled under the table. Of course, the floor was already filled with all sorts of sauces and toppings, and the underside of the table was full of fossilized chewing gums.

"I'm gonna kill her." Mark said suddenly. When Jason looked over at him, he realized he looked like a wet cat. A giganting, fuming wet cat. He was barring his teeth and nearly every muscle in his face was stretched and twitching.

If it wasn't for his predicament, Jason would have laughed.

It was only five teachers doused in juice and sandwich bits later that the food fight was over. Admittedly, Jason was relieved; waiting for the war to be over under a table with a guy twice his size was anxiety-inducing. And thanks to said fact, the principal didn't even think these two were the root of the civil war.

Eventually, while the still clean teachers handed out towels and detentions- they enjoyed that moment more than anything, it seemed- Kyle turned up. She had cleaned up all the mayo, but her book was ruined and she seemed really pissed about it. It was in her best interest not to bitch to them about it and, thank God, she didn't. Mark would've probably murdered her then and there, and Jason would have helped.

"Is that a tomato in your pocket?" Kyle asked suddenly, wrinkling her nose. "'Cause there's red stuff all over your-"

Jason yanking the crashed tomato out of his pocket, inwardly cursing her.

"You're gonna pay for the uniforms, you know." Mark commented, pretending to be indifferent.

"Yeah, and scrub the cafeteria floors, it seems." She shrugged. "Some freshman ratted me out." Her eyes shone with mischief. "And I don't like snitches."