{AN: This is 4/5, but I don't wanna rush the chapters too much so I'm gonna take my time. I start work again over the weekend, so I'll post at most like A chapter over the weekend, then more starting Monday. Have a good weekend peeps!}
Jaime adjusted his bag on his shoulder, glancing sideways at Milagro, who was already squinting up at one of the upper balconies. "You think the headmaster's a vampire?"
"If she doesn't sparkle, I'm not interested," Milagro shot back.
Jaime took a seat near the back of a lecture hall filled with students who all looked like they already had internships at LexCorp. A kid in a blazer two sizes too small leaned over. "You're the new one, right? El Paso?"
"Guilty," Jaime said.
"I'm Donovan. If you need notes, or directions, or want to know which bathrooms don't have ghost rumors, let me know."
Jaime blinked. "Wait. Did you say ghost rumors?"
"Yeah. East Wing third floor. Don't ask. Just… don't go alone."
The class began with little fanfare. Jaime focused as best he could, but Khaji Da buzzed quietly in his head.
[INFORMATION REQUEST: The textbook used here references quantum entanglement incorrectly. Would you like me to correct it in your notes?]
"Yeah," Jaime whispered. "Keep it subtle."
Meanwhile, Milagro had already declared war.
"Do you always talk like a Gotham Times article, or is this your first time around a girl with personality?" she snapped at a smug redhead who'd been trying to impress the class with his 'editorial writing style.'
Some students snickered. The teacher cleared her throat. "Miss Reyes, while your wit is appreciated, let's try to foster discussion, not decapitation."
Milagro offered a smile so sweet it practically rotted teeth. "Of course, ma'am."
Still, a few other students gave her nods of approval. One girl leaned over and whispered, "I thought I was gonna have to sit through another hour of that guy's monologue. You're my new hero."
Milagro grinned. "Stick with me, I bite."
Jaime found a quiet table near the edge of the rooftop garden, hoping for some peace.
Instead, he got Milagro.
"Gotham Academy isn't so bad," she said, plopping down with a tray full of fries and... was that squid ink pasta? "I verbally body-slammed a future politician. Feels like a win."
"You make friends?"
"Accomplices," she corrected. "You?"
"A nerd who talks ghosts and quantum physics. And a lecture on how not to blow up the chemistry lab."
Milagro raised an eyebrow. "You already blow something up?"
"No," Jaime said defensively. "...Yet."
She laughed and flicked a fry at him. "We're gonna survive this, huh?"
Jaime looked around at the towering walls, the students with secrets behind their eyes, the city that loomed beyond it all.
"Yeah," he said softly. "We'll make it work."
The sun dipped low behind the Academy's tallest spire as the final bell rang. Jaime and Milagro met by the front gates, both looking slightly shell-shocked.
Milagro stretched her arms dramatically. "I survived five hours of elitist sarcasm and one cafeteria pizza that might've been alive. You?"
"I learned that quantum mechanics is somehow less confusing when Khaji Da narrates it."
[CORRECT. YOUR HUMAN CURRICULUM IS… FRAGILE. I WILL REWRITE IT IF NECESSARY.]
"Please don't," Jaime muttered.
They walked together down the cobblestone path toward the waiting Wayne car.
"You think we'll get used to this?" Milagro asked.
Jaime glanced back at the school. "Eventually. But I don't think it's gonna be boring."
Milagro smirked. "Good. I hate boring."
Later that night
The moonlight filtered through tall windows, casting long silver streaks across Jaime's desk. Half a dozen sketch pages were spread out, some pinned down with textbooks, others half-crumpled with scribbled edits in the margins.
Jaime sat hunched forward, stylus in hand, tapping his tablet screen with focused determination.
"…Okay," he muttered. "So Pete swings into the fight, webs the glider, snarks midair, and—Khaji, give me a percentage on plausibility for him catching that in one swing."
[Based on your established physics: 12.7%. However, if Peter uses a double pendulum flip—]
"—It'll look cooler, yeah, yeah, I know," Jaime said with a grin. "Remind me to give you a writing credit later."
[Unnecessary. I am your co-writer and best friend, not a legal entity.]
"Still think you deserve one."
At that moment, the door creaked open and Milagro peeked in. She wore pajama shorts, an oversized Gotham Academy hoodie, and the suspicious look of someone who smelled snacks but found none.
"You still Spider-Manning?" she asked, walking in and flopping face-first onto his bed without waiting for an answer.
Jaime looked back at her, smirking. "What gave it away? The furious typing or the sound of me arguing with my sentient alien editor?"
"Both," she said into his blanket. Then lifted her head and blinked at him. "Got anything new to read?"
Jaime's smirk widened. "Actually… yes."
He grabbed a printed proof from his desk, the corner still warm from the printer. "Issue three. Early version. Hot off the press. Be gentle."
Milagro took the pages and sat up, cross-legged on the bed. "I'm never gentle."
He waited in silence as she read, watching her eyebrows rise, then furrow, then her lips twitch into a smirk.
"That new villain? The one with the acid spit and laser teeth?" she asked, eyes still on the page.
"Yeah?" Jaime asked, bouncing slightly in his chair.
"He's gross. I love him. Very punchable. Very marketable."
"Yes!" Jaime fist-pumped.
"But also," she added, flipping to the last page. "You gotta fix this dialogue. Pete sounds like he swallowed a thesaurus here. Like, 'recalibrate the neuro-webbing architecture'?" She looked up at him flatly. "He's a nerd, not a NASA engineer."
Jaime groaned. "I knew it! I was channeling too much Khaji!"
[I DO NOT SPEAK LIKE THAT.]
"Buddy, you are a neuro-webbing architecture," Jaime teased.
Milagro tossed a pillow at him. "Still, it's good. Better than the comics I used to sneak in class. You've got real voice here. Like... if Spider-Man existed in this world, this would be him."
Jaime blinked, a little taken aback. "Wait, was that an actual compliment from you?"
She rolled her eyes. "I said he was gross. Don't get cocky."
Then she smiled.
Jaime smiled back and turned back to his tablet, stylus ready again.
"Alright. Round two. Let's make Peter sound like less of a lab report and more like someone who stress-eats churros."
"I'll get the popcorn," Milagro said, flopping backward with the pages still in hand. "You get the punching and web-swinging."
"Deal."
And just like that, the quiet of Gotham night was filled with the scratch of stylus on screen, the turning of comic pages, and the occasional snarky comment from a younger sister who just happened to be the best editor he could've asked for.