"I can't guarantee a sanity check, but I'll try my best," Robin tells Ishiah with warm amusement. It's true enough. If you were looking for sanity, a puck was a poor place to begin. But Robin knows his own strengths and he knows where Ishiah is coming from. Reaching out, he gives him a fond pat on the cheek, brushing his fingertips along the length of the pale scar that runs from Ishiah's chin to his brow.

"Shrimp scampi," Robin decides. "Over linguini. Simple, fast, and then we can have one another's full attention, for a little while. Do you want to tell me what little goblin your mind has been exercising all day, or should I start guessing?" The curl of Robin's mouth suggests that he doesn't mind guessing.