#Jason made a terrible mistake looking in Tim's puppy eyes

[mocking-the-bird]

Jason: No, I don't care if no one can look after Replacemet except me. Just drop him near some dumpster, he'll be alright.

Jason 3 seconds later: Welp, I guess this is my kid now. Batman can find himself another, he's quite talented in this.

[satyricplotter]

(jason thoughts continued) like there's an undeniable joy in the grittiness you can find in pairings with dick or babs or cass or tim or steph or the like. there's emotional and plot complexity there. you can spend years in-story navigating how to pair them with someone with different morals and values (bc who can truly live up to their standards...) and how attraction might predate respect or vice versa and the heroes finding themselves less or more committed to their own missions and ideals over time and how that would play out in a relationship - but god forbid i make eye contact with jason while playing with these dolls bc he's always waiting to emerge from the shadows and just one shot kill the metaphorical or literal antagonists at hand like Is This Guy Bothering You Queen. oh dick wrestles with himself about falling for an mc with more vague and complex morals than he can accept bc he assumes responsibility for the choices of everyone around him and OH SHIT IT'S JASON TODD WITH THE STEEL CHAIR. HE JUST DESTROYED YOUR ENEMIES. not even bc he's in love necessarily he's just a guy who sees a problem and fixes it (as most of them are, in fairness, it's just that jason isn't likely to be tortured about it if he needs to get murderous to solve the problem). and that makes him both very alluring and very frustrating bc he destroys the plot tension just by being who he is. and then he's so boyfriend shaped i can't even imagine an mc who wouldn't follow him around like a puppy badgering him into a relationship afterwards. terrible man. i love him so

hehehe not jason with the steel chair jfksdfjs why would he absolutely actually physically pull that move. oh i hate him. i hate that he's actually funny and fun. man.

i like the versatility of this cast, it's pretty fun to work with. you are right that the vast majority of them are so stupidly complicated though. again im angstlover420 so im happy about it but i totally get your point. these sorts of fics kinda live and die by the dynamics they present (bc that's the point, really, otherwise we'd be doing an in depth character study in the second person) and the characters being what they are, there's always a certain like... brand of relationship they're gonna get into.one you can subvert, of course, but you know. everyone's going to make things difficult in their own way every time. (im glad for this myself, i don't really care for the fluffy-yet-impersonal hitting-the-relationship-beats kinda deal even though i understand the appeal.)

jason is an interesting foil for the rest of his family. he is a look into their mistakes, for some the ones they've already made and others the ones they could make. but he is also very similar to them. he has the same drive, the same nobility, the same integrity. when they find themselves in him, that also hurts, i think. so it's interesting to sort of measure out what types of relationships they have versus the ones he has bc as you said they can be vastly different.

he appeals also to a different type of person. to me he has always been a much more approachable dude despite all of his hangups and difficulties. i think what separates him from them is what makes him so accessible. it's easier to be with someone who has also failed. it gets you on the same level. a while ago i posted about how it's easier to accept jason's help than it is to accept dick's, and it's got something to do with that to me. i think that's what makes him better at relationships too. it's easier to fail around him. he considers that a natural part of being and it's not a healthy outlook that prompts him to think that but it does work out in his favor lol

you're so right that he's so disarming in a way the others aren't bc he's so simple about some things. or at least unwilling to let his ruminations get in the way of his actions. say what you will about the morals--and you have to address them at some point--the man is efficient and motivated. he's never passive, which makes him an engaging character, and he's miscommunication #1's enemy so long as you're willing to parse out what he means so like. what's not to like?

also "oh dick wrestles with himself about falling for an mc with more vague and complex morals than he can accept bc he assumes responsibility for the choices of everyone around him" can someone get this man a frappuccino

[fidothefinch]

In the Library

For Holy Server B@tman prompt: Reverse Robins AU Jason noticed the new kid the second he stepped across the library’s threshold. There was a large window, and though little Dickie was silent, he cast a shadow across Jason’s book as he passed. Rookie.

Jason turned a page nonchalantly, hoping that the kid would get bored and move on. He only half understood what his eyes were scanning as he mentally tracked Dick’s progress. Across the library. Up the shelves of the furthest case. Across the top shelf. It was the long pause that followed, Dick likely perched on the bookshelf directly behind Jason’s comfortable seat on the wingback chair, that finally made Jason nervous.

Without moving his head, he glanced at the chandelier twelve feet above. Sure, the kid was an acrobat, but he wouldn’t—

“Ha!”

It took all of Jason’s vigilante training not to jump at the sight of the feral child shooting across the ceiling. Dick had a wide grin on his face as he caught the chandelier like a pro (which he had been). The whole structure swung with his momentum, making the crystal chime.

When Jason’s heart had started to beat again, he snapped his book shut around one finger to hold his place. Pretense gone. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

Dick had maneuvered himself so he hung upside-down by his knees from the lowest ring. “Did I scare you?” he asked, batting his eyelashes. Not even a hint of shame.

“You’re lucky you didn’t bring the whole thing down.”

Dick shrugged. “I’ve done it before.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really?” He stretched out the second word, making his interest clear.

Dick paused mid-stretch and eyed Jason, like he suddenly realized he could be dealing with a narc. “What are you reading?” he asked instead.

Jason wasn’t falling for such terrible deflection. “You could hurt yourself, and I’m not going to get in trouble for letting you. Get down from there.”

Dick grinned, and Jason didn’t realize his mistake until he swung the chandelier, gaining momentum, and launched himself across the room again. Jason reflexively stood, like he could have caught him, but Dick flipped in the air once, twice, and landed in a roll. Jason just stared flatly as the kid stood tall, arms high, and gave a grand bow.

“I get it now,” Jason said. “You’re a show off.”

Dick stuck his tongue out at him. Jason hoped that would be the end of it, but Dick bounded up to him like a puppy, all lanky limbs and boundless energy. So much energy. Was Jason ever like this when he was Dick’s age? He understood now why Tim had avoided him at first.

“What are you reading?” the puppy-eyed boy asked.

“Shakespeare.”

“For school?”

“No.”

Dick gasped. “For fun?”

Jason glowered. “Shakespeare is a master of the written word. Look,” Jason thumbed the well-loved hardback open to a dogeared page. (It had been leftover from whoever last read from it. Damian, maybe. Jason would never.) He skimmed a few lines before he found what he was looking for. “To be or not to be, that is the question—”

Dick groaned theatrically. Everything he did was theatrical, Jason was beginning to suspect. “Sounds boring.”

“A man propelled to madness by his grief and his drive for revenge, boring?” Jason took his seat again. “I think Cass still has Dick and Jane in her room, if that’s more your speed.”

Dick scowled at him, but Jason pointedly stuck his nose back into his book.

“Fine,” Dick said. The seat next to Jason rocked as Dick invited himself in, legs kicked over the armrest.

“Your elbows are digging into my side,” Jason grumbled.

Dick adjusted and flopped all the way into Jason’s lap. He was giving Jason that grin again, the one he was beginning to associate with trouble.

He could just shove Dick into the floor. But Jason was mature. So he propped his elbows on Dick’s sternum to hold his book up.

Dick wisely didn’t complain.

After reading silently for a few minutes, a small voice asked, “Can. . . I mean, would you. . . .”

Jason understood. He cleared his throat in acknowledgement, and picked up right where he had left off.

As he began to read the verse out loud, Dick melted into his lap. Jason hadn’t realized how tense he had been. Maybe he should cut the kid some slack.

After he learned about Shakespeare.

[miss-choco-chips]

Teaching you, teaching me

Four times mother and son learned from and about each other, and one time Tim used his knowledge for evil good.

(Warning: Tim is older in some and younger in others, without order)

(For my babes @the-quiet-carrotcake and @animemangasoul who cheered me up when I was feeling bad, hope this makes you happy as well! 

Also, hon tagged me on a ‘five word prompt generator’ thing and I lost the post, so this is my contribution, five words that inspired each part)

Animal

When Jack died, it was sad but they were prepared. He’d been in a coma for two months by then, and Janet had practically been readying both herself and her son for the outcome. Tim had been sad, but it was more because of a possible future lost (he’d never given up the hope of his father changing one day, of Jack wanting to stay and being more present in his life), than genuine sorrow. Or so had the therapist told her.

Janet hadn’t felt bad, not really. Her relationship with her late husband had been cold long before his death, ruined by years of neglecting their son and being absent of their lives, but she suffered for her son, with his too big heart, who didn’t hesitate on wasting his tears on a father that never deserved them, the second she told him the news. 

Still, she held his hand through the entire funeral, surprised by the way he held his head on high. When he threw an arm over her shoulders to guide her away, after the service was over, she realized he was trying to be strong for her. The thirteen year old, heart breaking inside his small chest, was puffing it out to make himself seem bigger, more reliable, to comfort a mother that didn’t really need it.

Her beautiful, kind son.

Max’s death, a short two months after, was nothing like that.

The dog had been part of their household for nine, almost ten years now. Bought shortly after the circus tragedy, in a desperate attempt at soothing her son’s nightmares with the company of something fluffy and loveable, Max had grown up next to Tim, been there for any sad or happy moment, comforting him or sharing his joy by turns. The golden retriever had seem made specifically of love, giving all of it to the kid he’d been gifted to, and for that alone Janet had gone all out on his medical treatments, desperate to make him live as long as possible for a dog. 

Still, he was gone too soon, taking with him Tim’s smile and leaving ample space for tears. Tim had stayed by his side from the moment the veterinarian informed them of his chronic condition, to the tragic end of it, petting him softly and speaking in low, comforting tones.

Max’s last act before dying had been to lick Tim’s hand, the only thing he could reach from where he was lying on the dog bed, and wag his tail once. Even at death’s door, he’d showed Tim more love than his father ever had. Just for that, Janet would Max more than she did Jack.

It also baffled her, when Tim rejected her offer to bring home another dog a week after the small funeral they held in the backyard, softly closing the book on his lap to give her his full attention.

-You love getting new pets -she felt compelled to point out, because it felt like the obvious course of action.

-I do, but I also know why you are suggesting it now, and it won’t work. You can’t make me forget my sadness over losing Max by getting me a puppy, mom. 

-It’ll fill the void -she insists. Almost desperately. 

(She can’t stand to hear her child cry by himself at night, his despair breaking her heart worse than anything else ever could)

-It won’t -he says, shifting in the window seat he always choose when deep in thought or in a contemplative mood-. I loved Max, not because he was a dog, but because he was Max. Even if you buy me a hundred puppies, I’ll love them because they’d be them. It won’t make me forget my pain over Max’s death. 

She wanted to fight him on it, offer more, whatever it took to wipe the dim and far away look from his eyes, but he glanced up at her, so softly and fond, and she felt her tongue glueing itself to the top of her mouth. 

She thought, weirdly enough, of Wayne. Of how, when his first son went away, how he took another boy in. Despite loving Jason, he never stopped missing Dick. She thinks she understands, a little, where Tim was coming from.

(Tim would throw his book at her, if he knew she was comparing the Waynes to dogs, but, if the shoe fits…)

Demonstration

They say watching was the best form of learning, and Tim took it to heart. He analyzed people, going to work, hanging out with friends, buying groceries, fighting, laughing, crying… he saw, and he learned.

The one he watched the most was his mother, though.

How she smiled oh-so-politely at parties, how she ruthlessly destroyed the person speaking to her with short, well informed facts and dirty laundry. How she did both at the same time.

He went with her to DI, and took notice of the way her hips swayed with each step whenever she needed the room’s attention on her, or made her heels click extra hard against the porcelain floor when she wanted averted eyes.

She waved sweetly to her secretary, and frostily glared at the board member sitting three seats away from her.

She clenched her teeth during a phone call with someone she hated, but kept her voice perfectly smooth, warm even, as if speaking to an old friend.

He knew he would inherit the company one day. And, small as DI had been in the past, it had flourished under Janet Drake’s tender and constant care, blooming into the powerhouse it was today, on par with Wayne Enterprises. It was intimidating, to imagine all that power, all that responsibility, on his shoulders. 

Mother, Aunt Nicole, Uncle Lex, Uncle Bruce, Dick, Jay… they all said it, that Tim was too kind, too soft. He would give his hand to someone down without a thought, rather than see if they had a weapon first. Sweet, they called him, and made him blush, because he liked it. Liked that, to all that ruthless, sharp, for moments cruel people, he was a warm presence. A safe, comfortable place to lay worries to rest and smile. He liked being their sweet Timmy.

But he also despised it, because he was a gothamite, and this city ate sweet people whole for dessert, just after finishing with the foolish and naive ones that made for it’s lunch. There was no place for tender people, because that was the best kind to sink teeth into, and Gotham feeds on them. And he can’t die, because who is going to make sure mom and Nicole don’t go off the deep end? Who’s going to help Lex understand and bond with his son, with Conner? Who’s going to make sure the Waynes are getting along, when Alfred himself decides to leave them to their terrible life choices?

So he watches his mom, because she’s a prime example of someone not to be fucked with. Someone who is going to survive this wreck of a city until her drawn out, bitter end, and when that comes, she’ll go kicking and screaming and suing people to the ends of the earth. She doesn’t fear Gotham, and while sure as fuck Gotham doesn’t fear her either, it at least respects her. 

So he watches, and memorizes, and adapts behaviours and gestures into his own, tries to mimic the look in her eyes that send people flinching back and laughing nervously.

And, since he’s watching, he notices that she knows. How she’d look over her shoulder, straight into his eyes, as if saying ‘pay attention, I’m only showing you this once’ before she does something particularly tricky. Demonstrates her way of surviving, and lets him learn from it to make his own.

Tim, eleven years old, so tender and soft he’s like a warm, eatable bunny in everyone’s opinion, closes his eyes and breathes in, deeply. When he opens them, the icy blue of his gaze is enough to send the closest board member stumbling back and mumbling an apology (for what, who knows) before scurrying out of the room. 

Mom looks back to the rest of the board, but Tim knows (because he watches her all the time, he’s learned her to the smallest detail) that she’s smiling. 

She’s proud.

Galaxy

It’s late, and she feels sick and wants nothing more than to go to sleep. She’d basically lived at the office this last week, because of some stupid mistake Jack had made with the one piece of paperwork she needed him to sign (how he manages to screw up from all the way across the world, she can’t quite understand; it surely requires talent), and feels about ready to collapse on her bed.

But, because it’s been a while since she saw him, something in her gut tells her to go look for her son. Tim’s probably asleep right now, it’s almost four a.m, but if she’s silent enough, she could sneak a quick peek through the door, make sure he’s fine, and then go to bed completely unburdened.

Except, when she gets there, she’s treated to the sight of her son, her eight year old son, getting back into his room from God knows where by climbing through his window. Which, by the way, was located on the third floor.

Janet pressed a hand to her chest, as if to make sure her heart was still beating. It was, but the speed couldn't be normal.

Was this a heart attack? 

Hidden by the shadows on the hallway, she noticed how he removed his tiny sneakers, that she had completely forgot he even owned, and thrusted them under the bed. They were worn out, full of grim, obviously used often for activities like sneaking out at night and climbing the house. 

Yes, she was having a heart attack. And an aneurysm. Simultaneously.

The camera around his neck, she did remember. The one gift he had asked for his last birthday, the only thing he ever begged her for. She hadn’t understand his passion for owning one, but since he never had looked so earnest (and wanting to make up for Jack missing the day) she conceded.

Was it a mistake? Watching the little boy making himself comfortable in his bed, going through the photos in the camera with the most delighted expression ever, she felt like ‘fuck yes’ wasn’t a strong enough answer.

Her first impulse, to jump inside the room and demand answers, was squashed down almost as soon as it hitted her. If she did, Tim would clam up and deny everything. Instead, she breathed in deeply and tapped her knuckles against the doorframe.

Tim almost jumped straight out of his skin, looking at her like a thief caught red handed. It’d be almost funny, if her heartbeat wasn’t still off the charts.

-Timothy, it’s quite late. Why are you awake at this hour? And with your camera? -she made a show of scanning his clothing, as if she wasn’t aware of the jeans and hoodie- Why aren’t you on your pajamas?

She could almost hear him thinking, brilliant mind kicking into overdrive as her prodigious son searched for an answer that would satisfy his mother and keep him out of trouble. Shame no such answer existed.

-I… was outside, mama -he mumbled; calling her like that, amping up the cuteness, was almost overdoing it, but she supposed the situation called for big guns- Taking pictures of the sky. I-I know it’s dark, and polluted, but I heard today was going to be extra-starry, and I thought maybe I could photograph the stars for you?

He was good, she ought to give him that. But years too young to even try to lie to her.

-I see -she answers, calmly walking closer to him. Her face betrayed nothing, and she could see how that was getting into him by the way he was fondling with the camera, almost carelessly compared to his earlier reverent touch.

He flinched when she sat by his side.

-M-mom?

-Well? -an arched eyebrow- Aren’t you going to show me? You did something incredibly dangerous, climbing down your window- no, don’t even try to lie, I saw you climbing back in. Don’t think we won’t be talking about that in the morning. But you did something truly reckless, for those pictures for me. The least I can do is see them.

Quick, trembling hands fumbled a bit with the buttons. Janet was honestly surprised when he turned the camera around, showing actual sky pictures to her. She believed it a bluff. Maybe preventive measures, in case he got caught? She was sure he was lying, because even if they were sky pictures, it wasn’t a particularly nice view, all foggy and polluted Gotham landscape.

She also noticed (though pretended not to) how those angles weren't ones he could achieve from their backyard, which upped her panic levels a few notches. Her baby had been alone, at night, away from home, in this shithole of a city.

-What a pity -she says, instead, giving back the camera, despite her burning desire to search for older pictures to get an idea of her son’s true activities-, those look like the usual sky. I would have loved to see the stars. Well, not your fault, this place is just ugly. Maybe we should move to Metropolis, I’m sure there are stars there.

-Mom…!

-Hush, now, go to sleep. We are talking about sneaking out and bedtimes tomorrow, I’m too tired right now.

She could see his anxiety (at moving away? Why did he love this place so much?), but he must have realized he’d push his luck too far if he insisted, so he kissed her cheek and let her tuck him in. 

Despite her bone-deep tiredness, Janet couldn't get a single second of shut eye at all. By six a.m and truly out of ideas, she picked up the phone. Too respectful of Nicole’s boundaries to bother her at that hour (or at least, not desperate enough; had the situation been a little more urgent, she wouldn’t have hesitated to drag her to the manor kicking and screaming), she called Lex.

At the fifth ring, her old friend's voice answered- I have a conference with the president in a few hours and need rest, this better be important.

-Please, your sleep schedule is even worse than mine. I need an opinion.

-And is Al Ghul unavailable? Why are you bothering me, when you two usually ignore my advice and go to each other?

-Don’t be jealous, green isn’t your color. Lavender isn’t either, but well, I guess you can’t win all your battles…

-Bold words for someone asking for help.

-Who said anything about help? I just need a new perspective. And I’m already regretting going to you for it.

-Well, I’m awake now, so might as well. Mercy -Luthor’s voice sounded a little muffled, probably covering the receiver while he addressed his bodyguard slash buttler- I’ll be in the study, bring me coffee.

She gave him a few minutes, twirling one of her dark locks in her pointer finger. Laying in bed, unmade by all the tossing and turning she did for the last hours, she looked the picture of unrest. Luthor would laugh himself sick if he saw her now.

-Alright, I have coffee now. What happened?

-I caught Tim coming back home  after sneaking out last night. It looked like he did it before, multiple times; he had specific shoes for it that he hid, and even got some backup-plan photographs to make it look like he was just in the backyard photograpying the sky.

She heard the squeaking sound his chair made as he sat straighter, floored by her confession. 

-You should oil that chair. Is unbecoming for your image if it makes that kind of sounds everytime you move on it.

-Sorry, I can’t answer properly to the last part because I’m still reeling for the opening bit.

-Weak.

He ignored her (rude), muttering under his breath- Tim what? No, he wouldn’t… well, he does have Janet’s genes, so maybe…

-So -she cut him off, because if he kept that line of thinking, she would hang up and he still hadn’t given her any advice-, your thoughts?

-Get a bodyguard on him 24-7 who’ll keep him from going out at night -he answered quick as a wip, not even needing to think it through. She huffed.

-If it were that easy, I wouldn't need your opinion, you fool. This is my son we are talking about. Guilt and duty might keep him from going out, if I appeal to those, but brute force and shackles? He’s smart, smarter than you, maybe even than me. If he really wants to go, and finds no moral obstacles, he’ll find a way. 

-So, do what you said, attack his conscience. 

-I want to keep him safe, not emotionally destroy him.

-Forbid him from going? Like you said, he’s a dutiful son, and very well behaved.

-Which means he’ll make sure I think he’s obeying, but no guarantees he’ll actually do it. Think harder.

A few minutes went by, before the man sighed.

-You said it yourself, if he really wants to go, there’s little you can do, short of locking him up like a prince in a tower. Maybe speak to him, tell him your reasons to worry… and get him some martial arts teacher, to give him a fighting chance if he ends up disobeying anyway.

----.----

After speaking to Luthor and a quick call to Nicole for a favor (namely, get Lady Shiva to accept a work as a sensei for Tim), Janet slept for a solid nine hours. Eating, overseeing some papers and phoning her secretary to clean her schedule for the rest of the week, and she was ready to face her son after having dinner together. 

They sat on Tim’s bed, and she held his hand as she spoke to him. About how cold it was, how easy it was, before he was born. How life was do this, think about that, conquer here, throw something away there. Act, consequence, simple as that. Clinical as that.

It was different, she said, when he came to her life, to her arms. Because it was warm, and difficult, and so, so scary. She’d never been so afraid of the butterfly effect before. Now, consequences of a misstep could come to bite her in twenty years, a simple act  now could make Tim despise her in the future.

“I’ve never been so afraid in my life”, she told him, baring her soul for the first time in her life. “But I’ve also never been happier, and it’s all because of you.”

“I love you”, she told him, giving her heart away for the first time in her life. “And I can’t lose you.”

Those words were the hardest for her to say. She did it, anyway. Because he needed to hear them, and because they might be enough to keep him from pulling last night’s stunt again.

By the time she was done, Tim’s face was a mess of tears and snot. He hadn’t uttered a single word, holding onto her hand like a lifeline, but his smile was the brightest, prettiest thing she’s ever seen.

-I’ll be careful, Mom -he promised, between wrecked sobs. It had truly affected him, to hear her heart thoughts so bluntly. She ought to do this more often, if he treasured it so much- I.. I won’t go out at night alone, not until I’m someone not even the Rogues can mess with. I promise -he looks at his bedside table, where the camera sits, and looks regretful but determined at the same time. She knows he means it. Whatever feeling he got from sneaking out to take pictures, it evidently wasn’t as strong as what he felt now, holding his mom’s hand and shaking from such strong emotions.

-Thank you -she breathed in deeply, relaxing for the first time since the night before, letting go of his hand to hug his shoulders, pressing him into her side.

After a few seconds of silence, he weaseled out of her hold, raising a hand to halt her when she tried to follow his example and get up- Stay there a minute, Mom, I have something to show you.

With that, he sprinted to the light switch, and turned them off. But a slight, greenish glow remained in the room, and then she noticed the glow in the dark stars sticking to the ceiling.

There were… a lot of them.

Tim came back and sat once again next to her, hand quickly snatching hers.

-You said… you said you wanted to see the stars, so I made you a little galaxy. Whenever you want to see them, you can come here… You’ll also know, that way, that I’m here and not sneaking out.

Thanking people wasn’t something Janet did often. But she had said ‘I love you’ today, and that one was a first, so this wasn’t too far fetched for her.

-Thank you, Tim.

Feedback

A week after showing his mother his multiple closets full of disguises and aliases’ clothing, he was called into her office. 

He had expected some questions, maybe even feedback or advice in how to perfect his portrayal of other people.

He hadn’t expected this.

-..and I know I’m not as… adapted to the ever changing times as younger people like you. Me, Lex, sometimes Nicole, we are too set on our ways, but. 

She cleared her throat. Tim still wasn’t sure he wasn’t having some kind of fever dream.

-But. It’s important for you to know that I… I won’t ever judge you for something you are. I might judge your actions, like when you accept Todd’s offers for a ride downtown, or Grayson’s requests for a dance, or when you are too dumb/ kind, too kind, towards other people… But I’ll never judge you for something you didn’t choose. Like this.

In the midst of this confusing speech, Tim still couldn't quiet comprehend why mom was gesturing towards the shoes on the desk. They were simple, red heels, not even that high, belongings of Caroline Hill, one of his more successful aliases. It was a wonder how people on the Alley’s clinic hadn’t catched on that their favorite voluntary nurse slash doctor in training was a fifteen year old kid instead of the nineteen year old shy girl they thought, but it was an ego boost when they called him Miss Hill, and a boost to his medical skills when they taught him something new.

-I understand this is an… -a quick glance to the papers in her desk. Had mom… wrote this down beforehand? What…?- age of changes, yes, an age of changes for you. And you are… discovering- no, learning yourself. And I’m honored that you trusted me enough to show me that, and came to me in this… confusing times.

Tim opened his mouth to speak. Mom seemed to panic, as much as mom ever did anyways, quickly sorting through her sheets of… Information? Pointers?

-Not that I think you are confused! I trust that you know yourself the best, and I trust whatever you say to me are your honest feelings on the matter. 

-I… I am confused -he managed to blurt out. 

Mom winced, and searched among her papers some more. When she seemed to find whatever it was, she pulled it above the others, gave them a quick glance, and kept going- It’s okay if you don’t know it yet, too. There’s more than just… male or female. According to my research, there’s a ‘neither’, ‘both’ and ‘sometimes one, sometimes the other’ option.

Janet seemed lost at her own words. Tim could relate. He wasn’t even sure they were talking about his aliases anymore.

-What I mean to say is -she breathed in deeply, letting the papers fall to the desk and meeting his eyes head on-, I love you. You are my son, daughter, neither, both, whatever you feel, but still mine. My child, and nothing you do about your… identity or sexuality can change that. I’ll always accept you, as you are. And if anyone ever gives you trouble about it, you can always come to me and I’ll set their minds straight, or remove them from the picture.

Tim felt fondness surging in his chest, even as his mind came to an abrupt halt when he finally understood what this was all about.

-You might have to be patient with me, or explain some concepts, as I learn about this, because its all new information to me. But I promise you I’ll always love you no matter what, and I’m willing and ready to do my best to/

-Mom -he finally choked up, torn between embarrassment and profound love- I’m not… I’m a boy. I really, really appreciate all this, but you don’t need to… I mean, the shoes and clothes? It’s because I’m making aliases, so I can learn different things and meet people without it being traced back to me. Like, tools. Caroline Hill, the shoes owner, for example, is a tool to learn about medicine, and practice the way of women in case I ever need to disguise myself as one. Not… not actual representations of Tim Drake.

There was a minute of silence.

-Well, this is… unexpected.

-But -he continued, cheeks warm but hurting from smiling so hard- you are the best mom ever, and this learning you are doing? It’s great, even if not applicable to me, because it… it’s good, for people to understand and accept other people like that. It makes you a better person, and I’m really proud of you.

He got up from his seat and walked around the desk, sitting in the floor by his mom’s chair like he did when he was a toddler, and rested his head in her lap, hugging her legs, eyes going to hers with wonder and happiness. She seemed utterly relieved, both at not having fucked up their chat, and at him not being mad at the misunderstanding.

-Aliases, huh. I can help with that. We can talk about it over dinner, and I’ll give you some suggestions.

-Thanks, mom. And, hum, since you brought up the whole gender and sexuality stuff… this might be a good moment to let you know I’m bi.

Long, sharp nails scratched his scalp softly, his eyes closing almost on instinct. Her laugh ringed in his ears.

-It doesn’t matter to me, Timothy. Boy, girl… whoever you bring home, I’ll…

He smiled, expectant.

-... never accept them. No one, no matter their genders, is good enough for my son.

Ah, there she was, the mother he knew and loved.

Movie

Tim, sitting in his study, didn’t even raise his eyes from the paperwork mom had assigned him (to help make him accustomed to dealing with it for when he’ll have a more central role in DI)  when the door opened and closed with a bang. He continued signing contracts with one hand, while the other patted his desk for his phone, shooting a quick text to the butler without looking.

-Can you believe it? -his intruder clamored, walking back and forth in front of Tim’s desk, hands messing through long locks of black hair.

-No -he replied, eyes still not leaving his work- It's amazing, how the stock market dropped on Wayne Enterprises. What is Bruce thinking, with the neon knights? He can’t do that and then go gallivanting around the world alone again, the stockholders won’t stand for such a big inversion without the logical follow up. I need to phone Damian about this, maybe he can ask his brothers to pose as Bruce and/

-I’m not talking about your precious Waynes!

-I know -he replied, hand finishing the last stroke of his signature, raising his eyes to his godmother just as the door opened and the butler brought a tea (and coffee) set, placing it by the little table in the corner of the study-, but I needed a few minutes to finish this before paying attention to you, Aunt. Now, a cup of tea? I’ll be having coffee, but it might not be the best for your frayed nerves.

-My nerves aren’t frayed, you little brat. Show some respect. Where is my cute little angel of a godson? -she complained, sitting as elegantly as ever in the plus couch by the little table. Tim sat opposite her.

-He hasn't slept in three days -and is being asked to meddle into adult’s problems, but he didn’t voice that part, merely mixing ingredients in the steaming cup-, It’s natural to be bitter. Now, tea?

She didn’t answer, but accepted the offered drink, already prepared to her tastes perfectly. Despite her anger, she smiled. Two sugars, no milk, a little lemon, the smallest hint of vodka. Her godson knew her so well.

A few seconds went by as Tim readied his own coffee and downed half. The butler topped the cup for him, and then left just as quietly as he had came.

-Now, want to tell me what has you so mad?

He already knew, but playing innocent was one of his strengths. Bruce still blamed Dick for the incident on the music room of the manor, despite the fact that Tim had been there at the moment and his eldest far away on a secret mission civilian Tim wasn't supposed to know about. That was the true power of a goodie two shoes.

-Your mother, she… You know we were planning on going to the movies today, and she…!

-Ah -he nodded, as if only catching up then- She went with Dana, right?

Nicole gritted her teeth, downing her cup in one long glup to calm herself. Tim merely took the teapot and filled it again.

-Janet doesn’t even like the movies! She hates being around other people. The only reason she goes is to humor me, and now… That woman…

-Dana is a good person -he intervened, because he genuinely liked her. Dana Winters had been in charge of taking care of his comatose dad until his death, and they had spent some time together during his visits to Jack. A lot of his alias Caroline Hill had been based on her. And right now, she...

-Too good -Nicole muttered, which Tim suspects, was the root of the problem.

-Shouldn't you be glad? -he asked, head tilted in his best show of naivety- That mom is trying to get someone kind to be by her side? Dad wasn’t… dad wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t as nice to mom as he could have been. I, for one, want her to be happy.

-Janet doesn’t do nice.

It took everything in him to not answer ‘well, she might tonight’, because that would ruin his innocent image, and he was afraid Nicole might actually stab Dana. Really, refraining himself like that was almost painful. Mom better appreciate his sacrifice.

-The nicest thing she could ever stand was you -she continued, ignorant to her godson’s internal struggle-, and you are her baby.

-I’m fifteen -he felt compelled to inform her, but was promptly shushed.

-To us, you never grew past your chubby stage.

-I didn’t have a chubby stage, and you can’t prove otherwise -he’d know. He was the one who got rid of the evidence.

-Back to the point… Dana is no good fit for your mom. She’d end up tearing off her own hair in frustration in less than a month after countless discussions of morality and ‘doing the right thing’. She can barely resist when it’s you doing the nagging and, again, you are the exception to all of Janet’s rules.

Tim hummed, thinking distractedly how someone as smart as Nicole couldn’t see that Dana’s good heart wasn’t the problem here. Oh well, he needed to be a little more direct.

-And who do you think would be a good match for mom? Someone distant, like dad? Or easily manipulated?

A growling almost came out of Nicole’s mouth. Tim refilled his coffee cup again.

-Neither… those make for good tools, but not partners. Janet needs someone who understands her, who couldn’t judge, who likes her as rotten and twisted as she is.

Should he protest? This was his mother they were talking about. Not that she was wrong, but… still.

Deciding against it, because he needed to get back to work and this conversation was already exhausting, he nodded- Mm, but plenty of people in high society adore her... 

-Those fools either don’t know of her true nature, or are too scared of it. None would make for a good life companion.

-So, someone who isn’t scared of her, knows her inside out, isn’t morally upright…

-They should also have similar objectives in life -Nicole interjected, empty cup clattering against the plater when she placed it there-, otherwise Janet might feel the need to remove them to keep them off her way.

-Objectives, like…?

-Staying on top of the food chain of the corporate world, for example. And keeping loved ones safe. Like you, for her.

“And Damian, for you”, he didn’t say. Finally, they seemed to be reaching the end of the discussion. Just a few more lines...

-And they should be strong -she kept on, digging her own grave for Tim’s convenience-, because Janet is, too, which means her enemies are as well, and she needs someone to have her back if she ever needs it.

-I don’t think -he wondered, finger tapping his chin in childlike confusion- that such a person exists. Someone as morally compromised as mom, strong enough to help her achieve her objectives, who knows her and loves her. I never met someone like that… I mean, besides you.

Time seemed to stop for Nicole, who dropped the scon she had halfway through her mouth. Tim knew what having a romantic realization felt like, so he let her deal with it while he finished his coffee. After a few minutes letting her stew, he force a look of curiosity and concern on his face- Aunt Nicole? Are you alright? You went really quiet…

Nicole wasn’t sitting in front of him any longer. Okay, he’ll forgive the rudeness, in the spirit of love and all that. Picking up his phone, he sent Dana a quick text, warning her to make herself scarce.

“Everything going according to plan on my end”

“Ah, okay. I’ll thank Janet for accompanying me, and ask her to just be friends. Then I’ll catch a taxi :) “

“Yeah, let me know once you are back on your house, it’s getting pretty late”

“Aw, you’re such a gentleman. Me and your mom spent all afternoon talking about you, you know. And Nicole”

“You buttered her up to the idea?”

“She seemed to be considering ending this ‘date’ early as well to go looking for her, so I’m guessing I did ;) “

“Thank you again, Dana “

“Make sure they invite me to the wedding, and we’re even!”

“If they don’t elope, that’s it”

“They won’t. That would mean missing the chance to make Uncle Lex miserable by asking him to plan the whole ceremony”

Smiling despite himself, he put his coffee cup down and went back to his desk. Better to get work out of the way before Mom and Nicole came back and informed him of the good news. 

Shocked face number three might do.

[lookatthisdork]

Imagine the batboys braiding the batgirls’ hair

It started out with tiny little Robin Dick noticing that Barbara Batgirl - who was amazing and intelligent and kicked so much ass and also was super pretty - sometimes had trouble with her hair smacking her in the face on windy days. Even a ponytail wasn’t quite enough, leading to post-patrol snarls the size of a coin that she’d sometimes spend a bit trying to finger comb before giving up. So Dick enlists help from literally-knows-how-to-do-everything Alfred to learn how to make a french braid. Babs is kind of flabbergasted when he first offers to do her hair on a rooftop one night, but she humors him. And wow, he’s actually pretty good and very convenient; it becomes a regular thing after that for bad-but-not-terrible weather.

Jason, who grew up messing around with his mother’s hair, doesn’t immediately offer to do Barbara’s, but once they get to know each other he does her hair one night, and oh man. He’s like a professional stylist. A few times he did upside down french braids (starting at the nape of the neck instead of the crown of the head), and Batgirl would have a bunch of bystanders and even a few still-conscious goons ask her who did her hair. She’d say it was Robin and watch with amusement as Jason blushed as red as his tunic at the attention. (There was one guy who made the mistake of putting down Robin for doing something so “unmanly”; he got Batgirl’s boot to the crotch for that.)

Tim never did Barbara’s hair, but he did see Stephanie touching up her own braids from time to time. He wasn’t super interested for himself, but he was there one night when Steph was trying to teach Cass, with...less than optimal results. So Tim was just like “hey, you could teach me to do Cass’s hair.” (Braiding your own hair is a very different beast from braiding someone else’s.) But Cass still wanted to learn, so they all decided that Cass would practice on Tim and Tim would practice on Cass so everyone could benefit from Steph’s skills. And Cass sported dutch braids and fishtails for a few months while everyone scratched their heads as Tim walked around with cornrows.

One time, Stephanie’s braid came undone at a really inopportune time and while she didn’t get hurt badly, she took a few flesh wounds that wouldn’t have happened if her hair was flying into her mouth. Two weeks later, Damian demands she kneel with her back to him, and Steph is like no. Why. You don’t get to tell me to kneel. They go back and forth for a bit before Damian, completely flustered now, asks her to sit so he can fix her poorly-done hair. Rude, but okay, Steph remembers the braid thing, maybe this is Damian...showing his concern? She sits down, and it takes Robin a minute tops to have her hair secured in the most functional braided bun she’s ever seen in real life. Like, she doesn’t know how he did it, but it doesn’t throw off her balance or bounce around at all, plus it stays the whole night and comes undone easily when she’s at home. She’s tried learning Damian’s technique multiple times, only to fail. (Either because Damian is cheating with ninja magic or he just can’t teach hair-styling. Steph thinks it’s both.)

Bruce sucks at hair. He doesn’t even know what to do with his sons’ hair - that was always Alfred’s domain. He actually thought that Tim had gotten dreadlocks during the cornrow-era. What’s the difference between the two? Fuck if Bruce knows. So when Cass asks him to do her hair for the upcoming gala, he is 100% ready to pass that job off to literally anyone else. Jason, probably, since it’ll guarantee that his second son is at least in the manor the day of the party.

But Cass gives him this Look, like how people always describe Puppy Dog Eyes but not actually Puppy Dog Eyes because those don’t actually work on Bruce, but Cass’s Look works, and he can’t just turn her away. So he says okay, I’ll do your hair. And then the moment she leaves, he panic dials Dick because he has an afternoon to cram for this, and he needs help. Cue a hair-styling bootcamp featuring all the batfam minus Cass as they try to get Bruce to pick a simple up-do, then try to teach him the more complicated up-do + curling iron he insisted on instead.

The day of the gala comes, and Bruce is ready. He’s got the curling iron and hairspray and pins and heirloom barrettes with actual diamonds in them. And Jason is low-key on standby in case they need an emergency do-over, but Bruce actually does a really good job. Cass is so happy with it, she makes a point of standing by Bruce the whole gala so that every time someone compliments her hair, she can say “Thank you, my dad did it.” Bruce is goddamn floating on air the whole night while the kids discreetly high-five themselves on a job well done.

[obsessedauthorchan-blog]

Shakespearean - Chapter 6

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Summary:

The two dorks meet at the IT department so Timbers can fix Jay-Jay's lappy-toppy. Yay.

Also, cuteness.

Also, Tim being a super genius that doesn't like costumer service jobs. Because he hates people.

I feel you Timmers...

Story:

After hours of being bored at a Library, something that was an entirely new experience for Jason, he finally got off work. He hurried back to his dorm and changed out of his work clothes. Part of him considered dressing to impress, but the logical side hushed those thoughts. There was no reason to get ahead of himself. Jason didn't know Tim well enough to get this excited over him, nor did he have any reason to think that Tim did, would, or could like him in that way in the first place.

He decided that a pair of jeans and another band shirt would suffice. He didn't bother with his unruly hair either. Jason quickly shoved his combat boots on his feet, packed up his laptop, and headed out the door.

When he reached the building where IT Support was located, he checked his watch. 5:05. Between walking home, changing clothes, and walking to the IT building, an hour was pretty good. He took a deep breath and headed into the overly air conditioned building.

It took him a few minutes to navigate through the building to the area where the Support team worked. When he got there, it only took him a second to find Tim. Mostly because Tim was talking on the phone in the most monotone voice Jason had ever heard him use.

"Yes, ma'am, you should see a window pop up. Just follow the instructions as written and it should be fine." He paused for a moment to listen to whatever the woman was saying. "No, ma'am, it shouldn't require any kind of payment. The update for this program is free- It should only take a few minu- Ma'am, if you'd only- I understand that ma'am, but-" Tim stopped talking, letting the woman drone on for a while. He removed the phone from his ear and sighed heavily, before putting it back. "Yes, ma'am," he continued.

Jason felt kind of bad, but he couldn't help but snicker quietly. He'd never seen Tim like this and it was quite hilarious. Watching the man get so frustrated was much funnier than it should have been, and Jason decided that, however bad of a person it made him, he could watch this for literal hours without getting bored.

Luckily for Tim, the conversation only lasted a few more minutes before the woman figured out what she was doing. Jason had to give the guy props: Jason himself would not have been that patient. Not even close. He was actually kind of impressed by how well Tim had kept his cool.

When the woman hung up, Tim leaned forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on his knees and letting his head fall into his hands. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. Jason tiptoed over to stand in front of his desk and, after making sure he wouldn't laugh, cleared his throat.

Tim jerked his head up, eyes wide and wild. His whole body had spasmed with his surprise, and Jason was immensely proud of himself for having managed to startle Tim so easily. When Tim realized it was Jason, he exhaled a heavy sigh of relief. He relaxed back into his chair and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

The younger man shook his head slightly. "Should have none it'd be you." He slowly sat back up, fighting a small smile. "How long have you been here?"

Jason gave him a wide grin. "I arrived at precisely 5:05." When Tim rose an eyebrow, Jason's smile only widened. "I'm very punctual, you know."

"Hmm," Tim hummed, still not allowing himself to smile. He gestured toward the laptop case Jason had slung over his shoulder. "Let me see the patient."

Jason snorted but handed over the laptop. "Be gentle, Doc. She's in a terrible amount of pain."

Tim gave him a pointed look, though there was a light of humor in his eyes. "Gee, I wonder why that would be."

Jason shook his head sadly. "She's infected, Doc. A virus, and a terrible one at that."

Tim plugged in the power cord and booted up the computer. "What a shame. Let me just give her a checkup and I'll see what I can do."

Jason nodded solemnly. "Thank you, Doc. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Tim finally allowed himself a smirk. "Probably kill your poor laptop from watching too much porn."

Jason's jaw dropped, and he struggled to find a reply. Tim snickered. The mirth in Tim's eyes didn't help Jason find words, but he managed to force out, "It wasn't porn, Timmy." Tim didn't appear to believe Jason, so he rolled his eyes. "It was anime. I was downloading anime."

Tim immediately gave him a look of understanding. He turned the laptop towards Jason so he could put in his password. "Yeah, that happens. You don't have much protection software, do you?"

Jason shook his head. He hadn't had the time or money to upgrade his laptop like he wanted. He was lucky he even had the dang thing in the first place. He cleared his throat and moved on. "So, what's the diagnosis, Doc?"

Tim gave him a strange look, but he didn't mention it. He looked back down at the laptop in front of him, typing and clicking for a couple minutes. "Dang, Jason."

Jason crossed his arms over his chest. "What's that?"

The corner of Tim's mouth quirked upwards. "There are two things you have a ton of: anime and viruses. Honestly, who needs 500 gig of downloaded anime?"

Jason shrugged. "How many viruses do I have?"

Tim grimaced. "Fifty, at least. Maybe more." Jason whistled in appreciation of his mad virus-gathering skills, and Tim nodded in acknowledgement. "I've never seen this many on one computer before. This would take any other guy in here days to figure out without completely wiping your computer and starting over from the beginning." Jason almost groaned out loud in frustration when Tim looked up at him with the cockiest (and sexiest) smirk he had ever seen in his life. "Luckily for you, Jay, I'm a genius. I can fix this in a few hours and you even get to keep your ridiculous cache of anime."

A smile slowly grew on Jason's face. "You don't say."

"I do."

"Is that wedding bells I here?" Neither Jason nor Tim had said that. They both looked up and over to where one of Tim's apparent coworkers was standing, looking like he felt more awkward by the second when neither of them laughed. "Okay... I guess not."

Tim rolled his eyes. "What's up, Luke?"

The guy, whose name was apparently Luke, swallowed saliva before speaking. "Well, the thing is, Tim, um, there's this one client who, um, happens to be having a certain problem and I, uh, I'm-"

"Luke, get to the point. This is a sprint, not a meander." Tim didn't look happy. In fact, Jason thought he looked irritated enough to smash the guy's hard drive or something.

Luke got real sheepish, but he managed to rush out, "A lady is having a problem with her laptop and I don't know what to do to fix it."

Tim sighed. He muttered, "Figures," and stood up. He turned to Jason and shook his head. "Sorry, Jason. This will probably only take a minute or so, judging by the kinds of problems Luke usually can't figure out on his own," he shot a scathing look towards Luke, who looked ready to pee his pants. "I promise I'll get right to work as soon as I finish doing his job for him." Then he stomped off to Luke's desk, Luke following behind him like a kicked puppy.

Damn. Tim was hot when he was mad.

From where Jason was sitting in the client's chair in front of Tim's desk, he could hear everything Tim and Luke said if he paid attention, and if he strained his neck he could see them. Luke was making very large, complicated hand gestures as he floundered about for words to explain the problem to Tim. Halfway through his explanation though, Tim just held up a hand to silence him and went to work. It only took him a couple minutes to figure out and solve the problem the computer was having, and he was muttering darkly the whole time. When he finished, he stood up, gave the client a tight smile, gave Luke a murderous glare, and strode back over to his own desk. He plopped down in his chair with a sigh.

At Jason's half-amused, half-concerned look, Tim ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Sorry about that. I'm usually better at keeping my cool, but Luke has been working here for a couple months now and he barely knows a thing about computers in the first place. I'm pretty sure the only reason he still has a job is because I keep doing his for him. He keeps making rookie mistakes, like the amateur he is, and I keep covering for him and fixing whatever problem he probably just made worse." When his little rant was over, Tim sank back into the cushion of his chair and looked down at the laptop. "On to the interesting stuff."

"Interesting?" Jason figured Tim probably didn't want Jason to comment on the frustration that was Luke's lack of IT prowess, so he helped Tim change the subject.

"Yeah. Very interesting. It will actually be a bit of a challenge to fix your computer without wiping it. I haven't had a real challenge in a while."

"That's right. You're a computer genius." Jason was smiling quietly to himself, observing the younger man. Tim was obviously in his element with the computers, but he also seemed to be out of his element when it came to people. Coworkers and customers didn't seem to be his thing. Apparently, Tim wasn't one of those people who lived for the customer service type jobs.

Tim nodded. "Hacked into NASA when I was 9, hacked into the Pentagon when I was 12, and a whole bunch of other stuff in between. Everybody here knows I'm the best one here, and at some point they all end up asking me for help." He tossed a pointed glare over his shoulder. "Nobody's quite as bad as Luke, though."

Jason considered what Tim had said, trying not to look too impressed. "So what's a rich computer genius doing working for IT Support?"

Tim snorted. "I ask myself that all the time..." He shook his head. "I was bored, and I wanted something to do."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "Really?" When Tim nodded, Jason shook his head. "Not buying it. If you were just bored, you'd hack into some other top secret organization or solve cold cases in your spare time or something. Working at IT isn't any less boring than not working."

Tim gave him a considering look before he seemed to relent. "Fine." He hesitated for a moment. "Everything I have either came from Bruce's money or my parent's money. I wanted to be able to do something for myself. Not to prove that I can or something, because I know I'm capable. I'm just tired of living off of somebody else's work. I wasn't doing anything for myself. I'm in college. It's time to start acting like an adult. I'm going to be one soon enough anyway."

Jason contemplated Tim's words. They made sense, and Jason could see where he was coming from, even if he couldn't relate. "I guess that's a pretty darn good reason there, Timbo."

Tim just nodded and went back to working on the laptop. In a few minutes, he looked back up at Jason. "This is going to take at least three hours. Do you want to stay or do you have stuff you need to do?"

He thought about it for a moment, but Jason knew staying there would be more enjoyable than anything he could do somewhere else. He enjoyed Tim's company, and he wanted to remain in it for a little while longer if he could. "I think I'll stay." He gave Tim a teasing look. "Have to make sure you won't spill coffee all over my laptop."

Tim rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Jason."

They lapsed into silence. Jason had had the forethought to bring a book with him, so he got comfortable and dove into a new story. He had pretty much lost himself in the words when Tim spoke about 30 minutes into Jason's visit. "Hey, Jason?"

"What's up, Timbo?"

Tim gave him a funny look, probably because of the random nicknames Jason kept giving him. "Remember when you offered to help me with my Shakespeare?" Jason nodded. "Well, I have another class on Friday, and I know you said you're off tomorrow, so I was wondering if that might be an okay time to get together?" When Jason didn't respond immediately, Tim said, "I know it's last minute and-"

"Timmy."

"You probably have something to do, or you just might not want to spend your day off tutoring someone-"

"Timmers."

"So it's totally okay if you can't or don't want to or-"

"Tim!"

Tim finally stopped talking and looked up at him from the keyboard he'd been focusing on. "Tim, tomorrow is perfect. I've got nothing to do, I never have a problem with talking about Shakespeare, and," Jason gave him a grin, "even if I did, it would be totally worth it to hang with you."

Jason wasn't certain, but he was pretty sure Tim's ears were redder than tomatoes.

"Oh, okay. Cool. Where works best for you? The library, your place, my place, a place to eat-"

"Tim." When he stopped talking, Jason started. "Your place probably works best. Roy will be at my place all day, which does not make for an environment conducive to studying, at this point I have no desire to be in the library when I don't have to be, and a place to eat would probably be too loud and I don't want to risk getting the books dirty or something."

Tim opened his mouth, closed it back, hesitated, and then nodded. "Yeah, okay. Wayne Manor it is, then. Does 4:00 work for you?"

Jason nodded. "Four is perfect. One problem, though."

"What's that?"

"I don't know where Wayne Manor is, and I don't have a car. Can I get there via public transportation?"

Tim snorted. "No. No, you cannot. I have a class at 2:30, so I'll be on campus around then anyway. I'll just pick you up, and I can bring you back later."

Jason's first thought was a refusal, but he reconsidered. While he didn't like the idea of relying on somebody for a ride and therefore being effectively stranded, it would be kind of nice to ride in a car with Tim. And it would be cheaper. And he really wanted to hang out with him. "Okay, if you're sure."

Tim nodded. "I'm sure."

"Well, okay then." They smiled at each other. Then Tim returned to the computer and Jason to his book.

Only a small amount of time passed before Tim stopped messing with the computer and leaned back in his chair. Jason glanced up at him. "Done already?"

Tim snorted. "Nope." He raised his arms over his head and arched his back, stretching his muscles like a cat. "The program that will remove the viruses is running. At this point, there isn't anything I can do to speed up with process short of writing my own version." He paused, tilting his head and squinting his eyes into the space above Jason’s head. "Huh. Maybe I should do that." He shrugged and relaxed back into his chair.

His eyebrows wrinkling, Jason put his book down at gave Tim a once-over. "You're weird."

Tim smiled. "Thanks, bro. Why am I weird?"

Jason shrugged. "I don't know; you're sitting here cleaning my laptop’s figurative intenstines and contemplating writing some computer program." He shot him a reading grin. "Most rich kids don't get a job in IT."

Tim returned the smile. "Mostly street kids don't memorize Shakespeare. What's your excuse?"

"Before I learned how to protect myself, I used to hideout in libraries when I was a kid. A librarian took pity on me and taught me how to read. I've been doing it ever since. I started reading Shakespeare so I could trick other people into thinking I was educated." Jason cracked his knuckles lazily as he spoke. "Didn't expect to like it so much." He ignored Tim's expression, mostly because he couldn't read it. "What's your excuse?"

Tim broke eye contact and stared down at his hands. "Bruce taught me a lot of stuff about computers when he was helping me catch the guy who killed my parents. We wouldn't have gotten half as far as we did without some of those programs we used. I liked learning about it and I was good at it, so I kept it up. Somewhere along the line, I decided I wanted to help create more programs to catch criminals faster, and to make sure nobody innocent gets locked up in their place. That's why I'm majoring in Computer Science and Forensics." He looked up at Jason, making eye contact again. The sad look in his eyes changed to a mask of indifference. "I already know pretty much everything they'll try to teach me, but if I don't have the credentials to back up my genius, then nobody will take me seriously."

Jason took in everything Tim told him, nodding solemnly. "I changed my mind, Timmy. That's not weird at all."

Tim smiled at him. "And your reasons for reading Shakespeare are completely understandable. Liking it though..." Tim's grin turned sharp. "That's still pretty weird."

Jason couldn't help the wide smile that stretched his lips. "Whatever you say, Timmers."

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