#took like half an hour to do that & change over & restring though

[joyridingmp3]

i got too worked up playing guitar and my string SNAPPED in half and then the ball end got stuck in my bridge 😭

[drabblemeister]

a Study in Red {4}

Read this chapter on Ao3! Pairing: JayTim Author’s Notes: I meant to post this last week but I got sick - boo! Sorry about that! Thank you for all of the kind comments, likes, and reblogs! You all are the absolute best. Hope you enjoy this next chapter! Chapter 4:

It was half past midnight when Roy slouched backwards against his chair, rolling his head back dramatically. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

It was enough to draw Tim’s attention from the couch, where he sat cradling one of Jason’s laptops. He’d borrowed it an hour or so earlier, intent on reading through all of the end-of-day reports he’d missed from WE.

“Too bad,” Jason replied, flinging the bow’s cracked cam piece at Roy’s unguarded chest. “It’s not going to fix itself.”

Even though Tim’s energy had been focused on stocks and upcoming company projects, he’d occasionally glanced over to the dining room table where Jason and Roy had decided to work. The night’s goal seemed to be re-wiring Roy’s bow, and due to the fact most of the replacement supplies were in the bay, they hadn’t made much progress.

“It ain’t gonna work even when it is fixed,” Roy said, tilting backwards in his chair. He’d caught the cam as it’d fallen to his lap, and now lifted his head in order to flick it back Jason’s direction. “Tension’s all wrong.”

Tim watched Jason catch the disk with both hands before setting it onto the table with a snap. A moment later, he kicked the leg of Roy’s chair, which sent Roy scrambling to keep his balance while yelling an offended, “Oi!” Jason’s direction.

Sliding an elbow forward and onto the table, Jason simply sighed before balancing his chin on the upturned palm of his hand. He delivered Roy a questioning smirk and said, “Don’t tell me it’s past your bedtime?”

For a moment, it looked like Roy might stay annoyed, but Jason’s slow smile seemed to give him life. “Why? You got somethin’ more fun to do?”

Tim filled the small gap of silence with loud clacking, his fingers dancing across the keyboard rhythmically. As the report came to life in front of him, he saw Jason’s gaze shoot his way in his peripheral vision. It only lingered for a moment, and that was because Roy made a sudden, sharp sound that evolved into a wistful sigh.

“I’d love to watch you restring my bow, Jaybird.”

Jason snorted. “As talented as these hands are, I don’t think they’re the solution to your problem.”

Without pausing in his typing, Tim said, “You should probably try a thicker gauge.”

The comment sat for a moment, drawing attention Tim’s way; even so, he continued on with his report. Roy’s tech was strikingly similar to a project he and Lucius had tackled a few years back, and so it was easy to see the gaps in what Roy had put together so far.

“If that wire snaps, my fingers go with it,” Roy finally said.

This time, Tim looked up, his typing slowing but not coming to a stop. “It won’t snap if you use a hard cam,” he commented before raising an eyebrow. “You’re probably using a round because it’s quieter, right?”

When Roy’s head tilted back, his hair fell loose across his cheek. “Can’t use a hard cam ‘cause it ruins the system. The shot ain’t reliable.”

Tim glanced at the bow, though he could only make out the bottom limb from where he was sitting.

“You’re using a hybrid?” he asked.

Roy nodded.

“Use a single. Custom doesn’t always have to mean more complicated. And if the sound is still an issue, switch out the arrester.”

Tim caught Jason staring at him with lidded eyes, wearing an expression he couldn’t quite place. It felt like one he should remember.

“Well, that settles it,” Roy slapped a hand onto the table just before pushing himself up. “You’re hired. It’s all yours.”

As Roy waved a hand across the entirety of the table, which was scattered with parts and pieces, Jason calmly caught his wrist. “Tim isn’t building your bow.”

“Ah, Jay,” Roy sighed, gently shaking his way out of Jason’s grip. “I wanna see if his hands are as talented as yours.”

Tim didn’t miss the unimpressed frown that tugged as Jason’s lips and Roy didn’t either, because his grin went wide as he glanced between them.

Roy said, “Maybe when he’s done, you can get him to polish your gun.”

Jason’s mouth opened, but Tim beat him to the chase.

“I have no intention of handling either of your malfunctioning weapons.”

Roy pressed his long fingers to his chest in feigned offense, looking lanky in the dim light.

In contrast, Jason slouched back lazily in his chair and rubbed his nose. “My weapon works just fine, thank you very much.”

“Hahaha!” Roy laughed. “Doesn’t mean Red here can’t help with the maintenance. Rumor has it you bats don’t get a lot of hands-on with pistols.”

Jason rolled his eyes and reached for his water bottle, which was tangled in cable wire.

Recognizing a challenge when he heard one, Tim sighed and swept section of hair behind his ear. When he spoke, his tone came languid; easy.

“You’re right,” he said, matter-of-fact. “Most of my hands-on involves my staff. It may not be much to you, but it’s long and gets more than eight rounds.”

Tim had expected a moment of quiet, one where he could hold Roy’s gaze in a silent dare to continue.

He did not expect Jason to spit up the water he’d been drinking in one, dramatic spray that soaked the entire table and it’s contents, threatening to kill the candle.

Roy didn’t bother looking at Jason; he simply kept his eyes on Tim, as if seeing him for the first time.

“Ohhh,” Roy drawled. “I like this one. Let’s keep him.”

Tim shifted in order to pull his phone from his back pocket. He hummed to himself as he said, “Opening calendar...right. Let this day be remembered as the one where I got the last word in against a certain Roy Harper.”

As his fingers poked at keys, Roy offered a dramatic bow of respect and tossed a smirk Jason’s way. And Jason - he responded by glaring from between his fingers, which he’d been using to shield his face, which had gone slightly red. He asked, “Weren’t you going to bed?”

Roy grinned like he’d won some unspoken battle, and gave Jason a significant waggle of his eyebrows. “You’re right.” Stretching his hands high, he took a few lofty steps away from the table and made a show of sitting on the edge of the couch. “Upsy-daisy. I’m sleeping here.”

Tim stared up at him. “What?”

Various pieces of Roy’s bow went clattering to the ground as Jason pushed up from the table, flicking a pointed finger Roy’s direction before tossing his thumb another, a clear and decisive demand for Roy to move it to the bedroom.

“Aw, but Jaybird,” Roy said. “You’re gonna make an injured kid sleep on the couch?”

At that, Tim felt offended. “Um, not a kid?”

“Roy,” Jason stated. “Get.”

As expected, Roy laughed, not at all intimidated. Tim watched him huff an amused sigh just before meandering down the hallway where he turned into the room Tim suspected housed an actual bed.

“I’m going to grab you some clothes,” Jason said, but Tim didn’t miss the grudging edge to his tone. He opened his mouth to tell Jason he was fine sleeping in what he had on, but the words didn’t make it to his lips.

He had class later, and wasn’t going to have time to run by his apartment. He’d have to make do wearing this outfit again. So, when Jason returned with a bundle, Tim simply set the laptop onto the coffee table, not bothering to close it.

Jason noticed.

“You need to get some rest,” he said.

The comment had the opposite effect. Instead of feeling any of his own exhaustion, Tim simply noticed the tired, darkened circles under Jason’s eyes and once again remembered the red-circled Friday on the calendar.

“You too,” he said, rising to his feet while holding out his hand for the clothes. He glanced down the hallway, distracted by the sound of Roy whistling. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

At the mention of the exam, Jason’s demeanor shifted; his gaze wandered and he seemed to remember that was a thing. He groaned, looking exhausted, and dragged a hand down his face.

“Ugh. Tomorrow is Friday.”

Tim thought that Jason’s anxiety had more to do with the significance of the diploma rather than his ability to actually get it.

“It’s only 2am. You have plenty of time,” Tim decided to say, just before giving Jason a questioning look. “Bathroom?”

There was only one, and it was a narrow space wedged at the end of the hall, just across from the bedroom. Tim got a modest glance at the space - saw a shape that resembled the foot of a bed and a square piece of furniture he assumed was a dresser.

The view was intercepted by Roy, who was dragging a heavy bag towards the door. When he caught sight of Tim, his lips folded to form a grin and he waggled his eyebrows in invitation.

Tim allowed his expression to fall flat with disinterest.

In the bathroom, one lone candle flickered, it’s wick burned to a hairsbreadth. Tim made quick work of changing, not entirely surprised when Jason’s loose, cotton sweat-shorts fell past his knees and hung loose on his hips. Less shocking was the size of Jason’s shirt; it’s wide neckline dipped low against Tim’s skin, not quite covering the smooth lines of his collar bones. It fell nearly halfway to his thighs, reminding Tim that Jason had a good seven inches on him.

When Tim ventured back to the living room, he watched as Jason returned his gun to its holster on the underside of the coffee table. When it was secure, Jason glanced up, only to look caught off guard.

“Yeah, I know,” Tim waved him off. “You should really take it easy on the protein bars.”

Jason’s eyes lifted until Tim caught them with his own. He expected a witty comeback. Instead, Tim watched Jason bite at his lower lip, as if whatever he had planned to say, he’d decided against it. Then, he was standing.

“Is there anything else that you need?”

Tim watched Jason’s eyes look everywhere but him. “Just your all clear to leave later,” he said, finally. “I have a class at eight.”

At that, Jason’s attention slid towards the bedroom. “If we haven’t been ambushed by now, I think we’re good.”

Tim agreed, but it felt like the right thing to get permission, seeing as to how it was Jason’s safehouse they were attempting to keep hidden.

Quiet stretched, one that felt strangely empty. Tim opened his mouth twice only to realize he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to say. Eventually, Jason drifted towards the table, picking up the bow parts he’d scattered earlier. Not too long after, Tim watched him disappear down the darkened hallway from above the screen of his laptop.

When his thoughts wandered too far, he pulled them back to his work. It was another hour before he finally decided to sleep.

***

By the time Tim’s alarm sounded, he was already awake. Jason had ventured out at some godawful early hour and Tim hadn’t bothered asking why; Roy’s cacophony of snores had woken him up as well.

He and Jason shared the couch, bookended and blearily dozing until Jason decided to do them both a favor and make coffee. It was the pick-me-up Tim needed, and within the half-hour he was dressed and ready to head out. When he confessed he would probably be about fifteen minutes early – a record, really – Jason shoved a protein shake at him and refused to disarm the premise until at least half of it was gone.

The bay looked the same as Tim remembered, and when Jason turned on the overhead lights, Tim blinked at the brightness. He was in the process of tugging on his helmet when Jason asked, “We on for tonight?”

It took Tim a moment to connect the dots, realizing tonight was Jason’s final opportunity to cram. He nodded. “My place?”

Jason tipped his head back to yawn and held his hand up, waving it no. When he could speak again, he managed a “Mine,” smacking his lips just before scratching at his scalp, sending his hair into a disheveled frenzy. “I’ve got a date with Ermanno Endrizzi tonight. Something tells me he’ll be wanting his breadsticks to go.”

Tim snorted as he righted his bike and took a heel to his kickstand. “Just text me. I’ve got two classes and a lab, and I should probably shower at some point.”

Jason looked impressed. “That’s it? By golly, that sounds like a light day.”

Tim said, “Whatever will I do?”

“Have dinner with me, apparently,” Jason replied. He took a moment to look smug about it, and Tim pulled his helmet down and over his face.

With a smirk, Jason raised the bay door and waved him off and Tim raced against time to make it to campus.

***

It was nearly evening when Tim left his lab, in dire need of both caffeine and answers. The former was easy enough to remedy, but the latter meant a quick trip to Wayne Enterprises. Since Tim had his own transportation today, he weaved inner-city rush-hour traffic and parked in an emptied, private lot.

This late, the building had mostly cleared out. Floor managers bustled in the lobby, overseeing registrars and receptionists as security shepherded their departure. His entrance meant undue attention and he wasn’t at all surprised when a manager came jogging after him in order to say, “I’m sorry, but the building is closing.”

The comment brought Tim to a halt; he’d nearly forgotten that he wasn’t dressed for the occasion. Fresh from classes, he was wearing faded denims, a graphic tee, and a jacket distressed more from wear than aesthetic. When he turned in acknowledgement, he threw his head a bit in order to slant his bangs sideways and out of his eyes.

“The internship program hours are nine-to-noon,” the manager went on to say, and Tim couldn’t help but be amused. The man was just like Bruce liked his floor-people: sour-faced and suspicious.

“Timothy Drake-Wayne,” Tim stated, holding out his hand. He’d long-mastered the art of standing his ground, and the look he delivered was enough to at least earn a pause. “I was hoping to catch Bruce before he left. Is he still around?”

When the floor-manager shook his hand, it was calculating. “Mr. Wayne wasn’t in today,” he said, and Tim felt slightly annoyed. Mostly it was because he couldn’t tell if he was being told the truth or being dismissed.

One of the elevators pinged, and since the lobby was nearly empty, the sound was loud enough to fill the space. A receptionist across the room scurried from behind her desk to greet whomever had descended and when Tim turned to see for himself, he bled a sigh of relief.

“Timmy?” Dick questioned, and he looked incredibly dapper in a suit he probably hadn’t worn in well over a year. His hair was artfully slicked back, and when his eyes danced up to the floor-manager, Tim found his hand immediately released.

“Hey,” Tim said, wondering what bet Dick had lost in order to be here, dressed like that. “Did I forget about an event?”

Dick laughed and it was perfectly charming. Since the receptionist had approached to ask if he needed anything else, he did the polite thing and told her she was free to leave for the evening – and while he did so, Tim delivered a smile to the floor manager that could have been interpreted a thousand ways. In the end, it got the manager to step aside, muttering a small apology before stepping aside, leaving Dick and Tim with due privacy.

“I thought you were sick,” Dick commented when he was close enough to give Tim a knowing look.

“I was,” Tim said, rolling his shoulder for show, “and thanks to modern medicine, I’m getting better. I just got out of class. I haven’t been able to get ahold of Bruce all day. Did he decide to go to the course?”

It was a code they’d used for forever, the course alluding to Justice League meetings, which typically came out of nowhere and meant no contact for days.

“Yeah,” Dick said. “You know how he likes to show off. He asked for me to drop by today since you’d be out. There’s a lot going on, you know?”

Tim nodded, not having to read between the lines. The extent of the cartel issue made more sense now that he knew the Triad was involved, and Tim suspected that Bruce had been reluctant to leave with so much up in the air.

“Walk you to valet?” Tim offered, and Dick looked pleased, giving a genuine smile at the invitation. There were less ears on their way to the curb, and Tim could still feel eyes on him - as if the late-shifters were attempting to memorize his appearance since he looked so different outside of starched material.

Together, they strided to the front door. Dick leaned forward to prop it open, leaving Tim to turn back and wave goodbye to the eyes that followed. When he was sure his words would go unheard, Tim asked, “Do you need me tonight?”

It had been two nights since his injury, which was more than enough time to be considered well enough to get back on the job. He hadn’t forgotten about Jason, but he knew this Endrizzi business would run late.

“If you could cover first patrol, you’d be saving a life,” Dick admitted with a wistful sigh. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. By the time I realized I was hungry, this place had already sucked out my soul.”

Tim laughed. “Dramatic, much?”

“I dunno how you do it,” Dick replied. “That being said, Bruce won’t be in tomorrow. He wanted me to ask if you could fill in.”

As they rounded the corner to the valet desk and Dick retrieved his receipt from his wallet, Tim took the opportunity to dig his phone from his back pocket to navigate Bruce’s calendar.

Two hedge fund calls, an email reply to a state auditor, a new-hire tour and meet-and-greet. Nothing too taxing, though Tim wasn’t entirely sure what work he had to make up from missing both yesterday and today.

“So,” Dick said when he drifted back, digging hands in his pockets. He made an effort to watch the traffic beyond the lot, but only for a moment – and when his eyes found Tim’s, they were full of questions. “You and Jason, huh?”

Tim frowned. “Me and Jason what?”

Dick considered the question, searching Tim’s face before his lips folded to a smile. He abruptly seemed to decide the lot was more interesting. “Nothing.”

Dick’s car arrived before Tim could even feign curiosity and so he let the comment slide without a chase – immediately regretting it when Dick ruffled his hair, a habit he couldn’t seem to relinquish himself from.

“I’ll take over at 11. Sound good?” Dick asked, perfectly happy to let Tim jostle his hand away and take a cautious step back.

“Don’t be late,” Tim said, because he figured Jason would text by then. Dick straightened and saluted with all the seriousness he could muster, and then he was in his car and off to wherever he was staying while in town.

Tim watched traffic for a moment, debating on what he should eat before heading back to his apartment. In the garage, a white van drifted through, weaving other valet retrievals as if searching for an exit.

Tim watched, frowning.

In his hand, his phone buzzed, causing him to take a quick glance at the screen.

Might be finishing early, a text from Jason read.

In their line of work, early was relative.

Please, Tim texted. Take your time. I won’t be free until 11, and that’s if Dick’s not running late.

Boo, came Jason’s reply.

By the time Tim looked up again, the white van was gone. __________________________________________________________ A/N: Somewhere along the way, Roy became my fave character to write, LOL. I love how he picks on Jason, haha. Anywho, plot’s pickin’ up...