Thirdbiird

       “M’am, can I help you?”

        There’s this woman following him and while he can deal with anything that comes along, he’d preferred not to throw down with a (thirty-something?) women--was it even right to speculate on a woman’s age in his head?--in broad daylight. 

she shouldn’t be feeling this happy–relieved–from hearing a thank you. but, hey, it’d been painfully hard to even let herself acknowledge that she does need protection every once in a while. maybe he sees the amount of effort she’s putting into admitting it aloud.

the words ‘you’re welcome’ itch at the tip of her tongue, pleading to come out; but by some stronger force, steph manages to keep them to herself. no need to ruin this little moment they’re having with her cockiness. not tonight. and it’s nice to know she still has plenty of self-restrain to spare in herself.

the question catches her a little of guard; she’d been half-expecting to go solo tonight after… that. but it’s not unwelcome. her surprise quickly shifts into something different, and she’s smirking more than smiling when she gives tim’s hand a rather formal shake.

“only if i get to drive.”

steph leaves no room to argue. as soon as the words left her, she’s already striding towards the garage.

        Tim rolls his eyes, but he secretly (not so secretly) loves every moment of  it. Steph takes control of the situation and he just follows in her wake. It’s like when he was Robin and she was Spoiler. The girl with the street smarts and the boy too smart for his own good. Tim always followed her then, unsure of where he fit into his life. 

         Not much has changed, actually. 

          “That’s fine, but you get to fight the Big Guy.” 

                good god, she doesn’t miss the SLIP.  the kid’s about as obvious as the GAPING HOLE in gotham’s legal sector.  the nervousness that trespasses over his features. she has to force back a more than amused ROLL OF HER EYES. he’s too easy to read, TRUST HER.  she’s had plenty of experience. they’d made the awful, AWFUL, AWFUL mistake of trying SECRET SANTA one year. (  did she mention how AWFUL it was ???  )   it took babs  less than fifteen words, && a grand total of two minutes alone with him to fish out who got her.   never again. NEVER AGAIN. it’s pointless when certain PEOPLE just use it as an excuse to anonymously give inappropriate gifts.  (  there was broken objects. damaged ribs. yelling.  )   

          ❛    oh great  !   just what i wanna be doing on a thursday afternoon. shove over, i’ll watch with you, bird boy   ❜    she quips, much too his horror,  far too enthusiastic. purely to gross him. she could shove him over if she wanted. but what’s the point when that chair of hers, that he’s so happily gotten all COMFY in, has WHEELS.  hence the reason the boy wonder has suddenly found himself SLIDING towards the other side of the room.    ❛   porn, my ass,  ❜  she mutters. yea, there’s a phrase she could’ve happily gone without saying in her lifetime.   ❛   you’re using my arkham surveillance feed, drake   ?    — —  why  ?   ❜  big sister voice activated. 

       WHOOP. She shoves Tim’s chair (her chair, whatever) over into a corner of the dark room. He loses the outline of his own body, but Barbara shines brightly in the computer’s blue light. 

        He’s faster than she gives him credit for, though. Tim palms the thumbdrive he had hidden from her even as she questions him. Really, he could leave now. Again, he would risk the beating of two lifetimes if she finds out he stole intel from her, but he could. He’s just not stupid. 

        “That’s gross, Barb! What if I had been watching porn?” 

        Tim easily sidesteps the question. They’re both Bat-trained, no matter how much she likes to pretend he’s still a little boy. He can evade with the best of them. Not even Big Sister voice could rattle him. 

        Much. 

        “You know, the Big Guy was asking for you.”