2019-08-01 - First Date In Three Years

Summary:

Tim finally works up the courage to talk with Stephanie about something.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Thu Aug 1 01:12:29 2019
Location: New York University

Related Logs

None

Theme Song

None

stephanie-browntim-drake

It's a nice, warm morning, and Tim and Stephanie have lucked into both having a break between classes. So right now, they sit together out on the grass between some of the buildings, grabbing a little while together. Tim has his phone out again, but it only takes half his attention. The other half has him looking across to Stephanie, an intense look in those blue eyes. She's seen that look before; it's the kind of intensity he gets when he's forming a plan. Usually a battle plan, but let's hope that's not the case here.


The food on offer today was sandwiches Stephanie had packed from the Mansion. Alfred made them, and she took extras because That College Life Tho'! Sandwiches, water from the vending machines and the splurge of the day, potato chips, complete the impromptu picnic eary lunch.

With Tim's phone out, Stephanie's got her notes on her lap, chewing and rereading until that intense gaze is felt. The blonde glances up. Blue eyes meet blue eyes. Stephanie's eyes narrow as she studies that look for a half second. She turns away to reach for her drink, using the motion of that and of taking a drink to do a very quick scan of the area before looking back to her notes.

"… …We are not going to break into Dr. Green's office for a look at the next lecture's notes, Tim," she finally says, her voice soft and low and conspiratorial, eyes back on her notes but attention on him out of the corner of her eyes.


"No, it's not—" Tim looks up, making doubly sure that no passersby heard that. Not that they'd read much into it if they did. Plenty of Perfectly Ordinary students get the wacky idea of hunting for every possible advantage. Secret identities are safe.

Tim sets his phone aside and rubs the bridge of his nose. "I'm just trying to think of how to do something."

Figuring out each step of an investigation to rule out possibilities and always come out with another new lead? He can do that. Planning a survival fight against a group of super-assassins all intent on him? He can do that too. But whatever he's got on his mind right now has him a wholly different kind of tense.


Stephanie giggles at the fact that Tim's first reaction was to look around to see if anyone heard her. She'd already done that, and then gone with a topic that most university students, especially Freshman, would try. Given her appearance, it was a safe bet that if anyone had heard her, they'd have chalked it up to freshmen being freshmen. She takes a bite of sandwich and looks up as he confesses what he's up to. Mostly.

"Okay," she drawls out, finishing that bite and giving him his full attention. "Can I help at all? Sounding board, maybe?" she offers. After the initial arguements of getting her to let him and the Bats help her with her father, Stephanie actively works to be as helpful as possible to the team (because Family sounds very Criminal Organization today).

Of course, the offer comes with her not sure she really CAN offer to help in any significant way, but being a sounding board and letting him talk himself through it might be just the thing he needs. Afterall, Stephanie is under no illusion that she is in any way smarter than Tim.


Being so smart is the product of an awful lot of thinking… and when something's important, he thinks even more about it, cycling over and over into just, well, overthinking. He sets his phone back into his pocket and curls fowards, elbows on knees and chin on lifted hands. "Sounding board…" He thinks about it, and shakes his head. "It's about something that, I just realise, we haven't discussed since I got back. Even putting it into words to make you into a sounding board would be enough that the beans would be spilled anyway." Oh dear. Is this a… We Need To Have A Talk kinds of things?

He swoops forwards, leaving his Gendo posture to grab her hand and lift it. "Stephanie Brown." He takes a breath. As much as he's trained to be agile, to evade and flank and treat any combat like a dance, sometimes the direct approach is the only approach. Sometimes, you just have to take the bull by the horns.

"Will you go out with me?"


Stephanie watches him think about it, as if she could ever learn to think about things the way he thinks about things. Which is something that derails the moment he lets her know that her being a sounding board would spill the beans, as if what he was thinking about was a bigger secret that their mutual night life.

The thing is, Tim's not the only one capable of over thinking.

Stephanie's thoughts kick into overdrive in the pause before he swoops forward. They really hadn't talked about Them since he got back. She'd spent the months avoinding thinking about him while simultaneously looking forward to each and every text and Skype call. To have conversations with him that were 'normal', about the every day things and not just ways to skirt about their alter egos was thrilling and wonderful and Steph was not at all smitten harded.

Don't you dare call her a liar about that last bit. She'll have to punch you.

It's in that heartbeat before he takes her hand that a million fears and worries shoot through her, thoughts racing faster than a speedster. 'He found someone else, in Paris. She's a baker's daughter, and bakes better cookies than I do, and he's completely in love with her, and as soon as he's done with his degree here, he's done with being a bat and he'll be moving back to France and-' The sound of her name and the feel of his hand puts a hard stop on her tumbling thoughts.

-Will you go out with me?-

The question has Stephanie's breath returning to her in almost an explosion fashion. Notes forgotten, Steph tips toward him as if her first reaction was to throw herself at him for a hug. But there are people and a sandwich in her hand that might get all over him and she reins herself in.

"Yes," is the squeak of an answer, cheeks pink and lower lip bitten down upon.


It's true; they haven't talked about Them since his return. There had been other things, like getting her settled into the mansion, or studying, or meeting a new younger brother, or fighting a bunch of street punks off a blond warlock who totally asked for it. Tim had readily settled into being physically present again, into working beside her in their multitude of ways, but they hadn't talked.

He tenses for a split-second as she moves towards him. But no, no, the pattern of muscle tension isn't what it would be if she was going to slap him.

Her answer makes him let out a breath of relief. "I just… realised that I hadn't actually asked. When I got back, I just sort of assumed that we'd pick things back up. But a few years is a long time to just assume, so I realised I had to ask, and then the question was how to ask, and—" He could keep cycling like this for a while.


That was still a thing. Being settled into Wayne Manor. So much of her still felt out of place. Everyone else seemed so comfortble with the wealth and the opulance there. She was some nobody. There was a sense that if she touched anything in that house, it'd be thrown away because it was dirty from peasant hands. Her own head getting in the way. His sigh of relief has her smilng again, and hearing him over thinking it makes her squeeze her hand around his.

"Tim. Tim! TIM," she has to repeat to get him to stop, to slow down, to breathe.

"Thank you. For not just assuming. And for asking. It was perfect," she says, hoping that reassures him.


That squeeze starts pulling Tim out of his spiral, but it's her repetition of his name that actually gets to him. After that, he finally does stop, and gives her a smile. "Thank you for saying yes. So, our first real date in years. Where do we get started with that? Just dinner and a show?" Just as long as they don't go to a theatre. The family has bad history with evenings at the theatre.


Yeah. No theatres. Besides, how do you even ACT at a theatre? Is it like a movie theatre? Steph has no idea.

"Our first real date. I.. I kinda like that idea," Stephanie admits, cheeks still a delicate pink. She turns to set her sandwich down on the paper plate she packed before dusting her hand on her blue jeans.

"We could," she starts, turning back and reaching to tak his other hand. God, but does it feel good to hold his hand again!

"I'm just worried about it getting cut short by an emergency if we start too late. My last class today ends at twelve thirty. I was thinking about napping for a bit, but that's still early enough to catch something on the matinee? Like… one of the Disney remakes?"


You don't act at a theatre. That's what the performers are for. You watch at a theatre and leave the acting to the professionals.

Tim grins, his stance much more relaxed now that crisis has been averted. He squeezes both of her hands. "If it gets cut short, it gets cut short. Besides, an emergency with you would be pretty nostalgic." Given Red Robin and Spoiler met before Tim and Stephanie. "I still have classes until almost two. But after that, definitely." Pause. "…so can I kiss you now, or should we save that question for the date?"


"Right?" Stephanie chirps back, a giggle in her voice and a blush on her cheeks. It would be nostalgic, starting a movie and then having to rush off because a lead finally turned up something.

"After, sounds perfect," she says, the blush deepening when he just charges head long into the next thing that wasn't talked about. Of course, they are officially dating again, so kissing is something that happens. Still, Stephanie's cheeks darken and her eyes almost roll.

"Now. Just in case there's… you know… an emergency?" The answer given with a tuck of chin, and her eyes peeking out from under her bangs.


Tim's smile spreads wider and warmer when she blushes, she tucks her chin, when she almost hides behind her bangs. The look in his eyes shows he'd really like an affirmative, but he waits until he hears it. The moment she speaks, he squeezes both her hands and leans in smoothly. His lips are a little mis-aimed at first, before he gets them settled as they should be. By the feel of things, kissing is one thing where he hasn't been keeping in practice, though he tries to make up for it with enthusiasm.


Stephanie bites at her lower lip as Tim starts to lean in. She leans forward as well, meeting him halfway, and sighing into their first kiss in far too long. The lack of practice, while noted because batlings are trained to notice everything, is not one sided. Stephanie hasn't been practicing either.

With a sigh and a humn, Stephanie melts into the kiss, scooting closer so her hands can untangle from his and slide up to wrap around his neck.


Tim thinks the same thing in the same moment. Fingers leave their linking, and he puts his hands on her — one on the side of her arm, the other wrapped loosely about her shoulders. A moment later, he breaks off for breath, a fresh brightness in his smile when he looks at her. "Been looking forward to that for like three years."


Kiss broken, Stephanie sucks in a breath as her eyes open and take a moment to focus on Tim's face. When he admits what she'd been feeling, she giggles brightly. The sound light and airy and filled with relief.

"I thought I was the only one," is set between them, a shared bit of want that's born fruit.


In stark contrast with his earlier nerves, Tim seems utterly at ease now. An important question has been answered in exactly the ways he'd hoped. He runs his fingers idly along her back, and just… relaxes. "You're never the only one." And that goes for all sorts of things. Yes, he wants to be with her just as much as she wants to be with him. And just generally, she's not alone: she's part of a big, extended, criminal-punching family, and they support one another.


Which is still something Stephanie has yet to get her head wrapped around fully; the idea that there's this big extended family and that they've got her back in more than just making sure her father stays behind bars.

With Tim relaxing, Stephanie does too, smiling and shifting so that hand on her back slides to her opposite shoulder. Wrapped up on his arms as she'd been wanting, Stephanie can't help but smile.

"Thank you," she says, the tone carrying what she's thankful for. His friendship, his mentorship, his understanding, his thoughtfulness, him. And reminding her that she really isn't completely alone, not that she's really gone to the rest of the family for anything more than more items for her patrol since he's been gone, but him walking her around the manor like they belong is… it helped.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License