Fic: Names and Truths in Photographs; Tim Drake/Michael Holt; NC-17; Part 7/12
Title: Names and Truths in Photographs
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Part: 7/12
Pairing: Tim Drake/Michael Holt
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence. Grief. Angst. Smut. Also, I feel compelled to mention, this story also discusses Michael's suicide attempt. It's not a major plot point, but it's there.
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone's legal.
Word Count: 31,000ish
Author's Notes: Written for scifibigbang. Thanks for darkdanc3r for the beta and to lyanth for the fan art. You guys are awesome. <3
Summary: Elijah Steinmen, a friend of Michael Holt's, has run into some trouble. While trying to help Eli out of a bind, Michael runs into a bit of trouble himself. Trouble by the name of The Dark Hunter. AU, future fic. Slash.
Index Post
Chapter Seven
Michael's apartment was infinitely nicer than Tim's own. It was large, spacious, brightly lit and furnished in a sort of Danish Modern style. The carpets and drapes were a soft cream color and the art hanging on the wall was probably chosen by some decorator or another. It all looked very precise and neat.
Tim's apartment was the exact opposite. His was small and cramped. The view from single his window was that of a brick wall. Rather than Danish Modern, Tim's furnishing ran more towards Second Hand Shop with a liberal smattering of On Sale at Ikea.
It was the sort of place that gave Tim the irresistible urge to remove his shoes lest he track dirt anywhere. The sensation was unfamiliar and somewhat disconcerting.
The whole place had an un-lived in feel that put Tim on edge. It was as if it wasn't really a real house, it was actually more of a model for the realtor to show to prospective renters. Tim thought it had a lot to do with the fact all the decorating was done by a professional and that Michael was never ever here.
Tim had turned up on Michael's doorstep that morning hoping to throw the man off guard again. That impulse, to catch Michael wrong footed, might have turned into a bad habit. At first Tim did it to try to startle new information out of him. Now that Michael claimed he was perfectly willing to share any and all information he had at his disposal with Tim, there really wasn't a need to mess with the guy's head.
Unfortunately, Tim couldn't seem to help himself.
There was a certain titillation to completely throwing off a man who had as much self confidence as Michael Holt. Tim suspected the whole thing went hand in hand with the self satisfaction Tim got from beating up men three times his size.
Tim carefully arranged his facial features so that he looked mildly amused with Holt's housing arrangement. It wouldn't do to let the man know that Tim was both uncomfortable and having second thoughts about their team up.
Holt was wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt that fit his upper torso very snugly. His wasn't wearing shoes or socks and Tim found the man's long, bare feet to be very distracting. Tim trailed blithely after Holt, trying hard not to stare at his feet, into a small dining room that Holt was using for a home office.
Holt turned around and gave Tim a big smile.
"You can just toss your coat anywhere. I was just trying to better organize my data," he said cheerfully.
Tim just nodded and pulled off his winter cap. He pulled his bag off his shoulder and unwound his scarf before pulling his coat off. He hung all the items on the chair nearest him. When he looked up from this task he found Holt smiling at him with amusement.
"Yes?" he asked affecting supreme patience and a pointedly raised eyebrow.
"You really needed that heavy sweater and that coat?" Michael asked him, clearly merely seconds away from bursting into laughter.
Tim gave him an arch look.
"When you have the type of insulation I do in my suit, you grow accustomed to keeping out the elements rather well," he informed Michael with great dignity.
Then Michael did laugh.
It was a nice laugh, loud and full and rich. It came from deep inside Michael's chest and made his posture seem more open, somehow. It transformed his face into a bright and happy visage and Tim felt something in his belly do a flip flop.
"Now," he said briskly, giving Michael a faux quelling look, "I'm here to work, not to be laughed at. What have you got for me?"
They shared the information they had both gathered on their cases. Tim told Michael about his run in back in New York City with the men who were after the chemical cases. Then he explained about Cyril's friend. Michael then told Tim about a case he had run into in Philadelphia where the military prototypes were stolen from Cocan Industries.
It didn't take long for the two of them to decide that the cases has been farmed out to Tradesmen. It took even less time for them to agree that those Tradesmen were all being hired by the same person or persons. There was a clear connection between all the jobs, they just had to figure out what the connection was and what the goal of the people behind the whole thing could possibly be.
"I didn't think much of the chemicals being stolen at the time until I realized that Endders, Cyril's friend, had lost some lab equipment," Tim explained to Michael.
Michael nodded in understanding. "You think they're connected. You think the tech stolen and the chemicals are being used for the same job. A bigger one that could have larger repercussions."
"I do," Tim confirmed. "Now with this information you have about Cocan and the potentially military prototypes that were stolen, I'm even more concerned than I was before."
"Me too. I still haven't figured out what was taken. Cocan's reps are playing it close to the vest," Michael said frustrated.
"Well," Tim replied pulling out his communicator, "now that I have more information on the variety of crimes being committed for this hypothetical larger job, I'm going to widen my search perimeters."
"For what?" Michael asked, still looking annoyed.
"To see if other R&D focusing company has filed police reports lately. None of the things that have been stolen so far seen to fit together. You can't combine them and make a Super Death Ray or anything. There might have been more jobs that we missed because we just don't know where all we should be looking. The more information we have the easier it will be to figure out what the masterminds of this whole thing are after and what it is they intend," Tim explained and Michael nodded.
Tim input the information on the other two jobs into his search program. Michael gave him a code to access his own files and Tim fired up the program.
He and Michael spent the next hour going over, in close detail, everything about the three cases they had stepped into. Tim got the impression, as they worked, that Michael wanted to bring something else up. An idea, perhaps, that he wasn't entirely sure of.
Tim let it go, figuring Michael would explain the idea to him when it had formed fully in his head.
About two hours later Tim's communicator beeped. Michael glanced over at it in surprise. Tim reached for it and flicked it open.
"Search results. We have two other hits on R&D places," Tim said, trying to keep his excitement to a minimum. For the first time in what felt like weeks, Tim was sure he had the thread of this case. It was a sensation he knew well. A sensation he reveled in.
However, he didn't let that little subconscious certainty blind him.
"What does it say?" Michael asked intently.
"First hit was the night after you got to London. Estlabs in Minnesota was robbed and a pile of computer equipment was stolen. Second was two days ago Trentech in New Jersey was hit and some files were stolen," Tim summarized as he read quickly over the reports.
Michael narrowed his eyes. "What did the companies specialize in?"
Tim shrugged. "Technology and R&D is all the files say. It's deliberately vague. I bet they do a little bit of everything and don't want their competitors to know a bit of what they have their hands into."
Michael went quiet and pursed his lips. Tim re-read the files as Michael sat there and thought for a few long minutes.
"There's something else," Michael finally said and Tim nodded to indicate he should continue. Michael explained to Tim about Steintech and how it was his friend's embezzlement troubles that put Michael on alert to begin with.
"The way these things usually happen is this," Michael said, pushing firmly down on the table in front of them with both is index fingers, "one company will be hit and put everyone else on guard. Subsequently, everyone will see how that company was hit and beef up their security. The crooks need time to figure out how to get past the new security works. So they take their time and a few months later another place will be hit and the whole thing happens all over again."
Tim nodded, understanding. "You're saying the time frame is too fast. That these places were hit far too close to one another."
"Exactly," Michael confirmed.
"Ok, that makes sense to me but how does Steintech fit in? I mean, the day before I walked in on that score at Co-tech, Cyril's friend got hit. A few days after that, it was Cocan. Now it's Estlabs and Trentech. Those were all industrial robberies. Chemicals from Co-tech, lab equipment from Steintech and the prototypes from Cocan. Computers and files from Estlabs and Trentech. Embezzlement is a whole different thing, Michael," Tim said, sitting back in his chair and shaking his head in confusion.
Michael pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.
"It all just seems like too much of a coincidence that he would be hit around the same time everyone else is," Michael explained.
"You think the money is being used to fund whatever it is they're trying to make?" Tim asked uncertainly and Michael shook his head.
"I don't know," Michael replied hesitantly and they both thought about that for a bit.
Tim narrowed his eyes as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "What if we're looking at this from the wrong angle?"
"What do you mean?" Michael asked, looking up at him.
"What if we're looking at this from a 'what was stolen' perspective rather than a 'what was the result' perspective?" Tim suggested hesitantly. "We're trying too hard to figure out what they will do and are completely neglecting what they have done, already."
"The result was a robbery," Michael pointed out in a slow and condescending tone.
Tim ignored it and shook his head. "No, the result was a security breach. For all of them."
Understanding lit up Holt's features. "You're saying the whole point to this was to call their security systems into question?"
"Yes," Tim confirmed and they both shared a smug smile for a moment.
"No wait," Michael broke in before they got too self satisfied. "Why would that be important?"
Tim shrugged. "To have the employees and stock holders lose confidence in the company. That would knock down stock prices. Or to get certain high level officials fired so they could get someone they wanted in their place. Or to get them to beef up their security, as you put it, and change to a system that they knew better. It could be any number of things."
"To make people lose confidence in the company," Michael whispered and when Tim looked into his face he could see Michael thinking furiously.
"What have you got?" he asked eagerly.
"Steintech was up for a government contract. I wasn't supposed to know, but Eli told me about it," Michael explained to Tim and then Tim got it as well.
"Cyril's friend was up for a government contract too," Tim said quietly.
Michael nodded quickly, "and Cocan is well known for working with the military..."
"Three out of six is not a coincidence," Tim said firmly. "How can we confirm that the rest of these businesses were up for contract with the government as well?"
Michael rushed out of the room and returned, triumphantly, with a cell phone in hand. He grinned at Tim and punched in a number.
"Commander Waller?" Michael said into the mouth piece after a moment. "It's me."
Michael's conversation with Waller was short. It wasn't long before Michael was checking with his Tspheres for the information Waller sent.
"All six are on a list to do updates for the White House computer security systems," Michael showed Tim the read out eagerly.
"I bet none of them are on that list anymore," Tim ventured and Michael nodded.
"Yes, their bids were rejected," Michael explained.
"When's the time frame for this? I mean when will they make a decision?" Tim asked.
"Next Wednesday, Waller said. There are fifteen names left on the list," Michael replied.
"What do you think it means?" Tim asked. "I mean, we figured out the connection but why would someone want to knock these companies off the bidders list?"
"I don't think we'll know until we figure out who's hiring these people to do these jobs," Michael replied in frustration. "It's pointless to speculate without any solid facts."
"So, we find the people doing the hiring," Tim stated simply.
"How?" Michael asked, exasperated.
"Easy, we follow the Tradesmen," Tim explained.
"We don't have any of the Tradesmen they got away clean, remember?" Michael pointed out.
"They got away clean on the first six jobs. Not the seventh," Tim replied smugly and grinned at Michael.
"There was no seventh job," Michael shot back.
"No, not yet," Tim agreed. "But there will be."
"You're saying we watch the holdings of fifteen companies in a dozen different states and wait for one of them to get hit?" Michael asked incredulously.
Tim shook his head. "No, I say we narrow it down to a few possibilities. The top three. The three companies you think that the government will most likely accept the bids from. Then we keep our eyes on their most valuable bit of real estate. Chances are, it's going to be one of them."
Michael nodded and grabbed his cell phone from the table. "That sounds reasonable. I'll call Waller back and ask for her input on this. I think she's as worried as we are now that she knows what's going on."
Tim stretched, arching his back and popping a few vertebrae back into place. "Tell her 'The Dark Hunter' says 'hello'," Tim said tiredly, giving his new code name dramatic intonations.
Michael grinned at him. "Not a chance."
Tim smiled back at him. "Worried she'll think you're keeping bad company?" Tim teased.
"Something like that," Michael replied.
"Would you say that I'm corrupting you Mr. Terrific?" Tim asked and tilted his mouth suggestively.
Michael was trying hard not to smile at him.
"I'd say there's a good chance you'd try if I ever gave you the opportunity," Michael answered.
"I think I'm wounded," Tim said with faux indignation. Michael laughed and punched in Waller's number for the second time. He walked over to the large plate glass window in the living area in his apartment. He stood in front of it looking out as he talked with Waller and Tim watched.
It was becoming frighteningly apparent to Tim that his impulse to tease and goad Holt stemmed from something altogether different than his tendency towards one-up-mans-ship. He felt a bit like a kindergartner pulling the hair of a girl he liked.
He couldn't seem to help the impulse though. It was natural and easy to tease Michael.
The worst part was, Michael seemed to like it and the last thing Tim needed right now was encouragement. Michael clearly didn't even realize what, exactly, he was encouraging.
It was probably best to back off.
No more teasing it's a bad precedent, Tim promised himself, and he almost meant it.
Chapter Eight
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Part: 7/12
Pairing: Tim Drake/Michael Holt
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Violence. Grief. Angst. Smut. Also, I feel compelled to mention, this story also discusses Michael's suicide attempt. It's not a major plot point, but it's there.
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone's legal.
Word Count: 31,000ish
Author's Notes: Written for scifibigbang. Thanks for darkdanc3r for the beta and to lyanth for the fan art. You guys are awesome. <3
Summary: Elijah Steinmen, a friend of Michael Holt's, has run into some trouble. While trying to help Eli out of a bind, Michael runs into a bit of trouble himself. Trouble by the name of The Dark Hunter. AU, future fic. Slash.
Index Post
Chapter Seven
Michael's apartment was infinitely nicer than Tim's own. It was large, spacious, brightly lit and furnished in a sort of Danish Modern style. The carpets and drapes were a soft cream color and the art hanging on the wall was probably chosen by some decorator or another. It all looked very precise and neat.
Tim's apartment was the exact opposite. His was small and cramped. The view from single his window was that of a brick wall. Rather than Danish Modern, Tim's furnishing ran more towards Second Hand Shop with a liberal smattering of On Sale at Ikea.
It was the sort of place that gave Tim the irresistible urge to remove his shoes lest he track dirt anywhere. The sensation was unfamiliar and somewhat disconcerting.
The whole place had an un-lived in feel that put Tim on edge. It was as if it wasn't really a real house, it was actually more of a model for the realtor to show to prospective renters. Tim thought it had a lot to do with the fact all the decorating was done by a professional and that Michael was never ever here.
Tim had turned up on Michael's doorstep that morning hoping to throw the man off guard again. That impulse, to catch Michael wrong footed, might have turned into a bad habit. At first Tim did it to try to startle new information out of him. Now that Michael claimed he was perfectly willing to share any and all information he had at his disposal with Tim, there really wasn't a need to mess with the guy's head.
Unfortunately, Tim couldn't seem to help himself.
There was a certain titillation to completely throwing off a man who had as much self confidence as Michael Holt. Tim suspected the whole thing went hand in hand with the self satisfaction Tim got from beating up men three times his size.
Tim carefully arranged his facial features so that he looked mildly amused with Holt's housing arrangement. It wouldn't do to let the man know that Tim was both uncomfortable and having second thoughts about their team up.
Holt was wearing a pair of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt that fit his upper torso very snugly. His wasn't wearing shoes or socks and Tim found the man's long, bare feet to be very distracting. Tim trailed blithely after Holt, trying hard not to stare at his feet, into a small dining room that Holt was using for a home office.
Holt turned around and gave Tim a big smile.
"You can just toss your coat anywhere. I was just trying to better organize my data," he said cheerfully.
Tim just nodded and pulled off his winter cap. He pulled his bag off his shoulder and unwound his scarf before pulling his coat off. He hung all the items on the chair nearest him. When he looked up from this task he found Holt smiling at him with amusement.
"Yes?" he asked affecting supreme patience and a pointedly raised eyebrow.
"You really needed that heavy sweater and that coat?" Michael asked him, clearly merely seconds away from bursting into laughter.
Tim gave him an arch look.
"When you have the type of insulation I do in my suit, you grow accustomed to keeping out the elements rather well," he informed Michael with great dignity.
Then Michael did laugh.
It was a nice laugh, loud and full and rich. It came from deep inside Michael's chest and made his posture seem more open, somehow. It transformed his face into a bright and happy visage and Tim felt something in his belly do a flip flop.
"Now," he said briskly, giving Michael a faux quelling look, "I'm here to work, not to be laughed at. What have you got for me?"
They shared the information they had both gathered on their cases. Tim told Michael about his run in back in New York City with the men who were after the chemical cases. Then he explained about Cyril's friend. Michael then told Tim about a case he had run into in Philadelphia where the military prototypes were stolen from Cocan Industries.
It didn't take long for the two of them to decide that the cases has been farmed out to Tradesmen. It took even less time for them to agree that those Tradesmen were all being hired by the same person or persons. There was a clear connection between all the jobs, they just had to figure out what the connection was and what the goal of the people behind the whole thing could possibly be.
"I didn't think much of the chemicals being stolen at the time until I realized that Endders, Cyril's friend, had lost some lab equipment," Tim explained to Michael.
Michael nodded in understanding. "You think they're connected. You think the tech stolen and the chemicals are being used for the same job. A bigger one that could have larger repercussions."
"I do," Tim confirmed. "Now with this information you have about Cocan and the potentially military prototypes that were stolen, I'm even more concerned than I was before."
"Me too. I still haven't figured out what was taken. Cocan's reps are playing it close to the vest," Michael said frustrated.
"Well," Tim replied pulling out his communicator, "now that I have more information on the variety of crimes being committed for this hypothetical larger job, I'm going to widen my search perimeters."
"For what?" Michael asked, still looking annoyed.
"To see if other R&D focusing company has filed police reports lately. None of the things that have been stolen so far seen to fit together. You can't combine them and make a Super Death Ray or anything. There might have been more jobs that we missed because we just don't know where all we should be looking. The more information we have the easier it will be to figure out what the masterminds of this whole thing are after and what it is they intend," Tim explained and Michael nodded.
Tim input the information on the other two jobs into his search program. Michael gave him a code to access his own files and Tim fired up the program.
He and Michael spent the next hour going over, in close detail, everything about the three cases they had stepped into. Tim got the impression, as they worked, that Michael wanted to bring something else up. An idea, perhaps, that he wasn't entirely sure of.
Tim let it go, figuring Michael would explain the idea to him when it had formed fully in his head.
About two hours later Tim's communicator beeped. Michael glanced over at it in surprise. Tim reached for it and flicked it open.
"Search results. We have two other hits on R&D places," Tim said, trying to keep his excitement to a minimum. For the first time in what felt like weeks, Tim was sure he had the thread of this case. It was a sensation he knew well. A sensation he reveled in.
However, he didn't let that little subconscious certainty blind him.
"What does it say?" Michael asked intently.
"First hit was the night after you got to London. Estlabs in Minnesota was robbed and a pile of computer equipment was stolen. Second was two days ago Trentech in New Jersey was hit and some files were stolen," Tim summarized as he read quickly over the reports.
Michael narrowed his eyes. "What did the companies specialize in?"
Tim shrugged. "Technology and R&D is all the files say. It's deliberately vague. I bet they do a little bit of everything and don't want their competitors to know a bit of what they have their hands into."
Michael went quiet and pursed his lips. Tim re-read the files as Michael sat there and thought for a few long minutes.
"There's something else," Michael finally said and Tim nodded to indicate he should continue. Michael explained to Tim about Steintech and how it was his friend's embezzlement troubles that put Michael on alert to begin with.
"The way these things usually happen is this," Michael said, pushing firmly down on the table in front of them with both is index fingers, "one company will be hit and put everyone else on guard. Subsequently, everyone will see how that company was hit and beef up their security. The crooks need time to figure out how to get past the new security works. So they take their time and a few months later another place will be hit and the whole thing happens all over again."
Tim nodded, understanding. "You're saying the time frame is too fast. That these places were hit far too close to one another."
"Exactly," Michael confirmed.
"Ok, that makes sense to me but how does Steintech fit in? I mean, the day before I walked in on that score at Co-tech, Cyril's friend got hit. A few days after that, it was Cocan. Now it's Estlabs and Trentech. Those were all industrial robberies. Chemicals from Co-tech, lab equipment from Steintech and the prototypes from Cocan. Computers and files from Estlabs and Trentech. Embezzlement is a whole different thing, Michael," Tim said, sitting back in his chair and shaking his head in confusion.
Michael pursed his lips and looked thoughtful.
"It all just seems like too much of a coincidence that he would be hit around the same time everyone else is," Michael explained.
"You think the money is being used to fund whatever it is they're trying to make?" Tim asked uncertainly and Michael shook his head.
"I don't know," Michael replied hesitantly and they both thought about that for a bit.
Tim narrowed his eyes as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "What if we're looking at this from the wrong angle?"
"What do you mean?" Michael asked, looking up at him.
"What if we're looking at this from a 'what was stolen' perspective rather than a 'what was the result' perspective?" Tim suggested hesitantly. "We're trying too hard to figure out what they will do and are completely neglecting what they have done, already."
"The result was a robbery," Michael pointed out in a slow and condescending tone.
Tim ignored it and shook his head. "No, the result was a security breach. For all of them."
Understanding lit up Holt's features. "You're saying the whole point to this was to call their security systems into question?"
"Yes," Tim confirmed and they both shared a smug smile for a moment.
"No wait," Michael broke in before they got too self satisfied. "Why would that be important?"
Tim shrugged. "To have the employees and stock holders lose confidence in the company. That would knock down stock prices. Or to get certain high level officials fired so they could get someone they wanted in their place. Or to get them to beef up their security, as you put it, and change to a system that they knew better. It could be any number of things."
"To make people lose confidence in the company," Michael whispered and when Tim looked into his face he could see Michael thinking furiously.
"What have you got?" he asked eagerly.
"Steintech was up for a government contract. I wasn't supposed to know, but Eli told me about it," Michael explained to Tim and then Tim got it as well.
"Cyril's friend was up for a government contract too," Tim said quietly.
Michael nodded quickly, "and Cocan is well known for working with the military..."
"Three out of six is not a coincidence," Tim said firmly. "How can we confirm that the rest of these businesses were up for contract with the government as well?"
Michael rushed out of the room and returned, triumphantly, with a cell phone in hand. He grinned at Tim and punched in a number.
"Commander Waller?" Michael said into the mouth piece after a moment. "It's me."
Michael's conversation with Waller was short. It wasn't long before Michael was checking with his Tspheres for the information Waller sent.
"All six are on a list to do updates for the White House computer security systems," Michael showed Tim the read out eagerly.
"I bet none of them are on that list anymore," Tim ventured and Michael nodded.
"Yes, their bids were rejected," Michael explained.
"When's the time frame for this? I mean when will they make a decision?" Tim asked.
"Next Wednesday, Waller said. There are fifteen names left on the list," Michael replied.
"What do you think it means?" Tim asked. "I mean, we figured out the connection but why would someone want to knock these companies off the bidders list?"
"I don't think we'll know until we figure out who's hiring these people to do these jobs," Michael replied in frustration. "It's pointless to speculate without any solid facts."
"So, we find the people doing the hiring," Tim stated simply.
"How?" Michael asked, exasperated.
"Easy, we follow the Tradesmen," Tim explained.
"We don't have any of the Tradesmen they got away clean, remember?" Michael pointed out.
"They got away clean on the first six jobs. Not the seventh," Tim replied smugly and grinned at Michael.
"There was no seventh job," Michael shot back.
"No, not yet," Tim agreed. "But there will be."
"You're saying we watch the holdings of fifteen companies in a dozen different states and wait for one of them to get hit?" Michael asked incredulously.
Tim shook his head. "No, I say we narrow it down to a few possibilities. The top three. The three companies you think that the government will most likely accept the bids from. Then we keep our eyes on their most valuable bit of real estate. Chances are, it's going to be one of them."
Michael nodded and grabbed his cell phone from the table. "That sounds reasonable. I'll call Waller back and ask for her input on this. I think she's as worried as we are now that she knows what's going on."
Tim stretched, arching his back and popping a few vertebrae back into place. "Tell her 'The Dark Hunter' says 'hello'," Tim said tiredly, giving his new code name dramatic intonations.
Michael grinned at him. "Not a chance."
Tim smiled back at him. "Worried she'll think you're keeping bad company?" Tim teased.
"Something like that," Michael replied.
"Would you say that I'm corrupting you Mr. Terrific?" Tim asked and tilted his mouth suggestively.
Michael was trying hard not to smile at him.
"I'd say there's a good chance you'd try if I ever gave you the opportunity," Michael answered.
"I think I'm wounded," Tim said with faux indignation. Michael laughed and punched in Waller's number for the second time. He walked over to the large plate glass window in the living area in his apartment. He stood in front of it looking out as he talked with Waller and Tim watched.
It was becoming frighteningly apparent to Tim that his impulse to tease and goad Holt stemmed from something altogether different than his tendency towards one-up-mans-ship. He felt a bit like a kindergartner pulling the hair of a girl he liked.
He couldn't seem to help the impulse though. It was natural and easy to tease Michael.
The worst part was, Michael seemed to like it and the last thing Tim needed right now was encouragement. Michael clearly didn't even realize what, exactly, he was encouraging.
It was probably best to back off.
No more teasing it's a bad precedent, Tim promised himself, and he almost meant it.
Chapter Eight