Fic: After the Dust Settles: 7/8; Tim/Jaime; PG-13
Title: After the Dust Settles
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Pairing: Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle III)/Tim Drake (Robin III)
Rating: R
Warnings: overall- sex, violence, angst, the gay
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone's legal
Word Count: 3,000ish
Summary: Batman's gone. :( Timmy's all alone. :(( Jaime thinks Timmy needs a friend. :D
Table of Contents
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Jaime was fast asleep next to him when Tim woke up the next morning. The bed was slightly over-warm and Jaime was drooling on his favorite pillow.
Tim stifled a groan and closed his eyes again, willing the dull ache in his head to dissipate. Only he could manage to have all the pain, awkwardness and drool of a ‘morning after’ with out having reaped the benefits of the ‘night before’.
He needed pain killers and some water but was loathe to climb out of bed. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off with any measure of grace and the resulting stumble would almost certainly wake Jaime. That wasn’t something Tim wanted just yet.
He needed a few minutes to collect his thoughts and figure out how, exactly, he was going to play things out with Jaime.
After spending a good five minutes muzzily thinking himself in circles, Tim decided that a shower was in order to clear his head. Tim sat up determinedly and tossed his sleeping bed partner a dirty look. He crawled to the foot of the bed, climbed over his dresser and onto the floor. Jaime mumbled slightly in his sleep, but didn’t wake. He only turned over and nuzzled Tim’s favorite pillow, smearing more drool over the pillow case.
Tim grimaced, sighed and padded into the bathroom.
Aside from the pillow drool and getting him shot that one time, Tim reflected as he pulled his sleep shirt up over his head, Jaime wasn’t a bad guy. Tim actually enjoyed working with him. He was a quick study, and seemed to remember most of what he learned. He was fun too. Not in the same way Ted and Kon were fun, but in his own way. He had a wry sense of humor that appealed to Tim and he could stay focused when Tim needed him to.
Jaime had made a ton of progress over the year or so that Tim had been working with him. Tim couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pride when he watched Jaime put together the case against the art thieves. He was proving to be a great detective and was certainly doing Ted’s name justice.
Tim flicked on the taps to the shower and undressed. He brushed his teeth as he waited for the water in the shower to warm. When he finally stepped behind the curtain and under the spray the water did little to dispel the groggy feeling that was dogging him.
As Tim shook his head back and forth vigorously and fought back a yawn it, occurred to him with a dull dread that he had forgotten to remind Jaime to call his mother. He groaned and leaned forward to press his head against the wall of the shower stall.
She was going to kill him. Possibly both of them.
The thing was, to know Jaime was to know his family. You couldn’t have one without the other, not even when he was being a superhero. He quoted wisdom imparted to him by his father during battle and fretted over his mother scolding him for something or other. When they were off duty he complained about his sister in ways that made it clear that, while she annoyed him from time to time, he really did love her a lot.
When Tim had started working with Jaime more and more, helping him learn about his own city and region, Jaime had introduced Tim to his family. It had been something of a shock. He imagined what he felt was similar to what immigrants experienced when they arrived in a completely new country and had to either sink or swim.
Tim was pretty sure he had sunk.
Jaime’s father had told him that he was too quiet. Jaime’s mother had told him he was too skinny. Jaime’s sister had told him that Batman dumb because he didn't have superpowers.
The worst part was, Tim could not even defend himself. They were all right. Well, all of them except Milagro, but she was a true believer and it would probably take quite a bit to convince her that Batman was cooler than all the metas put together.
They had fed him, fussed over him and asked him questions. Most of which he could not answer. They didn’t seem to mind. Whenever he dodged a question, Jaime’s father would give him an understanding look and his mother would ruffle his hair.
It was bizarre.
It was also kind of fun.
He felt like Jane Goodall, only rather than studying gorillas he was studying well-adjusted families. He would give bemused reports on the meetings to Babs who laughed at him and suggested he write a dissertation on the subject for the rest of the Bats. He was almost sure she was kidding.
Ever since meeting Jaime’s family he had begun to enjoy listening to him speak about them more and more. Before, he would have been annoyed or bored with the chatter, confidant that he knew everything that he needed to know about the Reyes family. Now, he liked to hear about the things Milagro got up to or the little bits of wisdom Jaime’s father imparted to him. He most especially liked to hear about the people Jaime’s mother scolded in the supermarket.
Tim was pretty sure Jaime’s mother was a force of nature.
It amazed Tim how easily they let him slip into their life. It was as if he was not a cape, like he hadn’t been working with Batman since he was twelve. They acted as if he was just another of Jaime’s friends, come to visit. It was like he was seventeen and stupid, in the need of constant sustenance and constant supervision lest he do something irresponsible.
It would have been surreal if it didn’t feel so simple and easy.
Jaime, for his part, didn’t see anything unusual about the way his family treated Tim. He reacted with the same embarrassment any teenager had for their parents or younger sibling, with an underlying sense of affection and resignation and none of the resentment.
Tim rinsed shampoo from his hair and finished scrubbing off. He stood under the spray for several moments, rinsing off the suds and dreading waking Jaime up to call his mother.
Jaime would be even more panicked than Tim.
Tim was a little scared of her after only knowing her a few months. Poor Jaime had been conditioned since birth.
Jaime would be jumpy and stressed the whole way back to El Paso.
Tim sighed and decided that there was no point in trying to avoid the inevitable. He flicked off the taps and stepped out of the tub. He grabbed his towel from the rack and rubbed at his wet hair.
Jaime was a rather baffling mixture of easy going and high strung. He liked to take his time, think things through and have a little fun. However, there were a lot of things Jaime was very serious about.
He was serious about school. He had told Tim that he wanted to get into a good school and be a dentist when he grew up. He got good grades and tried hard and while he claimed he wasn’t that bright, Tim could see otherwise. Jaime was not Ted Kord, not by a long shot, but he was inventive and creative. Even under pressure.
Jaime was serious about his friends. He was determined to keep the safe and to keep them involved in his life. He was determined to see that they were happy and in Brenda’s case he was determined to see her through the grief and loss she was suffering. Jaime didn’t talk much about Brenda. Tim was pretty sure he sensed how uncomfortable the topic was for Tim. Tim was grateful and wondered if Jaime considered him one of the friends he was serious about protecting. Tim wasn’t sure.
Jaime was also serious about Blue Beetle. He fought as best he could, learned as much as he could manage and obsessed endlessly whenever he screwed up. Tim could empathize. He had been the same way when he first started out as Robin. Every failure seemed unforgivable, no matter how minor.
Tim had tried hard to teach Jaime about acceptance and moving on from mistakes but Jaime looked at him like he wasn’t entirely convinced it was a lesson he wanted to learn. Tim could empathize with that too. He still wasn’t sure it was a lesson he wanted to internalize, but five years into his run as Robin, he knew how important it was not to let every little screw up get to you.
Jaime would learn the same thing given time. Tim was sure of it. The guy was too smart not to.
Tim finished drying off and wrapped his damp towel loosely around his waist. He combed his hair quickly, pulling through the tangles without really feeling them, he was too muzzy from the drugs for that.
When he stepped out of the bathroom a cloud of steam followed him into the bedroom. He was rummaging through his dresser for a clean pair of boxers when he heard his phone ring. He aborted his boxer mission to head over to where he had left his work phone sitting on the counter next to the hamster cage the night before.
He glanced at the caller id. It was Babs.
“R, here,” he answered gruffly and cleared his throat, waving slightly to Legolas as he spoke.
“Hey, Boy Wonder. How’s your head?” she asked cheerily and Tim winced. Headaches always seemed to feel worse when you were talking to someone who was perfectly happy and feeling no pain.
“It hurts,” he grumbled into the phone and Babs laughed.
“I just called to tell you that I called Mrs. Reyes last night when the two of you got in. I told her that you weren’t feeling so hot and that Jaime was going to sit with you,” she told him.
Tim sighed heavily and felt his shoulder muscles relax in relief.
“Oh Babs, you’re a life saver,” he told her and she laughed smugly.
“I also may have said something about a responsible adult supervising you guys, too. I figure, even if you don’t count as one, I must,” she informed him conspiratorially.
“You kept an eye on us?” he asked, curiously.
“I had your screen up all night. I wasn’t watching like a hawk, just making sure you weren’t suffering any after effects from the tranqs,” she told him.
Tim had planted the bugs Babs had sent him himself, shortly after he moved into his new place. While he and Babs were not as close as they had been when she was operating in Gotham, he liked to know she kept an eye on him. It made him feel safer.
“Also, I figured it would be a good idea to make sure that Blue Beetle didn’t take advantage of you in your weakened state,” she said with faux concern in her voice.
Babs had been teasing Tim for months about Jaime’s crush on him. It had bothered Tim, at first, because he hadn’t picked up on it until Babs said something. Jaime was usually a pretty attentive and affection person as a whole and it hadn’t registered with him that Jaime was acting even more attentive and affectionate with him. When he did make the connection, Tim had chalked it up to a mentor crush. A little like the one he had on Nightwing when he was younger.
Then he remembered what that crush had been like. What it was still like.
That made Tim even more uncomfortable.
Tim knew the feelings he had for Nightwing would never completely go away. He wasn’t sure if that was because Nightwing had been the first person he was ever really in love with, or if it was because Nightwing still had all the qualities that Tim still admired.
Either way, Tim hoped that Jaime would grow out of it soon.
Tim felt himself smile as he thought about Babs’ teasing. “And what would you do if he did?” he asked, amused.
He could hear her shrug on the other end of the line. “Press record. Then maybe I’d call you. I figure it would probably be something you want to be awake for.”
“Responsible adult, huh?” he teased and she laughed.
“Looks like Romeo is waking up. Better put some pants on or he won’t be able to help himself,” Babs instructed him and then hung up.
Tim turned to find Jaime sitting up in his bed, watching him with a surprised expression on his face.
“That was O,” he told Jaime, tossing his phone back on the counter next to the hamster cage before he made his way back over to the dresser.
“She called your mom and told her you were staying over at my place last night. There may also have been mention of a responsible adult supervising us. You can deal with that as you see fit,” he explained to Jaime as he grabbed a pair of boxers from his top drawer.
He dropped his towel to the floor and before he could step into the boxers, Jaime’s shout made him pause.
“Stop!”
Tim looked up, on leg raised to see Jaime watching him intently.
“Yes?” he asked patiently.
“You’re naked,” Jaime informed him.
“Don’t worry, I’m about to rectify that situation,” Tim assured him and made to step into the boxers.
“No! You can’t!” Jaime shouted and jumped out of the bed.
Tim looked at him, bewildered.
“Did they mutate into monstrous alien beings in my sleep or something?” he asked, bemused.
“No, you’re naked,” Jaime said again, as if this explained everything.
“You’ve lost me,” Tim said to him, trying to figure out what was going on.
Jaime hadn’t gotten hit with a dart last night after all, had he?
“You told me if I ever saw you naked you would tell me your real name,” Jaime explained quickly.
It took Tim a minute to remember what Jaime was talking about. Then he recalled the promise he had made while Jaime had been concussed in the bathtub.
“You had a concussion. You were rambling. I was guilt ridden and humoring you,” Tim tried to explain indignantly but Jaime persisted.
“You promised. You can’t break the promise. We shook on it,” Jaime gave him a reproving look.
Tim sighed. Jaime had a point. He had promised and they had shaken on it.
He looked at Jaime for a long moment before he sighed and reached again for his boxers.
“Tim. My real name is Tim,” he said shortly and pulled his underwear on. When he straightened and looked back up at Jaime, the guy was smiling broadly.
“Tim what?” Jaime asked, his voice sounding inordinately pleased.
“Tim Drake,” Tim specified raising both his eyebrows and turned back to his dresser to grab a clean pair of sweats.
“What’s your middle name?” Jaime asked, walking over to him.
“Oh for the love of-My middle name is Jackson,” Tim told Jaime, exasperated. His head was still buried in his dresser drawer as he dug for his favorite sweats.
“Like Michael Jackson?” Jaime asked, clearly amused.
Tim looked up at him and glared. “My father’s first name was Jack. Hence, Jackson,” he clarified and pulled on his sweats.
Jaime was quiet for a long minute and Tim took the time to find a clean shirt. He pulled on the shirt that was at the top of the pile and looked up to find Jaime watching him with a serious expression on his face.
Tim sighed. “I swear to God that I’m not related to Michael Jackson,” he said tiredly.
Jaime smiled slightly but shook his head.
“Was?” he asked.
Tim shot him a curious look. “Was what?”
“Your father’s name was Jack?” Jaime clarified and Tim’s stomach dropped out.
Even almost three years later, talking about his Dad still made Tim’s throat feel tight and his chest hurt.
Tim took a deep breath and tried to keep his face neutral.
“He died a few years ago,” he told Jaime and walked over to the kitchen area, hoping Jaime would take the hint and change the subject. “Are you hungry?”
Jaime nodded and followed him over, he took a seat on one of the stools in front of the bar and watched as Tim poured them each a glass of juice.
Jaime was quiet and contemplative as Tim grabbed them both some yogurt and granola. They ate without speaking. Tim watched Legolas and Gimli in their cage while Jaime stared at his yogurt.
Tim would normally talk to his hamsters, but Jaime’s silence was pretty heavy and he didn’t really want Jaime telling people he talked to his hamsters.
Babs knew but he had sworn her to secrecy.
Tim dropped a few pieces of granola into the cage and scolded Gim for not giving Leg a chance to get any treats. That seemed in the realm of reasonability and Jaime probably wouldn’t tease him for it. Probably.
Tim desperately wanted to break the oppressive silence, but he wasn’t sure how. Jaime was studying his bowl of yogurt and his lips were pursed together in thought.
Tim sighed.
“Thanks for flying me back last night. I appreciate it. So do Gimli and Legolas,” he said as he stood up and opened the hamster cage. He grabbed first Legolas and then Gimli, setting them on the counter and scattering a few more bits of granola for them.
Jaime looked up and smiled. “You spoil them, don’t you?”
Tim crouched down so he was eye level with his hams and petted Legolas gently with a delicate finger.
“Maybe just a little,” he conceded and held out a dried cranberry for Gimli.
“Can I call you Tim, now?” Jaime asked him, suddenly.
Tim glanced up at him.
“Not while we’re working, but yeah, you can call me Tim.”
Jaime smiled at him. “Thanks for breakfast, Tim.”
Tim smiled back and rested his chin on an elbow he had propped up on the counter.
“You’re welcome, Jaime. Now go take a shower. I refuse to fly all the way back to El Paso with you while you smell the way you do.”
A/N: The smelly comment was a low blow, but I don't think Tim has forgiven Jaime for drooling on his pillow. I wouldn't either. That's gross. Dude's going to have to wash his sheets tonight.
Chapter Eight
Author: Aravis Tarkheena
Pairing: Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle III)/Tim Drake (Robin III)
Rating: R
Warnings: overall- sex, violence, angst, the gay
Disclaimer: Not mine, everyone's legal
Word Count: 3,000ish
Summary: Batman's gone. :( Timmy's all alone. :(( Jaime thinks Timmy needs a friend. :D
Table of Contents
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Jaime was fast asleep next to him when Tim woke up the next morning. The bed was slightly over-warm and Jaime was drooling on his favorite pillow.
Tim stifled a groan and closed his eyes again, willing the dull ache in his head to dissipate. Only he could manage to have all the pain, awkwardness and drool of a ‘morning after’ with out having reaped the benefits of the ‘night before’.
He needed pain killers and some water but was loathe to climb out of bed. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to pull it off with any measure of grace and the resulting stumble would almost certainly wake Jaime. That wasn’t something Tim wanted just yet.
He needed a few minutes to collect his thoughts and figure out how, exactly, he was going to play things out with Jaime.
After spending a good five minutes muzzily thinking himself in circles, Tim decided that a shower was in order to clear his head. Tim sat up determinedly and tossed his sleeping bed partner a dirty look. He crawled to the foot of the bed, climbed over his dresser and onto the floor. Jaime mumbled slightly in his sleep, but didn’t wake. He only turned over and nuzzled Tim’s favorite pillow, smearing more drool over the pillow case.
Tim grimaced, sighed and padded into the bathroom.
Aside from the pillow drool and getting him shot that one time, Tim reflected as he pulled his sleep shirt up over his head, Jaime wasn’t a bad guy. Tim actually enjoyed working with him. He was a quick study, and seemed to remember most of what he learned. He was fun too. Not in the same way Ted and Kon were fun, but in his own way. He had a wry sense of humor that appealed to Tim and he could stay focused when Tim needed him to.
Jaime had made a ton of progress over the year or so that Tim had been working with him. Tim couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pride when he watched Jaime put together the case against the art thieves. He was proving to be a great detective and was certainly doing Ted’s name justice.
Tim flicked on the taps to the shower and undressed. He brushed his teeth as he waited for the water in the shower to warm. When he finally stepped behind the curtain and under the spray the water did little to dispel the groggy feeling that was dogging him.
As Tim shook his head back and forth vigorously and fought back a yawn it, occurred to him with a dull dread that he had forgotten to remind Jaime to call his mother. He groaned and leaned forward to press his head against the wall of the shower stall.
She was going to kill him. Possibly both of them.
The thing was, to know Jaime was to know his family. You couldn’t have one without the other, not even when he was being a superhero. He quoted wisdom imparted to him by his father during battle and fretted over his mother scolding him for something or other. When they were off duty he complained about his sister in ways that made it clear that, while she annoyed him from time to time, he really did love her a lot.
When Tim had started working with Jaime more and more, helping him learn about his own city and region, Jaime had introduced Tim to his family. It had been something of a shock. He imagined what he felt was similar to what immigrants experienced when they arrived in a completely new country and had to either sink or swim.
Tim was pretty sure he had sunk.
Jaime’s father had told him that he was too quiet. Jaime’s mother had told him he was too skinny. Jaime’s sister had told him that Batman dumb because he didn't have superpowers.
The worst part was, Tim could not even defend himself. They were all right. Well, all of them except Milagro, but she was a true believer and it would probably take quite a bit to convince her that Batman was cooler than all the metas put together.
They had fed him, fussed over him and asked him questions. Most of which he could not answer. They didn’t seem to mind. Whenever he dodged a question, Jaime’s father would give him an understanding look and his mother would ruffle his hair.
It was bizarre.
It was also kind of fun.
He felt like Jane Goodall, only rather than studying gorillas he was studying well-adjusted families. He would give bemused reports on the meetings to Babs who laughed at him and suggested he write a dissertation on the subject for the rest of the Bats. He was almost sure she was kidding.
Ever since meeting Jaime’s family he had begun to enjoy listening to him speak about them more and more. Before, he would have been annoyed or bored with the chatter, confidant that he knew everything that he needed to know about the Reyes family. Now, he liked to hear about the things Milagro got up to or the little bits of wisdom Jaime’s father imparted to him. He most especially liked to hear about the people Jaime’s mother scolded in the supermarket.
Tim was pretty sure Jaime’s mother was a force of nature.
It amazed Tim how easily they let him slip into their life. It was as if he was not a cape, like he hadn’t been working with Batman since he was twelve. They acted as if he was just another of Jaime’s friends, come to visit. It was like he was seventeen and stupid, in the need of constant sustenance and constant supervision lest he do something irresponsible.
It would have been surreal if it didn’t feel so simple and easy.
Jaime, for his part, didn’t see anything unusual about the way his family treated Tim. He reacted with the same embarrassment any teenager had for their parents or younger sibling, with an underlying sense of affection and resignation and none of the resentment.
Tim rinsed shampoo from his hair and finished scrubbing off. He stood under the spray for several moments, rinsing off the suds and dreading waking Jaime up to call his mother.
Jaime would be even more panicked than Tim.
Tim was a little scared of her after only knowing her a few months. Poor Jaime had been conditioned since birth.
Jaime would be jumpy and stressed the whole way back to El Paso.
Tim sighed and decided that there was no point in trying to avoid the inevitable. He flicked off the taps and stepped out of the tub. He grabbed his towel from the rack and rubbed at his wet hair.
Jaime was a rather baffling mixture of easy going and high strung. He liked to take his time, think things through and have a little fun. However, there were a lot of things Jaime was very serious about.
He was serious about school. He had told Tim that he wanted to get into a good school and be a dentist when he grew up. He got good grades and tried hard and while he claimed he wasn’t that bright, Tim could see otherwise. Jaime was not Ted Kord, not by a long shot, but he was inventive and creative. Even under pressure.
Jaime was serious about his friends. He was determined to keep the safe and to keep them involved in his life. He was determined to see that they were happy and in Brenda’s case he was determined to see her through the grief and loss she was suffering. Jaime didn’t talk much about Brenda. Tim was pretty sure he sensed how uncomfortable the topic was for Tim. Tim was grateful and wondered if Jaime considered him one of the friends he was serious about protecting. Tim wasn’t sure.
Jaime was also serious about Blue Beetle. He fought as best he could, learned as much as he could manage and obsessed endlessly whenever he screwed up. Tim could empathize. He had been the same way when he first started out as Robin. Every failure seemed unforgivable, no matter how minor.
Tim had tried hard to teach Jaime about acceptance and moving on from mistakes but Jaime looked at him like he wasn’t entirely convinced it was a lesson he wanted to learn. Tim could empathize with that too. He still wasn’t sure it was a lesson he wanted to internalize, but five years into his run as Robin, he knew how important it was not to let every little screw up get to you.
Jaime would learn the same thing given time. Tim was sure of it. The guy was too smart not to.
Tim finished drying off and wrapped his damp towel loosely around his waist. He combed his hair quickly, pulling through the tangles without really feeling them, he was too muzzy from the drugs for that.
When he stepped out of the bathroom a cloud of steam followed him into the bedroom. He was rummaging through his dresser for a clean pair of boxers when he heard his phone ring. He aborted his boxer mission to head over to where he had left his work phone sitting on the counter next to the hamster cage the night before.
He glanced at the caller id. It was Babs.
“R, here,” he answered gruffly and cleared his throat, waving slightly to Legolas as he spoke.
“Hey, Boy Wonder. How’s your head?” she asked cheerily and Tim winced. Headaches always seemed to feel worse when you were talking to someone who was perfectly happy and feeling no pain.
“It hurts,” he grumbled into the phone and Babs laughed.
“I just called to tell you that I called Mrs. Reyes last night when the two of you got in. I told her that you weren’t feeling so hot and that Jaime was going to sit with you,” she told him.
Tim sighed heavily and felt his shoulder muscles relax in relief.
“Oh Babs, you’re a life saver,” he told her and she laughed smugly.
“I also may have said something about a responsible adult supervising you guys, too. I figure, even if you don’t count as one, I must,” she informed him conspiratorially.
“You kept an eye on us?” he asked, curiously.
“I had your screen up all night. I wasn’t watching like a hawk, just making sure you weren’t suffering any after effects from the tranqs,” she told him.
Tim had planted the bugs Babs had sent him himself, shortly after he moved into his new place. While he and Babs were not as close as they had been when she was operating in Gotham, he liked to know she kept an eye on him. It made him feel safer.
“Also, I figured it would be a good idea to make sure that Blue Beetle didn’t take advantage of you in your weakened state,” she said with faux concern in her voice.
Babs had been teasing Tim for months about Jaime’s crush on him. It had bothered Tim, at first, because he hadn’t picked up on it until Babs said something. Jaime was usually a pretty attentive and affection person as a whole and it hadn’t registered with him that Jaime was acting even more attentive and affectionate with him. When he did make the connection, Tim had chalked it up to a mentor crush. A little like the one he had on Nightwing when he was younger.
Then he remembered what that crush had been like. What it was still like.
That made Tim even more uncomfortable.
Tim knew the feelings he had for Nightwing would never completely go away. He wasn’t sure if that was because Nightwing had been the first person he was ever really in love with, or if it was because Nightwing still had all the qualities that Tim still admired.
Either way, Tim hoped that Jaime would grow out of it soon.
Tim felt himself smile as he thought about Babs’ teasing. “And what would you do if he did?” he asked, amused.
He could hear her shrug on the other end of the line. “Press record. Then maybe I’d call you. I figure it would probably be something you want to be awake for.”
“Responsible adult, huh?” he teased and she laughed.
“Looks like Romeo is waking up. Better put some pants on or he won’t be able to help himself,” Babs instructed him and then hung up.
Tim turned to find Jaime sitting up in his bed, watching him with a surprised expression on his face.
“That was O,” he told Jaime, tossing his phone back on the counter next to the hamster cage before he made his way back over to the dresser.
“She called your mom and told her you were staying over at my place last night. There may also have been mention of a responsible adult supervising us. You can deal with that as you see fit,” he explained to Jaime as he grabbed a pair of boxers from his top drawer.
He dropped his towel to the floor and before he could step into the boxers, Jaime’s shout made him pause.
“Stop!”
Tim looked up, on leg raised to see Jaime watching him intently.
“Yes?” he asked patiently.
“You’re naked,” Jaime informed him.
“Don’t worry, I’m about to rectify that situation,” Tim assured him and made to step into the boxers.
“No! You can’t!” Jaime shouted and jumped out of the bed.
Tim looked at him, bewildered.
“Did they mutate into monstrous alien beings in my sleep or something?” he asked, bemused.
“No, you’re naked,” Jaime said again, as if this explained everything.
“You’ve lost me,” Tim said to him, trying to figure out what was going on.
Jaime hadn’t gotten hit with a dart last night after all, had he?
“You told me if I ever saw you naked you would tell me your real name,” Jaime explained quickly.
It took Tim a minute to remember what Jaime was talking about. Then he recalled the promise he had made while Jaime had been concussed in the bathtub.
“You had a concussion. You were rambling. I was guilt ridden and humoring you,” Tim tried to explain indignantly but Jaime persisted.
“You promised. You can’t break the promise. We shook on it,” Jaime gave him a reproving look.
Tim sighed. Jaime had a point. He had promised and they had shaken on it.
He looked at Jaime for a long moment before he sighed and reached again for his boxers.
“Tim. My real name is Tim,” he said shortly and pulled his underwear on. When he straightened and looked back up at Jaime, the guy was smiling broadly.
“Tim what?” Jaime asked, his voice sounding inordinately pleased.
“Tim Drake,” Tim specified raising both his eyebrows and turned back to his dresser to grab a clean pair of sweats.
“What’s your middle name?” Jaime asked, walking over to him.
“Oh for the love of-My middle name is Jackson,” Tim told Jaime, exasperated. His head was still buried in his dresser drawer as he dug for his favorite sweats.
“Like Michael Jackson?” Jaime asked, clearly amused.
Tim looked up at him and glared. “My father’s first name was Jack. Hence, Jackson,” he clarified and pulled on his sweats.
Jaime was quiet for a long minute and Tim took the time to find a clean shirt. He pulled on the shirt that was at the top of the pile and looked up to find Jaime watching him with a serious expression on his face.
Tim sighed. “I swear to God that I’m not related to Michael Jackson,” he said tiredly.
Jaime smiled slightly but shook his head.
“Was?” he asked.
Tim shot him a curious look. “Was what?”
“Your father’s name was Jack?” Jaime clarified and Tim’s stomach dropped out.
Even almost three years later, talking about his Dad still made Tim’s throat feel tight and his chest hurt.
Tim took a deep breath and tried to keep his face neutral.
“He died a few years ago,” he told Jaime and walked over to the kitchen area, hoping Jaime would take the hint and change the subject. “Are you hungry?”
Jaime nodded and followed him over, he took a seat on one of the stools in front of the bar and watched as Tim poured them each a glass of juice.
Jaime was quiet and contemplative as Tim grabbed them both some yogurt and granola. They ate without speaking. Tim watched Legolas and Gimli in their cage while Jaime stared at his yogurt.
Tim would normally talk to his hamsters, but Jaime’s silence was pretty heavy and he didn’t really want Jaime telling people he talked to his hamsters.
Babs knew but he had sworn her to secrecy.
Tim dropped a few pieces of granola into the cage and scolded Gim for not giving Leg a chance to get any treats. That seemed in the realm of reasonability and Jaime probably wouldn’t tease him for it. Probably.
Tim desperately wanted to break the oppressive silence, but he wasn’t sure how. Jaime was studying his bowl of yogurt and his lips were pursed together in thought.
Tim sighed.
“Thanks for flying me back last night. I appreciate it. So do Gimli and Legolas,” he said as he stood up and opened the hamster cage. He grabbed first Legolas and then Gimli, setting them on the counter and scattering a few more bits of granola for them.
Jaime looked up and smiled. “You spoil them, don’t you?”
Tim crouched down so he was eye level with his hams and petted Legolas gently with a delicate finger.
“Maybe just a little,” he conceded and held out a dried cranberry for Gimli.
“Can I call you Tim, now?” Jaime asked him, suddenly.
Tim glanced up at him.
“Not while we’re working, but yeah, you can call me Tim.”
Jaime smiled at him. “Thanks for breakfast, Tim.”
Tim smiled back and rested his chin on an elbow he had propped up on the counter.
“You’re welcome, Jaime. Now go take a shower. I refuse to fly all the way back to El Paso with you while you smell the way you do.”
A/N: The smelly comment was a low blow, but I don't think Tim has forgiven Jaime for drooling on his pillow. I wouldn't either. That's gross. Dude's going to have to wash his sheets tonight.
Chapter Eight