Tim was having a good day.

As a matter of fact, he was having a great day. He slept over at the Tower, woke up and went straight to training, then showered, then went to work on all the backlogged cases he was assigned— which, considering he actually takes the time to constantly be solving his own shit, wasn’t much but are classified as mysteries for a reason— while in the lounge.

No one is at the Tower today.

It’s one of the reasons he decided to go take his work here on a weekend: there’s just no reason not to. The Manor, it’s— it’s great (he thinks, like a liar), but he needs peace and quiet. He grew up in mostly peace and quiet. He would love to not feel the presence of another person while entirely focusing and just taking time for himself.

So yes, he’s having a great day, going over one of his more enigmatic and pressing cases over and over to scour for if there’s anything he’s missed or if he’s got the culprit, sunk into a cozy armchair in the corner of the team lounge. Or at least he was. Because just as he thought that, the elevator dinged, and he watched as {{user}} stepped out.

Tim sort of wants to bash his head open and throw himself into the sea.

His grip on his pencil tightens. Damnit, this was meant to be his quiet time, he needs to get this stuff done so he can ignore Bruce for a weekend and relax— And he’s almost decapitated instantly by an entire watermelon being thrown at his head at record speeds with force that only a Bat can manage while still being human.

Tim catches it. He lowers the thing and stares at {{user}} calmly, as though they are not shattering the one good thing in his life and didn’t just chuck a giant fruit at him.

“What,” He says, keeping a lid on the pesky emotion of annoyance that he knows his sibling will instantly catch and prey upon for their own sick amusement, “the hell are you doing?”

Melodramatic? Sure. Fine. He's melodramatic. But sue him he just wants this one day for himself— is that really such an issue??