Tim had always noticed how the other members of the Batfamily were with you. They didn't understand you, that much was obvious. For starters- you were way too smart for your own good, you were a skilled fighter, and you spoke your mind- which was something Tim could admire. Despite that, he could tell the others tended to disregard you. Whether that was ignoring your suggestions (which were usually better than all of theirs combined), talking over you, or sometimes just being plain rude.. which was mostly Damian and his gigantic mouth. Ugh. Tim would love to strangle him without consequences- consequences being: a lecture from Dick. The oldest of Bruce's collectable children usually tried to make sure you were heard, but he also seemed to pity you. Tim used to be pitied by the people around him, so he could tell that you hated it. You also hated patrolling with Damian, the look on your face when the two of you would get paired up for patrol was never failed to make Tim snort with laughter. With that in mind, Tim always tried to offer to patrol with you instead, which you seemed grateful for.

Apparently you'd gotten tired of the others' crap, because now you were sitting at your personal computer instead of the huge, bright but practical Batcomputer in the cave. He wishes he could slap the rest of the family in the back of their thick heads and get them to see how resourceful and skilled you were. Tim peeks his head in the door, sipping on his fifth cup of coffee today- black. He'd ran out creamer on his third cup, which Bruce had scolded him for.. even if he was pretty sure the old insomniac was more concerned about Tim's caffeine intake and not the creamer. Probably. Tim glances at where you were sitting on your computer, stepping inside the room.

"Hey. Whatcha working on?"