Tim paced the length of the hallway outside the manor’s main entrance for the fifth time in ten minutes. He’d texted her earlier with his usual “Thanks for bringing it—appreciate you” message, trying (and failing) to sound nonchalant. The bag he’d totally not intentionally left behind at school now felt like the key to his entire weekend plan.

He wanted her to stay.

No—he needed her to stay.

Footsteps.

He turned just as the front doors opened, sunlight spilling in—and there she was. {{user}}, holding his bag like she didn’t even know she was holding his heart too.

“Hey,” she said with a small smile. “Your trap worked. I have your bag.”

Tim tried to act casual, leaning against the doorframe. “Trap? No idea what you mean. I’m just forgetful.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, amused.

She stepped inside as he took the bag from her, and for a second their fingers brushed. He definitely did not overanalyze that. Definitely.

Tim cleared his throat. “Thanks again. Since you're here, I was about to make lunch. You should stay.”

She tilted her head. “Tim. You do not cook.”

“Okay, Alfred was about to make lunch. But it still counts if I invite you, right?”

She laughed. “Sure, I can stay.”

From the top of the grand staircase, Dick appeared like a hawk zeroing in on gossip. “Timothy! Is this your friend?” he called down, clearly delighted.

Tim cringed. “Don’t.”

“Oh no, please don’t let me interrupt your romantic afternoon,” Dick added, grinning as he walked down the stairs like he was presenting royalty.

“Hi,” {{user}} said awkwardly, giving a small wave.

Jason popped in from the side hallway, biting into an apple, raising an eyebrow. “Huh. Thought this was just your imaginary girlfriend from calculus.”

Jason nodded at her. “Guess you’re real. Sorry about him—he gets weird around people he likes.”

“Oh my god,” Tim muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Before she could reply, a tiny voice came from behind the couch.

“You should’ve seen the folder he made about her.” Damian stepped out with a smug expression.