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Finding Hozho	By : MaraG Category: DC Verse Comics > Teen Titans Views: 3892 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
CONTINUITY: About two years after Jack Drake finds out about Tim being Robin. This is a sequel to my ficlet "Another Time," which I recommend you read first. (It's available at my website at http://mara.ink-and-quill.com).

NOTES: This is for all the folks who asked for more Arsenal/Robin. I actually bought the complete run of Outsiders to write this, so I hope y'all appreciate the sacrifice ;) Thanks to Te for kicking my ass on that whole "show don't tell" thing. I owe my upcoming first-born to Sage for two of the best and most thorough beta-readings I've ever received (and also for pestering me to actually *make* the revisions). Lastly, thanks to Stexgirl for a last-minute read-through and cheering me on. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to take all of their excellent advice, so for the record: Any remaining problems are entirely due to my laziness and not the fault of Sage, Te, or Stexgirl.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, unfortunately. DC comics does, and they don't deserve 'em!

* * * * *

"Sa'ah naaghaii bik'eh hozho"

(Navajo saying: "As we move continuously toward maturity, we will walk in beauty and harmony.")

Roy figured they'd already had their happy ending. After all, hadn't he patched up the whole 'Robin loves Nightwing' soap opera?

He was pleased to see Nightwing and Robin regain their former camaraderie with no apparent strain. Well, Dick *was* still worked up over Roy's kiss with Robin, but the big lug would get over it. Although, if he made a snide reference over dinner just *one* more time...

After all, Roy thought with justifiable resentment, it wasn't as if he'd instigated the kiss. Sure he'd *looked* but he hadn't even thought (seriously) about kissing Robin--er, Tim--until it happened.

Granted, Roy found himself thinking about it just a *bit* more than was entirely healthy, but that could undoubtedly be attributed to the long dry spell in his sex life.

There'd been a period (not that long ago) when he easily took the title of team slut, but that was over now. He'd been rapidly tiring of that life already, but the final straw was the night he came home and Lian asked him about the new perfume he was wearing. Maybe it was just time for him to grow up, even if Ollie had never bothered.

Roy had gone without before and frustration hadn't killed him yet, so chances were good it wouldn't do so now. Besides, it wasn't as if his life was all that horrible right now.

Grinning, he watched Lian prance around the living room, nearly tripping over the television as she sang something about puppy dogs. Her fine black hair escaped from its clips and flew in her face, but she was determined to get to the end of the song.

Roy clapped as she stopped singing and bowed. "That was wonderful. Where did you learn that song?"

"At school, silly. We went to music with the first graders and Mrs. Gomez teached us all kinds of new songs."

"Taught," he said automatically. "Will you sing me another one?"

"Okay, Daddy!"

He leaned back into the couch, clapping along as she sang about the school bus.

The phone rang just as she was finishing and she raced to get it first, Roy pretending to dive and falling short as she grabbed the receiver. "Hello?" she managed through the giggles.

He leaned on the arm of the couch, watching as her face lit up. "Uncle Gar! D'you wanna hear what I did in school today?"

Roy picked up a magazine and listened to the conversation with half an ear, noting that Lian sounded excited about something. Finally, she said, "Here's Daddy," and shoved the phone at him.

He chuckled. "Hey, Greenjeans. What's up?"

"What's up is that we're kidnapping your daughter tomorrow."

"Really?" Roy smiled at Lian as she held up the picture of a cat she was drawing.

"Mm-hmm. I heard a rumor that a certain youngster wanted to go see a certain Disney flick and hey, I need a kid to be my cover so I can go."

"Lian'll love that. The Tower's covered?"

"Yeah, most of the kids had other places to be, so we called off training for this weekend. Vic's on the monitors just in case."

"Makes sense. You said '*we're* kidnapping,' who's coming with you?"

"Oh, Kory's coming too. She said I need a minder worse than Lian."

"Can't argue with that. You sure about this?" Roy tossed the magazine back on the coffee table and put his feet up. "I mean, I don't want to impose on you. I know she's a handful."

"Are you implying that two Titans can't handle one little girl? I know you wouldn't deny us a day with her."

Hey, with Ron out of town, he could *use* a break. "Okay, but I'm not responsible for the therapy bills or any damage incurred."

"We'll be by to pick her up at about 11, and get her back by bedtime, 'kay? Give you a rest."

"Sounds good. Hey, Gar?"

"Yo."

"Thanks."

"Any time. Titans together."

Roy hung up and watched his daughter humming to herself as she bent her head over a coloring book. Yeah, life was pretty darn good.

* * * * *

Roy started the process of getting Lian ready well over an hour before she was to leave. It took twenty minutes of bouncing before she was calm enough to get dressed, and he used part of that time to pack her backpack. Juice box, crayons, a clean shirt...he smirked as he imagined the reaction of the many criminals he'd captured.

Thanks to persistence, he had her ready to go by the time Uncle Gar and Aunt Kory arrived.

When the doorbell rang, Lian screamed and Roy sighed, wondering when she'd grow out of that. Glancing at the monitor, he opened the door and Lian rushed forward.

"Uncle Gar! Aunt Kory!" She jumped into Gar's arms and hugged Kory fiercely.

"Hey, kiddo," Gar said. "You all ready to go?"

"Uh-huh!" After a big hug for her daddy, she dragged them out the door without looking back. As the door closed, Roy could hear her voice. "Did ya know Aunt Indigo took me to the circus? And we saw the--"

Roy collapsed into his favorite chair, grinning.

Now what? He pondered the mound of laundry that threatened to take over his bedroom, but dismissed that as being unworthy for an unexpected free day. And there were always mission reports, but those could wait a few hours, at least.

He should do something fun. What did non-parents do for fun anyway? He thought back to pre-Lian days, then winced. Okay, maybe that wasn't the way to go. He could give Dick a call, see if he was free, but he was pretty sure Dick had said he was in Gotham for a few days, which meant courting Barbara if nothing else.

And hell if Roy was going to interrupt *that* unless it was an emergency. Those two had enough problems without him interfering.

Maybe Connor? They certainly didn't spend enough time together. Roy sighed. Wait, he and Ollie were at the monastery for a retreat. That certainly cut down on his socializing opportunities.

He'd just decided to go rent a movie that didn't involve talking animals and veg out on the couch when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he checked the monitor he'd installed to see who was at his door.

A dark-haired teenager in a tight t-shirt and jeans holding a white plastic bag smiled into the camera. Roy blinked. He'd seen the camera? It took *Dick* five minutes to find the damn thing, but this kid had only set off the motion detector a few seconds ago. The teen's smile faded slightly and his finger traced around his eyes. Like a...

"Holy shit." Roy opened the door, trying not to look completely stunned.

"You said I should come find you. So I did." The smile was back and he offered his hand. "Hi, I'm Tim Drake."

Roy shook his hand, feeling slightly dazed. "Uh, come in."

"Thanks." Tim strode past and Roy glanced down automatically check out his ass in blue jeans. Not as good as tights, to be sure, but there was the advantage of no billowing cape to peer around. By the time he'd realized what he was doing, Tim had put the bag down on the dining room table and was watching him. How the hell did Tim manage to throw him so off-balance?

"Not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here?" It came out harsher than he intended and Roy winced as Tim's smile faded completely.

"I was sort of hoping you'd join me for lunch." Tim crossed his arms, looking much more like Robin than Tim. "I guess I shouldn't have presumed."

"Hang on." Roy waved his hands. "I didn't mean to sound mad."

Tim waited.

Roy blinked at him. Hey...

"I'm confu--" Roy stopped, rewound his brain, and stared. "Wait a second, did you..."

Tim's lips quirked slightly.

Jaw dropping, Roy finally managed to articulate what he meant. "You got Gar and Kory to take Lian? So you could have lunch with me?"

"Not exactly. I mean, it was their idea to take Lian."

"Their idea."

"Uh-huh." Tim ducked his head. "After I mentioned to Superboy that Dick had said you were looking tired."

"Superboy."

"Mm-hmm. Superboy told Wonder Girl, Wonder Girl told Kid Flash, Kid Flash told Changeling, and Changeling told Starfire and Cyborg. Voila, they came up with an idea."

Roy stared into guileless blue eyes. "Jesus, you really *are* the Bat's protégé."

"Thanks." A smile flashed across his face. "I think."

"So, why'd you do it?"

"Because you *have* been looking tired." Tim's answer sounded flippant, but his face was serious, almost anxious.

Roy pulled out a dining room chair and sat down, thumping onto the cushion harder than he'd intended. "Definitely part of the Batclan," he muttered. He looked up as the thought hit him. "You've been watching me?"

Tim shook his head and sat down in the chair opposite him. "Only as much as you look at my butt."

"Oh," Roy said with a grin, "that much?" He scrubbed a hand across his head, momentarily missing his longer hair. There certainly wasn't any way to deny he'd been looking. Maybe it was time to give in gracefully. "Well, what're you waiting for? Sit down and feed me."

Tim pulled containers out of the bag and Roy grabbed plates, drinks, silverware, and glasses. His eyebrows went up as he eyed the selection. "Lemon chicken, crispy duck...you've got pretty much every one of my favorites here. How'd you manage that? Did Dick tell you?"

Tim flushed. "Not exactly."

Roy scooped out a serving of duck and scallions. "What does 'not exactly' mean?"

"Um." Tim dumped rice on his plate, keeping his eyes down. "I tapped into the records of Dick's favorite Chinese place to see what he ordered when you were visiting."

Roy's fork froze halfway to his mouth. For a moment he could only stare at Tim's abashed face. Until he started to laugh. "You!" He doubled over. "You're amazing! You sure I can't steal you from the Titans?"

Eventually Roy managed to stop laughing and they settled in to eat lunch. That kept their hands and mouths busy for a few minutes, and Roy cast about for a suitable subject of conversation that didn't involve work. If Tim hadn't been 'in the business,' Roy might have asked some harmless question about a movie or television show, but he couldn't even be certain Tim had the *time* for those things.

Tim looked to be in the same boat, but he finally swallowed a mouthful of broccoli and rice and pointed to a painting that hung by the door. "That's really nice, but what does the name mean?"

Although Roy knew exactly what he meant, he turned to look at it again. The picture, a watercolor of Canyon de Chelly on the Navajo reservation, was labeled simply with the word 'Hozho.' Grinning, Roy looked back at Tim. "You don't ask the easy ones, do you?"

Tim flushed. "I didn't mean--"

"No, it's okay." Roy waved at him, unable to resist a smile as he looked back at the painting. "It's just complicated. The word is Navajo and variously translated as beauty, harmony, order, health, and other things I can't think of at the moment."

Tim had stopped eating and was watching him. "How do you know which one you're using?"

"It's contextual." Roy grinned. "Hell, the whole language is contextual. Glad I learned it so young."

"So what does hozho mean in *that* context?"

"For me," Roy hesitated, "well, I guess walking in beauty. It's, I used to live near there. Before Ollie adopted me." He dropped his eyes, not seeing his plate, but the stark beauty of orange cliffs contrasted with the green around riverbeds, the sparse vegetation, the way you could shoot an arrow and it seemed like it would fly forever.

"You miss it."

Roy looked back up into Tim's serious gaze. "Yeah," he said eventually. He took a forkful of food to buy some time. "Anyway, hozho is kind of the goal of Navajo life, to keep things in balance, in harmony."

"I guess that's one reason you do what you do." Tim drank some soda, looking at him over the rim of the glass.

"Huh?"

"Well, evil needs to be balanced by good, right?"

Roy didn't drop his fork, but it was close. "I guess I never thought about it that way. But it's true. We do bring a kind of hozho, don't we?" Roy studied him, impressed that Tim had noticed something he had never realized.

Tim ducked his head and went back to eating, clearly embarrassed by the way Roy was looking at him.

"So, Boy Wonder," Roy said, "I barely know anything about you. Tell me something about Tim Drake."

"Like what?"

Roy shook his head, throwing a balled-up napkin across the table. "Do you *have* normal conversations with people?"

Tim automatically caught the napkin. "Not that often."

"Okay," Roy paused, feeling a little ashamed about the jibe, "what's your college major?"

"I haven't decided yet." Tim frowned, dropping the napkin next to his plate.

"Not criminology or something?"

"Why, do you think I need to take classes?"

Laughing, Roy conceded the point. "No, I doubt anyone trained by Batman would need Criminal Justice 101."

"I'm getting some requirements out of the way while I decide." Tim took a spoonful of duck and Roy watched the way Tim's shirt stretched across his shoulders. "I'm taking American history, physics, philosophy. Stuff like that."

"Philosophy?"

"Gotta take humanities. And I like it." Tim paused, eating some duck and obviously searching for the words. "It's...easier than the decisions we make every night. Bloodless debate. Considering the fate of the world without it actually mattering."

"Hmm." He couldn't figure out what to say, so he took refuge in putting more rice on his plate.

"So, how's Ollie?" Tim asked, fiddling with his knife.

"The same." Roy shrugged. "Likes to remind me he came back from the dead and therefore deserves a little respect."

A flash of Tim's smile. "Back from the dead? C'mon, who hasn't done that at least once?"

"That's what I keep saying." Roy leaned back in his chair, idly chasing bits of chicken around his plate, too full to eat another bite. "So, your dad's okay with the vigilante creature of the night stuff?"

Tim shrugged, noncommittal. "Let's say he's learned to tolerate it. Barely..."

"Didn't go well?"

"You could say that. It did make coming out easier. Once he realized I was fighting the Joker on Tuesday nights, the occasional date with a guy wasn't so bad."

"How occasional?" Roy tried to make the inquiry casual, but was sure he didn't fool Tim for an instant. Batboys. Couldn't put anything over on them.

Tim's expression went blank. "Very occasional. Went to dinner with a few girls. Saw movies with a few guys. Found I didn't have much time for either."

"Yeah, I know how that is." Roy sighed, running his finger down the condensation on his glass.

Tim dropped his eyes. "Yeah. Trying to get my dad to accept everything was tough."

"I was lucky. Ollie's liberal creds require he not even blink at things like sexual orientation." Roy took a drink of soda, remembering various conversations with his foster father. Looking up, he found Tim watching him intently. "I mean, who knows what he was thinking, but on the outside it was nothing but hearty slaps on the back and offers to set me up with some nice guy. I can't tell you how disturbing *that* was, though." He shuddered theatrically.

Tim looked down at his plate, and Roy got the feeling his memories weren't quite so amusing. After an awkward moment of silence, Tim went to look out the living room window. "Nice view."

"Yeah. I figured I'm a grown-up, so I get to have a grown-up apartment with a grown-up view." Roy came to stand next to him. "It's not the best part of town, but it's not the worst either. There's a park a few blocks east where Lian likes to play. I roust the few drug dealers and gang members out pretty regularly to keep it clean. They're not too smart, though, 'cause they come back. You'd think the fact someone keeps beating the crap out of them would be a clue, but nooooo." Roy shut his mouth abruptly, wincing inwardly at the sound of his own babbling.

"Criminals," Tim said in a credible Batman imitation, "are a cowardly and superstitious lot. Also," he switched to his own voice, "they're often dumb as rocks."

Laughing, Roy glanced at Tim, whose expression had gone unreadable. Roy turned, feeling as if he should say something, but at a complete loss what it should be.

Tim stepped closer, so they were toe-to-toe, pausing to give Roy a chance to react. Roy just swallowed hard, so Tim reached up and gently tugged on the back of his neck.

The over half a foot of height difference was a little awkward, but Roy forgot about that moments after their lips touched, losing himself in the sensation of a new kiss. Tim's lips were chapped, but softened when Roy licked them, making Tim breathe a laugh.

They kissed again, tongues cold from the soda they'd been drinking, then warming up as they touched. Roy slid his arms around Tim's shoulders, feeling the muscles shift under the shirt, Tim's arms around his chest. Tugging Tim closer, Roy breathed in the warmth and pressure of his body. It really *had* been too long, he thought, resisting the urge to tear at the shirt until it let him get to the skin underneath.

The mingled scent of Chinese food and some faint cologne or aftershave was adorable, as Roy thought about the effort Tim had gone to. He kissed the tip of Tim's upturned nose, considering the startling blue of his eyes before Tim closed them again. Hmm, Roy thought, up close, Tim really didn't look *anything* like Dick except in the most superficial sense. It was just the Robin uniform that made you think they were alike. The thought made him chuckle.

Tim pulled back, looking a question at him. Roy shook his head, unable to articulate anything, leaning back in for more--light, teasing kisses across his lips and chin, then back to his mouth to explore with his tongue. Everything he did elicited tiny gasps and it was ungodly sexy, making it a challenge. A brush here, a bite there, judicious use of his tongue, what kind of reactions could he get? A lick up Tim's neck to his ear got a moan and Roy grinned as he made Tim melt into incoherence.

Tim was enthusiastic, but Roy couldn't stop wondering just how much experience Tim had--he'd never been interested in deflowering virgins, especially those who were the virtual baby brother of one of his best friends.

That thought was like an ice bath, making Roy pull back and try to calm his racing heart. "Whoa there, hang on a second. Have you...I mean, are you a virgin?"

Tim didn't wince, his searching expression giving Roy the disconcerting feeling that his mind was being read, a là Batman. "That was direct."

"I think it's an important question." Roy took a step back, trying to look at Tim's eyes instead of the red marks where he'd sucked on Tim's neck. "I know there are some guys who're into that, but I'm not one of them." Too many ways to pressure a guy, too many kids who weren't ready. Helping Ollie out at the kids center had just solidified his views on having sex too early.

Tim ducked his head, arms and shoulders obviously tense. "Define virgin. Hell, define sex."

"Uh."

"It's not that easy," Tim met his gaze, almost in a challenge. "Kissing, a little groping, but not much more. If you're talking penetration, then no. Why does that matter?"

"It ," ," Roy said.

"So it's a bad thing that I didn't want to have casual sor sor sex before I was ready?" Tim crossed his arms.

"No, that's not--" Roy scrubbed his face with his hands. "Dick and Bruce are going to rip me limb from limb."

Tim looked angry now. "Believe it or not, this is actually none of their business."

Roy winced. "Have your trr tried to convince *either* of them that something wasn't their business?" He paused, shaking his head. "Good luck."

"Actually, I have."

"And I think someday I want to hear that story, but I'm trying to stay on topic." He took another step back, but Tim followed him. "Look, there's this whole age thing. You're...Jesus, I don't even know how old you are."

"I'm eighteen."

"Really?" He breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. Well, except for the part where I'm substantially older." Rolling his eyes, Tim stepped forward again and Roy backed away. "Not to mention the fact I've got no desire to be a stand-in for Dick."

That got Tim's attention and he stopped, lips pursed and eyes sharp.

"I don't want to be a consolation prize," Roy added, feeling noble and lonely.

"I wouldn't do that," Tim said finally, looking him directly in the eyes. "Not to you or to me."

"How can you be so sure?"

Tim snorted, but it was miles from amusement. "When I became Robin I had to stop hiding my feelings from myself. It takes a while, but I get there. I learned from my predecessors."

That made Roy laugh despite himself. "It's too bad the formerly boy wonder never learned that," he said, shaking his head in amusement. "Might have made his life a hell of a lot easier and saved us a lot of time listening to him angst."

"And I've spent the past month thinking." Tim paused, shifting ever so slightly in place. "There doesn't seem to be any likelihood Dick will ever return my feelings for him. So it makes sense to consider other options."

Roy blinked, his stomach rolling. "That's..." Cold, he wanted to say.

Flushing, Tim stepped toward him again, fast enough to catch his hand. "That didn't come out right. I meant...god, I meant I'd been so focused on Dick that I didn't notice anyone else."

"Ah." Swallowing, Roy wasn't sure how to react.

"But after I left that day, I couldn't stop thinking about the kiss." Tim flushed even harder and it should have made him look younger, but it didn't. "I've tried to figure out why I kissed you, but I don't know."

Back on something like familiar ground, Roy tossed his head as if he still had long hair. "Well, I like to think I'm irresistible."

Tim laughed, his whole face lighting up under the dark hair. "Maybe that's it."

"The problem is," Roy s fro frowning, "I'm at a point in my life where I'm not really looking for a short-term thing."

Tim paused, seeming to consider something. "I've heard...about Grace. And Helena."

"You know about them?" Covering his eyes, Roy groaned.

"Dick and I, well, we talked about you."

"It's definitely gonna be a battle to the death when I get my hands on him. Considering his history with Helena..." Roy looked away. "That's been over for a while. It wasn't a relationship. With either of them." He paused, considering his words. "Look, I'm not interested in being your experiment."

He felt Tim's eyes on him and he looked back.

"Who says I'm experimenting?" Tim asked, his apparently relaxed stance not matching the tension in his voice.

"You're eighteen! I remember being eighteen, for Christ's sake," he said, shaking his head, "and I wasn't exactly into long-term commitment." Snorting, he waved a hand vaguely. "Not unless you define long-term as anything more than a week."

"I'm not you. And I don't have Ollie as my role model." That tiny smile crossed Tim's face. "I'm not interested in short-term. Not with the life we lead. I'd like to try..." Tim's voice trailed off and he stepped back. "I apologize. I shouldn't have assumed..."

Even Roy 'Mr. Insense' e' Harper could see the obvious when it smacked him in the face like a wet mackerel. "Hey. Don't jump to any conclusions." He reached a hand out automatically, then yanked it back, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Look, I *did* tell you to find me. But I--"

Roy didn't think of himself as being slow, either mentally or physically. Which didn't explain why he found himself backed against the wall with a determined Tim on tip-toes kissing him while his brain was still thinking, 'Uh...'
It was a good kiss, his lips noted helpfully. A *very* good kiss, parts lower down chimed in. Tim was obviously a quick study.

It's useful to know, Roy thought, that my hormones move faster than the rest of me. Then he gave himself up to the serious business of making out.

Moaning, he leaned against the wall as Tim imitated his earlier move, kissing across his chin and jaw, then experimentally licking at his neck. Roy slid his hands up and down, tracing Tim's spine, resisting the instincts that said to grab his ass and pull him in as hard as he could. The last sensible part of his brain chanted 'Eighteen!' over and over.

Roy felt Tim's hand slide under his shirt, warm and calloused, and he gasped into the kiss, the sensible part of his brain giving up in disgust. He tightened his grip on Tim, walking them back toward the couch.

Roy pushed and Tim dropped heavily onto the couch. Grabbing a quick breath, Roy straddled Tim, chuckling as Tim yanked him into another kiss. The brush of Tim's stomach against his tight jeans was electric and his heart jumped. As Tim licked him, lapping like a cat, Roy couldn't help moving his hips.

Eyes closed, he felt Tim's hands skipping all over, alternately light and rough, inexperienced and desiring. He reached for more skin, more contact, more of that electricity. There was a button and a zipper in his way, but with some effort he got past them, hazily noting Tim doing the same for him, their hands tangling and groping.

Oh *god*, that felt good. Roy groaned at the smooth, sticky, skin gliding, wonderful feeling. They found a rhythm, each brush of hands along skin and crumpled clothing another reason to moan and move faster.

Tim was shaking, shaking, his hand slowing on Roy as his hips jerked and he came with a gasp. Roy thrust against Tim's loose grip until Tim resumed his movement. It didn't take long, pleasure radiating up Roy's spine, arching his back.

"Oh," Tim whispered as Roy collapsed on top of him.

"Mmmm," was all Roy could say. His vision cleared, higher brain functions resuming, and he looked into Tim's wide blue eyes, pupils dilated. "Oh man." He scrambled off, tripping over the coffee table, tugging his pants back up.

Tim blinked. "Roy?"

"Shit. Shit. Shit." The worst part was, Tim looked so *good* sprawled on the couch, Roy wanted to crawl back, lick his stomach clean, and test the limits of his eighteen-year-old metabolism. "I didn't mean..." Oh god, how sick *was* he? One minute smugly convinced he'd never force some kid and the next pushing him around the couch. What happened to his self-control?

Closing his eyes, Tim turned his head away, a blush moving across his face. He sat up, tucking himself away and zipping up. "I'm sorry--"

"*You're* sorry?" Roy tried to figure out what to do with his sticky hand. "Jesus, I practically forced--"

"No!" Tim jumped to his feet. "That's not--"

Roy wiped his hand on his shirt with a wince. "I got carried away. I should know--"

"Shut up."

Still breathless, Roy watched him step closer.

"We both got carried away," Tim said, voice so low it was almost inaudible.

Roy jammed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't reach out to Tim. "It wasn't a good idea. I haven't had time to think this through."

"You haven't thought about me?"
oy foy felt his face grow warm and when was the last time somebody made him *blush*? "I didn't say that. But I wasn't, ah, that is, I didn't think about the issues involved. I need some time. God, I sound like a girl." Tim's tiny quirk of the lips felt like a victory.

"Roy, nothing happened just now that I didn't want as much as you." Tim stared at him, seeming to will him to understand. "Maybe not what we intended...but not a bad thing."

"But you're--"

"Young?" Tim glared. "I've been Robin since I was thirteen. Jesus, I survived the Clench. I helped shepherd Gotham through No Man's Land. I've been in outer space. I can match every damn experience you've had with the Titans or the Outsiders. What does chronological age have to do with anything?"

"Look, I just need to think about this." Roy swallowed as Tim slowly inclined his head. "Give me some time to think."

A short, sharp nod and Tim turned toward the door.

"Wait," Roy paused, not quite sure what he wanted to do, "you don't have to go home just yet. After all, we've got hours before Lian comes back. I was planning to watch a movie with lots of car chases and fight scenes to mock. Care to join me?"

Tim studied him, face carefully blank. "Provide the popcorn and it's a deal."

There was no way this was going to work, Roy thought as they went to the video store. He couldn't offer Tim whatever it was he needed, but he also couldn't let him just walk out the door and lose a new friend. He didn't have so many of those that he could waste them indiscriminately.
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Finding Hozho