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Dancing On My Own starts blasting from Steph’s phone. Tim sighs and stands up in his chair.
“What?” Steph asks, looking up at him as she grabs her phone.
“I’m leaving,” he says, and demonstrates this by moving towards the door.
Steph, now with her phone at her ear and waiting for the call to connect, makes a facial expression at him that roughly translates to why, you traitor?
Tim makes a face. “I hate listening to you and Dick have phone conversations. I always feel like you’re talking about me. Especially when you start laughing.”
Steph gasps, puts a hand to her chest, and makes another facial expression; this one roughly translating to why, that is totally untrue and incredibly offensive, I can’t believe you would say this to me.
Tim rolls his eyes and walks out of the room. The call connects.
Steph says, “Dick, you wouldn’t believe what Tim just said to me,”
Dick starts laughing. “Was it about how he thinks we secretly judge him when we talk? He’s given me that speech too. Totally inaccurate.”
“Right?” Steph huffs. “We would never judge anybody in behind their backs. We’re more than willing to do it out loud and to their faces.”
Dick continues to laugh. It’s a pretty good sound. Steph’s been cataloguing things in her life that she appreciates in her journal, and laughter tends to feature a lot. Her therapist tells her it’s a good exercise in identifying happiness. Acknowledging her positive emotions to give them strength and permanence.
Furthermore, it’s important to voice this sentiment, especially if it’s to do with other people. Sincerity is important. Genuine compliments are important. So Steph gathers her courage and says, “I like your laugh, Dick.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Then, Dick says, “Aw, Steph. Thank you,” and sounds so genuine that Steph feels herself getting a little embarrassed. “I like your laugh too, eggplant girl.”
Steph snort-laughs. “Shut up, bird boy,” she says, feeling pleased and fond and overall happy despite the inherent cringeness of sincerity. “This is a terrible conversation and I regret starting it. What were you calling for?”
Obviously holding back more laughter, Dick says, “Oh, right. Buckle yourself in, because you won’t believe what I saw Damian doing when I picked him up from school yesterday,”
Steph grins and does a little spin in her stool. “Please, do tell,”
-
It’s been a while since they’ve patrolled together, which is what Steph blames for her gasp of awe when Dick flips off of a fire escape and catches himself on the railing of the balcony opposite. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, but that doesn’t stop it from being impressive. Especially since he makes it look so easy.
After sticking the landing, he looks back at her, taps his comm, and says, “You okay?”
Steph puts a thumb up at him, and connects her comm too. “Perfectly peachy,” she replies. “Just haven’t seen you in action for a while.”
Executing her own jump, although it’s considerably less flashy, she lands next to Dick. He grins at her.
Out loud, he jokes, “Dazzled by my skill and expertise?”
Steph could play along, sure, but she doesn’t quite feel like it. Straightening up, she glances at Dick, and then looks forward. “A little,” she says, feeling her ears go hot and valiantly ignoring it. “You’re very good at this. I’m used to seeing it, but it’s still impressive.”
Dick goes silent. Steph tries not to die under the force of her embarrassment.
“Thank you,” Dick says eventually, and Steph can’t tell for sure but she thinks he might sound a little embarrassed too. Which is nice to know. Equality, and such. “That means a lot to hear, Spoiler. I think you’re really talented too, just for the record. You’re one of the hardest workers I know, and it’s really amazing how much you’ve achieved already.”
Never let it be said that Dick Grayson doesn’t give as good as he gets; Steph thought her embarrassment had been bad before, but now it really might be fatal. She coughs out a laugh.
“Thank you,” she replies. They both fall silent. The sounds of the city filter in to fill the space, making Steph feel keenly aware of how ridiculous this situation is, and how glad she is to be here anyway.
Eventually, Dick says, “Should we go?”
“Let’s go,” Steph replies immediately. “Please. Let’s go.”
And so they go.
-
“Steph,” Tim says, slipping into her living room from the window.
“I have a door,” Steph says.
Tim ignores her and closes the window behind him, before standing up straight and dusting himself off. “I have been sent as a messenger,”
“Like, it’s right there. You know the code to it, as well. You could just open it and go through.”
Tim sits himself down on the couch next to her. “Dick wants to know why you’ve been complimenting him so much.” There’s a bowl of cookies sitting on the coffee table that Steph had just baked, and he eyes them. “Did you just make those?”
She makes a face. “And he made you relay this message? And, yes, I did.”
Tim shrugs. “He made Cass at first, actually, but she decided this was a non-problem and doesn’t think anything needs to be done about it. So the duty falls to me instead. Gluten-free?”
“You know it.” Steph offers him one of the cookies. “Does that imply you think that it’s a problem?”
Tim shoves half of it in his face in one go. “It’s out of the ordinary enough that I don’t mind,” he says, through his mouthful because he’s a gross little boy.
Steph nods, and takes a cookie for herself. “So you’re nosy,”
“I’m very nosy,” Tim agrees, now on his second mouthful. The cookie has disappeared.
Steph laughs. “It’s endearing,” she tells him, because it’s true.
Tim frowns at her. “Is it?” he asks.
See, Steph had forgotten, so caught up in the euphoria of mutually embarrassing herself and Dick through sincerity, that other people wouldn’t receive it so well. Other people being repressed nerd losers like Tim Drake.
Still, she sticks to her guns. Might as well. “Yes,” she says, nodding very seriously. “It is.”
Tim narrows his eyes at her. “Is this what he was talking about?”
Steph nods. She pauses, weighing up her options, and figures that if she’s going to tell anybody, she’s going to tell Tim. “I’ve been going to therapy,” she says.
Tim, very carefully, doesn’t let his expression change. “Oh,” he says, nodding. “Cool.”
Steph snorts. “Yeah, very cool. One thing we talked about was identifying the things that made me happy and what I cared about, and voicing my appreciation for them. Acknowledging happiness and such. So. Yeah.”
Tim nods again, slow and unsure. “Okay,” he says, “cool.”
It’s cute. Tim’s at his best when he’s being an absolute dork, Steph finds.
“That means you’re one of the things I care about,” she says, her confidence growing as Tim’s embarrassment starts looming.
“Uh-huh.”
“I care about you, Tim,”
Tim sits there in silence, the tips of his ears deep crimson.
She raises her eyebrows at him.
He breathes in deeply, and says, shakily, “I care about you too, Steph. A lot. I’m, uh, I know I’m not good at showing it but… I do.”
Steph grins at him. “Great effort,” she teases, “have a cookie.”
Scrunching up his nose, Tim takes the cookie. “You trying to Pavlov me into sincerity?”
She laughs. “Will it work?”
“Maybe,”
“Then maybe,”
Tim laughs too. Great sound. That one’s going in her journal entry for today.
-
In the end, Steph ends up talking to Dick about it herself. Because, seriously, Tim is a terrible messenger. She doesn’t know what Dick was thinking.
She calls him, even though she’d like to have this conversation face to face, it’s hard to find time to go all the way to New York. As the phone rings, she smiles, thinking about how DONTTRUSTME is blaring on the other side. She had changed her ringtone to that herself, the first time she had successfully hacked Dick’s phone. He’s kept it ever since.
Maybe she’ll put that in her journal too.
On the seventh ring, Dick picks up, sounding out of breath. “Sorry, couldn’t find my phone,” he huffs.
Steph giggles. “All good, all good,” she replies. “How’s it hanging, Dickolas?”
Laughing, Dick replies, “Perfectly peachy, Stephrey. What brings you to my phoneline?”
Well. Might as well get right into it. “Tim’s a terrible person to send as messenger, just so you know. He broke in through my window and ate my cookies.”
Dick gasps. “And he didn’t steal any to bring back to me! That bastard,”
They both break into laughter. Seriously, easily top five sounds of all time. Even her own. She’s learning to appreciate all these moments, stealing laughter in the sun.
When they fall silent again, Steph says, “I’ve been going to therapy.”
Dick stays silent, and Steph knows that she’s 100% projecting, but it still feels like a reassuring silence nonetheless.
“I’ve been going to therapy,” she repeats, “and my therapist told me that I should try to acknowledge and voice my appreciation for everything that makes me happy,”
“Identifying sources of positivity in your life,” Dick says, knowingly, fondly. Steph grins.
“Exactly,” she replies. She hesitates; there’s always hesitation, and she doesn’t know if it’ll ever go away entirely, but it comes easier and easier every time. “That’s the reason for the compliments,”
Dick’s smile is the kind that you can hear even without seeing it, and she hears it now, bright and happy. “I see,” he says, sounding deeply endeared, and it’s such a miracle, really, that Steph has found such wonderful people to be around. “I’m honoured to be a source of positivity in your life, Steph,”
She smiles, and smiles, and smiles. “Don’t let it get to your head,” she quips, and Dick laughs, again. Maybe that’s it. Maybe she likes laughter so much, other people’s laughter, because hearing it is a sign that she’s a source of positivity in their life. It’s a remarkable privilege to make somebody laugh. To know you’re bringing them joy.
So Dick laughs, and she laughs too, and the world feels a bit lighter.