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School has finally finished and it’s only a matter of hours before Tim will be starting his training in the Batcave, but Tim is standing outside of Bruce’s private office, deep in thought. There’s something he has been meaning to ask. Something that’s been on his mind for a while now.
It’s nothing bad, of course! It’s just that … ever since Bruce accepted him into training as Robin, Tim has been working hard to earn the mantle. He takes his training days very seriously, therefore. But the thing is, Tim has got something coming up this Friday.
Something that directly affects his role as Robin.
See, all Tim wants is to ask for permission to skip Friday’s training to attend the photography exhibit he has been arduously working on for the past couple of months.
Deciding to take the bull by the horns, Tim knocks on the door. A moment later he hears a gentle ‘Come in,’ so he enters the room. Seated at his giant desk with what appears to be an important document held in his hands, is Bruce, who seems to be surprised at seeing Tim.
Tim can’t fault him. They usually meet at eight to train, but Tim has been so anxious about the reply he’d get that he decided to ask Bruce three hours earlier than their scheduled session.
“Hi, Bruce,” Tim says softly, ignoring the nervous feeling he’s been carrying around. Nothing bad is going to happen, he reminds himself, shaking off his remaining anxiety. This is, of course, Tim’s mind playing games with him. He just has to follow the script he spent all afternoon preparing and surely Bruce will be understanding.
See? No need to get anxious over this. Tim’s got this.
With that in mind, Tim gives his mentor a smile.
“Hello, Tim,” Bruce says warmly, resting the document he was perusing on top of his desk, and looks at Tim curiously. It dawns on Tim that this is the earliest Bruce has ever seen his protégé arrive at the manor. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yes,” Tim squeaks out, like the not-nervous wreck that he is. He clears his throat, and looks around, because he’s entertained by all the tiny figurines that decorate Bruce’s desk, and not because he’s avoiding Bruce’s piercing stare.
“Um, are you busy? Can we talk?”
“I’m not busy right now,” Bruce replies, placing both of his hands on the desk. Tim thinks he's probably just using good manners: he was obviously busy when Tim came in. "Tell me, is there something I can help you with?”
“Right. So um, I-” he stammers and decides to bite the bullet, right away, “I don’t think I’ll be able to patrol this Friday.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Bruce's face before it is replaced by a calm façade. His eyes wander to the calendar that is pinned up on the wall and he lets out a soft hum.
“Friday the fifth?”
“Yeah,” Tim replies. “It’s this week.”
“I’ll notify Alfred about your absence,“ Bruce says, scribbling down the date in his notebook as a reminder. “Do you need the weekend as well?”
“Oh no! It’s just this Friday,” Tim goes on to reply. Inwardly Tim’s doing a mini victory dance Yes! He thinks excitedly. Bruce said yes!
“I see,” Bruce says, deep in thought. “Are your parents coming to town this Friday?”
“Oh no, they’re still out of town.” Knowing his parents and how busy they are, they would probably be out of town for the next couple of months, but Bruce doesn’t need to know that. There is no need to concern him with Tim’s personal life. “It has to do with a personal project of mine.”
“A personal project,” Bruce says, curious now. “I see.”
He sits on the back of his chair and stares at Tim, who tries his hardest not to squirm under his gaze
“Do you want to share this personal project of yours with me?”
A small, silent pause settles between them.
“It’s my photography exhibit,” Tim says softly, avoiding his gaze. His face is flushed a bright red. “The one I’ve talked about before?”
“Yes, you mentioned liking photography before,” Bruce says with a frown. “I don’t recall that you mentioned participating in an exhibit before.”
“I took a photography class earlier this year. It’s been a lot of fun and… well, my teacher wants me to participate in the final showcase…?” Don’t ask Tim how that sentence ended up as a question—he has no idea either.
Bruce, on the other hand, doesn’t bother to hide the surprise on his face. His mouth falls open slightly as he stares at Tim. The next couple of words are said in a tone of disbelief: “You’ve been going to photography class all year?”
Once Tim has started, he can’t seem to stop and it all comes out in almost a single breath. “Oh yes! Every Tuesday at five o’clock… It’s on the other side of town, near Crime Alley. There aren’t many kids in that class. And the teacher really likes my work! So I kept going and one day she asked me if I could go to this exhibit of hers and I said yes! And I know I should’ve asked you for permission, of course, but she caught me off guard, and she was offering a cupcake, and I didn’t want to be rude and say no so I kind of said—”
“Why haven’t you mention this to me sooner, Tim?” Bruce asked. He looks at his protégé in utter disbelief.
“You know Alfred or I would have no trouble driving you there and picking you up, right?” Bruce presses on. “How have you been going to those classes on your own?”
“I didn’t think it would be important.”
This time, Bruce looks appalled. “Tim.”
“I didn’t want to bother anyone with my problems!”
“Tim, you would never be a bother to us,” Bruce replies firmly, trying to get his point across. “Of course, we would have no trouble driving you to your classes. Alfred and Dick adore you. What if something bad had happened to you? How would we have known if we didn’t even know where you were?
“Oh,” Tim mutters, feeling very stupid. Bruce is right. Tim should have at least told him where he was going every Tuesday afternoon. Now he is going to be mad and everything is Tim’s fault.
“I’m sorry, Bruce. I didn’t know,” Tim pleads, feeling like wanting to cry.
“I’m not angry. I’m frustrated I didn’t know about this sooner but I’m not mad at you,” Bruce replies. He lets out a sigh,“What time does your exhibit start?”
That manages to perk Tim up. “The exhibit is this Friday at 8pm. Um… so anyways, my teacher gave four tickets for anyone who wants to see the show, and I was thinking, maybe you might be interested? Like, I know you’ve got patrol and I obviously know how important it is for you to go, but I was thinking maybe you could come for a couple of minutes….? Nothing too long! I know you have a busy life and…”
When Bruce doesn’t reply immediately, Tim starts to panic.
”I mean, of course, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to! I understand you’ve got important things to do with Wayne Enterprises. Not everyone likes exhibits, silly me; you’re probably tired of going to those in the first place, sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Tim continues to blabber, wishing the earth would swallow him whole.
Gosh, this is so embarrassing. Why did he think this was a good idea to begin with? Why did he decide to invite Bruce? It’s clear he doesn’t want to go. Now every interaction between them will feel awkward thanks to stupid Tim, who’s always making a mess when he isn’t supposed to and—
“I’d love to go,” Bruce says, cutting Tim’s inner monologue short.
Wait, what? Tim stares at him in disbelief. What did Bruce just say?
“You… you would?” He asks timidly, hating how emotional he sounds. It’s stupid. Tim knows he’s getting worked up over nothing, but few people in his life have ever expressed interest in his hobbies, and even fewer have gone out of their way to watch his performances or exhibits. Tim can’t remember the last time his parents came to watch his school plays, for example.
And now, Bruce —Batman, the person Tim has looked up to for his entire life— wants to attend his photography exhibit.
“I’d love to come, Tim,” Bruce replies warmly. He looks decisive, like he’s a man on a mission. Like all he wants to do in this world is come and see Tim’s showcase. “You say you’ve been working all year on this project, right chum? What if we invite Alfred and Dick along? We can go there as a family, what do you think?”
“Do you really mean it?” Tim asks weakly. “Are you going to go?”
“Of course Tim,” Bruce says, sneaking a hand around his shoulder and tugging Tim towards him. The hug Bruce gives him is warm enough to banish any lingering doubt Tim has been carrying. Tim’s grin nearly splits his face in two.
“I’d love to.”