When Stephanie Brown had awoke that morning there had been a little note on her dresser, one that had meant the world to her because it meant the night before hadn't been just a dream; the slightly slanting scrawl of the note proved it had been real. It had been nice sleeping so close to Tim, feeling safe in his arms even if it meant feeling that familiar surge of emotions well up inside her, ones that she thought had died away when she'd started dating someone new. The truth was that she loved Tim, really loved him; she had for a long time and now she finally had the slight reassurance that he felt the same. She wanted to see him, wanted him to spend the night again and maybe this time she wouldn't feel so awkward. He was Tim after all, her best friend, and he had been the only one there for her for so long, through more than anyone else had, and maybe, just maybe there was some hope for Steph's heart in the long run.
She went about her daily routine – school, work and then patrol as usual. It was late when she finally came back to the empty apartment, and sadly there was no sign of Tim Drake to be found. Gotham had been decided Tim-less that day, she hadn't even seen him on her usual patrol circuit. Disappointed, she didn't let it show too much, not until she was back in her bedroom and started to shed the layers of her Spoiler gear. Her cape was tugged off and thrown over the desk chair, hands struggling to reach the zipper on the skintight black suit. Only then, once she was alone, did she let the smallest of frowns creep up onto her lips, but it was banished away fast – she felt like she was being watched.
There was something innately fascinating, amusing, and fulfilling about impersonating the Tim Drake of this dimension. Maybe it was how everyone trusted him. Maybe it was the way his new suit got criminals quaking in their fashionable booties. Sure, he was starting to get a reputation for stealing their loot, but really, mugging muggers was half the fun, and if he waited long enough he couldn't be reasonably expected to return some woman's purse. Honestly, anyone walking down the streets of Gotham in the wee small hours deserved what happened to them. He was taken out of his musings when an alert popped up on his HUD, it looked like Steph was back in her apartment. He glanced at the screen and a video feed showed her half undressed, struggling to reach her zipper – perfect. With a tap to his belt, Tim was gone from the rooftops of a warehouse and shimmering into existence behind her. A flick of his hand moved his face plate up so that it rested like a hat upon the crown of his head. His voice was its regular tenor as he brought up a gloved hand and placed it at her shoulder. "Hey, Steph. Need a hand?"
Even though the only exposed skin on Steph's body was her face after removing her black mask, her hands instinctively covered over her chest and her body coiled down slightly. It took her a minute to realize that it was in fact, the person she'd been waiting for all day. The reassuring hand on her shoulder had her posture relaxing quickly but her voice still came out in a meek little squeak. "You scared me." But not as much as he could have, Tim silently noted to himself before giving her a solemn apology. "Yeah, um, you don't mind, do you? I just got in from patrol, haven't had a chance to, you know, get comfy yet." While Steph spoke, Tim tried really hard not to let a giant grin spread his lips, and for the most part he succeeded though there was no hiding the slight upward curve of his lips. He found Steph's floundering hilarious. "There should, um. Be a zipper by my neck." Her hands, trembling only slightly, moved the majority of her blonde hair away from her back and neck, trying to make it easier for him to reach it. Steph felt a little odd asking him to undress her, but he had offered, hadn't he? She'd let other teammate unzip the back of her costume before, and it hadn't felt embarrassed. Why should this be any different?
Tim helped himself to a stealthy once over of her fully covered, but still practically naked body – those leather bodysuits really left nothing to the imagination – and after an awkward shrug, two parts shamed school boy, one part eager beaver to get her undressed, he moved his hand to the zipper and yanked it half way down her back in one smooth pull, baring the light, smooth expanse of her back. "I was just in the neighborhood." He worked that zipper down a little further. "I saw you get in, figured I'd see how you were after, uh, last night." He seemed so caring and sincere, asking how she was after their tension filled moment which had turned cuddles, but mainly it was a distraction as the zipper went down a little further still. Steph could slightly see his reflection in the mirror over her dresser and couldn't help but smile when he did; he grinned at her being stupid and didn't roll his eyes like most people did. That was a good sign right? If only she had known it was all just an elaborate act and that the Tim she knew was nothing like the Tim that stood behind her.