"So let me get this straight," Stephanie began after getting him situated beside Fatso on the couch, pulling up her own purple dining chair to sit in front of him. She continued slowly, unwrapping her burger as she talked. "You came to my house in the middle of the night wearing a dark red hoodie and climbed up the fire escape because why?"

"I need you." He rolled his eyes.

"Everyone needs me, I'm a very needable person." Taking a bite out of her sandwich she ignored proper manners and asked again, "What do you need me for?"

"A mission, top secret, can't tell anyone."

"Helpful."

When they were younger his eyes always seemed to drift to the ground when he was embarrassed, now she couldn't begin to tell you what it meant. They had a strictly work relationship, she didn't know him anymore.

"It's bad, huh." She concluded.

"I've been in the tabloids. The Gotham Scribe, North Star, you name them. My face has been showing up and it's not ideal." He knew. Of course he knew, the Waynes knew therefore he knew.

"Yeah, I read something about you being a drug dealing prostitute a while back, got a new job at the library and couldn't help but notice." If she didn't know better she could have sworn he was blushing. Was he blushing? Was it possible for the Red Robin to actually be a very red robin?

"The press is following me."

"So you climb my fire escape dressed like a maniac?" Another bite.

"I could hardly put on a costume until they're distracted." Suddenly everything about Steph's apartment was more interesting than her, especially the bare brick walls just behind her. "Which is where you come in."

What.

"You're going to have to put that in plain English, Tim, I don't speak crazy rich boy talk. If you haven't noticed I'm not exactly dressed to the nines and drinking champagne here." She gestured to her general attire, a large oversized bootleg Green Lantern t shirt and a pair of boxers that Tim prayed she had purchased for herself. Her hair was in a large lopsided bun (that was being generous), and she had ketchup on the side of her mouth. Perhaps he needed a second option instead. "You gotta tell me what you need me for and I have to check my crazy busy schedule."

"Date. You and I need to date." That seemed simple enough.

But sounded completely wrong.

They sat in silence for a good minute before he corrected himself.

"Fakely, we need to fake date." Ever the way with words, Drake.

Seeming to take the time to mull it over, she finished her burger and slowly got up to throw away the wrapper, taking her sweet time in all of her actions. When she returned she sat down slowly and calmly, looking him directly in the eyes. "No."

"I understand your hesitation." He began, standing up to walk to her, "But I can-"

"It doesn't matter what you can do, I won't. I have a nice life and I'm not going out in the spotlight for my ex boyfriend to tote me around like some trophy."

"You could get connections, this could land you a job right out of college." He rationalized, kneeling in front of her.

It was the mere action of tucking her hair behind her ear that set her off the most, that made her want to take her cat and leave.

"I'm a responsible adult now Tim, I have a job and classes to take. I started caring for a life other than my own even." And with that sudden point the mangy cat known as Fatso was brought back into view.

"Is that even your cat?" He questioned.

"That's beside the point, Tim! I have a life, people to see, places to be, new guys to kiss." Definitely new guys to kiss, there was this guy named Nate at the library? Let's just say she's a sucker for blue eyes. "I don't need to be spending my nights on the town with my ex boyfriend. Our work relationship is already confusing enough!"

"Stephanie, kissing new guys hasn't exactly worked out for you in the past, not that I've heard."

She clapped her hand over his mouth, glaring. "You don't know me, Tim! You don't know my story."

And he reacted by simply rolling his eyes and removing her hand. With just a simple action he seemed to say, I know you more than other people.

And that was too much.

"I know your weakness, Stephanie Brown." He did, he definitely did.

"I'm an adult now, that's not going to work."

"Watch it work."

It was moments like this that he reminded her of the young Tim Drake, the non-gigantic dickhole.

But then he had to do the thing, the one thing she asked him not to.

And suddenly his hands were on her face in that sorta barely there make her knees wobble kind of way.

And his hand tilted her chin to face him,

And his mouth did that sort of sad smile,

And his eyes did that thing where they were just so blue and deep and god why didn't anyone fucking drown in them before because that's all she wanted to do- With the thing she was back to being a stupid teenager crawling around on rooftops in the dark, she was back to watching him calculate plans with his hand on her arms to keep her from running;

She was back to not saying no again.

"This is cheating, you're a cheat and you know it." Sigh.

"This is utilization of resources in a desperate situation." He replied calmly.

She found herself cursing whatever part of her body it was that was making her behave like this, leaning back further in her chair to avoid his gaze.

He leaned in closer.

He had stubble on his face now, actual stubble arranged in some sort of five o'clock shadow with just the right amount of thickness that Stephanie began wondering if Satan actually had the time to arrange traps for her in the shape of men. Was someone in her room listening to her wet dreams or was this just a cruel twist of fate?

She leaned back further, arching her back on the top of the chair to achieve optimum away from Drake-ness.

His eyelashes were still thick, plush, wonderful. His lips had filled out slightly as they'd gotten older, he didn't look like he was sucking on a lemon constantly anymore and she highly doubted she could tease him about biting it when the mere thought stirred things in her-

She had to be strong, to have some sort of resolve. She looked away from his face, anywhere really, towards where the cat should be.

His arm was there instead.

Well, that explained why she hadn't fallen yet.

"If I say yes…"

"We'll just do the bare minimum to sell it." He slowly started backing away, providing some much needed relief.

"I want a real date then. No appearances without meaning, I want free food and dancing. It'll look better that way, people will buy it easier."

"Is that a yes?"

She just needed sometime to compose herself, sometime to recover from the obvious age long drought that had made her react to Tim Fucking Drake Boy Virgin Slash Professional Ex Boyfriend Extraordinaire. She just needed sometime to not be beet red and overwhelmed by him.

He started to lean in again.

"Is this some sort of new batfamily torture technique?" Joking she looked anywhere, anywhere else.

"Steph."

"You already got a practical yes, leave me alone Satan."

Enough to insight a laugh from him, Tim straighten himself up from his predatory position, still holding her chair to insure that she would not end up as the new delicious breakfast treat of scrambled Stephs.

"Next Friday at seven, charity ball, don't eat beforehand."

And with that (And the fifteen minutes Steph took to compose herself) he was gone, thankfully having chosen the front door instead of the window this time.

And Steph was frustrated yet again.

"I need to learn to say no to a pair of pretty blue eyes." She groaned, the ending music of Grease playing in the background as somewhere deep in her soul she cursed his casual conversation pace for ruining her whole movie.

"Meow," replied Fatso, true.

"And I need to get laid."

"Meow."

Well, there was always time in the next week to woo the library hand Nate, and truthfully speaking there was one thing Tim overlooked in this situation...