A coffee a day keeps Mr. Hyde at bay.

Tim drums his fingers on the old wooden table in the Gotham University library, not even trying to hide his impatience anymore at the absolute buffoon sitting across from him. Group projects have never been a favorite of his for this very reason. Someone always tries to get out of doing something and he ends up having or shoulder the load. Teams of three or four aren't too bad but this time, it's just the two of them.

And this asshole thinks he can foist everything off onto Tim because he says he has to work this weekend and doesn't have time.

He knows the guy doesn't. He checked. He doesn't even have a job.

Tim raises an eyebrow. He's not going to give him the glare yet. "Really? How're we going to make this happen then? I work too." It's only a partial lie. He may not work at WE on the weekends but this guy doesn't have to know that.

The guy stutters and looks confused for a moment before he recovers and spouts another excuse that Tim doesn't buy. The blonde freshman is here on a football scholarship; Tim is here through blood, sweat, tears, and an unholy desire to stick it solidly to Damian (just a few more years to go).

There is no doubt in his mind who's going to win here. And it's not the epitome of every dumb jock stereotype he's ever seen sitting across from him, that's for certain.

He starts to glare over the rim of his glasses. "Look, just because I'm the youngest CEO ever to take over a multi-national conglomerate does not mean I'm going to take this project on by myself. Either do your part or don't. My grade can take the hit, can yours?"

Rhetorical question. He already knows it can't.

The other guy blanches and tries to backtrack.

"I don't care what plans you already have for the weekend or that you're supposed to be going out of town with some chick. Either do your part or don't. Push comes to shove, we both know who the professor's going to believe." The glare is getting harder.

He's reminded again of why he really should have stuck it out and finished high school like a normal kid. Because then he could have graduated with honors and some college credits already under his belt so that he didn't have to be in idiot classes like this one with thick-necked morons who got in by the skin of their teeth on a sports scholarship. Perhaps if he'd taken a few extra weeks to study for the GED, he would have passed with the honors certificate.

Too late for regrets now (he's got enough of them already, really).

By this point, the guy seems to realize he's not going to talk his way out of this and tries to start his own intimidation game with Tim.

It fails miserably. Tim has never felt less intimidated in his life.

"Look, asshole, either do your part or explain to coach why you're failing English 102. I bet he's going to be full of sympathy when he hears your little sob story."

Tim can just feel the anger seething in his veins. He gets pushed around enough at WE as it is, he is not going to put up with this here.

There must be something slipping out through the cracks in his facade because his partner finally backs down. He looks a little apprehensive actually.

Good. It'll make things easier if they ever have to work together in the future.

Assignment divided between them, Tim stands and leaves the library. He's still riled up and almost stomps his way across the commons to the one place on campus he likes more than the library - the coffee shop that's attached to the bookstore and student union.

He waits in line and soon enough, a tall cup of warm caffeinated goodness is in his hands. At the first sip, he can feel the tension bleeding away. After the second, his anger starts receding. By the time he's halfway through the cup, he feels normal again.

Tim shakes his head wryly as he realizes what he's just done. Kon has teased him about his Jekyll and Hyde impersonation before when he either hasn't had enough sleep or had enough caffeine.

A coffee a day keeps Mr. Hyde away, he thinks as he finishes his drink and starts the walk back across campus to his next class.

But really, it's the Bat-glare that keeps the idiots at bay.