"I should go," Tecna says, even as she settles more firmly against the lounge.

"Yeah," Timmy agrees, trying to keep his mind from zeroing in on where Tecna's shoulder and hip press warm against his.

The coffee table in front of them is strewn with blueprints, plans, and lists, all accumulated over the semester they've spent designing their own computer. Every spare moment, in between attacks by witches and investigations into the Dragon Flame or course, they've devoted to their little project.

"It's getting late," Tecna adds, fighting off a yawn even as her eyes continue to trace over the plans.

"You'll miss your bus," Timmy says with a nod, then points to the haphazard sketch she holds. "Maybe if we replace that wire with something better-"

"Is it a wire?" Tecna asks, peering closer at the smudge. "I thought that was the edge of the valve."

Timmy frowns at it. "Is it? Maybe you're right, or could it be-"

Tecna groans and drops the page back on top of all the others, declaring with a sigh that she's done for the night. This is where Tecna would usually stand with her usual brisk nod, thank him for a pleasant evening, maybe make plans for next time, before leaving. This is where Timmy would usually follow her to the door, try to stretch out the conversation as long as possible, before reluctantly saying goodbye and heading back to gather up the loose pages back into it's folder that's simply marked 'Tecna' because the sight of her name makes him smile.

But she doesn't do that. So neither does he.

Tecna/Timmy - Accidentally falling asleep together

Instead she slouches back in a very un-Tecna-like fashion, and rubs gently at her eyes. "I am not looking forward to the bus ride back," she admits, but Timmy doesn't hear her. Because his ears have gone strangely muffled. Because Tecna's head has drooped sideways to rest against his shoulder.

"Uh, that uh- that- that-" he says numbly. His first instinct is to fidget with his glasses, his usual and most obvious nervous tick, but the thought that that would jostle her stops him in his tracks. "I could always drop you back on my bike before curfew," he eventually says, barely recognising his own voice.

"Really?" Tecna says drowsily, leaning against him more fully now. And Timmy has never heard her so relaxed, her voice usually so clipped and to the point. "You're the best, Timmy."

"You're welcome, Tec."