His stomach is all tied up in knots, but Jason's pretty sure it's more in an excited way than a nervous way. There's some nervousness there too, but not as much as the excitement, he decides as he pulls the last parts of his new uniform.
"How's it going?" Bruce calls from outside the changing rooms.
"Chill out, give me a minute!" Jason calls back. "It's not like I'm on some death-defying mission. I'm just getting dressed!"
Jason smirks when he hears Bruce huff in response. Pulling on his gloves, Jason steps out of the changing rooms and spreads his arms wide. "Wingman, reporting for patrol!"
"You look good," Tim says.
"'Cause I feel good," Jason brags, doing a spin and shrugging his shoulders to make the padded details there flex. "And of course I look good, Alfie and I worked hard on the design."
"It suits you well," Alfred says, coming close and carefully straightening one side of the uniform's collar.
Jason grins and lets him fuss. "Better than your first post-Robin attempt, right, Dickiebird?"
"I still say it was a good suit," Dick says.
"We call it Discowing for a reason, dude," Jason says.
Tim grins. "You really call it Discowing?"
"No," Dick says.
"Yeah, we do," Jason says.
"I don't," Dick says petulantly.
Jason snorts. "Yeah, well, I think Wingman's debut is much better-looking than Discowing's, at least."
"I'm not agreeing with that," Dick says.
"But I'll agree," Tim says, shuffling a few papers and shooting a curious look at Dick.
"Betrayal," Dick moans, flopping around in the chair he's seated in. "Oh, betrayal by my own brothers."
Tim's grin falters for a split second as Dick begins to speak, then returns full-force by the time Dick's done.
"Well, shall we?" Jason asks.
"I'll get the Batmobile," Dick offers, leaping from his chair and rushing toward the vehicle storage bay.
"Not a chance," Bruce says, then again, more hurriedly as he starts to follow Dick, "Dick? Not a chance, I said!"
Jason laughs, and he shares a glance with Alfred. "As if B would forget Dick's grounded from driving the Batmobile again."
"Master Bruce doesn't tend to forget much, and Master Dick's current lack of Batmobile driving privileges would be towards the bottom of the list of things he might forget," Alfred muses.
"I still want to see the footage of the crash from last time," Tim says. "Dick really thought he could drive with his feet?"
"No, he knew he could drive with his feet, right up until he really couldn't," Jason says. He raises his helmet's visor and winks at Tim through his mask.
Tim leans back in his chair and winks back. "I see."
"And I want to see you get going, but not until I get a photograph," Alfred says.
"For posterity?" Jason says.
Alfred nods. "For posterity. Allow me to retrieve the camera."
As Alfred walks away, Jason takes a deep breath. Now's the perfect time. "Hey, Tim?"
Tim looks up from the papers he'd been shuffling. "Yeah?"
"So, with me being Wingman," Jason says. He takes another deep breath. "You know, there's a vacancy in the Robin position."
Tim blinks, staring at Jason.
Jason stares back at Tim, waiting.
Slowly, Tim says, "You don't mean…"
"I do mean it," Jason says. "You're part of the family, and I'd love to give it to you. If you'd ever want it, you can have it."
Tim bites down on his lower lip.
"Lip," Jason says as a reminder, trying to keep his tone firm but gentle.
Tim lets go of his lip with his teeth and picks up a fidget toy in one hand. "I don't… I don't know."
"Think about it," Jason suggests.
Alfred returns with the camera then, probably having waited for that conversation to wrap up like the all-knowing butler he is, and Jason gets his picture taken before heading off to patrol.
It's a good patrol. Jason missed patrolling, swinging between rooftops, fighting off bad guys, delivering justice for those in need. It's over far too fast, Bruce believing Jason needs to "ease back into it" and returning Jason to the Cave with a firm reminder that Jason's supposed to go right up to bed, Alfred's waiting for him, and all that.
Jason waves goodbye as Batman and Nightwing head back out for the rest of their patrol. Then he heads to the changing rooms and peels off the Wingman suit.
When he goes to put it away, though, he stops.
There's a folded-up note taped neatly to the hook for the Wingman helmet.
Jason picks it up and unfolds it, fondly reads Tim's crooked handwriting.
Jason. Thank you. Thank you for everything. You've helped me in so many ways, and you want to keep helping me, and I want to help you too. The thought of being Robin scares me a little, but… In a good way, I think. I don't know if I could ever be Robin, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. If I can be Robin, I think I want to be. Thank you, and love you. Tim.
AN: We're starting to wrap up here, folks! Just a few more chapters, maybe three or so! Let me know what you think!