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Wayne Tech’s computer patience branch is one of the best jobs Gotham has to offer, and one of the most difficult to obtain. Only employing around one hundred people, Bruce Wane personally interviews each and every applicant. From there, the head of the department – Barbara Gordon – puts the applicants that pass the interview through the gauntlet of computer tests. Even then it’s a tossup, and weeks of waiting by the phone and eating away stress. If you’re lucky enough to get hired, you join the few, the proud.
The crazy.
Tim has been working for Wayne Tech for years now, from the moment he graduated (he was, as he understands, the only person to pass each stage of the hiring process in one day), and he has never met a more diverse, estranged, eccentric group of people. As a supervisor, Tim is in charge of six of said crazy people. During the day it wouldn’t be half bad, but his group has the late-night/early-bird shift, and policing six grown-ass adults at two in the morning gets rather difficult.
Still, Tim sort of loves them all.
After his accident, they were his backbone. His family. And he would probably still be sitting depressed in a hospital bed than in a wheelchair if it wasn’t for them. And it’s thanks to Tim’s generous boss that he has a high-tech chair rather than the manual one he’d had in the hospital. So Tim has a lot to be thankful for despite…no, because of the car accident that almost got him killed nearly eight months back.
After the physical therapy, the pills, the depression, and the psychiatrists, Tim isn’t in a bad place, and it’s utterly thanks to them.
-
Tim blinks as a mug of coffee is set down before him. He looks up at Stephanie Brown’s smiling face, leaning over the short wall separating his cubical from hers.
“Hey, Tim. Can I ask a favor?”
“Depends on what the favor is.” Though he’ll always say yes. It’s Steph.
“I’ve got this real asshole on my line and I can’t figure out how to help him. And I brought you coffee~” She sings the last part, “Can I dump him on you?”
Tim makes a show of sighing and frowning up at her, “I don’t know, Steph. I’m only about to beat the computer at solitaire for the thousandth time.”
Stephanie puts a sticky-note next to the steaming mug, “That’s the basic registration info. Line five. Thank you, Tim!”
He waves her off, “Yeah, yeah.” He takes a deep drink of coffee – mmm, hazelnut – before he hits the button for the line on his callbox and turns on his earphone.
And immediately hears jumbled words that sound like cursing.
Tim takes a moment to compose himself. It wouldn’t reflect well on the company to laugh at the customer. “I’m sorry for your wait, sir. How can I help you?”
“Maybe by not fucking transferring me every ten seconds.”
Tim winces. Oh. One of those people.
“This damn computer froze on me and when I restarted it, half my files were gone. I’ve got a fucking dissertation in two weeks and if I lose those files I swear-”
“Okay,” Tim interrupts, “Are you running the newest system? WT7?”
“Yeah. The girl already asked me that.”
Tim frowns, keeping his tone light, “Have you tried using the advanced system restore?”
“What?"
“It’s the option to set your computer back to its last restore point. Most operating systems can’t recover deleted files, but Wayne Tech software can.”
“And how do I get there?”
Tim directs the caller, a Mr. Jason Todd according to Steph’s registration info, through all the steps and doesn’t feel at all bad when he mutes his side of the conversation while the process takes place.
“Wow. Asshole.”
Steph pops back up, resting her arms on the top of the cubical wall. “Right! He drops a fuck-bomb every other word.”
Tim sighs, “There’s a stack of quarterly reports by the main printer. Will you run them to Barbara for me? I don’t know how long this will take.”
“Babs is still here?”
“Yeah-”
“Alright,” The voice in his ear cuts in, “Now what?”
Tim waves her off again, flipping his earphone back on, “Check to see if your files are there. If they are, create a new restore point. And I’d put your important files on a portable drive.”
There’s a beat of silence before Tim hears a click and the light over line 5 goes dead. Tim blinks and drops his arms to the desk, pens rattling at the sudden movement.
Well, then.
-
“Hey, Tim?”
Tim glances up, taking in Stephanie’s puzzled expression.
“Yeah?"
“You know that asshole from a few nights ago?”
“Is he back?” Tim lifts an eyebrow.
“Line 2,” She blinks rapidly, “He’s…apologizing.”
Tim pauses, “Uh. What?”
“He says he wants to apologize to the guy who told him to buy a flash drive. I’m assuming that was you?”
“Yeah, I. Yeah.” Tim picks up the line, “Hello?”
“Hey,” Jason Todd, if Tim remembers right, sounds a lot more relaxed than he had before, “You’re who I talked to the other night, right?”
“I am,” Tim rubs the bridge of his nose.
“Good. Okay. Sorry for being such an asshole.”
Tim turns his attention back to Fruit Ninja, “I’ve dealt with worse.”
“Seriously. I feel like a total ass.”
Tim slices through an orange. “You’re seriously apologizing? I mean, you really feel bad?”
“I feel like an ass.”
“Oh.” Tim blinks, game forgotten. “I. Wow. I’m not used to this. Um. Apology accepted, I guess?”
A strange, grateful sigh comes from the other line. “Great. Got to go.”
Tim hears the click signifying the end of the call. Tim’s never had anyone call back to apologize for being rude over the phone. What a peculiar guy.
-
As it turns out, Jason Todd is a peculiar guy. Within the next two weeks, he calls the maintenance branch several times, somehow ending up with Tim each call. His problems range from fingerprint scanners to remembering his security passwords. Each call becomes less and less substantial, and Tim is having a hard time believing anyone has this many computer problems.
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking.”
“I think I’ve lost all hope in you, Mr. Todd. How do you not already have an email?”
“I just didn’t need one. My school has a student email so I just use that. Now I need a personal one.”
“Do you know how many websites host free email? There is literally nothing you need to call me for.”
“But Wayne Tech has built-in email, right?”
“It takes you step by step. Step by step, Mr. Todd.”
“Are you implying you have somewhere better to be? It’s like…three in the morning.”
“Why are you even awake this late? Early? Aren’t you in college?”
“Grad school. And my classes are all at night, and I’m eating dinner.”
“Breakfast, some would say.”
“Point is, I’m an important customer, here.” Tim can hear him chewing on something. Really? “So help me out, Mr. Tech Line.”
Tim sighs, “Fine. Fine. But I reserve the right to treat you half your age during this explanation. Now see that start button at the bottom of the screen? Click it.”
-
It’s been one month since Jason’s first call, and by this point, he’s given up trying to make excuses. He calls mostly when he gets bored with his thesis, or dissertation, or whichever he’s doing, and chats Tim up for an hour before returning to his work.
Tim, for the most part, is amused. Jason is certainly an interesting character to talk to. He’s apparently held an array of weird jobs over the years, from pigeon wrangler to procuring shoelaces for street kids, and he’s…well, he’s very lively. Tim has started to enjoy talking to him. Okay, lie. Tim really enjoys talking to him. Jason is…is…
Is it possible to like someone you’ve never met face-to-face? Tim supposes it is, because that’s how he’s starting to feel about Jason. It has to be the flirting. Jason always sounds like he’s flirting. But if he knew…
“So what’s your name anyway?”
Tim is brought back to the conversation biting back a smile, “I think it’s against company policy to tell you that.”
“Yeah? You gonna lose your job over it? Or are you worried that I’m going to turn out to be some crazed serial killer?” Jason’s tone is ripe with amusement.
Tim snorts, “Fine. But you better not turn out to be a serial killer.”
“Cross my heart, scout’s honor and all that.”
Tim grins at his computer screen where Stephanie has been sending him a running commentary of her own client-from-hell through instant messages, tapping his thumb on the space bar lightly. “It’s Tim.”
“No last name, Tim?”
“Well,” Tim ducks his head even though he’s alone at his desk, “you have to work harder for that.”
-
“How’s your thesis going, anyway?”
“Dissertation? I turned it in a while back. Haven’t heard anything yet, but there’s like fifty kids in the class, so I’m not surprised.” Jason yawns, “How the fuck do you keep these hours? Do you even get time to do anything fun?”
“I have fun,” Tim defends, “I…go to the library. And I…watch movies at home.”
“Are you an introvert?”
“I…” Tim frowns, “Didn’t use to be. I guess I am now, though. But I have fun. I like to read more than I like to socialize, is all.”
Jason chuckles, “As a Lit major, I can sympathize.”
“You’re a Lit major?”
“Hey, don’t sound so surprised.” Tim can practically hear his scowl, “I’m a badass Lit major. Nothing is safe from my critical view. Or some bullshit like that.”
“You sound so enthused,” Tim smiles wryly, “What do you want to be? If you’re in Grad school, then professor?”
“Maybe. I’ll probably end up working for my dad’s company, though. There’s a division for advertisers and what-not.”
“Your dad’s company?”
“Yeah,” Tim hears Jason shift around, “Hey. Uh, this might sound a little strange but…do you want to meet up some time? I mean, we’re both from Gotham, and we both keep weird fuckin’ schedules, so…”
Tim feels like the world has frozen around him.
“…Tim?”
-
“You hung up on him?”
Tim looks up through his bangs at the two girls. They’re in Barbara’s office, door closed and blinds drawn, on one of the few breaks Tim takes during his shift.
Stephanie is frowning down at him, hands on her hips, “Tim, I practically heard you flirt right back with this guy, and the second he wants to meet IRL you cut him off?”
“I didn’t know what to do!” Tim pulls at his hair, “I’ve never…I mean…I’m in a chair, Steph.”
“Excuse me,” Barbara raises an eyebrow, “You better watch that mouth, Tim. The chair doesn’t define who we are, you know. I thought you were past your anxieties about this.”
“I…I’ve never really flirted with anyone since my accident.” Tim sighs, “And I’ve certainly never been in a relationship since then. Kon and I tried to stick it out and look how well that turned out.”
“Don’t you dare blame that on your accident,” Steph frowns, “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Tim. You and Kon are still best friends, and you know that’s the reason you didn’t work out. Babs is right. So you’re in a wheelchair. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. Don’t let this hold you back from what you want. You want to meet this guy, right?”
“I…I don’t know.” Tim sighs, “I can’t. Maybe you don’t think being in a chair makes a difference, but some people do. We’re treated...differently, Steph.”
“And you think that Jason is one of those assholes?”
“No, I. I just don’t want.” Tim seems to curl in on himself, “I just don’t want to see the look in his eyes if we’d meet.”
Barbara sighs, “Oh, Tim. If you let this hold you back, you’ll just end up regretting it. Yes, being in the chair limits you in some aspects, but it doesn’t mean you stop being you. And if someone likes you for being you, the chair doesn’t matter.”
Tim frowns at the floor, “I just. I can’t, Babs. I’m sorry.”
Barbara glances at Stephanie, “Well. We can’t force you. But I’m not sure that hanging up on this guy is going to make him give up.”
“What does that mean?”
“He just sounds like the kind of guy who sees things through.” Barbara says airily, “That’s all.”
-
Barbara is right.
Jason calls again.
Stephanie is the one who answers, considering Tim has resigned himself to solitaire all night, and she transfers the line immediately, with a none-too-happy ‘pick up the damn line’ directed at him.
Tim minimizes the game, tentatively answering the call, “Hello?”
“Hey.” Definitely Jason. “So. I kind of thought you’d been flirting back the last month or so. Was I wrong?”
Tim frowns over at an expectant-looking Stephanie. “No, I. I mean, I was, but. It’s complicated.”
“Complicated how? I flirt, you flirt back, natural progression would lead one to believe we might meet face-to-face.”
“Are you mad because I didn’t agree to?”
“No, I’m mad because you hung up without an explanation. I’m a fucking adult, Tim. If there was a reason you didn’t want to, I would understand and respect it. But you just hung up.”
“There is a reason.” Tim protests, “You just-”
“Yeah, I know the reason. Babs told me.”
Tim pauses. “…Babs told you. How-?”
“You think that I’m going to be disappointed you’re in a chair? Or put-off? Something like that?”
Tim’s presses his lips together, and if he listens closely, he can hear the sound of echoing footsteps in the background of Jason’s call.
“Well, I’m not.”
“How did you even know?”
“It wasn’t exactly easy, since I didn’t have a last name, Timothy Drake. But you work for Wayne Tech, in the tech division, which isn’t that big, and I have access to pretty much any employee record. Your picture is in your file. Cute face, by the way.”
“How do you have access to all that?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius? My dad owns a company. My name is Jason Todd. Does any of that ring a bell?”
“…oh god.” It does. “You’re Bruce Wayne’s adopted son. You’re going to be my boss someday.”
“Ding ding, we have a winner.”
Tim all but jumps out of his chair when the words echo behind him. He twists in the seat as best he can, eyes widening. Jason Todd is leaning against the entryway to his large cubical, holding a cell phone to his ear.
“Though you’re wrong about the boss thing. That’ll be the little shithead.”
“What are you doing here?” Tim practically screeches, “Oh my god! Go away!”
“I’m not going away,” Jason scowls, “I walked practically two blocks to get here, you punk.”
“I’m working.”
“Not anymore.” Jason folds his arms, “We’re going to have coffee. Because I know you want to. And we’re going to have it in the employee lounge because you always have coffee there, and most other places are probably closed by now.”
“This is not happening,” Tim covers his face, peeking through his fingers. It’s like some trashy romance novel, oh god. “You’re a Lit major.”
“Yeah.” Jason moves, leaning over the back of Tim’s chair so he’s looming over him, and Tim can tell that Jason is much taller than Tim can remember even being.
“You’re huge,” He squeaks.
Jason snorts, “So are you coming with, or do I have to carry you? Because I can bench press more than you on a bad day.”
“Don’t you dare.” Tim manages to glare up at him.
For a moment, Jason looks startlingly serious, “Tim, it doesn’t bother me that you had an accident, or that you’re in a wheelchair. I didn’t know what you looked like when I started flirting with you, and I’m not going to stop now.”
“Babs said you were the kind of guy who sees things through.”
“Nah.” Jason shakes his head, “I’m just the kind of guy who goes for what he wants.”
“That’s the same thing,” Tim says weakly, “And I can’t think with your face this close to mine.”
“Okay,” Jason says, “I’m going down to the lounge to start up a pot of coffee. You stay up here and think, and if you’re not there in ten minutes I’ll just have to make good on my promise to carry you.”
Before Tim can reply, Jason is gone from his personal space and cubical, heading towards the elevator at the end of the hall. Tim stares after him, mouth agape. What….what? He can hear Stephanie snickering in the cubical next to his, and faint whispers in the air, but mostly he just hears his heart thudding in his ears.
He has ten minutes to get to the lounge. He makes it in five.