For thete1, who wanted Tim/Bart and "the pleasant terror of mutual understanding."

Note: It's *hard* to write Tim/Bart without Kon in there somewhere.



Tim doesn't use quiet to hurt. He's not exactly talktive, but he's not grim-and-brooding, either, or at least, not all the time. But he is quiet, at least compared to the rest of Young Justice, and sometimes Bart can be in a room with him for hours, and Tim won't talk.

But he doesn't use silence to hurt people, or to make them feel like they don't belong.

He used to talk a lot more in fights. Not just the "hey, bad guy, I'm going to say something witty and distracting so we can beat you up more easily" banter, but like, talking to him and Kon and Cassie and Cissie. Instructions and statements and criticisms.

The last fight, Tim barely said *anything* to them that wasn't a request for new information. And at the cave, he didn't ask Bart if he was okay before he got a bunch of energy bars from the kitchen, or tell Kon that his TTK was really improving before he got him to help Cissie get back in time for school.

It's contagious or something, because Cassie didn’t say a word before she made a pizza run, and Kon took the second controller for the Playstation without asking. They all do it a bit now, but Tim does it the most.

It's funny, because Bart hates being told to keep it down, or stop talking or just for-the-love-of-God-ShutUp!, but he's really starting to love the bilingual thing. He might not be so great on the oral, but he's getting a lot better at listening.

He can have whole conversations with Tim's silences.

End.

Drabble for derryderrydown, Roy/Anyone, being foolish when there's work to be done.

He's actually been in the kitchen for almost as long as Connor; he's long since finished his paper and cleaning his guns, checking the edge on his arrows, and he's pretty much run out of excuses to be there. It's a good thing Connor's big on the accepting thing, and hasn't actually asked Roy why he's there or anything, because Roy doesn't have any excuse for sitting at the kitchen table and Connor-watching, other than the obvious one that Connor-watching is an enjoyable pastime for anyone.

Roy could offer to help, but it's too-- something. Connor's hands are very clean and palms are slightly pink and there's one on the coriander and one hand on the knife and they're almost *brisk* as they move.

Sharp and agile.

The lid's on the pot where the beans are stewing, and every time Connor opens it up to check, there's this release of chili-smell. Black beans and half an onion with two whole chilies, un-sliced. Smells like home, and it's not *exactly* the same as Ollie's, but it's definitely Queen Chili.

Connor's almost the definition of grace, here as anywhere else. The onion looks like half a moon against the cherry-wood chopping board and Connor's finger are that little bit browner against it, Assam tea with milk, as he cuts it into uneven dice. Connor blinks and his eyes are brighter, greener, before he brushes the onions into an empty pan.

The chili is next, and there's the press of Connor's fingers against the vivid yellow and green and red of the peppers, bright colours and strong, fresh smell. The sound of the knife against the chopping board and Connor's humming Roy can't identify something under his breath.

Most of the pepper goes in with the onions, put Connor slips one green piece into his mouth, looking faintly mischievous.

Roy firmly believes that there's not a person alive who could resist the temptation Connor offers at this moment, and it's why he works hard to keep Grace from spending too much time with Connor. He'd be quite happy to watch Grace throw Connor over her shoulder, against the wall, and see Connor give her one of those break-your-heart kisses, but he'd want Connor back at the end and, well, Grace would probably want to keep him. Roy's up from the kitchen table and pressing Connor against the counter before he even realizes what he's doing.

"The beans need to be--"

"This'll only take a minute," Roy says, grinning as Connor rolls his eyes.

"Even I know that's a pretty lousy come-on," he says, but he doesn't push Roy away and he lets him catch his fingers, breath hitching when Roy puts them in his mouth. They taste mostly of onions and a bit of fresh chilies and make his mouth burn a little more. "That's not hygienic," Connor manages, while his free hand reaches behind him to turn off the gas.

Roy grins and drops to his knees.


End.