Log -- Parker || Tim ‣ WHO: Parker || Timothy Drake ‣ WHAT: Bringing food to somebody who always forgets ‣ WHEN: October 23 ‣ WHERE: Police precinct ‣ RATING | WARNINGS: Low || No warnings applicable ‣ STATUS: Complete || Log
Anything is possible when you have the right people there to support you.
Parker & Timothy Drake
The thing about working for the police force was it had a way of consuming of your life if you let it. Parker liked to think she had a good balance, but she would admit that at times self -care went right out of the window. Healthy food was replaced by fast food, sugar became a way of life, coffee replaced blo- Okay, it didn’t, but it was basically the same thing.
That meant she knew how easy it was to get lost in a case, to forget that there was a world outside the four walls, and neglect the basics.
It explained why she was swiftly and efficiently navigating the many halls and stairs to bring freshly brewed coffee, delicious bagels, some muffins, and pretzels because who didn’t like pretzels?
“Yo,” she said on approach as she dropped the brown paper bag on the desk in front of Tim and hopped up agilely to sit on the edge of his desk. “I come bearing food and drink because something tells me you haven’t thought about it for hours, maybe even days?”
Tim blinked up at Parker as she hopped up onto the desk. He didn’t jump, because he operated at a low level of hyper awareness at all times anyway so he’d sort of sensed her coming. But still. He pushed his keyboard forward slightly and reached over for the coffee that he could see the letter ‘T’ on.
“I definitely had breakfast. What time is it?”
“Uh huh,” Parker drawled, leveling Tim with a look that spoke of her disbelief in regard to that particular sentence. “Whaddyahave?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at Tim.
She reached over and unfurled the top of the paper bag and wiggled it invitingly in Tim’s direction.
“And, FYI, just say thank you next time.”
“What does it matter what breakfast I had?” Tim asked, trying to remember if it had been one of the stale pastries in the break room or if it had been the last of the cereal in his apartment. Or maybe both. He squinted a little, took a sip of his coffee. “You didn’t answer my question either, Detective. What time is it?”
He’d locked his screen when she came over, because even though they’d worked together before, he still had to protect the privacy he was intruding upon.
“But thank you, Detective, for taking pity on his overworked consultant…” He wiggled his fingers for the bag.
“Most important meal of the day,” Parker chirped with a pointed expression. “And I get the feeling you skip meals a lot, Timothy.” She smiled serenely the next second as if rather pleased with herself. “And it’s gone eleven for your information.”
She snorted and handed over the bag.
“What can I say, I’m clearly a saint.”
“Oh, only eleven?” Tim asked, taking the bag and opening it, taking a deep breath in as the smell of salty, pretzelly goodness met his nose. He took another breath in and put the bag down on the desk breaking part of one off and popping the piece in his mouth. “That’s better than I was expecting.”
He chuckled, “But you are a saint, Detective. Between you and Grayson there’s no way I’ll actually just vibrate onto another plane of existence because all I’ve had for a week is coffee.” He touched his hand to his chest, “I’ve never felt so cared for.”
Ironically, that wasn’t even a lie. Not that anyone here knew that. He’d guarded his past pretty carefully, after all.
Parker rolled her eyes demonstratively because honestly by eleven there definitely should have been some sort of breakfast eaten. “Your first meal of the day should not be at eleven, Tim, I’m just saying.”
“But yes, you are right, I am a saint.” Her lips twitched into a smirk before a playful shove was given to Tim’s shoulder. “Brat,” she cursed affectionately, her arms folding across her chest a moment later.
“So, now that I have fed and watered you, do you think you’ll be able to remember that lunch is mandatory and not optional?”
“Eleven is early for me,” Tim pointed out with a shrug of his shoulders and an unrepentant grin. “At least it’s better than breakfast at night, right?” Because that happened sometimes: he got so absorbed into what he was doing that food slipped by the wayside until he was so hungry he felt sick.
He swayed to the side with the affectionate shove and shook his head, holding one long finger up. “It’s pronounced prodigy,” he corrected, lips curled into a softer smile, maybe a little self-conscious around the edges.
“I’ll do my best, Detective. But if I forget you’ll still take pity on this poor, overworked employee, right?”
Parker gave Tim a mock appraising look with lips pursed as she hmmm’ed with considerable length before she sighed, dramatically, before her lips softened into a warmer affectionate smile.
“Luckily for you, I have a soft spot for you so yes, yes I will.”
She glanced at the time and hissed softly. “Shit, gotta go. I have a meeting with the Captain in ten.”
Tim glanced at the time and grimaced. “Yeah, I need to finish this before midday so better get back to it. Thanks for the breakfast, Defective!”
He had struggled, for a while, finding anywhere that he belonged but here he was, now, finally feeling like he belonged. Where he had friends.