All I ever wanted
Summary: Kon 'convinces' Tim to take a vacation
only thing Tim hated more than being drugged and kidnapped, was being
drugged and kidnapped by members of his own family. As he slowly came
back to consciousness, Tim took stock. His limbs felt like wet noodles,
his eyes seemed to be glued shut, and he was pretty certain someone had
shoved something dead and furry into his mouth.
"Mmmm... gonna... kill..." Dick. He had invited Tim over for pizza and
video games. Said he wanted to spend more time with his 'little
thoughts of vengeance danced through his head, Tim became aware of
several other things. He was laying on a bed. The sheets smelled clean,
as did the air which drifted over his face thanks to a light breeze. He
was unrestrained, which was odd, but good. If this was meant to be some
sort of training exercise, it was certainly shaping up to be an unusual
And, it got even more unusual when the figure Tim had realized was
standing by the bed spoke.
"Hey. I thought you were awake. Heard your heart rate speed up."
"Kon... Conner... the hell..."
"Yeah. Look, when you feel up to it, you can try to kick my ass as much
as you'd like. I promise."
Tim felt a large hand brush against his forehead. "What... why..."
"We have been telling you you need a vacation."
Vacation. Using all his considerable willpower, Tim turned
his head, and forced his eyes to open. Through slitted lids he took in
Kon's worried face, and beyond that, past diaphanous curtains, there
was the white sand of a beach, and the azure blue of an ocean.
Kon grinned and adopted one of the worse British accents Tim had ever
heard. "Welcome to the Caribbean, luv."
Kon touched down and warily approached the solitary figure on the beach.
Tim fixed him with a glare when he was still ten feet away.
“Hey.” Kon hoped his smiled didn’t look as wan as it felt. “How’s the
Tim snorted and turned back towards the ocean.
Well...” Kon idly tossed the package of frozen peas he had bought.
“I’ll have you know, I had to fly all the way to South Beach for
these.” He threw the package to Tim, who caught it with his good hand.
“Really? South Beach? You weren’t gone that long. I hope it wasn’t a
very far trip.”
“Let’s just say it’s close enough for me to get supplies, but too far
away for you to swim.”
Tim huffed and pressed the cold bag to his bruised hand.
“You sure it’s not broken?” Kon rubbed his jaw. “You hit me pretty
certain.” Tim looked up at the taller teen speculatively. “But, if I
did break it, you’d have to take me to a hospital, wouldn’t you?”
Kon eased himself into the sand beside his friend. “I’d take you to the
cave, get you fixed up, and bring you back here. Of course, not until
Alfred had expressed his disappointment in you.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “So, what exactly is this supposed to accomplish?”
supposed to make you relax some.” At Tim’s disbelieving snort, Kon
raised his hands defensively. “Hey, it was Nightwing’s idea.”
“You didn’t have to go along with it.”
“Dude, have you *seen* Nightwing?! I don’t know what was worse, when he
was threatening me, or when he was pouting at me.”
Tim sighed. “The pout.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Though Tim was loathe to admit it, after three days of vaca... Forced
Exile, he was beginning to feel a little relaxed. Even the perpetual
knot in his left shoulder he had nicknamed Mini Bruce had began to
Kon was also starting to relax. Excluding one cursory escape attempt
while windsurfing, Tim had been a model prisoner. Of course, a part of
him couldn't help but think he was being lulled into a false sense of
security while Tim finished his raft of palm fronds and coconut shells.
On the fourth day, while taking a leisurely stroll along the beach, Tim
felt something odd begin to happen to his facial muscles.
Kon promptly tripped over his own feet as he watched a large, joyous
grin form on his friend's face.
By the fifth day, Tim was fairly wallowing in a feeling of contentment
he was sure he hadn't experienced in over a decade. And, only a small
part of his happiness came from the almost comical unease he was
causing Kon by being just so damn happy.
Tim giggled. Kon paled. Life was good.
The sixth night, by unspoken agreement, was to be their last on the
island. They would head back to Gotham in the morning, and Tim had to
admit he would be sorry to leave the little tropical haven.
He sat on the sand, watching the moon rise above the sea, and tried to
soak up as much atmosphere as he could to sustain him through the long,
bleak, Gotham winter. A slight breeze alerted him to his friend, who
was hovering a few feet above the beach. Tim smiled and softly patted
Kon took his place beside the smaller teen. "So-"
"Thanks." Tim said abruptly.
"For?" Kon raised an eyebrow.
"Ah." They sat quietly for a moment. "You know, it was Nightwing's
idea. You should thank him."
"Oh, I will. After I get done kicking his ass." This time Tim's grin
was of the more familiar 'Don't Fuck With Me, I'm a Bat' variety. Kon
repressed the urge to shiver, but Tim still picked up on a slight
tremble. He frowned. "You okay?"
"Oh, yeah. I just remembered, in the real world, you have easy access
Tim rolled his eyes. "The only person on my immediate hit list is my
soon to be hurting big brother. You're safe."
Kon's features were tinged with disbelief. "Promise?"
Tim cocked his head to the side, a strange light came to his eyes. He
reached out, and with the pad of his thumb, he lightly brushed the
swell of Kon's cheekbone. "Promise."
"Oh, man! Then what?"
"Then we went to our rooms, went to sleep, and we flew back in the
"What?! Oh, come on! You're telling me with the moon, and the sand, and
the surf, and the... thumb, you didn't even kiss him?!"
Tim smirked. "Not everyone's as big a slut as you."
Dick scowled, and threw a handful of popcorn at the teenager's head.
"Watch it, Babybird."
"You're so sensitive." Tim laughed and shook kernels out of his hair.
"Anyway, I thought about it, believe me, I thought about it. But
slower's better. Draws it out, heightens the anticipation. Plus, I get
to fuck with his head a bit. That's always fun."
"True." Dick's eyes briefly flicked to the all but forgotten movie
playing on his T.V. "So, I guess everything's all good then."
"Yep. Proceeding as scheduled."
"Hmm. Be a shame if something were to happen to derail your plans."
Tim's eyes were sharp. "Such as?"
"Such as... Conner finding out the whole island thing was really your
idea." Dick's grin was more than faintly reminiscent of a shark's.
Tim sighed. "What do you want?"
Dick reached across the couch to the end table and grabbed his phone.
"I'm feeling a bit out of sorts. I think I need a break, a
A light dinged over Tim's head. "Tropical?"
"But, you're far too stubborn to go on one without major coercion." Tim
Dick tossed him the phone. "Roy's number three on speed dial."