Chapter Text
“Dad, I don’t think you’re going to be able to get it off.”
Tim frowns as his father curses and tosses the car jack to the dirt, standing and kicking the tire with the toe of his expensive dress shoes. Tim holds back a sigh and the urge to remind Jack that it was his fault for wanting to take the back roads to Metropolis for his meeting with Lex Luthor and something about a summer internship for Tim (he really hopes his dad declines the offer because, hello, Lex Luthor is a bad guy).
“Damn thing is on too tight!” Jack complains, fishing his cell phone out of his suit and holding it up to the sky.
Tim looks around, squinting into the sunlight as he takes in the scenery. Low lying fields of wheat are sprawled in every direction, though Tim can see the silhouette of a water tower in the distance. “I think we’re near a town.”
Jack doesn’t hear him, “I’m almost out of battery. I have to call Lex and then call a tow. Dammit.”
Tim turns the other direction and is met with a line of trees. He spares his irritated father a glance before jogging over to the tree line and slipping past the trunks. The cluster of foliage is short, and Tim emerges only several feet away from where their car is. From this direction, he can see the outline of a barn, seemingly closer than the water tower.
Tim glances over his shoulder and jogs back to the road, “Dad!”
Jack glances at him, obviously in conversation, “What, Tim?”
“There’s a barn close by. I’m going to go see if they know where we can get a rental.”
Jack nods, focused on his own conversation, “Sure, sure.” Tim doesn’t think he would have agreed if he was paying attention.
Regardless, he makes his way back through the trees and sets out towards the barn. The walk is easy, thanks to the training he’s been undergoing with Batman and Robin, and Tim makes it to the barn in no time at all. He walks around the structure, coming into view of a nice town-house style building, complete with a porch and screen door. Tim nearly smiles at the ‘country’ of it all.
He hurries up the stairs of the porch, coming to a stop at the door. He glances around the frame, and after failing to locate the doorbell, knocks. Tim hears muffled voices in the house, feminine and masculine, before he hears heavy footsteps. He steps back as the door is pulled open, and he has to hold himself back from staring in unabashed surprise.
Conner Kent is in the doorway, staring down at him, wearing not the Superboy uniform (not that Tim has met Superboy yet), but a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. Plaid. He looks like some kind of farmer model, and he’s staring at Tim with a surly frown.
“What?”
Behind him, the feminine voice sounds, “Conner, be nice.”
Conner seems to hold back a groan, “Sorry, Martha.”
“Ma.”
“Ma,” Conner repeats, glancing back at Tim, “How can I help you?”
Tim swallows and wills his heart rate to slow down, “Er…” His questions seem moot now, considering he knows exactly where Conner lives. He’s not stalking the meta, he’s just…extremely interested in him for…justice. Still, he has to say something. “Is there a place around here to rent cars?”
“What?”
Conner is pushes aside gently and a woman comes into view, one Tim knows from Batman’s files as Superman’s human mother. Martha Kent. “What happened, dear?”
Tim finds it much easier to talk to her, “My dad was taking the back roads to Metropolis and he got a flat tire. He’s not strong enough to change it, so…”
Martha glances at Conner, “Not strong enough? I think Conner here might be.”
Conner opens his mouth, no doubt to protest, but is silenced by a stern look. “Er…yeah.”
“Why doesn’t he follow you back to your car and you won’t have to worry about a rental?” Martha smiles warmly, “I think I might have some water bottles in here. It’s a hot one today and you look like you could use it.”
“Oh, um, that’s okay.” Tim gives what he hopes is a reassuring smile, “I’m fine. Thank you, though.”
“Well aren’t you a sweet one?” Martha laughs, “Conner, you could learn some manners from him.”
Conner scowls and Tim shrinks back, looking down.
“Now go help them out. When you get back you can start on cleaning out the barn.”
“Yes, Martha.” He sighs.
“Ma.”
“Ma.”
:::
Conner follows him back through the grass and Tim can practically feel his glare. He doesn’t know what he did to make Superboy so mad. Sure, in the news he was never smiling but Tim just figured that was because being a hero was hard. He thought the off-camera Superboy would be more like Clark. Goofy, smiling, and nice.
After a few feet of silence, Conner speaks up, “Are you scared of me?”
Tim glances over his shoulder, “What?”
“You’re walking, like, ten feet in front of me and your heart is,” Conner cuts himself off, “I mean, you seem on edge.”
“No, I-”
Tim is interrupted by a deep yell. He turns his head forward, catching sight of his dad peeking through the line of trees. He waves a hand, letting Jack know he isn’t in trouble, and picks up the pace.
They get to the car shortly, and Tim walks around to the tire that’s still hissing out air. “Dad, this is Conner. He’s going to try and change the tire.”
Jack shakes his head, overheated and frustrated. He gestures to the spare lying in the dirt, “Good luck. Things stuck on there like a mother.”
“Dad!” Tim gapes.
Conner accepts the jack from him, squatting down and getting to work. Tim shakes his head at Jack, glancing down at Conner. He isn’t a pervert, but he can’t help staring as Conner’s arm works, muscles along his back standing out with each movement.
Tim bites his lip, averting his gaze. He’s saved from awkwardly staring in silence as his dad attempts to strike up conversation with the meta. He’s rewarded with one-word replies and grunts, but the socialite in him doesn’t give up, so Tim doesn’t have to chime in any time soon.
It takes Conner around ten minutes to make it look like he’s actually expending effort on the job, and when he’s done he hands the jack back to Tim’s dad with a slight frown. He looks somehow more peaceful, though, like doing mindless work helped him calm down a bit. Tim will analyze that later.
“Thanks,” And Jack sounds surprised more than grateful.
Conner walks around him, heading back to the line of trees along the road.
“Conner!” Tim yells before he thinks about what he’s going to say, and is slightly stumped when Conner actually turns around to face him. “Um…er…”
Conner narrows his eyes in frustration.
“Thank you,” Tim finally says, “For, uh, fixing the…tire.” He sounds so lame.
“Whatever,” Conner mutters, disappearing behind the line of trees.
Tim deflates as Jack starts up the car again. He just ruined his first meeting with his favorite hero. Junior hero. Whatever. Tim frowns as Jack pats him on the back, “Let’s get rolling. We’re already late.”
Tim sighs, “Kind of having a moment, here.”
“What moment?”
“Nevermind, Dad. Nevermind.”