By Weirdnessmagnet
February 1, 2007

Summary: The best-laid plans of mice and Robins...
Universe/Continuity: Teen Titans v.3, post-Infinite Crisis, pre-9/2011 Reboot.
Rating: PG
Author's notes: For 3jane's birthday. I promised a drabble, she got 423 words of Tim and Kon. Plus several more chapters.


**
"Like most thrown objects," Tim explains, "it's all in the wrist. Not the arm."

Little Kon's eyes follow the Batarang as it swoops around the room in a perfect arc. Tim catches it between gauntleted hands, waits until he has Kon's attention, and throws it again.

"The difference," Tim continues, "is Batarangs follow an elliptical path. Throw at an angle between 20 and 35 degrees to the horizontal plane of the ground to hit a target at a distance. Not straight at the target, like you would a baseball. Because a baseball -- " He catches the 'rang with a clap. " -- doesn't come back to you."

Kon kicks in his baby seat and makes enthusiastic, vowel-based noises. He makes grabbing motions with his chubby fingers.

Tim smiles and sits in front of him. He holds the Batarang by the sharp edge, letting Kon wrap his fingers around the blunt, curved side.

"When you're ready, I'll show you how to use it," Tim says.

The one-bedroom apartment isn't much, but it's on the top floor of a building Dick owns, has direct access to the roof, and gets morning sun, which he's discovered Kon craves. The place has only the basics -- a couch, a bed, Zesti and formula in the fridge -- which suits Tim fine. They don't need much.

Which is why he's nearly alarmed when he sees how much stuff Dick and Roy are carrying when he opens the door. Dick said on the phone they were bringing supplies, but this... "What is all that?"

Roy peers over an armful. "This is everything you need to successfully raise a child."

Tim looks at Dick.

"Don't look at me," Dick says. "I just carry stuff."

It takes several trips for Dick and Roy to bring in all the so-called essentials that Kon needs. Tim watches the piles grow higher and tries not to seem ungrateful, but still. "What exactly is a Diaper Genie?"

"That," Roy declares, "is the single greatest invention in the history of mankind."

"Apart from that wheel thing," Dick says. He gives Little Kon's socked foot a gentle squeeze.

"The guy who invented the wheel never had to change a dirty diaper, or he would have invented this first." Roy sets the device down.

"Babies can't possibly need all of this," Tim says.

Roy shakes his head. "This stuff is just to give you a sense of control. The kid could sleep in an empty drawer and he'd turn out okay."

"Really?" The baby books Tim read didn't mention that.

Dick rolls his eyes. "We are not taking the crib back down all those stairs."

"We took the elevator," Roy says.

"Not the point."

Tim decides the efficient thing is to sleep in the common room and give Little Kon the bedroom, allowing Tim to move about at night. Between the three of them, it doesn't take long before Tim's possessions (thoughtfully sent along by Alfred) are arranged into a tasteful yet functional setting in the main room. Roy grabs a screwdriver and turns his attention toward assembling the crib in the bedroom.

The unpacking would go faster if Dick wasn't so distracted by the baby. "I still can't believe you did it," he says quietly when Roy is safely tinkering out of earshot. "Bruce must've gone thermal."

Tim nods just enough to agree. "You...you get why I did it. Don't you?"

"Yeah, I think I do." Dick finally stops looking at Kon. His frown is deep and hard. "That doesn't mean I approve of what you did."

Tim instinctively reaches a hand out for Kon. There's something about touching him that's steadying. He'll research it later. "Dick -- "

Dick's eyes are dark despite being so blue. "You're setting yourself up for a hard fall. You’ve lost your father and your friend. That’s nothing compared to losing your child. I’ve seen what that does."

"I'm not going to lose him." Tim lets Kon suck on his finger.

"The caped crew doesn't keep secrets well, despite all the masks. A lot of them know about Kon already. The criminals will hear about him, too."

"I'll protect him."

Tim is still impressed by Dick's ability to loom in civilian clothes. "Roy said that about Lian, and her kidnapping broke him. They'll come after him, Tim. And you won't be able to stop them all."

Tim gives him a dangerous smirk. "Let the bastards try. I've got a Diaper Genie."

"This isn't a joke," Dick snaps, raising his voice.

Tim pulls his finger out of Kon's mouth and puts on a glare to match Dick’s. "If you think this is such a bad idea, why do you have Arsenal assembling a crib for me in one of your old hideouts?" He isn’t yelling, he tells himself. Because yelling is unecessary, and besides, he shouldn't do it in front of the baby. He's just speaking forcefully.

Dick, however, is yelling. "Because you made a decision, and you know I'm always going to back you up, no matter how -- "

The word "boneheaded" is drowned out by Little Kon’s shrill wail.

"He doesn’t like loud talking," Tim tells Dick. He doesn’t know if Little Kon is already developing enhanced hearing, but makes a mental note to log this incident.

Tim doesn’t pick him up right away because the books say that babies should learn to soothe themselves. He strokes Kon’s cheek and says, "Sh. It’s okay. He makes lots of people cry." Tim ignores whatever Dick mutters in Romany.

There's a crash in the nursery, followed by a weak, "Uh, Dick? If you two are done fighting, a little help?"

Tim leans in when Dick is gone. "That's your Uncle Dick. He has a heart as big as the world. But it's sort of broken now." He fingers a lock of Kon's hair. "See what you can do about that."

Kon sniffles. Tim wipes the baby’s nose with a tissue and lets him hold the curved side of the Batarang until he’s calm again.

**

Twelve days after he left the Tower, Robin gets a call from Cassie.

He wears the communicator all the time just in case, but it’s a surprise when it beeps. He’s giving Kon a bath in the sink when he hears, "Robin? You there?"

"I’m here." He supports Kon’s neck with one hand and shampoos him with the other. "Emergency?"

"No. Hadn’t heard from you, so just checking in. You okay?" Cassie says.

"I’m okay."

"And how’s -- "

"He’s okay too." He carefully pours a cup of water over Kon’s head to rinse the lather out. Kon squints and coughs. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Not you." Robin wipes the soap out of Kon’s eyes. There has to be a better way to do this. If he had a hand free he’d look it up again. He must have missed something when he read that chapter the fourth time.

"So. When are you coming back?"

"Things that bad?"

"No more so than usual." Cassie sighs. "The team just doesn’t feel like the Titans without you here."

The team hasn’t felt like the Titans to Robin in a long time. "I’m still getting settled in here."

"Come on, you? You probably had the baby situation all organized and scheduled within the first twenty minutes of your arrival."

"Not even. I haven’t patrolled in a week."

"You’re kidding."

"Aaow," Little Kon says. Robin hands him a little rubber squeaky toy shaped like a cow. It was among the things Arsenal brought. Robin hasn’t figured out how it qualifies as an 'essential.' Still, Kon likes it.

"Was that him?" Cassie asks. "Is he talking yet?"

"No. He makes noises, sometimes tries to imitate sounds."

"God, he’ll be talking soon," Cassie says. "But back to the point: you haven’t patrolled?"

"I don’t have anyone to watch him."

"Don’t they have nannies in Gotham?"

Robin picks up Kon and puts him on the towel spread out next to the sink. Kon chews on the cow’s nose while Robin dries him. "None of them passed the background checks."

"You mean they couldn’t pass a background check, or couldn’t pass one of your background checks?"

"You wouldn’t want him left with just anyone."

He can almost hear Cassie roll her eyes. "No, but come on. You’ve got to be reasonable."

"Wanting someone trustworthy is reasonable."

Cassie sighs again. "So, if you had someone trustworthy you could go back to Robining?"

He diapers Kon and wonders when exactly his name became a verb. "No. They’d also have to be able to handle his -- special needs. Anything that might come up."

"Okay."

"And deal with certain security precautions."

"Sure."

"And Kon has to like the person."

"Yeah. Okay. You want Mary Poppins. I get it."

"British accent a plus." Reminds him of Alfred. And Julie Andrews was hot when she was young.

"Keep looking," Cassie says. "I’ll see what I can come up with on my end."

Robin can hear her thinking. She’ll probably try Arsenal for suggestions, which will be of limited usefulness. Arsenal’s standards regarding caregivers aren’t quite the same as his own.

He finishes dressing Kon when Cassie signs off. He picks the book he was reading to Kon off the sofa and carries them both to the bed. He props Kon on a pillow and settles in next to him.

"Now, where did we leave off?" Robin thumbs through the heavy volume until he finds the right page. Kon seems to like being read to, even if he can't stay awake through a whole chapter yet.

Little Kon chews on his cow and watches him as he reads. "'As the gleam of the street-lamps flashed upon his austere features, I saw that his brows were drawn in thought and his thin lips compressed. I knew not what wild beast we were about to hunt down in the dark jungle of criminal London, but I was well assured, from the bearing of this master huntsman, that the adventure was a most grave one.'"

**

This time, the story didn't put just Kon to sleep.

Tim wakes to find himself and Little Kon on the bed. The Sherlock Holmes volume is open on Tim’s chest and Little Kon has somehow migrated to the side of the bed that gets morning sun.

He shuts the book and puts it on the nightstand. The room reeks; Kon needs a clean diaper now. He looks over at Kon, who’s on his back trying to put his toes in his own mouth. There are yellow-brown streaks on the sheet around the baby.

Tim gently removes Kon’s foot and rolls him over slightly. Yellow-brown poo has leaked out of the diaper and covers Kon’s back, the sheets, his hair, and all over the clean shirt Tim had dressed him in last night.

"What did you do?" he asks.

Kon has the nerve to giggle and roll onto his back. His diaper makes a squelchy noise.

Tim lets himself grimace and runs another bath in the sink. While it fills, he returns to the bed. He tosses the pillows aside, pulls the dirty sheet off the mattress and scoops it and the baby up in a bundle. He manages to avoid touching the soiled parts of the sheet or the baby. Little Kon makes an indignant noise.

"Don’t give me that. You did this on purpose."

Kon frowns and farts.

Oh god. The child smells foul. "Are you finished? Because I can't put you in the bath until you’re done."

Kon wriggles his arms out of the sheet.

"No, don’t touch me, you’re all -- ew." Great. Now he needs a bath too. Tim turns off the water in the sink and tries to remember if the parenting books said it was okay to shower with your baby in the non-felony way.

Tim ignores the knock at the door and uses his clean hand to flip through the book's index. "Let’s see: self-esteem, Maurice Sendak, separation anxiety -- "

The banging on the door grows louder.

"Busy, come back later!" Tim calls. The index isn’t helping. "Sexuality -- we are so not going there yet -- shampoo, sharing, shoes, shopping cart safety..."

There’s a muffled yell through the door.

Tim moves to the security monitors. It takes slightly longer than it should to confirm the man’s identity. His heat signature is different and he’s taller than Tim remembers.

Tim shifts Kon and his sheet-bundle to his other arm. The locks are unlatched in a moment and the bomb is disarmed three seconds later.

Tim remembers too late not to gape at him.

"Cassie says you need help," Bart says. "But I’m not faking a British accent."