Bat-Boy one shots (I dont own the pictures or characters just the stories)

Car chase: Tim (short story)

Tim had been running on five hours of sleep and caffeine for the last two days.
Cross legged on the floor with piles of paper and files scattered around him in all directions, working on a case. There was nothing too special about this case, but it was starting to get agitating.
He had looked at it several times over, he knew it front and back but he just couldn't crack it.
Bruce was starting to get more and more persistent about him getting out of the cave. And that was more frustrating than the case itself.

You need sun, Tim.

You need sleep, Tim.

Coffee and energy drinks aren't a real meal Tim.

As much as he hated admitting defeat. He knew Bruce was right.
And Tim had every intention of sleeping... after the case was closed.
He just needed something to spark him up again, get his blood pumping, get his brain going.
And then, like Gotham itself was listening to his thoughts. The siren goes off.
Red lights fill the computer screen across the batcave.
And like a bullet Tim is in the swivel chair in front of it.
A familiar headshot was staring back at him.
He knew this man's back story, and what crime he was committing, without having to read it.

He had been a pro in Nascar before some tragic thing happened.

Tim held back a laugh in his throat.
He couldn't even be bothered to remember what his back story was. Although, in his defense all the back stories were pretty much the same.

Good life.

Bad thing.

Life of crime.

Tims eyes scaned the screen for details on today's heist.

Central Gotham bank..

6:28 pm ..

Headed downtown in a stolen Ferrari.

Tim smiled.
The villains of Gotham couldn't help pass up a chance at being dramatic.
This particular villain was, unironically, dubed by Gotham news as
Racer.
A painfully obvious name for a cliché villain.
This time the laugh escaped Tims lips.
Gotham was nothing if not painfully obvious and cliché.
Tim felt the excitement rising in his chest.
He quickly locked the tracker onto the Ferrari and sent it to the batmobile GPS. He turned around to jump into his weapon of choice.
And to Tims utter horror.
Was Damian casually climbing into the front seat.
Like his life hadn't been death by boredom and case files for the last week.
Like he was just going to take out Racer on the way to the pet center.
Like he was just going for an afternoon drive.
Damian didnt know what happened. And Bruce had never seen Tim move so quickly.
But they both knew that Damian was no longer in the driver's seat. In fact, he wasn't in a seat at all. Standing by the, now vacant, batmobile parking spot he watched his brother fly away in a cloud of smoke.

Everyone in the batfamily could drive.
But only Tim could race.
He was a speed demon at heart.
His hands moving at expert timing.
His feet never flinching.
He followed Racer through the street, his streets.
Tim's streets.
He tailed the Ferrari close behind, but just far enough away to keep it interesting.
Yes the batmobile had grappling hooks and the like to help make sharp turns.
But quite frankly.
They offended him.
Tim could beat the best racers in the world, and he was about to prove it again.
Expertly maneuvering through the streets of Gotham, Tim turned up the radio and laughed as he pushed in the pedal.
Racer was good.
But he was no match for a speed hungry teenager in the batmobile.
This race was over before it started.

Ten minutes is a long time for a car chace, and for Tim, it was over in two. But he milked it. He made it as long as he possibly could before having to actually do his job.
Tim lead Racer into the road block of GCPD exactly 10 minutes and 54 seconds after he launched out of the cave.
But that was all Tim needed.
He drove back to the cave, racing through allys and backroads.
When he got back, his case work was finished in two hours.
And he finally took Bruce's advice.
And slept.