I was rambling one day, started writing a fic and it turned into a monster )o) enjoy.

Meeya helped me a lot on this fic. Like, A LOT. And she's a way better writer than me o3o love her.

Monday, 27th September.

Tim stared at his phone. No signal. Grumbling, he put it back again in his pocket and stared at the window. The rain and the speed didn't let him see the buildings clearly. Tim was sure they were also the reason why his phone wasn't working either, and he needed to make that call. After a long day at WE, the last thing he wanted was the headache that the blurry images would surely cause him.

He turned his head foward and glanced over the other occupants of the train. Most of them were tired workers coming back home. Nobody was talking. The train arrived to another station, more passengers entered, and Tim was already pulling his phone out again to see if it was working when he saw him.

A boy, maybe a bit younger than him, a bit taller, walked the other side of the wagon. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary about his looks. He wasn't the best looking person Tim had ever seen either. But he seemed to have so much energy, with his back straight and his head up, the hint of a smile in his mouth. And his eyes… even from the other side of the wagon Tim couldn't ignore them. It was the brightest shade of blue he had ever seen. After fumbling a bit with an ipod, the other boy started staring at the window, tapping with his foot at the rhythm of some song, and then Tim had no reason to stop staring.

So he didn't.

Tim forgot to look again at his phone for the whole time the boy was there.

Thursday, 30 September.

The forecast had announced light rain that day, but it had been dead wrong. Tim grumbled while trying to wipe his hair dry with a handkerchief that he shouldn't have been surprised. As thunder resounded inside the wagon, he sighed and looked down at his phone distractedly again.

Bored, Tim started glancing looked around at the other passengers. Some of them, he saw them everyday. The old man with a suit and a cane that worked in WE too. The woman with the three piercings in one ear, always dressed in red and black. The red haired cop that would fall asleep in his seat every other day. They were always on the line 4. With a sigh, he moved on. Then he started -re-reading the warnings plastered all over the train. He was starting with the advertisements, when the doors opened -Tim hadn't even noticed that they had arrived at the station, those stickers were entertaining- and the boy from the day before stepped in. There were other people stepping in as well, but Tim didn't pay them any attention. Because of the storm, there were more passengers than it was usual in that line, and the boy wind up standing closer to Tim.

Due to the closer distance, it was dangerous to try watching the boy as he had been doing preciously. But Tim couldn't help himself. He was just one of many tired people going back home. So a few glances around him would hardly warrant any raised eyebrows. And it was better than out right staring which would get anyone's attention

From the corner of his eye, Tim noted that the eyes that he previously admired were as bright upclose as they had been from afar. He hadn't even noticed the glasses the first time around! The boy was just… perfect. Tim had always been a perfectionist -that's how he had managed his job at WE- and he couldn't see any fault in him. Everything about him made the word jump up to the tip of his tongue. Even his mood seemed to be better than anyone else's. Not too difficult, though, since Tim hadn't been the only person caught by surprise by the storm. But it's not that the boy wasn't even frowning. Tim could see again the tiny smile, and he wanted to get closer, wanted to see how those blue eyes would look when they were looking at him.

Maybe if the boy looked at him Tim would simply spontaneously combust.

To Tim's surprise, he found himself wanting to.

Tuesday, 4rd October.

Five days had passed since Tim had seen Conner for the first time. Tim had discovered that his name was Conner thanks to a folder the boy had brought with him one day at the train. Tim had never been so glad about his -until then completely unuseful- "reading text upside-down" skills.

Still, there was still a chance that the man's name wasn't Conner. Perhaps the folder belonged to someone else. And it was sightly alarming how didn't seem to care. It was a hopeless crush, he reasoned to himself. He was just happy he had another name to give him besides "that guy on the train".

Now, every day Tim found himself waiting for Conner to arrive to the train. And every day he'd try to get a little bit closer while mantaining a distance in order to observe Conner. Most days Conner would pop in his headphones and start listening to some music. Other days he would fiddle around on his phone. Some days he's sink into an empty seat and go to sleep for the duration fo the train ride. Blessedly, it appeared that he hadn't noticed Tim eyeing him yet. Tim was glad of that. Even if he still wanted to know more about Conner, he knew it was just a crush. Like when he spent years with his crush on Dick. Years maybe meaning half of his life. Crushes had no future. They were fleeting and temporary. Besides, Tim was satisfied by just being able to see Conner every day. Maybe it'd go away with the time. He was confident that that would happen soon.

Friday, 7th October.

The weather wasn't bad. Tim hadn't even noticed the bit of sunlight that would filter between the clouds from time to time, a rare phenomenon in Gotham, but the other passengers had; actually, most of them were busy looking at the window and admiring the bright view. Tim was completely unaware of this, though, still focused on looking at Conner as much as he could without being noticed. And somehow, as Conner turned around to grab his backpack and get out, his gaze found Tim's.

Tim forgot to breathe for a moment. Conner looked confused for a moment, but the moment disappeared when he bent down to grab his backpack. Relief washed over Tim, heart thudding painfully hard against his ribs. Conner caught him staring and hadn't looked angry, and best of all, Tim hadn't spontaneously combusted. Just when his heart beat was starting to go back to normal, as Conner started walking out, he looked at Tim again. He felt flustered at having been caught staring at a stranger twice within a minute, -he had forgotten he should be looking somewhere, anywhere else. But then Conner smiled at him.

As the doors closed behind Conner, Tim lost all his hope of the crush disappearing with time.

Wednesday, 3rd November.

The weather had been nice those last days, and Tim was happy. Every day he'd get to the train, and every day, on the second station after his, Conner would get on. Tim had never talked to him ever since he had noticed him, and now he didn't dare stare in such a bold manner as he had in the first week. But still, Tim was happy. Because sometimes Conner had noticed him, and smiled.

Tim was certain. that his name was Conner now. He had deteremined that on the third week, from one day when they had sat down next to each other. He had caught sight of the 'Conner' keychain attached to the backpack, and Tim also learned that Conner liked Lady Gaga. That day had been nerve wracking and amazing at the same time. Tim had kept worrying that Conner might somehow find out how nervous he was or worse. Turn to look at him. He had also memorized a good part of Conner's wardrobe now or at least most of it. He should have also memorized his face, after a whole month, especially since he had been discreetly checking him out for for weeks. But Tim felt like that every time he looked at Conner, he discovered something new about his features. The position of his eyebrows when he smiled or frowned, a beauty mark on his neck, the dimple on his left cheek, the little scar in on the back his left hand, every little detail was fascinating to Tim. He would never get tired of looking at Conner.

The universe, however, had clearly gotten tired of Tim looking at his crush and not taking any action. Of that, Tim was certain as one day the train skipped Conner's station entirely. It seemed ridiculous, but Tim's heart stopped had sank down when that happened. And when he arrived at his own station, instead of going home, he stayed there in the hopes of finding out what had been the cause of that mistake. Was it a malfunction? An human mistake, maybe?

He had been was informed eventually that the line 4 had been modified. There was no reason to worry, though, since the stations he used every day were still on the line.

Conner's station, however, wasn't.

The next day Tim got into the train, he had hoped that everthing the last day had been product of his imagination. Even if the weight in his stomach told him that it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Indeed, the traject confirmed it, and Tim realized that Conner and he wouldn't use the same line the train just moved past Conner's station, his fears were only confirmed and Tim could only sigh to himself dejectedly. Once he was at home, he had a panic attack.

He knew he was pathetic, but he couldn't help it. He didn't even have anyone to talk to about Conner. Tim realized that he didn't even have a picture of him, his surname. He had lost his single contact with the only person he had felt a bit of interest about in over a year. The worst part though? He didn't know anything important about Conner. Was he a student at Gotham University? A worker at one of the many companies present in Gotham? Where did he live? A google search of people named Conner in Gotham proved itself fruitless. Eventually, Tim had to accept that he had no other option except to get over his crush.

Two weeks had passed since Tim had last seen Conner, and his feelings had not changed. The first two days after the lines changed, he tried to go on with his life. Soon he realized it wouldn't work. Anyways, he had some time to spend in the afternoons and nobody to spend it with, so the first thing he did after accepting the situation was to try all the lines that stopped at Conner's stations. After the first week he would just try to get to off the train on random stations and just stay there in the hopes of catching sight of Conner, his heart jumping every time he saw anybody tall with dark hair and glasses.

There was no sign of Conner.

Finally Tim accepted his defeat. Conner had, surely, stopped using public transport. Or at the very least, stopped using the train. Or changed his schedule… There were a hundred different reasons why he hadn't seen the man for so he had bought a bike, maybe he had changed his job.

Perhaps he had moved out of Gotham, or even died.

Either way, Tim had no way to of knowing. He felt ashamed about using so much time and effort in the vain hopes of finding a person that he didn't even know. Still, he wound up wandering and looking for Conner every day. And every day, he never caught even a glimpse of the man. Tired and frustration, Tim finally gave in and got a car. The only reason he hadn't got one before is that public transport was handy and that cars required work. Now having his own means of transport meant that he no longer had to take the train. Which meant that he wouldn't have to deal with any reminders of Conner anymore.

The memories about Conner wouldn't disappear, but it was better than the train.