[You know, most people would say letting emotions out is a good thing. B(]

I'd offer to help, but I'm pretty sure you don't feel like putting out one last fire while you're here. [And Dick has realistic ideas of his ability to cook things more complicated than pasta. Still, he carefully puts Jinks down on the floor, washes his hands and might grab a spoon and steal some dough after all. Sorry.

He's quiet for a relatively long moment, reluctant to speed this along. It really could be years before they saw each other again - and it would be, for him, in some ways because this wasn't the Tim he was going home to, assuming he ever got to leave the Barge - and he still wasn't exactly used to this kind of thing, that goodbye really meant for a long, long time unless someone had died.]

I have a favor to ask.