"You!" Tim points at Bruce. Bruce looks up from the microscope.
"You are going to hug me. Now."
Bruce looks back, checking to make sure that Dick isn't behind him. He isn't. "Why?" he eventually responds, sliding his chair back, ready to dodge if Tim... tries anything.
"Because. I. Want. A. Hug." Tim punctuates each word with a poke to Bruce's chest.
Bruce stares, looking for signs of drug use. Tim's pupils are a trifle dilated. Could it be Poison Ivy? Perhaps she has developed a hugging poison!
Tim slowly wilts, his shoulders slumping down, looking away. "I mean... you don't have to. If you don't want to."
A shrill squealing noise fills the cave, as if torn from dying machinery... oh. It's Dick.
Tim goes flying under Dick's full body tackle, his face frozen in a stunned expression of frightened surprise.
"Never fear, Little Brother! I shall hug you!" Dick shouts happily, rubbing his cheek across Tim's hair like a cat marking its territory. Tim tries to squirm free, but Dick has him pinned, wrapped in his arms like an octopus gripping its prey.
Bruce grinds his teeth, turning away. He has work to do. Dick stole his hug! a little voice whines in the back of his head. But it's not like he wanted it, anyway.
Damnit. That's his hug. With that in mind, Bruce leaps over the desk, disabling Dick with a nerve strike to the shoulder.
One and a half seconds later, Dick's eyes roll up into his head, and his death grip on Tim loosens. Bruce smirks in triumph, seizing his prize and squeezing it.
Tim makes little squeaking noises of happiness, so Bruce knows he's doing it right.
Oh, wait. Tim's begging for air.