Tim was in charge of constantly updating the BatComputer software and programs, which means sometimes, he has to explain how to use said computer to almost all the Bats. And that is a fucking trip.

He's put off this moment for well over two weeks (and you can tell in how poorly the nightly patrol reports were filed and in how it takes three times longer to track down a suspect than before) and Bruce had finally put his foot down about it since nobody but Tim and Barbara know how to work the monstrosity they had collaborated on. Which means he now has three angry Bats and Cass watching over his shoulder as he shows them how to work the new system.

He gets about thirty-five minutes into his lecture when (as usual) Jason interrupts, "were you fucking high when you made this, Timbers? What the fuck? That doesn't even make sense."

Tim sighs, mentally dumbing down everything he had just explained so they could understand it in layman's terms, rubbing between his brows where he can feel a headache coming as Steph wholeheartedly agrees with Jason, "yeah, I don't get why it needed this over the top redesign, it was working perfectly well before."

Damian tuts, "Drake likes to make things difficult."

Cass sets a soothing hand on Tim's back, a silent support that is literally the only thing keeping Tim from flipping the table. "Look, guys, it's not that hard. We just added more filters to the search algorithm, that's all. It's like choosing which scope to put on your rifle, Jay, or which tags to include in a fanfic, Steph. Or choosing the best acerbic comment to assault someone with to get the desired reaction, Demon."

There's a pause before the collective 'oh' moment, and Tim moves on, "the patrol report is literally the same, but you can't put the baddies' nicknames in because that's what the program uses to sort the reports in the proper files. So you can't call Ivy 'Red' or 'floral fury' or any of the other names you weirdos put in there, 'kay?"

There's a round of muttering that ends in Jason storming off, calling Tim a 'fun-sucker' followed by Damian's ever annoying tut as he too wanders off, leaving Steph and Cass with him. Tim gives one last large sigh before telling them, "last but not least, unless you press and hold the ctrl, alt, and shift keys for three seconds as you login, the computer will send an alert to B that you have logged onto the Batman Inc. System." He demonstrates, then hands them two pieces of paper, "also, I've changed everyone's passwords to their WE company log-ins. So because you've stayed till the end, here are yours."

Steph cackles madly, probably imagining Damian getting caught by Bruce when he sneaks down here at 6am to look through cases, or Jason getting a call from B at 11, asking why he's only now logging in for his patrol report. Cass pats Tim's head, before being dragged off by her girlfriend to do God knows what, Tim doesn't want to know.

Bonus Scene:

Oracle knows better than to try to explain it like she normally would to Tim or Bruce to literally anyone else, so she spends less than five minutes showing Dick how to operate the new software before making him do it by himself twice. With that done, she moves on to their weekly date and gives a silent prayer of patience to Tim who has to show all the other idiots how to work their system.

Extra Bonus Scene:

Bruce braved Tim's half-hour long explanation (spoken at speeds that Flash would be jealous of) in silence as he was shown all the upgrades and differences they had made, and when Tim finally stopped long enough to get a breath in, Bruce smoothly said, "Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep tonight."

"But-"

"Alfred?"

"Yes, Master Bruce?" Alfred materialists a few feet from them, where he'd been standing since before Bruce came off patrol.

"Would you ensure that Tim gets to bed without the distraction of any type of electronic nearby?"

"Certainly, sir. Master Timothy, if you would," Alfred sweeps his arm towards the stairs.

Tim heaves a long exhale as he stands, dragging his feet in the right direction, "can I get something to drink before bed, Alf?"

"Certainly, would you prefer warm milk or tea?"

Tim gives a disgusted look, before turning to him with large pleading eyes, "coffee?"

"Decaf only," Alfred returns, not fazed in the slightest by the eyes that regularly get hardcore businessmen and vigilantes alike to do what he wants.

Tim sighs in defeat, "okay."