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"You could take a leaf out of Eleven's book.""What," Tim stopped behind the couch, "eat fish fingers in custard?""Be more professor-y," Brewster said. "Less of the god business."Tim snorted. Peering at the TV screen, he dipped his head and clicked his tongue."Perve," Brewster said. "Stop it.""What, I can't help it she's got legs like … really long legs.""Good one there, Tim."Tim ignored that and leant against the back of the couch. "Not really weather appropriate," he noted.Brewster rolled his eyes. "Sit down if you're watching.""Nah," Tim said. But he didn't leave either.