That slowly moving hand pauses at a shadow blocking the stars, and it isn't until Clark speaks that it finally lowers, Tim's eyes picking out the faint outline of features in the dark. Or, the man says, a bridge to a sentence he can complete himself. Or. No, there's not really any or, is there? He doesn't want to be alone.

"Wouldn't say no," a soft voice replies, accent clearly calling him out as a British native. "Doesn't look like I'm getting to sleep anytime soon, anyway. What brings you out here?"