#and I’d like to think that both Oliver and Barry try | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dragon-temeraire · 3 years ago

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You're the sky that I fell through

Summary: Hal doesn’t really seem to hear him, and if possible, looks even more tired than before. “I landed the plane, right? My memories are pretty blurry at that point, but I landed it, didn’t I?”

Notes: I've always liked that Hal Jordan is a pilot, so I wanted to write something that showcased that part of his life, since I am an aviation enthusiast myself. This fic has a fair amount of medical and aviation terminology in it for flavor, but familiarity with terms is not necessary for enjoyment. Please be aware that there are some potentially graphic descriptions of bleeding and injuries. (On AO3)

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The third floor of the hospital is quiet, and Bruce keeps his steps light and purposeful, his eyes scanning restlessly. A nurse working at a mostly-empty station in the middle of the hallway gives him a nod, and returns to her work without a word. The door to room 317 is ajar, just a crack, and he stops for a moment to look inside and assess.

Hal is sitting up in bed, staring blankly forward, looking pale and tired and forlorn. His hands are gripping the blanket, and there’s a soft whirr as the automatic blood pressure cuff around his arm begins to inflate. From the brief report he’d gotten on the phone, he knows Hal had gotten a blood transfusion earlier, but the IV drip he’s getting now looks like it’s just normal saline.

He pushes the door open, and Hal’s eyes flick toward him, for just a moment, and Bruce realizes Hal hasn’t been staring at nothing, he’s been staring at a clock.

“Do you know how it feels, to wake up in a place like this, and realize absolutely no one in the world cares about you?” Hal says, in a low, scraping voice. He rubs his hands roughly over his face. “Sorry, that’s the drugs talking. And the blood loss, probably.”

“If you’re referencing the fact that it’s me who’s here, I’m curious about that myself. I assumed I’d rate tenth on your list of emergency contacts, if that,” Bruce says, moving to the other side of the bed.

“Nope, you’re third,” Hal says offhandedly, eyes tracking his progress. His head doesn’t move.

“Then I can explain. Barry is at a conference out of town. He was willing to drop everything and try to get here, but as he’s the main presenter, I discouraged him from doing that. Oliver is dealing with a massive bank heist with a hostage situation. I updated Dinah on your status, so he won’t worry too much when he finally gets all the messages from the hospital,” Bruce says, but his eyes are on the right side of Hal’s neck.

I told them both I would take care of you, he thinks, but he hadn’t been prepared for the way it would feel, to see Hal like this. He’d been told Hal was stable, would be discharged soon, and he’d foolishly thought that would make it easier. But the sight of that white bandage on Hal’s neck, tape running every which way in an effort to keep it in place, and the bruising he can see beginning just below the edges of the bandage, starts up an unexpected ache in his chest.

Hal sees him looking, but what he’s feeling must not show on his face, because he just says, “They’ve had a hell of a time keeping it on. There’s like, sixty-something stitches under there, and somehow I’m still bleeding. I asked the doctor why they couldn’t just put the tape all the way around my neck, really get the pressure they want, and he said, ‘that could occlude both of your carotid arteries’. Doctors are no fun.” There’s a pause, when Hal turns his whole body to pick up a cup of water and takes a few sips. “You are here to spring me, right? Because I’m so ready to get out of here.”

“Yes. You’ll be discharged soon.” That’s what he’d been told on the phone, anyway. Once he’d gotten to the hospital, he hadn’t thought about finding out more information or getting the discharge process started. He’d just needed to see Hal. Especially after he’d seen the plane.

As though Hal can read his mind, he says, “Did you stop by Ferris before you came here?”

“Yes,” Bruce says. “Carol wanted to be here, but there was a lot happening that she needed to handle. I collected your belongings from your locker, including your phone.”

Hal doesn’t really seem to hear him, and if possible, looks even more tired than before. “I landed the plane, right? My memories are pretty blurry at that point, but I landed it, didn’t I?”

Bruce thinks about the jet, askew off the side of the runway, the front landing gear bent and the tires buried deep in the dirt. Thinks about the blood all over the instruments, and down the side of the plane where they’d pulled Hal out. “You landed it,” he says, and the ache in his chest is worse than ever.

“Good,” Hal says, giving the tiniest of nods.

He looks like he’s drifting, his face drawn, so Bruce holds in all the questions he wants to ask.

There’s a soft knock at the door, and the nurse comes in holding a clear plastic bag filled with medications and wound care supplies, and handful of paperwork. She glances at the latest blood pressure reading before she removes the cuff, then moves to the other side of the bed to disconnect the IV.

“You’re doing well, your BP’s just a little low. You’ll need to take it easy for the next few weeks, while your blood volume replenishes,” she says, as she peels away the clear dressing on Hal’s arm and pulls out the IV catheter.

“Sure,” Hal says, and Bruce thinks that if anyone deserves to take it easy for a little while, it’s Hal.

Bruce listens attentively as the nurse runs through the list of medications he’s being discharged with, along with necessary wound care and his scheduled follow-up appointment. She summarizes the care he’s received, including the surgery that repaired his nicked artery and closed his neck wound. He can tell that Hal is trying to follow, trying to keep up with the constant flow of words, but it’s clear that he’s having a difficult time.

“The surgeon was considering putting in a drain,” the nurse says, and that pulls Hal’s attention back. “If the swelling gets worse, or doesn’t decrease over the next few days, you’ll need to be reassessed.” Her gaze moves to Bruce then, including him. “You’ll also need to start slowly, gently moving your neck tomorrow, to stretch out those muscles. Having them tense all the time will only increase your pain. Just be careful of your stitches—if anything hurts near them, stop.”

Hal agrees, and signs the paperwork she hands him. Then the nurse is gone, promising to return in a few minutes.

“I brought you some clothes,” Bruce says into the sudden quiet of the room. “In case you don’t want to leave in that hospital gown.”

Hal brightens a little at that, seems to finally notice the bag Bruce is holding. “Yeah, I would love to get out of this thing,” he says, plucking irritably at the string ties.

He watches as Hal eases himself over until he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, and sets the bag next to him. He turns mostly away, watching Hal out of the corner of his eye, to give him what privacy he can.

“Um,” Hal says after a moment, and Bruce finally turns to look.

Hal has already managed to get the sweatpants and socks on, but the button-down shirt he’d shrugged into is still mostly draped open across his chest. Without being able to duck his head, he’s having a hard time aligning the buttons properly. And his hands are shaking.

“Let me,” Bruce says, stepping close and lightly tugging the plackets until the shirt settles into place. It’s soothing, while he buttons, to feel the warmth of Hal’s skin through the fabric, to let his fingers brush against Hal’s chest and know that he still breathes, that his heart beats steadily on. He’s struck with a strange, powerful urge to take Hal into his arms, to hold him tightly until the fear still churning inside him finally recedes. Instead, he steps back, hands dropping away. “All finished.”

“Thanks,” Hal says, not quite managing to look at him.

He looks like he might say something else, but the nurse returns then, pushing a wheelchair. “Your chariot awaits,” she says cheerfully as she rolls it closer to the bed.

While she gets him settled, Bruce busies himself gathering Hal’s few belongings in the now-empty clothes bag, along with the medications and discharge instructions.

“Ready?” She asks, and then they’re headed out the door.

She waits with Hal on the sidewalk while Bruce brings the car around. He’d driven a sedan, hoping it’d be easier to get Hal into than a low-slung sports car. It still takes some maneuvering, and Hal lets out a few hisses of pain, but they finally manage to get him settled in the front seat.

They’re a few minutes away from the hospital when he remembers Hal’s phone, and retrieves it from the center console. There are more than a hundred text messages and missed calls. He turns to offer it to Hal, and sees he’s already dozed off.

Bruce puts the phone on silent, and sets it in a cup holder. Hal can deal with it later.

It’s not until the car is crunching slowly along the gravel driveway that Hal wakes up. “Hey,” he says sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. “This doesn’t look like my apartment.”

“That’s because it’s not,” Bruce says, amused in spite of himself. “You shouldn’t be alone right now, not with an injury like that.” He pulls around to the side entrance, the one without stairs.

“Okay,” Hal says, though it doesn’t really sound like it is. “But you need to let the NTSB know I’m here. They’ll be expecting me at my apartment.”

“They were on site when I stopped by Ferris,” Bruce says, getting out of the car and waiting for Hal to do the same. “I let the investigators know you’d be here. Some of them actually went to interview you at the hospital, but you were unconscious at the time. They’ll be here tomorrow.”

“I’d wondered about that,” Hal says, lightly touching the bandage at his neck.

“Are you hungry?” Bruce asks, leaning back into the car to grab the bag of medication. Hal will likely need something for pain soon. “I’m sure Alfred has dinner prepared.”

“I could eat,” Hal says.

He looks like he regrets that declaration, though, when the food is served. In front of Hal is a spinach and kale salad, sprinkled generously with beans and lentils. Next to it is a bowl of beef and barley soup.

“Uh, am I missing something? Being punished?” he asks, looking from his own options to Bruce’s plate, on which a creamy pasta with shrimp and scallops is piled high.

“Nothing like that,” Bruce says, carefully spinning some pasta onto his fork. “Those are iron-rich foods to help replenish the blood you lost. And the soup will help with dehydration. Be grateful there’s no liver.”

“Oh,” Hal says firmly, immediately spearing some spinach. “I’m grateful.”

Bruce lets him eat in peace for a few minutes before asking, “Will the ring help you heal faster?”

“To some degree,” Hal says. “It’s probably also what kept me from actually dying of blood loss.”

“That, along with pure stubbornness,” Bruce says wryly.

“Oh, that’s actually just force of will, it’s my superpower,” Hal says, smirking.

They’ve just finished dessert when Oliver shows up, which is the exact moment he remembers Hal’s phone, and the fact that there are probably a lot of people Hal needs to contact. He’s ashamed to admit, if only to himself, that he’d been enjoying Hal’s full attention, without any distractions.

Hal’s head turns a little, automatically, when Oliver comes in, and Bruce catches his wince. He’s smiling though, so it can’t be that bad. “Ollie!” he says brightly.

“Hey, just came to see how you were doing.” His gaze drifts over. “Bruce said he was picking you up from the hospital, but it’s been radio silence since then. How are you doing?”

“We haven’t been here long. And I haven’t even thought about calling anybody. Sorry,” Hal says, rubbing at his face, eyes closed.

“You’ve had a hell of a day,” Oliver says easily, eyes on the tape snaking across Hal’s neck. “I won’t stay long. Hey, why don’t I show you to the usual guest room?”

Bruce clears his throat, feeling awkward at interrupting their moment. “Please do. Hal, I’m going to get your phone out of the car.”

“Thanks,” he says, and then he and Oliver are standing and making their way slowly down the hallway.

“Didn’t know the planes you were flying these days were so vicious,” is the last thing he hears as he heads the other way, along with Hal’s answering laugh.

When he returns, they’re both sitting on the bed, Oliver’s arm slung across Hal’s shoulder, and he’s embarrassed by the twinge of jealousy he feels at that. He hands Hal his phone, and it’s a little comical, the way his eyes widen.

“Holy shit,” he says, starting to click through all the messages, his phone held out awkwardly in front of him.

“What, did you forget you have friends?” Oliver asks teasingly.

“I’m just impressed that the five friends I have managed to call and text me this much,” Hal says, laughing.

Bruce makes his retreat then, sorting through Hal’s medications to make a schedule of what needs to be given, and when. He’s not quite finished when Oliver says goodbye and lets himself out, though not without an obligatory and vaguely threatening “you better take good care of him.” He knows Oliver would prefer Hal to stay with him, but he doesn’t have the medical experience or supplies that Bruce has on hand.

He sorts out what Hal needs to take tonight, along with a glass of water. Hal is cautiously opening drawers of an old, creaky dresser when he walks into the guest room.

“Can I help you with something?”

Hal startles a little, turning his whole body to glare. “I’m going to get you some tap shoes. Then I’ll be able to hear you click-clacking all the way down the hall.”

“What were you looking for?” Bruce asks, completely ignoring the mental image that invokes.

“Oh, a shirt,” Hal says, tugging at the button-down he’s still wearing. “I don’t really want to sleep in this, but I’m really cold, so I want something.”

“That’s the blood loss,” Bruce says. “I’ll be right back.” He grabs one of his own long sleeve shirts, along with another blanket.

Hal has his shirt unbuttoned when he returns, and Bruce’s eyes catch on the livid bruise that’s forming above his collarbone. “I have some medication for you, as well,” he says, handing Hal the shirt and spreading the extra blanket across the bed.

The shirt is large, but Hal still works his way carefully into it, trying not to move his neck or catch his bandage as he puts it on. Bruce turns mostly away again, but this time to keep his gaze from lingering inappropriately.

“There’s a couple of antibiotics, something for pain, and a medication to help keep your blood pressure up,” he says, once Hal is seated on the bed again.

“Delightful,” Hal says, eyeing the collection of pills. “My neck is really starting to hurt.” He takes them carefully one at a time, tilting his head back the little bit that he can. “Hey, how come I’m still having blood loss symptoms? Why didn’t the hospital put back as much as I lost?”

“Even in these modern times, blood transfusions aren’t completely risk-free,” Bruce says, sitting in a chair close to the bed. “The more they transfuse, the higher the likelihood of electrolyte imbalance, allergic reaction, or even a bacterial infection. They gave you three bags of packed red blood cells, and that was enough to stabilize you, so they didn’t push any more. It’s a careful balance, to bring up your oxygen levels and blood pressure without overloading your cardiac system.”

Hal raises his eyebrows. “You sure know a lot. Did you want to be a doctor, or something?”

“I learned a lot of basic first aid from Alfred at a young age, along with some field medicine. But once I started taking my son on patrol with me, I was determined to become as much of a medical expert as possible, in case it might be useful.”

Hal gives the barest nod, looking suddenly very serious. “Of course.”

“Hal,” Bruce says, equally grave, and finally unable to hold in the question he’s been wanting to ask all day. “Why didn’t you eject?”

“I thought I could make it,” Hal says, looking at him briefly, then away again. “I lost a plane once, when I got too far in my own head. The way it felt, watching her impact the ground below me, knowing that the loss of that beautiful bird was all on me��I couldn’t do that again. This time, I had to save her.”

“Hal,” he says, his hand closing around Hal’s arm, leaning in and trying to catch his gaze. “You know a plane isn’t worth your life, right? It could never matter as much as you do. You know that, don’t you?”

He gets a quiet sound of assent, and Bruce leaves before he can give too much of himself away.

There’s nothing like a near-death experience to put things in perspective, even if it’s not your near-death experience.

He checks on Hal several times though the night, and when he leans into the room at around six-thirty in the morning, he’s actually awake and alert enough to answer a few questions.

“Hey, I was kind of zoning out during that whole discharge thing,” Hal says, straightening the sheets. “Can I shower with this thing on? Should I take it off now?” His fingers lightly trace the edges of the bandage.

“Leave it on. You need the dressing changed anyway, and the hot water will make it easier to remove. I’ll get everything prepared if you’d like to shower now.”

“Sure,” Hal says. “Um, can I take some more pain medication? It’s really starting to throb.”

“You should really have food, first,” Bruce says, then pauses, considering. “Unless you wouldn’t mind taking it with a glass of chocolate milk?”

Hal laughs. “Haven’t had that in a long time. It’ll be a little treat, I guess.”

Bruce gathers a change of clothes, the medications, and the milk, and makes sure Hal knows where the spare towels are before leaving him to shower. He has his supplies set up by the time Hal emerges, but does a little double-take when he strides out of the bathroom shirtless.

“I wanted to hurry before it dried,” Hal says, catching his look.

“Fine,” Bruce says, gesturing to the chair he has set up in front of him. He pulls on some gloves, and starts with the adhesive remover, carefully peeling off all the tape. The gauze pad is still adhered to the wound, though. There’s a lot more dried blood under it than he’d expected. “Why the hell didn’t they use telfa?” he grumbles.

“Sorry, what?”

“Nothing. This is going to hurt.” He peels up a corner carefully, and gently sweeps under the bandage with a wet swab. “Guess it’s good you didn’t wear a shirt,” he adds, spraying a little saline on Hal’s neck.

“Yep,” Hal says, absently wiping his chest. He winces a little as Bruce keeps working.

Finally, he manages to detach the dressing without starting any fresh bleeding. He stares at the bruised, swollen skin with its crescent moon of stitches, assessing. “There was some significant force here,” he says, gently pressing around the wound, and Hal makes a little sound. “Looks like it nearly went through your neck.”

“Guess I got lucky,” Hal says, staring fixedly ahead.

“There’s quite a bit of dried blood around your stitches. I need to clean the area, and apply the ointment. Are you okay to do that now, or do you need a break?”

“I’m good, go ahead.”

He grabs Hal a towel this time, draping it across his chest and shoulders.

“You gonna get me wet?” Hal asks with a smirk, and gets a spray of saline in his hair for his trouble. He just laughs.

Bruce works patiently and carefully with swabs, scrubbing the dried blood away. It’s time-consuming both because of the sheer number of stitches, and because Hal keeps leaning involuntarily away from him. When he’s done, he sprays more saline to rinse, and isn’t completely reassured by what he sees.

While the edges of the wound are mostly well-approximated, a few of the stitches at the bottom of the crescent moon are under greater tension than the others. It’s from the swelling, and though the bruise above Hal’s collarbone tells him the wound is draining, it’s not as fast as he’d like. It’s obvious why Hal doesn’t want to turn his head; the pressure must be uncomfortable, at best.

He gently blots the wound dry with gauze, monitoring Hal’s pain response. Then he grabs a clean swab and gently spreads antibiotic ointment on the wound, bandaging it up with non-stick dressing and a neat latticework of tape. “We’ll have to do this again, tonight.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Hal says. “Is it time for breakfast?”

“Sure,” Bruce says, pulling the towel away. “Get dressed.”

The NTSB shows up about an hour after breakfast, and Alfred shows them to the sitting room for the interview. Bruce waits until Alfred’s returned to the kitchen, then creeps over to an open doorway. He’s positioned where he is unlikely to be seen by Hal or the investigators, but can still hear and see everything himself. And he’d be embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping in his own home, but he needs to know.

“We have the tower recording from your test flight, and we’re currently reviewing it,” an investigator says, “but we’d like to hear what happened in your own words.”

“I took the flight knowing that the plane was flawed, but I didn’t expect that to reveal itself quite so early,” Hal says with a shrug, leaning back in his chair.

The investigator looks up from adjusting a recording device. “You knew there was an issue with the plane?”

“Of course I did,” Hal says easily. “There are always issues when manufacturers try to make planes smarter than pilots, as I’m sure you know very well.”

There’s a small smile from one of the investigators, along with a nod of agreement. “What were your concerns about this plane?”

“Well, it’s a fighter jet with an excessive payload on the wings, which has really screwed with its aerodynamics, and has delicate recon equipment on the belly. Those components can be damaged by excessive speed, so it has a built-in automatic system that deploys the spoilers any time an overspeed is detected. And based on the schematics I saw, this data is fed from only one pitot tube, with no redundancy.”

Bruce finds himself leaning closer, compelled by the absolute confidence in Hal’s voice.

“This is a problem, because it’s absurd to purposely slow down a fighter jet, especially with no warning to the pilot.” Hal continues, expression intense. “This plane is trying to be too many things. It’s a bad compromise. Like a spork. Sure, it can work as a spoon or a fork, but it’s not great for either, and it’s no one’s first choice. If the military wants more payload, it has bombers. If it wants to do recon, it has stealth jets or UAVs. And if they need to engage enemy aircraft, they have fighter jets. There’s no need for a plane to be all three.”

“And knowing the plane had problems, you flew it anyway?”

“That’s what a test pilot is for,” Hal says. “Admittedly, I was expecting some control issues and flight instability, not a life-threatening injury.”

Hal looks like he’s going to say something else about that, but then the investigator says, “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. Was this the first time you’d flown a NeoJet aircraft?”

“Yes. My impression is that the company is mainly in the prototype stage of production, and they don’t actually have that many functional, flightworthy aircraft.”

Bruce catches a surly look from one of the investigators.

“Okay, how did your flight start out that morning?”

“It was good. Nice weather, not too much crosswind. I did some basic handling, just to get a feel for the aircraft, then I started testing the safety systems. I brought the speed down until I got a stall warning, I did a low flyover to make sure the ground proximity warning was functional. I got back up to five thousand feet and did some maneuverability tests: I banked it hard a few times, flew it inverted, and pitched the nose up for maximum climb. Next I was going to test the overspeed system.”

“How was it handling at that point?”

“A little clunky, and the controls weren’t as light as they should be, but it was doing what I asked,” Hal says, hand lightly tracing the bandage on his neck. “As I was getting the speed up, I decided to do a few aileron rolls. But just as I started a roll to the left, all the spoilers deployed, and it arrested the speed so suddenly it felt like hitting a wall.”

“Had the overspeed warning gone off?”

“No, I never heard or saw it. All of a sudden, the plane is practically stopping in midair, and at the same time something sliced my neck open. I distinctly remember thinking ‘who left a knife in the cockpit?’ as I put my hand up to try and stop the bleeding. It wasn’t a knife, though, was it?”

“No,” an investigator says. “It was a piece of aluminum frame from the circuit breaker panel at the rear of the cockpit. All four pieces were supposed to be secured with screws, but that side had only been temporarily tacked up. We’re trying to find out why.” He rustles through a manila folder, and slides a picture across to Hal. “Here it is. It was found on the cockpit floor.”

Hal lifts the picture to study it carefully. “Yep, that sharp edge sure found me.” He sets it down without saying anything else, but Bruce can practically feel the anger radiating off him.

“What happened next?”

“Well, that sudden slow-down slammed me forward—I could feel the entire airframe creaking under the strain—and apparently it temporarily lodged a piece of metal in my neck. That was a little disorienting, I can tell you. The plane tipped forward into a dive, I could feel the blood running down my neck, and all I could think about was where the runway was. I didn’t pull it out of the dive until pretty late, because I needed to get down quickly, and because I knew I’d need both hands to pull it up, and I didn’t want to let up pressure until I had to.”

“Were you far from the runway?”

“No, I was honestly a little too close. I didn’t have much time to slow it down, and I wasn’t trusting the spoilers much, since I figured if I tried it might drop like a rock. Thankfully it’s a pretty long runway. I remember setting it down, and engaging the thrust reversers. I could feel myself losing consciousness, so I waited until the last second, and then I shut them down. I passed out probably a few seconds after that, I’d guess.”

“If the jet was still carrying speed, why did you stop the thrust reverse?”

“Because a plane with running engines is not approachable by emergency crews. I knew I didn’t have long, and the jet wasn’t moving so fast that I didn’t think it’d roll to a stop fairly quickly. Besides, there’s a sandpit at the end of the runway for that purpose.”

“Turns out you didn’t need the sandpit,” the investigator with the manila folder says. He slides it closer to Hal. “Would you like to see the pictures we took of the plane?”

Hal hesitates then, hand hovering over the folder for a long moment. “Yeah, I guess I would.”

Bruce watches, concerned, as Hal lifts the stack of photos up and starts flipping through them. He knows when Hal gets to the pictures of the cockpit by the way his eyes widen, and his face goes pale. He stares for a long time, then keeps moving through the rest of the pictures. “I knew it was bad, but…not that bad.”

Watching the scene play out is a potent reminder to Bruce that, unlike many other members of the Justice League, Hal’s civilian job is also dangerous. It’s painful to think that he could lose Hal, not to an alien force or a particularly powerful villain, but simply to human error.

“Did you consider ejecting?” The investigator asks, interrupting Bruce’s thoughts. He slides the photos back in the folder and tucks them in his clipboard.

“Yeah, for a second, as I was heading straight toward the ground. But I felt that I could get it down safely, so that’s what I was determined to do.”

“That was some truly impressive flying. Thank you for your time,” the investigator says, shaking Hal’s hand. “Please let us know if you think of any other details.”

“Sure,” Hal says, then, “Hey, wait.” He points to one of the men. “Aren’t you a representative from the manufacturer?”

“Yes,” the man says shortly, looking surprised.

“Well, your plane’s fucked up,” Hal says.

“I’m getting that,” the man says grimly, and Bruce slips away, feeling a little lighter.

Hal finds him not long after the interview, smiling when Bruce glances up at him.

“I think it went pretty well. Managed to get through everything without cursing. Well, mostly. The NTSB is planning to thoroughly check their other prototype planes, along with their schematics and automated systems. That’s gonna hold up their manufacturing and test flights for a while,” Hal says cheerfully.

Bruce makes a noncommittal noise at that, which is, he realizes a moment later, a mistake.

“Hey, Bruce? Were you by chance considering buying NeoJet just to shut them down?”

He hesitates, weighing his answer, but Hal looks amused more than anything. “I wasn’t actually thinking of shutting them down. But they’re clearly lacking quality control, so I felt some new management might hone their attention to detail.”

Hal laughs. “Yeah, okay. Some of the engineers there are doing good work, I’d hate to see them punished. And their prototype intended to compete with the Cessna in the civil aviation market looks good.” He reaches up and traces the bandage idly. “Besides, I don’t think I’ll be doing much flying for a while, so it’s not likely I’ll test their planes again.”

Bruce nods, and he’s saved from having to say more by the arrival of Barry, followed shortly by Carol.

They all end up having lunch together in the dining room, as Alfred is only too happy to whip up some extra portions. The three of them talk excitedly together, Carol asking questions about the investigation, and Barry asking the follow-up questions someone not familiar with aviation would ask. Bruce sits quietly, listening with interest, but not contributing unless asked something directly.

They talk a little while after the plates are cleared, but eventually Barry says goodbye. When Hal excuses himself from the table, Carol follows after him. Bruce sits there for a moment longer, trying not to let his thoughts drift to their logical conclusions, then gathers Hal’s pain medication and a glass of water.

The door to the guest bedroom is open, and he has to push down a wave of jealousy at the way Carol is leaned against Hal’s side, arm around his waist as she talks quietly to him. If Hal could turn his head, they’d be close enough to kiss.

Of course. If there was something powerful enough to rejuvenate their on-again-off-again relationship, it’d be this.

He’s also had enough of lurking outside doorways for today. “How’s the pain?” he asks, eyes dropping momentarily to Carol’s other hand, which is curled lightly around Hal’s bicep.

“Not terrible,” Hal says. It’s probably a lie.

“Here,” he says, handing over the medicine. “Try to get some rest.”

He leaves then, feeling restless and unsettled, and resists the urge to look back.

He doesn’t know when she leaves, but he assumes she’ll be back, probably more often than he’d like.

Hal is napping in the late afternoon when Clark drops by. It’s ostensibly to check on how Hal is doing, but he ends up following Bruce around the house and then the grounds, going on about Bruce’s generosity in looking after Hal and giving him a bed to sleep in, all while giving him significant looks that Bruce pointedly ignores. It’s heavy-handed, at best, but it does get him to admit that Carol had visited, and that, if he’d actually had a chance, he’s probably missed it by now.

That night, Hal dreams that he loses control of his plane, and is caught in a deadly spin, unrecoverable. He yanks on the control column, but it’s unresponsive, and he tries desperately to eject. Nothing happens.

He pushes helplessly on the canopy, feet pressing hard on the rudder pedals, and fingers desperately holding the eject button as the ground spirals closer. Dread fills his stomach with a sick leaden weight, and in the dream he’s screaming, but when he startles awake his jaw is clenched shut and his throat is silent.

It’s disorienting, and he blinks, looking around the strange dark bedroom. He’s sweaty, panting, his entire body burning hot, and there’s nausea swirling in his gut. Something’s not right. He looks to the window with its open curtains, the moonlight streaming through. Looks toward the door, still closed.

Wait.

He looks back to the window, then down at his pillow. It seems oddly dark in the moonlight, shadowed. A sharp pain pulses through him, abrupt and shocking, as he reaches out and touches it. His hand comes away wet with blood, and this time, he really does scream.

Bruce sits beside the bed in the Batcave’s little medbay, eyes shifting from Hal’s face to the IV line, then back again. Hal’s pulse is a slightly fluctuating digit on the monitor, but Bruce can’t resist lightly touching the inside of Hal’s wrist every few minutes, just to feel that strong, steady beat.

He’d prefer to be in the suit, down here. It has always made him feel centered, in control of his emotions, as though there is nothing he cannot handle. It’s as if, by embodying his fear, he can tame it and make it useful. It would be a comfort, to wear it now. But he’s certain it wouldn’t be a comfort to Hal, to wake and find him armored and cowled, so he doesn’t put it on.

Hal doesn’t stir for several more hours, more than halfway through his second bag of IV fluids. Bruce’s hand has been resting close to his, almost close enough to touch, so he catches the first twitches of Hal’s fingers, before he tentatively lifts the hand up to rub his eyes. He blinks up at the ceiling, looking confused, and the confusion deepens when he tries to turn his head and is stopped by the high sides of the special pillow Alfred rigged for him.

Bruce stands, so he’s more easily in Hal’s sightline.

“What happened?” Hal asks, voice scratchy.

“You ripped your stitches in your sleep. You were screaming,” Bruce says quietly. Luckily you didn’t tear the ones holding your artery together, or we would’ve had to take you to a hospital.”

“Shit,” Hal says, eyes darting away to the cave formations above before returning to Bruce. “Did I lose a lot of blood?”

“Not an amount that would normally be significant. However, on top of your previous blood loss,” he says, shaking his head a little. “We were concerned. But your blood pressure and oxygen saturation levels have remained at acceptable levels, and the new sutures Alfred placed are holding well, so we kept you here.”

“That’s…good,” Hal says hesitantly. He points toward the IV bag, and Bruce notices the shaking in his hand. “What are you giving me?”

“Lactated Ringer’s,” he says.

Hal wrinkles his nose. “That sounds like it has milk in it.”

“It does not, I assure you. It’s restoring the electrolytes you need,” he says, lightly resting his hand on Hal’s arm. “And while I’m sure your ring is helping you regenerate your blood volume, I think it’s best you don’t push your luck for a little while. Why don’t you rest some more?”

Hal, who’s been looking tired the last few minutes, says, “Sure,” and closes his eyes.

Bruce leaves his hand right where it is, and settles back into his chair.

Much later, Bruce returns from checking the monitors to find Hal sitting up, talking quietly to Alfred. He pauses for a moment to enjoy the sight of Hal, alert and smiling and not looking too much worse for wear.

“I’ll make sure your room is prepared,” he hears Alfred say, before he turns and quietly disappears up the stairs.

Hal droops a little the moment he’s gone, looking fatigued.

Bruce moves toward him, intending to ask questions, to check on how he’s doing, but instead his jaw remains tight and his step doesn’t slow as he finally gives in, does what he’s been wanting to this entire time. He closes the distance between them until he can gently pull Hal into his arms, feel the reassuring warmth of his body, the movement of his chest as he breathes. If he’d had enough forethought to guess how Hal would react, he wouldn’t have imagined the way Hal sort of folds into him, arms coming around his waist as he leans into Bruce. He holds it as long as he can, not knowing when Hal might be bothered by the press of their bodies, by the way Bruce has his head ducked down, cheek resting against the uninjured side of Hal’s neck.

He can feel Hal’s pulse against his skin, and he savors it for a moment before carefully disentangling them.

“You’re wanting to go back to the guest room?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” Hal says, tucking his arms around himself, looking cold. “Sorry if I ruined your mattress.”

“Just a pillow, don’t worry about it. Are you feeling lightheaded?” he asks, watching Hal’s face closely.

“No, not really.” He holds up his hands. “I’m just a little shaky.”

Hal’s still standing upright, so Bruce is willing to believe him, at least to some degree. Doesn’t mean he won’t be taking precautions, though. “I’m going to help you up the stairs, okay?” He sees the beginning of protest in Hal’s face. “Lose any more blood in this house, and you and I are really going to have a problem.”

That gets him a little huff of laughter, so he hooks his arm under Hal’s and starts them forward. He says nothing at the slow pace, or the way Hal leans heavier and heavier against him.

“I don’t think these stairs are up to code,” Hal grumbles.

“They’re secret stairs, they don’t have to be,” he says, amused. “You’ll have lower stamina for a while, until your blood volume completely regenerates.”

“Guess I’m not hitting the club for a while,” Hal says with a wink, and Bruce decides it’s best not to respond. It’ll only encourage him.

He manages to get Hal all the way down the hallway to the guest bedroom, and he drops gratefully to the freshly-made bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. Bruce lifts the loosely-taped corner of the bandage, making sure there’s no leakage and the stitches haven’t been overly stressed.

“You’ll need to avoid doing anything strenuous while the edges of the wound are healing again,” he says, carefully taping it back in place.

“Yeah, I think the stairs proved my limits to me,” Hal says.

“I’m especially concerned about preserving the integrity of the stitches on your artery, which cannot be monitored. If they fail, you—”

“You’re really doing wonders for my blood pressure,” Hal says sharply, but he still lets Bruce pull down the covers, and help him carefully lay back. “You realize I didn’t intentionally tear out my stitches, right? You know that it was an accident, and I never intended to bleed all over your linens?”

He touches his fingers to Hal’s forehead, gently combing away the hair that’s fallen across it. “I know,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.” At that, Hal’s expression shifts to something unreadable, and Bruce lifts his hand away. “Try to get some rest,” he says, and quietly closes the door behind him.

Hal wakes to bright sunlight, and blinks in confusion at the ceiling until everything slots together. His neck is throbbing, and he can’t turn his head even if he wanted to, because Bruce brought the weird pillow from the cave with him.

He shifts his whole body just a little, enough to see that there’s someone else in the room with him. Dick is in a chair by the bed, looking at something on his phone. He puts it down the moment he catches Hal’s movement, though.

“Hey, welcome back! You want to sit up?”

“Yes,” Hal says, and Dick cups a hand around the back of his neck, sliding his other arm around Hal’s shoulders and slowly lifting him up. He moves the weird pillow out of the way, and props him up on several others. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, it seems like you might need someone looking out for you,” Dick says, shrugging. “Also, this was the only way to get Bruce to go to sleep.”

“Oh,” Hal says.

He’s tempted to ask if that hug in the cave had really happened, or if it was some sort of blood loss-induced hallucination. But of course Dick wouldn’t know. He hadn’t been there.

Bruce had looked so stern striding toward him, jaw set, and Hal had been tensing up for some kind of lecture, when instead he’d just…taken Hal into his arms. And Hal had been unable to resist swaying into him, taking the comfort he needed from the heat and strength of Bruce’s body. The way Bruce had held him, tightly but not too tight, had settled something in him, steadied him.

He hated to think he’d been that transparent, but it was clear that Bruce had seen what he needed and then begrudgingly provided it, if the embarrassed look as he pulled away was anything to go by. And Hal had felt ashamed then, of being cold and tired and lonely, of needing comfort. So he hadn’t wanted Bruce’s help, Bruce’s touch, as they made their way upstairs.

He’d just wanted Bruce to leave him alone.

But in the bedroom, when Bruce had stroked his hair with a strange softness in his features, he’d felt the shame evaporate.

“Tim was hoping you’d wake up on his shift, but it looks like I’m the lucky one,” Dick says, seemingly unbothered by Hal’s long silence. “I’m under orders to have you eat something as soon as you wake up. Are you feeling nauseous?”

“No,” Hal says. He’s not sure he’s hungry, either.

“Then let’s give it a try,” Dick says.

There’s a thermos right there on the bedside table, and Hal watches in amusement as Dick pours some into a mug and hands it over, then pours some more into the lid for himself. As an afterthought, he opens a drawer and pulls out a spoon, which he passes to Hal, along with some napkins.

“Mmm, chicken and lentil,” he says, taking a noisy sip. “Technically the soup is supposed to be just for you, so I hope we can keep this between us.”

Hal grins, amused, and takes a careful spoonful. It really is tasty. “If anybody asks, I was really hungry,” he says with a wink.

“I knew I could count on you,” Dick says, and pours himself a little more.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, but Hal finally can’t help saying, “I just don’t understand why he’s doing this.”

“Who, Alfred? He loves feeding people.”

“No, Bruce. Why is he being nice to me?” Hal says, looking away from his soup to gauge Dick’s reaction. “I’m like, his least favorite member of the Justice League.”

Dick laughs then, a big friendly contagious laugh that makes Hal want to join in, even though he’s clearly being laughed at. “Is that what he told you?” he gets out, wheezing a little. “Oh, man.”

He waits until Dick’s mirth has tapered off before speaking again. “I don’t think I’m completely off-base, here. He almost never agrees with my plans, and he doesn’t think I do anything the way I should. Also, he’s weirdly annoyed by the glowing, which I can’t do anything about.”

“Bruce has a tendency to believe he knows best,” Dick says, shrugging. “It’s one of his short-comings as a person. And he tends to take on responsibility in order to limit the impact of failure on others. He feels he can manage that better.”

“That’s…kind of fucked up,” Hal says, shaking his head. “But you’re forgetting that we also argue a lot. Sometimes he clenches his jaw so hard, I think he’s going to crack his teeth.”

“He only argues with people he respects,” Dick says, grinning. “If he doesn’t respect you, he’ll just straight up walk away from the conversation. Or, if he can’t leave, he absolutely will not engage. He’ll just stare blankly. It really made those society parties entertaining when I was a kid, let me tell you.”

“Well, even if I’m not his least favorite, I still don’t get why he’s doing all this,” he says, gesturing broadly. “He could have just hired a nurse to check on me at my apartment. He didn’t have to let me stay in his guest room.”

“I know it’s hard to believe that a man who dresses as a giant bat possesses a lot of human empathy, but he really does,” Dick says, pouring the rest of the soup into Hal’s mug. “He cares about other people.”

Hal narrows his eyes. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“It’s not a question for me to answer,” Dick says easily. “Finish your soup. I have some pain medicine for you.”

Hal’s neck twinges sharply every time he forgets himself and automatically tries to dip his head down to meet the spoon he’s lifting, and it has certainly slowed his progress in eating. He keeps leaning his body further forward instead, because he doesn’t want to spill soup down his front. He knows he must look ridiculous, though, and it’s a credit to Dick that he keeps a straight face during the process. When there’s nothing left but broth, he manages to tip most of it into his mouth.

He hadn’t thought he was hungry, but he suddenly feels much better.

“Okay,” Dick says, taking the mug and spoon back from him. “Do you want some iced tea? Alfred thinks it’s an abomination, but we keep making it anyway.”

“Sure,” Hal says, and Dick returns shortly with a glass of tea and several pills. He takes them, and shifts around in bed. The throbbing in his neck is making him feel restless. “Hey, am I allowed to go for a walk, or am I supposed to stay in bed?”

“Frequent movement is key to preventing DVTs,” Dick says seriously in a perfect public-service-announcement voice, then grins. “Yeah, you can get up. Just let me check your dressing first.”

He waits patiently as Dick gathers the necessary supplies, then has to hide his wince as he starts working. He’s sure Dick isn’t being rough on purpose, but he’s not as deft or careful as Bruce is, either. It’s strange, to suddenly be aware of a kindness you didn’t know you were receiving.

When he’s finished, Dick has Hal dangle his legs over the side of the bed for a few minutes before he stands, explaining that it will help with lightheadedness in a rote way that implies he’s said it dozens of times. Even then, he keeps a light hold on Hal’s arms when he stands, watching carefully.

“I’m good,” Hal says, once he’s sure. “Let’s go.”

Dick walks him slowly through the house, and then out to the back porch and the broad stretch of lawn beyond it. Hal tries to listen to Dick’s friendly voice, tries to pay attention to what he’s saying, but finds his thoughts continually returning to Bruce, and he knows he’s not holding up his end of the conversation at all.

If Dick notices, he doesn’t seem to mind.

He slept much longer than he intended, and the first thing he does is check on Hal. He finds him propped up in bed, frowning at his phone.

“I notified the league of the status of your injury, and told them you’d need some time to recover before they visit again. However, I didn’t notify Carol, in case you wanted to do that yourself.” He glances at his watch. “It’s not too late to invite her to dinner.”

Hal gives him an odd look. “Why? She already knows it’ll be a while before I can fly again, and she’s busy getting all of my scheduled flights covered. She doesn’t need to waste time hanging out with me.”

There’s a flutter of hope in Bruce’s chest, and he works to keep the surprise off his face. It certainly doesn’t sound as if their relationship has been rekindled. “I see,” he says.

Hal shoots him a sly look. “And just so you know, she’s planning to sue the hell out of NeoJet. Might be useful information to someone looking to purchase the company.”

“Considering the harm done to a senior pilot, I would expect nothing less.”

“And because I know it’ll piss you off if I don’t tell you, I took the flight knowing that NeoJet’s in-house test pilot had been injured the week before, on a different aircraft,” Hal says, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he’s facing Bruce directly. “That one was a landing gear malfunction.”

It had made him angry, when he’d found out last night, idly researching the company while Hal lay recovering in the medbay. Years of raising vigilante children had taught him that no matter how many times he attempted to exert control, it wouldn’t stop someone from doing something reckless if they had their mind set on it.

Knowing this didn’t always stop him from trying.

Instead of holding on his anger and confronting Hal when he’d woken up, he had broken a keyboard instead. They always kept plenty of extras around.

And the fact was, it was a useless argument to have anyway, because he’d never be able to talk Hal out of taking risks, especially those involved with flying. Taking risks was essentially Hal’s entire personality.

It was essentially his, too, but Bruce liked to think the risks he took were far more calculated.

Hal is clearly not expecting the long silence, and waits Bruce out for a few minutes before continuing. “Honestly, I’m glad it was me in that cockpit. Someone else might not have been able to land it or eject. So, even though my decision to take it on means I’m grounded for a while, I’m glad I did it.”

The irritating part is that he’s right. Hal is an exceptional pilot, someone truly made to fly, and that talent combined with the power of the green lantern ring was likely what allowed him to make it back to the runway.

Bruce idly rubs at the center of his forehead, where a headache is starting. “Agreed,” he says, even though it hurts.

“Besides, we’ll go through all of NeoJet’s prototypes with a fine-tooth comb. Make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else,” Hal says firmly.

Bruce nods, a little surprised at the easy way Hal includes him. “Of course,” he says, and Hal gives him a breathtaking grin in response.

He’s in trouble.

When Hal’s been staying at the manor for nearly a week, Bruce drives him to his apartment to pick up a few things. Hal doesn’t exactly ask him to, but it’s clear that he’s tired of wearing other people’s clothes.

Hal dozes most of the way there, only waking when they’re a few blocks away.

He helps Hal clean out the spoiled food in the fridge—there’s not much left, and he makes a mental note to have it restocked before Hal returns. Then he waits patiently in the living room while Hal packs a small bag in the bedroom.

Hal’s awake for the drive back, and is slowly, carefully working on stretching the muscles in his neck. He alternates between looking out the window, and gradually turning his head toward Bruce. The deliberateness of the gesture makes the skin of his cheek and neck tingle, almost like being touched, even though Hal probably isn’t looking at him at all.

Certainly not the way he’d like Hal to look at him, anyway.

“Do I actually need to go to that follow-up appointment next week? Can’t you or Alfred take my stitches out?” Hal asks as he turns again toward Bruce.

“We can. But you need imaging done of your neck, to make sure the artery is healing properly, and there’s no aneurysm forming.”

Hal automatically reaches up to touch his neck. “Sounds like something important to know before I get back in a plane.”

“Extremely important,” Bruce says firmly.

Hal sits with that for a while, looking away and then back again in silence, until he says suddenly, “Hey, what’s the deal with Clark? He was giving me some weird looks yesterday.”

Bruce had invited everyone over to see Hal for themselves, because the endless texts for status updates had gotten tiresome. They’d all had dinner and drinks at the manor—the justice league would take any excuse for a party—and everyone seemed to want to get their hands on Hal. That had gotten tiresome, too.

And he’d caught Clark looking rather intently at Hal for most of the night, but he’d hoped Hal hadn’t noticed.

“I’m sure he’s just worried about you,” Bruce says mildly. “It’s unusual for one of us to be injured as a civilian.”

“I guess,” Hal says. “But he also pulled me aside and gave me a very passionate speech about taking chances, and appreciating a rare opportunity. I have no idea what that was about. Do you?”

When Bruce glances over, he finds Hal’s eyes sharply on his own, and he winces inwardly. There’s a running joke between himself and Clark that neither one of them is particularly subtle, but Bruce regularly argues that Clark is worse. This is a case in point.

He’s been handling his attraction to Hal just fine for a while now, and he doesn’t need Clark meddling.

“Clark gets strange ideas in his head sometimes,” he says, shrugging. “It’s best to ignore him.”

“You know you can’t ignore things forever, right? That doesn’t actually solve anything,” Hal says, and when Bruce takes another glance, he looks nothing but amused.

Bruce keeps tending to Hal’s wound twice a day, every day. Hal even seeks him out for it, sometimes waiting in the cave until Bruce is finished working, or laying sprawled on the couch next to him while Bruce answers emails. Much of the time, Hal sits backward in a chair while Bruce cleans and rebandages him, but the times when he’s tired he sits propped up in bed, so he can easily go sleep when Bruce is finished.

The inflammation and bruising have both receded, and the wound edges are healing well. Bruce is pleased with the progress, and starts leaving it uncovered for several hours a day, even though Hal can’t resist lightly touching the line of sutures from time to time.

And as Hal continues to stretch his injured neck muscles, it becomes obvious when Hal is looking at him. He’ll be bent close, carefully cleaning the skin between the stitches, when he’ll see the slight tilt of Hal’s jaw, the small shift beneath hands as Hal turns toward him, just a little.

In the beginning, it’s only for a few seconds before he’s looking away again, and Bruce would almost think he’s imagining it. But every time it happens, Hal’s gaze seems to linger a little longer. At first, he thinks maybe Hal has something he wants to say, or a question he wants to ask. But he just stays silent.

Bruce cleans, applies ointment and replaces the bandage, quietly narrating his actions as he does, and for nearly the entire time, Hal just…looks at him. Is it judgement? Curiosity? Annoyance?

There’s only so long he can go without finding out the answer.

He gathers his supplies and finds Hal propped against the headboard, though he doesn’t seem tired. His head is tilted up toward the ceiling, like he’s fascinated by the crown molding, as Bruce pulls a chair up and starts to work.

It’s not long before there’s the telltale flex of muscle in Hal’s neck as his head turns. He can almost feel Hal’s gaze like a weight, but he keeps steadily cleaning. It’s not until he’s smoothing tape around the bandage that he says mildly, “Something wrong with my face?”

“No, absolutely nothing wrong with your face,” Hal says, hastily kicking the blankets off his feet and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His knees brush against Bruce’s, and he sways forward, his hand landing on Bruce’s thigh to steady himself.

In the late afternoon light, Hal’s eyes are a warm golden-brown, seeming almost to be lit from within. There is a lock of shining hair that’s fallen across his forehead, and a hint of a smile on his lips. He is almost painfully beautiful, and Bruce can’t look away.

Hal sways even closer then, says, “Can I kiss you?”

And something in Bruce’s face must say yes, even if he can’t muster up the word, because Hal is leaning in and kissing him then. The kiss is sweet, simply wonderful, as is the way Hal’s hand gently cradles his jaw, thumb stroking across his cheek.

“Do you want to go on a date?” he asks when Hal pulls away, so flustered that he’s only able to speak on autopilot. His lips are still tingling.

“I hope by ‘date’ you mean ‘have dinner in the dining room,’ because I don’t think I’m up for much else,” Hal says, amused.

“Sure,” he manages to get out before Hal is kissing him again.

“I’m sure your first dates usually end more excitingly than this one, but I have to admit I’m pretty satisfied,” Hal says.

“I think it’s ending perfectly,” Bruce rumbles out, and there’s something strange in his voice, a warmth Hal hasn’t heard before.

After dinner and dessert and a few lingering touches, Hal had convinced Bruce to get into his bed. When Bruce had laid there on his back, looking up at him questioningly, for just a moment Hal had strongly wished they could do something that involved some exertion. Instead, he’d curled up against Bruce’s side, head pillowed on his chest.

In the few times he’d had a moment of weakness and actually imagined what it’d be like to be in a relationship with Bruce, he always figured it wouldn’t work, because Bruce always seemed so distant and withdrawn. Untouchable. Hal knew himself well enough to know that he needed a lot of physical affection in relationships, and since it was clear that was off the table, had tried to ignore his attraction.

But his stay at the manor had certainly put things in perspective.

“You know, for someone that looks like he could bench-press a truck, you’re surprisingly comfortable,” he says, nuzzling a little closer.

“Muscle is soft when it’s not being used,” Bruce says, tucking the blankets around them.

Hal would like to bask in the contentment of finally being comfortable and warm, but there are more important matters at hand. “I just want you to know, for the record, that I knew exactly what Clark was trying to do. He’s not subtle at all, but he is a good friend. He kept trying to tell me how great you were without actually, you know, telling me,” Hal says, laughing. “And I realized I would have to be the one to make a move, because you were never going to do it.”

“I was,” Bruce starts, but Hal interrupts him.

“I gave you so many opportunities, spent so much time waiting for you to realize how kissable I looked, but clearly you can’t take a hint. Some detective you are,” Hal says, and Bruce laughs. Even though it jostles his head, it’s lovely to hear.

“It’s easier to interpret a person’s actions when you can view them objectively,” Bruce says. “And I couldn’t do that with you. I couldn’t be sure what I thought I was observing wasn’t just wishful thinking. It seemed wiser to bide my time and continue to gather information.”

“What, forever?”

“I was going to wait until you’d recovered,” Bruce protests.

“Sure you were,” Hal says, lightly patting Bruce’s chest. He leaves his hand there, because it’s nice. “Luckily, I cracked the case.”

“Using those extremely subtle clues,” Bruce says. “Do me a favor, and never let Clark know it actually worked.”

“I can’t make any promises,” Hal says, amused.

He’d like to keep teasing Bruce, but despite his best efforts his eyes are getting harder to keep open. “I’m going to fall asleep on you,” he says against Bruce’s chest.

“I don’t mind,” Bruce says quietly.

“You know, if this thing works out between us, I’ll probably fall asleep on you a lot,” Hal ventures.

Bruce’s hand moves then, and begins to stroke soothingly through Hal’s hair. “Even better,” he says, and Hal can hear the smile in his voice.

***

#batlantern #my fic #here have 10k of pining

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

Hope on Board

Chapter 17 - Flowers Break Like Promises

Chapter 1 Chapter 16

“What about Oliver?” Marinette suggested, looking up at him from her very cozy looking spot on the couch, surrounded by pillows and under a soft blanket. Kismet was curled up on her lap purring away happily.

Dick scrunched up his nose considering just how brutal his murder at Bruce’s hands would be if he named his son after Oliver. Probably wouldn’t be a murder, but Bruce would find other ways to punish him. He was positive there were pictures he could show Marinette that Dick would never recover from. “No, not Oliver.”

Marinette shrugged and clicked a few more links on her laptop. “Arthur?” she offered instead.

Dick blinked a few times. Was she trolling him? Was this her way of letting him know she knew about Nightwing and about the Justice League? Any second now she was going to offer Barry or Diana. He studied her closely. She was completely relaxed, or at least as much as she could with her growing belly. She looked up to him with innocent, guileless eyes. He smiled at her. “No. How about Thomas John for the boy and Mary Sabine for the girl?” Dick offered instead, taking a seat next to her and scratching Kismet’s head. Marinette wrinkled her nose at it. Dick chuckled. “Both our parents’ names included.”

“But what if we have more kids? We’ve used up all the grandparent names in one go. What do we do for the next one? They don’t get a significant name?”

Dick grinned and gave her a suggestive look. “Already thinking about more?”

Marinette rolled her eyes but leaned back to lay against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I thought it might be an option. I always wanted more than two.”

Dick kissed her head. “Yeah, me too. I thought three was a good number. Maybe four.”

Marinette hummed in agreement and turned her head to nuzzle it into his jaw. “Three or four sounds good to me.”

Dick squeezed her and looked back to the baby name website on her laptop. “Okay, so which names do we use for these two?”

“I don’t think I want to name my daughter Mary. No offense to your mother but it’s a bit too close to my name? It feels wrong and confusing.” She added apologetically.

Dick nodded in agreement. She was right, that would get confusing, especially since he liked calling her Mari. “How about middle names are grandparent names. First names are names we like for different reasons,” he offered instead.

Marinette smiled up at him. “I like that. Now we just need to figure out the first names.” She quirked her lips to the side. “What if you choose the boy’s first name and the girl’s middle name and I choose the girl’s first name and the boy’s middle name?”

Dick nodded and started thinking of names. The girl was easy. Mary would be a good middle name and wouldn’t get confused with Marinette. Then again there was always his Mother’s middle name… But his son’s name was more difficult. What would he want to call his son if he didn’t name him after his Dad or Bruce? What were the important names to him? He couldn’t use his brothers’ names. He couldn’t use one of the other heroes’ names, he’d never live it down. So, what other names were important to him? Zitka? Cute, but hard pass. Haley? No, he couldn’t do that. Robin? He wasn’t going to put that out there so clearly. But then again…

Marinette knew the boy’s middle name. Thomas was her father’s name and Bruce’s father’s name. It was the clear choice. As much as she liked the idea of having a son named Tommy, it would have to be a middle name. The girl’s name was more difficult because it was whatever name she liked. So, what name did she like? She couldn’t use a friend’s name and they already agreed not to use family names. So it was a matter of what names she liked. She knew what her father and Adrien would suggest, some pun. Adrien would probably suggest Catherine so he could call her Kitty. Pass. She could go with something significant to her like Coco or Vivienne or Vera or Carolina or Guo. She loved flowers, she could go with Iris or Heather or Daisy. Rose was out due to the friend rule. But up until now, the most significant thing in her life had been being Ladybug, but she couldn’t name her daughter Tikki or Lucky. But then again…

“I know what I want to do,” they both said at the same time and laughed.

“Well that was fast,” Dick observed with a smile.

“And for you,” Marinette agreed. “Okay, let’s do the girl first. I like the name Lucy.”

Dick repeated the name as if practicing how it sounded. “Lucy. I like that. Lucy Marie. French version of Mary.”

Marinette nodded. “Lucy Marie Grayson.” She turned to him with a smile. “I love it.”

Dick nodded in agreement. “I do too. Now the boy. I like the name Robert. Rob for short.”

Marinette repeated it. “Robert. Rob. Robert Thomas Grayson. That’s a good name.”

Dick hugged her excitedly. “They both are. I love the names. And people said this would be hard. They clearly don’t know what a good team we make.” He gave her a quick kiss that turned into a longer kiss, which turned into an even longer kiss. He pulled her into his lap to get her closer. She started to pull off his shirt when his phone rang. “I hate my phone,” he grumbled. Marinette giggled and nodded in agreement. “What?” he asked in an annoyed tone that he knew the person on the other side didn’t deserve. “That is promising. Okay, I’ll take a look tomorrow.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him as he hung up. “Tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Tomorrow.”

“Will you make the appointment at 3?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’m really looking forward to it,” he assured her. “I promise I won’t miss this one. Now where were we?” he asked as he took off his shirt.

<><><><><>

He was late. He had tried to get out as quickly as possible, but he couldn’t. There was always something more to investigate or to find. Then he had to coordinate their next move, so he had to call into the other Titans to figure out logistics. There was never a good time to get away. And he had rushed out so quickly he hadn’t grabbed his phone. So here he was rushing to the hospital to try to maybe catch the tail end of Marinette’s ultrasound appointment and unable to let her know or check if she was still there.

He waited impatiently behind another woman as the secretary got her checked in and her insurance information. His foot was tapping a beat at a speed that would impress Wally. Finally, the woman stepped away to fill out her forms and Dick rushed up to the counter. “Hi, I’m here for Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s appointment.”

The secretary raised an eyebrow. “You must be the boyfriend,” the tone he used to say ‘boyfriend’ indicated to Dick just how badly he had screwed up. Dick cringed at the thought. “Her appointment got over about twenty minutes ago. She already left.”

“Fuck,” Dick grumbled and dropped his head hard on the counter.

The secretary clicked a few buttons on his computer and wrote down an address on a piece of paper. He slid it across to Dick. “Good florist. Really nice flowers and chocolates.”

Dick sighed and took the paper. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

The secretary shook his head. “Nothing to apologize to me for.”

Dick nodded in understanding. He couldn’t keep this up. He knew he couldn’t. Something had to give. Marinette wasn’t going to keep forgiving him. At some point she was going to reach her limit and snap at him. And he would deserve it. He wasn’t being fair to her and he knew that. He wasn’t making the appointments he said he would make. He was leaving at the drop of a hat with little explanation.

The only explanation he had offered was a lie. He could alleviate a lot of this by just telling her the truth, telling her who he was, but he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to drag her into this mess, especially with the Court as active as it was. He didn’t want her worrying unnecessarily or worse yet, getting involved. He wanted her and the babies as far away as possible from all of this. The less they knew the better for them.

Dick stopped by the florist and a jeweler and their favorite take out place, making him even later getting home. When he finally did, he heard the sound of laughter in the apartment. He pushed his way in to find Marinette sitting on the couch with Jason.

“Hey, Dickhead. Only,” he pretended to check his non-existent watch, “what? like three hours late.” He gave Dick a pointed look.

“Yeah, I know. What are you doing here?”

“You forgot this. Roy thought you might want it back,” he said waving Dick’s phone in his hand. “Couldn’t call you to let you know so he called me. Thought I’d let Pixie Pop know and keep her company until you decided to show up again, hear about the ultrasound.”

“Thank you, Jason,” Dick growled. He knew he screwed up. He really, really didn’t need Jason reminding him or getting in his way of apologizing to Marinette, like he knew he needed to. “I’m here now.”

“Again, only a little late. Mari and I were thinking about watching a movie. Want to join us?” Jason offered with a snark in his voice.

“Jason…” Dick hissed.

“Jason,” Marinette gave him an exasperated look.

“Fine, whatever. I’ll go. Nice talking to you Pixie Pop. You need anything, let me know.” He glared at Dick on his way out the door.

Dick sighed and looked down before looking back up at Marinette with the most contrite expression she had ever seen. “I am so sorry, Marinette.”

“Dick, this is the fourth time you’ve missed or been late for an appointment,” she answered quietly.

“I know,” he looked back to the floor, unable to match her sad gaze.

“If you can’t make them, that’s fine, Dick. Most partners don’t. But you keep telling me you can make it then don’t, with no warning.”

“I know,” he repeated, still looking to the floor.

“I asked them to wait for you because I was sure you were going to be there. You said you wouldn’t miss this one. I thought you would just be late again. You promised.”

“I know I did. I’m so sorry. I really tried. I couldn’t get away. I didn’t want to let you down and I didn’t want to miss seeing my babies.”

Marinette watched him as he spoke. His entire body spoke to his remorse, but then again it always did. He was always sorry when he missed an appointment or a date, when he was late, but then he always did it again. She sighed and looked down. She didn’t know what to make of it or how to respond. She was starting to feel unimportant to him.

“I got these for you. I know they don’t make up for missing yet another appointment after I promised not to, but I thought they might make you happier.” He held out the flowers for her.

She took them with a mirthless smile. “Thanks.”

“And I thought you might be hungry so I got us dinner. I would have asked what you were in the mood for but,” he motioned toward his phone on the coffee table. He set the bags on the counter.

“Thanks,” she repeated.

Dick let out a frustrated breath. He knew he screwed up and didn’t know how to fix it. The problem was what he already did and he couldn’t change that. “Marinette, I’m so sorry. I know I screwed up. I know that. I’m going to do everything I can to not repeat it. I swear to you. I don’t want to miss any of this. I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want you to think you can’t trust me. I’m going to get a calendar and put it right on the refrigerator so I can’t possibly miss it and put every appointment and date on there.” He took her hands in his and stared in her eyes, “I bought this on my way home to show you how much you mean to me. How sorry I am.” He pulled a box out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Marinette gave him an uncertain look but took the box. She opened it with a gasp. She took the necklace out of the box to examine it. “Dick it’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you and not enough, I know, but I thought it would look good on you.”

Marinette shook her head and put the necklace back in the box. “Dick, I don’t need flowers and jewelry. I need you. I need to know you’re in this with me, that I matter or lacking that, that at least the babies matter. I need you to be there when you say you will.”

Dick’s eyes widened at her words. His heart clenched. She could not possibly think he wasn’t completely committed to this, to them. “Mari, do you… Mari, you and the twins are the most important things in the world to me.” He stared at her with an intensity that made her believe him, or at least believe that he believed his words. “You, this family we are creating, is the most important thing to me. I’ll do anything I have to in order to protect you three.”

Marinette immediately froze and stared at Dick wide eyed. Her breathing picked up. She hated those words. She hated what they excused. “Dick, what are you protecting us from? What are you doing? Is there something I need to know?”

“No,” he answered quickly, a little too quickly to be true. His voice taking on a soothing tone. “I just meant you are important to me, the most important thing.” He pulled her into a tight hug. “Please never doubt that.”

Marinette nodded into his chest. “Okay. I believe you.”

She didn’t sound entirely sure of her answer, but Dick wasn’t going to question it, he was just going to give her every reason possible to mean it. “Can you tell me what I missed while I was being an asshole?”

Marinette giggled lightly, still strained but at least it was a move in the right direction, and grabbed two plates. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Note: For those who don’t follow DC, the teams would frequently call the Robins, including Dick, ‘Rob’ for short.

Chapter 18

Tags:

@dickinette-february @demonicbusiness @ichigorose @iloontjeboontje @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @golden-promises @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @laurcad123 @lady-bee-fechin

#maribat #dickinette #Dickinette February #platonic jasonette #platonic adrienette #Hope on Board #Knocked Up AU #prompt - flowers

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flaminpumpkin · 4 years ago

Text

Happy birthday, Jordan

It wasn’t even 4am when Hal woke up to the gentle green glow of his ring announcing a new message from the Corps. They really couldn’t leave him alone, even on his birthday now, could they?

He had half a mind to pretend not to notice and go back to sleep. His last mission had been short but exhausting, leaving him completely drained. His dark circles had dark circles at this point, even though he had slept basically all day the day before, waking up only to go to the bathroom and eat half an apple and a toast.

Unfortunately for him – and fortunately for the Corps – Hal Jordan was a devoted man and an Honor Lantern so he kind of had to.

With a loud groan, he straightened a bit so he could prop his chin in his hand, not moving from his position on the bed where he was sprawled on his stomach, pillow still half under him. He had been Earth-side for barely two days, if they were expecting from him to look decent, they could fuck right off.

But when he ordered his ring to open the message, he was greeted by a short and simple: Happy birthday, Hal! Just this. It made him smile (and also breathe a bit more easily, he really didn’t want to go back to space this quickly.)

Then his ring pinged again and there was a little hologram of his fellow Green Lanterns. He could see Kilowog and Tomar, Jess and Simon. John and Kyle, the younger man grinning like a five year old as he held a notepad with a caricature of Hal drawn on it and come on Kyle, my head is not that big. There was also Guy. Who was… Hal sighed, shaking his head. Guy was harboring a shit eating grin while flipping him off. Typical.

Before going back to sleep, he sent back a simple thank you note to all of them and then, for good measure, he sent another one to Guy with a hologram of himself flipping the bird.

He swore he could hear him laugh all the way to earth. That asshole.

* * *

The second time he woke up, around three o’clock in the afternoon, Hal felt a lot less like a zombie. He probably still had a few hours of sleep to catch up on but it was nothing he couldn’t survive without. He had to be up in a couple of hours for monitor duty anyway, so might as well wake up a bit earlier and enjoy some peace before going back to work.

There was a little cardboard box on his kitchen counter when he emerged from the shower, with a fancy little ribbon and a card. He didn’t even need to open the card to know who it was.

Firstly, because Carol was the only one, with Barry, who had a spare key to his apartment in case he had an emergency call from the Corps and, secondly, because it just had her name written all over it. He recognized the design on the box being from that fancy French bakery close to her apartment and knew that when he would open it, he’d find a generous slice of their famous lemon meringue pie.

He ate it in silence with some coffee, responding to the different birthday wishes he had received. Some were from Tom and a bunch of coworkers. There were also several audio messages from his nephew and niece trying to figure out how to work around the feature until their parents probably had had enough and had decided to take family photos instead. Six in total, all of them blurry. But at least Hal could somehow guess what was written on the sign his niece was holding. It made him laugh and he decided to call his brother, just to tease him.

They ended up talking for a while. It felt good, this small bit of normalcy.

* * *

Hal was on his way for the monitor room, two cups of coffee in hands, when he heard someone call his name. Ah. He had hoped no one would catch him before monitor duty. He was already on the brink of running late and god knew Batman disliked lateness. But hey, after all it was his birthday.

“Hal! Hang on!”

He turned around just when Clark arrived at his level. The other man was smiling widely at him, holding a small plate with a cupcake on it in his big hands and looking like an oversized golden retriever puppy.

“Lois made enough cupcakes for an army because she was bored at home yesterday – I’m starting to think that forced leave really wasn’t our boss’ greatest idea but anyway. She told me to bring it here for everyone,” he said before Hal could even ask anything. “There’s a whole plate in the lounge but with Barry around I thought I’d give you one for your birthday before he wolfs them down.”

He snorted at that because, honestly, that was fair. Because of his powers, Barry was basically a walking stomach and everybody knew he had a giant sweet tooth.

“Thanks, Clark.”

“You’re welcome. And happy birthday!” he said, floating away.

Hal had given up on trying to balance the plate and his two cups in his hands, using a construct instead, when Dinah pounced on him, quickly followed by Oliver and Barry. She was the first one to hug him, kissing his cheek gently.

“Happy birthday, hot stuff.”

“Thanks, Di.”

“Hal, my man! Happy birthday!” Oliver shouted before squishing Hal’s cheek between two big, callous hands, not even waiting for Dinah to be out of his arms.

In retrospect, he should have expected it – it was Oliver after all, the guy didn’t know what “inhibition” meant – but, he couldn’t stop his eyes from going wide as saucers as the blond placed a resounding kiss right on his lips.

“So? How’s that for a birthday present?” he asked, smug, earning himself an eye roll from both Barry and Dinah.

“That was my present?”

“Yes. Wonderful isn’t?”

“Truly. I’m delighted. Such a generous present.”

“I’m a generous man.”

“So charitable.”

All eyes turned on Barry.

“Was that sarcasm, Bear?”

The speedster fixed Oliver with a blank stare. He looked even more exasperated than usual, which made Hal snicker. People assumed way too often that Barry was a goody two shoes but Hal had witnessed firsthand how quick witted he really was. “A snarky little shit” Oliver had called him once. And he was right.

“Happy birthday, Harold,” Barry said after a few seconds of silent judgement, opening his arms to embrace Hal.

He returned the hug good heartedly.

“Bear, you can’t wish me happy birthday and then call me Harold. That’s not legal, buddy.”

“Just say thank you.”

Hal simply squeezed him one last time before letting him go, winking at the group as he started to walk down the corridor again.

“Gotta go. Don’t want Bats to be mad at me on my birthday.”

“Like that would bother you!”

“Well yes, actually,” he almost said but he didn’t want to spend the next thirty minutes explaining to Oliver why so he pretended he hadn’t heard.

Truth was, Hal and Bruce were friends. Good friends, even. Recently, the pilot had even caught himself hoping for them to become more than that. They still had disagreements of course, they were both stubborn but they were past that now. Most of the time, it felt more like some weird kind of aggressive flirting than a real fight.

Hal enjoyed the other man’s company, especially now that he was comfortable enough with him to talk about more personal matters, like his family and boy did Bruce had things to say about the weird little clique that was his family. The fond look on his face just made it all the more worth it.

He cherished those hours spent together on the Watchtower, sometimes wishing they could do this outside of their hero work. Maybe he could pretend to need help on the Javelin’s new update to see him. She needed one and the only other person who knew her as well as Hal did was Bruce. He could buy him dinner too.

Sounds like a plan, he thought, entering the monitor room.

Bruce was already there, of course. His cowl was pulled back like every time when they were paired up, his hair looking ridiculously good even mussed. The man was always so effortlessly pretty, it was revolting.

“You’re late, Jordan.”

He didn’t even glance in Hal’s direction but it wasn’t like he needed to check that it was him.

“Better late than never, Spooks.”

That earned him a huff and then he saw Bruce slide a cup of coffee towards him on the desk.

Oh.

“It’s probably cold now.”

Lukewarm was probably more accurate – Hal wasn’t that late. But he refrained from mentioning it to the other man, instead grabbing the two still steaming cups from his tray construct and handing his to Bruce.

“I thought about preparing some too, so lucky us, I guess.”

He smirked at the Bat, oddly proud when Bruce smiled back, even just slightly.

“Miss Lane’s?” Bruce asked, nodding in direction of his construct while taking a sip of his coffee.

Hal looked back at the still floating, green glowing tray and reached out to retrieve the plate Clark had given him.

“Yep. Wanna share? It was your birthday yesterday after all. And happy belated birthday. By the way.”

It wasn’t lost on Hal that he had completely forgotten to even text him for his birthday but, like he had said, better late than never. He knew it probably hadn’t bothered Bruce, maybe hadn’t even registered with him that Hal hadn’t said anything but it sure did bother the pilot that he had forgotten. Bruce smiled again anyway, something small and secretive. Something just for him to see. Hal could feel an unusual blush creep up his cheeks.

“No, thank you,” Bruce said, turning back towards the screens in front of them, the cup Hal had given him cradled in his gauntleted hands. “Clark actually flew all the way to Gotham yesterday to bring us some. I left it for the kids. Too sweet.”

Hal had to laugh at that.

“Says the guy who takes his coffee with a metric ass load of sugar and cream in it.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

Bruce side-eyed him, half hiding a smirk behind the rim of his cup and Hal laughed again.

They focused on the monitors after that, a companionable silence between them, and Hal regretted not sleeping those two extra hours earlier. He could feel the bone deep tiredness take over him after a mere half an hour, his body sagging in his chair and relaxing into it despite his best efforts to stay alert.

He was nodding off, barely even conscious anymore, when he felt Bruce take his cup from his lax fingers.

“Idiot,” he heard him whisper and Hal wanted to retort something but he was too far gone to even form a coherent thought at this point.

Then he felt fingers graze his forehead, brushing away wild strands of hair, followed by a pair of slightly chapped lips pressing there. He automatically leaned into the gentle touch, sighing long and deep. The lips stayed there a second longer, lingering and warming up his skin, his whole body.

Hal wanted to wake up, to say something cheeky or, even better, just kiss Bruce. Properly. On the lips. Like he had been longing to do. But all he managed was a weak little whine as he turned his head towards the other man.

“Happy birthday, Jordan,” was the last thing he heard before drifting off completely.

(A few seconds later. Training room. Watchtower.

“Hey, Ollie?”

“What is it, Barry?”

“I think I just saw Bruce kiss Hal.”

“WHAT?!”)

#happy birthday Hal!#batlantern #hal jordan #green lantern #clemwrites

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olivarryprompts · 3 years ago

Text

Fanfic Friday #1

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read/Save it on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/31733458

{training dates}

Ship: olivarry

Status: dating

Warnings: none :)

WC: 1,646

Barry’s POV

It sort of all started when I got my powers. And I ran to Oliver.

“I’ve spent my whole life searching for the impossible, never imagining that I would become the impossible.”

“So why come to me? Something tells me you didn’t just run 600 miles to say hi to a friend.” “All my life I’ve wanted to do, more. Be more. And now I am. And the first chance I get to help someone, I screw up. What if Wells is right? What if I’m not a hero? What if I am just some guy who got stuck by lighting?”

“I don’t think that bolt of lighting struck you Barry,” Oliver paused, “I think it chose you.”

“I’m just not sure I’m like you, Oliver. I don’t know if I can be some, vigilante,” I whispered, looking down.

“You can be better. You can inspire people. In a way I never could. Watching over your city like a guardian angel, making a difference. Saving people,” he smirked, “In a flash.” He walked to the edge of the building, “Take your own advice, wear a mask.” Oliver then got out his bow to zipline off the rooftop.

“Oliver, wait,” I called, thinking.

“Yeah, Barry?” he said, turning around.

“I-i can’t fight. I can’t be strong. And tough.”

“Yes, you can. Meet me at my club, Verdant, in a week. Same time.”

“Your club?”

“Yes, my club.”

And then he did his robin hood and swung away.

A lot happens in a week. Take down metas, learn to swirl my arms to make wind, realize I have a bit of a crush on Oliver Queen. Please ignore the last one.

I arrived at his club the following week at midday. During that time, I recalled that his secret lair was in the sublevel of his club.

“Hello Barry,” he greeted.

“Hi. So, um-”

“Come at me. I’m going to hit you with an arrow.” “Sure you are,” I smirked.

“Go, go.” I sped off 100 or so meters, and then ran straight at him. He fired an arrow, and it slowly made its way towards me. With a cheeky smile, I grabbed it and stopped.

“Nice try Ollie, to-OCHHCHHC. Fuck-what?”

“Awareness of your surroundings,” Oliver said, pulling the arrows out of my back.

“Ow ow it hurts.” “That was lesson one. The battlefield is just that, it’s a field. It’s not one person in one place, it's a network of people all trying to kill,” he places a finger on my chest, “You.”

I was still in pain, and not too fond of him.

“You know there are less painful ways to teach that lesson?” “You showed up, you knew what you were getting yourself into,” he stated blatantly. “Well-no. No. I didn’t really want an arrow in my back.” “Would you prefer to train on a deserted Island on the coast of the China Sea?” he said jokingly.

“No. Fine.”

He led me down to his base.

“Come ‘ere,” he said, pointing to where a punching bag was set up.

“This place gets cooler every time,” I mumbled under my breath.

“Punch,” he instructed. I started speed punching the bag, and it almost immediately broke.

“Well I’d say that was pretty good,” I said, smiling.

“Horrible. No control.” “What? I broke the bag.” “Don’t speed punch. Punch normally,” he said, replacing the bag.

I started punching as hard as I could.

“Untuck your thumb,” he commented, “You’re going to break it.”

I kept punching, taking his feedback and applying it.

“Wrist straight,” he said, taking my wrist into his hand and holding it steady.

Almost 45 minutes later, I was exhausted.

“My arms, I, I can’t feel them.” “Good, now fight me.” “Excuse me?” “Sparring, let's go. No fucking speedy shit, alright?” “Ollie, I don’t think I physically can.” “Oh yes you can.” He took my arm and dragged me onto the mat. I threw some weak punches at him, not moving. He was not holding back.

“Oliver, are you just going to continue to BEAT me up?” “When you start trying, I will stop punching.” I gritted my teeth and started throwing more meaningful punches.

“Good, come on, keep your feet right.”

I threw another punch.

“Don’t lean back, move forward.” After another 15 minutes of sparring, he called it.

“Done.”

“Is that all?” I joked.

“I mean we can do more,” he teased back.

“Nah I’m good. I feel like I should get a certificate, like, ‘congrats you completed your first Oliver Queen superhero training session.’”

“Idiot,” he smirked.

“Thanks.” “Right, I should get back to my city. Same time next week?”

“Yes.”

I reached out to hug him.

“I’m not really a hugger, Barry.” “Well, technically I could just speed and hug you, so you might as well just…”

He smiled, and we briefly hugged.

“Thanks Ollie.”

“See ya.”

Most sessions were similar to that. Well, not similar but the same vibe. He had me slap water for two hours once. He made me lift sand another time. Anyway, the training was hard and weird, but it seemed to be working. However, they started to shift. We were mainly sparring after three months, him giving me tips.

“Good sessions,” he said, chucking me a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I huffed, collapsing into a chair.

He walked over to his salmon ladder, and he pulled his shirt off. Update, the crush got much worse which could, really, only be expected.

He started to go upwards, and I did definitely stare. Him jumping down caught my attention.

“You wanna get some food?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure, yeah. Where?”

Where ended up being big belly burger, and, as the flash, I ate a shedload.

“That. Is. Disgusting,” Ollie said, smiling endearingly.

“You do you.”

“So, how’s everything in Central?”

“Yeah, it’s metahuman and that.”

“Right, descriptive.” We both chuckled.

“How’s everyone here?”

“Oh we’re hanging on as usual.” “Mine wasn’t descriptive enough,” I said, sarcastically.

“What, you want me to give a rundown of every person in my life?”

No, I want to know if you and Felicity still have this weird “in love” thing going on. “You know what, sure,” I smirked. “You are a child, Barry Allen.”

I just laughed.

We stayed a while just chatting, long after we’d finished eating. We were both red from laughter. and he was smiling brighter than I’d ever seen him.

It became a tradition of sorts. Train and go get food. He’d take me to all his favorite spots, we’d eat, and stay for hours just talking.

One day we were sparring, and I’d somehow ended up under him. He slowly leaned in, and I gave him a little nodd. The kiss lasted far too little time for my liking.

I was smirking at him, “Does someone have a little crush?”

“Shut up, I see how you look at me shirtless.” “Fair. You look very hot shirtless,” I said, “Your heart is beating fast.’ “So is yours.” He leaned in again, and this kiss lasted longer. “You wanna go for dinner?” “As in a date?” I inquired.

“As in dinner, you know. Maybe. People eat dinner.” “We’ve been dating for months now, neither of us cared to admit it,” I joked, walking towards a chair.

“No,” he said, thinking.

I shoot him a “really” look.

“Aright so yes, we have. Do you wanna get dinner?”

“Yes, Ollie, I want to get dinner.”

So from there we basically just dated. Woah revolutionary I know. Training sessions became covers for dates. Sleeping at his became a late night’s work. In the chaos of everything, we found peace in each other.

Oliver’s POV

“Can you run this through facial recognition please, Felicity?” “Yeah,” she said, tapping on her keyboard.

My phone began to ring, and I saw it was Barry.

I shot Felicity a look and headed to the backroom in the lair.

“Hey Be-” “Hello,” a voice said. I recognized it to be Cisco.

“Cisco?” “Yeah? Oliver?” “Why do you have Barry’s phone?” “Barry told me to call this number if he was ever in trouble?” I panicked, “Is, is h-he alright?” “Well, yes, no, he’s sorta-” “I’m coming now.”

“Felicity, I’m going to Central City, work stuff.” “What work exactly?” “Stuff.” “Secret girlfriend stuff?” “W-what?” “Come on, we all see you smiling at your texts, spending way too much time in Central City with'' Barry,” and the way your face lights up when you get a call.” “I-no. I don’t have a secret girlfriend.” Boyfriend, I have a secret boyfriend who happens to not be doing so well.

“Where is he? Where’s Barry?”

“Med bed, right there,” Caitlin said, “Be careful, he’s resting.” “What the hell happened to him?” I said, fuming.

“He got stabbed. Fight.” I ran over to his bed, grabbing his hand.

“Barry,” I said softly.

His eyes fluttered open softly.

“Ollie, ollie. Y-you came.”

“Of course, baby, why would I not be here?”

He just tried to move closer to me.

“Hey, hey, you stay still.”

“Cuddles? Please cuddles.”

I carefully made my way under the covers, and Barry immediately cuddled into me. He quickly fell asleep to the calming motion of my fingers running through his hair.

“When did that happen?” I heard Cisco whisper.

“Couldn’t tell you,” Caitlin said, equally baffed.

I just held on to Barry, hoping he’d get better. Hoping he’d be fine.

A few hours later his eyes fluttered open.

“Ollie?”

“I’m right here, Bear.”

“I think they know,” he said, smiling. “They might have a suspicion.” “All this started from a bit of training.” I kissed his forehead, “God, you idiot, you had me worried there.”

“You can’t get rid of me that quick.” “And I’m so glad.”

His lips met mine, and we kissed for a short moment.

“I think I love you Barry Allen.” He smiled his million dollar smile, “Oliver Queen? Love?”

“Only you.”

“I love you, too Ollie.”

Read/Save it on A03 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/31733458

#olivarry fic #olivarry #oliver queen #Barry Allen #felicity smoak #The Flash #The Arrow #arrowverse #m/m #fluff #fanfcition #dcu

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flashfuture · 4 years ago

Note

So I know that in between Barry and Oliver, Hal is the token centrist when it comes to politics. But like. Where exactly is he on the “respect the government” scale? And what’s his first instinct when it comes to injustice by authority?

Lol, so this is one of my favorite things because Hal is more in the middle but I’d say if you had to pin him way closer to Barry.

However, Barry and Ollie tend to pick fights and Hal stays the neutral party.

So Hal is not pro-military that much I know for sure. He joined the Air Force to learn how to fly and then got himself kicked out by punching one of the superior officers he hated so he could go be a test pilot.

Hal views himself as a law enforcement officer. It’s really where he and Barry bonded at first.

The Corps used to have a more park ranger/firefighter role in the Universe. More recently especially with the wars that they’ve had to fight it’s taken on a military unit sort of role. They do still perform things like planet-wide evacuations if need be.

Hal very often ignored the commands of the Guardians and in the end he, you know killed them all. But Kyle brought them back so it’s fine they got better.

Hal still isn’t big on commands from people he doesn’t respect. He’ll listen to John Stewart for example but the Guardians he doesn’t trust and will only listen if he agrees with them.

Um politically they always say Hal is more right-leaning but there isn’t that much evidence to support that. I guess in comparison to Ollie everyone is more right-leaning lol. I don’t know how much he really cares for the US government. But I think Hal at heart thinks the cops are trying to do the right thing but he’s more skeptical of them than maybe Barry would be.

Kyle did call Carol a Republican once so maybe DC just thinks Coast City, California is a more conservative place and it has conservative people idk. But Hal certainly isn’t ranting that he hates the idea of universal healthcare.

Also, I feel like Hal is the type to want to know what’s going on before he sides on injustice by authority. It comes from the Green Lanterns also taking on a diplomatic role. They’re often called to settle debates and wars on planets so if it’s not apparently obvious who he’s supposed to be punching there is a level of investigation. Hal like all Green Lanterns is often sent to observe a situation and intervene as they see fit. His judgment is universally renowned as GLs make some tough ass calls when it comes to helping people.

So Hal is a peacemaker in the sense that he’s trying to find compromise on both sides because he has protocols to follow which he’s very loyal to. He’d do whatever was best to mitigate the situation and avoid more harm from being caused.

I think if you read the JLA comics they wanna paint him as the hothead who doesn’t think but Hal deals with a lot of tricky situations. He understands the concept that hurting people, hurt people. But also if people are in danger he will leap to fight the bad guy without questions asked.

It’s very common to see a Green Lantern subdue an opponent and try and work out the issue from there. Hal is also willing to make compromises and deals if it will save the most amount of people. Such as working with the New Gods even if normally they wouldn’t.

So Ollie’s first reaction to a cop is to throw hands because is correct. Hal’s first reaction is to assume they’re just doing their jobs but question what they’re doing and if he doesn’t like it step in. Barry is just under the impression cops are doing the right thing and it’s the person giving the orders who is the bad guy (which I can go on about why that’s a weird position for Barry to have but its the one he does so)

I guess yeah Hal is a centrist in that he needs to assess a situation before he makes a judgment he doesn’t have like any super hard opinions he won’t change. He has a more universal perspective on political systems that he is in a way supposed to be neutral on.

Lol this got long but I hope that answered your question. I’ve got lots to say about this boy so I’m always happy to talk about Hal lol.

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flyingkiki · 4 years ago

Text

How to slide into DMs

Oh boy. This is the longest one-shot I have ever written. Would have wanted to break this up into chapters but eventually decided not to and just gave it my all. This is a story best consumed whole - all 85k+ characters of it.

I had the best time writing this.

~~~

Raven knew that drinking one margarita too many was a recipe for disaster. And as she would later reflect on the turn of events, Raven knew she was partly to blame for the disaster that would unfold thanks to all the alcohol. But right now, it was Karen’s birthday and it was rare for the girls to come together – unless the world was just about to explode and end. So, Karen demanded that they celebrate in style.

And drink Raven did.

So here they were, a couple of superheroines dressed in skimpy bikinis on a yacht far out from Jump City’s bay (how Jinx even got one was beyond her), drinking frozen margaritas, mojitos, and tequila shots. They looked like an image straight from every young teenage boy’s (or hot blooded adult, really) wet dream – superheroines in skimpy bikinis lounging around on the boat, draped over beanbags and recliner chairs, and sliding ice cubes between the valleys of their breasts trying to fight off the sweltering heat.

Some Ke$ha was playing in the background, thanks to Starfire – who had Jinx to thank for her latest music genre obsession.

Raven cracked an eye open as Jinx passed by her and plucked her empty margarita glass out of her hand. A frosty glass quickly slipped into her hand she eyed the frozen drink with a slight frown.

“Live a little, Raven,” Jinx winked and adjusted the straps of her strappy black bikini before plopping down into the cushions next to Karen. Her mojito dangerously sloshed around in its glass because of her jerky movements.

“Exactly,” Raven sat up and took a sip from the deliciously cold alcoholic beverage and found some relief from the sweltering heat. She wondered if it would be best to just dump the whole frozen margarita over her head. “I want to live. And not die because of liver failure,”

“Pish-posh,” Karen took a healthy swig of her margarita. “We metabolize this shit faster than we drink it. Hit me up, Jinx,”

Raven was impressed that Karen still knew what metabolize meant as she watched the curly haired woman dump half of her margarita down her bikini top. “Of course we do,” she said.

Starfire ambled back onto the deck with a pitcher of frozen margarita and mojito in both of her hands. Karen and Jinx cheered at the sight of more alcohol and Kori clumsily set out to top everyone up again. Raven eyed her drink absently wondering if Kori snuck in a shot of mustard into their drinks.

“So, Kill, Fuck, Marry,”

Raven cringed. Leave it to Jinx to come up with the crudest games. Karen howled and Kori leaned forward curiously, obviously already familiar with the game. Jinx grinned widely as she eyed the girls.

“Oliver Queen, Barry Allen, Bruce Wayne,”

Raven made a face and Karen cheered while Jinx chuckled lecherously. Kori looked as she was genuinely mulling her answers before downing her margarita and taking a generous sip out of a mustard bottle. Raven felt her stomach roll. “I shall go first!” Kori announced.

“Marry Bruce Wayne, Fuck Oliver Queen, and Kill Barry Allen,” announced Kori while filling her margarita glass to the brim.

Karen made a face. “You’d marry your future Father-in-Law?”

Kori shrugged and sipped her mustard-laced margarita. “Better than sleeping with him, right?”

“Huh, that makes sense,” Karen shrugged. “Okay. I’ll Fuck Bruce Wayne, Marry Barry, and Kill Oliver,”

Three sets of eyes curiously turned to Raven. Jinx leaned forward and grinned mischievously. “C’mon, Raven,”

Raven rolled her eyes and thought of her options. “Fine,” she huffed and downed the rest of her margarita. If they were all getting drunk, she might as well join the party. “Fuck Oliver, Marry Barry, and Kill Bruce – sorry, Star,”

Kori was now lounging on her side across some throw pillows that made her boobs stick up more. Waving her hand that she honestly did not care, Kori continued to listen in on the conversation and drank her poison of choice.

“Still not a fan of the Bat?” Karen whistled. They knew about Raven’s history and how originally Batman had been apprehensive of her and her origin.

Raven rolled her eyes and had her powers top up her margarita glass. “Oh, I’m over that,” she shrugged and leaned back in her recliner. “I don’t think I can handle Bruce’s brooding and secrecy. I got enough of that already,” Raven said. She quirked and eyebrow at Karen. “Besides, have you seen Oliver Queen?”

Karen rolled her eyes. “Have you seen Bruce Wayne?” She clumsily threw both of her hands up in the air and drew them out, dousing Jinx in some of her margarita. “Those broad shoulders!” Kori hummed loudly in agreement.

Jinx looked incredulous. “What’s wrong with all of you?” she all but gasped. “I’d Fuck Barry Allen in a heartbeat – hello, The Flash! His body vibrates!”

Raven raised of her eyebrows at the thought and they all shared a brief look. Karen leaned forward and placed her chin into her hand. “Well, Raven and I are marrying him, so he can vibrate for us all day, every day,”

Crossing her legs, Raven had to agree with that logic. She raised her glass in agreement. Kori looked thoughtful and tilted her head towards Jinx. “Perhaps I should change my answers,”

Karen laughed. “No take backs,”

“Okay, this one,” Jinx nursed her mojito. “Cyborg, Nightwing, Changeling,”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Kill Changeling, Marry Cyborg, Fuck Nightwing.” She shrugged. “Easy. Sorry, Kori, Karen,”

Karen waved her hand dismissively. “Same answer, easy.”

“Marry Nightwing,” Kori smiled at the thought but then paused as she mulled over the other two. “Perhaps Fuck Cyborg, Kill Changeling,”

Jinx looked exasperated at the girls. “Really? Have none of you seen Gar lately?”

Raven threw her a withering glare. “If you’re going to say anything about his transformations and sex will push you off this boat and drown you.”

Jinx rolled her eyes and waved her hand with her mojito glass. The mojito sloshed around and spilled over her leg. “When did Gar get an those chiseled abs?! Delicious. That’s all I’m saying.”

Raven wrinkled her nose. “Eh.”

“Oh, I know,” Kori sat up and helped herself to some more margarita from the pitcher. Karen watched in disdain as she added a splash of mustard to hers. “Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Richard Grayson,”

“Duh.” Jinx said. “Fuck Jason Todd,” she paused to take a sip from her drink. “Eh – I guess Marry Richard, and Kill Tim,”

“I’d go for Fuck Richard,” Karen turned to Kori and sent her an apologetic grin. “I’m sorry Kori, but that ass,” to which Kori gave her a drunken thumbs up sign. “Marry Jason, Kill Tim. Same logic – Marry Jason for those thighs,”

Raven was starting to feel the buzz of the margaritas on her brain. She had to agree that all the Robins were good looking. “Fuck Jason, Marry Tim,” It seemed that they owed a lot of apologies to Starfire. “Sorry Kori, Kill Richard,” Dick had gotten on her nerves lately with his complaints over their training drills. Might as well hypothetically kill him and fuck and marry his brothers so he could roll in his grave.

“You know while it's totally fun to objectify the men ones in a while and talk about who we want to sleep with, Imma go for a pee break. Hold on for one second. Keep those thoughts of Dick’s ass and Jason’s thighs on your dirty little minds, ladies,” Jinx stood up and stumbled away.

“You better not jump into the ocean and pee,” Karen called her out with an amused laugh, to which the pink head raised her hand and sent her the middle finger.

Raven rolled her eyes in exasperation. Eyeing the empty pitchers of margaritas and mojitos, she wondered if she should offer to go and make another round. Jinx had made sure to stock enough of alcohol to light a bonfire – or at the very least light the whole yacht on fire.

Realizing that Kori was rendered useless right now as she lay sprawled over the pillows and it would be rude to have the birthday girl prepare her own drinks, Raven sighed and grabbed the two empty pitchers. She was surprised how fast they went through their drinks.

“I’ll make us something more to drink since we’re drinking this like water,” Rave announced and walked towards the minibar.

Karen smiled up at Raven. “Thanks, Raven,”

Raven threw Karen a rare smile. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday. Happy Birthday, Karen,”

“I’m back, what did I miss?” Jinx appeared from below deck and she rejoined the group. Seeing how Raven was busy with their drinks, she grabbed Karen and Kori and pulled them up. “C’mon, let’s take some photos. We need to put these sexy bikinis to use,”

Kori giggled. “For the ‘graham, yes?”

“For the ‘Gram, Kori. For the ‘Gram,” Karen grinned.

Pushing them towards the boat’s railings, Jinx grinned. “You can send some photos to Dick, Kori. I’m sure he’ll appreciate them,” She wiggled her pink eyebrows. “Get the blood flowing,”

Karen rolled her eyes. “And here I was thinking you can’t get any cruder,”

Kori gamely handed Jinx her phone. “I believe Dick would like them,”

“Of course Dick would,” Jinx grinned and winked before telling Kori where to stand and how to pose.

Raven joined them with their drinks levitating behind her. Handing Karen her drink, she eyed Jinx and Kori in amusement. “Please don’t tell me we’re having a photoshoot,”

Karen tilted her head and tried to ignore Jinx’s instructions to Kori (“Those bewbs look awesome, Kori!”). She gave Raven a small laugh and took a sip of her margarita. “More like take photos for your boyfriend shoot,”

“Photos for Dick!” Kori chirped, happily slurping her mustard-laced margarita and cocking her hips to the side as she leaned against the railing.

“Photos for the dick!” Jinx grinned, throwing the two exasperated girls a dirty grin. “What? Like you never sent dirty photos to your boyfriends.”

Karen downed her drink in one go. “Not saying anything,”

Jinx stopped snapping photos of her and Kori and threw a wide grin at the retreating birthday girl, watching her get another drink. “I knew it!”

Karen returned with a particularly full margarita glass. She eyed the amused Jinx in exasperation. “I’m just saying if that’s what you and your partner do in private, that’s fine. No need to make a big deal out of it,”

Jinx waived her mojito around in agreement. “Exactly. We’re all adults here, right?” She pointedly ignored Raven’s raised eyebrow at her. “If we wanna spice up our relationships with sexy photos that get panties wet and boxers tented, then we can do so. What we do in our private lives is our business. No judgement,”

Raven made a face, looking scandalized. Leaning against the yacht’s window, she eyed the pink-head. “And then they get leaked,”

“If he leaks them, we magic their dicks into pickles,” Jinx shrugs nonchalantly.

Karen hoists herself up onto the railing, and expertly balances herself on the silver railing despite the number of margaritas she just downed. Her curly black hair whips around her as a gentle hot breeze brushes over them. “Sexy photos shouldn’t be the be all and end all of a relationship. But if you mutually want to show your junk to each other on photo and videos, there better be a lot of respect in that relationship and no pressure,” she said before taking a healthy drag from her drink.

“Like, if that’s how you want to improve your sex life, go for it,” Jinx shrugged and took Karen’s phone to take a few photos of her on the railing.

“Richard sends pics of the dick,” Kori suddenly announced, casually leaning against the railing and sipping her margarita. “They’re very exciting,”

Jinx laughed loudly, delighted at the revelation. “I bet they are,”

Raven shuddered. “Thanks for that mental image, Kori.” The idea of Richard taking photos of his crotch was not a pleasing thought. Raven downed her drink in one gulp. She was not too drunk for this.

“You’re welcome,” Kori chirped.

Jinx chuckled and stumbled past Raven. Refilling everyone’s drinks with her magic, she gabbed Raven’s phone and pulled out the camera app. “C’mon, Rae. Let’s take some photos of you,”

Raven frowned. “No,”

Completely ignoring Raven, Jinx grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the railing. She nearly knocked off Karen, who in turn drunkenly laughed and barely caught her balance. “Stand there, for the love of god, try to look sexy so we can post something on your painfully boring Instagram account,” instructed Jinx.

Raven frowned, taking offense. “My Instagram is not boring,”

Karen frowned and looked up from scrolling through her phone. “Girl, your last post was literally just a picture of a cup of tea,”

Raven glared and tried to ignore as Jinx took a couple of photos of her. Leaning against the railing, she took a long drink from her margarita glass. “I don’t see the point –”

“Point, shmoint,” Jinx waved her off. “Point is your hot. Hotter than your lousy, boring cup of tea that only got,” she looked over Karen’s shoulder and sent Raven a look of disdain. “Four likes – two of those are pity likes from Kori and Victor. Live a little, put that scandalously bikini-clad body on your Instagram because @RachelRoth needs to spice up the lives of your,” she paused again to look over Karen’s shoulder at Raven’s depressing Instagram account and her face fell a little. “24 followers. Seriously, 24, Rae?”

Crossing her arms under her breasts, Raven sent them a look of annoyance. “Who would I possibly add outside of our circle of friends?”

“I have over 600,000 followers on Instagram,” commented Kori, looking over Karen’s shoulder eyeing Raven’s social media account.

Karen grinned. “Of course you do, Hun. When you’re the fiancé of Richard Grayson, everyone wants to know what you guys are doing,”

Jinx furiously tapped on Raven’s phone. “Your online presence is depressing,” She gave her a pointed look. “You don’t even use dating apps,”

Raven looked incredulous. “Why would I use dating apps?” She downed her margarita and went for another one. “Do you have any idea what our jobs are like?”

“Girl, even your DMs are boring,” Karen looked utterly disappointed. Jinx, Kori, and Karen ignored Raven’s complaints and moved back to the lounge area, bending over Raven’s phone.

“Oh sure, go through my private messages.” Raven joined them and grabbed the pitcher of margarita. When had it become “Humiliate Raven Day” when it was actually Karen’s birthday? God, she needed more drinks

“It’s not like you’re sexting anyone,” Jinx rolled her eyes. “Have you not heard of sliding into someone’s DMs?” With the hand holding mojito glass, Jinx pointed an accusing finger at Raven. “This is why you are single.”

Raven threw her hands up in the air, sighing loudly. She staggered to her feet and grabbed both unsurprisingly empty pitchers. “You know, fine, whatever,” Raven, as she would later reflect on the turn of events, would realize this is where her mistake truly began. “Fuck it. Do whatever you want. Your yapping is annoying. I’ll go get us drinks.”

Jinx let out a little squeal and all three girls ducked over Raven’s phone. Jinx furiously typed on Raven’s phone and the three women shared a short laugh. Somewhere, in her lime margarita addled mind, Raven knew that this was a huge mistake. But she’d take care of her mistakes later, like the responsible drunk that she was.

After a few minutes of mixing drinks and making sure that she had refilled Kori’s disgusting bottle of mustard, Raven ambled back with the ice cold pitches and mustard bottle, and deposited everything on the glass table in the middle. Draping herself over a few lounge pillows, she eyed the amused ladies in front of her in disdain. “Give me back my phone,”

Jinx offered her a lecherous grin and tossed Raven her phone back. Thanks to her drunk reflexes, it slipped out of her hand and landed on her breasts before falling into her lap. “You’ll have to thank us,”

Raven grabbed her phone and quickly looked through her apps. “You better not have signed me up on Tinder,”

Her phone pinged a couple of times and Raven eyed her phone apprehensively. “What did you do?”

Jinx waived her hand as Kori and Karen giggled. “Nothing to get your panties bunched up,”

Her phone’s notifications went off a couple more times and Raven frowned. Ignoring the girls as they made plans to take a quick swim – which was also a recipe for disaster considering how drunk they were - Raven focused on her phone and the notifications that kept on popping up.

Frowning, Raven opened up her Instagram and eyed the notification for new messages. Feeling a headache coming along – and not because of the margaritas she had downed – she opened up her DMs and her frown deepened.

“Why hello there,” @ImAliveJTodd sent her a reply. Raven warily eyed the wink, volcano, eggplant, and water droplets emojis.

She was torn between crushing her phone in her hand or screaming bloody murder at Jinx. “Fuck you, Jinx,” she said loudly, which she assumed the pink haired woman in question heard when Raven heard a faint cackle in the distance and a loud splash.

Jinx sent a photo of Raven in her black skimpy bikini to Jason Todd and what she could only guess a couple of other people in her friends list. Raven felt her head throb as she eyed the photo Jinx took of her. She wasn’t looking directly at the camera, probably at Karen, holding her margarita glass with her right hand and her hips leaning against the boat’s railings. The blue ocean behind her was a beautiful backdrop and somehow seemed to highlight her pale skin and bounce around her full curves. Raven wasn’t ashamed of her body, and she had to admit that it was a really nice picture, but she was not thrilled to have her photo so widely circulated. An innocent “Hey there” with a wink emoji accompanied the picture.

Growling as Jason sent her a string of emojis with some more volcano and eggplant emojis, she promptly sent him a message to fuck off and quickly deleted the conversation.

“Fucking Jinx,” mumbled Raven as she ignored the latest emojis Jason sent her. An eggplant and peach. And promptly blocked him.

Ignoring @GarTheBeast’s “Dude!” (with a fire emoji) and @VStone’s “Put some clothes on!”, Raven promptly replied to @RoyHarper’s GIF of a cartoon wolf whistling with a GIF of cartoon monster biting a man’s head off. Jinx had sent the photo to Garth, who had yet to reply. @WallyW sent her a couple of fire emojis, which she basically just ignored.

She event sent one to @BruceWayne. Fucking Bruce Wayne. Thankfully, he had not yet seen the message and Raven hastily deleted the picture. She was going to kill Jinx.

@ClarkKent had seen the image. Totally mortified, Raven quickly sent a brief apology and explanation to Superman.

“How many margaritas did you have?” @RGrayson sent her a reply.

Raven rolled her eyes. “Just enough for me to murder Jinx in a drunken haze.”

“Make sure to dump the body further out at sea since you’re already out there. Good luck.” @RGrayson sent her a thumbs up emoji. After a few minutes he quickly sent a follow up message. “Though, seriously. Don’t.”

Sighing loudly, Raven eyed her phone in disdain. Sliding into someone’s DM’s was too much work. She decided to block Speedy after he sent he a string of annoying GIFs. Eyeing her notifications, Raven discovered that Jinx had also posted her photo on her Instagram account. Her bikini-clad body stood out from all her admittedly boring content of coffee mugs and books.

As Raven’s phone vibrated ones more, she was just about ready to throw it into the ocean and hopefully hit Jinx over the head with it.

“Uhm, hi?” @TimDrake replied.

Raven groaned. Did Jinx send her picture to all the Bat Family members? Ready to just give Tim a piece of her mind, Raven furiously began to type a long essay that basically told him to piss off.

“Did somebody hack into Rachel’s account?” @TimDrake sent another message. At least Tim was smart enough to use her alias.

Raven paused and blinked, her finger hovering over the send button. Deleting her intended reply, she quickly sent her answer. “Hi. This is Raven. Jinx hijacked my phone. There might be murder later.”

“Oh. Well, good luck with that.” Tim replied.

“Hah.” Raven leaned back into the plush recliner. She stared at the screen as Tim seemed to work on an answer.

“Hide the evidence.”

“We never had this conversation.” Raven replied.

“Right. Never.” Emoji with lips zipped shut.

Raven felt her lips curl just a little bit as relief swept over her. Finally, someone sensible in this shitstorm. “Thanks.”

Raven dropped her phone onto her lap and took a hearty swig from her margarita. She was already drunk anyway – what was the point of slowing down now. In the distance she heard loud splashing and giggles from Kori and curses from Jinx. Raven silently hoped Kori somehow managed to drown Jinx. Eyeing the ocean from her spot under the shade, Raven decided not to join them.

Feeling herself relax just a little bit as the yacht rocked with the waves and the sounds of the ocean gently wrapped around her, Raven leaned back into the ridiculously comfortable recliner chair. Hearing the shrieks of laughter from her friends in the background, Raven bristled slightly at how Jinx thought she was boring. She ignored her phone as it vibrated against her sweaty thigh. So what if she liked posting tea cups and books on her social media feed. Her margarita filled brain told her she could do exciting.

Picking up her phone, she ignored Jason’s text message (“Did you block me? Lol. Unblock me, Rae!”) and looked surprised as she got another message from Tim.

Opening up her DMs, she felt her lips curl lightly as she stared down at the image of a huge swimming pool surrounded by a lush garden she guessed found at the Wayne manor. “Not as amazing as the view you have there, but this ought to do.” The text below the picture read.

Taping her finger thoughtfully against her phone, Raven contemplated if she should send Tim a reply. Deciding that she really shouldn’t think too much about it, Raven took a photo of the lounge area in front of her, catching the nose of the yacht, the pitchers of drinks, colorful lounge chairs and pillows, and her right ankle and newly pedicured toes into the frame.

“That’s a lot of drinks!” replied Tim.

“It’s Karen’s birthday. Jinx has been plying us with alcohol.”

“Sounds like fun,” Raven snored at the GIF of drunk girls.

“Until one drunk girl drowns.” Raven replied. “May or may not be Jinx.”

Tim sent her a photo of a cold beer bottle he held up in front of the camera. “We live for danger. Cheers!”

Taking a photo of her own margarita glass, Raven sent it to Tim. “Cheers.”

She had met Tim a several times and among all the Robins she had met, he was perhaps the one of the most pleasant Robins to talk to. Except of course for Richard, with whom she still shared a special bond with. Jason was an explosion of emotions, and Damian still had so much to learn (and had such intense emotions for a 10-year-old). Tim was a welcome calm presence whenever they met and she truly enjoyed talking to him.

And, while this maybe the margarita talking, she honestly enjoyed the gentle press of interest she felt from Tim over the last couple of months they met on occasion. Raven took a long swig of her margarita, downing it, and she thought of Tim. As much as Jinx would like to tease her, she wasn’t blind and stupid as much – she knew what the gentle prod of emotions meant. And she actually enjoyed it.

Raven eyed the half empty pitcher of margarita in disdain, cursing at how open she felt. Fucking alcohol.

Her phone pinged and buzzed against her leg. Placing her empty margarita glass clumsily on the side table next to her, she picked up her phone and opened her DMs. And openly stared at the image of a smiling Tim Drake in the ridiculously huge Wayne pool, head and torso wet and leaning over the pool’s ledge. His muscular arm was folded over the ledge with this chin propped over it while his other arm was stretched out to take the photo. His long hair fell into his bright blue eyes and Raven’s lips pursed as the thought of wanting to push some of his hair out of his face crossed her mind.

“Time for a swim!”

Raven contemplated over what she should reply – and if she should reply at all. She eyed the photo a bit longer than she should have, taking in whatever defined muscle she could see. It was ridiculous how all the Wayne kids looked like magazine models.

“Enjoy!” she replied. She heard the girls’ drunken laughter in the distance and wondered if she should join them.

Her phone vibrated in her hand again and she stared at the profile picture of a smiling Tim Drake in a plain polo shirt. “Won’t you go swimming?”

There was a splash in the background and a shriek. Raven wasn’t all too sure if she wanted in on the drunken swimming. “Maybe later.”

“Okay. I’ll do a few laps for now. Enjoy your day, Rae.”

Raven locked her phone and placed it on the table in front of her. She heard a couple more splashes and shrieks in the background. Eyeing her phone momentarily and her thoughts slipped to Tim Drake in the Wayne Manor Olympic-sized swimming pool. Feeling a bit warm, and Raven honestly blamed the heat, she stood up and decided to go for a swim. Perhaps that would help her cool down a bit.

“Get a lot of DMs?” Jinx grinned wildly after Raven gracefully slipped into the water joined them in the water.

Raven swam over them and sent them a withering glare. “You sent Bruce Wayne my photo!”

“I’m sure he likes younger women,” Jinx shrugged nonchalantly.

Karen laughed. “I’m sure he does.”

Raven gave them a nasty look as if they were crazy. “You’re out of your minds.”

“Well, you obviously took your sweet time, so I’m guessing you got busy sending out replies.” Jinx wiggled her eyebrows.

Kori giggled in the background. “Who did you slide into, Friend Raven?” she asked.

“Slide into his DMs, Kori! Damn it. I did not slide into anyone!” Raven sent an exasperated look at an amused Kori.

“But someone might be sliding into Raven soon,” Jinx laughed.

Raven groaned and splashed a cackling Jinx with some water. “Jinx, stop it!”

Karen swam closer and laughed, narrowly avoiding a splash from Jinx. “But seriously, girl. Don’t leave us hanging. Did anyone reply to the messages we sent out?”

“Jason sent a string of eggplant emojis, if that’s what you’re asking,” Raven looked extremely annoyed as she swam in the warm water. Jinx and Karen laughed loudly.

“Eggplant emojis? Did he send you dick pics?” Kori sent her a look of surprise.

Raven looked scandalized. “Damn it, no, Kori! I thought we updated you on pop culture already,”

Jinx sent Kori a sly look. “Eggplants are dicks. But dick pics are dick pics, which you, sexy mama, are getting a lot of,”

Kori nodded. “I am,”

“Can we not talk about Richard’s penis?” Raven deadpanned.

Karen laughed and her sparkling brown eyes focused on an annoyed Raven. “Anyone else reply?”

“Roy sent a couple of GIFs and Wally a few fire emojis,” Raven rolled her eyes. “Apparently grown men cannot use words,”

Karen chuckled. “You’re too hot, Rae.”

“And no one else replied?” Kori eyed her curiously. “Not even Bruce?”

Raven flicked water at Kori. “No, god no. Bruce did not even see it,” she paused and shrugged. “Tim replied.”

Jinx lurched forward and her wrinkly hands wrapped around Raven’s arm. “Oh, ho, ho, ho.” She gave the annoyed woman a sly grin. “Tim Drake replied?”

“He slid into you?”

“Damn it, Kori. No!”

“I bet he will” Jinx winked at Raven.

Raven pushed some of her wet hair of her face in annoyance. “There’s no sliding into anyone. We just talked, that’s it.” She paused and frowned before pressing on with her margarita addled brain. “And besides, I don’t think he’s interested in me that way,”

Karen grinned and swam a bit closer to her. “And you are?”

“Tim is nice to talk to,”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “Then keep talking to him!” The pink haired woman groaned. “Do we have to take more hot photos of you and do everything for you? I swear, I’m gonna do it,”

Raven frowned. “Just drop it,”

With the sun slowly setting and after few more rounds of teasing and gossiping, the three women decided it was time for more alcohol and some of Karen’s birthday cake before they would head back to the island. Jinx and Karen led the way back to the yacht, climbing up the boarding ladder of the yacht and disappearing out of sight. Raven helped the uncoordinated Kori climb up the ladder before climbing up herself. Hoisting herself up on the transom of the yacht, Raven turned to climb up the ladder careful not to slip and potentially kill herself by hitting her head. As she reached the top of the small ladder, she stopped and frowned as Jinx and Karen had once again accosted her phone and took some photos of her as she struggled to safely climb back on board.

“What are you doing?”

“Tim Drake sent you a photo of him in the pool. Did you see those arms? You need to send something back,” Jinx said and snapped a few more photos.

“I’m sending you back in a body bag,” Raven announced as she frowned and pulled both her legs back on board and sat on top of the ladder. “Stop it,”

“Girl, your hot. You obviously like to talk to him, and he obviously likes to talk to you. And you’ve both been sending photos to each other.” Karen waved her hands around as emphasis. “Might as well have some fun. My spidey senses are tingling, I’m sensing something good,”

Raven frowned. “You’re a bee. And the only thing that’s tingling is your head from all the alcohol,”

“Send him one of the pictures I took. A photo of you wet is gonna make him wet,” Jinx tossed Raven her phone, which she clumsily caught in between her wet hands.

Sending Jinx a nasty glare, Raven ignored the comment and sank into one of the pillows as the rest of the girls busied themselves in getting more drinks and Karen’s birthday cake. Browsing through the photos Jinx took of her, she silently wondered if she should send Tim one back. He did send her a photo of him swimming – and it would be only fair to send in a quick update of her swim as well. Right? Of course her margarita brain agreed.

Picking the one where she sat on top of the ladder with her looking at the camera with a neutral expression (all others had her frowning at Jinx) and with a full view of the ocean and the sun setting behind her, she sent the photo to Tim. “Went for a swim.”

Dropping her phone on to her lap, Raven watched as the girls returned with more drinks and a chocolate cake. Depositing everything onto the glass table, they all gathered around the table to grab more drinks and a few slices of cake.

Raven was half asleep and half listening to Jinx narrate her recent undercover mission where she had to “seduce a rich asshole” when her phone pinged and vibrated against her leg.

Picking up her phone, Raven pulled up her DMs and blinked as she stared at the little heart emoji on her photo she sent to Tim. “That’s a really beautiful view.”

Did he mean just the ocean and sunset behind her? Or was that a compliment that included her? A shiver ran down her back. Was he flirting?!

“Aww,”

Raven locked her phone and glared as Jinx leaned over her shoulder to steal a glance at Raven’s DMs. Pointing her finger at Raven with the mojito glass still in hand, the mojito sloshed angrily around the glass, Jinx wiggled her finger. “I told you, he’s into you.”

Raven dropped her phone next to her. “He’s into girls that look like drowned rats in a bikini,”

Karen rolled her eyes in exasperation and picked up Raven’s phone and tossed it back at her. “From the way you’ve been talking, it doesn’t seem like he’s just talking to because you’re in a bikini. And besides, you know Tim – he’s actually nice. You’d Marry him in our Kill, Fuck, Marry game. I don’t see where the problem is.”

Jinx shrugged and helped herself to another mojito and a cake slice. “And if he sends you photos, you have the choice to respond or not. Do whatever the two of you enjoy,” she paused and took a sip. She sent Raven a wink. “But you should send him more pictures to make him hot and bothered. Because it should be fun to make him squirm just as it should be fun for you to get your panties wet with his photos,”

Leave it to Jinx to make the crudest advice. “Whatever,” Raven mumbled and tuned out them out as they started to make plans to head back to the bay. Placing her empty margarita glass on the table in front of her, Raven turned to her phone and turned it on again. Looking at Tim’s reply, she pondered if she should take on Jinx and Karen’s advice and continue talking to Tim and if this was all worth her time and energy. In her drunk mind, Raven reasoned that she did like him, so it was well worth a shot.

“Thanks!”

Dropping her phone next to her and listening to Jinx haphazardly commandeer the yacht back to the Titan’s Bay, Raven leaned back into the soft cushions. Her phone buzzed softly against her thigh and she eyed it momentarily before picking it up again. Opening up her DMs, she decided to see where this would take her.

Raven groaned as her alarm clock blared loudly and she fought the urge to blow it up with her powers. While her demon heritage easily burned off most of the alcohol from yesterday, she still felt some of the side effects of drinking countless margarita pitchers that could easily induce alcohol poisoning to regular human beings. Slipping out of her bed, Raven made quick work in getting ready before grabbing her phone and heading into the kitchen.

“Morning,” Dick sent her an amused smile over his breakfast cereal. He grinned as Raven scowled. “Did you have a good time yesterday?”

Raven went on puttering around the kitchen, set on getting herself some toast and her herbal tea. She threw Richard a quick uninterested glance. “We had enough alcohol to drink an entire army under the table, we had cake, we were out on a boat miles away from Garfield, so yes, I had an excellent time,”

Dick chuckled. “And the DM?”

Raven rolled her eyes and sat down across of him by the counter. Looking around the kitchen briefly, she assumed everyone was still asleep. “Jinx thinks she can make me ‘slide into someone’s DMs’,” she said before sipping her tea. “I shouldn’t have allowed her to take my phone.”

“Ah, the poor choices we make because of alcohol,” Dick tutted. Placing his elbow on the table and propping his chin into his hand, he grinned at her. “So, did anyone slide into your DMs back?”

Raven frowned, not liking where this was going. “Some replied. Most were just a string of eggplant and water droplet emojis.”

“Why do I have a feeling I know who sent them?” Richard quirked an eyebrow. “Jason said that you blocked him on several platforms.”

“How do you know about that?” Raven eyed him curiously while she nibbled on her toast.

Dick held up his phone and waved at her. “We have a chat group. He’s been raving over your photo that Jinx sent out,”

She snorted. “Of course the BatKids have a chat group.” She silently wondered if Tim mentioned anything on the chat group. Standing up, she picked up her mug and headed towards the door. “I’m going up the roof to meditate. I’ll see you at training,”

Not waiting for Dick’s reply, she walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway. She felt that most of the tower’s occupants were still asleep. Once they got home from their day on the yacht, they still had a small celebration for Karen back at the tower organized by the boyfriend, Cyborg. It lasted well into the night with more drinks and poor life choices.

Opening the roof door, Raven welcomed the gentle dawn breeze from the harbor and sat down in a lotus position by the ledge of the tower. Fishing out her phone from her jean’s pocket, she eyed her phone with mixed emotions. She and Tim continued to exchange messages and a few photos through the party.

Switching to her DM’s she was surprised to see a message from Tim so early in the morning. As she recalled yesterday’s events, and the poor drunk choices that came with it, Raven winced as she went through her exchange with Tim. She unconsciously stopped at the last two photos of the night they exchanged – a blurry picture of her in her camisole buried in her pillows looking both less than glamorous and incredibly sleepy (a picture she sent as a reply to his “Aren’t you going to bed?”) to which he sent his own picture in bed, shirtless with his tousled long hair falling into his eyes, giving her an incredibly dazzling sleepy smile. “Good night.” Raven would admit that the picture of a shirtless Tim Drake jolted her awake briefly. She stared at well-defined shoulders.

While she was pretty sure that their whole exchange was innocent enough, Raven felt like it opened a floodgate of so many scenarios that she may or may not be ready for.

“Good morning!” Tim had sent her a photo message of Gotham City’s skyline as the city sprang to life with the bright orange glow creating silhouettes of skyscrapers and other buildings. Gotham, despite its dark secrets, was still a very beautiful city.

She smiled at the picture. Picking her camera option, she took a picture of the Jump City bay as the rising sun created a rainbow of colors across the sky and ocean. “Good morning.”

“Hungover?”

Raven smiled. “Metabolized almost everything. Perks of being half-demon.”

“Such perks.”

“I’m going to meditate. We have training soon.” She told him.

Her phone vibrated softly in her hand and she looked down at Tim’s reply. “Don’t beat up Dick too much.”

The corners of her lips quirked in amusement and she placed her phone next to her. Feeling warm and content, Raven slipped into a calm meditative trance. As she centered herself and felt herself calm and her emotions settle down around her, she couldn’t help but think how talking to Tim Drake wasn’t all too bad.

Raven sat on top of a modern commercial building and eyed the alley below her in complete boredom. Dick had them on stakeout for the past three hours to crackdown a human trafficking cartel in the city and so far they had not even heard a mouse breathe. Apparently one of the buildings in the district was one of the common trading grounds of the cartel but save for rats running around the alley, there was zero movement in her zone. Either someone must have tipped the cartel off or there was no activity that evening.

“Anything?” she heard Dick as through their comm device.

“No, man.” Victor replied sounding as tired and bored as her. “I think we should call it a night.”

“No action in my end,” Beast Boy said. He tried and failed to hide a yawn. “This is boring.”

“Nothing on my end too,” Kori said. “Perhaps we should move out, yes?”

“Raven?” Dick asked, ignoring the rest of the team’s silent please the abort the mission tonight.

Raven’s purple eye’s slipped down into the alley once more. She watched in disdain as a couple of dogs dove into a trashcan. “There are dogs eating trash down here,” she said.

They all heard Dick’s frustrated sigh. They had been trying to track the cartel for a few days now and it’s been grating on everyone’s nerves. Raven could feel Dick’s frustration press into her. “Fine. 30 more minutes and let’s head back to the tower. Nightwing out.”

Their comm line went dead and Raven sighed softly into the cool evening air. She eyed the alley below her, trying to catch any suspicious activities. She watched as the dogs started to tear apart the trash and drag some foodscraps through the alley.

Bored, Raven turned her attention to the bright Jump City skyline. From where she sat on top of the building, the city was alive with lights at two in the morning and the moon shone brightly above the silhouette of buildings. Taking out her phone, she took a picture and sent it to Tim. They had started a habit of taking photos of sceneries and things they found interesting – she quickly learned that Tim seemed to enjoy photography and also appreciated her pictures of tea mugs (hah, take that Jinx).

“Nice! Still on patrol?”

Briefly looking down the alley to check for any activities. “Yes. Stakeout. Nothing has been happening for the past three hours.”

“Sounds boring.”

Her phone vibrated in her hands and she looked down at the image he sent back to her. She inhaled softly as she stared down at an image of thick muscular legs tightly wrapped in black pants and heavy combats boot dangling from what could possibly be a skyscraper. Past his legs and feet, she could see the bright traffic down below. It was actually a nice aerial shot. She stared at the telltale signs of his Red Robin costume and frowned as she saw a few injuries on the side of his right thigh. Their messages were encrypted so they could send messages to each other without worrying about being compromised.

“You’re hurt,”

“We saw Bane tonight.” He replied. “This is just a scratch.”

Raven heard the loud rustle of a garbage bag being torn open. She looked down at the alley and frowned. “That’s going to get infected.”

“It’s just a scratch,” He repeated. “Unless you want to come over and heal it?”

Raven stared at his message and felt a warm tingle run down her back. He always did this, Tim Drake had been doing this for a while now since that afternoon they had started messaging each other so many weeks ago – he’d find ways to slip under her skin. It was innocent enough. But still – Raven stared at the message and felt an excited shiver run through her.

“In your dreams, Bird Boy.”

Raven loved Kori dearly. She was her sister, albeit a complete opposite from her, but still her sister. But, as she stared at her reflection in the mirror at one of Jump’s most upscale wedding dress stores, Raven wondered if it wasn’t too late to cancel her friendship with Kori. She stared at the monstrosity of her Maid of Honor dress they had her try on and Raven felt herself suffocate in the sheer amount of lace, frills, and pink.

“Let’s see!” she heard Jinx snicker outside of her dressing room.

“No,” Raven snapped and struggled to zip up the dress from behind, trying to find the tiny zipper in the sea of lace and ruffles.

“Let us see your Flornarp dress,” Kori’s excited muffled voice drifted through the doors of her dressing room. She heard the sales lady ask “The what?” to which Karen hastily replied “Maid of Honor dress. Kori’s Finnish,”

Fishing out her phone from her bag, Raven pulled up her camera app and took a photo of herself in the mirror. She sent it to Tim. “Help.”

“Is there a cotton candy monster on the loose in Jump?”

“Funny.” She replied.

“C’mon, Rae!” Jinx sounded a little drunk. Which also wasn’t that much a surprise since the shop had offered them several bottles of champagne. “For the Wayne-Anders wedding only the best,” said the store manager.

“Yes, yes, calm down,” Raven mumbled and threw open the doors of her dressing room and all but stumbled out. Hearing Karen and Jinx poor attempt of stifling their giggles, Raven frowned and grabbed her champagne glass. She took a long swig while the rest of the girls studied her in the pink lump of a dress.

Kori stared at her. “Perhaps it’s too big, yes?”

Raven sighed and tugged at the frilly neckline. “Perhaps a dress that doesn’t look like it’s eaten me alive?”

Karen snorted. “Maybe something that looks less like Silkie?”

Finishing her champagne glass, Raven placed it back on the small glass table. Offering Kori an assuring smile, sensing that her friend was growing worried over their dress choices, “I’m sure we’ll find something better, Kori,”

Looking slightly relieved, Kori smiled and nodded. “Something with less ruffles?”

“Less frills and lace too,” Raven added kindly before slipping back into the dressing room. She heard Jinx say something about finding a hotter dress that showed more bewbs.

As she struggled to get out of her dress, Raven’s phone pinged. Letting half of her dress drop around her waist, she picked up her phone from the cushioned seat and opened Tim’s message. She felt her cheeks warm significantly and her heart jump against her chest as she stared at the image of Tim Drake in an impeccable tuxedo. His hair was tousled and fell into his amused blue eyes and he grinned into the camera as he took his own picture in the full length mirror. The boys were also at their own fittings, trying out tuxedos in Gotham City. Raven took a minute to drink in his broad shoulders and how his white shirt stretched over his chest.

“That’s not fair.” Raven hastily replied in a flurry of emotions.

“Lol. Why?”

Raven felt body warm as she snuck another glance at Tim’s picture. “You look better. I look like chewed up bubble gum.”

“Oh?”

There was a pause and Raven watched as Tim started typing again, three dots dancing across the bottom of her screen. A thrill ran down her naked back. She was sure Tim was doing this on purpose.

“So I look good?”

Raven was at her favorite tea shop one rainy afternoon drinking ridiculously expensive tea from a tiny tea cup. After a morning of accompanying Kori for some more wedding preparations, Raven decided to take some time off in the afternoon and relax a bit. There was just so much excitement and stress she could take.

Taking a picture of her blue ceramic tea cup and tea pot, she absently sent the picture to Tim. She took a sip of her Belgian Mint Tea and idly looked around the empty tea shop. Kori’s wedding was a several weeks away and the stress of having to deal with Kori’s stress was, well, stressing her out. Raven relished comfort the tea and the steady beat of the rain brought her.

Her phone vibrated against the old table and she carefully placed her tea cup down into its dainty saucer. Picking up her phone, she stared at Tim’s reply in amusement.

“Fancy.”

“Just very fancy mint tea,” she replied.

Tim sent her a picture of his half-empty Batman coffee mug. “Just very plain coffee on my end.”

Leaning back in her chair, Raven crossed her legs and settled back comfortably. Her lips curled in amusement. “Nice mug though,”

“The finest Batman mug in town.” he replied. “I know a guy who knows a guy. I could get you one.” Tim sent her a bat emoji.

Raven looked out the shop’s window briefly and stared as the rain beat against the glass window of the shop. She felt herself warm at the exchange. She tapped the side of her phone with her finger thoughtfully, mulling over her reply as her heart fluttered suddenly. Looking back down at her phone, she smiled. “You know how to win a girl’s heart.”

A day later a neatly wrapped up red present waited for her on the Titan’s kitchen counter with the rest of the day’s mail.

Despite the throbbing pain her right thigh and a splitting headache, Raven sat comfortably in her bed. She leaned heavily against her dark pillows and tried to enjoy the book Victor blindly pulled out of her bookshelf to keep her in bed. Tonight’s fight with Slade ended with her getting shot in the leg and fracturing her femur. Raven argued earlier that except maybe the gunshot wound, she was generally alright. But Dick and Victor would hear nothing of it and removed her from field operations until she fully recovered.

Her phone vibrated next to her thigh and she dropped her book into her lap, careful to avoid her bandaged left thigh. Opening up her encrypted messages, she saw Tim’s latest message.

“Are you alright?!”

“Yes.” She replied and leaned back into her pillows trying to get more comfortable. Her leg throbbed in protest. Fucking Slade.

“Dick said you got hurt?”

Trust the BatFam Group Chat to spread the word. Raven rolled her eyes. She took a picture of the book in her lap and her bandaged left thigh. Not really caring how short her shorts were and how revealing the shot actually she was, Raven sent the picture to Tim. “I’m fine.”

There was a pause as Tim typed out an answer. Raven watched as the dots danced on her screen furiously. Perhaps in hindsight, as she stared at her legs and the sliver of skin between her book and shorts and the curve of her thighs against her dark sheets, sending that a revealing photo wasn’t her best idea. She wished she had a margarita to blame her poor choices on.

“Nice book.”

Raven raised an eyebrow at his answer. The book was in Latin, and while she knew that Tim was smart, she was sure he did not know Latin. The corner of her lips twitched in amusement.

“I didn’t know you knew Latin?”

“Fine. You caught me.” He sent her a blushing emoji.

“Hah.”

There was a pause and Raven thought that Tim might have ended their conversation. Not really minding the silence, Raven started to turn back to her book when her phone vibrated again. She stared at Tim’s reply.

“I was worried.”

A warmth that she definitely did not allow ran down her back. Raven felt her cheeks warm at the soft affection and she smiled. “Thanks. I’m fine.”

“Just be careful next time, okay?”

Victor had her do therapy, which in Raven’s opinion was completely unnecessary. So sure, the bullet shattered her femur (worse than the initially thought), but with a little more healing, she would be fine. Victor would not have it though and demanded that she still did therapy – which was a bitch.

“One more, you can do it,” Victor watched Raven dangle on the dip station as she finished up her vertical leg raises. “Quit complaining – you’re tougher than that,”

Raven felt her abs and thighs burn as she swung her legs up once more. Her fingers curled tightly into the handle bars as she struggled to finished the set. She hated this exercise and her legs and abs were on fire. “Fuck you,”

Victor laughed loudly and approached her. “I love you too,”

Raven hopped down from the machine carefully. She staggered a little as her legs touched the ground. Gasping to catch her breath, she glared at Victor. “This is completely – ”

“Unnecessary, I know. Humor me, will you?” Victor threw a towel in her face. “We’ll make tomorrow’s session our last. I just want to make sure there’s no muscle damage once you completely healed,”

Raven rolled her eyes in annoyance and wiped her face. “I’ll be fine,”

Victor shrugged and he briefly looked at her left thigh. Save for a shadow of a scar where the bullet had entered, there were no other signs of injury left. “Looks like you’re all good,” he smiled and looked down at her. “Just one more session tomorrow, Rae.”

“Fine,” Raven mumbled and turned on her heels sharply. She walked to the side of the gym room where she left her phone and water bottle. “After tomorrow I’m burning that machine,”

“Hey, no hating the Dip Machine,” She heard Victor tap the machine lovingly. “I’m going to make us some dinner. See you in the common room,”

Raven made a noncommittal sound and picked up her water bottle. Taking a long drink of water to cool herself down, she absently picked up her phone and checked her notifications. Ignoring some of the annoying memes and GIFs Garfield sent to their group chat, Raven pulled up Tim’s latest message.

“Still doing therapy?”

“Yeah, just finished.” She replied. “Dead tired.”

“Good job!” He sent her a thumbs up emoji. “Did a workout too.”

Raven coughed loudly as she choked on her water and allowed it to dribble down her chin and chest. Inhaling sharply, she clumsily placed the water bottle next to her on the bench and stared at the photo Tim just sent her. Looking up at her from her phone was a sweaty, grinning Tim Drake dressed in nothing but a pair of gym shorts. His disheveled hair fell into his blue eyes that practically burned into her. He took the photo in what she guessed was his gym at his apartment. She stared at his flexed bicep as he took a photo of himself in the mirror and her eyes swept over his arms and chest. She felt a shiver of excitement run down her chest and pool low in her stomach. She inhaled softly again and swallowed as her eyes followed the dips of his abs. She could see scars dance across his chest, arms, and stomach and she faintly wondered how it would feel like to –

Holy shit.

She inhaled unsteadily through her nose and frowned. “That’s not fair.” She furiously typed and sent back to him. Why did he always tease her? Her body tingled and she stole a quick glance at his photo again. Damn it.

“What is?”

He was teasing her again! Raven felt her cheeks flush and her stomach tingle in excitement. How Tim Drake managed to so easily slip under skin and stir so man emotions and flirt with her, all through her phone, was beyond her. Her emotions purred inside of her, enjoying the attention.

“Tim!”

“What!”

She felt a flurry of emotions and she body practically hummed. She could blame the margaritas of so many months ago for this. But, honestly, this was all on her. She really had no alcohol to blame, except for her emotions that were practically burning her skin. Pushing herself off the bench, she exhaled loudly and marched towards the mirrors.

Still incredibly disheveled from her therapy session, Raven took a photo of herself in her workout clothes – a pair of rather short gym shorts and a sports bra. Looking into her phone as she took a photo of herself, her lips curled just a little bit in amusement. She hit send. Her heart beat loudly against her chest as she sent her picture – two could play his game.

It took a minute – just as long as it took for her to take in Tim’s picture – before Tim replied. Raven felt a satisfied tingle run down her spine.

Heart emoji.

While Raven was busy filing that evening’s report, Tim randomly sent her a picture of Gotham City’s park. She paused in her typing and stared at the beautiful picture of Gotham City alive at night with buildings illuminated by the moon and the enchanting shadows danced across sprawling park. Despite its grit and crime, Gotham City was beautiful.

“That’s beautiful.” She replied.

“Patrol is boring tonight. Thought you might like a view of the park.”

Raven smiled at his thoughtfulness. “Thanks. We stopped a bank robbery today. I’m filing reports.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“Thrilling.” She replied. She looked at her laptop, her Batman mug filled with tea, and some of the case files on the table, nothing really was worthy of a picture. “Nothing really as beautiful as your park to take a photo of here, really.”

“You could take a picture of yourself?”

“My mother was from Gotham,” she told him one evening after he sent her another picture of Gotham City’s skyline while he was on patrol.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” she replied while sitting on top of the Titan’s tower and looking out at the bay. Something stirred in her as she waited for Tim’s reply.

“Do think you still have relatives here?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered. “I don’t know.”

“We could find out?”

We. Raven stared at the ‘we’ and felt a warmth blossom that had been brewing deeply inside of her for so long. She smiled. “I’d like that.”

“We could go to some of your mom’s favorite places,”

She heard the whisper of an unspoken promise. Raven felt her heart fluttered softly against her chest. Her hair tickled her chin as a soft warm breeze swept past her. She shivered with anticipation. “I’d like that too.”

“It’s a date then.”

“Are you busy?” Tim asked one afternoon while she was hunched over on her bed engrossed in painting her toenails. It was a secret guilty pleasure she eventually developed after one too many girl nights with Kori.

Raven dipped the little brush back into the dark blue nail polish and grabbed her phone as she waited for her toenails on her left foot to try. “I’m painting my nails.”

“Really?”

Before she could reply or send a photo as evidence, her phone rang loudly and it slipped out of her hand as it vibrated. The black phone landed on her lap and continued to incessantly vibrate against her bare leg. She looked down and watched as Tim’s name appeared on her screen – incoming video call.

They had recently started talking on the phone on a few occasions – mostly when Tim was bored and wanted to tease Raven. She’d admit that she secretly enjoyed talking to him over the phone. It brought a thrill down her spine. She wasn’t all too sure what was happening between them but she liked the feelings that blossomed within her.

Her phone buzzed angrily. Looking down at her attire, she was dressed in one of Victor’s oversized t-shirt and nothing else, and thought that it would be enough. Picking up her phone, she placed it on her nightstand next to her bed for them to see each other and answered the call.

“Yes?”

Tim’s smiling face appeared on her phone’s screen. “Hey!”

Raven blinked in surprise as she took in Tim’s rather wet hair. “Why are you so wet?”

He was clearly holding his phone with his hand as his phone shook unsteadily while Tim combed his sopping wet hair with his other hand. Shaking his head a bit to get water out of his long hair, he looked back at her. “I was riding my motorbike and it started to rain, so yeah.”

Raven shifted on her bed and hunched over her feet. She hummed softly as a promise that she was listening. She began to paint the toenails on her right foot. “Where are you?” she asked while keeping a steady eye on her foot.

“At the mall. Buying some last minute wedding stuff,” she heard his reply.

Throwing an amused look over her shoulder, she watched as Tim’s face became a little blurry as he moved through some aisle. “Doesn’t the Wayne household have a delivery service to get their shopping done or something?” she teased.

“Hah,” Tim chuckled and his grinned at her through the camera. “Funny.” He explained the last minute items Alfred had him buy.

Turning back to her right foot, Raven shifted and bent her knee, drawing her foot closer to her. Her t-shirt around her thighs fell lower into her lap and pooled around the swell of her hips. She heard Tim pause briefly in his detailed explanation of his table napkin quest and inhale softly. He coughed and she could hear the distinct quiver in his voice.

“—so, yeah. Uh, table napkins. We don’t have enough,”

Raven briefly looked down at how her shirt pooled around her hips. Smirking, she threw him an amused look. “Troubles?”

Her emotions purred softly and a thrill ran down her spine as she watched Tim briefly glance down at her legs before looking back at her. They stared at each other for a moment before Tim smiled and shook his head. “Ah, no,”

“So, table napkins?” Raven cocked her head to the side and watched as Tim continued to walk through the dark aisles. It didn’t look like he was in the dinning section of the mall.

“Yeah,” Tim said. He was busy looking at some items in the shelf in front of him. His face disappeared from the frame a couple of times as he reached and rummaged through the shelves.

“You called because of napkins? That’s what was so important?” Raven asked with a lilt in her voice.

She heard Tim chuckle as she continued to paint her toenails. “Actually, no. I wanted to ask what you’re wearing at the dinner party on Thursday?”

Raven turned back to her phone and sent him a curious look. She watched as his face was busy staring at whatever was on display in front of him. “What I’ll be wearing?”

Dick and Kori’s wedding was, finally, less than a week away. Bruce was hosting a dinner party for everyone before the wedding. It was mainly just all members of the Titans from the different teams and Justice League members and whoever else who belonged to the circle, just so everyone could celebrate without worrying about trying to hide their identities. Raven was honestly thrilled that the wedding would be over and done with soon – Kori was stressing her out.

“Yeah,” Tim chimed. “What color is your dress? Help a man out here.”

Raven furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. What was he getting on with? “What?” She cocked her head to the side as Tim busied himself with the shelf in front of him.

“What color is your dress?” he repeated.

“Dark blue,” she replied in pure confusion. “What’s the point?”

Tim made a satisfied noise in the back of his throat and his face blurred out as he reached for something in front of him. “Like this?” he showed her a rather expensive looking dark blue silk tie.

“Kind of?” Raven frowned. “Why?”

Tim sent her a soft smile and shrugged. “Thought it’d be nice to match your dress?”

“So, you’re telling us you’ve been flirting and talking and sending each other pictures, and may I just add pictures that are borderline sinful, to each other for close to four months and you’ve never met up?” Karen shot Raven an incredulous look as they drove towards the Wayne Estate in Gotham City for Dick and Kori’s pre-wedding dinner party slash ridiculous gala dinner Bruce Wayne organized. Removing her eyes from the road momentarily, Karen looked utterly disappointed at Raven. “How could you have not met up?”

Raven looked annoyed in her seat. “I don’t know. Maybe because we live in different cities, we have jobs, he practically runs Wayne Enterprises, and we’re all trying to save the world from impending doom every week?”

“Saving the world my ass.” Jinx scoffed and leaned into the space between the two front seats. As she leaned towards them, the neckline of her red dress dipped dangerously, momentarily flashing both Karen and Raven with her breasts. She shot Raven an amused look. “I’m sure in between all that, you could have still squeezed in some sex time,”

“I could squeeze your neck anytime,” Raven shot back. Her purple eyes dropped to Jinx’s cleavage in disdain. “Your tits are out.”

Jinx laughed and slumped back into the backseat of Karen’s car. Adjusting her red slinky dress around her chest, Jinx sent Raven an amused smile. “I bet you your tits are gonna be out too later tonight,”

“Why am I friends with you again?” Raven stared at Jinx darkly through the rearview mirror.

“Pretty low standards?” Karen mused loudly as they rounded the corner.

“Hey!” Jinx looked indignant. “We’re on the same team!”

“Look, you like him, and from the way he’s been flirting with you, he’s hot and heavy about you too, hold it, wait!” Karen briefly raised a perfectly manicured finger into Raven’s face as the purple haired woman was about to protest. “Don’t even deny it. Tonight you’re going to see him after all of whatever it is you two are doing over the phone,”

“It’s like you’re dry humping over the phone,” Jinx said dryly.

Trying to be the more sensible friend, Karen completely ignored Jinx and briefly cast the annoyed Raven a quick glance. “You can’t just keep on talking over the phone. What are you going to do, Rae?”

Raven frowned at them, her emotions stirring slightly. Smoothing out her dark blue dress around her legs, she frowned. “I didn’t say I’d go and avoid him, I highly doubt that would be even possible,” she said.

Karen shot her a curious look. “How are you feeling about all of this?”

“Hot and bothered?” Jinx chimed from the backseat.

Raven rolled her eyes at Jinx. Leaning back in her seat, she crossed her arms defensively under her breasts. “It’s a lot to take in,” she said. She cast Karen a quick glance, briefly admiring her in the long deep yellow dress she was wearing.

“We’re not telling you to jump him, Raven,”

“Though you totally should,” Jinx said. “Or he should jump you, whatever works your kink.”

Raven let out a long suffering sigh. “I’m going to see him and we’ll see where it goes. Maybe he just likes talking to me over the phone and things change when he sees me,”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “When he sees you in that dress, he will not take you out of his sight. I promise you that. We picked the right dress,” She sighed dramatically. “I’m so proud of you. You did well in slipping into his DMs.”

“Just have fun tonight, Rae,” Karen said, completely ignoring Jinx in the backseat.

Raven made a non-committal sound in the back of her throat. “Kind of hard to do when I’m still on Maid of Honor duty for Kori,” as if on cue, her phone vibrated in her black clutch. Fishing it out of her bag, Raven eyed Kori’s text. “She just sent me a messaging asking us to buy her a liter of mustard. Why would she want a liter of mustard?”

“Why doesn’t the Wayne household have liter of mustard? It’s a fucking manor.” Jinx gave Raven an incredulous look.

“There should be a 7/11 or a supermarket nearby. We can make a quick stop and get the bride her mustard,” Karen said while trying to spot a supermarket along the way. She shot Jinx a quick look through the rearview mirror. “Be useful. Try to find something on your phone. It’ll be faster that way,”

Raven’s phone vibrated again. Opening up her messages, Tim’s headshot smiled up at her. Ignoring the feelings that stirred in her chest, Raven opened her encrypted messages.

“Are you here yet? Where are you?”

“We’re still downtown. Kori just texted. She wants a liter of mustard.” She replied. Jinx and Karen argued in the background where to take a turn. For superheroes, it was grossly disappointing how poorly they could operate Google Maps.

“Oh, okay.” Tim replied. She watched as the dots danced across the bottom of her screen. “The party is starting.”

“We’ll be there in a bit. Trying to find mustard.”

He sent her a photo of the brightly lit ballroom (it’s ridiculous how they had a Grand Ballroom – but it’s Bruce Wayne) that’s filled with beautifully dressed superheroes dancing or feasting on the buffet tables. She could see Garfield dance with Terra in one corner of the picture. “Hurry!”

They had stopped at a gas station. Jinx and Karen had volunteered to go and get the mustard. Lifting her phone to the window, Raven took a photo of the gas station. “Mustard run. See you later.”

“I’ll save you a dance.”

The Wayne Estate was breathtakingly beautiful. Raven forgot how beautiful it was up until tonight. On the handful occasions she was here because of work, she remembered how quiet and dark the mansion was. But tonight, she could feel how the mansion was alive with emotions. Raven heard laughter and loud music drift through the halls, the sound of silverware hitting fine china tinkled softly.

They were a bit late after their Great Mustard Run of 2020. When they stepped into the foyer Alfred was ready to welcome them and take the one liter of mustard out of their hands (it painfully clashed with their dresses).

“The three of you look stunning. Thank you for the mustard,” Alfred smiled kindly at them. “I’ll take this to the kitchen. I trust that you know your way to the ballroom?”

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Alfred,” Raven smiled. She hugged the man briefly before leading Karen and Jinx towards the ballroom. She could hear Victor’s loud laughter carry through the hallways and she smiled.

“There you are!”

Victor all but barreled into them, his bright blue tuxedo stretching across his muscles as he hugged all three girls at the same time.

“Easy there, Sparky,” Karen laughed and pushed her boyfriend away from them.

“Thought I’d have to send out a search party for you three,” Victor grinned. He handed Karen his champagne glass. “BB and some of the older Titans are at the table over there,” he pointed at one of the center tables in the brightly lit ballroom.

Wrapping her arms around Victor’s left arm, Karen looked around the ballroom with bright eyes. “Wow, I didn’t realize there’d be so many people,”

“Leave it to Bruce Wayne to throw a party,” Jinx commented, stealing two champagne glasses from Alfred as he passed them with a full tray.

Taking one of the champagne glasses from Jinx, Raven surveyed the ballroom. Modern jazz music drifted through the air while people were busy talking, dancing, or eating. All of the Justice League and their sidekicks, Teen Titans and the original Titans were in the room. It was impressive to see so many heroes dressed to the nines in such a relaxed and normal environment. She spotted Clark talking to Lois and Diana by the bar and waved when he caught her eye.

“Clark Kent fills out a suit so nicely,” whispered Jinx into her ear.

“Don’t,” Raven rolled her eyes and gently pushed Jinx away. They followed Victor into the fray of the party, waving at some of friends and the younger Titans.

“Friends!”

Kori in her flowing lavender dress hugged Raven tightly out of nowhere. The smaller woman stumbled back slightly before hugging Kori back and gaining her footing. Looking over Kori’s shoulder she saw a highly amused Dick looking stunning in his tuxedo. Pushing Kori away gently, Raven smiled. “Hi, Kori,”

“Thanks for the mustard,” Dick laughed as they all gathered by the designated table for the older Titans.

“It should be crime how hot you two look,” Karen commented dryly, eyeing Richard and Kori in mock disdain. Kori was dressed in a light lavender gown that dipped dangerously down the down the front and back and flared around her hips. Dick matched her dress with a lavender tie and undoubtedly expensive tuxedo.

“You look stunning, friends,” Kori said, smiling brightly at them.

Jinx was dressed in a slinky red dress with thin straps around her shoulders and a neckline that was close to scandalous while Karen was in a rich yellow dress that hugged her curves. Raven had initially protested in getting a new dress, but Karen and Jinx had essentially held her at gunpoint and they bought midnight blue dress with a deep neckline, which according to Jinx, “helped accentuate her tits.” The dress had a long slit run up her right leg, exposing her thigh as she walked.

Kori leaned into Raven’s personal space and gently pocked her in the ribs, much to her annoyance. “Tim has been asking for you.”

Raven blushed and she felt her heart jump into her throat. Looking away from Kori’s amused look, she pulled away, and turned to Karen. “I’m hungry,” she said hastily. No way was she going to subject herself to more teasing. “Let’s get some hors d’oeuvres.”

Kori giggled. “I’m happy for you, Friend Raven.”

Raven felt her emotions warm her. Throwing a soft smile over her should as she maneuvered Jinx towards the buffet stations, Raven caught Kori’s eyes. “Thanks,”

“So you’re not going to look for Tim?” Jinx asked as they pocked around a wide array of canapés. She absently waved at Wally on the other end of the buffet station. “Don’t you want to push him into one of the dark corners of this mansion and have your way with him?”

Raven eyed her in disdain. “How about I push you off one of the balconies here and make it look like an accident?”

“You’re no fun,” Jinx snorted. “Just have fun tonight. I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you and potentially ravishing you,”

Ignoring Jinx, Raven briefly scanned the room in the hopes of maybe spotting Tim. When she did not spot Tim, she turned back to her cucumber canapés ignoring the slight twinge of disappointment in her chest. She followed Jinx back to their table and they joined the rest of the old team.

The party seemed to slowly get into full swing as Roy joined their table and placed a few bottles of expensive wine and whiskey in the center of the table, much to the delight of Victor and Jinx. Ignoring Garfield’s bad jokes, Raven stood up and told Karen she was getting more champagne. There was no way she was going to fall into Roy’s trap of getting everyone wasted.

As she walked towards the bar, she waved at Dick and Kori as they were dancing slowly in the middle of the room with a Clark and Lois and a few other couples. They happily waved back before wrapping themselves into each other’s arms again. Raven felt the warm brush of their emotions against her and she smiled. She was glad her friends finally got married.

“Raven,”

“Constantine,” Raven wasn’t all too surprised to see Constantine by the bar. Taking one of the ready champagne glasses she joined him leaning against the bar and eyed his tuxedo in amusement. “I am pleasantly surprised to see you out of your trench coat,”

Constantine knocked back his whiskey and poured himself another shot from the bottle next to him. “Z threatened to hex me if I even thought of using my old coat,” he shrugged with a hint of disdain in his voice. He waived his whiskey glass at her. “You look amazing, by the way.”

Raven hummed her thanks and took a sip of her champagne. She briefly looked around the party, watching in mild amusement and awe as superheroes drank, ate, and danced through the party. She smiled briefly when she saw J’onn awkwardly dance with an amused Diana. Her eyes drifted towards the side of the ballroom and she inhaled softly when she finally spotted Tim talking to Commissioner Gordon. Ignoring how her heart seemed to beat loudly in her chest, she placed her champagne glass back on the bar and fished out her phone from her clutch. She felt her lips curl in amusement as she opened her phone’s camera and took a quick phot of Tim. Quickly tapping on her phone, she sent him the picture she took and dropped her phone back into her clutch satisfied.

“Didn’t know you were much of a stalker,” Constantine commented in dryly as he sipped his whiskey. He eyed her curiously.

Raven shrugged and grabbed her champagne glass again. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Tim pull his phone out of his pocket. Turning back to Constantine, she leaned against the bar with her left hip and offered an amused smile. “Picked up a new hobby,” she told him.

“Hah,” Constantine laughed. He tipped his glass at her and grinned. “Z told me to pick up a new hobby too,”

Raven snorted and raised an eyebrow. “That isn’t drinking?”

“I’d like to think mixology is an excellent hobby,”

“With you, I wouldn’t go as far as to call it a hobby, John,” Raven countered.

Spotting Zatanna and a few other female members of the League re-enter the ballroom, Constantine pushed himself away from the bar and offered Raven shrug. “Z’s back from her bathroom break with the rest of the ladies, why do you need to go in groups?” he asked absently. “I’m going to back to our table. Nice seeing you, Raven,”

“Bye, John,” Raven waved at the warlock’s retreating form. Taking a sip of her champagne, she felt a warm presence behind her. A warm tingle ran down her back as she felt the faintly familiar press of emotions against her.

“You still owe me a dance,”

Raven laughed and turned around, an inexplicable warmth spreading across her chest as she stared up at a highly amused Tim Drake leaning against the bar. She felt her lips curl into a smile as she stared into warm blue eyes. “Oh?” she breathed, a pleasant thrill ran down her spine as she watched his eyes appreciatively sweep down her figure before settle back on her face. “Didn’t you say you’d save me a dance?”

“Hmm,” Tim hummed and tilted his head lightly in amusement as he looked down at her. Raven felt his emotions tickle her. “You’re right, I did.”

Feeling like she could drown in his blue eyes, Raven tore her eyes from his and looked at his tie. Dark blue. She inhaled softly and felt her heart beat loudly in her chest. “Nice tie,” she commented and titled her head up at him.

Tim let out a soft laugh and leaned his left elbow against the bar as he fully turned to her. Raven watched as his other hand smoothed over his tie and she absently thought how handsome he looked in his tuxedo. It was ridiculous how distractingly handsome he was. “Thanks,” Tim said and offered her a gently smile. “You look beautiful, Raven,”

She felt her cheeks color and she shifted her weight under his gaze. It was absurd how flustered she felt after all those weeks of flirting with him over the phone. And now here he was, looking like that and looking at her in such a dangerous way that shifted the air around them and had her slowly go weak in the knees. She wondered if she had too much champagne. “Thanks,” she breathed.

She watched the corners of his lips curl as he continued to look at her. “Do you…” he trailed off and tilted his head towards the elaborate patio doors that lead to the Wayne Estate gardens. He tapped his whiskey glass thoughtfully while waiting for her reply.

“Oh,” her eyes darted from the patio doors to back to Tim’s gaze. She smiled and nodded. “Sure,”

Grabbing her champagne glass and tucking her clutch under her arm, she slipped past his gaze. Gently touching his elbow, she walked past him and headed towards the patio doors. She felt Tim next to her as they navigated through the crowd and shared amused smiles at each other. When they reached the door, he opened the door for her and gently paced his hand on her lower back and lead her outside. The touch sent a warm shiver up her body.

“How did your mustard run go?” asked Tim as they walked out of the grand patio and into the beginnings of the Wayne Estate garden. They stopped by the elaborate stone banister and stood next to each other, elbows touching and leaning over to look at the sprawling garden in front of them. They were alone and it was much quieter outside compared to the partying inside. They could still hear the muted dance music drift through the air.

“It’s sorely disappointing how Gotham City has so very few stores that carry one liter bottles of mustard,” Raven said followed by a soft chuckle.

Tim snorted. “Does it warrant a strong worded letter to the Gotham Supermarket Association?”

“I think Wayne Enterprises should definitely make this a priority,” Raven teased, throwing him an amused look before turning back to the rose bushes in front of them.

Tim laughed and took a sip from his whiskey. “I’ll make sure to bring it up at work on Monday,”

Raven hummed. A soft breeze swept past them, rustling the trees and bushes in front of them. Her purple hair tickled her chin and she pushed it behind her ear again. “So,” she breathed. “Are you enjoying the party?”

Tim cast a curious glance behind them as a loud round of cheers and laughter from erupted from a table close to the windows. He threw her an amused smile. “I’ll admit it’s a bit unnerving to see so many superheroes drunk,”

Raven let out a soft laugh. “You just wait until Jinx and the others make their way through all the alcohol they brought over to our table. It’s going to be very interesting,”

Running his free hand through his hair, Tim laughed. “I feel like I should be worried,”

“Victor and Karen are with them. They’re the designated drivers. So if anything, they’ll keep everyone in check,” said Raven. Her purple eyes twinkled as she looked up at Tim. “Or the very least, keep Garfield from drunk transforming,”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “And that’s not something we want to see?”

Raven tilted her head with a wry smile. “Unless you want to see him accidentally rip through his tuxedo and transform back into his human form naked,” Her lips curled lightly around the corner as she watched him make a face.

“Maybe we should ask Alfred to send them some water?”

“It’ll be okay,” she assured and turned back to watching the garden in front of them. She stared the garden thoughtfully and thought it would be nice to meditate here. “The Wayne Estate has a such a beautiful garden,”

Tim stared at her and smiled. “Yeah. It’s pretty breathtaking,”

Raven felt the warm brush of emotions against her and she caught him staring at her. His emotions were warm and she was sure he did not mean the garden right now. She felt herself flush. Raven leaned in just a little bit into his space, seeking just a little bit of the warmth of his emotions.

“That’s why I brought you outside. I thought you’d might like to see the garden,” Tim continued and shuffled just a little bit closer to her. His eyes were searching hers. “Have you been to the manor before?”

“Just a couple of times, all for work. This is my first time to really appreciate the manor,” she replied and absently fiddled with her empty champagne glass.

Tim raised his eyebrows in surprise and he smiled brightly. “I’ll need to show you the library later then. I know you’ll love it,”

His smile and energy was infectious. A thrum of emotions ran down her spine and Raven returned his smile. “That’s two promises you’ve made with me, Tim,”

Tim chuckled and tutted loudly. Placing his whiskey glass on the banister and unceremoniously plucking her champagne glass and clutch out of her hands and placing these on the banister as well, he reached out and took her left hand. “I’m not one to break promises, Raven.” he told her, blue eyes twinkling mischievously. His warm hand squeezed hers gently and tugged her closer to him. “Would you like to dance?”

“Here? Now?” Raven heard surprised quiver in her voice and she breathed in slowly. She briefly looked around them, making sure they were alone and no one caught this rather embarrassing moment. Her heart leapt into her throat. As if in cue, the band inside the ballroom began to play a new slow song with violin notes drifting through the air. She felt his warm hand squeeze hers again and pull her closer.

“Yeah. C’mon, Raven,” Tim tugged her hand and gently guided it towards his shoulder and allowed his hand to ghost over the side of her body and settle on the dip of her waist and his other hand curled around her right hand. “I promised I’ll save you a dance, didn’t I?”

Raven realized that the playful, flirty Tim Drake over her phone was vastly different from the playful, flirty Tim Drake that stood in front of her. Tim Drake practically enveloped her in his emotions. Where she thought she was prepared for whatever Tim might reveal tonight, she simply found herself slowly wrapped up in a warmth of emotions that were both his and hers. She felt her own emotions purr and a shiver ran down her spine. Allowing him to slowly lead and sway them to the soft violin music, Raven smiled up at Tim. “You’re strange, Tim Drake,”

Tim laughed, his blue eyes bright, as he continued to sway them to the soft violin music. He gently tugged her a little closer as a more comfortable air dropped around them and his hand slipped around her waist just a little firmer. “I live to please,” he told her softly.

She felt his chuckle against his chest and Raven unconsciously leaned into him more, chasing after his warmth. She could faintly smell his aftershave, sandalwood, and Raven inhaled softly, feeling drawn into his presence. Relishing the soft press of his body against hers, she absently wondered if Karen and Jinx were right and she had really nothing to worry about over whatever this was.

“So,” Tim continued, his voice low and soft. His fingertips pressed gently into her waist as he pulled her just a little bit closer. Raven could feel his heartbeat against her chest, a fast thrum as he continued to sway them to the music. “I – I,” he paused and let a soft laugh. His hand squeezed hers and he looked down at her in amusement. “Sorry, I’m – uh –maybe just a little bit nervous?”

Raven looked up at him caught his sheepish smile and she stared into blue eyes she could drown in. And she felt it, the warm press of his emotions – want, lust, nervousness, excitement – pressing into her. She titled her head and her lips curled into a smile. “Oh?”

“I’m glad you’re here, Raven,”

“Out here?” she asked. She felt her own emotions tingle under her skin and she slipped her hand from his shoulder down his chest and behind his back. Raven was sure she wanted to wrap herself around his warmth more just as a cool breeze swept past them.

His hand wanders a little further around her waist and presses gently into the small of her back. Blue eyes steadily hold her gaze and he continues to smile down at her. “Yeah, here,” he repeats.

Raven hums. “I’m glad too,”

She felt him shift against her and his hand travels just a little up her back, fingers splayed confidently across he back. She looks up at him curiously. “I know we’ve just been talking over the phone, but –“ he pauses and lets out a soft chuckle and looks at her. “I really like spending time with you,”

She felt a warm rush of emotions spread all over body and Raven felt something shift between them. She felt herself go just a little breathless and she smiled, her purple eyes twinkling just a little. “Oh,” she whispered. The corner of her lips threatened to copy his own infectious smile. “I’m not boring you?”

Tim laughed and dipped his head a little, blue eyes dancing in delight. Raven inhaled softly as he pressed himself closer. Raven was sure everything just seemed to melt away and the air still seemed so alive around them. “Far from it,” he whispered.

“Good to know,” Raven mumbled. She watched as Tim smiled, looking pleased. His gaze dropped to her lips and she felt her breath catch in her throat. She unconsciously shifted closer, heartbeat thrumming loudly in her ears.

“Raven?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll kiss you, okay?” His breath fanned her face and Raven was sure she was intoxicated with the emotions and electricity that seemed to wrap around them.

“Okay.”

She heard him release a soft laugh before he pressed even closer and kissed her. Raven felt her emotions roar and she released his hand, grabbing onto his arm to anchor herself. The kiss was gentle but needy as his lips worked against hers and drank her soft sighs. She felt his other hand curl around the side of her neck and gently tilt her head to provide better access. Her fingers curled into his bicep as Tim pressed into her further, silently seeking for more.

It was like a floodgate of emotions opened and headily wrapped around her as Tim coaxed her lips open and groaned softly into them. Raven was sure that his lips, tongue, hands, and emotions were burning her – and she desperately chased after his heat. Sighing softly into Tim’s lips, Raven allowed herself to be wrapped into their heady want and relished his eager kisses.

After a few more long, desperate kisses, Tim gently pulled away and inhaled shakily. Pressing his forehead against hers, his hair tickled her cheek and he grinned at her. “Wow,” he breathed against her. “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks now,”

Still reeling from the press of emotions around her, Raven held on to him. She let out a softy breathy laugh and the corners of her eyes crinkled. “Really?”

“Really.” He pressed a soft kiss against her lips again and pulled her flush against his body, hand sliding down low and stopping at the just at the swell of her ass. Pulling away again and inhaling shakily, he looked into her eyes and his thumb gently swept against her cheek. “Be my date to the wedding?”

Raven chuckled in amusement. “I’m the Maid of Honor. I’m already there,” she teased gently.

“Well,” Tim breathed softly and chuckled. Pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips, he looked at her in amusement. “I’ll save all my dances for you then,”

“I’d like that,” Raven whispered into his lips and kissed him once more.

Hands sliding over her sides and leaving a hot trail down her back, Tim pressed into her. “You know,” he whispered against her lips and Raven felt his fingers curl into her sides. “I need to thank Jinx for sending me that photo,”

Raven chuckled and pressed into him. “Shut up and kiss me, Tim Drake,”

“Gladly,”

#TimRae #timrae fanfiction #Tim Drake #raven #Teen Titans

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signor-signor · 5 years ago

Text

Pre-S3 Shorts Idea

May 18, 2020 - We’re 40 days away from the 4th anniversary of Wander Over Yonder’s second season finale, and have I got something special to share with you.

You know how there was a series of shorts (directed by @owner-of-wendys) involving Lord Hater’s broadcast of his attempt to destroy Wander taking place between S1 and S2? I just thought of something innovative, and anyone who’s ever worked on the show should also check it out.

Suppose Hater is still chasing Wander and Sylvia around the new galaxy in his Skullship, as depicted at the end of The End of the Galaxy (just before the cliffhanger that still hasn’t been resolved). Meanwhile on the ex-secret planet, Andy the Watchdog has quick interviews with various groups of refugees who provide their own reasons for wanting to get off the planet as soon as Wander and Sylvia return. Some others just give an update on their status. As we might have noticed after Dominator’s ship exploded, other Watchdogs became acquainted with the refugees, so it stands to reason that Andy did the same.

Without further ado, I give you... (drumroll)

The Eye on the Galaxy

The Rulers - Bingleborp, King of Flendar (with Flendarians) King of Sherblorg 7, Beeza (with Ballzerians), an appearance from the queen from The Axe, Cashmere (with Baahallans), Demurra and Dracor (with their guards). Just as Destructor’s about to start, time runs out.

The Elderly - Stella Starbella and Mittens, the lost and found guy, Trudi and her clones, the Slug Boss (with the two mummy thugs), Papa Doom (with his gargoyle companions), a call from Ms. Myrtle, who just saw Wander and Sylvia dashing by with the Skullship in pursuit and having deployed an Eye Drone for Andy to check on anyone and anything too big to sit on the ex-secret planet.

The Teammates - Badlands Dan and his gang, Oink and the Motorhogs, red and blue ants, the Insurgent Generals, maybe a call from the Robomechabotasquad asking what happened to Robomechabotatron.

The Youth - Melodie and the kids who appeared in The Legend, Olive (with her mother), the Slug Boss’s grandsons, rock babies carried by the Rock Lady, Huckleberry Knucklehead (backed by his parents), the smartphone son (with his camera parents), the trio of teens from The Black Cube, maybe Demurra and Dracor’s daughters and son.

The Gutsy - Ripov, Thrax and his cohorts (Andy would have added Thrax to The Business Folks, but that group was fully booked), Harvax and Stok, the Slug Boss’s nephew (with the two mummy thugs from earlier), Ryder being shown via Eye Drone and “trying to free a karate sensei from his chamber,” explaining his abscence in The End of the Galaxy. I’d mention the three bounty hunters from The Bounty, but I’m not too sure about their status.

The Reformed - Destructor (picking up from The Rulers), Major Threat, the Black Cube accompanied by his new girlfriend Tracy (plus Stacy and her new boyfriend, both of whom have already realized the Cube turned over a new leaf), a postcard from Westley (found by Barry), maybe the half-torn picture strip of Wander and Bot 13/Beep Boop (found by Jerry when he was sent to check on Dominator and Emperor Awesome in The Rival), Something the So-and-So, who gets cut short like Destructor did previously.

The Business Folks - Blarpee’s cashier, Okeydokian restaurant manager and his employee Michelle, apple-and-lemon-headed bartender, landlord and fast food manager/fry cook, garbage collector, Dr. Scrivellix (the dentist), Clancy and Nancy Shmancy, the plumber, curator of MOGA, Weasel, the two Okeydokian movie directors, hat shop owner, the locksmith.

The Mysterious - Neckbeard, Lords of Illumination, fortune teller, Mooplexians, Keister von Derrière and the other Gnees (with censored heads), the Eye Drone checking on the planet where the currently closed structure of the celestial star being stands, a special one-time visit from the Intergalactic Guru via hologram.

The Creatures - The bunny rabbit from The Good Deed, the pit monster from The Birthday Boy, the fire lion, Grizzlocks, Giant Hoarder Scorpion, Trigrex of Nil, electric bird mother and three chicks, the Frankenstein monster, squills from The Wanders, the Hufflerumples, animals from The Breakfast, animals from The Night (the centipede being the only one from the episode to speak), Frederick, maybe a doom dragon or two, the mother and child from The Egg. Seen via Eye Drone are the Gracknore, Buster, and the giant worm from The Hat that promptly gobbles up the Drone.

The So-and-So - You can guess who the interviewee is in this one. Just like The Whatever, this short foreshadows what’s next for Wander, Sylvia, Hater, and Peepers.

The Rest - Of all the shorts, this one has the most interviewees, each one taking 2-3 seconds to give an answer. Cluckons, hogs, Bobbles, Zetuons, Flankarians, Tiki beings, rabbit-like folks from The Showstopper, Mr. and Mrs. Brittle, ornament beings from The Gift, the balloon man, Dragor the Distractible, Galactia, Veronicron and her husband Jim (the Neon Knight of Nalpraxis), Gelatinous Bob animatronic, Fleeblebort and Marsha and the two hillbilly families, flower-headed birds, any notable residents of Okeydokia, cloaked refugees from the end of The Secret Planet, Brad Starlight and his wife Remora having returned from their honeymoon, his cousin Chad, anyone I might have left out. Lastly, the hooded refugees, also from The Secret Planet.

DISCLAIMER: If these shorts should happen, some of the refugees mentioned here but not seen in The End of the Galaxy may or may not appear.

We can all relate to the refugees in some way. The refugees (most of them) have to wait for Wander and Sylvia to get them back home so they can go about their normal lives. At the start of S3, that’s where the Star Nomad, the ship allegedly made from the one that appeared in The Secret Planet, would come in. We have to wait for the COVID-19 pandemic to be over so we can go about our normal lives. Considering those who worked on the plans for S3 still haven’t given us more clues even in these difficult times, I think the time is right to make more people aware of WOY with this particular idea.

Of course, there is the matter of which medium to use. Animation will probably be time consuming, and much to the perpetual dismay of Wander fans, Disney still doesn’t want to pay to make more WOY. Heck, if there’s no time for animation, animatics might do. A much cheaper method might be the podcast - this way, no visual art has to be made. Hey, it worked for Futurama doing an audio episode titled “Radiorama,” not to mention The Loud House having a podcast titled “Listen Out Loud.” Then again, there’d have to be multiple voice actors reprising their roles, and I doubt they’d do it for free. In the case where visual art is needed, we could do what @suspendersofdisbelief and @benbalistreri did for Star Wanderer and make a comic version of the shorts with help from them and the other writers and illustrators, assuming they’re not too busy with their own projects. We don’t really need Disney’s permission to know exactly what’s supposed to happen after S2, do we?

Regardless of circumstances, I still think it’s a great idea, one @crackmccraigen and the crew could take into consideration whether or not Disney gives them a chance to properly close out the show after Kid Cosmic is done. After all, I am a Disney employee and the only one to come up with this particular idea as far as I know. The only question is, why didn’t anyone else in the fandom think of it before? Also, if @andydaly knew about my idea, maybe he’d be all for it, what with the country still in lockdown.

Look, many of us are still bummed WOY got canceled before S3 could get made, but moping about it and not doing anything to save it won’t get us anywhere. Formerly canceled shows like Hey Arnold!, Samurai Jack, and The Clone Wars got true closure, so I don’t see why WOY can’t do the same. If we all work together, we’ll make history.

To all you pessimists, cynics, and skeptics out there...

Hopelessness stops now.

#Wander Over Yonder #SaveWOY #WOY Season 3 #Long Reads #Eye on the Galaxy

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doyelikehaggis · 5 years ago

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So, are you going to shoot me, or...?

(This is a rewrite of one of my earlier and first Olivarry fics, "Don't let speedsters play laser tag" because I'm already missing them too much.)

AO3

Laser beams zip past as Barry swiftly dodges each one, using his speed to his advantage. He can see every shot coming at him ten seconds before it happens as if in slow motion, able to find his safest path and take it in the blink of an eye.

He tucks himself behind a pillar and breathes out a laugh as a curse rings through the echoing room.

"You're an ass, you know that?" Cisco shouts. "I felt that damn breeze, Barry Allen—we agreed no speedster powers!"

"Does this mean I can use mine as well?" Wally asks.

"Yeah, me too," Jesse chimes in. "Laser Tag's almost...boring without them now."

Barry grins as Cisco scoffs, equal parts exasperated and frustrated.

"No, it's not boring. Not using your powers is the challenge—that's the fun part!" Cisco's argument seems to fall flat, and Barry peeks out from behind the pillar, still hearing footsteps despite the slight halt in the game. "You speedsters just need to relearn the definition of good ole' fashioned fun. Without cheating."

A laser beam shoots across the room with a loud zap. Cisco yelps and just barely dodges, incidentally backing closer to Barry's current hiding spot. He keeps himself out of view, readying himself to move if need be. Cisco's too busy cursing anyway to notice.

"Jesse—you're on my team!"

"Oh, didn't we tell you?" Barry catches sight of Thea, a grin similar to her brother's when he decides to lighten up every now and then, her laser gun held in one hand with a smug look on her face. "We swapped teams. Jesse and I are gonna take you down."

"You see what you've done, Barry?" Cisco shouts, waving his gun haphazardly. "You've started a rebellion! Now the kids are rioting and are gonna kill me! Thanks a lot!"

"Hey, you're the one who just tried to shoot me!" Barry points out.

He moves faster than Cisco can whip around. Lightning crackles behind him as he zips behind another pillar, further away from Cisco.

"Aha!" A shot of bright green goes flying at the spot he has just been in as soon as his connection fo the speed force ends. "Oh, you sneaky—I hate you! We are never playing Laser Tag again, you hear me?!"

Barry just laughs, and he's not the only one, catching a couple others in between lasers being fired. He slowly moves around to the other side of the pillar, keeping Cisco in his sights as he goes back to the game, gun up and at the ready. With Jesse and Thea on a team of their own, the plan of Team Flash versus Team Arrow seems to be off. Which means every person for themselves.

Another shot goes off. A shout goes up from Felicity, followed by cursing, then laughter. Barry quickly slides along to the next pillar as Cisco hurries off in the opposite direction, catching the barest glimpse of Caitlin sneaking past.

He grins, forming a new plan. If he can get to Caitlin first then it'll be easy to get her on his side. She's strangely good at dodging.

Before Barry can move, he picks up the sound of footsteps. Light, precise, moving with the intention of being as quiet as possible. Energy crackles around him, filling his head. His grin widens and he lets the lightning spark his veins and guide him.

In the blink of an eye, he moves, dodging the slow-motion sneak attack. The speed force sizzles away and Barry has Oliver pinned to the pillar, the barrel of his laser gun poking into his vest. Oliver's is turned around, now pointing the completely opposite direction.

"What the—" Oliver's brow furrows as he's yanked back into reality, but as Barry grins at him, the dots quickly connect. His jaw clenches and he looks a little bit murderous with a small smile at the corners of his mouth. "Okay. Probably had that coming for trying to sneak up on you."

"Definitely did," Barry agrees, keeping his voice down, and okay, maybe he feels a little smug about getting the upper hand on him for once.

Oliver hums, nodding slowly. His eyes dart down to the laser gun pressed into his chest.

"So, are you going to shoot me, or...?" He looks back up at him with questioning eyes.

Barry considers it, weighing his options. It doesn't seem to impress Oliver, that's for sure. His lips part in a grin again and he shakes his head, even as he presses the gun a little harder into his vest.

Oliver's eyes flicker, staring into his own too intensely, too guarded, too fixed on one spot.

"No, I think I'd rather team up," Barry says. "We're usually pretty good together, right?"

Oliver huffs out a soft noise of amusement now. "I think teaming up to take down murderers and metahumans is a little different from laser tag, isn't it?"

"Both require good aim, which you have, fast speed, which I have, and us working together." He raises his eyebrows at him. "So?"

"You know I could easily have shot you already," Oliver says. "Your little trick with my gun was pointless. And we're still on opposing teams."

"Then why haven't you done it yet?" Barry asks, tilting his head, his grin widening again.

Oliver hesitates. Falters, seems at a loss for an answer. Except that something is still flickering in his eyes, telling Barry otherwise, and his eyes are so fixed on his. Until they're not, and they move the tiniest bit, just a couple inches down.

He makes a noise as if clearing his throat and chuckling quietly at the same time, and averts his eyes entirely.

Barry stares. It's so rare to see Oliver caught like this. Flustered. Nervous, almost. He's aware that maybe he's a little closer than necessary, and Oliver's always had a thing about personal space. He learned that through too many attempts to hug him.

But he doesn't seem annoyed, and he still hasn't turned his laser gun on him.

"I'm...weighing my options," Oliver says in the least convincing tone. "You made a good point about us being a good team."

"I actually said we're good together," Barry quickly corrects, shrugging.

"Do you want me to shoot you?" Oliver quips back.

There's something else that Barry thinks he would rather he did. Maybe pinning him wasn't the smartest idea on his part. Now he's too close and he can't move without it looking like a retreat, and he doesn't want to lose this game.

His eyes dart down to Oliver's gun, then his own. He tries to look back up at him but his mouth is in his line of sight before Oliver's eyes are, and he's definitely too close.

"Barry?" Oliver's voice is still quiet to avoid being caught by any other opposing teammates.

"Yeah," Barry responds without really thinking about it, then quickly looks back up to meet his gaze, his eyes widening. "I mean...no?"

Oliver doesn't seem to pay much attention to his answer aside from the flicker of amusement that flashes in his eyes, clearer than the rest of his emotions. Aside from his obvious scrutinizing. Searching for something without asking a question. At least Barry doesn't think there was a question.

It feels like there are little hands in his brain, poking, prodding, like they're trying to literally push him. He can't. The little hands have a little voice and they're certainly persistent when paired together, but he can't.

Just because it's been in his head every time he sees Oliver, which seems to be a lot more often lately, doesn't mean he has to do anything about it. Just because Oliver's looking at him the way he is, and is very close with no protests for once, and because his own heart is starting to beat a little faster—

"Feel free to shoot me if I'm being an idiot," he blurts before he can think, because he is most certainly an idiot.

He just barely catches a tiny crease appearing between Oliver's eyebrows, confused. Barry's already leaning in, and he doesn't see Oliver's expression when he kisses him.

He feels him go stiff, tensing up completely at Barry's lips pressing carefully against his own.

This is a terrible idea, this is a terrible idea, this is a terrible idea. He likes Felicity, doesn't he? He's straight. He's Oliver Queen.

Barry's admittedly a little slow to pull back. He presses his lips together when he does. His thoughts are a strung-together mess of oh god, and why would you do that, and he's a professionally trained assassin, who just surprise kisses one of their closest friends who just so happens to also be a freaking professionally trained assassin?

"Barry?" Oliver asks again, but much more softly, his voice strange, unusual.

His eyes open just as slowly as he pulled back, staring at first at the tip of his laser gun still against Oliver's chest, then flicking up to meet Oliver's gaze. First thing he notices is that he doesn't look angry in the slightest.

His eyes are a little wider than usual, and he's just watching him with this look on his face. He thinks it might be one in a very small handful of times he's seen him without some sort of guard up.

"So," Barry swallows, raising his eyebrow as he jokingly asks, "are you going to shoot me, or...?"

There's a twitch at the corner of Oliver's mouth.

"No," he says, and shakes his head. "I'm not. And you're not an idiot."

Barry's about to breathe out in relief, but Oliver's already leaning his head forward with a slight angle and capturing his lips in a kiss.

He's the one to tense up this time from the shock of it. Not being mad and wanting to kiss him are two very different things. It only lasts for the briefest of moments before he's kissing him back, pressing forward, mouth moving with his.

His heart is racing in his ears, too fast, too erratic, verging on vibrating right out of his chest. He can feel the rest of his cells trying to follow suit, too, exciting themselves way too much for just one kiss.

Except it's Oliver, and he's had a crush on the guy since the day he met him. Maybe even before that in all honesty. Oliver's kissing him like it's something he's been holding back on for too long.

Just the thought makes Barry press harder, try and lean closer only to remember the gun between them, then try to move it so he can—

The sound of a laser being fired bounces off the walls and breaks them apart with a start. Extra-quick reflexes accidentally pull the trigger for him and a laser shoots just two inches to the left of Oliver's vest, hitting the pillar with a dull zyoom sound.

Barry's eyes still widen all the same as shouts go up right after, and he lifts his gaze to meet Oliver's equally as wide eyes.

"Move," he whispers, then hisses, "now!"

Barry hurries to do so as footsteps quickly approach their now revealed location. He flashes himself and Oliver away from the pillar and right across the room just as another laser goes off, missing them by a hairbreadth as they come to a stop behind one of the cardboard shields, blocking them from sight.

"I will catch you, Barry Allen!" Cisco shouts. "If it's the last thing I do!"

"I swear, Oliver, you're like a freaking ninja!" Diggle's voice follows, that same edge of frustration to it.

Barry looks over at Oliver, both of them grinning. He shrugs.

"What do you say?" he asks quietly. "Us against them?"

Oliver nods without even a moment's hesitation, holding his gun up. "Let's do it."

#olivarry #oliver queen #barry allen #the flash #arrow #barry x oliver #fanfiction stuff

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snowbarrytrashh · 3 years ago

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Time Will Tell - Chapter 4

Summary: When Barry goes back in time to try and save Oliver and the other worlds that were erased from the multiverse he creates a new flashpoint. He has no idea he’s coming back to a life he doesn’t recognize at all. (this is a snowbarry fic)

Author’s Note: Sorry again for the delayed upload, school and life only got busier. There’s lots of snowbarry content this chapter though:) Feel free to leave reviews! I hope you enjoy:) Also for any Chuck fans reading, I hope you like some of the references!

Barry and Caitlin made it home after finally telling everyone about the changes in the timeline. He didn’t let go of her hand the whole drive back. He was finally realizing just how much he appreciated her and how happy he was to have her through all of this. This was such a terrible situation and he didn’t think he would be surviving right now if it wasn’t for her.

Once they got inside Barry looked at Caitlin, “Are you okay? I know that was hard.”

“It definitely was hard, but you made it manageable. Thank you,” she replied with a soft smile.

“We’re in this together.”

That statement made Caitlin’s smile travel to her eyes which made Barry smile too. He loved to see her smile, to see her happy. He hadn’t seen it much since he got to this new timeline, but he hoped he would start seeing it more.

There was now a little awkward silence as Barry realized they were alone together and he had no idea what they would do with the rest of the day. “So umm are you hungry?” he asked, figuring eating was a safe bet. Plus he was starting to get hungry again already.

“Yeah. We could order in or I could cook something. We could also go out, totally up to you.” She seemed a little nervous like she was talking to someone she barely knew and had no idea what they actually wanted. He thought she was also starting to feel a little intimidated by all of this new found time they had together and the fact that in a way they were kind of strangers. The two people in this room have lived different lives. They might know versions of each other but neither one actually knows the person standing in front of them. There might even be some things about them that are the same over the different timelines but there was still so much more that they didn’t know. But Barry wanted to know. He wanted to get to know this version of Caitlin and wanted to hear more about the life that they lived together.

In hopes of getting to understand their dynamic a little more he asked, “Well what would we usually do on a day we had off?”

He tried to figure out what was going through Caitlin’s mind because she looked at him with eyes that asked what are you up to and then smiled and answered with, “Since we have the day off we’d usually order in for lunch and then I’d fix dinner later tonight.”

“Well then that’s what I want to do,” Barry said with a firm nod. “Why don’t you order something we both used to love. You can surprise me.”

Barry was getting excited. He was loving this idea of getting to not only know Caitlin but know parts of himself he didn’t know. He could see that Caitlin was getting excited about this too when she said, “Okay, I’ll call it in,” almost giddy.

It was weird how it took almost no time to move past that awkward moment and to be so comfortable with each other. It did make some sense since she was his best friend and he was her husband but under the circumstances he felt like most people would probably be feeling a little more awkward right now. He decided to leap with this excitement and comfortability and tell Cailtlin how he was feeling, “I’d actually love to know as much as possible about our lives together and get to know this version of you better as well as this version of myself.”

There she went looking at him with those eyes again. Those eyes that screamed I love you. This time was different though. This time he was actually excited to see them and not just because it's nice to be looked at that way. No, this time he was excited to see the history behind those eyes. To see and learn just how she came to have those eyes for him. He was by no means moving on from Iris or over that fact but today he was pushing that far from his mind. This week was going to be just about him and Caitlin. He didn’t want to spend one second thinking about just how crappy his life was right now, because honestly life didn’t seem so crappy. It actually seemed pretty good.

“Well I’d really love to show you.”

Show you. She didn’t say tell you she said show you. That meant she didn’t want to just tell him but actively live more of the same with him right? He wasn’t reading too much into it? He actually wanted nothing more than to just live it out. To finally get to experience some of this life he’d heard so much about and had been desperate at times to remember. He was actually going to experience this now and it made him happy. Probably the first time he’d been truly happy since he got to this timeline.

He gave her one of those big toothy grins to really show her just how happy he was. “Maybe after you call you could show me around the house, give me an official tour and tell me some stories?”

That made her smile again, “That sounds like fun! I’ll go call in the order now.”

Once Caitlin called in the order she looked at Barry eagerly and said, “Okay, I’m ready!”

She started off in the living room showing him the drawer where they kept some flashlights, keys, and other random items they didn’t have a specific place for. She looked out the window of the living room to the front porch. She gestured to the porch swing and said “You and Cisco actually built that and hung it up yourselves. I had been mentioning how much I would love to have one for like two weeks and then one day you and Cisco disappeared from work and when I came home I found both of you swinging on it with the biggest grins on your faces.”

Barry was absolutely loving this, hearing these stories of their life. She continued taking him through the house showing him around telling stories of all of the memories they’ve made in the rooms they traveled through. Also funny stories of how scratches got on the wall, why there was a chip on their kitchen table, and how the stain got on the rug. They were almost about to finish the tour, only one room left after their bedroom. That room made them both laugh when Caitlin said, “I don’t think you want to know the stories of this room.”

But Caitlin’s laughing stopped abruptly when she saw Barry move in front of the last room. Barry could see the quick change in Caitlin’s mood and become confused. They were having such a good time but then he noticed her staring at the door. He could tell that this is what caused the change in her mood. “We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to.”

She took a deep breath and then walked in front of him to open the door.

He suddenly understood why Caitlin’s mood changed so fast. She just opened the door to a nursery. “Did we… were you…”

“No. No. Umm we had been trying for a year and I had finally given up hope and got kinda distant there for a bit… and then I came home one day and you had done all of this. You told me that you didn’t know when or how but that we would have a baby and to not give up hope and to not push you away.”

She looked at him and he could tell this was causing her pain, but she continued, “You brought me out of that dark place, gave me hope again. We tried again for about another month and then you went back in time to save the world.”

“Cait… I’m so sorry I-“

“I didn’t say any of that to make you feel bad. You really helped me to see just how important we were and,” she paused for a second realizing that she wasn’t actually with Barry in the same way. “But I’m really fine, I promise. I’m okay. I just thought I should tell you.”

Barry walked up to her and wrapped her in a hug, holding the back of her head in his hand.

Caitlin let herself let out a soft cry and then the doorbell rang.

“That should be the food,” Caitlin said as she wiped a tear away and headed down the stairs with Barry behind her.

— —

As Barry and Caitlin sat down to eat their food, he looked at her and said “I actually had kids in my timeline.”

Caitlin looked up quickly to meet his gaze, clearly taken aback by his statement.

“They were from the future though. Iris and I never had a baby, but our daughter and son visited us from the future.” He started to gaze off, finally realizing that being in this timeline means never getting to see them again either, never getting to see them be born and watch as they grew into the incredible adults he had gotten to know and love.

Caitlin looked at him with so much sympathy, “Barry I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay. I think I’m finally realizing that this means I won’t get to see them again… but I do have a lot of hope knowing that they’re out there in some timeline. I’m just so glad that I got to meet them and know them even if it was for a little bit.”

Caitlin reached out and squeezed his hand in hers, he squeezed it back. There wasn’t much to say, not about this. Knowing she was there for him was enough.

“Okay no need to sit and feel sorry for ourselves about things we can’t control, what we need to be doing is digging into this food because it looks and smells amazing.”

And just like that, Barry had brought some light back into the room. He didn’t know how but being with Caitlin made everything seem manageable. She made him feel like despite all of the pain that he was going through that he would be okay. And he was so grateful to her for that.

Barry’s new found perspective allowed Caitlin to give him a soft smile.

“So what is this place anyways?” Barry asked.

“It’s a little Chinese restaurant downtown called Bamboo Dragon, it’s our favorite. We honestly probably eat it a little too much,” she said smiling.

“Well I can’t wait anymore,” Barry said and then took a big bite from his container.

“Oh my gosh, this is amazing.” Barry said as he went in for another bite.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it! This is already my favorite place. I don’t care that I haven’t tried anything else, nothing can be better than this.”

Caitlin was smiling again now and he liked that. He didn’t like to have to talk about the hard stuff but he was also grateful that they could do that too. And after seeing that he actually did like this food he was even more excited to see what else he and Caitlin got into in this timeline.

Now that the mood was a bit lighter they started telling more stories from their timelines and laughing a lot. They were having a really good time and before they knew it they had eaten every last bite from the containers.

“We ate a lot of food,” Barry said laughing.

“Yes, but you are definitely responsible for eating the majority of it,” she responded, laughing with him.

“Maybe,” he said, giving her a smirk. “So what should we get into next?” He asked eagerly.

“I was thinking maybe I could show you around the city, maybe take you to the places you don’t have in your timeline and show you around?”

“I would really love that,” he said, getting up from the table immediately. “You ready?”

“Ready,” she said excitedly.

— —

“No, the Nerd Herd was definitely the best store.” Barry argued as they walked in the front door.

“First of all, Science Galore is the best. Second of all, the version of you I know always loved the Inner Geek the best.”

“Well I don’t know what was wrong with the other me because did you see the 80’s section the Nerd Herd had? That was incredible.”

Caitlin smiles at him now, she likes seeing him excited and happy and surprisingly even likes seeing and learning new things that are different from the Barry she knew.

They laughed and Caitlin made her way to the kitchen, “Are you okay with steak for dinner tonight?”

Barry’s eyes got really big and he smiled from ear to ear “Yes! Do you really cook like this all the time?”

“Yeah,” she said with a giggle at his shock.

“Don’t I ever help you?”

“Well cooking isn’t really your strong suit,” she said laughing, “but you always do the dishes for me since I cook. I quite like the arrangement,” she said with a grin.

Barry looked over and noticed some dishes in the sink and walked right over and turned the water on.

“I didn’t mean for you to do that. I was just telling you about what we used to do.”

“Well I want to do this,” he responded.

She smiled at him, ”Thank you.”

“Thank you.”

— ��

As they were finishing up eating and Barry was carrying the dishes to sink he asked, ”So what do you usually do while I do the dishes?”

“Depends on my mood,” she said laughing. ”Sometimes I’ll go get in the bath, other times I’ll turn on some music and start dancing, but mostly I hop up on the counter and rant about whatever’s going on.”

“Tonight I definitely think you should do the dancing thing.”

“No way!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“Oh come on please, for me?” he asked with puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, fine. But no laughing.”

“I would never,” he said a little sarcastically.

She turned on the music and started dancing all around him, not very gracefully. Barry knew he shouldn’t, but couldn’t help himself and started to laugh.

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I'm sorry, I can’t help it,” he said sincerely, but with a little grin on his face.

“Well, no more show for you.”

“Oh come on now I loved it. You can’t quit.”

“Nope, you lost your chance.”

Barry started laughing again.

“Why are you laughing now?”

“Cause you really can’t dance.”

She playfully hit him on the arm.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t love it!”

“Whatever, just finish the dishes. I’m changing things up tonight and I’m going to the couch and watching tv.”

As soon as Caitlin sat down Barry walked in and sat down right beside her, “You didn’t finish the dish-” she said as she looked over and saw not one dish left in the sink.

“I completely forgot you could speed do that.”

“Do I usually not?”

“No, you actually don’t do most things with your speed except for at work and a few other occasions. Always said you preferred to do things at regular speed, because it helped you appreciate it more.”

“I actually do appreciate things more when I do them at normal speed, I just never got in the habit of actually doing them. I want to try though.”

“You don’t have to, I was just thrown off for a second.”

“I really do want to though.”

“Okay,” she said smiling.

“Okay, I totally understand if you don’t want to tell me yet but I’ve been dying to know. How did we end up together?”

She looked at him and smiled again, “I was wondering when you would ask that question.”

“Me, you, and Cisco would all hang out after work most of the time and one night you asked where we were going and Cisco said he had a date and couldn’t go with us. It kinda threw us off but we just told him to have fun. Once he left you jokingly asked me why we didn’t just go on our own date. You said it would be the best date I’d ever been on. And since it was a joke I laughed and said yes. But you actually used your speed then and picked me up and we were at the door to my apartment in just a few seconds. You told me to get ready and that you’d be back in 30 minutes to pick me up. Sure enough 30 minutes on the dot and I heard a knock on the door. You brought me flowers and you looked very handsome. I figured we were just gonna go on a fake date for fun so I went with it.”

This made Barry blush a little. He obviously knew that since he was married to Caitlin they were attracted to each other, but to hear her say it now gave him butterflies.

“You followed me in and was patient while I put the flowers in some water and then we were out the door. I lived downtown then, so we actually walked. It was such a beautiful evening. You took me to LaFontaine’s, one of the fancier restaurants we have and you even pulled my chair out for me when we sat down. When the waiter came over you looked at him and back to me and said ‘Isn’t my date the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen,’ but you didn’t say this like it was a joke. That was when I finally thought about the possibility of what that night could mean.”

Barry was hanging on to every word she said, trying to live this memory out in his head.

“Because the truth is while we kind of started out the night as a joke, I was not upset at the possibility that it could be real. I honestly had liked you for so long but never let myself actually feel those feelings because I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship. That night though I finally let myself feel every feeling I had for you and think about the possibility of us together.”

Barry was actually thinking the same thing as she told him this story, the possibility of them together. He knew he wasn’t ready to actually start anything with Caitlin right now but he knew he’d be lying to himself if he pretended he didn’t want to.

“We laughed and had such a good time at dinner. I mean it made sense, we always had gotten along so well. And then after dinner we were walking downtown and opening up and telling things about ourselves we had never actually talked about before. We passed another couple on our walk who were holding hands and you said, ‘What kind of date have I been? I haven’t even held your hand’ and laughed a little but then took your hand in mine. Then you did that thing again where you looked at me like it wasn't just about a joke that we kind of started out doing the date as. And then we passed my favorite ice cream shop and I told you how much I loved it so you insisted we go in. Then after ice cream you walked me back to my place with still to this day, the prettiest night sky I’ve ever seen. We walked extra slow to appreciate it and I think part of us didn’t want the date to actually be over.”

Barry didn’t want this story to be over either. Hearing this made him wish even more that he could remember his life here.

“When we finally got back up to my door we hovered by the door for a second and you told me you had the best time and I agreed. I invited you in and suggested we could watch a movie and we ended up watching Singin’ in the Rain. Then after the movie when you went to leave, before we opened the door you said, ‘You know if we were on a real date this would be the part where I’d be forced to kiss you goodnight.’ I wasn’t sure where you were going with it so I asked, ‘Forced? Would it be so bad?’ and you said ‘I’m sure I could suffer through it.’ Then when I said ‘Me too,’ you actually leaned in and kissed me. At first it was slow, gentle. You pulled back to look me in the eyes and you smiled and then kissed me again. And then kept kissing me until it wasn’t so slow and gentle anymore but as we moved towards my bedroom we both stopped before we went in.”

While Barry listened to her words his eyes wandered down to her lips. Barry couldn’t help but wonder just what it would be like to actually kiss Caitlin. And right now he wanted to, really bad.

“That would have changed a lot between us and I think we both knew it wasn’t the best decision we could have made so we actually walked back to my front door and opened it.”

This snapped Barry out of his daydream of wondering just what it would be like to kiss her. He knew that it would complicate things too much.

“This time you said ‘I really did have the best time tonight’ and kissed me goodnight. I literally could barely breathe after I closed the door. I had finally let myself feel my feelings and explore them and there was no going back.

Barry could understand a little of what she meant cause while Barry wasn’t acting on his feelings he sure wasn’t fighting them as hard as he was when he first got here.

“I was a little nervous going to work the next day because I was afraid maybe it was just because of the date and maybe you really did go more as a joke and you didn’t actually want it to go anywhere. And that next day you walked in like nothing was different. I think I almost cried then and there but then Cisco came in and said his date went terrible and asked if we had a crappy night too without him. But you said, ‘No, I actually had the best date of my life.’ He looked kind of shocked and asked, ‘With who,’ but you wouldn’t tell him. When he asked me if I knew I just shrugged cause you didn’t want to tell him and so I thought maybe you did have fun but it was just the one night. Later Cisco had to go to work on something and you came over and kissed me. Didn’t say anything, just kissed me. And then we kept stealing kisses when no one was around.”

This was killing Barry a little bit. Her talking about kissing him. He wanted so badly to kiss her but he knew he couldn’t right now, not yet. But her continuing to tell him about it made it hard, especially since in this story they were the ones kissing, he just didn’t remember it.

“We hadn’t actually talked about what it meant yet though. Cisco had made us go out with him those next two days after our date so we didn’t really have a chance to talk about it yet because you lived with Cisco and I lived with Frost. She just happened to be in Star City the night of our first date but she was back. On the third night though Cisco asked us to hang out and you looked at me and told him you actually had to run over to my mom's lab to start some new research and that I was going to help you. It kind of caught me off guard but I just went with it, hoping I knew where you were going with it. Cisco asked why we hadn’t asked for his help and you responded saying you needed my Bio Chem and medical background. He seemed a little skeptical and asked what we were working on and you looked at me so I just made something up and said we were working on cell cultures for metas and studying them compared to regular humans. Since Cisco is more into making gadgets he didn’t want any part of our research and didn’t put up a fight. We ended up going to dinner and you told me that you couldn’t go back to just being friends and I said I couldn’t either.”

This made Barry realize the actual sacrifice Caitlin was currently making. He was her husband, the man she loved and she was settling for just being friends and not even making a big deal about any of it.

“We weren’t ready to tell everyone yet. We wanted to ya know, figure out our new relationship without everyone else involved. So we actually did start doing that research to have an excuse to be spending so much time together while we still stole kisses when no one was around. And then one day Cisco and Frost came up to us and said that we weren’t fooling anyone and that they knew something was going on. But we really did keep them in the dark for a while. I was quite impressed with us, they didn’t find out until about 2 months of us dating. After that things just went really well. We did take things slow though in some areas though. In other areas not so much, you proposed only 8 months after we started dating. You said we had been best friends for so long and you already knew that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me and there wasn’t any point to waste time. And we had the most beautiful wedding which I know you saw some photos of in the photo album. We had been married 4 years when you came to this timeline.”

Barry was looking at Caitlin in a way he never had before. This story helped him to remember how he had once felt about her in his own timeline but was too scared to see where it went. But after hearing this story… how they fell in love, he was finally admitting to himself that he wanted to know this side of Caitlin for himself. And he was still desperate to know just what it would be like to kiss her. He wanted so bad to just kiss her now and figure out now what it really would be like with Caitlin. But he actually thought that there really could be something real and amazing between them and he knew if he started something now, before he had dealt with this whole situation he was in, it wouldn’t be how he would want it to be. So instead of kissing her, instead of telling her that he wanted to find out for himself what it was like to be with her in that way, he gave her a smile and looked at her with eyes that said I’m falling for you without having to say the words.

“Promise me you’ll tell me more of the story one day. More details and even more details leading up the wedding and after and every second of every day. Every story, no matter how small, I want to know. I want to remember.”

Caitlin looked up to meet his eyes, “I will,” she said with a warm smile that showed her hope.

They looked at the clock and it was getting late, both of them were yawning.

“I’m getting pretty sleepy and it looks like you are too, ready for bed?” Barry asked.

“Yeah,” Caitlin stood up from the couch and was now a little awkward, “Um I’ll just head up.”

Barry was being awkward now too as Caitlin stood there and he wasn’t sure if he should stay on the couch or go with her and he didn’t know how to go about asking or even how to go about saying goodnight.

“Okay, I know we both feel super awkward right now so I’m just gonna go ahead and say what’s on my mind.”

“Please do.”

“Again, I know this is weird for you, but I was wondering if maybe for this week that we have off if you could maybe keep staying with me while I get adjusted ya know?”

“Yeah of course.” Barry immediately stood up and smiled, “After you.”

They climbed into bed and kept at least a foot of space between each other, even though Barry wanted to wrap her in his arms. He would have to settle for dreaming about the day when he was ready to show Caitlin just how he felt. They looked at each other and smiled. Caitlin leaned over and kissed his cheek, “Goodnight Barry.”

#snowbarry #Caitlin Snow #Barry Allen #snowbarry fanfiction #snowbarry fan fiction #snowbarry fan fic #snowbarry fanfic

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bigskydreaming · 5 years ago

Note

Is there anything dumber than a reverse-age AU? No, seriously, Dick is the paragon because he was the first Robin and antedated Speedy, Aqualad and Aquagirl, and Kid Flash. And you can go down the list. Tim has to follow Jason because Jason would be different without the death trauma: Tim himself had a bit of a complex about not "deserving" the mantle Dick created and Jason sanctified. Then we get to Damian, who is young enough to be Dick's son.

Like, I’m not trying to shit on people who just like reverse age AUs for the fluffy aspects a lot of them tend to have, to be fair. Some people are just looking for fluff, and I get that. Those AUs don’t appeal to me for many reasons I’ve already gotten into in depth, but on a surface level I mean, its not really a big deal to switch things up sometimes for the hell of it. But in any kind of in-depth examination of that premise, I feel there’s a whole lot of missed opportunity left to explore in that....with that being I guess the thing that nags at me most?

I mean....I would be genuinely interested in reading a reverse age AU that actually acted as kind of a....”It’s A Wonderful Life” examination of what happens if Dick isn’t the first Batkid, but the youngest. I think it can still be plausible for Tim, Jason, Cass and Dick to all end up adopted even if Damian is the oldest.....but the one thing I’ve never seen any reverse age AU examine is the part I’d reeeeeeaally be interested in, like you alluded to with the other original sidekicks....

And that’s the element that’s really missing from reverse age AUs for me, personally.....acknowledgment of Dick’s impact not just on his family’s formation....but the DC universe as a whole. Dick wasn’t just the first Robin. He was the first child hero, period. He was what started the whole movement, not just within his own family, but outside of it as well. Without his example, would Donna and Garth have left their homes to become heroes for the surface world/Man’s world? Would Wally have even tried replicating Barry’s experiment, thinking that it was even possible for a kid like him to be a hero? If Bruce’s first child and protégé was his biological son, would Oliver have thought to take Roy in as his ward instead of just making sure he ended up with a good home?

Look, I love Damian. But Damian is not Dick, and it doesn’t really track that their positions could be switched and wind up with nothing else being all that majorly different......I guess the thing about reverse age AUs that makes them really just not my cup of tea is like....to me, it seems like they should result in HUGE ripple effects and alteration to the Batfamily and the DC Earth as a whole....and those ripple effects imo ARE the story, ARE the things really begging to be explored by that premise to me.....but its not really what I think most readers and writers of those stories are looking for, hence the disconnect for me.

Like....as I said, I do like Damian, but for who he is. And who he is, is just....not the bright, shining example who captures the imagination and inspires other people the way Dick inspires people. And that’s okay! Because its not a knock against anyone else to not be that, its just who they are.....and who they are isn’t Dick Grayson. Everything about Dick Grayson specifically, is what led to the trend of child heroes both on a meta level and an in universe level. Nothing about that is accidental.....those only appeared in more and more comics because Dick Grayson, the original Robin, captured the imagination of readers and appealed to them and made them want to see MORE child heroes.....just like the sight of a young child in bright colors and cracking puns even as he kept pace with one of the most dark and infamous heroes of the DC Earth captured the imagination of other young people like Dick and with talents and powers of their own and made them sit up and say hey, maybe that could be me too....if someone my age can be BATMAN’S partner, why couldn’t I be Wonder Woman’s/Green Arrow’s/Aquaman’s/The Flash’s?

And I just don’t really see Damian having that effect on peers, you know? Because Damian is like his father in temperament and preferences, whereas Dick was deliberately a contrast by his own choices. Damian wanted to BE like Bruce growing up hearing his father’s legend....and then he wanted to be more like Dick, when he realized Dick’s own strengths and attributes, IMO.....but as the first child, without Dick’s example? Damian would be more inclined to be a mini-Batman, calling himself something like Batboy and molding himself in his father’s image......which means keeping to the shadows. Being more myth than in-your-face-indisputable-fact like Dick was as Robin. And Bruce would have been more inclined to see this as a good thing, and keep Damian as much beside him in the shadows as possible, unlike Dick who just wasn’t suited to that and wasn’t interested in trying to be that.

So I think that a huge potential ripple is right there from the start....like maybe there would be other Batkids and protégés for Bruce after Damian, but would there be other teen heroes? Would there at least maybe have been a delayed start to the other teen heroes, not inspired by Damian directly but more just parallel evolutions who took a little more time to find the inspiration and opportunities to impress themselves upon their mentors? Would even Gothamites know for sure that Batman even had a partner, or partners plural, or would they be more rumor than symbol, like Dick was as Robin, and the other Robins were inspired to be when following HIS example, rather than BRUCE’S example?

That’s what I would really love to see from the reverse age AU premise, personally. And why the ones that exist just don’t really draw me in - they all seem to by premise alone just kinda devalue Dick’s effect on his surroundings as well as just his character as a whole.....there’s the impression that it doesn’t really matter if Dick came first, that anyone could have had the same effects and results that he did, when like.....that’s just not true, IMO. And it is kinda an inherent knock against his character because it sort of runs with the idea that Dick’s no big deal, that his precedent is no big deal, that he wasn’t necessary, for the DC Earth to be the one we all are drawn to today, and that’s just....I don’t see it.

I mean, so much of that is what draws me to his character, personally....the fact that he IS so much bigger than just himself, that his actions and choices have such far-reaching implications. Dick Grayson IS the ripple effects that he’s caused from day one of his creation.....and ignoring that, acting like that’s no big deal and like it could just as easily have been any other character when to my mind it wouldn’t have been any other character because no other character has made the choices he has, specifically, for the reasons he has, specifically.....like, I think that has a lot to do with a lot of the almost implicit or absent-minded....not even contempt, but just....non-interest in his character, that many fans of other Robins have.

Like, what if Dick wasn’t the first - that’s the basic premise of these particular AUs. But the conclusion almost all of them result in is....nothing else would really be all that different. And that’s just not that far away from saying that Dick’s character is largely irrelevant and inconsequential....when to my mind, obviously, nothing is further than the truth. Yeah, what if Dick wasn’t the first? Honestly, truly asked and examined.....what would be different? Not just about his family but the whole DC Earth?

Because I think the differences would be enormous.

LOL, this is the 80th anniversary of this character’s creation. A character who has consistently been one of the highest profile, most visible characters in the entire DC universe for pretty much all of those 80 years, in one way or another. Who has only spent part of one issue dead, in all of that time. And in none of that time retired, or absent, or not in some way still at the center of the cape community.

How do you pretend that a character with that much history, that much presence.....has no real distinct impact on everything he’s connected to? That he could be plucked out of that tapestry and easily and seamlessly switched with a character who is noted for being the night to his day, just as Dick originally was the day to Bruce’s night? It just doesn’t make sense, IMO.

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dust2dust34 · 5 years ago

Text

Four Walls (Of Law Firms and Honey) - Olicity AU, Explicit

Summary: Oliver is Felicity’s boss at Queen & Queen, a prestigious international law firm. She’s the tech genius, he’s the top dog’s son, and they viciously disagree on nearly everything. Despite that, they work together, neither outright acknowledging the ever-present simmering attraction that has slowly been growing hotter and hotter…

Until a chance meeting at a grocery store one night has them crossing a line, a tiny little line that was never meant to be crossed.

A collection of ficlets in the same ‘verse: Of Law Firms and Honey.

Rated: Explicit

Full fic: AO3 | Tumblr | Timeline

Reminder: This is not a story about love. This is a story that ends in love, but it definitely does not start that way.

Please read the story tags and notes at the beginning of each chapter.

This fic is being told out of order. Please see the timeline to read them in order. Please see the previous installments for additional author notes and story information.

Check out the Four Walls playlist, and if you have suggestions, I’d love to hear them!

Additional A/N: This was originally intended for Olicity Clue, but I’m super late on that now. My prompts were Felicity’s glasses, Queen Consolidated, and Isabel Rochev. This is partially written for a Fic For Food Drive I’m taking part in (please check out the details here, and consider donating!), and I say partially because I intend on writing something else in this series for a generous donor.

(read on AO3)

10:06 p.m. Queen & Queen

“There you are. Of course you’re in the last box I check.”

Felicity fished out the honey, destroying her beautiful packing job in the process. Her stapler fell over and the Doctor Who mug she used for her pens and pencils tipped precariously against the tray filled with projects she wanted to finish. Projects you should probably delegate since you, you know, have people to delegate to now. Felicity made a face. Yes, fine, it was a logical idea, but they were hers, damn it. It was her blood and sweat that had made them, and she wanted to finish them the way only she knew how.

Not very boss-like of you.

“Learning curve,” she grumbled. She pulled the bottle out with a triumphant, “Ha!”

Silver caught her eye and she inched her door open to see the letters fully.

Felicity M. Smoak Director of Information Technologies

With a smile, Felicity brushed her fingers over her new title like she had, oh, twenty thousand times over the last two weeks. Her name, on her door, on her corner office - her huge corner office with glass walls that turn opaque when you click a switch, and a bathroom, and a couch… Everything was looking up. She was settling into her promotion, she was getting dinner with Caitlin and Barry this weekend, she had been given leeway to hire more techs to go along with being given the reigns for setting up the system at the new Queen Consolidated…

Everything was good.

Her computer dinged.

The smile evaporated as she spun to her desk.

“No.” Felicity hurried over to her computer. The thick area rug she’d bought first thing muffled the smack of her bare feet until she hit the marble floor again. “You’re not supposed to find anything, what are you finding?”

She landed in her chair with a plop so hard it sent her chair - an ergonomic monstrosity that still reeked of plastic from being packed away - rolling. She grabbed her desk to stop from crashing into the credenza behind her. The honey bottle got in the way and she tossed it away, sending it rolling into her still-steaming mug. Tea sloshed over the sides, but she barely noticed. Her eyes were too busy bouncing between the three screens before her, looking for what had made that very specific noise that had all the hair on the back of her neck rising.

Foreign code was in the system.

In her system.

“Frak,” Felicity breathed, attacking her keyboard. “Frak.”

A few keystrokes later, the alien code popped up on the middle screen, and she was ready to launch into a full-on attack…

Felicity frowned.

It was her code.

“What the hell?” she whispered.

It had her framework, her technique, but it was nothing like what she used here, at all. And nothing she had used, considering it was missing her signature. Which meant someone else had used her code on her servers. And simplistic as it was, it was still hers and very capable of doing damage. Which it had, she discovered with a curse, as she dug deeper, tripping over holes where files had once been. Not that it was hard - everything this person had touched was a flashing red hot mess that she would have eventually found anyway because they hadn’t even tried to cover their tracks.

So it was stolen and sloppy.

“Oh. Hell. No. You steal from me, and then you use it on my servers, and you don’t even try to pretend you didn’t? Do you even know who you’re messing with? Ooh no, no, no…”

It took all of twenty-three seconds to follow the trail.

She expected it to be from outside the building, to lead back to some whippersnapper who didn’t know who she was, and who was about to learn that when you mess with her company, you’re messing with her…

But it didn’t.

It led to a terminal right here in the building: QQ112.

Her chest hollowed, buzzing filling her ears, scorching heat numbing her fingers.

It was impossible to remember who was assigned to every computer at Queen & Queen. A handful stuck in her mind from her technician days. The attorneys who barely knew how to open their email. The users who lacked any common sense when it came to downloading any old thing they found on the internet. Those who thought they hid their browsing history on the extremely not-safe-for-work side of Reddit, and those who didn’t even bother. The ones who insisted on fixing problems themselves and always wound up making it worse.

And Oliver Queen’s computer.

She fought to breathe as she stared at the letter and number sequence. She waited for it to change, to become something else, attached to someone else, to not be this. But nothing happened.

Except something had happened, hadn’t it?

Ice scored her insides.

She had shown him that code months ago, before anything had happened between them, back when she thought he might have been a friend. She had shown it to him as a courtesy, to teach, to spread the knowledge and maybe make Queen & Queen better by association. Not to use it against his own firm’s servers. Not to use her code on Q&Q’s servers. If someone who knew half of anything happened to be in there, they would be able to spot it.

They would be able to trace it back to her.

“Son of a bitch.”

Rage tore into her gut.

“What did you do?” Felicity growled. She went after the code with a fervor that had her keyboard scooting over the desk with every furious keystroke. Her eyes darted across her screens as she used everything she could think of to find out exactly what he had been doing. Angry tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away rapidly with a harsh curse. No. He didn’t deserve her tears. He didn’t deserve anything. She forced herself to breathe through a growing pressure in her chest, but all she could manage were short, sporadic breaths as she murmured, “You bastard. You stupid, stupid bastard…”

He had used the code two times. Both in January.

Felicity’s fingers faltered.

She hadn’t found out about her promotion until February.

The word sabotage seared her mind.

Is that what this was? They were co-directors now, more or less. They shared the department instead of her answering to him. She had taken his old position as Director of IT and a new one had been created for him - Director of Production. She had no idea what happened behind closed doors, but she’d wondered if everything she had done here - all that Oliver had taken credit for - had finally seen the light of day.

Or was this something else? Was it about Isabel, about the holiday party, about the horrible night that had followed here before she started separating herself from him and the debauched things they had done the last few months?

Fire ripped through her and more goddamn tears burned the back of her throat.

Isabel was gone and things hadn’t gone back to the way they were before.

Did he think they would?

Felicity fought to keep her hands from shaking - with anger, she told herself.

Things would never go back to the way they were. Because she didn’t want them to. Because she didn’t want him. She didn’t like waking up looking for him, missing his touch, or that there was an emptiness she couldn’t explain inside her. She hated that she felt anything at all. She hated what they had done. She hated who she was with him. She didn’t want whatever had been between them. And things were good now, she was happy, she was-

There.

He had deleted…

Emails?

Felicity leaned closer to the middle screen, as if she could make sense of the data fragments, but they were too broken still.

The only good thing about him using her code was she was able to deconstruct it quickly. Her code was effective, but it was simple, and it had nothing against the algos she threw at it to put them back together. If it had been someone else’s, it might have taken longer. But it was hers and she had a backup on top of her backups, and it was just a matter of time before she would see what he had destroyed…

All too soon bits and pieces of correspondence appeared. Broken email chains without senders or recipients, or dates or times, the words appearing in splintered sentences that had just enough for her to try and make sense of them.

It’s being split. I brought this up last month anyway,

It’s hers

Call me when you’re out

What do you want

Are you positive?

It can go out next week if you want

CONFIDENTIAL

We had an agreement. This is what you’ve been working towards. Are you sure?

Do you have any idea what you’re doing?

I found them

Let me know and we will get this in motion

I don’t think that’s a good idea

We have a deal

Call me.

yes

It’s best for everyone to get Felicity out

“Get Felicity out of what?” she demanded.

She tried to beef up the program to make it work faster, but there was too much information to cull through to find what was missing from the servers. Felicity huffed, even though she knew it was going as fast as it could within its limits. But waiting for every piece to appear, in the right order? She cursed under her breath. Her leg bounced in time with the speed of her thoughts, nearly matching the agitated beat of her heart. Pinpricks of heat danced over her cheeks, burning. It wasn’t until a lance of pain sliced through her jaw that she realized she had been chewing on the edge of her lip enough to tear a piece of skin.

“Ow,” she hissed, grimacing when her tongue touched the tiny wound. The taste of copper flooded her mouth.

Email addresses.

“Oh,” she blurted.

She could narrow the search to see who was involved. She hammered at the keyboard, changing the directives, switching priority to email addresses, and to order them by the amount of emails they appeared in.

A list immediately began populating.

[email protected] [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] [email protected] [email protected]

The floor fell out from under her.

Felicity stared at the last one, waiting for it to pop up and explain itself, but it didn’t. Instead a boulder crushed her chest and the back of her neck burned as ice showered her insides.

“I thought I’d find you up here, Oliver.”

“I see old habits die hard.”

“I like your shoes.”

“Isabel knows.”

The list continued.

[email protected] [email protected] [email protected] [email protected]

“What?” she breathed at the last one, but before she could even begin to put any of it together, the program started bringing up the corresponding emails. Her email address was attached to only one, and the subject simply read:

Please see the attached.

It wasn’t done loading, but she didn’t wait, opening it anyway. There was nothing in the body of the email. It was just the attachment, addressed to her…

And Oliver.

The attachment was a video.

From Isabel.

“Oh god,” she choked out, her stomach twisting. Her hands shook so hard the keyboard rattled and she snatched them back, digging her nails into her palms. She stared at the email, dread coating her insides like tar.

She told herself it was because it was still loading that she didn’t immediately hit play, but even when it finished - even when the other emails finished coming together - she didn’t touch it.

Felicity wasn’t sure how long she sat there until she finally opened the video.

All she saw were black and white flickers and pixelated snippets. The cursor along the bottom told her it was playing, but nothing showed up, and for a blissful second she let herself believe it was nothing.

Then an image appeared.

An agonized moan fell from deep in her chest.

It was her and Oliver, in an elevator. He had her pinned to one of the walls, his face buried in her neck, one hand in her hair, making a mess of it, the other migrating down her neck, then her chest. She didn’t have to watch to remember the feel of his fingers slipping inside the band of her skirt and yanking her blouse out where it was tucked, so hard it tore one of her buttons. She had one of her legs up as much as her skirt would allow and wrapped around his, so damn eager that she hadn’t cared in the slightest where they were.

Isabel had this.

Her stomach pitched until she thought she was going to be sick.

In a twisted haze, Felicity watched her own hands claw down his back, raking over Oliver’s suit jacket where it strained against the width of his shoulders. She dug her nail into his neck. Her eyes half-closed, her mouth slack in pleasure, so obviously flushed despite the grey wash of the video. She remembered waking up with hickeys and bite marks all over her neck and chest. She had been so mad, she numbly recalled. But not while it was happening. Never while it was happening.

The Plaza, she remembered. They had used the suite the firm kept there for high-end clients.

“They never check the records, Smoak. They don’t want to know.”

The video abruptly switched, and it showed her walking backwards with Oliver following her down the hallway, towards the Premier Suite.

It occurred to Felicity in that second that it wasn’t showing his face.

There was no way there wasn’t video somewhere of him - entering the elevator, at the very least, because someone else had been on there when they’d first gotten on. Oliver had been standing next to her, only attacking her when the person got off a floor later. But the way the video played, if someone didn’t know, it looked like Felicity was taking some random person up to the suite.

His back was still to the camera as they reached the door. She had the key card, having taken it from him earlier, and she slipped it into the lock. She twisted the handle before turning to enter the room backwards. The soft lights overhead reflected on her glasses as she grabbed Oiver’s tie and yanked him in with her.

A blip of static overtook the screen and then it showed her slipping out of the room some time later, head bowed, her hair up in a chaotic ponytail, her clothes askew, her heels in-hand as she hurried to the elevator.

Alone.

It was all her.

The numbness cracked, just enough to take a breath, to frown, to think.

Felicity switched back to the email from Isabel. Short. Simple. To the point. To both her and Oliver.

So why…?

But if someone knew it was Oliver with her, that they were using the suite under his name, under the firm’s name, then there wouldn’t be much reproach, would there? Because regardless of his status within the firm, he was still a Queen. A hand-slapping, perhaps, and she would surely get reprimanded in some way.

Just her, though? Seemingly taking advantage of the firm like this?

But then why had she gotten the promotion she’d been angling for since long before Oliver swooped in and stole it out from under her last year?

She shook her head. None of it made sense.

Heart fluttering so fast it hurt, Felicity flipped through the other emails. There were so many of them, a couple dozen easily, most of them formalities, simple back and forths, nothing substantive. The ones between Oliver and his father were the most confusing, both of them talking in shorthand about a plan, something Oliver had been working towards, their conversations talking around something they both obviously knew and didn’t need to explain.

She stopped when she saw an email from [email protected] to [email protected].

No subject, no body, not even a signature.

Just an attachment.

A draft announcement naming Isabel Rochev as CEO of the newly formed Queen Consolidated.

Release date: March 1.

Felicity stared at the mockup uncomprehendingly. She read the words over and over until they blurred. She noted the empty spot where Isabel’s picture would go. She stared at the question mark after the date in parentheses. She tried to think, to understand what she was seeing, what she had seen. What had happened. How it had happened… and all without her ever knowing. It was blackmail, plain as day. Isabel had the perfect leverage in her possession.

And she had used it to get what she wanted.

“Oh my god,” Felicity blurted. “What did you do? What did you do?”

She grabbed her phone with trembling hands, swiping it open, going straight to her phone app. Muscle memory dialed the number she could never forget, but when his name appeared because her phone recognized it, her heart spasmed and she almost hit the END button.

A soft trill echoed from down the hallway.

Felicity’s head jerked up, her breath catching.

Another trill, so faint she barely heard it.

But she did.

Her phone hit her desk with a thud, but she didn’t hear it, already up and out the door. Her bare feet barely made a sound as she followed the ringing past darkened offices, a copy room, the shadowed kitchen, to the opposite corner of the floor.

To his office.

The trill abruptly stopped followed by a harsh, “What?”

She heard it from the open door that came into view when she turned the corner.

A nervous wash of adrenaline crashed through her veins, especially when a softer, “Felicity?” followed. The closer she got, the more her limbs felt like they were going to shatter, each step shakier than the last. “Felicity?”

She heard him so clearly her mouth went dry.

Felicity stopped when she reached his door.

Oliver stood by his sitting area, just like the one she had, his office a mirror version of hers. He had a sheaf of paper in one hand, his phone in the other, a dark glower on his face as he glared at the little coffee table before him.

Her chest squeezed tight.

It had been so long since she’d been in here - so long since she’d seen him, period. He seemed bigger, yet somehow he took up less space. His muscles were bulkier, but his waist was leaner. His face had a gauntness that hadn’t been there before, his jaw sharp and angular. His tie was off, the first buttons of his shirt undone, the sleeves rolled up in messy bunches, his hair askew from running his hands through it. Dark circles underlined his eyes and in place of his signature scruff was the beginning of an unkempt beard.

She had deliberately not sought him out. She didn’t look for him. She barely offered him a glance when they had to interact outside of telephone calls or emails.

He looked like hell.

She stepped inside.

“Are you…?” he started before he saw her.

Oliver’s words died off, surprise widening his eyes. Then he frowned, and the closer she got, the deeper the furrow between his brow went.

“Felicity?” he said, his voice low, rough. “What’s wrong-”

She grabbed his face with both hands as she pushed up onto her toes and kissed him.

He froze. She barely noticed under the press of his lips to hers again. They were dry, chapped, but still so soft, just like she remembered.

Felicity whimpered and grasped him tighter, pressing closer, kissing him harder. The little wound she’d given herself a few minutes ago burned under the pressure, but the pain only edged the heady sensation of his mouth against hers again. God, she had missed it, she had missed him, more than she wanted to admit. But it was impossible to deny right now, when it had been months, when the last time she had kissed him had been in anger, her only intent to hurt and maim, to inflict the pain she’d felt. There was none of that now. This was different.

He stood stock still. He didn’t even breathe, stiff and unrelenting, implacable.

Until he wasn’t.

Oliver melted into her.

She gasped at the abrupt surrender, the sound morphing into a strung out cry as he kissed her back. He dropped the papers and his phone, both landing with a thud, the papers hitting her naked toes, but she barely felt it. He wound his arms around her and yanked her off her feet.

It had been so long.

Too long.

Felicity opened her mouth at the same time he did, their tongues meeting halfway. She groaned at the first taste, eclipsing his breathy whine. He clutched her hard as he bowed forward, chasing the kiss with vigor, his tongue spearing into her mouth. Her knees buckled, her feet hitting the ground in an uncoordinated mess, and it was only because of his hold that she didn’t fall. But then she pushed off the floor, shoving back against him, kissing him with equal ardor. Teeth collided, lips yanking, pulling, sucking, tongues exploring and tasting and tangling. Despite how they chased each other, he still eclipsed her, surrounding her, swallowing her up. She whimpered at the overwhelming sensation and he drank it all in as his hands roamed all over her, before falling to her ass. He gripped her so hard she broke away with a cry.

He didn’t let her get far, though, and she didn’t want him to.

Not anymore.

Oliver captured her mouth again, sucking on her bottom lip, groaning when she nipped at him.

The back of her legs collided with something hard before she even realized they were moving. The coffee table. The heavy, low-sitting furniture scooted across the floor, but they just followed it. Oliver urged her down with hard hands. Felicity clawed into his shoulders, unwilling to release his lips, forcing him to follow her as she laid back on the table. It was awkward and uneven, but neither of them cared, or bothered to fix it, because it meant stopping, and that couldn’t happen. Oliver loomed over her, gripping the edges of the table, his muscles rippling to keep from crushing her as he ravaged her mouth with a thoroughness that left her head spinning.

But then all too soon, he was wrenching away.

With a ragged gasp of air and fogged glasses, Felicity arched up to follow him - don’t go, don’t stop, don’t - but he just fell to his knees before her. She tried to spread her legs to wrap around him, needing to feel him pressed against her as much as possible, but her skirt was too tight. She frantically yanked it up as his hands flew to his belt and pants.

Heavy breathing and the rustle of clothes were the only sounds for a moment.

Pants half-hanging open, Oliver grappled for his wallet. He ripped it out of his pocket and dug out a square package. He tossed the leather away as Felicity pushed her panties down, pulling her legs up enough to yank them down one leg, leaving them hanging off her foot as she spread for him.

Oliver’s eyes dropped to her sex. Mouth swollen, cheeks flushed, lids heavy, he stared at her as he rolled the condom down his length, his pupils eclipsing the stormy blue as he drank her in.

A shiver shot down her spine.

She missed this, missed how he looked at her, half-drunk with need that matched her own.

“Please,” she begged, grasping the edges of the table and scooting closer to him. “Oliver.”

He grabbed her hips, yanking her until her ass hung off the edge. The swollen head of his cock rubbed up her cleft, and then back down, nudging her entrance.

“Yes-”

Oliver thrust in, hard and fast.

Felicity shouted at the intrusion. Her back bowed, her eyes squeezing shut as he filled her to the brim. The pressure was incredible, his girth stretching her nearly to the point of pain. She felt him in every inch of her body and it stole the air right out of her lungs.

“Shit,” Oliver gasped, his hands grabbing her waist as he pulled back out. “I’m sorry-”

“No,” Felicity pleaded. “Don’t-”

She found his hips and yanked him inside her once more. She hissed when he stretched her so wide it was all she could to keep breathing. But she did, and she angled her hips to take him in even deeper. She hadn’t realized how much she had shut down, shut him out, not even entertaining the option, to the point she wasn’t ready for him like she would have been before. But she would be, again. She knew if they kept moving, her body would catch up. It would.

Her name fell off his lips in a choked moan as his fingers dug into her ribs.

To stop her. To pull out. To leave her.

Felicity shook her head wildly.

“No, no, it’s okay, it’s okay,” she babbled breathlessly, but her voice breaking betrayed her. She arched up to keep him inside her. “It’s just… been a while, I’m… I’m okay, I’m not… I can’t… Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop-”

She was begging him.

The anguish in her voice sliced her heart to ribbons. She felt ready to burst into a thousand pieces, for a thousand different reasons, and absolutely none of them made sense. She had prided herself on keeping her distance, on being stronger than whatever was between them, on being able to walk away.

But now all of that was gone in the blink of an eye, just gone, as if it had never been there.

The realization tore through her and Felicity fell back against the table with a broken cry.

All of it had been a lie. She was a lie. Everything she told herself she felt was a lie.

Another sob threatened to escape, but she bit it back. Because the only thing that mattered in this moment was staying here. With him. She needed to be here - with him - and she couldn’t think about it, about what it meant. She could only feel.

She only wanted to feel.

“Please,” Felicity breathed, arching up again, her legs winding around him, her nails scrabbling under his shirt. “Don’t stop. Please-”

“I’m not,” Oliver whispered in a rush, falling over her. It changed the angle of his hardness inside her and she whimpered as he cupped her face on a ragged, “I’m not stopping. Ever,” before his lips found hers in a burning kiss.

It matched her desperation so perfectly that tears burned her eyes. It shouldn’t soothe her, and she knew that. But it did, and it felt so good, so right, to be here, to be back with him. But it was more than that. It grounded her, in a way she couldn’t do herself. She mewled, opening for him, winding her arms around his shoulders. He kissed her until they were both gasping for air, and then he kissed her even more, deeper, harder.

He invaded her in every way possible.

More.

Felicity twisted his shirt, twisting it, yanking. She slid one hand under the collar, and then his undershirt. His skin was blisteringly hot against her palm, and she moaned, kissing him harder as she dug her nails into his muscles. His hips jerked into hers, and this time they both moaned when he slid in a little easier, sending tiny bolts of pleasure through her.

“Off,” she mumbled, tugging at his shirt. “Off.”

He didn’t bother with the buttons, ripping his dress shirt off along with his undershirt. Buttons went scattering, but Felicity barely heard them pinging, or felt the ones that hit her as she yanked her own shirt off.

Her breath caught at the sight he made. His abs stood out in stark relief, too stark, the lines of his body harsh and rigid, a wall of pure muscle. He had always been well-defined, but this was extreme. Felicity flattened her hands to his stomach and smoothed them. She was transfixed by the feel of his hot, silky skin over such hardness, her fingers ghosting over his taut nipples, his rock-hard pecs…

“C’mere,” Oliver grunted, hooking his fingers in the front of her bra and yanking her up.

The lace tore across her skin and she yelped as she crashed into his chest. The pain only fueled her need as the new angle had him shifting inside her again, gasoline on a fire, turning a simmer into an inferno.

Felicity’s teeth found his collarbone.

He cried out, grabbing the back of her neck. He crowded her closer as she worked her way up his neck, savoring his salty taste, sucking and nipping, leaving little marks that would be there for days.

“Fuck… Felicity…”

She’d never heard her name so many times from him like this. She was always Smoak. But not right now, and the knowledge that he was just as undone as she was had her licking and sucking harder, wanting to hear more of it. He gave it to her, a raspy plea as he turned his face into her hair, his breathing hot and damp, his fingers digging into her neck as she marked him, up his throat, his jaw…

On a groan, Oliver captured her lips with his as he inched his hips forward.

He filled her up, so much more smoothly, so good, so perfectly. Burning need arched through her, the pressure changing, her slickening inner walls clamping down on him. Oliver swallowed down her cries, matching them with his own as he pulled out a bit to thrust back in. He rubbed against her with each thrust, his pubic bone hitting her clit, sending little bursts of pleasure sparking through her. She keened, clinging to him, and he did it again, and again, slow and steady, making sure she was ready for him.

“Yes,” she whimpered, grabbing his face, kissing them both breathless. “Yes.”

His fingers found the clasp of her bra. He undid it quickly and pushed her back down to the table.

The cold tabletop was a shock, but then Oliver was pulling her bra off, tossing it away…

And then all she felt was the burn of his gaze, and then his hands as he grasped her waist.

His hips slowed as he stared at her with unfathomable eyes, so dark, so intense. It was almost like he couldn’t get enough of what he saw. Captivated. Transfixed. His gaze danced all over her, up her chest, her neck, her mouth, then back down to her breasts, her abdomen.

“Felicity…”

He dragged her name out, tasting every single syllable. Did he know what he was saying? He couldn’t, she thought, not with how he looked at her, or how he touched her. There was a reverence that hadn’t been there before.

Felicity’s heart skipped, her mouth going dry, her stomach fluttering.

She had missed him, so much, and not just his body. But that was the confusing part. They didn’t have a relationship. They didn’t have anything.

And yet… the way he looked at her… how he made her feel…

“Felicity…”

She shivered, and fought to breathe, but then he was touching her. Oliver smoothed his hands up her waist, his thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts before slipping back down, one hand cupping her ribs, the other spanning the width of her stomach…

So soft.

So gentle.

Felicity shuddered, goosebumps erupting over her skin. They sent another shiver ripping down her spine, and another. The goosebumps spread everywhere, her chest, her stomach, her breasts, peaking her nipples into hard little beads that ached.

It was nothing compared to the way he stared at her.

It was too much.

“Oliver,” Felicity choked.

His dark gaze flew to hers and her heart clenched at the look in them.

Too much.

She grabbed his hands and slid them up to her breasts, cupping herself with his fingers. Lust slackened his face and he took over, squeezing them before raking his thumbs over her nipples. Pleasure spiked through her and she moaned, loudly, and he did it again.

“Yes,” she breathed, nodding, closing her eyes as she arched her back, rocking her hips. “Please. I need you-”

On a harsh growl, Oliver squeezed her breasts, so hard and fast it took her breath away. Using his grasp on her to keep her still, he thrust into her, burying himself as deep as he could. Her hands scrambled up his arms for something to hold onto as he gripped her breasts, relentless and unforgiving, and thrust into her again. Again. Again.

“Oh… god!” she cried. “Oh… oh god…!”

Oliver fell on top of her, pinning her to the table, spreading her legs impossibly wide.

“Say it again,” he demanded, his mouth finding hers in a messy kiss.

She struggled to respond, but his demanding lips stole her ability to do anything. He ripped away only to shove his hands up into her hair. He destroyed her ponytail, pulling on the long strands until enough was free so he could make tight fists. Oliver braced himself over her and used his new leverage to pull out nearly all the way before thrusting home, so hard the table shook. Felicity shouted, grabbing his sides for something to hold onto. She was completely at his mercy and it had a rush of arousal sweeping through her, her juices flooding her sex, a desperate ache for him to fuck her sensenless razing her from the inside out. Blood rushed in her ears, her heart pounded, heat swamped her veins, a mind-numbing pressure deep in her core coiling tighter as Oliver thrust into her so hard the table slid across the floor.

“Say it.”

“I need you,” Felicity gasped. He groaned at the words. “I need you. I need you. I need you.”

They moved together, finding a rhythm to his pleading, “Again,” and her breathless, “I need you,” echoed by the sounds of their harsh pants for air and her wet sex taking in every inch of him over and over until they both dissolved into mindless cries.

The orgasm hit her in a tidal wave, bowling her over, eclipsing everything. White sheeted over her eyes, a series of short, startled cries flying from her as she fell to pieces.

Oliver’s grip on her tightened so much she whimpered as he started thrusting with abandon. Hard, harder, each collision sending her higher, dragging her pleasure out until she didn’t know where he began and she ended. His forehead landed on hers, skin slick, his breaths hot and ragged against her mouth. Felicity grabbed hold of him, cradling him, nonsensical words falling from her as he plowed into her, erratic and frantic, chasing his pleasure.

He jerked, his back bowing, his pistoning hips stuttering.

With a strangled, “Felicity,” on his lips, he came.

Oliver collapsed on top of her, burying his face into her throat, her skin muffling his desperate noises. He didn’t stop, his hips rocking into her as he rode out his orgasm, her inner walls milking every last bit out of him, his cock twitching deep inside her with each burst.

It was a long moment before he finally slowed, and then fell still.

Buzzing filled her head.

Pleasure. Satisfaction. Shock. Confusion.

She wanted him to move. But she didn’t. She wanted to want to. She wanted to get off this uncomfortable table, to get his bulk off her where he crushed her, but at the same time, she didn’t. She didn’t want to move. Ever.

Oliver made the decision for her.

He slowly pushed up. He slipped out of her, trying to quiet his groan when he left her wet heat. Felicity bit her lip so hard it nearly tore the skin as her sex clenched at the sudden emptiness. And then he was off of her, pushing to his feet. He grabbed his pants, yanking them back up as he turned away from her.

He didn’t look at her once.

Felicity sat up, grimacing at the throb blossoming between her thighs. She stood up gingerly, her hands shaking as she pushed her skirt back down. The silence was deafening. He moved to his desk, peeling the condom off as he went before tying it off and tossing it. The cool office air stung her sweaty skin and she crossed her arms over her breasts, looking around for her blouse.

She spotted it in a crumpled heap next to his tangled shirts.

It smelled like him when she slipped it over her head.

“Were you supposed to be the CEO of Queen Consolidated?”

Silence.

Felicity looked at him where he stood by his desk, his hands frozen where he’d been re-buttoning his pants. The slacks were tight across his backside, stretched over his thighs in a way that they hadn’t been before. His back was covered in red marks where she’d raked her nails over him, making the well-defined muscles in his back stand out in harsher relief when he finished fastening the buttons. His belt was next.

That was it.

“You were, weren’t you?” she asked. The full weight of that hit her and Felicity’s ribs closed in around her, making her gasp. “You were leaving Q&Q. But now you’re not. Because of Isabel. Because of…”

Us.

He turned his head slightly, but that was it.

“How did she know?” she asked. She caught the edge of his forehead creasing in a frown. “About the Plaza. That we were there that one night…” He finally turned, his brow creased in muted surprise, and she huffed. “C’mon, Oliver, give me a little more credit than that. This is my system, remember? I know when something’s wrong. Or… missing. I saw the video. And the emails. And the announcement about her, that you sent. Like it was… gift-wrapped. Because she had something that she couldn’t have possibly known about, didn’t she? But the odds of her picking that one night…”

He didn’t answer her. He just turned to his desk.

“Oliver-”

He opened one of the bottom drawers and pulled out…

“My glasses?” Felicity frowned when she recognized the frames. She absently reached up to touch the replacement pair she currently wore. “I thought I lost those.”

“A couple weeks ago…” Oliver said in a low voice, not making a move to hand them to her. He tilted them back and forth in his fingers, the move so easy and familiar, as if he’d done it a thousand times. He stared at them as he spoke. “Isabel walked into my office and handed these to me. I told her they could be anybody’s, but then she showed me the security tape.”

Felicity’s heart sank. “Oh god…”

“I told her to go to hell,” he continued, still watching the glasses. He huffed. “She must not have liked that very much because then she sent the video to both of us. Except this time it was focused on you. She said she wanted you gone, and that if we didn’t do anything about it, she would take the video to the Board, since you not only work here, but are slated to be so involved with getting Queen Consolidated set up.”

Felicity closed her eyes.

This was her fault. It wasn’t them, together, specifically. It was her. She remembered wanting to escape that room the next morning more than anything, before Oliver woke up, before she had to face what they had done. Again.

“It was a game to her,” he said and she opened her eyes to see his locked on her. “She wanted to see what we would do when she pushed us into a corner. If it was just me, or if it was both of us, I could have at least… But it was you, and I knew I couldn’t do anything without risking her releasing that tape, so I gave her something she couldn’t resist.”

“Queen Consolidated.”

“Queen Consolidated,” he echoed. The broken way his lips lifted in a half-smile, an attempt to hide the depth of what he had given up, cracked her open. “It didn’t matter, though. Whatever we had, it had nothing to do with your job. You’re the best asset this firm has and I wasn’t going to let you pay the price for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Felicity could only stand there, staring at him, too overwhelmed to comprehend any of it.

So she focused on the one thing she could fix.

“She still has the video.”

Oliver pursed his lips on a slow nod. “Yeah.”

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing they tapped me to set up Queen Consolidated, isn’t it?” She gave him a tight smile before lifting her hands to wiggle her fingers at him. “I’ll get it. Somehow. Once I’m in, I’m kind of hard to escape.”

Something flickered over his face, but it was so tiny, nearly indiscernible, that she wondered if she saw it. Then she remembered how he’d looked at her a moment ago and her heart faltered.

He dropped his eyes back to the glasses.

“Here.” Oliver cleared his throat as he stepped towards her and held them out to her.

Felicity slowly took them. “Thank you.”

All he had was a tight nod and a bland attempt at a smile before he turned away.

She grabbed his arm. “Oliver, wait-”

He looked back, his brow twisted in what she could only read as concern, but she barely gave herself time to discern it.

The second he faced her, she pushed up onto her toes again and kissed him.

It was soft, chaste, her lips capturing his with an ease that settled something deep inside her.

“Come home with me,” she whispered against his lips.

He hesitated and her chest caved in.

“Please.”

An eternity passed, their breaths mingling, noses brushing, but that was it.

She pressed her lips together before biting her bottom lip, the urge to ask him again - to beg - overwhelming her, nearly taking over.

Please.

Oliver pulled back and she barely bit back a whimper. He was going to say no. She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to see the look he gave her, to face what she was asking him, after she had slammed the door in his face. Felicity bit her lip harder, fighting to keep more words from falling out…

He cupped her jaw.

Felicity’s eyes flew open as his thumb tugged her lip away from her teeth with a whispered, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

The word was out before she could think, and the second it was, his mouth was on hers. With a sigh, she fell into him as Oliver wound his arms around her, pulling her into him. They opened for each other, and she whimpered when he took a deeper taste, re-sealing the unspoken bond between them.

“Yes.”

Thank you so much for reading! Reviews literally feed the soul and muse!

On a final note, I want to thank everyone who has engaged with me about this story. I appreciate every single comment and tweet and DM and ask. I know the way I'm writing them in this 'verse is very challenging, and demanding, and it's not an easy read. But it shouldn't be, because I don't want it to be. I don't want my readers comfortable during certain parts of this story, because I'm not comfortable. I'm pushing a lot of boundaries with this story. This is my most difficult undertaking to date, and I question myself at every turn in this process. All the more reason I truly appreciate those who continue to read, who reach out, who share their thoughts with me. I'm learning a lot about myself as I go on, and I thank you for being on this journey with me!

#olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #olicity fanfiction #olicitysquee #oliver queen #felicity smoak #arrow #fanfiction #olicity au #of law firms and honey #four walls #my fics #my fics: au

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backtothestart02 · 5 years ago

Text

Return to Paradise - 3/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: This chap was actually pretty hard for me to write, so I hope it came out okay. I’ll have to put together an outline for this fic, so I actually know where I’m going with it. XD

For @westallen94

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing.

...

Chapter 3 -

The balmy breeze of Bali surrounded Barry and Iris when Barry came to a stop. For a moment they simply took in the tropical paradise they’d visited a year ago. They were standing almost exactly at the spot where they’d made love on the beach. The realization caused a fleeting heat to sweep through Iris and a similar one to emanate from Barry’s eyes as he gazed over her body from head to toe, lingering on certain curves more than others.

Iris cleared her throat, aware of him watching her, and looked around.

“Do you see Nora anywhere?”

“I doubt she knows this exact spot,” Barry said, reluctantly tearing his gaze from her to glance around them.

“Well, she has all of our luggage, so it would probably be a good idea to find her.”

“Would it, though?” His lips twisted ruefully.

Iris’ eyes landed on him in disbelief, though she really should have known.

“Barry.”

“What?” His voice rose slightly. “This was supposed to be a second honeymoon for us, not… And it’s that I don’t want to spend time with her and make memories we never had, but-”

“I know, baby, I know.” She patted his chest lightly, forcing herself not to get distracted by the feel of him.

“All I’m saying is…what’s the harm in not looking for her right away and waiting for her to come to us? She’ll find us eventually, what with using her speed and all.”

“I don’t know, Barry…”

The bad mother alert was going off in her head, but the horny wife siren was even louder, and she knew she was weakening. She didn’t even try to resist when Barry took her hand and led her further down the beach.

“Nora said she wanted today to be a beach day, right?”

Iris reluctantly nodded.

“So, let’s get started without her. There can only be so many beaches on one island, right? She’ll get to this one eventually.”

Iris gave him a look that spoke volumes, but he pushed her large sunglasses down over her face, and she laughed. He pushed her strands that had gotten caught in the crossfire to the sides of her face and kissed her nose, resting his hand at the base of her neck. He took a moment to catch a whiff of her hair.

“You smell amazing, you know that?”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“All right, lover boy, where are we off to? Somewhere shady, I hope. I can already feel myself starting to sweat.”

Barry could think of other ways he could get her to sweat, but he made an effort to move past those thoughts she probably wouldn’t approve of.

“I think I see one of those large umbrella stands down the way. We can rent one and relax on some towels.”

“How are we going to do that without any money?”

“What… You think I gave Nora everything? The wallet you gave me is sacred.”

She stopped, her heart skipping a beat.

“You’re still using that wallet I gave you? The one that-”

“You gave me the Christmas we moved in together? Of course.”

Iris melted. How she wished they were really, truly alone right now and not waiting for their adult daughter to run into them at any moment.

As if he could read her mind, a million different avenues rushed through Barry’s. Romantic and steamy scenarios alike, all ways they could just bask in each other without the worry of any interruption. He loved his daughter. God knows he did. But there’s no Nora without Iris, and he’d almost lost her to Oliver.

“You’re my lightning rod, Iris.”

“I love you.”

Her lips parted and, teary-eyed, she went up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss.

“I love you.”

He squeezed her hand then tugged her along – or was about to, when a gust of wind blew past them and an exhausted Nora West-Allen appeared before them.

“There you guys are.” She heaved, nearly hyperventilating. “I’ve been searching everywhere!”

“Nora,” they said simultaneously.

She waited for an explanation and almost didn’t get one.

“We were uh, just-”

“This is-”

“Oh, where you had your honeymoon, of course!” Nora proclaimed, spotting the hotel they stayed at from a distance. “I should’ve guessed.” She shook her head.

“So, where did you leave our luggage?” Barry asked, and Iris smacked him lightly. ‘What?’ he mouthed to her, rubbing his arm where she’d hit him.

“At the villa.”

“You found one?” Iris asked, entranced and impressed.

Nora nodded, beaming.

“Told you I would. And guys –” She squeezed between the two of them and slipped her arms around both of theirs. “It’s to die for. You’re going to love it.”

Barry and Iris shared an amused look, but Nora was oblivious.

“Bedrooms are upstairs, kind of an open-loft look. Huge living room and kitchen. There’s a whirlpool in back, a basement with a pool table in it and it’s just around the block from the beach and a public pool. Honestly, it’s perfect.”

“Well, I can’t wait for you to show it to us.” Iris smiled.

“Then maybe we can grab some lunch and head over to that beach that’s so nearby. Do a beach day like you wanted.”

“That sounds great!” Nora squealed. “But after I show you the place, I think I’m going to take a nap. All that luggage was heavy. Then looking for you all over the island…”

Barry felt bad now about not just using his phone to call her. But hey, she hadn’t thought to use hers either, so…

“But you found us,” Iris finished, a reminder that made Nora light as a feather again.

“I did.” She stopped and tugged on Barry’s arm to whisper in his ear.

“Lead the way,” he said, then turned to Iris with a grin.

“Barry,” she warned, but he’d already started to pick her up in his arms.

Nora giggled then disappeared in a flash. Barry was soon to follow. When the two speedsters finally came to a halt, all three of them had to catch their breath.

They had entered paradise.

…

After exploring the beautiful beach for a few minutes, Nora took a sudden turn and guided her parents to the villa at the end of the block. It was just as gorgeous as the beach, and just as Nora had described. After a quick tour, though, Nora promptly passed out on the couch and started to snore.

“She sleeps like you,” Barry commented, amused.

Iris smacked him lightly. “That drool on that pillow is alllll you.”

He scoffed. “I don’t drool.”

Iris raised her eyebrows. “I’ll have to start taking pictures.”

His eyes darkened, and he intertwined their fingers, pushing her slowly back against the wall by the stairs.

“I have absolutely no problem with you taking pictures of me,” he said, huskily.

She laughed, but it was strangled, because how was he so good at turning her on? They were talking about drool, for heaven’s sake.

“I bet you are.”

“Can I take pictures of you too?” he teased, leaning in.

“Since when have you needed to get permission?”

He grinned and kissed her, a deep, passionate kiss that had her seeing stars and curling her toes.

“We can’t do this here,” Iris said promptly, as soon as she could catch her breath.

He smirked. “Do what?” he asked innocently.

She rolled her eyes, smiling until she could get a hold of yourself.

“Not with her in the same room, Barry Allen. Not when she could wake up at any moment.”

A loud snore interrupted them, and they both looked over at their sleeping daughter whose body was half off the couch now.

“I find that highly unlikely,” Barry said with a smirk. Then he looked at her hopefully.

Iris shook her head. “Nope.” Then strode into the kitchen and grabbed a post-it to write on.

Barry followed her lazily. “What are you doing?”

“I am writing a note for our daughter when she wakes up.”

“Yeah?” he asked, coming behind her and pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. Iris couldn’t suppress the shivers, and he smiled against her.

“Yes.”

“We are…going on a…walk?” Barry asked, his brows fused together as he read her note.

She turned around in his arms. “Mhmm.”

“Where are we going?” he asked. “I’d have thought you’d be tired by now.”

She gave him a look.

“Of walking,” he clarified.

“I’ve walked around all of five minutes.” He considered that. “Besides,” she said, draping her arms around his shoulders. “This is our chance to do whatever we want.” She stopped him as he started to open his mouth to speak. “That we wouldn’t be able to do in another setting back home.”

His mouth shut, and he pouted.

She laughed quietly. “You have a one-track mind, babe. Switch it to romance.” She patted his chest lightly, and he smiled.

“You got it.”

He took a step back and clasped one hand around hers. Then he tugged her gently towards the door and stepped outside.

“So, where are we going?” Iris asked, inhaling the scent of the outdoors and the balmy breeze.

“We are going on a walk,” he announced, then paused to wink. “Aren’t we?”

She didn’t know what to say to that, but she allowed him to wrap his arm around her and guide her down to where they’d come from on their way to the villa. The beach wasn’t all that crowded for being as beautiful as it was, so close to hotels, and it being mid-day. It was smaller than most beaches they’d seen, but that made it even nicer.

“Mai tais?” a waiter from a nearby restaurant offered them. They were small, since they were samples, but it was no coincidence they’d come upon them. Iris was certain of that.

“Thank you,” Barry said, handing Iris one with a purple umbrella as he took a red one.

“Yes, thank you,” Iris said, quickly downing her sample. “It’s delicious.”

“Maybe you’ll dine with us one of these nights,” the waiter said, gesturing to the restaurant not too far away.

Iris smiled. “Maybe.”

Barry led her away where they disposed of their cups but kept the tiny umbrellas. Barry plucked a beautiful, tropical flower off a planted bush and tucked it into his wife’s hair.

“Smooth, Barry Allen.” She smirked when he took a step back after it had been perfected. “Very smooth.”

He shrugged it off with a smile.

“C’mon.”

Iris went with him willingly, tangling their arms together as she pressed her head against his shoulder. They walked on the sidewalk at first but inevitably stepped onto the sand and let the texture sink between their toes in their sandals. It was hot at first, then warm and relaxing.

“This was a great idea, Barry.”

“The walk?”

“The trip.” She smiled.

“It was a last-minute thing, but I needed a reminder.”

“Of what?”

Her brows furrowed.

“That you’re still mine.”

She came to a stop and placed his hand over her heart.

“Hey.” She waited till his eyes met hers. “I’ve always been yours. You have always been and will always be the man that I love. Always.”

The words lifted his spirit with the familiarity of them, and he smiled.

“Tell me, Iris West-Allen.” His arms wrapped around her waist. “Have you always been this amazing?”

“Please, Barry.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “That’s like asking if you’ve always been in love with me.”

He chuckled. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” she informed him, then gestured back towards the beach. “Shall we?”

“We shall.”

They headed further onto the beach, found themselves a renting shack that offered everything possible you might need at the beach. After payment was made, they found themselves settling down at the most picturesque section of the beach in two lounge chairs and a large red umbrella shading them in the sand.

Iris leaned back in her chair, clasping her husband’s hand, and closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of the sea and the comfort of the beach.

“This is nice,” she said, her voice as melodic as the lapping waves.

“Nah,” Barry said, prompting her attention as he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “This is perfect.”

…

It was almost sundown when Nora woke up, drool all over the couch pillows and half her body on the floor.

“Mom?” she mumbled in her drowsy state. “Dad?”

She lifted her head and blinked, intending to see either or both of her parents, but the movement made her lose the little balance she had left, and she tumbled onto the floor.

“Ow.”

No one came running. No one called out to see if she was all right or what happened to cause the sudden thud on the floor.

Summoning her renewed energy, Nora got herself up and looked for any sign of her parents. Of course, the last place she looked was the kitchen, where the post-it had nearly flown off the counter due to her speeding around as she searched. She was relieved to know where they had gone and wondered how long ago they had left this note for her. She was tempted to go back in time to see when exactly but figured it wasn’t the end of the world if she didn’t.

If they had just left, she could wait a half hour or so for them to return. And if they’d left a while ago, she was sure they’d be back any minute now.

The speed rushing through her body with excitement to see them again made it hard to sit still. She needed to do something. She didn’t want to interrupt their alone time, since they had after all let her nap as long as she needed. But she was at a loss for what to do while she awaited their return.

“Think, Nora. Think.”

She paced back and forth for a while, then came to a stop. Her eyes lit up, and she sprung into action. She sped to the house phone and speedily scanned the numbers on the laminated sheet beside it to decide who to call.

“Yes, hi. I’d like to order some food ingredients to make my parents dinner tonight, and… Yes, thank you. I thought it was a genius idea too. Anyway… Yes, I’m a thoughtful daughter, but they deserve it! So.” She sighed inwardly as the person on the other line continued to interrupt her. “Mhmm, yes, but if you could just-”

Nora’s patience grew thin. Debating for a minute just how rude it would be to hang up, she pretended the phone was breaking up and hung up. It was only after the fact that it occurred to her that wasn’t exactly possible on a landline phone.

She shrugged it off, found her cell phone, turned on the wi-fi, and scanned websites until she found the recipe and list of ingredients she needed to make the perfect Balinese meal.

“They’re gonna love it.” She smiled to herself, then headed out the door to go shopping.

…

Another half hour passed by the time Iris found herself roused from an awfully long catnap. The sunset was almost gone, and her husband beside her was out and snoring softly. She smiled and squeezed his hand gently. When he didn’t wake up, she leaned in closer to him and whispered in his ear.

“I think we should head back.”

“Hmm? What?” he asked drowsily, moving around a bit to get more comfortable and then settling in to sleep again.

Iris stifled her laughter.

“Our daughter is going to want to know where we’ve disappeared to.”

“Mmm.”

“We’ve been gone for hours.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s getting late, babe. Aren’t you hungry?”

He opened one eye and turned to look at her, slowly opening the other.

“Oh, I’m hungry, all right.”

He started to lean in, and she put a hand on his chest to stop him just when he was almost within reach of her lips.

“For food,” she clarified. “It’s too late for the other.”

He frowned. “Too late?”

She laughed. “Today, at least.”

“Why today, at least?” he complained. “You wouldn’t let me earlier. Was I supposed to seduce you on a public beach?”

She shook her head, kind of enjoying his extreme disappointment that sex was off the table for the time being.

“Come on.” She pushed herself up off the chair and stood up, picking her sandals up to carry on the way back to the villa. “Nora will be waiting.”

Grumbling the whole way, Barry returned the umbrella and chairs to the renting shack and joined Iris on the now cooled sidewalk, sandals in his hand as well.

“Don’t be grumpy.” She took his hand as they walked back. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later.”

He quick turned to look at her, and she saw the question in his eyes.

“Later this trip,” she amended. “Probably not today though, babe.”

He sighed and did his best not to look disappointed for when they’d return to the villa. That would not be a good look to greet Nora with on arrival. She probably missed them terribly – if she wasn’t still napping. She probably wasn’t still napping. He hoped she wasn’t searching the whole island for them again. Honestly, he didn’t know what to expect. But what he definitely didn’t expect was the heavenly scent that filled his nostrils when he opened the door to the villa and Iris followed him through.

“What is that amazing sme-”

And they both stopped, jaws dropped, as they watched a speeding Nora moving around the kitchen, chopping vegetables, stirring together a salad, cooking something on the stove and in the oven, and making fresh-squeezed juice.

“Oh, hey, guys!” She came to a stop. “Did you have a nice walk?”

Barry and Iris turned to look at each other, then back at Nora.

“You can cook?” They both asked simultaneously.

Nora grinned and nodded.

“How come you’ve never cooked for us before?” Barry asked, walking over to the kitchen area where she was stirring a bowl of something fruity.

“Because Mom was always set on making us food, and then you were set on fixing it.”

Barry guiltily avoided Iris’ glare.

“I always thought I got the cooking gene from Papa Joe, but it’s cool to know I got it from you too, Dad.” She beamed.

Iris approached them cautiously. “It does smell really good, Nora.”

“When will it be ready?” Barry asked, practically salivating.

Iris hit him, but he was unaffected.

Nora giggled. “Ten minutes, Dad. Then we can all eat as a family.”

Iris smiled warmly and shared a tender look with her husband and then her daughter. Perhaps having Nora on this trip with them wouldn’t be so bad after all.

...

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

#westallen #fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #return to paradise #chapter 3

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