#you heard me. that's jaime! in ted's old suit!

[low-quality-comic-characters]

Blue Beetle (2016) #9

Romulo Fajardo Jr.

[pluckyredhead]

Anyway, if you're up for some good old-fashioned Boostle banter and smooching, anything Darkwing Duck, or some found-family fluff with the STAR labs wonder trio (shippy or not) I think that would be delightful.

This turned out less banter-y and more “the beginning of a 30K romcom I’ll never write” but I hope you like it anyway? :D? It’s set in the Rebirth universe, which, if you’re not reading it: Ted is, uh, “mentoring” Jaime (who thinks he’s annoying and wants him to go away) and had a brief superhero career himself, and Booster is...well, he hasn’t been seen in Rebirth yet but I’m assuming he’s still basically the shallow showboater we saw in New 52. Ted throws a little shade at him in passing in a recent issue, it made me smile.

ANYWAY ENJOY (I HOPE):

“Mr. Kord? There’s, uh...somebody here to see you.”

Ted sighed and pressed the speakerphone button. “I thought my schedule was clear for the rest of the afternoon, Connie. I was just about to head down to the lab.” He was already loosening his tie as he spoke. Among other things, being in the lab instead of the office meant not having to wear a monkey suit a second longer than he had to.

More importantly, it meant getting to study whatever the hell was going on with Jaime’s scarab instead of P&L reports, but that wasn’t information he could share with his hardworking staff.

“He doesn’t have an appointment but he’s, um, very insistent.”

Ted frowned. Connie sounded more flustered than alarmed, so the guy couldn’t be too much of a kook - and even if he was, Ted hadn’t forgotten all of his aikido. He was probably just a pushy reporter or job candidate. Ted could handle either of those options quickly enough, and it sounded like he wasn’t getting out the door until he did.

“Fine. Send him in.”

Ted hung up the phone and went back to shutting down his computer, tugging his tie the rest of the way off as he did. He heard the door swing open.

“I’m flattered, but no need to get undressed on my account,” said an amused - and oddly familiar - voice.

Ted glanced over, and then did a cartoonish double take. Standing in the doorway of his office was none other than Booster Gold, the self-promoting laughingstock of the superhero set. There was no mistaking him, even if his face hadn’t been plastered all over every billboard and magazine ad from here to L.A., since he was wearing that ridiculously shiny costume - though the effect was ruined a little by the backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Uh, I, um,” Ted stammered, thrown. “I...can I help you?”

“I certainly hope so,” Gold said, closing the door behind him and taking a seat in the chair opposite Ted’s desk, even though he hadn’t been invited to do either of those things. “I need a favor, Teddy. Can I call you Teddy?”

Ted’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he said.

“Fair enough,” Gold said, unperturbed. “See, I have a little technological problem on my hands, and I think you’re the man to help me with it.”

Ted folded his arms. He was tempted to throw this walking toothpaste ad out on his ear, but heaven help him, he kind of wanted to hear what the guy had to say. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, see, this particular problem has to do with technology from the future. My era. The twenty-fifth century.”

“Right, well, I’m from the twenty-first century, so I’m not sure what qualifies me to work on something you claim won’t be built for four hundred years,” Ted replied.

Gold put on an expression of mock surprise. “What? Where’s the self-confidence, Teddy? Where’s that rulesbreaking young turk of the technocorporate world I read about in Forbes? Aren’t you supposed to be one of the brightest minds of your generation?” He leaned forward. His smile was, Ted was dismayed to realize, even more dazzling in person than on those billboards. Photoshop had told no lies. “After all, you figured out Blue Beetle’s scarab, didn’t you?”

Ted fumbled his attempt to pick up his briefcase. “I...I don’t...I’m not...what?” he asked intelligently.

“Now, here’s what I’ve never understood,” Gold mused. “A kid powered by a magical scarab calling himself the Blue Beetle - that, I get. But you came first, and you didn’t use the scarab. So how’d you get the name?”

Ted gaped for another minute, then slowly closed his jaw and put his shoulders back. Mentally he ran over every power of Booster Gold’s he’d ever heard about on the news. Strength, flight, force field… He’d rather not fight a guy who could fly from his fortieth floor office, but he’d faced worse odds.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I told you,” Gold said. “I need your help.”

“If you think threatening me is the best way to - ”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, that wasn’t a threat!” Gold said, sitting forward and dropping the lazy facade.

“You come in here and tell me you know not just my secrets, but those of people who trust me, and that’s not supposed to be a threat?” Ted asked. “How did you even know? Have you been following me?”

Gold spread his hands. “I’m from the future, remember? It - some things about you - they’re common knowledge.”

Ted blinked. “My...my superhero career will be common knowledge in the future?” That was a surprisingly thrilling thought.

“Ah, no.” Gold rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. “That’s sort of a footnote in most of the biographies. But you’re a landmark inventor. I shouldn’t tell you details, but...”

“Wait, for what? Something with Kord Inc.? Something with the scarab?” Ted asked, then caught himself. Gold could well be making all of this up. “Never mind. Look, what exactly is it you need me to do?”

Gold picked up the backpack he’d left on the floor by his chair and opened it up. Ted took a wary step back, but all Gold did was place something metal on Ted’s desk. It was about the size and shape of a football and as gleamingly gold as the man himself, with three little fins on one end and a darkened black screen on the other.

Gold looked up at Ted, and for the first time since he’d walked in, he looked serious.

“His name’s Skeets,” he said. “He’s my friend. And you’re the only one who can fix him.”