Happy Boostlethon, shananagin!
It's time for your Summer Boostlethon fics! Are you excited? I hope so!
Title: In Demand
Author: eliyes
Recipient: shananagin
Rating: PG or PG-13
Warnings: None!
Summary: Every attempt to go on a date that Ted and Babs have made has been interrupted by some emergency; this one is no exception.
Notes: Takes place before the events of Countdown to Infinite Crisis
The waiter was only just walking away with their menus when Barbara Gordon's cell phone chimed unobtrusively. Across from her, Ted Kord planted his elbows on the table and covered his face with both hands, stifling a groan.
Babs checked the caller display and then grimaced apologetically.
"It's Dinah."
"Take it," he sighed, propping his chin on one fist.
It seemed like all their attempted dates went this way, with one or the other of them getting an emergency call that forced them to cut things short. When one of Kordtronics' R&D labs blew up, Babs was sympathetic. When the JLA had a sudden, urgent need for Oracle's help, Ted was more than understanding. When an extremely apologetic guy named Jean-Paul -- who was, as Ted understood things, sort of Babs's protègè/minion -- called because someone named Zinda was bleeding profusely but refusing medical aid, Ted played taxi driver with the Bug and didn't even complain about the bloodstains. And so on and so forth.
It seemed like they were cursed, honestly. The whole point of dating was to see if this thing between them could go beyond friendship. They clicked on an intellectual level -- that had been how it began, before they even realized who was behind the screennames. But there was more than that. Ted made Babs laugh, something he though she should do more often. He brought her mischevious streak out. And Babs could keep up with Ted when his brain ran away with him -- he never had to dumb things down for her. It was exhilarating.
They both felt a spark of physical attraction smouldering between them, and so they'd dared to wonder if they could be more than just really awesome friends. The advantages of an actual relationship were many. There wouldn't need to be any lies to cover for superhero identities between them. Neither of them was likely to panic if an old enemy showed up. They both knew what it was like to have been untamed justice, swinging down from on high with flying kicks and witty quips -- and then be forced to semi-retirement from all that.
Of course, with that understanding came acceptance of these interruptions to their experiments in romance. They took things as gracefully as they could, but it was getting ...aggravating.
"Hey," Babs said into her phone. Then she let out an explosive sigh and raised her eyes heavenward, saying in a strained voice, "Dinah, there's this thing called Google now --"
Ted had started to play with his napkin, so nearly missed it when Babs shot him a sly look.
"Fortunately for you, I happen to be sitting with someone who's likely to know the inside scoop on the latest developments in the world of robotics," she said, then held her phone out across the table. "She's all yours."
Raising his eyebrows, Ted took the phone.
"Dinah?"
For the next several minutes or more, he fielded a series of really oddly specific questions. The waiter brought bread, wine, and soup while Ted confirmed that he'd heard some fairly entertaining gossip about a pair of roboticists who'd had a huge fight after years of working together (and some said more than just working). Babs watched him try not to dribble food onto her phone. Finally, as the questions increasingly began with "Is it possible that --", Ted decided that enough was enough.
"Anything is possible, as you well know," he told Dinah, exasperated. "We live in a world where superpowered people fly around fighting alien invasions and somehow people like Paris Hilton are big stars. You've met Skeets, and L-Ron! Just, look, do you want to borrow some of my trade journals?" He spotted the waiter approaching again. "Because I can send them over with Babs, but at the moment, I'd like to eat my dinner, please."
Babs smiled at his pointed, "Thank you," and took back her phone, tucking it away with the palm-sized device she'd been surreptitiously playing Scrabble on while Ted was occupied. They said nothing while their soup dishes (and most of Ted's soup) were cleared away and their pasta was served.
When the water finally bustled away, Ted placed his hands flat on the table to either side of his plate and, in his best ha ha only serious voice, told Babs, "I think your friend may be harbouring some kind of escaped, self-aware robot at her place."
Babs laughed, more at how he said it than because of any slim chance that he was wrong.
"She's your friend, too," was all she said.
"She likes you better," he sniffed.
Babs tried to point out that, though they'd been interrupted with a call, neither of them had actually had to leave this time, but Ted shushed her before she finished.
"You'll jinx it," he warned. "Say, did you hear that the Starcrossed movie has been delayed again?"
"Obvious change of topic is obvious," Babs informed him dryly, spearing a shrimp off Ted's plate. "And yes, I had. Something to do with one of the financial backers getting hit with a discrimination lawsuit?"
They talked all through dinner, the conversation wandering through a diverse array of topics, but skirting around "work-related" things. The familiarity and ease of just chatting melted away all nervousness about this whole dating thing, and flirting started to come naturally. By the time they were finishing their gelato, Babs was giving Ted a truly smouldering look over her glasses while he leered comically back. They were being funny, but they meant it, too.
As they waited for the waiter to bring the bill, Ted lifted his water glass.
"A toast! To finishing a date, for once."
"Hear hear!" Babs replied, and they clinked their drinks together.
The sound hadn't even had time to fade when Booster Gold suddenly flew into the restaurant, over the heads of the startled maître d' and the folks he was greeting. The gold-and-blue-clad superhero went straight for the table where his old partner (and still best friend) was sitting. To Ted's very great surprise, Booster lifted him up and practically flung him onto Barbara, rocking her chair back despite the brake. To make matters worse, Booster immediately took up a hovering position right above the pair of them.
He got the force shield around them a bare instant before the ceiling exploded with ninjas.
Well, probably not real ninjas, since most self-respecting ninjas wouldn't wear that particular hideous combination of raspberry and chartreuse, to say nothing of attacking en masse in the middle of a crowded restaurant. When one of them yelled, "There he is! That's Kord!", with a distinct Western twang to his voice, it cinched them as definitely not your normal ninjas.
"Looks like they're after me," Ted murmured next to Babs's ear, as Booster fired energy blasts overhead and the restaurant's patrons and staff created a chaotic cacaphony in their attempts to escape the carnage.
"Must be your sparkling wit," Babs murmured right back. "There's still too many people in here to risk revealing ourselves."
"Yeah. Can you reach your brake? I can call Bug for an emergency retrieval -- people won't blink twice at Blue Beetle apparently working with Booster to 'rescue' us."
"I don't think the roof is secure -- windows?"
Ted nodded. "On three?"
They were only at "two" when they were unexpectedly enveloped in a bubble of glowing green energy.
"Guy?!" Ted asked, surprised.
"No," Babs corrected, releasing her brake anyway and nodding to something over Ted's shoulder. "The original GL."
He twisted, and sure enough there was Alan Scott, dressed even more garishly than the not-ninjas, and clashing horribly with them besides. His calm voice reached them, telling them not to worry, they would be safe while this was taken care of.
"Great," Babs said, sarcastic. She hated being cast as the damsel in distress. Meanwhile, Ted was watching the fight, trying to figure out who was after him, and how in blazes Booster managed to team up with one of the most notoriously uptight members of the JSA.
Suddenly, Ted recalled that he was basically sitting in Barbara's lap, and moved to extricate hiself, an apology on his lips -- but she wrapped her arms around him so he couldn't get up, and he found himself tongue-tied.
"I think you're just fine where you are," Babs said consideringly.
"Is that so?" He cleared his throat. "Funny, I think you're fine wherever you are."
She smiled, and he relaxed against her some.
"Since it looks like there's nothing we can do --"
"Ted."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
Their lips met. Whether the Earth moved or fireworks metaphorically exploded, they couldn't later say, exactly -- but when the cops arrived, they were kissing still, while Booster looked on with a grin and Alan politely occupied himself in setting the furniture to rights.
Not bad for a seventh date.
Title: In Demand
Author: eliyes
Recipient: shananagin
Rating: PG or PG-13
Warnings: None!
Summary: Every attempt to go on a date that Ted and Babs have made has been interrupted by some emergency; this one is no exception.
Notes: Takes place before the events of Countdown to Infinite Crisis
The waiter was only just walking away with their menus when Barbara Gordon's cell phone chimed unobtrusively. Across from her, Ted Kord planted his elbows on the table and covered his face with both hands, stifling a groan.
Babs checked the caller display and then grimaced apologetically.
"It's Dinah."
"Take it," he sighed, propping his chin on one fist.
It seemed like all their attempted dates went this way, with one or the other of them getting an emergency call that forced them to cut things short. When one of Kordtronics' R&D labs blew up, Babs was sympathetic. When the JLA had a sudden, urgent need for Oracle's help, Ted was more than understanding. When an extremely apologetic guy named Jean-Paul -- who was, as Ted understood things, sort of Babs's protègè/minion -- called because someone named Zinda was bleeding profusely but refusing medical aid, Ted played taxi driver with the Bug and didn't even complain about the bloodstains. And so on and so forth.
It seemed like they were cursed, honestly. The whole point of dating was to see if this thing between them could go beyond friendship. They clicked on an intellectual level -- that had been how it began, before they even realized who was behind the screennames. But there was more than that. Ted made Babs laugh, something he though she should do more often. He brought her mischevious streak out. And Babs could keep up with Ted when his brain ran away with him -- he never had to dumb things down for her. It was exhilarating.
They both felt a spark of physical attraction smouldering between them, and so they'd dared to wonder if they could be more than just really awesome friends. The advantages of an actual relationship were many. There wouldn't need to be any lies to cover for superhero identities between them. Neither of them was likely to panic if an old enemy showed up. They both knew what it was like to have been untamed justice, swinging down from on high with flying kicks and witty quips -- and then be forced to semi-retirement from all that.
Of course, with that understanding came acceptance of these interruptions to their experiments in romance. They took things as gracefully as they could, but it was getting ...aggravating.
"Hey," Babs said into her phone. Then she let out an explosive sigh and raised her eyes heavenward, saying in a strained voice, "Dinah, there's this thing called Google now --"
Ted had started to play with his napkin, so nearly missed it when Babs shot him a sly look.
"Fortunately for you, I happen to be sitting with someone who's likely to know the inside scoop on the latest developments in the world of robotics," she said, then held her phone out across the table. "She's all yours."
Raising his eyebrows, Ted took the phone.
"Dinah?"
For the next several minutes or more, he fielded a series of really oddly specific questions. The waiter brought bread, wine, and soup while Ted confirmed that he'd heard some fairly entertaining gossip about a pair of roboticists who'd had a huge fight after years of working together (and some said more than just working). Babs watched him try not to dribble food onto her phone. Finally, as the questions increasingly began with "Is it possible that --", Ted decided that enough was enough.
"Anything is possible, as you well know," he told Dinah, exasperated. "We live in a world where superpowered people fly around fighting alien invasions and somehow people like Paris Hilton are big stars. You've met Skeets, and L-Ron! Just, look, do you want to borrow some of my trade journals?" He spotted the waiter approaching again. "Because I can send them over with Babs, but at the moment, I'd like to eat my dinner, please."
Babs smiled at his pointed, "Thank you," and took back her phone, tucking it away with the palm-sized device she'd been surreptitiously playing Scrabble on while Ted was occupied. They said nothing while their soup dishes (and most of Ted's soup) were cleared away and their pasta was served.
When the water finally bustled away, Ted placed his hands flat on the table to either side of his plate and, in his best ha ha only serious voice, told Babs, "I think your friend may be harbouring some kind of escaped, self-aware robot at her place."
Babs laughed, more at how he said it than because of any slim chance that he was wrong.
"She's your friend, too," was all she said.
"She likes you better," he sniffed.
Babs tried to point out that, though they'd been interrupted with a call, neither of them had actually had to leave this time, but Ted shushed her before she finished.
"You'll jinx it," he warned. "Say, did you hear that the Starcrossed movie has been delayed again?"
"Obvious change of topic is obvious," Babs informed him dryly, spearing a shrimp off Ted's plate. "And yes, I had. Something to do with one of the financial backers getting hit with a discrimination lawsuit?"
They talked all through dinner, the conversation wandering through a diverse array of topics, but skirting around "work-related" things. The familiarity and ease of just chatting melted away all nervousness about this whole dating thing, and flirting started to come naturally. By the time they were finishing their gelato, Babs was giving Ted a truly smouldering look over her glasses while he leered comically back. They were being funny, but they meant it, too.
As they waited for the waiter to bring the bill, Ted lifted his water glass.
"A toast! To finishing a date, for once."
"Hear hear!" Babs replied, and they clinked their drinks together.
The sound hadn't even had time to fade when Booster Gold suddenly flew into the restaurant, over the heads of the startled maître d' and the folks he was greeting. The gold-and-blue-clad superhero went straight for the table where his old partner (and still best friend) was sitting. To Ted's very great surprise, Booster lifted him up and practically flung him onto Barbara, rocking her chair back despite the brake. To make matters worse, Booster immediately took up a hovering position right above the pair of them.
He got the force shield around them a bare instant before the ceiling exploded with ninjas.
Well, probably not real ninjas, since most self-respecting ninjas wouldn't wear that particular hideous combination of raspberry and chartreuse, to say nothing of attacking en masse in the middle of a crowded restaurant. When one of them yelled, "There he is! That's Kord!", with a distinct Western twang to his voice, it cinched them as definitely not your normal ninjas.
"Looks like they're after me," Ted murmured next to Babs's ear, as Booster fired energy blasts overhead and the restaurant's patrons and staff created a chaotic cacaphony in their attempts to escape the carnage.
"Must be your sparkling wit," Babs murmured right back. "There's still too many people in here to risk revealing ourselves."
"Yeah. Can you reach your brake? I can call Bug for an emergency retrieval -- people won't blink twice at Blue Beetle apparently working with Booster to 'rescue' us."
"I don't think the roof is secure -- windows?"
Ted nodded. "On three?"
They were only at "two" when they were unexpectedly enveloped in a bubble of glowing green energy.
"Guy?!" Ted asked, surprised.
"No," Babs corrected, releasing her brake anyway and nodding to something over Ted's shoulder. "The original GL."
He twisted, and sure enough there was Alan Scott, dressed even more garishly than the not-ninjas, and clashing horribly with them besides. His calm voice reached them, telling them not to worry, they would be safe while this was taken care of.
"Great," Babs said, sarcastic. She hated being cast as the damsel in distress. Meanwhile, Ted was watching the fight, trying to figure out who was after him, and how in blazes Booster managed to team up with one of the most notoriously uptight members of the JSA.
Suddenly, Ted recalled that he was basically sitting in Barbara's lap, and moved to extricate hiself, an apology on his lips -- but she wrapped her arms around him so he couldn't get up, and he found himself tongue-tied.
"I think you're just fine where you are," Babs said consideringly.
"Is that so?" He cleared his throat. "Funny, I think you're fine wherever you are."
She smiled, and he relaxed against her some.
"Since it looks like there's nothing we can do --"
"Ted."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and kiss me."
Their lips met. Whether the Earth moved or fireworks metaphorically exploded, they couldn't later say, exactly -- but when the cops arrived, they were kissing still, while Booster looked on with a grin and Alan politely occupied himself in setting the furniture to rights.
Not bad for a seventh date.