Fic: Cry Little Sister [9/?]
Title: Cry, Little Sister [9/?]
Characters: Artemis, M'gann, ensemble
Pairings: Some Artemis/Wally and Megan/Conner
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: References to illegal genetic experimentation, assassins, violence, spoilers for entire series (so far). Also follows the assumption that Megan is a white Martian.
Summary: A series AU. Artemis is another Cadmus experiment, released by Dubbilex into M'gann's care.
Part 9: Downtime: M'gann and Artemis spend time in the kitchen.
August 27th
“Why are we doing this again?” Artemis sighed, glancing at the cluttered counter with distaste. M’gann gave her an affronted look.
“Because, we shouldn’t make the League always take care of us! Besides.” M’gann beamed, waving her arms enthusiastically and accidentally throwing flour across the floor. “It’ll be fun!”
“Fun,” Artemis scoffed. Going on missions was fun. Beating up bad guys was fun. Heckling Wally was fun. Standing in the kitchen and attempting to cook an edible dinner was not.
“Yes. Fun.” M’gann shoved a bowl into her chest, forcing her to awkwardly catch it. “Now mix.”
“Aye aye,” Artemis drawled. She glanced down at a pile of flour and other ingredients she couldn’t recognize. “What are we making, anyway?”
“I’ve been baking, so I thought we could try pizza.” M’gann opened the refrigerator, squatting down to look for ingredients. “Are there any toppings you like?”
Artemis had only had pizza once and she’d found the experience immensely enjoyable despite the evils of piping hot tomato sauce. Wally and Robin had been horrified to learn she’d never had any before and proceeded to order five different pies with various toppings, all charged on the League’s bill. Batman had not been happy.
“I liked the pineapple and ham,” Artemis recalled. “Pepperoni was good too, and the vegetables wasn’t that bad.”
“We have ham and some bacon,” M’gann offered. She glanced over and demanded, “Mix!”
“Make the boy of steel do it.” Artemis groaned, very slowly attempting to churn the contents of the bowl. “This stuff is really thick.”
“You’re right,” M’gann muttered, apparently not hearing Artemis’s complaint. “We should invite Superboy to help. He needs to interact with others, it’ll help his emotional development.”
“You sound like a scientist,” Artemis commented. M’gann glared. “Don’t give me that look, you’re being weird and mothering. I mean,” she amended, ignoring M’gann’s glower, “more than usual.”
“It’s just that…” M’gann shut the refrigerator door and slid to the floor with a sigh. “Everyone’s gone home with their families. Uncle J’onn can always visit me, and you have your little friend, but Superboy…” M’gann bit her lip. “He’s all alone.”
“We’re all alone.” Artemis set the unmixed bowl down on the counter. “People are overrated.”
“You’re such a cynic,” M’gann groaned. Artemis raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so bad?”
M’gann gave her a look. “No one should be alone. Not when they don’t have to be.”
“Some of us don’t get that choice,” Artemis pointed out. “Some of us are made to be alone.” Like her. Like her brother.
M’gann seemed to know her thoughts despite the no-telepathy rule. She looked down and bit her lip like she was going to cry, forehead creasing. It was mindboggling how upset the Martian could be on someone else’s behalf.
“Are you going to cry?”
“No,” M’gann muttered, most definitely about to cry. Artemis groaned, knowing what she had to do.
“Are you like, brainwashing me or something?” she demanded. M’gann looked up with her with wide, shocked eyes. Artemis ignored her to glare over at the living room. The back of Superboy’s head stood out against the background of the blank TV; he hadn’t moved an inch since he sat down half an hour ago.
“Hey, Supes!” she shouted. M’gann got up, frantically shaking her head. “Want me to turn the TV on?”
“No,” was the dull reply. Artemis sighed.
“Want to make dinner with ussh -” M’gann slapped her hand over Artemis’s mouth, a little too hard in her haste. But Superboy was getting up, looking directly at them. Artemis watched M’gann’s green face quietly flush into a perfect tomato red.
She removed M’gann’s hand and elbowed her, gesturing hurriedly at their teammate. M’gann swallowed.
“D-do you want to help us make dinner?” she squeaked. Superboy blinked.
“No,” he repeated, but he was walking over anyway. Artemis gave M’gann a triumphant sneer; M’gann looked torn between delight and horror.
She was still in her mildly catatonic state when Superboy reached the kitchen area. Artemis took advantage of the opportunity and slapped her troublesome bowl into Superboy’s hands.
“Mix.”
Characters: Artemis, M'gann, ensemble
Pairings: Some Artemis/Wally and Megan/Conner
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: References to illegal genetic experimentation, assassins, violence, spoilers for entire series (so far). Also follows the assumption that Megan is a white Martian.
Summary: A series AU. Artemis is another Cadmus experiment, released by Dubbilex into M'gann's care.
Part 9: Downtime: M'gann and Artemis spend time in the kitchen.
August 27th
“Why are we doing this again?” Artemis sighed, glancing at the cluttered counter with distaste. M’gann gave her an affronted look.
“Because, we shouldn’t make the League always take care of us! Besides.” M’gann beamed, waving her arms enthusiastically and accidentally throwing flour across the floor. “It’ll be fun!”
“Fun,” Artemis scoffed. Going on missions was fun. Beating up bad guys was fun. Heckling Wally was fun. Standing in the kitchen and attempting to cook an edible dinner was not.
“Yes. Fun.” M’gann shoved a bowl into her chest, forcing her to awkwardly catch it. “Now mix.”
“Aye aye,” Artemis drawled. She glanced down at a pile of flour and other ingredients she couldn’t recognize. “What are we making, anyway?”
“I’ve been baking, so I thought we could try pizza.” M’gann opened the refrigerator, squatting down to look for ingredients. “Are there any toppings you like?”
Artemis had only had pizza once and she’d found the experience immensely enjoyable despite the evils of piping hot tomato sauce. Wally and Robin had been horrified to learn she’d never had any before and proceeded to order five different pies with various toppings, all charged on the League’s bill. Batman had not been happy.
“I liked the pineapple and ham,” Artemis recalled. “Pepperoni was good too, and the vegetables wasn’t that bad.”
“We have ham and some bacon,” M’gann offered. She glanced over and demanded, “Mix!”
“Make the boy of steel do it.” Artemis groaned, very slowly attempting to churn the contents of the bowl. “This stuff is really thick.”
“You’re right,” M’gann muttered, apparently not hearing Artemis’s complaint. “We should invite Superboy to help. He needs to interact with others, it’ll help his emotional development.”
“You sound like a scientist,” Artemis commented. M’gann glared. “Don’t give me that look, you’re being weird and mothering. I mean,” she amended, ignoring M’gann’s glower, “more than usual.”
“It’s just that…” M’gann shut the refrigerator door and slid to the floor with a sigh. “Everyone’s gone home with their families. Uncle J’onn can always visit me, and you have your little friend, but Superboy…” M’gann bit her lip. “He’s all alone.”
“We’re all alone.” Artemis set the unmixed bowl down on the counter. “People are overrated.”
“You’re such a cynic,” M’gann groaned. Artemis raised an eyebrow.
“Is that so bad?”
M’gann gave her a look. “No one should be alone. Not when they don’t have to be.”
“Some of us don’t get that choice,” Artemis pointed out. “Some of us are made to be alone.” Like her. Like her brother.
M’gann seemed to know her thoughts despite the no-telepathy rule. She looked down and bit her lip like she was going to cry, forehead creasing. It was mindboggling how upset the Martian could be on someone else’s behalf.
“Are you going to cry?”
“No,” M’gann muttered, most definitely about to cry. Artemis groaned, knowing what she had to do.
“Are you like, brainwashing me or something?” she demanded. M’gann looked up with her with wide, shocked eyes. Artemis ignored her to glare over at the living room. The back of Superboy’s head stood out against the background of the blank TV; he hadn’t moved an inch since he sat down half an hour ago.
“Hey, Supes!” she shouted. M’gann got up, frantically shaking her head. “Want me to turn the TV on?”
“No,” was the dull reply. Artemis sighed.
“Want to make dinner with ussh -” M’gann slapped her hand over Artemis’s mouth, a little too hard in her haste. But Superboy was getting up, looking directly at them. Artemis watched M’gann’s green face quietly flush into a perfect tomato red.
She removed M’gann’s hand and elbowed her, gesturing hurriedly at their teammate. M’gann swallowed.
“D-do you want to help us make dinner?” she squeaked. Superboy blinked.
“No,” he repeated, but he was walking over anyway. Artemis gave M’gann a triumphant sneer; M’gann looked torn between delight and horror.
She was still in her mildly catatonic state when Superboy reached the kitchen area. Artemis took advantage of the opportunity and slapped her troublesome bowl into Superboy’s hands.
“Mix.”