Because June is too goddamn far away, that's why
Title: Thumbtacks and Colored Yarn
Fandom: Young Justice
Characters/Pairing: Team OT6, Red Tornado, Batman
Rating: PG-13/R
Word Count: 3,325
Summary: Five times Red Tornado bore witness to his charges having discovered polyamory, and one time he did something about it.
A/N: For the purposes of this fic, assume that the team has been together for a few years (such that Robin is legal in Rhode Island). Also, I wrote this because this fandom needs more of two things immediately: one, team orgy, and two, Red Tornado being great. I sought to rectify these issues. ...Oh, and you know how people sometimes diagram complex connections via the use of thumbtacks and corkboard and string? That's the title. Yes.
It was exactly four past midnight when Red Tornado heard noises coming from the kitchen. Distinctly humanoid noises, at that; ones that involved opening and closing freezer doors and rummaging about in silverware drawers. Red Tornado was certain Mount Justice's weekday curfew was 10pm. He was equally certain that he had, on more than one occasion, informed his charges of this fact, and that he had enforced it himself just two hours and some minutes ago.
The facts, as he understood them, were thus: It was past curfew, and at least one person under his direction was in violation.
By the time he made his way to the hallway leading into the kitchen, the perpetrator was already on their way back to meet him.
He waited. Shortly, Artemis came around the corner, eyes fixed on what appeared to be a bowl of ice cream as she scooped up a spoonful and lifted it to her mouth. Her line of sight rose to meet him just before the spoon reached her lips, and she stopped with a jolt. "Oh! Oh my god," she blurted.
Red Tornado could not help but notice that Artemis was wearing nothing but panties and a usefully Godiva-like cascade of unbound hair. Given the human propensity to remain fully clothed in public at all times, it would have been difficult not to notice.
"I didn't, um," Artemis stammered, staring up at him with wide eyes. "I forgot you were still…"
There was an awkward pause. Red Tornado noted that Artemis's underwear were pink, with a bow. He wouldn't have thought her the type. Eventually, Artemis closed her mouth, tucked her ice cream up to her chest, and power-walked past him and into a nearby bedroom.
Aqualad's bedroom, Red Tornado realized.
He waited until the door slammed, until a voice - Kid Flash - protested, "Aww, you didn't bring any for us?" and until he heard Artemis's hissed response of "Shut up!" before dutifully moving along.
Red Tornado elected, for the sake of propriety, to wait until morning for the reprimand regarding curfew violation.
---
Red Tornado flipped on the control room's monitor for a nightly inspection of the base. He allowed the cameras in each area of Mount Justice to display their views across the screen in circulation twice before switching to manual and searching for life signs. He wouldn't ordinarily bother, but Batman had asked him to monitor the team for "suspicious activity".
The problem, of course, was that Batman had neglected to define his idea of 'suspicious'.
Everyone seemed to be functioning within normal parameters as far as Red Tornado could tell, but he paused the monitor's cycle on the view of the living area - the only area, according to inspection, that contained more than one member of the team.
Aqualad was lying on the sofa with one leg pulled up to prop his book against his knee; the other leg was stretched out so that his foot was in Miss Martian's lap. Robin was sprawled all over the other sofa, remote control in hand.
"Your toes are funny," Miss Martian remarked, after a moment. She had one hand on Aqualad's ankle and was inspecting his foot with obvious interest.
Robin snickered, the sound tinny yet distinctive over the speakers. Aqualad looked up briefly, mouth and eyebrows quirking in an expression Red Tornado would characterize as bemusement. "The webbing helps me swim," he explained.
"Hm?" said Miss Martian. "Oh, no - they're like Conner's; all the same length. See?" She ran a finger over the top of Aqualad's foot. He twitched, then curled and uncurled his toes once. Robin leaned up on one arm to look. "Is it only humans who have curved toes?" She traced a finger through the air in an arc that described the way a human's toes would ascend and descend in length.
"I do not know," Aqualad admitted, examining his own foot with evident curiosity.
Robin had returned to his former, disorderly position on the sofa, eyes fixed once more on the television. "It's because of shoes," he said. "Shoes aren't made to fit feet; it's the other way around. Humans are born with straight toes too. They wear shoes shaped to cram their toes together from the time they're little, and their feet grow to match. Kaldur didn't grow up wearing shoes, and - heh, I guess Conner didn't either. Besides, he has indestructible toes." He snickered again.
"Oh," said Aqualad and Miss Martian in unison, both of them staring at Aqualad's foot in fascination. There was a thoughtful pause, and Miss Martian visibly brightened. "Like the other thing you and Conner have that some human males don't!"
The reference escaped Red Tornado, but Aqualad looked suddenly, deeply embarrassed, and Robin nearly fell off the couch in hysterics. Aqualad mumbled something into his book that Red Tornado couldn't quite catch over the speakers, and Miss Martian grinned.
"You guys are dorks," Robin declared, as his fit of laughter came to its end. He hit a button on the remote and tossed it onto the sofa before standing and pulling his arms above his head. "I'm headed back to my room." He walked away, pausing only minutely to squeeze Aqualad's calf, and it wasn't until he had disappeared from the camera's range that his voice drifted back with an addendum: "If anyone wants to join me…"
Miss Martian smiled at him over her shoulder. "Kaldur?" she asked, turning back.
"Perhaps later," he told her, returning the smile, and lifted his book, presumably to indicate that he was occupied.
"Okay," said Miss Martian. She crawled up the length of Aqualad's body to kiss him on the lips and lingered a moment before standing to follow Robin from the room. Aqualad smiled briefly after them before returning to his book.
Red Tornado switched to the outside cameras to inspect the grounds and wondered if any of that counted as suspicious.
---
The pool wasn't going to clean itself. In point of fact, the pool was designed to clean itself, but the mechanism was in a severe state of disrepair after last weekend's attempt at the temporary containment of a rampaging aquatic beast, so for the foreseeable future, it wasn't going to.
Red Tornado was going to. Because someone had to, and Aqualad would be home in Atlantis for the next few days, and everyone else, when confronted with the pool's condition, had made hasty excuses or claimed higher responsibilities or "forgotten".
Being both an artificial life form and intrinsically motivated toward the health and wellbeing of the planet gave one a sense of unflappable inner peace, Red Tornado had found; a rational calm that evoked comparisons to someone called Mr. Spock from his younger charges. Nonetheless, he found himself trapped in a particular line of thinking as he skimmed the pool: He was a longstanding member of the Justice League. He was a champion of ecology and humanity alike. He was respected by his peers, feared by his enemies, and loved by civilians everywhere. He had participated in countless successful endeavors to save the world. And he was dredging bacterial buildup from the surface of a swimming pool so as not to interfere on today's airing of Grey's Anatomy.
He really did have a heart. Robin had run the diagnostic himself, and was currently playing Fallout. Red Tornado idly considered installing a subroutine that would allow him to sigh expressively.
Red Tornado's reverie was interrupted by the sounds of approaching feet; one pair heavy, measured, somewhat cautious; the other jogging - seemingly back and forth, frantic, as though the other person weren't keeping adequate pace. "Come on," said one voice; that was Kid Flash, and he sounded urgent and more hushed than his usually brazen volumes. "Nobody's back here this time of day. I promise."
"I still don't get why we couldn't go to your room," responded the other; Superboy. He sounded sullen and cautious, which could mean that the pair were up to something, or not. Either was likely.
"It's better this way," Kid Flash responded, a wicked grin in his voice that was starkly audible even though the pair had come to a halt around the corner, just far enough that if Red Tornado turned, he wouldn't be able to see them. "More exciting."
"It is?" Superboy sounded doubtful.
There was a rustling of cloth, and Superboy exhaled, the pitch of his breath changing. Kid Flash snickered. "You know; it’s dangerous. We could get caught."
"Then we shouldn't--"
"I told you, we won't get caught. But we could." A creak like rubber soles flexing and then a wet sound, lingering and punctuated by a loud smack. "You gotta learn to appreciate a thrill, Conner."
Red Tornado emptied his net as Superboy hesitated. "But…all I'll be able to think about is…someone walking in on us."
"Come on," Kid Flash laughed, "what would they even say? Batman and Black Canary went home for the day. Besides," and his voice dropped in pitch, "I'll make you forget."
There was an even longer hesitation as Red Tornado made another sweep of the surface; more sounds of cloth shifting and several deep, careful breaths. "Okay," Superboy said at last, grudgingly.
Another wet sound, and this time one of them - that sounded like Superboy, but Red Tornado wasn't positive - made a soft noise, and Kid Flash murmured, "Great. Don't worry about it, big guy; I'll take good care of you."
There was the repetitive click of a zipper being eased down, slowly, and Red Tornado could hear the exact moment when Kid Flash dropped to his knees.
Red Tornado mused over the time that he'd single-handedly evacuated a small island nation and sealed off the worst of the volcanic eruption before it could spread to destroy major towns. He didn't think that any of the tearfully happy islanders would have asked him to clean a pool and listen to adolescents perform oral sex.
The pool was clean by the time Red Tornado heard the zipper go back up. He put up the net and wondered why it was that everything humans did for fun seemed so wet, and decided that he should make his presence known now lest the two of them move on to other activities right there in the hallway.
When he rounded the corner, Kid Flash was still on his knees, hands framing Superboy's hips as the larger boy recovered. Kid Flash was looking up at him, halfway through an inquiry, when he stopped dead and whirled so fast that he toppled and landed on his backside. Superboy likewise shuffled back along the wall at top speeds; the pair stared at him, eyes impractically wide, mouths agape.
Red Tornado surveyed them momentarily. Superboy's face was roughly the color of his own, and Kid Flash was working his mouth in apparent shock. A mouth that was, Red Tornado noted, flushed, swollen, and sticky-wet in appearance; Red Tornado turned and walked away, pondering the oddities of human biology.
"Wh-why didn't you tell me he was back there!?" Kid Flash erupted, as soon as the pair were out of sight. "You have super hearing!"
"I was distracted!" Superboy shot back. "And I thought you wanted to get caught!"
"Oh my god," Kid Flash moaned. "Why didn't we get you into porn before we started banging you…"
Yet more data for a growing collection of peculiarities, Red Tornado supposed.
---
The most puzzling thing was when the hiding stopped.
After the initial round of discoveries, the team spent weeks in secrecy. Red Tornado knew from the cameras that the - incidents, he'd taken to thinking of them, hadn't ceased, but things were…different. The team took to avoiding him, cutting all contact that wasn't mandatory. They were careful to keep a safe distance from each other when he was in the room. They became suspiciously adept at keeping curfew.
It lasted for some time, and then…stopped.
Everything returned to normal. The team resumed speaking with him normally (something that Red Tornado was almost but not quite surprised to find out that he had missed) and could be caught sneaking about the base at all hours of the night, and their contact with each other was…increased. Quite a bit, in fact. Not only were they no longer making a concerted effort to avoid being caught, they weren't even keeping their…relationship behind closed doors.
After they stopped hiding, Red Tornado began to see things. He saw Miss Martian feed Superboy a taste of cake icing from the end of her finger; he saw Robin scrape bare fingers through Kid Flash's hair after a particularly difficult mission, scratching over his scalp before his palm came to rest at the back of the other boy's neck; he saw Artemis on Aqualad's lap during a movie marathon, her thumb stroking the inside of his wrist. He saw Miss Martian giggling as Artemis taught her to waltz in the training room after hours, all smiles and whispered direction, and everything seemed to come full circle in a way Red Tornado didn't fully understand.
It perplexed him. Perhaps they'd determined that if Red Tornado hadn't yet informed Batman or the League about their - their relationship, he must not be planning to ever do so. Perhaps they'd become defiant, in typical teenage fashion; perhaps they'd decided that they didn't care what Red Tornado, or possibly anyone else, thought.
Perhaps they trusted him, now.
---
Red Tornado was running a full systems diagnostic when he heard the news, and promptly decided that it could wait.
Miss Martian seemed oddly small in a way Red Tornado had never noticed before, lying still and silent in her infirmary bed. Small enough that her lifeless hand was engulfed by the mass of Superboy's palm as he sat watchful at her bedside; small enough that Artemis could tuck herself up to the other girl's side and wrap a protective arm around her waist. At the other side of the bed sat Robin, dozing fitfully in a chair he had dragged up close so that he could rest one arm on Miss Martian's bed. Kid Flash, for the most part, paced the hall at lightning speed, zipping in on every other pass to hover over the Martian girl and twitch his hands as though he wanted to touch her but didn't dare. Aqualad simply stood over her, arms crossed, face set in grim and sorrowful lines.
Red Tornado felt as though he were intruding simply by entering the room. No one looked up when he came in.
No one looked up when Batman came in, either, although Robin shook himself from slumber at a deeply ingrained attunement and turned slightly further toward the infirmary bed. On his next pass, Kid Flash stopped at Robin's side and squeezed the other boy's shoulder.
Batman watched. They all made quite a picture, Red Tornado thought, but not necessarily an incriminating one; he knew that it was natural for humans to seek closeness and physical comfort in times of stress, often from friends. It didn't have to mean anything complex. Still, Batman was - well, the Batman, and Red Tornado examined the man's face as he examined the scene before them, waiting.
Batman's eyes narrowed, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He knew. He knew, and was gone with a soundless swirl of his cape.
Red Tornado stopped for a brief talk with the doctor - they'd stabilized Miss Martian's condition and could only wait, now - and traded posts with Black Canary, who seemed uncharacteristically aged.
He was passing the briefing room when Batman appeared. "How long has this been going on?" he greeted, and Red Tornado had a brief moment to consider the absurdity of his life - not in any grand existential sense, or even in any sense regarding teenagers, for the first time in a long time, but rather the fundamental silliness that came of standing in front of a man on whom he had half an inch and several lifetimes and feeling as though he'd been dragged for judgment before a stern father he'd never had.
"Data is inconclusive," Red Tornado responded, honestly, "but I found out four months ago."
The muscle in Batman's jaw clenched again. "I was never informed."
"No," said Red Tornado. He didn't suppose he had been.
"I asked you," Batman said slowly, in a tone that betrayed no emotion, "to notify me of any suspicious behavior."
Red Tornado had seldom been interrogated via so few actual questions. "You neglected to define what you would consider suspicious," said Red Tornado, and concluded that he was going to be seeing a lot of aggravated jaw muscle this evening. "Had I known that the team's recent behavior qualified, I would have informed you immediately. Nothing they have done indicates that the situation is out of the ordinary."
Batman looked as though he badly wanted to repeat the last half of that sentence in an incredulously startled tone of voice, as humans sometimes did, but he restrained himself. "What exactly is the situation, Tornado?"
Red Tornado thought about that. He had been thinking about it for months, but when framed in simple terms that demanded a concise answer… "My observations imply that all six members of the team are involved in a romantic relationship with each other."
"Imply," Batman repeated, deadpan.
"Strongly imply," said Red Tornado.
Batman took a breath, held it, and let it out. "For future reference, I would consider such observations suspicious."
"You suspected," said Red Tornado. It wasn't a question.
"There were hints."
"And now?"
Batman exhaled audibly. "Obviously, this can't be allowed to continue."
Red Tornado…hadn't quite been expecting that. He wasn't sure why he hadn't been expecting it, exactly. "They are happy," he pointed out, because he'd been led to believe that was why humans did these things. He thought it was the entire idea.
He thought Batman may have blinked under the cowl. "The object isn't to make them unhappy. My concern is with the health of the team."
"Their relationship would impair team dynamics?"
"It's possible. Relationships with teammates often lead to trouble, particularly…unconventional ones such as this. It indicates an unhealthy codependence, and possibly a distorted worldview due to the young age at which their working arrangement was developed."
Red Tornado realized that it would be uncharitable and far out of line to point out the irony in Batman psychoanalyzing anyone, so he didn't. "Nothing I have observed indicates any problems," he said instead. "Black Canary has not reported any concerns to me, either. Has their mission performance been sub-par?"
Batman watched him for a long time in silence. "No," he eventually admitted.
"Have you observed any deterioration in their focus, commitment, or efficiency? Has Robin exhibited any symptoms of psychological harm?"
The pause this time was even longer. "No."
"My observations have led me to believe that the team's relationship has been helpful in establishing increased communication and improved cooperation," Red Tornado pointed out, truthfully. "In my opinion, forcing them apart would reverse those effects, potentially driving a wedge between them, and almost certainly between them and us. I also believe that it would make all of them thoroughly, and unnecessarily, unhappy."
Batman looked at him for a long time; the muscle in his jaw worked, and Red Tornado almost thought he saw the man's hands move underneath his cape. "I'll take your opinion under advisement," he said shortly, and was gone.
Red Tornado was relatively certain that there would be no more talk of forcibly separating the team.
---
Miss Martian made a slow but steady recovery, and Red Tornado didn't question any of the team's doting, careful supervision, waiting hand and foot, and constant attention that continued until Miss Martian became embarrassed and insisted that everyone ease off a bit on the condition that she promise not to die while they weren't looking.
Batman didn't question it, either.
Fandom: Young Justice
Characters/Pairing: Team OT6, Red Tornado, Batman
Rating: PG-13/R
Word Count: 3,325
Summary: Five times Red Tornado bore witness to his charges having discovered polyamory, and one time he did something about it.
A/N: For the purposes of this fic, assume that the team has been together for a few years (such that Robin is legal in Rhode Island). Also, I wrote this because this fandom needs more of two things immediately: one, team orgy, and two, Red Tornado being great. I sought to rectify these issues. ...Oh, and you know how people sometimes diagram complex connections via the use of thumbtacks and corkboard and string? That's the title. Yes.
It was exactly four past midnight when Red Tornado heard noises coming from the kitchen. Distinctly humanoid noises, at that; ones that involved opening and closing freezer doors and rummaging about in silverware drawers. Red Tornado was certain Mount Justice's weekday curfew was 10pm. He was equally certain that he had, on more than one occasion, informed his charges of this fact, and that he had enforced it himself just two hours and some minutes ago.
The facts, as he understood them, were thus: It was past curfew, and at least one person under his direction was in violation.
By the time he made his way to the hallway leading into the kitchen, the perpetrator was already on their way back to meet him.
He waited. Shortly, Artemis came around the corner, eyes fixed on what appeared to be a bowl of ice cream as she scooped up a spoonful and lifted it to her mouth. Her line of sight rose to meet him just before the spoon reached her lips, and she stopped with a jolt. "Oh! Oh my god," she blurted.
Red Tornado could not help but notice that Artemis was wearing nothing but panties and a usefully Godiva-like cascade of unbound hair. Given the human propensity to remain fully clothed in public at all times, it would have been difficult not to notice.
"I didn't, um," Artemis stammered, staring up at him with wide eyes. "I forgot you were still…"
There was an awkward pause. Red Tornado noted that Artemis's underwear were pink, with a bow. He wouldn't have thought her the type. Eventually, Artemis closed her mouth, tucked her ice cream up to her chest, and power-walked past him and into a nearby bedroom.
Aqualad's bedroom, Red Tornado realized.
He waited until the door slammed, until a voice - Kid Flash - protested, "Aww, you didn't bring any for us?" and until he heard Artemis's hissed response of "Shut up!" before dutifully moving along.
Red Tornado elected, for the sake of propriety, to wait until morning for the reprimand regarding curfew violation.
---
Red Tornado flipped on the control room's monitor for a nightly inspection of the base. He allowed the cameras in each area of Mount Justice to display their views across the screen in circulation twice before switching to manual and searching for life signs. He wouldn't ordinarily bother, but Batman had asked him to monitor the team for "suspicious activity".
The problem, of course, was that Batman had neglected to define his idea of 'suspicious'.
Everyone seemed to be functioning within normal parameters as far as Red Tornado could tell, but he paused the monitor's cycle on the view of the living area - the only area, according to inspection, that contained more than one member of the team.
Aqualad was lying on the sofa with one leg pulled up to prop his book against his knee; the other leg was stretched out so that his foot was in Miss Martian's lap. Robin was sprawled all over the other sofa, remote control in hand.
"Your toes are funny," Miss Martian remarked, after a moment. She had one hand on Aqualad's ankle and was inspecting his foot with obvious interest.
Robin snickered, the sound tinny yet distinctive over the speakers. Aqualad looked up briefly, mouth and eyebrows quirking in an expression Red Tornado would characterize as bemusement. "The webbing helps me swim," he explained.
"Hm?" said Miss Martian. "Oh, no - they're like Conner's; all the same length. See?" She ran a finger over the top of Aqualad's foot. He twitched, then curled and uncurled his toes once. Robin leaned up on one arm to look. "Is it only humans who have curved toes?" She traced a finger through the air in an arc that described the way a human's toes would ascend and descend in length.
"I do not know," Aqualad admitted, examining his own foot with evident curiosity.
Robin had returned to his former, disorderly position on the sofa, eyes fixed once more on the television. "It's because of shoes," he said. "Shoes aren't made to fit feet; it's the other way around. Humans are born with straight toes too. They wear shoes shaped to cram their toes together from the time they're little, and their feet grow to match. Kaldur didn't grow up wearing shoes, and - heh, I guess Conner didn't either. Besides, he has indestructible toes." He snickered again.
"Oh," said Aqualad and Miss Martian in unison, both of them staring at Aqualad's foot in fascination. There was a thoughtful pause, and Miss Martian visibly brightened. "Like the other thing you and Conner have that some human males don't!"
The reference escaped Red Tornado, but Aqualad looked suddenly, deeply embarrassed, and Robin nearly fell off the couch in hysterics. Aqualad mumbled something into his book that Red Tornado couldn't quite catch over the speakers, and Miss Martian grinned.
"You guys are dorks," Robin declared, as his fit of laughter came to its end. He hit a button on the remote and tossed it onto the sofa before standing and pulling his arms above his head. "I'm headed back to my room." He walked away, pausing only minutely to squeeze Aqualad's calf, and it wasn't until he had disappeared from the camera's range that his voice drifted back with an addendum: "If anyone wants to join me…"
Miss Martian smiled at him over her shoulder. "Kaldur?" she asked, turning back.
"Perhaps later," he told her, returning the smile, and lifted his book, presumably to indicate that he was occupied.
"Okay," said Miss Martian. She crawled up the length of Aqualad's body to kiss him on the lips and lingered a moment before standing to follow Robin from the room. Aqualad smiled briefly after them before returning to his book.
Red Tornado switched to the outside cameras to inspect the grounds and wondered if any of that counted as suspicious.
---
The pool wasn't going to clean itself. In point of fact, the pool was designed to clean itself, but the mechanism was in a severe state of disrepair after last weekend's attempt at the temporary containment of a rampaging aquatic beast, so for the foreseeable future, it wasn't going to.
Red Tornado was going to. Because someone had to, and Aqualad would be home in Atlantis for the next few days, and everyone else, when confronted with the pool's condition, had made hasty excuses or claimed higher responsibilities or "forgotten".
Being both an artificial life form and intrinsically motivated toward the health and wellbeing of the planet gave one a sense of unflappable inner peace, Red Tornado had found; a rational calm that evoked comparisons to someone called Mr. Spock from his younger charges. Nonetheless, he found himself trapped in a particular line of thinking as he skimmed the pool: He was a longstanding member of the Justice League. He was a champion of ecology and humanity alike. He was respected by his peers, feared by his enemies, and loved by civilians everywhere. He had participated in countless successful endeavors to save the world. And he was dredging bacterial buildup from the surface of a swimming pool so as not to interfere on today's airing of Grey's Anatomy.
He really did have a heart. Robin had run the diagnostic himself, and was currently playing Fallout. Red Tornado idly considered installing a subroutine that would allow him to sigh expressively.
Red Tornado's reverie was interrupted by the sounds of approaching feet; one pair heavy, measured, somewhat cautious; the other jogging - seemingly back and forth, frantic, as though the other person weren't keeping adequate pace. "Come on," said one voice; that was Kid Flash, and he sounded urgent and more hushed than his usually brazen volumes. "Nobody's back here this time of day. I promise."
"I still don't get why we couldn't go to your room," responded the other; Superboy. He sounded sullen and cautious, which could mean that the pair were up to something, or not. Either was likely.
"It's better this way," Kid Flash responded, a wicked grin in his voice that was starkly audible even though the pair had come to a halt around the corner, just far enough that if Red Tornado turned, he wouldn't be able to see them. "More exciting."
"It is?" Superboy sounded doubtful.
There was a rustling of cloth, and Superboy exhaled, the pitch of his breath changing. Kid Flash snickered. "You know; it’s dangerous. We could get caught."
"Then we shouldn't--"
"I told you, we won't get caught. But we could." A creak like rubber soles flexing and then a wet sound, lingering and punctuated by a loud smack. "You gotta learn to appreciate a thrill, Conner."
Red Tornado emptied his net as Superboy hesitated. "But…all I'll be able to think about is…someone walking in on us."
"Come on," Kid Flash laughed, "what would they even say? Batman and Black Canary went home for the day. Besides," and his voice dropped in pitch, "I'll make you forget."
There was an even longer hesitation as Red Tornado made another sweep of the surface; more sounds of cloth shifting and several deep, careful breaths. "Okay," Superboy said at last, grudgingly.
Another wet sound, and this time one of them - that sounded like Superboy, but Red Tornado wasn't positive - made a soft noise, and Kid Flash murmured, "Great. Don't worry about it, big guy; I'll take good care of you."
There was the repetitive click of a zipper being eased down, slowly, and Red Tornado could hear the exact moment when Kid Flash dropped to his knees.
Red Tornado mused over the time that he'd single-handedly evacuated a small island nation and sealed off the worst of the volcanic eruption before it could spread to destroy major towns. He didn't think that any of the tearfully happy islanders would have asked him to clean a pool and listen to adolescents perform oral sex.
The pool was clean by the time Red Tornado heard the zipper go back up. He put up the net and wondered why it was that everything humans did for fun seemed so wet, and decided that he should make his presence known now lest the two of them move on to other activities right there in the hallway.
When he rounded the corner, Kid Flash was still on his knees, hands framing Superboy's hips as the larger boy recovered. Kid Flash was looking up at him, halfway through an inquiry, when he stopped dead and whirled so fast that he toppled and landed on his backside. Superboy likewise shuffled back along the wall at top speeds; the pair stared at him, eyes impractically wide, mouths agape.
Red Tornado surveyed them momentarily. Superboy's face was roughly the color of his own, and Kid Flash was working his mouth in apparent shock. A mouth that was, Red Tornado noted, flushed, swollen, and sticky-wet in appearance; Red Tornado turned and walked away, pondering the oddities of human biology.
"Wh-why didn't you tell me he was back there!?" Kid Flash erupted, as soon as the pair were out of sight. "You have super hearing!"
"I was distracted!" Superboy shot back. "And I thought you wanted to get caught!"
"Oh my god," Kid Flash moaned. "Why didn't we get you into porn before we started banging you…"
Yet more data for a growing collection of peculiarities, Red Tornado supposed.
---
The most puzzling thing was when the hiding stopped.
After the initial round of discoveries, the team spent weeks in secrecy. Red Tornado knew from the cameras that the - incidents, he'd taken to thinking of them, hadn't ceased, but things were…different. The team took to avoiding him, cutting all contact that wasn't mandatory. They were careful to keep a safe distance from each other when he was in the room. They became suspiciously adept at keeping curfew.
It lasted for some time, and then…stopped.
Everything returned to normal. The team resumed speaking with him normally (something that Red Tornado was almost but not quite surprised to find out that he had missed) and could be caught sneaking about the base at all hours of the night, and their contact with each other was…increased. Quite a bit, in fact. Not only were they no longer making a concerted effort to avoid being caught, they weren't even keeping their…relationship behind closed doors.
After they stopped hiding, Red Tornado began to see things. He saw Miss Martian feed Superboy a taste of cake icing from the end of her finger; he saw Robin scrape bare fingers through Kid Flash's hair after a particularly difficult mission, scratching over his scalp before his palm came to rest at the back of the other boy's neck; he saw Artemis on Aqualad's lap during a movie marathon, her thumb stroking the inside of his wrist. He saw Miss Martian giggling as Artemis taught her to waltz in the training room after hours, all smiles and whispered direction, and everything seemed to come full circle in a way Red Tornado didn't fully understand.
It perplexed him. Perhaps they'd determined that if Red Tornado hadn't yet informed Batman or the League about their - their relationship, he must not be planning to ever do so. Perhaps they'd become defiant, in typical teenage fashion; perhaps they'd decided that they didn't care what Red Tornado, or possibly anyone else, thought.
Perhaps they trusted him, now.
---
Red Tornado was running a full systems diagnostic when he heard the news, and promptly decided that it could wait.
Miss Martian seemed oddly small in a way Red Tornado had never noticed before, lying still and silent in her infirmary bed. Small enough that her lifeless hand was engulfed by the mass of Superboy's palm as he sat watchful at her bedside; small enough that Artemis could tuck herself up to the other girl's side and wrap a protective arm around her waist. At the other side of the bed sat Robin, dozing fitfully in a chair he had dragged up close so that he could rest one arm on Miss Martian's bed. Kid Flash, for the most part, paced the hall at lightning speed, zipping in on every other pass to hover over the Martian girl and twitch his hands as though he wanted to touch her but didn't dare. Aqualad simply stood over her, arms crossed, face set in grim and sorrowful lines.
Red Tornado felt as though he were intruding simply by entering the room. No one looked up when he came in.
No one looked up when Batman came in, either, although Robin shook himself from slumber at a deeply ingrained attunement and turned slightly further toward the infirmary bed. On his next pass, Kid Flash stopped at Robin's side and squeezed the other boy's shoulder.
Batman watched. They all made quite a picture, Red Tornado thought, but not necessarily an incriminating one; he knew that it was natural for humans to seek closeness and physical comfort in times of stress, often from friends. It didn't have to mean anything complex. Still, Batman was - well, the Batman, and Red Tornado examined the man's face as he examined the scene before them, waiting.
Batman's eyes narrowed, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. He knew. He knew, and was gone with a soundless swirl of his cape.
Red Tornado stopped for a brief talk with the doctor - they'd stabilized Miss Martian's condition and could only wait, now - and traded posts with Black Canary, who seemed uncharacteristically aged.
He was passing the briefing room when Batman appeared. "How long has this been going on?" he greeted, and Red Tornado had a brief moment to consider the absurdity of his life - not in any grand existential sense, or even in any sense regarding teenagers, for the first time in a long time, but rather the fundamental silliness that came of standing in front of a man on whom he had half an inch and several lifetimes and feeling as though he'd been dragged for judgment before a stern father he'd never had.
"Data is inconclusive," Red Tornado responded, honestly, "but I found out four months ago."
The muscle in Batman's jaw clenched again. "I was never informed."
"No," said Red Tornado. He didn't suppose he had been.
"I asked you," Batman said slowly, in a tone that betrayed no emotion, "to notify me of any suspicious behavior."
Red Tornado had seldom been interrogated via so few actual questions. "You neglected to define what you would consider suspicious," said Red Tornado, and concluded that he was going to be seeing a lot of aggravated jaw muscle this evening. "Had I known that the team's recent behavior qualified, I would have informed you immediately. Nothing they have done indicates that the situation is out of the ordinary."
Batman looked as though he badly wanted to repeat the last half of that sentence in an incredulously startled tone of voice, as humans sometimes did, but he restrained himself. "What exactly is the situation, Tornado?"
Red Tornado thought about that. He had been thinking about it for months, but when framed in simple terms that demanded a concise answer… "My observations imply that all six members of the team are involved in a romantic relationship with each other."
"Imply," Batman repeated, deadpan.
"Strongly imply," said Red Tornado.
Batman took a breath, held it, and let it out. "For future reference, I would consider such observations suspicious."
"You suspected," said Red Tornado. It wasn't a question.
"There were hints."
"And now?"
Batman exhaled audibly. "Obviously, this can't be allowed to continue."
Red Tornado…hadn't quite been expecting that. He wasn't sure why he hadn't been expecting it, exactly. "They are happy," he pointed out, because he'd been led to believe that was why humans did these things. He thought it was the entire idea.
He thought Batman may have blinked under the cowl. "The object isn't to make them unhappy. My concern is with the health of the team."
"Their relationship would impair team dynamics?"
"It's possible. Relationships with teammates often lead to trouble, particularly…unconventional ones such as this. It indicates an unhealthy codependence, and possibly a distorted worldview due to the young age at which their working arrangement was developed."
Red Tornado realized that it would be uncharitable and far out of line to point out the irony in Batman psychoanalyzing anyone, so he didn't. "Nothing I have observed indicates any problems," he said instead. "Black Canary has not reported any concerns to me, either. Has their mission performance been sub-par?"
Batman watched him for a long time in silence. "No," he eventually admitted.
"Have you observed any deterioration in their focus, commitment, or efficiency? Has Robin exhibited any symptoms of psychological harm?"
The pause this time was even longer. "No."
"My observations have led me to believe that the team's relationship has been helpful in establishing increased communication and improved cooperation," Red Tornado pointed out, truthfully. "In my opinion, forcing them apart would reverse those effects, potentially driving a wedge between them, and almost certainly between them and us. I also believe that it would make all of them thoroughly, and unnecessarily, unhappy."
Batman looked at him for a long time; the muscle in his jaw worked, and Red Tornado almost thought he saw the man's hands move underneath his cape. "I'll take your opinion under advisement," he said shortly, and was gone.
Red Tornado was relatively certain that there would be no more talk of forcibly separating the team.
---
Miss Martian made a slow but steady recovery, and Red Tornado didn't question any of the team's doting, careful supervision, waiting hand and foot, and constant attention that continued until Miss Martian became embarrassed and insisted that everyone ease off a bit on the condition that she promise not to die while they weren't looking.
Batman didn't question it, either.