The Medic: Chapter 11
Title: The Medic
Author: Asase
Rating: PG 13(just to be safe)
Genre: Action, friendship, fluff
Characters: OC, Robin, Batman, Kaldur, Artemis
Summary: Dinner at the Wayne’s
Word Count: 2,682
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or organizations from the Young Justice cartoon, comics, or general DC universe.
The Medic: Chapter Eleven
Gotham
February 13, 15:30 EDT
“Mr. Wayne, I can’t sing in this dress.” Cira stepped from behind the curtain and stood on the dais. The strapless dress was white with an iridescent sheen, a dark blue sash cut the dress in two at her waist. It was also very tight.
Her friends sat on benches in front of her. Wayne, Dick and the band were the only clients in the small boutique. King leaned into Rita, muffling his chuckles on her shoulder. Rita snickered. “What’s the matter? Do the girls need room to breathe?”
“No… My diaphragm needs room to expand!” Cira adjusted the top of the garment, inadvertently causing her large breasts to move, undercutting her own argument.
Dick clasped his hand over his mouth, his body shook. Giggles escaped from around his fingers, echoing through the little shop. His mirth caused her friends to completely loose control, and uproarious laughter filled the boutique.
Now the little bird laughs, Cira thought bitterly, but she wasn’t too upset. Sure it was at her expense, but it was about time the boy smiled, he hadn’t smiled all day.
Mr. Wayne held his hand over his mouth, covering a small smile. He coughed to make the motion more natural. “We can have adjustments made.”
Cira stalked back to the dressing rooms.
“My turn next!” Mio bounced after Cira entering the dressing room.
***
Wardrobe selected, they would split up for the day. There was still practicing to be done. Wayne pulled Cira aside before they split. “If you don’t mind we would like you to join us for dinner.” Wayne placed his hands on his son’s shoulders, “Just something casual. Pick you up at seven?”
She assumed that Batman had more business to discuss with her, and she literally had lists of things to discuss with him. She tucked those lists into the back pocket of her jeans. Unruly knocks pelted her door. Cira opened it.
“Ew… You aren’t wearing that are you?” King made a face before he pushed past her and into her room. Rita was close behind; they made a b-line to the room’s closet. Mio was next in line. She held her oversized make up case and strode into Cira’s room.
“Oh no. Guys, he said a casual dinner.”
“He’s filthy rich.” Cale entered the room as well. He plopped down on Cira’s bed, and stretched his injured arm gently. “Casual dinner might mean a five star restaurant.”
“Not you too!” Cira wailed.
“She dragged me along,” he pointed to his girlfriend. Mio continued to go through her kit. The room’s table was already covered with her many cosmetics.
“Look at where he took us to lunch!” Cira exclaimed. “He’s obviously a laid back guy.”
“He was just trying to not intimidate us,” Cale answered.
“You all are making a big deal out of nothing.” Cira crossed her arms and sat on her bed hard, causing it to bounce.
King spoke, still buried in the closet, “The man who bought you a dress that had your boobs stacked higher than heaven, just asked you out to dinner.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Rita and Mio’s dresses flattered,” Cira used air quotes on the word, “their figures as well.”
“That dress did make my butt look good!” Rita added.
“Cira,” Cale spoke in a tone that Cira felt was unreasonably calm. “Nothing in life is free. Us getting this job is too good to be true. I hate to break it to ya, but I think you’ve been pimped out.”
“His son is coming along too,” Cira reminded them. “This is a family dinner. Nothing romantic at all,” she spoke the last sentence through clenched teeth.
“Maybe he wants to find his kid a mom?” Mio offered.
Cira sputtered. What was she to say? ‘It’s not what you think! Wayne just wants’ me to join a team of superbrats and patch up their boo boo’s. If I play my cards right it might even count as an internship!’
King pulled out a dark dress. He waved it in front of Rita and she nodded, grabbing a pair of shoes that matched. King turned to Cira carrying the dress.
“Hon, I’d switch with you if I could, but it’s already settled. Now, go out there and take one for the team!” He winked at her.
***
Alfred helped Cira into car. She grumbled as she entered.
“Why are you so dressed up?” Dick asked. “We’re just going to the house.” He was in jeans and a hoodie. Wayne was in a dark turtle neck and slacks.
“I am never gonna hear the end of this! Do you understand?” she shouted and pointed to at the hotel. “They are never gonna let me live this down! This will haunt me for months!”
Father and son looked at each other and laughed.
***
Dinner was astounding. The butler cooked and served the meal, despite Wayne’s insistence that he sit down. Wayne even threatened to fire the man if he didn’t sit. Mr. Pennyworth ignored the threats. According to Robin it was a common routine.
Or was it Dick? She wasn’t sure which identity she was dealing with. She wasn’t sure for Wayne as either. Which was the true individual and which was the mask? So far there had been no lectures, or threats. If they were going to treat her knowing their identities as normal, she certainly wasn’t in the mind to argue.
Wayne placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. “Now.”
There’s the Bat, Cira thought.
“Dick says that there are things you wish to change about the suit. Like the cape for instance.”
“Yes, the cape, but also the color. It’s a bit dark isn’t it?”
“But we mostly do covert missions anyway.” Dick reminded her.
“All the time? But shouldn’t my er… suit reflect what I do? People that shouldn’t have been scared of me were scared last night.”
“Miss Cira,” she turned her attention to Mr. Pennyworth, “I must say that the current costume is much more appropriate than earlier attempts.” Alfred placed a sketch book in front of her.
Cira flipped through its pages. “What is this?” she turned the book to a page, folding the other pages of the spiral bound book back. “It looks like a naughty nurse costume.”
“I was just getting warmed up.” Dick leaned back in his chair.
Cira held up the book, showing the page to Wayne. “Mr. Wayne,” her voice mock serious, “Do you monitor what type of media your son consumes? You should invest in Parental Controls.”
“I don’t design the costumes. I just approve them,” Wayne took a sip of coffee and avoided her gaze.
“I’d only hack Parental Controls anyway. Besides didn’t you want something that reflects what you do?” Dick smirked.
Cira turned the drawing back around. She raised an eyebrow as she inspected the drawing again. “This reflects what I do about as well as you flouncing about Gotham in Christmas green short shorts.”
“Bruce…” Dick’s voice was wary.
“I don’t design the costumes. I just approve them,” This time Wayne looked mildly amused.
“I’m sure you have the legs for it Baby Bird.” She grabbed at his knees and he batted her away.
Wayne spoke, bringing the conversation back to business. “You said that people were afraid of you. There is only so much the suit can do to alleviate that situation. Dick said that your technique is a bit extreme.”
“It is?”
“We generally avoid breaking people,” Wayne smiled a little.
“Okay...”
“Also, I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from using guns.”
“But it’s not like our enemies are going to-”
“No guns. Ever.” All mirth left his tone and his eyes hardened.
“Okay,” she let out a large breath, “in that case I’m gonna need a good rope.”
“A rope?” Robin made a face.
“They taught us how to use a lasso... It was supposed to make us more like her.” Cira explained. “I just happened to be good at it so I kept it up.”
Wayne’s eyes narrowed. “Show me.”
***
It was like a Wild West show. She had borrowed some casual clothes. Alfred always had something on hand for unexpected guests. Alfred applauded as Cira controlled the size, speed and shape of the lasso.
“I tie a mean knot as well,” Cira boasted, sill twirling the lasso.
“Dick does need more practice escaping bonds,” Wayne rubbed his chin.
“I do?” Dick hoped that it wouldn’t lead to this, he should have guessed. His mentor never let an opportunity to train slip away.
“Why don’t you show us that as well?” Wayne directed.
This was payback for the grappling hook; he was sure, just look at how smug she was. Dick growled deep in his throat. He escaped some of her bonds. It just took longer than Bruce would like. Others he couldn’t get out of at all. Let Bruce get tied up, then he could judge the difficulty, Dick thought bitterly. Cira untied one knot and the rope slid off of him easily.
Dick sat upright pouting a bit. “Did the government really let you use that during missions?”
“They didn’t care as long as the job was done, and no major regulations were broken,” she grinned flashing her teeth, “I’ve left quite a few terrorists tied up and hanging by their toenails.”
“So. We’re getting you a rope,” Wayne interjected, unholy amusement in his eyes, “And Dick’s going to have to retake Escapeology 101.”
Flinging himself back onto the floor, Robin groaned.
***
Cira sat on one of the couches in the mansion’s massive library. She flipped through a large binder. It covered everything Batman knew about Atlantean physiology. Binders covering Martians, Kryptonians and scientifically enhanced humans, speedsters in particular, lay at her feet. She would learn faster by simply observing her new charges, but it never hurt to learn the old fashioned way. At some point, lessons would arranged between herself and Pennyworth. The older gentleman was once a medic for the Royal Air Force. Robin listed Pennyworth’s other achievements with pride. Cira’s respect for the man grew; it was an intimidating list. Robin plopped beside her sighing.
“Restless?” she asked, not looking up from the binder.
“Is it that obvious?”
“It’s always hard to wait around while others perform a rescue.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Robin rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry things will turn out fine.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Do your friends suck?”
“What?” his voice rose, “No!”
“Do you think that this Grodd guy is stronger, smarter or tougher than they are?”
“No!”
“Then it will be alright,” Cira said, “The bad guy will get beat down, and the dude in distress will be rescued.”
“Life’s never that simple.”
“Sometimes it is. There is a time for the simple, for the black and white. You can’t always overanalyze everything.”
“How are you supposed to know?”
“Sometimes it boils down to experience.” She put the binder down and placed her arm around his shoulders. “Sometimes you just gotta trust this.” She points to his heart.
“What is this?” he scoffed, “An afterschool special?”
“There isn’t a laugh track so I’m gonna say no,” She squeezed his shoulders in an informal hug.
***
Pennyworth stood in the library. He wouldn’t allow the torrents of laughter that threatened to escape disrupt his posture. He was a proper gentleman after all.
“Alfred, have you seen Dick?” Batman entered the library, his cowl off. It had been some time since he and his ward patrolled together, and now seemed like an opportune moment to catch up, his ward could use the distraction.
“I apologize Master Bruce,” laughter laced the older man’s voice. “I was going to offer Miss Cira a ride to her hotel when-” he gestured to the couch.
Batman contained his reaction. It wasn’t a very graceful configuration. The pair had fallen asleep on the couch, limbs everywhere. The couch was made to seat two people, so it was too short for Cira’s full length, her legs dangled over the edge. Robin was sprawled on top of the girl. Batman wondered how he could even breathe with the way his head was turned. Cira’s arm rested on the small of Robin’s back. The other arm hung off the couch, her thumb still marked her place in a binder.
“He doesn’t have many friends that know both sides of his life,” Alfred smiled at the pair. “Sir, are you sure you wish to continue keeping his identity from the Team?”
Batman didn’t acknowledge the question, “Please get them a blanket.” He pulled up his cowl and left the room.
***
Gotham
February 14, 2:30 EDT
The Atlantean scoured the roof tops for his partner. When he returned from Central City she was still restless but at least rested. He decided to get some rest as well. When he awoke Artemis was no longer in the cave. He hoped that she had only gone out for some air. A jumpy Artemis would only hinder Miss Martian and Superboy’s rescue efforts.
The Joker’s condition had not changed, so he decided to take the time to find his partner. However, the Joker’s behavior disturbed him. He would have gladly switched assignments with Robin, especially since the younger hero wanted the Joker so badly. Aqualad preferred a more straightforward villain.
At first he assumed that the Joker was just stalling in preparation for his grand diversion. However, the last few days of tracking the madman had been too easy. Aqualad and Artemis were able to collect data on Joker’s ‘guest list’ for the ball. Now that they knew which villains to expect the Justice League could send the perfect team to counteract the assault. But it’s as if the villain was leaving breadcrumbs. Maybe it was a trap? What if the Joker could anticipate who the League would send, and had a plan ready for them?
Surely the Joker couldn’t be trying to sabotage his own attack plan? Not unless he had some falling out with his employer... With the villain’s temperament the second guess was just as likely as the first. Aqualad had expressed his concerns to Batman, and Batman only grew dangerously quiet. Yes, Aqualad definitely preferred more straightforward villains.
He found her on one of the abandoned rooftops, a green and yellow flurry of punches and kicks, she spared with the air. He supposed that this was better than her beating on some defenseless mugger. Or perhaps at this late hour she had run out of them? He landed behind her.
“Artemis.”
“I’m fine,” she continued her exercises. Wally had contacted her everyday, sometimes more than once. Covert missions didn’t sit well with the speedster, mostly because it required sitting for extended periods, but by talking to her he could at least run his mouth. She let it go the first day that he didn’t contact her, even though the lack of communication unnerved her. She now blamed herself for not following her instincts.
“I wasn’t about to suggest otherwise,” Kaldur said calmly, “I-”
“Why was he sent alone?” her question was abrupt.
“Zatanna and Rocket have their own responsibilities at the moment. Robin was sent-”
“Psh! Secret mission. Whatever.”
“There was no way to anticipate that Kid Flash would be captured.”
She turned on him then. “You mean Kid Screw up?” she punched Kaldur in the chest, turning him into an impromptu boxing bag. Kaldur didn’t move or try to block.
“Yeah! Nothing could possibly go wrong!” she punched Kaldur again, harder, ignoring the pain of colliding with his dense form.
“This isn’t right!” she yelled, raised both hands, and slammed her fists into Kaldur’s chest. “It isn’t…it isn’t right!” She slammed both fists into his chest again, choking on her words. She leaned into him burying her head into his chest.
Kaldur did not speak; he only placed his hand on her back, and his chin on top of her head. He held her shaking form until her sobs subsided.
Chapter Ten
Chapter Twelve
Author: Asase
Rating: PG 13(just to be safe)
Genre: Action, friendship, fluff
Characters: OC, Robin, Batman, Kaldur, Artemis
Summary: Dinner at the Wayne’s
Word Count: 2,682
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or organizations from the Young Justice cartoon, comics, or general DC universe.
The Medic: Chapter Eleven
Gotham
February 13, 15:30 EDT
“Mr. Wayne, I can’t sing in this dress.” Cira stepped from behind the curtain and stood on the dais. The strapless dress was white with an iridescent sheen, a dark blue sash cut the dress in two at her waist. It was also very tight.
Her friends sat on benches in front of her. Wayne, Dick and the band were the only clients in the small boutique. King leaned into Rita, muffling his chuckles on her shoulder. Rita snickered. “What’s the matter? Do the girls need room to breathe?”
“No… My diaphragm needs room to expand!” Cira adjusted the top of the garment, inadvertently causing her large breasts to move, undercutting her own argument.
Dick clasped his hand over his mouth, his body shook. Giggles escaped from around his fingers, echoing through the little shop. His mirth caused her friends to completely loose control, and uproarious laughter filled the boutique.
Now the little bird laughs, Cira thought bitterly, but she wasn’t too upset. Sure it was at her expense, but it was about time the boy smiled, he hadn’t smiled all day.
Mr. Wayne held his hand over his mouth, covering a small smile. He coughed to make the motion more natural. “We can have adjustments made.”
Cira stalked back to the dressing rooms.
“My turn next!” Mio bounced after Cira entering the dressing room.
***
Wardrobe selected, they would split up for the day. There was still practicing to be done. Wayne pulled Cira aside before they split. “If you don’t mind we would like you to join us for dinner.” Wayne placed his hands on his son’s shoulders, “Just something casual. Pick you up at seven?”
She assumed that Batman had more business to discuss with her, and she literally had lists of things to discuss with him. She tucked those lists into the back pocket of her jeans. Unruly knocks pelted her door. Cira opened it.
“Ew… You aren’t wearing that are you?” King made a face before he pushed past her and into her room. Rita was close behind; they made a b-line to the room’s closet. Mio was next in line. She held her oversized make up case and strode into Cira’s room.
“Oh no. Guys, he said a casual dinner.”
“He’s filthy rich.” Cale entered the room as well. He plopped down on Cira’s bed, and stretched his injured arm gently. “Casual dinner might mean a five star restaurant.”
“Not you too!” Cira wailed.
“She dragged me along,” he pointed to his girlfriend. Mio continued to go through her kit. The room’s table was already covered with her many cosmetics.
“Look at where he took us to lunch!” Cira exclaimed. “He’s obviously a laid back guy.”
“He was just trying to not intimidate us,” Cale answered.
“You all are making a big deal out of nothing.” Cira crossed her arms and sat on her bed hard, causing it to bounce.
King spoke, still buried in the closet, “The man who bought you a dress that had your boobs stacked higher than heaven, just asked you out to dinner.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. Rita and Mio’s dresses flattered,” Cira used air quotes on the word, “their figures as well.”
“That dress did make my butt look good!” Rita added.
“Cira,” Cale spoke in a tone that Cira felt was unreasonably calm. “Nothing in life is free. Us getting this job is too good to be true. I hate to break it to ya, but I think you’ve been pimped out.”
“His son is coming along too,” Cira reminded them. “This is a family dinner. Nothing romantic at all,” she spoke the last sentence through clenched teeth.
“Maybe he wants to find his kid a mom?” Mio offered.
Cira sputtered. What was she to say? ‘It’s not what you think! Wayne just wants’ me to join a team of superbrats and patch up their boo boo’s. If I play my cards right it might even count as an internship!’
King pulled out a dark dress. He waved it in front of Rita and she nodded, grabbing a pair of shoes that matched. King turned to Cira carrying the dress.
“Hon, I’d switch with you if I could, but it’s already settled. Now, go out there and take one for the team!” He winked at her.
***
Alfred helped Cira into car. She grumbled as she entered.
“Why are you so dressed up?” Dick asked. “We’re just going to the house.” He was in jeans and a hoodie. Wayne was in a dark turtle neck and slacks.
“I am never gonna hear the end of this! Do you understand?” she shouted and pointed to at the hotel. “They are never gonna let me live this down! This will haunt me for months!”
Father and son looked at each other and laughed.
***
Dinner was astounding. The butler cooked and served the meal, despite Wayne’s insistence that he sit down. Wayne even threatened to fire the man if he didn’t sit. Mr. Pennyworth ignored the threats. According to Robin it was a common routine.
Or was it Dick? She wasn’t sure which identity she was dealing with. She wasn’t sure for Wayne as either. Which was the true individual and which was the mask? So far there had been no lectures, or threats. If they were going to treat her knowing their identities as normal, she certainly wasn’t in the mind to argue.
Wayne placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands. “Now.”
There’s the Bat, Cira thought.
“Dick says that there are things you wish to change about the suit. Like the cape for instance.”
“Yes, the cape, but also the color. It’s a bit dark isn’t it?”
“But we mostly do covert missions anyway.” Dick reminded her.
“All the time? But shouldn’t my er… suit reflect what I do? People that shouldn’t have been scared of me were scared last night.”
“Miss Cira,” she turned her attention to Mr. Pennyworth, “I must say that the current costume is much more appropriate than earlier attempts.” Alfred placed a sketch book in front of her.
Cira flipped through its pages. “What is this?” she turned the book to a page, folding the other pages of the spiral bound book back. “It looks like a naughty nurse costume.”
“I was just getting warmed up.” Dick leaned back in his chair.
Cira held up the book, showing the page to Wayne. “Mr. Wayne,” her voice mock serious, “Do you monitor what type of media your son consumes? You should invest in Parental Controls.”
“I don’t design the costumes. I just approve them,” Wayne took a sip of coffee and avoided her gaze.
“I’d only hack Parental Controls anyway. Besides didn’t you want something that reflects what you do?” Dick smirked.
Cira turned the drawing back around. She raised an eyebrow as she inspected the drawing again. “This reflects what I do about as well as you flouncing about Gotham in Christmas green short shorts.”
“Bruce…” Dick’s voice was wary.
“I don’t design the costumes. I just approve them,” This time Wayne looked mildly amused.
“I’m sure you have the legs for it Baby Bird.” She grabbed at his knees and he batted her away.
Wayne spoke, bringing the conversation back to business. “You said that people were afraid of you. There is only so much the suit can do to alleviate that situation. Dick said that your technique is a bit extreme.”
“It is?”
“We generally avoid breaking people,” Wayne smiled a little.
“Okay...”
“Also, I’m going to have to ask you to refrain from using guns.”
“But it’s not like our enemies are going to-”
“No guns. Ever.” All mirth left his tone and his eyes hardened.
“Okay,” she let out a large breath, “in that case I’m gonna need a good rope.”
“A rope?” Robin made a face.
“They taught us how to use a lasso... It was supposed to make us more like her.” Cira explained. “I just happened to be good at it so I kept it up.”
Wayne’s eyes narrowed. “Show me.”
***
It was like a Wild West show. She had borrowed some casual clothes. Alfred always had something on hand for unexpected guests. Alfred applauded as Cira controlled the size, speed and shape of the lasso.
“I tie a mean knot as well,” Cira boasted, sill twirling the lasso.
“Dick does need more practice escaping bonds,” Wayne rubbed his chin.
“I do?” Dick hoped that it wouldn’t lead to this, he should have guessed. His mentor never let an opportunity to train slip away.
“Why don’t you show us that as well?” Wayne directed.
This was payback for the grappling hook; he was sure, just look at how smug she was. Dick growled deep in his throat. He escaped some of her bonds. It just took longer than Bruce would like. Others he couldn’t get out of at all. Let Bruce get tied up, then he could judge the difficulty, Dick thought bitterly. Cira untied one knot and the rope slid off of him easily.
Dick sat upright pouting a bit. “Did the government really let you use that during missions?”
“They didn’t care as long as the job was done, and no major regulations were broken,” she grinned flashing her teeth, “I’ve left quite a few terrorists tied up and hanging by their toenails.”
“So. We’re getting you a rope,” Wayne interjected, unholy amusement in his eyes, “And Dick’s going to have to retake Escapeology 101.”
Flinging himself back onto the floor, Robin groaned.
***
Cira sat on one of the couches in the mansion’s massive library. She flipped through a large binder. It covered everything Batman knew about Atlantean physiology. Binders covering Martians, Kryptonians and scientifically enhanced humans, speedsters in particular, lay at her feet. She would learn faster by simply observing her new charges, but it never hurt to learn the old fashioned way. At some point, lessons would arranged between herself and Pennyworth. The older gentleman was once a medic for the Royal Air Force. Robin listed Pennyworth’s other achievements with pride. Cira’s respect for the man grew; it was an intimidating list. Robin plopped beside her sighing.
“Restless?” she asked, not looking up from the binder.
“Is it that obvious?”
“It’s always hard to wait around while others perform a rescue.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Robin rolled his eyes.
“Don’t worry things will turn out fine.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Do your friends suck?”
“What?” his voice rose, “No!”
“Do you think that this Grodd guy is stronger, smarter or tougher than they are?”
“No!”
“Then it will be alright,” Cira said, “The bad guy will get beat down, and the dude in distress will be rescued.”
“Life’s never that simple.”
“Sometimes it is. There is a time for the simple, for the black and white. You can’t always overanalyze everything.”
“How are you supposed to know?”
“Sometimes it boils down to experience.” She put the binder down and placed her arm around his shoulders. “Sometimes you just gotta trust this.” She points to his heart.
“What is this?” he scoffed, “An afterschool special?”
“There isn’t a laugh track so I’m gonna say no,” She squeezed his shoulders in an informal hug.
***
Pennyworth stood in the library. He wouldn’t allow the torrents of laughter that threatened to escape disrupt his posture. He was a proper gentleman after all.
“Alfred, have you seen Dick?” Batman entered the library, his cowl off. It had been some time since he and his ward patrolled together, and now seemed like an opportune moment to catch up, his ward could use the distraction.
“I apologize Master Bruce,” laughter laced the older man’s voice. “I was going to offer Miss Cira a ride to her hotel when-” he gestured to the couch.
Batman contained his reaction. It wasn’t a very graceful configuration. The pair had fallen asleep on the couch, limbs everywhere. The couch was made to seat two people, so it was too short for Cira’s full length, her legs dangled over the edge. Robin was sprawled on top of the girl. Batman wondered how he could even breathe with the way his head was turned. Cira’s arm rested on the small of Robin’s back. The other arm hung off the couch, her thumb still marked her place in a binder.
“He doesn’t have many friends that know both sides of his life,” Alfred smiled at the pair. “Sir, are you sure you wish to continue keeping his identity from the Team?”
Batman didn’t acknowledge the question, “Please get them a blanket.” He pulled up his cowl and left the room.
***
Gotham
February 14, 2:30 EDT
The Atlantean scoured the roof tops for his partner. When he returned from Central City she was still restless but at least rested. He decided to get some rest as well. When he awoke Artemis was no longer in the cave. He hoped that she had only gone out for some air. A jumpy Artemis would only hinder Miss Martian and Superboy’s rescue efforts.
The Joker’s condition had not changed, so he decided to take the time to find his partner. However, the Joker’s behavior disturbed him. He would have gladly switched assignments with Robin, especially since the younger hero wanted the Joker so badly. Aqualad preferred a more straightforward villain.
At first he assumed that the Joker was just stalling in preparation for his grand diversion. However, the last few days of tracking the madman had been too easy. Aqualad and Artemis were able to collect data on Joker’s ‘guest list’ for the ball. Now that they knew which villains to expect the Justice League could send the perfect team to counteract the assault. But it’s as if the villain was leaving breadcrumbs. Maybe it was a trap? What if the Joker could anticipate who the League would send, and had a plan ready for them?
Surely the Joker couldn’t be trying to sabotage his own attack plan? Not unless he had some falling out with his employer... With the villain’s temperament the second guess was just as likely as the first. Aqualad had expressed his concerns to Batman, and Batman only grew dangerously quiet. Yes, Aqualad definitely preferred more straightforward villains.
He found her on one of the abandoned rooftops, a green and yellow flurry of punches and kicks, she spared with the air. He supposed that this was better than her beating on some defenseless mugger. Or perhaps at this late hour she had run out of them? He landed behind her.
“Artemis.”
“I’m fine,” she continued her exercises. Wally had contacted her everyday, sometimes more than once. Covert missions didn’t sit well with the speedster, mostly because it required sitting for extended periods, but by talking to her he could at least run his mouth. She let it go the first day that he didn’t contact her, even though the lack of communication unnerved her. She now blamed herself for not following her instincts.
“I wasn’t about to suggest otherwise,” Kaldur said calmly, “I-”
“Why was he sent alone?” her question was abrupt.
“Zatanna and Rocket have their own responsibilities at the moment. Robin was sent-”
“Psh! Secret mission. Whatever.”
“There was no way to anticipate that Kid Flash would be captured.”
She turned on him then. “You mean Kid Screw up?” she punched Kaldur in the chest, turning him into an impromptu boxing bag. Kaldur didn’t move or try to block.
“Yeah! Nothing could possibly go wrong!” she punched Kaldur again, harder, ignoring the pain of colliding with his dense form.
“This isn’t right!” she yelled, raised both hands, and slammed her fists into Kaldur’s chest. “It isn’t…it isn’t right!” She slammed both fists into his chest again, choking on her words. She leaned into him burying her head into his chest.
Kaldur did not speak; he only placed his hand on her back, and his chin on top of her head. He held her shaking form until her sobs subsided.
Chapter Ten
Chapter Twelve