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"Merry Christmas!" M'gann cheered as she zoomed into the kitchen.
Heaving a yawn that she covered in a groan, Artemis tightened her rushed attempt at a ponytail. "M'gann, it's five in the morning. I thought you said this was an emergency."
The alien's green face contorted into a mixture of shock and horror. "It is an emergency!"
"Christmas is not an emergency."
"Have you not been pestered by Wally about the amazing gifts he's getting us?"
"Yes," Kaldur answered firmly. "I believe we all have."
As if materializing out of the shadows, Robin piped up. "Speaking of Speedy Gonzalas, where is he?"
"Jesus!" Artemis yelped, jumping forward. "Don't do that - I coulda taken your eye out!"
Robin smirked, glancing down at Artemis' automatically pigeon-toed stance. "Yeah, I'd like to see you try."
She straightened, lip curling animalistically at the boy.
"Don't tease her," Conner warned in a dangerous tone.
Seizing the opportunity to calm her boyfriend, M'gann rushed to his side, wrapping an arm around his firm waist. He in turn awkwardly patted her hair.
Robin pushed the pang of jealousy to the very edge of his mind. Despite the fact that Conner obviously couldn't show his feelings for the green girl with ease, they were lucky to have found each other. The alien from Mars and the clone of Superman.
"What's the emergency?"
The four teens jerked their heads towards the doorway in which Wally leant calmly.
"Nice to see that if there really was one you'd be up at and at them with fists flying," Artemis commented with a roll of her eyes.
Wally raised a confident brow at the archer. "Calm the attitude, Blondie," he grinned, "or I may just withhold your present."
It didn't survive more than half a second on her tanned features, but Robin didn't miss the way Artemis clenched her jaw. She could mask the enthusiasm well, but not perfectly. Though a proud girl--further confirmed as she planted her hands on her slender hips--Artemis had been bugged just as much as everyone else about the amazing surprises Wally had planned.
Well, everyone except Robin.
Now that he thought about it, it actually occurred to the boy that his friend had failed to mention it to him at all.
"Well," Wally shrugged, "I am nothing if not a man of my word."
He disappeared from sight, but was back before the breeze his fast feet left had so much as ruffled the hair on Robin's head carrying five large boxes. He handed one to M'gann, who shook it lightly, biting the left side of her plump lip. Conner took his from the boy's hands, managing to force a twitch from the corner of his usually rock-like lips. Artemis was doing well to contain her pregnant anticipation as hers was placed on the counter beside her elbow.
"Thank you," Kaldur smiled, laying his beside hers.
Wally sat back, the last box left behind him on the table. Robin didn't dare try to take it as he watched with curiosity while the girls picked at the bows - M'gann with an eager eye and Artemis in faked distain.
Like the morning sun, both faces lit up.
"Oh, Wally!" M'gann gasped. "It's beautiful!"
Conner peered over her shoulder. "It will look better on you."
She squeezed her shoulders up in embarrassment, taking her eyes away from the mystery item for a split second before asking questions, finally ending with "How much did this cost you?"
"Not allowed to say."
"No buts," he said firmly.
M'gann seemed to be melting inside. "It's just... just... perfect."
"Arty-smarty, a penny for your thoughts?" Wally grinned proudly.
Obviously more speechless than any of the team had ever seen her, the girl fumbled for the words she'd lost.
"It's okay," he nodded, throwing his arms around her before Artemis could blink. "You don't need to thank me. It was either that or a shirtless pic, but I decided being sent to hospital after a mega-glomp wouldn't be the way to spend Christmas."
Robotically and not looked exceptionally pleased at the concept, the blonde returned his embrace, which surprised Robin. He tried to peek in, see what the fuss was about, but couldn't get past Kaldur's strong shoulder blocking his view.
"You're supposed to open it," M'gann whispered, drawing the Boy Wonder's attention to the pair as she tried to explain to a baffled Conner.
"Are you sure that's okay?" he asked. "It's kinda... pretty."
"It's fine," she giggled.
With a hefty sigh, Conner shrugged and gripped both sides, pulling them with such a quick and equal forced that the paper ripped straight down the centre. Wally caught the cardboard box before it hit the ground after disentangling himself from a misty-eyed Artemis.
"Not for dropping," he snorted, giving it back.
M'gann removed the cellotape for him as he tugged up the top.
Once again, the green-skinned girl was the one to be amazed. "Oh, Conner - it's just what you wanted!"
"It is..." he murmured, voice trailing off in awe. "Thank-you, Wally."
"All good, man," he grinned, raising his hand. Conner took it, pulling Wally into the bro-hug that the speedster had taught him, slap on the back included. Wally rubbed the spot, trying not to show that it hurt a little.
"Ah, nice to see you guys are up," a voice chirped.
"Black Canary," Kaldur greeted. "Good morning."
"And merry Christmas!" she smiled warmly. "Why so early?"
Still young-looking despite her lifestyle, Robin could just about justify Wally's playful flirting with the den-mother of the mountain. Alert eyes and firm legs added to the strong, powerful vibe emitted upon sight alone.
"Ooh, presents!" she continued, looking into the box and letting a lungful of breath through her full lips.
"I know, I know," Wally sighed. "I'm just amazing."
"Not to mention modest," the woman frowned. "Not that I forgot - here."
Conner automatically took the box, unwrapped and plain. "What is it?" he asked in confusion.
M'gann jumped back like she'd been zapped, freckled face steaming molten-red.
"Y'know, just in case."
"Oh, no, no," M'gann insisted, shaking her head so hard her waves were flying. "We're not... It's not... We aren't..."
"Con...doms?" Conner queried. "What are they?"
Black Canary put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "One of your friends will teach you."
Kaldur rested his elbow in his palm, trying to conceal a chuckle. "I think," he said, "that there are videos to inform on their... purpose."
With a nod and (thankfully) no further questions, the box was placed aside as the team leader began to unwrap his gift.
"Are these... Are these what I think they are?" he whispered.
"Yes," Wally answered. "Nothing more, nothing less."
"When did you become such a great shopper, Baywatch?" Artemis asked suspiciously, having dabbed at any runaway tears with her sleeve. "Like, did you watch some kind of Rachel Ray thing or what?"
The others allowed her the dignity by not pointing out her damp eyelashes.
Wally responded with a shrug and raised his hands in modesty. "Just a natural," he replied.
Adjusting her fishnets, Black Canary addressed the group. "Batman says that despite the date, you're still on duty. Any crime and it's still your problem."
Kaldur nodded with his face serious and respectful, unlike Wally's dropped-jaw look.
She clapped her hands together. "So you guys are pretty pleased with your gifts?"
"We love them!" the girls cried in union, Artemis standing back to clear her throat.
"I mean, they're pretty good - for him," she added.
Wally took no notice, instead handing the last box to Black Canary as Robin looked on in yearning. Where was his?
The boy pursed his mouth as, once again, another smile broke out after pulling back the ribbon.
Robin mouthed the words with her as though they'd been practicing for days.
"Oh, how wonderful! I have to say, I'm impressed! Who knew? Wally - the queen of shopping."
The group started to move towards the door, leaving Robin in a state of mild confusion.
"Uh, Kid?" he smiled nervously. "You forgetting something?"
Wally's eyes lit up in realisation. His figure vanished and re-appeared with a bone wrapped in red ribbon.
"For Wolf," he explained.
Clenching his small jaw, Robin gripped Wally's collar on his way out.
"One day, you're gonna choke me doing that," he cringed, rubbing his throat.
"What about me?" he hissed.
Wally's nose twitched. "What are you talking about - I don't grab your T-shirt!"
"I meant the presents," he growled. "What did you get for me?"
"Patience, my little bird," he laughed. "I'll give it to you before Christmas is over."
Patronized but not knowing what else to do, Robin followed his friend through the hallway.
"If you do want your present, however..."
Robin was presented with a sweater, encrusted with stiff sparkles in the shape of a reindeer. He tried to take in the eyesore, the way it glittered and reflected bright red, brown and green but it didn't quite click.
"To wear?" he cried.
Wally nodded with a snort. "What else would you do with it?"
Under his breath,, Robin bitterly grumbled "Burn it."
"Nothing - hand the stupid thing here."
Running a hand through his ginger hair in amusement, the offender handed him the item like it was a rose. Richard tugged the itchy "fabric"--which felt more like permed hair--over his young skin, grimacing under the static-inducing wool.
"There," Wally smiled proudly. "Keep it on for the rest of the day, now."
Richard's eyes felt as if they might pop out of his mask. "I-in front of people?!" he spluttered in disbelief.
"Well, duh."
A blush crawled up on his paled face as he imagined the reactions - Artemis' smirk, Conner's snort, Kaldur's chuckle...
...M'gann's camera.
"No," he said suddenly, pulling at the hem desperately, as if it were a jersey sewn from poison ivy.
Wally raised an amused brow. "If you don't," he warned slowly, "you don't get your present."
Robin froze. "I don't?"
His mind swam - a day of humiliation verses no whelming gift. What if it was no good? He decided the risk of losing something great was too much - the others had loved their gifts. Surely Wally had something great if he was going to make him wear this...
Monstrosity of clothing.
The bottom re-settled at his waist in spite of the begrudging feeling boiling away in Robin's throat.
"Awesome, man," Wally chuckled. "It suits you."
"Shut up, Ginger."

"You look adorable."
The sensible boy held back the comebacks as Artemis aggravatingly pinched his firm cheek. M'gann gasped and asked where she could buy five others – the rest of the team didn't seem as enthusiastic at her idea of them all having matches ones.
"Sorry, babe," Wally replied smugly, "but this is Rob's special jersey. He will love and treasure it for as long as he lives."
"Or as long as you live," Robin thought bitterly as a freckled arm was slung around his neck, "because you're getting closer and closer to a good old-fashioned-"
"Blackmail?" Artemis snorted.
Wally pressed a finger to his grinning lips.
"You have not received your gift yet?" Kaldur asked in his smooth, annoyingly content voice.
Biting down on all the possible answers, which included expressing his urge to hit his "best friend" in the nuts, Robin faked an easy smile. "Would I be wearing this if I had?"

The day was just like that – another seventeen hours and forty-seven minutes of "Do you want your present?"
"Well then, put this on."
Robin felt that he may as well just give up.
Gifts had been swapped and given and taken and unwrapped by each of the team members. Though he had received four pretty-wrapped boxes, four cheery cards and untied four silky ribbons, Robin was still waiting.
"It's almost midnight," he growled.
Wally flicked the channel. "Huh," he sighed, "so it is."
Frustration kicking in his gut, the usually patient boy yanked out the cord.
"I was watching that!" his friend protested.
"Everyone else has gone to bed," he hissed. "We're way past the curfew and Christmas is almost over. I've spent all day wearing ridiculous holiday junk, stringing fairy lights around my body and bending over backwards for you. Are you going to give me the stupid present or not?"
"Depends," Wally said slowly. "Pulling the plug out was pretty mean."
"Be glad it wasn't your eyeball."
"Fine, you win."
Robin was stunned beyond words. "Wait..." he breathed, "what?"
Pushing himself up with one hand on either armrest, Wally stood before him. "You win," he repeated solemnly.
Cheers and victory cries erupted in Robin's head. "Great! Let's see it, then-"
"One more thing."
He knew it was too good to be true. "What?"
"Take off your glasses."
Those four words – dangerous, secret-threatening, horrible words – echoed in the young boy's head. Fear trickled into every nerve in his body like deathly fireworks.
"I want to see your eyes when you get it," Wally explained. Upon realising his best friend was shocked into being frozen, he sighed. "I've already seen you without them, dumby. I know who you are anyway."
Was that really the point, though?
Was a present worth risking everything he'd lived through?
Everything he'd trained for?
Every bit of suffering and pain he'd put into his crime-fighting career?
"Richard," Wally said calmly and quietly, "it's okay."
Fingers he knew were his own but felt like a stranger's removed the black legs from his ears, gripped the side of the frame, folded them in.
"Wow," Wally breathed, looking into the shade of blue he didn't even know could exist. "You want your present that badly?"
He instructed carefully, calmly, "Close your eyes."
Suspicious clogged Robin's throat. "Wait, Wally," he stalled hastily, "What?"
"Trust me," the ginger-haired boy grinned. "You'll like it."
Taking a deep breath to calm the nerves pulsating danger-signals into his blood, Richard did as he was told.
Warmth that smelled like spearmint hung above his lip - not his own. Richard was more of a peppermint kind of guy. What was Wally's plan, anyway? To leave him waiting, maskless, his face bare with the secrets protecting Batman's identity? Palms sweaty in wake of what? A stupid Christmas present? Why was he doing this? Such a load of trouble for such a stupid reason.
Richard heard nothing but the sound of breath being held.
He though he imagined the first touch. The first brush against his face, then his mouth. Smooth, soft, gentle and full of curiosity. But then they were back again within moments - stronger and more pressing with the knowledge that Richard wasn't pulling away.
It was the boy wonder's turn to hold the air inside his lungs that felt like they were made of concrete. Solid, tough, brittle concrete. However, he didn't argue against it. He didn't brave enough to move - in case he did something wrong, in case Wally stepped back, taking the butterflies and floaty feeling and magic with him.
Magic that enclosed his lower lip between them and caused Richard's brain to crumble.
Magic that nibbled.
Lips that Richard had previously known only to be crammed with M'gann's trial biscuits and over-salted pretzels now caressed his own. Breath that he had only ever felt on his neck while they hid behind trees in wait of command was being shared. Energy that he could put into training, fighting, protecting, was now trying to comprehend the zillion volts of electricity in his blood given via human touch. His mind filled with the wonder and excitement of that kiss he'd never known.
A squeak that couldn't decide whether or not it would venture to become a moan escaped, surprising him. Taking this as encouragement, Wally continued, biting and sucking the boy's delicate lip. Richard dared to open his mouth a little, allowing a tongue to run atop his front teeth. He was so transfixed in the feeling - revved and confused and alive and scared and zested and too freaked by his lack of thought to even remember to force in oxygen through his nose. His joints were made of air. His heart was an ever-lasting buzz, like bees in Summer.
After what only seemed like two seconds--but what Richard knew was actually exactly one minute on the dot--Wally's lips left his.
"No," Richard protested, voice barely audible despite the silence.
"Yes," Wally hushed. "Don't open your eyes."
Richard still tasted the kiss - peppermint and fruit cake. He still felt it in the vibration of static breathing on his lips.
A thud shocked him into opening his stiff-feeling eyelids in an instant.
A box.
A box with wrapping paper and a bow.
A present.
But... the kiss. That was his present - right? Did what he'd just experienced... really happen? It couldn't have been his imagination, but it couldn't have been real.
Could it?
Richard hastily lifted his glasses from the wooden table, shoving them on and checking nervously for any nosy stares.
"Wally?" he called.
Silence returned, telling him what he'd already known.
Anxiously, he pulled the free end of the ribbon, which released each side of the box, dropping down to reveal the contents.
"Oh, Wally," Robin laughed quietly. "You shouldn't have."
This is for both the :iconrob-x-kf: and :iconbatman-slash: contests. I couldn't decide which one I wanted to enter this one into, so I chose both!

[link] <---Picture to go with this

I under-estimated how long this would take me, so that's why it's yonkers late. Soz and that.
Anyway, HERE. Because despite the fact that I ship RobxStar, WallyxArty, RobxZatanna, WallyxJinx and RobxRaven (I'm a sucker for ships), in yet another alternate universe (Universe 248) RobxKF is just PERFECTION ON WHEELS :D

CONSIDER THIS A PROMPT! Leave a comment, write a fanfic, draw a picture or whatever, dear readers, but I WANNA KNOW WHAT YOU THINK WERE IN THE BOXES!
:iconhamburger46:'s ending: [link]
:iconwriter-who-writes:'s present for Artemis, Kaldur and M'gann: [link]
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Summary:   Dick is standing at the top of Wayne Tower, ready to jump, ready to fall. Ready to end his life… Wally is running faster than he's ever been, grabbing, catching. Can he make Dick see the sense in life again? High T rating. Slash: Kid Flash/Robin – Wally/Dick.
Rating: High T
Warning: Suicide attempt, slight language, angst, and slash.
Author's Note: In this story, Dick is fifteen and Wally is seventeen. Thirteen is just a little… too young in my opinion.

{Gotham City,
December 16, 09:52 p.m. EDT}

Robin was cold. It was December, and a typical Gotham Friday night: dark and grimy, with the promise of rain. He let out a deep sigh, his warm breath clouding the frosty air momentarily. He clutched at the metal railing before him, the only thing separating him from the empty darkness that surrounded him. Down below, he could hear the low din of traffic as people rushed to and fro in their cars, speeding through Gotham's dark streets to the safety of their homes. They drove fast, the black wheels slicing through puddles of murky water that splashed up to stain the pavement. Soon they would all be tucked up in bed before a warm fire, content with the knowledge that tomorrow they could sleep in.

Then night would fall, like it did at the end of every day. Gotham's streets would become infested with crime, disease, and darkness. Shadows would slip into darker shadows; the quiet hush of secretive voices would be the only sound to hear. They would all look around in fear, afraid the Dark Knight would step out of the shadows any minute, along with his nimble protégé, coming to destroy their unlawful plans before they had a chance to execute them…

The wind whipped around him, blowing his black hair into his face. It whistled sharply as it rounded the corner of Wayne Tower- a piecing, oddly unsettling sound. His fingers hurt; he was gripping the railing so hard. It took a huge effort of will to force himself to relax his hold. With the natural grace of an acrobat, he scaled the balustrade and perched on top of it.

A new sound came to his ears then; the patter of rain. It shouldn't be surprising. This was Gotham. This was also… the day. It would only be fitting that today, right now of all times, it decided to rain. He didn't move, even when the water ran in rivulets down his hair, his cheeks, his nose, before dripping off his chin to disappear in the material of his cape. Like tears. Cold tears. But he wouldn't cry. He promised himself he wouldn't cry today.

The wind tugged at him again, yanking at his body. It wanted to claim him, to whisk him away. It promised him empty promises, and he closed his ears to its shrieking voice. His cape billowed out beside him, starting to get heavy with water. Someone was bound to notice him… Why was his cape so yellow? He didn't want anyone to notice him. He didn't want to make a scene.

He looked down at the ground. Seventy-eight floors separated him from the dull gray pavement. He wondered how many seconds it would take for his body to fall seventy-eight floors down. Probably less time the longer he waited and the more water-heavy his cape became. It would weigh him down; pull him quicker to his death. His vision wavered for a moment. He imagined he could see bright spotlights on him, illuminating their act. The cold metal below his boots became the rough wood of the trapeze bar. The whistle of the rain, the snap of a rope. The faces of the audience blurred together as tears clouded his vision. Down below… so far down… the bodies of his parents, broken, falling, fallen…

Someone had noticed him. Some irrelevant passerby was pointing up at him from the pavement. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he didn't need to. It wasn't important. He smiled grimly. How fitting this all was, how ironic. Just like his parents before him, so he too would have an audience when he fell.

Wally had told him once that he could fly. He told him that when Robin fought, when he flipped and spun and dove down from sky-high heights, whipping out his grappling hook at the last possible minute, it looked like he could fly.

"I won't fly today, Wally…" Robin whispered out loud, though there was no one but the mocking rain to hear him. The wind wrenched his words away the minute they left his mouth. No, today he would fall. Just like his parents. Today he would fall, and there wouldn't be a net to catch him.

His fingers were starting to cramp on the railing again because of the cold. He knew he had to do it now… If he waited any longer, he knew he would chicken out. If he thought any longer, he knew he would chicken out. It had all made so much more sense last night… He sighed again. He couldn't change his mind now. He'd thought about this for a long time, and he'd made his decision… there could be no backing down now.

Lightly, his fingers brushed across the little pouch in his gauntlet, making sure it was still there. In it were four letters. Bruce would find them, of that Robin was sure. He knew he would distribute them to their respective destinations: One for Bruce and Alfred, his makeshift parents for so many years. One for Barbara, Dick Grayson's only true friend.  One for the team, his colleagues and companions. And one for Wally.


Robin's hands clenched into fists, so tight the fingernails dug harshly into his skin despite his gloves, and squeezed his eyes shut behind his mask. No, he didn't want to think about Wally. He couldn't think about Wally. If he thought about Wally, he'd lose all his resolve, and everything would fall apart. He had to jump, he had to jump now. Despite his promise earlier not to cry, he could feel the distinct familiar prickling behind his lids, so he rubbed at them angrily.

Without opening his eyes, he stood up carefully, balanced on the three inch wide rail. The wind, his ever-present companion, latched on to him, tugging him this way and that. His toes curled around the bar instinctively, keeping his poise. Slowly he lifted his arms, raising his head to the pale sliver of moon which he couldn't see behind his closed eyes. He sighed, for the third time that night, and let himself tip forward into darkness…



Dick was warm. There was a soft glow in front of him, radiating out a heat that warmed him from his ears to the tips of his toes. He was robed in some sort of loose clothing that had replaced his tight Kevlar uniform. It was warm and dry and familiar, and smelled of lavender. There was also something warm wrapped around his waist. It made him feel safe.

Was he dead? Is this what heaven felt like? He'd never actually believed there was anything like this after death…  Besides, this familiar warmth felt too real. He realized suddenly that he had eyes and so he blinked, opening them slowly. Years of experience made him take quick note of his surroundings.

No, this wasn't heaven, but to Dick it was as good as. More specifically, this was the West-Allen household, home to Barry and Iris and… Wally. The glow that warmed his face was, in fact, a crackling fire, popping merrily to itself in the hearth. The clothes he was wearing were clean and dry, but definitively not his own. No, they were too big; so big that the shirt fell off his shoulder and the sleeves hung down past his fingers. Someone had lent him clothes. Someone like Wally... That familiar smell of lavender? That was Iris's favorite laundry detergent; he had smelt it often enough on his best friend's garments. And the warm thing wrapped around his waist was someone's arm, holding him tightly. Wally's arm.

His eyes adjusted slowly to the bright, flickering light of the fire. He turned his head slightly, taking in the pile of soggy, dirty material that was his Robin costume, dropped unceremoniously in front of the fire to dry. There was a damp towel on his head that had probably been used to dry him off while he was unconscious, and his eyes were bare of a mask.

Wally was sitting beside him on the couch, his head bowed. Robin's black gauntlet was laid on the coffee table in front of him. With the hand that wasn't wrapped around Dick, he was fingering a pile of unopened envelopes. Dick's breath hitched in his throat when he recognized them as the four letters he had written. The four suicide notes. Wally must have heard him or felt him move because he looked up suddenly, his eyes meeting Dick's. His expression lightened immediately upon seeing that his friend had come to, before a shadow flitted across his eyes again.

"You're awake." Dick wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a statement or a question, so he just nodded once, silently. Wally looked down at the letters again, and his fingers tightened. He pulled his arm away from Dick's waist, and the younger boy frowned slightly, missing the contact.

"These," he waved the envelopes in front of him. "No one is going to read these. No one is ever going to read these." He stood up slowly and chucked them one by one into the fire. Dick watched as the red flames licked greedily at their edges, burst suddenly into a blaze, and receded leaving a black lump of charred ash. The unread words fluttered away into smoke. Wally sat back down heavily on the couch making it sink under his weight.

They stared at each other again, green eyes to blue ones. Dick tried to read Wally's expression, but he just couldn't. That simple fact scared him; normally Wally was as easy to read as an open book. Wally bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second, his eyebrows wrinkling in thought. Had Dick been expecting anything of the sort, he would easily have been able to parry Wally's hand that now came swinging towards his face. As it was, he could only blink in a stupor, feeling his cheek sting painfully from the hit.

"You… you stupid, selfish, kid," Wally said slowly, his voice tight as if in pain, and trembling with emotion. Dick touched his smarting cheek with his palm in disbelief. Wally had just… slapped him? He didn't know what to think. The speedster sighed wearily, and leaned forward to rest his hands on Dick's shoulders. The younger boy flinched at the touch, half expecting his friend to hit him again. This made Wally look guilty, but Dick barely noticed it.

He watched as the flickering fire cast shifting shadows on Wally's face, making him look tired. Actually, scratch that. Wally was tired. Dick could see it in the permanent frown that adorned his face, the faint bags under his eyes, and the shadowed look in his expression. Dick knew he was responsible for that strained look on Wally's face, and it made his stomach twist in a knot of guilt. The redhead closed his eyes, as if steeling himself, then plowed on.

"Look, I… I get it. I get that you've had to deal with a lot, way more than any kid your age should ever have to cope with. I get that you've been pushed past your limits countless times. I get it, you know I do. But you can't just… you can't just stand there and throw yourself off a building, Dick. You can't just… just kill yourself like that and expect everything to be okay. What kind of a world would you leave behind? A world without you, that's what, and that's a world lacking something great." Wally was having a hard time keeping his voice level, Dick could tell. He swallowed, staring transfixed into Wally's emerald eyes.

"First of all, you're Robin. You're a superhero. What kind of a message would you be sending the world if… if the Boy Wonder of all people committed s-suicide?" Wally seemed to choke on the last two words. Dick didn't say anything; his throat felt too dry. He remembered seeing that passerby on the street below him. What would he have thought seeing Robin fall out of the sky?

"Dick." Just that one word, his name, and the boy felt tears pricking the backs of his lids. He forced himself to keep a straight expression, although he wasn't sure how well he was doing. He felt so numb. Wally dug his fingers subconsciously into Dick's shoulders. "What about the people in your life, Rob? What about all those…" He nodded towards the fire where the charred remains of the letters were entombed.

"What about Bruce? He's not your real father, I know that, and maybe he's not the most sympathetic guy, but he still cares for you. You know what Uncle Barry once told me? He said that after Bruce took you in, he was a different man. He said that he saw Bruce smile for the first time in years when he first told him about you. I think he loves you, in his own way, I really do. You just don't see that, do you?" Wally shook Dick's shoulders lightly, as if to make him see sense. Dick wanted to say something; like how he knew that Bruce loved him, but it just… it wasn't the same… But his throat was still numb and he couldn't get a word out.

"What about Alfred?" Wally continued, and Dick bit his lip. "Isn't he like a grandfather to you? Remember that time that you got stabbed in the gut by one of the Penguin's umbrellas and Alfred said that he'd always be there to patch you up?" He paused. "Well, I don't remember what exactly he said, but it was something like that. He made you a promise that he'd always be there to take care of you. Are you seriously just going to break that promise on your end?" Dick watched him silently.

"What about… what about Babs? You wrote her a letter too," Wally said bitterly. "You have a family, Dick, you just don't see it. Bruce and Alfred, of course, but what about Babs? You told me once that she was like a sister to you. If not a sister, then at least a good friend. She is the only person your age who knows both sides of you, who can be there for you while you're in Gotham as 'Dick Grayson'. And vice-versa for her. Have you ever thought about what a help you are to her?"

Dick felt waves of guilt wash over him as he saw tears gather in the corners of Wally's eyes. Honestly, he'd never known Wally was this perceptive. He wanted to say something, to stop this flow of words from Wally's mouth. Each sentence the redhead said only made him want to sink into the sofa and disappear. He couldn't bear to look at Wally any longer so he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the next onslaught. The fingers gripping his shoulders tightened momentarily.

"What about the team?" Wally's voice wavered. "What about Connor, and Artemis, and Kaldur? What about Zatanna?" It could have just been his imagination, but it sounded like the speedster's voice darkened at that last question. What was so special about Zatanna, and why would Wally care? Dick mused wordlessly. "What about M'gann? How do you think she would feel?" Dick saw in his mind's eye the sweet, soft-spoken M'gann, and didn't want to think about how she would feel. "Or Roy… he's not part of the team anymore, but still. Don't you think they would blame themselves in some way or another?" And that made him think of Kaldur. "You're part of our team, Robin. You're our colleague, and you're also our friend. Think about how many times one of them have saved your skin, sometimes putting their own lives in danger. Do you want that to all be in vain?"

Dick wanted to point out that more often than not it was him saving their skin, but he figured that was really not appropriate right now. Besides, his vocal chords still seemed to be out of function. He heard Wally take a deep breath and so he opened his eyes carefully. Because he knew what was next. And he wished, oh how he wished, that he didn't have to hear that which Wally was about to tell him.

"What…" Wally faltered. His voice was hoarse from talking so much, but his eyes flashed with determination. "What about… me?" His fingers dug into Dick's shoulders in a death-grip, not that either of them noticed.  "Don't I mean anything to you?" Dick felt the tears that had been threatening for so long finally burst out and stream silently down his cheeks. He wanted to shout and scream that that was exactly the problem: Wally meant so much to him, too much to him. More than he would ever know.

"Dick, you're my best friend. You trusted me with all your secrets, as did I. We were bros for life, remember? I thought we were…" He paused, his expression pained. "Dick, I… l love you. Maybe… maybe more than just a best friend, but that's not the point," he rushed quickly, a blush dusting his freckled cheeks. Dick stared at him blankly. Had Wally just… confessed to him? Or was his demented mind hearing things again?

"How could you do something like this to me? Without telling me anything? How did you expect me to keep on living with that… just… what the hell were you thinking? I could have lost you forever…" His voice faded to a whisper. "What would have happened if I hadn't grabbed you right then? What would have happened if I had come one second too late?" Wally paused, eyes boring into Dick's. The firelight glinted off the tear-tracks on his cheeks. But no, Dick wasn't hearing things. It was all real; the tears streaking down Wally's cheeks were real, the raw pain in his eyes was real, and the trembling hands that gripped his shoulders were real.

"Promise me… Dick, promise me you won't do something like that again. Please, you have to promise me. I can't… I just can't…" He choked on a sob, unable to finish the sentence.

Dick's hand dropped from his cheek, which had stopped hurting long ago. Instead, he wrapped it around Wally's neck, pulling him towards him suddenly with a force that surprised both of them. Their lips smashed together rather ungainly, but Dick couldn't bring himself to care. No, he just closed his eyes and pressed himself into Wally's body and into the kiss, clinging to his warmth. He'd never kissed anyone on the lips before, but this just felt so right. Wally's lips were chaffed but soft against his own, and they tasted of something sweet mixed with the salty taste of their mixed tears. Every part of him that Wally touched burned with a raw heat, coursing through his veins and setting his nerves on fire.

Wally had stiffened the moment their lips touched, but when he realized that this had been Dick's intention, he seemed to fall apart. Unable to keep himself upright, he fell on top of his best friend, their bodies molding together. He wrapped his arms possessively around him without breaking the kiss.  

The younger boy felt an incomprehensible feeling of joy surge through him when Wally responded.  Dick was warm. And it wasn't only from the fire, or the new clothes, or Wally's hot lips on his own. No, this was a different kind of warmth… it came from the inside. It was the kind of warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. It was the warmth of being loved, of being wanted, of knowing there was someone who cared about him in a way he never thought he could be cared about.

He didn't let go of Wally's neck even when they finally broke apart, gasping for breath. Wally's eyes were half-lidded as he rested his forehead against Dick's, their breath intermingling.

"Wow… …okay…" murmured Wally and Dick grinned at him, reveling in the dazed and wondered expression he could read in his green eyes. "Was that… was that your promise?" he questioned, eyes carefully darting over Dick's face.

Dick leaned up to peck Wally softly on the lips, his touch feather-light.

"Now it's sealed with a kiss," he hummed, his voice barely audible. He realized vaguely that that was the first thing he had said all night. "I promise I won't ever do something like this again, not after tonight."

Wally smiled and reached up to wipe the last traces of tears from both of their faces. He ran his fingers through Dick's hair, and the boy almost purred at his touch.

"Okay… I'll remind you of that every time we kiss." They smiled at each other, unblemished happiness on their faces. Wally settled more comfortably on the couch, wrapping his arms tightly around Dick's smaller frame. Content at last, Dick closed his eyes, snuggling more securely into Wally's grasp.


Half an hour later, Barry and Iris opened the living-room door, followed closely by Bruce Wayne who had come looking for his missing ward. The three of them froze in the doorway, beholding the sight before them. Even Bruce's mouth twitched at the corners seeing the two boys wrapped tightly in each other's arms, the sweetest of smiles mirrored on their sleeping faces. Deciding simultaneously to leave them in peace, they retreated silently.

The door closed softly behind them.
Another one-shot, this one with a darker theme. Dick misses the warmth... Kind of based on personal experience. Hope you enjoy!

If anyone thinks this needs a warning please tell me...

More like this on my FF account here: [link]

Fanfic (c) ~Robin-Red-R
Dick/Robin, Wally/KF and anyone else I mentioned (c) Young Justice DC
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Nezumi lay in his bed, his small white-haired friend laying beside him, fast asleep. He wasn't entirely sure how the two of them had come to sharing a bed. His guess was that Shion must have accidentally fallen asleep on his bed, and Nezumi himself didn't want to take the couch. After that night, Shion must have thought it was okay to take the bed any night. Thus, they had somehow reached the point where they were sharing a bed every night.

The grey-haired boy sighed quietly. He wasn't used to having half of his sleeping space taken.
However, despite this, Nezumi was just about to drift into sleep, until Shion randomly sat up. This made Nezumi flinch, since Shion was in a deep sleep just seconds before, and didn't even shift around before sitting up. After Shion sat there for awhile, Nezumi eventually decided to question his friend.

"Oi..." Nezumi said as he sat up and brought a hand to Shion's shoulder.

Shion didn't respond, and Nezumi sat up further to look at his face. His red eyes were half-lidded, and it seemed like there was nothing behind them. Nezumi quickly brought a hand to his mouth to silence his laugh. He didn't want to wake up his sleep walking friend just yet. He brought his hand up in front of Shion face and waved it a bit, to make sure he was really out of it.

"Oi, Shion, what are you up to?" Nezumi asked and snickered a bit. He wanted to see if Sleep-Shion would respond.

"What could he be dreaming about right now? A nightmare?" Nezumi thought. His light grey eyes stared into Shion's red ones, as if he could find the answer in them. He sadistically wanted him to be having a nightmare, so that he could possibly have fun teasing him.

After getting no response, Nezumi gave Shion a smile that showed that he was admitting defeat. He brought his hand to Shion's pearly white hair and ruffled it a bit.

"What's going on through your head, Shion?" Nezumi asked quietly.

Shion then reached his hand out and gripped onto Nezumi's night shirt.

"Eh?" Nezumi questioned as he continued to stare at Shion's face. He was definitely still asleep, unless he was secretly a very talented actor.

Shion then brought another hand to Nezumi's shirt and slowly pushed him down on his back. Nezumi couldn't help but let out a laugh this time.

"What are you---" Nezumi continued to laugh, but stopped immediately when Shion climbed on top of him and straddled his hips.

"Is he having THAT kind of dream?" Nezumi thought. He stared up at the drowsy-eyed boy above him.

Shion then gripped both of Nezumi's wrists, pinning him to the bed. A blush swept across Nezumi's face. He was starting to lose his amusement in Shion's sleep walking. He opened his mouth to yell loudly for Shion to wake up, but Shion spoke first.

"Safu..." Shion mumbled.

With his mouth still open, Nezumi found himself too stunned to yell. His eyes grew wide, and then slowly formed into a scowl. He then roughly kicked the sleeping boy off of himself.

"Whaaa!" Shion exclaimed as he finally woke up and landed on the end of the bed.

"You moron!" Nezumi yelled angrily, his face flushed in rage. Shion rubbed his head in confusion.

"I will not be a replacement!" Nezumi continued to yell.

"Re-replacement?" Shion mumbled.

"What happened?" He thought, "I was dreaming, and then... pain in my chest... what was I dreaming about?"

"You lied to me again!" Nezumi realized, and gripped Shion's shirt collar, "When I asked if you would take up her offer, you TOLD me she was just a FRIEND!"

Shion simply stared at Nezumi. He had no clue what was going on.

"Ah, that's right," Shion thought, "I was dreaming.. about the past... I was a kid, and Safu was there too... We were in a tickle fight..."

Shion rubbed his eyes sleepily, but Nezumi got his attention again by pulling him closer by his shirt.

"I told you that lying to someone is like looking down on them," Nezumi said, his voice deep and threatening. His scowling eyes matched his voice.

"How did I lie to you?" Shion asked as he slowly became more awake.

Nezumi paused. He was too embarrassed to tell Shion what had happened.

"Why am I so bothered by this anyway?" Nezumi thought. He released his grip on Shion's shirt and laid back down. He wrapped the sheet around himself and turned away so that he was no longer facing Shion.

"Its nothing," he grumbled, "Just.. whatever you ate last night, don't eat it again. It made you have nightmares."

"Nightmares?" Shion repeated. "Was I acting weird in my sleep?"
Nezumi didn't answer, and Shion pouted.

"I don't know what I did to make you mad, but, I'm sorry..." Shion said sadly.

"Just shut up and go to bed." Nezumi grumbled again.

This time, it was Shion's turn to scowl. He grabbed Nezumi's shoulder and turned him so that they were looking at each other face to face.

"I can't just shut up and go to bed!" Shion complained, "If I did something to upset you.. how can I sleep? You're the most important person to me... I at least want to know what I did."

Nezumi stared at him with his eyes wide. He then let out a chuckle.

"Most important person? You're lying again." Nezumi said. He wanted to turn away again, but Shion still had his grip on his shoulder.

"How can I prove it then?" Shion asked.

"Let go." Nezumi demanded.

"How can I?" Shion asked again, louder this time.

"Let go!" Nezumi yelled and gave Shion a glare.

"Nezumi!" Shion yelled. Nezumi grabbed Shion's wrist and yanked his hand of his shoulder. Shion used his free hand to slap Nezumi's arm away, and quickly leaned down and kissed Nezumi.

Nezumi was stunned yet again. He never closed his eyes for the whole kiss, he just stared into Shion's closed ones. Once the kiss was done, Shion gradually opened his red eyes. Nezumi then realized that his hand was in his pocket, gripping his knife. He must have instinctively done that after his hand was slapped away.

"You're really.... reckless, you know that?" Nezumi pointed out. If Shion had moved a bit slower, Nezumi would have had his knife at his neck.

"I don't care. I don't care if I'm reckless. If I want to kiss you, then I'll kiss you," Shion said bluntly.

Nezumi scowled.

"So you think you can just do it whenever you want?" Nezumi questioned.

"Yes," Shion said, and leaned down to kiss him again. However, the taller boy stopped him this time by gripping his shoulders. Shion scowled down at Nezumi.

"How else can I prove it to you?" Shion asked, and tears began to form in his eyes. Nezumi noticed this, and his anger began to fade. The white-haired boy had that power over him. He didn't release his hands though.

"Fine, I believe you." Nezumi said, and let out a sigh. Shion continued to cry as if he didn't hear him. The grey-haired boy decided to let go of the smaller boy's shoulders.

"You can kiss me now if you want." Nezumi said, but Shion didn't budge.

"Moron..." Nezumi grumbled and grabbed Shion's face with both hands, and pulled him down into a kiss. In between kisses, Shion cried.

"I'm sorry... whatever I did..." Shion cried.

"Just forget about it," Nezumi said, and continued to kiss him. He then finished the kiss by placing one last kiss on the crying boy's forehead.

"Now let's go back to bed now, alright?" Nezumi suggested. Shion sniffled and nodded, but instead of laying in his spot on the bed, he curled up against Nezumi.

"....Looks like I have less bed space now, than ever...."
I had written this fanfic a few weeks ago, and thought I might as well just post it so that it won't go to waste.
I had kind of given up on it, but at least I was able to finish it. So yeah, its kind of poorly written. I didn't nearly spend as much time on this one as I did on my newer No.6 fanfic: [link]

Preview Image: [link]
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 “Jareth, darling, it’s time to get up.”

“Not yet, Precious.  Can’t I admire you here next to me a little longer?”

“You can do it in and out of bed, my husband.  Now, do I have to mess up your hair to get you moving, or will you simply be a dear and come over to help me out of bed?”

“Perhaps if you kiss me first, I would help you willingly.”

“Six months we have been married, and already you are spoiled.  What shall I do with you?”

“You could start by kissing me,” said Jareth, slowly stretching next to Sarah.

“I suppose it wouldn't hurt.  It can only help me right now.”

“Help you with what?” asked Jareth worriedly.

“With what I need to say to you.  Unfortunately, it requires me to leave for a few hours, but I promise it won’t be long, and then we can talk about it all you want.”

“What has happened? Is it about the family?”

“In a way, yes.  It affects them, but more you.  I think you’ll be happy, Jareth.”

Now he was next to her, holding her hand.  “Well, what is it?”

“I’m pregnant.  I’m going to the doctor for a check-up, then visiting Karen for more help.  I didn't want to tell you until I knew for sure.”

“Is that why you visited the healer a few days ago?”


“Do you know if it is a boy or girl, yet?”

“No, it is still too early.  But, we are going to be parents.  Isn't that wonderful?”

The joyful glow in Sarah’s face was matched perfectly by the smile on Jareth's face.  The hug they shared then was more reverential than any, but just as warm and tender.

“In that case, Sarah, I am going to have to be extra careful with you now.  Perhaps you will allow me to carry you around bridal-style more often now.”

“Keep dreaming, Jareth dearest.  I’m a strong, independent woman who can handle most things on her own still, even if I like letting you help me because I love you.”

“I’ll bide my time, Precious,” he said before kissing her.  “I’ll have you in my arms soon.”

“Perhaps I can be convinced later tonight, after I get back.”

“Oh, you will be.”

“We shall see.  In the meantime, I have to leave now to go see a doctor Aboveground, but I’ll be back later.  Stay out of mischief in the meantime.”

“Me, get into mischief? Whatever made you think I would go and do that?”

“Considering the wide grin on your face, I wouldn't put anything past you.  Try not to take over anymore kingdoms for the future heir while I am out, okay?”

“Anything for you, Precious,” he replied bowing.

“Good.  I love you.”

“I love you, too.  Be safe.”


And so, Jareth was alone in his bedroom, and he felt great! He almost felt like roaring, but refrained, for fear of the goblins coming in to check on him.  It was time for breakfast, and then he could plan his night with Sarah.

After sitting down, he realized that Sarah’s place had been set for her.  Normally, he would just tell the goblins to stop being silly and kick one for not realizing that Sarah wasn’t there, but he was feeling happy and adventurous today.  It was time for a slight change as he looked at Sarah’s spot.

Yes, the chefs would have to start preparing Sarah different foods now that she was eating for two, and more dresses would be needed to accommodate her eventual size.  He made a mental note to contact the main clothiers, for new clothes for her, and maybe another pair of gloves for himself, to celebrate the grand occasion.  Maybe another pair of boots as well.

But, getting back to food, Jareth began to wonder about the hot mug that Sarah now drank every morning.  While they had been dating, Sarah never drank coffee, and then right after they got married, she started drinking it, as, according to her, she now had a reason to drink it.  He grinned to himself as he thought about why she was not sleeping as much at night now, and was satisfied with that.  It helped that they had a child coming, too. 

However, the question still remained: what was in this black coffee that she drank every morning? Why was it necessary to bring it from Aboveground to drink it? How could it possibly keep her that awake? There was only one thing to do, and that was to try it for himself.  He took a sip, and found that not only did he like the smell, but the taste as well. Since it had been sitting long enough, it was also the perfect temperature to drink, so he finished off that mug quickly, and asked for another to be brought around.

When the goblins finally came to take the mug and the rest of Sarah’s settings, Jareth enjoyed kicking two goblins, and found that his legs had some extra “kick” in them today, which made him feel even better.  The goblins “Ooo'd” and “Aww'd” in appropriate wonder, which prompted Jareth to say, “If my legs are still feeling this good in an hour, I will be glad to try an even higher kick on more of you, as I am feeling particularly generous today.”

“Why is Kingy feelin' so gen'rous?” asked one of the goblins.

“Because, as of this morning, I found out from your beautiful Queen that we are to be blessed with a little one, at last.  There will still be court held for an hour after this to settle disputes, but after that, it shall be a holiday for all.”

Universals cries of joy and “Congrats!” were being shouted everywhere, and already, talk began of the great party and new songs that would be created and sung in honor of this great occasion.  Chaos would have broken out, were it not for the loud roars from Jareth as he shouted for order and his coffee.

Normally, he didn't like all of the noise that came from the goblins, but today, it fit his mood well.  In fact, he felt like singing at that moment, but decided it best to wait until after court, to give maximum time to see if the coffee would actually affect him.  He rather doubted it, but he was willing to try.

After a second cup, he decided that he was still thirsty, so he asked for another cup to be put next to his throne so that he could drink as he listened to his subjects.  The hour went quickly, as most of the complaints were about ownership of chickens, so he relied on his best method for determining: flipping a coin.  So often, the goblins lived so close to one another that it was hard to tell where the chickens lived, as half the time the chickens just wandered about anyway.  Jareth decided to change things up a bit by occasionally just taking the chicken from both, and then kicking them both out of the court (to even louder squeals of delight). 

His legs had become quite jittery, for lack of a better word.  Skittish, perhaps.  Either way, he felt a need to use his legs more, and so he did.

When court was ended for the day, the noise level increased until one goblin asked whether there would still be more kicking.  That got everyone quiet as they listened anxiously for Jareth's answer.  Thankfully, Jareth was happy to oblige, so a line of the first twenty goblins got to be kicked, with goblins judging based on height and how long they made noises of awe.  By the end, Jareth had broken his personal best record of twelve feet three times, pleasing him.  The problem was, he still felt as though he had a lot of energy, and had no idea what to do.

After the goblins left to go drink and party, Jareth decided to speak to the cooks.  It didn't last long, as he was suddenly feeling rather exasperated with them as they were going too slow for his liking.  Impatience got the better of him, so he made it clear to them which foods were to be given to Sarah, to keep her happy.  Much chocolate disappeared from Aboveground that day, as the goblins had strict orders to do “whatever was necessary” to get and keep the chocolate for Sarah, and Sarah alone.  Bogging was the punishment for anyone who ate chocolate without Jareth controlling it, so there was more reason to obtain it.

Once the food was taken care of, Jareth proceeded onto the task of ordering clothes.  New dresses were ordered, with the understanding that she would be measured once a week, to officially record what size dress was needed, and unofficially, to see how big she was getting.  After that, Jareth indulged in a new pair of leather gloves and boots.  His collection of leather gloves was quite extensive, a different pair for each special occasion.  The amount of new gloves created during Sarah’s run alone was enough to keep Jareth reordering time for the goblins so that they had enough time to prepare for each meeting he had with Sarah.  After that, he thought it a good idea to get Sarah another pair of gloves, and would have had a pair prepared for the new addition, were it not for the fact that he still did not know the gender.  That put a slight dent in his plans, as a new wardrobe could not be created yet, but at the very least, he could have boots made, since male and female wore them.  Their child would have the most adorable leather booties ever known.

When Jareth was satisfied with the clothiers, he was still thirsty, so he had another cup of coffee.  He still did not feel the effects somehow, and since he was in a musical mood, he decided to see if any goblins had moved to the throne room. 

Normally, Jareth had to be in a very good mood to want to sing, and an even better one to dance while singing.  However, at this moment, he was still so proud of his accomplishments that he felt like dancing in his underwear, an event not universally known, except by Sarah of course.  She had that magical effect on him, and occasionally he indulged her whims when she asked him.  Sometimes the dance became interactive as he grabbed Sarah by the wrist or waist, but he never saw her complaining when he did that. All the same, he was not going to do that now, but later tonight was a very real possibility.  That and carrying her bridal-style, as he enjoyed doing that.

Once Jareth poofed himself into the throne room, he found just the audience he was looking for.  The goblins were already in the partying mode, but he had their rapt attention once he began.  Everyone loved watching as Jareth did his rendition of “I've got a lovely bunch of crystal balls”.  The verses changed every time as he sang of what he had and would do with them, but it always started and ended the same.

Several songs after that, Jareth left the throne room to raucous shouts and encores, and now he actually felt tired.  Nope, that coffee did not affect him.  However, a nap right now was not wise, as there was still more he wanted to do, and it might disturb his sleep schedule.  Instead of coffee, he had some of Sarah’s chocolate, as he was fond of a candy bar now and then.  After having two chocolate bars, he went outside to speak to various other goblins about having lunch and getting ready for when Sarah came back. 

After eating and talking, Jareth went to find roses in the gardens, as Sarah loved the smell of roses in their room.  He spread half of the petals artfully in their room, and then the other half when he didn’t like the job he did the first time and reordered time to fix it.  After a few hours doing that, he felt like pacing, as he was now feeling antsy again.  That would not do.

Going back to the throne room, Jareth still felt like pacing, which made him feel irritable, but with so much energy, he felt like singing, again! He didn't know what he wanted to sing, but some part of him was feeling the cabin fever, so after going through three different changes of clothing within ten minutes, much to the awe of the already drunk goblins, Jareth settled on wearing a sombrero with an appropriate outfit and lots of glitter.  As he danced, he gave the goblins spoons to attempt to keep up with the beat he clapped, deciding against maracas as they might become popular at all parties.  That, or they would all get destroyed as the goblins tried to figure out how they made noise.  Some goblins attempted to copy Jareth's moves, but going in a circle was difficult for some.  Jareth helped by throwing them up in the air, or kicking if they preferred it.

It was as Jareth came to the finale of the song he was dancing to that he got down on his knees as though about to do an air guitar solo when Sarah suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Sarah! You’re back at last!”

“And in the nick of time, too! What in bognation are you attempting to do?”

“Naturally,” he said smoothly as he got up and kissed her, “I was posing to greet my fair Queen.”

“With a sombrero on your head? The last time that happened had been at your bachelor party.”

“How did you hear about that? That night was special.”

“Sorry, but my dad was so entertained by that image of you that he told me about it right before we got married.”

“Is that why you were grinning so much as you walked down the aisle?”

“Partly.  That, and, you look amazing in a tuxedo.”

“Of course I do,” he said, practically preening.

“Well, now you know that, and I am hungry.  Shall we eat while we let the goblins celebrate?”

“Sounds like a good idea to me.  All this dancing really helps to work up an appetite.”

After a long dinner discussing all that had happened that day, Jareth took Sarah to the library to show her the new plans he had made for the nursery, as well as show the new spot he had created for her while she read, so that she could read to their little one as well.  The only place with more pillows was their bedroom.  Then, he showed her where the nursery would be, and all the work he had set in motion while she was out, and then they went to their bedroom, for the last surprise.

The kiss Sarah and Jareth shared once the door was closed was very pleasurable and repeated multiple times for maximum results.  Then, Jareth showed her his new dance, and he joined her on their bed, quite worn out.

“I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel as though I could sleep for several days, Precious.  Why is this?”

“Well, based on all that you have done today alone, between several hours of singing and dancing, planning for us, court, and arranging all this, I’d say you have done several days of work all in one day.  Usually, you take your time, or the goblins slow things down, but not today.”

“Oh no, not today.  I had no patience today, so they did everything asked of them.”

“When did you start feeling impatient, Jareth?”

“Right after taking my first sip of-“

“Sip of what?”

“Coffee.  Did I mention that I tried your coffee today? I only had four cups of it.”

“Four? No wonder you were dancing so much! I get shaky after having two cups.”

“No wonder I felt so skittish today.  Perhaps it did affect me after all.”

“Perhaps? Oh, it definitely did.”

It was then that the sound of spoons being played terribly could be heard rising throughout the kingdom in a rather coordinated effort by the goblins.  It seemed they were trying to keep it in time with the song they were singing: “Hail to Our Victor, Sarah”.

“That’s it, Jareth.  No more coffee for you, ever.”  

Author’s Disclaimer: No, I still do not own Labyrinth, nor any of the songs that I make reference to.  All rights go to their respective
owners.  Also, while coffee puts me to sleep, it tends to affect everyone else in the opposite way, so I figured this would work.  Jareth is having a good day and is now hyper (or as close as he will ever be).  This story focuses on Jareth, but S/J is implied, as always :D

This is so silly and fluffy, but what do you expect out of me, honestly? The idea for Hyper!Jareth comes from a plot bunny thrown at me by ~Kyndsie, and then my mind went places. I figured that if anything would excite Jareth, it would be coffee, since he probably would have tea/nothing Underground. And, he loves Sarah, so if there was ever a time that he would be happy would be either: when he’s getting married, winning an argument with Sarah, or involving their kids. Also, some credit goes to ~NikiMaweird, whose comment regarding goblins and underwear sparked a variation of that theme in this story. You're welcome for the images. Also, in case you were wondering about the songs, the first can be heard in The Lion King, the second in a Muppets movie, and third I expect no one to know (as it involves college sports).

Also, I heard from ~Kyndsie that she needs a sufficient bribe for her to consider posting a second story in November, so this is Part 1 of my bribe. And she posted another story!!! :-) Also, I have now seen that *Ravenshymn has added something, too, to help with bribes. I like these odds :-)
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The Burrow had no mirrors.There were rectangular patches on the walls where the paint was less faded than the rest of the wall.These patches mapped out where the mirrors once were.

George could no longer look in the mirror.

The first night home after the battle he cut his hand open when the caught his reflection in the mirror.He opened his mouth, his lips forming his twin's name, and with a realization that shook him, he snapped.Fred was gone.

He would never speak to him again, or hear his laughhe would never pull another prank, or pretend to be Fred just to see if they could get away with switching.

There was no Fred.

He walked from room to room, smashing each mirror he passed.Every time he caught a glimpse of that fiery red hair, those eyes, he couldn't bear it.

His family tried comforting him.They tried comforting him.The tried reaching out, calming him down.

There was little point.It wouldn't bring Fred back.

The days grew longer, and George often found himself spending his days alone in the room he had once shared with his best friend.

The desk in the corner was piled high with long forgotten inventions for the shop.George would sometimes fiddle with them, but he had lost his passion for the trade.

George was sitting on Fred's bed when there was a soft knock on the door.

"George, honey, can I come in?"Molly's voice was soft, as if she was speaking to a frightened child.When George didn't respond she came in.

Molly had lost a lot of weight since Fred died.She looked older, the flecks of grey in her hair caught the light.She moved around the room, picking up stray socks and clothes that littered the floor.

George watched her silently.He was used to this by now, used to everyone tiptoeing around him.They all acted as if he was about to break.Maybe he was.

Molly sighed and reached for the wrinkled blue jumper that was slumped over the desk chair.

"Don't touch that!"George yelled.

Molly jumped, pulling her hand back quickly."What?"she asked, turning to look at George.

"Don't touch that,"George said, his tone softer, "it still smells like him."

Molly looked at the sweater and sighed."Alright, alright."She tightened her hold on the pile of dirty clothes and scurried to the door.She stopped and look back to George."Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."With that she left, closing the door softly behind her.

George sighed heavily, lying back and staring up at the ceiling.He was alone.Alone with his thoughts and the aching in his chest.

Days passed and turned into weeks.George wore the same shirt everyday, the F on it causing more hurt than comfort.

More than once he had came into a room and seen the pain cross his sister's face.On several occasions his brothers had done double takes.But it was the silence that shook him to his core.The fact that his home had become a house where no one ever smiled, or laughed, or really even spoke.

It wasn't until two months had passed that George finally left the house.He wandered the streets, looking in various shop windows that he passed.

His feet seemed to be leading him towards the shop.George didn't fight it.He knew that sooner or later he would have to return.Fred would have wanted that.

George stopped in front of the joke shop, his emotions getting the better of him.He just stood, staring into the dark windows.

"That place is always closed,"came a small voice behind George.

He jumped and turned, looking down at the small boy.He was no more than nine years old, with a crop of soft brown hair and big blue eyes.

"I come all the time,"the boy continued, "but it's never open."

George stared at the boy, then looked back at the sign."I know."

"'T's too bad,"the boy said, burying his hands in his pockets."My brother said this was the best shop."

George nodded."It was."

"Hope it opens soon,"the boy said, kicking the ground.."I've been sav-"

"There you are!"A tall witch hurried over, her gaze moving from the boy to the man standing beside him.

"Hi mum."

"Don't 'hi mum' me,"the woman scolded, grabbing the boy's shoulder."You know better than to run off like that."She eyed George warily.

"Sorry mum," the boy whispered.

"Well, let's go Freddie,"she turned her back on the two and started waking away.

George's eyes widened and he looked at the boy again.

Freddie gave George a small smile."Bye Mister,"he said before dashing after his mother.

"Bye Fred,"George whispered, watching the two go.He turned back to the store and pulled the key from his pocket.There was no time to waste.He had to get this place ready for it's grand re-opening.
Everytime he caught his reflection in the mirror it broke his heart.

George struggles to find himself after the loss of his best friend. His partner in crime. His best friend.
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A Labyrinth Song Crackfic

I threw a wish in the well.
Don’t ask me, I’ll never tell;
I looked to you as it fell,
And now I have a dream.

It’s Valentine’s Day,
And I am lonely,
So I came to this party,
And now I want my dream.

Your stare was holdin’
Red leather, skin was showin’
Hot room, windows open
Where you think you’re going, baby?

Hey, I just met you,
And this is crazy,
But here’s my number,
So call me, maybe.

Loud music blaring,
Hot bodies grinding,
Someone takes my hand,
And we make a stand!

We dance all night long
With no grinding at all,
Wearing a cute mask,
And some hot, tight pants.

He takes me outside
To be by his side,
And we just chat
In the pale moonlight.

It’s hard to look right,
At you baby,
But here’s my number,
So call me, maybe?

Hey, I just met you,
And this is crazy,
But here’s my number,
So call me, baby?

He looks so surprised,
By the look in his eyes,
But he smiles anyways,
And I still want my dream.

And all the other boys
Try to chase me,
But here’s my number,
So call me, baby?

Your stare was holdin’,
Poet shirt, skin was showin’
Hot room, windows open
Where you think you’re going, baby?

Hey, I just met you,
And this is crazy,
But here’s my number,
So call me, baby?

And all the other boys
Try to chase me,
But here’s my number,
So call me, baby?

It’s hard to look right,
At you baby,
But here’s my number,
So call me, baby?

Hey, I just met you,
And this is crazy,
But here’s my number,
So call me, baby?

Before you came into my life
I missed you so bad.
I missed you so bad.
I missed you so, so bad.

Before you came into my life
I missed you so bad,
And you should know that
So call me, baby?

And then the clock strikes,
As he unmasks,
And there stands Jareth
Saying he’ll call me later.

Now all the other boys
Run away from me,
Because I have Jareth,
Who is far more manly.
No, I do not own Labyrinth, or Call Me Maybe. All rights to respective owners. A little something for Valentine’s Day, from Sarah’s POV when she attends a party and meets a mysterious stranger. Enjoy!!! If you have any ideas or comments on the rhyme scheme/poetry, please let me know! I'd love to hear all, for another project I'm working on. Thanks! :-)

Happy Valentine's Day!

EDIT: This was featured somewhere!!! Thanks, *Andaelentari!!!…
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***Warning Bluepulse and slight boy x boy do not comment or read if you are not a fan***

The soft snip of scissors echoed through Bart’s ears as he stared at the pile of pink and purple paper hearts sitting before him. Jamie sat across from him humming quietly as he cut the hearts and placed them in neat piles in front of him. Bart tapped his feet anxiously as the heavenly aroma of sugar cookies made it’s way up his nose.

Jaime finished the last heart and looked over to Bart. “What ese?” He asked raising an eyebrow to the younger boy.

“Why are we doing this again?” Bart asked scratching his head and turning to look over his head for the hundredth time hoping that the oven would go off soon.

Jaime set down the scissors and folded his arms onto the table and stared at Bart, “Its for Valentines Day. Are you really telling me you have no idea what that is?”

Bart nodded and again looked back into the kitchen the smell clearly getting to him. “I don’t really understand the concept of this holiday… hearts, pink, red roses, candy… I don’t get it.”

“Well for starters you aren’t getting any of those cookies so you can stop looking in my kitchen,” Jaime glared at the boy, but relaxed as Bart turned around slight disappointment in his eyes, “second it is a day to celebrate love and the people that matter to you. Kind of a day to show that special someone what they mean to you.”

Bart nodded then pointed to the hearts piled on the table, “So what are these for?”

“They are called valentines, you write little notes on them and decorate them if you want and give them to people.”


“Yes anyone. But you can make the one for the person who you adore most the best…”

“I wish I knew about these holidays more, it would have been nice to give things like this out to the people who meant…. A lot to me.” Bart sighed and turned back to face the kitchen and rest his chin on the back of the chair. And not this time to await the sound of the kitchen timer. This time to hide the small tears forming in his eyes.

Jamie looked over at Bart with concern and stared down at the pile of hearts. He was planning on giving one to each member of his family and of course to everyone on the team. But there were a lot of extras and Bart had wanted to help… Jaime cleared his throat, “You want to make some hermano?” Bart looked back at Jaime a confused look on his face as he quickly wiped a few small tears off of his face. “Valentines, I mean.” Jaime smiled holding up a few of the hearts.

Bart grinned and grabbed the hearts out Jaime’s hands in an instant and grabbed a blue pen and got to work jotting a few things on the first heart. Jaime smiled as he watched the brunette scribble quickly words of endearment. He wondered who they were to and if he would get one.

Do not be selfish, Jamie Reyes.

Jaime almost jumped at the sudden voice in his head. He glared and looked down at the pile of hearts before him and grabbed one and started to write. But the scarab was right he shouldn’t be thinking like that, he would love to get a note from Bart but it really wouldn’t kill him if he didn’t. Or would it?

Jaime couldn’t lie Bart meant a lot to him and he loved that the boy had trust in him. No matter what the future seemed to hold. Bart had become his best friend and one that meant just a little something more than Ty. Jaime sighed as he wrote a small note to Garf and continued to be lost in thought.

Bart looked over at Jamie and smirked as he jotted some things down on the current heart in front of him. It was a blue heart and he wrote in a dark black pen to be sure that the recipient could read what he wrote. Then the shrill beep of the oven sounded and Bart was on his feet and in the kitchen within seconds. Bart flicked on the light in the oven and stared at the beautiful heart shaped cookies sitting on the tray.

“Hey you coming?!” Bart yelled to the elder teen still sitting at the table.

Jaime jumped a little before turning to look at Bart. He instantly realized what was going on and hoped out of the chair and started towards the kitchen, “If you eat any of those hermano….”

Bart just laughed, “ I won’t I promise.” Bart grinned and reached to the counter and threw the oven mitts at Jaime, “Think fast!”

Jaime caught the mitts and rolled his eyes at Bart as he slipped them on and turned to the oven. Carefully he pulled out each tray setting them on the counter to cool. Jaime watched as Bart came dangerously close to the cookies and inhaled their sweet scent.

Bart backed up and looked directly at Jaime whose arms were crossed and his face wore a scolding look. “What?! I promise I won’t!” Bart yelled holding his arms to his chest before speeding around the teen and ended up back in the dinning area to finish his valentines.

“Dios mio…” Jaime muttered as he slowly trudged back to the table to finish his valentines. Jamie sat down and looked at the valentine he had been working on earlier. It was to Bart and a noting much was written on it, the word Bart was curled up in the top left corner of the heart with a small doodle of a curling heart in the other corner. The boy took a deep breath in before picking up another pen and started to write.

Bart leaned back in the chair and stared at the small pile of notes in front of him. He wrote them to the people that meant a lot to him, his family of course and a few of the members of the team. He hadn’t really wanted to make little “love notes” for everyone on the team since he didn’t really know all of them that well and he didn’t really want to. They did not mean that much to him, besides what was he really going to put in a note to Superboy, Lucky your strong cause you got a grip on me,,,, Bart just shook his head and looked back up to the dark haired boy across from him. He had been working on the same valentine for quite some time now. He wondered who it was to.

Bart zipped out of the chair and quietly leaned over Jaime’s shoulder. Jaime appeared oblivious to the boy next to him so Bart leaned closer to get a better read.

From a far place and date you came

To save a world in ashes you say

You decided to trust and befriend me

The one thing that started your misery

Why I will never know

You move at the speed of sound

But at that speed can you really hear

What you mean to me?



Bart felt a small tear form in his eye and as he reached up to wipe it away, he lightly bumped Jaime. Jaime jumped and let out a small cry. He looked up to Bart shocked and quickly covered the heart.

Bart grinned, “Whose that one to Jaime?” Jamie’s cheeks turned a light pink and he glared down at the table. Bart heard Jaime mutter something in Spanish, which only made the younger boy chuckle. “Hey how about we decorate those cookies?” Bart sped back into the kitchen and had a can of frosting open and was already starting the first row of cookies by the time Jaime pulled himself together.

Jaime shook his head and stood up. The impulse did read your valentine Jaime Reyes. Jamie groaned and made his way to the kitchen.

“Problem her-man-o?” Bart asked butchering the Spanish as he elbowed Jaime with his arm holding the pink frosted knife.

Jaime looked at the cookies they were all almost frosted, “Jeeze ese save something for me…”

Bart looked down and realized that the cookies were all almost done. He frowned feeling bad that he let his speed take over again. He watched as Jaime pulled out the sprinkles and lightly dusted the different Valentine colors over the cookies.

“I’m sorry Jaime,” Bart said as he set down the frosting and sped to his friend’s side and placed an arm around his shoulder.

“It’s okay ese,” Jamie sighed smiling at the younger boy.

Bart grinned and went back to frosting the rest of the cookies. When he was done he raced back to the table in the dinning area and grabbed his special valentine. He grinned and put it in his back pocket. Then sped back to Jaime’s side.

“What did you just do?” Jaime asked not looking at him but at the cookies in front of him.

Bart just grinned at the older boy and replied with a musical, “nooooothing.” Jamie just rolled his eyes before looking at the younger boy. A small streak of pink frosting sat on Bart’s right cheek.

“Uhh ese…” Jaime started uneasily pointing at Bart’s face. Bart looked at him confused hoping an alien wasn’t coming out of his eyes or something. “You just got a little something right there.” Jaime pointed to Bart’s cheek and let his finger rest just below the frosting. Bart stuck out his tongue and tried to reach over and lick the frosting away but ended up licking Jaime’s finger instead. Jamie instantly pulled his finger away both boys turning the same shade as the frosting on the cookies.  

Bart smiled as he reached in front of Jaime and grabbed a paper towel to wipe the frosting away. But just before he got his hand back from the paper towels Jaime grabbed his wrist. “Here I’ll get it, ese,” Jaime said smiling at him.

Bart watched as Jaime walked over to the sink with the paper towel and wet it lightly under the water. He returned and wiped the pink streak off the boys face. Bart smiled before thanking him. Jaime just smiled at the boy and went back to the cookies.

Bart stood uneasy in the kitchen lightly rocking from the back to the front of his heels unsure what to do. He really wanted a cookie that was for sure; he could tell he was starting to run on his “fumes”. It wasn’t anything bad yet but he was starting to get hungry again.

Out of the corner of his eye Jaime watched as Bart continued to eye the cookies. He smirked as he capped off the sprinkles and lifted up two of the cookies closest to him.

“Open up,” Jaime teased as he walked over one of the cookies held out to Bart.

Bart quickly looked over to the older boy before realizing what he was talking about, “Oh! Thanks!” He happily chimed as he reached for the cookie. He watched as a slight disappointment fell over Jaime’s face as he grabbed the cookie and practically jammed the whole thing in his mouth. “What?”

Jamie just shook his head and bit into his own cookie, “That’s disgusting,” Jaime mumbled as he slowly chewed the sweet heart.

Bart just laughed and sped over to Jaime’s side leaning lightly into him, “Am I just too fast for ya?”

Jaime chuckled softly before taking another bite of his cookie. Then he looked down into the younger boys eyes, “Who did you make valentines for?”

“Oh just a few people… “Bart replied leaning back into the island in the kitchen.

“Really I would never have known! But who in particular?”

“Just the people who matter to me and the people that I know pretty well.”

Jamie took the last bite of his cookie and nodded at the younger boy. Bart laughed at him and then closed the space between the two and came right up to Jaime’s chest. “Of course you got one her-man-o!” Bart winked and stood up on his tiptoes and lightly kissed Jaime on the lips.

Jaime stood shocked. He felt something slip into his hand and in an instant Bart was gone out the door with his Valentines., and the one Jaime had made for him. Jaime smiled weakly before lifting up his hand to see a small blue heart now in his possesion. Carefully he unfolded it and read it:


I don’t know what you write in here...

Maybe it’s a poem?

I don’t know any good ones,

That have all the words I want to say to you

It’s hard to find any easier way,

Than to just say

Jamie I love you

So just another little story that I felt like writing. Since I have no time to take pictures atm I decided to write about my OTP. Yay... THis one is a lot happier than the last one that I submitted. More of a valentines day fluffy one. Enjoy.

Please do not comment or read if you are not a fan of Bluepulse or boy x boy. I really do not want to hear about those things in the comments.

Read this and more on my FanFiction [link]

All characters to respected owners and such
I do not own Jaime/Blue Beetle or Bart/Impulse
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Jonathan Crane woke up at precisely 6:00 A.M., the same time he does every weekday morning when he has work to do at his lab across town. Even this early in the morning, the shouts of his rebellious neighbors and the constant TV buzzing above his apartment room were still as loud as ever.

Something crashed upstairs and the man who sat around and got drunk all day yelled at his wife. The whole city could have heard their argument. Jonathan rolled his eyes as he came out of his morning shower and put on his clothes, making sure his vest and tie were neatly fastened and looking sharp. He wiped his glasses clean and ran a comb through his midnight black hair quickly so it would be only slightly wavy, not tangled, when it dried.

He fed his black cat and left his apartment room with a few loving strokes to the feline and another check on his appearance through the mirror on the wall. He walked down to the parking lot of his apartment complex with his hands in his jacket pockets, accepting the daily greetings of the city. Cars in the distance, people murmuring to each other on the street, a few homeless people pushing dingy old shopping carts on the sidewalk. Not the best part of town, but it sure could be a lot worse.

He slipped in his old grey car and drove the long twisting route to his lab, hidden in an even junkier part of town. The trip took an hour to complete, and he always observed his surroundings for any suspicious signs of cops on his trail. You never know. Maybe Batman was secretly an officer himself. Maybe he was an expert detective of the GPD. Maybe he stalked his city's biggest criminals during the day as well as the night. Jonathan was always careful, and hence, he never got caught. Well, almost never.

Crane slipped into his lab just as the sun rose over the smoggy city. It was a nice cloudless day, and Jonathan wanted to spend it inside his lab, testing out his new concoctions and experiments. He worked for a few hours at the lab, happily concentrating. He checked his calendar on one of his many frequently used desks, jotting down dates and formula I.D.'s as his eyes flickered back and forth.

November 16th. That was the date today. He ignored the number. Crane hadn't celebrated his birthday in years, and it really didn't matter anymore. He stopped having parties when he stopped having friends, and that dated all the way back to junior high school. Children celebrate birthdays, he had grown up.

Suddenly the back double doors swung open and bashed against the wall with a bang. Jonathan jumped, scared shit as the one man he did NOT want to see on his birthday strolled right into his lab, purple coat billowing behind his stride. "Jonny, Jonny, Jonneh!!!" Joker bellowed enthusiastically, delivering a poor excuse for a greeting.
Jonathan cringed, standing as still as a stature like a fawn hiding from its hunter. Joker pointed at him and grinned with a smirk, still approaching with a little hop in his step. "I hearrrrrd…. that someonnnne… has a BIRTHday today…"

If Jonathan had a gun, he would have shot himself. This crazy bastard knew his birth date!!! Much to Jonathan's relief, Joker stopped walking toward him and spread his arms with a turn of his head, basking in his triumphant victory and seeming to be asking for a hug. Jonathan yelled at him, getting over his shock and astonishment. "You get outta my laboratory!" He took a big step towards the intruding clown and shoved him away as hard as he could. "Or I'll experiment on your dead body!" How did Joker even know where his lab was!? Why did he keep coming here every few weeks and interrupt his work!?

Joker laughed at the scientist's little rage. Jonathan gritted his teeth and planned his next attack. Joker stopped laughing and looked genuinely sorry. "Aw, I just wanted to give you a present, come on Jonny!"

Great, now the clown was having puppy eyes. Jonathan stared him down. "I'd rather die than receive a gift from you. OUT!" He threw his scolding finger at the door showing him the exit. Joker started to pull something out of his pocket. "It's not even a 'gift', reeeeeally, it's just a—"

"Gun? Knife? Grenade? I'm not stupid!" Jonathan stepped back and grabbed a needle off his desk to defend himself with, certain that the madman would whip out some sort of weapon.

Joker rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. "I love my reputation."  Jonathan tensed up, ready to fight or duck or dodge or something as Joker simply flipped out a harmless piece of paper. "It's just a note, Jonny! Jeez, paranoid or something?!"

Jonathan just eyed the paper suspiciously. Joker held it out to him and Jonathan leaned away, looking at Joker's painted face to detect any sign of danger. "You remind me of a henchman I used to have. Schizophrenic. Shiffy, I think his name was… or schiffy, or shifty? I don't remember. Some Arkham patient." Joker looked around the lab, still holding out the paper to Crane. "You gonna take the paper or am I gonna stand here all day?" He sneered, finally getting impatient.

"It came from you, who the hell knows what it could be." Jonathan stayed still, his hand still resting on the needle on his desk, just in case.

"It's not a damn bomb, good grief!" Joker unfolded the paper himself and flicked it carelessly in Jonathan's general direction. "I've got places to go, people to interrogate yadda yadda yadda. I'm going to leave the almighty 'Master of Fear' to analyze his stupid paranoia of a silly little paper."

Jonathan took his eyes off the paper on his grey laboratory floor and watched Joker walk out with a dramatic salute. After a few minutes, Jonathan sighed and decided the paper was truly just a paper. He was surprised to see nice handwriting in a dark red pen, looking so flawless, it was hard to tell if it was printed from a computer or not.

Jonathan smiled slightly to himself. Harley's handwriting. He would recognize it anywhere.

Dear Mr. Fear
First of all, happy birthday! How old are you now? 50? I'm just kidding, we all know you're 150. I haven't seen you in a while and I thought it would be nice of me to take you out to lunch today. How about the sandwich joint on 33rd and Arcellion Street? 2:00? Alright! See ya there!
Giggles from The Diamond Queen
P.S. This is NOT a date, no matter how much Joker wants it to be!

Jonathan couldn't stop a humorous smile from bubbling up. He folded the paper back up and grabbed his jacket from his chair.

"Who is that old man!?" Harley grinned as Jonathan approached her in the alleyway next to the sandwich deli. Jonathan ignored her joke and they exchanged a small friendly hug. They were both dressed as normal people, and Harley wore as little red as possible, much to her obvious disappointment. Her blonde hair was down, swishing along her shoulders with every move of her head and dyed with some streaks of brown that Jonathan assumed were able to wash out easily with water.

"How are you?" He asked, leaning against the building calmly. "Super duper!" She grinned with a small energetic fist pump in the air. Jonathan liked the pleasantly good mood she was in. She was always so positive and happy.

"Should we go in?" Crane offered, smiling into her sparkling blue eyes. She checked her watch and glanced around him to the street where a few cars passed and shoppers talked amongst their groups. This was a classier part of town, empty of homeless people or punks ready to pull a gun on you for no reason. "Well, actually I need to give J something first. He's gonna go play around while we eat." Harley stated plainly. "In fact he's laaaate!" She sang softly, fidgeting in the cold air. It was the time of year where fall transfers into winter.

Jonathan helped her look around, hoping to himself that Joker wouldn't be here long. How was he going to show up outside in public? Was he going to be disguised, or in his famous purple attire? Turned out, he showed up only partially disguised, with a big brown coat instead of his purple one and a wide brimmed hat that hid his half painted face when he tilted his head a certain way.

Harley hugged him as he came up from another alley behind them, keeping out of the public eye as much as he could. He ignored her and adjusted his hat as she snuggled up to him for warmth and pulled a gun out from her purse, which was nothing but a temporary prop for today. Joker made sure the gun was fully loaded, then slipped it in his inside pocket. "You kids have fun. I know I will." He smiled down at Harley, seeming as if he acknowledged her only after she gave him what he came for.

Jonathan scratched the back of his neck, looking away as Harley stole her chance to delve into a passionate kiss. The awkward moment lasted a good 10 seconds, and the time went by painfully slow. Finally Joker made Harley stop, smiling down smugly at his little worshipper. Jonathan's attention turned back to the couple as Joker gave Harley a hard pat on the cheek. It was really more of a little slap.

Harley smiled as he left, walking back down the way he had come, still keeping out of the public eye. Jonathan led her in the deli, discreetly looking at her face to see if her 'boyfriend' had left a red mark. She smiled up at him innocently, without even a hint of a red mark, as they got a table together and ordered a couple of sandwiches.

As the waiter left their table, Jonathan folded his napkin in his lap, looking up at Harley across from him. "Really? How are you?"

"Really, I'm super duper." She grinned. Jonathan decided to let the subject go. She was apparently fine. They talked and ate for a good half hour, laughing and smiling constantly, like two old friends. She listened to his ideas and scientific studies while he let her talk about her frequent and intense encounters with the Batman himself. She didn't talk about Joker a lot, since they were in a public restaurant, and Jonathan was glad.

Harley paid for the check, but they still stayed at their table and talked after they paid. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you a real present" She smiled with a good-natured wink at him. "I owe you one."

"There's really no need, its fine." He protested. This little get-together was great enough.

"It's your birthday! Of course there's a need! Just a little favor or something!, I owe ya!" She insisted happily.

"….A time machine." He said after thinking. "I don't suppose you can get that, though." He put his napkin on the table from his lap, thinking deeply.

"What would you use it for? Oh wait let me guess!" She grinned still in good spirits. "League of Shadows! When Batman first appeared. You want to change one thing about that moment, don't you? So your plan could work?" She whispered to him enthusiastically.

"No…I wish I could change something far…far before that." He thought out loud quietly, staring down at the wood table in front of him.

"High school?" Harley was starting to calm down and focus on the faded regret in his voice. "Yes," Jonathan nodded. "High school."

Harley was quiet for a while. "I'm sorry." Jonathan looked at her and let her speak. "But… Jonathan, I… I wasn't right for you. Hell, I was dating that football guy, shit what was his name? Ha! I don't even remember his name!" She sighed after a laugh. "We were total opposites… you know that."

"Harley… I was the one who rejected you."

Harley cocked her head, trying so hard to remember. Everything that didn't include Joker seemed like someone else's life now.

Jonathan looked in her crystal blue eyes. "I was the one who told you to stop flirting with me. I was the one who pushed you away." She remembered that night at prom. She had a crush on him for a few weeks and eventually went up to him and obviously acted flirty towards him. He told her to stop acting like a child, and he walked away. "I remember…" She said sadly.

"I regret that night. Right now, I regret it." He was resting his head on his fist. "If we ended up together… things would be…better for you."

Harley hardened her gaze. "Jonathan, things are the best they have ever been for me right now."

Jonathan raised his voice in a harsh whisper, covering his mouth slightly so others wouldn't hear.  "Like that bruise on your stomach? Like the cut on your back? Harley, you think I don't notice those?" He commented only on the wounds he had caught a glimpse of in the past. He was certain she was hiding much more under her clothes, and hiding much pain under her joyful spirit.

"I am happy. I am in love, my life has a purpose. Do not question that." She said sternly, tired of everyone (and she meant everyone) shaking their head at her relationship.

"You could have been happy without any scars." Jonathan tried to convince her.

"Jonathan!" She raised her voice, but luckily no one stared. She waited before continuing. "He's not JUST my boyfriend." She stood up, putting her black purse over her shoulder. "He's also my best friend. He was there for me when you never were."

Jonathan kept her gaze, still thinking back to their high school years together.

"He doesn't roll his eyes at me like you do. He's not disappointed in me like you are!" She walked out briskly, gone in less than a second, and Jonathan was stunned into silence and he slowly realized, everything she just said… was entirely true.

College, he remembered those college years with Harley. She tried to be his friend, maybe not his girlfriend, but his friend. He kept pushing her away. Jonathan held his face in his hands now. He was so focused on his studies and grades back in college, he never hung out with her once. Not once, in four years. She never stopped trying to be his friend, not even after college, when they ended up working at Arkham together.

She was just looking for a friend. He took a sharp intake of breath as the painful truth crept in his mind. She was looking for someone to cling onto. He could have been that person, but it ended up being Joker. Why him? Why him, of all people!?!

He knew why. Because Jonathan had forced her away. He had pushed his chances away, all of them. He was selfish and blind and stupid.

Jonathan grabbed his jacket and went back to his car in its parking spot on the side of the road a few blocks away.

Later that night, Jonathan laid in his bed and tried to think of what to do to make things right. He turned on his side and was about to go to sleep when someone knocked quietly on his door.

He ignored the knocking until a voice spoke up. "Jonny?...It's me…"

"…Harley!?" Crane shot out of bed and opened the door, expecting to see her bleeding from a new gaping cut somewhere on her body or strikingly bruised beyond belief. But there was no blood, and there were no bruises. She half smiled up at him, holding her arm in the chilly outdoor hallway. "Can we talk… for a while?" She asked, obviously cold.
"Of course." He brought her in and locked the door behind her. "What happened?" He gave her his jacket to keep warm.

"Nothing, I just… wanted to talk." She sat on his bed, wrapped in his black jacket. "I didn't want to end your birthday with a fight. I'm sorry."

"It's my fault; I'm the one who is sorry." He said, sitting with her and putting his arm around her. There had to be something wrong; she had to be hurting somewhere. He desperately wanted to know what happened.

She kept the subject focused on him, and she insisted on getting him some kind of present for his birthday. They talked about high school and college, and they said apologies that were wrongly forgotten and necessary to unload form their list of regrets.

An hour passed and they lied on their backs under the warm covers of Jonathan's bed in the cold drafty room, staring at the ceiling and laughing about old times. "Now will you tell me why you are really here?" Jonathan looked at her after they finished chuckling about an old inside joke.

"…..He didn't hurt me… He just told me to leave." Harley assured him, smiling and cheered up by their talk.

Jonathan sighed. "Why?"

Harley inspected her painted yet chipped fingernails. "….He was mad… and he told me he didn't want to hurt me. So I left." She clarified and shook her head over at her old friend. "He's not abusive, Jonathan, you shouldn't stereotype him like that."

Jonathan had no comment. She could just be saying that because she loved him and was in denial. Harley didn't give up on her quest to justify her boyfriend. "Gentleness is something he's never… had to give to someone. You can't give someone a car if you don't know anything about buying or driving a car, you know?"

Jonathan nodded slightly, thinking about the metaphor Harley gave him. It made sense. "Being gentle isn't hard."

"That's like saying driving a car isn't hard. It's only 'easy' to you because you've had practice and experience." Harley stared at the ceiling again. "But… if you never even… saw a car before… it's a very foreign thing to you."

A few minutes of silence passed before Jonathan spoke up again. "What was he mad about?"

Harley smiled. "He didn't have as much fun as he wanted to today. Gordon apparently was right on his heels all day after he left us at the deli, and he wasn't able to shake the cops off for a long time. Leading cops on a wild goose chase is only fun if you're in the mood." She giggled, pulling the covers up to her chin. "He was so excited to use that new gun today! Poor guy."

Jonathan laughed as well, his spirits lifted by her cute girlish little giggles. "So in the morning…. you probably have to find some new henchmen, right?" He grinned. He was pretty sure Joker used that gun tonight, and he was happy it wasn't on Harley.

Harley laughed long and hard, so hard that she curled on her side, burrowing her face into his chest, muffling her laughter with his shirt.  "Yes, yes I do!"
Happy Birthday Jonathan Crane :D Yeah I guess this is a HarleyxScarecrow themed story. I actually like this pairing a lot. :D I might write some more of this theme sometime. ;)
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All was quiet, with the exception of Feliciano's whimpers and Ludwig's grunts of pain as Kiku attempted to clean his wound. The campfire had died down to a bright orange glow, but none seemed to notice as the sun was rising into the sky. It had been a few hours since the Axis had encountered with the Allies and kidnapped you. The bullet that had been shot from Ivan's rifle was still deep into Ludwig's arm, and there was no way to get it out safely without causing an infection since there was too much swelling.

"I'm going to have to wait until the swelling goes down before I attempt to get the bullet out, Ludwig," Kiku said, wiping his bloody hands on his military jacket that was practically ruined from the fight earlier. Ludwig nodded.

"Thank you thought for cleaning the wound, Kiku. I can't save (Name) with an infected arm," said Ludwig as Kiku began to wrap the wound in gauze. The Japanese man gave Ludwig a disbelieving look.

"How can you go after (Name) when we don't know where she is?" he said to the German. Ludwig was quiet for a long time. Kiku did have a point. There were five Allies and their headquarters could be in any five countries. "And besides, you're in no condition to go looking for her. Wait until the bullet comes out before we discuss a plan," Kiku added. Ludwig nodded slowly and looked over at Feliciano, who had his white flag clutched in one hand and a piece of paper in the other.

"Feliciano! What do you have?" yelled Ludwig toward the terrified Italian. Feliciano squeaked in fear. Just like the others, he was still recovering from earlier, making him incredibly jumpy.

"I found it, I swear! It was-a lying by the-a campfire!" Feli said, handing the note to Ludwig, his hand shaking so bad it took a few attempts before Ludwig could grab the paper. He looked at the scrawny handwriting, which was obviously by the American, and read it. Ludwig gaped his mouth in disbelief and read the note over and over again, making sure he was reading it right.

"What? What does it say?" said Kiku, obviously noticing the shock on his face. Crumpling up the note, he turned to Japan.

"It's from the Allies. It said that (Name) is alright and in no harm, but it won't last for long. It says if we surrender the war to them, they'll release her in the same condition they kidnapped her in. But, if we refuse, they'll take over her country and force her to join them," Anger built up quickly in the tempered Ludwig's body with each word he spoke. Kiku and Feliciano both blinked in shock.

"Why-a would those bastardos do-a such a thing to (Name)!?" said Feliciano, also angered. It was rare for Feli to show his anger, and when he did it was never pretty. Being a hotheaded Italian, he had a very colorful language. But, fortunately, it was always spoken in his native tongue. Ludwig threw the crumpled up paper somewhere far on the beach and sighed angrily.

"Verdammt..," he muttered, running his fingers through his slick blonde hair. Kiku sat quietly in thought. Feliciano kept shouting out random curse words and insults to the Allies in Italian. I hope (Name) is alright. She's strong, but not strong enough to take on the Allies by herself. And with that thought in Ludwig's mind, he turned to Kiku and said:

"Kiku, get this damn bullet out of me."
Holy crap, this is so very short~ XDDD I'm so sorry, but it was intended on being short~ XDDD SEE?! GERMANY ISN'T DEAD~!!! :la: He's just in a bad mood~ XD;; Hell, I owuld be too if I weres shot~ :iconnotimpressedplz:

*ahem* So, please enjoy this chapter~!

Kiku = Japan
Ludwig = Germany
Feliciano = N. Italy

Hetalia Hidekaz Himaruya
You The Allies~

Chapter 1 - [link]
Chapter 3 - [link]
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Severus Snape stared down at the parchment in his hand.  As he reread it, he smiled briefly, and then inspiration struck. 

Work began quickly after that.  His lab was momentarily left in order to find all of the proper ingredients so that his new project would work.  And oh, what a project it would be! He would show those prankster Weasley brothers just how clever Severus Snape was after all.

Granted, he could not claim all of the inspiration for this idea.  No, it was due in part to an old school friend of his, Caroline.  She had recently gotten married, and had finally sent a note of thanks, thanking him multiple times for making it to her wedding.  In that letter of thanks, she also mentioned a new story that she had recently come upon, called Labyrinth.  The tale was simple enough, how a foolish girl made a wish and went through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered in order to take back her baby brother from a goblin king.  He hadn’t cared all that much about the story other than something at the end, a bog. 

But this was no ordinary bog.  No, this was a Bog of Eternal Stench.  And that gave him the idea he needed to finally put those Weasley brothers in their place.  Why did they bother him so much? Hadn’t it been enough that he had faked his own death and come back to help win the war? No, he guessed not.  Perhaps because he was now with Hermione?

Whatever the reason was, he wanted to out-prank the Weasley twins, if that was even possible.  After years of dealing with their “gifts” that appeared at his door or in his lab, he was going to have his revenge. 

He first needed a way to make the twins accept the trick, and so he called it a new toy.  He quickly wrote, using a false name to gain their trust.  Once they showed their eagerness for something new that would be “sure to delight people of all ages”, he told them that he would send it to them. 

He had had so many ideas running around in his head about what he should do, but none of them had seemed good enough.  He needed something that would surprise them and stop them from doing anything.  That was where the Bog of Eternal Stench came in handy. 

While he did not know of a potion that could imbue a smell permanently, he knew of several that could last for months on end.  That would have to do.  Getting the ingredients was the hardest part.  He enlisted Hermione to help, since she was Muggle-born  and knew what those things were that Caroline had mentioned.  Soon he had all the old shoes, sweaty clothes, and burnt popcorn he could ask for.  Combining those with the other things he needed, he extracted what he required, and the “toy” took shape.  Really, it was more of a dirty bomb, but they didn’t need to know that.

 It took several tries of taking all of the different smells and combining them into one noxious place, but he managed.  With each scent imbued in the smoke he manipulated, each had their turn to be added to fragrant mixture until they were placed into the small, glowing mortar on the floor so that it could be added to the liquid blob inside the mortar.  The lab smelled awful for those few hours as he meticulously combined everything into a blackish-green fluid, similar to the feel and movement as jello, yet more liquid, like silly putty.      

In the end, it was a small, non-threatening little ball, smaller than his fist.  Oh, but the power it packed! He quickly put the finishing touches on it, so that it would explode the moment it was released from its package by the twins, as well as adding a little flair of magic so that they could see his initials as it was released.  They would know who they were dealing with. 

The ball would explode, sending bits of it onto every possible surface, releasing the ghastly smell that combined all of the worst-smelling things imaginable, just like the bog.  And it would last for a long time to come.  If he was lucky, they would open it inside the main part of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.  Once it was packaged up, he wrote a note back to Caroline, thanking her for the inspiration he needed.  He also sent her a birthday present, since he knew it was coming soon.  His regular owl took that to Caroline, while he prepared another owl to deliver the dirty bomb. 

Once that owl was sent, he cleaned up his lab, airing it so that he would not be smelling the sweat for weeks to come.  He would create another potion to purify the air if it became necessary.  After that, he cleaned up himself, and went off to find Hermione.  She was working hard at the Ministry of Magic, but she should have been home by now. 

It was summer right now, and it seemed like a perfect opportunity to spend some time outdoors with her.  He had read in a Muggle magazine in Hermione’s home that girls liked going on picnics outdoors, so he thought that he would surprise her this time with one.  

Perhaps, if he was really feeling lucky, he would also show her what he had bought for her at the jewelry store.  He had hinted to Caroline that soon she may be receiving an invitation from him of a similar nature.  It just depended on the moment. 

Certainly, he cared a lot about Hermione.  There could be no denying that.  She had caught his attention long ago, and had retained it since.  She had grown into a beautiful woman, confident and mature.  Someone he would gladly marry after slowly learning to love again.

In the weeks that followed that happy picnic, Snape had further cause to be glad.  He later heard from Potter that there had been a terrible accident in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, and it had been forced to shut down for a whole month.  Snape did his own version of a happy dance before Hermione or Potter noticed. 

But, what Snape did not find out about was what happened after the Weasley brothers opened their shop again.  Sure, they had been closed, but they had not been idle by any means.  When they opened again, it was with the promise of new tricks and gimmicks, and they delivered well.  Their best-selling product that made up for all of the lost profit of the month, in one day? Why, none other than Aromus Attackus.  

Author’s Disclaimer: No, I don’t own Harry Potter, or anything related to it.  All rights go to their respective owners.  This story is part of an art trade with ScarletQuill , and I wanted to create something related to Harry Potter since that is how I found her originally.  We both love stories involving Severus Snape and Hermoine, so I wanted to write a little something in that honor.  This story is an AU of Harry Potter, taking place after the war where both Snape and Fred survive.  

Who won: Snape or the Weasleys? I’ll let you decide.  Yes, this is probably the definition of silliness, but I can’t help it.  It just needed to happen! ScarletQuill is fond of Harry Potter stories involving Snape and the Weasleys’ pranks, or him with Hermoine, so I thought I would combine them both.  A small tribute is paid to one of her stories as he leaves his initials so that the twins know it was him.   Also, it is ScarletQuill’s birthday, so I wanted to get this out in time for it.  Happy Birthday, Caroline! :D  :cake:

This story gave me serious writer’s block as I tried to figure out which combination I wanted to write about, until I decided to say screw it and include everything! No shame.  I hope you enjoyed the silliness! Thanks for reading and reviewing!    

Also, if you like the cover image, here is the original:

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