I've had this up for a while on Tumblr, and I'm finally posting it here. This is one of the last of my Tumblr fics. I should have this account updated soon...

Ownership disclaimed. I don't own YJ.


At the final brrrring of the bell, little over three hundred girls fled from the classrooms of St. Bernadette's Catholic Preparatory School in New York. Zatanna led the pack of rabid schoolgirls through the front doors, letting out a screech of victory. It was the last day of school before summer break and, for the young magician, a day of liberation. She was about to hand herself over to the life of vigilantism; it was an existence sorely missed. The days spent trapped in the classrooms only sharpened her longing forthe nights spent running amok, the soaring over cities in the Bioship, the tight bonds of friendship with her team. She was going to meet with Artemis before they went to Mount Justice later that night. For now though, it was twelve in the afternoon, and she had hours to chill out with her friends. She locked arms with Lydia and Hannah, laughing at an unfunny joke. Some days needed that grain of normalcy that comes from hanging out with friends.

She heard the faint sound of "Highway to Hell" in the distance. Her friends, Brooklynites at heart, weren't particularly bothered. For private Catholic school girls, some were numbed to the gritty world of urban New York, including the roaring music careening past their campus. As it neared, she watched as the freshman rushed forward to the gate. She rolled her eyes; silly little girls were still astounded at the cacophony of downtown.

The revving of a motorcycle neared, the sound of AC/DC blaring closer. Zatanna glanced around, wondering which airhead classmate of hers was now going out with a hothead rebel whose anarchic attitude was as flimsy as their laughably wispy beards. A leather-clad figure stopped in front of the school, helmet obscuring what she expected would be a pimply young adult. She finally noticed the bike. It was forest green, highlighted with black stripes on the side; the color scheme was familiar, and she felt the blood rush from her face. Gloved hands reached up, slowly pulling off the helmet. Part of her knew who it was without a doubt, yet another part sorely hoped otherwise.

The first thing anyone noticed was a stream of blonde hair, long and lustrous in the afternoon sun. Its owner flipped her hair, revealing familiar Asiatic eyes, dark skin, and a wicked smile. It was Artemis Crock, team archer and the closest a hero could be to a juvenile delinquent. She sauntered towards the entrance, her hips swaying with each step. As she approached the gate, blocked by gawking schoolgirls, she unzipped the leather jacket—which Zatanna now remembered from their Halloween escapade less than a year ago—revealing a tight-fitting white tank top that hugged her curves perfectly. Zatanna mentally berated her, wondering what possibly inspired the girl to show up to an all-girls private school dressed like a ne'er-do-well. She tried—and failed—to make herself scarce. Artemis still walked ever closer to her group, ignoring the wide eyes that followed her, boots dully clopping against the paved entrance

"Why's she headin' to'rds us?" Lydia whispered to Zatanna. "We di'n't do nut'in." Hannah was about to make a noise of agreement, but she quickly shut her mouth with an eep as the blonde biker finally closed the distance, leaving a mere yard between her and them, too small a distance for the twittering school girls.

"Hey, Zee," she said, looking straight into the magician's blue eyes, cocking out her hip slightly. Her voice was low and bored, with a slight rasp to it; intimidating and yet attractive to everyone's ears. The girls around gasped in surprise; their beloved Zatanna knew this— this— delinquent? "I'm kidnapping you now. Get on the bike, babe." Her mischievous smile widened

Zatanna felt her reputation evaporate. Among the Team, kidnapping was a joke, a throwback to her first mission with them. To this crowd though, kidnapping was not a reference to the past; and the 'babe' was also a troublesome thing to explain. She heard a dull wave rush through the blazer-wearing schoolgirls as a new rumor overtook the masses. A glance out of the corner of her eye caught the glint of a few iPhones. Soon, everyone would know. Perfect, Zatanna thought bitterly. "Fine," she replied coolly, a tone of surrender at the edge of her voice.

"Get moving then, sugar." Zatanna wanted nothing more than to open up the earth and disappear into the abyss. Was Artemis trying to destroy the good-girl image she maintained, or was this natural skill at work? She stood herself up, feeling like weights were dragging her steps. Her feet seemed to be awfully loud as she walked slowly to Artemis's bike. Just over fifty pairs of eyes followed her, their voices reaching her ears in muffled whispers. She didn't need to know what they were saying specifically; she had a pretty good idea of it already.

Zatanna usually loved Artemis's bike. It was a sleek beauty that rode fast and endured the pummeling of vigilantism. However, she hated it now as she climbed on. She cursed its lack of car-ness. No doors or sides to hide her embarrassed form, and she was forced to scoot close against Artemis, hugging her tightly. She could feel the blonde girl smirk as she wrapped her arms around the hot leather. She vaguely felt Artemis slip a helmet over her head. At least it would hide the raging blush.

They roared down the street, going way beyond the speed limit. Her skirt edges fluttered wildly from the wind, and she thanked her lucky stars for the shorts underneath. She knocked her helmet against Artemis's own green helmet. The archer didn't turn to face her, but Zatanna could feel her body shift in her arms. Artemis wasn't stupid enough to turn, not while they were still driving.

They pulled up to a corner cafe. It wasn't particularly fancy, but it wasn't a shady dive. Few people were around. The two dismounted, Zatanna taking some time to smooth down her skirt and straighten her blazer; school or not, she wasn't going to look like a slob in that uniform. Artemis waited by the door, hip cocked slightly as she leaned against the doorframe. She held the door for Zatanna, mockingly bowing to her as she entered. Zatanna rolled her eyes, but nobody noticed. The few people were engrossed in their own conversations. The two girls took a seat in one of the empty booths, perusing the menu in silence.

"You're mad at me." It was Artemis who broke the silence, startling Zatanna out of her own stupor.

"What makes you say that?" Zatanna deflected easily. She could already see where the conversation was going.

"Today, at the school. It was like you weren't happy to see me." Artemis frowned slightly, her brow creasing in an infuriatingly endearing way. Nobody this badass should look so adorable; it should be illegal.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because you revved up to an all-girls private school on a motorcycle dressed like some kind of punk!"

"Hey, I wouldn't consider my clothes—"

"That's not the point!" she snapped. "Do you know what it looks like to those other girls? Being picked up by some no-good biker punk who calls me 'babe' and 'sugar'?"

"May I take your order?" The two jumped slightly, startled by the waiter. They smiled sheepishly, clearing their throats as they looked over the menu once more.

"A basket of French fries," Artemis started, "Mozzarella sticks, and one strawberry milkshake—"

"Actually, that will be separate milkshakes," Zatanna cut in. A look of hurt flashed quickly across Artemis's face before evaporating like it was never there. The waiter took no notice, walking away without batting so much as an eyelash.

Once he was out of range, Artemis turned back to Zatanna. "What the hell was that?" she hissed. "You made me look like such an idiot."

Zatanna raised an eyebrow coldly, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm sorry, did I hurt your reputation?" She hoped the blond would catch the hint.

"These are two different situations," Artemis insisted. "I just showed up and picked you up; you deliberately tried to make me look like I don't know my boundaries or like we're having a fight or something!"

"Like you didn't do that earlier? Are you naturally such a crook that you show up at a private school to pick up someone on a motorcycle? Do you even realize what they're gonna say about me? Are you freaking serious!"

"Wow, do you realize how selfish that sounds?" Artemis cocked her head slightly, her brow crunching a little more. "I thought you like seeing me…" She sounded hurt, and Zatanna felt her heart soften despite its anger.

"I didn't say that—"

"Well, that's what I'm hearing." Artemis leaned back on her seat slightly, avoiding Zatanna's eye. "Look, I get where you're coming from, I guess." She shyly met the blue eyes across from her, the warm brown softening like chocolate under the sun. "I just—I just really wanted to see you, and I wasn't thinking…" She trailed off, half sulking, half sorry.

The waiter came to the table, bringing a loaded tray. First off were the fries and cheese sticks, piping hot and mouthwateringly savory to the senses. He laid down two milkshakes, straws sticking out from under a cloud of whipped cream. It all looked heavenly. Artemis licked her lips, thanking the waiter quickly before plucking a mozzarella stick from the bed of lettuce garnish and dipping it into the rich marinara sauce.

Zatanna scooted her milkshake closer to her. She lightly placed her lips on the straw, paused for a moment, and decided against sipping the drink. She pulled the straw out and with a single fluid motion placed it in Artemis's glass. Artemis raised her eyebrow, glancing up at Zatanna. The cheese stick was halfway finished, the gooey deliciousness stretched a good half-foot from her mouth; it was so incredibly childish and adorable.

"I thought you were mad at me," Artemis said tentatively around the hot food.

"I was," Zatanna admitted, "but not really. "Sides, milkshakes taste better when they're shared." She sipped through the straw, swiping some whipped cream from the top.

Artemis smiled, putting down the cheese stick. She sipped the milkshake from her own straw. "Ain't that the truth."


Look at that saccharine cuteness. Doesn't it sicken you?

Review please!