Disclaimer – Teen Titans and its characters do not belong to me. I do not make any money off this fic, nor do I intend to, and I give full credit to their actual creators. I'd appreciate not being sued.
A/N – I offered to do some requests on Livejournal, and Shadow Diva asked for something Speedy/Bumblebee. I'm not sure if this really qualifies, but it was the best I could do in fewer than 700 words.
Denial
© Scribbler, May 2005.
"He's just so … urgh." For once, words failed Bumblebee. Instead, she formed her hands into claws and mimed throttling someone. Well, either that or playing a small banjo with a pickle up her nose. "Do you know what he did last week?"
Raven looked like she neither knew nor cared. She'd been left behind to meditate while the others were being taken on the grand tour of ETT – East Titans' Tower – but had spent about two minutes on that before Bumblebee, hungry for some female company, found her on the couch. Since the couch was technically hers, and Cyborg had been very stern about playing nice, Raven had forced herself to sit and listen while the other girl waxed lyrical on the disadvantages of being sharing quarters with four boys. Her patience, however, was wearing thin.
"He actually left his dirty, stinky socks hanging off my doorknob. And then he didn't get it when I was mad! It's bad enough they expect me to, like, be some master chef or something," Bumblebee griped, throwing her hands about like a vendor tossing bags of peanuts at a baseball game. "But doing their laundry? I mean, of course, I'm the obvious choice. I got a uterus, don't I?"
"I think - " Raven started, but was beginning to grasp that Bumblebee was more interested in venting than getting feedback.
"Aqualad's not so bad, and Mas y Menos are learning. At least they all try, y'know? But Speedy … ooh, so help me but I could smother that guy. He just refuses to learn. And he never listens when we're in combat. I'm leader. He's supposed to respect me, but all I get is 'Blah, blah, blah'." Her hands impersonated little mouths, while her eyes rolled. "Would it kill him to just say 'Sure, Bumblebee,' or 'That's a good idea, Bumblebee,' or 'Can I help you with that, Bumblebee?' Just once? Or put away his mirror at debriefings. Or wash up his own dishes. Or quit using the female bathroom and leaving the damn seat up! I know I'm not supposed to say it, since we're on the same team and all, but I really think I hate him, Ray-girl. He's such a self-centred, scruffy, know-it-all, conceited, chauvinistic jerk!"
"You know," Raven cut in, speaking quickly so she could get her point across, "there's a simple explanation for why you feel so strongly about Speedy in particular."
"Yeah. He's a dickwad and I hate him."
"No. another explanation."
"Which is?" Bumblebee raised a sceptical eyebrow.
Raven shrugged. "It's a well known psychological fact that there is a line so thin as to be almost negligible between the extreme emotions of love and hate. And the thing about extreme emotions is that they sometimes lead to denial, and a need to justify that denial through a hypercritical attitude."
For a second Bumblebee looked shocked. Her mouth hung open a little. Raven reached out with one hand to click it shut. It made a satisfying noise.
Then Bumblebee shook her head and reared back, wings flickering. "That's sick, you know that?"
"Denial."
"I am not!"
"A person in denial would deny it."
"I totally am not in denial!"
"You can't trust the word of a person in denial."
"You take that back!"
"And now we move on to the hyperactive emotional state. Which is indicative of - "
"I absotively posolutely ain't keen on Speedy!"
"-Denial."
Bumblebee grunted something not allowed on primetime and stalked off.
Raven did not smirk triumphantly. That would have been petty. Instead, she just assumed a lotus position and floated into her meditation regime.
FINIS.