Disclaimer: Me, own the Teen Titans? You must be nuts. I don't own them, and I doubt that I ever will.
Author's Note: Howdy. I've been writing some truly depressing poetry for class lately and I felt like I needed to write something positive. So here's some Spaqualad friendship for you, full of the delicious fluffy topping that you Spaqualad slashers love without the slashiness! (Sorry, I do male bonding only. But I think you'll like this anyway.) Please enjoy, and please review!
Aqualad doesn't set an alarm. He knows if he's late for something, Mas y Menos will be there in a second - less than a second - to set him straight. They shouldn't be able to get into his room, but they've been taking pages out of Gizmo's book and hacking into his password-protected door.
Briefly Aqualad wonders why he thought of Gizmo, of all the supervillains he's barely seen. Gizmo, after all, is not one who causes his city trouble.
His city.
It took him so long to transfer that appelation from the undersea home he had once known. But things change - people change - and he must as well, or else be eroded by the constant battering of the waves on the shore.
So he doesn't set an alarm, because he wants to be ready for anything. To set an alarm would be to anticipate a time to get up, a time to procrastinate against and dislike simply for being that time. He wants a little spontaneity.
And, if he's honest, he thinks it would be what Speedy might do.
He doesn't idolize him. Far from it. Far, far, far...far away from it. But he does respect Speedy's quick thinking, something he rarely can manifest. Life in the water is a slow motion film with every action to come already planned. The body moves slower than the mind, slower than the eye.
But Speedy knows how to swim on land, swim in the air - and he would quite dearly like to know how. But of course he'll never ask him.
So today Aqualad gets up at 7:21 A.M., stretches, shaves, takes a dip in the pool, dries, changes his clothes, and then joins the rest of the team for breakfast. As usual, Bumblebee is awake but non-functional, blearily waving around the newspaper to him and Speedy nurses his cup of coffee.
"Hard night?" Aqualad asks him.
"Unnnngh," comes the reply. The cup tips and the hot liquid soars down Speedy's throat. Aqualad smiles - for a moment, while Speedy's distracted - at the print on the coffee cup: "Coffee is my American Idol."
Sometimes, he wonders about that boy.
The morning progresses with the usual small-talk and insult trading, the flurry of Mas y Menos after their four bowls of cereal (each), and Bumblebee's assignment of daily tasks. Aqualad is on what he calls lifeguard duty today; patrolling anywhere there's water to make sure nothing terrible happens. It's horribly uncreative for Bee, but he knows she knows he enjoys the water and the time away from the rest of the world.
The day begins, the team separates, communicators set to the alarm position in case anything goes wrong, and Aqualad goes about his duties. Several kind vendors and passerby exchange polite hellos or waves which he returns with a curt, respectable nod. Speedy's probably trolling for girls already, he thinks.
Briefly Aqualad wonders why this bothers him, of all the annoying things Speedy does. Maybe it's because Speedy doesn't seem to respect women - he barely can live with Bee without her going into a feminist tirade every five seconds. (Of course, Speedy deserves it nearly every time.)
Yes, that must be it.
Nothing is out of the ordinary today. He climbs up a tree to untangle a kite for a rosy-haloed little boy on the way with bright red hair and freckles and an adorable smile. The kid squeezes him tightly upon the retrieval of his beloved toy and runs off to continue searching for the sky. Aqualad wonders if this little boy, who looks so much like how Speedy must have when he was little, does this often. Does he get to just let go and enjoy things purely for the sake of enjoyment? Can't he just, for once, take off the mask and live life?
He hopes so - but he never sees it.
At lunchtime Aqualad makes for a trendy bistro he often frequents. A familiar shock of red hair sits at one of the outdoor tables, sipping Mountain Dew.
"Was wondering when you'd show up, Fish-Boy," he jibes.
Aqualad takes a seat, noting the glass of water on the table.
"You drink Evian, right? I can never remember," Speedy adds.
Aqualad resists the urge to raise an eyebrow at this odd show of concern and merely nods, reaching for the water. He ignores the straw and embraces his thirst, gulping down nearly half the glass in one go. It's very cold and very, very good.
"Hard day?" Speedy jokes.
Aqualad glares. Speedy laughs and stabs at his salad.
Salad?
"Salad?"
"What's wrong with cobb salad?" Speedy squawks, his voice shooting up half an octave.
"Apparently nothing, since you've about demolished yours," Aqualad mutters, "The usual," he adds to the waiter who's on his way over. He nods and heads back to the kitchen.
"What's the usual?" Speedy asks.
"Is this twenty questions?" Aqualad shoots back.
"Would you like it to be?"
"Not when it's an idiot like you asking the questions."
"Aw, c'mon, now, Fish Stick, there's no need for name-calling."
"Fine. I'm sorry."
Speedy straightens suddenly. Aqualad tenses.
"Whoa. You gave up that easily? You sick or something? Wait. Tell me something only Aqualad would know," Speedy demands, the folds of his mask widening as he leans forward, expectant, alert.
"Last Tuesday I covered your comb in Vaseline and peanut butter and left it outside on a ninety-degree day for six hours," Aqualad deadpans.
Speedy grins, leans back, slouches; then frowns and re-straightens.
"If you're not sick and you're not a shapeshifter, then something's gotta be buggin' you," Speedy concludes rapidly. He leans forward again, resting his chin on his left hand. "So..."
"So...?"
"Spill. C'mon, man."
"I'm not going to 'spill' to you, Speedy."
"Why not?"
Dear Neptune, Aqualad wonders, is he pouting?
"Because A) you're an idiot, as we've already established; B) you wouldn't want to hear what's on my mind anyway and I'll use too many big words and you'll get lost; and C) you couldn't keep a secret to save your life," Aqualad finishes.
"You'd be surprised," Speedy says, his pout gone in an instant, his battle face on. Aqualad stares at Speedy's mask.
The waiter sets down Aqualad's large slice of pumpkin pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top and gets halfway through asking if either superhero wants anything else before Aqualad breaks in with a: "No, thank you." Away he goes.
He thinks Speedy's still staring at him, but of course he can't tell behind the mask.
"Pie?" he offers.
Speedy sits there for a minute, then grins.
"No, I'm good. Seriously, man...pie for lunch?"
"Says the guy who just had a cobb salad."
"There is nothing wrong with cobb salad!"
"Says the guy who thinks fish tacos are God's gift to man."
"Well, they ARE!"
Aqualad just grins around his pie and shakes his head. Speedy sighs and sits back, crossing his arms.
"You're changing the subject."
Aqualad swallows his pie. Speedy's being awfully perceptive today.
"You're being awfully perceptive today."
"I know. Now stop changing the subject and tell me what's up."
"I would if I knew, Speedy."
He's halfway through mustering up the words to deny it after it's out of his mouth, but the pie strangles them back down his throat because it's true.
And, he realizes, that's what's bothering him.
Speedy has this odd expression on his face - somewhere between a grin and frown.
And then, he realizes, that's a smile.
Speedy never smiles. He grins, smirks, frowns, pouts - everything but smiles. It suggests a certain fragility that Aqualad never sees in Speedy. A vulnerability, a weakness, a chink in the archer's armor.
It's...enigmatic, in its simplicity.
Aqualad eats his pie in silence, silence that Speedy acknowledges and keeps. Sometimes he catches Speedy studying him, but when he meets Speedy's eyes - or what he thinks are Speedy's eyes - Speedy doesn't always look away. But - of course - Aqualad does.
It's frightening, stimulating. Aqualad knows something's going to happen, sees it like a small wave slowly building on the ocean into a massive Tempest. It's something big, and it's going to destroy so much.
But like fire - like the fiery auburn of Speedy's hair - it will give life to something better. Nature burns what it sees as ugly. Nature destroys the things that become unnatural.
The pie, water, and soda are all finished, the check paid and the tip underneath the flower vase. Aqualad looks at the ground; Speedy stares into his shoulder.
Their alarms go off.
"Aqualad, ready." "Speedy, ready."
"Got a double. Bank robbery, 24th and Pine. Four perps. No sign of any powers, but we never know. Mas y Menos are tied up with a carjacking on the freeway and they need backup. Can you and Speedy - are you two together?" Bee finally asks.
"Right here, chief," Speedy interjects.
"Good. Handle the robbery for me - I'm enroute to the freeway. The boys and I'll get to you as soon as we can. Bumblebee, out."
They close their communicators and, without a word, set off.
The robbery is just three blocks away. In no time they have arrived at the unfamiliar bank. Speedy gives Aqualad a look and Aqualad knows he's to enter first. Of course - Speedy needs distance to shoot.
That also means Aqualad takes the first hit, but he doesn't mind that. It's part of the job.
Aqualad, after a quick scan for fire hydrants, steps through the remnants of the glass door. Obviously their perps hadn't decided to be subtle.
So. They wanted to be caught. Aqualad was happy to oblige.
Inside, two men with short hair and ordinary street clothes - no masks, gloves, no disguises - hold hostages. They both have their backs to Aqualad and their guns to the hostages, who are lined up single file, sitting, against the left and right walls.
Aqualad jerks his head to the right and steps out of Speedy's shot for the left robber. Without a word of warning - he hates it when Bee does that - he explodes the water cooler in the hallway. The robbers spin, but the left one's already getting electrocuted by a special delivery from Speedy. The gun raises, the shot goes off, the freed water surges and knocks the robber over, Aqualad flinches, the gun goes flying, and then -
He's not dead.
He opens his eyes to see the robber knocked out cold, the water from the cooler having hit him with the correct amount of force, just as Aqualad intended. The bullet meant for his heart lies two inches in front of Aqualad's right foot, frozen solid.
An arrow shaft lies two inches to its left.
Aqualad doesn't have time - he shoots Speedy a quick nod, then heads to the screaming hostages.
"The Titans are here! Oh, thank goodness!" the pregnant girl he'd chosen screams.
"Where are the other two?" Aqualad asks, his voice a paragon of steadiness, never wavering, just as he was trained. If you're calm, so are the civilians.
"The safe! In the back," the woman replies, accepting Aqualad's arms around her middle to help her to her feet. "Past the offices, there," she adds.
Amidst a flurry of thank-yous from the hastily exiting civilians, Aqualad steadily moves to the office entrances behind the tellers' desk. Speedy, he's surprised to notice, is right behind him, not indulging his new fans.
Well, there weren't any pretty girls. That was why.
Again Aqualad takes the lead through the offices and near the door he supposed to be the boss' office. He waited next to the door for a few moments, listening while scanning the room for more water sources.
"I told you, I don't know the combination!"
SMACK.
"Right, mack, and I'm a ballerina. Look, just tell us and you can go. I promise."
"I...I - I -"
Aqualad nods over his right shoulder to Speedy and slides his right hand to toss the door open, flattening himself against the wall so as to not be seen.
"What the..."
Footsteps. Then they stop. A ragged laugh. A new voice.
"Ah. Well-played, Titans. Let's see if your little speedsters can handle this."
He thinks Mas y Menos opened the door, Aqualad has time to think before Speedy grabs him around the waist and throws him to the carpet, shielding him completely with his body.
KABOOM!
Aqualad sees snippets of a bright light flash through Speedy's costume and then, as Speedy rolls off of him and to his feet, a clearing smoke. Then, a figure stepping out of the doorway.
Speedy's not ready with his bow, he knows without looking, and raises his hand. Water soars from a sink and erupts into the figure, jetting him into the wall on the far side of the room.
Both he and Speedy are ready, but the fourth does not come - the robber Aqualad hit is just as incapacitated as the last.
"You didn't think it was going to be that easy, now did you, Titans?"
The fourth voice.
Aqualad squints at the fog edging closer and closer.
And then he understands.
He raises his hands and hopes that the water vapor in the air will answer him. It does - and he condenses the air enough to dissipate the likely poisonous fog.
Aqualad sags with the effort. Speedy flinches, maybe wanting to come to his side, Aqualad thinks, but he does the smart thing and keeps his bow trained on the door.
The ragged laugh again.
"Clever trick. But you're too tired, Aqualad, to stand by yourself. And look at your friends - all unable to help."
Obviously he thinks Mas y Menos took the brunt of the explosion - and Bee the gas - and Speedy the blinding light. And of course the dissipating trick had to come from him - but he was being awfully stupid thinking he had gotten everybody in one go.
"And now that I have you right where I want you, I think I'll be on my way now."
The figure - tall, fat - steps out of the doorway, smirking. He finds Aqualad instantly, raises something in his hand...
...and topples over the next second, felled easily by a stunning arrow to the left shoulder.
Aqualad and Speedy edge forward slowly. A bag of money has fallen to the man's left side, on the right what looks like a taser. Speedy, the weaponsmaster of the team, bends down to investigate.
"It alters the magnetic field around him somehow. I'm guessing he was going to use it to reflect your water back at you, with an electric shock that might have stopped your heart if he had it at its highest setting," Speedy says quietly.
"Was it?" Aqualad asks, his voice still even as ever.
"Yeah. It was," Speedy whispers, getting to his feet.
The rest passes like a blur. Calming down the boss - helping the officers get the perps in custody - speaking with the press - the arrival of Bee and Mas y Menos - the cheering of the bank workers - the ride back home - walking back to his room to clean up before the two-hours-away dinnertime team meeting: all disjoined and disconnected, until Speedy catches him in the hallway with a hand thrown onto his right shoulder.
"Hey," comes with it.
Aqualad turns. The hand falls back.
"You all right?" the inevitable question follows.
"Yes," the terse reply returns. Now Speedy is supposed to walk away.
And - of course! - he doesn't.
"We've all had close calls. But that's not what's bothering you," Speedy accuses, but his tone is simple, inquisitive, concerned.
This...this isn't right!
"Why are you so concerned with what's bothering me, Speedy? Go...comb your hair, or...something. Just leave me alone," Aqualad fires, stepping over to his door's password console.
Speedy grabs for the mid-password-entering hand. Aqualad jerks it out of his grip and finishes entering his password.
"Aqualad!"
He's halfway through halfway entering before he pulls back and turns to face a Speedy with a bit lip and slightly heaving chest. He's worked up, Aqualad can tell, but he doesn't know why.
And doesn't care, wishes he didn't care, probably shouldn't care, but of course he does.
Of course.
"You know how last week was my birthday?" Speedy blurts. Aqualad raises an eyebrow.
"Yes. I was there, remember?" he shoots back.
Speedy's lip retreats even further with a sharp, aggravated inhale.
"You put this - " Speedy turns and shows his left forearm, where two strips of kelp are wound around his biceps - "in my room. No note, no explanation. So." Speedy returns to his former posture, staring - he can tell, even with the mask - at the slowly flushing Aqualad. "I did some research."
Aqualad's eyebrows both shoot up, now.
"Yeah, I know how. And apparently it's a Atlantean way to show friendship. But not just any friendship, Aqualad - y'see, usually only brothers give them to each other. I couldn't find any time when it wasn't between any two people that weren't family," Speedy explains, his voice even and measured just as Aqualad feels like he's ready to sink into the carpet.
With shaking hands, Speedy reaches up and undoes his mask, revealing tightly closed eyes. He puts it into the pocket of his costume. Then he twitches, tenses suddenly, as if he's about to something terribly impulsive. Aqualad impulsively shuts his eyes and braces for the worst.
And instead he receives the full force of Speedy crashing into him, holding him in the fiercest hug he's ever received.
"Thank you. Thank you. Finally. Finally. Someone finally gets it," Speedy whispers into his left shoulder.
Aqualad doesn't get it. But then, almost instinctively, he wraps his arms around Speedy in return - and of course then he gets it.
Speedy's all masks, all show and an entirely different substance. It's so incredibly obvious - of course it is, how could he not have recognized it?
Speedy pulls back, his hands moving to grip both of Aqualad's shoulders. He speaks through the tears that lightly decorate his face, that leak from his wide, wide blue eyes.
"You're the first person I've been able to call my...friend...in a long time. And I just...wanted you to know that. So, um...thanks, man," he says, squeezing Aqualad's shoulders, nodding once, and turning up the hallway to leave.
He gets about three steps before Aqualad stops him.
"Speedy?"
Speedy turns.
"Come on in," Aqualad jerks his thumb to his still-open doorway. "If we're going to have these girly confession talks now that we're friends, I'd rather do mine about what's under Raven's cloak in the privacy of my room."
Speedy smiles, then breaks into a beatific grin.
"Nice taste, Fish-Boy," he jokes, stepping forward.
Aqualad tenses as Speedy lumbers forward, then - to hell with it! - slings his right arm conspiratorally around Speedy's shoulders and walks over the threshold of his room with him.
The door panel slides shut behind the two of them, shut on an instigatory past, harboring the tentatively caring friendship between two teenage boys who want desperately to learn how to fully rely on somebody else for a change.
Author's Note: Ahhh. Don't you feel warm and cuddly and fuzzy now? Do me a favor and let me know if you are - or aren't - in a quick review! It takes only seconds if you have only seconds to give, but it gives hours of happiness to me. Really, it does. So be a pal and review! Thanks!