Whenever you deal with the cruel hand of "fate" (i.e. luck), there's always that side of the die that has bad luck, worse luck, and worst luck. Today, of all days, Jinx, who thought she controlled that die, rolled out "worst luck."

It was a wet, rainy day. The sky had puked all over her; dampening her clothes to a more depressing hue, letting her oddly pink hair sag down. Her mascara raced to the end of her face; she looked like she'd been crying, or playing finger paints on her face, either or.

Great, she thought, noticing her reflection in the mirror, and the faces gawking just behind its face. She made up her mind half-way to growl back at them, but that was on her "not-to-do list."

#43- Do not show unnecessary cruelty to citizens.

Why'd she keep this stupid list with her anyway? She thought this even as she pulled it out again, overlooking her dozen promises. She then brought out the answer.

It was fading now, withered down to a few dark petals, but its symbol meant more than its beauty. This rose…and its giver…it was her prompt. Maybe if she changed herself…

This next list she pulled out was mental:

Maybe she could change herself: a jinx she would be no more. She could be…whatever she was, whatever she wanted.

Maybe she could change herself enough that he would come back.

Or maybe she'd find him.

Jinx sighed again; was it hopeless?

But just then, fate's dice rumbled across the table. A city bus, driving way beyond the speed limit, came rushing down the street, flying through every rain puddle that had formed in the street. All the sloppy water conveniently lodged onto Jinx.

Mud dyed her body brown; and water soaked against her painstakingly written and adhered-to list; bleeding the ink into unintelligible letters.

Jinx also lost her handle on the rose.

Her eyes glowed hot-pink: hot, hot pink. They burnt through the mud caked over her eyes and an orb of energy demolished what was left of her letter.

#1- Do not use your powers for anger or selfish gain.

A violent, broken sigh escaped her.

She trudged on then, her feet dragging, the rain slopping all over the place like a New York crowd; everywhere at the same time, bustling, making every corner claustrophobic.

What bad luck.

She trampled over a scarlet petal. She didn't care. She'd never find the rest of that stupid rose.

She felt like a fool. She'd been feeling like a fool. She was trudging around from city to city—and for what? To restrain herself from killing almost every stupid jerk in a mile's radius; to change herself for some flirtatious hero-wannabe who had ruined her chances and her dreams? Anger broiled underneath her brow; she felt her face grow warm with it.

She sneezed. No, she was just getting a fever. A stupid cold from staying in the rain.

"Bless you."

There was just no way.

She turned in one breathless swerve, and blue eyes met her. And red hair. And ridiculous spandex.

And that smile.

She slowly took him in.

"You get caught in something?" He asked in that voice that sent chills through her. Stupid, she knew; but she could listen to him read a phone book. She almost didn't get mad at him.

"Where the heck were you?!" she asked, letting the anger of her mud-adorned appearance, her previous frustrations, and her bad luck voice itself.

He didn't faze.

"Didn't realize you cared that much." His hands were about his head now, his smile was bigger, his eyes were looking away.

Look at me! Jinx thought. Stupid hormones.

As if on cue, he did draw his glance back at her. Now her wish reversed; go away, go away! She couldn't take him staring at her this way, especially now that he was--.

Holy crap! When did he get that close? Jinx couldn't stop her eyes from blinking nervously.

In a flash, he was gone. Jinx blinked once now, confused, and then empty.

Then a gust of wind announced his return. Jinx's soul was elated, lifting itself, re-filling.

"Sorry 'bout that," Flash muttered with a smile, "I had to get you something."

A violet?

Kid could only grin bigger.

"Since you have bad luck with roses,"

Jinx gripped the flower tenderly.

"Willing to come with me this time?" she heard him ask.

Without looking up, she replied easily.

"Yes."

The die of fate rolled across the table.

--

Whoot! Jinx/Kid Flash. Written late into the night; a tribute to a favorite pairing.