A/N: An AU fluffy story about Wally West and Lucky (Jinx) getting lost and found in the countryside of eastern Nebraska 3

Enjoy! xoxo

Lost and Found

It's better than nothing.

The thought continued to throw itself against the walls of her brain, even as she meandered through the crowd and pulled up a seat at the bar. The place was loud and warm, thumping and pulsing with bodies and loud music. Music with edge, guitars that twanged, voices that drawled and lulled and growled. Heavy drums and bass lines that you felt in the pit of your stomach. The scents hinted at wood smoke and fatty meals, real food that joined the bass beats down in your belly to give you that taken-care-of feeling. Smiles everywhere you looked, laughing faces, flirtatious smiles, smoldering eyes of people that turned existence into an art. They didn't just reside, they lived. They breathed. They saw things and felt things that Lucky had never experienced before. And as she looked around from her seat, the tall stool adding to the feeling of smallness washing over, she began to have the sneaking suspicion that had she been given those things that were meant to be felt, she would not have a clue how to go about feeling them, and sure, she would be seeing, but what was seeing without the proper emotion behind it?

So, this is Nebraska.

Better than nothing.

For the millionth time on her journey, she realized that this was the furthest she'd been from her house in San Francisco. Before Omaha, it'd been Lincoln, Nebraska. Before there, it'd been somewhere in Wyoming, just after Yellowstone. Before that, she had realized it once near the adjoining border to Idaho, then another time in Boise. Before Boise, it had been every mile after Carson City in Nevada.

She thought back to the first with a mixture of sickness and pride. The sign had been big and bright, cheery even. WELCOME TO NEVADA!

That's right, twenty-one years on this miserable planet, and she'd never been out of California. And leave it to Lucky to be one of the unlucky ones - ironic, given her name - to be able to say Cali was not what it was cracked up to be. A pretty jewel that did little to satisfy anyone looking for more than a bauble to put on a shelf and admire and yearn to be compared to. Indeed, Lucky was very unlucky.

"Darlin', are you ordering or just takin' up a seat?"

So caught up in the constant contemplation that was her self-pity, a brand all her own, Lucky nearly jumped from her skin at the voice. Said voice belonged to the bartender, a woman maybe five years older than herself, in a white shirt and slacks.

"Oh! Sorry." she said, her voice hoarse. Another shock dawned on her, when she realized this could possibly be the first thing she'd said above a mumble in two months. And of course, this caught her in the age-old predicament of being so eager to speak that the words necessary to do so were lost to her.

The woman smiled sympathetically, her brown eyes crinkling at the edges as they flickered down the girl's sparse frame, drowning in a black hoodie. She leaned over and asked, "Does a burger sound good?"

Lucky could only nod.

"A beer?"

Another mute nod, followed by the rifling through the millions of pockets in her cargo pants for her I.D. Hesitant, she handed the plastic card to the woman, who eyed it, and smiled.

"Well Lucky, happy birthday." And just as quickly as she'd come, the bartender was gone, without any comment about her strange name. That's new, she thought bitterly, remembering the multiple times she'd tried to start conversation with her fellow bus-riders and gotten weird looks for her name. But not only was it her legal name, it was a curse. Naming your child Lucky was simply tempting fate, begging the universe to make her life as miserable as possible. And the universe had been very successful.

Sighing as she looked as the forty-plus people in this bar, she figured she might as well get comfortable. Well, as comfortable as she could get in a bar of denim-clad farmer-types and beautiful bumpkins hanging off their arms. The music was beginning to grow on her though, as it began to wind down from the blood thumping beat to a softer, lonelier sound, rather fitting to her mood. The weather outside for the past ten miles had been hell, as she'd missed the last bus of the night. Neither cold nor particularly warm, the skies had simply opened up above her and soaked her straight through. While this was nowhere near the ideal place to find refuge, it was enough, and she found the tension in her shoulders slowly seeping out as her clothes dried.

Better than nothing.

As she unzipped and removed her hoodie, leaving her in a only slightly less damp tank top, she found her eyes roaming the dance floor, which was more or less a crowd of bodies laughing and talking as they swayed to the beat. Some even sang along, the sound of jovial and slightly drunken voices lightening her mood. It almost made her forget why she started this journey in the first place.

Almost.

After all, a young girl doesn't simply up and run from her seemingly perfect life in California with an absurd amount of money saved in a secret account to hitchhike, risk rape and starvation, and ditch various rental cars on the side of every highway from San Francisco to Nebraska for no reason.

Allowing her hazel eyes to brush along the bar, she found herself looking into those of a young man. In a happy group of his own, across the ocean of swaying customers, he stood with his back to the window, a beer in hand and a faint smile on his face. He stood out in a yellow tee shirt, a plaid button-down thrown carelessly over his shoulder. Something about the color drew the attention to his just-this-side-of-auburn hair, then to an impossibly blue pair of eyes. They were unbelievable, so distinct in his grinning face that she could see their color from across the dim light of the pub.

A stirring began to tickle her stomach, almost overpowering the ache for food. Her breath quickened, her face heated, and her palms started to sweat. It was clear, his effect on her, and the widening of his smile indicated he was fully aware. Yet he didn't get up, or make any other advancement toward her. He just leaned back into the wall behind him, and continued to watch her, and allow himself to be watched. His group hardly noticed, and she suspected him of being the outcast, the person only there for an occasional entertainment value, which was unbelievable for someone so attractive.

A quick pang of worry shot through her, and she had to fight the urge to look about her. Was he really even looking at her, or someone behind her? Surely it couldn't be. Not little Lucky, with her wrinkled cargo pants and dirty sneakers, with her damp clothes, her stringy brown and faded pink hair plastered across her forehead and shoulders. Yet, she was positive there was no one around her close enough for him to be looking at. No, the bar tender was at the opposite end, and all seats on either side of her were empty. She was entirely alone, being openly watched by the stranger in yellow with the impossible eyes.

"Order up, birthday girl!"

It was the bar tender's voice, again shocking poor Lucky to her core. Ripping herself away from the strange man's gaze, Lucky whipped around to find a plate piled high with French fries, and a thick burger with the works. The steam reached her face, and she had to restrain herself from practically diving in.

"Eat up, sweetie. You look like you could use it." The woman smiled again, an expression Lucky found looked rather natural on her face. She'd never been one for smiling.

"I'm Helen, by the way. The meal's on the house, and so is your first beer. From there on, I can't help you."

Lucky immediately shook her head, the weight of the debit card in her pocket suddenly very apparent. "No, I couldn't possibly accept… I mean I have plenty of money -"

"Things to worry about on your birthday." Helen finished with a cocked eye brow. She clearly wasn't taking no for an answer. "So accept the gift and eat up."

And that was that, for the woman, Helen, was off in a flash, called down the bar by a group of women she looked familiar with.

Staring down at the free food, Lucky closed her eyes momentarily. Oh, what the hell.

It's better than nothing.

She began to dig in; beginning with the biggest bite of burger she could manage without unhinging her jaw. Her last real food stop had been two days ago, from which she'd finished the leftovers of that morning. Her stomach had shrunk to the size of an infant's, and she had to desperately remind herself to both breathe between bites and leave some for the next day. If she could make it over into Iowa by the end of the week, she'd treat herself with a hotel stay. But only for a night, as she did not dare stay in one place for longer than necessary. Not for the fear of being found, that was impossible. She'd left no way to trace her, only a note that she would be back within the year, and a sketch of herself. Getting found was not a worry. It was finding something she was worried about.

Before she knew it, she'd downed almost all of the fries, and half of the burger. For the first time since she'd begun eating, she eyed her beer. She hadn't given it an ounce of thought.

It was her birthday.

It was her twenty-first birthday. And she was spending it alone.

Freaking wonderful.

Was alcohol really a wise decision? She had places to be in the morning. Even tonight she'd be forced to find a place off-road to set up a camp, somehow get out of this rain. Her little backpack only held so much; a tarp, some fraying rope, an abandoned sketch book, and a few other odds and ends. In the past two months she'd only gone shopping twice, always keeping with a color scheme of unnoticeable and unmemorable, and keeping on the path of comfort and function.

The nights were bearable and the days were manageable. She meant to head south after Iowa, maybe past the Mason-Dixon Line. She'd be in need of less and less clothes and more room to carry water as she went.

Which brought her thoughts back to the present. To drink or not to drink?

Steeling herself, she reached her hand toward the cold bottle, only to be stopped at the sight of Helen approaching her once again. "You want a water, darlin'?" she asked, placing down two Styrofoam boxes.

"Uh, yes, thank you. B-but I don't need the two boxes, I only have this left." Lucky briefly smiled her thanks to the woman, if you could call it a smile, as she picked up the second container to hand it back. It was already full.

Now she was starting to get frustrated. "Helen, really, I don't need the free food! I have plenty of money and I can pay -"

Helen only chuckled, catching Lucky off guard. "Honey," she started, taking the foam box from her and placing it on the counter. She leaned forward on her elbows, coming in close to Lucky as she looked over her shoulder at something across the pub. "You see that boy over there? The one pretending not to look at us?" she pointed subtly, urging her to peek behind her.

She gulped. "The one in the yellow?"

Helen smiled, nodding. "Yup. See, he wanted to buy you a drink, but I told him a meal would be a bit more useful in your situation."

Your situation. Lucky almost snorted. They all thought she was some pretty little hood rat, like she had no power over her situation. They had no idea that she could go to the nearest pay phone, and have her uncle's private jet here within the hour.

"What's his name?" she asked, chewing her lip.

Helen shrugged, straightening up. "Dunno, sweetie. But by the look of that smile, he's not taking no for an answer."

The man looked at her full on, a half-smile stretching his perfect lips.

Lucky squeaked.

Whipping her head back around to face Helen, Lucky immediately ducked her head, as if that would hide her. She suddenly wished she hadn't taken off her hoodie, feeling his cobalt gaze searing into a bare flesh of her upper back. "Is it that obvious? Do I look that much like a charity case?" she hissed half-heartedly. She already knew the answer. And she didn't like it.

Another chuckle from the older woman. "Sweetheart, that young man buying you a drink had nothin' to do with charity. And if you're plannin' on turning him down, at least do it gentle enough to warrant keeping the food."

Again with the whisking off, at the one time Lucky desperately needed to look busy. I've gotta leave now… But I need to change clothes.

She wasn't looking to be found, and she certainly wasn't looking to find. She'd over stayed her welcome, here in Omaha.

Leaving a couple bucks under the untouched beer, Lucky tossed the food containers into her backpack, hiked it onto her shoulder, and made a beeline for the restroom, feeling a certain pair of blue eyes following her the entire way.

"Damndamndamn." She muttered the mantra as she hurled herself into a stall and began the tedious task of changing. She was on her last resort clothes, tight jeans, another blue tank top, this one with a jewel detail around the too-low neck line, (she'd bought it on a whim and regretted it immensely), and her men's army jacket. Transferring her wallet, map, and the little loose cash she had into the pockets in the jacket, she pulled on new socks, her sneakers, and left the stall.

Damn.

A gasp escaped her lips, eyes wide as she beheld the person staring back at her from a mirror. Brown hair streaked with sun, slightly dried, hung around her face, sticking to her cheeks in spots, the ends fading to a pinkish color. They'd once been vibrant, rose and violet, but had since faded to an almost bubblegum color.

Her eyes, darkly rimmed with a need for sleep, seemed wild and hollow, almost too big for her small face, under eye brows that were fully there for the first time in years.

She'd been thin her entire life, but this was clearly on the unnatural side. Her legs held whispers of muscles, as did her arms, but her waist was shockingly small, and she knew she looked unhealthy.

Strangely enough, her once pale skin seemed to glow, and she pulled back her collar with a shock to find a tan line. She even had ghosts of freckles across her nose.

She was unsure of how to feel about her appearance. On the one hand it was obvious she needed to be more worried about sleeping and eating rather than getting onto her next city. On the other hand, there was a perverse pleasure in knowing she was nowhere near the same person she'd been two months ago. And it made her feel almost… beautiful?

She snorted. As if.

Reminding herself of the still very long road ahead, Lucky threw her backpack up onto her shoulders, trying not to mind the extra weight of the food from her blue-eyed admirer, and tried began to file this place into a part of her brain that would forget all about Omaha other than its awful weather and good food. Bursting through the door of the bathroom, she was determined to let this place, just like all the others before it, fade into another stop along her way.

That's when she got a face full of yellow tee shirt.

That didn't last long.

For a brief moment, she considered not looking up. But that was ludicrous.

And still very tempting.

"Oh, excuse me." She breathed, attempting a graceful exit. Barely glancing upward to avoid being completely rude, she clutched her coat closer to her body and skirted around him.

"Hey, hold on." His voice came from behind her, soft and full of laughter. There was soft tilt to the voice, something that pulled her almost as powerfully as his eyes. Keep walking.

A hand wrapped around her arm, gentle. She found herself letting the hand – the man – turn her.

"I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm -"

"That's nice! I-I have to get g-going. Nice talking to you." Lucky said cheerily, voice shaking. She sent a rather broken looking attempt at a smile his way, and was off before she could even glimpse the inevitable look of hurt on his face.

She burst through the door, hood up and arms wrapped tightly around her, rushing desperately back into the storm she'd been so eager to get out of an hour ago.

Lucky swore.

The storm, the torrential monster of wind and rain that had attacked her for the past ten miles, had completely vanished. Gone was the whipping wind, in its place a balmy breeze that caressed her skin and awakened her lungs. Gone were the suffocating clouds. Instead she found an impossibly wide sky, wrapping the entire horizon in black velvet, powdered with sugar and diamonds. Shooting stars winked at her, and she found a great desire to wink back. And she was found. Somewhere inside of her felt uncovered, naked, raw. New to the world. New to this sort of living.

But why? Why this sky? Why Nebraska? How could a sky, how could a single place, this little dirt parking lot in the middle of Omaha, Nebraska, in the middle of the country, make her want to find something? She'd been under night skies one could only dream of for weeks now, had seen nature at its best and worst. None of which had left her as short of breath as this. No, Nebraska was different. This place breathed. It made the very act of existence an art, much like the people in it. Nebraska felt. Nebraska was alive.

She heard footsteps behind her, scraping against the dirt in the parking lot. And she let them come. She just stood where she was, blinking at the stars, breathing in the air. Taking in the sounds of nature. Taking in for the first time what had been right in front of her for so long.

"You okay?"

It was her yellow-wearing admirer, buttoning his flannel shirt and standing just out of the corner of her eye. He was close to her, close enough that had she taken another step back her shoulder would become nestled against his chest. He smelled of smoke, of something homier than she anything she could dare to hope for.

If I'm not looking to be found… But what's the harm in getting lost?

Lucky turned him, allowing herself to look him straight in his very handsome face. He was clearly surprised, but his blue eyes danced with a restrained amusement. He mimicked her current pose, crossing his arms, a little bit of cockiness mingling with the happiness in his eyes.

"You got a name, cowboy?" she was out of breath, smiling, on the verge of laughter. Laughter. All because of a damned sky. The man smiled back at her, looking a little confused. Okay, maybe it wasn't just the sky.

"Wally. Wally West."

"You got a truck, Wally?"

He pointed, "Parked right over there."

She looked back up at the sky, chewing her lip again. The wind tickled her face, as if urging her on. She reached out and laced her fingers into Wally's, pulling him toward the truck. His laughter mingled with hers, and all she could think to say was:

"Then let's get lost."

The first installment of I don't know how many! Please please please review, it would mean the world to me! Thanks to all of those that reviewed my first Flinx story, please continue to do so. I adore this story, spent the entire day working on this before i leave for Vermont! Hope you guys like it, i apologize for anything out of character, but after all, it is AU. As the story continues you'll see more details from the Teen Titans tying in.

SO MUCH LOOOOOVE 333

xoxo