So, I have this ridiculous headcanon where Artemis knits. I don't know why, except that I knit, and I find it immensely relaxing, and I've always got the impression that she has some kind of anger/stress management that doesn't pertain to her hero career. She needs it, with the people she knows.

This is going to be just a loosely connected series of oneshots about Artemis's supposed knitting habit, and how it relates to the team. They're in chronological order, but there is no set passage of time between them-it could be days, weeks, months, unless I specify otherwise.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own sticks and strings.

Sticks and Strings

Artemis was too protective of her backpack.

Wally, curious to a fault as he was, could never simply take the "I don't want you screwing with my homework" excuse at face value. No, there had to be something more.

He wondered what could be so valuable-or dangerous-that she had to keep it locked in her backpack locked in her room until she went home. Was it money? Stolen jewels? Drugs? Embarrassing snapshots of the team-or worse, half-disguised snapshots that revealed their secret identities? Wally hadto know.

"Psst. Robin."

The Boy Wonder looked up from his homework and raised an eyebrow over his sunglasses. "Any particular reason you're hiding behind the island, KF," he said at normal volume, his lips taking on a slightly patronizing smirk.

"Keep it down! The she-witch will hear you."

Robin rolled his eyes behind his glasses. "For the love of God, Wally, she's not a witch, she's your teammate. That's pushing boundaries right there, even for me."

Wally crawled out from behind the island, crouching his way to the kitchen table. "I need your help."

"With what, dare I ask."

"Getting into Artemis's room."

Robin's eyes narrowed. "KF, we weren't going to pull that-"

"Shh," he exploded, slapping a hand over his friend's mouth. "I just need to get into her room, okay? I wanna see what's in her backpack."

"...Even for you, that's a little creepy."

Wally sat back, exasperated by his friend's lack of enthusiasm. "No, you don't get it. You know that old saying, 'you can tell a lot about a woman by the contents of her purse'? Same thing. This is a golden opportunityto finally get some dirt on her!"

Robin stared at him. "You think I don't have dirt on her. I'm hurt, KF, I really am."

Wally glared. "Are you going to help me or not?"

After a long, silent moment in which Wally was certain Robin would refuse, he shrugged and closed the textbook he was highlighting. "Let's go."

-x-x-x-

The room was sparsely furnished, only with standard issue Justice League furniture. There was a single knit blanket on the bed and a pillow without a pillowcase. No posters, no pictures, nothing that would indicate the room belonged to Artemis.

Except for a worn canvas rucksack sitting on the desk chair.

"There you are," Robin said, waving his friend into the room and flicking on the light. "Let's take a look so I can get back to my homework."

"C'mon, don't tell me you weren't glad for a study break."

"I wasn't, I have a test tomorrow. If I fail, I'm coming for you."

"You won't fail, you're the effing Boy Wonder. Now, what do we have here," Wally said, opening the drawstring under the rucksack's flap. He carried it over to the bed as he did so, and dumped the contents out on the blanket. Out fell three standard spiral notebooks-apparently, Artemis had Algebra II/Trigonometry, English II Honors, and French III on either Tuesdays or Wednesdays, depending on her homework style-which Wally stacked and set to the side. "Now, the good stuff."

Robin picked through the pile and pulled out a tube of shimmery pale pink lip gloss. "Huh. She always struck me as a Chapstick kinda girl," he said, filing the information away for later.

As they sorted through the contents of the backpack, they found a midsize drawstring bag sitting under a pair of gym shoes. "Aha, this must be it," Wally said, holding it up to test the weight. "I bet it's drugs. Cocaine or speed, maybe."

"Nah, Artie's not the type," Robin said dismissively. "I think it's make-up, and she's secretly a girl."

"But we already found the lip gloss, why would she have more in its own bag?"

"Women are strange creatures," Robin said, leaning back on his palms. "Just open it, the suspense is killing me."

Wally pulled open the pouch and squinted to see inside. Brow furrowed, he poured the contents out onto the bed in the same inconsiderate manner as the rest of her backpack's contents had been treated. "What the..."

"Oh my god..."

Robin burst out in laughter.

"What? Do you even know what this is?"

"She-ahahaha, she- Was not expecting that, ahahahah-" Robin fought to regain control of himself, and sat up again. "She knits, KF. See?" He held up the shapeless mass attached to four sticks. "It's the toe of a sock."

Wally squinted. "Huh. So, wait. She... What? That's her big secret?" He folded his arms. "Lame."

"Thanks, Wally. I'll be sure to cross you off the Christmas presents list."

They both turned to the door and stood up quickly. Artemis pushed herself off the door frame and took a step into the room. "Really, guys? My backpack? Is nothing sacred anymore?"

Robin held up his hands. "I'm under duress. That yarn is very nice, though-is it wool? Alpaca?"

Artemis shook her head with an amused smirk. "Bamboo, actually. And don't be a kiss ass, it's unbecoming. You're free to go."

"Thank you. I'll be studying for my sociology test that I'm going to fail if you need me," he said, shooting a pointed look at Wally before leaving.

"So. Satisfied?"

Wally studied her warily, trying to gauge how badly he was about to be beaten for his transgressions.

She snorted at his terrified silence and moved to clean up the mess he'd made. "Looks like you're out of luck, Kid Mouth. I usually keep my cocaine in that pouch. My dealer's just out of town this week so I haven't picked any up."

He stared. "You... Really?"

She punched him in the shoulder without fanfare and turned to repack her bag. "You're gullible. Get out of my room."

Wally lingered for a moment too long, watching her carefully wind up the ball of blue-green yarn that had fallen on the floor.

"Did I stutter?"

"No, ma'am. I'm out," he said quickly, racing out of the room and closing the door with a wind-powered bang behind him.

She knits. That's it. Damn.

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