A/N: I realized that I wouldn't be able to get everything in The Grid that I want. So… this fic is about Hotstreak and Permafrost.
Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Static Shock it would have had another season if I did.
Merrowww…
Hot and Cold
Exhausted and covered in soot, Hotstreak collapsed onto the third-hand couch. He didn't care that he was still wearing his work apron or that his lame sweat soaked bandana was getting his hair damp. The blond striped redhead was content to lay there.
…well mostly content.
He would really like a beer but getting up was too much trouble.
The ex-gangbanger flinched ungracefully when something cold and wet pressed into his bare shoulder. Emerald green eyes shot open and darted around wildly. He stopped smoldering once he noticed the can and recognized the young girl holding it.
"Thanks," Hotstreak grunted as he took the can. He racked his brain to recall what Foley told him the girl's name was. May? Mary? Margret? Right, Maureen! "Maureen, when did you get in?"
"A few hours ago." Her hair was light brown and her skin was a normal human color. The (as he found out) preteen fidgeted with the bottom of her new soft blue shirt that was only two sizes too big. She mumbled to herself and then continued loud enough for the other metahuman to hear. "I took a nap."
The redhead only 'hmmed' in response. His attention focused more on opening his beer. Hotstreak took two long gulps of the delightfully cold beverage and sighed in bliss. Out the corner of his eye, he saw 'Frost—Maureen still standing there awkwardly.
"You plannin' on sittin' down sometime?"
The younger Bang Baby made a vaguely distressed noise as she looked for a place to sit. The couch was out, since the male currently took up 90% of the couch and did not intend to move anytime soon. She felt that it would be inappropriate to sit on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. Maureen ended up settling for the edge of the black futon.
"If you want to watch TV, go for it."
After a few moments, the "back of a truck" bought and Gear modified television turned on. The channels flipped for a while before settling on some nature documentary.
Hotstreak drank more of his beer; it was warming quickly in his presence. Out the side of his eye, he watched Maureen. The other metahuman looked much better fed since she had started sort of staying with him, at least her joints didn't stick out as much but he was pretty sure that she was gonna be skinny for the rest of her life. He snorted to himself, she'd be lucky if her growth wouldn't stunt permanently. All of her clothes were still too big not exactly fashionable, but he knew that his Princess tried to help her out, the softie.
The ex-con frowned.
It had occurred to him, not for the first time, that he might possibly be going soft. It was an uncomfortable thought. Soft people tended to get stepped on and pushed around. Dakota's a dog eat dog kinda city; the kind get used up and the mean, the greedy, and the smart got everything. Hotstreak had decided a long time ago that he didn't want to be soft.
But here he was, seated not five feet away from the evidence. A little orphan homeless girl he rescued and took in, in spite of himself.
Damn… the Princess was rubbing off on him.
"Hey kid!"
"Y-yes?"
"Why do you hang out here?"
"…because you helped me and said I could stay as long as I wanted to?"
"Why in the world would you want to hang out with me? Haven't you heard about me?"
"urm… y-yes s-sir, but you're not really as mean as people say."
SMACK!
"um… Mr. Hotstreak, Reverend Anderson says that hurting yourself won't solve your problems."
Merrowww….
A/N: Some feedback would be nice, especially if anyone has any suggestions of things I could clear up in The Grid.