I didn't have time to write anything so I took a oneshot I've been working on for a month and added the lyrics to 'Sparks' by Coldplay I'm sUCH A LAZY KLORBAG.

PLUS THIS IS THE WORST THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN I'M GOMEN.

I might go through this and change it later idk.

Title: And I Know I Was Wrong, But I Won't Let You Down
Characters/Pairings: Wally West/Kid Flash, Artemis Crock/Artemis, Wally x Artemis
Words: 961 (woW THIS IS SHORT)
Rated: T
Genre(s): Romance, Humour (?)
Summary: (Spitfire Spectacular) Day 1; Sparks; Despite the fact that he got no reading done at all, Apollo Crock would look back on that night and smile. /Genderbent AU
Disclaimer: I own nothing.

~0~0~0~

My heart is yours,

It's you that I hold on to,

That's what I do.

And I know I was wrong,

But I won't let you down.

~0~0~0~

"Hey, Apollo?"

Apollo Crock looked up from his book; his very well written book that he was hoping to get done that evening, but no, someone just had to interrupt. He was tired and irritable that afternoon; even after having numerous showers his short blonde hair was still stained with small clumps of dried mud, his eyes still feeling the sting of the gas released by Poison Oak's spores.

God, he hated that guy. The way he would nearly faint when they cut down his 'babies' - a.k.a. something that looked like it came from a messed up rendition of Jack and the Beanstalk - that was trying to suck them into the ground and leave them there. He was a walking pain in the ass.

Oh, and speaking of walking pains in the ass.

"Yes, West?" He growled, trying to sound as menacing as possible so she would go away.

The girl let out a huff and crossed her arms. "The name's Wendy. And no need to be so rude." She had intended on being nice, but his unbridled anger at her presence had thrown that out the window immediately. "I was just gonna ask why you were acting so douche-y today."

He rolled his eyes and scowled. "Wow, I'm touched."

"Oh, you know what I mean." Concern slipped into her voice, but her expression was still uncaring, her arms still crossed, as she gazed at the ceiling blankly so that he wouldn't see how the compassion was reaching her eyes. The two still weren't on the best of terms, and she didn't want him knowing she actually, y'know, cared.

No one spoke for a moment (in which he was completely oblivious to the blush that had flooded her cheeks as the silence became more and more awkward and she realized that she was only in underwear, bed socks and a Flash tee-shirt Aunt Betty had given her). When he finally responded, he picked some dirt out of his hair and held it where she could see it, before flicking it away.

"Why'd you think?" His sarcasm was evident, but he also sounded really, really tired and Wendy found herself softening.

Taking a seat beside him on the sofa, she sighed. "Yeah, that was a hard mission. But why aren't you asleep? It's, what, 3 a.m? You seem tired but you're reading, not sleeping."

He raised an eyebrow at the girl, placing his book on the table as she undid the messy bun her hair had been in and it fell down past her shoulders in loose curls. "What about you? You're not asleep either."

"That's different."

"How? You put as much effort into that mission as I did."

"You never answered my question."

He considered her for a moment. She was avoiding his gaze, arms crossed firmly once again, shoulders stiff. Not for the first time, he wondered why she was always so... difficult around him. When talking to Zachary and M'att (especially M'att), she was so relaxed and bubbly. But then he said hi and her tone would drop. But then, here she was, concerned for him even though he did this after so many difficult missions.

She's probably just doing this to mess with his head, or something.

"I don't know, actually." Apollo answered truthfully, shrugging and looking down at his hands. They were quiet once again; Apollo pretended not to notice her shooting him sideways glances. Finally, he frowned at her and spoke up. "How's the injury?"

Her hands flew to her side, as if protecting it, gently poking the area bandaged. "Not bad. It's not as painful." She paused. "Black Canary did a great job. He's always been good at stuff like that."

"So, you're not... you're okay, right?" He asked cautiously, glancing at her. She gave him a look of confusion and he heaved a sigh. "Hey, don't be so surprised. It's not like I like seeing you hurt."

She smiled smugly and gratefully, somehow. "I would have never noticed." A pause. "But, uh, thanks. I guess."

"Yeah. Sure. Don't mention it."

A sigh came from beside him and he turned his attention back to the red head. "Look, can I say something? Just, don't respond. And if you ever repeat this, tell Zachary or even acknowledge that these words left my mouth, I will end you."

She growled and Apollo (though he'd never admit it) shrank ever so slightly in his seat. "I'd like to see you try." He muttered when she calmed, but if she heard she ignored it.

Taking a deep breath, she fixed her gaze on the floor so she wouldn't see his reaction. "Okay. Okay, so, I guess I just wanted to say that you're not... you're not too bad. You can be nice, I mean. When you talk to M'att, you seem so much more - so much more civilised." She made a face. "That sounded better in my head. You know what I mean."

Apollo nodded, his mouth forming a playful smirk. "You really need to practice complimenting people. That was appalling."

"Didn't I tell you not to respond?" Long wavy curls hid her face, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Ah, but I never agreed to that, did I?"

"You're an idiot."

"You're a ginger."

"I - what?!" She whipped around to glare at the archer and he laughed so hard he felt his eyes blur with tears. Her face grew red enough to match her hair. "Y-yeah, well, you're a dumb blonde!"

Drying his steel gray eyes, Apollo Crock leaned towards his team mate, narrowing his eyes, which housed a challenging glint. "Do you really want to go there? Really?"

Leaning forward in response, green meeting gray, she grinned.

"Bring it on."

~0~0~0~

And I saw sparks.

Yeah I saw sparks.