Letters to Logic

By Rose

Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans.

So, I'm riding back home in my parent's car. It's a four hour ride. And my iPod battery dies forty minutes into it. So I'm stuck there, listening to my parents homicidal mystery book-on-tape, and trying not to throw myself out of the car- when this pops into my head.

It's the product of desperate boredom. Give it a try. =) What's the worse that could happen?

Summary: An AU Jinx/Kid Flash story that could only be described as… quirky. A petty grudge war starring Starfire and Robin, and oddly enough, a puppy love Raven/BB on the side.

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Four secrets

Ambition can overwhelm even the most balanced man

The meanest girl is the most insecure

Love will warp and embitter the romantic

And the wisest will see life as it is and laugh

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Prologue: Frowning is Not Allowed

(Jenny)

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I would like to open my story with a strange, intriguing monologue in a wise, British, "come hither" voice…

But this isn't The Lord of the Rings, and I am no Cate Blanchett.

I would love to start with a series of mystical music notes that ring with both familiarity and magic…

But- tragically- this isn't Harry Potter, and my soundtrack is more of an odd combo of angry punk girl music (for me), earthy Indie songs (for Rachel), screaming metal angst (for Richard), quirky show tunes (for Kori), and what I like to call Best of the 40's: The Remix (a bizarre mixture of techno and oldies… for Wally).

I think I'll spare you the trauma.

I could mimic The Dark Knight and begin immediately with an intense bank robbery… Except- due to the lack of suspenseful crime in my story- that would be irrelevant.

Instead I shall first tell you what to expect. … This story is about love. (The woman I loved is… dead… )

Oh if only. But I'm not gay, and this isn't Moulin Rouge, no matter how much I wish I could co-star with Ewan McGregor.

No, there are no intense deaths- and even if there were, I wouldn't spoil it by admitting it in the first ten seconds.

Alas, we shall have to make due with my alluring charm and inviting prose-… stop laughing! That was not supposed to be a joke.

My story begins with- well, if we're being honest, my previous bitter ramblings, but after this prologue of sorts...

My story begins with a young girl.

You see, this story… my story, it is about love. And no, not the kind of love you would imagine.

This is no silly crush, or petty infatuation. None of that nonsense.

No, I'm talking about the real thing here. A kind of love involving chemistry and sparks, weak knees and that feeling of utter speechlessness.

My story is about that rare kind of love.

The moment where your soul meets its corresponding partner in another.

Love that is to be kept and cherished.

My story is about the deep, moving relationship between that young girl…

And her shoes.

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Part I: How Dare You! I Do Not Abuse My Position as a Boss

(Still Jenny)

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May 11th

I was having one of those days.

The kind of day where you hit the snooze button a millisecond after the alarm goes off, and in the process of getting out of bed you unexplainably fall back to a deep sleep for another hour.

The kind of day where you somehow manage to grab two different pairs of right-foot shoes in a desperate, rushed frenzy to get to work on time.

The kind of day where you trip while running down the stairs of your apartment, and suddenly understand why your left foot isn't cooperating- it's stuck in an inch taller right-foot shoe.

The kind of day where you stumble back up the stairs to get a functioning pair of shoes, and on the way down, still fall down the stairs- this time without the convenient excuse of a malfunctioning wardrobe.

The kind of day where you have to deal with whiny, uncooperative client after client, who won't cut you any sort of break, even though you're having the day from hell, no- their hair has to be done perfectly, and it has to miraculously fix all of problems in their life, or else no tip.

The kind of day where your personal demon, the five-year-old Ricky with an almost impressively long-lasting crying ability, steals your scissors and crawls under the waiting room couch, refusing to come out until his unimpressed mother returns, again without apology or advice.

You ever have one of those days?

I didn't think so. Only I, the current practical joke of the man upstairs, could have days like this.

"I'm calling it a night," Even I could hear the fury laced with fatigue in my tone. As I growled this I passed Audrey Gent, a young manicurist with a complimenting gothic style, gave me a bracing "cheer up!" smile, and quickly stepped out of my way. Had I not been so aggravated I would have smiled back, maybe even ventured a hug. This wasn't the first time I left her on her own, and I felt a little guilty going, especially since she was still adjusting to the new job. I made a mental note to bring her coffee tomorrow to show my appreciation.

Unlike Audrey, some employees weren't as understanding.

"Fine. Go if you have to, I certainly don't mind staying another hour to close up," The quietly condescending remark came from Seymour Blind: part time artist with a pair of scissors/part time snarky know-it-all/constant thorn in my side.

Leave it alone. I told myself with immense patience, and nearly succeeded until he threw in, "…Again,"

A milli-second after the word left his mouth I whipped around in sync with Audrey's quiet reprimand of "Seymour!"

"You insufferable bastard," I condemned, glaring at his tall, dark and lanky frame. "If I ask you to close every night for the next month, what will your answer be?"

Seymour rolled his eyes and folded his arms. When I continued to glare, he looked down and muttered, "Why I'd love to,"

"That's right, you overbearing, tasteless, scissor wielding baboon! And if I ask you: "Seymour, would you like to come at six in the morning to clean the bathrooms every Sunday until I say otherwise?" What would say?"

"Would I ever!"

"Correct. And if I ask you to clean the hair off the floor- with your tongue- what do you say then??"

Audrey giggled from the other side of the store. My stony expression cracked as a smile slipped out, and Seymour made a disgusted face.

"…Er, then I call my lawyer," The tension disappeared as I chuckled and relaxed. Laughing, he joined me in a shared grin and added ruefully, "Well I would call West if it were anyone but you, Jenny."

I snickered and gave him a quick hug. "You needn't call any lawyer. Tongue-sweeping is still Gizmo's job,"

Seymour let out a sharp, vindictive bark of laughter, and I smirked. We shared a mutual hatred for our cleaning boy.

I grabbed my purse from the asylum-white countertop and slung it over my shoulder. I felt even more guilty though for leaving Audrey and Seymour behind, and I turned back to the two, who were more of my friends rather than employees. And for all my initial rage, Seymour's snide comment had hit a nerve, and I uncomfortably questioned my position as a boss. "Okay. Would you seriously be pissed if I bailed?" I asked honestly.

Audrey shook her head no, always the placating one. I gave her what I hoped looked like a warm smile, and mentally added a big brownie to her gift of free coffee.

Seymour shook his head, "Naah, I was just kidding. I like to keep you in check, boss, you know that,"

Yes, I did know that quite well. I rolled my eyes a little but dawdled before the door, straightening the sheer purple and red curtains, picking off a dying petal from our flower arrangement. "Absolutely positive you don't care?"

The tall dark boy turned to me then, with an oddly desperate expression. "You can go, really Jenny, I take back everything I said," At my quirked eyebrow, he winked and jerked his head back towards Audrey, who was wiping down the mirrors and humming.

Awww. I didn't actually coo aloud, but my smile was probably overbearingly mushy enough. He made a face as I beamed and I couldn't help myself. I gave him encouraging thumbs up, giggling as he scowled disgustedly and shooed me away.

"Will you just get out of here?" He groaned, and I began to backtrack but smirked knowingly. Audrey, who had either been ignoring our exchange or been oblivious to it, called Seymour's name suddenly. Amused, I watched as his head snapped towards the petite dark haired girl so fast that I swear I heard a whiplash.

"Too cute," I murmured to myself on my way out and half-skipped my way to my car.

Unfortunately though, my day of doom was not over. A couple steps out of the door, I stumbled over a drain gate and fell forward, hearing a hideous snap as I went down. "Holy carrots!" I cried out for some reason (I honestly don't know) as I hit the ground hard. Immediately I reacted to the mysterious snapping sound. I turned quickly to survey the damage, and to my extreme distress saw the heel of my left foot shoe embedded into the steel net, separated from its partner. I cursed a nonsensical string of words as I twisted and pulled the decapitated heel free. Once I succeeded my grumbling turned into whining and I sat on the dirty ground in despair, cradling the heel close. "Poor thing," I sighed, pressing the heel close to my chest. And it was a shame, a heartbreaking shame. These were a favorite pair, and very dear to me. They matched with a lot of my outfits, and were a wonderfully accurate portrayal of my fashion style. Three inch heels, for height but still within sensibility, with a round toe for comfort, and made out of white leather. Best of all, on top of the toe sat a large, pink satin bow.

But no longer. "Damn you drain," I swore viciously as I dragged myself up. "Damn you to hell,"

And, still clutching the heel in my hand, I limped my way over to my black Chrysler, ready to go home, take a Tylenol PM, and sleep off the misery that was this wretched day.

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Part II: Yeah I'm Kind of a Pro at the Awkward Dance

(Wally)

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"I honestly don't know how we coped without you, West,"

Oh stop, you're making me blush. I thought to myself, smiling wryly. Yet somehow, I figured the comment was best kept to myself. Not that I would get in trouble, per say. In fact, I think I could have stripped down to my four-leaf-clover briefs and done the Chicken Dance around the office without so much as a reprimand.

Hmm… mental note: try that on Monday.

My boss, Mr. Valor, owner of the family-started law firm Value&Valor (Cute, am I right? And five generations of it), clapped my back enthusiastically. "Honestly, son, play your cards right and you might make a prime candidate for partner,"

I raised my eyebrows then, imagining Dick Grayson's horror-struck face if he heard that. "I take it you're pleased with Wilson's case," I assessed.

Valor grinned, and I could practically see the dollar signs flash in his watered down blue eyes. He ran a hand over his smooth bald head, a habit, I assumed, from when he had hair. "Pleased?" He repeated, "West, I'm barely restraining myself from kissing you right now,"

I barked with laughter, and turned to grab my briefcase. "You play your cards right, and you just might get to, sir," Valor snickered, and walked back to his desk with a visible skip in his step.

"See West, that's why I like having you on this firm. Good sense of humor. We need more of that," Mr. Valor said as he stared out from his window, most likely taking in the great view of Jump City and mentally calculating the amount of money he earned today.

"Well," I slung the heavy brief case under my arm and grabbed my box of files from the floor. "I really try to break the 'all lawyers are dull money-sucking scum bags' stereotype," The irony of the statement was lost though, as I walked away from the incarnation of the stereotype, himself.

Smiling, I pushed the door open with my foot, and walked out. In front of the Valor's grand office sat a smaller, yet considerably neater desk, where the floor's shared secretary sat. Kori's startling green eyes stared at me expectantly, and I gave her a friendly wink.

"Oh, does this mean I'm getting a raise?" I called back to my boss over my shoulder.

I heard Valor chuckle and call back, "You name the amount, boy,"

I grinned at Kori, who smiled warmly and gave me quick thumbs up. Mr. Valor's door closed, and I set down the heavy box on Kori's desk, opening my arms as she scurried around her desk and gave me a quick hug. "Congratulations!" She complimented, "I take it he was thrilled?"

"Threats of kissing were made," I admitted, nodding happily.

"…Did he mention anything about partner?" She asked hesitantly, and looked over my shoulder.

I turned to face Dick's steady icy blue gaze, as he leaned against the wall, arms folded with interest. I shrugged and looked down, and Dick flinched. "Just give it to me straight, West,"

"Well…" I rubbed my neck awkwardly, "He did mention… a possibility if I, well he said 'play my cards right'…'course, that could have just been the financial high speaking,"

Dick pursed his lips, and smiled half-heartedly. "Yeah, that could have been it,"

"I still think you're a shoe-in," I offered, wishing I could just leave and escape this horrible tension. Everyone in the building knew that Dick had been working to reach partner for the last three years. And as a new member of the company, a few short weeks before my first year here, I hardly deserved the position. "I mean, this was just this one case, and you've had tons more-,"

"Wally it's fine," Dick smiled then, holding up a hand to silence me, "You don't have to reassure me, what you did today is really good for the company," Kori relaxed visibly behind me, and only then did I know his smile was genuine. Kori and Dick had been together for about year, if not more, and they were remarkably in sync with each other's emotions and thought process.

They made a particularly attractive couple too. Dick had the look of a brooding movie star, complete with classic tall, dark, and handsome features. I couldn't make it through a coffee break without hearing someone gush about his "ice blue eyes" or his "coffee grind black hair" or (my favorite) his "tighter than spandex ass". It seemed as though every female co-worker in the building openly pined for him, all except the equally lovely Kori Anders.

If Dick starred in the women's daydreams, than Kori played a lead role in the males'. The secretary had an exotic beauty about her, with a very subtle French accent, light caramel skin, rich and long coppery red hair, and large celery green eyes. She completed every leg man's fantasy with extraordinarily long legs, and had an air of grace that made you want to watch her move about the room.

And best of all, she was the sweetest and most polite girl you could have imagined. If you caught her without a smile than the moment was a rare one. Her cheery disposition faltered only during a fight with Dick, or in the presence of her sexist boss Mr. Valor.

Speak of the devil... "Miss Anders, did you organize those files for me?" Mr. Valor barked into Kori's desk intercom. I quickly scanned Kori's desk and mentally crossed my fingers that she already did. And, of course, being as efficient as ever her desk was clean. Kori jabbed her finger into the intercom and responded politely, "I did, sir, and made a list of appointments in your daily planner. Also, you are scheduled to have lunch with your brother and his wife tomorrow at Poet's Place-,"

I detected nothing particularly offensive in her moderate tone, but Mr. Valor scowled and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor was heard. Before Kori could even flinch, the door banged open and the tall, broad shouldered man barged out of his office.

"Miss Anders, I have asked you time and time again to check with me before making these appointments-!"

Kori interrupted, "No, sir, you said appointments for work- and specifically told me that i don't need to check before booking anything with family, because the last time I did-," She was babbling now, and I grimaced for her. It was a well known fact that Mr. Valor had some sort of grudge against women, explaining his lack of marriage, and perhaps due to a sexual preference for a different gender.

Whatever the reason, female lawyers at Value&Valor were scarce. This was partially why Kori held only a secretary position, though she was over qualified for my own job, with a Harvard degree to boot (I, for one, got a full ride to Stanford).

Mr. Valor continued to chastise Kori while Dick and I exchanged glances. Well, more like an exchange of glares. I was more than ready to defend Kori, but felt obligated to pass that duty to Dick, seeing as they were practically engaged. It was a frequent moment though, and once again, Dick failed to stand up for his girlfriend. With a scowl in his direction, I quickly cut in and said, "Sir, with all due respect, I don't think she could have realized that this meeting with your brother and his wife was about business- and she was only following your orders. And if you need to reschedule, I'm confident Kori could make that happen immediately, just give her the date,"

Mr. Valor regarded me with cold eyes, and I gulped mentally. There go my plans for stripping and dancing like a chicken on Monday… I'm sure if I so much as coughed wrong now, my boss would now find a way to scold me.

On the other hand, Kori gave me a watery, but grateful smile that magically washed away all my anxiety. I felt a wave of brotherly concern wash over me, and I smiled back at her silent thanks, mentally sending Anytime.

Then I heard the office door close, and relaxed. "Woo," I sighed, shaking myself. "I'm off, and if I were you, Kori, I'd get out as soon as you can,"

Kori laughed a little, but was already gathering her things. "Seriously thank you Wally, I don't know what I would have done without you," Her tone was hard though, and I didn't have to look to see Dick flinch.

I walked away, sensing another tense moment, and barely made it out in time. The elevator doors were closing when I heard Dick's protest: "What? And risk the chance at getting partner?"

The doors clicked shut before I could hear Kori's response. "Run Dick," I whispered to myself, shaking my head. It was remarkable, how well his name currently fit. Yes, admit to your girlfriend that your job is more important than she is. Way to go.

Unless I was to be mistaken, Dick would be sleeping alone for the next two-to-three weeks.

The thought both mildly amused me and perturbed me; for a sexless Dick made my life a miserable one… no pun intended.

I thought this over as I reached the car garage and piled into my silver Mercedes. The worst was always that final stretch, which would be halfway within the second week. Knowing him, that's probably the longest he ever goes without since he turned sixteen.

I felt a little bitter over this knowledge as I pulled out of the garage and sped through the city. Not that I don't… engage in implied activities, I'm just particular about the girls I take home. My tastes, in all honesty, are absolutely random. For instance, to many men, Kori is the perfect girl. Yet I have absolutely no sexual feelings for her, only platonic.

Many of those who felt the same as me tended to head towards her best friend and foil, Rachel Roth, creator of the popular, previously mentioned restaurant, Poet's Place. The dark haired girl made weekly appearances at Value&Valor, to pick up Kori for their typical Wednesday lunch. They have completely contrasting features too, I did not exaggerate. Where Kori is tall and thin, Rachel is petite and a little curvier. Kori has straight red hair, and Rachel has dark brown curls. Kori's eyes are a vivid green, and Rachel's are a penetrating blue. Even their personalities juxtapose. While Kori is sweet, open, and cheerful, Rachel was dry, quiet, and a bit on the cynical side.

She was prime for any man with a mysterious girl fantasy, and was so openly pined for by newest recruit Logan Beast that he practically had 'DIBS' stamped on her forehead.

But as for me, I had no interest in Rachel. If I wasn't so secure in my masculinity (despite the pink tie, I assure you) I would wonder about myself…

I chuckled then as I pulled to a stop at a red light. "Don't be ridiculous," I reassured myself, and rolled my head back to crack my neck, a habit I developed while waiting at traffic lights. I caught a flash of pink in my peripheral vision, and glanced over to my right. I glanced away immediately, not being one to stare, and did a double take.

A grin slid across my face, and all need for gender partiality assurances disappeared.

You know those moments, where you see someone- and your initial reaction is "hello"?

But not just "hello"- but "hello"…?

That's exactly how I felt when I saw her.

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You know what?

I think this is going to be fun. :)

PS: I'm updating TMA today. The excitement!

Maybe this one too. (She's a machine!)

Review?