Words: 1,215
Character/s: Wally/Artemis
Notes: Oops, I angst'd. But, to be completely honest, angsty romance is my favourite kind of romance and Wally and Artemis just seem like the kind of couple who can sell really good angsty romance. And kissing in the rain. Not all couples can do that with a flair of sexy and a dash of sweet. On a different note, as I wrote this, I listened to Kiss Me by Sixpence None The Richer, which kind of matched the tone of the one-shot. Finally, heh, when I said "the more, the merrier," I didn't think I'd take myself up on that challenge so soon. Without further ado, enjoy the slightly-lengthy drabble!

rain, #14

You are not running away.

You are, one hundred percent, absolutely, totally not running away. There is nothing nor is there anyone to run away from. There is nothing to be afraid of, Artemis.

The only thing you're afraid of is yourself and what you're doing to … him.

x-x-x

"Aww, shit," Wally says as the sky suddenly blacks out and buckets of warm rain starts pouring down from the heavens. He quickly shakes his jacket off of his back and drapes it around your shoulders. You actually laugh out loud and grab his hand because his jacket isn't going to do much against the torrential downpour. According to Zatanna, sudden downpours only happen a few times during the year in Happy Harbor but when they do happen in September, they're merciless, as if the gods above have decided to just let her rip! To Tartarus with the mortals below! Let's see what they can really do.

Too bad for the gods that you love the rain.

You grasp onto Wally's hand a little tighter and drag him into the wide, open road. You're both soaking wet now, his jacket is sagging heavily on your shoulders and his yellow t-shirt is sticking deliciously to his chest. With your free hand, you trail your fingers lightly across his chest and grin delightfully when his breath catches.

Wally looks at you like you're a crazy woman, and hell, maybe you are. You're in love with this fool. But this fool makes you happy and he's changed you so that you've learned to smile with that extra crinkle in your eyes and he's taught you how to be a rock star on Friday night karaoke nights and you've taught him what gets you going late at night and he, likewise, but most of all, he's made you happy. Happier than you've ever been for the past nineteen years of your life.

"Dance with me," you whisper in his ear, and you pull back to make sure he gets a look at your eyes because you're positive they're twinkling brighter than the fieriest stars in the cosmos. Wally looks as if he's not sure who you are and at the same time, he looks as if he's never been turned on more than right now, right here, with you.

He's always been the better dancer, but that's never stopped you from trying, occasionally tugging and messing up the steps in your attempts to lead. Like the pair of wild youths you both are, you twirl, jump, run and move together in the thunderous storm. Together, you dance. Together, you dance with the rain, and the rain dances with you.

He laughs when you stumble and when you slip on the dangerously wet tar of the road. He quickly laces the fingers of your locked hands together and tugs you closer towards him. He moulds your bodies together, every inch of your soaked, panting form pressed up against his wet, sturdy frame. He leans in close and touches your foreheads together and he smiles at you as if he's never seen anything so beautiful in his life. The only parts of you that aren't touching are your mouths. But those are also hot and gasping, just like the rest of you. Your lips reach out and grasp to know his and it only takes a second and a streak of lightning across the rumbling, angry sky before he tilts his chin and finally captures your lips with his.

The storm continues to blow all around you and the rain just pounds harder and harder with every passing second but you kiss him with everything you have and everything you are.

x-x-x

It's severely chilly for just the beginning of November, the lamplights of Happy Harbor randomly flicker on and off, and to top things off, the sky is crackling with unrestrained electricity. You only make it to the next lamppost before the first drops of rain make it to the pavements. Some of the rain lands on your cheeks as you lean against the lamppost and turn your face towards the heavens.

Have at it, you tell the gods. You've got me now.

At least the next person who passes by will simply mistake your tears for the rain but you can distinguish nature from agony pretty easily when the former is ice cold and the latter tumbles down in hot, staggered streaks.

It's just your luck that the next person who passes by happens to be Wally.

"I have nothing to say to you," you whisper under the drowning noise of the rain. He frowns but whereas half an hour ago, he was glaring and scowling and seething with anger, now he's just hurt and wants you back in his arms.

"Then just listen," he says in the same volume. You don't know how you can hear him above the rain that slams down on the concrete and the tin garbage bins behind you but then again, ever since you were fifteen, everything and everyone had always tuned out whenever he was in the same room.

He raises a hand and you think he means to hold onto you somehow so you flinch away. Instead he holds onto the lamppost above you and takes a deep breath.

"I'm not happy about this," he starts, "and I would gladly trade anyone, anyone to take your place." His grip tightens on the lamppost and your breath quickens. There's that anger in his eyes again but this time, it's not rash and impulsive, it's passionate.

"But if this is what you want - what you need to do, then I'll be right here, right behind you," he finishes, loosening his grip and stepping away from her.

You stand there with a gaping mouth and a heartbeat that's fast enough to alarm the next cardiologist. Wally's shoulders look defeated but his eyes tell differently. He understands. He gets that this is a part of you and there is no way you would have ever said no to this job, but he gets that now. It just took him a while, as it always does.

You're not sorry that you're taking this job, nor are you sorry that you skipped out right in the middle of your fight with him. You're not sorry that you'll have to lie to everyone and fight (and most likely hurt) the family you've learned to love and care for.

You're sorry that you're taking a huge chance in leaving him. Forever. You're sorry that you'll have to fight him in front of your family and pretend that all you want is to hurt and kill. You're sorry that you'll have to be so far away from him for such a long time.

You want to tell him, but words are for later. Actions are for now.

You pull him close, as close as he held you back in September, and you kiss him with as much fervour as that of the rain that pounds down on your heads, and you're still crying, but he's here now.

You kiss him under the rain for the longest time and you give him your all and your everything because he, out of the billions on this planet, is the only one that deserves that.

I'm a sucker for rain, if you haven't noticed by now. Please don't hesitate to leave your thoughts and comments in a review!