"Don't you think we're over doing it just a little bit, Ryce?" Robert asked looking up at the towering building. Even from here, stories below he could see the myriad of lights and strings and fixings the young woman beside him had insisting on covering the Tower with, "We usually just do…the edges…not the entire face of it."
Ryce looked over to him, pouting at his uncertain expression as snow flakes drifted down to stick to her glasses. Reaching up to pull her hat back a bit, she allowed herself a better view of their work. It seemed as if every single inch of the Tower was covered in unpowered lights and wire. With a puff of visible breath she turned back to him, still pouting.
"But s'gonna be so pretty, Rob!"
Glancing between her and the Tower before them he began to worry his lower lip. Tim had said not to over do it. And perhaps the man from Uberton could have been mistaken, but this definitely seemed to fall under the category of over doing it. Yes, definitely in that category. Fixing his expression into something that may have been called stern, he shook his head, "No, Ryce. We can't. Tim said to just-"
Her lower lip was trembling…she was looking up at him with imploring, shining eyes that were not really on the verge of tears but…just really SAD. Standing there in the snow – which after discovering her lack of Christmas experience, he had joined several others in insisting they ensure – looking up at him with an expression that reminded him somehow of a kicked kitten.
"…that is so not fair," he groaned and averted his eyes.
"Pleeeeeeeeeeease?" she whimpered looking up at her creation and tugging on his sleeve, "S'like the cool ones on Youtube…please Robbie? Pretty please?"
"Didn't Tim and Noel say STOP looking at the internet?"
Looking back down at her pouting face, he tried to steal himself against her pouting…that she was not actually sad. This was just a way to get what she wanted. Indeed, even though they had become much closer friends over the past few months she WAS still Ryce. And this was…
…going to end with him doing exactly what she said.
With a sigh and a nod, he couldn't help but smile when a grin ripped out across her face. A squeal of joy was his only warning before the thickly coated girl threw herself forward to hug him in a manner that could best be described as 'glomping.' For a moment, he questioned how much he actually minded this sort of 'manipulation' as he shook his head at her and laughed.
When the excitement had finally waned and she managed to pry herself away, he walked over to the chords lying on a dry rock nearby. Socket and outlet ends were disconnected from one another leaving the Tower face unlit and its typical dull grey – though wire covered – hue. A glance back found Ryce positively giddy with anticipation, going so far as to even be bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. For a moment, the Titan considered being so bold as to require a kiss for his agreement…he let the thought go as quickly as it came, whether out of a lack of courage or not wishing to ruin the childlike excitement on her face, no one could ever be sure.
"Ready?" he asked coming up beside her, his inactive Gauntlet hand passing her one side of the electrical chord.
She nodded, making her hat – a size or two too large for her – dip lower on her head and the bright greenish-blue scarf to ride up on her face. All he could really see of her face now was her glasses poking out from beneath the wintry garments and the occasional hint of the wide smile beneath her scarf. The glasses tilted up in his direction and the chord was held up.
They brought both ends together as the world lit up around them.
Blinding might have been a slight exaggeration when it came to the display. However, 'slight' was the key word in that. As it stood, Robert found himself blinking for a few moments as his eyes adjusted to the brightly lit and colorful array of lights glittering before them and continuing several stories upwards. Reds and greens and whites flickered with holiday cheer, some blinking erratically, some stable, others yet fading in and out with a sluggish pace. It was eclectic and random in its design, but even this randomness seemed to form a distinct sort of pattern…paradoxical as such an idea might have been.
All in all though? His tiny companion was correct. It was quite pretty.
"…Holy hats Batman," she whispered a hand lifting to tug her scarf down, drawing Robert's attention.
"Did you actually mean to say that?" he asked in amusement.
She did not seem to have an answer for this, watching the flickering – perhaps a 'bit' over done – display with silent wonder. Slowly, the awe managed to flee from her features to be replaced with a content and serene little smile. It was a peaceful and happy expression. So it did not come to the Titan as too much of a surprise when he leaned in just slightly to dip his head and take a ris-
The chord all but exploded with a flashing crack in their hands.
"Ow! Mother-tossin' bench chewer!" Ryce yelped dropping the crackling wire into the snow. Robert echoed her assessments in, perhaps, a more PG-13 manner, causing her to instantly look up at him, "Oi! Why do you get to curse!"
Why it was he was allowed this privilege was never answered as gunfire began to rattle through the air above them. Reflexively, Robert activated the Gauntlet, which spread a shield of energy around both of them. However, they both discovered their original assumption of gunfire was false. Above them, the Tower popped and cracked with flash pops and bangs of light. Tiny explosions, like fire crackers, going off as strings of lights over powered and grew so hot that the very glass around them burst out outwards.
Blank looks came over their faces as the humming of the generator next to them rose up into a dull roar. Acting quickly, Gauntlet got between his younger friend and the over-powering machinery, sending what appeared to be a dish cover – not unlike those seen in expensive restaurants – over its entirety. Not a second to soon, as a muffled boom immediately rattled from within the bubble-like shield.
Meanwhile…
"I want a hippopotamus for Christmas…Only a hippopotamus will do…urgh stupid kid."
Noel let out an annoyed grunt, drying off from his shower, warm water dripping from his hair. God above, he was trying not to be a grouch this Christmas, but of all the songs that HAD to be stuck in his head…did it really have to be THIS one? And for this long at that? Half in jest he considered upping the intensity of his "pupil's" training as punishment for getting this stupid tune stuck in his head before she had scuttled off to places unknown.
"No crocodiles, no rhinoceroses….I only like hippopotamuses…" he hummed quietly as he wrapped the towel around his waist and wandered into his room, "And hippopotamuses like me too…"
And then the room was flooded into BRIGHT light.
Eye snapped wide in surprise, the meta reeled about on his heels, hands flying up to ready several blades composed Shimmer strands. With no threat apparent in one direction, he turned to the next. It was now that he could see that the excess of illumination was pouring into his room through his window.
"What the hell?" he whispered making his way over to see what exactly was going on.
And then all the lights in the Tower hummed and went completely dead, pitching the room and its half-naked inhabitant into black. Caught by surprise by the sudden blindness, the white haired Titan stumbled roughly into the corner of his bed, his shin cracking sharply against it corner. Pain flared up his senses as he stumbled, first from the pain and then over his towel, balance betraying him in the darkness. A hand grappled blindly for something to ground him. What it ended up finding was his computer chair, which swung around and shot forwards on its wheels incapable of supporting the tall man's weight.
Noel had just enough time to let out a cry of protest before his entire form hit the window…and then went through it.
As if by magic, the shards of glass exploded around him, nary a shard piercing his all too exposed skin. Out of sheer survival instinct, the Shimmer lashed up and out, hooking into something in his room as he plummeted downwards in gravity's embrace. Due to this, with a rough jerk he came to a stop leaving him dangling some two stories down from his window…
…his towel was about three stories down, drifting away in the chilly winter breeze.
Moments before this, a wincing Robert began to lift the shields up and away from the blown generator to take a peek at the damage. Coughs ripped out of his mouth as oily black smoke began to pour out of the ruined machine and up into the air. He did not need to be a mechanical whizz to see the generator had been rendered toast…burnt toast, even.
"Aww…our lights," Ryce said in disappointment, looking up at the now dark Tower.
Robert nodded, giving up on fanning the fumes of the burnt out machinery as he came up beside her, a charred electrical chord in his hands, "Yea…we're gonna have to take them down and put up less."
It was then the young man realized that the Tower was too dark…as in not a single light reflecting out any of the windows. About to point this out to her, he was cut short by the sound of breaking glass and a familiar yell ripping out into the night above them. Both blonds looked up in surprise to see what the commotion was as a towel fluttered gently to their feet.
Robert looked confused for a moment before looking back down at the snow, "I really REALLY didn't wanna see that much of my teammate."
"…that…is a lot of naked Noel," Ryce said conversationally…before taking her cell phone out of her pocket and snapping a picture, "Wee…blackmail."
And now it was Ryce's turn to notice something…namely how dark the city was across the bay. With a cringe, she tugged on Robert's sleeve to point it out to him only for the door to the Tower to slam open. Terra aimed a flashlight into their eyes, neither one having to see beyond the blinding glare to know how livid the third blonde was.
"What did you two morons DO!" she yelled, "The entire city is without POWER!"
Neither seemed to have an answer for that, though Ryce kept looking up towards the top of the Tower every few seconds or so. Finally she began to nudge Robert and point to the chord he had picked back up from the snow. His eyes followed her gesture to find it himself before he looked back to the petite girl, "You know, Alaryce…the mature thing to do here would be to own up to what we did and suffer the consequences of our actions."
She nodded sagely, "Indeed. That would be the mature course of action, Robert."
"Hello? Are either of you nit wits to going to answ-" she began before – out of sheer reflex – she dropped her flash light to catch the smoldering chord Gauntlet had tossed to her. A quizzical expression came over her face before she looked back up, mouth opening to inquire once more what was going on.
What she got was a mouth full of slush as Ryce's snowball pelted her perfectly in the center of her face, sending the skinny Titan flat on her backside.
"SHE DID IT!" chorused the remaining two blonds, her ears filling with the sound of their hasty retreat through the snow. With a sputter and a cough she managed to clear the melting ice from her eyes.
Only to come face-to-face with a rather irate and hastily robed Noel.
"…is it pointless to try and convince you that I had NOTHING to do with this?" Terra sighed.
A curt nod was her answer.
"…well that's just ducky."
It was not a happy Tara Markov that stormed into the kitchen after half an hour of tedious, rabid grilling by the resident white-haired Drill Sergeant. Muttering curses under her breath, she slapped on her apron with a fury previously unheard of from anyone not working on the Food Network.
Her innocence on the events had been more or less easy to prove, of course, but Noel still dearly wanted and outlet and she happened to be there. …She really shouldn't have pointed that out to him; Noel only gets angrier when people call his bull for what it is.
Sophie glanced up to the thin blond, frowning at the tense body language and overall bad-moodiness eradiating from her long-time cooking rival and decided she didn't want to know what had taken her so long to get here badly enough to ask, and instead returned to chopping her vegetables. She was just glad that the tower had a backup generator otherwise they'd be pretty screwed as far as cooking went.
Still cranky, Terra took out her own knife—and God, did it feel good in her hands right now—and made for the fridge, taking out several ingredients to get to work.
"Hey, where's the bread?" She asked, looking for her prize.
"Using it for stuffing," Sophie replied quickly, walking back and forth to the boiling water with the cutting pan, dumping its contents.
"Well, give it here, I need it too."
"Once I'm done with it," Sophie replied distractedly.
"You're not even using it!"
"I'm preparing the stuff I need to have ready before I use it," Sophie said in annoyance. "Like maybe you should be?"
"Oh please, now you are a better cook than me? Tell me how to make my food?" Terra snapped. "Maybe when I eat it, I'll come to you for advice."
Sophie scowled, already riled up. "Yeah, you obviously need it."
"What did yo-"
She was cut off by the bag of bread being thrown at her. Terra scowled as she caught it, but went about to resume her work, a tense silence falling.
It was broken under five minutes later.
"I need the butter," Terra announced.
"I'm using it. In a minute."
"Can it be less? I have to add it soon or it won't be perfect," Terra grumbled.
"I'm going as fast as I can," Sophie sighed.
"But not fas-"
"Look," Sophie cut her off, working with her back to her—she knew that annoyed her the most. No one could say Sophie Mathews was a bad person. No one could say she was a saint either. "I'm making Christmas dinner for the whole house. You're helping, but you'll mainly be making Gar's tofu stuff. I need to use the ingredients for the larger group, and what's left you can use for Gar! That makes sense, don't you think?"
"No!" Terra snapped heatedly. "Since you eat like a truck, who knows how much you'll use? What if there's nothing left? There are no stores in this blackout! It makes more sense for me to finish the smaller meal quickly and then we can use what's left for the larger one without having to worry!"
"Well, I'm already using them, so we might as well do it my way, shouldn't we?"
"…Fine!"
"Fine!" Sophie snapped back, before pausing and hesitating. With a sigh, she said, "can you pass me the apples?"
"Using them," Terra replied promptly with a smirk, turning to pull the apples towards her.
"I only need a couple," Sophie tried again, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Wait a bit, I might end up needing more," Terra replied shortly.
"You're not going to use a dozen apples on one meal," Sophie says through clenched teeth.
"You might."
"Tara, give me the stupid apples, NOW!"
Terra turned to face the heavier female with a vindictive grin, perhaps forgetting that even without powers, she could likely… sit on her, at the very least. "Or what?" She sneered. "What are you going to do?"
Sophie narrowed her eyes.
Something brushed against her face, and her eyes snapped open.
"AaaaaaaaAAHHHHH!" Terra cried, flailing her arms helplessly. "Bats! Bats!"
But there were no bats: A lock of hair had fallen and trailed along her cheek and woken her… here. In a hallway in the tower.
Also, her butt was stuck in a wastebasket.
"What the…" Terra mumbled, looking down. A piece of paper was taped to her shirt and she ripped it off, reading.
BIMBO FOR FREE.
She twitched. "Ooooooh… you giant, unbelievable, BI-"
HNRRRRRN!
"Eek!" Terra cried, falling to her side—and still stuck, a part of her mind noticed—and frantically looked around for the source of the noise.
She needn't have bothered.
"Hey Tara, look what I found while I was putting away the burnt out Christmas lights," Gauntlet declared proudly. "Our old airhorns!"
"…Convenient."
"…can I go back in the kitchen to cook now?"
"No."
"Okay…how 'bout now?"
"No…"
"Fine!"
"…"
"…well how 'bout n-"
"I am about five seconds from locking you outside in the snow again, Ryce," Tim informed the girl sitting in the center of the table without even looking up from his newspaper. He would have kept reading even if not for the hands gripping the top of it, attempting to gently pull it away from his face.
"C'mooooooon. I wanna cook!" Ryce whined unhappily.
Tim managed to tug the paper out of her grip without causing any tears before he settled back into reading, "And I want a pony…you can't always get what you want, Ryce."
Silence on the other side of his newspaper. It was a much welcomed silence considering the night prior and the quasi-war that had broken out over those lights once Noel had finally caught up with her and Gauntlet…and the subsequent hours of restoring power to the blacked out city. Needless to say, Ryce had been badgering him ever since her banishment from ALL decorating, inside the Tower or out.
And then there were his current cooks…
As if on cue, there was banging somewhere in the tower followed by some rather nasty curses from Sophie Mathews herself, quickly returned by Tara. Apparently assigning Nigel to be mediator between the two was going about as well as expected.
"My kitchen!" Ryce whimpered, like a mother despairing over her baby… though she was soon momentarily distracted. "…Wait, she gets to curse too? What the buddin' gel is that about? Where's the justice?"
"Take it to the people upstairs, Ryce," Robin replied in annoyance.
"But that's just IT, Tim!" Ryce continued, relentless. "Do you want those two lunatics in charge of the food? Might as well order the takeout now!"
"You're in no position to call anyone a lunatic," Robin sighed, pointedly not addressing her other concerns… which he was beginning to share.
"C'moooooooon…" She whined. "Just let me cook. I'll be good. I can't even call them rabbitty ducklings anymore! …See? Case in point."
"…No."
Silence again. Though Tim couldn't see it, he was already picturing the childish, petulant expression in her face, trying to think of a way to somehow trick him into saying yes.
"Do you really want a pony?" her voice chimed, oddly close to his left side. His eyes darted tiredly to find the girl mere inches from his face looking at him and his paper curiously, "I can get you one if y'let me back in my kitchen!"
"Personal. Space. Ryce."
The comment seemed to soar right over her had as it always did, the girl now leaning into him to tug on his arm and whine some more, "Please? Everything s'gonna taste like chalk otherwise!"
Tim grumbled in annoyance, trying to pry the girl's small fingers off of his person and move away from her. His eyes happened to catch the doorway to see Beast Boy and Cyborg sneak quickly past. Odd was perhaps the nicest description the bird-aliased man could think of for the two over the past twenty-four hours. Odd and secretive. His hyper awareness of the world around him had granted him a snippet of Tara and Kory's conversation earlier that morning, his significant other suggesting that their sneaking about having something to do with the shifters present to Terra. But Tim knew better…Garfield did not have this good a poker face when it came to such matters. Something else had to be up and he intended to ask him later.
…that is if he was able to pry the begging teenager from his arm.
"Pleeeeeeeeeease? Pretty please?" Ryce begged pulling on his sleeve and glancing longingly to her stove, "S'my first Christmas and everyone s'doing something but me."
"That would be because everything you touch is instantly destroyed in a fiery ball of chaos," Noel grumbled irritably as he entered the room, Raven at his side.
"You, be nice to me or m'emailing pictures of 'Noel Jr.' out to your stalker," she informed the passing Savior sweetly.
"In case you were unaware, Ryce," Raven supplied in a dead panned tone from beside her, "Threatening to distribute photos of my boyfriend's naked body is not keeping with the holiday spirit."
"Oh, I know I jus' don't care much," the half-angel quipped in faux good cheer before flopping into the chair beside Tim to pout.
"…how 'bout n-"
"That's it," Tim said smiling in a manner that looked more 'ready to bite' than 'happy time grinning' as he stood up from the table, "You're going out in the snow."
With a frightened squeak, Ryce was also up from her chair and across the room, "M'just BORED, Tim! I wanna be part of Christmas and no one will let me do anything!"
"We could always send her to get the 'Totemo Oroka na Omocha' if she is so bored," Raven pointed out as she filled the teapot with water. Ryce stared at her with quiet blankness for a moment, taking in what the demi-demon had just said.
"Totemo Oroka na Omocha?" she asked before Raven nodded.
"Yes…it's some popular toy this season. Would you be willing to go to the store and pick one up along with the rest of the Christmas shopping?" the purple haired Titan asked as excitement spread across her younger friend's face.
"Hai!" Ryce agreed nodding, apparently happy to be of use, before tilting her head to the side, "That's the doll thing right? Does no one notice that it translates into 'Very Stupid Toy?'"
Noel frowned stirring the tea his girlfriend had made him, "I told you to stop going on the internet, Ryce."
"I didn't!"
"Right…I'm sure you just happen to be able to translate Japanese in your head," he grumbled, casting Ryce a dark look. Her lack of listening was starting to rather wear on him…as was the insolent look she was sending in his direction. Mostly, he ignored it as he settled into a chair at the table.
"Nihongo, Doitsugo, Eigo, Futsugo, to Raten ga perapera desu," Ryce informed Noel dryly, taking satisfaction in him choking on his own tea in surprise. With a dark look, she made her way from the room in search of her coat, sure to call over her shoulder as she left, "Watashi wa baka ja nai!"
Noel stared after her looking a bit put out before Raven leaned down and asked, "Do you need me to translate for you?"
"…no…I know exactly what she said," he responded, quickly averting his eyes
A small smile fought to stay off her face as she nodded and took a seat next to him at the table, "Do you really or are you just saying that because you don't like when she makes you feel foolish?"
Noel seemed to consider her question for a moment before nodding and giving a bit of a forced look of pleasantness, "This is very good tea. I might even say excellent tea!"
"Hm…your subtlety at changing the subject is something of wonder, Collins," she said in dry amusement, shaking her head. It was only then that she noticed that Tim had fallen completely silent in the past several minutes. Looking up, the empath found him openly gaping at her.
"…You're sending her to find a toy that has been sold out and rioted over since Thanksgiving."
"Indeed."
"To the mall."
Raven nodded, "It will keep her from making anything else blow up."
Robin still stared on in dawning abject horror, "…You're sending her to find a toy that has been sold out and rioted over since Thanksgiving, to the mall that is filled with-"
"People dressed as Santa Claus," Noel finished, eyes widening a bit as he remember her reaction from several days ago.
"…RYCE!" Tim yelled, taking off after her.
Noel stared at Raven quietly over the rim of his tea cup, "Any reason you just sent a clueless young girl to a mall to be…well…mauled?"
"…I asked her to delete those pictures of you…she refused," Raven said lightly as she took a section of Tim's newspaper and handed the other half to her boyfriend.
"…I love you," he sighed contentedly, settling in to read his paper.
"Soooo…what do you think of this?"
"Hm…looks cool."
"…alright well how about this necklace?"
"…uh-huh…even better…she'll love it…"
Beast Boy glared at Victor in annoyance before looking to where his finger was pointing on the piece of paper he was holding up, "Well that's interesting cause I'm pointing to a plunger."
Movements pausing, the taller of the two looked up from his work to see his friend's unhappy expression. With a sigh, he placed his tools down and snatched the non-hardware store flyer from the changeling's hand so as to look down and see what it contained. It was, in fact, a pretty necklace with its stone encrusted heart pendant hanging off a delicate chain. Victor could not help but raise and eyebrow when he saw the pretty necklace also had a 'pretty' price tag.
"You sure you can afford this, man?" he asked handing the paper back to him.
"It's a sure thing. I saved up the second I saw her eyeing it in the window. I thought I wasn't gonna have enough last week but I went back and saw this," Garfield said tapping the flyer on Cyborg's work station, "Get this…if I go Christmas Eve at seven o'clock exactly, I get twenty percent off…just enough to put it back into my saving range!"
"B, we have to pick up Azrael's package that night," Victor reminded him, "When are you going to have time to do this?"
Beast Boy's response was a laid back wave as he, quite literally, began to lean back, "Don't worry about it, okay? We have the package pick up at six and Christmas Eve Dinner at seven thirty. It's PLENTY of time."
"And if it isn't?"
"Well, then I don't have a present for Tara and I'm four different colors of screwed," Garfield sigh with mocking cheer, "Can you be a little more optimistic for me, please?"
Granting his long time friend a look of sympathy, Victor nodded, "Sorry…it's just a lot of stuff to squeeze into one night. Wouldn't it habe been a better idea to get a back up gift in case?"
With a shake of his head, Garfield folded the piece of paper gently back into a small square to place safely into a back pocket, "I wouldn't have had enough money for the necklace then. When I say I have just enough…I mean I am down to the penny on this," a soft smile made it's way across his face, "I mean…I know she'd NEVER ask me to get her something like this…she might even get angry for me spending this much. But she really liked it, y'know? I wanna give her something special."
Victor nodded and gave his friend a smile as he returned to upgrading and doing maintenance one of his arm cannons. They had to be at full capacity for the day after tomorrow after all.
"You're a good man, Gar."
"Thanks, dude."
"…you are SO screwed if you mess it up though."
"…yuuuuuup."
Ryce…quickly decided that she did not enjoy Christmas shopping in the least.
Looking more akin to an overloaded pack mule than an eighteen year old, she shuffled her miserable way through the Christmas Crunch crowd. In the passing hours she had been, pushed, shoved, knocked, jostled, stepped on, leered at, yelled at, and at one point nearly pushed to tears. In retrospect, she actually did feel a little bad for the last one. All the poor man working for the Salvation Army wanted to do was help her off the ground after she had stumbled.
…the Santa suit, however, rather killed this moment of kindness for her.
Ryce sighed and tried to shift a bag or two off the niche between her waist and hip where a particularly large bag had balanced itself. She supposed she should not complain. After all, Santa suit or no Santa suit, the man beneath in the fake beard had been a – particularly attractive – Liberal Arts major over at the community college. A handsome liberal arts student who wanted nothing more than to make the scare up to her over dinner.
But still…phone numbers were hardly a fair price for all the hostile battering her tiny form was receiving on this trip. For such a supposedly 'giving' holiday that touted 'peace on Earth' and 'Good will to man,' she was finding more often than not…people in the mall were actually even more rude than usual.
With a huffing sigh, she tilted her head upward to see the glowing bright sign of the one of the last few toy stores in the center. Her glasses drooped down the bridge of her nose for a moment, unable to be pushed back up due to her overloaded state. With vain hopes, she shambled onwards into the store, knowing deep down that the answer was going to be the same as it had been the previous thirteen times she had inquired about this silly doll.
Up at the counter, a young man perhaps only a few years older than her was lounging with disinterest. His pock-marked visage, did not even lift to greet her when she finally made it over to him. Straining, she managed to shrug off her baggage and lean up against the counter.
"Pardon me," she said politely, hoping to garner his attention.
What she got was a rather noncommittal grunt.
Frowning at the rudeness, she pressed on, "I was wonderin' if you hand any of these things," and with that she pushed a flyer forward.
Annoyance clear in his face, the twenty-something year old looked away from the book he had been reading and glanced over at her paper. The second he realized what it was she was pointing at his eyes began to dramatically roll in his head. His eyes lifted to finally look her in the face, "You are joking right?"
Her face heated with embarrassment, "Well, I've been to thirteen other stinkin' stores tonight. Toy Shack sent me in this direction."
"That's because the guy at Toy Shack wanted to see if you would walk all the way to the other side of the mall," he replied about to go back to his book.
"Great…that's just lintin' GREAT," Ryce sighed ripping the paper back and shoving it hastily into one of the many other bags. So caught up in her anger and frustration, she did not quite notice the suddenly interested look in the young man's face.
"Hey, you're that maid…the chick who cleans up for the Titans. Reese, right?"
"Um," she started trying to lift a package or two into a more comfortable position, "S'Ryce actually, but aye, tha's me."
His eyes were unreadable for a moment as he stared back at her. And then a smirk began to quirk up on his – heavily chapped – lips, "…so how badly do you want this 'Totemo Oroka na Omocha' doll?"
Eyes snapped open wide behind her glasses, and she all but dropped her remaining bags to the ground again. Instantly, she was leaning back up against the counter, just the barest glimmer of hope in her face, "You have one?"
"Maaaaaybe…" he replied in a quiet sing-song before pulling the toy box baring its picture out from under his counter "As I said…how bad you want it?"
Ryce bent down without another word, riffling quickly through her purse, "How much you want extra? Name your price."
"Don't want money," he quipped, leaning forward to watch her.
But that was not exactly right. He was not so much watching her as he was just a part of her.
Ryce stood once more, cutting off his view as he leaned back into his chair and looked her up and down, "Weeeell, we don't have to play coy. You've seen the tabloids about you…I've seen the tabloids about you. Let's just say you come back here and 'spread a little Christmas cheer' and this doll is yours."
Ryce…just stared.
"…you know…'trim my tree?' 'Have a li'l piece of yule log."
More staring.
"…okay, yeah…you're not very bright. I'll give you the doll if you come back here and give me a blo-"
CRACK!
Ryce would imagine if Noel were here that he would have been oh-so-impressed with the improvement of her left hook…Victor too for that matter.
With a growl of irritation, she stormed behind the counter, not bothering to step over the prostrate clerk. If anything, she enjoyed the pained groan that resulted from her boot heels sinking into him. Rushing in annoyance, she picked up the doll box and opened the top.
Empty.
"…you're an eggnog guzzling', candy cane suckin' runt," she growled, pelting him in the back of the head with the empty box.
She made sure to aim a step for his 'holly berries' as she stormed back out.
Sometimes, Tim Drake really hated his job.
"NOBODY ASKED YOU TO BE HERE, TUBBO!"
"YEAH? THEN I GUESS I MUST HAVE IMAGINED ALL THOSE PEOPLE THE LAST FEW YEARS, PRAISING MY FOOD!"
Robin hesitated on the kitchen entrance, not quite ready to step in. Both women looked very cranky, very downtrodden, and covered in various stains and smells as they glared at each other stubbornly. The kitchen itself looked like a warzone, with bits and pieces not only thrown all over the counter, but curiously enough on the floor too. Scalpel, Robin noted, stood back, watching on with an air of helplessness that you wouldn't expect a war veteran to have.
Meanwhile, the eatable food was only a quarter done at best.
"HAH! MAY-BE. WHO KNOWS IF YOU CAN EVEN HEAR RIGHT WITH ALL THAT FAT CLOGGING YOUR EARS!"
"Um… girls…" Robin tried.
"Do I have to sit on you and feed you again?" Sophie sneered. "Maybe that'll remind you who's the better cook."
"Having the bigger rear doesn't make you better, hun," Terra replied nastily.
Scalpel just kept watching, having decided very early on that things would go a lot faster if he only got involved if things got physical. Which they had.
Twelve times.
Thirteen, as then the mashed potato slapped Terra on the face.
"Ugh…!" the blonde cried, wiping the white gunk off her eyes to glare at her attacker, her hands feeling wildly around for her own weapon.
"Alright, that's enough!" Scalpel shouted, moving in between the girls and smothering a guilty smile. "Sophie, you're better than that," he admonished, "and Tara, you…"
But whatever Scalpel would have said about Terra was lost as the girl moved around the massive alien and flung a pot filled with water at her nemesis, completely drenching her.
"Ok, STOP!" Robin yelled, stepping in finally, and getting their attention. "What is wrong with both of you? You're acting like children!"
This only resulted on them shouting cries of protest and more bickering and blaming.
"Quiet!" Robin cut them off, bewildered. "Were you always like this? Are you two seriously trying to tell me that Ryce was keeping you in check?"
They glared.
"…Well, pretty much," Scalpel confirmed, flinching when that attracted the females' attention. "I mean, come on, Tim. Why are you surprised? How are they acting any different than what they usually do this time of year?"
"Oh you would say that, taking her side!" Terra snapped.
"DON'T talk to him like that," Sophie growled, before rounding on Scalpel, "'Sides, he's not taking my side at all, is he?"
Scalpel cowered under her glare—though soon she turned back to Terra and the bickering began again.
Robin twitched in annoyance, having forgotten of this entirely truthful detail of a time he liked to call the Before Ryce. Now that he thought about it, this was exactly how they acted. He gave Scalpel a tired stare.
The Blacktranian just shrugged, "pack mentality."
"Great," Robin grumbled tiredly. "My questionably-psychotic maid whom I banned from the kitchen happens to be the Alpha female of it. Just…"
"You sick little monkey!" Sophie yelled ridiculously as the girls started pulling each other's hair.
"Ugh, again…?" Robin sighed, moving in.
Just as Terra swung her pan. Sophie avoided it easily, just another day in Kitchen Wars.
Robin, however, got hit straight on the face.
It was a testament to how out of control the situation was that only Scalpel paid mind.
"Tim!" He cried, kneeling next to his leader as the girls kept screaming.
"…Dat's it!" Robin cried, jumping to his feet and holding his nose. He was ignored, and his temper flared. "…OUT!"
That got their attention as they turned to him uncertainly.
"…W-what?" Terra asked uncertainly.
"OUT!" Robin repeated with as much heat, his nose swollen and purpling. "OUT! YOU'RE BANNED! OUT OF DA KI'CHEN!"
"Hah!" Sophie said triumphantly.
"YOU DOO!" Robin snapped.
"Wha…?"
"Bod of you! BANNED! OUT!"
"You can't ju-!"
"Wad me!" Robin snarls, pushing both girls forcefully out the door. "Out! OUT OUT OUT OUT!"
"Tim-!"
"Who's gonna cook?"
"Led me wor'y aboud dat!"
And then he slammed the door on them.
"…This is all your fault."
Which of the girls said that? Do you really care?
It was like a dream. A beautiful dream.
Which was a reasonable assumption, Ryce felt: She slipped somewhere due to her massive cargo and hit her head, and this was all a hallucination brought by what for any other person would be the alarming prospect of her brain bleeding out. Good ol' healing factor.
After all, how else would she explain the Totemo Oroka na Omocha doll she saw before her, perfectly real and ready for pick up… directly under a ceiling light that made it shine like the star of Bethlehem.
On top of an otherwise completely bare, 16-foot tall pyramidal shelf.
…Inside a store called OMFG TOYZ!
…With a chorus of angels playing in the background.
"Will you guys cut it out already?" The pretty, brunette female clerk suddenly snapped, startling Ryce out of her musings, and the nearby choir boys into silence. "You've been singing the same stupid song right outside my shop for the last three hours. THREE. HOURS! Go find somewhere else to sing!"
The group of private schoolers grumbled to themselves as they slunk off to find a new place.
"…Well, that explains of the chorus," Ryce mumbled slowly.
"Yeah, I know," the clerk replied, misunderstanding her. "I wouldn't mind so much if there was some variety, y'know? I'm all for the season and everything, but I don't like things driven into my skull like that."
"…So this is real?"
"…Er…" the clerk—Julia, according to her nametag—blinked owlishly at her question. "Y-yeah… I think so?"
"This store is really called 'OMFG TOYZ!'?" Ryce asked, complete with air-quotes.
Julia seemed to be used to this question as dawning lit up her eyes. "Oooooh, yeah, I see what you mean," she grinned at her, being by far the most friendly worker the blond'd met the entire day. Ryce assumed she was probably high. "Yeah, see, we used to be called Oma's Toys, and it was mum and pop, but about a year ago, business was down and we were bought out by LOLcats Inc., and they changed the name to this."
Ryce thought this made perfect sense.
"Apparently they are very big on their themes," the brunette finished.
"No kidding," Ryce replied. "…Ok, before I let myself get worked up over nothing," she continued, and then pointed, "you do have one of those, right? I'm not seeing things? That's the Totemo Oroka na Omocha doll thing?"
"Oh yeah," Julia nodded easily, resting her face on her hand as she leaned against the counter, "that little Tomato Orca thingie has been all the rage this season. Those Japanese really know how to market things. That one's the last one in the entire store."
"Every store in this blubbly place is out of them, how did that one not get sold yet?"
Julia looked at the doll and then back at Ryce, raising an eyebrow, "It's on the top shelf," she explained simply as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
And it kinda was, Ryce realized: Everybody hates the top shelf.
"…Ok then!" the half-angel said with renewed strength, dumping her cargo. "I'm going in. Can you look after my bags for me?"
"Sure, go right ahead," Julia waved her off, watching as Ryce dived into the absurdly-shaped plastic construct.
She didn't question where the blond girl had pulled that brown fedora from either.
"How goes the menu for Christmas, Sop—Kory?" Cyborg paused as he entered the kitchen, blinking. "Where's Soph? And Tara?"
The orange-skinned girl in question turned towards him, her arms carrying a large bowled filled of some sort of glowing, purple batter that instantly made the man extremely nervous.
"Tim banished them from the kitchen," Starfire said sadly, bating the strange substance absentmindedly. "Because they were being 'screwed up'."
"…Oh," Cyborg said, unable to take his eyes away from it. "So what are w-?"
"Do not fret, friend Victor!" Starfire assured him. "Tim has come up with a most ingenious solution to the problem!"
Cyborg would have said nothing, but she seemed to be waiting for a prompt. "…Oh yeah?" He croaked, "W-what's that?"
"He assigned me to prepare the feast!" Starfire announced with a giddy squeal. "Finally you will be able to partake to exotic Tamarenean cuisine again, after all these years! Oh it is a most joyous, wondrous occasion!" The girl sighed twirling happily in the air.
Cyborg just stared.
And stared.
"…TIM!" The token black Titan suddenly shouted, running off.
Starfire watched him go. "He must be going to congratulate him," she nodded to herself, before a fizzling hiss, like air let out of a tire, caught her attention, and she turned. "Ooooh! The parasites have finished festering on the ook'natlig'n's gums, the rot is just right. My friends will be thrilled!"
Cyborg glared.
Robin stared back impassively.
Glare.
Stare.
Glare.
Stare.
GLARE.
"…Fine…" Robin sighed, rubbing his temples. Looking as if weighted down by chains, he slunk out of the room.
"…Kor? Hun?"
"Aha!" Ryce grinned triumphantly, her hand slapping down on the box. The climb had been hard, and rather epic for some odd reason, but it had been worth it!
That is, until she realized that she hadn't closed her fingers around the box and instead sent the toy tumbling off its pedestals.
"Ack!" the girl cried, diving—perhaps stupidly—off the 16-foot tall shelf to catch the piece of plastic that's certainly worth possible major injury.
In a contrast to her usual luck, she landed hard, but relatively ok, and with the box a couple of inches from her.
Sighing, she grabbed it… just as another hand did too.
"…Of course," she sighed again, not at all surprised, and looked up.
She did a double-take.
Before her stood the most archetypical example of a snooty rich man: Portly, and with a thin salt-and-pepper goatee and black, sleeked back hair over his aged, aristocratic features. He wore a prim, uncomfortable looking dark green suit that followed the oldies theme of his entire attire; complete with white gloves, handkerchief, a bowl-hat, a pocketwatch, a pimpin' cane and an honest-to-God monocle.
Also, a butler. Because that was the only word needed to describe the man standing, very straightly, next to him. He was his butler.
The snooty rich man had yet to even look at Ryce, eyes only for the toy. "This is exactly what dear Gabrielle wanted!" he said triumphantly, picking up the box.
…And Ryce along with it, who refused to let go of it. "Yes, and that's all well and good," the girl grumbled testily, as if she had just taken a twelve-foot-plus fall or something equally silly, "but I found it first and climbed the irrational shelf—with a fedora!" she waved the hat for emphasis, "to get to it, so if you think I'm letting go of it now, you got another thing coming, so if you don't mind letting go, I'll be on my way."
The man blinked, staring at her for several seconds. "…Jervis?" He finally asked, turning to his butler.
"Yes, Master Bridgeton?" Jervis the butler replied.
"Who is this… person?"
Ryce already didn't like him. …Cause he had taken her toy. She was used to this treatment.
"I believe it's a teenager, sire, ragged down from heavy Christmas shopping," Jervis explained smoothly, "likely a teenage mother, trying to get her newborn a gift after her deadbeat horndog of a father left them."
"I see…" Bridgeton frowned, though he didn't. "Well, young lady, this is for my daughter. So… Move along now," he shooed her away.
Ryce's temper flared as she bit the inside of her cheek. "Well, my friend," she put special emphasis on the word, "wants it took, so let go!" She tugged at the box, forcing the man to let go, and then walked away.
"H-hey…!" Bridgeton cried, walking after her: This simply wasn't how negotiations went with him.
"Look, Briggie," Ryce growled, standing before Julia and ringing the toy in. "You're obviously a millionair-"
"Billionaire," Bridgeton corrected immediately, annoyed at her slight.
"Whatever!" Ryce snapped. "The point is, money, you have it. You lost the toy, just throw some money around at people and they'll bring you the honkin' toy!"
"That'll be $35.50," Julia says cheerfully, used to such words during the season.
"I'll pay for it, Miss," Bridgeton said, moving over.
"No, you WON'T," Ryce growls, swiping her card.
"You said to throw money at people."
"NOT. ME."
"I'm throwing it at her," Bridgeton points out, nodding at Julia.
"GET AWAY FROM ME."
"Ok, young lady, I humored you enough, now give me the toy, I don't think you understand just who it is you're talking to, but I have some very powerful friends that would love to make your life unpleasant! Now give me the to-"
CRACK!
"…SHIRT!" Ryce yelped, shaking her hand painfully. "I need to start using the other hand to punch," she whined, blowing on her bloody fist, and giving Jarvis the butler a look. "…What," she growled.
"Oh, no problem, ma'am," Jarvis said quickly, before smiling at Ryce, "You are simply my hero."
Ryce blinked, vaguely flustered, "…oh. T-thanks. I guess."
"Have a nice day," Julia grins, holding up a plastic bag. "Here are your others things," she added, nodding towards the pile of gifts.
"…Does anything phase you?" Ryce had to ask, now picking everything up with practiced strain.
"Well, the mall getting flooded and then being taken hostage by a pair of crazy brothers certainly did," Julia nodded seriously.
"…Right. Well, see ya both. Mind his eye," She added nodding to the downed Bridgeton. Pausing for a second, she reached down and took his monocle. "I'm keeping this," she informed Jarvis. "It's cool."
"As you will, ma'am," Jarvis nodded.
"I should probably tell you we closed seven seconds ago," Julia piped in, looking towards the entrance… as the metal frame slowly slithered down along it.
"Perfect," Ryce grumbled, shifting into a run towards the steadily shrinking light.
"…I was just going to have her go out the back door," Julia muttered as Ryce—and her gifts—slid just barely under the door.
Except for her fedora, which fell off.
Cursing, Ryce reached in and pulled it out in the nick of time.
"Cool!" She cheered. "…I don't know why I did that! …In fact, I question the point of this entire thing."
A murloc angrily ran by and garble-gobbled at the girl, for questioning the will of John.
"…K."
"…So, with Tara, Sophie, Kory and Ryce banned from the kitchen," Robin was saying, trying not to cringe at the way his teammate's eyebrow quirked up at the fact that all the names in that list had been female, "it falls to me to find someone else to cook the feast for us. And I was wondering if it was possible for you to maybe, just, go into the kitchen an-"
Raven slammed the door on his face.
"…Ok," Robin sighed. "You're busy. I understand."
"I just need a little help!"
"I'm sorry, Tim," Cyborg shook his head; "BB and I have to prepare for this… thing."
"…Thing."
"…I will say nothing."
"Vic-"
"Tim, I know all your secrets. …ALL. Your secrets."
"…You're excused."
"Nigel, I'm sure we can do this! Together!" Robin encouraged, putting on his apron.
"I believe in us, Tim!" Scalpel nodded.
"Alright, go team!"
"Yeah! I'll start pickling the bird and preparing the bloodhorn sauce! Where's your debonizer?"
"…This isn't going to work."
"Hi, Honest Tom's catering service?" Robin grumbled irritably, reading off the Yellow Pages. "Yeah, this is Robin, of the Teen Titans… yes, really, look, I don't want to have to prove it again, so can we skip that particular song-and-dance and get to business… …well, yeah, I'm sorry you weren't my first choice, but the name's sorta… …ok, I know. No, I don't… …no, thank you. Can I just—look, I'll speak to your boss about the name later if you will just tell me how much for a Christmas dinner! …Oh. Booked till mid-January, huh? Wow. …Yeah, I understand, thank you. Merry Christmas. …Oh. Sorry. Happy Hanukah. …What? No, I'm not Jewish! Why would you—I am not defensive, there's nothing wrong with being Jewish! No, I—wait—ok, y'know what? Goodbye!"
Robin hung up, groaning and lying flat on his chair. "…Maybe Chinese?"
"Ok, Noel!" Robin said, once again donning apron and cursing every food service in Jump City to the very depths of some very bad place. "Clock's ticking down, what do you say we combine our talents and make this the best Christmas dinner we've eve—GOD no, NO! What am I thinking?" The masked man trailed off, throwing his apron off and taking a moment to consider his recent, most insane brush with death to date. "…I wish I had a drinking problem."
"I was wondering if you'd actually go through with this," Noel muttered, putting his own apron away with a frown: He wasn't that bad.
"Stupid son of a sandwich."
Ryce sat on the inactive fountain edge outside the mall pharmacy, wrapping her bruised knuckles in a bandage. In her tired anger she could not even muster the inclination to berate herself over using not using her left hand. Then again, she supposed that none of it really mattered. A small excited smile began to struggle its valiant way across her face as her eyes turned to the plastic bag sitting by her feet with the words, "OMFG TOYZ!" emblazoned across it. She could see the Totemo Oroka na Omocha doll's packaging through its semi translucency.
She had finally completed her first Christmas task…and nothing had blown up…
A warm, light-headed and oddly giddy feeling began to spread through her. She was finally starting to get the – much less bloody and disturbing – movies and songs that Starfire had coaxed her into watching with her the other night. Excitement over this holiday began to bubble through her, anxious to be shared with someone in particular. She had never been one to be so drawn into silly fictional nonsense, but she was suddenly so sure that these fluffy classics were right. Things worked out… 'God Bless us Everyone' was not pandering nonsense and 'I'll be Home for Christmas,' was not an attempt, but a promise
Before Ryce was even aware of what she was doing, she had scooped up her packages and made her way over to a wintery display several yards away. Without ceremony, she all but dumped her packages onto the ground outside the white fencing and hopped over it. The line of men and women with their small children stretching back gave various cries of protest at her 'line cutting' but she just could not find it in her to care.
Unlike the poorly disguised and young man from the Salvation Army, this gentleman was much older and came equipped with his own snowy beard. A curious smile lit up his face as he tilted his head to the side to watch this older teenager walk up to him. With a manic laugh she threw her arms around the jolly costumed 'Santa.'
"Happy Christmas Santa! S'probably silly…considering I know this isn't actually 'real' and m'bout three times older than everyone in that line…but mind if I ask for something?" she quipped, sure to drop her voice below a certain volume, mindful of the small children standing behind her.
"You're never too old to ask ol' St. Nick for something," he nodded with an understanding smile, eyes twinkling.
Ryce nodded and quickly whispered something into his ear before releasing him from her embrace, "So…what do ya think?"
The Santa seemed to consider her request for a moment, before his smile softened. Nodding his head he looked up at her, "Hm…I hear that one a lot, my dear. I can't make any promises…but I can certainly try."
Ryce nodded, "S'all I ask. Thanks, Santa. Happy Christmas."
With that, she turned back the way she came and hopped back over the fence. The parents were still looking at her oddly, not that she could really blame them. A laugh bubbled up and out of her as she picked up her packages and bags and loaded herself up once more. She had made it several steps along the long line of parents and children when Santa waved her goodbye.
"Merry Christmas to you too, Ryce."
Her steps paused…and her head turned to look back. Had he just called her…
The only warning she got was the surprised and protesting complaint of the young father next to her. It did not even give her enough time to turn back to see the man pushing roughly through the line next to her. All she knew is that one minute she was standing next to the line, looking back at the Mall Santa, and the next she was sprawled out on the ground. A sharp pain rang up through her tailbone from where she had fallen.
CRUNCH.
Above the shouts of protest…above even the harassed sounding yells of the man on the cell phone that had just barreled her over. She heard that single quiet crunch. Struggling, under the weight of her various bags, she finally made it up off of her back to her elbows to look and see what had happened.
"Stupid brainless KID," the middle-aged man on the cell phone yelled at her, "Watch where you're going!"
Ryce knew she should have been more aware of the fact that her gifts and various purchases were strewn all about from the impact. She knew she should have been more aware of the various curses and insults that man – who had knocked HER over – was shouting at her. More importantly than either, she knew she should be more aware of the dull aching her fall had resulted in. But there was only ONE thing she could even see…the sounds of the world dulling out around her.
The man's foot was crushed down over the "OMFG TOYZ!" bag…and tiny doll arm toppled carelessly from the destroyed box.
"Hello! Are you hearing me! Jesus CHRIST, what are you? One of those retards kids from the retard school?" he screamed, "Look what you did! You spilled coffee on my favorite shirt!"
Ryce's eye began to twitch…and her lips…actually her entire face…
She looked up at the man…
At the Tower Kitchen table, the Titans gathered about to help themselves to a warm bowl of soup and grilled cheese, the television murmuring quietly in the background. No better meal on a blustery winter night, after all. The cozy toasty kitchen seemed like a haven when compared to the snow drifting wind gusting past the window above the sink.
Tim sighed contently, enjoying these little moments where he could forget about stupid turkeys and the stupid people that needed to cook them. He picked up the remote to snap the television off, "Anyone mind if we have some peace and quiet?"
The shrugs and indifferent shakes of their heads signaled to the Titan leader that no, in fact, no one would mind. He had gone so far as to lift his arm and point the remote control at the screen when the news caster on screen shifted into a pretty young woman standing outside of the recently refurbished Jump City Mall.
"Tonight, a scene of chaos as the Holiday stress proved too much for one young shopper."
And Tim felt his stomach drop, "Please don't be her."
"Witnesses have stated that the young woman was seen walking with her purchases when a man, indentified as Steven Novak, collided into her, knocking the woman to the ground and both scattering and even stepping on some of her articles.
"One purchase in particular being this," the reporter held up a Totemo Oroka na Omocha package, "This season's 'it' gift, the Totemo Oroka na Omocha doll, no doubt the LAST to be found within the state, which was shattered under Mr. Novak's trampling. When Mr. Novak paused to berate this shopper, the young woman allegedly snapped and transformed into a winged creature. In this fashion, she proceeded to begin beating the man senseless, even going so far as to threaten to sodomize him with an oversized decorative candy cane torn from the 'Meeting with Santa' display."
"... … … …" they all stared at the screen.
"…it could still be another girl that can transform into a winged monstrosity," Garfield tried to sound hopeful.
"And three, two," Rob chuckled, "one."
And then the phone began to ring.
Each Titan seemed to move in a flash of speed, all raising their hands up towards the ceiling with a cry of "Not it!"
All except Noel.
"…really? What are we? Five?" he asked dryly.
"We may be five, but you're still the one picking her up," Terra countered, returning to her soup.
"Tim?" Noel asked.
Robin shrugged, "the rule of It is all powerful."
Noel sighed.
"I can do it," Rob spoke up, dragging everyone's attention. He shrugged. "I don't mind, I just wanted to mess with Noel."
The man in question glowered at him, and opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut-off.
"No, you can't," Robin sighed.
"Huh?" was the simultaneous reply.
"Look, Rob, you're the only one left. You're helping me cook," Robin sighs.
"I note that your interest in cooking coincides with Kory banishing you to the couch," Rob points out. "Connection?"
"The connection is that you're helping me cook now move it," Robin growled testily, dragging the dim blond away grumpily.
"Oh snap, major burn!" Rob cried as he vanished out of sight—and smacked. "Ow!"
Noel sighed, realizing he might as well go pick up the Tower's female resident idiot.
And so about twenty minutes later, Noel found himself pushing open the door to the Jump City Police Department, roughly. Recognition showed in the officers' eyes as he walked through, all observing his expression and careful to keep their greetings to themselves. Blue eyes scanned the faces, before finally finding the one he wanted. The one belonging to the voice on the other end of the phonecall from before.
"Savior," Captain David Stathis greeted with a nod as he made his way towards the meta and away from his desk.
"Where is she?" Noel grumbled.
The tone in the Titan's voice was clear, dark, and full of dark promises for the 'she' he was seeking. Stathis wasted little time, waving the darkly garbed hero over and leading him towards their holding cells several rooms away.
"Try to be fair, son. She's…kinda shaken."
"She's going to be more…because I'm going to 'shake' her until all the stupid falls out," Noel growled, his eyes catching sight of the room he knew the cells to be housed in, "What are the charges?"
"Disorderly conduct."
Noel stopped and stared at the officer, "That's a misdemeanor..."
"Indeed it is," the captain nodded.
"That will probably be thrown out of court."
"The charge often does not stick," Stathis agreed,
"…she beat a man and threatened to rape him with a Christmas decoration."
A shrug was his answer, "Allegedly. Mr. Novak seems to feel he was at fault…doesn't want to press charges."
"And you don't that as see an issue?" Noel asked, before finally noticing something 'off' about the Captain's attire. A suit jacket, tie, dress pants. The meta-human raised an eyebrow at the officer, "You left a Christmas party and came down here to smooth things over for her, didn't you."
"Novak decided against charges before they even got him in the squad car. I'm just keeping things calm and quiet," David nodded, walking towards the cell room door where he paused for a moment to look over to Savior, "But off the record? It didn't sit right with me that the reason my Becky – and God knows how many other little girls – gets to see Christmas was going to be in trouble for giving some thug a taste of his own medicine."
"That's a good way to get yourself in trouble, Captain Stathis."
He smiled wanly at the younger man, "Tell you what, kid. Come back in a few years when you and that pretty girl with the purple hair have one of your own…then, you can tell me that you wouldn't do the same for someone that did what that girl did."
Without waiting for an answer, Captain Stathis pushed the door open and strolled into the bar filled room. Several of the cells were already house what appeared to mostly be a few men and women who over indulged in the holiday 'spirits.' Novak, however, stood out amongst them greatly with his torn clothing, bloody cotton stuffed nose, and in general beat to all hell appearance. Noel could see he was apparently crying as Stathis gave him a winning smile.
"How's your face feeling, Novak? You're not crying over a little girl beating you up are you?"
"No dir," he sniffled.
All David could do was allow his smile to soften as he moved to the cell over, "You okay in there, kiddo?"
Noel came up beside him to look in and find it empty, sans one individual. The individual he was here to pick up, in fact. Ryce did not respond to either of their presences, eyes staring out vacantly through her bent and lens-cracked glassed out into the ether. A nest of tinsel was tangled so intrinsically into her hair that it almost seemed to grow right out of her scalp. Every so often, the corner of her mouth gave a little tick.
"Ryce?" Noel asked cautiously.
Finally, she seemed to hear him, turning her head in his direction and tilting it to the side, "…there are five lights in here."
Blank stares went back to meet her own, before Captain Stathis gave a sigh and began to unlock the door, "Um…yea…she's been like this since we got her back. You might want to address that."
With the creaking of her cell, Ryce stood from her chair shakily and walked over to the two men. Slowly, she turned her head again to look up at Noel, "…I would like to no longer do the Christmas shopping, please."
"I…think that's fine, Ryce," he reassured her, grabbing her shoulder gently to lead her out of the room and towards the T-Car waiting outside. They managed a few paces before they were once again in front of Steven Novak, who was looking at Ryce with wide terrified eyes.
"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn…Cthulhu kngu gt'wan suggoth wu'enh pfchun tgan," Ryce said in a perfectly quiet and calm tone, not so much as turning her head to look at the beaten man as they passed him.
Noel cringed away from her slightly as he looked down in quasi-fear, "What did you just tell him?"
"…Merry Christmas…" she lied in a queerly flat voice before looking up to Noel to smile...at least he thought it was a smile.
Noel just shoved her forward and out the door without another word.
The two trudged through the drifting snow in silence before climbing into the driver and passenger side seats of the warm idling vehicle. Once inside, Ryce was able to see the back seat stuffed beyond sight with the gifts and purchases the police had held onto for them. A top of this mountain laid the crushed "OMFG TOYZ!" bag, almost like the star of a Christmas tree composed entirely of gifts.
Ryce stared at it…
…and then burst into tears.
"…Can't this wait until we're home," Noel sighed and put the car into gear as he mumbled too low for her to hear, "when Rob, Nigel and Star can deal with it."
"I j-jus' wanted t-t-to help," she sobbed.
"I know, Ryce…but you can't…"
"NO! All I w-wanted t'do..*snnf*….was…was COOK. I did a-all the r-research for holiday COOKIN' cause t'other stuff confused me," she hiccupped, her eyes wide and a bit scary behind her broken glasses. Noel cringed and tried to focus on the road as the hysterics began to creep into her hyperventilating voice, "But NO…Ryce can't cook…cause t'only thin' she's not uncomfortable wit' up-upsets a r-retarded fish man. Ryce has t-to go get t'crap kicked out'a her for a numb-chuckin' DOLL! I want my kitchen and my knives and my food and I – there's tinsel in my eye and some li'l kid stuck a candy cane in my hair aft'a his baby sister sicked up on me in line and then some guy asked me t'suck his yule log for a doll that he did'n even have b'fore that man knocked me down and broke the chestnut lovin' doll and I WANT MY KITCHEN!"
"RYCE!" Tim bellowed as they came into the tower, stalking up to the young maid. A strange, white substance was dripping down his hair.
Noel sighed, though there was some protectiveness on his stance. "Tim, wait. Maybe we shou-"
"You're going back to the kitchen!" Tim said over Noel, his voice brimming with authority.
Silence.
"Huh?" Both said dumbly.
"Kitchen! You!" Tim snarled, pushing Ryce ahead. "You're going to go back to that land of the Lost, do what you can, and make dinner, and you're not getting out until you're done! Got it?"
Ryce stared blankly at him.
"You know what?" Robin pressed on, "It doesn't matter if you get it! You know why? 'Cause I say so! I'm the leader! My word is law! So there! You're stuck on kitchen duty and babysitting those other banshees 'till the end of time itself! HAH! What do yo-?"
But whatever else he would have said was drowned out when Ryce lunged herself at his frame, hugging him with surprising strength for such a small person.
"…Yeah…" Robin muttered weakly. "Take that."
Ryce sniffled into his shirt and then reached up, kissing his cheek. "…Thank you," she whispered gently, before rushing off to the kitchen.
Seconds later, Rob was violently thrown out the door, looking utterly confused as the young British woman climbed up on the counter to hug the toaster oven, a cast iron pan tucked under her one arm like a child's teddy bear.
Tim turned to find Noel grinning at him. "…I'm a firm, but fair leader who stands by his decisions!" he whined.
"I'm sure you are."