Hello again everyone! You guys rock so much with your reviews! So here's a nice big chapter for you all.

To clear up any confusion about Robin's age, basically, unless I jump back in time for a flashback scene, she's 15 in this. Eventually she'll age up to 16, but for right now, she's 15. Sorry if there's been any confusion. ^^;

Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, don't sue me.


.

Chapter Four

It was a little over two years that they had been a team. Two years of missions and crime fighting and growing closer together as teammates, with Wally's souvenir room gradually getting more and more full, and Superboy finally getting his name, Conner or Kon-El, though she still sometimes called him Superboy or Supey even during downtime, they all did. It was a tough habit to break after coming to know him as Superboy for so long, but Kon didn't seem to mind, so no harm done really.

Two years.

It wasn't that long, but at times, it sure felt like it.

She always kind of thought, to be perfectly honest, that her big gender secret would have been exposed by this point. After all, M'gann was a telepath, had even read Ricki's mind on more than one occasion, so you'd think that with a mind reader on the team, hiding something as big as her actually being a girl would be pretty much impossible.

After that first day though way back when, M'gann had always been very respectful about not digging into any of their minds or their innermost thoughts. When you add that to all the training Batman's given her on not letting unwanted thoughts float to the surface where they're easier to read, Ricki guessed that it wasn't too big of a surprise that her secret stayed a secret.

Ricki supposed that she was thankful for this fact because she had no idea what she'd do with herself if her team ever found out. She had been keeping this secret for so long now, and the thought of telling them did not fill her with warm, fuzzy feelings.

But there were times when she liked to pretend...

Pretend that maybe her life was a bit more normal than it actually was, that there was no big gender secret and that she could be like any other sort of girl that there was out there. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate her life and everything that Bruce had done for her, she just sometimes liked to step out of the boys shoes and put on a pair of heels instead.

It was Alfred who had started the whole thing in the first place. Shortly after her job as Robin began, and it became apparent that the 'boy lie' was there to stay, Alfred had been very insistent that it was only healthy that she be given the opportunity to be the girl that she truly is, which meant being able to dress up in dresses and get her hair or nails done, or do whatever else her young female mind could think up, if she so chose to do so.

She had never really been that kind of little girl though, and as far as she knew, those few dresses Alfred had insisted Bruce get for her had remained lost in a closet somewhere collecting dust. Imagine her surprise when, shortly after joining Young Justice, she had finally taken Alfred up on his offer to dress up to have tea somewhere and the elder man had shown her to a closet in one of the guest rooms that had a few dresses that were actually in her size, just in case she ever felt the need to girl-it-up a bit.

Despite sometimes looking at dresses online, or subtly noting the various dresses that she saw some women wearing around town and in passing, she hadn't actually worn a dress herself, not since her parents had died; not even during the few times that she was Riley Pennyworth. She had been a little skeptical at the time, looking through the few dresses hanging up in the closet, and had figured that her original dislike for them when she was younger was still there, even though she found herself thinking more and more about how pretty some dresses were.

But then, putting on one of those dresses for the first time, she'd had a shocking moment of 'Holy crap, I look like a girl.' And not only did she look like a girl, she was... pretty – kind of? Her stomach had twisted up doubtfully and she had wrung her hands together, unsure. She certainly didn't think she looked boyish... anymore, but if she was pretty, even a little, then why was it so easy for everyone to see her as a guy? So maybe not 'pretty' then... maybe...

Either way, she had been surprised to find that she liked it, wearing a dress, and liked the way it looked on her – how it actually showed that she did have a bit of a figure, and the long black-haired wig she sometimes wore when she was Riley completed the image (the point of the wig being to throw people off who could actually recognize Richard Grayson in passing, because without the wig, she still looked far too much like Bruce Wayne's young male ward)

It wasn't exactly her scene, going out somewhere fancy for tea and a light lunch, and the dresses Alfred had picked out for her weren't really a style she liked that much either. There were sleeves and the collar was too high up. It was all very... reserved, and she couldn't help but feel like she was being dressed up to go to church on Easter.

A dress was a dress though, even if she sometimes felt the urge to take a pair of scissors to it and make it more modern, more pretty and showing more skin, like the dresses she had admired in the past.

Despite the fact that going out somewhere fancy for tea wasn't her first choice when it came to expressing her feminine side, it was still pretty nice – relaxing even – a step away from the norm, at least for her. It became something her and Alfred did every couple of months, going out for tea and brunch, or lunch, or whatever mealtime it was – where she could dress up pretty and relax and just be a girl.

And while she'd never let Alfred or Bruce know this, there was also the added bonus of sometimes catching a boy looking at her in a way they'd never normally look at her while she was Robin or Ricky with a 'y.'

Leaning in close to the full-length mirror in her room, she puckered her lips before frowning. She felt like she should be wearing makeup, just a little bit at least to complete the feminine image, but Bruce always said she was too young to be wearing makeup and whenever she brought it up around Alfred, the elder man would simply say that she didn't need it; something about 'natural beauty,' she didn't really know.

Stepping back from the mirror, she adjusted her wig. Running her fingers through the long black hair that came just a little bit down past her shoulders, she wondered not for the first time if this was what she would look like if she let her hair grow out.

She twirled in place, watching the dress fan out around her before settling, the hem reaching just a little bit past her knees. Folding her hands behind her back, she puffed her chest out because she didn't get to see herself in clothes that were actually made for someone with a chest nearly as much as she would have liked, and it was also a nice reminder that, yes, that's right, she wasn't as flat chested as everyone thought. There was actually something there.

Swinging her arms back and forth, her posture slumped back to something more normal and she looked down, stretching one leg out as she thought, 'Wally better not give me any crap about shaving my legs.'

Not that her teammates ever really saw her legs bare on a regular basis, but if the situation ever came up, well, she may just end up having to give Mr. West a good punch in the shoulder.

Her attention was drawn to a knocking at her bedroom door which was shortly followed by Alfred's voice calling to her, "Miss Richard, are you almost ready to go?"

"Yeah, in a second," she called back.

Abandoning her preening in front of the mirror, she waked over to where her shoes rested. Using the room's bed for support, she slipped the pair of medium-heeled shoes on before walking over and opening the door for the elder man.

"Alright, let's go," she said, a smile on her face.

"Your purse, Miss Richard," Alfred inquired, always the calm, collected one.

"Huh?" she said with a curious blink before she remembered, "Oh right, that thing."

Trotting back into the room, she grabbed the small purse off the bed. It didn't really contain much aside from her cellphone, a credit card in 'Riley's' name, and a little container of pepper spray, but her dress didn't exactly have any pockets, so it got the job done.

Now finally all ready, she followed Alfred out of the manor, both of them grabbing a light jacket on the way out. They took one of Bruce's cars out into Gotham, which – although granted, was still a nice car – wasn't nearly as conspicuous as a limo, and anyway, she didn't like the idea of Alfred driving her around in a limo in the first place, and she especially didn't like him driving her around in a limo when they went out on these little outings together. The elder man was like a grandfather to her, not a chauffeur.

"It's too bad Bruce couldn't come," she remarked, slouching in the passenger's seat, watching the scenery passing by.

"Yes, rather unfortunate," Alfred said. "You know how busy he is though."

Between being Bruce Wayne and being Batman, yeah, she got it, and she also understood that the public would find it odd for Bruce to be attending what essentially appeared to be a family outing between Alfred and his niece, and without Richard Grayson along for the little get-together too. The public was always watching, after all, and always reporting on the going-ons of Bruce's life. Quite frankly, Ricki was of the opinion that any nosy gossipers could suck it, but Bruce liked to be a bit more careful than that; liked to control whatever sort of 'odd' thing it was that the media was reporting about him.

"Chin up, Miss Richard," Alfred said, sensing where her thoughts were leading her mood, "Today is meant to be relaxing and stress-free."

With the way their lives were, a stress-free day was sometimes hard to come by. She straightened up in her seat, absentmindedly twirling a finger through long locks of dark hair as she looked over at Alfred and asked, "Where are we going anyway?"

"The Moonshadow Café," Alfred said. "I recall you saying that you liked their sandwiches."

A grin spread across her face. She was always surprised by how Alfred could somehow remember all the little things both her and Bruce said, even small insignificant details they might say in passing. She hardly even remembered the Moonshadow Café herself until Alfred brought it up, and yes, their sandwiches were quite awesome.

The Moonshadow Café was a quaint place known for its good food and tea, where people frequently went in between seeing shows due to the café's close location to the Gotham Opera House, so consequently, the dress code tended to be on the fancy side. It was the perfect sort of place to go to when one bothered to get dressed up nice.

Pulling up next to the little valet podium set up in front of the café, Alfred got out and opened her door for her (because he was stubbornly insistent about being a gentleman) before handing the car keys over to the valet worker as they headed inside. Alfred had called ahead and made reservations, so it hadn't taken very long at all before they were seated.

Sadly, there were no boys even close to being around her age there, neither among the patrons or the waitstaff, so that meant zero chance of someone making eyes at her (in a way that wasn't totally creepy because all of the people there were old enough to be her parents or grandparents). She supposed it was for the best though. One less distraction–

–distractions such as her phone vibrating in her purse, which was pressed up against her foot, and she could tell from the pattern of the vibrating that it was a text message. She had only silenced her phone, not turned it off, because she hadn't thought that it would have been a problem. Yet here she was now, sitting in a nice restaurant, trying to focus on her tea and her meal and her conversation with Alfred, but she couldn't because her phone kept going off every couple of minutes, buzzing against her foot, and she couldn't help but feel curious about what all the texts could possibly say.

"Is there a problem?" Alfred asked, a single composed eyebrow raised, clearly aware that her attention was divided.

"No, no problem," she said with a slightly forced smile, and lightly kicked her purse over so that it wasn't leaning against her foot anymore.

After all, Alfred found manners to be very important, and she had a feeling that the elder man wouldn't approve of her having her cellphone on in the restaurant, and no amount of excuses about needing it on in case of an emergency would be accepted by the man as being a valid reason because they both carried around a small separate device that was used for that exact reason.

Her purse and that damned distracting cellphone now away from her, she thought that would have been the end of it, but not even five minutes later, her phone went off again and this time she could actually hear it buzzing through the fabric of her purse and against the wood floor, and if she could hear it, then Alfred –

She had to hold back a wince when Alfred's gaze met her's, the elder man not saying a thing and yet she could practically hear what he was saying from his bland expression, a dry inquiry of, "Your cellphone beckons you, Miss Richard, will you answer it, or shall I?"

"Uhh... be right back!" she said, scrambling out of her chair in a very unladylike manner and snatching her purse out from under the table – knocking it over in the process, spilling out its contents, and floundering at shoving everything back in. She rose back to her feet in kind of a half-backwards spring and made a couple of random gestures over her shoulder as she said, "Er, restroom. Yeah! Back in a sec."

Then she turned and speed-walked off in the direction of the bathrooms, giving her purse a wide-eyed 'what-the-hell?' look and wondering who in the world kept texting her and what could possibly be so important?

Reaching the relative safety of the lady's room, which was actually quite nice for a public restroom, she pulled out her phone and flipped it open, seeing a message that told her she had fifteen new text messages.

And they were all from Wally.

She let out a long suffering sigh. Of course it was Wally, he texted in super-speed. Anyone else would have had the patience to wait more than just a few minutes in between sending a million different texts.

Frowning, she scrolled through the messages.

~Hey Rob?

~Dude?

~U there?

~Im in Gotham

~Uncl B has business w/ ur boss

She skimmed past several more texts that basically asked the same thing, where she was and if she wanted to meet up somewhere. Then there was the last text, which seemed a little random.

~Nvm. Giant robot. C u there.

And before she could even really wonder about that, the building shuddered around her, mirrors rattling against the walls. Through the restroom doors, she could hear the other restaurant patrons burst into conversation – all of them talking over each other, yet none of them sounding really too distressed. This was Gotham, after all, and all the locals were pretty well desensitized to the chaotic going-ons of the city.

When the walls shuddered for a second time, a dull but loud booming noise sounding off somewhere in the distance, she reacted instinctively. Leaving her purse behind in the bathroom, she bolted through the restaurant, heading straight for the doors, nevermind the fact that she was wearing a dress and heels that weren't all that practical.

She reached the front entrance just in time to see a giant robot foot stomp down onto the street, shattering pavement like glass, before lifting up and away. She had to look up, up, up just to see all of the massive steel beast and she could already tell that it wasn't something that had ever made an appearance in Gotham before, which was likely why KF and his uncle had shown up. But then, it wasn't one of Central City's foes either, and while the Justice League had faced a lot of massive robot adversaries in the past, this wasn't one of them.

'Likely a new baddie,' she guessed.

As the large robot lumbered down the street and away from the Moonshadow Café, she darted out the front doors, pressing a hand to where her utility belt rested low on her hips underneath her dress.

'Never leave home without it.'

The red blur of the Flash shot by in hot pursuit of the robot, kicking up a wind in his wake that blew long locks of dark hair into her vision, and as her dress fluttered against her bare legs, it finally occurred to her that, damnit, this wasn't going to work because she didn't have anything to change into, and even if she took the heels off, she couldn't exactly go charging into battle in a dress like this, not without blowing a variety or different secrets.

'Maybe there's a spare uniform in the car.'

It was her best bet, because there was no way she could just sit around and do nothing while KF, the Flash, and Batman (who she knew without a doubt was around somewhere and likely just sticking to the shadows until he made his move) faced off against some giant robot that was rampaging around Gotham.

She turned to leave, but she only got a few quick steps away from the front entrance of the café before she caught sight of a yellow and red blur, Kid Flash, out of the corner of her eye not even a full second before he collided with her, but rather than the both of them getting knocked down, KF caught her around the waist. He picked her up from the ground, and her fingers dug into his uniform like claws as he spun the both of them around, the world nothing but a blur of colors before her eyes, and skidded to a stumbling stop.

As apologies fell past Kid Flash's lips too fast for her to follow, he quickly set her back down on the ground and let go of her as if she might just tazer him. The thought may have crossed her mind had she not been so frazzled and dizzy from the sudden movement and completely lost her balance, stumbling backwards because, shit, heels, heels!

The unintelligible run-on sentence apologies stopped quick and in an instant, KF was by her side again, hands around her waist as he steadied her. Half-leaning against her friend, who was being unusually silent, she looked up through the long strands of hair that hung in her eyes, a ruffled, wind-whipped look about her (and she was quite thankful that the wig stayed securely on her head throughout all of that). She saw him looking down at her with this odd, blank expression on his face.

Ricki pulled one hand away from where it had been clutching on to his upper arm, and was about to smack him on the chest and snap something about him doing that on purpose because, well, that's what she normally would have done in this situation.

–but then KF's mouth quirked up in this sheepish, apologetic smile as he said, with complete sincerity, "So sorry about that, beautiful. Didn't mean to startle you."

That corny use of 'beautiful,' a term of endearment she had heard him say, among others, to all sorts of different girls in the past; for some reason it gave her pause. She didn't quite understand it, because she had always kind of found it to be cheesy, something to later roll her eyes at. She'd never once had him use such a term on her though, and in that tone of voice... but that shouldn't matter, should it? It was still overly cheesy, still eye-roll-worthy, and... and anyway, KF was her best friend. Just her best friend.

Yet for some reason, her lips were pulling up into this small half-smile, and when that faded, it was only because she was suddenly very much aware of the fact that KF still had his hands wrapped around her waist.

A booming noise from the giant robot echoed in the distance, and KF's hands dropped away from her. The warmth still lingered though, along with the memory of the pressure of his hands, and she could feel the blood rushing to her face.

"Gotta run. Hero stuff and all that," KF said, still smiling at her. "You gonna be alright?"

She nodded numbly, not saying a word, and in the next instance, KF was gone, a yellow and red blur disappearing into the city.

Staring in the direction he had disappeared to, she felt a fluttering in her stomach that didn't belong there, and all she could really think was, 'What the crap was that?'

When the crime-fighting part of her brain finally kicked in, the part that could push aside all distracting thoughts that didn't have anything to do with the crime she actually had to take care of, it was around that time that Alfred showed up, practically appearing behind her like a ninja as he rested one hand on her shoulder.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"Didn't you see the giant robot?" she asked incredulously, giving him a wide-eyed look.

"Yes," Alfred said. "And I believe Batman and his visitors have everything under control. Wouldn't you agree?"

Her arms hung by her sides like limp noodles as she slouched dejectedly and gave him her best pout, "But–"

"Now, now," Alfred said, apparently unmoved by her pouting. "Gotham and its protectors have faced a lot worse than this. I don't see why we can't enjoy the rest of our day."

She tossed an unsure look over her shoulder, off in the direction that the robot had gone.

"Nothing to worry about, I assure you," Alfred said.

"I guess..."

"I would be more than happy to remain out here and discuss that charming fellow who nearly flattened you, if you would prefer," Alfred said, an amused twinkle in his eyes on his otherwise completely composed face. He of course knew exactly who KF was, so he was obviously messing with her.

"Or," he continued. "We could go back inside and finish our meal."

She darted back inside without another word.

.


.

Ricki had thought that that would be the end of it, of the gooey fluttery feeling, that it had simply been a fluke, and maybe her stomach had just been upset by what she ate, but then the fluttering came back for a second time, and a third time, and even more times after that. And every single time, it was when Wally was there, when Wally was close by.

She didn't know what the hell that flutter in her stomach was playing at, but she'd come to the quick conclusion that the flutter was evil, even if it brought about warm, happy feelings that she admittedly kind of liked. It was definitely evil though. It twisted her stomach into knots, it set her nerves on edge, and it was beginning to make things feel really, really awkward when she was around Wally.

It was like a brand new villain, and as such, she treated it like one, but since she couldn't actually physically fight it like she normally would a villain, she did the next best thing by pushing it back and locking it away in her mind's own little version of Arkham Asylum. She left it there and ignored it to the best of her ability.

Except... the damn thing ended up being more like the rogues of Gotham than she would have liked and somehow ended up making frequent prison breaks. Always when Wally was around, there was a chance of the flutter showing up, as if Wally's presence gave the flutter its strength. The closer Wally was, the more likely of a chance there was of the flutter coming to torment her, and if Wally touched her–

...That sounded dirty when she didn't mean it to be, and she could practically hear the flutter cackling behind its proverbial prison bars.

It was always in a purely platonic way, which was of course what she meant.

She had never really noticed before though just how much Wally touched her. A hug, a one-armed hug, ruffling her hair, a high-five, a hand on her shoulder, draping an arm over her shoulders, nudging her in the side with his elbow, leaning up against her, grabbing her by the wrist or by the hand – apparently Wally was a touchy-feely person and she had just never noticed until that stupid fluttery feeling showed up.

Or maybe Wally was acting completely normal for someone who was her friend, and she was just making this into something that was fluttery-feeling-worthy when it really wasn't, because this was Wally she was talking about, who she had never once had fluttery feelings about before.

Wally, who she'd once had a contest with on seeing who could burp the alphabet better. Wally, who she'd had prank wars with in the past, who was her video game companion, by her side in those virtual worlds shooting down virtual zombies and laughing as they both shouted and swore at the game they were playing.

...Wally, who always had her back, both during missions and outside of missions when they were dressed in civvies, who was always there for her...

But no, he was– he was her bro, a good friend, her best friend, and only that. Getting fluttery feelings about him would ruin everything. Wally thought she was a boy, and telling him or anyone else on the team otherwise wasn't part of the plan in any near future. If anything, he might think that she was gay, and that would just complicate things even more than they already were.

'Damn it, everything was going fine until he called me 'beautiful' and acted all... all... how he acts around practically every girl!'

And the fact that he acted that way around her? ...Well, it didn't really matter anyway, did it? Not unless she actually wanted to fuck everything up, which she didn't.

So... no, the fluttery feelings weren't acceptable at all. They threatened to mess with her awesome friendship with Wally and she just couldn't let that happen. She would just have to keep locking them away, keep pushing them back and ignoring them. She was sure that they would eventually fade away and disappear, just like all those years ago with Speedy... er, Red Arrow, though he had been Speedy at the time.

She'd thought that she was over stupid girly crushes – because that's all that this was, she was sure – but apparently not (and the fact that this was just a crush was another reason why she had to squash this flutter down, because for her, crushes never stuck around, so why even attempt to mess with the dynamics of her friendship with Wally for something that would just fade away in the end?).

She could do this though, she could control the fluttery feelings, and do just as good on missions and working with her team as she had been before. She hadn't been trained by Batman for nothing, after all.

"Kid Flash and Robin, you're up next," Black Canary said, breaking Ricki out of her musings and gesturing to the sparring circle where M'gann and Kaldur had just finished their match.

'Oh crap,' was her first thought before she backpedaled with a couple quick assurances of, 'No, no, it's fine. It's just a sparring match, and I've faced off with KF plenty of times in the past. This match is no different from the others. I just need to focus.'

Wally stood across from her on the sparring circle, grinning with his goggles pulled down over his eyes, and she stood there feeling more tense than she'd ever felt in a training exercise like this before.

"Begin," Black Canary said.

When it came to fighting her friends, there was a different strategy for each of them that took their strengths and weaknesses into account. With Wally, it would be pointless to attempt running after him. He was just too fast, so her plan was to let him come to her and get him that way, and if he took on a more defensive role, then she would have to try predicting his movements and intercept him instead. Of course, this strategy applied mostly to these sparring matches; had they been out on the field, she had a variety of things in her belt that could be used against the speedster.

In the case of this match in particular, Wally went on the offensive, becoming a blur of color that shot straight towards her. She was quick to dodge, and then flipped out of the way when he changed direction to try and catch her. Matches between the two of them tended to go this way, with a lot of dodging and quick strikes and blocking. They were both swift fighters, both fast on their feet, and while Wally was much faster, she tended to be more lithe, more able to slip her way out of restraining situations like choke-holds and traps.

She blocked Wally's punch and he blocked her responding strike before zipping out of the way of her kick, and then suddenly he was behind her, shooting straight for her. His arms wrapped around her middle, and usually in this situation, she would have twisted, would have arched away and struck back at him and slipped her way out of his hold, but instead her mind stalled out on her like an old car. The only thing that she could really think about, the only thing that she could focus on, was the feeling of Wally's arms wrapped around her, the feeling of his hands splayed against her waist, and his chest pressed up against her back.

Her stomach did flip-flops as her movements faltered, and in the next instant, her feet were kicked out from under her and she was slammed against the ground; the status of 'fail' that displayed on the floor next to her holding more than just one meaning in her mind. Overall, it was a pretty effective way of bringing her back to reality.

Wally hovered over her, a guilty flicker in his eyes, and she suspected that he probably hadn't meant to knock her down so hard, because usually in a move like that, she would have put up more of a fight. Hell, she would have actually fought against him, not become completely pliant.

Wally's lips pulled up into an uneasy smile as he held out his hand, asking, "You alright dude?"

"Yeah, fine," Ricki said as she sat up, holding back a wince that would likely make him feel more guilty. It wasn't Wally's fault that she had been distracted, and it wasn't the speedster's fault that he happened to be the distraction.

The flutter quivered briefly in her stomach as she took the offered hand and Wally helped her to her feet. She had a brief, furious moment of mentally arguing with herself and any crush-like feelings to just stop it, that it was Wally, just Wally, and that she, or the flutter rather, was being ridiculous and needed to get a grip.

Squash it down, she just needed to squash the feelings down and smother them and lock them away where they'll wither away to nothing.

Ricki sighed quietly – fighting with herself was more exhausting than fighting Wally – and she forced herself to focus on the comments Black Canary was making on her and Wally's match. She was only too happy when the lesson finally ended and she could retreat to her room in Mount Justice to wash away all the sweat and attempt to collect her thoughts, which were beginning to drive her crazy.

A nice hot shower. That's all that she needed at this point, just something to take her mind off of... everything.

'Maybe a cold shower would be more fitting.'

She slipped off her boots, taking off her cape and dropping it in a heap by the doorway as the door to her bedroom slid shut behind her. Pulling off her gloves and tossing them onto her bed, she grabbed a change of some of her civvie clothes out of the pull-out drawer that was under her bed before heading into the small bathroom attached to her room.

Originally, the only showers in Mount Justice had been in the locker rooms, but as part of the renovations, Batman made sure to have bathrooms added on to a number of the bedrooms. Later when her and her teammates were all calling dibs on bedrooms, they were all sure to get one that had one of the newly built bathrooms because no one actually liked having to share a bathroom with a bunch of other people, and if given a choice between using a public locker room or having your own personal bathroom, well, that was pretty much a no-brainer.

She swung the bathroom door closed and automatically pushed in the lock button on the door knob – pretty old-fashioned when you consider the entrance to the mountain, the automatic sliding doors, and all the computerized locks that were scattered about the base.

Bare feet padding against the cold tile floor to the bathtub-slash-shower, Ricki peeled off the remainders of her sweaty Robin uniform, setting her utility belt on the sink counter and leaving the rest where it fell. She turned on the bathtub faucet before switching the shower head on and then set about the task of removing the bindings around her chest.

"Oh sweet freedom," she breathed out, dropping the bandages on the ground before shucking off her boxer shorts and slipping past the shower curtain into the spray of hot water.

For a while, she just stood under the running water with her eyes closed and her hands resting against the back of her neck, trying to keep her mind clear and only focus on the massaging feeling of the shower, but despite her attempts, it kept flitting back to her. Her sparring match with Wally, the speedster's arms wrapped around her, the feeling of him pressed up against her back.

And that brought up other memories of recent, similar occurrences. Wally grabbing her hand and dragging her off somewhere because, 'Dude, come on, you've gotta see this!' Wally leaning up against her, arm draped over her shoulders, and giving her a knowing grin – because he'd thought that she had been checking out a girl at the mall when she'd actually been admiring the girl's dress and the fact that she wanted it. Wally sitting down on the couch next to her during movie night, his leg pressed against her leg and then later when he nudged her in the side and leaned close to whisper, 'This is the best part.'

All of these memories and so many others like it, never before had it been something she'd really ever thought about and now she couldn't get it out of her head, and they all led back to the sparring match, to how close he had been during the sparring match, even if it had only been for a few short seconds. She found herself smiling a little, and pressing her hands against the sides of her waist where his hands had been.

"Oh my god, this is so inappropriate!" she said, eyes snapping open, warm fuzzy feelings crumbling into dust.

Ricki grimaced, pressing her palms against her forehead, fingers tangling into wet hair, and leaned sideways against the tiled wall muttering a chant of, "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

She sighed, pushing her wet bangs back before reaching down for the shampoo bottle, at this point just wanting to get her shower over and done with. Girly, crush-like thoughts of Wally kind of put a weird spin on the whole thing.

Frowning, she squeezed some shampoo into her palm, and as she set the bottle back down onto the edge of the bathtub, she must have set it down with more force than she meant to because a glob of shampoo shot out of the bottle and hit her directly in the eyes. It happened quicker than she could even process, and for half a second she stood frozen, half-hunched over in a horrified silence – her hand still wrapped around the shampoo bottle – before it all caught up to her and she reared back, sucked in a breath, and screamed.

Trained by Batman or not, getting a large quantity of soap squirted into your eyes fucking hurts, and she'd squirt soap into the eyes of anyone who says otherwise.

Shaking out the hand that she had previously squeezed some shampoo into, and smearing any remaining shampoo clinging to her palm against the wall, her other hand flailed out, reaching for the shower head. As Ricki twisted around in place to face the running water, screaming and shouting a series of expletives that would make a sailor proud, she must have moved too quickly because her feet suddenly slid out from under her on the slick bathtub floor.

Ricki reached out blindly as she fell sideways, trying to grab hold of something to regain her balance, but the only thing around to grab was the shower curtain. Faced against the force of her falling, the plastic curtain ripped free from its hooks, becoming more of a hindrance than anything as it tangled around her and prevented her from even being able to fully reach out with both hands to at least catch herself as she fell.

She hit the tiled floor outside of the bathtub with a dull thud, landing on her back with her feet up over the lip of the tub, and just lay there for a moment, coughing from the wind being knocked out of her. Wincing, she pulled her feet down to the ground with the rest of her, twisting so that she was laying on her side, and curled her legs up against her chest, pressing her one non-soapy hand against her eyes as tears ran down her face. She didn't make any move to get up quite yet; just took a moment to lay there as a low, miserable cry tore its way out of her throat.

She wasn't sure what hurt most, the fall or the shampoo in her eyes.

That's when the door to her bathroom was kicked open, splintering the wood of the door frame.

Her eyes shot open despite the burning soapiness and she stared up at the blurry figure before her.

It was Superboy – Conner – standing in the doorway and looking ready for a battle.

Her crying cut off jaggedly in her throat – because crap, so not asterousand Conner's gaze snapped down to her, his look of battle-ready anger transforming to one of shock. The shower curtain may be covering her – she had never been more thankful that the thing wasn't clear – and it wasn't exactly like she had a huge chest, but there was no hiding the fact that she did in fact have a chest.

Conner, for all the socializing experience he had gained over the years, could only dumbly stare at her and after a moment of stunned silence, said, "Those look very real."

"Well don't just stare at them!" she snapped tearfully, and before she shut her eyes tight again, she saw that he at least had the decency to look away with a sort of shy embarrassment.

The sound of quickly approaching footsteps met her ears, too far away and light on their feet to be Conner's. Someone else was coming, and faint voices soon accompanied the footsteps. Artemis' voice, and Wally's voice.

Wally.

He was coming to her room, where he would see her and... and... who else besides them was coming? Was the whole team on their way? God, no. It was bad enough that Conner had found out, but all of them? They couldn't all know. She wasn't ready for any of them to know.

'This isn't happening, this can't be happening.'

"Kon, Conner, close the door," she whispered frantically. She squinted her eyes open again, rapidly blinking up at him as she said quietly, "I don't want them to find out, I –"

Her breath hitched, cutting off her words, and Conner looked back over at her briefly, giving her this half-confused, half-concerned look, before adverting his eyes once more.

He shut the door just as Wally's and Artemis' voice entered her bedroom, and despite her bathroom door being kind of broken from Conner kicking it down, it was thankfully able to close all the way. Immediately after there was knocking on the door, done so quickly that it could only be Wally.

"Er, Rob? Conner?" Wally's voice called through the door, sounding very much confused, which really wasn't much of a surprise. The broken door was a clear sign that Conner had been there, and they could hear the water running, signs of someone in the process of taking a shower. When you add those two things together, it all equals out to a rather awkward situation... which it was, just not in quite the same way that Artemis and Wally might be guessing.

The door knob rattled, turning, but before anyone could attempt opening it, Conner pressed a hand against the door, firmly holding it in place, and got this look on his face that Ricki had long ago translated to: 'I look like I'm angry, but I'm actually trying to protect you.' Had the circumstances been different, she might have found the gesture nice, but as it was, she was a little too busy freaking out over the fact that Conner now knew, and that Wally and Artemis were only inches away from knowing.

"Everything all right in there?" Artemis asked.

"Yes," Ricki shouted back from her place on the floor, being the one to answer because – save for holding the door closed – Conner looked to be at a complete loss as to what he should do or say. She absentmindedly wondered if the subject of crossdressing, of hiding your true gender, had ever come up around Conner before now.

"Everything's fine," Ricki continued, "Go away now."

"Kon said he heard screaming," Artemis said, not about to be brushed off so easily.

"I just got soap in my eyes, okay?" she said, her words coming out irritated because more than anything, she just wanted them to go away so that she could focus on flushing her eyes out. "And I slipped and fell but I'm fine!"

"You fell?" Wally echoed, and the door knob rattled again. "Dude, are you sure your okay? Maybe I should come in."

"No!" she instantly snapped. "Uh... I mean..."

Burning eyes. Burning, burning, burning. Why the hell wouldn't they just leave?

Squirming, she sat up a bit with one arm supporting her weight and the other holding the shower curtain against her. As much as she tried to hold it back, a shuddering, pitiful whining sound escaped her – the tears falling more quickly, though that was possibly due more to frustration than to the pain. Either way, it was not the sort of sound that conveyed everything being 'alright.'

"Jeez, Rob," the doorknob rattled a third time as Wally tried to get in. "Just let me in to help you. I get that you're like, really modest, but come on, you're hurt."

Conner was watching her now, completely unabashed, and had this look like he wanted to leave his post at the door to instead come over and help her. He didn't completely let go of the door, but he took a couple of steps away from it, moving closer towards her, until his arm was stretched out with only his fingertips pressing against the door's surface. It was obvious from the look in his eyes that he didn't want to just leave her on the floor as she was to take care of everything herself.

"Can you... Can you get them out of my room, Conner?" she whispered it so quietly, but she knew he had heard her. "Make them go away and then... then.. just come back, okay? Cause we kinda really need to talk."

He nodded once, his mouth pressed into a thin line as his eyes narrowed, turning away from her to look at the door. As his hand reached down to grab the door knob, she was quick to add, even quieter than before, "Don't tell them anything."

He nodded again, and with her fate for the next few minutes left up to him, she turned so that her back was to the door, not wanting anyone to look in at her and see something for the brief moment that Conner would have the door open for. She shut her eyes tight, pressing her non-soapy hand against them as she listened to the sound of the door opening and then closing, and then the sounds of her friends and teammates talking back and forth.

Wally and Artemis were at first surprised by Conner's presence, not knowing that he was even still in there since he hadn't said anything before, and then there were questions about her. Conner stayed rather tight-lipped about the whole thing though, just assured them that she was fine – that 'he,' Robin, was fine – and then proceeded to get them out of her room, telling them that he was more than enough help for her.

While Conner was busy doing that, she struggled to her feet, since staying curled up on the ground wasn't exactly an option and she really wanted to get over to the sink so that she could rinse the shampoo out of her eyes. Eying the door with only one eye squinted open, she kept the shower curtain wrapped around herself as she rose, too worried that Conner or even someone else might just walk right back through the bathroom door without any warning. Her gaze never moving from the door, she shuffled over to the sink.

She wanted to switch the shower curtain out for one of her large towels, but with the type of day that she was having, it seemed like that would be the exact point that Conner would get back. Knocking before entering wasn't exactly one of Kon's strong points.

Mouth pressed into a thin line, she grabbed one of the towels off of the towel rack, watching the door closely the whole time and listening for any potential approaching footsteps.

'Oh, just do it.'

The shower curtain dropped around her feet and the towel whipped in the air as she quickly wrapped it around her. There was thankfully no sudden opening of the bathroom door, no one interrupting her at all. She turned on the sink faucet with a breath of relief.

"Way too much excitement today," she murmured to herself, sniffling.

"Robin?" Conner's voice drifted through the door just as she was leaning over the sink to press water cupped in her hands against her eyes. "They're gone now."

She had a brief moment of wanting to tell him to wait out there until she had gotten dressed and rinsed her eyes out as much as possible, but then, he had already seen her with only a shower curtain to cover her, so seeing her in only a towel wouldn't be any different. Ricki sighed, telling him to come in, and didn't bother moving at all from her spot hunched over the sink as the bathroom door opened up nearby. She could hear him walk in, closing the door behind himself.

Now that the complete shock from before of him walking in on her and discovering her secret had faded, they were left with an awkward silence, disturbed only by the sounds of running water and Conner shuffling unsurely where he stood off to the side.

"Can you turn off the shower?" she said in between rubbing water into her eyes and blinking rapidly, trying to flush them out as much as possible.

Not saying anything, she could hear Conner walk over to the bathtub and turn the water off. For a long while after that, the clone said nothing. It would seem that neither of them knew how to properly deal with the whole talking part of this odd, uncomfortable situation.

"Do you want me to go get Black Canary?" Conner finally asked, sounding very much out of his element.

"What? No," she said.

Definitely not. The less people that knew, the better. That had always been one of the rules, because if more people than just Bruce and Alfred knew, then there was a higher chance of the secret traveling through the grapevine and everyone finding out.

"But you fell," Conner said. "She should check and make sure you didn't hurt yourself, or get a concussion."

"My head feels fine," Ricki insisted, because it honestly did. What was hurting was her eyes, and how much rinsing did she need to do before that fucking shampoo was gone? "If it makes you feel better, she can check my head later. After I've 'manned' up."

"I don't understand," Conner said, and she could practically hear the frown in his tone. "Is this a new change, or have you always been..."

"A girl?" she said it so quietly, because it had been this giant secret for so long, it felt weird to be saying it out loud when she wasn't in the safety of the manor, and to someone who hadn't known the truth just minutes earlier. She briefly looked over her shoulder at him with bloodshot eyes before turning back to the running sink faucet. "Yeah, I've always been a... a girl."

"Why do you hide it from everyone?" Conner asked, "There are lots of female crime fighters out there."

She really didn't want to get into it, into all the reasons why, things that she had repeated to herself on so many different occasions in the past. She had done this dance so many times, debating all the reasons why she pretended to be a boy, and feeling like she needed to justify herself and her choices. It was always a freaking rollercoaster of emotions, and she'd rather not have to deal with it. Now or anytime in the near future.

So she gave him the short, watered-down answer.

"Things are different in Gotham, Kon," she said, pressing wet hands to her eyes, water dripping from between her fingers. Her eyes still hurt, but the burning had subsided a little bit. "It's just safer being a boy fighting crime in Gotham than being a girl. Especially since I started out so young."

Conner didn't say anything further in response to that, but a quick glance over at him showed that he didn't look entirely convinced by her explanation, like he still didn't really see the point in her hiding being a girl. She knew that it wasn't meant to be accusing or anything of the sort – Conner may be blunt and socially awkward, still not understanding a lot about the world and the people in it, but he always tended to be generally well-meaning – she supposed though that she was feeling a bit on the defensive side from having her secret found out by someone.

Which was why she turned to face him, giving him a steely look, and said, "This is my choice, alright?"

Her choice, and she didn't need his approval, didn't need to explain herself to him or anyone else.

Conner gave her this calculating look, a stretch of silence between them, before nodding his understanding. She gave him a small smile, relaxing just a bit, and grabbed a washcloth off the towel rack for her eyes. Soaking it under the running water, she squeezed out the excess water before turning off the sink.

"Does anyone else know?" Conner asked.

"No one but Batman." and Alfred. "You can't tell anyone either!"

"That's self-explanatory," Conner said bluntly, which was pretty much his way of saying 'no duh.'

And mentioning Batman reminded her of one very important thing about this whole situation that had yet to be mentioned.

Giving Conner a kind of wide-eyed look, because she could not stress the importance of this enough, she said quite seriously, "You cannot tell Batman about walking in on me like this."

Conner gave her a dubious look, "I thought you were in trouble and I came to help. What's wrong about that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get that," she said with a wave of her hand. "And even if he finds out that you now know about all of this," she gestured at her toweled body, "Try not to let it slip that you saw me in only a shower curtain, and then in only a towel."

"The shower curtain and the towel cover you up just fine though," Conner said, clearly not understanding what she was saying, why such a thing would bother an over-protective father-figure like Batman.

"Just take my word for it," she said, hands on her hips. "Bats worries about things like that, even if everything's totally innocent. Like that whole island incident when we lost our clothes. He wasn't too happy about that."

To be frank, they were all pretty lucky that Batman didn't flip out about that little event.

At the mention of the island incident, Conner's brow furrowed like he was remembering something, and then he shamelessly stared right down at her chest. The completely straightforward way he did it had her stunned for a second before she pointed up to her face, saying, "Hey, my eyes are up here, Conner."

"I know," he said innocently, yet still didn't look up from her chest. "You eyes were actually the first thing I noticed when I kicked your door open. Very blue."

She automatically slapped a hand over her eyes, having honestly forgotten about that part of her secret identity in light of Conner finding out her even bigger secret of being a girl. Realizing the futility in trying to hide her eyes at this point, her hand dropped away from her face.

And Conner was still staring.

"Where do they go when you're dressed as a boy?" the young Kryptonian clone asked curiously.

She turned away from him, pressing the cool, wet washcloth over her eyes.

"Alright, Kon, you're done here. Outta my room."

"But –"

"I bind them down with bandages, okay? Now scoot."

Her main reason for telling him about binding her chest being that she didn't want him asking her teammates, and then have them wondering why he even wanted to know.

"I'll go get Black Canary."

To check her head. Right. She really did feel fine though.

"Give me ten minutes to get dressed before you go get her," she said, peaking out from behind the washcloth to see him already at the bathroom door, his hand reaching for the doorknob. "Um, Conner?"

He looked back at her curiously.

"Thanks for... yeah."

She didn't really know what she was thanking him for; maybe for agreeing to keep her secret, maybe for being generally accepting of said secret even if he didn't really understand her reasoning behind keeping it, or maybe even for coming to help her when he heard her scream, which has subsequently led to him finding out about her. Who knew.

But... either way, maybe it wouldn't be so bad having someone else know

It might even be kind of nice.

.


.

Unsurprisingly, she did not have a concussion, but her eyes did still hurt, and she was feeling pretty drained after the whole shampoo incident, so she decided to stay in her room for the rest of the night, curled up on her bed with the washcloth still pressed against her eyes. Her quiet time with just herself didn't last too long though before there was a knocking at her bedroom. Several quick knocks in a row, so definitely Wally.

For a moment, she contemplated feigning sleep, because she was already emotionally exhausted and she really didn't want to risk having to deal with annoying crush-related symptoms, but she didn't want to leave him worrying about her, and she also didn't want to leave him potentially sulking over her not letting him in to the bathroom earlier to help.

"Come in," she called out.

A slight breeze brushed against her bangs, and in the next instant, Wally was sitting on her bed next to where she was lying down.

"So, are you okay, dude? I mean, I know Supey said you were okay, and Black Canary said you were fine, but –"

She smiled, giving him a light laugh, "I'm okay, Wally. What hurts most now is my pride."

Because seriously, falling in the shower? So stupid. She falls from buildings all the time and never has a problem with that. And then the shampoo? She's dodged much more dangerous stuff being thrown at her as well, but apparently an evil shampoo bottle is just too much.

"Aw, come on now," Wally said, seemingly following her train of thought. "Even you couldn't possibly have suspected that you'd be attacked by your shampoo bottle while in the shower."

Then he snickered, just a little bit.

"Don't make me kick you," she said, nudging him with a socked foot.

"Sorry, sorry," he laughed, then wrapped a hand around her ankle, holding her foot in place.

And there was that damned flutter.

She stilled on the bed, but didn't pull her foot away from him.

"Totally not fair though, dude," Wally continued on obliviously. "Kon got to see your eyes before me, your best bro! That's just not right."

"You wouldn't want to see them right now anyway," she said, washcloth held against them tight. "They're all gross and bloodshot."

His hand left her ankle, and then the bed bounced as Wally collapsed on his side next to her. She could then feel his fingertips touch the edge of the washcloth, and the flutter grew more powerful.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Wally asked, a grin clear in his tone.

Her hands tightened over the washcloth and she rolled away so that her back was facing him, saying, "Come on, Walls. You know I can't, and anyway, Kon saw by accident."

She didn't even have to see him to know that he was pouting. Thankfully though, he let up.

"Fine," he said, and she was glad to hear from his tone that he really wasn't that bothered by the whole thing. Always a speedster, Wally quickly moved on from the eye subject. "I got you a present."

There was laughter in his words.

"What is it?" she perked up, curious.

There was another faint gust of wind as Wally zipped off somewhere and then came back. He pressed her sunglasses into her hands and she sat up in bed as she put them on. Opening her eyes half-way, she saw him standing before her bed and proudly holding up the gift for her to see.

"Now you won't slip anymore."

A clear rubber shower mat.

Green eyes sparkled with mirth.

"Hilarious, KF."

.


Finally done with this chapter! I really struggled with the part with Superboy in it, because apparently writing dialog for Conner was harder than I thought it'd be. Also, just a quick note, Wally knows Robin's first name, but he doesn't know who she is (in case anyone was confused).

As always, review please and let me know what you think. :)