A/N: Okay, so, I found out today that fanfiction doesn't always lie. Some things aren't made up. Like, for example... Richie being gay. IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED IN THE ORIGINAL STATIC SHOCK COMIC! Honestly, I've never bothered to read much DC, only Watchman and a couple Batman ones. Normally I read Marvel, namely X-Men. So when I heard about this, and read the scans for myself... well, I was in for a wonderful surprise. I feck'n love that one of my favorite cartoon characters is actually meant to be homosexual. I'm a bit of what you might call a 'fag-hag'; I hang around gay guys and just love them. It's silly, really. But... yeah. I dunno, I just wanted to share my discovery with you. Not that you care, or weren't already aware, which I'm sure you were. Still, it makes everything Richie does feel more slashy to me. Heehe. Weird fact, though: Richie is 'Rick' in the comics. I know 'Rick' is another nickname for 'Richard', but I dunno, I like 'Richie' better. It's more... adorable. (and the cartoon version of Richie is more adorable than his comic counterpart. Seriously, in the comic, 'Rick' has long hair that he can put in a ponytail. It looks weird. XD )

OMG SORRY ABOUT THE RAMBLING. Just read the new chapter already, LOLOLOL.

.:Peaceful Blue:.

The sun shone down on Dakota without mercy, it's blisteringly hot rays making the city stifling to be out in. The only refuge was inside of a building, where you could breathe in the coldly stale conditioned air. Otherwise, you would be left out in the humid heat without so much as a passing breeze.

On this particular August day, no villain wanted to be wreaking havoc. Even people like Hotstreak wouldn't dare stir up trouble on a day when the thermometer read over one hundred degrees. And since it was summer, there was no school to preoccupy any of the children and teens.

What was there to do on a day like this one? The entire mall, arcade and all, was packed because of the boredom and air conditioning supply. So was the Center where Virgil's father worked, and essentially every other public place that anyone under the age of nineteen would have the right mind to be in.

So when it came down to it, everyone had something to do… or absolutely nothing to do. Except, maybe, lounge around their homes. Or go out for ice cream, hopefully scarfing it down before it melted into a sweet, milky soup.

But Virgil and Richie were tired of their homes, had already eaten their ice creams, and were currently walking to the closest building with air conditioning that wasn't jammed at the door by other people: the Gas Station of Solitude. Richie had fixed the air conditioning inside of it long ago, as well as the heater, with Virgil's help. They had to, seeing as how they spent a lot of time in the teeny abandoned station.

"One of these days, we gotta start building that underground base I found when I visited the future," Virgil stated casually as he plopped down on a semi-decent sofa from the garbage dump. "I'm sure you already have ideas, after the stuff I described to you."

"You bet I do," Richie grinned as he took a pop from their cooler, the voice command for a Coca-Cola being carried out. "I just haven't written it all down yet."

"Hey, can you get me one of those, too? A Pepsi, if you've got one in there."

"Catch." The blond tossed the blue can his friend's way. He stepped around some of the junk on the floor until he was seated beside the African American. "It's weird, isn't it? How peaceful it is."

"Mhm," Virgil hummed in agreement as he gulped the fizzy drink. "And all because everyone is sweating like pigs and feelin' too lazy to cause a ruckus. It's kinda funny, actually."

"Yeah, but it's also kinda boring," Richie commented as he leant back into the worn cushions. "Where's the action? Where's the fun?"

One of Virgil's eyebrows quirked at that. "Are you sayin' that you don't like having a break now and then?"

"Well, no, a break is fine, but it's… I dunno, not normal. Not normal for us, anyway. There's usually so much going on, y'know? Some baddie or another that we have to face, or some problem that comes up. It's weird to have things so…"

"Quiet?" the superhero offered with a smile on his lips and his soda can poised near his chin, ready for another sip.

"Exactly!" his partner pointed out with a finger. "It's too quiet! It's a hair pathetic, but I've gotten used to the police sirens and the yelling and the weapon fire and my own ragged breathing and drumming heartbeat. It's like, where'd it all go? It just up and left because of a heat wave? That's whack, V-man."

"Straight up whack," Virgil agreed with a chuckle, "But there ain't a thing we can do about it. We just have to go with the flow. The peaceful, dull, blue-colored flow."

"'Blue-colored'?" Richie laughed. "Where'd that come from?"

"Blue's a peaceful color, ain't it? Certain shades of it, at least. So, I figure… 'blue-colored'," the other explained with a shrug.

The blond found this amusing. "Alright, so it's a peaceful blue flow. But we're not supposed to do anything about it?"

"Nope, not a thing. Just sit back and relax, bro. Blue is considered a relaxing color, too."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm," Virgil replied as he chugged the last of his cold Pepsi and crushed the can in his hand. He tossed it somewhere on the floor. "But if you're really that bored, we can train or something."

"Um, I'll pass. I don't want to work up more of a sweat than I already was just from walking here," the genius grumbled. "Instead, maybe we could play air hockey."

"We don't have an air hockey table in here," Virgil frowned in confusion.

Richie flashed him a smile. "That's where you're wrong, V. I wanted to surprise you." he got up and stepped over to one of the many sheet-covered items in the old gas station. He yanked it off, revealing a hand-crafted air hockey table. "I made this baby last week. It'll start working if you give it some juice. But for added fun to the classic game, I rigged this up," he rambled excitedly. Richie always got excited about a new invention, a quality about him that Virgil thought was charming, because it was the only time when Richie abandoned his insecurities and was actually proud of something. "See this hole next to the scoreboard? It sprays rule-breakers with silly string! Hilarious, right?" Virgil smiled and nodded, but knew that more was coming. "Oh, and get this! I made it work like one of the original Zap Caps by making it's main source of power an old car battery that I converted into an energy storage unit. That way, we can play for as long as we like."

"That's awesome, Rich," Virgil said enthusiastically. "Just tell me where the battery is, and I'll start it up."

Richie's grin couldn't be larger. "Sweet! It's just under your side of the table."

"My side?"

"Yeah. See the orange stripe next to the score board, and the orange mallet by the orange goal? Well, that's you, duh. And I'm the one with the green stripe, green mallet, and green goal."

Virgil couldn't help but laugh. "Dude, what is with you and green?"

"What?" Richie said defensively. "Green's my favorite color. Don't be dissing green."

Virgil laughed harder. "I'm not, I'm not. Green's cool. But why is my stuff orange?"

"I dunno, I guess I was thinking of your favorite orange shirt. You know, the one with the black stripes and number five on the sleeves? You wear that one a lot, even when it's too warm for it. And your old favorite shirt was orange and yellow, so hey, I figured it was your favorite color," Richie told him as he fumbled with his green-painted air hockey mallet.

The other boy shook his head, a smile on his face. "You're such a dork, Rich. You seriously thought all of that through while making this table for us?"

Richie shrugged, a slight blush across his nose. "Not really. It was one of those things I thought of without realizing it. I just thought that color coding would make things easier, and green and orange came to mind." He shrugged again. "Anyway, let's start playing." He turned on the table, the little black puck in the middle beginning to drift from the air being pumped through the plastic top. It entered Richie's side, and he lunged forward to push it with his mallet.

Virgil returned the shot with a hard slapping noise as his right arm jerked outward to meet the puck. It flew diagonally across the broad table, making a Z before it flew into Richie's goal. The scoreboard dinged, a red digital numeral one (so much like the numbers on an alarm clock) popping up beside the orange stripe.

"Haha, got cha," Virgil smirked.

Richie fished the puck out. "We shall see who will get who in the end," he threatened in a dramatic comic-book-villain voice. He then attacked with a hard thrust of his arm, which sent the puck flying directly across from his goal and into Virgil's.

One to one, now.

"Oh, it's on," Virgil grinned wickedly as he bent over to retrieve the puck. As soon as it hit the table, a series of impossible moves cane into play, most of them getting blocked by the other. Back and forth the little puck went, getting scuffed from the sheer intensity of it all.

But the boys were laughing, enjoying themselves, turning their game less and less peaceful as they turned up the amp on their competitiveness toward one another.

Pretty soon, the game was eighteen to twenty, with Virgil in the lead.

"You can't hope to defeat me, young grasshopper," the mocha teen scoffed in false Japanese accent.

"You are mistaken; I am fully capable of taking you down," the white boy replied, attempting to mimic the accent but failing horribly. "Watch as I stun you with my… kamehame shot!"

"…Richie, kamehame is from Dragonball Z."

"So?"

"So, Dragonball Z is from an anime. The whole 'young grasshopper' thing is from Karate Kid. You can't go changing the dynamic! It makes the conversation sound kinda stupid."

"…Virg, that entire argument of yours was stupid."

"Hmm, I think you have a point. Carry on, then."

Rolling his eyes, Richie positioned himself a step back from the table, his hands together at his side. "Ka… me… ha… me…"

Virgil tried not to snicker into his hand. He tried to hold it in, but it kept tumbling out. Richie looked so ridiculous like that, trying to imitate the Sayan warrior. Still, it was the amusing type of ridiculousness, so it was allowed.

"HAAAA!" Richie roared as he threw himself forward into the table. The puck zoomed off the surface and brushed Virgil's dreadlocks as he ducked out of it's path.

"Richie, watch it!"

"…Oops. Heh heh, I guess there is such thing as 'too much power'."

The puck clattered to the floor, and Virgil picked it up. He tossed it to his partner. "Here, you can have another go, but only because watching that was the funniest thing I have ever seen. Even if it nearly knocked me unconscious."

Richie smiled. "You're gonna regret this as soon as I tie with you."

"You're two points below me, bro. I don't think you stand a life form's chance on Jupiter to catching up with me."

"That sounds like something I would say. Am I rubbing off on you, Virg?"

"You should be," the other chuckled, "Since we've known each other for about, oh, I dunno… our entire lives?"

"Not even close, but for argument's sake, I'll agree with you." He set the puck back on the table. "Anyway, dodge this, mighty grasshopper."

And so the game continued, and it didn't end until sunset, Richie becoming victorious in the end with fifty-two points to fifty-one points.

"I beat you, I beat you, na na nana na naaa~" the blond cheered to himself as he danced his way around the table to shove it in Virgil's face. "What was that about not having a life form's chance on Jupiter? Maybe the scientists should check again, because now I think there is life out there."

"You only won by one point," Virgil pointed out as he crossed his arms over his chest. "One."

"One is enough for me!" Richie answered. He proceeded to wriggle his butt in victory. "You're just pissed 'cause you were winning during the whole thing, until I totally scored twice in a row."

For good measure, Virgil kicked the genius in his scrawny, smug behind. Richie let out a yelp as he stumbled forward and caught himself on the table. "Yeah, so I am a little tweaked. But it's only because I thought I could win even while going easy on you. We can always have a rematch any old time."

Rubbing his abused bum, Richie turned to face his friend. "Easy on me? Psh, as if." He took a moment to think over the last statement. "Alright, bring on the rematch. Name a day."

The mocha teen grinned. "The next one that's peacefully blue, of 'course."

The blond held out his hand. "You got yourself a deal. I love challenges; especially ones that cure boredom and earn me a chance to prove you wrong."

Virgil took the paler hand in his and shook it. "I also love challenges; especially ones that cure boredom and prove me right."

"You sound so confident," Richie dared as he tightened his grip and brought their hands up between their chests. "But I bet you're just trying to intimidate me."

"Believe me, I am," the other laughed as he also gave their hands a squeeze. When he let go, Richie was laughing again.

"Man, I don't see how I was ever bored to begin with. You never fail to disrupt the peace."

"Face it, you like that about me."

The blond adjusted his glasses. "Yeah, actually. I do."