(262)

"I can't tell if Wally's really good at this or touched by God," Robin said to Roy as Connor held Wally upside down—keg stand.

"Why is he upside down?" asked Kaldur, tilting his head confusedly.

"Makes it harder to swallow," said Roy. "Also, it's crazier."

Wally collapsed at last, and Connor tossed him onto the couch, where he rolled up into a ball and hugged a pillow to himself.

"Poor Wally!" Gemma said, hurrying over to the couch. Roy frowned. She was pulling a young man by the hand—a very happy looking man. Gemma stroked Wally's flaming red hair soothingly.

"I'm drunk," Wally said plainly, but his speech was so slurred that Roy wondered if Gemma could understand it.

"I had the impression that this was a party," said Red Tornado. "Why is Kid Flash going to sleep?"

"He's hammered," said Connor. "He needs to process it, and then he can party again."

"This is a very strange party," Red Tornado said. Roy narrowed his eyes at the boy holding Gemma's hand.

"Hey, Connor," He grabbed Connor by the collar and pulled him closer. "Who's that guy with Gem?"

"Oh, I didn't know they were together," Connor said, shrugging.

"Who is he?" Roy asked again.

"That's James. The new recruit. Dude, he can grow plants. Wally thinks he can grow us a cannabis bush right here on the mountain. Hm...Gemma didn't waste any time."

And Connor returned his attention to a game of beer pong with Zatanna, and Roy was left to glare at James and Gemma's interlocked hands.

"These festivities confuse me," Red Tornado said to Roy. "Are parties always like so?"

"Depends on the party," Roy said, watching Gemma lead James to Ethan and Meredith, introducing them excitedly. He did a quick profile of James.

James was a somewhat thin, lanky teenager a small bit shorter than Roy himself. He and Gemma seemed almost alike in some senses. Both had dark hair, both had light eyes, both seemed a little breakable. But Gemma had no dark hair tonight, Roy noticed. He held back a snort. Gemma had come to this costume party as Meredith. She wore a dress that barely touched her upper thigh, but she had tempered it with a pair of leggings. Her strawberry blonde wig caught the light at certain angles, and she could almost reach James' nose in her very Meredith-ish high heels.

"Who are you dressed as?" Meredith was asking her as Roy approached them.

"I'm...a Spice Girl," Gemma said.

"Which one?" asked Meredith kindly.

Gemma looked screwed. "I...uh...the blonde one," she said. She spotted Roy. "Hi, Roy! Have you met James?!"

And she dragged James over to Roy, happy to be away from Meredith, and hugged him quickly.

"Roy, this is James," she stood back as they shook hands. Roy gave James' hand what he hoped was a bone crushing squeeze. "James, this is Roy. He's with the League, but he's been working with us on this mission."

"You're one of my favorites," James said, shaking the ache out of his hand subtly behind his back.

"Gemma's one of mine," Roy said, taking a gulp of beer. "We all love her here. I hope she's in good hands."

James smiled crookedly, shrinking under Roy's dry glare. Gemma was grinning from ear to ear, looking between them, lost and clueless as always.

"OH! Brownies!" she said excitedly as M'gann laid a tray of brownies onto the buffet table. "Be right back!"

And she dashed off as fast as Roy supposed anyone could in heels that high, leaving Roy to glare at James without anything to stop him.

"Great party," James said.

"Gemma's a really good friend of ours here," Roy said. "See Amelie over there? The French girl?"

"Yeah..." James glanced over at the far corner, where Amelie and Artemis were using an antique tea table top as a dartboard.

"She's got this really cool power. She can turn people to stone if she wants. They call her Medusa."

"Do they?" James asked, his lips forming a thin line.

"Yeah. Gemma's her best friend—her little sister, practically—and Amelie is very protective of her."

"It's...good to know everyone is so tight," James said. Roy nodded, taking another swig of beer.

"We are, we are," he said. "But Amelie, her loyalty is to Gemma. If Gem were to ever get hurt...well, I feel bad for whoever does it to her. Amelie has this really cold revenge tactic. It had something to do with knives and balls, I think."

James was paler than the moon, and Roy couldn't have been smugger if he'd gotten away with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Knives and balls?"

"Yep. She cuts off the pillar and lets the stones wither," Roy almost sang the rhyme, for added effect. Gemma came bouncing back, a brownie in her hand, her mouth full. She looked from Roy to James.

"Does someone wanna dance with me?" she asked. Roy and James only continued staring at each other. "Fine," Gemma said. "I'll ask Dad. DAD! Dance with me!"

And Roy saw Gemma pull Ethan by the hand out of the corner of his eye, and he kept himself focused on James.

"I'd better stay on her good side, then," James said after a while. Roy nodded.

"Wise," he said, taking another swig of his beer. "Have a drink, loosen up. It's a party, after all."

And Roy left James to collapse onto the couch beside a steadily reviving Wally, where he watched Gemma dance with Ethan. Zatanna and Connor ran by in their matching greaser costumes. Artemis and Amelie had switched out their game of darts for a game of poker instead. Artemis was a hippie. Amelie was a fairy. Robin was the Mad Hatter, except he bounced around the room, high on sugar and coffee, seeming more like the White Rabbit instead.

"You guys!" he called over the deafening music. "I think I can fly!"

High.

"Roy," Gemma said, falling into the seat beside him. "I think Wally put something in the brownies again."

"Where does he even get all this pot?" asked Roy.

"I don't think its pot," Gemma said, taking another experimental bite out of her brownie. "I think it's something else."

"Well, what does it feel like?" Roy asked.

Gemma took another bite, thinking hard. "Um...it feels like...crystal. I think."

"You think it's meth?"

"I didn't say it was meth," Gemma said. "I said it felt like crystal."

Roy laughed, his attention briefly on Zatanna, who was only just discovering James' existence and was promptly dragging him to the other end of the room for a proper game of spin the bottle. Raquel was emptying a bottle into the punch bowl. Kaldur and Red Tornado were learning how to gamble from Amelie. M'gann was watching eagerly, pointing things out to Kaldur. Roy looked back at Gemma.

"I'm really glad this whole thing's over," Gemma said. Her skin shimmered on full power now. She didn't look tired. She was smiling—real smiles—she giggled like her usual shallow, stupid, clueless self.

"I'm glad it's over, too," Roy said.

"I hear there's gonna be a press conference," Gemma said.

"Is there?"

"Yeah. Word got out that we were travelling to all the water processers. Press wants to know why."

"What's gonna happen?"

"Batman's passing it off as a training exercise," Gemma said. "They're gonna try and make it look like it was nothing, so only two or three members of the League are gonna be there. I think they might ask you, because it's in Star City."

"I'll be there if he wants me to," Roy said. "It must suck," Roy said.

She eyed him. "What must suck?"

"You spent months working on that toxin. No one is ever gonna know what you did for them."

Gemma's smile faltered. "I think it's better that way," she said. "If people find out, then they'll never forget it. I'd like to forget all about it. I'd like people to forget me for a while."

"Senator Kearney won't forget about you," Roy said. "Not for a long while."

"I don't like him," Gemma said. "He won't leave me alone. He invited me to dinner with his family. What am I supposed to say?"

"Say no," Roy said simply.

She looked at him. "Can I do that?"

"Sure. You're a hero. You can tell him you're busy saving cats from trees."

Gemma smiled. It reached her eyes. "I'll do that," she said.

"Hey Gemma!" Robin called. "I'm gonna go climb that big oak by the park. Come with me!"

"Wait up!" she said, and she leaned over and kissed Roy's cheek before she got to her feet and hurried off. Roy watched her reach the door before she paused midway, turned back, and took his hand.

"Come with us?" she asked, tugging.

"I think I'll stay put for a while," Roy said. "You go ahead. I'll catch up."

She sighed and turned, then paused. She turned back and licked the side of his face. Roy chuckled as she bounced out of the room after Robin, listening to their screams of excitement as they went.

And even though James was a thorn in his side, he couldn't stop smiling no matter how many times Wally slapped the back of his head. Because the worst was over. She was smiling again. She was laughing again. She wasn't tired anymore. She was back.

(442)

"What in the hell?" Roy looked around the Briefing Room as he stepped out of the zeta-tube, suited up and ready for...anything except half the Justice League to be standing there. "What did I miss?" Roy asked. Three heads turned to look at him.

"The Watchtower got blown up," Robin said.

"Not blown up, Robin," Artemis said, rolling her eyes. "It just got fired at."

"Was anyone inside?" asked Roy. "Is anyone hurt?"

"J'onn was in there," said Connor. "But he's in the medical bay right now. M'gann's with him. He'll be fine."

"What's gonna happen now?" asked Roy.

"For now, they're gonna relocate to the Hall of Justice," Robin said. "And they'll be using this place as backup to investigate the attack."

"What's been done so far?" asked Roy.

"The Lanterns went back to the Tower to pick up clues," Connor said. "They're on their way back now. Batman is over there, trying to figure out where the attack came from, but we'll know more for sure once we get a look at whatever Hal and John found."

"They called in a few minutes ago," said Robin, eyes huge. "Said they found something big."

"But who would attack the Watchtower?" asked Zatanna as she came into view, leaning on Artemis.

"Extra-terrestrial, maybe?" Connor answered, shrugging. "Who knows?"

Roy couldn't hear much more of their speculation. Despite the sheer insanity of the Watchtower being attacked, all he could think about was PineCORP and their alliance with Brick-Top and Gemma having created a virus and being crippled by guilt and how an entire bunker filled with material she had created was sitting underground in New Jersey waiting to be destroyed or weaponized, depending on who got there first and who got there first was pointless unless that person in question knew the passcode, but the only person who actually knew the passcode was Gemma.

Roy walked off quietly, thinking of Gemma's Blackberry back in his apartment. One try or the entire system would shut itself down and the memory would fry and he'd never know who it was that she was plotting to expose, who was implicated by whatever evidence she knew was in that vial of soil—be it PineCORP or herself. He'd never know if his theories were right—if she had been manipulated into helping PineCORP because she was shallow and gullible or if she had been their agent from the beginning. He'd never know, he'd never know, he'd never know.

A twinkle caught his eye. He looked up. He hadn't even been looking where his feet were taking him, but he'd wondered into the Glitter Room. He reached out and touched the wall. Red Tornado's glassy glaze covering had given the glitter a less obvious sparkle. Roy closed the door and switched on the little light. It caught the mirrors, and the whole room started to sparkle. He looked around him, past all the furniture and the wet-bar that Wally had broken at least twelve rules and two fingers to install, at the splashes of gold and silver and bronze and copper and gray that colored the black and for a just a second, he was back upstate, by the lake with the fireflies, and Wally and Artemis were fighting the Civil War on the other side of the lake but it just didn't reach him because they were too far away, and the firelight was the only clue Roy had that he wasn't there at all. For just a second, he was surrounded by fireflies and a brilliant sky above him and Gemma was there beside him and her skin shimmered delicately, and her hand was up tracing the patterns in the sky at random and her fingers were backlit by a half moon. For just a second, she was singing a song about Jesus and actual heaven thinking it was a song about love and fireflies were soaring around her and her voice wasn't American Idol worthy but it hardly mattered because Roy loved that not perfect voice and that not perfect mentality and that not perfect pirouette. He loved looking up at the sky from upstate New York and thinking that for once he didn't need to ask any questions. He didn't need to wonder why he was there or what he was doing or what would happen next or why there was no full moon because in chick-flicks, there was always a full moon. He didn't need to wonder why the fireflies always greeted him or why Wally and Artemis were fighting the Civil War or why he couldn't be across the lake from Kaldur and Robin for a change or why there were so many stars in the sky that he could barely see that actual sky because there was no reason why. Things were because they just were. It was as simple and shallow as that. There was no deeper meaning in upstate New York. There was no trench he'd have to fall into to find an answer. It was a shallow place—shallow as a droplet of rain on the cracked asphalt. Perhaps even more shallow that Gemma Stone herself.

"Roy, get out here," said a voice.

Roy looked up. Connor had his hand on the knob, watching him. "What?"

"Hal and John are back. They've got one hell of a find. Come and see."

"I—yeah," Roy followed Connor blindly back to the Briefing Room, where everyone was crowded around Hal and John.

"What did you find?" asked Roy.

"One of their bullets," Hal said. "If you can call it that."

"It missed the target and it was just floating nearby," John said. Roy leaned over and took a look at it.

"It's definitely alien technology," said Artemis. "Look at it, for God's sake."

"It's so...pretty," Raquel said. Roy felt his heart hit the ground.

"It's not diamond," said Black Canary. "I'm positive. It's not right. It's...stronger. Something mined on Mars, perhaps?"

"No, we have nothing like that," said J'ann, leaning on a crutch. "Nothing at all. I've never seen anything like it in my travels."

"Sambanite," Roy said quietly. They all looked up at him.

"What?" asked Batman.

"It's not diamond, it's Sambanite," Roy said. His voice sounded oddly disconnected, automatic, not even his anymore.

"How do you know?" asked Superman. "Have you seen this before?"

"You won't find it in any records," Roy said. "Because technically, it doesn't exist yet."

"Then how can you be sure?" asked Hal.

"Because it was Gemma's," Roy said quietly. "It was invented by Gemma."

"This thing is Gemma's?" Hal asked, holding it up. It was about a foot long, sharpened on each end. It didn't look too different from the one Lex Luthor had.

"Yeah," Roy said.

"But Gemma kept an inventory of everything she made," Batman said. "I have a copy at the Hall of Justice. There's nothing called Sambanite in there."

"Because she was still working on it," Roy said. "She didn't take an inventory of something until she'd perfected it."

"I'd say this is pretty perfect," Black Canary said, eying the Sambanite.

Roy sighed. What would he say? He couldn't tell them everything—PineCORP and Otto Mason—unless he was exactly sure of what it was that he was telling them. Could he skirt around the details and give them half of the truth? Could he find a way to tell them only what needed telling without arousing suspicion?

"Come on, you guys," Roy said. "She made half of our arsenal."

"It's true," Artemis said. "She made my bow lighter. She created materials that made my arrows faster, easier to use."

"She created stuff for my utility belt," Robin said.

"She had a workshop somewhere," Roy said. "She kept all the new stuff that still needed developing in there. Whoever fired this," and he ushered to the Sambanite. "Must have stolen it from her workshop or her notes."

"Then we need to find her workshop," said Superman. "And her notes because this thing is indestructible and who knows how many more like it she made?"

"Do you know where the workshop is?" asked Batman.

"I could look," he said, and the coordinates of the bunker in New Jersey were glowing in his mind.

"Get looking," Batman said. "Someone get Ethan on the phone."

"What do we tell him?" asked Wonder Woman.

"Tell him Gemma's work is being weaponized," Batman said. "We'll need his help if we ever want to destroy it. Red Arrow, if you find the workshop, don't go in. Let us know first. It'll probably be armed."

Though Roy knew that was far from the truth that no one on earth but himself, Otto Mason, and Lex Luthor even knew where the bunker was, he nodded anyways.

"I'll let you know when I've got something," he said, and he turned heel and walked into the zeta tube, intending to head straight home, knowing that if he couldn't figure out that passcode, he was thoroughly fucked.

(273)

'How's the conference? –Gem'

Roy huffed. 'Boring.' He sent back. Bridget—or was it Bailey?—was playing with the zipper.

'How's James doing? Nervous?'

'You tell me,' he wrote. 'You're the one texting him off the hook.'

"Oh, crap," he said, gasping. Brenda's hand travelled up slowly, her crimson nails scratching at his stomach. His phone buzzed again.

'What are you talking about?' it read.

'You're texting him,' he wrote. 'his phone's been blowing up.'

'Doesn't mean it was me.'

'He said it was his girlfriend,' Roy said. Beatrice slipped her other arm around his waist, holding him closer. His phone buzzed again.

'Then it's definitely not me,' it said. 'His girlfriend is some girl named Rachel. Some small town in Texas, I think.'

Roy froze. The top of Becca's head was all he could see when he looked down, but he suddenly felt like he might throw up on it with the embarrassment of this misunderstanding if she didn't get up and run.

His phone buzzed again.

'OMG,' the screen read. 'You thought I was with James?'

Yes, he was going to say. Yes, he thought she was with James because it looked like she was and he had tried to convince himself that he was okay with it and it killed him at first because he was pissed at the world and beating badasses up way harder than was necessary and it wasn't until Ollie had confronted him about it because he had put some unlucky bank-robbing sonofabitch in a coma that he decided he needed a new outlet. And what better to help him forget one girl than another girl? And that was why he had ditched a press conference happening on the other side of the hotel because BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca was hotter than sin and was on the knees of her year long legs and it took him a few seconds to realize that Gemma wasn't sending him angry texts because she could not see him. He looked to the sky and thanked whoever could hear him. And the he wondered if his thanks would be acknowledged by whoever was listening because it was mixed with the sounds of sucking coming from below. But he took too long thinking it through, because his phone rang.

"H—hello?" he replied as BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca dragged her fingernails along his waistline.

"Did you seriously think I was dating James?" she asked.

"I—it lo—it looked—it looked like it," he forced out at last.

"Where are you?" she asked. "Oh, was I not supposed to call?"

"NO!" he half yelled, half gasped, his hand flying to hold BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca's head steady. "I—no, it's fine."

"Oh...kay," she said, and Roy tilted his head back, leaning against the wall. "So you ditched the conference. I can't see you on the screen."

"You—you're watching—the conference?" he asked breathlessly.

"Sure," she said simply. "I promised James I would. He's really nervous, Roy. Take care of him. He has to look good or he'll be humiliated. His girlfriend's probably watching, too, you know."

"I—yeah—I—I'll take care...I'll—"

"Are you jogging?" she asked. "You sound so...winded."

"I—sorry," Roy said, his fingers tangling in BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca's golden locks. His eyes widened as a loud groan escaped her lips, and he almost crushed her face against his abdomen to muffle the sound.

"What was that?"

"I—nothing," he said, exhaling so deeply she would have felt it from Japan. "Just walked—past...the honeymoon suite," he said.

"Ew," Gemma said. "Get back to the conference room and wave at me."

"You...dork," he said, muffling a gasp by covering his mouth with his fist. BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca lifted her head slowly, leaving a trail of lip-gloss all across his torso as she wrapped a leg around his waist.

"I'll wave back, I promise!" Gemma said. "You just won't be able to see me."

"I—fuck!" he paused, eyes huge, his hand clapping over his mouth.

"Are you okay?" she asked. BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca gasped. Roy moved his hand to cover her mouth instead.

"I almost tripped down the stairs," he said, his voice sounding as close to a squeak as ever could have gotten. BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca crushed her waist against his.

"Be careful," Gemma said. "I'm not in that much of a rush. Though it would be cool if you waved soon. I'm getting tired of watching Batman talk."

"Yeah," he grumbled. BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca's legs were like a vice, tightening around him, pulling him closer. Jesus, where the hell did he even find her? "Yeah—Batman's boring."

"I told you not to run down the stairs," Gemma said. "You're gonna trip again."

"No rush," Roy said, gasping.

"You sound pretty rushed," Gemma said. "Wait—you're running away from the conference, aren't you?"

"I—Jesus!—Guilty as charged," Roy said as BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca bit so hard into his shoulder he thought she might rip a chunk off. Her fingers scratched at the back of his neck, holding him close. Roy put his hand over her mouth, blocking out the noise she made that was steadily rising in volume.

"I knew you'd ditch James!" Gemma said. "I swear you're so mean sometimes!"

"I'll—go—back," he said. "I—need—coffee."

"You're running for your life, you jerk!" she said. "I can hear you panting!"

Roy thanked God that panting was the only thing she could hear.

"I'm—running—back," he said.

"Oh...my...GOD!" BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca shrieked.

"Uh oh," Gemma said, and Roy heard her giggle. "You should have known better than to run into the open like that. It sounds like some fan-girls recognized you."

"Right," Roy said as BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca squeezed his shoulders, burying her face into his neck. "Gotta—run—now."

"That's what you get for ditching James," Gemma said reproachfully. "Maybe I should take him to Broadway instead."

"Br—Broadway?" he asked, his eyes rolling back a little. "What's—what's happening—on Broadway?"

"I've got tickets to Mamma Mia! on Broadway," Gemma said. "I was gonna take you, but since you're such a jerk—"

"I was—I was actually—I was actually thinking—fuck—these girls are fast!" Roy said.

"You earned it," Gemma said flatly. "Now what were you thinking?"

"Judd Apatow!" Roy said, and his voice was about five times louder than it should have been.

"Are you serious?" she asked. "Judd Apatow is there?!"

"No—no, I—I want to—to take you—to see it. His movie."

"Oh...okay. I guess Broadway can wait. What time? I can meet you there."

"S—Sunday sound—good?"

"Sunday's great. Now find a corner to hide from those fan-girls, get back to the conference room and wave at me."

"You—you got it," he said. "See ya."

"Later, gator," she said, and the line went dead.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Roy yelled as BridgetBaileyBrendaBeatriceBecca paused at last. They both exhaled sharply.

"Who was that?" she asked in between breaths.

"That—that was...my press agent," Roy replied.

"You...take your press agent...to watch Judd Apatow?" she asked, adjusting her shirt. Roy frowned at her name tag. Briana.

"We're...close," he said.

She rolled her eyes, pulling her heels back on. "We'll talk soon, right?" she asked.

Roy gulped. "Sure, sure," he said. "The...interview."

"Call me," she said, running a hand through her hair to smooth it as she walked down the hall. Roy leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor as he zipped up his suit.

"Shit," he muttered.

No one on earth could ever know about this.

(447)

'How you doing?'

Ollie. Roy ignored the text. He'd been getting nothing different for the past three days that he'd been holed up in his apartment, trying to figure out just what the hell to punch into the phone to get it to open up. He'd considered various options, he'd even made a chart of which ones she'd probably use.

P-E-A-R-L. Her favorite gemstone. Half the things in her closet were decorated with pearls.

P-U-R-S-E. Her favorite accessory. She owned more purses that Roy owned arrows.

A-R-R-O-W. Could she care enough to have made that her passcode? It seemed amongst the most likely. Gemma wasn't one to distance herself from what she cared about. Her passcode was probably something sentimental.

G-R-E-E-N. Her favorite color. Was it too random? Or was it so random that no one would ever suspect it?

P-A-R-I-S. Her favorite city.

D-R-U-N-K. Her favorite mental condition.

R-O-S-E-S. Her favorite flower. Or was it a lily?

T-I-G-E-R. Her favorite animal.

F-R-U-I-T. Her favorite snack.

F-R-O-S-T. She loved frost on windows. Half the pictures hanging in her Chicago bedroom were of frosty windows.

R-O-B-I-N. Her favorite bird. Robin was always smug about this.

P-E-A-R-S. Could she? It was likely. Roy associated pears with her more often that he did with actual food.

S-P-I-R-E. She once tried to convince Black Canary to allow her to replace the tip of Mount Justice with a spire rooftop. Naturally, she had been hanging around Raquel that entire day.

B-I-R-D-S. Connor wouldn't hear of her bringing a hummingbird to Mount Justice, but she never gave up on the idea.

W-A-T-E-R. She would have been incredibly bitter at her father's wedding if not for the fact that it was by the sea.

S-U-G-A-R. Hey, it was possible.

Roy tossed the pen over his shoulder, groaning as his cell phone buzzed again.

'You're killing me.' Ollie again. Roy tossed the phone over his shoulder as well. His eyes fell back on the crystal wall, where his credit card was still suspended. He glanced down at Gemma's phone, sitting innocently on his coffee table.

One try left.

(276)

"I didn't think it was that funny," Roy said.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, pulling her blue beanie over her head. "It was awesome! How did you know I love Judd Apatow?"

"Lucky guess, maybe," Roy said.

Gemma took his hand and pulled him across the street, to the park. "The ducks are probably gone by now," she said. "Since it's getting so cold. But you should see the lake at night. They light up the trees and if you look at the water, it looks kinda like it does upstate."

"Nothing looks like upstate," Roy said.

"This comes pretty close," Gemma promised. "If you squint," she added.

"You still have the tickets to Broadway?"

"Sure. You wanna see it with me, or do I have to take James?"

"I thought you were together," Roy said.

"So you ditched him?" Gemma asked skeptically as she tugged him along. "Why would that even bother you?"

"It just—I'm...you're my friend. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"You're sweet," she said, smiling endearingly at him. "But you're still mean."

"I waved at you, didn't I?"

"You're still mean and you're still on probation."

"Fine. What's my next punishment?"

"Hm...you can come with me to Senator Kearney's open house mixer," she said.

"Does this guy have nothing better to do with his time?" Roy asked.

"Apparently not," she said. "He's creepy as hell and I'm a minor but that probably wouldn't stop him from sticking his hand down my shirt and I can't keep asking Kaldur to come with me."

"Alright," Roy said. "I'll come."

"Good. Here it is," she said. Roy looked out at the little pond.

He had to admit it was pretty. It wasn't as pretty as say, upstate New York, but it was pretty. The light sparkled on the surface of the water, and it was constantly rippling because of the breeze, and if Roy stared only at the water, he could pretend that he was back there by that lake. He looked up to the sky. Not a single star in sight.

"You won't find stars here," Gemma said, leaning against the railing of the bridge and sighing wistfully. "It's still pretty, I guess. But it's kind of sad. People should live in tepees. Maybe then we could see the stars from everywhere."

"You couldn't last five minutes in a tepee," Roy said flatly.

"That's not true," she said. "I'd last. Like—a day or two. I lasted the whole weekend upstate."

"Yeah, because you had your cell phone," Roy said. "If I took that thing away from you, you'd die."

"You know how much this phone and I have been through?" she asked. "You know how many memories we've shared—on the memory card?"

"I'm sure it's real close to your heart," Roy said.

"Meredith wants to get me a new one," she said. "An iPhone, like hers. I don't like hers."

"iPhones are cool," Roy said. "I have an iPhone."

"Which is good for you," Gemma said. "But it's not for me. Meredith is trying to change me."

"She's not trying to change you," Roy said. "She's just trying to upgrade your phone."

"It starts with a phone," Gemma said. "And then it's your bedroom décor, and then it's your car, and then you're living in a picket fence house because a high-rise in the big city just isn't family oriented enough. And then I get thrown in boarding school so she and my Dad can fill up the house with babies because I'll be in the way."

"Ethan would never let her send you to boarding school," Roy said. "He likes you too much for that."

"I certainly hope he likes me too much for that," Gemma said. "Because I'm really starting to like him."

Roy laughed as she huffed and crossed her arms. The wind picked up again, blowing a strand of hair into her face. He reached forward to brush it back.

"Good to know he's liked," Roy said. "After sixteen years, I'm sure he'll appreciate it from you."

"Liked like Facebook," Gemma said. "Hey—do you have Facebook?"

"No."

"You should make one."

"Why?"

"So I can tag you."

"Why?"

"Because I tag everyone. Except you. So make one so I can tag you."

"I don't want one."

"Please?"

"Fine. I'll make one when I get home."

"And then add me so I can start tagging you."

"Okay."

"I'm gonna put up the picture that Connor took on Christmas."

"Which one?"

"The one where I licked your face."

"I never saw that one."

"Half of Zatanna's address book saw it. I think my Dad might have seen it, too."

"Really? What did he say?"

"He asked if James knew. He thought we were together, too."

"Everyone did. You were holding his hand at that party."

"I was showing him around."

"You were still holding his hand."

"How is it that I licked your face and no one said anything, but I held his hand and everyone thought I was with him?"

"I don't know," Roy said, smiling. "I don't know."

"You were mean to him," Gemma said. "God, you're so mean."

"I'm sorry," Roy said. "I told you. I'm territorial."

"I didn't realize I was territory."

"Not like that."

"Then how?"

"Like...friendly."

"You're territorial of the friend-zone?"

"It's a tough job."

"I'll bet," Gemma said. A pause. "You threatened him."

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you did you liar. He's terrified of Amelie. No one else would say anything. No one except you. It had to be you."

"So what if it was?"

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing. Just that Amelie's defensive of you."

"Thanks, jerk-face. Now he can't look at her without dropping whatever he's holding."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Roy said.

She sighed. "You're possessive. That's not attractive."

"I'm actually not that possessive," Roy said.

"You threatened James because he held my hand and then you ditched him at his first press conference."

"Well, he looked too comfortable holding your hand."

"You're comfortable holding my hand."

"Yeah, but I know I'm not dangerous."

"James is dangerous?"

"James is—was—a stranger."

"And now he's not?"

"No. Now he's just a wimp."

"He can hit a punching bag."

"Better than you can. I'll give him that."

"Mean."

"My bad."

"God, Roy," she said, looking out at the water. "Why do you have to be so mean?"

Roy kissed her.

There was no slow approach, no steady tactic, no moment where they were lost in each other's eyes and he thought he could see stars in them because he just grabbed her wrist, pulled her close, ducked his head and kissed her, and God, it was perfect. Perhaps it was because she her lips felt so cold against his, or because he could taste her cherry chapstick, or because he had simply been biting his tongue on it for so long, but he felt—for the first time—whole. And his heart picked up rapidly, then slowed down, then picked up again, and if he weren't holding his breath it would have looked like he had heart palpitations. Gemma felt stiff against him for a few seconds, and Roy's heart almost stopped altogether because for a moment it occurred to him that he might have ruined it—whatever they were before this—and she would be too uncomfortable around him to ever lick his face again, or ever call him up again, or ever send him random texts when he was asleep in the middle of the night about rabbits or happy faces or wondering whether or not it was possible to drown in a shower. But then her arms snaked around his neck, and he felt her loosen up, release the shock, and he wrapped his arms around her and scooped her right up and finally, it felt like he'd found a part of him he didn't even know he'd been missing. He felt like home. She felt like home.

At last, she pulled back, and his breaths came up short and quick, like he'd just sprinted a mile, and his heart was pounding again and it wouldn't stop or slow down and he wondered for a moment if she could hear it going THUDTHUDTHUD against his chest.

She blew a puff of cherry scented air into his face. He blinked the mist away.

"You're still mean," she whispered.

"My bad."

She buried her face into his shoulder, and he could feel her swinging her feet—which were probably about a foot off the ground—and Roy smiled to himself as he held her.

"Midget," he said quietly.

"Mean," she said, her voice muffled through his jacket.