HELLO, LOVELIES. DID YOU MISS ME? WELL, I MISSED YOU SO.

Guess who is back in Edisto? That's right: THIS GIRL. I'm not on Turtle Patrol this weekend unfortunately (yup the Loggerheads are STILL hatching). I'm just here for a little renewal and relaxation with my family :) So, I had time to type this up and post it! Hope you guys enjoy it! Kid Flash, disclaimer please?

Kid: You know the drill.

Ugh. I really hate you.

Kid: Nah, you love me.

Not at the moment.

Kid: Go on!

This time it's Kyoya Ootori from Ouran High School Host Club (one of my girlier anime obsessions but I think I make up for it with my love for Attack on Titan).

Kid: Oy. Crazy. On the brink of otaku.

I am not. Trust me. I am not.

Kid: ANYWAY, We'reAllALittleMadHere does not own Teen Titans.

*want* ;_;

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hey, bitch!"

I ducked just in time to dodge a swing from one of the masked men occupying the bank then brought my elbow swiftly up into his gut. He gave a muffled "oof" and bent over with his arms wrapped around his middle. I giggled creepily at his pain. He growled as he backed off and took a light stance, bouncing on his toes with his fists rising to guard his face.

Boxer, eh?

I copied his position, fists raised, daintily bounding up and down. What can I say? I'm a fast learner.

He laughed and called out as he began to circle me, "You really wanna go there, girly? I thought you were a little acrobat. You can't throw a punch; you just do useless flips and shit."

My brow furrowed and I approached him, throwing the first punch, expecting his forearm when it blocked my little fist. I lashed out again with the other hand, my knuckles meeting his lower arm once again. I huffed in frustration and returned my fists to guard my face. I was backed up against a wall but I kept up my bravado.

The burglar cocked his head at me, using my own techniques of psychology against me. He was trying to mess with my mind by utilizing the creepy Joker mask that hid his identity. Too bad I have a voodoo doll of the Joker stuck full of pins in my bedroom.

Damn, I hope Gizmo hasn't found that thing…Joker would flip and then murder me…

The thought broke my concentration for a split second, giving the man an opening. I attempted to block his oncoming fist with my forearm just as he had done but a quick calculation of his strength changed my mind instantly. Instead, I dodged by bending my knees and leaning slightly to the left, his fist slicing past my right ear. It was a close call but it was better than having my arm shattered by his brute force. There was no way I could take a direct hit from this guy; at least, not without minor to significant injury.

He drew his arm back into his chest and I resumed my position again. He was much too close for comfort now but there wasn't enough room for me to do a backhand spring away from him. I cast a quick glance at the wall a few feet behind me while I ducked another swing from the criminal. His left arm swung wide over my head and I smirked at his mistake; he'd left his gut wide open again.

I brought my right fist up into his stomach, satisfied with the strangled noise the man made. I left my fist in his middle and grabbed a handful of his black shirt, then swung myself around his body to kneel on his back as he bent over. However, as soon as he felt my knees dig into his shoulder blades he straightened and wildly flung his arms in every direction in an attempt to unseat me. I tightened my grip on the back of his shirt and vaulted myself onto his shoulders, landing on my shins with a soft thud.

I squeezed my thighs together around the man's head and placed my hands over the eye slits of his mask. I laughed gaily while he stumbled around, flailing his arms in a desperate array. He almost tripped over his own feet at one point but reached out with one arm to lean against the wall, nearly slamming me into it in the process. I stuck my hand out and pushed away having decided that I'd had enough fun with this one.

In one fluid motion, I placed my hands on the criminal's crown and swung my legs forward to cross at the ankles in front of his chest so that I rode him piggyback. I summoned a hex and noted yet another masked man at the far end of the room. This one was thin and probably easy to knock over. I aimed at him carefully and smiled wickedly. In one short blast, the hex left my fingers as I arched my back and gave a nasty tug with my legs. The force of the spell and my body's simultaneous launch into a back flip caused the man I was sitting atop of to follow my motions. His body flew over mine, my ankles still locked around his neck.

As the back flip neared its finish I loosened my legs and let his shoulders slide away. While I landed firmly on my feet in a crouch above his back, he ended up face down with a loud crack of breaking ribs and possibly his forehead. My feet were on either side of his neck, my knees shaking from the harsh landing.

I braced myself on my fingertips and laughed breathily, "Yup. Flips and shit."

I stood abruptly when the loud pops of a machine gun echoed through the large room. The bank lobby was huge with a dome ceiling made of glass (which I hoped was bulletproof) and steel beams. The tiled floor was usually a spotless white but was now splattered with blood from the guy beneath me and from other men I'd managed to take out who now lay in random spots around the lobby. The thin guy I'd aimed at earlier had a large gash in his stomach from my hex; blood splatter sprayed along the white wall he was propped up against. I winced and made mental note to control my energy better next time. One man was lying amidst the shattered pieces of a potted plant with a large palm frond covering his face. Another had passed out with the side of his face on the tiled floor, bent at the waist over a coffee table. There was a knife piercing the wooden table through the hem of his jacket between his legs. He'd fainted when I'd threatened to neuter him with his own pocketknife.

More shots resounded into the front lobby and I registered the faint laugh of Kid Flash as he teased the criminal. I jogged over to the door behind one of the tellers' abandoned granite counters to peer into the backroom, cautiously poking my head around the corner.

The last guy was grasping a large black duffel bag in one hand and an M-16 in the other with his back facing me. My eyes were drawn to a flash of red and yellow and I smirked when Kid rushed by the man, unzipping the duffel and removing several bills, proceeding to shower them over the criminal. The masked man twitched and waved his gun around before firing a few random shots into the walls, completely missing Kid Flash. I giggled and turned away from the scene; Kid Flash had this guy under control. Plus, we both deserved a little playtime after that robbery. We may be heroes but we still like to play with our food.

My combat boots echoed heavily in the lobby as I strolled around the tellers' counter and casually trailed my finger along the granite pillar next to it. My eyes darted from one unconscious criminal to another, counting and eventually coming up with the number fifteen. I placed a hand on my waist and stuck out my hip. It would take a while to drag them all into one spot.

I suddenly recalled the first encounter Kid Flash and I had had with the Joker masks; hadn't a sniper picked all of the men off?

Shit.

I grit my teeth and scurried over to the nearest criminal, checking his pulse and examining his body for any bullet wounds though I doubted this sniper fellow would go for anywhere but the head. It's a quick way to shut the pawn up.

I found the man's heart still beating steadily, so I hooked my elbows beneath his armpits and started hauling him back to the tellers' desk. I figured it was the safest spot in the bank excluding the backroom, which was currently occupied.

I tried my best to ignore the way the guy's head lolled against my chest. This one was a mess. I tugged him across the room slowly as I muttered curses under my breath about my skinny little arms and legs. My new prisoner was well built with leanly muscled biceps and a defined chest. He was tall with sturdy legs and broad shoulders making him all the heavier to drag.

What the fuck, Jinx?

I pinned up my exhaustion to the previous fight and continued my vain attempt to reach the tellers' desk. I distracted myself by trying to recall how I had taken this guy out in the first place. Glancing up at his original spot I felt a smile tugging on the corners of my mouth as I recognized the orange couch and the iron frying pan tossed carelessly beside it. This was the flirtatious criminal.

He wasn't the first "smooth criminal" (A/N: OMR WTF WHY DID I JUST SAY THAT) I'd encountered but he was definitely the most memorable. He'd been skilled in hand-to-hand combat, simply laughing when I asked him where he had hidden his weapons. He replied that he didn't need weapons to take down a "pretty young thing" like me. The preceding fight had impressed me but it was also filled with nicknames like "baby doll," "pretty lady," and "cutie." I had initially ignored the names but Kid Flash had obviously taken note of them. The spar was over when a bright blur zipped past wielding a large frying pan. With that, the flirtatious burglar was out cold and I was out of a challenging fight.

Where the hell did Kid get a frying pan anyway?

I huffed, finally rounding the corner of the desk. I set the guy down, leaving his ankles out in the open, vulnerable to the mysterious sniper who was no doubt observing the entire scene.

Mr. Weaponless can talk even if he can't walk, right?

I scooted over to kneel next the guy's head, jumping a little when he moaned suddenly. I froze as he shifted a little, careful not to touch him until he'd fallen back into the oblivion of unconsciousness again. He muttered something but eventually drifted off. His temple leaned against my kneecap.

I worked quickly and silently as I slipped the strap of his Joker mask off and then lifted it away to reveal his face. I set the plastic mask at my side, observing my new captive.

He was attractive, to say the least, with a smooth complexion and lovely tan coloring. His bottom lip was full and tinted red with blood from an old cut that must have reopened when Kid Flash hit him with the frying pan. He had a strong chin but it was paired with a button nose so that his features were almost boyish instead of manly like the rest of his body. He had long thick eyelashes and I watched them flutter as his eyeballs rolled around inside his head. I smirked when one of his eyelids slit open lazily along the bottom; he must have big eyes.

I examined his square jaw and angular cheekbones and almost ran a hand through his hair when I pulled off his hat and found thick jet-black curls crowning his head. The little ringlets looked soft and silky as they fell away from the black beanie. I hummed in appreciation.

A window shattered suddenly, followed by a dull smack. The broken glass tinkled as it twirled in midair, the noise akin to that of a wind chime. The pleasant chiming was cut short when the glass hit the floor, crashing against the tile with a tremendous smash.

Okay, so the glass isn't bulletproof…

Who the hell designed this bank?

Several other windows shattered all in rapid succession; each was preceded by a muffled smack, which I assumed was the bullet hitting the target's forehead. I bent over my knees and crushed the heels of my hands to my ears, trying to block out the incredible racket. I cast a guilty look down at the criminal's ankles and wondered if I should pull them in behind the counter. I groaned and gripped the fabric of the guy's right pant leg. I yanked his knee up to a bent position then proceeded to do the same for the other leg.

I huddled again before glancing up at the glass dome above, which now sported a dangerous crack that branched out in hundreds of tiny tendrils. I frowned at it and considered dragging my captive further away from this chaos into the backroom but the sharp pops of the M-16 still emanated from the open doorway. I wondered why Kid Flash was taking his sweet old time with the guy.

Windows continued to shatter as the sniper outside let all hell loose into the lobby. I muttered a few choice curses at him under my breath and tried to slow my heart rate down.

Another round of machine gun shots rang out from the backroom but they were suddenly cut short. I barely registered a muffled choke before a light breeze zipped past me and into the lobby; the trigger-happy sniper continued to fill the bank with bullets.

"Kid! Don't you dare get shot!" I yelled at him from behind the counter, hoping he could hear me through the deafening noise of bullets and breaking glass.

He answered me with a light laugh from somewhere to my left, "You should have more faith in me! You ever heard the term 'faster than a speeding bullet?''

I rolled my eyes.

Now he was just showing off.

Not a second after this happened, the bullets stopped abruptly and the last remnants of the windows crashed to the floor. Glass flew in every direction and I heard a loud thud. Kid cry out sharply. Without thinking I popped my head up behind the counter and frantically searched the lobby for any sign of him. I caught sight of a yellow blur and in a split second was shoved to the floor. Kid landed on top of me as a round black hole branded itself in the wall where my head had been. My heart skipped a beat when I realized what might have happened.

Kid was physically shaking, one arm wrapping around my waist and the other cushioning the back of my head. His face was buried in my neck with his legs straddling mine; I would have enjoyed this position had I not almost been shot to death.

"Don't scare me like that." Kid slumped over me and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I shut my eyes and snaked my arms around Kid to rest the tips of my fingers on his shoulder blades, holding him.

"I'm sorry."

And that was it. No crying or hysteria. We just made silent promises and held each other until we felt satisfied that our points were made. Don't be reckless. Don't worry about me.

After a few moments of heavy breathing and shaking hands Kid sat up and let me out from under him. I leaned against the counter while he sat back against the wall, examining a large wound on his side. His spandex was ripped to shreds all along his right leg, side, and arm; he must have fallen and slid through some broken glass at some point. He winced when he moved some material out of the way to get at a large piece of bloodied glass sticking out of one of the cuts. I looked away when he pulled it out, trying hard not to cry.

That wound was my fault. If I weren't around him, he would never have gotten hurt. I was bad luck for him and I wasn't good for him. In the end, it would only get him killed. And now I had feelings for him. I'd let myself go and now I was paying for it.

Shit.

I fingered the cloth of my black costume, soaked with his blood. I bit my lip and eventually the metallic taste of my own blood filled my mouth. I swallowed it, too ashamed to spit it out and paint a weak picture of myself in front of Kid and the world that couldn't see me.

SO WHAT DID YOU THINK? I LOVE REVIEWS GUYS SO KEEP 'EM COMIN' :D PLUS I'M ONE REVIEW AWAY FROM 100.

I LOVE YOU ALL HAVE A FANTASTIC EVENING.