A Disarming Annoyance
When Artemis woke up the morning after the Team's rooftop encounter with Nightwing, she was surprisingly well rested.
Sore, but well rested.
M'gann and her had gotten a room across from the male members of the team, partially out of spatial necessity and partially because of gender.
There was nothing wrong with sharing a room with the three men—she'd done it plenty in the past, out of both necessity and convenience—but, if it could be avoided, she'd take that opportunity.
Not only that: but her, Aqualad, and Wally had silently agreed that their Martian/Kryptonian couple, for the sake of the mission, could not be allowed to share a room.
Either they'd end up fighting over something, or doing less…appropriate things if left to their own devices.
The archer slipped off the lumpy couch that'd operated as her bed and pattered over to her small travel suitcase, yanking out her suit and pulling it on in the chilled morning darkness.
As a precaution, she zipped a worn sweater over the top half of her costume. It was unlikely that there'd be any civilians bumbling around, but better safe than sorry.
The door to the bedroom was closed, which meant M'gann either wasn't up yet or had already made her way to the boys' room.
The latter was far more likely, going by the Martian's exhaustion the night before. But Dinah was always telling Artemis to practice her optimism.
A pointless exercise, if you asked her. However, she respected Black Canary enough to keep trying.
She was almost nervous to leave her room. Knowing Wally and Conner, and Kaldur's inability to control the two, they'd probably already blown their cover with Grayson. And somehow burned half the building down in the process.
Fortunately, the hallway wasn't on fire when she stepped into it. The walls looked just as dingily intact as they had upon the team's arrival last night.
That was a good sign, at least.
Raising a fist, she hammered it against their door, discouraged by the lack of movement she heard from the other side.
Then there was a slam, muffled curses, and the sound of a bolt being drawn. The door swung open, revealing a bleary-eyed Wally West.
A bleary-eyed and shirtless Wally West.
Before Artemis had time to process where, exactly, her gaze was going, she was already drinking in the expanse of pale skin.
The question of just where his freckles actually ended—a question Artemis hadn't even realized she'd been asking herself until presented with his naked torso—went unanswered as he proved to be covered in little marks, from the tips of his broad shoulders to the narrowing indent of his navel.
When the silence in the doorway lingered on for a little too long, she saw his tired face suddenly look very, very wide awake. As if he'd only just now remembered the absence of his shirt.
"O-oh, Artemis." He cleared his throat, crossing his bare arms over his—freckled—chest. "I didn't see you there."
Her own voice sounded warbled in her ears when she spoke, like she was gargling with marbles. "The door was closed. Of course you didn't see me."
Was she flushing as bright red as he was? The thought just made her blush even harder. What was wrong with her?
Wally re-crossed his arms, face pulled into a pathetic approximation of his usual smile. "M'gann with you? Pretty sure Conner's going into withdrawals."
At the familiar, joking lilt of his voice, she relaxed somewhat. Now this she could handle; humour was familiar ground with the ginger speedster.
This strange, newfound thirst was definitely not.
"Probably has the shakes already," She added, willfully keeping her eyes fixed on the tip of his nose. Which is also freckled, that foreign voice added in a snide whisper.
Thankfully, another face came into view, this one decidedly darker than Wally's pale visage. "Good morning, Artemis.
"Morning, Kaldur." She gave him a firm nod, noting that he was already wearing his costume. At least he had the decency not to come to the door half-naked.
The speedster looked as relieved as Artemis felt to have a way out of the earlier awkwardness, "I'll go get ready. See you in a flash—"
And then he zipped away, that familiar brace of wind and lightning fluttering the stray curls that escaped her ponytail.
Kaldur frowned, glancing over his head in the direction Wally had disappeared in. "That was…strange."
She smoothed her hair back into place, hoping her cheeks were no longer flushed crimson. "Extremely so."
"Where's M'gann?" A familiarly gruff voice barked out, Conner storming out of the apartment towards them.
Or maybe he wasn't storming. It was kind of hard to tell the difference between his I'm angry walk and his M'gann is an amazing girlfriend I love her so much and therefore must see her now walk.
"She's still in the other room. I didn't see her when I—"
The lovestruck hero didn't bother waiting for her to finish, slipping past Kaldur and marching right across the hall without a backwards glance.
"You're welcome," Artemis muttered under her breath, though the words weren't half as bitter as they would've been several years ago.
She now understood, and respected, that Conner cared for each of them in his own way. It wasn't fair of her to push for more, especially when she herself was still working on relational platonic intimacy.
That being said, she wouldn't hesitate to stick him full of arrows if he ever so much as looked at M'gann the wrong way.
Already well-adjusted to his team's various quirks, Kaldur didn't even blink at Conner's sub-zero attitude. "Would you like to have some breakfast? I made eggs."
She nodded, trailing after him into the other apartment, not in the least bit surprised that overly responsible Kaldur had already made a grocery run.
Last night, upon seeing their rooms for the first time, they'd decided that the boys would get the slightly bigger one due to their increased numbers.
Meaning, the men also got the one next to their target detective.
Forgoing all conversation for the sake of the food in front of her, Artemis sat down on one of the rickety bar stools and tucked in. Kaldur stood quietly beside her, rubbing his chin, what Wally had dubbed his 'thinking face' weighing at the corners of his eyes.
Speak of the devil. The ginger speedster barreled into the counter with a streak of lightning fading behind him, slamming a heaping breakfast onto one of the chipped plates while simultaneously stuffing a piece of toast into his mouth.
He was wearing his brilliantly yellow suit, cowl pulled down and resting around his neck.
"You disgust me," Artemis said in between bites, trying to replicate their usual banter.
She'd been expecting something like his usual love you too, babe response, so the archer was a little surprised when, instead, Wally only crammed even more food into this mouth.
Was he…embarrassed?
The room's door flew open, revealing a listless M'gann and a stoically swollen-lipped Conner.
This is why they couldn't have nice things. Soon as those two were left unsupervised, they started making out.
The Martian was literally floating a few inches off the ground, tethered only by Superboy's hold on her hand as he pulled her towards one of the empty stools.
Did anyone even care about their League assigned mission anymore?
Artemis groaned, rolling her eyes so hard she was sure they'd fall out of their sockets.
"Hi, guys," The red head chirped, breezing by and shamelessly plopping into Conner's lap. "How'd you all sleep?"
"Great, sweetcheeks." Wally shot her a disgustingly full of food grin, "How 'bout you? Conner withdrawal didn't keep you up, right?"
The Martian merely smiled, leaning back against her boyfriend's wide chest before answering. "I had a wonderful sleep."
Artemis decided now was the perfect time for an intervention. "Did you make contact with the target last night?"
"Jeez, Arty." Wally scooped up some more breakfast, forgoing a stool altogether and plopping up on the counter, distractingly long legs swinging back and forth.
She hated (read: loved) how he just couldn't seem to stand still.
"You make it sound like we're planning an assassination," He continued, "Just call the guy by his name."
"Richard Grayson-Wayne, ward of Bruce Wayne, next in line for the Wayne family enterprise." Artemis had heard the mantra tossed around Gotham streets enough that it now seemed familiar, taking up permanent space in her memory.
"But he prefers Dick," Wally added. She didn't even have to look up to know he was grinning as he said it.
"I have heard of him before," Kaldur added in, still stroking his chin like some wizened old monk. "Bruce Wayne gives a monthly donation to the League."
"That's right!" M'gann snapped her now-pale fingers together. She usually didn't stay green in public places, especially when they were trying to remain incognito. "I see him on TV all the time. He thinks vigilantes are a disgrace."
Artemis couldn't withhold her scoff. "That's probably just parrot-talk. Someone who has the entire United States judicial system in his back pocket's likely never even seen theBatman."
"I thought that was the point of Batman," The Martian said softly, "to take down those protected by politics and fame. The people the Justice League can't touch."
"No. Batman's a tyrant. He talks big about upholding the law, 'protecting' the little people," Artemis made air-quotes with her fingers, then stabbed her breakfast with more force than was strictly necessary. "But has zero responsibility. He could be taking bribes, aiding the underground, staging his own rescues. And we would never know."
Kaldur cleared his throat, likely hoping to avoid further argument. "For now, we are to consider him a threat. And, based on our interactions with the Nightwing last night, we should extend the same mindset to him as well."
"He didn't seem very threatening," M'gann said contemplatively.
"The guy literally held a knife to your neck. And choked us out with a smoke bomb," Wally gave her an incredulous stare, "How could you possibly not find him threatening?"
The Martian shrugged, apparently unaware of the way her boyfriend's fingers were tightening around his fork. Evidently he didn't like the vigilante any more than Artemis did. "He seemed nice."
Deciding that they'd gotten a little off topic—and hoping to distract Conner before he put a hole in the wall—she steered them back onto the subject at hand, "So, did you make contact last night?"
"Jeez, yeah, we talked to him. One track mind, much?" The speedster shot her one of his speciality smiles, the kind that made her physically sick.
That is, if the strange fluttering sensation in the pit of her stomach counted as a sickness. She suspected it meant something else entirely, something she didn't have the time nor patience to think through right now.
"Please tell me you didn't blow our cover," She said instead.
"Oh, no." He snorted, waving one hand in a dismissive motion. "We were super subtle. Like, I don't think he was suspicious at all."
"He slammed the door in our faces," Conner said in his usual morose deadpan, "then gave me a towel."
Artemis blinked. Needless to say, she felt like there were a few crucial details missing from his story. "I'm sorry, what?"
Kaldur, heaving a bone-weary brand of sigh, took up the narrative, "Conner said Grayson wasn't asleep when we got back, so we decided to get the initial introductions over with."
"And he closed the door in your faces?" Artemis prompted, still patchy about how they went from slamming doors to thrifted towels.
"He did not look happy to see us," Kaldur remarked. "But he did let us in. Wally introduced us, then Conner asked for a towel. His apartment was in a state of disarray and he seemed tired, so we didn't stay for long."
"I can't believe you just…" She rubbed at the nape of her neck, already feeling stress physically manifesting there despite the still-early hour. "I guess that's one way to meet our neighbour."
"He wasn't a complete stuck-up," Wally smiled, freckled cheeks dimpling at the motion.
Gosh, she hated him. He was such an idiot.
So why couldn't she look away?
"He was rude," Conner muttered in his usual blunt manner. "But I liked him."
Artemis shook off her Wally-induced stupor and pushed back from the counter, controlling her expression so it remained neutral.
She already new Richard Wayne was a brat. An entitled, spoiled brat who'd had his entire life handed to him on a silver platter.
All the anger she thought she'd handled—all that hot red hatred—flared to life at the thought that one person, who hadn't worked a day in their golden life, got everything while kids in the slums of Gotham sold their bodies for food.
She'd seen the Narrows; she'd walked the alleys at night; she'd fended off the city's darkest characters, their groping hands. And what had the Waynes done? Dropped a few bills? Held a few charities?
Such disregard for human life disgusted her.
The archer pulled her green mask out and slipped it over her eyes, hoping it would help disguise the likely vitriol expression on her face. "We should head out."
She felt so much as saw Kaldur and Wally exchange a concerned glance behind her back, the speedster's usually go-lucky expression surprisingly solemn.
"Well?" The blonde snapped, turning around and fixing each of them with a glare. She already knew she was going to regret this relapse in temper later, but right now she couldn't care less. "I thought we were supposed to be at the station early?"
Kaldur nodded, slowly rising to his feet and fixing her with a pitiless stare. "Artemis is right."
His matter-of-fact tone eased her tepid mood only slightly. She'd always appreciated how he viewed her as an equal; as someone who was worthy of respect, not sympathy or fake smiles.
Unfortunately, it did little to tide the growing and directionless anger slowly building beneath her skin.
"Alright," M'gann's voice was chipper as ever. "I'll wake up the bioship. She was a bit tired after last night."
Artemis was about to follow Aqualad, Conner, and M'gann out the door, when she felt a single finger slip onto her wrist.
Whirling around, she yanked her hand back, a snarl already slipping in place when—
When she saw that it was Wally, a sheepish grin not doing much to blanket the worry in his eyes.
"Don't touch me." She snapped, ignoring the way her heart stuttered fearfully in her chest at the unexpected contact. "What do you want?"
He cast a pointed glance at the motley crew by the door, who were watching them with wide eyes. "You guys go ahead, me and Arty need to talk."
Artemis didn't bother turning around again to see how their teammates reacted. She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed the speedster with a glare, "What?"
"I'll ask you next time."
She paused, confused, her glare loosening into a frown. "Excuse me?"
"I'll ask you next time. Before touching you, that is." He continued on, as if this were a completely normal conversation to be having. "I'll always ask."
That took the wind out of her sails completely, and she sagged into a looser stance. Every bone in her body was telling her she should be tensed, battle ready, so why was she relaxing?
Why was he so disarming?
"Okay," There was no bite in her voice when she answered. "What'd you want to talk about?"
His serious expression tipped upwards into that familiar smile. "Nothing. It just looked like you needed a minute to gather your thoughts."
He was absolutely right, and Artemis absolutely hated how easily he could read her. It was terrible and vulnerable and….and nice.
As she followed him to the door, she muttered under her breath. "You know I hate you, right?"
He laughed, annoyingly brilliant green eyes twinkling at her. "I know you do."
But they both knew she was lying, for she'd been smiling when she said it.
A/N): It wouldn't be a VJ update at this point if it wasn't late, eh?
Special thanks to clairegoodloe, IAMAMAYAN, EveningSongEnchantment, Loftcat27, Hamato-Grayson, Shiranai Atsune, Guest, and Royz for the reviews! Y'all are so awesome and encouraging 3333
What'd you think of Artemis' pining? Like I'm pretty sure when she wasn't pining™she was very angry™
Thanks for reading, everybody! Hope you have a fantastic day wherever you are :D
Stay safe!
~ASL