Saturn's Hikari - Better add a (d) and an (e) to your list of Richie-angst stuff. A hint of one in this chappie, but I'm holding the other surprise for the next chapter or two. Thanks for the review, and if I get into a plot pickle, I'll send you a distress signal!

Webskitune - Thanks! I think Hotstreak is a very interesting character. I'm drafting a ficcie about him as well.

Estel Baggins - Thank you. This story is flowing pretty well, so I expect to finish it within the next two or three weeks. Stay tuned.

EyesLikeSilk - That's a great compliment, thank you. Static Shock is actually the first time I saw this character, but he really made an impression. Let me know if I don't keep him true.

Disclaimer - Don't own Static or Justice League characters. Just borrowing them.

This semester Virgil and Richie only had first period together, but they always found one another during lunch. That's why noontime found an impatient Virgil waiting for Richie near the entrance to the lunchroom. Virgil finally saw his friend shuffling down the hallway, head down and oblivious to the surrounding babble of a hundred hungry teenagers.

"Bro, where you been? We've got, like, ten minutes before next period."

Virgil's question startled Richie, who seemed surprised that someone was actually speaking to him.

"I called home to tell Mom I had detention tonight. There was no answer so I had to call Dad at work."

Virgil's eyes widened. He knew that Mr. Foley would have been angry twice over. One, that he had been disturbed at work and two, that Richie had gotten into trouble again. He placed a hand on Richie's shoulder. When Richie stilled under his touch, he released his hold and patted Richie's arm instead.

"Tough break, man. What'd he say?"

Richie snorted and adjusted his glasses. "What didn't he say! Idiot, lazy, wasting his valuable time. The usual." Richie must have realized how harsh those words sounded. He pasted on a bright smile that failed to reach his eyes and said, "C'mon, I'm starving. I missed breakfast this morning."

A frown touched Virgil's handsome face as he followed his friend into the cafeteria. As they made their way through the line, he contemplated the life of his best friend.

Virgil knew that Richie's home life left much to be desired. Mrs. Foley was a, well, Virgil wasn't sure what is was she did exactly, but she was almost never at home during school hours; at least, she never answered the phone. And Virgil knew for a fact that Richie had to get himself up every morning and make his own breakfast.

He remembered when Richie spent the night at his house for the very first time. It was a Thursday, and their science class was leaving for a field trip early the next morning. Rather than chance missing the bus, Richie stayed with Virgil.

At five AM on Friday morning, the boys were roused from their sleep by the aroma of pancakes, sausage, and hot chocolate. Richie could scarcely believe that not only was Virgil's dad awake to see them off, but Sharon had also gotten up and prepared breakfast for everyone. The food was terrible, but Richie cleaned his plate and wore a silly grin for the rest of the day.

Later, he confided to Virgil that that breakfast -- one of hundreds, even thousands that Virgil had taken for granted with his family -- was the first that Richie could remember sharing with someone. His parents were either asleep, hung over, or at work when he got up for school and he slept late on weekends; he had always fended for himself. Virgil envisioned a five- or six-year-old Richie struggling to pour milk on his cereal, his little arms quivering with effort as he tried to be quiet and not make a mess.

Virgil made sure that Richie stayed over more often and clued Dad and Sharon in on what Richie had said. Thereafter, whenever he stayed in the Hawkins' household, Richie always had breakfast with the family.

Virgil turned his thoughts to Mr. Foley. How that man hated Virgil! He knew he was a source of tension between Richie and his father. About two months after he and Richie had become friends, he stopped by the Foley house to drop off a CD Richie had asked to borrow. Mr. Foley met him at the door, took one look at him, and immediately decided that Virgil was a gang member. He accused Virgil, in front of the neighbors and at the top of his lungs, of stealing the CD and trying to corrupt his son. Virgil never went back to that house again.

Richie had been embarrassed and ashamed the next morning at school and stuttered an apology. Virgil immediately hugged his friend and assured him that he didn't blame Richie for his father's actions. Virgil offered to stop hanging around with Richie if that would help his home situation. He felt guilty as he remembered the horror in Richie's eyes as he made the suggestion.

Richie had grabbed him by both shoulders and said, "No way, V! No way! That man may have control of my life right now, but I decide who my friends are. You are my best friend, V. Please don't let him take you away from me, too." Virgil had quickly reassured the frightened blonde. The fear in Richie's eyes had unsettled him. Had Mr. Foley driven off others that Richie had tried to befriend?

The one other time that Virgil had seen Mr. Foley was when the man had to pick Richie up one day after school last year. He had smelled like alcohol, and Virgil had attempted to invite Richie over to his house so that his friend wouldn't get in the car with his dad. Mr. Foley completely ignored him and dragged Richie away. He overheard him snarling at Richie for not turning in his homework and forcing him to come to a parent-teacher conference. The next morning, Richie had come to school with bruises. Richie insisted that he had tripped over his book bag and fell down the stairs.

It made Virgil's heart hurt to think about Richie's home life, especially in comparison with his own. Sure, Virgil's mother was gone, but at least he had a loving, caring protector in his father and Sharon really wasn't that bad of a sister. Richie had no one.

'He has me,' thought Virgil, 'and I am never gonna leave him.'

The object of his musing was currently slumped over lumpy mashed potatoes and something that might be meatloaf. Virgil munched on a turkey sandwich and watched Richie make like Richard Dreyfuss in Close Encounters. His partner's face was a mask, offering no hint of what he was feeling.

Virgil wondered when was the last time he had seen Richie smile, truly smile. It disturbed him when he thought back over the last several weeks. The last smile was… God, was it before they discovered Brainiac had escaped the Watchtower? When they took the picture with the Justice League? It was a patented Richard Foley smile in that picture. Had it been so long? Christmas held smiles and laughter, but were they forced? Virgil thought that maybe they had been.

He wished he could do something to bring happiness back to Richie. He loved it when Richie smiled, those great big ear-to-ear grins that made his eyes sparkle like Richie was the one with the electric charge. There was also the smile when he was doing something mischievous, or at least thinking about doing something mischievous, and these huge dimples appeared seemingly out of nowhere. His favorite Richie-smiles, though, were the shy ones when he was being praised, usually by Virgil. Richie would dip his head and big blue eyes would peek up at him under thick little-boy lashes, a soft smile of pleasure on his lips and a blush to his cheeks. That one made Virgil weak in the knees and made his heart beat afaster. When Richie smiled like that, he was beautiful.

Whoa.

His science teacher would be proud. Using the scientific method, Virgil tested the theory that a solid is not a good substitute for a gas. Richie rewarded his friend by pounding him sharply on the back, thereby dislodging the non-atmospheric mass of turkey, mustard, and bread that the young hero had been choking on.

"You OK there, V?" The concern was evident in Richie's voice.

"Yeah, thanks Rich. You really saved the day. My hero!"

There it was. THE smile. And, right on time, there went Virgil's knees followed quickly by an adrenaline rush that made him light-headed.

Virgil allowed Richie to cluck over him as they left the lunchroom. He used his near choking as an excuse to lean against his blond friend and was pleased when Richie wrapped an arm around him. A rush of warmth spread from the points of contact throughout his body.

'I think I'm in trouble,' was Virgil's last thought before Richie left him at the door to his next class.