Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans.

Coyote – Chapter 13

Bart rested his hand on his chin as he watched Beast Boy furiously stuffing a change of clothes into a worn backpack. He gazed around the bedroom as he leafed through an insect field guide at super-speed. The room was stacked high with such books, most with dog-eared pages and broken spines. Well, he certainly does his homework, Bart mused as he sat the book back down on the unmade bed. His brain fairly hummed with the new images of beetles, flies, and wasps that he had just memorized. Never know when B.B. might need a refresher course in the field.

Bart's finger lightly traced the corner of the book. "Superboy told me about the paparazzi that chased you on your first date. Any sign of the pics?"

Gar sniffed a shirt before cringing and discarding it. "Not yet. Not even a peep on Superheroes Tonight. Which is a good thing. She'd be mortified if..." His thought drifted off as he buried his head into one of his closets.

"Why do you have two closets?" Bart asked. "Nobody else has them."

His green friend pointed into the closet in front of him. "This one is for uniforms and adjustables. The other is for non-adjustables. Don't want to get them mixed up."

"Adjustables?"

"Yeah. I've got two sets of clothes. Dayton Industries weaves the fabric that I use in my uniforms. They've made stuff for me since my Doom Patrol days. They made some for my mom, too. You know, Elasti-Girl, so her clothes would grow taller with her. Those guys also make some street clothes out of it for me, 'cause, you never know when I might need to transform into something when I'm not in official uniform."

"Why the other clothes, then? Why not have all your clothes made out of it?"

Gar picked up the map from his bed and began folding it. The back panel bore the label "Twilight Canyon" in bold blue letters. A route was marked in green highlighter across the page. His words flowed quickly as he re-checked the contents of his bag. "They only make certain 'extras' for me. They're big Weird Al fans, so they makes lots of Hawaiian shirts, jeans, shoes, stuff like that. If I want a suit coat or anything special, I have to go buy it myself. But I do have to remember when I'm wearing what." He nudged the loose pile of magazines next to his bed with his toe. "I'm not much of a neatnik, but I am very picky about sorting my clothes. Putting the non-adjustable clothes in the adjustables closet could prove to be very embarrassing later. But between you, me, and the tower, all of my tightey-whiteys and boxers are made of the stuff. Can't have the ladies swooning from my greatness if I get caught with my pants down. Which works except -- "

"Except when you go commando?"

"Uh, yeah. Like on laundry day." He slid on one purple boot under the pair of jeans. "Uniform slips under must clothes pretty well anyway. And I always take adjustables when I travel."

"That explains a lot. I always wondered why sometimes your clothes, um, adjusted, and sometimes you just came out of them. And sometimes we see your, uh, greatness anyway. Did you tell Raven about all this?"

"Hey, we're not at the stage where we're discussing our underwear yet, ok? Or my greatness. Let's just leave it at that."

"But you're always chasing around like a ladies' man, thought you were a little faster than that."

"Hey, this is Raven we're talking about, dude. Have a little respect."

Bart snorted at him. "So, why are you going to go find her? If she was in trouble, wouldn't she just tele—I mean, move through the dimensions home?"

Gar fastened the straps on the pack. "Every time we thought that in the past, we were dead wrong. And being wrong about that got us all in trouble. No. I've got to assume that if she hasn't come back yet, it's because she can't. For whatever reason, she can't."

"And that's what worries you."

"Yeah. Look, it takes a lot of energy to do what she does. Jumping a few miles for her is like me running a fifty-yard dash. The farther she goes or the more people she carries, the harder it is on her. If she's not in any shape to run, she's probably too hard up to phase. Make sense?"

"Sure. You just wanna make sure she's ok. Never thought about that before. I've asked a lot of questions about her powers, but not that. Why'd she tell you?"

"She talks to me now. She didn't really talk to anybody before, except maybe –"

"Wally?" Bart's ears perked up as he said his own cousin's name.

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"Hmph," Bart replied, some hidden meaning lurking behind his eyes. "She told you that, and you haven't told her about your magic underwear?"

"We're getting to that. Don't rush us."

"So how are you getting out there?" Bart pointed to the map. "Vic's got the jet down for maintenance."

"I know. Curious timing on that, ya think?"

"Why do you need to search for her? Can't you just use some mapping software or something with his address?"

"Cyborg won't give it to me. And I've searched for his address on the net, too. Unlisted. This guy is thorough. I'll just have to start at the canyon and work my way out from there."

"Won't give it to you? Does he still think you're suffering from Love Potion Number Nine or something?"

"Yup." He yanked on the straps of the backpack harder than he really needed to. "Thinks I'll make up anything just to get to her. He doesn't think she's in trouble. But I'm going anyway."

"Do you wanna lift? I can carry you if you turn into something small. You'd be out there in no time. I'd like to help."

"Anything for a fellow Stair Luge Samurai, huh?" Gar picked up the tiny seashell from his dresser and tucked it into the side pocket of his duffle.

Bart grinned. "Sure. I am the Shogun, after all. I just need to know what direction you want to go in. I'd need to get back right away, though. Got some – uh – research that I need to do."

(break)(break)

A/N: I just wanted to explain why sometimes his clothes go with and sometimes they don't.

Also, the references to the Stair Luge Samurai come from my one-shot story, "Stair Luge Samurai".

And I am really starting to like using Bart as a character.