AN: This is my attempt at a fluffier story than my usual, but since I am incapable of writing pure fluff, it's more like buttercream that hasn't been mixed enough: sweet, yet just the touch of gritty

Disclaimer: I only own the characters that you do not recognize and therefore earn me no money. All others belong to Cartoon Network/ DC Comics

Normality

Tongue clenched between her teeth in concentration, Artemis worked deftly, wrist steady and fingers nimble, taking great care to complete the delicate task.

The hair tie snapped in half.

"Ugh!" Frustrated, she kicked the limp elastic across the living room floor.

"Got some trouble with that mane of yours?" her dad asked.

"I just need better bands."

"Mhmm. Maybe you're just putting too much effort into prettying yourself up for your boyfriend."

"I have no boyfriend," she snapped with a huff. "And I'm not prettying myself up, I am trying to ensure that I am not distracted tonight."

"Right, of course."

"I am! How would you feel if I'm in the middle of the field, in the middle of a critical shot, and all of a sudden, my vision is obstructed? What then, huh?"

"You know, I really thought it was your sister who was the one for the dramatics. Besides, there's nothing wrong with a little crush."

"Dad, stop!" Even in her own ears, she heard the whine. "I do not have a crush on Cam!"

"Oh, yeah, okay. That's why you got so excited when I told you him and Icicle were joining us."

Bristling, Artemis retreated to grab another hair tie, unable to counter her father's point. Icicle and Junior were in Gotham to work with Mr. Freeze, and their schedule overlapped with a Shadow recognizance job that could be done by her and her dad but was simplified with allies. Her dad had told her last night, and she couldn't keep the enthusiasm at bay. It had been less than two months since they'd worked with the Icicles, and when she typically got to see Cam only a few times a year, it was hard not to relish every opportunity.

Returning, perfecting her ponytail as she did so, she told her dad, "You know, the more you make fun of me now, the more you'll have to pay when I actually start liking boys."

"Oh?"

"Yup. I'll date guys with lip piercings and tattoos. Face tattoos."

"The absolute horror."

Not quite a strong enough reaction, she opted for a different approach: "Or maybe I'll date a cape. There is that new archer sidekick in Star City."

Clutching his hand to his chest, her dad countered, "Too far, Baby Girl. If there was ever a chance that Yankee Doodle dumbass would become my son-in-law, I'd hang myself."

A shrill ringing reverberated: his burner phone, the number of which only close associates knew.

Reaching into his pocket, her dad pulled it out and answered, "Hello?" A momentary pause. "Joar? Wait, wait, slow down, just…" Eyes narrowing, mouth pressing into a thin line, he glanced at his daughter, then muttered, "Hold on a minute, alright?"

Artemis watched him go to his room, suddenly nauseous. They already had a safehouse arranged, a time set, there was no need for Icicle to call, and from the look on her dad's face, his responses, they weren't reviewing final details. Between Batman and the plethora of criminals, from low-level to outright deranged, something could have gone seriously wrong with their prior engagement.

Startled by a door closing, Artemis turned her attention to her dad, but before she could even ask, he said, "Change of plans: you and Cam are staying here tonight."

"What? Why? What's wrong? Is Cam okay? Did he get hurt?"

"No, no, nothing like that. Jeez, take a breath, you're raising my blood pressure. Joar is just being precautious. Paranoid, really." Face growing serious, he continued, "The Boyhood Butcher is in the city. I'll spare you the graphic details of how he got his moniker, but whatever you're imaging, it's worse. Cam's in his target demographic, which alone wouldn't be enough for him to be attacked, but the Butcher has a vendetta against Joar: they fought a while back during a job, and he got messed up pretty good. Tonight, he made it clear he knows the two of them are here, and he wants revenge. Joar got wind of it through the villain grapevine. Now, the threat he left was in the Narrows, so he probably doesn't know exactly where in Gotham they are, but Joar does not want to risk it."

"He threatened Cam?" It took a few tries to even speak, her throat had gone so dry.

"It was directed at Joar, but he'd go through Cam to do it. Not that it matters because he will not get the opportunity to act."

"But why here?"

"Back in the day, before the Butcher earned his nickname, he did some freelance work with the Shadows. Got blacklisted for…deviating from the task at hand and drawing unnecessary attention, but he's going to have some decent knowledge of the safehouses. It's less risky for you guys to stay than to travel there." Heading into the kitchen, he continued, "So you get to have a nice little date night with your not crush."

"You aren't funny!"

Ignoring her, he rummaged through a drawer and grabbed a takeout menu from the hole-in-the-wall pizza shop a few blocks away. "Plain?"

"Please. And fries."

"You don't need fries."

"We're growing children!"

"Empty calories," he countered, punching the number in their house phone.

"Growing. Children."

"Yes, hello, delivery order for a large plain pizza." With a pointed look at his youngest, he continued, "And a large order of fries."

A fist pumped in triumph, Artemis headed to her room, swapping her black jeans and sweater for sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt while fighting to ignore the concern churning low in her stomach. As happy as she was to get to spend the night with Cam, just them, kids and not soldiers, she couldn't help but worry that her father was downplaying the situation. Joar didn't seem like the kind to scare easily, and for him to react so strongly had her convinced the Butcher's threat was more tangible than her dad was suggesting.

The emergency knife she kept in her nightstand was tucked snuggly into her waistband, just in case.

Minutes after the delivery boy came and went, Joar and Cam arrived. The thirteen-year-old bounded inside, duffle bag under his arm, grinning broadly, while his father entered much more subdued, jaw set tightly. "Are all the windows locked?" he asked, dropping his bag on the floor.

"They're always locked." Lawrence pulled his daughter into a one-armed hug. "Besides, Crocks know how to handle themselves. Nothing to worry about."

"Easy for you to say." It was little more than a whisper. Turning to his son, he said, "Alright, Cameron, best behavior while we're gone. And keep this place neat, alright?"

"Okay."

"We shouldn't be too late," Lawrence adding, tugging his bag of weapons onto his shoulder and tucking his mask into his jacket.

"Best behavior," Joar repeated, arm raised, and Artemis instinctively winced, but he merely rested his hand on Cam's back. "See you in a bit."

They left, and Artemis made sure to lock the door behind them. Not a second later, Cam spun her around to face him, his grin somehow even wider. "Well, this must be one of the best days of your life."

"What?"

"C'mon, Artemis, not only do you get to see me, but we get to hang all night! Can't really get much better for you, can it?"

"You are so annoying."

"Rude! And to a guest in your own home. How improper."

"An unwelcomed guest, like a cockroach."

"Oh, my soul! You wound me!"

"I think you'll live. Now c'mon, let's put your stuff away. There's pizza and fries for dinner."

Feigned hurt immediately disappeared. "Sweet!"

Leading him down the hall, she stood in the doorway of her room and gestured to Jade's side. "You can put your stuff there."

He complied, then asked, "How come you never pushed the beds together?"

"What?"

"You know, move 'em together. Make a mega-bed."

"Just never thought about it."

Because there was always a chance that Jade would come home.

(Right?)

Seeming to detect the change in his friend's demeanor, Cam diverted his attention to her side of the room. Gracelessly falling onto her bed, his left hand settled on her bear. "Who's this guy?"

"Just my old stuffed animal." Heat crawling up her neck to rest in her cheeks, she made a hasty grab, but Cam pulled it close.

"So what's his name?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? That's a silly name."

She glowered at him and made another attempt. This time he rolled onto the floor, landing with a thump before jumping to his feet. "Just tell me! I won't tease you, promise."

Crossing her arms, she grumbled, "Cubby."

"Cubby," he repeated, ample effort in keeping his expression neutral. "Like…a bear cub."

"I named him when I was three!"

Fighting and failing to keep the smirk off his face, he tossed her the toy and asked, "So, like, what do you do with him?"

With a roll of her eyes, she started, "C'mon, Cam—" but the honest look on his face told her he wasn't being sarcastic, and she realized that he had probably never had a stuffed animal in his life. A deep sadness seeded in her core and blossomed like a wild vine, the way it would whenever Dad tried to make one of Mom's dishes for dinner but was never quite able to get it right. Swallowing hard, she explained, "Well, I mean, when I was little, I'd play pretend with him. Tea parties and adventures and stuff like that. Now I just, you know, it's nice to sleep with." Almost subconsciously, she hugged Cubby close. "Comforting."

"Huh. Okay. Let's go eat; I'm starving!"

It was no exaggeration. As soon as a plate was in his hand, he was piling on a generous handful of fries, followed by three slices of pizza, the topmost of which he took an aggressive bite.

"Wow, what a classy gentleman you are," Artemis teased, purposefully taking only a small portion of fries and a single slice.

"Hey, I left you plenty!" he countered, left cheek protruding as he attempted to speak with his mouth full, melted cheese strings dangling down his chin.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She took her food into the living room and plopped onto the couch, and Cam followed her lead. "Still impolite."

"And yet you love me anyway."

She snorted, louder than necessary, and grabbed the remote. "Keep telling yourself that, Frostbite."

"Keep denying it, Rapunzel. Who else could even measure up to me?"

"Do you want the whole list or an abridged version?" she countered, not even glancing from channel surfing.

"Have you ever thought of maybe dropping the attitude a bit?"

"I don't have attitude, I merely have a strong personality. Maybe you're threatened by strong women."

"Maybe if I were currently in the presence of any, we'd be able to assess the validity of your statement, but—oh, you're kidding me, right?" Half-eaten crust pointed accusingly at the television, he continued, "You cannot expect me to watch a baking show! Keep scrolling!"

"It's not a baking show, it's a baking competition."

"Oh, well excuse me, that's completely different. How terribly mistaken I was." Stuffing the rest of the crust into his mouth, he reached his newly freed hand toward her, but she jerked the remote out of his reach. "There has to something else!"

"Just give it a chance," she insisted. "Besides, my house, my rules. And this is what I want to watch. So there." To emphasize her point, she stuck out her tongue at him.

"Now that's really mature," Cam retorted, but he turned to his dinner without a further fight.

By the end of the episode, Artemis had matched her friend for pizza slices, and they'd demolished the entire order of fries. Thoroughly full, she stretched out, resting her feet on Cam's lap. Dryly, he asked, "Comfortable?"

"Completely." With as dramatic of a sigh as she could manage, she relinquished the remote. "You can pick now."

Of course, he selected a horror movie, some sort of slasher with gratuitous violence and physics-defying kills. As yet another teen was being set up for slaughter, Artemis stood, collected the plates, and took them to the kitchen.

"Aw, are you scared?" With a suggestive eyebrow raise, he continued, "You know I'd protect you from anything."

"Yeah, you and those bulging biceps," she retorted, popping the dishes in the dishwasher before turning her attention to the leftovers. A horrific squeal filled the apartment while she wrapped them in tinfoil, but she didn't even pause. "Oh no, did Slutty Teen 3 die?"

"Yup."

"Tragic. I was so invested in her character development." Closing the refrigerator, she glanced at the cabinet right above it. Stomach having settled, her sweet tooth—inherited, surprisingly, from her dad—had kicked in, so she clambered onto the counter and scanned the available desserts. Jackpot!

Returning to Cam, she chucked one of the Cosmic Brownies at him, earning a jump of fright. "Aw, are you scared?"

"Gee, real original." He inspected the treat. "Oh, man, I love these! Crystal, er, Killer Frost made me a cake of 'em for my birthday once."

"What?"

"Yeah. I'd just turned ten, and it came up while were working with her, and she got so mad at my dad that he didn't tell her beforehand. And all she had were these, so she unwrapped them all and arranged them into a cake." He chuckled quietly. "She made Dad sing 'Happy Birthday' with her. I thought they were going to get into it right then, but he went along with it."

"Killer Frost did all that?"

Even though she'd never personally worked with the villainess, she knew of her reputation, the laundry list of crimes committed, her willingness to maim or kill whether it was necessary or not.

"Well, yeah. I'm basically her favorite person on the planet. And who could blame her? I'm awesome."

"And so humble." Again in her spot, she reclaimed Cam as a footrest.

"Can you not?"

Narrowing her eyes at him, she deliberately dug her heels into his thigh, and though he grumbled something under his breath, he made no attempt to dislodge her. There was content silence for the remainder of the movie, which she broke as soon as the credits began: "Alright, my turn to pick."

"Ugh, no way. You have no taste."

"Better taste than you."

"Debatable." Still, he surrendered, loudly voicing his disapproval every time she even paused on a channel. Settling on some sort of game show, it became largely background noise while the two talked, filling in the other on what had been going on in their lives. Only when Artemis felt her eyelids fluttering and Cam yawned loudly did she look at the clock. Nearly midnight.

Heart pounding loudly in her ears, she sat upright. "They should have been back by now."

"What?"

"This wasn't supposed to be a long job."

"It's not that late. I'm sure everything is fine."

"Don't say that!" she spat harshly. "You have no idea if they're okay or not! Things can go wrong! People don't always come back."

I would know, she thought but dared not say, remembering a night that felt like lifetimes ago, her and Jade staring as their dad returned in the darkened hours of the early morning, hunched and defeated and alone.

Hesitantly, Cam inched closer before pulling her into a hug. "I, I get that, Artemis, I do, but you can't freak out, either. We have no idea if anything is wrong, so don't panic, okay? If, and it's a big if, something did happen and they aren't back in the morning, I know where Mr. Freeze is, we can go to him and he can get more information. And if it is something really bad, I'll get into contact with Crystal, and she'll be able to help us out. Trust me, okay? Please, please don't freak out."

Taking a moment, she nodded, unable to meet his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry."

"Hey, no apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong." He gave her a tight squeeze. "You want to wait up?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. I'm gonna get cleaned up, okay?"

With a few deep, uneven breaths, she fought to collect herself, stared at her trembling hands and willed them to steady. By the time Cam had come back in oversized basketball shorts and a wifebeater, she had managed to shove the worst-case scenario to the back of her mind, far below her conscious thoughts. That didn't stop her from accepting Cubby when Cam, wordlessly, pressed him into her grasp.

Despite her adamancy in staying awake, sleep must have overtaken her at some point because she was suddenly jolted into consciousness by a loud thud against the door. Training instincts propelled her to grab her knife, but Cam was already in a fighting stance, encased in his ice armor, an icicle in each hand. As she got to her feet behind him, another thud boomed and the door swung open, and an icicle went flying through the air.

"Jesus Christ!" Her dad, likely saved only by the same instincts he had instilled in his daughter, threw himself to the ground, and the weapon shattered harmlessly in the wall behind him. "It's us!"

"S-sorry," Cam stammered, armor retracting.

"Don't be sorry," his father objected with a gruff bark of a laugh. "That's the kind of stuff I want to see from you all the time!"

"Just not against me," Lawrence countered under his breath, entering the apartment and flipping on the light.

"Did you not bring your key?" Artemis asked. Glancing at the microwave clock, blinking 3:47, she added, "And why are you so late?"

"I had my key, but the stupid door jammed. Gotta talk to that moron of a landlord again. Fixed my ass." A beat of silence. "And the scope of our work was expanded."

There was no need to ask for clarification, not when she noticed the bloodstains on Joar's shirt.

"Dad!" Cam practically yelped, immediately cutting the distance between them. "Are you—?"

"I'm okay, Cameron," Joar interrupted. "Don't worry." With an intense look, a strange conglomerate of emotions dancing across his face, he briefly ruffled his son's hair, the raw, bloodied skin of his knuckles a stark contrast against the white. "Don't worry."

"Alright, well, that's enough excitement for one night." Her dad cocked an eyebrow at Cubby, squished against the couch cushions, but he asked no questions, simply handing her the bear. "Go get some sleep you two." He leaned down to kiss her forehead and added, for her ears alone, "Separate beds."

A snort in annoyance was the only acknowledgement she gave. "Goodnight."

She and Cam headed to her room. Settling under the covers, she heard Cam say, "Oh, and you're welcome."

Rolling over to face him, she asked, "What?"

"Uh, I was so ready to protect you from whoever was breaking in."

"Our dads who had no intention of harming us? And I was ready, too!"

"Yeah, but it's not like we knew that! And you were behind me with that puny little knife of yours. I was out in front, willing to lay down my life."

"You are such a pain. What do you want, a medal?"

"Nah. I was thinkin' something simpler." Closing his eyes, he puckered his lips.

Even though he was obviously kidding, a migration of butterflies erupted in her stomach, and she contemplated fulfilling his request, just to see what he would do, to see how much of a joke it truly was, but her bravery had its limits. Instead, she retorted, "I don't kiss frogs," and launched Cubby at his head. Bullseye.

"Hmph! How ungrateful!" Examining the projectile, Cam hugged it against his chest, rested his chin on the top of its head. "You know, for that, I'm taking him hostage."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She drank in the sight before her, Cam bathed in the gentle glow of the half moon, a relaxed, peaceful smile on his face, etching it into her mind. In a few hours, he and his father would be gone, and she would not see him for probably a quarter of a year, and they'd be straight-backed and dead-eyed under their fathers' instructions, and tonight would be a faint memory tucked away with those of her family when it had been whole. "Goodnight, Frostbite."

"Goodnight, Rapunzel."

And she drifted to sleep, daring to hope for more moments like this.