Once again I just have to thank all of you so much for your support of the fic! I'm sorry it's updating so quickly lately, but I'm about to enter "exam season" again, so I'm trying to write as much as I can before I get hit too much by it. Hopefully you all will enjoy this chapter!

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Double Time
Chapter Three: Answering the Summons

Tucker's friends were far from the only adjustment to Washington's life after they decided to try this whole living together thing. They didn't even register as the biggest.

That honor belonged to Junior.

While patrolling into the early morning was only natural to Wash, and was even extended now that he did not have to do it completely along thanks to Tex, one thing that his single life had afforded him was the ability to sleep in as late as necessary to make up for the hours lost to his habits.

Living with a child – a rapidly growing, quasi-alien child – was not so prone to that lifestyle.

Deep in sleep, Washington was far from prepared for the way a scaly, hard body threw itself onto his stomach and let out a long string of grunts and honks and blarghs.

His instinctive reaction was to throw off the assailant and grab the knife from under his pillow. But, fortunately, Wash was at least a little used to the ritual by that point.

Eyes still open wide with surprise, Wash glanced toward Junior and forced down a large breath before fully getting to sit up.

Happily, Junior slid down Wash's chest as the man got up and landed with a bounce on the bed.

"Blargh!" the child cried out excitedly.

"Is your dad at work?" Wash yawned, getting a honk in return. He still had difficulty understanding the child's rudimentary responses, so he looked to the other side of the bed for his answer.

It was empty.

Tucker had been asleep when Wash got in that morning and they hadn't actually spoken to each other since Wash bailed – literally – on the car trip of friendship that Tucker, Church, and Caboose had embarked on.

Idly, Wash wondered if that was something he should be more concerned about just before he felt Junior throw himself into Wash's side again.

"Honk!" Junior shouted testily.

"Sorry," Wash yawned, rubbing at his face. "I'm without coffee at the moment, Junior. Give me a minute or two to work things out in my brain."

When he glanced back at Junior he was met by a tilted head and none too impressed with his excuses.

Washington let out a little sigh and mustered up the excitement he could find through his tiredness. "How about I make you some breakfast and then you and I can get into our morning practice routine. What do you think?"

That got an excited clatter from Junior and he scrambled from the bed and out the bedroom door.

Taking a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and watch Junior as he left, Wash tried very, very hard to fight the need to go back to sleep and decided to get his blood pumping and get on with the rest of the day regardless.

He stretched, made his deep breathing exercises last a second longer than normal before finally committing himself to fulfilling his promise – and Junior's demands.

In the kitchen, Junior was already sitting at the table, mandible clicking together excitedly.

Just a while ago, the child had been too small to climb up in the chair by himself. Tucker was complaining about it constantly – about how fast kids grow up and how he needed to take more pictures and preserve these moments.

Wash wasn't quite at that stage just yet, but he was noticing that Junior's growth was, even beyond Wash's expectations, enhanced compared to a human child.

It was something that was only going to get scarier and more worrisome over the years. Especially since they knew so little about Junior's true biology, and had no connections with a medical license to speak of.

Once when Wash brought it up, Tucker mentioned Doc and then they ended the conversation rather abruptly at the same time.

Taking a note from Tucker's teachings, Wash grabbed a slab of beef from the freezer, pulled out a cookie tray, and began warming up the stove top to feed the alien child.

There was some pepper and seasoning he added, but after Junior had gagged the last time Wash put salt on the meat, Wash had been too worried to add any himself. He seemed to lack whatever culinary expertise that Tucker had gained over the years in the food industry and from raising a meet eating child with multiple rows of canine teeth.

Junior was practically quivering with excitement by the time Wash walked over to the table with a plate.

As much as Wash had taken a real shine to Junior, he had little love for the kid's eating habits. They were a bit savage, especially considering the hardly rare stake was bloody and messy. So he busied himself with coffee.

Coffee, the only thing truly keeping him running these days with such little time for sleep split between all of his responsibilities and new social obligations.

Stirring his coffee somewhat absent mindedly, Wash reached for his phone and checked for messages from Tucker. There wasn't even a good morning text.

"Hm," Wash hummed before turning and looking toward Junior. The child was smacking his jaws together and licking his lips, being more than done with his bloody meat pile. "Junior, did your dad say anything about me today before he left for work?"

Junior licked his lips again before shaking his head. "Blargh."

Washington shifted uncomfortably. "I'm… sure it's nothing. I mean. It shouldn't be anything. I'm the one that should be upset. I was totally left to the wolves yesterday. The social wolves." He looked at Junior's blank, non-understanding look back. "I'm not a social person. I'm introverted. He's extroverted. He just needs to get that. I don't hold it against him or anything. Right? So maybe he's wanting to talk in person about it tonight. Or something. I just didn't understand any of the references. It was awkward. Would've been more awkward if I stayed."

He paused for input. From a four-year-old.

It obviously didn't come.

"It was less awkward to jump out of a moving car," Wash explained. "Believe me."

Junior shifted in his seat and looked toward the training equipment then back. "Honnk!"

Relieved that Junior was not interested in the subject and that his own blathering was utterly ignored, Wash let out a long sigh and nodded. "Right, good. Okay let's get to training. I agree."

Excitedly, Junior leaped down from his seat and ran toward the equipment.

He dropped and began stretching just the way Wash had taught him, though there was some obvious speed to the motions – he was not taking the time to fully stretch every part of his body the way he should, too wrapped up in his excitement for training.

Wash finished his coffee and headed over to pull out the training mats for them both to play fight and practice on.

Despite what Tucker might joke, Washington really did feel strongly about not having a sidekick. The very bureaucratic oversight and ways in which the Freelancers had ran with their superhero academy and the sidekick program had ruined any fanciful notions of that for him.

But Junior had untested strength and power with rapidly accelerated growth. He needed training, he needed someone who could keep up with him and set him on the right path.

Even if Wash didn't feel very strongly about Tucker, he would want to be that man in Junior's life.

Still, he was a child. And Wash tried to teach more about control than hard muscle building.

After all, they were dealing with a four year old first and foremost.

By the second time Wash used Junior's momentum against him to flip him onto the mat, earning a series of angry clicks and annoyed blarghs from the child, Wash knew that they were at their mental unwind.

"Well, I think you're doing good, Junior," Wash said encouragingly. "How about we take a break and get out the crayons and paper!"

Almost immediately, Junior's face lit up and he let out a long honk before skittering up and racing to his bedroom.

Wash put on another pot of coffee, actually feeling the bags under his eyes, and then started some of his own, more serious workouts.

He had to keep himself in shape as well.

By the time he finished his chin ups, Junior had gone through three pages of paper, drawing his adventures as Super Junior alongside Wash. The first page had a huge black squiggle over it and, from what Wash could see from peering down at it, Junior had instinctively started with his old, gray uniform instead of the new blue one.

Habits died hard. Wash knew that for sure.

The day was going calmly enough, even with the worry at the back of Wash's mind about himself and Tucker when the door opened and his partner came through with a hand full of mail.

"BLARGH!" Junior screamed out excitedly before racing over and tackling his father's waist.

"Hey there, my sweaty little Superman!" Tucker greeted happily, sweeping Junior off the ground. It took a little bit more of a struggle than it used to given Junior's growth. He then glanced to Wash. "You told him how to have an uncanny ability to be at least one block from major crimes every night yet?"

"Not yet," Wash said. "And that's not really something taught, it's more a… part of the calling, if you will."

"I won't," Tucker joked, setting Junior back down and shutting the door. "Picked up the mail."

"Thanks–" Wash began to say only to be interrupted.

"Figured you might be sore from your little tumble last night," Tucker said, a little sharper. There was a glint to his eyes that simply wasn't joking around anymore.

"I'm fine, thank you," Wash said, taking the mail.

"That's a shame," Tucker said flatly. Wash attempted to chalk it up to sarcasm, but truth was he wasn't so sure. "What is it with you and cars?"

"I don't know," Wash said. "But I am sorry if things were… awkward after I bailed. My intent was to make them less awkward," he explained, opening the mail addressed to him. A furrow grew in his brows as he looked at the seal.

"No, yeah, it was totally fun explaining to the guys why my boyfriend they barely knew decided, without comment, to roll out of the car to escape them. It was great," Tucker said. When Wash didn't respond, he moved in curiously. "What? What is it? Something bad?"

Wash stared at his mail intently for a few more minutes before looking up to Tucker somewhat in disbelief. "It's… from the mayor."

Tucker raised a brow. "Okay?"

"Addressed to… me. As in… superhero me," Wash continued, trying to keep down the nausea that was growing inside him. "They know who I am. And they want me to appear at the courthouse tomorrow."

For a moment, Tucker opened his mouth, as if he had something, anything to say. Then it snapped closed. They continued staring at each other before Tucker threw up his hands. "I told you it was fucking stupid to have your superhero name be your goddamn last name. Who does that?"

"We don't know how serious this is," Wash reacted calmly. "It might just be a talk. I'm the first superhero since Freelancer – well, out in the open at least. Maybe they just want to make some sort of arrangement."

"Yeah, and maybe along with knowing your address they also have been keeping an eye on the place and now know about Junior!" Tucker snapped back.

"I didn't know you were worried about that," Wash replied softly.

"I wasn't until you pointed out he could cause an intergalactic war!" Tucker reminded him.

They stared at each other, then down to Junior between them. He was tying his makeshift cape on his neck and looked up with bright eyes. "Blargh!"

The nausea came in full stop and Wash looked sickly toward Tucker. "This could be bad."

"This could be fucking ridiculous and messy," Tucker replied. "But I think I know how we can make sure Junior's safe tomorrow while you go play patsy to the mayor."

"Which would be…" Wash began before closing his eyes and groaning. He really shouldn't have even bothered asking. "Must we owe more favors to Church?"

"No," Tucker replied. "But we're going to, 'cuz I give a damn about my kid!"

Wash had a hard time thinking of an argument against that.