Volte-Face

Egads, I got two reviews in one day? Well, since I have a second chapter all up-and-ready, I'm going to be an idiot and post it prematurely...

Xment2bursX-- I was going for 'detailed,' actually. I'm glad I accomplished it...

Destiny Lot-- Don't worry, I'm going to, and probably much sooner than you'd expect!

I do hope some more people read this, whether or not they choose to review. Anyone else who read it, thank you. I hope you'll continue to read this and enjoy it as much as possible.

I'm not one for long author's notes, if you haven't figured. I guess I don't have much to say, or maybe I don't want to waste any more time before I let you on to the actual chapter. Regardless…

"If everything on earth were rational, nothing would happen."
—Feodor Dostoevski

Aqualad had painted Bumblebee's nails, tucked the kids into bed and made slight progress in the ever-growing mountain of dishes that had somehow enlarged since three hours previous. And although it was simply a bargain with the two boys to get them into bed, he had even donned an apron, much to Bumblebee—and her camera's—delight.

And Roy still wasn't back.

Currently, Garth sat at the edge of his pool, feet trailing in the water. The sun had set hours ago, and Speedy had only left the Tower an hour before that. It only took a few minutes to get there, thanks to warpholes set up by Herald… and how long was the archer going to talk to Raven, anyway?

Aqualad groaned, leaning back on his elbows. His eyes absently followed the reflections of the ripples on the ceiling; it was late, he was tired, and if he hadn't planned on telling Speedy off he would've been in bed long ago.

He sighed, collapsing flat on his back, legs going limp. He stretched out his arms, reaching to the side as far as possible before clasping his hands over his stomach.

It wasn't that Garth had a problem with his teammates speaking with Raven. That didn't bother him at all—rather, it was the fact that Speedy, hothead extraordinaire, didn't feel enough at ease just to talk to his own team about his problems.

Because he obviously had problems, and they must've been serious, at least to him. Roy was too proud to ask for help if it was anything little, or even anything big as long as it wasn't life-threatening. And the fact that he went to Raven, noted Titan counselor, made it even more suspicious—those two weren't the closest pair, and other than rolling her eyes at Speedy's innuendos, they didn't communicate.

Aqualad closed his eyes and squirmed an inch to the right. It also concerned him because of his relation to the archer, mostly as a teammate but also as—in his opinion—a friend. Sure, he and Speedy hated each other at times, but in the past few weeks it seemed as if Roy was really trying to get to know him. Aqualad had certainly gotten a deeper look at Roy, although there was a certain limit to how personal the redhead let him get.

Maybe that's what the visit to Raven was about—something personal, something that Speedy didn't feel comfortable sharing with his team.

Garth scoffed, sitting up, rubbing his eyes. If Speedy didn't get there soon, he'd just give up until morning. Maybe he was planning on staying the night, or hitting a few bars to check out a different pool of women.

A sudden, light pressure on his back made a shiver go through his veins, but he had little time to think before the foot shoved him forward, plunging him into the water. Garth felt himself go all the way under and instinctively turned, clawing for the tile rim. His head broke the surface and he shoved dark hair out of his face, glaring at the perpetrator.

Speedy stood a few feet away, foot slightly raised, hands in his pockets and a defiantly smug look on his face. His crooked, easy grin only widened at the Atlantean's glare.

"Waiting up for me, honey?"

Garth wiped the water from his face with a hand, propping his elbows over the edge. "Yes, darling—now, was that absolutely necessary?"

Speedy thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much." He bent slightly, extending a hand.

The dark-haired teen didn't move. "You know you're asking for it, right?"

"Asking for wh—"

Before he could finish the question, Aqualad grabbed his entire arm, yanking him toward the pool. Roy barely had time to let out the customary string of expletives before he fell gracelessly into the water, twisting and kicking and sending bubbles everywhere.

"Asking for that," Garth clarified with a grin when the telltale red hair burst through the surface again. "Gods, Speedy, I didn't think you'd fall for a trick that brainless."

Mask askew, Roy coughed out water, treading to the edge. "The only thing," he grunted, shoving Aqualad out of the way, "that I have to do with brainless tricks is that they're easier to coerce than intellectuals."

"Were you born with your mind in the gutter, or did some past incident get it stuck there?"

Roy pushed himself out of the pool and stood a few feet from the edge, toeing off his shoes. "What? Oh, I don't know. What are you doing up this late anyway?"

"Waiting to talk to you."

Speedy froze halfway through peeling off his sodden mask, one exposed green eye wide in confusion. A second later, though, he went back to being utterly composed, completely unruffled. "Really," was all he said.

"Yes—and unfortunately, you ran late." His tone was accusing but his amused expression told differently.

"Sorry," Roy chuckled, sloshing toward the kitchen. He yanked a few dishtowels from a drawer and lobbed some to the Atlantean. "Didn't know I had a curfew."

Aqualad ignored the towels and adjusted his arms on the edge, folding them on the cool, slick tiles. "I just wanted to ask you why you went to Raven."

He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a kitchen stool. "Felt like talking."

"To her."

"Yes, to her." Roy cocked his head, rubbing down one leg with the tiny dishtowel. "Why does it matter?"

The dark-haired prince elegantly climbed from the water, putting a towel around his neck to keep his hair from dripping. "Maybe I'd rather you talk to your own teammates about it. It doesn't have to be me, but I don't think the twins are quite to your level of maturity, so you might be stuck with Bee."

An exasperated expression had made its way across the archer's face. "Maybe—"

"No, listen to me first," Aqualad said tersely, starting toward the hallway. "You and Raven don't get along, and even if you secretly do you've never been over there for a chat session. When you suddenly decide to go over and, I don't know, confess some dark secrets, it makes us feel like you really don't trust us."

Speedy raised a brow. "Who's 'us'?"

"Well, me. Bumblebee won't admit it, but I think she feels the same. And even the twins were making remarks about it!"

"What about your little excursions with Raven?" Ex-apprentices of Green Arrow did not get backed into a corner. "And Bee's, too! Why is my one-time talk of any importance?"

They were in the 'bedroom wing' of the Tower now, their argument lowered to hisses.

"Because it's never happened before! What's going on that you can't tell us?"

Roy stopped in front of his door, arms crossed. "Nothing's going on!"

"So what did you talk to Raven about?" The twisted, knowing smirk on Garth's face looked unnatural.

Roy opened his mouth, eyes narrowed, but then he paused. "Well…"

"Exactly! Speedy, if you can't open up to your own teammates, how can—"

The archer slammed a fist into the panel at the side of the door, shooting a glare over his shoulder. "There are some things that you can't know about me. I'm sure it's the same for you, or the twins, or Bee." He stepped through the door when it opened. "Go get some Atlantean beauty slumber, and stop freaking over the details."

"Details?" Garth caught the door before it slid shut. "If your own teammates can't know something, why can a distant, barely-acknowledged Titan know it?"

He turned, slight surrender written into his eyes. "Maybe it doesn't have to do with her."

"You were talking to Raven about us?" His laugh was cynical. "That's makes it even worse! If you have a problem with one of us, what good will it do talking to—"

"Forget I said anything," Roy muttered, pressing the red door close button on the keypad. "It honestly shouldn't matter to you."

"Speedy—" Garth stopped the door again, this time stepping over its track into the bedroom. "Stop that. It matters because I like to be informed about my friends."

"I'm not your friend," Roy growled, peeling off his wet shirt as he retreated to the back of the room.

Aqualad persisted. "We're still teammates." He inched after the stubborn redhead, cautious to keep a good distance.

Roy didn't reply; he pitched his shirt toward an overflowing laundry basket and yanked open a drawer, rummaging for another shirt. Eventually, he found one, and slipped it over his head. While he tried to find a replacement mask, he glowered at Garth, lips set in a frown.

"Are you going to leave, or what?"

"Are you going stop being evasive, or what?" he countered.

A sneer plastered itself on Speedy's face. He abruptly faced Aqualad, rapidly coming closer. The dark-haired boy backed up out of surprise and found himself caught against a shelf, with the door too far to his left to quickly reach.

"Speedy—"

"It's midnight, Aqualad," he said, voice rumbling menacingly at the back of his throat. He was too close, masked eyes inches from the opposing violet visage, one arm extended so his hand pressed against the shelf. "And I'm not in a good mood."

Garth set his jaw and folded his arms. "Yes, well, I stayed up far past a desirable time just to speak with you about something personal, and you refuse to say a word. I'm in a worse mood, trust me."

"Then get"—he leaned closer—"out."

Aqualad's lips twitched into sardonic grin and he leaned closer as well, contemptuous smile mere millimeters away from Roy's gritted teeth. "No."

Something about it elicited a strange reaction from the archer; his brows rose, stretching the white of the mask, and he shoved away from the wall with a spin and a low oath. A hand raked through his damp hair, his angry expression wholly dropped. He stormed into the bathroom, kicking open the door without regard to the sleeping members of the team, slamming with equal force.

Garth narrowed his eyes and let out a breath. He could hear the shower sputtering to life—any chance of talking to Speedy was gone, at least until morning. But they would talk in the morning, no doubt, and Aqualad would manage to extricate some vital confession from the archer—he wouldn't have it any other way.