A/N: I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Aznvanna (QueenOfSuperheros on FFnet). She requested a Cam/Arty fic, and this is the first half of that request.

Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice.

A Lingering Feeling
VII. Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

- Robert Frost "Fire and Ice"

Happy Harbor
November 12, 18:16 EST

It was not a date.

No matter how the situation superficially appeared, Artemis going to dinner with Wally—alone—was not a date.

It was merely a coincidence that they were both hungry at the same time and at the same place.

Artemis had run out of groceries at the Cave, and Wally had depleted all sources of teenage-boy-fodder at his house, and both were without parental units—real or Justice League designated—that could provide them with said food. (She had no idea where Black Canary was, but she was last seen cuddling on the couch with Green Arrow, and Artemis really did not want to further investigate.)

Artemis, of course, had taken up residence at the Cave, and Wally's parents were randomly out of town, leaving the perpetually ravenous teenage boy to fend for himself—which wasn't entirely accurate, as they did leave him a debit card with enough money to buy out a grocery store if needed. However, Wally wasn't exactly a professional grocery shopper (he was a professional grocery-list-writer, though), and cooking was definitely out of the question—and his skill range.

Therefore, when the two met up in the Cave's kitchen around dinner-time, it was briefly decided upon that they would take a trek to a local restaurant—which in itself was quite impressive and all-around strange, as anything involving Wally and Artemis hardly ever contained the words "brief" and "decision."

Artemis was bewildered that she was even making a mountain out of this ridiculous mole-hill. After all, it definitely was not the first time she and Wally were alone together, so why should she even give half a rat's ass about their current situation? In fact, it was akin to being alone with any of her other teammates and friends. Well, except Robin never took the time to point out constellations before, and Kaldur never swam with her in the ocean, and she's actually never sparred with Conner, and Meg—Artemis tossed away that loaded train of thought with a vigorous shake of her head. UGH! Overanalyzing situations would definitely be the death of her sanity one day.

"Well you seem more delusional than usual," spoke up Wally. "Whoa, that rhymed…"

They were making their way to town on foot, and enjoying this ability before the winter blizzards swooped in. Wally was happily swinging his arms from side-to-side like a cracked-up chimpanzee to accidentally—but most likely purposely—hit Artemis's own arms now and then, which was basically a waste of energy as she could hardly feel his measly taps through her thick coat.

"I am perfectly lusional, Shakespeare," she responded, focusing her attention on how the setting sun turned her silver puffs of air into fading images of pink cotton-candy.

"Ri-i-ght," Wally replied, dragging out the word and smothering it with sarcasm. "As lusional as a fruit-loop."

Artemis raised her eyebrow and finally turned to him, and had to quickly look away—not because of how nonchalantly cute and ingenuous he looked (just kidding that was a lie)—but because the orange sunset was illuminating his bright-red hooded jacket and hair and basically transforming him into a giant stop-sign, or fire-hydrant, or whatever else in the world that was obnoxiously and unnaturally bright. Wally West was suddenly Wally-Caution-Sign—Warning: Prolonged Staring May Cause Excessive Bleeding of the Eyes.

"I'm not the one flopping my arms like a Raggedy-Ann doll having a seizure," she countered.

Wally swung his arm around and let it hit Artemis in the lower back with a satisfactory thud.

"I'm a windmill!"

She couldn't decide whether to be aggravated or amused at his random lapse into stupidity—that in actuality was not that random—but her body reacted with releasing a few sporadic snuffles of laughter.

"Okay, Don Quixote, you are definitely the one who's delusional, emphasis on the 'de'."

He raised his arm and brought it on a collision course with Artemis's face. Out of instinct, she slapped it away, and with such force that it almost took karma for a trip down revenge-street and came within a centimeter of crashing into Wally's own smug visage. He stumbled in surprise and scowled.

She shot back a satisfied look, and Wally didn't need Megan's telepathic link to know exactly what sassy phrase was strutting through her head.

Before he could give her neurological impulses a chance to become actions carried out by the ATP in her muscles cells, he raised his arms in front of him and inhaled dramatically.

"Mmmm! I smell lobster!"

Artemis tried to refrain from rolling her eyes. She was actually worried that all the extreme eye-rolling done when she was around him might one day cause her eyeballs to become permanently stuck in their position of praying for heavenly deliverance.

"We are by a harbor, Kid Duh."

Wally was starting to wonder if she would ever recognize that he was, in fact, not a complete idiot.

"I smell cooked lobster," he elaborated with a wave of his hand. "Wood-grilled lobster and steamed lobster, to be exact."

Artemis sniffed the air and admitted he was accurate—for once. She could definitely distinguish the wild and salty scent of the sea from the crispy aromas wafting from a nearby kitchen grill.

"My nose and stomach have both agreed that we try out that restaurant," came Wally's excited voice.

Artemis followed his finger to a brick-building that appeared to have the theme of a historic brick firehouse crossed with a fishing dock.

"'Gumbo's Lobster Wharf'," she read slowly. "It sounds—"

"Delicious!" finished Wally with gusto.

She shrugged, and that was all the nonverbal agreement he needed before he bounded to the front doors. He swung one open with bravado, and to Artemis's genuine surprise, stepped aside.

She paused and put a hand onto her hip, scrutinizing his face for evidence that perhaps the Wally she knew was somehow possessed.

"I'm not sure whether to be pleased, or absolutely freaked out," she finally stated.

Wally made a taunting face, similar to those common on kindergarten playgrounds.

"Well, you did call me Don Quixote," he pointed out. "But more practically, this is so I don't have to worry about you attacking me from behind."

As Artemis walked through the door, she casually flipped the end of her ponytail, letting a few strands slap Wally in the face.

"You see?!" he cried as he followed her. "That is exactly what I mean!"

"I don't need to be behind you to attack you, you fully know that," she replied without thinking. When she realized the possible innuendo her words could have carried, she hurried to the hostess. She did not want to see—or hear—the snicker that was surely dribbling out of Wally's mouth.

"Two please."

The hostess smiled and gave them both a cursory glance, although Artemis caught how her eyes paused on Wally about a few seconds longer. Concluding that he had probably sprouted a tentacle from his head, she turned to fleetingly glance at him, and although he was probably on the verge of drowning in his own puddle of drool from food-sensory-overload, he was disappointingly not morphing into the Kraken.

The hostess led them through the restaurant, which was decorated with the atmosphere of a quintessential seafood restaurant on the harbor. Fishing nets with faux-catches lined the wooden walls, the ocean-blue carpet was punctuated with wooden floors that appeared to have seen their share of the seven seas, and all around the ambiance was one of warm camaraderie and relaxation—ideal after a strenuous day of fishing in the cold waters.

Artemis could hear Wally's heavy inhales behind her even through the jolly din of the restaurant patrons. She then realized this was actually going to be her first experience of witnessing Wally eat an actual meal—in public, no less.

Thankfully, they arrived at their table at the same moment as her horrifying epiphany, and Artemis was able to stymie her visible shudder and channel that movement into sliding into the seat of their booth. Wally plopped down across from her, and practically lunged at the menu when the hostess handed them over.

"Wow!" exclaimed the hostess as she flashed an ebullient smile. "Someone's obviously hungry!"

"Hungry?" repeated Wally without tearing his eyes away from the glorious spread of tantalizing treats that were begging to become three-dimensional. "I'm famished! Say, what do you recommend?"

The hostess giggled, "Oh, everything. But we're best known for our lobsters, of course. They're very juicy and tender and…"

Artemis looked up from her menu and stared with displeasure at the hostess. She had actually leaned her elbows onto their table and was pointing menu items to Wally while simultaneously flaunting her bosom and nauseatingly sugary charm. Her voice had suddenly pranced up a few notches and apparently the menu was hiding secret jokes because practically every other noise from her mouth was a jingling titter. Suddenly the air around her became stifling, and Artemis unbuttoned her coat and tossed it onto the empty space beside her.

She continued to watch Wally and the hostess warily. He said a few words to the hostess, and suddenly the girl straightened and grabbed both their menus, and with one last candied smile, flounced away. Artemis shot him a stern questioning look, and flipped her palms upwards as if to gesture, "What the heck just happened?"

"I took the liberty of ordering for us," he explained before she could even ask.

"Okay first of all," she began, trying to prevent her voice from oozing umbrage, "I didn't even get to look at the menu. And secondly, you gave our order to the hostess?"

Wally smiled confidently and leaned back into the booth's cushiony seat. "Relax! She'll put in our order—it's just a short-cut I've learned from being a restaurant connoisseur."

Artemis sighed. She supposed there was probably no chance in arguing with him on that.

"And what exactly did we order?"

He crossed his arms, expression still complacent. "You'll see."

She started shaking her head, the curling of her lips betraying her surface irritation.

"This is the last time I'm going to a restaurant with you."

A waiter appeared and set down two tall glasses of water in front of the two, and Wally glanced at Artemis as his hindsight crystallized.

"Did you want anything else?" he asked in a tone that almost contained borderline concern if Artemis strained her ears hard enough.

She gave a one-shoulder shrug and smiled at the retreating waiter.

"Nah, water's fine."

They sat in silence for a while, and for the first time, neither one of them knew how exactly to start a conversation. Artemis concentrated on twirling her straw in her glass of water, and watched as miniature waves washed over miniature icebergs in a miniature polar pond. Wally was fiddling around with the container of sugar packets, taking each one out and reading its label, inattentive to the definition of "identical". He put the last one back, and finally cleared his throat.

"What are three things you've always wanted to do?"

Wally's sudden question was like a fishing hook, yanking Artemis's thoughts back to dry land. She looked up in mid-stir with a look of surprise.

"Three things you've always wanted to do," he echoed after practically hearing the questioning exclamation in her mind. "Or, we could just wait here in agonizing silence until our food arrives."

Even though silence was golden, awkward was not, so after a few seconds of thought, she answered.

"Um, fly, scuba dive, and…" she paused and looked up at the wooden ceiling beams, before slowly lowering her eyes again back to Wally, "draw."

Wally's eyebrow rose on its own account.

"Draw? That's a terrifying image," he jested.

Her eyes flickered and she shot him the piercing glance that had nearly become her trademark when in Wally's presence.

"My first sketch will be of me beating you up with my bow."

Wally laughed and picked up his glass of water.

"Oh how I quiver with fear," he teased while toasting her with his water.

Artemis faked a hearty guffaw, followed by a quick change of expression back to unamusement.

"Wally, you kill me with your cleverness," she quipped.

He finished sipping his water and then began unzipping his jacket, effectively ignoring her. Artemis found her eyes inadvertently following his zipper's downwards crawl, and swiftly blamed the fixation on her brain's natural reaction to the attraction of movement.

"As for this clever and extremely handsome guy," Wally said while shedding his hoodie but obviously not his ego, "he's always wanted to conduct research at a state-of-the art facility, visit a particle accelerator, and, well, flying sounds cool too."

Artemis rolled her eyes. "I am not surprised…"

Wally smirked. "A.K.A. you're jealous."

She brushed off his comment, and continued with their impromptu game.

"What are three things you're not good at?" she asked.

"Psh," he scoffed, "I'm good at everything."

Was it worrisome that Artemis had actually predicted he would say that exact phrase? She tried to subtly sweep a parameter review of the entire restaurant in hopes of catching a certain red-haired and auburn-eyed telepath.

Unsuccessful in her surveying, she turned back to Wally and continued without belying her worrying realization.

"Including failing?" she teased.

"Yeah. I fail at failing," he riposted.

"You fail at not failing."

"I do not fail at not failing."

"You do not not fail at not failing."

The two suddenly quieted and contemplated Artemis' words with identical frowns.

"I do not have enough glucose in my brain to process that," Wally finally muttered.

"Um, yeah me neither…" Artemis quickly added.

"Anyways," Wally continued, "three things that I'm just an electron away from being perfect at: handling criticism, admitting failure, and, um, dancing."

"Dancing? Really?" She snorted, which became a jangling laugh as a mental image of Wally attempting to groove at a nightclub materialized in her imagination.

"Even someone as flawless as me can't be amazing at everything." He stretched an arm over the booth. "Your turn. But you can only list three—I don't want to be here all night."

"Oh gee," she lamented humorously, "I don't even know I have three."

Wally looked up at the ceiling with a feigned expression of apathy.

"Okay let's see," Artemis continued: "Lying, taking compliments, and um, board games."

"Board games?" Wally snapped his head forward to stare at her doubtfully. "How can you be bad at board games?"

"Um…" She looked down and started idly fiddling with the empty straw wrapper. "Probably because I never really played them as a kid…"

"Oh…"

Enter Wally West, king of faux pas and foot-in-the-mouth syndrome. He brought a hand to pull at the hair at the nape of his neck and quickly changed the topic.

"Okay, um, how about three…three…pet peeves?"

Artemis's grin returned as she looked back at him.

"Now this, I'm upset with the limit of three."

"Try not to over-exert that little brain of yours," he teased.

"If my brain's 'little'," she riposted, "then yours is microscopic."

"Microorganisms are hot." Wally winked at her. "Sexy binary-fission, remember?" he said, referring to their text message conversation during her first day at Gotham Academy.

"Whatever. Okay, my pet peeves," she resumed. "Well, I can't stand liars, probably because I can't lie myself. I also don't like shallow people. Oh, and people who think they're the shit." She shot him a meaningful glare. "Definitely can't stand those."

Wally's laugh came in fits of increasing length and volume, as if he wasn't certain he had heard correctly, but still also recognizing the hilarity. Artemis crossed her arms challengingly.

"Way to be the world's biggest hypocrite!" he finally exclaimed when he could speak again. "You just basically described yourself in a nutshell!"

"At least I don't have one because I'm not one, Walnut."

He leaned forward and opened his mouth to protest to the latest addition to his nickname-plague, but at that moment the waiter appeared with their steaming entrées, and his retaliations quickly drowned in a tidal wave of drool.

The waiter set her plate down, and Artemis found herself staring a whole lobster. Warm steam rose off its bright red shell in curling towers and wafted its tantalizing aroma into her face. Beside the lobster was a golden corn-on-the-cob, along with several slices of lemon. She looked over at Wally and saw he had ordered the same thing, but accompanied by another entrée of creamy shrimp pasta. The waiter set down a two bowls of yellow melted butter and finished by declaring, "Enjoy your meal!"

And that was exactly what they did.

Wally found himself mysteriously mesmerized at the scene before him. Artemis had taken the briefest of seconds in surveying her plate, and with a silent squint of approval, and grabbed a piece of lobster with absolutely no qualms about her lack of daintiness in eating before a guy.

And as he watched her crack open the shell of her second piece with hardly any effort, he admitted it was actually quite attrac—

Artemis suddenly caught his eye with a piece of lobster meat halfway to the bowl of butter, and frowned. He quickly composed his thoughts and the edge of his lips lifted into a crooked smile.

"God Arty, you eat like a freaking pig."

"Takes one to know one," she countered swiftly while dipping her morsel of lobster into the butter.

"Would you believe me if I told you I'm on a diet?"

Artemis shook her head, her mouth currently overwhelmed with the buttery and salty taste of lobster.

"I'm on the seafood diet—every time I see food, I eat it!"

She raised an eyebrow at him and groaned, "Please start eating so you'll stop talking."

Wally chuckled and picked up his own piece of lobster. When it came to his priorities, food always took precedence over winning a banter-battle with Artemis.

The emptying of their plates correlated not only with the filling of their stomachs, but also the noticeable increase in their moods. Gradually, smiles replaced scowls, and by the time dessert arrived in the form of a tantalizing chocolate lava cake, the two were practically intoxicated with amicable feelings.

"You ordered dessert?" asked Artemis, staring at Wally with authentic amazement.

He smiled and picked up a spoon. "Did you know," he began as he carved a morsel of cake for himself, and Artemis followed, "the consumption of sugars and simple carbohydrates allows the release of serotonin in the brain, which elevates mood, and thus once we start, we remain in the habit of eating sweets even after feeling full?"

"An excuse is never needed for dessert," she slurred after swallowing a mouthful of cake, nearly closing her eyes as she relished the warm chocolate sweetness melt on her tongue. "Oh, and you never told me your pet peeves," she continued.

Wally looked up in mid-chew and made a movement to start talking. Artemis quickly pointed her spoon at him and shot him the "don't-you-freaking-dare" look. He smirked and waited until he had swallowed before answering.

"Well, let's see…three pet peeves: waiting around…fake people…oh, and people that walk in herds and clog the hallways at school."

"I call them 'blood-clots'," Artemis added offhandedly while she hewed another bite of cake.

"Well this is awkward."

"What is?"

"That we both call them 'blood-clots'."

Artemis laughed, her voice hiding no indication of irritation, but only good-natured glee.

"We actually have something in common? Pinch me I must be dreaming!"

"Gladly!"

He reached for her arm but she quickly shifted and made a move to stab him with her spoon. He grinned and retreated, returning to the cake.

Artemis brought her hand to her mouth and suppressed a hic-cup-like burp.

"I am…so…full," she groaned.

Wally nodded in agreement, and pushed the empty plate that once housed the chocolate cake to the side.

"Food coma time!" he sighed blissfully, rubbing his stomach. He then yawned and stretched both arms to rest on the top of the booth. "I might just crash at the Cave tonight."

The warm sensation of being satiated settled around them like a down comforter, and they snuggled in, content to recline in comfortable silence for a brief moment.

Their waiter approached them with the bill, and Wally snatched it almost before it touched the table.

"I got this one," he offered.

"Wally," objected Artemis, pushing herself off the back of the booth, "I can pay for my half."

"Nope." He pulled out a debit card from his wallet and set it on the bill. He then smiled at her. "You can just grab our lunch tomorrow." The waiter, who had been standing nearby, quickly whisked away the bill and card.

"Ugh," Artemis grumbled and leaned back into the booth once again, "I don't even want to think about eating again right now…"

"Really? I think I could go for a snack in about half-an-hour."

Instead of her natural instinct to roll her eyes again, she just gave him a lazy smile. The waiter returned with Wally's card and the receipt, and Artemis absentmindedly started playing with the strands of her ponytail. She observed him scribble some numbers down and scrawl his signature on the receipt before reaching for his wallet once more.

"Um, thanks," she finally said, feeling slightly perturbed at the entire this-is-not-a-date-but-Wally-just-bought-dinner-situation. Awkward turtles were once forever banned from her menagerie, but apparently they didn't get the memorandum and have come waddling back into her life.

"No problem," he replied lightly.

Artemis suddenly muttered something about using the restrooms and scooted out of the booth, her limbs acting on their own accord as her brain had suddenly overdosed on the possibility of over-analyzing the situation. Wally gave her a small nod and she hurried away.

Wally slid down on the vinyl seat, dragged by the heaviness of his stomach and eyelids. He stretched his legs underneath the table until it hit the bottom Artemis's empty booth. He looked up and stared at the unoccupied space and then realization smacked him in the face like a dodgeball.

He had just bought dinner for Artemis—the Empress of Snark, the Ringmaster of Irks, and the bane of his existence.

Not only had he bought dinner for her, but he had actually just eaten dinner with her—complete with dessert!

Wally grumbled something incoherent. Apparently his brain was already senile, and it was becoming more addled by the day. Or, maybe he had somehow contracted mad cow disease from a contaminated piece of steak, and a gaggle of prions were now coming together as aggregates, forming dense plaque fibers, and hosting frat-parties in the resulting holes in his brain.

At this point, contracting bovine spongiform encephalopathy was definitely more plausible than him acting on his free will to have dinner with Artemis—and then willingly pay for it all too.

It was preposterous! It was ridiculous! It was laughable!

But it had felt…nice.

Although he would never admit this to anyone—not even Rob—this was actually his first time purchasing anything for a girl outside of family.

And it had felt nice.

It didn't make him break out into a jack-o-lantern smile nor did it shoot an urge for him to fist-pump and bro-fist everyone in the restaurant, but it did make him feel more wholesome. There was a cozy cottage in his soul, and the fireplace was burning bright in front of a couch of cotton throws and hot chocolate.

At least the noise of the faucet was having a calming effect on Artemis. She was able to concentrate on visualizing her jumble of thoughts materialize into the shimmering silver string of water and disappear down the drain. They would eventually rush into the ocean and become nothing more than a swirl of shining bubbles behind a dolphin's tail as it swam into the horizon where the water met the night sky—a sky full of stars—stars that Wally had traced with his fingers while he lay next to her on the beach.

Artemis flinched and slammed her hand noisily at the soap dispenser, only to awkwardly discover it was automated. The woman next to her shot her a look mixed with pity and bewilderment, before quickly walking out of the restroom, thankfully leaving Artemis alone.

She slowly lathered her hands with soap, and although her eyes were focused on the frothing white bubbles sliding smoothly on her skin, her mind was elsewhere.

This was absurd, she thought, as there was absolutely nothing to ponder about.

So what she had just shared dinner with Wally at a pleasant sit-down restaurant—there wasn't a law that banned friends or teammates from having a meal together.

So what the hostess had annoyed her to the ninth circle of hell and back—she would have annoyed even a toddler with that irritatingly high voice and disgustingly open manner of flirting.

So what she and Wally had surprisingly showed more amity than animosity towards each other during the entire meal—the food was honestly distracting, and it was difficult to quip when all the blood has rushed to your digestive organs.

And so what Wally had just paid for her dinner—she was going to buy them lunch tomorrow. It was a fair trade, and nothing short of being businesslike.

The silk between her fingers was morphing into the consistency of molasses as the soap dried. She turned on the faucet once more, and watched as the water brought the bubbles back to life as they slid off her skin.

She was not naïve—she recognized the intruding seed that was sprouting these thoughts. However, she refused to water the soil, or clear the clouds for sunlight. Maybe the seed would disintegrate as an insignificant piece of lint in her heart, and not wilt like a blood-red rose with razor-thorns like last time…

She looked up at her reflection—and two distracted dark eyes gazed desolately back. Nearly two years had passed since that rose lost its last petal, but at least the memory of the beast and his castle was still alive inside her heart, serving as a warning. She was wiser now; she would not be the fool again.

Wally had almost drifted into a post-dinner snooze when Artemis suddenly poked him in the shoulder.

"I could hear you snoring from the restrooms."

Wally lazily rolled his head up until he could make out her silhouette through his eyelashes.

"Artemis? Is that you?" he groaned. "This is a terrible nightmare…"

She jabbed him in the shoulder again, effectively causing his balance to teeter until he was forced to prop an arm on the space beside him to prevent from spilling all over the seat in a jumble of limbs.

"Oh come on," she prodded. "Let's go so you can drool in your bed instead of innocent restaurant furniture."

Wally languidly pushed himself upright, and then slowly scooted out of the booth like a half-tranquilized bear.

Artemis sighed, and shifted her weight so she could tap her foot impatiently.

"Any day now..."

"This had to be at least plus-two points," he remarked sluggishly.

"Nuh uh," Artemis argued, her eyes following his as he finally stood up. "I'm buying lunch tomorrow, remember? So this holds no point-value."

"That lunch better be worth me losing two points," he mumbled as he meandered through the restaurant.

"You did not lose any points!" Artemis argued as she followed.

"But, I could have gained some," he pointed out.

"Fine, if you want your two stupid points, you can buy lunch tomorrow too."

"No way, Arty." He looked back at her and grinned. "I'm not that desperate for your 'stupid points'."

"I don't give them out; you beg for them."

"I earn them," he corrected her as they passed through the restaurant doors and out into the night.

They walked in silence, and with only had one longing desire on their minds—the moment when they could finally crawl into bed and hibernate away the feast they had just consumed. The after-meal stupor still held its effect on the normally hyper-active speedster, and he was thankfully not unleashing his inner spirit-windmill again.

The black sky above spangled with stars, and a few lone clouds glowed pearly gray in the full moon like ghostly tiger-stripes. As Wally and Artemis left the main portion of town and turned down a less populated side-road, the world hushed into a mysterious halcyon only the night could bring forth.

However, paradise is oftentimes merely an illusion—the anticipated moment of silence as the beast inhales before attacking. As they passed an unlit alleyway tucked between two brick buildings, a sudden voice startled them both from their evening reveries.

"Hello, my little Tigress."

Artemis froze, and so did her heart.

That voice.

She whipped her head towards the darkness and heard the thudding of incoming footsteps. Beside her, Wally also halted in mid-step and tensed, every muscle straining in apprehension.

When the owner of the voice emerged in the yellow light of the streetlamp, Artemis's breath died in her throat. You…!

But before she could will herself to breathe, Wally rushed forward with his inhuman speed, grabbed the other teenage boy by the neck, and shoved him against the alley's wall with a grating crunch.

"Icicle Junior!" Wally snarled, baring his teeth. "What are you doing out of Belle Reve?!"

His victim coughed and sputtered, and strained to pry himself from his grip. Artemis finally shook herself out of the binds of shock and silence.

"Wally!" she cried, and reached out to pull his arm. "Stop! Put him down!"

Wally loosened his hand and Icicle Jr. slid to the floor, choking and massaging his neck.

"Your boyfriend sure has an iron-like grip to match his temper, Tigress," he leered.

"What are you doing out of Belle Reve?!" Wally yelled again, brushing past the other's comment.

"Warden let me out on parole due to good behavior," Icicle Jr. explained haughtily. He then straightened and turned to Artemis. "I came here to see you, Tigress."

He stared at her with a familiar and forlorn look, and Artemis was suddenly brought back to when she was fourteen, and had just said her final good-bye to him at her doorsteps. It was a wound that still caused her heart to ache, and her resolve almost dissipated. But then she remembered: she had broken up with him, and for a reason.

"Don't call me that, Cameron," she finally spat out venomously. She swiftly pulled her crossbow from her jacket and unfolded it with a resonating click.

Cameron's eyes fell on the weapon and he raised his hands in submission. "Babe, I didn't come here to fight. I just wanted to talk."

"Don't call me that either," she growled.

Beside her, Wally crunched his hands into fists.

"'Babe'?" he repeated in appalling disbelief, looking between Cameron and Artemis. "What the hell is going on here?"

"None of your business," sneered the other boy. He fluidly slid from his trapped position to stand more in the open, and consequently closer to Artemis.

"Artemis." Cameron locked his eyes on hers and his tone suddenly changed from a lion to a lamb. "I honestly just wanted to talk. You know I wouldn't fight you. You can bind and take me in right now, but I would never fight you. You know that."

"You're a dirty liar!" Wally snapped, stepping in front of Artemis. "Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't—"

He stopped when he felt Artemis's hand on his shoulder, and twisted his head around at the touch. She was looking at him a composed expression that stood wildly in contrast to the ferocity burning inside him.

"Wally," she said firmly, "I can handle this on my own."

"Artemis, he's a criminal. He assisted in the attempted prison break at Belle Reve. How do we know that the only reason he's here—" He jabbed a finger at Cameron's chest. "—is because they actually succeeded this time?"

"If that had actually happened," interrupted Cameron testily, and Wally glared at him, "there would have been major attacks in all the cities by now."

He peered around Wally and caught Artemis's eye. "I really just came here to talk to you, I promise."

"You're not getting anywhere near her—" Wally swore, his voice frothing with venom.

"Wally…"

"—and you're damn right as hell we're going to bind you and take you in right now!"

"Wally!"

He spun around. His wild eyes locked on Artemis's, and she stared indignantly back.

"Stop it!" she demanded.

"Why?" he insisted irately. "Do you actually believe him?"

"Yes!"

"What?" His eyes quivered with shock. "Why?"

Artemis released a sharp sigh, and began to explain, her voice unwavering and void of any indication of a lie: "Cameron and I dated for a year, and before that, we were best friends…"

Wally balked, his mind stuttering with the new information. For some reason, it stung more than if she had physically punched him. He remained silent, and the sound of his rough breathing was the only sound in the alleyway.

"Ouch," piped up Cameron. "Guess you didn't tell your new boyfriend that tidbit of information from your past…"

Wally and Artemis whipped around and yelled at the same time.

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"I'm not her boyfriend!"

"Great!" Cameron beamed and threw up his hands. "Then you wouldn't mind if I borrowed her for a few minutes just to talk."

"Yeah I do," Wally retorted back in a guttural snarl.

"Wally."

His eyes returned to Artemis.

"Wally," she continued, her voice steadier than her breathing, "just—I'll meet you back at the Cave, okay?"

"Are you insane?" he barked. "I'm not leaving you alone with him!"

"I'm not a five-year-old, Wally," returned Artemis, her temper rising, "I can take care of myself!"

"That's not the point!"

"Oh, and what is?" Her face was just mere inches away from him, and so close he could feel the heat radiate from her skin, adding to his own heap of embers. "You don't want to see me talking to another guy, is that it?" she hissed.

He tightened his jaw and stared silently at her. Even in the low light Artemis could see the muscles in his face and neck tense.

"I don't trust him," he finally stated.

"You don't know him," she countered.

"He's a criminal," he yelled, "and that's all I need to know not to trust him alone with you!"

"I can't believe you're acting like you own me, Wally, because news flash: you don't!"

She practically screamed those last words, and as soon as they left her lips she immediately wish she could turn back time. Wally stiffened, and the glint in his eye sharpened, and if Artemis was a weaker girl, she would have recoiled from the sudden darkening of his visage.

"Fine. If you can't appreciate me trying to…" he heatedly looked away, searching furiously for the word, "help you—" his glare returned to her face, "then….fine."

There was no throwing up of the hands; no more additions to the list of accusations. He didn't even yell. His words were whispered in an eerie hush, but it was a fervent hush that rose from burning coals.

Before Artemis could say another word, he turned his back to her, and she was besieged with regret. She wanted to stop him, but neither her hand nor her voice reached out fast enough, and with a rush of air he had disappeared.

She considered chasing after him, but then remembered the cause of this…incident, and she whirled around to see Cameron leaning against the brick wall of the alleyway with a smirk on his face.

"You sure he's not your boyfriend? Sure acts like it."

"What do you want." It was not a question, but a statement—a demanding statement that flashed her irritation of the entire situation like neon lights. She propped one hand on her hip, and tilted her head the opposite direction, clearly insisting on anything but bullshit.

Cameron's leer dissolved to reveal a tender smile and softened eyes. "I just missed you, that's all. The first thing I wanted to do after I was released on parole was to see you."

He may be able to pull a quick-change in expression, but Artemis was resolute on her face of stone. "Well, you can take a picture—it lasts longer."

"It's good to know you haven't changed, Tigress," he spoke with mirth.

He shifted his stance slightly so the streetlamp illuminated his face. Two years had passed since Artemis had last seen him, and in those two years his face had become more angular, his blue eyes more piercing, and his overall demeanor…harsher. She narrowed her eyes.

"I already told you," Artemis answered while resisting the desire to slap him, "don't call me that. I'm not your Tigress—not anymore."

"I—I'm sorry," he stammered, taken aback by her unrelenting resentment, "I just…I miss you, and—"

"And what." She was throwing daggers at him; her patience was evaporating.

Cameron drew in a ragged breath. "And I'm sorry," he finally exhaled.

Her eyes narrowed, and she felt the muscles in the back of her neck tense. No. They were not going to go back to that incident again.

"I'm not taking you back, if that's what you're after," she retaliated fiercely.

His eyes widened, and his shoulders slumped forward.

"I could never forgive you for what you did, Cameron." She paused. The sudden surge of excruciating memories nearly blinded her, but her resolve stood firm against the deluge of flashbacks. "And I'm not going back to that lifestyle."

"How'd you do it?" he asked suddenly.

Her eyes quickly flickered from rage to puzzlement.

"Do what?"

"Make the switch," he elaborated quietly, "escape your dad."

Artemis swallowed and her gaze shifted skywards, where she found herself tracing the constellation of Ursa Minor with her eyes until she was left staring at the North Star.

"I just realized one night that what my parents did—and still do—is not what I want." She turned back to face him. "This is my life; not my dad's."

"And I bet he's real happy with that."

"I don't care. He left."

A hush fell between them, blanketing everything in darkness. Cameron's eyes focused on Artemis's shoulders, and he fought the burning urge to grab them and pull her into an embrace for eternity. He had been dreaming of this moment for too long, and the perfection of his imagination was now a burning poker stick of disappointment. It wasn't supposed to be this way; he would find her and pour his heart to her, she would forgive him and return to his arms, and they would live happily ever after in their winter wonderland as King and Queen of their glittering tundra kingdom.

But imagination is what one imagines; realization is what defines reality, and with a sickening drop of his heart, Cameron realized that winter wonderland had long melted away from the fire of his actions nearly two years ago.

"I guess this is good-bye then—again," he sighed, his voice ragged and somber.

"Cam…" She sighed, her patience fading fast like her floating clouds of breath. "I really wish I could still call you my friend, but after what you did to me—"

"It's okay," he interrupted, not desiring to have her push the knives of regret deeper into his flesh. "I guess I didn't really expect you to forgive me, even if it has been nearly two years."

"Then why'd you come here tonight?" she demanded, crossing her arms. "Why'd you risk a fight by showing your face when you already knew there was nothing here but disappointment for you?"

"I told you—I just wanted to see you, and—"

"Well, you got your wish." She turned to leave.

"Artemis—"

She looked over her shoulder and spared him a glance out the corner of her eye. "Good-bye, Cameron."

She heard him sigh once more behind her, but she focused on putting one foot in front of the other until the alley was behind her.

She was wiser now; she would not be the fool again.

She looked up from the ground and was surprised to see Wally, sitting on a discreet sidewalk bench that still maintained a clear vantage point of the alley entrance. His expression remained impassive as she walked up, and he rose to join her without a word. The two continued down the street in silence, but with a wholly opposite atmosphere than when they had left the restaurant.

The stillness was suffocating, and Artemis desperately wanted to breathe, but every time she would map out her words in her mind, her heart would race and convince her she didn't have enough courage.

She knew what Wally was thinking. She knew what types of shameful judgments he was silently accusing her of.

And she also knew that he was waiting for an explanation from her—something more than that brief and heated confession back in the alley.

But she was scared—scared that the expanded truth may be worse than the confessions in his imagination, and that he would shun her. If he also told the Team, they would alienate her too, and may go to the extreme of demanding her to cut all bonds and leave—forever.

She had to tell him though, but she would only divulge only the information necessary. She wasn't ready to reveal the identity of her family—not yet.

Her inwards debate concluded just as they arrived at the Cave entrance. Wally opened the latch, and before Artemis could find the opportune moment to speak, he was gone. Only the fading wind surrounding her hair as it floated over her shoulder gave any indication the speedster had been next to her just seconds ago.

She let him go. It was easier to douse a candle than an inferno.

Most boys his age unleashed their rage through their muscles at the gym, but Wally West took showers.

When he was younger, his anger brought forth millions of wicked thoughts and equally wicked actions. He would throw untamable tantrums and lash out like a feral beast, until one day, the beast became so uncontrollable that he accidentally injured his mother. From that horrifying moment on, he vowed to unleash his frustrations through another route.

Showers allowed him to think in peace. They also occupied his limbs so his mind wouldn't be completely consumed in hatred, and his bottled-energy had a release. If the hot water didn't purify his emotions, at least it cleaned him physically.

Wally sped to the showers and shed his clothes haphazardly in the locker room with the same unblinking speed. He turned on the hot water, and it was only when the stream hit his bare skin did he allow himself to exhale through his gritted teeth.

He was feeling every emotion that he hated to acknowledge. He was angry. He was hurt. He was confused. He was disappointed.

"Cameron and I dated for a year, and before that, we were best friends…"

He thought he knew her, but apparently it was all secrets and lies.

Wally wasn't all that surprised to see her sitting on the locker room bench, eyes directed to the floor, waiting for him. He tightened the towel around his waist and waited.

Artemis nervously crossed her legs and jangled her foot, her eyes still not meeting his.

Patience wasn't Wally's forte—or mezzo-forte—and his shower hadn't quite washed away all his sullied emotions.

"Well?" he began. "Are you just going to sit there quietly or are you going to finally do some explaining?"

Judging from her startled expression, his words probably came out more caustic than intended. But Wally stood firm and remained quiet for her response.

"What do you want me to say?" she finally answered, her voice low and husky.

"Uh." Wally put his hands on his hips. "What you have to say…?"

"He honestly just wanted to talk, and—"

"What else are you hiding from m—" Wally stopped himself, and started over. "What else are you hiding from us?"

She uncrossed and crossed her legs, and moved her hands from her lap to rest on the edge of the bench. "Wally, I don't think the past is relevant to—"

"Not relevant?" his voice rose. "You dated a well-known criminal! Obviously you—"

"Dated!" she yelled back, jumping to her feet and looking into his eyes finally. "Past tense!"

"What were you doing with that crowd anyway, huh, Artemis?"

"I—"

"Am I going to pass Clayface one day and he's going to also want to talk to you?"

Artemis's heart turned to jagged ice, and her vision literally blurred from the fury seething inside her. She had been prepared to tell Wally everything tonight, but if he wanted to be an ass, then fine.

"You can buy your own lunch tomorrow," she coldly hissed, before whipping around and walking silently away.

Wally glared at her retreating back, and when she disappeared out the door, he spun around and punched the nearest locker, forever immortalizing the imprint of his fist into the metal.

Never in his life had his heart felt so raw—like it was burning up in flames and drowning in the arctic sea at the same time.

A/N: I'm just overwhelmed with how much love this story has gotten—on here and on Tumblr—and I really owe it all to you. I am merely the humble scribe that records the events of these characters, but it's you who truly breathes life into the words and paragraphs, as a story isn't a story until it enters the imagination of its readers.

So, thank you.

Also, thank you Satellites On Parade for continuing to be my awesome beta. You + me = love forever.