[ f i c ] Turn it Around - Robin/Artemis
Title: Turn it Around
Fandom: Young Justice
Pairing: Dick/Artemis
Words: 1500
Rating: PG13
Summary: Artemis has a bad day. Dick isn't particularly helpful.
Wally sends her a text and Artemis swears she’s going to disembowel him when he gets to Mount Justice. M’gann follows up a few minutes later with a consolation smiley and says it wasn’t that bad. All Artemis knows is that she’s glad she lives in Gotham, because at least there she won’t be subjected to a newscast of herself tripping and doing a faceplant against Green Arrow’s chest only to lose her balance and fall off the ledge down into a batch of wet cement from which Ollie has to pull her out while the villain gets away with the Mayor’s keys to the city. As if that’s not embarrassing enough, Artemis had to find the nearest fire hydrant and spray the cement off her clothes and hair before it dries, in front of a crowd of people either snickering or looking at her like she should pick a new job, because sidekicking isn’t really her thing.
Water drips from her hair as she steps out of the transporter and shivers at Mount Justice’s drafty air. She always finds herself missing Star City’s warmer weather when she’s back in Gotham or Happy Harbor’s winter clutches. If it weren’t for her mother and Dick, she would probably seriously consider moving to Star City permanently. It would certainly make it easier to fulfill her duties as Green Arrow’s sidekick.
Force of habit makes her hang her uniform to dry in the locker room, even though the reddened, tender swell on her hip tempts her to just dump the sopping mess on the floor and head upstairs to nap. Her ankle twinges when she bends it back and forth and she sighs, resigned to the aches and pains of the non-meta hero life. Though she supposes Wally’s permanent hunger pangs are a pretty sucky price to pay for super speed and healing.
Her quiver and bow receive much more attentive care than her uniform as she checks for remnants of cement by running her fingernail through each crevasse of the beautiful, hand-made Navajo relic Roy gave her for her birthday a month ago. She’s glad he’s off in Vietnam (for reasons she’s still preferring to turn a blind eye to, because she’s lost track of how many times she’s warned him about her sister) because that means she doesn’t have to expect a phone call from him dryly asking her if she’s grown any from that lanky, snippy, baby sidekick she was three years ago. No thanks. Artemis can do without the annoying older brother routine he seems so fond of.
Satisfied that her bow and arrow fletches are truly clean, she hangs her bow and quiver, stuffs her feet into a pair of soft moccasins and heads out of the lockers to the living areas. Her bones ache from the fall, though falling on wet cement is marginally better than falling on dry cement, so she supposes she should be thankful. She looks around the empty living room and remembers that M’gann and Conner went out watch that ridiculous aliens and cowboys movie that came out. Artemis scoffs and pulls up her hoodie around her face, sticking her hands in the pockets and shuffling through the balance of Conner’s messiness and M’gann’s attempts to clean up after him. He’s come a long way from the stiff clone boy of three years ago, acquiring various personality quirks such as general teenage sloppiness and a penchant for heavy metal bands. Lately he’s even got Kaldur into Metallica, which Artemis does applaud.
Another text. Artemis checks and it’s Wally again, saying that there’s a meme running around already with her face planted squarely against Ollie’s chest saying ‘arrowcest: ur doing it rite’. Artemis groans and hits her cellphone against her forehead. Shitty, shitty day.
A burst of laughter distracts her from her self-berating litany of threats to Wally’s wellbeing and lamentations about how sucky her week has been so far. She looks up at the open door at the end of the hallway, torn between being glad that someone is having a good day and resentment at it, because yes, Artemis is sometimes kind of bitchy like that where she ends up being irritated that other people are so ridiculously cheerful when she just wants to roll herself into a blanket and suffocate. She decides that a nap on Dick’s bed sounds more comfortable, so she walks past her door. She knocks on his doorframe and he looks up from his computer, face bathed in blue.
“Hey, ‘Mis,” Dick says, his grin suspiciously wide for a Wednesday afternoon. Artemis eyes it with caution born from personal experience with Dick’s more… mischievous side.
“Practice ended early?” she asks instead, leaning against the doorway on the shoulder that doesn’t ache like it got hit by a bag of bricks. Artemis is on the Mathletes team as well, but she prefers being an alternate, so she doesn’t bother going regularly like Dick.
“Mmm? Yeah,” he says, gaze flickering between Artemis and whatever’s on his screen. Artemis hates it when he ignores her for League of Legends or whatever online RPG he’s currently into. There’s only so many times Dick can claim ‘but my teammates need me!’ as an excuse.
“Dick,” she says sternly, and Dick’s head whips back. He blinks innocently at her, a trick that has lost much of its effect now that he’s finally lost his baby fat and his shoulders have widened. Though the domino always has the odd effect of making him seem younger.
“Sorry,” he says, face perfectly neutral like the Swiss. Artemis doesn’t buy it, and sure enough, it only takes a second before he cracks and his lips quirk. “It’s just… has anyone ever told you that you make cement seem like a good look?”
Artemis wants Ivy’s plants to spring from the earth and swallow her alive. She buries her head in her hands. She can still smell gravel and limestone on her fingers. “Fuck my life. Are you serious? What were you even doing watch Star City news?”
“Oh, I didn’t find it there. It’s on Youtube, recommended videos.”
Artemis decides she can spare one hand from shielding her face from utter embarrassment to flick him off. Dick laughs like the huge asshole he is.
“Man, your face when you were falling.” He slaps his knee as he laughs. “Pure gold. It has 200,000 views already. Seven of those are mine.”
“Seriously, can this day get any worse?” Of course, she chooses that exact moment to step backward, bumping her bruised hip against the doorframe. Bone-deep pain flares up, burning like a low flame, and she bites her lip, doubling over as she rides the pain out and mutters every obscenity she knows.
“Oh… ‘Mis.” Dick’s voice is suddenly soft, and Artemis looks up to find him frowning, head tilted. He beckons her closer and she doesn’t hesitate before stepping up to him. Dick pulls down the hem of her sweats and tsks at the red, swollen skin.
“That’s going to bruise pretty spectacularly by tomorrow.”
“Oh really? I wasn’t aware.”
He knows her temper well enough to ignore it. “You get hurt anywhere else?” he asks, pulling her carefully by the waist to settle her on his lap. She only winces slightly as he hip presses briefly against him. She fits on his lap now. Just barely - he’s still slim, with the perfect acrobat’s build, but at least they’re the same height now, which makes positioning-for all sorts of things- easier. His fingers settle on the back of her neck and rub small circles there as his other hand skims along her arms and chest, checking for other injuries. Artemis hums softly, leaning against him. His hair is oily-he probably didn’t get a chance to shower after gym class. The musky smell mixes with the dense scent of Kevlar and latex, but she’s too used to it to mind.
“Just a few bruises. Maybe twisted ankle. No big.”
He mutters something under his breath that sounds like no big deal my ass, but he doesn’t comment because in their line of work, it’s true. She presses the line of her body against him, even though in a hoodie and sweatpants it looks a lot less sensual that what she envisioned in her head. Despite that, Dick still hums appreciatively and nuzzles her neck. “How about we turn your day around with a movie and popcorn?”
“And other things?” she breathes, flicking the tip of her tongue against the shell of his ear.
Dick shivers a little, voice pitched deeper as he answer, “And other things.”
Fandom: Young Justice
Pairing: Dick/Artemis
Words: 1500
Rating: PG13
Summary: Artemis has a bad day. Dick isn't particularly helpful.
Wally sends her a text and Artemis swears she’s going to disembowel him when he gets to Mount Justice. M’gann follows up a few minutes later with a consolation smiley and says it wasn’t that bad. All Artemis knows is that she’s glad she lives in Gotham, because at least there she won’t be subjected to a newscast of herself tripping and doing a faceplant against Green Arrow’s chest only to lose her balance and fall off the ledge down into a batch of wet cement from which Ollie has to pull her out while the villain gets away with the Mayor’s keys to the city. As if that’s not embarrassing enough, Artemis had to find the nearest fire hydrant and spray the cement off her clothes and hair before it dries, in front of a crowd of people either snickering or looking at her like she should pick a new job, because sidekicking isn’t really her thing.
Water drips from her hair as she steps out of the transporter and shivers at Mount Justice’s drafty air. She always finds herself missing Star City’s warmer weather when she’s back in Gotham or Happy Harbor’s winter clutches. If it weren’t for her mother and Dick, she would probably seriously consider moving to Star City permanently. It would certainly make it easier to fulfill her duties as Green Arrow’s sidekick.
Force of habit makes her hang her uniform to dry in the locker room, even though the reddened, tender swell on her hip tempts her to just dump the sopping mess on the floor and head upstairs to nap. Her ankle twinges when she bends it back and forth and she sighs, resigned to the aches and pains of the non-meta hero life. Though she supposes Wally’s permanent hunger pangs are a pretty sucky price to pay for super speed and healing.
Her quiver and bow receive much more attentive care than her uniform as she checks for remnants of cement by running her fingernail through each crevasse of the beautiful, hand-made Navajo relic Roy gave her for her birthday a month ago. She’s glad he’s off in Vietnam (for reasons she’s still preferring to turn a blind eye to, because she’s lost track of how many times she’s warned him about her sister) because that means she doesn’t have to expect a phone call from him dryly asking her if she’s grown any from that lanky, snippy, baby sidekick she was three years ago. No thanks. Artemis can do without the annoying older brother routine he seems so fond of.
Satisfied that her bow and arrow fletches are truly clean, she hangs her bow and quiver, stuffs her feet into a pair of soft moccasins and heads out of the lockers to the living areas. Her bones ache from the fall, though falling on wet cement is marginally better than falling on dry cement, so she supposes she should be thankful. She looks around the empty living room and remembers that M’gann and Conner went out watch that ridiculous aliens and cowboys movie that came out. Artemis scoffs and pulls up her hoodie around her face, sticking her hands in the pockets and shuffling through the balance of Conner’s messiness and M’gann’s attempts to clean up after him. He’s come a long way from the stiff clone boy of three years ago, acquiring various personality quirks such as general teenage sloppiness and a penchant for heavy metal bands. Lately he’s even got Kaldur into Metallica, which Artemis does applaud.
Another text. Artemis checks and it’s Wally again, saying that there’s a meme running around already with her face planted squarely against Ollie’s chest saying ‘arrowcest: ur doing it rite’. Artemis groans and hits her cellphone against her forehead. Shitty, shitty day.
A burst of laughter distracts her from her self-berating litany of threats to Wally’s wellbeing and lamentations about how sucky her week has been so far. She looks up at the open door at the end of the hallway, torn between being glad that someone is having a good day and resentment at it, because yes, Artemis is sometimes kind of bitchy like that where she ends up being irritated that other people are so ridiculously cheerful when she just wants to roll herself into a blanket and suffocate. She decides that a nap on Dick’s bed sounds more comfortable, so she walks past her door. She knocks on his doorframe and he looks up from his computer, face bathed in blue.
“Hey, ‘Mis,” Dick says, his grin suspiciously wide for a Wednesday afternoon. Artemis eyes it with caution born from personal experience with Dick’s more… mischievous side.
“Practice ended early?” she asks instead, leaning against the doorway on the shoulder that doesn’t ache like it got hit by a bag of bricks. Artemis is on the Mathletes team as well, but she prefers being an alternate, so she doesn’t bother going regularly like Dick.
“Mmm? Yeah,” he says, gaze flickering between Artemis and whatever’s on his screen. Artemis hates it when he ignores her for League of Legends or whatever online RPG he’s currently into. There’s only so many times Dick can claim ‘but my teammates need me!’ as an excuse.
“Dick,” she says sternly, and Dick’s head whips back. He blinks innocently at her, a trick that has lost much of its effect now that he’s finally lost his baby fat and his shoulders have widened. Though the domino always has the odd effect of making him seem younger.
“Sorry,” he says, face perfectly neutral like the Swiss. Artemis doesn’t buy it, and sure enough, it only takes a second before he cracks and his lips quirk. “It’s just… has anyone ever told you that you make cement seem like a good look?”
Artemis wants Ivy’s plants to spring from the earth and swallow her alive. She buries her head in her hands. She can still smell gravel and limestone on her fingers. “Fuck my life. Are you serious? What were you even doing watch Star City news?”
“Oh, I didn’t find it there. It’s on Youtube, recommended videos.”
Artemis decides she can spare one hand from shielding her face from utter embarrassment to flick him off. Dick laughs like the huge asshole he is.
“Man, your face when you were falling.” He slaps his knee as he laughs. “Pure gold. It has 200,000 views already. Seven of those are mine.”
“Seriously, can this day get any worse?” Of course, she chooses that exact moment to step backward, bumping her bruised hip against the doorframe. Bone-deep pain flares up, burning like a low flame, and she bites her lip, doubling over as she rides the pain out and mutters every obscenity she knows.
“Oh… ‘Mis.” Dick’s voice is suddenly soft, and Artemis looks up to find him frowning, head tilted. He beckons her closer and she doesn’t hesitate before stepping up to him. Dick pulls down the hem of her sweats and tsks at the red, swollen skin.
“That’s going to bruise pretty spectacularly by tomorrow.”
“Oh really? I wasn’t aware.”
He knows her temper well enough to ignore it. “You get hurt anywhere else?” he asks, pulling her carefully by the waist to settle her on his lap. She only winces slightly as he hip presses briefly against him. She fits on his lap now. Just barely - he’s still slim, with the perfect acrobat’s build, but at least they’re the same height now, which makes positioning-for all sorts of things- easier. His fingers settle on the back of her neck and rub small circles there as his other hand skims along her arms and chest, checking for other injuries. Artemis hums softly, leaning against him. His hair is oily-he probably didn’t get a chance to shower after gym class. The musky smell mixes with the dense scent of Kevlar and latex, but she’s too used to it to mind.
“Just a few bruises. Maybe twisted ankle. No big.”
He mutters something under his breath that sounds like no big deal my ass, but he doesn’t comment because in their line of work, it’s true. She presses the line of her body against him, even though in a hoodie and sweatpants it looks a lot less sensual that what she envisioned in her head. Despite that, Dick still hums appreciatively and nuzzles her neck. “How about we turn your day around with a movie and popcorn?”
“And other things?” she breathes, flicking the tip of her tongue against the shell of his ear.
Dick shivers a little, voice pitched deeper as he answer, “And other things.”