and green all over

[txt] Oh shit, sorry, I got caught up in something

[txt] I need to finish reprogramming some of my data stores so I don't have people poking around in there, then I'll be over.

Are you sure? I thought it was the Cheshire Cat. Or the March Hare. Or maybe the Joker. Or some random clown with too much time on his hands. Hey diddle diddle, the clown and the riddle, you know that old rhyme.

brick + mortar - terrible things

"When you said you’d steal the… the stars for me if I wanted them, did that bracket include a little extra t-time?"

He means it as a joke, maybe, but any humor in the statement falls flat long before his voice cracks, a lump welling up in his throat. Eddie swallows, fights it down, blinks away the sudden pinpricks on the back of his eyelids.

"…Eddie, I’m so sorry," is all Babs can say, voice quiet, tortured. She rolls forward, the MRI brain scan copies sliding off her lap to be forgotten on the floor of their dinky, musty motel room purchased under assumed names.

"It’s okay," he says, but it isn’t. It isn’t as if they hadn’t both known what they were getting into, Eddie already diagnosed with a seven month expiration date back in April when they’d met.

They’ve made a dangerous couple in the meantime at least, given Catwoman a run for her money as far as thievery went. They’ll be infamous forever, a sort of modern Bonnie and Clyde, but that’s small comfort for Eddie, who… has a month left, two at most, and he doesn’t want to die like this, on the run and wasting away in seedy motel rooms while the chemo and the cancer make him progressively sicker. He’s already starting to lose motor coordination, he can’t speak without stuttering, he can’t think without feeling fuzzy around the edges (and that’s by far the worst part).

"I-I just… just always thought I’d go out in a… b-bang or something, you know?"

She’s silent for a long moment, and Eddie almost thinks he’s being abandoned when Babs turns her chair around and heads for the door, until she stops just short of it to say something.

"I think the air in here is going to poison me. Let’s go for a drive."

The police are on the lookout for our car, we have to lay low, you know that—he doesn’t say, and swallows thickly, the knowledge passing between them that if they walk out that door, they’ll never make it back alive.

History repeats itself. Eddie thinks of Bonnie and Clyde.

"I can explain!" Dick is saying, complete with wild hand gestures to illustrate his point, although honestly Eddie has no idea what point that is, and feels a strong urge to duck before he gets accidentally punched in the face. Maybe he’s trying to perform some sort of… magic warding ritual, seeing as Dick has parked himself firmly in front of the door to their dorm room, and has been denying him access for the past fifteen minutes.

"I don’t care,” Eddie snaps back, neurotically adjusting his glasses, and eyes the door handle under Dick’s flailing arm, wondering if he possesses enough speed or force to reach it. In the end, the best option seems to be to make a dive for the door handle—Dick lunges for him when he does, arms wrapping around his torso, but not before the door has swung open just enough to reveal…

Glitter. What can only be about a tonne of glitter, covering every surface imaginable.

"This is incredibly inappropriate,” Eddie protests hotly, even as Jason pushes him flush against the edge of his desk. He tries to find some sort of leverage, but only manages to put his elbow in a mug of cold coffee, tipping it over and sending it spilling over sheets of hand copied computer code and students’ essays. oddly enough, he can’t bring himself to care much, but he’s always had a hard time focusing when Jason makes that look at him, eyes dark and mouth curved upward in a shark-toothed smile, looking ravenous, as if he hadn’t eaten in days, was about to devour Edward alive—

"Hey, I’m not even asking for a grade this time," Jason shoots back, and even though he’s still giving Eddie the look, he manages to sound completely innocent. “And I gotta keep up with my extra-curriculars,” he adds, an afterthought as he leans in.

It’s not that was trying to seduce his boss—okay, well, maybe a little, but to be fair, so was everyone else, so Eddie had really needed to step up his game, take things to the extreme if he wanted to be noticed.

…Although on second thought, maybe showing up to the company Christmas party in a backless, very sequined green dress was a little too much.

And then that thought was erased completely when he felt a large, calloused hand come to rest on the bare skin of his back, a rich, deep baritone in his ear: “Edward.”