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Bartholomew Henry Allen II made a trip to the Pacific Northwest, to a loft just south of Downtown Seattle in the Industrial District.
The place was mostly gray with sturdy metal beams embedded into the exposed brick walls. The unit consisted of two floors, the larger living room and kitchen area, and placed above that the ‘bedroom’ accessible by a flight of stairs. Additionally, there was a large bay window overlooking the living space, and even with the curtain pulled over it one could still hear the sound of the storm outside.
The weather of the Emerald City was as dreary as one could expect — rain with a side of cloudy skies and rushing winds, so much so that the droplets outside were hitting the building sideways.
But Bart wasn’t there to admire the lovely ambiance of the Pacific Northwest. In fact, he had made the trek all the way to the city to do a task that involved a computer, several monitors, and an absolute labyrinth of wires underneath a desk.
As Bart laid on the floor to better access the computer cables, the owner of the loft was going through her usual routine.
Unsurprisingly, Mia Dearden had fitted her home with a variety of fitness equipment. Alongside some parallettes, kettlebells, and dumbbells, she had hung a pair of wooden gymnastic rings from a load-bearing beam in the unit’s living room.
With a weight vest strapped to her torso, she went through her workout — apparently under the belief that normal rings muscle-ups were not difficult enough.
While Bart played the part of IT Guy and Mia exercised like an absolute unit, the third resident of the loft was currently asleep.
Teddy the sixty-pound pitbull mix — or Viscount Theodore of Dearden, as his master liked to call him — napped on the couch like a giant potato. Despite possibly being the most muscular doggo on the west coast, he was surprisingly lazy. He didn’t even perk up when Bart suddenly sped into his master’s home.
After finishing her final few muscle-ups, Mia let go of the rings and landed on the floor with a distinctive thump. As she wiped a bead of sweat off her brow, she looked over to the speedster currently fixing her computer.
“How’s it looking?”
“You need some cable organizers or something,” Bart said, remaining under the desk like a mechanic would with a car. “There’s like… eighty-five of ‘em down here.”
Mia walked over to grab her water bottle from the coffee table. “Yeah, sorry about that, I haven’t had time to sort that out.”
“Meh… I’ve dealt with worse,” Bart assured, shrugging. “You should see Wally and Linda’s computer set-up, it’s like… cable hentai.”
Being under the table when he spoke, Bart missed Mia’s reaction to his comment, which involved an expression that was equal parts confused, appalled, and horrified.
After shakily taking a sip of water, Mia eyed her big black pittie mix on the couch. Teddy was currently napping on his back, his face and legs twitching slightly as he drifted deeper and deeper into doggy dreamland.
Amused, Mia watched as her dog began spasming more and more. Knowingly, she spent a few more seconds watching, then promptly became a witness to her dog moving so much that he fell off the couch. He landed on the floor with all of the grace of a holiday ham. It was true that the bigger they were, the harder they fell.
Viscount Theodore of Dearden was suddenly awake. With his eyes open, the dog looked around in shock, seemingly sensing that something strange had just happened.
“Take a tumble there, Viscount?” asked Mia, amused.
Teddy shook his head like a torpedo, his ears flapping as he did so, then began wandering the loft, as per usual.
As Mia hopped up to the gymnastics rings again, Bart continued his task of setting up the computer, which still boiled down to organizing the mess of cables underneath the desk.
Eventually, Bart finally retrieved the other end of the HDMI cable and plugged it into her PC. After booting up the ‘Big Black Box’ — as Mia liked to call it — the Speedster felt something nudging his leg.
After shuffling his upper half out from under the desk, Bart sat up to see Viscount Theodore of Dearden sniffing his ankle.
With a soft smile, Bart reached over to pet the pittie on the head. “Hi, Puppy.”
As Mia finished her final set of weighted muscle ups, Bart sat down in her swivel chair and scooted over to her desk. Sure enough, all three of her monitors lit up, as well as the RGB lights and the liquid cooling unit of the PC.
With her workout finished, Mia let go of the rings and dropped barefoot to the floor. She undid the straps of her weighted vest and let it drop down, then walked over to her desk in the corner of the living room.
“How’s it looking?” she asked, pulling up a chair to sit next to him.
“Everything seems to be in order,” Bart noted, leaning back to let Mia type in her password. He then proceeded to chuckle upon seeing Mia’s wallpaper, which was fittingly a high resolution photograph of Viscount Theodore making the doofiest expression known to dog-kind.
“Nice set up you got here,” he remarked with a grin.
“Yeah, found these in a thrift store for a friggin’ steal,” Mia explained, gesturing to the multiple monitors on her desk. She then began rummaging around her space until she found a small thumb drive. After plugging it into her PC, she opened the file explorer, which then showed her an abundance of folders all sorted by dates and times.
Upon seeing the near endless amount of data, Bart blinked. He hadn’t expected such a tiny drive to carry that much information.
“So… what do you need all this for?” he asked with a nervous voice.
“I’ve been tailing this trafficking operation for months,” Mia explained as she went through the various files.
Upon opening one of the folders, Bart was quick to learn that each and every one of them contained various text logs organized in chronological order. Each message had been sent with an off-the-radar mobile app, one that required more than ‘Incognito Mode’ to get access to.
Such an app was often used by wealthy folks trying to remain untraceable in their dastardly deeds, as each message was quickly erased after being read. But unbeknownst to the users of the app, a plucky blonde in Seattle had just the right connections to ‘unerase’ certain things.
Bart whistled and ran his hand through his hair. “Damn, that’s some dark web shit right there.” He leaned in to get a better look at the screen. “What are they trafficking? Drugs? Weapons? Uh… worse?”
“Weapons,” Mia answered. She began organizing the files by each week they were sent. “Just a bunch of dudes trying to get some AK-47s onto US soil. I got a hunch they’re not planning to take ‘em to the local shooting range.”
Bart hummed as Mia kept up her role as an amateur sleuth.
As always, his mind began wandering and eyes began looking around. He spent a few seconds looking at everything surrounding her monitors — from the top-notch speakers to the framed photograph of Mia and her brothers, from the half-empty bottle of ibuprofen to the newspaper clipping commemorating the time Speedy saved a beloved Seattle dispensary.
Next to the keyboard was a carton of coconut water, several plastic broadheads, a folding knife, and a phone with a cracked screen.
The sight of the damaged tech was enough to make Bart’s heart skip a beat.
“Oh, lord in heaven! Your poor screen!” he exclaimed, clutching his chest for dramatic effect.
“It’s not mine,” Mia assured, keeping her eyes on her monitors. “I stole it off one of the goons and they were dumb enough to not disable it remotely.” She grabbed the busted phone and turned it on, proving to the speedster that it did in fact work despite the multiple cracks.
“I get every text they do,” she explained. “Helps make this investigation faster.”
With a smile, Bart tapped his finger against his temple. “Ahhh, galaxy brain.”
The sound of Mia typing and Viscount Theodore licking his crotch filled the space of the loft. Once again, Bart’s eyes wandered, at first focusing on the calloused hands of his teammate, then noticing the scar tissue on her skin. Suddenly worried, he glanced up to notice the various discolored blemishes all over Mia’s arms, then came to the realization that these were just the ones he could see.
Bart couldn’t remember Mia having this many scars. He wondered if she had accumulated them during her time in the Emerald City, after she had made the announcement that she wanted to have a heroic career of her own.
After giving it a moment’s thought, Bart then came to the realization that Mia had only been operating in Seattle for six months.
Mia’s eyes glanced over and caught Bart staring, prompting the speedster to look away and act like there wasn’t an endless amount of concerns rushing through his head.
“You should come by Titans Tower more often,” the speedster said, for once navigating a conversation with tact. “We could really use you down there.”
Mia leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “I dunno, I think Tim’s all the detective you’ll ever need.”
“Well, Tim’s either busy as shit in Gotham or about to collapse from sleep deprivation, so we could always use another sleuth,” Bart explained in a tone that sounded more joking than serious. “Plus, we like having you around.”
Mia said nothing as the words settled into her. Had Bart’s attention not been caught by another thing in Mia’s loft, he would have witnessed the look of nervous confusion that came upon her face.
Across the room was a table holding various items, things that ranged from spare bow strings, more plastic broadheads, and random PC parts. What had caught Bart’s attention was the gray analogue synthesizer, a metallic contraption reminiscent of the 80s complete with knobs, an attached vocoder, and three octaves worth of piano keys.
“Whoa! You got a Microkorg?” Bart exclaimed as he zipped over to the table. He turned on the instrument and immediately began pressing the keys. “Sweet! I play drums, we should start a synth-pop duo!”
Suddenly a lot less uneasy, Mia stood up from her chair. “It’s just a hobby,” she explained, making her way over. “I bought this on Craigslist, thought it’d be fun.”
With Mia at the helm, she turned one of the instrument’s knobs and began pressing on the keys. A dreamy, chime-like timbre began playing from the device. She pressed the middle C note, then the 4th and the 5th, then a minor chord and a major.
As the archer played a few more notes and adjusted the synthesizer’s knobs, the sound of falling rain outside mixed with the glassy, ambient tones of the instrument. At one point, Bart even leaned over and began pressing on the higher keys. Mia let him, watching as he took to keyboard playing like a duck to water.
“What are you doing tonight?” asked Mia as she played around with the synthesizer’s pitch wheel.
“Not much,” Bart answered like it was nothing. He continued playing with the instrument as if it were the easiest thing in the world, even managing to figure out the built-in arpeggiator. Perhaps this synth-pop duo idea of his wasn’t that farfetched.
“I mean, there’s this big party going on at my college, but some of the frat dudes are like… very weird,” he started, shrugging once more. “Like, one of them called me a beta and I don’t think that had anything to do with the frat. Another called me a soy boy and like… I prefer cow milk, y’know? So… no, I’m not doing anything.”
Mia blinked, then slowly took in the fact that she was never going to get those few seconds back.
Soon, Bart stopped tapping on the synth and looked to his friend. “Why do you ask?”
“Well… I was thinking that I worked up quite the appetite and would like to grab some dinner…” Mia stated, trailing off with a mild nervousness to her voice. “...and I was also wondering if you’d like to join me.”
Bart let out a chuckle, then gave her a pleased, boyish smile. “Hey, I’m always down for food.”
For a moment Mia appeared relieved, then managed to return his smile. “Sweet, lemme just grab my coat.”
Mia turned and took a single step, then immediately stumbled. She was quick to catch herself, planting her hand on the nearby table to keep herself on her feet. Bart looked on, confused, and wondered if perhaps Mia’s leg day was a bit too demanding.
With an awkward chuckle, Mia turned to look at Bart with a sheepish look on her face.
“Uh… can I tell you something else?”
Bart nodded. “Of course.”
“I took an edible two hours ago and I think it’s finally kicking in.”
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When the middle children of the Speedster and Arrow clans discovered that they were on babysitting duty at the same time, they decided to make the best of the situation.
Instead of watching the West twins in Keystone City, Bart gave Jai a Speed Force piggyback ride as he and Irey sped towards the Californian coast. Instead of babysitting Lian in the Harper household, Mia plopped the little one on the back of her motorcycle and took the road to the closest shore.
And now they were here, thriving on a beach somewhere around Big Sur. Bart and Mia were both at ease, their backs against a conveniently placed driftwood log and their eyes on the picturesque sea. Mia had even brought a blanket for them to sit on.
In front of them Lian played a game of Cops and Robbers with the West twins. The younger girl was armed with a toy bow while the twins deflected her small arrows with sticks they found on the ground. It was fortunate that they were so fond of their make-shift playthings, as their current favorite toys had been locked away after the Great Nerf Gun War of Last Week.
Bart didn’t know much about the messy conflict, only that Irey and Jai’s nerf gun privileges were suspended for a month because someone decided to chuck a toy through a window.
The young speedster smiled and leaned back on the log, his bare feet in the sand and a smile on his face. When he glanced at Mia she was at peace, shades on her face, basking in the glow of the afternoon sun like a beautiful blonde lizard. Although she was relaxed, her ears were attuned to the children playing in the sand.
Mia nudged her friend with her elbow. “You remember doing that as a kid? Finding a stick and calling it a sword?”
The Speedster shrugged. “Not really, but one time I found a possum stuck behind a dumpster and used a stick to push it out.”
“What kind of possum?”
There was a beat.
“Angry.”
Mia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh Bartholomew, never change for anyone.”
On the corner of the blanket was a speaker Bart had brought, as he insisted on “DJ-ing” the little beach outing. To Mia’s surprise (and relief), the guy raised in Alabama didn’t listen to country. Instead, Bart showed a fondness for 80s synth-pop, an era of electronica where the instruments were more finicky and the bass drops were non-existent.
As the janky yet upbeat synths of 1987 resonated through the air, Mia watched Lian playing archer amongst the beachscape. The whole bow and arrow set had been meticulously constructed by Roy — the arrows had been tipped with soft yarn and the bow itself was perfectly tailored to a seven-year-old’s lack of upper-body strength.
The West twins dashed across the sand, dodging Lian’s arrows with ease. The ones that did hit barely hurt, although Jai insisted on dramatically falling whenever an arrow so much as grazed him.
At a certain point, Mia sat up and reached for her backpack. After rummaging inside, she procured a sandwich wrapped in several layers of plastic — peanut butter and pickles on shitty grocery store white bread, a guilty pleasure of hers.
“Hey, splitsies?” she asked, nudging the Speedster.
When Bart laid eyes on the sandwich, his lips curled into a smile. “You’re my favorite archer,” he said coolly. “Ya know that?”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “I dunno — I mean, don’t you still hangout with Cissie?” she questioned, then smirked. “And I don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing Connor at the last picnic. I know what I saw.”
Bart let out a laugh. “Hey, don’t hate — you guys said you brought cake and I just noticed.”
Speedy and Kid Flash — two names of two heroes holding two different legacies, two names often said in lists or groups but never together.
Until now.
Let the history books say that in the living area of Titans Compound in New York City, at precisely 10:39 on a Saturday night, Bartholomew Henry Allen II and Mia Hannah Dearden held each other at arm’s length, Mia’s phone playing a simple tune as they maneuvered each other across the floor, almost as if a Mirror Ball Trophy was somewhere in their future.
Somehow the night had led them here — the two needed a break from their Mario Party speedrun and evidently decided to dance their troubles away. It was certainly more entertaining than monitor duty.
To both their surprise, neither Bart nor Mia had stepped on eachother’s feet… yet. Mia proved to be as graceful on the dance floor as she was on the battlefield, and Bart really did have the fastest feet in the Titans.
“Where’d you learn to dance?” asked Bart as he twirled her with ease.
“On the streets.”
The Speedster raised an eyebrow. “Like… like Step Up?”
Mia nodded, moving her feet swiftly to the rhythm of the music. “Yeah, I needed a hobby. And you?”
“Jay and Joan were gonna renew their wedding vows, so they sent me to dance lessons so I wouldn’t embarrass them at the reception.”
With a roll of her eyes, Mia let out a laugh. “Ah, like you do.”
She figured that Bart’s loved ones would go through a lot of trouble to make sure he’d behave for any formal event — apparently teaching him how to swing dance was the only option.
At least Bart’s words helped confirm a rumor Mia had once heard. Word in the hero community claimed that Kid Flash accidentally instigated a dance battle to the Backstreet Boys at a wedding, but according to the Speedster himself he clearly accidentally instigated a dance battle to the Backstreet Boys at a vow renewal ceremony. The difference was like night and day.
Frankly, the one thing Mia questioned the most was how a Backstreet Boys song managed to play at an event for the Garricks, of all things.
The song continued as the pair moved across the floor. As they danced, Bart's toe accidentally tapped against Mia’s. He grumbled, then said —
“It’s hard to do this backwards.”
“You should try it in heels.”
To Mia’s surprise, Bart managed to lift her more than once. It was nothing extravagant, but when she felt Bart’s hands on her hips she went with her instincts and jumped upwards, helping him guide her through the air.
Admittedly, she enjoyed the simple tango. She barely got a chance to dance like this at Dinah and Ollie’s wedding, mainly because shit went down after minute one and a literal ballroom blitz ensued. At least the guests got to dance their troubles away before cutting the cake. Secretly, Mia was very thankful to whoever slipped Mr. Brightside into the playlist.
After finishing something that was called the ‘fish lift,’ a random — and fittingly, an impulsive — idea came to Bart’s head. With his hands on hers he gave Mia a mischievous eye.
“Hey, have you ever wanted to do that one move from Dirty Dancing? Y’know, the one at the end?”
At first Mia stared at Bart like he had grown a second head, but after giving it a moment’s thought she let out a hum.
“Well… now I have.”
…
…
…
The computer room at Titan’s Compound was often occupied by the one Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, because someone had to take on monitor duty and that someone usually turned out to be him.
But reality ensued as the young detective was fast asleep on a computer chair, resting reclined with his cape draped over him like a blanket.
Tim justified the nap in his mind by reminding himself that caffeine took about thirty minutes to truly kick in, and that a brief moment of sleep would help it do so. Hopefully his recently-chugged triple espresso shot would not fail him.
Precisely thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds into his thirty minute nap, Tim was startled awake by the sudden sound of something crashing a few rooms over.
Blinking, he looked around the area and rubbed sleep out of his groggy eyes. Due to still being thoroughly tired, Tim couldn’t muster enough brainpower to think harder about what just happened. With a yawn, he simply closed his eyes and continued his nap.
