Author's note: This story follows after my stories Reach the Horizon and Here's a Good One. You don't have to have read those first but it might help. In the latter, Kid Flash found out that his biological father was one of Flash's greatest enemies the speedster from the future, Professor Zoom. With Flash's wife, his Aunt Iris dead, at Zoom's hands and Wally's completely neglecting parents indifferent, Wally was adopted by Flash and is now Wally Allen.

This story takes place several months after that.

Jinx pedaled along in the golden glow of a late spring Jump City sunset. She glanced beside her and laughed. Her boyfriend of nearly a year was struggling not to keep up with her but to keep his pants up jogging alongside her.

"You should've worn your red and yellow," she smirked then stopped on a street corner to go easy on him. He jogged up to where she was and pulled up his drooping pants. As he spoke, she tucked some stray orange locks under his hat.

"Yeah, I-I just thought I might see my old pals while showing you their houses."

"You know you can't tell them about yourself, Mr. Super Hero."

"I know, I just . . . " he shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I hoped to see them and that even in my big clothes they'd guess and that they'd realize why I drifted away from them."

"And that's why you didn't tell me to wear a hat or something too."

"Well, you're wearing a skirt and all that metal chain and your top's not indigo or black. You could be just another punk girl."

"Or maybe Jinx, too." she nodded and smiled like a parent at the doings of a mischievous child. "What brought this on?"

Wally sighed as a car went by with base pounding so hard the bike felt like it vibrated along with it under Jinx's hands.

"Fucking losers!" a kid in a yankees hat shouted out the window at Jinx and Wally as it passsed. Jinx nearly shouted back. Wally just rolled his eyes and started speaking again to divert her. Her temper was better now, but still . .

"I saw my old pal Aaron's name in the paper. It was about Aaron pitching a really good game in Babe Ruth League."

"Babe Ruth League?"

"What you play in after little league. I was better than Aaron every year that we played. I was really really good, Jinx."

She chuckled. "You were already cheating with no tailbone, or appendix and your 29th century butt and all."

Wally sighed. "Yeah, but I didn't know. I was one of the guys. I remember us being teammates. We were teammates every year. I loved it. So I saw the thing in the paper and started feeling all, I don't know . . nostalgic for being Wally."


"I-I still feel guilty about how I let down my pals when I became KF. I ditched on them and didn't follow through on things so many times . . . and they'd been great pals to me. I still wish I could explain."

"I see. So maybe I'm not so crazy for still feeling allegiance to See-More and Gizmo and Wykkyd?"

He looked her right in her pink eyes and shook his head with a smile. "Not for that reason." he said and laughed but she got the last laugh, pulling his blood red knit hat down over his face before she started pedaling again. Wally caught up and jogged alongside her, keeping his pants up more of a challenge for the fastest teen alive than keeping up with her bicycle.

The street bent a little to one side and the golden light now fell so gently on her pale gray skin, making her seem even more beautiful, smiling perched on that bicycle seat in the warm air. He sighed. He wanted to make love to her right now in that patch of cornflower off to the side of the street where she was stopped.

But when didn't he?

Wally Allen, better known to the world as Kid Flash, had been dating Virginia Murphy, better known to the world as Jinx, for almost a year now. He still could not get enough of her. Not just making love to her, not just the supreme joy of being with her. He loved talking to her. He loved joking with her. He loved their occasional game, be it chess or the various gymnastic challenges she would put to him because she was phenomenally gifted and could beat him at that. He loved talking about books and movieswith her. He loved just touching her, just holding her hand or guiding her by the elbow. He loved just being in the same room as her. There was an electricity produced when the two of them were together. It was like they lived at the same frequency. Male, female, orange haired, pink haired, speedster, sorceress, good, once a villain, different but compliments, on the same wavelength.

He thought they were made for each other. They had to be. He couldn't feel more than this. What more was there? He couldn't love her or want her more than this. It was all he could do to control himself. And still she occasionally made remarksrevolving around the word "insatiable". He occasionally wondered if he was a freak, the way he couldn't get enough of her. He knew that in some ways his desire was, at least how it was expressed.

Super speed tongue. Vibrating . . it. Allright. I'm a freak. So what? I please her. And what was normal anyway? How would other guys behave?

He didn't know. He'd never had "the talk" with his father. He'd really never had any substantive talk with his father, the man who instinctively knew Wally wasn't his. He didn't know what other boys his age did. He wasn't anything like them. He was almost 16 but a member of the Teen Titans. He'd had his own life on the line dozens of times and made the difference in saving other lives many more times than that. He was mature beyond his years. He wasn't a braggart about it but deep down he knew it was true. And the real reason he occasionally worried about being a freak was because he wanted so much to please her.

He felt more confident, more secure in every way with the sorceress's love. But it was a quiet confidence, a deep certainty about himself that her love gave him. He didn't brag more during the team's fights. If anything, he bragged less. He'd almost stopped showing off in the middle of missions. He had his super speed euphoria, the rush ofendorphins that using his super speed created in his body, more under control than before.

Yet, even amid his quiet new certainty he wanted desperately to please her. He had heard boys talking about sex growing up and it's always been sort of one sided talk. I did this. I had her do this to me. I. Me. I. Hahaha!

But it wasn't like that. It wasn't like that at all. He wondered if those boys had known anything at all.

He and Jinx pleased each other and pleasing her gave him a rush. A smile on her beautiful face would put a grin on his. So he worried just a little bit at any furrow of her brow. At first, they would make love as energetically as two super powered teens could and would fall into blissful sleep amidst scattered covers in his quarters whenever sleep finally overtook them. Wally always wanted to hold her to him, to spoon with her. It wasn't a conscious plan. Even he didn't know that he would. But he loved holding her, feeling her skin against his and the steady rhythm of her breathing.

At first, she'd almost resisted. Not consciously, just like he hadn't planned to always hold her to him. But in her sleep she would push away with one arm and wake him. Wally would open his eyes to his beloved pushing against his washboard abs to be apart from him. He wondered if he was stifling her. Does she find this all too suffocating? But if she woke, she would invariably move closer to him with a soft sigh and encourage his embrace. He eventually decided that maybe she'd been trying to set herself apart all her life and he'd wanted connection. Soon enough though, she got accustomed to Wally and his need for touch. She liked it quite a bit actually.

But, what didn't she like about the boy? As he caught up to her at the side of the road, she gave a firm pat to his butt. She laughed when he cast a glance her way. Then she swatted his buns again.

"Hey!" he chuckled and she laughed more. She made a point of openly showing appreciation for his body and initiating public displays of affection just as often as him. He was just the right blend of modest and aggressive for her. It's what she was, too.

She was not about to be a passive girl no matter how energetic the teen speedster's attentions were. She was on top just as much as him and loved flexing her muscle, testing just how strong he was.

At the same time, there was a part of her that Wally's attentions flattered and made stronger. Every girl steels herself against the relentless appraisal of the world by assuring herself of her own beauty. Virginia Murphy had been such a pariah, so scorned, called a witch and a freak and a loser so often that she chose to become indifferent to conventional notions of beauty. And she started to doubt the voice that assured her she was beautiful. She would've laughed and then hexed anyone who told her that she wanted the reassurance of a boy telling her she's beautiful. But the teen speedster said it, said it often. And he meant it. And he wasn't a conventional vanilla, blah, nothing boy. He didn't really care if anyone else agreed with him. He didn't say it because his pals thought it. He would get a certain look watching her. She knew the look, his chest heaving with a deep breath then his eyes widening just a bit. Oh my god. She's . . .

And she got that response from him, the gorgeous boy with the fantastic speedster body, bright and a hero but not a . . a punisher. That was important. After being around him for months, that's what she thought separated Kid Flash from some other heroes. For them, the whole deal was somebody had to be punished. It was a way to express some anger that a hero had inside, dying to come out whether or not a bad guy showed up on cue. Something had happened and somebody would get to be the hammer. Hammer. Hammer. Hammer. It was almost sadistic in a respectable way. But Wally wasn't like that. As she got to know him as well as the boy could be known, she realized that the bad guys didn't matter that much to him. He was so much more focused on the victims. Oh, he went after the bad guys. But it was as a means to an end, protecting those victims rather than just the chance to be the hammer. All heroes felt that in some way, but the proportions were different. It explained why he didn't try to arrest her that first night at the museum.

He was her first experience of anything close to love. After nearly a year, she was certain that he was the one. But she was 16 and a half and he wasn't quite 16. She smirked at the idea. How white trash would that look? Marrying before I even turned 17. She always smirked at the notion, the humor of the situation both in how perfectly white trash it would be, and she having first lived in a double wide trailer, and yet how irrelevant it was. She was a sometimes hero now, going on missions with the team and putting her gymnastics toned butt on the line the same as the others, though with a little more style, of course. She'd seen a lot more of life than any 16 year old girl was supposed to have seen. And being with the boy wasn't going to be just some mistake. He read fucking Rilke to her in bed. She sighed at just the thought. Rilke. The sex after that would've set records if stats were kept.

She patted the side of his butt and chirped, "Come on slowpoke. Try and keep up with me." Off she pedaled as fast as she could. The toned and trained sorceress set a blazing pace and Wally had to hold his pants up with one hand and run along at a pace that would've seemed at least improbable if anyone had been paying attention to them. He grabbed the back of the bicycle seat and slowed her down.

"Hey look," she laughed. "A metaphor for our relationship. You holding me back."

Wally almost lost his grip for his laughing and then she couldn't hold back her own laughter and burst into guffaws and stopped pedaling. He stepped around front of her and kissed her.

Eventually they traveled on toward the bay from the section of the city where he'd lived. They were too busy singing and laughing to notice that the quality of the neighborhoods steadily decreased.

" . . . nothing seems to fit . . . . those . . . raindrops keep fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'," Wally sang as they passed over a short rise in the cracked sidewalk with weeds sprouting through the gaps everywhere and came upon the car with the excessive bass and another like it with a total of six late teen tough guys leaning on them. As they approached, three of the six moved to stand in their way.

Jinx stopped pedaling and looked at Wally with a little smile.

"Aw, jeez guys," he sighed softly looking at them. The group of them, two black, two white and two hispanic moved closer to him and Jinx. They eyed the exotically pale skinned and pink haired girl in a skirt, tank top and chain mail belt ravenously. They cast only a few dismissive glances at the skinny white boy beside her in oversized clothes.

"That's a pretty bike you got there. We might like to ride you, uh, it," said the black kid who was their apparent leader, to Jinx, and the others all laughed. Then they all stepped forward.

"Hold on a minute," said Wally with one hand out.

"Hold on? Hold on for what, skinny ass white boy?"

"We have to decide what to do with you," he said matter of factly and turned to Jinx. The sixlooked at each other quizzically. What'd he say?

"We should just wipe 'em out," said Jinx.

"But that doesn't teach 'em anything. The best would be for them to realize they shouldn't mess with us."

Jinx glanced at the would be tough guys. "They're too stupid for that."

"Whatchu saying, you pink haired punk bitch?"

Wally spun his forearm in a circle creating a tiny cyclone that blew off all their hats.

"Even if it's partly out of fear, it's got some value," he argued. "They might worry about about the next punk girl or, what'd they call me?"

"Skinny ass white boy."

"Right. They might worry about the next skinny ass white boy and leave 'im alone. It's good to flex those consciences even just a little bit."

Jinx sighed. "Oh, allright. You're way too nice. But this becomes a hexarama if these morons take it to the next level."

"Of course. That goes without saying. The argument obviously stops at the next level up."

They turned back to the tough guys who had picked up their hats and warily moved back toward Wally and Jinx.

"That thing you did wichyouw hand. You'we him aintcha?"

"I'm just a, uh, skinny ass white boy," said Wally innocently.

"And I'm just a pink haired punk young woman . . . not the word you used."

The leader's eyes went back and forth between Wally and Jinx. "You're them. You did that wind thing and she's da pink girl. You're them."

The others weren't all as quick on the uptake. "Whatchu talkin' about Carl? It was just a breeze."

"That weren't no breeze. Skinny boy did that an' only one skinny white boy ken do shit like that, one wit a pink haired witch girlfriend."

He took one step back. A couple of them looked at him skeptically.

"CarlCarlCarl!"a hispanic tough gestured wildly. "Why would some super hero ass skinny boy be joggin' along Jump Boulevard . . . out here! Hmmmm?"

"That's just the sort of question that Robin would ask," noted Wally. "He thinks I'm kind of a flake, some of the stuff that I like to do, and that she's even more of one . . . . or . . . maybe I'm just a, uh, skinny ass white boy bluffing you."

The six of them stood staring at him and Jinx anxious for some kind of tell, some kind of sign that would give it away that they really were just a five foot ten skinny white boy and his punk girlfriend traveling in the wrong neighborhood.

"You guys don't want to mess with us. Where's the honor in messing with us? What would you tell the other guys you know? Hey we had a throw down with this hundred forty seven pound kid and his beautiful girl and messed 'em up bad. We took their bike.I mean, look at it. It's not even a ten speed. Would that really impress anyone? So, just . . . step aside and let us go. We're not hurting you."

The leader tapped the side of his fist against his lips a couple times pondering, glancing back and forth. He couldn't stop picturing how easily the skinny kid had whipped up that wind from spinning his arm. That had been him, hadn't it? Then he pulled one of the guys aside with a big laugh. Just foolin' he and the others said. Just kiddin' man, they laughed. Can't you take a joke. They parted and Jinx rode between them as Wally jogged along, hiking up his pants every few steps.

They were almost out of sight down the street when the leader shouted to them. "Hey! I gotta know! Are you them?"

Wally turned around to face him. "Nah. I'm just a skinny ass white boy."

Jinx caught the slight sound beside her, a slight sort of a zip sound going away then another coming back. She was used to it.

At the news that it was just a bluff, the six tough guys all started running toward Wally and Jinx. And they fell on their faces. Their shoelaces were tied together in triple knots.

"Where was I?" laughed Wally turning around to amble along besides his chuckling girlfriend. "Oh yeah."

He broke into song again. ". . but there's one thi-ing I know . . . the blues they sent to greet me won't de-feat me . . . " he continued singing till he was done.

Jinx gave him a kiss for his trouble and then he gave Jinx's bike a push.

"Hey, it's another metaphor!" he laughed and Jinx laughed too as they continued on back to the Tower

In the early morning hours, Jinx trembled in his arms.

Kid Flash woke. She was bathed in sweat. What the . . ?

He opened his eyes. They were in his quarters at Titans Tower, as he remembered. The air was cool, as usual. He liked to hold her and for them to give each other necessary warmth. But her light gray skin was slick with perspiration.

Another nightmare. Damn.

He briefly closed his eyes, in pain, her pain. But it was his pain, too, now. Anything that hurt her wounded him. She squirmed in his embrace and mumbled something with a pained, scratchy tone to her voice. He couldn't make out any of it except, halfway through, the word "papa". She jerked to one side and her whole body tensed for a moment. Pink hex energy started shooting out her fingertips and from under her eyelids. He instinctively grabbed her hands, to keep her from hurting herself, intertwining their fingers and pulling her to sit upright held tight against him as he sat up.

"Jinx! Jinx!" he shook her gently.

At last, she snapped out of her dream and woke with gasping breaths, disoriented for a moment, feeling frantic but immediately relaxing in the embrace of her speedster boyfriend, the feel of his familiar muscles. She slowly caught her breath pressing her cheek to his shoulder.

"It's okay, Jinx. It's okay. Everything's okay." he whispered and squeezed her tight. She felt like crying. These damn nightmares were so draining and didn't even seem to leave her with any trace of dark reverie to figure out. She squeezed him tight and over his shoulder, saw his left hand, intertwined with her right, his knuckles blackened and with skin torn down to his fingertips. But just a moment later, his hand was healing and returning to pale pink flawlessness. She turned to whisper in his ear, torn between a thanks and an apology and saw the almost supernatural closing of a deep gash at his cheekbone.

"I'm okay now," she whispered and with the release of her hands she immediately rubbed his back. His muscles felt so good under his skin. It felt so good to hold him, to squeeze that speedster body. Both exhaled and leaned back to look each other in the eye.

"You okay?" she asked.

He nodded almost sarcastically. Of course!

She looked him in the eyes for several moments. "This is what you get for being Mr. Tactile with a girl like me."

He smiled. "I'll take my chances . . . . when-when you were in the throes of your dream, I heard you say 'papa'"


"That's the only thing I caught. Do you remember any part of that nightmare?"

She shook her head with exasperation. "It-it doesn't even feel quite like a nightmare. It's almost like it's something else. I don't know."

He pulled her close again and rubbed her back. "We'll deal with it. We'll deal with it."

She looked at him with mild surprise. His tone was so certain and so calm. When did his voice get quite that deep? 147 pound Wally projected so much strength for her to rely on.

"You don't even feel a little mad at me burning and cutting you?"

He shrugged then smiled, half forcing his trademark grin. She could tell. Of course she could tell.

"Tell me the truth. How bad did it hurt?"

The pain had been really bad.

"Not so bad," he assured her. "And only for a few seconds. Then I heal and it's done and the only problem remaining is that . . . something hurts you."

He kissed her, gently squeezing her lower lip between his as softly as possible, a kiss of affection only, lust put off for another time, though maybe not long. He couldn't resist running his hand over the delicious firmness of her hip. She reciprocated and he jumped up from the bed.

"Since when does that surprise you?" she chuckled.

"I'm not surprised," he grinned and pulled her up to her feet. "I just want to propose a nice cleansing shower."

She eyed him with a skeptical smile. "Uh huh. I know how that usually goes. This time you soap first."

"Same time?" he suggested.

She grinned.

They went to his shower.

When they left his bathroom, he reached into her shoulder length mane of pink and tied her hair in a complex knot at super speed, making it resemble a pink double helix. She caught a glimpse of its reflection in the bathroom door and he burst out laughing at her expression. In return he got his butt towel whipped. It was easy for her because he had stopped in front of the bed.

"Yeow! Aw, jeez, Jinx."

"What? You had it coming. How'd you tie my hair like-"

"No. The bed."

Jinx moved to his side to look at it.


With the covers thrown off, it looked like a mob hit had been carried out on whoever had been sleeping in it. Five black edged holes were seared all the way through the special memory foam mattress on one side, one hole for each hex shooting fingertip. And there was a single larger hole on the other side of the mattress that went all the way to the floor as well as another burn mark that lined up with a still smoldering spot on the wall.

"Robin was kind of pissed when I got him to give us a new mattress two weeks ago," said Kid Flash. "He said it makes us look like irresponsible kids if we have to keep getting stuff replaced."

"Tell him we wore it out making love on it," she smirked.

"In just two weeks? . . . . Besides, " he added sheepishly. "That's what I told him happened to the first one."

She laughed and slapped his shoulder. "You told me that you just got one requisitioned with no questions asked."

"Actually . . . he asked. I had to say something and I didn't want the others to think you're dangerous so I said it was us making love and that it was my fault, that I was out of control and vibrating and wore out the ability of the memory foam to snap back."

She giggled. "He bought that?"

He nodded. "Oh yeah. Hook, line and sinker. He gets a kick out of any time I don't control my powers. When I accidentally spoke super speed reporting back to everyone after recon that time, with it sounding like a tape being rewound at high speed, or when I eat at super speed because I think no one's watching, or the trouble I have finding pants that fit, all that stuff. He loves it."

"He's jealous of you."

Wally shrugged. "He likes to see that there's some downside, too. Anyway, what do you want to say?"

"Let's just keep it for a while. It's still looks pretty sleepable," she said rubbing circles on his shoulder.

He turned and kissed her and then looked at her with a quizzical expression from an inch away.

"Who said anything about sleeping?"