-6:24 AM-

This probably stemmed from having the seriously dysfunctional team dynamic just cock-eyed enough to put an aquatic ocean dweller above water, twin Spanish-speaking twelve-year-olds in America, and a narcissistic slacker within a four mile radius of a ball-busting, lazar shooting feminist archetype, but it took a while for the Titans East to get used to one another. Mas and Menos spoke no English. Speedy left his shoes in strategically random hallways for tripping over, Aqualad was constantly wet, and there wasn't a man alive that could tell Bumblebee what to do…consequently all her teammates were male. Luckily having younger kids in a household has a way of diffusing tempers and while Speedy still lost his temper he did so using words like 'friggin' fudge flamer!' in place of more lurid vocabulary. Aqualad was the diplomatic buffer system between everyone and Bumblebee managed to get all these quirks corralled properly toward productive ends.

After a while the lot of them began to look positively chummy.

"Pareces un zombie!" (You look like a zombie!)

"Es un monstruoi!" (It's a monster!")

Together: "Funcionamiento!" (Run!)

In a sense of the word…

Bumblebee blinked alertly over her morning coffee as two blurs zipped past her knees, screaming with expressive zeal. Speedy evaded them expertly, lifting his frying pan free of the danger zone and side-stepping the sprinting terrors as they tore through the kitchen, shrieking happily away in Spanish. The two elder Titans glanced at the clock and resumed drinking and eating respectively, having long since grown accustomed to this kind of havoc. It was about thirty minutes past 6:00, which meant Aqualad would only just now be crawling out of the water. Bumblebee sighed and grabbed an extra piece of toast, meandering down to the lower level. Sure enough, there was a groggy looking Atlantean with his head in his arms, only half out of the pool. His face was eclipsed entirely by the mess of sopping black hair plastered to his skull. Too tired to move, he hadn't fixed it.

She couched next to him, slurping her coffee thoughtfully while she inspected the top of Aqualad's head.

"You awake?" she inquired after a minute.

"Mmmm…" he replied articulately.

"Coffee?" She held out her mug.

He twitched. "Ugh…"



She left the toast, patted him damply on the head and wandered back upstairs.

Speedy was finishing a batch of French-toast when she finally made her way to the top level again, taking her time on foot rather than utilizing the wonder of flight. By ritual she didn't do much flying in the morning, letting her wings buzz lazily from times to time as she got her system going. Morning was about the only time she slowed down even a little. Coffee time was mellow time and God help the sucker who messed up her coffee time. She nursed her cup happily while Speedy went about cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them with milk, yawning and mixing with the bland disinterest of someone used to cooking for himself all the time.

Watching the hotshot, explosives-wielding teen hero go about something menially domestic as cooking was a process fascinating to behold. He took his gloves off for it ("Because egg is disgusting and ruins bow fletching," he sneered) to more easily handle the food, leaving his arms uncommonly naked from shoulder to fingertips. Hands more commonly familiar with drawing weaponry just as deftly cracked delicate egg-shells and dropped their contents into the bottom of hot pans, never once spilling albumin. Speedy was ambidextrous. Bumblebee only knew this from watching him do two things at once, one hand handling a spatula over the frying pan, the other flicking eggs against the lip of the counter. He moved so easily around the bowls and batter, it was almost…pretty.

She grinned amiably at the archer's back. "Mornin' Martha Stewart," chirped Bumblebee, seating herself at the counter.

"Bite me, you parasitic insect-woman," was the un-vehement reply.

Usually that would have been a trigger for a screaming match, but – again – mornings were a truce time. Short of stealing his pepper you couldn't get a rise out of the redhead while he was cooking, an anomaly neither she nor the powers that be could explain properly. That he knew how to feed himself was shock enough, that he might find the method therapeutic was jarring to her understanding of the other vigilante. He flipped a sizzling slice of bread and stirred it around the bottom of the pan like it might be alive and eyed it critically. He lifted his head suddenly, yelling, "Mas! Menos! Are you eating or what?!"


Bumblebee blinked as her hair buns quivered in the back draft. The stools by her side were suddenly filled by two bed-rumpled little boys, grinning gap-toothed grins of anticipation, their flaming hair still sticking wildly up from their heads, defying gravitational law impressively. The nearest boy stood up on his stool to gain some height and pumped his little fist in the air.

"Deseo las galletas!" declared Mas. (I want waffles!)

"Sí!" shouted Menos. "Y el Chocolate Cubrió Bombas del Cacao!" (Yes! And Chocolate Covered Cocoa Bombs!)

Together they thrust their arms over their heads, squealing excitedly. "El Chocolate Cubrió Bombas del Cacao!" (Chocolate Covered Cocoa Bombs!)

"God, I wish I was bilingual," professed Speedy with annoyance.

"They want their vile cereal," interjected another voice groggily.

Aqualad had extracted himself from the pool downstairs and was now gracing the landing with his striking, if somewhat damp, aesthetic magnificence. None of the Titans East – save the Atlantean himself – argued the point on their teammate's irritatingly manifest good looks anymore. Once, Bumblebee had managed to coerce her teammate into jeans and sneakers and into public and the trail of broken hearts had tracked them down every street, mall outlet and convenience store all across Steel City. There were marriage proposals. Grown women cried. Okay, so maybe that hadn't really happened, but Bumblebee still found it thrice-fold irritating that despite heavy evidence to the contrary Aqualad would only acquiesce to being 'relatively attractive' and certainly only to land-dwellers.

He yawned painfully. "The 'sugar blasted chocolate bombers' or whatever disgusting thing you call pure poison," he said, waving toward the pantry.

"Chocolate Covered Cocoa Bombs," Speedy corrected.

"Pure poison," Aqualad repeated.

"Hey man, that's un-American," Speedy said warningly, waving a whisk in Aqualad's general direction. "Red meat and preservatives are what make this country great. That and the friggin' A-bomb…and the Laserdisc."

The ocean-dweller glowered, incredulous, at his teammate. "Why is it Mas and Menos speak an entirely different language," he demanded, "and it's only you and never understand?"

Mas got up on the table to give him a sympathetic shoulder pat. "Es aceptable, bro," he said understandingly. "No lo conseguimos tampoco."

"Es el gel del pelo," agreed Menos, fluffing his already messy hair meaningfully.

"Mata a su cerebro," finished Mas, sticking his tongue out and rolling his eyes graphically.

Aqualad laughed until he couldn't sit up straight, leaving the other two members of the team to blink in bewildered suspicion that fun was being had at their expense. For reasons beyond his ability or want to articulate, the ocean-dweller seemed to have a pretty good sense of what the two boys were saying, this without knowing a single solitary word of Spanish. Bumblebee and Speedy had to get by on what Espanola they'd scrounged from English to Spanish dictionaries.

"We should have a secret language and talk about them like their not there," Speedy said petulantly, opening the pantry and tugging a box free. "Yo, clones." He shook the colorfully labeled cereal box to get their attention. "Come'n get it."

"Hooray!" yelled Mas and Menos who had in the blink of an eye ensconced for themselves a jug of milk, bowls, spoons, sugar and their favorite box of hyper-concentrated preservatives. They emptied the box into their cereal bowls with great enthusiasm and dug in ravenously. Between them they would eat enough to feed the entire team plus one and still be peckish enough to polish off Speedy's French toast without any complaint of bursting stomach walls. Bumblebee watched them inhale their breakfast with a kind of amused detachment, drinking her coffee while Aqualad took residence at her elbow, folding his arms and dropping his head on the table near her arm.

"Human vacuums," he said monotonously, blinking his great black eyes slowly.

"Super fast acting metabolisms," Bumblebee replied.

Aqualad nodded agreeable. "Right. Land dweller for 'bottomless pit'."

She punched him genially because she knew how fond he was of the voracious little Guatemalans.

"Shut up, fish-boy. It's too early to be racist."

Speedy groaned. "If you guys come on to one another any more," said he tersely, "I'll have to G-rate your dumb selves with my frying pan – for the kids, yu' know – then I'll puke." He flicked a piece of toast expertly up and down.

"Aww, Hotshot here almost sounds jealous." Bumblebee grinned. "Must be delirious."

"It's the fumes," the Atlantean replied. "You know…the hair gel."

"El Pelo Grande!" sang the twins.

Speedy chucked a triangle of toast at them, but Bumblebee nabbed it up before it could do any damage. Politely, she asked Menos to pass the jam.

"One of these days," he swore.

-7:45 AM-

"Okay…" Aqualad raised a hand and pointed very deliberately at the mess forty meters off, one arm still tucked casually around his midriff, mouth scrunched in that tight line that meant he was finding something exceedingly odd. This was quite a feat, given his track record with aquatic monstrosities, super powered madmen and the ever refreshing Titans West 'Oh-God-there's-a-giant-robot-eating-our-harbor' hospitality calls. Usually he didn't remark on it if something struck him as weird, but villains that robbed bizarre stores during the early hours of the morning kinda pissed him off. He jabbed his index finger a couple times, eyes screwed shut in disgust. "That…that is why we stay in the ocean and as far away from you people as we can. That. Right. There."

Invisible Bill was having a wardrobe malfunction, which was a serious problem given that it was the light bending particles in his clothes that allowed him to go see-through. Apparently the fabric had no issue being invisible, but Bill himself was unfortunately quite visible…though, unaware of it. Despite being in the nude in the middle of an intersection with the Titans East all around the man was having the time of his life cackling and running stealthily around the four-way-stop, shooting off of what seemed to be plasma bullets. He was a terrible shot, which was why – despite having not moved an inch – Aqualad was still standing while he delivered his statement.

Bumblebee yanked the sea-dweller behind the mailbox with her. "Get down before you get your damn fool head shot off," she yowled.

He made a face. "I'm just saying. You wonder why ocean-races don't like humanity." He shrugged. "That's why."

Speedy didn't seem alarmed. He just snorted and selected a bolt from his quiver and set it to the string. "You think that's weird? You should see the stuff that goes down in Los Angeles." He took aim. "Three words, Al: drunken Giant Girl." He loosed the shot and the resulting explosion deafened everyone in the area.

While the smoke cleared, Aqualad popped the lid off a convenient manhole. A long curl of water snaked out of the piping and raced to the Atlantean like he had planetary gravitation, curling lazily around him while he thought of the best way to approach. Mas and Menos had yet to enter the fight, still hanging back while Bumblebee assessed the situation. The unspoken rule was that they make no rash move unless she sanctioned said move, part and parcel with being twelve years old on a team of teenaged super heroes. They gave Speedy a peculiar look in tandem.

"Usted estaba en Los Ángeles?"


"I don't speak Mexican guys. Talk –" he grunted and hopped an energy bolt, "– English!"

Bumblebee cut loose with a barrage of her own energy stings, white-yellow lighting crackling off her twin weapons with deadly speed. Warning shots, of course, it wasn't really fair shooting a guy who thought he was inviible. "Knock it off you three! Mas! Menos! Work up a tornado and give this guy something to shoot at. Speedy, you got any trick arrows that won't cause untold collateral. It's just a naked guy with guns after all. Whoop!" She ducked a wayward bolt of electric death, the top of her hair buns crisping slightly. Speedy laughed, taking cover behind a stop sign – that being adequate cover given Bill's poor aim.

"Don't get canned by a nudist, Bee. That would be, like, the lamest way to die for a vigilante," he jeered, selecting another arrow from his back. "Right next to asphyxiating in your own mask."

"Did that actually happen to someone?" Aqualad shouted across the street. He'd given up on walking, by then and started using the water as a kind of liquid skateboard. Bill was finding it exceedingly hard to get a bead on the moving Teen Titan, and slipping in the water besides.

"Captain Crash or something." Speedy climbed up on a parked sedan to get a better shot.

Bee quipped, "I remember lame alliteration was used. Al, with me. Let's get this bozo out in the open. Before the twins get bored."


Aqualad skidded to a stop by the car, watching the flaming villain pin-wheel through the air overhead. "Huh."


"So who's hungry?"

-9:06 AM-

"Dispárelo! ¡Dispárelo, Señorita Bumblebee!" (Shoot him! Shoot him, Miss Bumblebee!) "Patience," gritted Bumblebee, aiming desperately, "is a virtue, Shortie."

"Ahhh!" squealed Menos, darting around his lookout post in a spastic panic. "El está detrás de usted! Tenga cuidado!" (Ahhh! He's behind you! Look out!)


"Rápido, antes él -!" (Quick, before he -!)

BLAM! Crack-koom!

Little pieces of decimated Team Blue littered the battlefield in gloriously gory animated horror, a smoking char mark the only evidence that either Flygurl or her two teammates (Thing1 and Thing1.2) had ever been there at all. Bumblebee screamed in rage while the twins began to hurl themselves around the couch in seizure like throes of agony, gibbering Spanish eulogies of defeat. Their fearless leader threw her controller across the room in a rage and said a couple things twelve-year-olds probably shouldn't hear and winced, suddenly grateful Aqualad wasn't around. (He had a thing about the boys learning profanity from his supposedly heroic teammates.) Meanwhile the marquee script 'YOU LOSE!' kept circling around the big screen in giant letters, mocking and the three crushed members of Team Blue looked glumly at one another.

"Ha!" A red-haired, hugely grinning face swung out from the other room, thrusting his finger accusingly their direction. "HA! All three of you still couldn't take me out! Archerskillz pwns you all – HEY! The hell!"

There was the sound of buttons and joystick clicking frantically.

"Someone just freaking sniped me! Dammit, who the hell is deadlyh2o?"

While Speedy struggled not to devolve into really bad language, Aqualad wandered in from the hallway, frowning. "Don't tell me you've all just been playing videogames all day?"

"Fine, we won't," groused Speedy.

"He just got his ass kicked," said Bumblebee cheekily.


She grimaced. "Yeah, he did do that."

"Damn you, deadlyh2o!"

The Atlantean just grinned.

-11:36 AM-

"Leave me alone."

"Answer the question."

"Why would you even want to know this?"

"Because I'm clinically interested. That is me. Curiosity is my game."

"You're just bugging me because you can. Knock it off."

"I'm going to start poking you now. I don't know when it will stop…"

"Ugh, my lungs have primary hydrogen filtering components that extract the oxygen from H2O so I breathe out carbon dioxide. When I'm on land, I breathe using a secondary atmospheric respiration system. Will you shut up now?"

There was a dubious pause. "So no gills?"

"No!" snarled Aqualad furiously, flinging a book – the one he was most certainly never going to get around to reading – at the archer.

Speedy caught the book and after examining the cover for contamination began to leaf through it thoughtfully. "So you could, theoretically, give someone mouth-to-mouth underwater, indefinitely?"

The Atlantean tossed his hands ceilingward. "Why? Why are you asking me that?" he wailed. "What possible reason could knowing that serve in the future…ever?"

"I could think of a couple reasons," Bumblebee said lewdly from the table behind them.

Her two male compatriots shot her a pair of equally horrified looks because – up until just then – the two of them had lived very happily believing their fearless, African Queen Bee, Amazon woman extraordinaire was entirely asexual and reproduced by binary fission or something. Noting their shock and appall, she bobbed her brows up and down suggestively and grinned all the wider. Speedy's face locked in a kind of warped and painful spilt between disgust and terror. Aqualad just stared at her with his face scrunched up like he'd never properly seen the girl before and was trying to figure out who let her in.

Aqualad was the first to recover. "Yeah, I'm going to go check Mas and Menos."

He excused himself quickly from the room. There came shortly the sound of yelling and Spanish chatter for remote control privileges from the den followed by the sound of morning cartoons with their volume control maxed out. There was a smash and some yelling, both of which Speedy and Bumblebee listened to with half-interest and – discerning no injuries had incurred – ignored it. Bumblebee was humming tunelessly to herself as she polished her stingers industriously and kicked her heels against the floor. Her teammate watched her warily for a moment before finding the courage to speak again.

"So honest to God, are you going to tell Raven and Starfire?"

"And if I did?"

"Five bucks Raven tries to drown herself first."

"So on."

-2:13 PM-

The parking lot had more or less been reduced to a smoldering ruin of molten car chassis, fused rubber and incinerated leader interiors. Aqualad was very determinedly pumping nearby fire hyrants from their water to douse the flames while Mas and Menos made several hundred back and forth trips to the courtyard fountain per second, dumping bucket after bucket frantically on the flaming but still salvageable cars. Bumblebee was still hogtying the hysterically laughing asylum escapee who'd started the inferno by driving a fire truck (ha, ha, the irony) full of gasoline into the mall parking lot during the weekend rush.

How he was still alive disappointed and mystified people equally.

The ambulances arrived in a timely manner to remove the wounded and the shell-shocked, but a piece of mercy had been spared them because no one was dead. Mas and Menos were primarily to be credited that, hurling themselves through the maze of cars and plucking all pedestrians to safety seconds before Krazy Ace drove his deathmobile into the crowds. The flames would have most likely torched the mall from there if not for the combined efforts of the fire department and a massive on shore tidal wave, compliments of one seriously exhausted Atlantean. In perfect truth, neither one of them – Bumblebee or Speedy – had done much good. Though, like Bumblebee had been pointing out for the last five extremely loud minutes, Speedy had managed to exacerbate the crisis by firing an ill-timed arrow when he'd taken a baited pot-shot at the madman.

The resulting explosion had ignited an otherwise harmless car and started the mass automobile inferno.

"Goddamn it, Speedy! I told you not to shoot."

"Sorry Miss Marvel," spat the indicated archer acidly. "I thought we were trying to stop Krazy Ace, not rubberneck while he destroys the downtown mall!"

Bumblebee hurled into his face so fast, the archer had to stutter-step back to avoid being knocked on his ass by the sheer volume of her verbal explosion. "When I give you a freakin' order," she screamed, "you follow that order! You do exactly what the hell I say when I say it and you will shut your hell up or I will shut it for you? Do you understand me you pretentious primadonna?"

And like any good teammate does for his captain, Speedy showed his deferential respect by going bright red and screaming right back, "At least I did something! You just stood there, stammering like an idiot while that maniac drove a fire truck – a freaking fire truck – into the West District Shopping Center!"

No one, of course, was suing for any kind of property damage because the truck would have exploded no matter what and if not for the Titans, there most certainly would have been loss of life. Aqualad filled in the report with witnesses and the police department, helped disperse the throng of reporters with his curt, polite, and utterly imperturbable interview face, then collected Mas and Menos from the curb where they'd gone to sit with some of the kids who'd not yet found their parents in the haze of mass panic. Upon seeing their aquatic teammate they inquired in tandem, "¿Dejarán alguna vez ellos de luchar?" ("Will they ever stop fighting?") Aqualad just sighed.

"You nearly killed twenty people by starting that fire!"

"No, you did by not acting fast enough!"

"You rush it and you screwed up, Speedy! This is not about me!"

"This is all about you! You're just trying to pass the buck because you can't handle that you were useless back there!"

"Fires are out," Aqualad interrupted coldly. His had a twin perched on his shoulder and one at his hip, holding his free hand. The expression upon his smoke-smudged, fury-darkened face was not exactly the happiest look to have ever taken residence there. "I'm taking Menos back. His hands are burned. When you two stop arguing and start acting like Titans again, do tell me and come back to the Tower."

Then he turned his back on them and walked away.

-3:25 PM-

Speedy found Mas and Menos vainly attempting to play video games despite both of Menos' hand having been scalded thoroughly by red-hot metal during the course of their rescuing earlier that day. They'd been adequately mollified with burn salve, asprin, cookies and several newly bought comic books – a sure sign that they'd milked their injuries for all they were worth. Aqualad had irritably submerged and taken to his undersea room beneath the Titan Tower, turning off his intercom so the only way they might reach him was with the communicator – meaning only for Titan business and nothing else did he wish to speak with any of them.

"So," said Speedy lamely, sitting on the back of the couch.

"¿Son usted y señorita Bumblebee hecha luchando?" inquired Mas. (Have you and miss Bumblebee stopped fighting yet?)

"Como Aqualad nos dijo decirle ..." said Menos, chewing a cookie. (Because Aqaualad told us to tell you…"

"…que usted sea tanto estúpido como irresponsible," continued Mas. (That you're both stupid and irresponsible.)

The elder redhead sighed heavily. "Look guys, I'm sorry about earlier. Bee was right. I got hot-headed and just…well…I was an idiot."

"Ninguna broma," they said together. (No kidding.)

"We talked it over on the way back and kind of chilled for a while. So Bumblebee isn't as steamed as she was before or anything. But, uh, sorry again for yelling at each other like that. We should have been paying more attention and we just didn't today. Either of us and we're sorry about that. Bee will probably be in here in a minute to give up the same spiel; she's trying to lure Aqualad out of his cave." The twins just grinned up at him in a manner that said quite plainly they hadn't been particularly mad in the first place (because they were freaking eight, after all) and wouldn't Speedy play video games with them? The archer grinned and took a controller. "Okay, so who wants to watch me lose spectacularly on purpose?"

"Mi! Mi! Mi!"

-5:57 PM-

"I could read Yeats until I die," Bumblebee was saying idly. Her foot kicked up lazily against the wall. "I dunno. I always go back to him when I run out of books."

"I'm still catching up on land-dweller classics," said Aqualad from the pool. He was floating on his back in the water, perfectly buoyant with his eyes on the ceiling. He'd forgiven her indiscretions earlier that afternoon and allowed himself to be drawn into conversation. Luckily for her, he was fairly mellow when it came to being angry. "All my books are from Atlantis. You wouldn't know any of my favorite authors."

"You could try me."

"Brillian Keeth. Argoth Soom. Merth Ellionvek."

"Shit. Never mind."

Bumblebee examined her long legs, now crossed at the ankles and propped against the wall above her. She'd known Aqualad the longest of all the Teen Titans, North, South, East and West. She'd known him before she was Titan or even considering the possibility of being one. Oddly enough, she felt that he was sometimes the most unknowable member of her team, despite all his temperaments to the contrary; anyone who met him would say he was the singular most open person they knew and what you saw was what you got, etc, etc. She'd thought the same things for a long time and she knew every other Titan who knew him thought the same.

"Okay. Enlighten me. Which one's your favorite and why?" she called toward the water.

There was a faint sound of moving liquid.

"Argoth Soom. Because I like how he says things more than anything and then the things he says aren't bad either. People say he's frivolous and I guess they're right. All his stories are wonderful, but they're not as deep or political as the others. He's like…I don't know. Like the guy who wrote Peter Pan. His stories are the Atlantean version of Peter Pan. I'm smitten with fairytales. I'm ridiculous."

"What about Dickens?"


"Oh, so deprived. You're practically illiterate."

Before the Titans East had been the Titans East, it had been Aqualad and Bumblebee, daring duo and partners in anti-crime. After dismantling Brother Blood and his academy of the mentally deranged for the second time, they'd been intent on following up his movements in Steel City. For a while, they'd been a two-man vigilante force of fury, Bumblebee in the skies, Aqualad in the sea; she taking them down on pavement, while he single-handedly shut down the harbor crime syndicates. They'd been cocky. At one point however – the point in which they'd realized the need for an actual team of Titans – Blood had managed to get his hands on Aqualad after a botched drug raid during Christmas.

He still didn't say exactly what Blood had done to him, but it had been bad enough. The Titans East was formed before they made any more moves after Blood.

"What's his best story about?"

"Mmm…there's this story about a boy who meets a sea nymph. Or rather, something like one. It's hard to describe because our mythology only barely touches. Maybe more like a siren…or a mermaid?"

"Go on."

"They meet and magical whimsical things happen. You can fill in the blanks. I said it was pretty frivolous."

"Frivolous is good."

"You read Yeats."

He'd told her his real name after they'd wormed their way out of disaster – barely breathing and bruised and battered and utterly aware of how freaking close they'd come – and she told him hers. The Aqualad she'd seen before the Titans East wasn't the same one she saw on a day to day basis. This had taught her a lesson that only someone paying very close attention would learn about the Atlantean, namely that he was a brilliant actor (she wouldn't call him a liar.) He had things to tell them all, thing he probably wouldn't ever let on for a long, long time. And she was okay with that for now.

"Okay, so Dickens. I know you're all creepy about Christmas, but you have to read Christmas Carol. It's full of ghosts and cranberry sauce."


-7:58 PM-


"Ah, what the –? Speedy, your shoes are in the living room."

-8:02 PM-


"Speedy! Pick up your shoes!"

-8:15 PM-


"Speedy! I said pick up your shoes! They're in the middle of the floor! Speedy!"

-8:26 PM-


"That's it! I've had it! Speedy you lazy son of jellyfish, I'm going to kill you!"

"Oh God! Bee! Bumblebee! He's doing the thing with the faucets! AHHH!"


-8:35 PM-

Bumblebee, not at all sympathetic to the plight of either her male teammates, set them both to work cleaning up the soaking living room and restocking the dripping magazine rack with readable material. The two boys were obliged to glare at one another for the next hour while they dragged the waterlogged couch and various tables back into place and refilled the magazine rack. Afterwards she admonished Speedy for leaving his things in the most inconvenient places possible and Aqualad for ruining a perfectly dry couch. "Things will mold if they stay wet. Fact of life. Learn it and stop hosing my house down."

-10:34 PM-

"Action movie of choice?"








"Various sodas and sugared beverages?"


"Something to throw up in after you've finished poisoning yourselves?"

"Shut up, Fish-boy and eat your popcorn."

Mas and Menos giggled while Bumblebee started their DVD and settled back for movie night with the team.

-12:45 AM-

Titans East are unconscious on the couch.

The TV is on all night.

Life is good.