Jump City — Dockyards
A Few Nights Later | Fog: Heavy, Cold | Red Arrow's Second Strike
The fog rolled in thick over the bay, coiling between the cranes and shipping containers like something alive. Floodlights cast harsh cones of white through the haze, cutting up the dark into stark lines. Beneath them, the pier throbbed with noise — diesel engines, shouting, the scrape and clatter of cargo dragged off a container ship.
Brick stood at the center of it all like a goddamn monument. Broad shoulders straining his custom charcoal-gray suit, bald head gleaming like polished stone, eyes flat and hard. Even without moving, he radiated weight. Authority. Threat.
"Move it, boys," he barked, his deep voice scraping over the dock. "Those crates don't stack themselves."
Men scurried faster, throwing nervous glances at the stone-skinned crime lord.
And then something hissed through the fog.
Thunk.
A crimson arrow embedded itself in the planks right at Brick's feet. Its head blinked red.
He looked down at it, unimpressed. "Huh."
The arrow detonated in a concussive flash, blowing two men clean off the dock and sending a crate of weapons tumbling into the bay.
Above, crouched in the skeletal frame of a crane, a lone figure straightened, his voice low and sharp as a blade:
"Party's over, Brick."
Red Arrow dropped down, boots cracking wood on impact. Hood up, jaw tight, his bow already drawn, the crimson and black of his armor catching in the floodlights.
Brick glared at him with something between annoyance and amusement. "You again," he rumbled. He gestured to the scattering men with one thick hand. "You got a real bad habit of ruinin' my nights, kid."
Roy didn't flinch. The fog curled at his boots as he adjusted his grip on the bowstring.
"Somebody's gotta clean up your trash," he said.
Brick rolled his massive shoulders, eyes narrowing as his grin spread wide and mean. "I gotta say, though… little disappointed. Green Arrow couldn't bother to come down here himself?" He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a sneer. "What's the matter, Speedy? Still tryin' to prove Daddy wrong?"
The bowstring creaked under Roy's fingers. His eyes, dark behind the mask, hardened.
"That name," he said, voice dark and steady, "is dead."
Brick chuckled, low and mocking. "Could've fooled me."
Then his arm came up and the dock erupted in gunfire.
Roy was already moving — rolling behind a stack of crates, arrows slicing through the fog one after another. A lead pipe clanged to the dock, a rifle was blown apart mid-shot, another thug went down wrapped tight in bolo-wire.
Brick roared over the chaos. "Don't just stand there, boys! Light him up!"
Bullets tore into the wood, splinters flying, but Roy ducked and twisted through the mess, letting his arrows do the talking.
"Fine," he muttered to himself, lips curled into a bitter smile as he grabbed a cluster of specialized shafts. "You wanna dance…"
But before he could unleash hell, a gust of wind cut through the fog, and a streak of gold slammed into two of Brick's men like a wrecking ball.
"Miss us?"
Kid Flash skidded to a stop next to Roy, sneakers smoking, grin cocky and irrepressible. He flicked his blonde hair back with a little too much flourish.
Roy shot him a look. "Not the time, Kid."
From above, Robin dropped silently, landing on a container with a gymnast's grace. His escrima sticks were already crackling with electricity as he flashed Roy a knowing, crooked smile.
"Nice to see you too," Robin called over the din. "We told you. You don't have to do this alone."
Roy scowled, loosing another arrow into a thug's rifle. "Not now, Boy Wonder."
Robin smirked faintly. "Always now."
A rush of water rose behind them, and Aqualad stepped up through the spray — tall, steady, trident in hand, the very picture of calm power. He spared Roy a single look — something between judgment and quiet understanding — before raising his weapon.
"Focus," Aqualad said simply, voice smooth and commanding.
Brick roared from the end of the dock, his voice shaking the boards. "You brats don't get it, do ya? I ain't scared of you!"
He slammed his fists into the pier and tore up a slab of concrete the size of a car, hurling it at them like a meteor.
"Move!" Robin barked.
Kid Flash zipped out of the way, Robin somersaulted over the impact, and Aqualad conjured a hard-water shield that shattered on impact but blunted the worst of the blow.
Roy was already drawing an explosive arrow.
It slammed into Brick's chest and blew a crater-sized dent in the dock — but when the smoke cleared, Brick just stood there, skin scorched but unbroken. He laughed — a sound like gravel grinding against steel.
"You think that's gonna stop me, Red?" he jeered. "Cute."
Roy snarled under his breath, grabbing another arrow.
Brick lunged now, ripping a shipping container from its moorings and swinging it like a bat, smashing through crates and scattering the heroes like toy soldiers.
Robin landed in a crouch next to Roy, breathing hard. "Man's got skin like bedrock," he called, batting away debris with his sticks. "Explosives aren't gonna cut it!"
Roy's eyes narrowed. His hand slipped to the last arrow in his quiver — sleek, silver, and tipped with something bulbous and strange.
"Yeah?" he muttered, nocking it. "We'll see about that."
Brick was still laughing when Roy let the arrow fly.
It struck square in his chest — and exploded into a foam so thick and fast-expanding it was practically alive. It wrapped Brick in sticky, white coils from boots to shoulders, hardening around him as he cursed and strained.
"The hell is this?!" Brick bellowed, thrashing against the foam. "You little punk—!"
Roy stepped forward, bow still raised. His voice was low and cold:
"Rock beats scissors. Foam beats rock."
Brick froze, his fury collapsing into frustration as the foam locked solid.
Kid Flash let out a whistle as he dusted himself off. "Okay," he said, smirking. "That was actually kinda awesome."
Robin landed lightly on the crate beside Roy, twirling one escrima between his fingers with casual precision. He shot Roy another of those infuriatingly knowing smiles.
"You could just come back to the Team, you know," he said, voice even but with a faint edge of something more. "We miss having you around."
Roy didn't look at him. Didn't look at any of them.
He yanked the arrow stub out of the foam, slung his bow over his shoulder, and muttered without breaking stride:
"Not tonight."
And then he was gone — melting into the fog and shadows, boots silent, red hood catching the moonlight one last time before even that faded.
Brick's muffled curses were all that was left.
Kid Flash shot Robin a sideways grin, hands on his hips. "Guy sure knows how to make an exit."
Robin just watched the dark where Roy had disappeared, that faintest of smiles tugging at his mouth.
"Yeah," he murmured. "That's Roy."
Aqualad finally spoke, planting his trident into the dock with quiet finality.
"He'll be back," he said simply.
Robin didn't answer. But the way his smile lingered said he already agreed.
—
Later That Night | Wind: Bitter, Stars Faint | Red Arrow Doesn't Run
The rooftop was quiet.
High above the bay, the wind tore at loose tarps and rattled the steel vents, but it was nothing compared to the chaos Roy had left behind at the docks. From here, the city below looked… almost peaceful. The waves glittered faintly in the moonlight, broken by the distant blinking lights of cargo ships slipping out to sea.
Roy crouched on the edge of the roof, bow resting lazily across his knees, hood drawn up, eyes dark. The fog had thinned at this altitude, letting the moonlight pool over his black-and-crimson armor, turning the leather into shades of silver and blood.
He didn't move when the first soft scuff of a boot hit the gravel behind him.
Didn't need to. He'd already heard them coming.
Robin was the first to step out of the shadows, calm and precise. His cape didn't even flutter as he walked forward, his escrima sticks holstered but ready at his sides. He stopped a few paces back, hands loose, face carefully neutral — though the faintest smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth.
"You're persistent," Roy said, not turning his head. His voice was low, sharp, already edged like he was ready for a fight.
Robin tilted his head, his voice light but sure. "You're hard to catch."
That earned a small, humorless huff from Roy.
A gust of wind ripped across the roof — and then Kid Flash skidded into view, sneakers squealing against the concrete as he leaned dramatically against the low ledge. He was breathing hard, though his grin was still intact, his golden hair wild from the sprint.
"Dude," Wally panted, slapping the wall for emphasis, "do you have to pick the highest rooftop in the entire city to brood on? You know how hard it is keeping up with you? I'm literally the fastest person alive, and even I…" He straightened, catching his breath, then flashed a cocky grin. "…found ya anyway. Speedy."
That did it.
Roy's head turned sharply, his eyes narrowing like two burning coals behind the mask. His voice cut across the rooftop like a knife.
"Don't. Call me that."
The grin slid clean off Wally's face. "…right. My bad."
Robin shot Wally a quick look that was all you really had to go there?, before stepping closer to Roy. His boots barely made a sound.
"You don't have to keep doing this alone," Robin said, his voice even and measured, but his eyes bright, insistent. "What you did at the docks tonight? That wasn't just you. You worked with us. We worked with you. It worked. You belong with the Team, Roy. You know you do."
Roy stood up, straightening slowly, his hood casting his face in shadow. He rolled his shoulders, the leather of his armor creaking faintly as the bow hung loose at his side.
"I don't need a team," he said flatly, his tone like iron.
Robin didn't blink. "Everybody needs backup."
That got a sharp laugh from Roy — low and humorless — as he finally turned to face them. The moonlight caught the hard planes of his jaw and the faint gleam of his mask, and his posture was all loose, dangerous anger.
"You think that's what you are?" Roy asked, his voice rising just slightly, his words cold and mocking. "Backup?"
Robin held his ground, his expression calm but his jaw tight.
Wally shifted uncomfortably behind him, his sneakers scuffing the gravel. Even Aqualad, who'd stood silent and still this whole time at the edge of the roof, crossed his arms, his dark gaze narrowing just slightly.
Roy stepped closer, his lip curling faintly into something bitter. "You've got no idea, do you? That little clubhouse you hang out in? It's not a team. It's not even close. It's a joke."
Robin's brow furrowed, but he stayed quiet.
"You think the League actually takes you seriously?" Roy went on, his voice gaining bite now, the anger he kept buried starting to boil over. "You think they don't sit around their big shiny table laughing at the little junior heroes who need 'supervision' and 'training'? You're not a team. You're a babysitting project. Something to keep you busy. To keep you in your place."
Wally flinched at that, his usual easy confidence gone. Robin's jaw tightened another fraction. Even Aqualad's expression darkened.
"You're not making a difference," Roy said, his voice dropping lower now, his anger simmering into something colder. "You're not proving anything. You're playing at being heroes while the real work gets done over your heads. And you know what? You're welcome to it. I don't need…" He paused, his teeth gritting. "…some adult chaperones telling me how to do my job. And I sure as hell don't need a clubhouse to feel like I belong."
The silence that followed was brutal.
Then Roy moved — brushing past Robin's shoulder as he headed for the edge of the roof. His voice was quieter now, but no less cutting.
"I don't need you," he said, each word deliberate, sharp. "Any of you."
And with that, he vaulted clean off the ledge, disappearing into the night below like a red shadow swallowed by fog.
The three left behind didn't speak for a long moment. The wind howled through the gap he'd left behind.
Finally Wally let out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"…well," he muttered, his voice small, almost sheepish, "…that went great."
Robin didn't answer. He just stared at the empty spot where Roy had stood, his face calm and unreadable, though his eyes glittered darkly.
Behind them, Aqualad finally spoke, his voice low but steady, carrying weight.
"He will see reason," he said.
Robin exhaled, the faintest ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth — though his fingers flexed restlessly against the escrima at his hips.
"Yeah," he murmured, almost to himself. "He always does."
But his eyes stayed fixed on the horizon long after Roy was gone.
—
Mount Justice — Zeta Tube Hub
Evening | Status: Frustrated. Hopeful. Ready to Prove Something.
A flash of white light filled the Zeta platform.
ZETA TUBE ACTIVE — ORIGIN: JUMP CITY — DESIGNATION: ROBIN. KID FLASH. AQUALAD.
The three boys materialized on the glowing platform — all out of uniform, but still carrying the adrenaline of the night's mission in their shoulders.
Robin was already peeling his gloves off as he stepped forward, jaw tight, hoodie drawn up like a shield. "Where are they—?"
"Living area," Kaldur replied smoothly, his baritone calm as ever, even as he adjusted the strap of his duffel.
"Good." Robin's pace quickened.
Wally flopped dramatically off the platform with a groan, hair sticking up in chaotic ginger spikes. "You know, one time it'd be nice to teleport in and not have my molecules feel like they're screaming. One time."
Robin didn't even look back. "Try having actual coordination. Helps."
Wally squawked, jogging to catch up. "Coordination? Please. I was born coordinated. I'm a literal force of nature, dude."
The halls of Mount Justice still smelled faintly of ozone and fresh paint. They cut through quickly — past the Justice League mural — and into the lounge.
Twin voices met them before they'd even cleared the doorway.
"Robin," said Hadrian Kent — Solaris — lounging casually on the couch, broad shoulders relaxed, game controller in one hand. His emerald green eyes flicked up, catching Robin's with something halfway between amusement and challenge. "Guess you survived."
"Did you talk to Tornado?" Robin snapped.
Neville — Sentinel — glanced up from his tablet, pale green eyes cool under a shock of black hair. "We did. He's arriving now."
"Yes." Wally fist-pumped, spinning in place. "Please let it be mission time. Please let it be—"
He was cut off by a pulse of white light behind them.
ZETA TUBE ACTIVE — ORIGIN: WATCHTOWER — DESIGNATION: RED TORNADO.
The air shimmered. Red Tornado stepped onto the platform, cape swirling. His mechanical eyes glowed faintly as they swept the room.
By the time his boots touched down, the rest of the team was already flooding into the room:
Roslyn Kent (Solstice) floated in on a faint shimmer of golden light, her warm smile lighting the space as much as her aura.
Donna Troy (Troia) leaned against the wall, arms folded, dark eyes assessing the group with quiet confidence.
Zatanna Zatara (Enchantress) appeared in the doorway in ripped black jeans and an oversized hoodie, her braid messy but her expression sharp and knowing.
Conner Kent (Superboy) hung back, tall and tense, his jaw tight, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets.
Kara Kent (Supergirl) drifted a few inches off the floor without even noticing, her grin irrepressible.
M'gann M'orzz (Miss Martian) hovered behind them, her hopeful energy radiating like sunlight through glass.
Jessica Cruz, leaning casually against the far wall, her ring faintly glowing green as she watched everything unfold.
They gathered in a loose semicircle, tension thrumming through the air like a live wire.
Robin didn't waste time. "Are we being assigned a mission?"
Red Tornado's eyes whirred faintly. "No. That is Batman's responsibility."
A collective groan rolled through the room.
"I told you," Conner muttered.
Tornado continued, unbothered. "You will be tested. Soon. Until then… use this time to familiarize yourselves with one another. Build trust. Socialize."
Aqualad stepped forward, voice firm but respectful. "This team is not a social club."
Tornado finally turned his gaze to him, the faintest hum in his voice as he replied. "Socialization is an essential element of team-building. Familiarity breeds efficiency. Learn it."
With that, he turned and strode away.
Robin narrowed his eyes after him. "That's it?"
M'gann tilted her head, fingers brushing her temple as her eyes glowed faintly green. "He's hiding something."
A beat later she flinched, her glow fading. "I… can't read him. He's… inorganic. No mind to reach."
"Bummer," Wally chimed in, stepping up beside her with his best crooked grin. "Guess you'll just have to stick around until we figure it out. Y'know. For science."
M'gann blinked at him, confused but smiling faintly. "I already live here."
"…even better," Wally said with a shrug, earning a faint snort from Zatanna.
Kaldur sighed. "Then… we tour the clubhouse."
Donna cut in dryly, arms still crossed. "It's a base. Not a club."
Hadrian leaned back on the couch, his smirk lazy and infuriating. "Technically, it's a glorified cave with Wi-Fi. Don't overcompensate, Princess."
Donna's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Call me Princess again and see what happens."
He held her gaze, unbothered, the corner of his mouth curling. "Not my fault you wear it so well."
Roslyn groaned. "Oh, for the love of—will you two just kiss already and get it out of your systems?"
Neville muttered without looking up from his tablet, "Not in the mission log, Roz. Save it."
Zatanna arched an eyebrow. "Wow. And I thought my family was dramatic."
Jessica raised her hand from her post by the wall. "Kitchen's got fresh coffee and enough snacks to shut everyone up. Just saying."
Robin was already scrolling through blueprints on his wrist tablet. "Let's just get it over with."
Kara grinned, floating backward in a slow spin. "Come on, this'll be fun!"
Neville finally looked up, his expression flat. "If by fun you mean recalibrating mission readiness parameters and backup power systems… then yes. Fun."
Roslyn bumped his shoulder as she passed, her golden light sparking faintly. "We'll make it fun."
Tornado's voice echoed faintly from down the hall. "You have full access to the facility. Make use of it wisely."
Robin's eyes stayed on the corner Tornado had disappeared around. His voice was low, more to himself than anyone else. "Oh, I plan to."
M'gann clapped her hands, her whole face lighting up. "Okay! First stop: Training Bay!"
Wally groaned. "Can't we start with the kitchen? I haven't eaten since three fights ago."
Conner's low voice followed, even quieter. "And I haven't punched anything since then."
Donna smirked, already stepping past Hadrian and brushing his shoulder as she passed. "Tour then punching. Keep up, boys."
"Ladies first," Hadrian murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
She shot him a look over her shoulder. "Careful, Kent. You're already losing points."
He flashed her a wicked little grin. "Guess I'll have to earn them back."
She rolled her eyes — but her lips quirked at the edges all the same.
With a mix of reluctant interest, playful bickering, and unspoken tension, the Team fell into step behind M'gann.
They didn't know what Batman was planning.
They didn't know what they'd be tested on.
But as they filed into the training bay, one thing was certain:
This was just the beginning.
And none of them planned to back down.
—
The faint golden glow of Solstice's aura lit the corridor as the Team made their way deeper into the mountain, her warm light dancing over steel and stone.
Miss Martian floated just above the polished floor, eyes darting to the shadowed corners and the embedded light strips that hummed faintly as they passed.
M'gann hugged herself as she hovered. "I… didn't realize it was this big," she murmured softly, her voice uncertain but curious.
Jessica, bringing up the rear with her arms crossed, smirked faintly. "Oh, it gets bigger. Wait until you see the hangar."
Neville—Sentinel—adjusted his black-framed glasses, his tone flat and factual. "Technically, it's not a cave at all. The entire mountain was hollowed out and reinforced decades ago to serve as a full-service operational base."
Donna—Troia—tilted her head at him, walking just behind Hadrian. "By who? I mean, how do you even hollow out a mountain?"
Neville flicked a glance at his twin, who was already wearing a smirk that could probably light a campfire.
Hadrian—Solaris—spread his arms in mock grandeur, his emerald eyes glinting under the low light. "Oh, just Dad. You know. Superman. He ripped the guts out of this place himself to build the League's first base. Bare hands, no sweat. Casual Tuesday."
Donna scoffed and muttered, "Show-off runs in the family, I see."
Hadrian shot her a sidelong grin, leaning just a little too close. "Aw, admit it, princess. You're impressed."
She arched one dark brow, cool as ice. "Try harder."
Behind them, Roslyn—Solstice—rolled her eyes and cut in smoothly, her voice calm but pointed. "And Mom. Don't forget Mom. Her wards and spells keep this whole place from collapsing like a bad soufflé. You're standing in a living magical construct."
Zatanna—Enchantress—gave a little, approving nod as her braid swung behind her. "Some of us appreciate the artistry."
Wally—Kid Flash—snorted loud enough to make everyone flinch. "Magic. Right. Please. That's just cheating with sparkles and backwards talking. Not real."
Zatanna froze mid-step, turning slowly to pin him with a dark, withering look. "Not real?"
Robin groaned theatrically. "Oh no. You woke the witch. This'll be good."
Wally blinked as six magically inclined teammates—Solaris, Sentinel, Solstice, Troia, Aqualad and Enchantress—all turned toward him in synchronized disdain.
Even Hadrian tilted his head and grinned devilishly. "You wanna say that again, Speedy Gonzales? I can summon a lightning storm right into your sneakers."
Wally stammered and held up his hands. "Whoa, hey—just kidding!"
But before he could weasel out further, M'gann floated closer, her hands clasped in front of her as her eyes sparkled. "I… love magic," she said simply.
Wally's jaw dropped slightly, then he puffed out his chest. "You do? Well. Yeah. Obviously. Magic's awesome. Big fan of magic. Always have been. Yep."
Donna groaned under her breath. "You are so transparent."
Meanwhile, Robin finally spoke, his eyes still on his wrist tablet as he strolled at the group's edge. "Mountain's defenses were reinforced by Green Lantern constructs, too. Between steel reinforcement, Kryptonian muscle, mystical wards, and Lantern energy, this place could shrug off a nuclear strike."
Jessica, walking beside him, cracked a wry grin and gestured at the faint green glow in the walls. "You're welcome, by the way."
M'gann slowed as they entered a massive observation deck, the ocean gleaming beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. She pressed her hand to the glass, her forehead creased.
"…but it's been compromised before," she said, barely above a whisper. "That's why the League left… right?"
The room went quiet.
Kaldur stepped up beside her, his calm voice soft but resolute. "Yes. The location was exposed years ago. That is why the League moved to the Hall of Justice."
M'gann turned toward him, worry knitting her brow. "Then why put us here? Why stay in a place everyone already knows?"
For the first time all evening, Robin looked up from his tablet. His dark eyes softened briefly, then a faint smirk curled his lips.
"Because," he said, walking toward her, "sometimes the best place to hide… is in plain sight."
Wally zipped up next to her, leaning casually on the railing, his trademark grin in full force. "Exactly. Nobody's gonna expect a new squad to move in here. Too obvious. Genius, really."
Neville, deadpan, adjusted his glasses. "Unless our enemies are intelligent enough to expect that obviousness. In which case, it's just arrogance."
Hadrian scoffed from where he leaned on the wall, arms folded. "Oh, relax, Neville. This place has enough countermeasures to make even Luthor cry. And besides…" His emerald eyes slid to Donna, glinting playfully. "…if anyone's stupid enough to try, we'll be here to greet them properly."
Donna crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, though there was just a flicker of amusement in her smirk. "In your dreams, farm boy."
Hadrian pushed off the wall and flashed her a grin. "Don't pretend you haven't had 'em."
She muttered something under her breath in Themysciran, and Zatanna smothered a laugh behind her hand.
Kara floated a few inches off the ground, her golden hair catching the moonlight as she smiled warmly at M'gann. "You're safe here," she said confidently. "We all are. And if anyone comes for us…" She cracked her knuckles and grinned mischievously. "…they'll regret it."
M'gann took a deep breath and let it out slowly before offering a quiet, genuine smile. "Okay. I trust you guys."
Hadrian clapped his hands together and stepped forward, breaking the moment. "Good! Now that everyone's done being paranoid, what's next, Martian?"
M'gann tilted her head thoughtfully before her eyes brightened. "Training bay. Then the kitchen. Then…" She gave a shy shrug, glancing at everyone around her. "Well. Whatever comes next."
Donna and Hadrian immediately started bickering as they moved toward the next corridor, voices rising in mock argument over who'd win in a sparring match.
Wally zipped ahead with a loud groan. "Please tell me the kitchen has actual food and not just, like, kale and tofu or whatever you super-people eat."
Kara and Conner shared a quiet, knowing glance and shook their heads in unison, smirking faintly.
Robin lingered behind for just a moment, watching M'gann float forward, her nervous tension melting into a quiet laugh at Wally's antics.
A small smile tugged at his lips, almost in spite of himself, as he muttered under his breath:
"Not a bad start."
Then he tucked his tablet under his arm and fell into step with the rest of his not-quite-yet-team as they disappeared deeper into the mountain.
—
The tour wound its way down a broad corridor toward the lower levels, the faint hum of lights and machinery filling the quiet. The group's laughter and bickering echoed behind them as they approached the Training Bay doors — but halfway there, Conner stopped cold.
His brow furrowed. He sniffed the air once… then again.
"…Smoke."
The word was clipped and quiet, but everyone stopped in their tracks.
Kara floated a few inches higher, tilting her head. "He's right. Something's burning."
Before anyone else could react, M'gann gasped softly, her hands flying to her mouth. "Oh no. Oh no, the cookies—!"
Without another word, she shot down the hall in a green-and-red blur, her hair whipping behind her as she bolted toward the kitchen.
Hadrian arched an eyebrow and muttered to no one in particular, "Well. At least it's not me setting something on fire this time."
Donna rolled her eyes as the faint smell of charred sugar grew stronger. "Yet."
The others followed at a brisk pace and spilled into the kitchen just in time to see M'gann standing in front of the oven, pulling out a tray of what used to be cookies.
They were black. Completely black. Charcoal hockey pucks smoking faintly in neat little rows.
M'gann stared at them, her cheeks flushed green and her lip trembling slightly. "I… was trying… to make everyone a treat…"
Wally zipped to her side almost instantly, crouching slightly so he could meet her eye level. "Hey, hey… no tears over baked goods, beautiful."
M'gann blinked at him in surprise as he reached out and plucked one of the smoking lumps off the tray.
The rest of the team collectively cringed as Wally tossed it in his mouth without hesitation and crunched loudly.
"Wally—" Jessica started, grimacing.
But the speedster just grinned as he swallowed and gave M'gann a thumbs-up, even as his eyes watered. "Mmm. Perfect. Just the right amount of… um… smokiness. Totally intentional, right?"
M'gann blinked at him again… and then, slowly, a faint smile tugged at her lips. "You don't have to eat them…"
Wally shrugged, his grin softening just a little. "Sure I do. Best batch of cookies I've ever had. Honest."
M'gann let out a small laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing.
Kara floated by the counter, resting her chin in her hand as she smirked. "That is not the best batch of cookies anyone's ever had, but points for trying."
Roslyn chimed in dryly as she waved the smoke away with a flash of golden light. "Someone open a vent before the alarms go off."
Hadrian leaned against the doorframe, emerald eyes glinting with amusement. "Well, you know what they say — you can't spell team bonding without a minor kitchen fire."
Donna crossed her arms, trying — and failing — to hide her own smirk. "Pretty sure nobody says that."
Hadrian just winked at her. "You will. Give it time."
Neville pinched the bridge of his nose as he muttered something under his breath about "children playing at being heroes," but even he was fighting back a faint grin.
Meanwhile, Wally broke off another burnt cookie and handed it to M'gann. "Seriously. Not bad at all. And hey — gives you an excuse to make another batch tomorrow."
Her smile brightened at that, and she carefully took the blackened cookie from his hand.
"Thanks, Wally," she said softly.
He gave her a little wink. "Anytime."
The rest of the team started to scatter again, joking and teasing as the last of the smoke curled lazily into the vents.
And as the kitchen door swung shut behind them, M'gann glanced down at the tray in her hands, then back at Wally's retreating form.
The faintest green blush rose in her cheeks… as she nibbled on the corner of one burned cookie herself.
---
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