Disclaimer: I don't own Impulse, Superboy, or Robin. The
Robin/Superboy couple idea was nabbed shamelessly from Kerithwyn
Jade, and I'm not doing anything nasty, just expounding. Also, PAD
deserves a beating about the head and shoulders for treating Bart
as a running gag. (And I deserve a beating for that pun.) Anyway,
I'm not making any money off this; I don't claim the idea as my
own, except for Bart's reaction; I doubt anyone but me would wanna
write Bart like this anyway, but I'd really dig it if I did, so
I'm not even putting a copyright to that. Rarr. Just be aware I
wrote it, and everything. I'm shutting up now.
World's Finest, a Relatively Quick Tangent
"Gimme A Break, Guys"
Starring: Impulse and the Superboy/Robin Kinda-Gestalt
Dedicated to GlockGal! and
Written by Vesper "I Wanna Write Comics Someday" Antagonist
They think I don't know, but grife, I'm not stupid. I'm
not blind. Sure, I'm hyper - I've got lightning in my DNA and
sugar in my bloodstream, whaddya expect? And 'course I'm easily
distracted. I mean, there're so many cool things all going on at
the same time, I've got to pay attention to all of 'em at once.
They think that means I won't notice. They think that all of that
together means that even if I did notice, I wouldn't be able to
figure it out.
But I'm not four to *me*.
When I got here I looked - what, fifteen? That's what Max
said. He said to write down that I was fifteen. Sure, I said.
Fif*teen*. I knew I was two, I knew that intellectually. But I
didn't feel two, and I sure didn't feel fifteen. I don't know what
it was, but it was a whole life I spent in VR, back in the
thirtieth century. It was a whole life, and I sure wasn't just
two.
So I'm small. So I still look like a little kid compared
to Superboy. I'm still taller than Robin, sprock it. He's what,
five feet tall? I dunno. I don't care. I'm not a baby, even if
they're sure I am.
Babies wouldn't notice what they're doin'.
I notice.
I bet they don't think I see 'em sneakin' off, I bet they
think I don't know what they're doing. If they thought I'd catch
'em at it and know what was going on, they'd be a little more
discreet. Not that I care. I just wish they...
I wish they trusted me more.
I wish they treated me less like a kid, more like their
friend.
Not like they haven't got enough friends of their own,
right? Or that I haven't. Carol and Preston and Rolly, and the
whole bunch from Manchester, all of 'em. And when he comes back in
time, Brainiac 5 is my friend, too. And Arrowette's my friend too,
I guess, even though since the group started back up she hasn't
really paid any attention to me.
But...well, geez. We've been through enough stuff together
and come out on top, you'd think they'd notice I'm not just a
Marshmallow Peep. You know, sugar-coated but nothin' but fluff on
the inside? Robin's supposed to be this great detective, right?
You'd think he'd be able to pick up on some things, like, oh - the
fact that I've got a functional brain? I can't believe he thinks I
don't know his real name. I didn't pick up on it the first time,
when we were skiing, but jeez. It's not like there weren't enough
hints.
We've been through enough stuff together that you'd think
they'd trust me enough to tell me. Maybe Superboy's worried about
his image. You know, all the girls and everything. Maybe Robin's
worried about Batman finding out. I don't see why, though. I know
things are different here from the way they are back where my Mom
lives, I know people aren't as accepting, I know some of those
religious groups would be all over it like the Science Police on a
double-parked hovercar - but they can't be *that* different, can
they?
There're precedents, right? I mean, you know...there're a
whole buncha Titans that really could care less, it seems like. Go
both ways and everything.
(People think I don't notice!)
Wally's friend the Piper's pretty obvious about it, but
then, he used to be a supervillain, so I dunno, maybe they don't
count him. Weren't there even people in the JLA who didn't make it
a secret, or anything? Or am I thinking of a different team?
Celebrities, too! There're lots of celebrities who don't think it
should be a secret, lots of celebrities who're really open, and
these media people, they eat it up. It's great, they keep saying.
And it is! I just don't see why it's such a big deal.
And they're making like it's a really big deal, but it
shouldn't be.
They should trust me, they should tell me. I wish they
would. It's not like I don't know, but it's the principle of the
thing. I'm their friend.
Maybe it's like the whole secret identity thing. Gramma
Iris told me that she knew Grampa Barry was the Flash a whole year
before he finally trusted her enough to tell her, even though she
said it wasn't just trust, it was some stupid other things too,
that really didn't make any sense. I think maybe he just liked
having a secret.
Maybe that's what it is with Superboy and Robin, you know?
Maybe they just like having a secret - but it still hurts. It
still feels like they don't trust me. Do they think I'm gonna go
running to Cassie, or Empress? Do they think I'd make fun of them?
Or do they think I'm too young to know any better?
Do they think I'd think any less of them?
Don't they know that it doesn't *matter*, where I grew up?
I guess not. I never told them.
Maybe I should.
--------
"Where is he, upstairs?"
"Why are you always talking about -him- when you're with
me, Rob?"
"I'm just worried. I mean - oh, god, do that some more..."
A dark silence with a mentally audible grin, and the soft
sound of flesh on flesh.
"You're worried? How can you be worried? Come on, he's a
kid."
"No, he picks things up. He's incredibly bright. People
don't give him credit, but it's true, he's really bright, just
distracted. Like ADD but at superspeed."
"Too much talk, not enough nookie! Shut up and kiss m--"
Some more dark silence, some more quiet movement. A soft
snicker, and then a disapproving sort of sound. "Definitely not
enough kissage, there. Come back here, you--"
"No, really. Come on, Kon. Listen to me, will you? Bart's
gonna figure it out."
"Jesus, Rob. He doesn't know anything about sex. Look at
him, he's what, a three year old in the body of a sixteen year
old?"
"Four. And seventeen. And he sure didn't talk like a baby
when we first met him. I swear, he's gonna figure it out, and then
what? Huh?"
An irritated silence, and then the sudden sound of someone
sitting up and moving over.
"You know you totally ruined the mojo I had going there,
right? Completely trashed it."
"Kon, this is a real issue. You know I...you know I really
like this, right? I mean, you know I'd stop you if..."
"If what, Boy Wonder?"
"If I didn't like it. If I didn't like you."
"Like me."
"If I didn't *really* like you."
"...good enough. So this is an issue, huh?"
"This is an issue. I don't want to estrange Bart. He's our
teammate, our friend. If he figures this out, and then thinks
we're keeping *another* secret from him..."
"Hey, look, you're the one who hasn't told your real name
yet. Great we know your face, but we still don't know your name."
"...yeah. I know. If it were my-"
"-your choice, you woulda told us. But it's not just your
identity, it's Batman's. I know, I know. Blah blah blah yakkity
schmackity. Sorry. Keep going."
Silence.
"You're not still mad about that, are you? It's really not
my choice."
"God! No, I'm not mad. I was just making a point. Jesus."
"Fine, whatever. Anyway, if he thinks we're keeping things
from him like that, he's gonna think we don't trust him. And then
he's not gonna trust us. That's the way trust works, reciprocity."
"I trust you. I don't know your name but I trust you."
"You know everything *but* my name at this point."
"Hee. Yeah."
"But you see my point, don't you?"
"Yeah, I guess. *If* the little squirt could figure it
out, which you know damn well he can't."
"Watch it, Superjerk. He's taller than I am."
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Yeah, I know. But come on, he probably already knows.
He's probably moping upstairs. I bet you ten bucks he is."
"Not taking that, Target Boy. He's probably moping
upstairs because his gameboy broke, or some shit like that."
"Kon..."
"All right. Fine! Fine. So whaddya wanna do, ask him to
join in?"
"No! No, I just...I think we should tell him. Sure, sound
him out first, you know...but I think we should tell him."
"Dammit, Robin. What if he flips and goes telling
everyone?"
"What if he does?"
Silence. Definitely icy on one end.
"No, really, what if he does? You're the one who
approached *me*. You're the one who started this all. You're the
one who's all flexy-bendy, who doesn't care, who's
free-as-the-wind-blows. Why should you give a fine fuck?"
"Oh my god. You just said fuck."
"Shut up, Kon! I mean it. I'm the one with something to
lose, here. What if Batman finds out and freaks, or something?
Where would that leave me, huh?"
"You didn't just say fuck, you said flexy-bendy. AND you
said blows."
Again, silence. And then the sound of someone starting to
put their clothes on.
"No, no, don't go. I'm sorry, Rob. I'm sorry. But listen
to yourself - if you're worried about Batman finding out, why
aren't you worried about telling Bart?"
"Because I don't think Bart would care, but I *do* think
he'd care about it being a secret from him."
Then the silence was much softer, and the sound of the
clothes stopped.
"All right. All right, you win. We'll tell him. We'll tell
him *after*, okay?"
"...okay."
"C'mere, you."
-----
Bart was leaning waaaaay back in his deskchair, playing a
guitar that was hooked up to a tiny little amp, when they came in.
When they came in and abruptly stopped holding hands.
He looked at them, eyebrows up, and turned the volume down
on his guitar. Then he lifted a hand to brush his hair back from
his face, to get it out of his eyes. And then he waited.
Rob looked at Kon, and then Kon looked at Rob. They both
looked back at Bart, and they both started to say something, and
then stopped when they heard the other.
"Y'know," said Bart, sitting back again, looking back down
at his guitar. Playing the first few bars of 'Faithless, the
Wonderboy'. "Y'know, there's something I've been meaning to tell
you."
"Really?" said Superboy immediately, taking a sort of
abortive half-step forward. "Weird. There's something Robin wants
to tell you."
"Kon! Don't interrupt him, jeez," said Robin, narrowly
avoiding his facepalm being audible.
Ignoring this, squinting a little as he reached up to tune
his low E, Bart continued. "I *am* from the thirtieth century.
Originally, I mean. So like, don't be all thinking I'm all Bible
Belt, just 'cause I live there." He quickly configured his
fingers, made a chord. "No one cares much about, well, any of the
stuff that makes a good scandal in this time period. I mean, when
you're living in the same city, building - heck, the same
apartment - as a buncha aliens who think just as well as you do
but maybe look like monsters or geese or giant snakes, you really
just don't *care*. About stuff."
Rob glared pointedly at Kon, who had the grace to look
sheepish.
"So you, uh, know," said Kon.
"Yeah," said Bart, looking up again.
"And you don't care," said Robin.
"Nope," said Bart, starting to play the song again, this
time in tune.
"And you're not gonna tell anyone?"
"Well, since it's a big deal, OBVIOUSLY, to you two, no, I
won't. I'm good at keeping secrets. Even at keeping secret
identities. Just not my own, and probably only 'cause I really
think it's pointless," Bart informed them. He looked back at his
guitar, then sighed, and finally put it down. He was already
thinking about something else - actually, about the twentieth
something that'd crossed his mind since he finished his first
point - wondering when he'd be able to play the guitar to his
cousin's sax again.
"Oh. Um, good to know," said Kon, scratching the back of
his neck, looking anywhere but Bart or Robin.
"Sorry, Bart," said Robin softly. "When'd you figure it
out? Out of curiosity."
"Eh, a while ago," was Bart's careless answer. "I don't
remember. But anyway, don't sweat it, okay?"
"Um," said Kon, at a loss. "Okay. So uh, when'd you learn
to play guitar? Never thought you'd have the patience for
something like that."
"Couple years ago. You know that Legion girl you had a
jones for, last year or something? Triad? My cousin Jenni's her
teammate. She was back here for a while - same time as when Johnny
Quick died - and came to my school for a bit. We played for a
dance there." Bart was putting things away. Hinting. Great they
finally trusted him. But they were still being awkward, they
probably wanted to go off and talk about him, but didn't know how
to leave and not be rude. Pull a line. Put them back at ease.
"They gave us free food for playing, it was cool."
Still, this awkward silence, not knowing quite what to
say. Maybe Kon was finally realizing what you get when you've got
a kid with the world's objectively shortest attention span who
also has superspeed? Superfast perceptions? Realizing you get a
kid who has all the time in the world.
"I gotta go see what my, um, friend - my - what Carol's
doin'," said Bart finally, with a lopsided grin. "Promised to meet
her this afternoon. I'll seeya later, okay? Just don't be, you
know, don't be weird about any of this. I'm your friend, I don't
care, okay?"
"I'm your friend."
And with that, he was gone, papers fluttering in his wake.
