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A botched mission. Another two days of glares from her 'teammates', of everyone making it clear they didn't trust her, let alone like her. A feeling rising yet again that she wasn’t welcome by anyone but Bart and Eddie, and they weren’t even there at the time. A Friday evening spent alone in the tower’s training room, taking it out on some glorified mannequins. The silence was only broken by the whistling of her sword through the cool air, the satisfying thunk as it collided with the dummy and sent the feedback of vibrations humming though the metal and back down her arm, her own breathing, and–
"Roooose, I'm bored!"
–A familiar voice echoing against the metal walls. Speak, or rather, think of the devil. Those words were the only warning she got before her arms were suddenly full of a buzzing speedster and she was inhaling the sharp, pleasant smoky fragrance which seemed to follow him around. It almost tickled, holding Bart when he was so full of energy he was vibrating. Right, Friday. He was there again for the weekend.
"And I'm busy." She huffed and withdrew her arms from beneath him, promptly dropping him beside her and readied her sword again, watching his feet hit the mat in her peripheral as she sent it swinging for the target's throat.
"Aw grife, you, and Kon, and Preston, and the whole entire world! C'mon! I wanna do something!"
The balance of her strike was nearly ruined by the sudden weight of Bart piggybacking on her shoulders, his nose pressed to her cheek. She was sent stumbling by the extra mass when the blade collided with the wood and it took all her strength not to curse. Releasing a slow, careful breath, she grasped blindly behind her back, fumbling to grab the back of his shirt and extract him, placing him once more beside her and pointedly ignoring his groan of protest.
"Don't you have anyone else to bother?" She demanded, glaring him down with her good eye.
"Nuh uh," came his simple retort. "I wanna hang out with you anyways."
This time she saw him coming before it happened and caught his arm before he could climb her again. She kept him to the side and out of her way with a solid grip to ready her sword once more with her free hand.
"Why're you so mad?"
"I'm not mad." She snapped, neatly decapitating the dummy with a final slash. There was no need to look for her to know that Bart was giving her that face of his. That one where he tilted his head like a curious little puppy, looking just as cute as one too. Her suspicions were confirmed when her hand was suddenly clutching at empty air and Bart was leaning forward on his tip toes, that expression right in front of her.
"You so are," he countered, then he was gone. He blinked back into view at her side bent forward at almost a 90 degree angle, nose inches away from her hip. Then again a split second later, crouching in front of her and examining her foot.
"You're hurt, too. You're standing all weird."
Why did he have to notice everything? Not even Robin had noticed that and he'd been there when it happened. There wasn't a chance to respond before, with a jarring blast of air and a faint scent similar to burnt rubber, she found herself sitting on a bed in the tower's medbay. Blowing at a strand of white hair that had fallen over her eye with the wind, she watched as Bart disappeared and then reappeared, a pile of supplies clattering onto the bedside table.
Surprisingly gentle hands brushed the rest of her hair out of her face while she grumbled "I'm fine, Bart. Lay off already."
"No you aren't! You’re upset and you’re hurt!" Big, worried, amber eyes met hers for a second before he was at the foot of the bed to examine her ankle. She hadn't even noticed that he'd already slipped off her boots on the way there.
"Yes I am! It was just a sprain and it's healed now, okay? It's been two days! It's just a little sore. I'm fine."
She meant it, too. She would be fine, and they both knew it. She healed almost as quickly as he did, and any residual soreness would be gone by the morning. Still though, she didn't move to stop him as he began carefully wrapping her ankle. It was slower than he did most things, movements firm and precise, but gentle. As if he needed to bother being so cautious with her. And it was… nice. Yeah, nice. He didn’t need to care for her, but he was. He didn’t need to be gentle, but he was. And it was soothing, how his fingers brushed softly over her skin. So… sue her. Maybe she didn’t want to stop him. That mop of auburn hair obscured his face, but she could see how his tongue poked out of the corner of his lips while he worked, completely concentrated on the task.
"Aaaand, there!" He declared proudly as he fastened the edge securely and darted back to her side. His lips brushed her cheek, just a quick peck, but it caught her off guard. "I read how to do that! A while ago- Is it good? I hope it's good! Oh yeah, hold on–" The breeze left in his wake rustled her hair, which didn't have time to settle before he returned to position an ice pack under her foot. "Okay there! Is that good?"
She could only stare at him for a minute. He really was reminiscent of a puppy, big hopeful eyes, eager for praise, excitable and stubborn, and affectionate. She was still a little frozen, stuck on that kiss, and knew she wasn't doing a good job at keeping the warmth from her cheeks. At least he was nice enough not to mention it. "Um.. yeah. Yeah it's good." She finally admitted, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.
"Great! So we can do something now, right?"
"Yeah, I su–"
There was the dizzying sensation of being carried at superspeed before she found herself finishing her words bouncing down on Bart's bed instead of the one in the medbay, looking up at his impish grin.
"–pose."
Which is how she found herself an hour later with a controller in hand, calling,
"Ha! Take that!"
"No fair! Precognition is cheating!"
"Is not! As if your speed doesn't already give you an unfair advantage!"
"Nuh uh!"
"Yuh huh"
"Ughhhh" Bart groaned dramatically, flopping himself over her lap. "So unfair"
"Uh-huh," She smirked down at him fondly. "Sore loser."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
Bart glared at her for a moment, then they both started laughing. It was easy, comfortable. Rose began absentmindedly playing with his long hair as they settled into silence. It was soft, fluffy, and oddly soothing. Peaceful, which was a rare feeling. But silence rarely lasted long with the speedster, and Bart opened his eyes, peeking up at her.
"Sooo, why were you mad?"
She stiffened, withdrawing her hand, and looking away. "Does it matter?"
"'Course it does."
"It's whatever, okay? I'm just not a Titan. Not like you, not like, like Tim, or Cassie, or any of the others."
Bart sat upright next to her, tilting his head in concern. "What? Of course you are.."
"No, I'm not. It's only a matter of time before they kick me out or some shit. I’m not good like you are." Warm, bony fingers tugged gently but insistently at her arm, trying to get her to turn and look at him. Bart’s voice rose urgently as he insisted,
"You are! Once a Titan, always a Titan. And you are good, okay? You're nothing like your dad, or like your weird brothers."
She scoffed at that, "Yeah, right. Robin doesn't trust me, little miss blondie won't stop giving me shit. Sometimes I think it would be better if I just left. They don't want me here."
"No!" Bart swung himself over her lap and grabbed her cheeks. His hands were always so warm, like a furnace against her skin. "You can't leave." He insisted desperately. "I want you here. If they get to know you like me then they'll see. And if not, I'll make em see! Once they give you a chance, and you gotta give them a chance too, kay? You wouldn’t be on the team if they didn’t want you here. You are good, the best!"
She looked at him, then sighed, softening. He just sounded so convinced, he truly believed it. It didn't seem worth arguing, they just didn't see her like he did. "Yeah, fine. I guess..." She muttered.
Bart pressed her cheeks in and leaned down, touching their foreheads together and squinting into her eye. "Good." He finally declared, then flopped back beside her and tilted his head against her shoulder. "Wanna play another match?"
"Yeah, let's." It was an out and she was grateful to take it. Though knowing Bart, it wouldn't be long until he brought it up again until there was a real resolution. He wasn’t the type to let anything go. That could wait though, as some of the tension dissipated and they settled back into their rhythm of playing, bickering, and laughing. It was around two in the morning that they finally settled in to go to sleep, cuddled together under the blankets. It was warm, comfortable. Good. She wasn't certain she belonged there. But it felt like she at least belonged with him.