.®.®.®.®.®.Chapter 3.®.®.®.®.®.
A Worse Start
Washington D.C.
August 12, 7:00 EDT
That morning took its sweet time reaching Grace Emilia Ross. After knocking her alarm clock off the nightstand, dropping the soap bottle on her foot, getting shampoo in her eyes, loosing her brush behind the sink, not being able to find what she wanted to wear, and tripping over her dog, she was sent flying down the stairs, only to be caught in someones quick arms.
"You okay?" The disguised Boy Wonder asked her, placing her back on her feet.
"I was," she grumbled, pulling her thin, black shati down. She was wearing some well-fitting dark jeans, her hair was held back in a ponytail kwa a black and pink striped hairband, which matched the pink ubunifu on her shirt. "Well, I mean I've been okay...er?"
"Better?" he corrected, cheerfully amused.
"I was having a bad enough morning as it is, okay! Why is this kid still here?" she called to her dad, who was chugging down his coffee halfway from the jikoni to the living room.
His eyes were glued to the TV while the news reporter reviewed the weather and stock ripoti from last night. "I was wondering what took wewe so long to get down here," he hurriedly replied between hot sips.
"Dad! Seriously, who is he, and why he is even here? And stop looking at me!" she scolded Robin, throwing her head back as he walked over behind her.
"I'm not a kid, and I wasn't," he sassed, slipping past her. Entering the kitchen, he glanced out a window observing the backyard.
"Sure wewe aren't, and sure wewe weren't... DAD!" she followed her father as he rushed into the jikoni and fiddled with the coffee pot. Robin raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder at the not-so-smooth Doctor. Despite doing his duty, the Boy Wonder was doing everything he could to enjoy the hilarity of the morning traffic jam.
"Honey, I'm sorry but he has to stay here," Ross hastily replied while fixing his koti, jacket that hung over his shoulder, all the while trying to prevent his briefcase, mkoba from falling out of his hand.
"He has to? Oh really, like it's a life au death situation if he doesn't?" Grace turned, watching her dad race past her towards the front door.
"Pretty much!" Robin called from behind her, peeking through the blinds.
"YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!" she shot a hand at the teen before zipping after her dad.
"Honey, I'm sorry, but I really have to go. We'll talk later, promise," he replied while attempting to unlock the door with the car keys.
"Fine," Grace grudgingly accepted, smiling at herself. She gave her dad a loose one arm hug as his lips pecked her on the juu of her dark brown hair. "Luv you," she alisema standing in the doorway her long, thin arms wrapped tightly around her tiny waist.
"You too. Remember, that's a promise!" Ross slammed the door to his car, sped down the driveway, and bolted down the street.
"I'm not the one I'm worried about remembering," she sang quietly before turning back inside. She looked at Robin who was now wearing a red sweatshirt, but everything else that he wore yesterday was the same. He blurred past her heading up the stairs. "Be sure to lock the dead-bolt too."
"Whatever 'Caleb'," Grace emphasized his name making the point that she didn't believe his cover. Reaching one arm back she flipped the nob, locking the bolt.
"What time do wewe usually leave for school?" Robin called from upstairs somewhere.
"It's not like you're going," she alisema with a snobbish chuckle while entering the living room to turn off the TV.
"Guess again," he slid down the guard rail, tossing her heavy backpack to her.
"What?" she froze, letting the bag land on the floor, and on her foot, with a loud THUMP.
School was worse than the morning. She tried desperately to loose her 13 yr old shadow. Objecting when he walked into her class, and hiding herself amongst her Marafiki were a few of her attempts. The only place she could get solitude was the Ladies Bathroom, but sure enough, he would be leaning on a locker, au a wall, au a door-frame, waiting for her when she got out.
He wasn't the only thing wrong with the day. She had a pop chemsha bongo in history- nearly failed it. She was paired with the geeky stalker of the school for a game in anatomy. That was embarrassing. So was running extra laps in gym because she was late because she was hiding in the Ladies Bathroom. And on juu of all that, she was exhausted.
She managed to get through the first period without talking to him. Lunch without looking at him, and the sekunde period without seeing him. Which was a welcome change. She must have scanned the room a hundred times looking for him. She even saw places that she didn't even know where there. Finally! She was alone...
Caleb, meanwhile, was sitting on the school front steps dialing his phone. He had charged it last night like Batman had told him to, and he already knew what speed-dials were assigned to his teammates. The only problem with it was that it wasn't working. The calls must not be getting through because no one was answering. What was worse is that no one was calling him. He hadn't heard anything from his team, au the League.
Stretching his arms before him, he placed his palms on his knees. He sighed deeply, forcing himself to relax as best he could. He couldn't completely relax. If he did then he would be off guard, which means that something wrong would happen. He couldn't let that happen. He had Grace's life and his reputation at stake. If anything happened to her she would die, Ross would spill all that he learned from the Joker, and Caleb would loose all respect that he had struggled to gain. Well, no one was sure about the Joker thing, but they were all being cautious just in case.
He liked undercover gigs, he really did, but not so much any more. He was fine when he was undercover with Bruce, naturally. The man always knew what to do when things went south and how to clean up Dick's messes. But Bats wasn't here this time. No one was.
He was fine long before he had a team, and way before he knew that him and Bruce were doing things that were actually dangerous. Since he was recruited to jiunge Young Justice being in a team was, at first, almost torturous for the spunky, get it done preteen. But he had adjusted. Now, after the months that they've been together, being alone was just as scary. He had to know what was going on. He had to know when to be worried, and when to chill. He needed to know when they were running into gunfire au when they were sleeping (or eating as the case may be for Wally). And he didn't. These kids weren't just his team members, they weren't just an experiment that was thrown together. They were his friends, his family. And he was worried about them zaidi than they were worried about themselves.
But he couldn't fret about that now. Hearing the bells from inside the school ring, he stood, and after giving the phone one last hopeful glance, put it away in his pocket.
Quickly he recognized Grace's Marafiki and made his way to them. "Where's Grace?" he asked them, worried when he didn't see her. They shrugged and told him that they hadn't seen her. Worried, he pivoted and sprinted up the many steps to the elaborate double doors.
Stepping into the main, hardwood floored, hallway, he struggled to songesha his tiny frame against the flow of teens. Studying the heads, searching for her brown ponytailed hair, he didn't see her. He wasn't going to call her, he wasn't going to panic. But he was going to find her.
A Worse Start
Washington D.C.
August 12, 7:00 EDT
That morning took its sweet time reaching Grace Emilia Ross. After knocking her alarm clock off the nightstand, dropping the soap bottle on her foot, getting shampoo in her eyes, loosing her brush behind the sink, not being able to find what she wanted to wear, and tripping over her dog, she was sent flying down the stairs, only to be caught in someones quick arms.
"You okay?" The disguised Boy Wonder asked her, placing her back on her feet.
"I was," she grumbled, pulling her thin, black shati down. She was wearing some well-fitting dark jeans, her hair was held back in a ponytail kwa a black and pink striped hairband, which matched the pink ubunifu on her shirt. "Well, I mean I've been okay...er?"
"Better?" he corrected, cheerfully amused.
"I was having a bad enough morning as it is, okay! Why is this kid still here?" she called to her dad, who was chugging down his coffee halfway from the jikoni to the living room.
His eyes were glued to the TV while the news reporter reviewed the weather and stock ripoti from last night. "I was wondering what took wewe so long to get down here," he hurriedly replied between hot sips.
"Dad! Seriously, who is he, and why he is even here? And stop looking at me!" she scolded Robin, throwing her head back as he walked over behind her.
"I'm not a kid, and I wasn't," he sassed, slipping past her. Entering the kitchen, he glanced out a window observing the backyard.
"Sure wewe aren't, and sure wewe weren't... DAD!" she followed her father as he rushed into the jikoni and fiddled with the coffee pot. Robin raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder at the not-so-smooth Doctor. Despite doing his duty, the Boy Wonder was doing everything he could to enjoy the hilarity of the morning traffic jam.
"Honey, I'm sorry but he has to stay here," Ross hastily replied while fixing his koti, jacket that hung over his shoulder, all the while trying to prevent his briefcase, mkoba from falling out of his hand.
"He has to? Oh really, like it's a life au death situation if he doesn't?" Grace turned, watching her dad race past her towards the front door.
"Pretty much!" Robin called from behind her, peeking through the blinds.
"YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!" she shot a hand at the teen before zipping after her dad.
"Honey, I'm sorry, but I really have to go. We'll talk later, promise," he replied while attempting to unlock the door with the car keys.
"Fine," Grace grudgingly accepted, smiling at herself. She gave her dad a loose one arm hug as his lips pecked her on the juu of her dark brown hair. "Luv you," she alisema standing in the doorway her long, thin arms wrapped tightly around her tiny waist.
"You too. Remember, that's a promise!" Ross slammed the door to his car, sped down the driveway, and bolted down the street.
"I'm not the one I'm worried about remembering," she sang quietly before turning back inside. She looked at Robin who was now wearing a red sweatshirt, but everything else that he wore yesterday was the same. He blurred past her heading up the stairs. "Be sure to lock the dead-bolt too."
"Whatever 'Caleb'," Grace emphasized his name making the point that she didn't believe his cover. Reaching one arm back she flipped the nob, locking the bolt.
"What time do wewe usually leave for school?" Robin called from upstairs somewhere.
"It's not like you're going," she alisema with a snobbish chuckle while entering the living room to turn off the TV.
"Guess again," he slid down the guard rail, tossing her heavy backpack to her.
"What?" she froze, letting the bag land on the floor, and on her foot, with a loud THUMP.
School was worse than the morning. She tried desperately to loose her 13 yr old shadow. Objecting when he walked into her class, and hiding herself amongst her Marafiki were a few of her attempts. The only place she could get solitude was the Ladies Bathroom, but sure enough, he would be leaning on a locker, au a wall, au a door-frame, waiting for her when she got out.
He wasn't the only thing wrong with the day. She had a pop chemsha bongo in history- nearly failed it. She was paired with the geeky stalker of the school for a game in anatomy. That was embarrassing. So was running extra laps in gym because she was late because she was hiding in the Ladies Bathroom. And on juu of all that, she was exhausted.
She managed to get through the first period without talking to him. Lunch without looking at him, and the sekunde period without seeing him. Which was a welcome change. She must have scanned the room a hundred times looking for him. She even saw places that she didn't even know where there. Finally! She was alone...
Caleb, meanwhile, was sitting on the school front steps dialing his phone. He had charged it last night like Batman had told him to, and he already knew what speed-dials were assigned to his teammates. The only problem with it was that it wasn't working. The calls must not be getting through because no one was answering. What was worse is that no one was calling him. He hadn't heard anything from his team, au the League.
Stretching his arms before him, he placed his palms on his knees. He sighed deeply, forcing himself to relax as best he could. He couldn't completely relax. If he did then he would be off guard, which means that something wrong would happen. He couldn't let that happen. He had Grace's life and his reputation at stake. If anything happened to her she would die, Ross would spill all that he learned from the Joker, and Caleb would loose all respect that he had struggled to gain. Well, no one was sure about the Joker thing, but they were all being cautious just in case.
He liked undercover gigs, he really did, but not so much any more. He was fine when he was undercover with Bruce, naturally. The man always knew what to do when things went south and how to clean up Dick's messes. But Bats wasn't here this time. No one was.
He was fine long before he had a team, and way before he knew that him and Bruce were doing things that were actually dangerous. Since he was recruited to jiunge Young Justice being in a team was, at first, almost torturous for the spunky, get it done preteen. But he had adjusted. Now, after the months that they've been together, being alone was just as scary. He had to know what was going on. He had to know when to be worried, and when to chill. He needed to know when they were running into gunfire au when they were sleeping (or eating as the case may be for Wally). And he didn't. These kids weren't just his team members, they weren't just an experiment that was thrown together. They were his friends, his family. And he was worried about them zaidi than they were worried about themselves.
But he couldn't fret about that now. Hearing the bells from inside the school ring, he stood, and after giving the phone one last hopeful glance, put it away in his pocket.
Quickly he recognized Grace's Marafiki and made his way to them. "Where's Grace?" he asked them, worried when he didn't see her. They shrugged and told him that they hadn't seen her. Worried, he pivoted and sprinted up the many steps to the elaborate double doors.
Stepping into the main, hardwood floored, hallway, he struggled to songesha his tiny frame against the flow of teens. Studying the heads, searching for her brown ponytailed hair, he didn't see her. He wasn't going to call her, he wasn't going to panic. But he was going to find her.