Identity Crisis

Moral Support

"Nothing, Nothing, Nothing!" Vicky banged her head on the table and passed the phone to Red X or, as she called him 'Dick Grayson', "There is absolutely zilch on this phone that can tell us anything we need to know!"

"Are you sure," he looked through the apps, messages and internet searches desperately, "Did you check her internet history?"

"Yes."

"Contacts?"

"Yes."

"Emails, purchases, calls, texts?"

"Yes, yes and yes," Vicky responded, "She basically spent all her time doing average normal stuff."

"What do we do now?" he asked, running his hands through his hair, "She was my only lead."

Vicky placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry, Dick," she sighed, "If I knew where she was, I'd tell you, but she hasn't called me, and her neighbors say she never came home tonight. Or at least not yet." She glanced over at the phone, "Speaking of going home, "She said, "What time is it?"

"9:56,"

"What!" she stood up and grabbed the phone, "We got to get out of here!"

Red X looked around in alarm, "Why!"

"It's almost curfew! My mom is going to kill me if she finds out that I snuck out with you!" She grabbed his arm and bolted out of the restaurant towards the bus stop, "There's no way we'll get back in time! My mom's going to check on me, and I won't be there and..." She sank to the ground in despair

"Hey, relax," Red X lifted her to her feet, "I think I can get us back in time," He clicked a button in his pocket and a motorcycle came roaring towards them.

"You have a motorcycle!" Vicky squealed as he helped her on.

"Sort of," he said as he hopped on and sped down the street.

Vicky nearly jolted off the bike when it started, but she adjusted herself and slipped her arms around him, "This wouldn't be stolen would it?" she asked.

"What do you think?" he asked sarcastically.

"Of course," Vicky rolled her eyes. She thought about getting off, but... "You know what," she groaned, "I don't even care anymore!" she grunted and rested her head on his shoulder for the rest of the trip.

                                _____________________

Beast Boy sat back on the couch and smiled at Tara who'd fallen asleep on his shoulder. She looked so peaceful, with popcorn and syrup strewn across her hair and her mouth wide open, snoring to her hearts content. The movie was over, but he hadn't moved yet; he didn't want to disturb her, but he knew that it would be super awkward when she woke up with her head on his shoulder, so he made up his mind to leave.

Very slowly and carefully, he moved her head, stood up, and gently guided it down to rest on a cushion. He turned to leave, but as he stepped away, he felt her tug on his hand. "Gar," she murmured sleepily.

"Yeah," he knelt next to the couch, "What is it Tara?"

"What time is it?"

"It's," he checked his phone, "10:09," he glanced at her exhausted face.

"Is the movie over?" she yawned.