Disclaimer: don't own young justice. or barney, or boy meets world.
Background Notes: set about a year after canon, assume that the world is somewhat safe and the only danger comes from your typical villains and giant robots. also: for the purposes of this fic, 'Tigress' isn't Artemis's villain name or anything like that; it's a simple nickname.
General Notes: this is fluff, and my fluff is never very deep or serious. that being said, I hope you still enjoy. (:

The Elephant Epiphany

It starts with Cameron.

Come to think of it, in the old days, it always started with Cameron.

"Heeeey, Tigress," he says. His dad stands beside him, holding a screaming woman hostage, and Cameron, though looking pained and somewhat nauseous, has her encircled with ice. Trying to get on his old man's good side – that's been Cameron's dream since he was five and crying in the dirty sandbox outside Gotham North.

Wally does a double-take. "Tigress?" he repeats, staring at Artemis. "Dude, did he just call you Tigress?"

"No," she says, just as Cameron says "Yessir."

She could aim an arrow at him. He's in his ice-mode-thing right now, it wouldn't hurt her conscience. But Batman had said no firing until the League got there to handle the hostage situation below the bridge (the one shrieking her head off a few feet away is apparently theirs to deal with), so Artemis settles with giving Cameron the finger.

"Wait," says Wally, popping up by her side. "Wait. You two know each other?"

"Oh yeah," Cameron calls out. His dad is glaring at him, but for once he pays it no mind. "We went to kindergarten together." He pauses. "She broke my nose."

Artemis snickers at that. She'd gone out ('gone out' meaning dating in the vaguest sense) with Cameron because he'd made her laugh. He still does, but he's clearly on that side and she's on this one, so laughing is out of the question and giggles will have to suffice.

Wally, though, doesn't laugh and instead glares at her and then Cameron.

"Weirdoes," he says under his breath. Then, louder: "You think your dad's gonna let go of that lady anytime soon? I think she's about ready to pass out."

Cameron glances over at the woman whose eyes are bloodshot and whose face is starting to turn purple from an excessive amount of yelling – or attempts to yell, rather. His father had covered her mouth with ice already, too annoyed at the sound no doubt.

"Don't think so," says Cameron. "Her boyfriend's supposed to be the mayor's son or something."

"They broke up last week," Artemis tells him. She knows because her mom, who thrives on gossip rags and reality TV, had declared the girl a floozy during dinner last night. "The police'll probably be here soon, though. The League too if they're not drinking tea again."

Wally, looking torn between horror and amusement, flaps his hands around and hisses, "You're giving our secrets away to the enemy!"

She stares at him. Then she points at Cameron and his father, who, having had enough, had let go of the woman was now standing stiffly beside his son.

"They're not a threat," she says to Wally, ignoring Cameron's indignant yells to the contrary. "Well – his dad, maybe, but that idiot over there is just an idiot."

Which is true enough; Cameron cries when he has to squash an ant, and his dad doesn't know how to deal with his son crying and so he tries his best to avoid those situations. Both are bad traits to have in villains, but Artemis has long suspected that unlike her own father, who takes a savage joy in fighting and stealing, the Icicles are more the result of genetic issues and an overall bad attempt at family bonding.

Wally splutters. "But – they're the bad guys, Artemis! We can't just let them go—"

"Too late," Artemis says almost cheerfully as Wally spins around to gape at the place where the Icicles had been standing just moments earlier. "Sorry, Wallman, I guess we got distracted when you started freaking out. Too bad."

"Y-you – I'm telling Batman!"

Artemis smiles, and below them, there are relieved shouts from the hostages and the whirring of several jets. "You do that, but hey." She shrugs and nods over at the woman from before, who has her back against the railing of the bridge and looks much calmer now that her mouth is starting to thaw. "Lady's fine. The people down below are fine. Everyone's fine. Not much to tell, is there?"

"But they got away—"

"Yup."

"─and he called you Tigress," Wally finishes, glaring at her again. They've been on the same team for over a year, the secrets have been wrung out and dried, and yet Wally still manages to dredge up the glares he'd given her when she'd first joined the team. "Why did he call you Tigress?"

"…Maybe because I'm awesome in bed?"

Wally makes a sound somewhere between choking and gagging, and Artemis doesn't bother to hide her clown-like grin.

The chair Wally pulls out whines as it screeches against the wooden floor of the cave's library. He sits – or more appropriately, slams himself onto the poor thing – and glares at her. The others are off doing their thing again (meaning that Superboy and M'gann are making out in some corner while the dog and the sphere watch, Robin's being a creeper, and Kaldur's doing…whatever) and today, being Wednesday, is the Day of Doom.

Artemis hates physics. She hates physics, and her mom had screeched at Green Arrow that there was no way her daughter was going to parade around in a midriff baring shirt if she was failing. And Wally, geeky Wally, loves science (except anything that has to do with taxidermy) and is now her tutor every Wednesday.

"We need to talk," he says, his jaw set. He's pale-faced and his eyes stick out more than normal – which means Artemis has a more than normal urge to stab them, because she does not like physics and Wally, usually, is gleeful at her lack of knowhow.

"Are you going to do my homework for me?" she asks, tapping the worksheets stacked atop her new-looking textbook. She avoids opening it whenever possible. "Because if you're not, then we should get started, my test is in a week and if I fail, I'm coming back to haunt you after mom buries me."

He ignores her and she has a feeling that today is going to be one of those days where there will be a heartfelt conversation and emotions will be discussed.

"I have to know," says Wally, swallowing and looking like he's heading for the gallows, "I – I just – you're not dating him, right? Please tell me you're not dating him. I think my brain's going to implode if you're dating – him."

It's one of those days, only: "Uh…who am I supposed to be dating?"

"Icicle Junior!"

Or maybe it's not one of those days, because on the sentimental days people are pink from holding back tears, not red from anger. Wally does red very well – his entire face flares up and she has to fight back a snort as his ears turn maroon.

"Oh." Artemis shrugs, smoothing her expression into nonchalance. "No, not dating him. Used to, called it off because of his daddy issues." Her brow furrows, and she adds, "Worse than mine, I think, and that's saying something."

He stares, appalled, and Artemis considers chucking all of her physics work down his throat. It'd make for a new spin on the whole 'my dog ate my homework' trope and she's all for killing clichés. But then there's her mom's threat and the fact that Artemis likes showing off her honestly epic midriff, so she refrains.

"B-but the other day you said that – that bed thing, and he called you Tigress—"

"Jeez, Wally." Artemis grins at him, quick and sly. "If I'd've known that an old nickname was all it took to make you crazy, I would've told you already. You looking like a demented clown and talking like one is awesome entertainment."

"…You're horrible. I hope you know that. I bet you like to steal kids' ice creams."

"Nope," she says breezily, pushing her work toward Wally. "Junior's ice cream, though—"

Wally makes that gagging-slash-choking sound again.

"I can't take it anymore," Wally groans. He flops facedown to the carpeted ground in front of the flat screen. Artemis nudges him with her foot, and he groans again.

"I know being a geek is hard, Wally," she says, leaning comfortably against the sofa, "but you shouldn't give up. Geeks are a necessary part of society and without them, who'd make our games or our movies or all of that other fun stuff – like physics."

He picks up his head to say pointedly, "You got a B on your test, stop complaining already."

"B minus," she corrects, almost scowling at the memory of the scrawled red letter. "B minus, with a twenty point curve."

"You just suck at physics."

"Or maybe you just suck at teaching." She looks down at his prone form and, feeling just a little bad, asks, "What're you whining about today?"

For a moment it seems as if he's going to say something incredibly profound – Wally looks up at her, biting his lip – and blurts out: "Tigress?"

The throw pillow hits him right on the nose; he swears, rubbing at his reddened nose, and Artemis looks around the room for something heavier. Things would be much easier if she had the memory-wiper Robin had nicked from that evil scientist last week, but Batman had confiscated it after Robin had hacked into the Batcave. Again.

"It's an old nickname," Artemis says for what feels like the twentieth time. The only throw-able thing in the room is a twelve-inch figure of Superman sitting on top of the TV and Conner would literally take her head off if it were in any way damaged. "God. We were dating, we had nicknames, it's normal."

Well – not entirely; Tigress had gone from Cameron's endearment to something more, in her mind. Tigers are bigger, scarier, than the Cheshire cat, after all. But she's never going to admit that to Wally, or even Zatanna, and Wally is far from stupid; he'll figure it out on his own time, so there's no need for her to blurt it all out now.

Wally says nothing for a while, and the only sound she can hear is him breathing. Just when she thinks it's about time to leave him to stew in peace, he says, almost hesitantly, "…Can I call you Tigress?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, loser. Did the word dating slip right past you?"

Pause.

"Can we be dating?"

Artemis stares at him. Wally's face is still pressed into the floor and she really, really wants to reach out and kick it to Mars. Over a year of mixed signals and fumbling hands and the idiot decided to make his move over a stupid name?

Wally, Artemis decides, is stupid because this is the single most unromantic way she's ever been asked out. Ever. And she's gotten asked out a lot, mind (though not so much in the past year because Gotham Academy is full of girls who powder their noses and boys who spend more money on their haircuts than she has on her entire wardrobe). And, as if to add insult to injury, a rerun of Barney plays in the background. Barney, the purple dinosaur of doom, who was probably Wally's favorite thing at age six.

But it's Wally, and for all of his prowess at physics and science in general, his people skills are lacking so Artemis sighs in a world-weary way and says grudgingly, "Fine. Friday night. If you're late, I'll get Cameron to freeze you and Robin will leave your icicled ass on Mars."

He turns onto his back in a heartbeat, grinning like the total idiot he is – and okay, there might be a few butterflies roaming around in her stomach, it's spring, they're supposed to be there – and then there's a frown on his face that quickly turns into a scowl.

"Who's Cameron?"

The butterflies die. Artemis shakes her head. The idiot on the ground starts to mumble about crazy ninja girlfriends who hire crazy ninja brothers-or-maybe-ex-boyfriends to kill her current ninja boyfriend.

Later, she thinks as Wally runs through a list of nicknames she should call him (Kirk seems to be at the top), I'll push Cam off a cliff. With this idiot. Later.

For now she props her feet on Wally's back and changes channels to watch Boy Meets World, happily ignoring Wally's grumbles.