A/N: So... I tried my hand at writing a Bluepulse fic and this is the, erm, result. I'll admit it's a bit rushed, but please let me know what you think; reviews are greatly appreciated! :3 One shot.

Jaime Reyes breathed in the night air as he brought his skateboard to a slow stop. Dark clouds were undulating and the air was heavy with anticipation. He could faintly detect the earthy smell that went alongside rain.

A sudden flash of lightning slashed across the sky, and a faint trickle of rain started up. In a few minutes, he was soaked, tendrils of his dark hair plastered to his forehead. He didn't really mind the rain, but despite his indifference, Jaime pulled his hood up. He hadn't thought to bring an umbrella, but it was still nice to have some alone time.

He tucked his skateboard under an arm, and walked through the winding streets. The lights of the city skyline sparkled, and the usual cacophonous sounds of the bustling city were drowned out by claps of thunder. In a sense, it was peaceful.

But Jaime did not really feel at peace. At some point in time his thoughts had started to run down a pretty dark path, and lately he couldn't turn away from the possibility that his destiny was still out of his control. Ironically, the person who'd warned him of his future was also the only one who seemed to give him any hope that he could still escape it. He wondered where he'd be if it wasn't for—

"Hey Blue!"

Jaime's eyes flicked up to see a pink floral umbrella now shielding him from the rain.

"What are you doing here ese?" Jaime hoped his tone came across as surprised and not irritated, because he really didn't mind seeing a friendly face.

Bart shrugged, "eh, I was in the neighborhood. Plus our snack cupboards are looking pretty low." Bart grinned, all teeth and cheek.

Jaime felt his own lips upturn, returning the smile.

"So do you usually go for walks in the rain? 'Cause I hear chics dig that." Bart tilted his head, strands of his copper tinted brown hair falling into his eyes.

Bart's question was lost on Jaime, whose gaze was suddenly fixated on those few strands of hair. Didn't it annoy Bart having his hair in his eyes? It was annoying Jaime. He contemplated fixing Bart's hair so that he wouldn't feel so annoyed, but Bart was for some reason now looking at him funny.

'The Impulse is a subject of annoyance, why do you tolerate his presence?' Scarab demanded. Jaime ignored Khaji da's disembodied voice, and cleared his throat. Bart cocked an eyebrow, and Jaime averted his gaze. The two walked on a bit, lapsing into a momentary silence. Silence didn't happen often when Bart was around, and it definitely didn't last long.

"I, uh, like your umbrella, Hermano," Jaime offered after a while, his voice cutting into the silence as rain lashed out around them.

Bart blinked in surprise. "Oh, thanks. I mean, yeah it's pretty crash." He examined the garishly pink umbrella, before adding rapid-fire, "Itwasstashedatthecave, soIfiguredI'dputittogooduse. It's probably Tim's, ya know he'sintomachostufflikethat."

It took Jaime a second to decipher what Bart had said in his mad rush of words, but a laugh worked it's way from his throat.

Bart clapped his hands together and dashed ahead, leaving Jaime with the umbrella. "C'mon, let's stock up on some Chicken Whizees."

"I don't think there are any stores open at this time," Jaime interjected with a pointed look. He glanced at his wristwatch, the numbers indicating it was well after midnight.

Bart gave a petulant look that Jaime had learned to recognize as his "seriously feeling the mode" expression.

Jaime was about to suggest they head back to headquarters, when Bart snapped his fingers, and his green eyes lit up. "Dude, I know this crash place that's open 24/7 where we could grab a bite."

His bright eyes completely filled Jaime's field of vision, and he found himself unable to say no. So Jaime trailed a few paces behind Bart, who could barely restrain himself from speeding ahead.

They arrived outside a diner, with an 'Open 24hrs' sign glowing neon in the window. Jaime studied his distorted reflection in the window. Hesitant. Unsure. Or at least that's what he could make out. The Hispanic teen lingered in the door frame for a moment, before traipsing inside.

Bart hopped into a plush seat, and Jaime slid into the one across him.

"How is it ese that you've only been in the past for a few months and you know more places in this city then I do?"

Bart drummed his hand on the table impatiently. "You don't get out enough."

The comment was obviously meant as a joke, but Jaime's expression darkened slightly. He really didn't get out much. He was too busy listening to the voices—well, voice—inside his head. The voice that he could never drown out because the scarab had latched onto his spine and would remain fused to him until death.

"Hey, wait til you try their chilli-cheese fries. Their mini pizzas are pretty good too."

Jaime nodded disinterestedly and examined his menu. Bart's insistent tapping on the table was starting to irritate him. Without lifting his gaze from the menu, Jaime placed his hand on top of Bart's to silence him. Bart glanced at Jaime and then looked back at his hand. He could feel goosebumps lifting along his arms from the prolonged contact.

"Aw, now ain't that sweet? How long 'ave you two been seeing each other?" The waitress spoke with a southern drawl and her brightly colored lips were pulled into a smile.

Jaime and Bart jerked away from each other as if an electric current had shocked them. Bart's face was burning crimson, and Jaime could feel his own mocha-toned cheeks suffusing with color. 'I am detecting fluctuations in your heart rate. Eliminate the source causing it,' Khaji da advised.

"Oh it's not like that," Jaime mumbled with a laugh that sounded forced.

"Mmm," the waitress, whose name tag read 'Shannon', smirked, as if she didn't quite buy it. "Well, what can I get for ya?"

Jaime blinked in confusion, before remembering about the menu. He surveyed the appetizer section, not quite sure what he wanted to order.

Bart, on the other hand, was rattling off practically the whole menu, "—twochocolatesodas, threemilkshakes, a chilli-cheese dog, anorderoffries..."

Shannon was writing madly on her notepad, trying to keep up with Bart. "Uh, you sure you two can handle all a that?"

"Oh, uh, no," Jaime coughed slightly. "That's just for him. Could I get a quesadilla?"

Shannon nodded slowly. "Alrighty... Now I don't want ta see any o' that food go ta waste, ya hear?" She leaned forward to collect their menus, and Jaime caught a whiff of her perfume. He could barely refrain from gagging from the sickly sweet aroma.

Once the waitress had left, Jaime returned his attention to Bart, who was smiling shyly.

"Isn't that crazy? Thinking we're together?" Bart laughed, tapping his foot against the floor. "Nah, we're just a couple of amigos chill-hanging and grabbing a light snack. No biggie."

"Qué extraña camarera," Jaime shook his head, trying to decide whether she'd been mocking them with the "together" comment. "I mean, first of all, there's nothing weird about us hanging out together this late. And her perfume was maloliente." He made a face at the thought of her sickly perfume.

"You said it," Bart agreed. "Now she is the kind of person I could picture owning this umbrella." He waved it around unceremoniously.

"That's seven years of bad luck, Hermano," Jaime warned seriously.

Bart just laughed. His entire face melted into a smile. His laugh was a full, warm sound that resonated through Jaime's chest, and completely brightened the atmosphere of the room. Bart's laugh was just a little too loud, but in a good way. Definitely in a good way.

Their waitress returned a little while later with their 'light snack', which consisted of heaping trays of, well, everything.

Jaime nibbled on his quesadilla, finding more enjoyment watching Bart scarf down his food. He could eat as fast as he could talk.

The walk in the rain Jaime had planned on spending alone had turned out better than he'd intended. His mood had been so uplifted, he doubted anything could spoil his night. That is, until the cheque came.

"Sorry Blue," Bart rummaged through his pockets for loose change, coming up empty handed.

Jaime cursed in Spanish and fished for his credit card. "If you ever find someone who'll actually put up with your appetite," he sighed, "make sure you don't let them get away from you."

Bart crossed his hands over his heart, and, looking directly at Jaime, nodded solemnly. "Believe me, I won't." Green eyes locked on brown and Jaime was startled by the intensity of Bart's gaze. He also found himself unable to look away. The seconds ticked away as they stared at the other; a single moment drawn out for eternity. And in that moment, Jaime knew everything was going to be okay.

A little while later, they exited the diner with the umbrella in tow and sauntered back towards headquarters. The rain was starting to pick up again.

"You know, if we suit up we could be back at Mount Justice in under five minutes," Bart pointed out, waggling his eyebrows.

Jaime shook his head with an air of finality about him. He wasn't going to jeopardize his secret identity simply to save a bit of time.

"Fine, fine," Bart conceded, walking a few paces in front of Jaime. He always liked to be ahead.

Jaime watched from behind as Bart turned onto the next block. He heard a crash and an alarmed cry sound.

"Bart!" Jaime's heart pounded in his throat. His blue armor formed rapidly over top his clothes, and he readied his plasma cannon. "Are you-"

"I'm fine," Bart sighed, lifting a hand to his gravel embedded cheek. "I just tripped over, well, that." He indicated to a shivering mass lying diagonally across the sidewalk.

Jaime bent down to check the man's pulse. "He's passed out. But why?"

Bart kicked an empty bottle of booze over to Jaime. "That's my guess."

"Oh." A flurry of emotions worked their way through Jaime, but he couldn't determine which was most prominent: repulsion, annoyance, disdain... or pity? He couldn't deny that a part of him reached out to the man undoubtedly drenched to the bone from the rain.

"I wonder if anyone's out looking for him?" Bart murmured aloud. "I mean, it looks like he's been out here for a while..."

Jaime grasped the pink umbrella in his hand and placed it so that it protected the drunken man's face from the rain. His plasma cannon glowed a pulsating blue, bathing Bart's face in a blue light. He could see a faint smile play on Bart's subtle lips.

One thing Bart loved about living among heroes was that whether or not there were any villains around, they were always prepared to help someone in need. That was their sole mission in life. To serve. To protect. Bart picked up the bottle off the ground.

"What are you doing ese?"

"Souvenir," he shrugged, because there were some moments that needed to be preserved. "Now come on Her-man-o," he said, completely butchering the Spanish word, "Since you're already embraced your inner beetle, let's get back to HQ. The fast way."

Blue Beetle B-22. Impulse B-23. After using the zeta-tubes, they arrived in the main cave. Jaime promptly shed his armor, not surprised to find that his hair was still damp.

"Hey Blue, let's hit the kitchen real quick. Running all the way back here took up a lot of energy."

Jaime rolled his eyes at his friend, but followed, nonetheless. He did a double-take when he saw Cassie lounging on the couch, channel surfing.

"Why are you still awake?" Jaime asked.

Cassie flinched in surprise and peered over her shoulder. "Oh, Zeus knows I'm always awake during a thunderstorm," she paused to eye Impulse and Blue Beetle suspiciously. "What about you two? What were you doing? And... Hera help me, why are you both wet?"

"Long story," Bart dismissed her question, examining the contents of the fridge.

"Hey Bart, pass me another bag of those Chicken Whizzes," Cassie demanded, waving an empty bag around.

"Sure thing," he tossed her a bag. "Oh and it's Whizees, not Whizzes. Whizzes are what you make when you go to the—"

"—Whatever." Cassie cut him off, stifling an exasperated sigh.

Jaime's brow furrowed as he peered at Bart. "I thought you said we were out of snack food."

Bart blushed imperceptibly. "Well, I did, but..."

"But...?" Jaime pressed on.

"But I needed an excuse to see you," he replied, casually tapping his hand on the countertop.

"You don't need an excuse to see me." Jaime placed his hand on top of Bart's. But he wasn't really sure why. Suddenly Bart's constant tapping didn't seem so annoying.

Bart squeezed Jaime's hand. "I know."