maculategiraffe

Title: A Matter For the Goddess, OR, Babysitter of Themyscira!
Fandom: JLA/Teen Titans
Summary: Alternate universe. After the events of Infinite Crisis, Wonder Woman took Wonder Girl (Cassie Sandsmark) back to Themyscira to recover from the Crisis and from the death of Superboy (Conner Kent). Four years later, Cassie has built a life for herself on Themyscira. When Diana, still acting as Wonder Woman, brings back a homeless waif to Cassie's adopted home, Cassie is furious, until drastic action by Queen Hippolyta forces her into a closer understanding of her visitor's demons.
Rating: R for language and concepts.

Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five

I'd half expected a stream of visitors wanting a gawk at the male, but most of the Amazons are pretty mature, really. Anthea's just young and wired, and even she probably wouldn't have come gawking-- or her mother wouldn't have let her-- if she didn't have legitimate business at the studio. So it was a pretty normal morning, all things considered. I got some stuff done.

I'd just decided to break for lunch when Lavinia showed up with a giant casserole dish I'd sold her myself, and thunked it down on the glazing table; when she pulled off the lid, something smelled fantastic. Lavinia's a little psychic like that.

Lavinia's probably my best friend on the island, aside from Diana, who isn't my friend so much as she is my... well, whatever the flip side of a sidekick is, plus throw an "ex" in there somewhere. She's Wonder Woman, and I used to be Wonder Girl: that's what she is to me. Sex with Diana, for the few months that was on, was like sex with the person I was going to be when I grew up, before everything got so fucked and nuts, and with everything I'd given up, and everything that had replaced it, because she'd brought me here. Sex with someone who'd crossed over between Paradise Island and the world of men, even if it was in the opposite direction from me. Sex with someone else who spoke English, at least.

It wasn't very mature, maybe, but then, I was sixteen, so that was my excuse. I never asked Diana's.

Lavinia's more of an actual friend, the kind you have conversations with and discuss work and what you've been reading, and sometimes have dinner with when you need a break from your own crappy cooking. She's older than me-- I've never asked how much older, and Amazons don't exactly age the same way, but I'd guess she's in her late thirties-- and like most of the Amazons, she lives with three or four other women, who occasionally move out and are replaced by other roommates. Roommates, or lovers, or both-- I'm not really sure how all that works. I asked Lavinia once if she was a lesbian and she said no, she was a Themysciran, which maybe answered that more thoroughly than she realized. Things are different here than in the world of men. I mean, for one thing, if you want a kid, you ask the goddess for one, which might possibly make everybody on this island half-sisters on the immaculate conception side, depending on the physics of how the goddess handles parthenogenesis. I just steer clear of the whole mess.

"Hi, Cassandra. I made lunch," she said cheerfully. "Hi, Anthea. Hi. I'm Lavinia."

That last greeting was directed at Ian, who'd looked up cautiously from his book, and looked at me for help.

"This is my friend Lavinia," I told him. "Lavinia, his name is Ian."

"Hi, Ian," she said. "Hungry?"

I snorted. "Do you even have to ask? Dish him up something, quick. He's starving."

"I thought so," she said, grabbing a plate off my shelf of finished products and producing a big serving spoon from her canvas bag. "Anthea, hon, why don't you run home for lunch? Let me talk with Cassandra."

"Whatever," said Anthea, a little sulkily, and got up to rinse her hands while Lavinia heaped a plate with what looked like chicken divan over rice and handed it and a fork to Ian, who looked at me again.

"It's not poisoned or anything," I told him. "She's a good cook."

"Thank you," he said to Lavinia, who beamed at him once I'd translated. Anthea left, with a last curious glance backwards, as Ian dug into the food like a ravenous beast. Did my heart good to see him.

"Can I have some?" I asked, but Lavinia was already handing me a plate and a fork. "Thanks, Vinia."

"You're welcome," she said, serving herself. "I didn't want your new friend to starve to death. How is she holding up?"

We weren't used to using male pronouns. It was sort of sweet-- Anthea and Hippolyta had both used the male pronoun because to them his maleness was the important part, but Lavinia just used the pronoun that meant a person, on the island.

"He's okay," I said. "Stressed out. Did you hear about the binding?"

She had, but not in detail, so I filled her in while Ian scraped his plate. Lavinia took it away and gave him another helping. When I got to the part about Hippolyta and her comments about "power greater than she knew," Lavinia's brow furrowed.

"Poor boy," she said after a moment. "He's lucky to have you."

"I don't think he is," I said, surprised. "I've been fucking up right and left. I accidentally made him fall asleep this morning."

"So? He looks like he could use a nap," said Lavinia, glancing over at him.

"This isn't funny, Vin," I said irritably.

"I'm not trying to be funny," she said. "Cassandra, sweetie, I love you, but you're a prickly bitch and you scare me sometimes. I thought the male would be much more terrorized than this."

"Oh, thanks!"

"But he isn't! He keeps looking at you for reassurance. As if he knows you'll take care of him."

"He's looking at me like that because I'm the only one on this damn island who speaks English," I said. "Just because I'm slightly less scary to him than the rest of the Amazons are doesn't mean I'm doing a good job of taking care of him."

Lavinia reached out and patted my arm. "See? You're worrying about doing a good job. It's adorable."

"That I'm a decent human being?"

"No," she said, "that you're an archegos."

I didn't recognize the word. "A what?"

"You know," she said, smiling, and did a funny little bit of mime that I eventually figured out was supposed to be unhitching and then twirling a lasso. "Like Diana. Fighting evil. Saving people."

"Oh." A superhero, she must mean. That kind of cracked me up. "Not really. Not any more."

"Yes any more," she said, which is grammatical in Themysciran Greek. "Ask him if he wants more food."

Ian had cleaned his plate again. I translated Lavinia's inquiry, and he said, "No, thanks. Um, tell her thanks a lot. That was really good."

I translated.

"Oh, you're welcome, honey!" she said, beaming at him. "I'll bring you over some food tonight. I know Cassandra is a terrible cook."

He laughed at that when I translated. "Tell her thanks again."

"See," she said to me. "He knows it's safe to laugh at your cooking. I only dare laugh at your cooking because I'm so much bigger than you are. You must really like him."

When she was gone, Ian said, "Were you talking about me?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling a little sheepish. "I was saying I haven't been doing a very good job of taking care of you."

"And she disagreed?"

I nodded. "She's cute, but not too bright."

He grinned at me. "You haven't been doing so badly, Cassie."

I wasn't sure why it meant so much that he'd say that, but it did. I felt a little weak, actually. "Um-- thanks. Ian?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Would you be up for--" I hadn't thought it would be a good idea to ask before, but if he was really feeling comfortable like Lavinia had said, maybe he wouldn't mind. "Experimenting, a little? With the limitations of the spell?"

He went a shade paler. "Um--"

"I don't mean I'd tell you to do anything you couldn't do!" I said hurriedly. "God, I wouldn't do that again for a billion drachmae. Dollars. I just meant-- well, last night, I told you to drum your fingers on the table, but I said it in Greek, and you didn't."

"Sorry," he said automatically, and then grimaced like he realized it wasn't the right answer. I really didn't like that, that his first reaction to me telling him he hadn't done something-- anything-- was to apologize. That didn't exactly bode well for him learning to fight off the spell, either. It was like Hippolyta had said; this kid was an unusually susceptible subject to a binding of obedience. Probably because of that fucking Rob. I wondered what he used to do to Ian; then I decided I didn't want to know.

"No worries," I said. "But you didn't flip out either-- so I was thinking, you only have to obey orders you understand, right? So that means that if--" It was completely clear in my head, but I was stalling a little on putting it into words that would make sense to anybody else. "I mean, this morning, when I told you to go back to sleep. I obviously didn't mean 'fall asleep right there where you stand'-- but that's what you understood, anyway, because that's what you did. But maybe if you-- instead of trying to fight it, maybe if you just try to understand it differently. Like if you could understand that if I say 'go back to sleep' I mean 'go back to bed and fall asleep when you're comfortable.'"

His brow was furrowed deeply, and he was staring at the floor like he was trying to read clay-splotch hieroglyphics.

"Does that make any sense at all?" I asked, a little disconsolately, and he smiled at me. I really liked his smile.

"Yeah, yeah, it does," he said. "I'm just-- not sure how voluntary the whole understanding thing is. I mean, like you said, it should have been obvious what you meant, but it wasn't to whatever part of me obeys you. So-- what part is that, and how do I explain to it?"

He did get it. I beamed at him.

"That's what I thought we could experiment with," I said. "The--sort of-- I guess you could call it the irrational part of you. The orders-obeying part. If you're up for it, I mean. I can tell you to do stuff-- just dumb stuff, like 'look at the ceiling'--"

He looked at the ceiling. I couldn't help cracking up, even though I felt bad.

"See?" I said. "I mean, look at whatever you want. But that's what I mean. Obviously you understood I was just using an example-- so what made you actually look at the ceiling?"

"You're mean," he said, but with a tiny little curve to his mouth. "You shouldn't laugh at me. I have-- an affliction."

Of course that just made me laugh again, and he laughed with me. It was the first time I'd heard him laugh for real, and it was seriously the cutest laugh ever, a hiccuping little job that made me want to tickle him so he'd laugh harder.

In the middle of our laughing, Anthea barged back in and demanded to know what was so funny, which for some reason cracked me up more, which cracked Ian up more, and we got into a serious giggle fit. It was probably pent-up stress relief and all, but neither of us could quit, and I kept trying to say something to Anthea in Greek and couldn't think of the words, and then Ian looked at her and said "Etch a Sketch," which made me laugh so hard I actually fell off my stool.

"Americans are crazy," Anthea concluded with dignity, and sat back down at the glazing table.

Finally Ian calmed down, and then I calmed down, and got back up on my stool and apologized to Anthea and got back to work. I didn't dare catch Ian's eye until I was sure the fit of the giggles was over, but when I finally did, he looked like he'd been waiting for me to.

"I like that idea," he said. "I mean, experimenting with it."

"Oh, good," I said. "When we get home tonight, then, maybe. Not in front of Anthea. She already thinks we're insane."

"Who can blame her?" The laughing had done Ian good; there was more color in his cheeks, and he looked way more relaxed. The square meal probably hadn't hurt, either. I hoped Vinia wouldn't forget to bring over that food tonight, like she'd promised-- although ultimately I guessed it was going to be my responsibility to keep him fed. Maybe I could get the neighbors on a rota or something. "Probably best if I just stay quiet for the rest of the afternoon, yeah? When do you get off?"

"Couple hours before sunset," I said. "Maybe four more hours? You okay with your book?"

"Fine," he said, smiling and opening it up again, then looking up at me instead of down at it. "Cassie? What was your friend's name again?"

"Lavinia," I said.

He nodded. "She seemed nice."

I wanted to ask, What do you mean, nice?, and for some reason I wanted to ask it a little sharply, which was totally silly-- she was nice, and it was especially nice of her to bring him some food and fend off his imminent starvation. I didn't say anything, but some of the color went out of Ian's cheeks. Fuck. I obviously needed to learn a thing or two about the irrational part of me, especially if it was going to be spending a lot of time around the irrational part of Ian. Which it looked like it was, for the next week at least.

I wasn't sure if I should apologize or what-- for a facial expression? Could you apologize for those? What if they'd obviously made somebody turn pale?-- but after a moment, I said softly, on impulse, "Relax, Ian."

He did. More than he had when I'd said it before. The color came back to his face, and he breathed in, deeply, and he smiled at me.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I'm a little-- on edge, I guess."

"You've been through a lot." I wanted-- like hell I wanted-- to go over there, put my arm around him and kiss his cheek. It was the most specific random impulse ever. I was starting to wonder if this spell business was all one-way. I could just about restrain myself from getting up, but I absolutely couldn't restrain myself from asking, "Is there anything I can-- do for you?"

He gave me the strangest look, then shook his head and looked down at his book before he said, "Thanks."

I had to get up and wedge clay until my arms were tired before I was any good at the wheel. He didn't look up. I avoided looking at him for the rest of the afternoon.

After Anthea left, I rinsed my hands and we walked home, without saying anything. It was pretty comfortable, though. Like I said, the weather is always beautiful here-- it was balmy and sunny, with a nice cool breeze, and I couldn't help thinking of where he'd be headed at the time of day, back in America.

There was a casserole dish on the stoop, and a note in Lavinia's writing that just said, "For the boy." Cute. She'd gotten the declension right and everything.

"So," I said, when we were inside. "Ready to experiment?"

He nodded. "As I'll ever be."

"Anything yet?" I asked an hour later, checking my Swiss Army watch. Diana had to get me a new battery for it from the mainland a year ago, but other than that, it handles Crazy Amazon Goddess Dimension very well.

"No," Ian said plaintively, "except my knees hurt."

"Damn it, surely there's some kind of time limitation on 'kneel.' 'Kiss the ground' just meant 'press your lips to the ground for a second and then, you know, whatever, it's cool.' It's not like you're still stuck with your mouth to the floor until I tell you you can stop."

"But kisses inherently end," he said thoughtfully. "'Kiss' means 'touch with your lips and then pull away.'"

"Then I've been doing it wrong," I teased.

"Shut up," he said, smiling. "You know what I mean."

"I don't think it's fair you can tell me to shut up and I can't tell you to," I complained.

He peered at me. "You can tell me to."

"Yes, but then you will, and that's no fun."

He grinned. "Anyway... 'kneel' just means 'assume a position,' no reason to think I'll ever get to un-assume it. Unless you tell me I can. Please, Cassie. This floor is hard."

I sighed. "You have no spirit of scientific inquiry. Move freely. Simon says."

"I have plenty of scientific inquiry," he said, shifting into a sitting position and stretching his legs out. "Oof. Thank you. Just not at the expense of my knees. How can you stand sleeping on this floor?"

"I can sleep anywhere," I said. "Anyway, it only hurts your knees because they're so damn bony. Which reminds me, are you hungry? Let's see what Vinia brought over."

"Cassie?" said Ian, as I got out plates and forks and dished up the food, which involved rice and beans and cheese and peppers and onions and raisins and-- from the smell of it-- cumin, and was making my mouth water. "When you told me to sleep-- you told me to wake up, right?"

"Oh, yeah." I considered that. "I was really afraid you wouldn't-- obey me-- but I guess you obey me even in your sleep. That puts a whole other layer of crazy on it, doesn't it?"

"Actually," he said, "I was thinking. I didn't sleep so well last night."

"I didn't think you did," I agreed.

"I was thinking," he repeated. "Maybe tonight-- you could tell me to sleep, again. Except in bed, this time."

I stared at him.

"And then wake me up in the morning," he added. "And then-- I'd be able to sleep."

"So I'd be like your sleeping pill," I said.

He grinned again. "Something like that."

"Well." I considered. "I guess-- if you really want. Something good might as well come out of this freaky spell. You trust me to wake you up again?"

He nodded. "I do."

He said it with emphasis, like it meant something, and it did, it meant a lot, even if he didn't have a lot of options right now.

"Okay," I said quietly. "After dinner. I'll-- help you sleep."

He smiled at me.

"Thanks, Cassie," he said, and took another bite of food.

I got up and went towards him-- I truly couldn't help it this time. He looked up at me, startled, and at the last second, I dropped to my knees and put my forehead on the edge of the chair between his knees, my hands flat, palms down, on his knees. It was just about enough, the contact, even though it wasn't what I wanted. What I wanted was the last thing he needed. What I wanted was to grab him. What I wanted-- okay, what I wanted was to kiss him.

"Cassie?" he said uncertainly, and I squeezed his knees with my hands.

"I'm okay," I said, the edge of the chair digging into my forehead. "I, um, I think we need to talk to Hippolyta again."