Title: One Track Mind

Summary: "Hey," he defended, "It's not my fault I have a one track mind. I can't think of who to blame, but we'll go with 'not me'." Roy Centric
Date: 17/07/14

'Maybe if I used—' Roy Harper huffed and rolled so his face was in his pillow, trying to smother his traitorous thoughts. He didn't dare look at the clock by his head. He didn't want to know what ungodly hour of the morning it was, he wanted to sleep damnit! His evening with Kori should have knocked him out for a good 6 hours, but he had a feeling he was waking up long before that.

Was it really too much to ask for a good most-of-the-nights' sleep?

'Ooh! Or if I—' his growl was muffled against the linen under his head and he lazily pulled himself up to his elbows to glare in annoyance at this pillow, as if it was feeding him ideas in his sleep.

'Apparently it is too much to ask,' he thought bitterly. His brain was bound and determined to solve that fuel exchange issue with the ship that was keeping them island-bound; it had been grating on his nerves for 2 whole days! Two! Forty-eight hours! It was maddening...

This stupid fuel problem had kept him up the night before and although he did get a wonderful 3 hour nap at his console, they had also ran a little assassination mission with Jay. So finally Kori, his gorgeous alien princess, had decided at 11:00 the night before that it was time he slept and after her usual persuasion (Read: An hour of insanely hot and vigorous sex) he had fallen asleep. Similar sessions usually knocked him out for 6 hours.

The sex was great, but damn the stupid spaceship keeping him awake!

Against his better judgement, he glanced at the digital clock next to his head.

5:07—his usual wake up time, give or take the mental battle as to whether or not to actually open his eyes.

He groaned and let himself fall into his pillow again. At least it was almost 6 hours... Kori wouldn't notice if he sneaked to the fuselage to run a quick engine diagnostic and look over a couple of potential chemical compounds that could run the ship in place of the Tamaranean fuel they were almost out of... right?

His stomach twisted in hunger and made up his mind.

'If I get up for a quick shower and food she won't care,' he finally decided, pulling the tangled blankets off him and gathering clothes to change into. 'If I happen to think about fuel compounds while in the shower...' he grinned, threw his boxers on and snuck into the bathroom.

Roy sighed happily and ran his fingers through his damp hair, pulling it out of his eyes. He still couldn't figure out his fuel issue, but at least he didn't feel so gross any more. It was hard to be stressed with a solid stream of hot water tumbling over his head and shoulders.

"I should just live in showers..." he muttered, throwing his dirty towel onto the small pile of laundry on the washroom floor.

"Is there a bed in the shower?" Something— his spine maybe?—dropped into his stomach.

"Morning Kori," he managed without stuttering and turned to the bathroom door. Kori had her light purple, silk nightgown on that made it near impossible for Roy to look her in the explosive emeralds she called eyes. Her arms were crossed stubbornly under her bust, pushing it up and making them seem even larger.

'Damnit, that's my favorite—'

"How long have you been awake, Roy?" she questioned, accusingly.

"Um..." he scratched at the back of his neck, suddenly finding the floor the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. He glanced up under his ginger bangs to find her gorgeous eyes boring into his own plain blue. "What time is it?"

"5:34."

"27 minutes?" he answered sheepishly, hoping she wouldn't be too angry. "I wanted food and a shower." The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at her lips, and the red-headed man knew that he wasn't in trouble. He grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a quick kiss. "Want French Toast?" Her eyes lighting up was the only answer he needed.

He led her through the ship to their living space –the mess hall when the ship had a crew-, sat her at the table they had set up next to the cooking space and started pulling ingredients from their homes and onto the counter. Kori hit the power button to the TV on the other side of the room and flipped through the satellite channels until she found GBS and, after turning the sound off, turned back to her ginger.

They were silent as she watched him move around the kitchen, mixing eggs and his 'secret combination of awesome French Toast stuff', and frying them on the small pan he had heating on the stove.

"Did your compounds wake you up?" she eventually asked. Roy chuckled and nodded.

"Something like that," he turned from the stove and leaned against the counter with a pensive look. "It's just fuel," he whined, wiping his hands down his face slowly. "I know the composition of every fuel known to America and every legal one on the planet, and every one of them would break your engine. Every one I can think of would probably do the same thing."

"It amuses me that you care for the ships' needs, and still refer to it as 'mine'," she responded, smirking around her hand. She was lazily resting her chin on her hand while she watched him work and ponder. Roy chuckled again and moved the toast onto plates. "Three?"

"Bread is involved. Jaybird'll be here in 3... 2... 1..." Roy set the plates on the table just as their fearless leader shuffled into the room. His blue eyes were barely open, his PJ pants were hanging low on his hips making his pant legs cover his feet to the point that Roy was sure he'd trip, and his hair looked like he had gotten into a fight with his pillow.

"Morning Jaybird!" Roy declared around a laugh, moving out of Kori's way so she could grab drinks for them. "How'd you sleep?"

"Toast," he muttered, plopping down at the table and shoving a piece in his mouth, cursing mildly when it burnt his tongue. Roy and Kori rolled their eyes at him.

"Last I understood, 'toast' was not a state of being, Jason," Kori chastised with a smirk. Jason only grunted in response.

"You would think that was a cup of coffee," Roy commented, sitting between the princess and ex-Robin with a glass of water and his food.

"Caffeine is gross," Jason grumbled around his breakfast.

"And the two of you hardly sleep enough to sustain yourselves as it is," Kori added, looking accusingly at the other red-head. "You do not need any help staying awake."

"Hey," he defended, "It's not my fault I have a one track mind," he paused to swallow and looked pensively ahead of him. "I can't think of who to blame, but we'll go with 'not me'," he finished with a shrug. It was Jasons' turn to roll his eyes.

"Still can't figure out what gas to put in the ship?" Roy nodded, taking a sip of his milk. "Tell me again why you don't just replace the damned thing?"

"'Cause I can't figure out what compound to use! The materials in the fuel we have—"

"Not the gas, Harper," Jason interrupted. "The engine."

Slowly, Roy put his glass down. His eyes darted back and forth across the table like he was reading a blueprint only he could see; soon after, his hands started drawing invisible lines on the expanse of the table.

"I could..!" he muttered with a grin. "It would need to have enough power run—"

"Are you kidding?" Jason asked, exasperated, rolling his eyes again and taking a drink of his juice. "He never considered just building another engine?" Roy wasn't paying attention at this point; he was solely focused on the machinery appearing in his head. "He can turn currency into deadly weapons and a self propelled nuclear bomb into an alien translator and didn't think to just build a goddamned engine?"

"He was concentrating on the fuel. He did just admit to a one track mind."

"I'm gonna go kill some constructs while Arsenal works..." He took one last swig of his drink before stalking off to change, cursing quietly and muttering that he 'doesn't even wanna try and figure out how his stupid fucking genius brain works'.

"Got it!" Suddenly, Roy jumped from his seat, giddily kissed Kori's cheek, babbling incessantly about how much his loves his teammates, and running off to the engine room.

Kori sighed and continued eating, picking a piece of Roy's unfinished breakfast off his plate and shaking her head, grinning to herself. "Those boys..."

So, I have a goal of 12 fics this year... I'm two behind. I can do this. Totally.