No Notion of Halves

Jason Todd makes an unlikely friend. Unlikely because he's supposed to be an average civilian, and the friend in question happens to be a Titan who wouldn't hesitate to turn him in if she ever found out who he was. In his defense, befriending Starfire had never been a part of his plans — but he just can't seem to stay away, can he?

"I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature. My attachments are always excessively strong."

― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

If anyone had asked him why he returned to Jump — not that anyone knew enough about him to ask, obviously — he wouldn't have known what to say. Frankly, he wasn't sure either. Maybe it was the routine he had built in the years since he first came here. Maybe it was because the city was so unlike Gotham in the best way, with its California sunlight and ocean breeze. Or maybe it was just because he was a lot more sentimental than he thought.

Whatever it was, he came back. He returned with the resolve to keep his head down and to leave the life of costumed vigilantes firmly in the past where it belonged. To do something peaceful and productive and normal with himself. Something that wouldn't get him killed in the process.

Stability. That was what he needed. What he had always needed even as a street rat with a no-good, third-rate thug for a father and a depressed junkie for a mother. What he thought he had when he wore garish tights and jumped over rooftops and believed himself invincible.

So he hung up the cape and the mask and the suit. He used his considerable skills to erase everything about Red X that could be traced back to him.

Then he got a job. It wasn't exactly glamorous, but he didn't have much cause to complain. The erratic opening hours suited him well enough, and the pay was good — better, even, than what a secondhand bookstore seller should probably earn. The owner didn't seem to care what he did on and off duty, and was content to leave him alone so long as he kept the record books in order.

Which was fine by him. It meant he had enough to pay rent, eat food that wasn't days-old pizza, and enroll in a community college. He ended up getting roommates, who were tolerable enough despite all their chattiness and the dirty laundry they kept lying around.

But he had certainly survived worse. He could deal with it. He could learn to live with it.

Because for the first time in his life, things weren't spiraling out of his control. At last, he had settled into a simple, uncomplicated existence of normalcy. And he was fucking happy about it, thank you very much.

So when Starfire came in his store one afternoon, Jason Todd felt his blood run cold. This is it, he thought. The end of the line.

He hadn't recognized her right away, but he spotted her glaring red hair before anything else, the dying winter wind whipping long strands of it wildly around her head like a signal flag. Hey, was his first thought, unable to not notice her bright eyes and the set of her mouth as she stepped inside. Familiar, was the next, a nagging thought at the back of his head as he watched his newest customer wander further into the store.

Jason dismissed it. It was probably his mind playing tricks, because he had a pretty girl in his shop and he couldn't not check her out. The kind of pretty that meant she was way, way out of his league, but a guy could dream, couldn't he?

But the nagging feeling stayed even as he entertained the other patrons. More than once, Jason found his gaze drifting to her direction, watching as she ambled from bookshelf to bookshelf. She caught him at it too, giving him a shy smile before turning back to a pile of romance books he kept near the very back of the store.

He was a bit disappointed when the girl moved to leave. Not because she had loitered in the store for a good half hour without buying anything — which wasn't exactly unusual — but because Jason had been hoping for an excuse to chat her up without seeming like a creep. Still, he made sure to flash his most charming smile when she passed, calling out the usual customer service script as she headed for the exit.

"Thanks for coming. Have a nice day."

Jason hadn't expected her to return the rote goodbye with a large grin and a cheery wave.

"I wish you the nice day as well!" she said, leaving the tinkling bell above the doorway ringing in her wake.

And then it hit him, the nagging feeling growing into full blown panic as recognition slid into place. It felt as though his whole world had come to an abrupt standstill.

The hair. The eyes. The pretty face. The accent.

Shit.

Jason closed the store early that day. As he finished up the week's inventory, he was vaguely aware that he was doing an awful job at it. His boss would probably be pissed at him if she knew.

Not that it mattered now. The list of sales was the last thing on his mind. Because all those months of putting his life back on track, after years of believing he was no more than a lost cause? Gone. Down the drain. All because one nondescript January afternoon, a Titan — a fucking Titan — came in his store and saw him without his mask.

Shit shit shit. . . .

Was it only happenstance? Had Starfire, dressed like a civilian and disguised as a human, simply ended up in his store by chance?

Or was it more than that? A reconnaissance mission, maybe? Some intelligence-gathering job?

And if it is? What now?

Jason couldn't shake the feeling that she knew. That she had recognized him just as he had recognized her. That somehow, the Titans had figured out who he was, where he worked, what he did — and they were going to haul him away from the life he had built, back to all the madness and crazy shit he had worked so hard to leave behind.

A dozen or so contingency plans swirled in his head. Where he could go, how he could get there, what he could do. . . . Maybe he sounded a bit paranoid, jumping to conclusions and all, but Jason liked to think he had good reason to be, given — well, his whole existence, basically. This wouldn't be the first time he packed his bags and rebuilt his life from scratch. It wouldn't be easy, especially now when he had just gotten his shit together, but he would do it if he had to. If his situation really was that dire, if his identity was compromised. . . .

Either the universe had it out for him or the whole encounter was some stupid coincidence that was never going to happen again. At any rate, he could always cut his losses and move to Canada.

The universe had it out for him.

Starfire came back the next day, while he was in the middle of doing his homework behind the counter. She looked human — arched eyebrows, white sclera, less orange skin — but it was hard to unsee who she really was now that Jason had seen through her disguise. Even if she was all smiles as she entered the store, so disarming that the few customers inside smiled back when she passed.

Like last time, Starfire wandered around the store, seemingly aimless. Jason kept her in his line of sight, taking care to be inconspicuous about it. In his mind, he had already plotted how he was going to get out, in case this was an ambush and the other Kiddy Leaguers decided to burst through the roof to drag him to jail. Or they would try to, at least.

But the more he stared at her, the less certain he was that the Titans were going to show up. There was just something about Starfire — how she would light up when she found a good book, the way her forehead would crinkle at some of the titles, the careful way she scanned through the aisles.

Jason forced himself to relax. This is fine, he told himself, trying to turn his attention back to the stack of work ahead of him. Everything's fine. So what if there was a literal alien superhero in his store? It didn't have to mean anything. He could just pretend to not know about the alien superhero part, forget that the pretty girl he had been eyeing hadn't tried to arrest him the last time they saw each other.

He could do this. His life was normal now, and not noticing superheroes in disguises was a normal people thing to do. There were better things to do than getting worked up over the past.

Like his homework, for one thing. Unnerved as he was by Starfire's arrival, he still had papers to finish, and they were kicking his ass, general education class or not. Still, it was probably a less painful experience than getting paranoid over a bunch of do-good, boy scout vigilantes.

Back to work, Todd.

By the time his coffee was nothing but cold dregs, Jason had only made it through half a chapter. Not a stunning amount of progress. He had just talked himself into seriously focusing when he remembered the elephant in the room. Though it wasn't remembering so much as Starfire suddenly appearing into view, leaning over the counter so that they were nearly face to face. She was hard to miss, what with that hair and those eyes so up close.

Jason was too well trained to jump in surprise, but he blinked, taking a second to find his bearings. "Can I help you?" he said, as pleasantly as he could manage.

"Yes you may!" she said brightly. "I am in need of recommendations."

Well. This was unexpected.

"Like . . . book recommendations?"

She tilted her head, eyebrows slightly drawn. "I was not aware your store sells anything else."

"Uh, no," he said. "Just books. So — er — what do you normally read?"

"Oh, it is not for me. It is for my friend's birthday. I am uncertain what to get her."

God, this was just too surreal. "What does she like?"

"I afraid I am unfamiliar with the books she reads, but I believe they are the . . . heavy things?"

"Heavy . . . things?"

She nodded. "Our friends have teased her for it before, but I have not read any of them to say so myself."

"Not your taste?"

She frowned. "Please, what do books have to do with the sensation of flavor?"

"Um . . . nothing at all. It's just another way or saying preference or . . . uh, liking. Partiality."

"Ah, I see," she said, cheeks a bit warm. He noticed, because her face was angled downwards, in a way that made the dust hanging in the air between them scatter sunlight across her cheekbones.

Not that he really should be noticing these things. At all.

He cleared his throat. "So, uh, your friend. What else does she like?"

"Dickens, Brontë, Steinbeck, Hugo . . ." she listed, ticking each name off on her fingers, "but I confess I do not recognize their names."

"They're old school stuff. Classics." If she had been anyone else, Jason would have assumed this friend of hers was either an English major without a life or a pretentious asshole who never read a book after high school. "Well, if she's a fan, you could never go wrong with the special editions. Bit pricey though."

"That is fine," she said, and her expression cleared. "Do you know what I can get her?"

"I have a few ideas."

Jason had a pretty good guess who the friend was. Obvious, really. He doubted Starfire and the rest of the Brady Bunch left their Tower long enough to actually meet other people, much less befriend them. It wasn't exactly a long list, and only one of them seemed like the sort to actually care about literature.

And if he was right about that, then he had feeling he knew what she would like. He got one of the out-of-print edition books he kept in the back, the hardcover one with the drawings that most people would probably turn their noses up at. But then, most people preferred newer books that didn't have darkened pages or a musty scent.

"Wasn't sure which Brontë sister your friend likes," Jason said as he returned to the counter, "but Jane Eyre is a safe bet."

Starfire, who had been peering at his mess of papers and notes, looked up at his approach, head tilted as she eyed the 1943 edition book he handed her. She flipped through it, lingering on the illustrations.

"It looks lovely," she said, sounding pleased. "I shall take it."

"Want me to wrap it up?"

"If it is not too much trouble."

"Not at all. Just give me five minutes."

Jason was tempted to use that hideous neon pink paper he inexplicably had in stock, but eventually went with a nice dark blue. No use in ruining someone's birthday with something so petty as ugly gift wrap. Consider it his good deed for the week or something.

He expected Starfire to wander around the store some more as he wrapped the book, but she stayed at the counter, frowning at his homework.

"The answer is D," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"On item number 9," she clarified.

Jason was just about to wrap the present with a golden ribbon, but he paused to lean over and look at his assignment. Along the margins were crossed out equations, eraser shavings, and bad doodles. It was hard to tell where he left off, but he didn't need to see the item in question to know he had gotten it wrong. Hell, he was pretty sure he was getting most of the assignment wrong — but in his defense, what the fuck was he doing in Calculus anyway?

"I apologize," Starfire went on. "I had not meant to pry, but you had looked troubled earlier while you were working on these. I could not help but be curious."

"Yeah, well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's been giving me some trouble." Not that it's the only one. "How did you know? About number 9, I mean."

She launched into an explanation the left his mind reeling. By the end of it, he could do no more than blink at her, numbers and formulas dancing behind his eyes.

"Cutie, I have no idea what you just said," he told her when she finished.

"Shall I repeat it?"

"Thanks but no. I appreciate the effort, but my ears will probably start bleeding. I'll just take your word for it." He circled D on his paper with a furnish, then tucked the pen behind his ear. "There. Thanks."

"This paper . . . what is it for?" she asked, eyes still raking over his assignment. "I take that it is not for recreation?"

Jason snorted as he went back to wrapping the book. "God, no," he said. "It's just homework. I probably shouldn't be doing it here, but I'm kind of behind and my boss doesn't really care so. . . ."

"Homework," she echoed. "You are in school?"

He made a face. "It's ridiculous, I know. To be twenty-three and just starting."

"Is that unusual? To start at twenty-three?"

"Well . . . kind of? I mean, there are people who just stop. Take a year off or two after graduating high school. Most people go to college immediately though. Don't know what the ratio is but pretty sure it doesn't work in my favor."

"I do not think it ridiculous at all. Surely it is better to do something late than to never begin?"

"Guess so," he said, shrugging. "Everyone's got a story."

Starfire peered rather intently at him, long enough that he felt the urge to squirm under her gaze. "Indeed."

A twinge of panic ran through him, and he looked away. "The book is done, by the way," he said, a little tersely. "Can I get you anything else?"

"There is no need," she said. "I thank you very much for your help."

"No problem. Hope your friend likes the book."

Jason rang it up and told her the total. Her fingers fumbled over the coins for a moment, muttering, "Quarters, dimes, nickels, pennies," under her breath. He pretended not to notice as he handed her her change.

The transaction complete, he knew he could have left it at that. Thanked her for coming, bid her goodbye, then pretend their entire encounter never happened. That this whole thing was just a tiny stain in his otherwise plain, average — and normal, goddammit, he was supposed to be normal now — existence.

But curiosity got the better of him. Before he could stop himself, he inclined his head toward his still unfinished homework and said, "You're pretty good at that. Calculus."

Starfire hummed slightly as she pocketed her change. "It is easy to understand once you know the basics."

"Must be nice to be able to figure out mathematical formulas in your head."

"Is there not the saying 'math is a universal language'?"

He chuckled. "Sure. Doesn't mean I speak it fluently though. We can't all be super geniuses."

"Truly, it does not need genius. Only practice," she said, smiling. "Perhaps you need to partake in more of it. That is the purpose of the homework, is it not?"

"Nah. Pretty sure it's for torture. Want to break a guy's spirit? Give him math." He got one of the nicer paper bags, put her book and the receipt inside, and handed it over. "I'd give my first born to get out of it, honestly."

She pulled a face, but her eyes were shining. "That is not allowed. It would be most unethical."

"Kidding," he said. "I already gave it up for that nice motorcycle out front."

Starfire laughed, and for some reason it felt like a victory. "I suppose it does seem nice," she said, glancing at his motorcycle through the front window.

"Yeah. Totally worth it."

"Then I wish you luck with the rest of your homework . . ." she trailed off, looking at him in askance.

The name slipped out of him before he could think it through. "It's Jason."

"Jason," she repeated, as if to test it out. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jason."

"And you?" He didn't know what made him say that aloud either, but he supposed it was only fair. A name for a name.

He could've sworn she faltered for a second, pausing slightly before she answered, "You may call me Kori. Kori Anders."

"Kori, huh?" He wasn't sure what he expected her to say, but the alias had a nice ring to it. "Nice. I mean, it's a pretty name. Not to sound creepy or anything."

She smiled again, wide and genuine. "You are not. I am glad you think it is pretty. I do not — most people do not use it anymore."

"Childhood nickname?"

"Something of the sort."

"Well, the pleasure's all mine, Kori."

Jason was surprised to find that he meant it, and even more surprised to realize that he had actually enjoyed their small talk. He allowed himself a small smile as she left, her pretty, large green eyes turning back towards the entrance.

The door tinkled after her. He glanced around at the now-empty store, then plopped down on his seat, eyeing that damned Calculus assignment. So the warrior princess from another planet — Kori, apparently — was a math whiz. Go figure.

The whole thing was . . . weird. No weirder than the sum of his life for sure, but certainly weirder than it had been these past few months. It was the sort of thing that would make for a funny anecdote, told over drinks while playing catch-up with old pals. Like the setup for some shitty joke. An alien superhero and a zombie walk into a bar. . . .

Except the bar was a bookstore, the zombie had a fake identity, and the alien superhero wasn't meant to be an alien superhero that day, or even the day before that. Just a pretty girl with a pretty name.

So, technically, not a joke at all.

But at least that was the end of that. He had been worried for nothing, and there was no need to move to Canada after all. Awesome. Sure, seeing Starfire again because of mere coincidence — and then, later, for a birthday present, of all things — was a bit strange, but whatever.

It wasn't like Jason was going to be seeing her again, anyway.

Should I really be working on a new story, when I've got a million others waiting to be finished? Probably not, but I couldn't resist. The central premise – Jason trying to live a normal civilian life, away from superheroics – is something I haven't seen a lot of, both in Teen Titans and Batman fics, and I wanted to try my hand at it. Originally, I wanted to have the whole story published on Jason's birthday, but the need for validation outweighed my patience. So validate me, y'all. Review – I'd love to know what you guys think!