A/N: This is now a series of Wally/Artemis one-shots. They're all from the same universe, my Wally/Artemis headcanon universe, and will be unless otherwise specified. This can be seen as a companion story to Evolution of Soulmates.

For Gwen (or Satellies on Parade/Brella) :). Happy birthday my dear!

rated: M
words: 2,229
pairings: wally/artemis, post-depths
summary: They've never needed words to convey to each other how they felt.
a/n: This could somewhat be considered a companion piece to my story Bittersweet Surrender, but you don't have to read that to read this. All you need to know is that this is my version of Wally and Artemis' reunion post-undercover biz.

Louder Than Words

"Home, sweet home," Wally says, wearily pushing open the front door of their apartment.

Artemis takes in the sight eagerly through her exhaustion, wondering if anything's changed in her 2 month absence. Everything looks the same, albeit, a little messier than she had left it. That was to be expected though; even if Wally was one of the fastest men alive, he never did like cleaning up after himself.

A soft growl to her left catches her attention, and she looks down to see that Nelson has padded over to them.

"Hey, boy," she says, leaning over to pet him. "Did you miss me?"

He looks up at her with big confused eyes, his black nose sniffing wildly. A whine escapes him and he shuffles backwards, away from her. She instinctively looks to Wally.

"He doesn't remember me," she says, but her voice cracks towards the end, making it seem like a question.

Wally shakes his head, resting a hand on her shoulder. It burns and she idly remembers the jolt of pain she felt when she had dislocated it earlier that night, along with the subsequent memory of Nightwing popping it back into place. But she doesn't flinch or tell Wally to remove his hand. His tough is comforting and she's missed it so much that she could almost burst.

"He's just confused, I think," he says. His fingers brush the back of her neck making her shiver. "You still have your charm on."

Her hand flies up to her neck and sure enough, the charm is there. When she'd first begun her undercover mission, it had felt like a noose, but now, even after her cover had been blown and her friends knew she was alive, she had felt naked without it and must have put it back on.

"Force of habit, I guess," she murmurs, reaching behind her to unclasp the necklace. The minute she does, Nelson scampers back over to her and tries to climb up her leg in his attempts to lick her face. She laughs, the sound completely foreign to her after these last couple months, and kneels to scratch him behind the ears. His tongue lolls out of his mouth happily, and he gives her a big, wet lick before heading back to his preferred sleeping place on the couch.

Artemis looks up to smile at Wally and something inside of her threatens to break free at the look in his eyes. It's one part relief, one part happiness, and then one part pure lust, and it reminds her of so many lonely nights when all she wanted was Wally's touch: his lips on her skin; his hands in her hair; his chest brushing up against hers. He reaches down to take her hands and pulls her back into a standing position. He doesn't let go even once she's upright next to him.

Their eyes are locked, green on grey, and she's afraid to even blink because what if this is all just a dream and she wakes up on her bunk in Black Manta's sub, reaching out for his warm body only to be met with air. But no, this is real, she thinks as his finger comes up to trace a line across her jaw. Their foreheads come to rest together and she finally allows herself to close her eyes, just savoring the sound of his breathing and his musky scent.

It's almost comical thinking about someone peeking in through their window and seeing both of them clad in their costumes, ripped and dirty from the battle earlier that evening, just standing there holding each other. When she thinks about what they've both been through though, it doesn't seem so funny. But it's over, for now at least. She can come back to the world and live again. It feels like surfacing after holding your breath underwater for too long. It had been her choice to take on this mission, and it had been the hardest thing she'd ever had to do in her life. She knows that she would make the same choice if she had to do it a second time around, but she can't deny that she's beyond relieved that the ruse is finally over.

She opens her eyes to find Wally still staring at her and she can feel her face flushing. His expression says everything that doesn't need to be spoken out loud between them; even when they were younger they'd never needed words to convey to each other how they felt. It had always been about gestures and body language. Right now his stare means, I missed you, and his hand caressing her cheek is an, I love you. He straightens up and pulls her against his body and she knows the mean of this, too: I want you. I need you.And even though she's tired and dirty and hungry, desire races through her veins. She needs him, too.

"You need a shower," she observes, her voice a little hoarse.

"So do you, Miss Thing," he replies quietly, smoothing his thumb across what she guesses is a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

He hasn't called her that in a long time so it makes her smile and think of better days, more reckless days when they were in their teens and convinced that they could take on the world. But they're still young, she thinks. She hasn't even turned 21 yet. They can still be reckless.

"Come on," she says, pulling him backwards with her before turning and following the familiar path to their bathroom, her hand grasping tight on to his.

Once they're in the bathroom, she shuts the door behind them to make sure Nelson doesn't intrude, before turning to Wally. It's like an electric current goes through her when their eyes meet again. The sexual tension is so thick in the air it could be cut with a knife. They haven't even kissed yet besides a hurried lip lock after her cover had been blown. It's not like they've forgotten how, though; she just knows that once they start they'll never want to stop.

He sees her intentions and busies himself with turning on the shower and getting it to the right temperature. When he turns back around she has divested herself of her Tigress costume (and isn't sure whether she wants to frame or burn the damn thing) and her underthings. She doesn't cover herself, though she has a few new scars; he's seen every part of her and she has no reason to feel insecure. His admiring gaze makes her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. His yellow and red digs land in a heap on the tile floor next to hers and he fingers dance down her spinal cord as she enters the shower ahead of him. The glass door shuts behind them and they both groan out loud as the hot water hits their aching muscles. She turns to face Wally, marveling at the drops of water that stream down his sculpted chest. Her college friends always said she was so lucky to have a boyfriend who was a former "track star" and she is inclined to agree with them.

She reaches into the shower caddy and grabs the bar of soap there as Wally grabs her shampoo bottle that has apparently sat untouched for two months. She presses the soap bar to his chest and began rubbing soothing circles across his chest, arms, and his broad shoulders, languishing in places where there were smears of dirt or where she just wants to touch him a little longer.

So busy is she on cleaning him up that she doesn't notice his hands venture behind her head until she feels his fingers lathering shampoo into her hair. She moans at the sensation and her eyes fall shut as his fingertips massage her scalp. Once he's finished, she hands off the bar of soap to him and tips her head back into the stream of water, running her hands through her blonde locks in an effort to remove the shampoo.

Wally carefully rubs the bar of soap over her body; arms, shoulders, back, and she can't help but notice his obvious skipping over of her breasts; two parts of her anatomy that she's pretty sure are his favorites. It's like he doesn't want to disturb the current non-sexual atmosphere of their shower. When the last of the suds are out of her hair, she lowers her hands, one of them finding Wally's wrist and guiding it to her chest. He looks almost nervous, which reminds her again of their younger days when he had been big on talk but had blushed at red as his hair the first time she'd taken her top off.

But his hand is slow and steady as it guides the bar of soap along the supple skin of her chest. She makes the mistake of looking up at him, only to find him gazing right back at her, his eyes burning like hot coals with desire and lust. It's a look that sets her lower body aflame with pure want and she finds that she can't look away, not even when the sound of the soap falling to the shower floor rings out through the bathroom.

Almost instantly, Wally has his arms encircled around her waist and his lips slant over hers. She melts against him, standing on her tiptoes to wrap one hand across the back of his neck, using the other to plunge through his hair. Their naked, wet bodies slide against each other and Artemis feels a shiver run through Wally's entire body even as he devours her mouth. His kiss is eager and passionate but with an edge of desperation, as if he too thought this might be a dream. She matches every movement he makes, just as she's always been able to and even starts to curl her leg around his calf, seeking some leverage.

He immediately sees her intentions and hoists her up in one fluid motion without breaking their kiss. He presses her against the shower tiles and her legs automatically wind their way around his hips, igniting delicious sensations between their lower bodies, which make both of them groan in pleasure.

Wally pries his mouth away from hers suddenly, gasping, causing Artemis to open her eyes. He's looking down at her with the most forlorn expression now and she' reminded of all the lonely nights they've had to spend apart. These last two months are the longest they've had to spend without each other since they were fifteen years old and Artemis knows that however bad it was for her, it had to have been twice as worse for him. He'd had to pretend like she was dead, and yet come home every night to their empty apartment, sleep in their empty bed, knowing all along that she was somewhere out there. She's not sure she would have been able to do the same without going crazy if the tables had been turned. She reaches over to shut off the showerhead, waiting for him to catch his breath.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the skin there. "Don't ever leave me again," he mumbles, and she knows he's only half-joking. "I can't function without you."

"That's not healthy," she replies breathily in his ear.

"You think I don't know that?" he laughs humorlessly. His kisses down her neck and hoists her even higher so that he can graze his lips over the peaks of her breasts. "You drive me crazy, babe."

"Are you complaining?" she asks, her breath hitching at his ministrations. She's practically shaking with wanting him so bad, but she knows him, know them; banter has always been a part of their foreplay.

"Not at all," he replies. "I just want to make sure you know what you do to me."

"I have some idea," she whispers coyly. Artemis presses her lower body against his and can't help her smirk of satisfaction when he moans her name.

A second later she's wrapped in a towel and thrown onto their bed with him standing over her, running a quick towel over his lean body. He throws it away and climbs over her, discarding her towel as well. Wally's back to being tender, cautious again, enfolding her in his arms and planting soft kisses on her cheeks, her forehead, her eyelids. She revels in his attentions, spreading her fingers along his shoulder blades.

"God, I missed you," he blurts out raggedly, halting his caresses and holding his face above hers.

"Not as much as I missed you," she tells him truthfully, cupping his face in her hands.

He swallows harshly and she can't exactly tell, but she thinks there might be tears in his eyes. She won't call him on it though. Not tonight.

"I love you," he says softly.

"Show me," is all she says in response. She doesn't need to respond in kind because he knows. And after all, with them, actions always speak louder than words.

So, he shows her; multiple times until they both finally succumb to their exhaustion. And she's never known a better feeling than when she wakes up the next morning still wrapped in his arms.

a/n: Please review!