imasupermuteant: (Happy!Bart)
[personal profile] imasupermuteant
Title: There Will be Pie (AKA: The Booster/Bart Thanksgiving Thing)
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Booster Gold/Bart Allen
Rating/Warnings: Rated PG-13 for an established relationship between an adult and a consenting teenager.
Word Count: 1269
Summary and author's note: The holiday season is a time for family. Even if you don't want it to be.

This fic is about Thanksgiving. I hate Thanksgiving. It's a horrible holiday in which people are forced to spend time together even if they don't want to and I'm not allowed to have any pie. Also it's usually on or just after my birthday. Pretty much the shittiest holiday ever. Booster, however, disagrees with me.




Thanksgiving, as far as Booster was concerned, was one of the greatest holidays ever. It gave him an excuse to eat as much food as he wanted without Beetle giving him the stink eye, there was a parade on TV, and he didn't have to buy anyone a gift. Also, Mrs. Gregory who lived down the hall would foist her leftovers on him and he wouldn't have to cook for a week. It was great.

Add to that the fact that they didn't have Thanksgiving when Booster was from. Mostly because of some silly thing about cultural insensitivity and smallpox, but Booster wasn't clear on the details and was mostly interested in experiencing a whole new celebration. Booster had the pleasure of enjoying the holiday without any of the cultural guilt. He was from the future.

Booster had been looking forward to celebrating the holiday with some pie, football, and maybe Ted and Bart.

What he hadn't been looking forward to was an awkward call from his younger lover (it was clear there was someone listening in on the other end because Bart was speaking slowly and without curses) inviting him to Thanksgiving dinner at the Garrick household.

Booster had eaten dinner with the Garricks before and it had been possibly the most awkward experience of his entire life. There was nothing more uncomfortable than trying to eat while being glared down by the protective guardians of your teenage boyfriend. Nothing. Add in the likelihood that Wally would be there and Booster was sure that he wouldn't leave the dinner table with all of his genitalia intact.

"Please?" Bart's voice whined over the phone, "There will be pie!"

Booster did like pie.

On the other hand, Booster really didn't like Wally.

"Well..." How to let Bart down softly?

"'Cause I used to have Thanksgiving at Max's house and now we're not. I mean, obviously. And I thought it would be nice for you to be there with me, but not if you don't want to 'cause I know you don't like Wally all that much and..."

Fuck.

"Sure thing, babe!" Booster faked his cheerfullest voice while mentally kissing his pleasant holiday celebration goodbye, "I'll be there with bells on."

"Bells? I thought that was Christmas. These holidays don't make any sense!"

Booster grinned, Bart was pretty much the most adorable thing ever. "I'll be there."

"Good." There was a long pause over the line, "So... Ummm... Jay is sitting, like, right beside me, but I thought you should know that I really like you and this means a lot."

"I like you too." Booster told him, reminding himself that Thanksgiving with Bart was better than Thanksgiving without Bart, even if Wally had to be involved, "Are you sure I can't talk you into Beer and Parade Night with Ted?"

"If only." Booster could just imagine Bart making that adorable scrunched-nose face, "That would be way more fun."

Booster sighed, "I guess I'll see you on Thursday then."

"Yeahokaybye!" The phone clicked and Booster was left alone.

Alone with plans for Thanksgiving.

Plans which conflicted with his annual non-plans with Ted. Which usually included beer and turkey and Doing Stupid Stuff. Someone was going to be upset with Booster's change in plans. Two people, really, as Booster himself wasn't so keen on the idea.

With a sigh, Booster lifted up his phone and pressed the speed-dial (number 2, number 1 was for the Chinese place down the street). Each ring fell upon his ears like a death toll or a dying cow or something equally ominous.

"Kord Industries, we only make weapons of mass destruction when you aren't looking."

"Ted?"

"Whassup Boost?" Ted sounded distracted. Most likely he was working on something vaguely dangerous.

"So..." How to say this? "You know about our plans for Thursday?"

"Booze, football, me carefully not bringing up girls so that I don't have to listen to intimate details of your sordid sex life. Just like every year. Why?"

Booster took a deep breath, "I can't make it."

"What? Why?! You love Thanksgiving!"

"I know."

"There's beer! And a parade!"

"I know."

"You don't even have to give anyone presents!"

Ted was sounding pretty damn upset. Booster had no idea that their private celebration had meant so much to him.

"I'm going over to Bart's. Dinner with the Flash Familia."

There was a long pause. Booster heard something that sounded very much like soldering. Ted was definitely taking his frustrations out with a blow torch.

"Buddy?"

"You're going to celebrate the greatest holiday ever with the family of your underage paramour who, I might add, hate you more than waiting in line. Instead of chilling with me?"

"...Yes?"

"Dude! Not cool!" There was the blowtorch again. Booster felt a twinge of pity for whatever poor chunk of metal was receiving the brunt of Ted's ire.

"I couldn't say no!"

"Bros before hos, Booster, bros before hos!"

"Who even says that anymore?" Booster demanded, "I thought we could be grown up about this."

"Well I don't want to." Ted told him, "Call me when it's time to cancel Christmas."

There was a click. And a dial tone.

Booster was relatively sure that he would be talking to Ted before the next holiday. These little pouts were usually the result of too little sleep and too much coffee combined with science-ing.

He made a mental note to give Ted a call the next day.

At least, he thought to himself, there would be pie. Pie would make everything better. For pie (and Bart), Booster would sit through anything.

Even Wally.

And, speaking of the the sanctimonious prick, Booster had an errand to run.

He was up to the watchtower and delivering his birthday bouquet to Zatanna (it never hurt to remember birthdays, especially ones that occurred close to holidays) when he ran into the scarlet speedster himself. Physically.

"Ow! Fuck!" Wally cried as Booster knocked into him from behind. He'd been standing (rudely) in the middle of the hallway and Booster's vision had been blocked by the flowers and, really, who stood in the middle of the hallway?

"Feki!" Booster cried, trying to keep the vase from toppling over.

"Watch where you're going-- Oh. It's you."

Never had a pair of eyes glared so heavily in Booster's direction (and he'd been on the receiving end of Bat-disapproval).

"Hey, Flash."

"Booster."

"I... err..."

"Secret admirer?"

"No. It's Zatanna's birthday."

"I didn't know you and Zatanna were that close." Chilly. Booster almost shivered.

"We're not."

Flash raised an eyebrow, "Got a little crush have you? I thought you were gay."

Booster felt his lips tightening into a thin line, "It's called good networking, Wally, and binary definitions of sexual orientation are an outdated concept."

"So is basic morality, apparently."

"You know what Flash--" Booster inhaled, calming himself down, "I... Let's just try to be civil, okay? Look, do you want me to bring anything?"

"What?"

"To Thanksgiving. Do you want me to bring something? Wine? Pie?"

"You're coming to Thanksgiving?!"

Shit. Booster was not prepared for this amount of family drama. Certainly not before the actual holiday began.

"Uh... yeah?"

Had Wally been anyone else Booster might have described the look on his face as a pout. Or maybe fury. It was hard to tell, but the Flash was definitely getting redder in the face with every moment.

A burst of wind, knocking every bloom off of Booster's bouquet, and Wally was gone.

Booster looked at his ruined (and very expensive) gift. Sighed. And headed home. If Wally's reaction was anything to go by, this holiday was going to be Horrible.





Next Part: Bart!