Disclaimer- Don't own Young Justice or any of it's characters.

Title: Ignorance is Bliss

Characters/pairing: Wally/Artemis

Genre: Humor/General/Romance

Rating: T for suggestive scenarios and language.

Promptee: The loverly CloaksandDaggers. And the prompt was "Someone accidentally wakes up in the wrong bed in the morning with someone else. Neither remember how this happened and assume the worst, but as they back-track, they realize it wasn't as bad as all that...(or maybe it's worse, it's up to you though ;))"

Title: Ignorance is Bliss (because I couldn't think of anything)


Never in her life had Artemis woken up feeling so warm and relaxed.

The covers draped over her bare shoulders were thick and soft, just right for the cool fall weather that had blown in over the past weeks. They smelled really good, a weird mix of laundry detergent and maybe cologne. Cetainly not the smell her own covers usually carried.

She attempted to open one of her lids, but was blinded by unrelenting sunlight filtering in from a window. With a lazy, contented sigh she rolled over, placing her back to the light and inching closer to a pleasant source of warmth on the right side of the bed.

It was strange for her brain to be so sluggish in the morning. She could barely seem to process anything at all, even the horrifying fact that she was in a bed that didn't seem to be hers, juding by the smell, nor that the "pleasant source of warmth" had a heartbeat.

Indeed, she simply ignored these thoughts and snuggled closer, pressing her face into the crook of the person's neck. Exhaled breath ruffled the loose locks of hair just above her forehead. With a smile she pulled her arms between herself and the warmth, and was nearly back to sleep when her body finally, finally started to register that something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Wait a minute...this isn't-!

There was a knocking sound.

"Wally, dear, wake up! There's some breakfast waiting for you on the kitchen table. I'm heading to work, don't sleep all day!"

The sound of retreating footsteps. The distant slam of a door.

Then silence.

And Artemis's brain went into full on panic mode. Her gray eyes snapped open, taking in the neck she had previously decided it would be cool to stuff her face into.

Wally's neck.

Somehow she stifled the scream that ripped from her throat and jerked away from him, tumbling out of the bed and onto one knee before continuing her mad scramble backwards and slamming into the wall opposite.

The snoring speedster didn't so much as twitch at the movement.

Her heart was pounding and her addled brain was just trying to understand what the ever lasting fuck she was doing in Wally West's freakin' bedroom.

Artemis's locomotive systems had failed her. All she could do was stand there and stare at his sleeping form. The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the light dusting of freckles across his bare shoulder, and the sunlight bathing his face...

A face with a nasty looking gash across it. His left cheek was marred by two deep slashes running along his jaw bone and up, stopping just beneath a swollen eyelid. It was purple and yellow around the edges and looked infected.

She would have felt concern, but there were bigger fish to be fried. She forced her leg muscles to work and crossed back over to the bed, jerked the pillow from beneath his head and proceeded to whack him with it.

Wally came to with a yelp, falling into a heap on the floor.

"The hell?" he snapped. Fists came up to rub at tired eyes, and when he finally opened them, they blinked several times before widening in abject horror.

"Artemis? What are you...what..."

"I was about to ask you the same thing! What the hell am I doing in your bedroom!"

Wally sprung to his feet, clad in nothing but a loose pair of blue jeans that fell so low they left hardly anything to the imagination. Not that she wanted to imagine anything below his waist line.

"Screw that," he snapped, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction. "What are you doing in my clothes?"

Upon inspection she found that the baggy white tank top and checkered boxer shorts didn't belong to her, nor were they part of her normal nighttime ensemble. Her cheeks flushed because the top revealed just a little more cleavage than necessary. She yanked it up high, growling.

"I don't know, you tell me!"

"I-hey. Hey, what happened to your stomach?" His voice and face changed to that of concern. He took a few paces in her direction.

Confused, Artemis peered down at the sliver of skin she'd exposed when she lifted the shirt up. A flat white bandage covered a large area of her stomach and was dotted with dried blood. Fingers itched to remove it, to see the damage beneath, but she thought better of it when she looked back up at his face.

"What happened to your face?"

Wally gave her an unamused glare.

"Really, Artemis? What are you, five?"

"No, Kid Idiot, check in a mirror!" she said, pointing at one she could see poking out from an open bathroom door on the other side of his room.

Pursing his lips, he turned, which was probably a good thing. Another few seconds and she was sure his pants would've slipped down to reveal a little more of his anatomy than she ever wanted to see.

While he was observing himself, she took the opportunity to survey the room. It was pretty typical, clothes strewn all over the place, posters on the wall, state-of-the-art computer in the corner...and a med kit open, it's contents strewn across the carpet.

Okay, that wasn't so typical.

"Yikes, what hit me?" came Wally's voice.

"My guess?" Artemis countered dully, picking up bloody gauze and peroxide covered cotton balls from the floor. "Probably someone you pissed off. So that's a wide range of possibilities."

"Harr-dy-harr harr," he replied blandly, stepping back in.

She gestured at the kit. He rubbed the back of his hair and shrugged.

"Look, I'm at just as much of a loss here, Artemis. My...my memorie's a little fuzzy."

"Mine too...First aid kit on the floor, open window...and oh look, there are my clothes."

Vibrant yellow and deep green uniforms were in a heap near the bed, covered in dirt and looking very tattered. Her quiver and bow were leaning against Wally's nightstand. There were no arrows left.

But the archer's statement didn't bring them any comfort at all. Now the evidence was pointing more and more into quite the awkward...er...scenario.

Oh god, did...did we take off our clothes in front of each other?

She stole a glance in his direction, saw that his face was flushed and knew he must be thinking the same thing.

"Come on, Wally, think. What did we..."

She trailed off, squinted her eyes shut and thought hard...


She remembered Wally carrying her, remembered a burning pain in her stomach, one that was soon blazing through her entire body. The speedster had run for at least an hour, stumbling and pitching every now and again, jarring her wound. It was almost as if he had been drunk.

She remembered arriving at a house, his house, probably through the open window in his room; she couldn't remember that part.

He'd set her on his bed and fetched a first aid kit, staggering back into the room. She remembered the whole room spinning in her vision, feeling as if she were going to puke, and everything had been so bright and kind of silly looking.

"Wally," she'd slurred, pulling her mask off. "Wally."

"S'matter, beautiful?"

"You...yer kind of hot."

"Tha's nice. Take your shirt off."

She glowered at him.

"That's...that's rude. You haven't taken me out to dinner yet."

He paused, blinking at her slowly, uncomprehendingly, brain fizzled by toxins.

"I shared my popcorn with you the other night."


"Take your shirt off so...so I can fix yer booboo," he coaxed, waving peroxide covered gauze through the air. He'd spilled quite a bit of it on the floor in the process.

Neither of them seemed to realize that the cut was in an area where there was no need to remove the top half of her uniform, but she removed it anyway, tossing it to the floor carelessly.

"Don't...don' you dare lookit my chest, or...I'll shove an arrow up your ass," she warned, swaying, forgetting she had no arrows left to hold true to her threat. Her whole body ached from the toxins eating at her system.

He ignored her, dabbing clumsily at her gash. She winced in pain and clutched his shoulders as the liquid bubbled up. After going through several cottonballs, he slapped a big white bandage on it haphazardly and declared,"All done!"

"Okay. Now you take your shirt off!"

She reached for the hem of his "shirt", but instead found her fingers clutching at the fabric of his uniform. She frowned, tugging uselessly.

Then she giggled.

"Ha, you have to take your...all your clothes off!"

"That's not fair," he started to protest, but then Artemis grabbed him and pressed her lips against his. His lips were chapped and dry but they tasted warm and good and somewhere in her drunken mind she thought he still tasted like popcorn.

She pulled away, breathing heavily, looking blissful as she laughed.

"You didn't kiss me baaack."

"I can't..."

"Why not?"

"Because I still...have my shirt on," Wally told her, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Wait..."

He stripped his suit off and tossed it in the floor with the top half of her uniform, leaving him in nothing but striped boxers. Smiling dopily, he took a pair of rumpled blue jeans from the floor and put them on.

"Okay, now I can kiss you."

And so they did, her hands resting on his freckle dusted shoulders, sliding down his back to rest flat against his shoulder blades. He smirked against her lips, pulling her close, and they thoroughly enjoyed every second even in their muddled state.

After a few minutes, they pulled back, breathing heavily, faces flushed from not just the kissing, but the toxin working itself out. Little did they know they'd soon be retching as their bodies expelled the foriegn substance.

Wally frowned.

"Um...what were we doing...before?"

"I don't know," Artemis admitted, then yawned. "I'm...tired."



Artemis flinched back into reality at the feel of Wally's hand brushing her shoulder. She looked at him, standing close, that painful looking wound on his face even more yellow than moments ago.


"I said, I think I know what happened."

"Uh, I remember...poison...or something. I felt...drunk." she admitted, holding her forehead. He nodded.

"Me too. Everything was really fuzzy. But before that, I think we were on a mission."

"That's right. We were. And it was..."

"Poison... Poison Ivy!" Wally exclaimed, subconsciously touching his face. "And she hit us with these vines. And the vines had thorns on them!"

Suddenly it all became very clear to them. Poison Ivy's vines had been covered in thorns coated with some sort of toxin, a toxin that had affected their bodies in a way remarkebly similar to alcohol.

"And we...uh...I brought you to my house..."


"And we, we fell asleep."

"In your bed. Together."


Neither of them dared broach the topic of kissing, or stripping their clothes. They both knew though, shot each other piercing, knowing glances that made their cheeks flame.

"So...we should probably go to Mount Justice. If we got hit, odds are the others did, too." Wally said after a long and very uncomfortable silence. Artemis nodded, picking her tattered suit up off the floor. She made her way over to the bathroom, but stopped just before she entered. She chewed her lip, then turned and gave him a small smile.

"Thanks for, uh, patching me up."

He grinned.

"No problem, beautiful."

The bathroom door closed. Then, she poked her head back out, deadly serious in both tone and expression.

"Oh, and Wally?"


"Nobody knows about this but us, or I'll shove an arrow so far up your ass-"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up and put your clothes on."