*sighs* Alllll Smitty's fault.

It began with Smittywing. In brief, it's a series of stories based on a 
what if: "What if Smitty woke up in Nightwing's body?" How and 
why? Irrelevant.  Silly, fun stuff. So I finally read these fics. Giggled 
myself silly. Was talking to Smitty when she said....

> Oh my...see, now I have the urge to do a run of "'verse" 
Smittywings...Hornetverse, S&S-verse, Fluxverse, Guinnessverse.... 

*SIGH*

So...this is Smittywing. In the S&S universe, NOT part of the regular 
Smittywing saga. NOT part of the S&S series. Standalone and 
pointless, then. *g*  M/M implied, all that jazz.

Cripes. I even know when it's set. During the first couple of weeks, 
before Dick's meltdown and Garth was still just visiting 'Haven 
occasionally. But he has a key.

Somebody STOP me.



Smittywing swung in through the back window of Dick Grayson's 
apartment. She stretched hugely, then yawned, feeling both exhausted 
and terribly pleased with herself. She'd taken a crack at the "patrolling" 
thing, and it wasn't that hard! Kinda fun, actually. She'd stopped one 
robbery-in-progress, chased off a couple of would-be car thieves, and 
scared the wits of a second-story burglar when she'd hung upside-down 
on a jumpline and snapped her fingers in his face. He'd leapt off the 
balcony and fled down the street, shrieking. The memory made her 
giggle, which still sounded sexy coming out of Dick's larynx. Being in 
this body definitely had its--

Without warning, she was enveloped from behind by strong arms. "Had 
a good time?" an oddly accented voice inquired softly, and teeth started 
to nibble gently on her ear.

"Uh... It was...fine...." she stuttered, too overcome by the wash of 
sensation to protest. Almost involuntarily she arched back, leaning into 
that touch.

As abruptly as they'd appeared, those arms were gone. Confused, she 
turned around. He was wearing civvies, but she'd recognize this guy 
anywhere. Short dark curly hair, really broad chest, and most tellingly, 
*purple* irises and the parallel tattoo-scars that curved down over his 
right eye. Eyes that--

For just an instant, they seemed to flash violet. She hadn't really seen 
that, had she?! 

"You're not Nightwing," Tempest said, his hands beginning to glow 
ever-so-faintly. 

Oh, crap. "Uh-- Tempest, Garth, can I call you Garth?, I can explain!" 
she said frantically, grateful that he was the rare 'ask questions first and 
THEN shoot' kind of superhero. "Dick's fine, I'm just borrowing his 
body. I'm Smittywing!"

Garth looked unimpressed. He also didn't lower his hands. "Where is 
he?" 

Earlier, Dick had muttered something about needing to get *out* of 
here, and gone for a walk. He'd taken along the cell phone he'd insisted 
they both carry at all times. Well, she couldn't blame him for wanting 
to know where his body was at any given moment. "He's out, let me 
call him, okay?"

Garth nodded to the phone on the small table near the door. "Go 
ahead."

She dialed, hand shaking a little. So Garth and Dick really were...? Her 
own voice answered at the second ring. "Yeah?"

"You'd better get back here. We have a, um, visitor." 

***

Garth had let her grab some clothes and change out of costume--sweaty 
kevlar, yuck. When she came out of the bathroom he looked at her and 
shook his head. "Assuming for the moment that you're telling the 
truth...how did this happen? And who are you?"

She looked back, curious. ""How did you know, anyway?"

"You sounded different. You *smelled* different." A ghost of a smile 
crossed his lips. "And your--Nightwing's aura has changed 
completely."

"Oh. That makes sense." Magic, what were you gonna do. "Well, it all 
started when I woke up in this apartment, a couple of days ago...."

***

About twenty minutes later they heard keys jangling at the lock on the 
front door. Dick came in, looking irritated. "So who's--Garth!"

This time Smittywing caught the brief flash from his eyes and knew she 
hadn't imagined it. Garth sighed.

"Robbie, what have you done to yourself now?"

Smitty watched as Garth crossed the room to touch Dick's--her body's--
cheek. She continued to watch, fascinated, while that light touch 
became a caress, a close embrace, a desperate kiss....

"Hey!" she squeaked. "That's my body you're squishing, let it breathe!"

They stepped apart without haste. Dick looked smug. "Nice to know 
*some* things haven't changed."

Smittywing cleared her throat, distracted by visions of Garth...and 
Dick...and oh, boy. "Uh, I told Garth about waking up you."

"So you have no idea what caused this?" Garth asked, looking down at 
Dick's current--very short--body. Which must be really weird for him, 
Smitty thought, because Nightwing's body was the same height as he 
was. They probably...lined up real well. Oh, *that* idea wasn't helping.

"None." Dick sighed. "I'd hoped for awhile it was only one of the Mad 
Hatter's nightmares, or that I'd gotten a lungful of Scarecrow fear-
toxin...."

"Hey!" Smitty protested.

Dick shrugged only half-apologetically, then looked hopefully at Garth. 
"Can you do something, a spell maybe? Change us back?"

Garth shook his head. "That kind of thing is far beyond my training. 
But I can talk it over with Atlan, maybe he'd have an idea."

"Damn." Dick pouted. Garth rubbed his back soothingly. Smitty 
watched, hypnotized. 

***

[Smitty]  Whenever I get stuck in Smittywing, I just make the 
characters eat.
['rith]  LOL!!
[Smitty]  I do...look at how many food references there are.
[Smitty]  Smittywing's all about, um, "winging it."
['rith]  Genius.

***

So they went to dinner. And that was very weird, because Smitty 
watched Garth look at her body with deep affection and--yes, love. It 
was just too damn bad Garth had realized she wasn't Nightwing so fast. 
Coulda been...fun.

She shook her head to clear those images. "So, um...hey, guys!" 
Smittywing snapped her fingers at them. "A girl doesn't like to be 
ignored, ya know."

Garth looked like he was suppressing a laugh. Dick sighed. "I hate it 
when my body says stuff like that. WHAT, Smitty?"

"Just, uh, Garth, d'you really think Atlan can figure this out? Not that 
I'm not having a blast in Dick's bod, but I'm not sure I want to be in 
here the next time Nightwing gets kidnapped, or tortured, or has to 
participate in one of those huge DCU crises...." She waved a hand at 
their confused looks. "Nevermind. You know, the next attack of the 
super-villains or whatever. 

"Besides," she added, eyeing them, "I get the feeling this sitch is, uh, 
sorta putting a cramp in your plans, too."

"You could say that," Dick said sourly. 

Garth spoke up before Smittywing could respond. Ah, diplomatic 
instincts.  "I really don't know, Smitty. I'll try to contact him tonight. If 
nothing else, he can probably tell us if it's a magical effect or not."

"What else could it be?" Smittywing asked, genuinely curious, then 
snapped, "Put down that eggroll, Grayson, you don't need that fried 
crap. At least, MY hips don't."

Dick smiled sweetly, took a large bite out of one end, then dropped it. 
She retaliated by stuffing a fried wonton liberally covered in gooey 
sweet-and-sour sauce into her mouth. They glared at each other across 
the table until Garth waved a white napkin between them. 

"Do I need to separate you two?"

"Sorry," they both muttered, and Dick sighed. 

"I can't help it. This is all just so--wrong."

"Probably just hormones," Smitty offered helpfully, and ducked the 
Look of Death[tm] that came winging over the table at her. Sheesh, she 
thought to herself, *bitch-y!*

"I suggest," Garth said, signaling for the check, "we call Atlan and try 
to get this sorted out as soon as possible."

"Good plan," Dick agreed, and reached for the eggroll again.

***

Back at the apartment, Garth filled the sink with water and stared into 
it, eyes glowing steadily violet.

The water seemed to swirl in the basin. A mist began to rise off of it; 
Garth moved back, obviously surprised. He didn't seem alarmed, 
though, so they watched as the vapors filled the room.

When it cleared, another man stood there.

Whoa, Smittywing thought, what a *babe.*

Tall and blond and built, he glanced at them all with an amused eye. 
"Please state the nature of your magical emergency."

Smitty snickered. Garth rolled his eyes. "If you have to monitor surface 
programming, can't you do better than *that?*  ...Atlan, we DO have a 
problem." He indicated Smittywing. "This is--"

Atlan replied with a definite smirk. "I know who he is." He looked 
Smittywing up and down, appraising. She couldn't help it; she grinned. 
"Don't you think I'd have kept an eye on my apprentice? A 
very...watchful eye."

"Pervert," Dick muttered, glaring.

Garth looked shocked, then set his jaw. "I'll thank you not to spy on me 
any more, then. And you're mistaken. *That* isn't Nightwing."

Atlan turned, surprised. "But I've seen--"

"Too much, I'm sure. But no; *Look.*"

The mage frowned, then looked at Smittywing again. His eyes (which 
didn't flash like Garth's had, she noted) widened and he turned to stare 
at Dick. "Their auras don't fit those bodies."

"Good of you to notice." Dick sounded about at the end of his rope. 
"I'm her. She's me. Can you fix this?!"

"How fascinating." Atlan looked delighted. "A genuine mystery. Tell 
me *everything.*"

Smitty looked at Dick. "Your turn."

***

One hasty explanation later, Atlan was nodding thoughtfully. "And no 
forewarning, you say. Well, let's take a look." He gestured broadly 
(Smitty saw Garth roll his eyes again at the drama) and both Smitty and 
Dick were enveloped in blue light.

"Mmmm-hmm. Interesting." He walked around them like a shark 
circling. "Yes, I see. Complete transfer. I can tell you it's not magical, 
at any rate."

"What else would it be?" Smittywing asked, ogling him in return. 
Definite eye-candy. And those were some *tight* pants.... With 
difficulty she dragged her attention back to hear his answer.

"Psychic transference, perhaps...something technological, even, but 
that's out of my area of expertise."

"*Damn,*" Garth swore emphatically, and the other three turned to 
look at him in surprise. 

He shrugged ruefully. "Dick isn't the only one whose plans were 
disrupted by this...event, you know."

There was a beat as both Dick and Smittywing thought about that. For 
the first time since they'd woken up in each other's bodies, they shared 
a look of total agreement. Garth looked alarmed. 

"Whatever you're thinking--*NO.*" 

They both pouted. Atlan giggled, then remembered he was an ancient, 
immortal, supposedly *dignified* mage, and stopped. "Yes, well. I'm 
sorry I can't be more helpful. In this, at least. Is there anything else...?" 
He managed to make it sound like more provocative than any invitation 
had a right to be. 

Smittywing might have considered it, but saw Dick glaring at her 
through her own eyes and sighed. "Uh...I guess not. Thanks for trying, 
though."

"No trouble. Let me know how it all works out. Don't do anything I 
wouldn't-- oh, wait," Atlan said with a leer. "Never mind."

Dick snorted and was about to reply before Garth put a restraining hand 
on his arm. "Thank you, Atlan. I'll contact you when we have more 
information."

"Do that. And you should consider..." he looked the three of them over, 
smirking. "This is an unique opportunity to get a different perspective, 
and suchlike. You'd be surprised at what you might learn. Don't waste 
it." With a last grin he made an arcane gesture, there was a muted flash 
of blue light, and he was gone.

"You know," Smittywing said hesitantly after a moment, "he sort of 
had a point...." She trailed off, seeing Dick scowl. She felt her face 
(Dick's face!) starting to turn red with embarrassment. Which only 
pissed her off. "Sue me for being a little intrigued, okay? You had the 
same thought a minute ago, so don't get all prudish on me, Grayson."

For a moment she thought Dick was going to explode, and then her 
body heaved a huge sigh. "Yeah, okay. Like you said--unfamiliar 
hormones. I've been going up and down like a yo-yo." Dick grinned a 
little, looking up at Garth. "And I haven't gone without sex this long in-
- awhile."

Smittywing let out an exasperated sigh. "Like that's the worst problem 
we've got. I swear, I thought the whole 'Dick Grayson-sex addict' was 
just a fanfic thing, but *man*...."

Dick glanced at her sharply. "There's fiction about me? What *kind* of 
fiction?!"

"Uh." Smittywing gulped nervously. "All kinds. Mostly action-type 
stuff. You know, the 'Nightwing, Guardian of Bludhaven' type of 
thing."

"Uh-huh. What *else.*" Dick clearly wasn't buying it. 

Dammit, Smittywing thought, that's what happens when you switch 
bodies with a detective. "Well..." she fidgeted. "Erotica. Quite a bit of 
that. Hence the sex-addict thing."

Dick stared at her, obviously outraged, but Garth looked like he was 
trying not to laugh out loud. Smittywing couldn't resist. "C'mon, that 
shouldn't be any surprise. It's a well-known fact that you've got the best 
ass in the DCU-- I mean, of any super-hero." She giggled. "And now 
that I've seen it in person, I *know* that's true."

Garth held out for another moment, then collapsed onto the couch, 
laughing helplessly. "She's...got you there, Robbie."