Chapter Text
Mount Justice's beach looked like a scene from a particularly bizarre dream. Two large tables had been pushed together on the sand, covered with mismatched tablecloths and an eclectic array of serving dishes. A large grill stood nearby, where Superboy was arranging charcoal with the intensity of a surgeon performing a delicate operation.
The Young Justice team had arrived early to set up, all of them still slightly stunned that they were actually going through with this plan. Kaldur had been the hardest to convince, but eventually relented when M'gann pointed out that keeping villains occupied with dinner was technically a form of crime prevention.
"I still think we should have consulted Batman." Kaldur said, arranging plates around the table.
"And have him shut it down immediately?" Robin replied. "Where's the fun in that?"
"Fun is not our primary objective as heroes." Kaldur reminded him.
"Speak for yourself." Wally said, already munching on chips. "Some of us are in it for the cool costumes and the rush."
"And the opportunity to host dinner parties for our enemies, apparently." Artemis added dryly.
M'gann was nervously checking and rechecking her potato salad. "Do you think they'll actually come?"
"Hard to say." Zatanna replied. "It's a pretty weird situation."
"This whole week has been weird." Conner pointed out, still focused on his grill setup. "What's one more strange event?"
As if on cue, a series of figures appeared on the path leading down to the beach. The villains had arrived, looking distinctly uncomfortable in the heroes' headquarters but carrying various dishes and ingredients.
"I cannot believe we are doing this." Psimon muttered to Devastation as they approached the tables. "This violates every supervillain protocol in existence."
"Lighten up, baby." Devastation replied cheerfully. She was carrying a large pot containing partially prepared stew ingredients and looked more excited than anyone had ever seen her. "It's going to be fun!"
Behind them, the Terror Twins were carrying bags of groceries and looking around curiously. Shimmer and Icicle Jr. followed, walking suspiciously close to each other.
"Nice beach." Tommy commented as they reached the tables. "Y'all have this all to yourselves?"
"Pretty much." Robin replied. "One of the perks of being backed by Batman."
"Fancy." Tuppence said, clearly impressed despite herself.
Kaldur stepped forward, ever the diplomat. "Welcome to Mount Justice. For the duration of this... gathering... we will observe a strict truce. No powers used aggressively, no discussing past battles or future plans, and—"
"No social media." several people finished for him.
"We got the memo." Shimmer said. "Can we just get to the food part? I'm starving."
"First, we cook." Devastation declared, setting down her pot. "Where can I set up?"
M'gann led her to a camp stove they'd set up near the grill. "We thought you might need this for your stew. It's pretty powerful for a portable model."
"Perfect." Devastation replied, looking genuinely pleased. "Thanks, Martian."
"M'gann." she corrected gently. "If we're having dinner together, you might as well use my name."
"M'gann." Devastation repeated, testing it out. "And I'm... well, most people just call me Devastation."
"Do you have another name?" M'gann asked curiously.
Devastation hesitated. "Devorah. But I haven't used it in a long time."
"It's pretty." M'gann said with a smile.
Nearby, Psimon was watching this exchange with a strange expression. He'd never known Devastation's real name either.
"Alright, baby, time to show off those telekinetic cutting skills." Devastation called to him. "These vegetables won't dice themselves."
"I am not your sous chef." Psimon protested, but he moved to help her anyway.
Meanwhile, Conner had finally deemed his charcoal arrangement satisfactory and was lighting the grill with a focused expression that suggested rocket science might be simpler.
"Need any help?" Icicle Jr. offered, approaching the grill. "I could get that lit in seconds."
"I got it." Conner replied tersely.
"Just saying, ice powers come with fire control too." Icicle Jr. persisted. "It's a temperature thing."
"I SAID I GOT IT." Conner repeated, more forcefully.
"Okay, okay, jeez." Icicle Jr. backed away. "Just trying to help."
Shimmer appeared at his side. "Let the clone do his BBQ thing. It's obviously important to him."
"I was just being nice." Icicle Jr. muttered.
"Nice is suspicious coming from us." Shimmer pointed out. "They're not used to it."
"Neither am I, coming from you." Icicle Jr. replied with a small smile.
Shimmer rolled her eyes but didn't move away from him.
As the evening progressed, the initial awkwardness began to dissipate – aided significantly by the delicious smells coming from both cooking stations. Devastation was in her element at the camp stove, directing Psimon with surprising authority as they prepared the Bialyan feast. Conner had finally got the grill going and was carefully arranging burgers, hot dogs, and chicken with a level of concentration usually reserved for defusing bombs.
The others had divided into groups to handle various preparations: Artemis and Zatanna were making a salad, Robin and Kaldur were setting up a drinks station, and the Terror Twins were... well, they were mostly sampling everything and being shooed away by whoever was cooking.
"Stop eating all the chips!" Wally complained when Tommy reached for the bowl again.
"That's rich coming from you." Artemis shot back. "You've gone through two bags already."
"Fast metabolism!" Wally defended.
"What's your excuse?" Artemis asked Tommy.
"I'm just plain hungry." Tommy replied with a grin.
As dinner preparations continued, something unexpected happened. The heroes and villains began to talk – not about battles or powers or world domination, but about normal things. Music preferences, movies they'd seen, places they'd visited. It turned out that despite their differences, they had more in common than any of them had expected.
"Wait, you like Galaxy Wars too?" Robin asked Icicle Jr. in surprise.
"Are you kidding? I've seen every movie like twenty times." Icicle Jr. replied enthusiastically. "Even the prequels."
"Especially the prequels." Robin corrected with a grin.
"The prequels are trash and you both know it." Artemis called out from the salad station.
"Blasphemy!" both boys exclaimed in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.
Meanwhile, Devastation was showing M'gann how to properly toast spices. "The key is to heat them just until they become fragrant, but before they burn." she explained. "It releases the essential oils and enhances the flavor."
"That's fascinating." M'gann replied sincerely. "On Mars, we don't really cook. Most of our food is consumed telepathically."
"How does that even work?" Devastation asked, genuinely curious.
As M'gann launched into an explanation of Martian food consumption practices, Psimon found himself actually listening with interest. He'd never bothered to learn about Martian culture beyond what was useful for battle.
"The food is synthesized using psychic energy?" he clarified when M'gann finished. "That's actually quite sophisticated. I had assumed your species simply consumed nutritional paste or something equally primitive."
"Careful, Psimon." Devastation teased. "That almost sounded like respect for a hero."
"It was scientific curiosity, nothing more." Psimon replied stiffly, but without much conviction.
The sun was beginning to set over the ocean, casting a golden glow across the beach as the cooking neared completion. The combined smells of grilled meats and Bialyan spices created an intoxicating aroma that had everyone gathering around the tables in anticipation.
"Dinner is served!" Conner announced proudly, carrying a large platter of perfectly grilled meats to the table. His usual scowl had been replaced by a look of satisfaction as he surveyed his handiwork.
"And the Bialyan feast is ready as well." Devastation declared, bringing over the pot of fragrant stew, now complete with tender lamb, vegetables, and a rich, spiced sauce. Psimon followed with flatbreads he had warmed and the rice dish with almonds and raisins.
As everyone took their seats – heroes and villains intermixed in a way that would have been unthinkable a week ago – there was a moment of awkward silence. Who would speak first? Was there some protocol for a dinner party with your enemies?
"So." Wally finally said, "do we like, say grace or something?"
"To whom?" Psimon asked. "I doubt we all share the same theological beliefs, if any."
"How about a toast?" Robin suggested. "That's neutral enough."
Kaldur nodded and raised his glass. "To unexpected gatherings and the common ground of good food."
"And to truces that let us enjoy it without throwing it at each other." Artemis added with a smirk.
Everyone laughed and raised their glasses, the tension broken. Then they dug in, passing dishes back and forth across the table, exclaiming over flavors, and for a little while, forgetting they were supposed to be enemies.
"This stew is amazing." Robin declared after his first bite. "Devastation, you weren't kidding about being a chef."
"Told you." Devastation replied, looking pleased. "The key is the blend of spices and slow cooking."
"And the telekinetic vegetable cutting." Psimon added unexpectedly. "It ensures uniformity of size for even cooking."
Devastation beamed at him. "See? Perfect sous chef material."
"The burgers are great too, Conner." M'gann said, smiling at him. "Worth all that charcoal arranging."
Conner looked inordinately proud. "Thanks. It's all about the heat distribution."
"I still could have helped with that." Icicle Jr. muttered, but he was smiling as he said it.
As the meal progressed, the conversation flowed as freely as the lemonade and soda. Stories were shared, jokes were told, and for a brief time, they were just young people enjoying a beachside dinner together.
"So there I was." Tommy was saying, gesturing with a chicken leg, "stuck in this air duct with the security guards right below me, and I sneeze. Not just any sneeze – we're talking a full-on, earth-shaking, super-strength sneeze that bent the metal!"
"What did you do?" Zatanna asked, caught up in the story despite herself.
"Only thing I could do." Tommy replied with a grin. "I yelled 'Gesundheit!' from above, and when they looked up, I said, 'Don't mind me, just your friendly neighborhood air duct inspector!'"
The table erupted in laughter, even Kaldur chuckling despite his usual reserve.
"Did they buy it?" Robin asked incredulously.
"Not for a second." Tuppence answered for her brother. "I had to bust through a wall to get him out before they filled the duct with knock-out gas."
"Siblings to the rescue." Artemis said, raising her glass to Tuppence, who returned the gesture with a surprised smile.
As dinner wound down and dessert was brought out – ice cream courtesy of Icicle Jr.'s powers and cookies M'gann had baked (which were surprisingly good) – Psimon found himself in conversation with M'gann and Zatanna about the nature of psychic versus magical powers.
"The fundamental difference." he was explaining, "is that psychic abilities manipulate existing mental constructs, whereas magic alters the fabric of reality itself."
"But both require tremendous focus and visualization." Zatanna pointed out. "The methodology is different, but the mental discipline is similar."
"Precisely." Psimon agreed. "Which is why individuals with aptitude for one often have potential for the other, though few develop both."
"That's fascinating." M'gann said. "On Mars, we don't distinguish between psychic abilities and what Earth would call 'magic' – it's all considered part of the same mental spectrum."
"Your species has a more integrated understanding than humans." Psimon observed. "It's actually quite advanced."
"Okay, who are you and what have you done with Psimon?" Devastation interrupted, sitting down beside him with a bowl of ice cream. "You're having a civil conversation about powers with heroes."
"It's an intellectual discussion." Psimon replied defensively. "Knowledge is valuable regardless of its source."
"Uh-huh." Devastation said skeptically. "And it has nothing to do with you actually enjoying yourself?"
Psimon opened his mouth to deny it, then closed it again. "Perhaps." he finally admitted quietly, "this evening has been less intolerable than anticipated."
"High praise from you, baby." Devastation said with a smile, boldly taking his hand under the table.
To everyone's surprise, including his own, Psimon didn't pull away.
As the stars came out over the ocean and the evening grew cooler, someone (later, no one could quite remember who) suggested a bonfire. Soon, a cheerful blaze was crackling on the beach, with heroes and villains gathered around it, sharing more stories and even a few marshmallows for roasting.
"This is nice." M'gann said softly, looking around the fire at the unusual gathering. "Different, but nice."
"It can't last." Kaldur replied, equally quiet. "Tomorrow we return to our separate paths."
"But maybe those paths don't have to cross in conflict quite so often." M'gann suggested hopefully.
"Dream on, greenie." Shimmer interjected, having overheard. "We're still villains. It's what we do."
"Is it, though?" M'gann asked. "Or is it just what you've been doing? Devastation was a chef before. Maybe there are other paths for all of you."
There was an uncomfortable silence around the fire. The question hung in the air, challenging assumptions that none of the villains were quite ready to examine.
"Let's not ruin a good meal with recruitment pitches." Psimon finally said. "We agreed: no hero-villain conversion speeches."
"Fair enough." M'gann conceded. "But the offer stands, if any of you ever want to talk about... alternatives."
"Noted." Devastation replied, more gently than anyone would have expected. "But for now, let's just enjoy the fire and the stars, yeah?"
Agreement rippled around the circle, and the moment of tension passed. But something had shifted, however subtly. A seed had been planted, a possibility introduced that hadn't existed before their strange series of fast food encounters.
As the fire began to die down and yawns became more frequent, it was clear the evening was coming to an end. The villains helped pack up the cooking equipment and leftover food, which was divided equally between the two groups.
"So." Robin said as they finished cleaning up, "same time next week at Burger King?"
"Don't push your luck, Boy Wonder." Psimon replied, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
"You have to admit." Devastation said as the villains prepared to leave, "this was better than fighting."
"Less property damage, certainly." Kaldur agreed with a small smile.
"And better food." Conner added. "Though I still maintain BBQ is superior to fast food."
"On that, Superboy, we can finally agree." Psimon said, much to everyone's surprise.
As the villains gathered their things and prepared to depart, there was an awkward moment where no one quite knew how to say goodbye. They weren't friends, exactly, but after sharing a meal and conversation around a fire, they weren't quite the same enemies they had been before.
"Well." Kaldur finally said, "travel safely."
"And maybe we'll see you around." M'gann added. "You know, not in battle."
"Perhaps." Psimon replied noncommittally. "Though I wouldn't count on it."
But as the villains turned to leave, Devastation suddenly turned back. "Thank you." she said simply. "For the dinner, the conversation, all of it. It was... nice to feel normal for an evening."
The heroes seemed taken aback by her sincerity.
"You're welcome." M'gann replied warmly. "And thank you for teaching me about Bialyan cooking."
With final nods and awkward waves, the villains departed, leaving the Young Justice team standing on the beach, watching them go with mixed emotions.
"That was surreal." Artemis said once they were out of earshot.
"But kind of awesome." Wally added. "Who knew villains could be... you know, people?"
"Everyone is a person, Wally." M'gann pointed out. "Even our enemies."
"I know, I know." Wally replied. "It's just easy to forget sometimes when they're trying to take over the world or kill us."
"Well, tonight they weren't." Robin said. "And it was actually pretty cool."
"Do you think anything will change?" Zatanna asked. "Because of this?"
Kaldur considered the question seriously. "Perhaps not in the large ways – they are still committed to their path as we are to ours. But in small ways? Yes, I think something has changed."
As they headed back to the mountain, each lost in their own thoughts about the evening, none of them noticed the dark figure watching from the cliffs above the beach.
Batman had seen everything. And contrary to what the team might have expected, he wasn't angry. He was thoughtful.
Because sometimes, the most effective way to change the world wasn't through battles, but through understanding. And tonight, a small group of young heroes and villains had understood each other a little better than before.
It wasn't world peace. It wasn't even a guarantee that their next meeting wouldn't be in combat. But it was a start.
And sometimes, that was enough.