Categories > Cartoons > Class of the Titans

Saturday Night

by Olympias 6 reviews

A/A. An odd Saturday Night at the Hero's Dorm. Short, sweet, and cheesy too :P One Shot.

Category: Class of the Titans - Rating: G - Genres: Romance - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2006-07-14 - Updated: 2006-07-14 - 2197 words

Saturday Night Saturday Night
A Class of the Titans Fanfiction
Written by Olympias

Disclaimer: Class of the Titans and all related characters and storylines are a property of Studio B Productions and Nelvana. This is a fan-created story and in no way meant to be an infringement on copyright, and is merely an expression of enjoyment and thorough appreciation of this animated series.

A/N: This was written out of whim on the basis of one of the most tiresome of fan-fiction conventions. Tiresome, but nonetheless necessary and enjoyable. This is for all the Archie/Atlanta fans out there.
And since I feel inclined to be educational, a good soundtrack to this story is by a great band from the 70's called Cheaptrick, and the song is I want you to love me. Check it out when you get the chance.


I want you to want me.
I need you to need me.
I'd love you to love me.
I'm begging you to beg me.

- Cheap Trick, I Want You to Love Me


The prospect of sleep was never repulsive to Atlanta.

Usually, as soon as her head hit the pillow, the Sand Man recognized this as his cue and promptly sent the young teen off into dream land, first class. Visions of woodlands and wildlife populated her subconscious, with the occasional hot fudge sundae or first place trophy; sometimes she'd wander through a maze that turned out to be New Olympia's largest shopping mall, or claim victory after single-handedly slaying a dragon.

Truly, whatever dreams assaulted her psyche, Atlanta was prepared for.

But not this.

Definitely not this.

For what seemed like the hundredth time tonight, Atlanta sat bolt upright in her bed, gasping for breath. Not surprisingly either--considering her dream-self had blocked off all air supply in the throes of the passionate lip-lock she had shared with dream-Archie.

Archie? Again. /Atlanta face-palmed. /This is not only a new development, it's becoming a trend.

This was what, the fifth dream in a row?

Tossing her covers away and shifting her legs so they dangled over the side of the mattress, Atlanta decided that perhaps this called for a glass of water.

"And this is why they tell you not to eat chocolate before bed," the huntress mumbled to herself. "Because apparently, the sugar goes to your brain and casts you and your best friend in its very own Harlequin romance."

Or maybe it wasn't the sugar. Atlanta could already guess what Theresa was going to say tomorrow morning when she'd tell her about her nocturnal crush on Archie:

'Dreams are a reflection of the suppressed self. You probably have feelings for him and don't realize it yet.' There would be a pause, and Theresa would get that knowing look on her face, the shit-eating grin. 'You /like /Archie!"

And then Atlanta wouldn't be live it down, because everywhere she would go, that supposed 'fact' would be out there and Theresa would be watching her, smiling, nodding encouragingly whenever she'd be even inches away from her purple-headed object of alleged affections. It would be a mess. An absolute mess. Embarrassing too. And stupid.
Not telling Theresa, Atlanta determined. Not telling anyone.

And I am not going to worry, because I don't like---

So occupied was she with her internal musings, she failed to do two of many things. One, which was turn on the light in the hall as she made her way towards the common room, and two, watch where she was going.

Her nose and forehead collided with something material, but at the same time, incredibly rock hard. That 'something' than grunted in surprise, griping at Atlanta's shoulders with two steel fists, steadying her as she started backwards from the impact. Atlanta blinked, her vision blurred but still able to discern the apparent 'brick wall' as a torso belonging to a slightly taller 'someone.' Further investigation in the dim, hall-window light, revealed a pair of plaid, baby-blue boxers, a white t-shirt and the trademark spiky, purple, albeit a little disheveled, hair.

"Atlanta?" Archie's eyebrows were raised to the stratosphere, and there was water dripping down his chin. An empty, plastic cup rolled up next to her right toe and the whole scenario clicked into place.

"Oops, sorry Arch," Atlanta chuckled nervously, and bent down to retrieve the container. "I'm a little groggy, didn't see ya."

Blushing. Why was she blushing?

"For a second I thought you were sleep walking or something."

"Nah," she handed him back his cup. "Sorry I ruined your nightcap."

"Jus' water." He shrugged, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe at his face. Unwittingly, Atlanta's eyes swept downward to take in the sight of her friend's impressive abdominal musculature, before coming up again to look him eye to eye again.

He didn't seem to notice that his best friend had just checked him out.

Note to self, /Atlanta swallowed nervously, seek psychiatric care./

"So what are you doing up? Can't sleep?"

"I guess you can say that."

"Me neither," Archie agreed, looking somewhat satisfied. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, motioning towards the common room. "Want to check out some late night infomercials?"


Maybe spending time with Archie would remind her why in normal land she wasn't secretly harboring any romantic feelings for him; remind her that the normal Atlanta wouldn't suddenly wake up and decide that the loose sweater and skate shorts her friend usually wore did no justice to his fabulous male physique.

She shook her head in effort to let those thoughts fall out.

Archie ushered her into the common room with a mock bow and a 'milady,' switching on the light next to the couch with clap in a manner that Don Juan would envy. She laughed hesitantly at his antics, sinking uneasily into the couch.

"Drunk," she muttered under her breath. "I must be drunk."

Archie's eyes twinkled. "As fun as it would be playing flip-cup with you, Lannie, we're too young to drink. But I like the way you're thinking," he headed towards the kitchenette. "What's late night television without popcorn and some virgin drinks?"

Atlanta's head was spinning at an alarming pace at the moment.

He is your friend. BESTFRIEND!

There was some rummaging around in the kitchen. The soft hum of the microwave and the vague aroma of buttered corn overwhelmed Atlanta's senses. Slowly picking up the remote control, the red head hoped to assume the same mental control by channel surfing.

Nothing but a whole lot of 1-800 numbers, buxom blondes, and a dude trying to sell a blender on the shopping network. Some late night TV. Maybe she should just go to bed or else implode from the interior pressure of too many inappropriate thoughts about the boy in the same room.

Yet, something held her back. Was it the prospect of another hormonally charged dream or the absence of his company? Great, that line of thinking was exactly what she needed.

Archie emerged from the kitchen two minutes later with his arms full with a popcorn bowl and soda cans. He deposited them on the coffee table and then sat down next to Atlanta, so closely that his bare elbow brush up against her arm.

"Anything on?" he asked, scooping up a handful of popcorn. He offered Atlanta some and she gladly indulged.

"Nope, unless you wanna talk with a beautiful girl for ninety-nine cents a minute or buy a blender"

"Well, I don't want a blender and I can talk to you for free." He winked.

Atlanta colored to the roots of her hair, and immediately turned her face away. "Gee thanks," she managed to make her voice sound at least half-joking, "I'm glad you can settle."

There was a beat.

Archie looked amused. "On second thought, hand me the phone, I think I'll get that blender."

Atlanta thrashed him with a pillow. "Very funny, Archie," she scolded.

"Hey!" the older teen protested, laughing. "Watch the hair."

"You mean that purple furball on your head?" Atlanta wondered aloud, cheekily reaching over to ruffle Archie's previously proud, and now completely flattened Mohawk. She didn't even get a chance to give it a good tussle, because Archie's hand quickly found her wrist and seconds later, had her on her back while he sat on her knees like a big brother.

In that entire instant, Atlanta forgot to breathe, forgot that she could even move.

Archie's eyebrows shot up incredulously. "Did you just /let /me flip you?"

Atlanta opened up her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Suddenly, the only thing she was aware of was that his face was literally inches away from hers, and that her heart was hammering uncontrollably in her chest. What was happening to her?

And oh heavenly Zeus, now he was leaning in even closer.

"Who are you and what have you done to the real Atlanta?" his voice was convincingly suspicious.

If only I knew, Atlanta thought inwardly. "C'mon, Archie, I'm still groggy. Lay off, will ya?"

He wasn't relenting. "You didn't look so groggy when you were playing with my hair!"

Is that what she was doing? Oh God. That blush had now signed the real estate waiver and taken up permanent residence on her cheeks.

"You know," Archie continued his voice suddenly much lower and more serious. "I didn't believe it at first, but you've been so distracted that now I'm starting to believe it's true."

Her heart beat was at her throat. "What's true?" she gulped.

"You're totally crushing."

Atlanta's eyes widened. "N-n-no I'm not!"

Archie's mouth turned into a smug curl. "Oh yeah? I heard you talking in your sleep."

"Y-y-you did?"

" 'Oh Neil, you're sooo handsome!'" Archie mimicked. "'Oh Neil, you've been working out!'"

The red head's surprised expression turned into a very confused one, until finally she looked aghast. "Neil?" she repeated. "You think I have a crush on Neil?"

Now the warrior sat back puzzled, allowing his friend to get up from under him. "But I heard-"

"Wait!" Atlanta silenced him. "Did it sound something like that?"

She jerked her thumb in the direction of the bedrooms. A faint, slightly higher-pitch voice was coming from the first room in the hall, the room belonging to the descendant of Narcissus.

"Who's the hottest? Neil's the hottest! Mm! Ya baby! One-hundred and seventy pounds of handsome!"

Atlanta crossed her arms, staring Archie right in the eye. "Don't tell me you actually thought that was me?"

The purple-haired teen scratched the back of his head nervously. "I was groggy, ok?"

The huntress smiled. "Sure, you were."

"You had me scared for a sec, though," he admitted, getting back up onto the couch. "You've been kind of spacey tonight. Really dazed. Kind of acting like back when you had that thing for DJ Panic"

"Pan," Atlanta corrected. "And don't remind me."

"I have to confess, I was kind of... jealous back then."

The red head had to do a double-take on that one. "Jealous? You? Really?"

"Yeah, I kind of had this thing for you back then."

Atlanta was looking quizzically at him now, heart pounding away in her ears. "And now?"

"Now what?"

"Do you have a 'thing' for me now?"

Her eyes were searching his now, almost hopefully. She had a warm smile on her lips and her face was still the rosy glow from before. He couldn't figure out why it had been like that all night.


Archie flustered, Atlanta thought devilishly. Who would've guessed it? She was feeling strangely bold.

"Well, I uhm-uh you too," she said and before her mind had a chance to protest, she leaned in and...



Neil bolted up from under his covers, flailing about blindly as he still had his sleep mask on. After disposing himself of the thing, the next order of business was shutting off the incessant alarm and then relaxing, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"I really need to lay off the sugar before bedtime," he muttered. "Phew! What a weird dream."

A half hour shower later, the good-looking teen padded his way into the common room where he was promptly shushed by Theresa.

"Don't shush me," he told her sourly. "I hate it when people shush me. It's rude."

"Well then stay quiet," Theresa instructed him, "we need photographed evidence of this."


Theresa gestured in towards the living room area. Odie was creeping up slowly on his hands and knees behind the coffee table with his camera. Behind him, Herry and Jay were snickering. Letting his eyes drift further, Neil saw what the whole fuss was all about.

"Isn't it cute?" Theresa whispered.

"Actually, I'd say it's... kind of creepy." Neil whispered back.

"Creepy? Why creepy?"

"Nevermind. Let's just say I kind of saw this coming"


"Haha, maybe I'm just more psychic than you are."

"I doubt that."

Meanwhile, there on the couch were Archie with Atlanta dozing off on his shoulder, their arms wrapped sweetly around one another.

The End.


A/N: Incredibly short, and incredibly sweet, and incredibly... cheesy too. To all the A & A fans, this one's for you.

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