Okay, it was just plain wrong of him, but ...<br/><br/>In some ways, you could almost say she brought it on herself.  After disarming a whole platoon of grimy villians, J.D. had paused in front of Voltaje with a mountain of seized weaponry in his arms, and he could've sworn she'd given him an approving look.  Like, even with all her own amazing abilities, she'd probably never seen a speedster in action, or at least, not one like him.  He figured she had to be impressed, right?  Who wouldn't be?<br/><br/>Heck, Happy was a little impressed with himself, that he'd disarmed and dispatched so many mercenaries without tripping on anything or breaking any of their arms, or breaking anything on himself, for that matter.  Those were still very real risks for the fledgling hero.  He hadn't been hero-ing long enough to become inured to either the wonder or the danger of his powers, especially since he had a long way to go before he mastered their control.<br/><br/>But anyway, after he'd kicked some serious rent-a-thug ass (and more importantly, cheered himself up by getting some payback for that poor guy's death, before), he was pretty much on cloud nine already.<br/><br/>And then she had to go and do that little --<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">After the man in front of her goes down and it seems that all of the other men have been taken out she smiles, placing her hands on her shapely hips.  "Good job, Happy."</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>Now, first of all, she hadn't really shined her pearly whites at him until just that moment; before, it was their Amazon leader who seemed to garner most of her smiles -- and<em>what</em>a smile .........<br/><br/>Secondly, she got his name right, the very first time!  He'd been regretting his choice of moniker for some time now, because it didn't exactly flow off the tongue:  "Happy Trails" -- it was even in plural, it just didn't sound right, and he was having a hard time convincing everyone on the team and in the media to use the shortened form.  But the Latin Lovely got it right without even being told ...<br/><br/>Finally, that little pose she struck was the last straw:  she kinda let her hands waft down and come to a rest just at the top of that tight little shelf, where it started to curve out, and then just kept curving, and curving, and --<br/><br/>But, no matter how he looked at it, he knew it was just not an okay thing to do, for anybody, much less a budding super-dude.  Still, it wasn't like he was the one that started it.<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">And then...there's a hand on her bubble butt.  Her eyes go wide for a second as someone as the balls to squeeze just a second before she swats it away.  She half turns trying to find the guy, almost certainly, that had done as much then feels someone else take a grab. "Párelo!" Stop it!  in Spanish.  She swats the next hand away then the next.  Then the others get there before anyone gets any good ideas about anything else.  She narrows her eyes at the crowd, but a large part of them don't even realize that someone, or several someone's decided it'd be fun to cop a feel while they're this close to the famous Colombian superheroine.  </blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>It's just, how could he resist a chance like that?  All he had to do was slip around a couple other horndogs and sneak his hand in right after one of them, and right before another.  It wasn't hardly even a full grab, he just kinda pressed his hand in there and cupped a palmful of UNBELIEVABLY HOT BOOTY for, like, a fraction of split-second.<br/><br/>Sure, he could have done the chivalrous thing and pushed the other gropers away, instead; he could have, he<em>should</em>have, but he only thought of that once he'd started feeling guilty, and that emotion took several seconds before it really showed up -- which was practically forever, in speedster terms.  The first emotion that hit him, as soon as he realized some cheeky customers in the crowd had decided to squeeze the Charmin ... well, he got as worked up as they did over the prospect of copping a feel.  He was still a regular teenager, after all, in the ways that counted.  He just had some extra talents that meant he wouldn't get caught being such a perv.<br/><br/>At least, he thought he wouldn't get caught.  The truth was, like everything else on this adventure, Voltaje was still largely an unknown quantity.  For all that Happy knew, she could have super-senses capable of following his lightning-fast moves, or even an electrified ass that could've killed him on contact.  But he had to admit, at that moment, he couldn't think of any nicer way to go ....<br/><br/>He seemed to have gotten away with it.  At least, it seemed that way at first.  Voltaje started saying something to Oscar in Spanish, and she sounded a bit unsettled, but didn't direct any special attention J.D.'s way.  Could Athena have noticed? or Oscar, for that matter?<br/><br/>For the moment, the fighting was through, and his uniform was stifling in that climate, but he was afraid to pull off his mask, in case his face had turned red without him realizing.  Instead, the teen tried to loiter inconspicuously in the background, hovering a few feet away from the others.  While the rest of Freedom Force talked, their junior member was awash in alternating waves of embarrassment, self-consciousness, and awful guilt ... but underneath all of those, there was no denying he was on a hopped-up hormone high.<em>'Ay! Mamacita! ...'</em>