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Wally drops his corner of the couch almost as soon as they're through the front door of his new apartment building, shaking out cramping fingers and only realising how close he came to dropping it right on Roy's toes when Roy shouts, "Hey, watch it!" next to him. He turns as Roy strains under the extra weight, biceps flexing for a few more seconds before his corner hits the floor with a thunk as well.
"Sorry," Wally says, moving from fingers up to his aching shoulder with a wince. "I think I underestimated how heavy it would be."
"It's heavy?" Donna says at the other end of the couch, grinning wide around the straw of her smoothie cup as she easily holds her end aloft with one hand. "And here I thought you two were just being slackers."
"I only dropped it because he did," Roy says, jerking a thumb in Wally's direction, brows drawn in a scowl.
Wally shrugs. "Well, I dropped it because I'm a total weakling." He hops onto the lowered end of the couch shooting a grin in Donna's direction when she huffs and adjusts her grip to counter the extra weight. "I mean, look at these noodle arms." He flops over backwards, waving his arms to emphasise his point. "I'm built for speed, not strength."
"Sounds to me like you're looking for some extra training sessions," Donna says.
"Nope." Wally tips his head so he can narrow his eyes in her direction. "Did you not just hear me say 'speed, not strength'."
At which point Donna drops her end of the couch, sending Wally sprawling across the cushions and barely keeping from falling off entirely. She hides her laughter in the remains of her smoothie, snickers bubbling free as Wally settles back against the couch.
"Great reflexes, speed, not strength," Roy says, bracing against the back of the seat.
"Well, I'm still doing better than you," Wally bites back. A mistake, because Roy's in range of swatting him over the head and Wally can't duck out of the way when he's already lying down.
"Why did you ask for my help then?"
"Figured I might need brains and brawn for this one."
"So, I'm brawn?" Donna says, hopping onto the arm of the couch across from Wally and kicking him lightly—and probably scuffing dirt all over the cushions from the bottom of her boots. Wally's not stupid enough to complain.
"Yep."
"And Roy's brains?"
"Uh-huh."
"Dick wasn't available, then?"
Wally stares at Donna as she finishes her smoothie with a loud slurp. "No comment," he says after a long moment. Roy swats him across the head again and Donna bursts into more laughter.
She leans an arm against the back of the couch and peers up the stairs of the apartment block with a thoughtful noise, chewing on the straw of her smoothie even though the cup is definitely empty by now. "I don't think this is getting up those stairs," she says. "What do you think, brains?"
Roy folds his arms across his chest. "Oh, I know it's not going to fit." He kicks the end of the couch, jostling Wally. "Would have thought Mr. I-performed-a-genius-science-experiment-on-myself-at-thirteen might have figured that out."
"Please, Mr. I-performed-a-genius-science-experiment-on-myself-at-thirteen was my father, call me Wally," Wally says, grinning before sitting up to look at the staircase alongside Donna. "I think I underestimated how large it would be too."
"You got a balcony in your fancy new place?" Roy asks. "I'm sure Wonder Chick here could fly it up three stories."
"Only if you don't call me Wonder Chick," Donna says, throwing her cup at Roy. He catches it with an easy grin and drops it on Wally's chest instead, not even looking as it bounces onto the floor.
"There's a window." Wally wrinkles his nose and holds his hands at either side of his chest. "It's about this wide."
"Helpful," Roy says. Wally aims a light punch at his stomach and only narrowly avoids falling into a slap-fight because Donna clears her throat pointedly.
"Think we could take it apart?" she asks, pulling cushions off of the couch and then Wally when he fails to get up quick enough.
He just about manages to get his feet under himself before she drops him and staggers slightly at his new upright position before bending to inspect the couch alongside her. "I don't know," he says. "Roy? You're the demolition expert."
"Yeah, but normally the things I take apart don't have to go back together again." Roy smirks. "Of course, that might be what you're going for here."
"Hey!" Wally straightens up so he can direct his glare right at Roy's face. "What's wrong with my couch?"
"The 1960's called, even they don't want this back."
Wally looks at his couch, head tilting as he takes in the brown and orange floral pattern crawling over the cushions. "It's not that bad, right?"
Donna makes a thoughtful sound. "It is... a bold choice."
Wally gasps, clutching a hand to his chest. "Et tu, Donna?" He shakes his head. "Maybe I'm just a bold guy. Besides, it was Aunt I's old couch, so it's free."
"Isn't this place being bankrolled by a billionaire?" Roy asks.
"Technically Dick's not—" Wally gets cut off before he can finish.
"I'm just saying you could probably spring for a fancy IKEA couch with a name you can't pronounce."
Dick would probably cover for some furniture, if Wally asked, had signed the lease on the apartment without even needing to be. But Wally's not going to ask him. Maybe he's stubborn in his determination to do as much of this on his own as possible—an extra pair of hands notwithstanding—or maybe he just thinks the money can be put to better use being a hero. He huffs. "This is far more comfortable than IKEA," he says with more than a little scorn. "Here."
He rearranges the cushions that Donna had removed and drops into the couch, sinking into the seat with a sigh and patting the spaces on either side of himself. Donna sits immediately with a sigh of her own and—with a shake of his head—Roy takes the other side.
"Alright," he admits. "This is better than the couch at my place."
"Ha! I told you—"
"It's still not going to fit up the stairs though."
Wally drops his head against the seatback, squinting at the stairwell as though it would have somehow changed shape, but morphing the world to his will still seems to be outside his power set. "Maybe I'll just move the rest of my stuff down here," he says, "and live in the lobby."
"Maybe we should call in someone smarter," Donna suggests with a smirk. "Someone who hasn't almost blown up the tower with their experiments."
"Good luck with that," Wally mutters. The lab in the Titans Tower had extra reinforcement for a reason, and he was definitely not the worst culprit. As much as he might hate to admit it, neither was Roy.
"More brains won't make the stairs any bigger. Someone call Raven," Roy says.
Wally glares at him. "No magic. I don't trust it."
Roy snorts, but doesn't press the argument. Donna makes a thoughtful sound at Wally's other side. "Maybe we can't make the stairs bigger but we might be able to make the couch smaller. If someone has Atom's number."
"Are we really admitting defeat?" Wally asks.
"Yep." Roy swings his feet up onto the couch, kicking Wally in the side as he settles in. "You call Atom. I'm ordering pizza."