Disclaimer: Don't own it.


A/N: Wrote this over two years ago for the dccbatflash community on livejournal. Just a short, silly oneshot. Recently rediscovered it — decided to edit and post it here.


Original publish date: 6/21/10

Stealthiness

The shadowed edges of the evening extended past the winding path and over the forbidding gate. Far back, nestled among the greenery of the extravagant grounds, Wayne Manor sat coldly in the brisk night. Dawn was scant hours away, but the manor's inhabitants had only been asleep for less than an hour — such are the late working hours of a Bat.

A sharp breeze whipped against leaves from the many trees, creating a trail of green lilting lazily toward the damp earth below.

An invasive draft fluttered its way through a loose crevice of a patio door.

A cold shock struck up the stairs, prompting the heater to life.

A whispering wind shook through the nooks and crannies of the many doors lining the hallway.

A slithering streak of breath washed over a grand four-poster bed, caressing the pale face of its slumbering occupant.

The air stilled.

A palpable tension swept over the room. Inhaling sharply, Bruce's eyes snapped open in the darkness. Sitting abruptly, he threw off the covers, prepared to jump up and face an attacker in an instant. There was someone in the room with him. He could feel it.

Eyes rapidly examining his room, Bruce found no evidence of a forced entry. Only the sounds of his wavering breath and rapid heartbeat drumming in his chest reached his ears. Why hadn't the manor's security systems been triggered? He was certain there was another presence looming.

Another ten minutes crept slowly by until Bruce was satisfied there was no disturbance to worry about. Still, as he settled back into bed uneasily, he knew his Bat senses weren't often wrong. His dark hair fanned lightly against the plush pillow as his head sank back, and his eyelids slid shut.

Bruce had little warning as the bed began to shake and quiver uncontrollably.

"What the hell?" He was out of bed quicker than the blink of an eye.

A red figure enthusiastically continued to bounce up and down, up and down, up and down with a blanket billowing behind him suspiciously like a certain Dark Knight's cape.

Staring in disbelief, Bruce's mind caught up with him. Why, oh why, was the Flash jumping on his bed?

"Wally! Are you out of your mind? What are you doing here?" he yelled furiously. Wally just grinned in response. Seething, the Caped Crusader snatched the speedster's foot and hauled him down onto the edge of the bed.

The Flash laughed gleefully. "Last week at the Watchtower, I asked you if it was hard to creep around people's homes and break in and stuff the way you do. And you said it wasn't hard for you because you know all about stealth."

Raising an eyebrow, Bruce vaguely recalled the conversation. "So? What does that have to do with you breaking and entering into my house?"

Chuckling, Wally pulled back his cowl. "Silly Bats, it has everything to do with it! Then I asked you if you thought I could do something like that, too. You know — stealthiness! Your response, and I quote, 'Flash, you are probably the worst person in the League suited for infiltration because you're a loudmouth that thinks with his feet first and his head second.'"

The pieces began to fall into place. "Naturally, I decided to prove you wrong, Bats," Flash continued. "And did I ever! I got in past your security. But the cherry on top of it all, I even made it all the way to Batman's — Batman's! — bedroom without being caught. I thought you had me when you first woke up, but you didn't!"

Wally's amusement began anew as he clutched his abdomen. Bruce felt a migraine coming on as Wally continued to howl with laughter falling off the bed in the process, undeterred by the Bat Glare of Doom™. Turning quickly on his heel, Batman stomped out of the bedroom and down the hallway, descended the stairs, and waited impatiently for the grandfather clock to reveal the entrance to the Cave.

Alfred appeared at the bottom of the staircase in a robe. "Why are you returning to the Cave at this hour, Master Bruce?" he queried.

"To update the manor's security systems."

"Shall I do anything with the…guest on the floor of your bedroom?"

"Yes. Please properly dispose of him. Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said with a scowl before embarking down the winding stairway.

"Very good, sir." Alfred allowed himself a small smirk before attempting to decide if cookies or brownies (or perhaps both) would be more persuasive to convince Master Wallace never to return uninvited again.