Title: What a Drag

Pairing: Dick Grayson/Wally West

Rating: M

Summary: Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder, had no problem going above and beyond for the sake of a mission, but even he had to admit his limits. Cross-dressing and doing it successfully was beyond his limits. Dick didn't mind admitting that, and he even let Bruce hire a teacher for him, but who that turned out to be – well, Dick just knew he never look at anything the same way again.

Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice. I just like fooling around with them.

Prologue

A breeze blew through the grounds, whispering in-between the leaves and carrying the chirping of crickets in the air while the clouds rode on the air currents high in the sky. It was starting to get colder as they approached winter. All in all, it would have been a perfect evening to Dick, if his mind wasn't overly preoccupied as he lay there on the stargazing platform of the Manor. The stargazing platform was located between the roofs of the South Wing, perfectly out of the way of other household members, and it was his own little Fortress of Solitude, just without all the snow, ice, crystal and Kryptonian technology.

Dick lay on the floor with his arms crossed behind his head, simply staring at the clouds. When he was younger, he used to look up at the stars and clouds and tried to connect the dots and imagine the mass bulbs of clouds as images, but that was the activity of a child, with the worries of a child. Granted, no nine year old on average went out crime-fighting, had the fitness level of a world-class acrobat or had to do detective work in his spare time, but looking back, Dick saw it as a child's life. Now, at the age of fifteen he faced a different type of challenge altogether.

Dick Grayson, Boy Wonder, had no problem going above and beyond for the sake of a mission, but even he had to admit his limits. Cross-dressing and doing it successfully was way past his limits. Sure, he could imitate a female voice because his still had the shrill, high-pitched voice of a boy's, but that was where his talents regarding the imitation of the female gender ended. Growing up in the circus made him into a natural performer, but he had no idea how to gait his hips into a feminine sway or how to give across the general body language of a female. How was he supposed to walk in high heels or apply the right amount of make-up? Dick had voiced those questions to Bruce, who seemed wholly indifferent to his dilemma, obviously expecting him to be able to flip a switch or something and turn into a girl.

Sighing through his nose, Dick closed his eyes and simply listened to the noise around him. Pulling one arm out from under his head, he checked his phone for the time. It was too late to stop by Mount Justice. The moon had just set and no one would be awake this early in the morning. Well, no one outside of the Bat family that is.

Lying there, thinking over his skills, Dick started to list off the ones that would help him. The first and most obvious one was his voice and his skill in voice imitation, but that was only one small aspect of turning into a girl. Being an acrobat, he was naturally flexible, so ultimately learning to move his body in a feminine way wouldn't be a problem, if he knew where to start that is. His skills as an acrobat would allow him to adjust to the balance shifts that would come with the high heels and probably the added weight from the breasts he would have to wear. Grimacing at the thought of wearing fake boobs, Dick hoped they wouldn't be too big or heavy, because he still had to be able to move about without much trouble. He wondered if Alfred knew anything about make-up, after all, the man did help him and Bruce to apply concealers to hide their bruises, so maybe Alfred had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

Deciding to call it a night, Dick stood up and brushed the back of his legs and his lower back free of dust and went inside. Quietly, he stalked through the Manor, making a stop by Jason's room before he continued to his own. With the door closed behind him, Dick switched on his bedside lamp and set his alarm. Pulling his hoody over his head and stepping out of his sweatpants, which he folded and lay over the back of a chair, and made his way over to his full length mirror. There was just enough light coming from the bedside lamp for him to see himself.

Taking a deep breath, Dick put his hands on his hips, tilting them to an angle and put all of his weight on one leg, like he had seen the girls in his school do. Scowling, he looked at his reflection. His hips were too sharp and the length and muscle tone of his legs just made him look awkward beyond belief. How was he supposed to pull off the make-up, clothing or walking when he couldn't even stand in a simple pose like a girl?

Bruce had told him that he had a few months to prepare and perfect his act. To Dick, all the time in world would not have been long enough. Sure, Bruce and Alfred were preparing his 'rep' as Samca, a female assassin/thief of Romanian origins, making sure that a few key artefacts would disappear and make falsified reports of assassinations, but it all came down to Dick's ability to portray Samca. No pressure.

Dick carded his fingers through his hair and looked downheartedly at his reflection. This was definitely at the top of his Never Again list. He would do this once, for the mission and never again. Naturally, the first thing Dick had done when he had begrudgingly accepted the mission was to do some research into drag queens and transvestites. He found nothing that was even remotely helpful. All he could think of as he flipped through site after site was how those guys did it. He couldn't understand how men did this on a regular basis. How could they dress up and act like women as if it was the most natural thing in the world?

He wasn't judging them mind you; he just didn't understand the appeal. Some of the men weren't bad looking, well, before they put on all the make-up and wigs anyway. Now, as Dick Grayson, the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, he had taken quite a few of Gotham's society darlings on dates to keep up appearances. When he had time to be himself, just Dick, he often found his eyes wondering around, and more often than not, they were caught by a handsome boy, but only a few people knew that, fortunately or unfortunately, that did not include his best friend. Ok, maybe he kept a lot of things from Wally, like his real identity, but he was not willing to risk the speedster's friendship by admitting to being bisexual. Realistically, Dick knew that one day he would have to choose between either men or women, but for now, as the son of a billionaire playboy, he would be able to have the best of both worlds for a few more years. He also knew that Bruce had started leaning more on the side of gay when the playboy had started exclusively dating a certain reporter.

Sighing, he turned away from the mirror and went straight to bed, tossing the scatter cushions onto an arm chair in the corner. He sat on his bed, meditating for a while before he dove under the duvet. Maybe he'd wake up tomorrow with a clear idea on how to approach his task.

: : : : :

Bruce smiled to himself as he saw Dick wander about the Manor late Saturday morning. The boy was so focused on his mission that he had decided to forgo spending time with the Team like he normally did on the weekend. He had managed to catch the end of Dick's conversation with Alfred. Poor boy. There was no way the family butler knew how to apply make-up successfully enough to make Dick look like a girl.

As Bruce Wayne, the father, he was happy that Dick knew his limits and went asking for help, but as Batman, he wanted to push the boy to become better – to be prepared for everything and anything. Bruce smiled as he stared at his laptop screen, reading the quarterly report from Lucius. The door to the study opened.

"It's a little early for tea—"

Bruce stopped short when he saw the tall, dark-haired figure in the doorway. A smile spread on his lips.

"You're early too," he said as he relaxed back into his chair.

Clark Kent stood there in his ill-fitting suit, thick, black rimmed glasses and a dorky smile on his lips.

"I finished up early," Clark said, shrugging his shoulders as he walked closer to the desk. "If it's a problem, Mr Wayne, that I'm early, I can always leave again."

Bruce had a lopsided smile when Clark stretched over the top of his laptop and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. Deciding that he could finish reading the quarterly report at a later date, Bruce closed his laptop and waved a hand to on the leather chairs for the Kryptonian to sit in.

"You almost look as surly as Dick," Clark observed.

"Quarterly reports," Bruce said dismissively. "But, Dick has just about every reason to walk about with a thunder cloud hanging over his head. I think I might've pushed the parameters for this mission too far."

Clark frowned but said nothing. Bruce sighed and massaged his temples.

"Dick has to infiltrate a villain society – and that's not the problem. Villains are more cautious now, and seem to be suspect in taking in new members, specifically male members. In light of that, I've started setting up a rep of a female assassin for Dick to take up."

Clark blinked, almost comically, at Bruce before his shoulder shook with ill contained mirth.

"You want him to cross-dress as this female assassin?" Clark asked. When he got a nod, he couldn't hold back his laughter.

"I really don't see how this is funny. Dick only has three months, at most, to get his act together, and I don't know if he can get it right by then." Bruce slouched in his chair. "I don't even know where to start looking for help."

"I think I can help you with that."

: : : : :

Dick stared at the sign above the door. They had come all the way to Central City, on a Tuesday, to visit a gay bar called The Brass Bell? He was not pleased in the slightest. He had hoped to go to see the Team for at least a few hours, but no, Bruce decided to drag him all the way here.

"Cheer up, kid," Bruce said as he got out of the car. "I've arranged to meet the owner today. I'd buy the place, keep him in charge and make sure this doesn't leak out to the press. You remember why you're here, right?"

How could he forget?

"I'm here to learn how to turn into the perfect society dame to catch the attention of one of your corporate rivals and steal some valuable information. I know my cover story, Bruce. I just don't want to be here," Dick said a frown and his lips pursed.

Reluctantly, Dick followed Bruce into the bar and was surprised by what he saw. Now, to be fair, he didn't really know what to expect since he had never been in a gay bar before, but he was not expecting such an ordinary-looking interior. The walls were a warm, carmine red and the floor –recently polished – was made up of dark wooden panels. There were tables, chairs and booths placed strategically so that every seated patron would have a clear view of the stage that dominated the back.

"Great, a theatre bar," Dick muttered to himself.

Bruce left Dick at the door and went over to the bar, where a man was taking inventory of the alcohol. Deciding that he would rather look around more, Dick started walking about, looking at the old posters of shows held at the bar that hung on the wall. He heard the door open, but ignored it in favour of shoving his hands into his pockets. The footsteps were quick and passed right by him. Dick turned his head to try and get a look at who had come in. The person, most definitely a young man, who had his back to Dick continued walk, waving a greeting to the bartender. He couldn't make out any distinctive features because the man, boy —whatever!— wore a chunky jacket and a green beanie over his head. He watched as the guy walked back to the stage and disappeared behind the red curtains.

Making his way over to the bar, Dick counted the various types of alcohol that were on display behind the bartender and noticed that there was a club soda and a single, neat whiskey on the counter.

"You must be Dick Grayson?" the bartender asked, giving the teenager a once over. "I'm Vince, the bartender, cleaner and assistant manager."

"Hey," was all the reply Dick felt like giving as he sat on the bar stool, ignoring the look Bruce sent him. They sat there, in silence for about twenty minutes when the owner finally came. The man walked in with his cheeks red and his blonde hair tousled from the wind that had started up and a thick, wrapped parcel under his arm. He smiled when he spotted the pair of Gothamites at the bar.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, "got held up in traffic."

Bruce gracefully left the bar and shook the man's hand. "Not a problem, Mr Meyer."

"You can just call me Matt," he said with a smile. "And you're Dick."

Dick nodded, but made no move to leave the bar. Matt looked over him intently for a few moments before he smiled again, this time it appeared more like a sly grin than the boyish smile from earlier.

"Well, the fact that Dick is still young and has that slight feminine look to him will help a lot," Matt said. "But, I'm guessing that you want to go for a completely natural look, and want someone to teach him everything from walking to sneezing correctly, right?"

"That's correct," Bruce said before Dick could even think about a witty remark.

Dick glared at Bruce, but dropped it when he got a full on Bat-glare in return and slid out of the bar stool. He wanted to get this over with so that he could still catch everyone at Mount Justice before they left.

"You know, Mr Wayne," Matt started, "there was no need to make an offer to buy the place. We look after our own, but having your marketing expertise wouldn't hurt, so we can talk over the specifics of this while Dick gets to know his new teacher." Matt paused and looked at Vince. "Tell me he's here already."

"Got in just before you did," Vince replied. "He's in the back, probably getting his things ready for tonight."

Vince was suddenly next to Dick, trying to get the parcel away from Matt. To Dick, Vince looked like a kid who was about to open his Christmas presents. There was a sharp sound of tearing paper as Matt handed over the parcel. Trying not to come across as overly curious, Dick glancing looked to see the edge of a large photo frame. In his mind, Dick made calculations as to how many of those frame were wrapped up, and came up with a total of eleven.

Dick noticed that Bruce had moved closer, probably to get a better look at the photographs. Dick couldn't help but let his mouth hang open slightly when he saw the first photograph. There, staring up at them was what seemed to be two separate halves of a man and a woman matched up together perfectly. If Dick wasn't trained by Bruce, he would have been fooled into thinking that it was a mastery of computer manipulation, but he could clearly see that the male and female halves were the same person.

"That's quite something," Bruce said. "You had this commissioned?"

Matt laughed and shook his head. "No. Alexis started out here waiting tables and asked to use some of my boys and girls do a 'half drag' for her upcoming exhibition. They were there for a few nights and a photographer took some photos and I had them framed." Matt paused and shouted. "Kid, get your freckle face out here! I have a surprise for ya!"

"All I heard was: 'freckle face' and 'surprise.' To be honest, you had me at 'surprise,'" a voice said from the stage. "So, what is it? Chocolate hazelnut spread? Saltwater taffy? White Rabbits? A raise?"

Dick turned and felt his heart stop. There, on the stage, in a gay bar/theatre, waving a hand wet with burgundy nail polish stood none other than Wally West.

: : : : :

Wally smiled at the strangers. Well, to be honest, he knew who they were. Actually, who didn't know Bruce Wayne and his adopted son, Dick Grayson? It was just strange to see them at the Brass Bell, all the way in Central City, on Tuesday. Absentmindedly, he continued to blow on his fingernails as he stepped off of the stage, all the while aware that Dick was watching him, almost surprised. Now that made him curious. Was Dick surprised because Wally was only older than him a few years, or because Dick found him attractive? He hoped it was more the latter.

"So, I remember the word 'surprise' being mentioned," Wally said, smiling, but he stopped, frowning at Matt. "If it's another pink feather boa, I might just not pitch up later in time for the show."

Wally stopped just off to Dick's right and nearer to Vince. Wally gasped when he saw the photo underneath the first one. Both Scarlet and Wally were staring up at him. Gently, he took the photo by its black frame –with his left hand– and stared at it. It was strange to see his two halves together like that. Sure, he had to look in the mirror to apply make-up to become Scarlet, but this was different.

He looked over the male half of his face, clear green eyes, wild red hair and his nose and cheeks dusted with freckles and then to the female half. Scarlet. He didn't pick the name, Matt, the resident drag mother had given it to him. After all, the man was like an uncle to Wally, and so, Matt knew Wally was Kid Flash and what the colour red, scarlet specifically, meant to him. Scarlet had the same bright green eyes but surrounded by a dark, smoky eye shadow, with flawless skin, sangria red glossed lips and wavy copper red ombre hair. All-in-all, it was fairly tame compared to what other drag queens did, but that was the point. He worked hard to get Scarlet polished.

"Is that you?" Dick asked.

Wally snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the younger boy. He sure was a pretty one, in Wally's opinion.

"Yeah, that's me," was all he said. "You know, Matt, this isn't much of a surprise. Most of us knew about these photos."

Matt smiled. "It's standing right next to you."

Wally frowned and looked to Dick. "I'm pretty sure Mr Wayne wouldn't let you hire him for the night."

Now, to people who didn't know Wally, they thought he was at times imprudent and a smart-ass, but in truth, the humour was a defence mechanism of sorts. But, Wally did wish he had a camera handy to capture a snapshot of Dick's face. Poor boy looked like he had been told he had just eaten a puppy. Matt and Vince were the only ones who laughed, though Mr Wayne did look amused, or at least, Wally hoped that that was a sparkle of amusement in the man's eye and not killing intent.

"No," Matt started, "he's your new student. Dick here has to learn to impersonate a woman to get some info."

Wally continued to scowl. Carefully, he put down the photograph onto the bar counter and folded his arms across his chest. It was a strange request, and he knew why Matt was telling him to do it, because Wally knew the other drag queens and kings that worked here, and while they were good people, they were probably not the best to fill out a role as a teacher.

"Why come here, though?" Wally asked. "Why come all the way out to Central? You have money, Mr Wayne, and it would've been easier for you to hire a private tutor from Gotham City."

Bruce Wayne smiled. "I have considered that, but you came recommended by a friend. It will be easier for Dick to learn from someone in his own age group and I wanted him exposed to an entirely different environment."

A friend? Wally had no idea who that might've been. The only people who knew both Wally and Scarlet lived in Central, and most were form the working to upper-middle class, no-one that would have had reason to interact, let alone be friends with a billionaire like Bruce Wayne. Sighing heavily, he looked to Dick. The boy looked like he wanted to be anywhere by where he was right now, and slightly embarrassed? Yes, that was definitely embarrassment from the way Dick averted his eyes and pursed his lips.

"You asked if you were getting a raise earlier, correct?" Bruce asked Wally. "I can pay you a steady amount for every day you spend teaching Dick."

"I don't do this, or anything really, for the sake of money," Wally replied concisely as he made a wide gesture to indicate his immediate area. "Being a drag queen is a great hobby of mine, and I work here to help out Matt, and because I like performing here. I don't need or want your money."

Wally shook his head and turned to leave for the safety of the back stage where he could get ready for his show tonight. He never did mingle well with rich people. Wally liked working hard to earn something, and people of the upper class liked to think money got you everything, like Mr Wayne had just demonstrated.

"Wait!" Dick called.

Wally stopped and looked to Dick and found himself surprised by what he saw. The boy looked desperate.

"I…" Dick let his voice trail off before he looked Wally in the eye. "I have skills -I can do calculus in my head, I'm a gifted acrobat, I'm charismatic, but this? I can't do this without help."

Wally sighed. How could he turn that down?

Well, there you go. As you may have noticed, I've shifted a few things around, but nothing major, just the fact that Dick never revealed his true identity to Wally and Bruce and Clark are in a relationship. Also, I don't have a Beta reader for this, so there will be a mistake here and there.

Reviews and constructive criticism is appreciated.