Last edited on March 14, 2009, 00:59 (GMT)
Title: Placebo
Rating: K+ (to be safe, though I doubt a lot of children under 9 will read this)
Summary: The power of the mind works both ways. Completely pointless, possibly mildly humorous dialogue exercise, BM/WW.
Word count: 1400ish
Notes: As you may note, this is more or less a solid wall of dialogue with not a great deal of action in it. It is intentional. After Stay, I realized that dialogue was definitely my weak point (apart from plot), so I forced myself to write this. A lot of it is redundant, I know. The result of me trying to cram as much dialogue into an as small space as possible. What little plot there is was more or less stolen and adapted from the Batman & Robin movie (awful movie, by the way. The things we do when bored...), and I vaguely remember reading something similar here. If I stole something obvious without remembering, my apologies. BM/WW, again because it gave me a lot of dialogue options without having to think of something original.
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by DC comics, I am not making a profit from this story, and I'm a fluffy pink bunny. Come on, who reads these things anyway?
There were precious few moments for relaxation as a member of the Justice League. There always seemed to be some trouble brewing on the horizon, and when you found yourself with a moment to spare, you made the most of it. And so it was that a small recreation room of the Watchtower was currently occupied. In a sofa along the wall, Diana of Themyscira lounged, reading a book. On a large television screen, a game of football was taking place. In a pair of chairs in front of it sat Superman and Flash. In theory at least. In practice, the speedster was in a state somewhere in between sitting and standing, gesturing widely and voicing his opinion of the game.
"Aww, come on! Get the ball! I can run faster than that!" he shouted at an arbitrary player on the screen, before relaxing back into a slightly more seated position.
Clark merely smiled at the irony. "Flash, I'm not sure that's a fair comparison."
"Figure of speech, Big Blue. I can't help if-"
What exactly Wally could not help remained a mystery as he interrupted himself with a "not again!", then sighing as the offending player either did not hear him or simply did not care about his input.
"Flash," came a growl from behind them.
In his current state of excitement, Wally nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Jesus, Bats! You almost gave me a heart attack sneaking up on me like that. How do you do that anyway?" he managed.
"Are you sure he's not a meta?" Diana asked in a low voice, having found a better source of entertainment than her book could provide.
"Not even remotely," came Clark's reply just before Batman continued.
"You're coming with me to Central City," he said.
"What? Now? Why?" Flash said with obvious confusion.
"Poison Ivy has recently established a base of operations on the outskirts of the city. A greenhouse, to be specific. I would prefer to take care of it before it becomes a problem," came the explanation.
"I thought she stuck to Gotham. How do you know?"
Without a word, Batman leaned forward slightly and gave Flash an impassive look.
"Right. You're Batman. Stupid question," Flash continued while pointedly ignoring the amused look of his friends.
Deciding to save what was left of his dignity, he cleared his throat. "So, what do you need me for then? You seem to have this covered."
The Dark Knight leaned back again and crossed his arms. "It's your city. You can think of it as professional courtesy or a request for backup if you'd like, but mostly, I just want you to distract the media when it's over."
"Not big on credit, are ya, Bats?" Flash asked.
"Many believe that I am nothing more than an urban legend to scare criminals. It's a belief I have cultured, encouraged even. What do you think?" Batman grated.
"Right, well, anyway," the Flash continued, managing to look slightly contrite, "you know I'd normally be all over this kind of thing but, the thing is, I sort of have plans. Like a date."
This earned him a glare.
"Flash, while I'm sure a date for you is a rare enough occurrence to justify allowing an eco-terrorist to operate unhindered," Batman growled, "your love life not withstanding-"
"I'll go."
It was Diana that had interrupted. There was an uncomfortable silence as Batman turned to stare at her, as if trying to gauge the merit of her offer. It lasted for several seconds before he finally spoke.
"Javelin bay. Ten minutes."
"Very well, but only because you asked so nicely," she said with just a hint of sarcasm, giving him an overly sweet smile as she rose from her seat and walked out of the room. Clark tried his best to hide a smile.
"Thanks, Di!" Flash called after her, relieved that he was off the hook. There was still one thing though...
Batman merely stared at the open door for a few more seconds after she had left. He did not even bother to turn to the speedster.
"What do you want, Flash?"
"What makes you think I want something?" Flash replied nervously, trying and failing miserably to sound innocent.
"One, you are still here despite your clear discomfort, ample time to leave and an available escape route. Two, you are currently quiet despite the fact that your mouth is not otherwise occupied. Three, you are staring at me, and I sincerely hope that I'm not your type. Start talking."
"Ah," the younger man began, "you know that I'd normally not ask, especially not you, not that there's anything wrong with that or that I don't like you but you're not exactly the kind of person you talk to about this sort of thing but I just really want everything to be perfect and since you are who you are you couldjust sortofhelpmeout andI'dreallyappreciateitand-"
As the individual words started to become indistinguishable, the Dark Knight sighed. "Flash?"
"Yes?"
"Stop talking."
"Sorry."
Rolling his eyes under the cowl, Batman continued, "Now, for the speed-impaired among us," and then carefully articulated each word, "what. Do. You. Want?"
Flash tried again. "Well, I kinda wanted to ask you a favor. About the date. I-"
"No."
"But I just-"
"No."
"You don't even-"
Flash was bright enough to stop on his own accord as Batman slowly turned to face him.
"It occurs to me," he said in a low growl, "that it would be most unfortunate if Fire was to find out about your involvement with a certain reporter. Some might even call it dangerous..."
He let the statement hang in the air as Flash paled, a sharp contrast against his costume.
"Shutting up," he managed, and with a gust of wind, he was gone.
As Batman moved to follow Flash out of the room, he paused, then closed the door. "I can feel your smirk from here, Kent."
"Bit harsh, don't you think?"
Sighing, Bruce turned to his friend. "He is dating two women at the same time, Clark. Both unaware of the other. Whatever happens is his own fault."
"Even if it would be someone else that happened to mention it? Besides, Bruce, the gossip columns seem to suggest that you are not in a position to judge him."
Bruce narrowed his eyes. "That's different and you know it. Those women know what they are getting into when they start dating Bruce Wayne. It is practically expected of him."
"Wally, on the other hand," he continued, "should know better than to throw away a good thing. I would think it difficult enough to find a woman able to stand him, let alone two. He has a choice to make."
Clark sighed. "You shouldn't underestimate him. He's still young, but he's not stupid. He can take care of himself."
"Hnn. Just don't expect me to clean up what's left of him after this blows up in his face. It will."
"Perhaps," the man of steel agreed. "But on another note, you do know that referring to yourself in third person is said to be a sign of insanity, right?"
The eyes narrowed further. "Some might say the same about a man who believes that a pair of glasses is sufficient disguise for the world's most recognized face."
Clark merely smiled back. "It has worked so far, hasn't it?" he said.
"But I should probably get going," he continued, ignoring his friend's muttered commentary on dumb luck while walking towards the door. "Good talk, but I think you've exceeded your word quota for the day by far."
Having reached the exit, he paused. "Good luck on the mission, Bruce," he said, before he opened the door and left.
Bruce could have sworn the man was still smirking.
Closing notes: I've got another chapter as well, mostly done but still editing. Should be up soon, but you can probably guess the outcome. As I wrote this as a dialogue exercise, obviously I would appreciate any comments you may have on that particular aspect (especially the use of surrounding information, like he said with a smile etc.), no matter how brutal. Like I said, the plot is not exactly my proudest moment (and not what I'd generally like to think of as my style), and while I tried to sneak some humor in, it's not the dominating theme. Sorry if Flash came out like a stereotype comic relief.