Facing him on the opposite side of his bed, Barbara started explaining the game.
"I used to play it all the time with girls my age when I was 7; I say a word, and you simply say the first thing that comes to mind. No making stuff up or improvising, no matter how random it is. Got it?"
"So basically you're gonna play a Quack?" Dick replied, raising an eyebrow. He ducked a pillow being swung at him as Barbara asked again, but it honestly sounded kinda threatening.
"Got it?"
Rolling his eyes, Dick told her with an exaggerated sigh, "Ya, go."
"Surf." Barbara prompted.
"Mattress." Was Dick's response.
He was eleven years old and hanging out with Roy at Ollie's mansion. When you opened the front doors, there was a huge entry hall, with a two marble staircases on each side that came together at the top. They had each taken a queen mattress and raced each other, sliding like madmen down their own flight of stairs; Roy will never admit it, but he had his butt handed to him by an eleven year old.
"Girls."
"Chatter," a remark that earned him a pillow upside his head.
"Girls talk a lot." ten year old Dick informed Bruce, sitting in a big chair to the right of him.
"Is that so?" Bruce inquired, completely amused.
"Ya. Every time we would use the bathroom somewhere, mom would talk for ages to whoever was in there while dad and I waited outside the door. A crueler torture does not exist for a 6 year old. But eventually we learned that the girls bathroom was the best place to get local information, like the tourist stuff, or what part of the city we shouldn't go to, or for tips on how to use the internet."
"The internet?"
"Ya, mom was hopeless at it, and dad wasn't much better."
"Suit."
"Misery." Barbara rolled her eyes at this answer; she knew of the long held grudge Dick had against formal wear.
Alfred had just managed to finish the last details on eight year old Dick's tuxedo, who was finally ready for his first private party which was in an hour. Holding his arms and legs extremely stiff, Dick exclaimed, "I'm paralyzed!", before dramatically falling to the floor, laying ramrod straight and refusing to move. Unless, of course, he could take the suit off. After sniffing disapprovingly for five minutes, and Dick asking Alfred if he was having allergies, Alfred went to get Bruce, to try and convince Dick to wear the suit. By the time the butler got back with Bruce in tow, Dick was sitting on the floor in his superman boxers, with a defiant look on his face, his suit in a pile beside him. What happened next was by far the biggest argument Bruce and Dick had ever had in their history, but at least one that they both managed to laugh at now.
"Soap."
"Fountain."
April 1st, fourteen year old Wally, twelve year old Dick, three gallons of Dawn Dish Soap, Central City Park, Main Fountain.
Need more be said?
"Soda."
"Explosion." Dick told her, in an exasperated tone.
Roy had come to hang out with Dick and Wally at Wayne Manor for the weekend while Bruce was on a business trip to Bialya. He'd brought his own car, which had surprised thirteen year old Dick and fifteen year old Wally; they always joked that the piece of crap didn't look like it could make it past Ollie's driveway. What was dubbed 'The Suicidal Soda Incident' finally took Roy's poor car all the way out, to the dump.
What happened is Roy left a twelve pack of soda in the backseat, and it had dipped below 32 degrees that night. The soda exploding EVERYWHERE, then froze, which made the car interior look like the Hoth Ice Caves in Star Wars, but frozen soda instead of ice.
"Toddler."
"Twilight." This answer earned him a raised eyebrow from Babs.
Batman and Robin were in the batmobile, taking a lost and slightly injured 3 year old to the hospital. Said three year old was sitting with Robin, and making a major fuss during the ride.
"Are we there yet?" Robin grumbled as the toddler's fisted hand hit the Boy Wonder's mouth.
"Hey, don't do that!" he exclaimed; now buttons on the console were being pressed, much to Robin's chagrin.
"Ow! He bit me!"
"He just bit me again! It's like friggin Twilight over here!"
"Color." Barbara continued.
"Glitter."
Dick was five years old, and climbing onto his mother's lap as she worked on something at the table.
"Mama, what's that?" he asked, looking at a piece of colorful fabric with sequins on it. His mother started putting glue on certain parts, then pulled out an old, large tin.
"This is Mariah's costume, little bird; would you like to help make it?" Opening the tin, what must have been a hundred vials of different colors of glitter met his eyes; it was mesmerizing. Together they picked out what colors would look best on Mariah's costume, then Mary showed him how to sprinkle it on the fabric. When they were done, both had glitter on their hands, faces, and in their hair, but Mary just laughed in her own sweet, soft way.
Holding out the tin, she let Dick choose 3 vials of glitter as his very own, telling him to save them, because they were special.
"Pretzels."
"Poker."
Pop Haley had never actually shown Dick how to play poker, it's just that the young boy was so sharp that he picked up on it from simple observation. One would suppose it happened during the afternoons when Dick would run over to Pop Haley's trailer, pick the lock, invite himself in, sit at the table and then laugh as Pop pretended to be surprised to see him, and playfully scolded him for being there. After the initial antics, Dick would stick the big Ringmaster's Top Hat on his small head, with his ears being the only thing keeping it from falling all the way to his shoulders, while Pop Haley gave him an enormous bowl of pretzels. Three or four fellas would later come in for the regular card games with Haley, poker being the main attraction. Staying until they ran out of pretzels, Dick would then hug Haley goodbye while whispering the other players' hands to him.
"Old."
"Hippie."
Being at the Cave and having already finished his homework, Dick was bored. Glancing at what Artemis was working on, he decided to offer his expert input on the subject matter.
"Sine, cosine, and tangent? Did they teach you that whole bogus SOA-CAH-TOA song as a way to remember it?"
"Yep." Artemis told him, not looking up from her homework.
"The stupid song didn't work for me." Dick told her conversationally. "There are easier ways to remember the letters in that order. Just do what I do, and use the first letters of this phrase to remember the abbreviations: 'Some Old Hippie, Caught Another Hippie, Trippin' On Acid.' Never fails."
In all of his time knowing Artemis, he'd never seen her laugh so hard.
"Sleep."
"Ant." a response that definitely earned a questioning glance.
It was the first anniversary since his parent's death, and Dick was sitting on the couch at Wayne manor, watching TV but not really seeing anything. His eyes were red from exhaustion, for when he did fall asleep, it wasn't the slightest bit restful; for his dreams were plagued with his mother's screams, and his father calling his name for the last time as they both plunged to their death.
Bruce sat next to him, offering a mug of hot cocoa.
"I wish I was an ant." Dick told him in a dull voice, staring straight ahead.
"Why is that?" Bruce asked in a soft, sorrowful voice.
"Cause they never sleep, and if I were an ant I'd never have to sleep again."
"Team."
"Wildcats." Dick told her with a pained sigh.
Naturally a certain trip to Walmart would come to mind, but what Dick really thought of at the combination of these words was being forced to wake up to them, on a morning when he really wanted to sleep in.
Wayne Manor, Sunday morning, birds, sunshine, daisies and all that jazz. Dick was lying deep in slumber, when a loud scream of "WHAT TEAM?!" right in his ear violently jolted him to consciousness.
It took a moment to summon, but Wally ended up receiving a bat-death-glare as he was laughing his butt off from his side of the bed. "I SAID WHAT TEAM?!" he yelled again, at the top of his lungs.
Rolling over so his back faced Wally, Dick grumbled, "Leave me 'lone."
"You gotta say it!"
"Shut up."
"WHAT TEAM?!"
"Wildcats." Dick growled into his pillow. Gosh he just wanted to go back to sleep.
"LOUDER!"
"Wildcats!" Dick snapped at the redhead, as he covered his head with the pillow in an attempt to drown out Wally.
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
"FOR THE LOVE OF PEACE WALLY, WILDCATS!" he bellowed, adding a string of foreign curses that were surely R rated if someone were to translate.
"I'm hungry." Barbara absently commented.
"There's Nutella in the pantry." Dick informed her, jumping off the bed to race her to the kitchen; apparently Babs had the same thought.
"Last one there gets the empty jar!" She told him as they reached the banister...
For the record, Dick got there first, but Barbara had the advantage of longer arms so got hold of the jar first...it lasted all of 7 minutes.
You guys are so sweet! Thank you for all of the Birthday wishes, really made my day ;D
And good luck to everyone who are doing exams!
If you guys want this continued I think I might have enough for a second and third chapter, so will have to see :)
This shoutout goes to loveJLforever, Booyah to you! Whoo!
Will see you all in the next chapter or fic, whichever comes first!