A stack of one-shots out on the table before me. Which ones will make the cut? Which one will I get around to finishing? Which one will get the most reviews asking if I gave up on The Ward because I'm posting something else for a change? Those are the questions, my ducky, and quite frankly, they're all the wrong ones. You should really be asking what it is that's behind you. It's starting to frighten me a little.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I do not own.
"We don't need to break the sound barrier to catch up with these guys," Robin said into his com. link with a little roll of his eyes as he revved the Robin Cycle to keep up with the Batmobile down the empty stretch of highway. "You put the tracker on the van. They're not going anywhere that we won't see."
"They could easily remove the tracker. We can't risk that."
The ten year old gave a little huff, squeezing the sides of the dirt-bike sized motorcycle with his calves while he pulled his helmet down tighter over his head.
"You can't risk that," he wanted to say.
It wasn't like these guys were ax murderers. They weren't any kind of murderers, actually. They weren't anything more than a few kids who held up a bank and got off with a a quarter of a hundred grand. Chances were they'd try and spend it in big amounts and they'd get arrested on their own. Batman didn't seem to believe in chances, though.
"It's underneath their car. With their speed, no one's getting under there," Robin said instead, returning his hands to the handlebars.
"It could become dislodged."
The younger of the two looked over at the ridiculousness of the idea, seeming to forget that a mask, a dark visor, and a dark window stood between him and who the gaze was intended for.
"You're the one who personally designed our trackers," he reminded Batman. "It's not going anywhere."
"Nothing's fail proof, Dick."
"You are. Failure checks under its bed for you at night. It tells its children stories about you, so it won't sneak out at night. Failure-"
Robin stopped when he felt the Bat Glare through the many layers separating them, but found himself swallowing a little smirk as he heard the breath of a laugh in his mentor's attempt to scold him.
"Try and be serious. This isn't a stake out."
"My lack of Dr. Pepper already tells me that."
Robin could hear the hint of a smile in the hero's silence and it was all he needed. The two let the road speak for them for a long stretch of their pursuit, engines rumbling like breathy laughter. It lasted up until two quick moving blips showed up on the screen the Duo were using to track the robbers.
"Bruce, what are they?" the sidekick asked, knowing that his guardian would know exactly what he was talking about as he gripped a little tighter at his handlebars.
Batman ignored the question to an extent and eased the Batmobile a few feet away from his sidekick, making a car-sized gap between them. Robin wasn't sure of the reason, but he didn't ask. If he knew the man he lived with, he knew he'd get his answer as soon as the blips caught up.
To be honest, he had been expecting something mildly dangerous. Definitely something more interesting than the van of robbers they were chasing. Something like two missiles or pieces of a fallen star that circled the earth at breakneck speeds for reasons scientists had yet to discover. When two brightly dressed people ran up beside them, feet a blur against the road, he had to admit that he was a little disappointed. I mean, super speed was pretty cool, but missiles were a little cooler.
The older one was in a red costume, easily around Bruce's age, and he ran alongside the Batmobile with a presumably unconscious man on his back. There was a lot of blood, but Robin always found himself assuming unconscious. It helped him sleep at night. The other couldn't have been much older than he was, maybe thirteen at most, in a near blinding yellow. Even with his cowl down, Robin could still see a trace of freckles over his pale cheeks, and a hint of a green in the eyes behind the goggles.
When Batman rolled his window down, the sidekick took the initiative to lift his visor. The one in yellow smiled feebly at him, raising a hand in a little wave. He returned them.
"Glad to see you, man," the one in red told Batman, a bit of strain to his voice.
It was more from stress than exhaustion from the way they kept tearing at the road. Robin wondered what their shoes were made of.
"What's the fastest way to the hospital?" the one in red went on, adjusting the man on his back.
"Stand in traffic," Robin quipped, more to himself, with a little grin.
The one in yellow beside him snorted, about losing his footing. Batman and the man in red looked over. The younger two pressed their smiles tightly, barely managing to hold them back until the adults resumed their conversation.
"I like you," the speedster grinned, sticking out a hand, "Kid Flash."
A grin swelled back over Robin's cheeks and he balanced himself on the Robin Cycle, reaching over and shaking Kid Flash's hand, "Robin."
They held eyes for a moment, goggles on mask, before the ten year old reached back for his handlebars. The man in red cleared his throat, earning their gazes, and he jerked his head off in the horizon.
"C'mon," he urged his apparent sidekick, taking off in a red blur.
Kid Flash's shoulders slumped a little, but he nodded, looking back to the kid beside him.
"See you 'round sometime, Robin," he promised, grin falling a little crooked.
He took off after the other, turning to wave goodbye. Robin returned the wave as he pulled back his visor.
"Sometime, Kid Flash," he muttered to himself, and gunned off after the Batmobile.
-F.J. III
