"Robin, I'm not wearing that."
Her eyes scorch the back of the fifteen year old's head, though said teen pays no mind to her glare and continues to search through the large clothing rack.
"I don't see what the problem is," he remarks absentmindedly, "You've dressed up for undercover missions before. Why freak out over this?"
Her eyes narrow into slits as she looks back to the dreaded outfit on the table. "A; it's a dress, B; nobody else on the team is dressing up. Why should I?"
"It's a celebration." He grins evilly. "Think of it as two holidays in one: your seventeenth birthday… and Halloween."
"It's the middle of June! Who wants to go to a freaking renaissance festival in the middle of June?"
"A lot of people, actually." He admits. "But this isn't a renaissance festival, Artemis. It's different."
"Well then what is it?" She throws her arms into the air. "A tea party?"
"Not exactly. It's more of a conventional thing, I guess."
The smile he hides doesn't go unnoticed when she listens. "Tell me what it is." She demands.
"Okay." He lets out an audibly forced sigh. "Just promise that you'll be a little bit more downset after I tell you."
"I promise." She groans.
"It's a geek convention. Well, not necessarily 'geek', but more like 'enthusiast' or something. Batman's sending us there to investigate someone who might have some connections to our last mission."
"If that's the case, I could go in my uniform and blend right in! What's so important about the freaking dress?"
"Frying pan." Robin mumbles.
"What?"
"Frying pan." He says, "Here."
A loud clank on the concrete floor startles her. About an inch or two from her feet is a frying pan, one that she's pretty sure is from the Cave's kitchen.
"Seriously, Artemis." Dick says, suddenly in front of her and looking personally insulted for some reason, "You've never seen 'Tangled'?"
"That one movie that came out four years ago? Wasn't that for kids or something?"
"It's a classic!" he exclaims. "A tale for all ages! How could you have not seen it?"
"I… wasn't into movies as a kid. Is that a problem?"
"It kind of is." Robin says under his breath.
"Really?" she mutters tersely, "How?"
"Because you're going to be going in covertly," he explains, "it's just that you'll just be more overt than the rest of us."
It's at this point that she feels like the biggest idiot in the word. "What are you talking about?" she asks.
His eyes flicker to the dress.
"Disney princesses are apparently a recent hot commodity in the convention scene. The one thing we do know about our mystery person is that they'll be in that group."
After a few seconds, she talks."Then why not have M'Gann shapeshift like she did in the circus? Why not have her use her telepathy?"
"Batman doesn't want another Psimon fiasco; our target's a telepath, too. Who knows what could go wrong?" He sends a sudden leer in her direction. "As for the no-shapeshifting aspect, let's just say that I like certain portrayals of things to be both accurate and realistic. With you, that certainly won't be hard to accomplish."
She stares at him tacitly. I'm not wearing the damn dress.
When he asks "Please?" in the most polite voice he can manage, Artemis is almost sure that his blue eyes (which probably aren't even blue; Bats apparently makes him wear contacts whenever he reveals his face) are widened like a puppy dog's beneath his sunglasses.
"No." she says.
His mouth cracks open to protest.
"—Not until you tell me what the frying pan's for."
And all of a sudden, he beams at her. "In that case," he begins, "we have a movie to watch."
Aaaand, scene!
This is a spontaneous little drabble of the wee night hours, dedicated to my RP buds. They've gotten Traught, so this is in their honor, unbeta-d screw-ups and all.