A/N: This is a story originally prompted on the YJ Anon Meme. While I'm no longer a part of that community, though it was a fun run, I plan to continue this story, though I'm slowly going through the rewriting much of the posted chapters, since it's been nearly a year since I've worked on this. With the exception of a few revisions and alterations, the current story will remain overall the same.
Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice or any of the character interpretations or locations exclusive to the DC and/or Earth-16 universe. They are the property of DC Comics and their respective creators.
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Metropolis
November 19th, 1932
Anyone walking past or into Bibbo's Diner would have never thought there was anything out of the ordinary about the joint. It was a standard diner for a big city like Metropolis, furnished with a long wrap-around bar in the center and a few stray booths along the opposite wall, with a few stray paintings and movie posters decorating the walls.
No matter what time of the day it really was, the air was always filled with the aroma of breakfast foods, the strong scent of coffee, and the lingering odor of cigarette smoke, which together made a surprisingly pleasant combination. At least, in Bibbo's opinion they did.
Dick pushed the front door open and smiled as the familiar scent hit him, but Artemis wrinkled her nose at the smells in the air, which was now also laced with the thick stench of fresh cigars, courtesy of a group of business men a few booths down, and whatever greasy meals were being prepared for the customers present.
"Miss Crock, Mister Grayson," a young blonde waitress greeted them warmly, approaching them with menus folded in her hands, "Shall I prepare your usual booth?"
"No thanks Bette - we'll be dining in the back," Dick replied, lowering his voice after glancing around to make sure none of the other customers were in hearing range. Bette nodded in understanding and tucked the stack of menus beneath her arm, leading both of them around the counter and into the kitchen.
A couple of the cooks, including Bibbo himself, glanced up when they entered, but quickly turned their attention back to the dishes they were washing or preparing when they saw who had entered.
"So Bette, who's working tonight?" Artemis asked as Bette circled around the long row of stoves and flipped a switch nearly hidden by a large wooden shelf. There was a click as a unseen mechanism came to life, and the wooden shelf slid itself out of the way to reveal a thick wooden door hidden behind it.
"Megan was behind the bar earlier," Bette replied as she retrieve a key from the pocket of her apron, unlocking the door and pulling it open for them, "She's got that Conner boy down there on door security as well." Dick nodded, flashing her a charming smile as they walked past her and into the narrow hallway lined on all sides with dark brown stone.
"Do you think Wally's here?" Artemis asked as they walked down the set of narrow stairs carved into the stone.
"Not sure," Dick replied with a shrug as they rounded a corner, "Barry never really worked Wally very hard when it came to being a runner before, but that was before Scudder and Rathway were caught."
"So has Barry gone back to molding Wally as the next head of the Central City family again?"
"Probably, since the word on the streets is that his cousin Bart's not turning out to be a very promising heir," Dick shrugged again as they reached the bottom of the staircase, "Plus Barry's still got his hands full with the old boss - it's hardly been a year since old Jay retired but he's had three attempts on his life from old rivals already," Artemis shrugged back at him, as the information didn't surprise her at all.
"I'm surprised Jay made it to a retiring age," Artemis remarked as they finally reached another door, though this was was made of metal and much thicker than the one upstairs, "Though he's lasted a hell of a lot longer than Kent Nelson did."
"Hey, Nelson chose his own fate," Dick replied with a shrug of his own, knocking on the metal door. A small metal slab on the door, the outline of which had been barely noticeable, slid away and a pair of crystal blue eyes glared down at them through a small window.
"Hey there, Conner. You gonna let us in or make us stand here all night?" Artemis spoke up with a grin. The blue eyes flashed before the slab was slid back into place and the door swung open.
Conner Kent towered over them, thick arms crossed over his broad chest as he stepped back to let them in. Dick and Artemis peered through the pleasant haze of the cigarette smoke at the large, brightly lit speakeasy before them. The room was filled with the sound of live jazz music, clanking glasses, and a low hum of conversations from many patrons. The large, wide bar, visible from across the room, stood before a row of shelves covered in too many bottles of moonshine and liquor to count.
"Glad to see that Megan finally convinced you to wear your new tuxedo," Dick chuckled, looking over the dark blue suit that Conner wore. The muscular man frowned down at him, adjusting his black tie with a look of discomfort.
"I hate monkey suits..." he muttered quietly, closing and bolting the door behind them.
"If you hate it so much, just take it off big guy," Artemis replied with a wink, trying not to grin at the flustered look that passed over Conner's face.
"Artemis, stop harassing the poor security for once," Dick chuckled, hooking his arm around hers and leading her towards their usual table in the far corner, "Besides, we both know that Megan's already staked that claim. Several times. Probably even in this room."
"Doesn't mean a lady can't flirt around," Artemis smirked as they took their seats, hardly having time to settle in before another pair of arms suddenly wrapped themselves around her shoulders.
"Only one problem with that logic, Arty," a familiar voice spoke in her ear, "You're not really much of a lady."
"That sounds like the grating voice of Wally West..." Artemis sighed, humor shining in her eyes when she turned in her seat to look over at him, "I should've known; I'd recognize that freckled mug and hideous yellow cap anywhere."
"I like my cap, thank you," Wally replied defensively as he reached behind him, pulling a stray chair from a nearby empty table and settling himself between them, "Swiped it from some random runner after I took out that Grodd fellow."
"You and your souvenirs..." Dick chuckled, leaning back in his seat before waving a hand and catching the attention of one of the young attendants, who quickly bustled over with a large bottle of liquor and a small stack of glasses, "Thanks, Billy."
"Hope you at least washed it - that Grodd guy smelled like a damn ape." Artemis muttered off-handedly as she picked up the liquor bottle and pouring the three of them their shots before they simultaneously raised the small cups, "Cheers!"
"But onto to a more interesting topic," Wally said after he downed his cup in one gulp, "I overheard uncle Barry talking to Hal on the phone earlier today; someone burned down the 'Green Lantern'."
"What?!" Dick exclaimed with disbelief, though the roaring jazz music around them drowned him out from any prying ears, "The Lantern's been a hot spot for years - there's no one in that city who doesn't know it's a League establishments!"
"Yeah, and no one's more pissed about it than Kyle..." Wally said with a shake of his head, pulling the bottle over and pouring himself another glass, "Uncle Hal was about to start letting him run the joint too, since his partner finally ran off with that dame."
"You're talking about John Stewart, right?" Artemis asked, still sipping at her first glass, "Is he still an associate of Jordan's?"
"He used to be," Wally replied with a shrug, "But he sure as hell won't be if he keeps putting that vixen before his boss."
"So does anyone know who hit the Lantern yet?" Dick asked, lowering his voice as a few giggling girls staggered by the table. Wally pointedly watched the girls and shook his head, pulling off his cap and running a hand through his tousled red hair.
"Neither Barry or Hal have a suspect at this point, but that could be the least of our worries right now," Wally sighed, "Right before I finished the gig and headed up here, Barry was leaving for the Watchtower. Aunt Iris says Bruce called the meeting."
"Bruce called a meeting?" Dick repeated with a frown. Bruce rarely, if ever, resorted to calling a Watchtower meeting, and when he did, he gave Dick and the others at least a day's warning in advance. Wally nodded back at him again and started pouring himself a third cup.
"You know it's bad when the Watchtower gets called into service," Artemis sighed as Wally downed the glass, "That old lighthouse hasn't been used in years. But the Lantern aside, do you know if the meeting's going to be about anything else?"
"No, but if it is, it's nothing good for us," Wally replied, reaching to pour himself a fourth cup and scowling when Dick tugged the bottle out of his hands, "But if you want my advice, I'd say head back to Wayne Manor when you get to Gotham and do some snooping while Bruce is out."
"Sounds like a plan," Dick replied as he downed the last of his own drink, "Maybe Jason's overheard something, and if he hasn't, Babs has eyes and ears all over the League's cities."
"You wanna come with us? Kaldur's heading up there to do an interrogation for us," Artemis asked, smacking Wally's hand when he reached for her cup. She knew the liquor never gave him a buzz thanks to some ridiculous metabolism rate he was born with, but that didn't mean he could take hers either.
"Nah - I gotta get back to Central while Barry's gone," Wally replied, snatching the bottle and pouring the last of it into his glass before Dick or Artemis cpuld stop him, "Aunt Iris wants me to take Bart on my next gig and see if he's got any potential as a runner."
"You're taking Bart on a run already?" Dick inquired, lifting as eyebrow as Wally got to his feet and adjusted his cap again, " Isn't he just a kid?"
"That's rich coming from you, Dick. If Bruce taught you anything, it's that you gotta train them young." Wally grinned before downing his last shot, winking at them both before turning and disappearing into the bustling crowds.
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