I'm relieved to know that I'm not the only person scared of cows. Some cows are very nice, but some (I'm sure of it) have murder in their eyes.
Anyway, we're switching gears. This is a belated story about Tim turning 21. The boys are going to Las Vegas and The Hangover-esque shenanigans shall ensue. Since the ages of the Bat Fam changed with the reboot, let's pretend Damian is in middle school when Tim turns 21. Taking a ten-year-old boy to Vegas is ridiculous, but a thirteen-year-old? Totally okay.
Many thanks to DreamWriterx3 for the inspiration for this story.
And while we're on the subject of birthdays: happy belated 25th birthday to Glimare! (I saw that on one of your story updates). It's good to know there are other twenty-somethings out there!
And thank you Cirruz The Night Elf for appreciating my grammar. I try.
"We'll be touching down in Las Vegas in about half an hour," the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom of one of Bruce Wayne's private jets. Inside were Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian, all comfortably lounging in the plush seats.
"Wow," Tim breathed in reaction to the announcement. "I still can't believe you guys are taking me to Vegas for my twenty-first birthday! Connor was so jealous."
Dick smiled as he handed Tim a drink (technically, Tim had turned twenty-one the day before; Bruce and Alfred had insisted that Tim's actual birthday be a day with dignity). "Well thank Jason, Timlet; it was his idea."
"Don't mention it," Jason muttered before Tim could actually offer him any thanks. Jason was still irritated that he had been forced to rely on Dick to seal the deal. He had spent weeks trying to convince Bruce to let them go to Vegas and had met with nothing but firm refusals. He let Dick in on the plan, and Goldie had secured them permission in ten minutes. Damn him!
"Thanks anyway, Jason," Tim replied. He was trying to be polite.
"What I don't understand," Jason groused, "is why we brought along a middle-schooler. This is Vegas for cryin' out loud!"
Damian glared daggers at Jason. He didn't like being reminded that he was a child.
"Aww, Jay, don't be like that." Dick handed his brother a beer in an effort to appease him. "I didn't want Little D to miss out on the Cirque de Soleil show we're seeing tonight."
"We're going to Cirque de Soleil!" Jason and Tim shouted simultaneously - Tim with excitement and Jason with annoyance.
"Yeah, of course."
"How did you get tickets?" Tim asked. "Those shows sell out months in advance."
"Well, I'm -."
"An acrobat," Jason finished tartly.
Dick frowned. "Well, yes, thank you for noticing. But I was going to say that I'm friends with some of the performers and they got me tickets."
"This is going to be so cool," Tim nearly squealed.
"Just so long as we have plenty of time for drinking," Jason insisted.
"Don't worry, Jason; we're going to the early evening show. You'll have all night to drink."
"You do have Bruce's Platinum Amex, right, Dickie-bird?"
Dick grinned. "Of course! Never leave home without it."
"Good. Because I fully intend on running up a bar tab that will give even the likes of ol' Brucie a heart attack."
"Rise and shine, you filthy swine."
Tim groaned and refused to open his eyes. He felt like he had been run over by a truck – no, two trucks (at least).
"You're pathetic, Drake," the voice sneered. Tim slowly, slooooowly opened one eye and found Damian staring straight into his face. "The least you can do when you overindulge in alcohol is learn to hold your liquor." Tim looked towards the floor and saw a pile of vomit. His vomit. Ewww.
"Uggh." Tim pried open his other eye and started to sit up. Make that three trucks.
"Here, take these." Jason suddenly appeared at his side with a tall glass of water and some pills. Tim gratefully swallowed the aspirin and flopped back down on the couch.
"Why are you so chipper?"
"Me?" Jason laughed. "I can drink like a pro. Trust me, if you can drink Harper under the table, you can do anything."
"Remind me never to go out with Roy. Ever."
Jason just laughed. "You'll feel better if you eat something." He glanced about the suite. "I'd recommend toast, but since we're fresh out of that…" He darted off and returned moments later with a bag. "Have some pretzels."
Tim took the bag and tentatively munched on a few, all while keeping his eyes closed. He felt better with his eyes closed.
After a few minutes of silence, Damian cleared his throat. "I'm glad you two cretins had a good time last night, but where is Grayson?"
"What do you mean "where is Grayson?" Isn't he in the bathroom?" Jason nodded his head backward, indicating the community bathroom on the far side of the living room.
"That door has been closed for over five hours," Damian declared. "What's he doing in there?"
"Primping?" Jason suggested.
"Tt."
Jason sighed. "Fine. I'll go check on him."
Jason ambled over to the bathroom and opened the door. "Ahhhh!"
Tim's eyes flew open. "What's wrong?"
"There's a bunch of big-ass bats in there!"
"Bats?"
"Yeah, you know, flying rodents of the night."
"We're all familiar with bats," Tim said tiredly.
"Yeah, well there must be a dozen huge bats in there. Wingspans of a couple feet!"
"Tt."
"I'll show you." Jason opened the bathroom door again and one large bat came flying out. It had a wingspan of three or four feet. Definitely not a species native to the United States.
"How did that get in here?" Tim wondered aloud while Jason browbeat the monster bat back into the bathroom.
"And, more importantly, where's Grayson?" Damian demanded.
Jason slammed the bathroom door shut. "Not in there, I can tell you that."
"Then where is he?" Damian insisted. No way was he being left alone with Drake and Todd.
"Did he come home with us last night?" Jason asked.
"How should I know?" Damian sneered. "I was asleep."
Jason shrugged. "Well, I don't remember. Tim?"
Tim paused, thinking carefully. Suddenly his eyes widened in terror. "I don't remember either. In fact, I don't remember anything."
"Idiot," Damian hissed.
Tim glared at him. "Well, I remember leaving Cirque de Soleil, eating dinner, and bringing Damian back to the room. And then…. I just remember waking up this morning."
"This afternoon," Damian snidely corrected.
Jason nodded. "Me, too, actually." Then he shrugged. "I guess we're working blind."
"And that doesn't bother you?" Tim shrieked.
"He's probably in the room. Come on, let's look."
When a thorough search of the room failed to turn up any trace of Dick, even Jason started to get worried. Their brother's unexplained absence and the massive bats in the bathroom indicated that some serious shit had gone down last night. But what?
Reassembling in the suite's living room, the trio was greeted to the melodious tones of "I'm Too Sexy" on a cell phone.
"It's Dick's!" Tim shouted, elated. "He's here!"
"Tt. The sound is coming from your pocket, Drake."
"Oh." Tim reached into his pants pocket and pulled out Dick's iPhone. "It's Bruce!" Tim looked panicked.
"Give it here," Jason sighed. "Hey, Bruce. What's up? Oh we had a good time last night. The others really enjoyed Cirque de Soleil. Hmmm?"
A pause on Jason's end.
"Where's Dick? Oh, he's taking a shower and I didn't want to leave you hanging."
"When are we leaving tomorrow? Not sure. I'll have Dick call you back when he knows."
"No, everything's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll have Dick call you back. But don't wait up – you know how long he takes in the shower."
"Yes, Dick will call you back." Jason sighed. "Goodbye, Bruce." He hung up.
"We are dead. Bruce is already suspicious because Dick failed to check in at regular intervals last night."
"Check in!" Tim gasped.
I know." Jason shook his head at Dick's willingness to indulge Bruce's neuroses. "But look on the bright side: we know Dick was okay until midnight."
"Midnight! It's already 4 PM." Damian announced.
Jason glanced at a clock for the first time. "Okay, so maybe not so bright."
"Well, we've got to find Dick." Tim got up off the couch, willing his hangover away. There was work to be done!
Damian crossed his arms. "I'm not helping. You two lost him; you two can find him."
Jason's eyes narrowed. "Listen, you little shit, I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation. Bruce will go ballistic if he finds out anything happened to Dick."
"But I'm his son," Damian scoffed.
"So is Dick. So are all of us." Jason replied. "But no one messes with Daddy's firstborn and expects to get out unscathed."
"Fine. I will work with you two imbeciles just this once."
"Maybe we should start with those bats," Tim suggested. "You think they came from the zoo?"
So Dick is the missing "Wolf Pack" member because DeathwishJV requested some Tim-Jason-Damian bonding. I hope this can live up to your expectations, JV. And someday, I promise, the boys will do something outside!
If anyone has any drunken antics they would like to share (well, things that happened to your friends because I'm sure none of you ever over-imbibe), send me a message or post in the comments. I'm all ears!