Disclaimer: Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch…

I don't own post-it notes if I did, I'd be as rich as Bruce!

Sorry for the wait guys. Mists is working on something very important in her life. I'll have a lot more time to write next week. So no worries next chapter should be out around Wednesday, ONTO THE FIC!


-Day 1, Week 2: Not Sick, but Not Well-

-Bruce's POV-

Bruce drove Dick home after he and Wally had passed out the previous night. He carried Dick up to his apartment and put him to bed. But not before leaving a post-it note on the man's face that said:

You're Welcome.

Batman

P.S. You owe me a new sofa. Enjoy the hangover.

Early the next morning, Bruce sat down to read the newspaper at the kitchen table.

Alfred had just gotten back from restocking the fridge…again, when the doorbell rang.

"Who could that be this early in the morning?"

Since he had just finished making breakfast, Alfred washed his hands in the sink. He dried them on his apron and then hung it on the hook by the kitchen door.

Bruce listened as Alfred answered the door.

"Hello," said an overly cheerful voice that Bruce knew very well.

"I have an appointment to interview Bruce Wayne this morning. Is he in?"

"Great, just what I need first thing in the morning, the Boy Scout."

Bruce made a disgusted face.

"I'm even calling him that now. Wally's been here too long."

Alfred showed Clark and J'onn, who was disguised as Clark's camera man, into the kitchen.

"Hi Bruce," said Clark as he waved hello.

J'onn nodded his head in greeting as he transformed back into his usual form.

"J'onn. Clark. To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

Clark and J'onn sat down at the kitchen table.

"Just checking up on Wally."

"Shouldn't you be at work right about now?"

Clark smirked, "Well technically I am."

To this Bruce raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

"My excuse at the door wasn't totally false you see. I'm here to interview you about the party you're having in two days."

"Shit! I forgot all about the stupid thing."

Bruce shrugged, "Nothing much to tell. Some of the richest, snobbiest, showboats in all of Gotham will be there. Overall, it's just another pretentious show that I must perform for the sake of appearances."

Clark laughed, "I take it that you don't want me to quote you on that."

Bruce quenched the man's laughter with a fairly intense glare.

This made Clark take an auditable gulp.

Alfred saved Clark from being 'visually skewered alive.'

"Can I get you gentlemen something to eat?"

J'onn spoke up at this point. "Actually, yes. You wouldn't happen to have any..Oreos would you?"

Clark made a disgusted face.

"Eww… J'onn it's 8 in the morning. Wouldn't you like some eggs or toast instead?"

Alfred simply complied with the Martian's request and brought out a full plate.

"No, the cookies will do just fine. Thank you, Alfred."

J'onn started to munch on the Oreos.

Clark just stared at him while Bruce continued to read his paper.

Then the light bulb went off in Clark's head.

"Are you doing this just to piss off Wally when he comes down here?"

The Martian's face stayed completely neutral as he answered,

"Of course not. That would be childish."

An amused snort could faintly be heard from behind the newspaper covering Bruce's face.

Both Clark and J'onn slowly turned to face each other. J'onn had actually stopped mid-nibble. The shock on both Clark's and J'onn's faces was very evident. Each clearly asking the other, 'Did he just laugh?'

Bruce chose that moment to put the paper down. He saw the look the two were giving one another.

Bruce's scowl came right back.

"What?" he asked annoyed.

Clark shook himself out of it. "N-nothing, never mind. So where is Wally this morning anyway? I thought he'd be bouncing off the walls already."

"Well normally he would be, but since he and Dick, my ward, decided to 'get wasted' last night. I doubt the brat will be in very high spirits when he does eventually wake up."

"Speak of the red haired devil, here he comes now."

Wally wheeled himself into the kitchen looking half dead. He had dark circles under his eyes and was as pale as a ghost. He let out a large hacking cough as he paid the others no mind. He just headed straight for the fridge.

"Wally? Jeeze…You look like heck!"

"Of course Clark wouldn't say, 'hell' no swearing for the Boy Scout. Damn it! I did it again!"

Wally just grunted from behind the refrigerator door.

Clark and J'onn turned their accusing eyes on Bruce.

"Are you sure you didn't slip him something because he sent us those QuickTime files of you singing?" asked Clark chuckling a bit from the memory of finding it in his inbox. He must have watched it twelve times before Bruce found a way to delete it.

Bruce glared his response.

"He's telling the truth," said J'onn, "Apparently he witnessed Dick and Wally singing with a CD, while consuming mass amounts of alcohol.

A small smile then appeared on the Martian's face and shot any amount of Bruce's lingering good mood straight to hell.

"I hate mind readers."

"Did I give you permission to read my mind?" asked Bruce darkly.

Clark sighed, not knowing what the two were really on about.

"Come on Bruce, it's not like it's impossible that you could have done that."

Bruce wouldn't even dignify that with a response and got up to get some coffee.

Wally had returned to the table with some milk, a bowl, and a cereal box. He plopped the items down with nary a word. Then he folded his arms and put his head down on the table.

"So Wally," said Clark, "I heard you had a fun night."

A painful grunt was his only response.

J'onn continued to loudly munch on his Oreos.

Clark laughed, "I would have given anything to see that!"

Wally shifted his head and pulled out his right hand and gave Clark the finger.

"Hey! Now that's uncalled for!" exclaimed Clark a little mortified.

"Awww…did Wally offend the…NO! Not again!"

"Actually Master Clark, I was able to record the whole event. I could give you a copy if you like," said Alfred as he finished cleaning up the kitchen.

This time, Wally was the one mortified as his pitiful, whiney groan could be heard by all.

He then proceeded to bang his head against the table a couple of times.

"Payback is a beautiful thing."

All the while, J'onn's munching had become a constant unwavering noise. And it was quickly driving Wally mad.

Wally's head slowly turned up so he could face J'onn.

Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch…

"J'onn…"

"Yes," answered the Martian telepathically so not to interrupt his incessant munching.

Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch Munch…

Wally gave him a glare of Batman caliber.

"I hate you."

J'onn just shrugged with a small smile and continued eating.

Causing Wally to groan, "Now I know what your super-hearing must feel like Clark. Noises are EVIL! I feel like my head is going to explode!"

Wally tried to cover his ears to escape the repetitive mantra of his on-coming insanity.

Clark nearly spit out his coffee as he snorted, "Not really, Wally. I can turn off my super-hearing. I don't think you have that luxury."

His laugher afterwards was pure and musical.

It made Wally want to kill him too.

Instead Wally settled for using his super-speed to steal away J'onn's Oreos, so his nightmare would end.

J'onn, not too pleased with this development, sent Wally a mental image of a Norvarian, Huckleslorp.

Needless to say, the speedster was NOT amused.

Wally went from pale, to green and wheeled out of the room at break-neck speed.

"Gonna hurl monkey chunks!!!" he screamed as he made his way to the bathroom. Sounds of Wally puking in the toilet could be heard from down the hall.

When Clark's laugher subsided, he sighed, "Well I guess he's doing okay, all things considered."

"Yes," said J'onn, "I think we should be leaving about now."

Clark checked his watch.

"Yeah, you're right."

J'onn morphed back into his disguise.

Clark got up and shook Bruce's hand.

"Half of the League will be away for the rest of the week, Bruce. J'onn and I have a big mission on Therale 3 and we need all the people we can get. Mr. Terrific is going to keep an eye on the Watchtower while we're gone."

J'onn got up to shake Bruce's hand as well.

"He is a very capable man. If anything arises, don't hesitate to contact him. Clark and I will be leaving at noon. We shall return in a week or so."

"Come on J'onn," said Clark looking at his watch, "I gotta 'write' up Bruce's party article before we leave."

Alfred showed the two men to the door.

"Tell Wally 'bye' for us too Bruce. And try not to kill each other before we get back. I'll lose the bet then!" said Clark with a laugh as he went out the door.

Bruce grumbled about 'childish behavior' and turned to go to the den and find a good book.


At around three o'clock, Bruce sat in the den and eyed his chess set. Wally was down in the cave working on his 'experiments.' Bruce was actually bored without his incessant chatter. He shrugged and got up to have a game of chess with himself.

About a half an hour in, he heard Wally say,

"Oooo! Chess, can I play?"

Bruce looked up at the speedster with a quizzical expression. The kid was looking a bit better then he had this morning. Though he still looked quite pale…

"Sure. Let's see what you got kid."


-Two Hours Later-

"I can't believe this, not only is the game still going on, but he got my Queen!"

It is said that in chess, the first one to take out the other's queen is like drawing first blood in a duel.

Wally just leaned back in his wheelchair with a satisfied smirk. He took Bruce's black queen and began to spin it like a top on his index finger.

"I believe that is point to me, Sir," said Wally in an overly pompous voice.

"The game's not over yet, brat."

Wally laughed at Bruce's new name for him as Bruce went back to concentrating on the board.

Bruce was focused on creating a fail proof strategy when heard Wally gasp and the chess piece he was spinning fall to the floor.

This startled Bruce. He quickly looked up at Wally. The speedster was sweating bullets and had had placed his hand behind his back.

Something was seriously wrong. Bruce had never seen him look so terrified.

"Wall-"

"Bathroom tim-" he said as he attempted to wheel away.

Bruce caught his arm before he could speed out of the room.

Wally began to breathe heavily.

"Bruce…..huff… Please let … huff…go!"

Bruce's resolve didn't falter.

"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!" he yelled and held the man's arm tighter.

"Bruce! PLEASE! You could-"

"Could wha-"

It was then that Wally's whole body began to shake. Bruce watched horrified as Wally went from pale, to transparent….

"Oh my god…"

"Bruce…huff!...Your molecules could…HUFF!…go too! NOW LET GO!" yelled Wally desperately trying to get away from Bruce.

Bruce loosened his grip, but he didn't dare let go.

"Wally is there anything I can do?"

The speeder panted like he couldn't breathe, his shaking had worsened as he began to flicker in and out.

Speaking was incredibly painful by Wally's tone.

"Get….Ray….huff!…Ray Palmer…he'll…"

Wally then bent over in pain and screamed in agony.

"The Atom?! Never mind, later!"

Bruce pulled out the League communicator the always keep in his pocket and call the Watchtower.

"Priority Override! User code: 001! Mr. Terrific, I need Ray Palmer sent to my coordinates NOW! I don't care if he's teaching a lecture. Beam him here IMMEDIATELY! Batman-OUT!"

"Wally, he'll be here in a moment. Hang on."

Wally couldn't hear Bruce's words. His breathing had become far too rapid. He hung on for as long as he could. Then his eyes rolled back and he passed out.


Author's Note:

"…"

Mists stares at her audience, then runs away and hides under a rock!!!

Please read and Review!