Disclaimer: Nightwing/Dick Grayson does not belong to me. I just play with his head.
Special thanks to our neighbors and their electric violin for inspiring this story.
************
Beauty Rest
by blakdove
Don't get me wrong. I love being Nightwing. I mean, it's such a huge part of my life. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I couldn't be Nightwing anymore, actually. But it does have its downsides.
For instance: sleep. Once you've become a superhero, you can say goodbye to your prescribed eight hours. Heck, I'm lucky if I get five. On those days, Dick Grayson is a very, very happy man. But those days are rare, and today is definitely NOT one of those days.
Nope, definitely not. This week, all the lowlife in Bludhaven decided to crawl out and party, so I've been out on patrol as late (or as early?) as five in the morning. Lucky me. And, fo course, I have to be up at 6:30 to go to work.
"Grayson, you need sleep," my partner, Amy, told me. Thank you, Captain Obvious, I thought. I've seen myself in the mirror, and it's scary. When you're not getting any sleep, personal hygiene is not very high on the priority list. Don't worry, I still showered. I just haven't shaved and look like Clint Eastwood with his constant 5 o'clock-of-the-day-after shadow.
Coffee had become the nectar of the gods, and I have seriously considered hooking myself up to a coffee I.V. Mmmmm, caffeine.....
However, I digress. As I was saying, today is not one of those days when I've gotten any sleep. In fact, last night I didn't get to sleep at all. But tonight is a different story.
Today, Bludhaven is quiet. As Dick Grayson, the rookie cop wonder, I busted up a robbery that would have flopped anyway. For crying out loud, the bad guy had a friggin NAMETAG on. I wonder about people sometimes. Anyway, there was him and a couple of jaywalkers, and for the rest of the day Amy and I sat in the car, with me chugging coffee, of course.
Then I came home and changed into my Nightwing suit. There weren't any major deals or anything about to go down that I knew of, but I decided I'd go out and patrol for a while anyway. Even after dark, Bludhaven was quiet. There was a break-in in progress and a little gang squirmish. Not enough to even break a sweat. So after I busted those up, I stuck around long enough to see that everything was relatively quiet, and headed home.
YES!!!! HOME!!!! SLEEP!!!! I practically ran into my apartment, threw on a semblance of pajamas, and brushed my teeth. In bed by 1 am. This was new, and I was lovin' it.
SLEEEEEEEP!!! I flopped on the bed. I love you, bed, I thought. I wrapped the covers around myself and was gone.
Suddenly, BAM! The sound of my neighbor slamming his door jolted me awake. I looked at the clock. I'd been asleep for 10 minutes. Damn neighbor, I thought. But I didn't dwell, I just lay back down and closed my eyes and got ready for a trip to Dreamland.
Yeah, like THAT was gonna happen. As soon as I closed my eyes, my stupid neighbor started yelling at his girlfriend. The girlfriend was apparently as ticked off as he was, and yelled back. For a good half-hour they exchanged pleasantries like this. I was about to go over and see if everything was alright, when they decided to make up. I heard them both crying and telling each other how much they loved each other. Then they got quiet for a little while. I sighed with relief and settled deeper into my covers.
Then I heard the unmistakable sound of, um, well, you know. What people do? Where babies come from? The birds and the bees and all that junk, y'know? Yep. The bed was definitely creaking, and they were DEFINITELY enjoying themselves.
ARG! Great. On the ONE night when I can get some sleep, my neighbors decide to get all...ugh. I don't even wanna think about it. I wrapped the blanket around my head and tried to block it out, but then they started REALLY enjoying themselves.
I decided I really didn't need to know what my neighbor's girlfriend called him in the throes of passion, so, grumbling, I took my blanket and moved to the livingroom. The couch, I thought, was a respectable substitute for a bed. Anyway, I was so tired I figured I could sleep anywhere.
I settled on the couch and checked the clock. 2:47 a.m. Still plenty of time to get some good shut-eye. I wriggled in the covers to settle in, sighed contentedly and was gone faster than a speeding bullet.
I woke up to what sounded like a cat being mauled. Disoriented, I shook my head to clear it and identified the sound as coming from my other next door neighbor. She decided that 3 a.m. was th perfect time to practice that stupid electric violin of hers. I don't know if you've ever heard an electric violin. It sounds AWFUL. It has no dynamics, and she was continuously off-key. To top it off, she was playing along with Incubus. The effect was appalling.
"Screech, screech, SCREEEEEEEEECH!!!" went the electric violin. "Boom, boom, boom!" went the stereo that my neighbor was playing along with. "@$%, @#$%, @#$%!" was going a very tired and very, very displeased Dick Grayson next door.
Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I pulled on some pants and marched myself out the door and straight over to hers. I knocked. Then I knocked again. Finally I pounded on the door. The damn violin finally stopped, and some seconds later the door opened to reveal my somewhat scantily clad next door neighbor clutching that veritable implement of torture.
"What?" she snapped. 'Jeez, what's HER problem?' I thought. 'SHE's not the one trying to sleep.' "I'm sorry, I said, but could you please, PLEASE turn that thing down? I've got to get some sleep," I pleaded. If she asked me to fall on my knees and lick the floor, I would have, I was so friggin tired.
She didn't even answer! She just slammed the door in my face, but didn't start with the violin.
Alright! I thought heading back to my apartment. Then I saw that something was very, very wrong.
My door was closed. That doesn't sound like much of a problem, but my door locks automatically. Yelping, I ran to the door and tugged at the knob. Yep. It was locked alright. So I did the only reasonable thing I could think of.
I started banging on the door. As if someone was inside and could open it for me. Hey, can you blame me? This was my one night to get some rest and the world was against me! Finally, I realized just how idiotic I was being and stopped. I suppose I could have tried to pick the lock, but I was so sleep deprived that logical ideas like that just didn't occur to me.
Well, what's a guy to do? I decided I would sleep right here on the landing. Sure, it was cold and hard and uncomfortable, but I was so tired that as soon as I lay down on my welcome mat, I was out like a light. My troubles, it seemed, were finally over.
HA! You didn't fall for that one, did you?
I was jolted awake by the sounds of a boombox being played somewhere downstairs. Then I heard laughing and yelling. Someone was obviously having a party. At 4 a.m.. On a Thursday. Like I said, sometimes I wonder about people.
It sounded like a good party, too. The music, at least, was decent. Well, maybe that was just because it didn't sound like a dying cat this time. The partygoers were yelling and talking and laughing. And throwing stuff. And overall sounding like they were having a blast. I, on the other hand, was not having a good time at all. I was trying to sleep, dammit!
I marched downstairs to the second floor. The door of one of the apartments there was flung open and the music was blasting and the people were drinking and partying inside and out on the landing and on the stairs. Someone handed me a beer. I tried asking them to keep it down, but my voice was drowned out by their noise, so I went inside the apartment, located the boombox, and turned it off.
Suddenly everyone turned to stare at me, and they did NOT look pleased. "Uhhh...I was, uh...just....uh...could you please keep it down?" I finally managed as the crowd started closing in on me ever so slowly. An empty beer bottle flew by, missing my head by an inch. I decided not to stick around after that and dashed out of the apartment and into the street.
Great, Grayson. Your door is locked and half the building is out to get you. Now what?
Then I had a great idea. There was a fire escape a few feet away from me. Rejoicing, I ran to it and began to climb until I reached the windows of my apartment. Fortunately, they were unlocked and I slipped inside.
I listened. It was QUIET! The violin girl finally decided to give it up, and my neighbor and his girlfriend were apparently spent. I made my way into the bedroom and collapsed on my bed. 5 a.m. Some sleep is better than no sleep, I figured, and fell asleep. And then....
"Rrring! Rrrring!" The phone. That did it. I picked up the receiver and dropped it back on the cradle. After a moment's hesitation, I yanked the phone's cord out of the phone jack, and, satisfied, fell back asleep only to be wakened in half an hour by my alarm.
I bolted upright in my bed, grabbed the alarm, and yanked it out of the socket. Not satisfied, I hurled it against the wall. It hit with a thunk. I got up and grabbed it and started smashing it against the wall. Take that! And that! And that! The alarm clock suddenly morphed into my neighbors and the partyers downstairs. I smashed harder, pounding in all their faces for waking me up on the one friggin night I could sleep.
When the alarm was nothing but a bunch of colorful wires with chips of plastic, I stopped, panting. I dropped the alarm clock on the floor and gave it one last kick before returning to bed.
Vengeance was mine at last.
Special thanks to our neighbors and their electric violin for inspiring this story.
************
Beauty Rest
by blakdove
Don't get me wrong. I love being Nightwing. I mean, it's such a huge part of my life. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I couldn't be Nightwing anymore, actually. But it does have its downsides.
For instance: sleep. Once you've become a superhero, you can say goodbye to your prescribed eight hours. Heck, I'm lucky if I get five. On those days, Dick Grayson is a very, very happy man. But those days are rare, and today is definitely NOT one of those days.
Nope, definitely not. This week, all the lowlife in Bludhaven decided to crawl out and party, so I've been out on patrol as late (or as early?) as five in the morning. Lucky me. And, fo course, I have to be up at 6:30 to go to work.
"Grayson, you need sleep," my partner, Amy, told me. Thank you, Captain Obvious, I thought. I've seen myself in the mirror, and it's scary. When you're not getting any sleep, personal hygiene is not very high on the priority list. Don't worry, I still showered. I just haven't shaved and look like Clint Eastwood with his constant 5 o'clock-of-the-day-after shadow.
Coffee had become the nectar of the gods, and I have seriously considered hooking myself up to a coffee I.V. Mmmmm, caffeine.....
However, I digress. As I was saying, today is not one of those days when I've gotten any sleep. In fact, last night I didn't get to sleep at all. But tonight is a different story.
Today, Bludhaven is quiet. As Dick Grayson, the rookie cop wonder, I busted up a robbery that would have flopped anyway. For crying out loud, the bad guy had a friggin NAMETAG on. I wonder about people sometimes. Anyway, there was him and a couple of jaywalkers, and for the rest of the day Amy and I sat in the car, with me chugging coffee, of course.
Then I came home and changed into my Nightwing suit. There weren't any major deals or anything about to go down that I knew of, but I decided I'd go out and patrol for a while anyway. Even after dark, Bludhaven was quiet. There was a break-in in progress and a little gang squirmish. Not enough to even break a sweat. So after I busted those up, I stuck around long enough to see that everything was relatively quiet, and headed home.
YES!!!! HOME!!!! SLEEP!!!! I practically ran into my apartment, threw on a semblance of pajamas, and brushed my teeth. In bed by 1 am. This was new, and I was lovin' it.
SLEEEEEEEP!!! I flopped on the bed. I love you, bed, I thought. I wrapped the covers around myself and was gone.
Suddenly, BAM! The sound of my neighbor slamming his door jolted me awake. I looked at the clock. I'd been asleep for 10 minutes. Damn neighbor, I thought. But I didn't dwell, I just lay back down and closed my eyes and got ready for a trip to Dreamland.
Yeah, like THAT was gonna happen. As soon as I closed my eyes, my stupid neighbor started yelling at his girlfriend. The girlfriend was apparently as ticked off as he was, and yelled back. For a good half-hour they exchanged pleasantries like this. I was about to go over and see if everything was alright, when they decided to make up. I heard them both crying and telling each other how much they loved each other. Then they got quiet for a little while. I sighed with relief and settled deeper into my covers.
Then I heard the unmistakable sound of, um, well, you know. What people do? Where babies come from? The birds and the bees and all that junk, y'know? Yep. The bed was definitely creaking, and they were DEFINITELY enjoying themselves.
ARG! Great. On the ONE night when I can get some sleep, my neighbors decide to get all...ugh. I don't even wanna think about it. I wrapped the blanket around my head and tried to block it out, but then they started REALLY enjoying themselves.
I decided I really didn't need to know what my neighbor's girlfriend called him in the throes of passion, so, grumbling, I took my blanket and moved to the livingroom. The couch, I thought, was a respectable substitute for a bed. Anyway, I was so tired I figured I could sleep anywhere.
I settled on the couch and checked the clock. 2:47 a.m. Still plenty of time to get some good shut-eye. I wriggled in the covers to settle in, sighed contentedly and was gone faster than a speeding bullet.
I woke up to what sounded like a cat being mauled. Disoriented, I shook my head to clear it and identified the sound as coming from my other next door neighbor. She decided that 3 a.m. was th perfect time to practice that stupid electric violin of hers. I don't know if you've ever heard an electric violin. It sounds AWFUL. It has no dynamics, and she was continuously off-key. To top it off, she was playing along with Incubus. The effect was appalling.
"Screech, screech, SCREEEEEEEEECH!!!" went the electric violin. "Boom, boom, boom!" went the stereo that my neighbor was playing along with. "@$%, @#$%, @#$%!" was going a very tired and very, very displeased Dick Grayson next door.
Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I pulled on some pants and marched myself out the door and straight over to hers. I knocked. Then I knocked again. Finally I pounded on the door. The damn violin finally stopped, and some seconds later the door opened to reveal my somewhat scantily clad next door neighbor clutching that veritable implement of torture.
"What?" she snapped. 'Jeez, what's HER problem?' I thought. 'SHE's not the one trying to sleep.' "I'm sorry, I said, but could you please, PLEASE turn that thing down? I've got to get some sleep," I pleaded. If she asked me to fall on my knees and lick the floor, I would have, I was so friggin tired.
She didn't even answer! She just slammed the door in my face, but didn't start with the violin.
Alright! I thought heading back to my apartment. Then I saw that something was very, very wrong.
My door was closed. That doesn't sound like much of a problem, but my door locks automatically. Yelping, I ran to the door and tugged at the knob. Yep. It was locked alright. So I did the only reasonable thing I could think of.
I started banging on the door. As if someone was inside and could open it for me. Hey, can you blame me? This was my one night to get some rest and the world was against me! Finally, I realized just how idiotic I was being and stopped. I suppose I could have tried to pick the lock, but I was so sleep deprived that logical ideas like that just didn't occur to me.
Well, what's a guy to do? I decided I would sleep right here on the landing. Sure, it was cold and hard and uncomfortable, but I was so tired that as soon as I lay down on my welcome mat, I was out like a light. My troubles, it seemed, were finally over.
HA! You didn't fall for that one, did you?
I was jolted awake by the sounds of a boombox being played somewhere downstairs. Then I heard laughing and yelling. Someone was obviously having a party. At 4 a.m.. On a Thursday. Like I said, sometimes I wonder about people.
It sounded like a good party, too. The music, at least, was decent. Well, maybe that was just because it didn't sound like a dying cat this time. The partygoers were yelling and talking and laughing. And throwing stuff. And overall sounding like they were having a blast. I, on the other hand, was not having a good time at all. I was trying to sleep, dammit!
I marched downstairs to the second floor. The door of one of the apartments there was flung open and the music was blasting and the people were drinking and partying inside and out on the landing and on the stairs. Someone handed me a beer. I tried asking them to keep it down, but my voice was drowned out by their noise, so I went inside the apartment, located the boombox, and turned it off.
Suddenly everyone turned to stare at me, and they did NOT look pleased. "Uhhh...I was, uh...just....uh...could you please keep it down?" I finally managed as the crowd started closing in on me ever so slowly. An empty beer bottle flew by, missing my head by an inch. I decided not to stick around after that and dashed out of the apartment and into the street.
Great, Grayson. Your door is locked and half the building is out to get you. Now what?
Then I had a great idea. There was a fire escape a few feet away from me. Rejoicing, I ran to it and began to climb until I reached the windows of my apartment. Fortunately, they were unlocked and I slipped inside.
I listened. It was QUIET! The violin girl finally decided to give it up, and my neighbor and his girlfriend were apparently spent. I made my way into the bedroom and collapsed on my bed. 5 a.m. Some sleep is better than no sleep, I figured, and fell asleep. And then....
"Rrring! Rrrring!" The phone. That did it. I picked up the receiver and dropped it back on the cradle. After a moment's hesitation, I yanked the phone's cord out of the phone jack, and, satisfied, fell back asleep only to be wakened in half an hour by my alarm.
I bolted upright in my bed, grabbed the alarm, and yanked it out of the socket. Not satisfied, I hurled it against the wall. It hit with a thunk. I got up and grabbed it and started smashing it against the wall. Take that! And that! And that! The alarm clock suddenly morphed into my neighbors and the partyers downstairs. I smashed harder, pounding in all their faces for waking me up on the one friggin night I could sleep.
When the alarm was nothing but a bunch of colorful wires with chips of plastic, I stopped, panting. I dropped the alarm clock on the floor and gave it one last kick before returning to bed.
Vengeance was mine at last.
