SPOILER ALERT! Don't read further if you plan to read "MoD 1: Stranger in my Skin".

Although I am posting the whole chapter, only the second half of it was needing rewritten. This is the first version of Ch. 18 from "Strangers in my Skin". This story was supposed to be a lighthearted comedy, but in bottom of this chapter something went dark.

MoD 1: Stranger In My Skin - "Mean Drunks"

Warning: Some Language . . . Rating "T"


By the time Dick and Wally had reached the town, it was time for the first movie to start. It was called 'Attack of the Zombie Bride', and was about a bride who was turned into a zombie and went around eating her wedding party. It sounded a little lame, but it had zombies, so they went and had a blast, throwing popcorn at the screen whenever the bride caught one of her bridesmaids. The bride was dead and dragged a foot behind her; how the heck could she possible catch healthy, living people with two good feet?

Dick only caught Wally staring at him once, but it was more because he had his sunglasses off in the theater. The movie was dark over all, but a few scenes provided enough light to get a decent glimpse of his face. Dick didn't look at his friend. It was bad enough, he supposed, that Wally was seeing his eyes in profile.

"Wally, quit staring at me," he whispered loudly. "You're creeping me out."

"Sorry, Rob," Wally leaned over to whisper in his ear. "But you've got some amazingly long lashes. It almost looks like those Hollywood fake lashes. Were they that long before . . . you know?"

"No," Dick sighed. "Please, don't make me have to put my sunglasses on in here. I won't be able to see the movie."

"Oh, right! Sorry, Dudette." Wally started munching on his popcorn again.

Since the next movie was about a vegetable that ate Manhattan, they decided to go to the pizza parlor a couple of blocks from the theater while they waited for the next movie to show. Dick was laughing; forgetting for a moment his problems; even that he was a girl. He was enjoying himself with his best friend and that was all that was important. Wally threw a mushroom at Dick, and Dick bent his head and caught it in his mouth. Wally fell over laughing.

After a little while, the waitress came over and dropped the check in front of Wally, instead of placing it in the center of the table.

"I'll be your cashier whenever you're ready," she told him. "Or you can pay at the register as you leave."

Dick gaped at her retreating back, but Wally was snickering as he pulled out his wallet.

"Wait a minute," Dick said, reaching for the check. "How much is it? What do I owe?"

Wally just shook his head, grinning. "Don't worry about it, Rob," he told his friend, sliding the bill out of Dick's reach. "I've got this one. It's on me."

Dick frowned at him. "But that's not fair. We always split the ticket when we go out."

"That's because when we normally go out together, it isn't a date. The waitress, however, thinks that this is." Wally cracked up at the look on Dick's face. "Yeah, yeah, I know it isn't. But we can't disappoint her, can we? Besides, she cute. I don't want her thinking I'm some kind of cheapskate or something in case I decide I want to ask her out later on."

The reminder was brutal and embarrassing. A huge blush crept up Dick's face.

"O-okay," he sighed. There was no sense in arguing about it here. "But keep the receipt, and I'll reimburse you for my half when we get back to the mountain."

Wally grinned at him. "You're a pal."

Dick rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. "Yeah, whatever."

"I don't suppose you'll let me go up and pay by myself," Wally asked. "Maybe I can get her phone number."

Dick blinked at him, a little offended in spite of himself. "You're going to try to pick her up while in the middle of a date with me? Seriously, Dude. That's lame, even for you."

Wally leaned over and pinched his cheek, teasingly, and Dick slapped his hand away. "Don't be hatin', girlfriend. I'll just casually mention that you're my cousin in visiting from Minnesota, and my dad wanted me to take you out and show you a good time while you were here."

"And you think she'll buy that?" Dick looked at him skeptically. "We look nothing alike. And who says I want to be related to you, anyway?"

"Would you rather be my girlfriend?" Wally snickered, enjoying his friend's discomfort. What were best buds for, anyway if not for a few good laughs? He stood up; his wallet and the check in hand.

Dick huffed. "Well, since you put it that way."

"Look, I'll return the favor if ever I get turned into a girl, okay," Wally smirked.

"Whatever, man. I'll meet you outside. I need to go to the bathroom." Dick waved the Cretin away.

Wally started to turn away, but stopped abruptly. The smirk on his face turned decidedly evil. He leaned down to whisper in Dick's ear.

"And which bathroom would that be," he asked casually. "The men's or the ladies?"

The blush and all the normal coloring in Dick's face drained away in an instant. It was probably a good idea that he was sitting down because he would have likely swooned like a freaking damsel in distress so fast did the blood leave his head. The restaurant spun a bit. He shook his head to clear it.

"Oh shit!" Dick glanced up at Wally. "I totally forgot. We were even talking about my being a girl and I still forgot about it! How messed up is that?"

Wally had to put a hand on the back of the booth to keep from falling on the floor, he was laughing that hard. "This is why I love hanging out with you! You are so damned entertaining!"

"I can't go into the ladies' room," Dick squeaked. "I just can't do it!"

Wally wiped his streaming eyes with the back of his hand as he caught his breath. "Well, how bad is it? Do you want to go back to the mountain? I can probably run you there and back without missing more than the opening credits of the next movie."

"It's not bad yet," Dick grumbled. "Look, go on and pay. I'll be up in a second."

As Wally walked away, Dick picked up his cardigan. He didn't need it inside, but outside was getting cold now that the sun was fully down. But then again, it was the end of October. He supposed they were lucky it was as mild as it was.

Dick stood up and started to put on the sweater when it was pulled out of his hands. He turned around and found himself staring at a broad chest coated in a flannel shirt. He glanced up at the dark-haired guy in front of him, and then peeked around to count two more guys as equally as tall and broad as the first.

"Um, do you mind?" Dick held out his hand. "I'd kind of like to have my sweater back."

"What's your name, pretty lady," the first guy asked. He made no move to give Dick the sweater back.

Dick blew out his breath, frustrated. "Seriously? That's your best pick up line? Are you really so hard up that you have to resort to holding girls' belongings ransom just to get them to give you their names?"

The look on his face as his buddies laughed at his expense made Dick regret giving the Neanderthal's ego a figurative black eye. But he didn't want to lose the cardigan. Not only did he not know if M'gann could reconstruct Bruce's sweatshirt without it; it was cold outside.

"Come on, guy," Dick smiled. "Just give me my sweater."

"Not without a name," he insisted.

Dick looked back over his shoulder at Wally. The redhead was smiling and chatting their waitress up.

Bruiser moved around Dick, blocking his view of Wally. "Your boyfriend looks like he's found someone else to keep him warm tonight." He leaned in, grinning. "You don't need your sweater to keep you warm. I'll be glad to do it for you. You can wear me instead."

"Ew! Oh God, how do I get that visual out of my head now?" Dick probably shouldn't have said that out loud. "Uh, I mean look, I'm too young for you, dude. I'm just thirteen. Jailbait, you know?" These guys looked early twenties, at least.

"Right." The fellow didn't know how to take no for an answer. "Your name."

Dick's shoulders slumped. "Robin, okay? My name is Robin." Thankfully, there wasn't a way for any of them to connect a female named Robin to the male hero Robin of Batman and Robin fame.

"Such a pretty, little bird," he said, pleased with his attempted wit. "You want your sweater back?" He waited until Dick had nodded to continue. "Then turn around and allow me to be gentlemanly and help you with it."

The last thing Dick wanted to do was to turn his back on these assholes. "Why can't you just give it back to me? Why do you have to be such a jerk about it?"

The guy grabbed Dick's arm hard enough to leave bruises and jerked him around to face the table.

"Hey! Ow . . ." Dick glared over his shoulder at the man.

What was this guy's problem? Didn't he see the people that were still in here? All of them potential witnesses if Dick chose to press charges of sexual harassment, and assault and battery. He now had the bruises to prove it. Dick looked around at the occupied tables. It was getting late, so there were only three tables that still had customers at them. None were looking in his direction, however. In fact, they were studiously looking in the opposite direction; like they knew who this guy was and didn't want to get involved.

Great, he thought. I'll get my cardigan back, and then if the guy doesn't back off, I'll do something about it myself.

The guy physically guided Dick's arm into one of the sleeves. Dick raised the other arm up expectantly, so that his touching it didn't become necessary, but the guy grabbed the other arm as well and held it as he slid the other sleeve on. He slid his hands up and over Dick's shoulders as he tugged the cardigan up. Then, before Dick could turn around, the guy slid his hands around Dick's waist, and pulled his back against his front hard.

Dick gasped. What the hell?!

"Hey! Get off of me!" he yelped, shoving an elbow back into the cretin's stomach.

He grunted, but continued to hold on.

"Let go!" Dick stomped his boot onto the guy's insole. His hold loosened, and Dick turned around to shove at him. His eyes widened when the big fellow didn't budge and inch. Dick knew he was in trouble when the fellow started laughing. It wasn't a good laugh.

"Uh oh," he said, under his breath.

He was gauging how much he could do as a civilian to defend himself when the guy was suddenly no longer there. Dick looked and found his assaulter lying on top of the other two on the floor. Wally was abruptly standing in between Dick and the other three.

"Are you okay," the speedster asked him. The redhead looked furious.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks," Dick said. His heart was pounding, but he was okay. "Where have you been?"

Wally threw him a disgusted look. "I was over there flirting like an imbecile while these three morons were assaulting you. Why didn't you yell for me or something? I just turned around to see what was taking you so long only to find that guy all over you."

"I thought I could handle it, okay? I was trying not to make a scene. It just got out of hand really fast." Dick told him, tugging on his arm. "Come on, let's go before the movie starts."

"Next time, would you please just make a damned scene, all right?"

Wally glared at the three men as they climbed to their feet before taking Dick's arm and pulling him toward the exit. It wasn't until they were outside that either of them breathed a sigh of relief. They began to walk in the direction of the theater when the door to the restaurant slammed closed.

"Hey! We weren't finished yet, little bird."

Dick and Wally's eyes met. Well, damn, it didn't look like they were going to get to see that second movie, after all.


These guys hitting on Robin were trouble with a capital T. I honestly didn't think much about it until I got started writing the next chapter. I followed the setup from here and have no idea what was going through my head. I was in the zone, so to speak, and my fingers just kept typing and following the most probable course . . . Needless to say, I couldn't publish it at all! I needed happy drunks - not mean and vile drunks!