Disneyworld Vacation
Part One, Chapter One
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Dick, Wally, Roy, Bruce, Barry, Ollie, Alfred… well, I don't own anybody. DC Comics does (the stinkers). I don't own Disneyworld either, although I wish I could go back there sometime before I'm thirty. Repeat after me: BEST VACATION EVER! Except for our poor guys… (snicker) So much for the 'vacation' part. Maybe I should have just called it 'Disneyworld'.
NOTE: This is sort of a sequel to "The Sidekick Strike", although this can stand on its own as a story. I do make references to the other fic at times, though. Oh, and since it is done in pretty much the same style as "The Sidekick Strike", parts of this story may sound sixties-ish as well (you know what I mean). If you don't like the sixties version, then leave.
And yes, this one is also before the formation of the Titans. That's just so you don't accuse Wally and Roy of mutiny or anything...
Part One
"So you're half-gypsy?"
The question had come out of seemingly nowhere, startling Dick Grayson into dropping his book onto the desk with a thunk. Although it was the middle of summer vacation, Dick kept up his studies. Bruce Wayne made sure of that. In contrast, Wally's Uncle Barry (who was slightly more normal than Dick's guardian) allowed his nephew to enjoy most of the summer months, with the exception of any summer assignments he may have.
"What did you say?" Dick asked after recovering from the surprise.
"Well, remember that case we solved last month? The one where we saved the Justice League from Joker's hypnosis scheme?"
"How could I forget? That was right after we went on strike! At least they forgave us for the little Batmobile incident… got away practically Scott-free…"
"Yeah. If you can call cleaning the entire Watchtower 'Scott-free'. The JLA still laughs every time they see us, by the way. We're the laughing stock of the greatest group of heroes on Earth!"
"Hey, at least they didn't make us pay for the stuff we—YOU—ran over. And just for the record, I still haven't put you back in my will."
"Are you going to start that again!"
"Wait a second! Who started this argument, anyway?"
"I just asked if you were really half-gypsy!"
"That's ROMANY!"
"WHATEVER!"
The teenagers exchanged glares before going back to their separate projects. About five minutes later, however, Dick gave in and answered in the affirmative.
"Thank you," said Wally.
Another minute or so passed before Dick glanced up from his chemistry book to see what the red-headed thirteen-year-old was doing. He was scribbling something into a notebook, which was fairly unusual as Wally avoided writing things as often as possible. Dick held out for another minute before finally asking what he was up to.
"Summer project," Wally replied, sounding like he really didn't want to talk about it. "We're supposed to write about our best friend."
"And you picked me?" Dick queried, pleased.
"Yeah."
"Because I'm your best friend?"
"No, because Roy's at camp."
"Thanks a lot, Mr. West."
Wally just laughed and said he was kidding, but Dick didn't look half as amused. For whatever reason, he had been extremely touchy lately. He couldn't still be mad about the little Batmobile incident, could he? It wasn't like they had killed anything. Except for maybe that cat on Juniper Street… but they hadn't proved it was dead…
"C'mon, Rob, you know I've got three best friends."
"Three?" Dick inquired as he raised an eyebrow.
"Yup—you, Roy, and…"
"And?"
"…and that cute red-head who hangs out with you on night patrol…"
"Barbara!" Dick yelped. He dropped his book again, only this time it missed the desk and gave his socked foot a good whack.
"OUCH! Holy unexpected—hey, what do you mean, you like Barbara!"
"Oh, sorry. She yours?"
"No!"
Wally just grinned wickedly and began writing in his notebook. Dick glowered and came over to see what Wally was writing. What he saw did nothing to improve his mood.
"I do NOT have a CRUSH on her!" the teenager screamed at the top of his lungs. It came out a little shrill, just because his voice hadn't changed yet, a fact which his friends generally liked to make fun of. "Gimme that page, you idiot!"
Dick made an attempt to grab the notebook, but before he could, Wally had used his superhuman speed to get off the bed and across the room. He stopped near the window.
"You know you aren't supposed to be using your powers out of costume! Now give me that," Dick growled.
"Why? It's my report," countered Wally with a smug grin.
"Then erase that last sentence. Or else."
Wally seemed to think about it for a moment. He ran his tongue over his upper teeth slowly as Dick continued to glower at him with his hand out. Then, he asked, "How much?"
"How much what?"
"How much will you pay me to erase the offending passage?"
"Have you gone crazy?" Dick yelled, suddenly feeling panicked. "I don't have any money!" And that trust fund doesn't count. "Bruce buys me everything I need."
Wally gave him a suspicious look and then muttered something under his breath. He hadn't meant for Dick to hear it, but he did anyway.
"Hey, just because I don't get an allowance doesn't mean I'm lame."
"Dude, even Roy gets an allowance."
Dick continued to glare at Wally. Finally, with a very noisy, melodramatic sigh, Wally went back to the bed, picked up his pencil, and erased what he had written.
"Thank you. And if you dare tell anyone about this little incident, I swear I'll kill you."
Wally just grumbled something else while brushing the pink residue from the eraser off his paper. Onto Dick's bedspread. Wally tried to look innocent, but it wasn't necessary; Dick didn't notice because Alfred—the 'butler'—had appeared in the doorway.
"I apologize for the intrusion, Master Dick, but Master Roy is downstairs waiting to see you."
"Roy?" Dick inquired, raising an eyebrow. Turning to Wally, he added, "I thought you said he was at camp."
"Well, he was."
Shrugging, Dick got up from his chair to follow Alfred back downstairs. Wally came along, too.
Sure enough, there was Roy, pacing the Wayne living room like a caged animal, although the ridiculously large Wayne living room could not be considered a cage in any sense of the word.
"It's about time you got here!" were Roy's first words upon seeing the two boys. "What took you so long?"
"I think the better question is 'why did you get kicked out of summer camp THIS year'?" Wally shot back.
"Very funny," Roy said sourly. "And very insulting, too. Just because I got out of camp early, you automatically think I did something like—like slipping a few teeny-weeny little crickets down the girls' pants or sneaking into the counselors' cabin to plant spiders in all the drawers or—"
"I guess that answers the question," Dick snickered.
"Hey, do you guys want to go to Disneyworld or don't you?" snapped Roy, shooting the now-wide-eyed duo a dirty look.
"Disneyworld!" Wally repeated incredulously.
"Holy theme park!" added Dick.
"Will you shut up with the stupid catchphrases already! We're listening, Roy."
"Ah, but am I going to tell you after the way you treated me?" Roy said teasingly. The other boys went into a round of pleading/threatening before Roy finally declared with a smirk, "I'll tell you once you get down on your knees and apologize."
"Like that's ever gonna happen," Wally snorted.
"Yeah!" Dick agreed. "How do we even know you're telling the truth? You could be lying about the whole Disneyworld thing to get us to make idiots of ourselves, for all we know!"
Roy just feigned a yawn, like he was bored. Then he pulled three small plastic objects out of his pocket and began waving them tauntingly in front of his friends' faces. As the objects blurred past, Dick and Wally identified them as tags, the same kind you put on the handles of your suitcases that say 'If found, please return to…'
And they each had a hologram of Cinderella Castle on them!
"Gimme those!" Wally bellowed. Once again breaking the rules, he used his super speed to reach out and snatch the tags from Roy's grasp.
"HEY!"
"Thanks pal!" Dick giggled as he and Wally examined the tags with interest.
With a long-suffering sigh, Roy relented and finally explained the situation to his fellow sidekicks:
"Alright, so you guessed right—I did get kicked out of summer camp, but I did it on purpose so that I could help Ollie on an important case. Not long after we solved the case, we heard about you two staging that strike and saving the Justice League. Which reminds me. Why did Superman and Green Lantern start laughing when I mentioned the cafeteria smelled like Lysol?"
"Um…" Wally started, obviously at a loss. He exchanged glances with Dick before finishing, "Just continue the story, Roy."
Roy arched an eyebrow. There was obviously a very interesting story there, but since Wally still had his tags…
"Anyway, Ollie's taking me 'and guests' to Disneyworld as a sort of reward for helping with the case. At least that's what he said. I'm guessing he just didn't want me to get any bright ideas about having my own strike. Which I was well into planning, by the way. I decided to invite you dudes because, indirectly, we wouldn't be going if it wasn't for you. And I already checked with Wayne and Allen; they're cool with it."
Dick and Wally exchanged glances once again. Well, here were the tags, and Roy had just come closer to thanking them than he ever had in his life. He must be telling the truth!
"YAHOO! WE'RE GOIN' TO DISNEYWORLD!"
Me: But you know it can't just end there, don't you? I mean, they're superheroes--they can't just have a nice quiet vacation. It's like The Twilight Zone. There's gotta be a catch somewhere.
Dick: Hey, what are you doing back here so fast? I thought I'd at least get a little break from you first!
Me: Like I said, there's always a catch somewhere.
Dick: (long-suffering sigh)
Me: In other news, I lost the Altador Cup, and if you read "The Sidekick Strike", then you'll know about that. Also, in the REAL world, France is gonna play Italy in the finals for the World Cup. Go France! Go Zidane! You show THEM who's too old to play! Ha, ha!
Dick: (to audience) You see, Panamint is the kind of person who should never, ever, ever, ever, EVER be allowed to watch sports...
Me: But I do anyway. Australia so should have won that game against Italy... stupid ref...
Dick: See what I mean?