When you run out of ideas, you keep to writing short fics like this. Consider this Just Drive Chapter 5.5.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters.
DC Comics does.
I forgot to mention...I have an Archive of Our Own account now!
The minutes turned to hours as Wally passed out from watching various movies ranging from action/sci-fi to drama/romance. After several bowls of popcorn, fifteen sodas, and many breaks, the Fastest Man Alive was now one of the sleepiest men alive. Alfred spotted the culprit with several kernels of leftover popcorn across his whole attire; he made sure to clean off whatever he could possible before covering the pale-skinned, fiery red haired man in a soft red velvety blanket. Checking that the man was actually sleeping, he then turned his back and proceeded towards the door frame at the end of the entertainment room. With a soft 'click', the lights and the electronics were powered off.
"Alfred." The voice appeared from the shadows lurking near the corner to his left. He was suited up in his standard Kevlar apparel as he approached the nonchalant butler.
"Master Bruce. Your guest is asleep, safe and sound from harm. You know where to find me if you need any help."
"Thank you Alfred."
Batman stalked towards the entrance of the door to find a passed out speedster curled up to one of his pillows on the couch. Bruce allowed himself one minute to take in the sight of the meta-human. The lines of his mouth coiled up into a grin, the way how he managed to seem so content in his slumber despite what the man has gone through, the way his breathing accelerated when—No, Bruce couldn't let his thoughts distract him. He had to prove, once and for all, that this man is The Flash and that Bruce is the Batman. It's not like he would find out anyway—which he will once they all join the Justice League.
He delicately picked up his date, reached in his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a syringe. "This will only hurt for a second." He cooed as he found a vein to inject a patented substance into. With a jerk, Wally's eyes fluttered open at the partial sting from the tip of the needle. "B-Batman? What are you doing here?" He tried to vibrate; soon he realized he was losing strength. "What have you done to me?"
"Just some morphine combined with a nameless sedative to make you pass out for an hour or two."
"Where's Bruce-"the speedster conked out when he tried to utter the final word.
According to Batman, Plan B was a go. All he had to do was find some power-inhibiting restraints in the cave, and another drug in a form of a simple concoction to get the speedster to admit his secret identity.
"Hnng." Wally woke up with a slight migraine as he struggled to open up his eyes; they drooped upon attempting to do so. The last thing he could remember was Batman sticking a freakin' syringe in his veins. After that, he couldn't remember much of everything. Before that, he did recall falling asleep on the couch watching some generic 50s sitcom of some sort. Even farther from that event, he was on a date with Bruce Wayne. 'Was' because he didn't know where the hell he was. Maybe he had to do something real quick and Bats snuck in?
Na. Maybe Bruce was hiding.
Another thought clicked in Wally's mind.
Could Bruce Wayne be Batman? I mean, that rich guy…Ollie, I think…mentioned something along the lines of 'detective'. At first, I didn't think much about it…but now…it could be possible. Rich guy persona but reserved at the same time? Unexpected vacations, injuries, and disappearances for weeks at a time? Sounds familiar considering I take 'vacations' for more than two weeks at a time; depending on the mission another hero needs my help with. Ugh. When is this so-called "League" going to form? I hear from Supes there's talks of one being discussed amongst numerous vigilantes and heroines.
That's a little off off topic...focus on the matter at hand, Wally! Oh, that's right, the detective link between the playboy and the Knight.
Around Gotham, that could mean one of two things: You're either a detective working for GCPD or you're the goddamn Batman. West chose the second option. No way would Bruce Wayne work for the Gotham City Police Department, nor could Batman. Can anyone ever imagine something like that happening in the near future? Impossible, to say at the least, but then again…never mind. Batman would never subject to the laws like that. To be the Dark Knight, you have to take some risks at one point or another. This Wally knew. As the Flash, he had to take risks every day.
Wally mused to himself as he tested his lower leg muscles. Sure enough, they came to. The only thing that concerned him was that his feet never touched solid ground. His arms never collapsed to his sides either. Leave it to the brooding jerk to put restraints on me. Just for enjoyment purposes only, I'm not going to even try vibrating out of this 'trap'. Maybe he wants me to, but he's not going to get his way this time. I'll outsmart him, even though I could have made an attempt to do that before. Why didn't I do that before? AH yes, I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen—at all.
The speedster gently bumped his head against a cool metal slab behind his head. To test that the effects of the drug worn off, and to check to see if he's not lying down (Being drugged can leave a speedster dizzy at times.), he beckoned his head forward. Nope, he left me standing up, with restraints and no freakin' light so I can see where I am.
"Whenever I break free, I'm kicking your ass!" Wally put on his best indignant 'poker face' and continued to shout more obscenities in the bleak abyss. "I know how you are Bats, and I will gladly tell the public of your secret identity if you continue to hold me against my w-!"
A soft moan emitted from the speedsters mouth when teeth grazed just above the sweet spot of his collarbone. The harsh growl of an all-too-familiar voice spoke up. "You're not going anywhere, Flash."