Dick pulled up his hood and pouted at the sky as the shuttle turned around behind them. "Rain, rain, go away," he shook an imperious finger at the sky. "Come back in no less than seven days." The flat gray ceiling had started spitting water as soon as they'd crested the last ridge and begun their descent to the end of the road, and he wasn't happy about it. It had been gloriously sunny at the visitor's center and through the first hour of their drive, so why, he griped, did it have to be raining here?

"It's okay," Tim opined as they headed for the protection of a small wooden pavilion. "It's not like we aren't prepared for a drizzle."

"Well no, but..." But I wanted it to be perfect. There were several stream crossings along their path, he knew, and a bad storm could make the trail impassable before they even set out. As if that weren't enough, expressionless clouds like the ones currently overhead never failed to dampen his mood, regardless of the occasion. They reminded him too much of the somber atmosphere that had surrounded the funerals of his parents and, more recently, of Bruce, neither of which were events he liked to recall.

His brother didn't seem to mind the weather, though, and he realized that the only real risk to their enjoyment of the trip was the attitudes they chose to have about it. Shaking his head, he pulled himself back into line as best he could. "Alright," he gave a tiny laugh. "Sorry. I'm done moping."

"Good. You in a bad mood…that's just plain unpleasant."

"Uh-oh," he almost smirked.

"What?"

"You just voiced a Damianism."

Tim wrinkled his nose. "I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear that."

"Really? You can't even agree on one little thing?"

"Well…maybe on that 'one little thing'. But it was a statement of fact, so I'm not sure it counts the same."

"Party pooper." They shrugged off their packs and dropped onto the rough wooden bench. "On a not-Damian-related note, what do you want to do now? Should we get started, or wait for the rain to quit?"

"Hmm…I could eat, to be honest."

His own stomach voiced its approval. "Lunch sounds like a plan."

"I read that there are a couple of camp spots a few hundred yards up the trail. If the rain doesn't let up soon, we could always bunk here tonight and get started in the morning."

It wasn't a bad idea, although Dick hated the thought of losing a half-day at the falls. Then again, he mused, he'd be with Tim either way, and that was the whole point. "Okay. Why don't we walk up and take a look while we eat?" Everything they'd brought for day-time snacking could be managed with one hand, and at least that way they'd be checking out new territory instead of just lounging at the bus stop.

"We can do that. I don't suppose the peanut butter bars are near the top?"

"Are you kidding? They're on top." As the party responsible for figuring out how they would feed themselves for a week in the middle of nowhere, Dick had naturally enlisted Alfred's help. He had been more than willing to assist in the project, and the two of them had spent many weekend afternoons in the kitchen trying recipes and practicing the best way to pack it all. In the end almost every item that had gone into their bear-proof food containers had been lovingly mixed, baked, or dried by the butler. While it was all sure to be delicious, there could be no question that the super-sweet energy bars Tim had asked for were going to be the first things that vanished. "Those things are amazing, I wasn't going to bury them."

"Oh, good. I've been craving them ever since the trial batch."

"Me, too. If I had Wally's metabolism, I'd eat nothing but those."

"Better not introduce him to them. He'll cause a global peanut butter shortage."

"Heh. No kidding." Unscrewing the last security bolt on the 'breakfast and lunch' can, he popped the lid off. "…Hey, what's this?"

"Huh?" Tim leaned in. "Is that a note?"

"Yeah." He unfolded it to find a few lines in Alfred's stately cursive. "'Dear young sirs,'" he read aloud, "'I hope this letter finds you well and with a good start to your journey already under your belts. I have managed to squeeze a little something extra into the bottom of your larder-'"

"Excellent," a murmur came from beside him.

"'-that I think you'll enjoy. However, I must ask that you wait until midway through your adventure to unwrap it.'"

"Damn!"

"'Be safe, make good memories together, and keep yourselves hydrated and fed. I shall know if you fail on that last point.'" Dick laughed. "He would, too. 'Yours faithfully, Alfred.'"

"…Well, I wasn't expecting that."

"Me, either. A surprise, though…huh." Curious, he tucked the note into his pocket and began to stack all of their foodstuffs on the bench.

"Don't do it," Tim warned even as he reached in to help empty the bin. "He'll know. He always knows."

"I'm not going to unwrap it. I just want to…crap." He frowned downward. "He put a piece of cardboard on top of it."

Tim's forehead bumped his cheek as he tried to look, too. "…What's that written on it?"

"'Please do not remove until the 23rd.'"

"Please? He wrote 'please'? Seriously?"

"Yup." With a barrier in place they couldn't even prod the wrapping to try and narrow down the list of possibilities. "I wish I had Uncle Clark's x-ray vision about now."

"You're not the only one. I guess we're stuck waiting until we get to the falls to find out what our surprise is. Although..."

"But what?" Dick felt a flash of hope. If anyone could figure out a way to work around one of Alfred's security measures and not get caught, it was Tim. "Do you have an idea? I think he taped the cardboard in place, so that's going to complicate things."

"...What? Oh. No, I wasn't thinking about that. All he'd have to do would be ask us if we got into whatever it is early and we'd crack, you know. I was just going to say that at least the rain is stopping."

"Oh. You're probably right." Then his brain caught up with the last statement that had been made. "Wait..." Looking up, he spotted a tiny patch of blue, and his outlook instantly brightened. "Oh! The clouds are clearing off? Yes!" If the rain stayed away, they were golden. "Here, let's get this stuff back where it goes so we can hit the trail."

After several fumbling attempts to recreate Alfred's packing methods, they struck on something close to the right arrangement and managed to jam the lid back on the container. A minute later they headed into the trees with their mouths full of peanut butter. "He'd kill us if he knew we were walking and eating at the same time," Tim gave a nervous grin.

"Ooh..." Dick halted as he thought of something. "...If he redid the bear cans, that means he found the marshmallows I packed."

"How did you fit marshmallows in there with all of the other stuff?"

"I put some mini ones in a baggie. They'll be kind of squished, but I thought we could put them on little twigs and cook them over the stove burner."

"...That's both amazing and ludicrous at the exact same time."

"I know, right?! I just hope he didn't pull them out when he found them..." He peeked over his shoulder at the pack on his back, seized by the urge to go through the second container and make sure his secret stash was still there. "He wouldn't, right? He wouldn't take our stuff, even if he didn't approve."

"Now maybe you understand why I went through my inventory every night," Tim said.

"Yeeeah, I totally do. But," he faced forward again, "it's okay. I'll check on them when we stop for the night. If they aren't there, there's not much I can do about it."

"True. Speaking of tonight, do you want to push now that the rain's stopped?"

He tilted his head back. The clouds were scattering faster with each second, leaving a field of cerulean in their wake. "If you're up for it, I am." He ached to be somewhere truly isolated, away not only from everyone they knew but from the whole of humanity. Even Batman's best drones would be hard pressed to find them once they had ventured a mile or two from the road, and while he had no desire to run from their mentor there was something to be said for managing to duck his surveillance on occasion. "Lots of people have slept here," he pressed, "but up there...maybe no one's stayed where we'll stay tonight."

"You don't have to convince me. I'm ready to knock out a few miles."

Dick felt a grin unfurl on his face. "Then let's get walking."

They had decided previously that they would set a slow-to-moderate pace the first day, aware that no number of four-hour hikes on the Manor property could truly prepare them for a week of traversing rugged western terrain. The trail was advertised as a five-day round trip, but he had put in for two extra days on their passes as a precaution. In the best case scenario they would have forty-eight glorious hours to spend at the secluded falls; in the worst, there was cushion time to help them reach their goal without undue strain and stress.

Since they could afford to take things easy and enjoy their surroundings, they did. Their first peanut butter bars were gone before they reached the two small campsites mentioned in their guide, and a mile after that they stopped long enough to each grab another. The air lost its cool edge almost as soon as the sky cleared, and between the heat and their exertions they were quickly made appreciative of the shade provided by the forest. Before long they came upon a few mule deer, who looked up from grazing when they heard the jingling of the bear bells attached to their belts. Tim's camera appeared with lightning speed to capture them while Dick stood by and took in the clever way their ears and tails flicked away flies. Unphased by the low whirring of the shutter, the creatures modeled themselves in their small glen for several minutes before they bounded away on some secret task.

"...Did you get them?" he asked.

"Oh, man...I can't wait to see some of these on the computer. Look."

He gave a low whistle. "That's wicked, right there. Nice shot, bro."

"Thanks. I didn't even get butt this time, can you believe it?"

"Hah! I don't know," he teased. "You didn't show me the other ones."

"There's no butt, trust me. I don't want a reputation as a butt photographer."

"Yeah, I don't blame you. There's only two kinds of butt photographers I've ever heard of; the ones who end up in jail, and the ones who have to make up a fake career to tell their in-laws about at Thanksgiving."

"Hmm...no, I'm definitely good without having either of those problems."

Some of the allure of the deep forest faded two miles from the road when they dipped into their first thicket and stirred up a swarm of mosquitoes. "Ugh, that sound," Tim moaned as an incessant buzzing surrounded them.

"I knew we were forgetting something," Dick grimaced as he swatted a buzzing black dot away from his ear.

"I wondered why we didn't both reek. Now I know the-" He broke off, sputtering.

"...Did you eat it?"

"Don't ask."

Wincing in sympathy, he gestured for the younger man to turn around. He yanked a bottle of bug dope from one of his bag's side pockets, and in a minute he'd sprayed every inch of his brother that he could. "That should help," he promised, then turned the mixture on himself. "...Ah, sweet DEET."

"The biting's stopped, but I wish we could make them shut up."

"I didn't think to pack earplugs. Did you?"

"No. I'll know for next time, though."

"...We could book it." The organic white noise was starting to get to him, too, and they didn't dare risk both losing their heads

"Yeah, let's do that. Just keep your mouth closed. They don't crunch in a good way."

He shuddered. "Got it."

They hustled along until they reached a trickling creek that required nothing more than a weak leap to ford. A steep but short ascent followed, and as they broke out of the brush at the top their plague suddenly abated. The rustling leaves of the well-spaced deciduous giants they'd come into congratulated them, and they stood for a moment to regain their breath.

"...Damn, those things kicked...our asses," Tim panted. "Didn't think we'd need... to run...with these packs on."

"It's weird," Dick puffed back. "They don't really weigh much more than...our costumes...but that was hard."

"Yeah. Maybe...weight distribution?"

"Maybe. Bruce'd know." Straightening, he took a deep, mercifully bug-free breath. "Whew. What'd we just cover, like a half-mile?" Jogging such a short distance was usually nothing, but his legs and lungs were protesting this new exertion. "Felt like more."

"I think it was about a half. If I remember the map right, that stream we crossed was about two and a half or three miles in from the road, so..."

"What's that give us left total, twenty, twenty-one miles?"

"Right around there. Why, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I dunno, are you thinking that in between these trees would make a pretty sweet place to camp?"

"I didn't know you were a mind reader."

"Eh, it comes and goes," he joked. "We'll probably want a little extra time to set up camp tonight, and this is a pretty spot." They had practiced making and breaking camp a dozen times on the front lawn, but there was no predicting what might slow that process now that they weren't surrounded by professional landscaping. Besides, the late-afternoon light was slanting through the canopy at an angle that made a person want to curl up at the base of a tree and bask, and he couldn't imagine a better enticement to stay put.

"We will, and it is," Tim concurred.

"Awesome." Dick hitched his backpack a little higher on his shoulders. "Then let's find ourselves a campsite."

Author's Note: Provided that the power doesn't go out for another three hours this morning (which is the reason I'm posting later than usual), I should have Tim's deer picture up on my blog shortly. Happy reading!