Dick's burst of wild energy was still riding high, and sparks shone in his bright blue eyes. Everything Tim suggested, Dick threw himself into with the unrestrained passion of a wild man.
Dick and Tim were currently spray painting a public mural set up in the middle of the park. The mural, a large stone slab owned by Wayne Enterprises, looked different every day, as anyone was encouraged to add their artistic flair to the work of art.
Dick laughed maniacally as he sprayed paint in every direction, Tim laughing as he added dark flairs to the edges of Dick's technicolor explosion. As Dick threw his head back in unrestrained exuberance, Tim felt something loosen inside him, and Timmy Drake became a little less of a front and a bit more heartfelt.
"Hey, Dick!"
"Yes, Tim?!"
"You ever fed the ducks?"
"No!"
"Follow me!" Tim set a breakneck pace for the nearest vender to purchase some bread before leading Dick in a sprint down to the pond. Tim handed Dick some bread, and demonstrated tossing bits of the loaf to the eager bills below.
"Their heads are green!" Dick squealed, seemingly tickled to death at the revelation. "What else can we do?"
Tim cocked his head in consideration. "Weellll…"
Dick would be better at laser tag if he didn't keep laughing so often. It hurts their stats as a team, but with Tim to cover his back, he does work pretty well as bait.
Dick gives a monumental war cry as he engages in a suicidal all-or-nothing charge at the blue team's base. An odd strategy, given that he and Tim and already winning, but Tim obediently follows him in guns blazing.
He and Tim wind up pinned down under enemy fire, Tim desperately trying to avoid being hit long enough to return fire. Dick rubs his forehead with a grimace, and at Tim's concerned glance, he shrugs.
"Got the pain again, I guess," he whispers, "but I'm not gonna let it stop us."
Tim smiles, hides everything but pride, and nods at his partner. "Let's go get 'em."
Dick almost bursts down the doors to Wayne manor in his exuberance to reach his brothers.
"Jason, Jason, Damian, Damian! Guess what happened! I went to war today and Tim and I won!"
Damian looked up from his place on the couch, and Jason jogged into the room, eyes darting over Dick and Tim when the older teen entered. Then Jason and Damian looked at each other, Damian resting The Art of War in his lap.
"War, huh?" Jason ventured hesitantly.
Dick nodded enthusiastically, rushing forward to demonstrate his shooting posture as he aimed at imaginary targets around the room. "We went pewpewpew and pewpewpew and we were the red guys and we ran at 'em like this!"
Jason and Damian stared in wide-eyed amazement as Dick did a backflip off a chair, landing to aim his gun at more 'enemies'.
"He is this excited after a day with Drake?" Damian mouthed, confusion, revulsion and jealousy playing across his face.
"Dick's been working on his gymnastics," Tim smirked as he leaned against the doorway. "They come in handy in laser tag. You can take the kid out of the you-know-where…"
Jason and Damian stared aghast as Dick did a forward roll to land in front of Tim, continuing to point his gun.
"I'm a natural."
Jason laughed, moving forward to pick Dick up and throw him in the air. "You sure are, buddy! I bet the other team was super scared of you!"
Dick laughed. "Yeah! And guess what! I got to eat at a restaurant! We had all the root beer floats we could eat and it was called… uh… Red Robins!"
"Drake!"
"Really, Timmy?"
Tim shrugged. As long as he took the initiative and introduced Dick to Red Robins first, he held the upper hand.
"What else are we gonna do today?!"
The three older boys exchanged glances over Dick's head.
"Well, Richard," Damian began, "I do not suppose you have ever experienced a karaoke party?