By Gen X and Recceanna
"What?"
Reccea stared blankly at her Batman fictive. He stood atop of her computer, arms folded, frowning. He rarely ever spoke, and when he did it was usually something derisive about another "inferior" fictive. If it wasn't that it was to yell at her for torturing Dick. Also, since she'd made Roy and Dick fall in love, he'd been grumpier than usual. Batman hadn't been delighted with that bit of literary genius (which was part of the reason why the Guinness pair weren't getting their nookie.)
Batman looked reproachfully at the happy slash couple, then turned scowling bat eyes towards Reccea. Back and forth they darted, so fast that Reccea thought she could feel a headache coming on. "Don't tell me you're jealous," Reccea said.
An annoyed smirk was the only reply she got. "Okay." She rolled her eyes. Batman fictives were notoriously temperamental. "Then what? Seriously. Why do you have your underoos in a twist Mr. Know-it-All?"
The scowl crossed over his face, and the shadows seemed to magically draw around his tiny form. Batman was not amused. Reccea looked at him and opened her mouth to reply but thought better of it. If Bats decided to brood, he'd be up on top of the cabinets sulking for hours, not staring at her reproachfully. Either way, it worked out.
Batman glared, Reccea avoided his glance, and then Kon flew into the computer screen.
Neither Batman nor Reccea looked terribly surprised. Nor did they look worried. They looked... interrupted. Kon fell off the screen and landed behind the keyboard. He popped up, not the least affected by his crash. "You're not going to believe what just happened!" Kon exclaimed.
"Lemme guess," Reccea's Guinness Roy Fictive started to say as he pulled himself onto the computer desk, "you flew into the computer screen."
Kon glared at him.
Roy smirked and added, "Again."
Kon took the mature approach-- against all odds-- and ignored Roy. "I'm serious," he protested to Reccea.
"Well? What's the deal?" Reccea sighed, putting her head in her hands. She was glad for the distraction but worried about the cause of it.
"Bart blew up Noel's computer."
Reccea looked at the tiny fictive skeptically. "Uh huh. When did this happen?"
"Just now!" Kon insisted. "I have proof!"
"Sure you do, kid," Roy said as he laid down atop the mouse pad, working on his halogen tan. "Where is it?"
Roy never knew what fell on him. But the other fictives who had seen the plot hole forming, knew exactly what had happened. They kept from snickering... somehow. Bart Allen was literally dumped out of the black abyss and had fallen, quite accurately, on none other than Roy Harper.
The fictives winced in sympathy for the newly injured archer, then turned curious eyes to the speedster whose hair seemed to be on fire.
Kon triumphantly crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. "Told you."
Reccea, her eyebrows slowly pinching together in horror, studied Bart closely. "You blew up Noel's computer?" she asked softly, wincing.
"Well not on purpose." Bart pinched the small lock of hair that was aflame until the fire went out.
"Of course you didn't do it on purpose. I hope you didn't do it on purpose. Wait, are you hiding here? 'Cause you know she's going to call."
"Well," Kon clarified, "actually, she can't."
Reccea closed her eyes. This was going to be a long day.
"What happened exactly?" Slash Dick hopped down of the bookshelf to land next to the unconscious Roy. He checked Roy over as he waited for either Kon or Bart to reply.
Kon looked at Bart uncertainly. He floated over to Bart and put out a bit of fire on Bart's back. "Well mostly it was Noel's fault."
"Oh, how highly I doubt that," Reccea grumbled.
Ignoring all of them, as Bart tended to do, he nudged Slash Roy with his foot. He looked up at Slash Dick, who was intent on staring on him. "Um... is he okay?"
"I think he'll be fine," Slash Dick answered calmly. "Though he might shoot an arrow into your rear when he wakes up. Now what happened? Impulse? Kon?"
"Well, maybe it would better if Kon told you."
"Me? You're the one that did it!"
"But you saw me do it... er... saw it happen."
Kon sighed deeply. "Okay, fine." He turned to his Writer. "So Noel and Bart were arguing."
"Arguing?" Reccea arched her right eyebrow.
"About some plot bunny," Kon shrugged. "I wasn't paying *that* much attention."
"Really?" Slash Dick piped up, adding his two cents. "You don't pay attention when your significant other argues?"
"Hey, he's got his life. I've got mine."
"Nice." Reccea rolled her eyes.
Bart looked mildly incensed. "I pay attention when you argue," he pointed.
"I'm usually arguing about you!" Kon countered.
"How do you know I wasn't arguing about you? Especially if you weren't listening?" Bart shot back.
Slash Dick stepped between them. "Enough." He turned to Kon. "Explain."
"Shesh, the older you bat guys get the grumpier you become."
"Kon," Dick warned.
"Okay so they were arguing about a plot bunny," Kon continued, grumpily, "and Bart was jumping up and down the keyboard. Which is no big deal, just meant that Noel would have to replace the keyboard and close her word program, because it was going to get all overwhelmed. Typical stuff, no big deal. But then..."
"Then..." Reccea bit her lip.
"Then, outta nowhere, I'm telling you, it was hilarious!"
"No! It wasn't!" Bart protested, "It was mean, and she never should have done it!"
Kon turned to Bart. He cocked his head thoughtfully. "I don't think she meant to. She was just as surprised as you were when he came out."
"He yelled at me. He's always yelling at me. I can't get a moments peace."
"Who?" Slash Dick asked.
"Isn't it obvious?" Recce sighed.
"I hate Batman," Bart grumbled.
Reccea's Batman growled.
But no one noticed... and that... had yet to be determined if it was a bad or good thing.
"So, wait, Batman came out and yelled and this has what to do with no phone lines and a blown up computer?"
"A lot," Kon informed her knowledgeably. "Anyway long story short, somehow (thanks to Bart) the plot bunny got vibrated into the CPU... and it really smells over there now."
Reccea blinked a few times. Dick winced visibly. Batman growled again and Kon grinned helpfully.
"Stay away from my computer," Reccea ordered.
"Hey!" Kon floated up to eye level with Reccea. He was a bit more than insulted. "It's not our fault! Not entirely!"
Batman frowned again, and yes, that deep guttural sound was a growl. Something had definitely had his underoos in a twist today and if Kon wasn't careful, he was bound to be a tension reliever.
"I don't care what you think you did or didn't do," Reccea snapped. "No computer for either of you. Go play fort with Bobby or something." She shook her head.
Roy made a soft groan as he opened his eyes. Dick bent down to him, "You okay?" he asked his lover.
Roy glared past Dick at Bart. "Get me my bow and arrow."
Reccea groaned. "No weaponry!" She called out. She looked around at her fictives. "Gen Roy?"
A young, pre-drug, Speedy poked his head out from under the couch. "Yeah?"
"Take a plot hole over to Noel's and see how she is, okay?"
"No prob, boss lady." And he saluted, before jumping into the inky darkness.
Roy gaped. "Where the hell have you been hiding him?"
"I haven't been hiding him," Reccea shrugged, looking a little guilty. "He's been hiding himself."
"I'll bet," Dick muttered wryly. "Why is he so young?"
Roy frowned. "You're still working on the drug fic. You are one cruel Writer."
"Oh shut up." Reccea looked miserable. She had been proud of her decision of sending Gen Roy. He'd be a good one to scout out the situation. And he was reliable and trustworthy and-– there was a plot hole opening up again.
Reccea closed her eyes, not looking at the reappearing fictive. "What did you forget Roy?"
"Um... I'm not Roy."
"Tim?" Her eyes snapped open. "What are you doing here?"
But the young fictive didn't get a chance to respond as yet another plot hole opened.
Roy-- Noel's adult presumably Slash Roy-- dropped out hollering, "Every man for themselves!"
And plot holes began to open up all around. Reccea managed not to scream or faint but as fictives began to drop out of the holes she was pretty sure that she was going to cry.
Slash Roy and Slash Dick landed with a thud and rolled across atop the desktop. Several small plot holes opened up behind him, dumping a variety of underused and forgotten fictives onto the desk. The leader of the Final Fantasy fictives hefted himself up, looked around, and proclaimed, "Whatever." then lead his posse to a corner of the desk.
Gen Dick fell nearly a foot in midair. A furry paw swiped at him from the plot hole. "They've all gone insane!" he shouted in warning.
The fictives gathered behind the CPU, hiding, and collecting their breath, well at least the ones that belonged to Noel did. The ones that belong to Reccea simply stood around dumbstruck, already planning on rushing to claim their spots from their houseguests. Everyone waited; the assault seemed to be over. Gen Dick went around, taking roll call, as everyone started to relax.
Then a small dark hole opened, and a low growling was heard.
Reccea looked at the small dark hole and quivered. She peered carefully at it. "Tell me Noel's puppy isn't going to take refuge here too," she pleaded quietly. Animals and fictives, Reccea had discovered, do not mix well.
A large, albino rabbit, with glowing red eyes came bounding out of the hole. It growled at the fictives and then it growled at Reccea. Reccea, for her part, fell of her chair and went scrambling behind the piano. "Holy crap! It's a rabid plot bunny!"
"It's Bunnicula!" Kon exclaimed. He skittered around the strange look one of the Roys (he'd lost track of which) was giving him. "After your time man."
The bunny gnarled and hissed. Reccea moved to grab it, but it snapped its teeth almost closing on her finger. She looked at the growing group of fictives. They looked at the bunny. She looked at the bunny. The fictives looked at her.
"What are you waiting for?" Recce exclaimed, trying to poke the bunny with a pencil. "Do something!"
"You're the Writer! We're just fictives!" a Roy exclaimed.
"Yeah, you exorcise it!" Kon hovered behind her head.
"I can't exorcise it!" Reccea looked around for a baseball bat, walking stick, or anything large and wooden.
"Why not?" Bart tilted his head at her. "Noel threatens to kill them all the time."
"I don't kill plot bunnies!" Reccea howled. The bunny snarled viciously. Reccea shrieked.
"No, she runs and hides from it. You know, you can stomp on it, and they kinda get squished," a different Roy added.
"Just be careful that it doesn't bite you," Dick warned. "Then you'll be under its spell."
A very tired, very underused Bobby Drake had finally woken up because of all the noise. He created an ice platform up to the desk. "What is all the commotio-- oh!" He ducked as the bunny leapt it him.
Unfortunately, it landed on the ground, looking pretty undaunted. Reccea hopped up on her chair. One of the Dick Grayson's looked at her. He sighed. "Okay, we have the territory advantage. Let's see what we can do!"
"We could lead it to her room and trap it underneath Laundry Mountain," Kon suggested.
"Or there's always the Paper Mountain Range," Bobby quipped.
"Will you quit mocking my room!" Reccea yelled.
"Enough you guys!" Dick ordered. "We have a serious problem here."
"It's just a plot bunny," Bobby insisted. One moment he was standing on his pillar of ice, the next he was falling through the air, as the bunny gashed at his support. Kon was already on the move to catch him.
Kon swooped in, grabbed Bobby and held onto him. They way he would a damsel in distress, or Bart. Bobby eyed the bunny below. "I thought you stopped collecting pets, Recce."
Warren Worthington the Third, by far one of Reccea's most mysterious fictives flew in the door. He eyed Superboy unhappily and flew quickly over. He held his hands out for Bobby, a menacing look in his eye. Kon took one look at the blue mutant and dropped Bobby into Warren's arms.
"It's not mine!" Reccea protested. "It's Noel's!"
"Sure it is." Bobby wrapped his arms around Warren's neck. "That's what you say about all the plot bunnies!"
Warren shook his head. He didn't want to know.
"Guys!" Dick started to whine at having been ignored this long. "C'mon, we need to strategize!"
"How can you strategize?" Kon rolled his eyes. "It's a rabid beast not a super villain!"
"Do you have any spare cages around here?" another Dick asked.
"Good idea," the original Dick applauded him. Sooner than later, the four Dick Grayson fictives, gen and slash, had broken off into a tiny group and had started brain storming.
The bunny leapt onto the computer desk, hissing and growling at the nearby fictives. Reccea backed up as it made a move to bite her. Its two large teeth missed her arm by mere inches. "Do something!" she cried as she scrambled backwards.
The fictives on the desktop scrambled even as Reccea's Gen Dick took charge. Both Noel and Reccea's Slash Dick were too busying sipping beer on their downtime rather than training. Noel's Gen Dick was too busy bemoaning and whining, which left everyone to be saved by Reccea's embittered, underused, and under appreciated fictive. With nothing better to do (and no fics to star in) he had honed his skills. And now put those skills to use.
"Kon, Warren, fly recon, try to get it's attention while the rest of us regroup," Dick commanded. "Everyone else, meet on the upper level. Iceman, get a wall between us and it." Everyone snapped to attention, never complaining. "If anyone has sleeping gas, now would be the time to use it. Bart!"
"Yeah?"
"Go read what it says."
"Me? Why me? And what to do you mean 'what it says'?"
"Cause it's your fault, and two, you can vibrate so you won't be hurt. Go try to find out what story it wants Recce to write!"
"I don't want to know, I don't want to know. I don't want to know," Reccea chanted steadily under her breath as the fictives got to work. They managed to follow Recce's Gen Dick's orders perfectly, and soon they were relatively safe from the rabid plot bunny.
Well all of them except Bart. He was waiting to read the Bunny's demands. Only the bunny was having trouble typing, rabbit paws not being extremely dexterous. Bart waited. And waited. And waited. And waited some more. Kept waiting. And finally the bunny had finished... one word. Bart sighed.
Of course. He should have known. The only question left to answer, is whether he should tell the truth. Hell, if the fictives knew what the plot bunny demanded, most of them would likely drop their defensive positions by Reccea, and let the damn thing bite her.
After all, they deserved it.
Reccea bit her lip as Bart explained the Bunnys demands. "Oh," was her only reply.
The fictives seemed split on the subject. The fictives that belonged to Noel and had no prior contact with Reccea thought she should submit. The happy fictives belonging to Reccea thought that she should call animal control. And the others, the disgruntled, no-nookie fictives...
They wanted it to bite her.
And considering that the most of the no-nookie fictives had superpowers, while the non nookie caring ones didn't... well things weren't looking that good for Recce, then again, nothing had yet to be put in stone.
There was hope.
Maybe.
Okay, a snowball's chance in hell.
"But I can't!" She whispered quietly, her voice breaking.
"Likely story." Reccea's Slash Roy replied.
"If Noel can write nookie, even with her giggle reflex, then so can you," Noel's Slash Roy commented.
Reccea's Slash Roy scoffed. "That wasn't nookie! That was... a poor excuse for nookie!"
Reccea's Slash Dick piped in his two cents as well. "Exactly! So it doesn't count at all."
Noel's two slash fictives were turning red. Whether it was from embarrassment or anger no one could tell.
"Stop fighting," Reccea begged quietly.
"It was more nookie than you'll ever get," Noel's Slash Roy pointed out.
"Take cover," a random fictive shouted as they scrambled away from the two couples and their writer. And considering that they were hiding from the bunny as well, it made their spacing a bit cramped.
A stunned Iceman watched the bickering fictives. It wasn't his problem; he wasn't going to get involved. "Um... guys... the bunny...?" But no one was listening. He replenished the ice wall and sat down, wondering why everyone was in such a huff. Then Warren flew over head.
"This is looking bad," Warren reported.
"You're telling me," Bobby grumped. "Those guys over there are getting into a catfight over lack of nookie."
Warren regarded them carefully. "They have no idea what happens when she even alludes to the idea of nookie. Do they?"
"Nope." Bobby scratched his head. "Should we tell them?"
Warren gave the group a calculated look. "Nah... they look out of hand as it is."
"True," Bobby nodded. "They could use some angst. And unhappiness. And... y'know."
"Yeah," Warren sighed. "I know."
"Oh yeah!" they heard Reccea's Slash Roy reply. "Well why don't I show use some creative uses for a bow and arrow, Mr. Nookie!"
"Don't just stand there," Reccea pleaded to the X-fictives. "Try to break them up."
Bobby and Warren blinked at her stupidly and went back to their conversation.
Reccea groaned in disgust. "Don't I have any fictives that don't want to get laid?!?!"
"Well, if you ever let them *have* sex then maybe--"
"Shut up Kon." Reccea put her fist down between the fighting couples. "Guys, we have still have the rabid bunny problem."
"We still have an overpopulation problem," one of the Batman's commented.
Reccea took a deep breath. "I'm going to have words with Noel."
"Priorities," Batman admonished. He shook his head at the loud banging, pinging of arrows, and clattering of batarangs.
Reccea looked at her few sane fictives expectantly.
"Any ideas?" She asked hopefully.
"We buy a new house?" Kon tried.
Reccea sighed.
Batman glared. He turned to the sane fictives which seemed to consist only of Superboy, Impulse, Robin, Iceman, and Angel. He huffed. He'd have to make do.
"All right," he moved to stand in front of them. His body language commanding complete attention. "Our Writer is obviously not going to cave to the rabbit's demands."
"Hell no." Reccea seconded.
"So we have to think of a plan."
Superboy piped up, his fictive self having as much forethought as his canon one. "Who died and made you boss?" Batman glared at him and Kon added a belated, "...Sir?"
Ignoring Kon completely, Batman continued on. "Those four are distracted for the moment, so we're on our own. Impulse, I need you to do reconnaissance. How close is the rabbit?"
Bart shrugged and shifted his weight. He tried to look out past the ice wall. "Um..."
Batman glared, like usual. "That means you have to go out and look."
"I'll go with you," Kon volunteered.
"No, you won't." Batman cut in.
"Why not?" Kon objected.
Batman glared at him, not needing to say a word.
"What if he needs to be airlifted out of there?" Kon shot back.
Tim scratched his head. "Since when do you use military terms?"
"Since I'm talking to Batman," Kon hissed back.
"I'm sure Impulse is fast enough not to require an 'airlift.'" Batman replied coldly. "Get a move on Impulse."
"Now?"
"Now!"
Bart muttered something about 'Pushy Batmen' under his breath and vibrated through the ice shield.
Batman turned back to the other fictives. "As for the rest of you..."
Bobby was trying to listen, he really was. He was maintaining the shield and he thought that was pretty important. He looked over at the small group, Tim seemed slightly nervous. Kon had crossed his arms and huffed. Warren stood patiently waiting his wings furled. Bobby looked at Batman. He didn't seem that intimidating, after all he wasn't wearing bright colors or spandex... how dangerous could he be?
"Don't even think about it," Warren cautioned softly in Bobby's ear.
"I'm not thinking anything," Bobby protested under his breath.
"He'll eat you alive."
Bobby rolled his eyes. "He doesn't look that scary."
They watched, non pulsed, as Batman outlined his orders to Robin. He then turned to the two X-men to scrutinize them. Batman wished the other Batman were here, because the operation would be much easier to plan if someone (like himself) who was used to leading (like he was) were here to help him coordinate the unruly metas.
Internally he sighed, the other Batman had important planned things to do.
Young Roy stepped out of the plot hole. And into Hell. Which was daunting for such a small, emotionally tortured fictive. He pushed his yellow hat further down onto his head and peered around at the landscape.
He hadn't known quite exactly what to expect to begin with. He'd never been on this side of the plot hole, nor had he heard any of the other fictives talking about this place. The computer was smoking and all around the ground were bunnies of various sizes and shapes. Roy crinkled his nose, it smelled very bad.
But what was worse, in his mind, was the lack of fictives running around the place. There were bunnies everywhere but no fictives. And no Writer. So exactly how was he supposed to report back to Reccea if he had nothing to report?
So he took initiative. "NOEL!!!!!!!!!!"
"She's not here," said Batman swooping down in a grand display. His cape billowed behind him as he landed. He looked at the young fictive. Roy shifted uncomfortably, but Batman continued to stare. Roy started to worry... was Batman trying to intimidate him into peeing his pants?
If so... it was working.
"Uh... where is she?" Roy fidgeted.
"That information is on a need-to-know basis only."
"I don't need to know?" Roy adjusted his yellow hat.
"No."
"I see." Roy pulled the hat off and smoothed his hair down. "You're really flexible there, aren't you."
Batman, as usual, didn't say anything.
Roy shifted his weight, his grip tightening on his bow. "I'm supposed to report back."
"Then report back," Batman told him. In a grand display, he spun, cape billowing once more and began walking briskly away.
Once the Batman had disappeared, Roy rolled his eyes. "Like hell. If I go back there with nothing I'm gonna be a teenager forever." He looked around. "All right. I'm going to find out what the hell happened. And I'm going to find Noel. No matter how many plot holes I have to fall through."
He started by heading towards her closet. Everything seemed to end up there. Twice he had to jump out of the way. Some underused and forgotten fictives were crawling out from their hiding spots to evacuate. Roy sighed. He didn't want to end up in Canada... or Japan... or Delaware. And he was still a young'n so he didn't want to end up any nookie crazed place either.
He sighed. Maybe Recce would like a consolation prize?
He made his way to the closet, a little bothered by the fictives abandoning ship. He had reached the closet and was trying , with all of his midget might, to force the door open when he heard thunder. Frowning he looked around, because he didn't think it could thunder inside the room. Not without the writer there to create a setting.
Then he saw it. A runaway plot bunny. A huge runaway plot bunny headed straight for him. He managed not to scream. Or even whimper, though he wanted to very badly. He made to leap out of the way when he was jerked back into the closet. By something.
He blinked in the darkness. He still couldn't see anything, damnit. He blinked again. He scowled. He was about to see if Recce had written him with any matches... or even two sticks... when a hand clamped over his mouth.
"Don't scream."
So naturally Roy tried to.
"Why does no one ever listen when you tell them not to scream?"
Roy replied something unintelligible what with a glove covering his mouth and all.
"Now if I release your mouth, will you promise not to scream?"
And that was a distinctive "No."
"Darn it Speedy! Why don't you ever listen to me?" And with that, the person holding Roy knocked his hat of his head.
Roy muttered in protest... but... he'd hung around his older self long enough to know... that it was for the greater good.
"Rob, that you?" He peered through the dark.
"You are such a pain in the ass," was the only response.
"Since when does goody two shoes Robin get to say stuff like that?" Roy huffed back.
"When he's been stuck in a closet for years."
Roy groaned. Closets. Again. If he also fell in love with Dick Grayson he was going to kick Reccea's ass. If he wasn't already in love with him. Which was highly possible. Damnit.
"Why have you been stuck in a closet for years?" Roy asked. I don't want to know, I don't want to know, and if he even says he needs someone to get him out of the closet, I am catching the next plot hole out of here and—-
"Noel forgot me."
That stopped Roy in his tracks. Noel forgot him? "You're a lost fictive?"
"Shut up," was the miserable sounding reply.
"Noel doesn't forget... does she?" Roy looked at Dick critically.
Dick squirmed. "Um... she might have killed the plot bunny that was my story."
"So you hid," Roy stated.
"So I hid." Dick hung his head.
"I'd hide too," Roy pat Dick lightly on the back.
"Sure you would," Dick scoffed. then Dick got a good look at him. "So why are you so young?"
"I'm Recce's Gen Roy. And I'm currently.... " Roy trailed off .
"What?" Dick prompted.
"...abouttododrugs, you?"
"I've forgotten. I knew at one point, but with the bunny gone... all I remember is that there was angst. Scary, bad, owie angst."
"I feel ya buddy."
"Our Writers are so cruel," Dick lamented.
"No kidding," Roy shook his head. "Have you been paying attention to the other fictives?
"No... Why?"
"You have no idea the horrors they've made the other us's go through."
"Like Bill and Ted?"
"Talk to me when you're mature man."
Dick looked Roy up and down in the darkness in the closet. "We're both going through puberty. I'm not seeing much maturity on either side."
Roy scoffed.
Dick folded his arms.
"I'm not the one hiding in the closet," Roy pointed out. And Dick... for all his intelligence, didn't have a good retort.
Roy looked smug.
"So..." Dick switched subjects. "Reccea sent you here?"
"Yeah."
"Because of the disaster?"
"Have you been spying, bird boy?"
"Well, duh. I'm in a closet. I have to be voyeuristic."
"Too true." Roy nodded. "So what happened? And where's Noel?"
Dick opened his mouth to reply but halted. He glanced right and then left. His eyes got wide and he grabbed Roy and yanked him further into the closet.
"Keep your voice down," Dick whispered harshly.
Roy threw his arms up in submission and confusion.
"Don't you know what's out there?" Dick hissed.
"Besides Batman?"
And Roy watched dumbstruck as Young Dick fled in terror. He scratched his head. "Okay, I so don't think I want to know."
Roy chased after him and watched as Dick pulled himself onto a low hanging sweater. Dick shimmied up it and then propelled himself to the shelf at the top of the closet.
Roy was pretty sure he couldn't do that but decided to give it a try anyways. He grabbed the thin fabric and started to haul himself up. He was just about halfway, when something was holding him back, he jerked his head around to see what the problem was.
"Holy crap."
"Gee thanks Roy" A fictive sized Noel replied. She pulled her self up a little further on his leg. "Keep going! The plot bunnies are after us."
"But..." Roy was so confused! Noel was a Writer! And she was the wrong size! "I'm not supposed to be on crack yet!" he wailed pathetically.
"Shut up and keep climbing! Otherwise withdrawl'll be the least of your problems."
Roy hustled up the length of the shirt, going slowly from the added weight. He pulled himself onto the shoulder of it, balancing carefully on the hanger. He pulled Noel up next to him. "There. Happy?"
Little Noel peered over the edge. She swayed slightly, then balanced on her knees and looked again. "High. Very high. High is not good. Not good." She looked down at the plot bunny circling on the carpet. "High is good."
A hand shot out from above them and grabbed Roy's arm. "Both of you, hold on." Dick ordered. Noel clung to Roy, whispering under her breath, "Recce would be so jealous." Roy snickered and Dick pulled them onto the shelf above the hangers.
And after Noel was on solid footing she realized, quite vocally in fact, "I'm older than both of you."
The fictives looked dour. "So," Roy prodded.
"Your point?" Dick said annoyed.
"I'm a little worried about a couple of teenagers saving my ass."
"We're Teen Titans," Roy stressed. "And we've saved the world more than once already. Don't be so worried."
"I've heard Reccea talk about you," Noel shook her head. "I know that you're about to lose it. And you..." She trailed off looking at her young Dick fictive.
"What were you going to do with him?" Roy prompted.
Noel shifted uncomfy-like under their glares. "Well, if you're going to heroing, get to. We've still got a plot bunny to deal with."
"Tell me," Roy demanded.
"It's not really your business," Noel shifted again.
"Excuse me," Roy frowned. "Who saved your butt from the plot bunnies just now? hmmm?"
"Well, it's--" Noel began to say, but Dick cut her off. His hand sliced through the air and he gestured for silence. All three tiny figures dropped as the bunny began to shuffle down below.
"What do you think it's going to do?" Roy asked quietly.
"Eat us." Noel looked nervous.
Dick rolled his eyes. "It's not going to eat us?"
"How do you know that, boy blunder?" snapped Noel.
Dick sighed heavily. "Haven't you read it? It's the plot bunny for this story."
"Does it say how I'm going to get back to my actual size?" Noel grumped.
"How did you turn into Thumbelina?" Roy watched the plot bunny cautiously.
"Not talking about it."
Dick rolled his eyes.
Roy looked at him critically. "You know a hell of a lot more than your saying." He then turned to Noel, "Are you sure he's not a spy?"
"For what?" she exploded. "The plot bunny armada that plan each night to try and take over the world?"
"Well I wouldn't put it past them."
"What, you think they work for the Batmen or something?" Dick rolled his eyes.
"I wouldn't talk shorty."
Dick glared at the yellow outfitted archer with barely controlled outrage.
Noel could feel the fight coming.
Roy folded his arms.
And the plot bunny took advantage of their distraction to charge headfirst into the supports. The ledge they were on shook a little. Roy held out his arms for balance. Dick leaned over to look. "The plot bunny's gotten impatient." He informed his companions.
"No kidding," Roy snapped.
"I'm going to die, in my closet, as small as a fictive. Mauled by a freaking plot bunny!" Noel put her head in her hands.
And that's when Dick lost it. "Shut up! At least you weren't going to have the living shit beat out of you and have to go to a shrink!"
"Ouch. That sucks." Roy shot a sympathetic look to Dick.
"Now is not the time!" Noel snapped. The bunny rammed again. The ledge shook. Roy lost his balance. Noel and Dick watched in horror as Roy fell to the floor.
Meanwhile, far far away -- because we're mean writers like that, leaving fictives in peril and whatnot -- things were far from faring well in California.
"So, you're telling me that it wants me to write nookie?" Reccea peered down from her dresser to the rabid plot bunny.
The bunny looked up at her and snarled. Its claws sliced through the air. The fictives had stopped fighting and were eyeing it curiously. All the slash fictives exchanged a knowing look. And that would have made Reccea shudder and hide even more, but instead Batman saw the look.
And Batman was sure what the slash boyz were planning. It was going to be up to him to save the day again and in return he was pretty sure Reccea would probably slash him too. It was shudder inducing praise that which made him wonder why he even bothered.
Batman swung down to Reccea's shoulder from the top of the nearby book case. Reccea looked at him. She went a little pale. Reccea, you see, was secretly a little afraid of her Batman fictive. He was scary and she wasn't sure he liked her.
"If you want to come out of this with your PG-13 rating intact," Batman commanded the girl, "you will do exactly what I say."
"Yes, Batman." she nodded vigorously. "Of course, Batman. Anything you say, Batman. Please don't let it eat me, Batman."
Batman growled at the pathetic nature of her response.
The fictives would have cowered in terror but they were busy plotting ways to help the bunny. It was truly Batman and Recce against the world.
"If you hadn't let your fictives get out of hand, this would not be a problem." He growled at her.
She winced. "I... couldn't help it? They have a life of their-"
"I don't want to hear your excuses. Now listen up and listen good," and Batman whispered his entire plan and wisdom to the young girl and hoped she didn't screw up too badly.
"You're too cool." She looked at her Batman fictive in awe.
"No thanks to your writing."
"I try. I so try."
"Not very hard."
"This isn't exactly productive you know."
"It's all a matter of timing. A writer must learn patience. Rushing leads to typos; typos lead to bad fic; bad fic leads to chaos."
"Huh?
"I'm your fictive. Shouldn't you understand everything I say?" Batman managed to not roll his eyes.
"But... you're *Batman*." Reccea objected. "And I think you may have been talking about planning. And typos. And Chaos. Now typos and chaos I can do but planning? Planning might be beyond me."
"Remember. Exactly what I say."
"Yes. Exactly what you say."
"Exactly when I say it."
"Yes. Exactly when you say it."
And Batman smiled cause he had the power.
Roy tumbled off the edge and hurtled down towards the Rabid Plot Bunny.
Noel screamed, as any writer is prone to at the impending death of a ficitve, but Dick leapt over the edge after his fallen friend. And Noel screamed again, until she realized what a nail biting angst worthy story she could make of it. Then the evil dark plot bunnies emerged from the deepest, darkest corners of her closet. Their red eyes were glowing. And the white fluffy plot bunny turned and hauled his fluffy white tail far, far away.
And Roy and Dick quickly scrambled back up the clothing. They collapsed safely on the shelf breathing heavily. After a few moments they peeked over the ledge and realized that they were in a far worse state than before.
"Great Noel!" Roy hollered. "Good going. Had to be a dark, violent, angsty, plotter didn't you!"
"Roy, do you have any weapons?" Dick took a deep breath as he looked around at the hissing, evil plot bunnies. "Besides the blinding power of this hideous yellow hat?"
And Noel, despite her best effort, took one look at the hat and started laughing.
Roy, never the most patient, especially when upset angsty teen, promptly threw it in her face.
Dick watched horrified and wondered if he'd be better off with the bunny.
"C'mon, Noel! This is not a laughing matter. We're going to die!! We're going to be mutilated and eaten by plot bunnies. Okay?!?!" Roy hissed in exasperation.
"Okay," Dick took a deep breath. "Why don't both of you take a step back and focus?"
"Oh put a sock in it Boy Wonder." Roy snapped.
Dick's eyes narrowed. He'd been stuck in a bloody closet for far too long and now this juvenile delinquent about to show up was going to tell him what to do. He seethed. Teammate or not teammate, this was war.
And with that thought, he launched himself at Roy.
Roy didn't see him coming. After all, this was a verbal fight. To have it escalate without warning? Unheard of with Dick Grayson.
So Roy went down. Hard. And for the first few seconds he didn't fight back. Then he got a fist in the nose which meant... playtime was over. He shoved the palm of his hand into Dick's abdomen and tried to get enough leverage to stand.
Roy managed to roll over, getting some purchase, but Dick grabbed him by the shoulders utilizing their momentum to flip them again.
Below them, the bunny circled eagerly...
And neither boy noticed how very close to the edge they were. Roy got his foot wedged between them and managed to kick Dick back off him. Dick stumbled back but managed not to fall on his butt. Quite the feat actually.
He reached out and grabbed Roy's arm, pulled the archer off the ground and decked him.
"FUCKING OW!" Roy held his bruised jaw and Dick stopped, taken aback by the language.
Dick hesitated. "Um... are you o-" Roy slammed into Dick's waist and they tumbled to the ground.
"Um, guys..." Noel tried to call them as she stepped out of their way. "Guys?"
Dick elbowed Roy across the jaw. In retaliation, Roy slammed his forehead into Dick's. Noel stared unsure what to do or say.
They wrestled on the ground, pushing and pulling at each other's faces. It looked painful and a bit childish. But then this wasn't a 'beat the crap out of the bad guy' fight so it was bound to be less violent and more... petty.
They rolled closer to the edge and Roy managed to get in a pretty good kick to Dick's shin. Just as the plot bunny down below rammed into the supports.
Noel faltered, and fell to the ground. She got up angrily. "That's it! If you guys don't stop this instant!"
And of course they were too busy trying to beat the shit out of each other to notice her. So, Noel did the only thing she could and joined in. It was quite unfortunate, as she's a girl and everyone knows girl's claw, scratch, bite, and pull hair.
There were quite a few male protests as female hands clawed, struck and pulled thier way into the fight. And there was one outraged male shriek as Noel got a good hold on Roy's hair. Noel pulled the archer's head back, as she was thoroughly pissed at this point, and yelled "Are you done yet?"
Dick looked wary and Roy said-- pleadingly-- "Yes!"
"That's what I thought," she near growled. She pushed Roy's head forward, releasing her grip. Pleased, she stood, dusting herself off and looked utterly composed. The two Teen Titans couldn't make the same claim with ruffled hair, torn clothes, and specks of blood.
Roy retrieved his fallen hat from the ground, deliberately not meeting the girl's eyes. "Now what?" he whispered harshly to Dick.
"We need a plan." Dick whispered back.
Roy sighed. "We keep coming back to this plan thing."
"You might want to add the word to your vocabulary Roy. You're going to run into it again." Noel pointed down to the closet floor. "What we need is to do something about that so we can all get the hell out of here."
Dick brightened considerably. "Me too?"
Noel faltered. "Uh... sure... I guess. Damn."
Dick's whole face seemed to light up. "All right. Let's plan. Now first we need to figure out it's weaknesses."
"Weaknesses?" Roy arched both eyebrows. "It's a feral plot bunny, it doesn't have weaknesses!"
"Oh, yes it does!" Noel sounded excited.
"What Queen of Neglect?" Roy asked cynically. "Malnutrition?"
Noel stared at him. Roy arched his eyebrows mockingly. Noel stared harder.
"What?!" Roy finally snapped.
"I know your writer."
"She's already got me about to take the long fall into addiction. What the hell else can she do to me?" Roy was unimpressed.
"Three words. Nightwing. Angst. Looooove." Noel crossed her arms.
Roy gaped.
Dick looked from the plot bunny to Noel to the closet. "Um... if we live and I get out of this closet.... you're not going to..."
"To?" Noel turned to her fictive.
"Er... make me come out of the closet?"
And Roy, the adolescent that he was, couldn't help but stifle his laughter with a loud snort. A quick look at his friend showed color in Dick's cheeks. Dick was blushing. Roy tried to hold his laughter in.
"Oh man, at least tell me he matures out of these puns. Especially with a name like Dick."
Dick continued to flush red, however this time it was with anger, not embarrassment. Roy didn't notice, but Noel did, her face blanching as she watched her neglected fictive. This was not good.
"One: It's an honest question, Arrow-breath. Two: Tell me you're not worried about your eventually romp on the gay side of life. Three: You want to get out of this alive, don't mock me."
Roy looked *almost* moved. Almost. "Mock. Mock. Mock. Mock."
Noel's eyes widened as she watched the train wreck that was coming. However, the only thing she could think of was, 'Oh, how cute. Their first lover's spat.'
Dick glowered, trying to intimidate the archer, without much success. "I don't know why I even bother with you!" Dick snapped.
Roy raised his hands innocently before pointing to himself. "Who me?" he asked.
"Can't you be serious for one minute? There's a bunny that wants you for a hors d'oeuvre in case you forgot."
"Yeah, but it wants her as the main course." Roy gestured to Noel with his thumb.
"And I'm what? Dessert?" Dick through his hands in the air.
"Okay, look, pretty boy." Roy crossed his arms. "You're being just a bit too sensitive, okay? You wanted a plan. She thinks KillerBunny has a weakness, and I'm willing to move past this."
Dick gaped. Mostly in outrage. Noel covered a smile with her hand, due to the 'pretty boy' remark, Oh yes, trademark Reccea pre-slash was beginning to show.
"I am not sensitive! I'm... I'm a crime fighter! I'm not sensitive! Noel," Dick turned desperate, "Tell him I'm not sensitive."
Noel put her hands in the air and backed away. "I'm not getting involved."
"Of course not," both boys retorted.
They glared at each other.
The bunny down below them growled.
Bart, Kon, Tim, Bobby, and Warren all stood in a straight line, facing front. There toes were in unison, and they were looking straight ahead. They would have looked professional, if their heads were upright and their eyes tracking Batman as he paced about. However, they were antsy and fidgety.
Kon folded his arms trying to look indignant. Bart lifted the bottom of his shoe. A bit of rubber had melted in the CPU fire and it felt funny. Tim looked pained, a weary 'Why Me?' expression fixed upon his face. Bobby was watching as Batman's cape picked up all the dust atop the desk, and Warren simply looked bored.
What a crew.
"This is how we will remove the bunny," Batman stated. "Pay attention."
They tried to snap to attention. Really they did. but when Bart snapped to and saluted he managed to elbow the hovering Kon in the stomach. Who in turn rammed his shoulders into Tim. Who, by the power of tactile telekinesis, fell off the desk.
Kon looked over his shoulder. "Oops." He watched as Tim continued to fall to the ground.
"Aren't you going to catch him?" Warren asked idly. "He can't fly you know."
"Sure, lay it all on the guy that can fly." Kon rolled his eyes. "It's not like the rest of you are heroes or anything. Right, wings?"
"It's your fault," Bobby jumped in. "It's called responsibility."
Batman's expression grew darker and darker as the fictives continued to bicker. Bart shuffled, looking down at his feet. He looked over the edge. Tim was still falling, he looked back to his friends: still bickering. He frowned.
"Oh, you're going to be like that. Just cause I'm a teenager you think I don't realize what's going on."
Tim knew exactly what was going on. He was falling rapidly, and no one was coming to help. Why him? He opened his utility belt and cast out a jumpline. The black line wound around a support and he braced himself to rappel of the side. Tim made contact with a loud thump. Loud enough for his friends to notice.
"Er..." Kon looked down at Tim. "You okay?"
Batman sighed.
Kon turned back to Batman and over his shoulder pointed at Tim with his
thumb. "He's good. Don't worry."
Batman cleared his throat, a gesture that failed to make the fictives snap
too attention... but considering previous mishap, was probably a good thing.
Tim started to climb the rope, grumbling under his breath. "Hey!" he
shouted. He was Batman's protege, he shouldn't be treated like this. Just
wait until he told Noel the mean stuff Reccea's fictives were doing. "A
little help here?"
Batman gave Kon 'the look.' Kon frowned for a moment, a little worried for
his continued health. Then he darted down and grabbed Tim. He shot back up
and set Tim, gently, down next to Batman.
"Are we done yet?"
And Batman's glare went from Kon back to the line. Both Bobby and Bart
slumped downwards looking at their shoes. It was a reasonable question as
nothing was getting done while they were standing here. Besides, they'd
been thinking the same thing.
"No. We are not done. We have yet to begin. Now," Batman’s voice attained
the pure steel only used to inspire complete and total attention. "Let us
begin."
They group blinked bored eyes at Batman. This was going to be long and complicated, just like all good bat plans should be. It was going to work, that was a given, but it was going to mean effort... and coordination and considering the group of heroes there was to work with, that might take a miracle.
Batman had had an easier, simplier solution as well, but that wouldn't give his counterpart at Noel's house enough time to finish all he needed to do.
.to be continued.