"I dunno Dick, are you sure we should be doing this?" Tim asked as they made their way through Charlene's house in search of her fictives. They had changed into civilian clothes before embarking on the top secret mission.

"You read what she did to Jack during the initiation right?" Robbie reminded. Tim shuddered as he remembered all the moments he had winced while reading Charlene's play by play description. "Well, Jack is you, and I'm Robbie. We've gotta save ourselves kid."

"Yeah, but isn't this stealing?"

They had worked their way through the kitchen, looking through drawers and shelves, but not because they thought the fictives would be there. They couldn't help it if their detective nature made them nosey busy bodies. Besides, they were hungry, and needed to take a break, it had been a long trip.

"We're not stealing. We're going to rescue those guys from an evil author. Did you know she killed me and Babsie in another story?"

"Babs, you mean."

"Babs, Babsie, Barbara, what's the difference?"

" 'Babsie' isn't from the comics, or the movies, or the animated series. You're the only Dick fictive that says it. Where the heck do you get it from?"

"This from the kid that decided his alias should be 'Alvin Draper'."

"You know, I'm beginning to think there's a reason your nick name is Dick."

Dick grinned mischievously. "I know, ain't it great?"

"They're not in the bookcase," Slash Roy called out.

"Not hiding under the bed either," Slash Dick called out.

Roy came out from my dresser drawer. "All clear here. Nice underwear by the way babe."

"Don't mess with me right now Harper," I commanded. I sighed. Two fictives completely disappeared. This was not good. A red blur blew past me, then stopped and came back to stand in front of me.

"Icheckedthehouse. He'snotanywhere. Ilookedinthevideoshelf, theoven, thepantry, thelitterbox, thelaundryroom, the-"

"Did you say littler box? Ew!" I waved my hand at him. "Go take a shower, Bart. Get off my desk."

Bart crinkled his face in disgust.

"I saw that thought bubble mister."

His face grew even more miffed, then he dashed off again. I sighed.

Roy walked up to my mouse. "Why the hell would he check the litter box?"

"Don't ask, please don't ask. I don't know." I buried my face in my hands. This was not my day. And Roy was not helping. He reached up to tug on my hair. "Go 'way," I muttered, still hiding.

"Hey, I found this. It's Charlene's address and email stuff, it was hiding under your keyboard. Looks like Dick's hand writing."

"You don't think they went to find 'em do you?"

"Beats me, hon. I'm the pretty one not the detective."

Slash Dick and Slash Roy had hoped down and were studying the evidence/clues/rays of hope. Slash Dick read over the information, then rubbed the back of his neck. "How would they even get there?" he asked.

Both Roys looked at each other, the answer obvious. Simultaneously, they answered.

"Plot hole!"

"When's she gonna leave?" Dick watched as Charlene continued to peck away at her laptop keys. They had climbed their way through the house. They had started by scaling the refrigerator spurred by a huge dog, thankfully more intent on snacking on leftovers than chasing tiny people. Currently, he was perched and hidden on the top curtain rod.

"Quiet or you'll give us away," Tim whispered back.

"Her email said she was going to court today," Dick grumbled. "She's been there for twenty minutes so far and besides, we haven't even found her damn fictives. I bet she keeps them locked up in a cage."

After thirty minutes of intolerable waiting, Charlene finally snapped her laptop closed. She set it atop a small table, notepad resting atop it. She gathered up her items for work, and finally left. Twenty minutes after that (because they had to ascertain that the coast was clear), they swung down to the table.

Immediately, Dick headed for the computer. He was about to kick the notepad off the laptop but a few stray words caught his eyes. He started reading, already engrossed in learning the enemies future plans. Eyes intently reading, he called out to Tim. "Check this out: story notes." He didn't get a response, although he had read through a few more lines before he realized it. He looked up belatedly, questioning, "Tim?"

Dick turned around to see an extremely grubby and tattooed version of himself. Had to be Robbie Malone, or at least Charlene's Dick fictive posing as Robbie Malone. Robbie's arm was wrapped around Tim, pinning his arms. With his other hand he covered Tim's mouth. Dick wasn't sure if he was supposed to be shocked, amused, or outraged. He blinked.

"I don't know where you guys came from or who the hell you are, but you're gonna back away from that computer right now before I do something to hurt your buddy here." Robbie threatened.

Dick exchanged glances with Tim who appeared to be more annoyed than concerned. Suddenly, Tim's eyes darted to the right, and Dick, seeing the signal, took a step back. Jack Malone fell on his face, his flying tackle having gone completely awry. Quickly, Dick moved to Tim's doppelganger, hauling him onto his feet by his hair. Jack winced, and Tim flinched in sympathy.

"Look," Dick started to say, "we don't want to fight-"

"So let my brother go, and I'll think of letting your friend walk off."

"You gotta be crazy, this isn't a stand off. We can kick you ass if we wanted to."

"Oh yeah," Robbie replied. "Bring it on man, come on, me and Jackie'll wipe the floor with you."

"Oh, you think so, huh? Well, look Tim and I can take you any day anywhere."

As Robbie and Dick continued to argue, Tim and Jack exchanged glances, as they sized each other up. Finally, as the verbal debate increased they simply slipped out of the older men's hold, and moved to the side of the laptop.

"Jack Malone," the one with unruly hair introduced himself.

"Tim Drake."

They both looked towards the other men, still boasting.

"So, Tim, do you want to tell me why you guys look like us?"

"In a sec, I want to see how this plays out? Got any popcorn?"

"Extra Butter or Regular?"

"Okay, let me get this straight," Robbie Malone said, scratching the back of his neck. "We're you guys but we're not you guys cause Charlene is three cans short of a six pack?"

"Exactly, but that doesn't answer where Charlene's Dick and Tim fictives are," Dick responded.

After about twenty minutes of bluffing before realizing that Tim and Jack were watching them amused, the four had decided to sit down and talk. They munched on popcorn and beer, (soda for Tim). After Dick and Tim explained where they had come here and how they got here, they started to explain how they thought Robbie and Jack had come into being.

"I have a theory," Tim stated. "I think you guys are really Dick and me undercover, as long as Charlene has her Dick and Tim fictives present. So do you know where those guys are?"

"You mean the stuffed shirts that look like you guys? We don't like them. It's a good thing they're gone. They're just losers and stuff, no fun." Robbie started tossing popcorn into the air, kernel by kernel. He missed most of them and ended up making a mess.

Jack sighed. "They took off when the lawyer chick started talking about framing them for old man Wayne's murder."

Dick slapped Tim on the back, causing him to choke on his soda. "Ha!" he said triumphant. "Told you she was mean!"

"So, she's mean, but she has good food," Robbie pointed out. "Tell me again, why we should go back with you?"

"Well, Charlene killed Dick."

"So did your author."

"Well... our author doesn't believe in owies for minors."

Jack grinned. "I'm sold. Sign me up."

Robbie swore. "Damnit kid! We can't just cut and run, lawyer lady has a story to finish."

"Our author will pay you double," Dick said in a sing-song voice.

Robbie's eyes opened wide. "You get paid?"

"No we don't--" Tim started to say, before Dick's hand closed over his mouth.

"--get paid minimum," Dick fibbed.

"Okay, smart guy, I'm there. Just how are we getting to this place?"

"Watch." Dick stood up, moving to the edge of the laptop, he raised his hands ignoring the snickers behind him. A tiny black dot floated almost eye level. Ever so slowly it started to spin. As it spun, it spread out growing larger and larger. Faster and faster, until it was bigger than Dick himself.

"What the hell is that man?" Jack said taking a step back.

Tim moved to clasp Jack on the shoulder. "Haven't you ever seen a plot hole, my friend?"

"Does anyone else think this is ripping off 'Sliders'?" Robbie asked as Dick kicked him into the hole.

Tim followed Robbie, dragging a wide-eyed Jack behind him. Dick looked disgustingly at the story notes, and quickly kicked them off the table. Then, he turned and leapt into the swirling vortex.

From the bookcase, the tallest part in the living room, a fictive watched from the shadows. Carefully hidden behind the picture frames, none of the four fictives could see him from the table. As the vortex closed, he shook his head somberly. Charlene would be home soon, and she would not be happy. He didn't want her not to be happy. He'd have to do something about it.

"Stillhaven'tfoundthem. Doyouwantmetokeeplooking?"

I shook my head, and Bart stopped his speeding. I rested my face in my hands. "I shouldn't have yelled at 'im."

Roy leaned against my mouse, he'd been sympathetic through the past few hours. Slash Roy and Slash Dick exhausted from their search were catching some Z's atop the scanner. They were cuddled up in the leftover Easter basket, oblivious to the world. Down below, Roy tugged on my hair lightly. "Hey, it's not your fault. Buck up, hon. We all know that Dick can be... well... a dick."

"Yeah, but what if they never come back? What'll I write?"

"Tch. You need to ask? Look hon, you can write Guinness, that'll make Reccea happy. Not to mention you still have a primo number one gen fictive around."

I snapped my fingers. "I'll write Impulse fic!"

Roy frowned. "I'm starting to see why Robbie left."

"Yo, whatcha spreading 'bout me?"

Roy and I turned at the familiar voice. It was ... Dick... kinda. Dick after a grunge concert maybe. Dick after two months without combing his hair. Dick after some serious tattoo-age. Roy thought his boy looked kinda cool, in a non-Dick sort of way.

"Woah," Roy said with a start. "Dick on acid."

Robbie jumped onto the desk with a flourish, soon followed by Tim, Jack, and Dick. Dick climbed atop my magical caffeine can. He cleared his throat, in an obvious gesture to get everyone's attention. When it didn't work he shouted out. Sooner than later, everyone wandered down. Once he was satisfied he was the center of attention, Dick made his announcement.

"We have two new fictives. Robbie and Jack. They're going to be staying here from now on."

The crowd closed around the two fictives in question. Robbie's eyes darted around, trying to keep all the fictives straight. As far as he could tell, Slash Dick looked the same as Dick. And Slash Roy looked the same as Roy. He scratched the back of his neck and tilted his head. Nope, still looked the same.

Slash Roy (Robbie had deduced it was the Slash Roy because Slash Dick had had his arm around the aforementioned Roy) came up to him. Slash Roy walked around him, and Robbie trailed him with his eyes. Slash Roy, finally stopped to stand in front of him. "Robbie, man. I love the tatts. Those are hot." Ever so gently, he trailed his fingers over them. He turned to his companion, "Dick, don't you think they're hot?"

Slash Dick frowned, but he never said a word. Instead, he slowly and discreetly wandered off and ended up watching the gathering from atop the monitor. He wasn't the only one to leave, after the announcement, Bart zipped off his hand held game already beeping. Tim and Jack wandered off, exploring the area. Slash Roy, Dick, and Robbie sat by the computer starting to open files.

Roy wandered around surveying everyone. He helped Dick find the latest Charlene fic edit, then he wandered up where Slash Dick was watching silently. He sat down beside him, watching the group comment on the story.

"You think they've never seen a new fictive before, huh?"

"Tell me about it," Slash Dick muttered.

Roy slung his arm over Slash Dick's shoulder. "Come on, let's blow this joint, we'll drop by John's for a workout, get your mind off this stuff."

"Do you think he'll mind?"

"Nah, of course not. Me and Westcott are tight man, I'm telling ya. 'Sides I think he got some new weapons and stuff to mess with. You would not believe the amount of handguns that guy keeps around. Especially for a Canadian. Let's go find a plot hole and we'll get international."

"Deal."

"So what did you guys do for fun at the lawyer's place?" Tim asked as he and Jack started heading back for the top of the monitor. They had toured through all the electronic devices and didn't find anything interesting. The chaotic beeping grew louder as they got closer to the monitor.

"Um," Jack paused to think. "We eat. A lot. Robbie can navigate her fridge blindfolded. We harass her dog. We flirt with the female fictives. Speaking of, where are you keeping all the gals?"

Tim sat down beside Bart, and effortlessly plucked the video game out of his friend's hand. He ignored Bart's glare and turned his attention back to Jack. "She doesn't have any female fictives, just us six for this fandom anyways."

"What?" Jack was shocked. "And you guys think you have it made! Yeah right. I'll bet you don't even get to annoy the butler dude."

"No, we don't have a butler dude to annoy," Bart said. He got up and walked around Tim, but the other boy had mysteriously made the video game vanish. There was no sign of it anywhere. Dejected, he sat back down. After tapping his foot rapidly for about two seconds, he got bored and dashed off. He reappeared with another hand held game, which Tim unceremoniously plucked from his hand. After Tim had confiscated five games, Bart finally gave up and sat down.

Jack leaned over and looked at Bart with curiosity. "I forgot. Who are you again?"

Tim smiled slightly, and when it became obvious that Bart was paying attention he answered for him. "He's Kid Flash, don't pay attention to him."

Jack nodded. "Not a problem. Hey do you have any food around here?"

"You're always hungry aren't you man?" Tim asked. Jack nodded. Tim sighed, and got up. "C'mon," he said and shot a jumpline out. He handed it to Jack, who looked at it dumbly.

Jack turned the tiny grip over in his hands. He spoke slowly as if unsure of himself. "I feel like I should know what to do with this."

Tim shot out another jumpline. "It's as easy as falling of a bike."

Jack looked down at the gap beside the computer desk. It was probably around three feet. Jack looked at Tim skeptically. "Or a computer?" he asked warily.

Tim rolled his eyes. "I'll go first. It's easy. You just hold on and swing." Tim's feet left the computer monitor as he started to swing over to the television. From there, they could climb down the dresser drawers and that would set them on their way

Jack grasped the tiny bat device for his very life and he steeled himself to jump. However, the moment before he could swing off, Bart startled him. The insult, finally dawning upon him, Bart leapt up and exclaimed, "Kid Flash!?!?"

Impulse then watched as Jack dropped the line as he jumped into the air startled. Jack lost his footing and slipped from the top of the monitor falling towards the desk. Bart looked over the top of the monitor to Dick and Robbie who were looking at him expectantly. "Oops?" he offered, as the two older fictives stared at him.

"Don't worry," Bart assured and dashed off to go catch Jack. Jack, meanwhile, had been swearing his head off, as he fell. He spouted words completely inappropriate for Charlene's PG-13 stories and most certainly too expletive for the comics code. Thankfully, his descent stopped when Bart created an air cushion under Jack, slowing his descent down until Jack's feet touched down gently on the hard wood desk. Tim touched down a few feet away, concern evident in his face. Tim and Bart gathered around waiting for Jack to open his eyes.

Finally, one eye opened, then another. Jack looked up sheepishly at his new friends. He shrugged, trying to play off the experience. "You know, I'm not hungry anymore. So what do you guys do for fun here?" Then as almost an afterthought he added, "Without swinging around?"

Tim smiled. "Sure, we've got comics." Tim slung his arm around Jack's shoulder and led him to a quiet corner of the desk.

"And video games," Bart said, appearing suddenly with an armful of electronic devices.

"Tons of music," Tim added.

"And I can teach you swears that pass the comics code!" Bart said happily. Tim and Jack stopped walking to stare at him. "What? Hey, it pays to come from the future!"

Jack looked at Tim, to the speedster, back to Tim. "I should count my blessings that Charlene never had him for a fictive, shouldn't I?"

"Oh yeah," Tim agreed.

While Bart and Tim were busy traumatizing Jack, Slash Roy had grown bored and went in search of Slash Dick (in vain). He'd left Dick and Robbie to sort through the files, and the duo had been slowly growing in boredom. The event with Jack had been a high point in the day. Robbie was sick of reading through fic that didn't even mention him. After watching Robbie lose 763 dollars in computer solitaire, Dick had confiscated the mouse. Dick sat on it watching as Robbie kicked the random keys on the keyboard.

"What do you guys do for fun?" Robbie asked spelling out random names.

Dick sighed. He was beginning to feel like a babysitter. "We kill plot bunnies on Tuesdays."

"Really? Lawyer lady won't let us do that. She says their special or something. To me their just stupid fluffy rabbits. I wanna make like Elmer Fudd and just shoot 'em full of holes."

"We can't today. It's not Tuesday."

"Oh," Robbie pouted. "So when do I get paid man?"

"When do you? You get paid when you star in a fic."

"When might that happen, hmmmm?"

"It's not going to happen," another voice broke in, causing both Dick and Robbie to jump. "Youse are gonna come back home with me."

"Chill Pop," Robbie said regaining his smooth composure. "We've got a good scam running here, Jack and me."

"Youse knows you left a pretty bird back at the other pad?"

Robbie scratched his neck. "The lawyer lady?"

Matches smiled. "Her too. I was talking about a certain redhead, that hasn't been the same since youse guys took off."

"Hey, I thought you always taught us never to get in a situation where we had to choose between money and women."

"Youse don't listen to me, and you two dropped the ball, so now youse do."

Jack hopped down from where he had been reading comics with Tim and Bart. "What about me?" he asked. "I like not being black and blue!"

The side of Matches Malone's lip quirked up slightly, and he moved his sunglasses down a notch to look over the top rims. "Package deal kid. When youse finally gets tried as an adult, then youse can make your own decisions."

"Aw, grife!" Jack swore, using one of the words his new friends had taught him.

"I'll give you boys two minutes to say your goodbyes." Matches gathered up a black dot and starting spinning a plot hole into existence.

Robbie turned to Dick who was completely crestfallen. "Look, man I gotta go back there, I've got a girl. You know how it is."

"But, but, but, but, but," Dick stammered looking for an excuse, a reason, a rationale. He searched for a convincing argument but ultimately came up with: "She shot you!"

Robbie winked mischievously. "As my Pop would say, ' 'Dems de breaks.' I appreciate it, and maybe I'll see you again sometime. Later dude." Robbie turned to Slash Roy that seemed equally crestfallen. "Buck up, man. You know you're pretty cool for a ..." he stumbled around for the right words, "beer drinker." He waved goodbye and started moving towards the plot hole.

Robbie pushed Jack, and the younger boy stumbled through it. Then, in almost a Nightwing type move, he dived in himself. Matches stood in front of swirling ink and glared at the fictives. "If youse ever come by again, youse'll regret it," he stated then dived in.

Dick sighed as he watched the vortex close.

Almost simultaneously, thousands of miles away, Robbie Malone stumbled out of the vortex. He looked around until he saw Babs. He ran to her, gathering her up easily in her arms. "Miss me baby?"

She kissed him happily. "Yep," Babs ascertained. "Her too." Babs pointed to Charlene who was watching the scene with delight.

Robbie smiled, and blushed ever so slightly. "Hey lawyer lady. Sorry about the mix up. But you know I finally figured out that it might be a good thing to have lawyer on my side." Then he winked. He was home.