A Flash by Any Other Name
Jun. 1st, 2006 02:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shankieMatches introduces his new pal to an old partner in crime, and the subterfuge gets underway...
Part Thirty-Two: Bait & Switch
Eobard was currently residing in Chicago's South Side; another link between Brannock's agents. He'd been difficult to locate. A pair of dark curtains were hanging in the windows, but there were gaps enough for some things to be made out; enough to know they were both asleep. His scanning didn't pick up any security or existing surveillance, so Batman made his move.
The living room window was open; Bruce slipped in silently, skirting the edge of the spartan room and secreting surveillance in spots on the wall where plaster had been cracked down to the wood studs.
He noted some similarities between this apartment and Wally's; remains of junk food were scattered over the tables, empty pizza boxes, a few comic books were laying open here and there, and CDs resting next to a portable player had the same sort of covers as the ones now scattered around the manor, with flames, bulky men in armour, spiked lettering or other themes the genre seemed to prefer. He made a note of it, then moved on to looking through a few pieces of mail on a side table; all innocuous, but he examined them carefully, anyway. Bills, a note from the landlord about a leak, and lingerie catalogues addressed to a woman he knew to live down the hall.
Satisfied enough for the time being, Bruce slipped out again and made for an abandoned warehouse a few blocks over, where he called for the wing to descend and took off back toward home.
He discussed his findings with Alfred on the way back; it always helped him put things in perspective.
The hour was late, getting on sunrise, and he made haste, knowing Alfred wouldn't go to bed until he was back home. Robin and Batgirl had long since signed off. Wally very rarely patrolled Central City after 11, and being one to hold more normal hours, was undoubtedly asleep already. He was waiting for him almost every night since the first time Alfred told him he'd come over, and he'd found him in the same spot ever since.
Bruce smiled pushed the plane a little faster.
He got back to the cave, checked the link to the video feeds, then finally pulled off his uniform and assured Alfred he was going to bed, and he should do the same.
True to his promise, Bruce pulled on a robe and headed upstairs, the exhaustion of a long night finally catching up with him, as it always did in these moments. His quiet steps through the dark manor were slow, and he couldn't help but glance out the front windows as he passed them. If Joker was coming here, it wouldn't be at 6am, but it was reassuring to look out and see nothing but the sun rising high over Gotham.
During the day, one could almost believe Gotham didn't need saving. Almost.
Bruce pulled himself away from the sight and walked upstairs to find his other reason to hope.
* * *
Matches Malone and his old pal from Kansas City, Swifty Patterson, sat drinking black coffee in an outdoor cafe`. 'Matches' was chewing on the end of a matchstick and looking around warily, while 'Swifty' was smoking a cigarette and rambling on about the upcoming hockey season.
Wally's red hair had been covered up with a short brown wig and they both wore black suits, with the jackets slung over their seats and their white shirt sleeves rolled up, with thin black ties and dark sunglasses. Bruce had been a little skeptical when they'd stopped in a convenience store and he'd picked up a pack of Marlboros, but had been assured that it was something Wally used to do in college, and as long as he didn't make a habit again, no harm done.
Bruce had to admit it added a lot to his character, who had humour drier than he'd ever imagined Wally could pull off, and a kind of arrogance about the way he held himself that was also new. He assured Bruce that he'd watched enough gangster movies to do a decent job, which was turning out to be true.
Having Matches be visible from time to time was necessary to keep the guise above suspicion, and it'd also been an opportunity for Wally to practice being a criminal, even if they weren't actually going to be doing any real undercover work. Just lunch in a notorious low-level mobster hangout.
"Fuckin' Mr. Pink over here, hi-larious." Wally said between puffs of smoke that swirled around his face before dissipating into the air. He leaned back in his chair, casually throwing one leg over his knee. "Who we meetin' here, anyway?"
"Old pal Eel, back up from a gig in Vegas." Bruce spit the matchstick on the ground and sipped some coffee. "We worked for this clown Black Mask back before he got pinched."
"Oh yeah?"
"Started bumpin' off guys and gettin' all bing. Guess the Bat finally got 'im."
"Huh." Wally stubbed out his butt in the ashtray, then began adding more sugar to his coffee. "Ain't seen the Bat. I hear he's not even human. Some kinda vampire or somethin', fangs an' all."
"Nah. I saw him one time. Ugly as hell, though." Bruce smirked over his cup.
"I bet." Wally replied with a grin.
"Matches you wacky bugger!" A skinny guy in white sunglasses and the inevitable black suit gave him a punch on the arm and sat down in an empty chair, waving the waitress over with a flirty smile. "You mugs gettin' somethin'?"
"Yep." Bruce gestured at Wally. "Eel, this is Swifty from Kansas City. Kid could outrun anybody."
"That so?" Eel looked up at the impatient looking stick of a woman in a white apron and black dress. "I'll get whatever soup's on special and a mess of those dinner rolls you got."
"Steak sandwich, peppers and onions, hold the cheese." Bruce said when she shifted her inquiring glance to him.
"Four grilled cheese sannwiches, tomato soup, an' a bottle of Guinness." Wally said, raising one eyebrow and grinning suggestively at her.
She nodded absently and walked back inside, three leering gazes following her.
"You guys talkin' 'bout the Bat? I hate that putrid punk. Think he's got me on a leash, he does. Why I got out of this damn place, that and you bein' so damn foolish there Matches. Heck were you thinkin'?"
"I figgered the boss knew what he was doin'."
"Damn lucky you didn't get hauled off in nippers."
"Nah. You worry too much O'Brian. Needta relax, you'll give yourself a freakin' ulcer." Bruce said, pulling out another match to chew on.
"Says Mr. Cool here." Wally added with a smirk.
"Anyway, got no kick now. What's your story, kid?" Eel said to 'Swifty' with a grin.
"Gettin' my nose wet. Me and Matches go way back."
"He's a good guy, aside from bein' off his freakin' nut." Eel said, gesturing his head in Bruce's direction. "Knows how to play it, though. Mask was awful keen on you takin' a slug for him."
Wally raised an eyebrow at that, and Bruce just shrugged.
"Just a scratch."
"Uh-huh." Eel shook his head. "So, how long you gonna be in town Swifty?"
"Still gettin' the lay." Wally said with a haughty grin. "Likin' it so far."
* * *
Wally was still giggling hours later, dressed as Shadow and crouching next to Bruce on top of City Hall.
"Man, that was right out of The Godfather! I can't believe you've never even seen it!"
"I don't watch many movies."
"So you've said. Pity. It's a masterpiece of cinemas. I still remember the first time I saw it, man that was awesome. I saw the whole series in one day at this marathon this tiny theatre by the orphanage ran, me and my buddy Hick. So great. We got in trouble for missing curfew, but it was totally worth it."
"Hn."
"And Casino man. I must have seen that a hundred times. And Goodfellas?" Wally shifted into a Danny DeVito impression. "What do ya mean, funny? Let me understand this cause, I don't know maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but I'm funny how? I mean, funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh... I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?"
Wally started laughing and clutching his stomach, while Bruce just gave him a steady look, prompting him to sober up and cough.
"Uh, yeah, I'll shut up now."
Bruce returned his attention to the rooftops facing them. He was looking for Bart, who'd been given a gauntlet to run. If he could make it, unseen, despite his rather bright uniform, he wouldn't have to run it again. Not tonight, anyway. The rest of the Bats were out looking, too. This was try number four and counting.
"There." Bruce pointed to a quick flash that Wally almost missed.
"Oh come on man, how'd you even see that? I barely saw that."
Bruce just tapped his com.
"Impulse, back to the start line and try again."
"Oh man, I was so close..!" Wally heard an indignant sigh over the earpiece. "Fiiine."
"Is this all really necessary, anyway?" Wally asked.
"Yes. Shift position, I'll take the East End, you take the Diamond District."
"Now you're just getting rid of me." Wally said snarkily.
"Yes." Bruce leaned over and bit his ear before jumping off their ledge and sailing towards his new perch.
"Bastard!" Wally yelled after him, then took off. "Let's hope the fifth time's a charm..."
* * *
Bart and Wally had been stuck in the cave for hours every night, watching and learning to mimic Eobard and Thaddeus, courtesy a video feed streaming from their apartment into the Batcomputer. Wally had been thankful that Bart stopped getting quite as wistful when he watched his brother.
Wally never knew quite what to say, and Bart didn't want to talk about it, anyway.
Tomorrow was the big day.
Wally looked over his shoulder as Bruce put his hand on it, holding folded uniforms in his other arm.
"Everything is in place. Mr. Terrific will be operating the transporter, Superman will be on standby, and J'onn will be monitoring."
"If he shows up."
"He'll show up." Bruce handed him the yellow costume and Bart the black and green one. He'd just been back to Chicago to steal them out of Zoom's cache of extras. "Flash has just left Zoom a challenge in his mail. I've found no evidence that he is under nano-tech control, and he's arrogant enough not to go to Brannock before answering it himself."
"Made him an offer he can't refuse?" Wally said wryly as he looked over the costume.
"Heh."
Wally folded the yellow fabric back up again. He was apprehensive, but they couldn't be more prepared.
"I'm going out on patrol." Bruce said after a moment, stressing the I just enough to let him know he was to stay in tonight.
Wally'd already done twenty patrols of Central City today, two answers to League calls, plus a full day at the garage, and he admitted to himself he was as tired as he prolly looked.
"Alright kiddo, time to hit the hay." He said, standing up and stretching his arms over his head.
"But Wally, it's only..."
"After midnight. Bedtime. You're not a bat, you just hang out with them."
"Fine!" Bart said obstinately, after stifling a yawn.
They put the uniforms on a table near the computer, and Wally ushered Bart up the stairs.
He turned around to say goodnight, only to be caught in a swift embrace and pushed against the cold cave wall. Bruce kissed him hungrily, before working his lips down to his collarbone and back up the side of his neck, sliding under the waistband of Wally's sweatpants with a leather-clad hand.
Wally ran his own hands over the unrelenting kevlar, just relishing the attention until Bruce was just hugging him tight and let go, standing in front of him expressionlessly. Wally reached up and pushed the cowl off Bruce's face, revealing worried eyes.
"Oh Bruce..." Wally sighed and kissed him gently, holding his upper arms in his hands firmly. "Things are going to be fine. Supes will have our back, not to mention you."
Bruce nodded, stroking the side of Wally's face without a word before he turned and began walking to the Batmobile. Wally watched him leap in, retract the canopy, and roar away in a rush of blue flame.
* * *
Wally had trouble focusing all day at work. For all he got done, he might as well have not come in at all, but routine was good for clearing his head.
Lance and Harlan were bitching about their girlfriends while Wally hid under a Volkswagen TDI that belonged to one of the station's profilers. Great cars, but it was like they tried to make it a pain to change the oil.
"Hey Wally, shift's up in five man, don't get lost down there." Lance said, kicking his boot a little to punctuate the point. "Want to grab a beer?"
"Not tonight." Wally finished up and pushed back out, pulling off his grease-stained gloves. "Got some stuff to take care of."
"Alright. Catch ya Monday."
Wally nodded, then changed out of his gray coveralls and clocked out, making for the Flash Museum.
It was closed and dark, but Bart was there, staring up at the statue like he did. Wally didn't like coming here; it was an honour and all... but the statue, all the fanfare, was kinda embarrassing. He wasn't a godlike being like Clark or a mythical warrior like Diana; he was just a guy who got lucky.
He knew Bruce was here somewhere, being hidden through his own talents and a little Martian mojo, and Clark was somewhere high above the atmosphere. That knowledge was only just barely helping keep off nervous vibrations. Bart didn't look worried at all.
They made their way inside; the front door was already unlocked, and they walked through the central hall. All the statues were shadowy and seemed to melt out of the darkness skirting the red glow of the exit sign.
'I am now establishing the telepathic link.' J'onn said, and Wally became vaguely aware of Bart's mental presence from where he was zipping around looking everything over critically.
'Got ya loud and clear good buddy.'
And not a moment too soon. An instant later, Eobard was leaning against the Flash statue in the main hall, arms crossed and an arrogant look on his face. Thaddeus was next to him looking... less sure of himself.
Bruce only needed a second. In speedster time... it'd be a trick to keep him still. 'Just keep them talking.' he said to himself, then relayed it to Bart.
"Professor Zoom. Inertia." Wally said, crossing his own arms and looking particularly defiant.
A pair of darts began flying out of the eaves of the museum, moving painfully slow at relative speed.
"Flash. And Impulse, I presume. I don't believe we met."
"No big loss." Bart said spitefully. He had his eyes fixed on Thaddeus. "What're you doin' running around with this bozo, anyway? Since when is a bright yellow jumpsuit cool?"
The darts were halfway there.
"It came into fashion about the same time as red spandex." Eobard said. "So why'd you really want me here Flash? It isn't like you to take the initiative."
"I've been going through some changes lately."
"Oh yeah, like what?"
The darts struck tandem, prompting howls of surprise as they scrambled to find what had hit them. They went down quickly, and Wally and Bart caught them as they did, running them inside a vault in the basement, lined with lead and feet of steel; hopefully enough to keep out prying eyes and technology and all that hoodoo until they were picked up by the League.
Wally took off to a table they'd hidden the other costumes under, changing out of the red and into the yellow. He tossed Bart the other, and helped him put on a floppy blonde wig that secured on with Bat-super-glue or something and a series of tiny flexible pins. It would fool anyone, not to mention withstand their running speeds... and after he slipped in green contact lenses and pulled on the green goggles... he looked exactly like his brother.
They'd practiced the change, and had it down to an eighth of a second. Nanoseconds later, Wally took a deep breath and jabbed Bart with the needle full of tranquilizers Bats had whipped up special. Bart had his eyes squeezed shut and obviously wasn't enjoying it a bit.
Wally couldn't say he was, either. He gave himself his own dose, and immediately felt unsteady and his vision was blurry. With unsure hands, he hid all the stuff again, hoping he got it all out of sight like he was supposed to, and they leaned on each other hobbling a zig-zag path back to the main hall.
"Sometimes I really hate this job." He said as he just fell down onto the tiles, lacking the motor control to really do anything about it anymore.
Bart mumbled something that could have been an agreement as he fell next to him. They stared at each other blearily, Wally managing to hit Eobard's panic button in the suit, then find and squeeze Bart's arm before his eyes shut and he was out cold.
Part Thirty-Two: Bait & Switch
Eobard was currently residing in Chicago's South Side; another link between Brannock's agents. He'd been difficult to locate. A pair of dark curtains were hanging in the windows, but there were gaps enough for some things to be made out; enough to know they were both asleep. His scanning didn't pick up any security or existing surveillance, so Batman made his move.
The living room window was open; Bruce slipped in silently, skirting the edge of the spartan room and secreting surveillance in spots on the wall where plaster had been cracked down to the wood studs.
He noted some similarities between this apartment and Wally's; remains of junk food were scattered over the tables, empty pizza boxes, a few comic books were laying open here and there, and CDs resting next to a portable player had the same sort of covers as the ones now scattered around the manor, with flames, bulky men in armour, spiked lettering or other themes the genre seemed to prefer. He made a note of it, then moved on to looking through a few pieces of mail on a side table; all innocuous, but he examined them carefully, anyway. Bills, a note from the landlord about a leak, and lingerie catalogues addressed to a woman he knew to live down the hall.
Satisfied enough for the time being, Bruce slipped out again and made for an abandoned warehouse a few blocks over, where he called for the wing to descend and took off back toward home.
He discussed his findings with Alfred on the way back; it always helped him put things in perspective.
The hour was late, getting on sunrise, and he made haste, knowing Alfred wouldn't go to bed until he was back home. Robin and Batgirl had long since signed off. Wally very rarely patrolled Central City after 11, and being one to hold more normal hours, was undoubtedly asleep already. He was waiting for him almost every night since the first time Alfred told him he'd come over, and he'd found him in the same spot ever since.
Bruce smiled pushed the plane a little faster.
He got back to the cave, checked the link to the video feeds, then finally pulled off his uniform and assured Alfred he was going to bed, and he should do the same.
True to his promise, Bruce pulled on a robe and headed upstairs, the exhaustion of a long night finally catching up with him, as it always did in these moments. His quiet steps through the dark manor were slow, and he couldn't help but glance out the front windows as he passed them. If Joker was coming here, it wouldn't be at 6am, but it was reassuring to look out and see nothing but the sun rising high over Gotham.
During the day, one could almost believe Gotham didn't need saving. Almost.
Bruce pulled himself away from the sight and walked upstairs to find his other reason to hope.
* * *
Matches Malone and his old pal from Kansas City, Swifty Patterson, sat drinking black coffee in an outdoor cafe`. 'Matches' was chewing on the end of a matchstick and looking around warily, while 'Swifty' was smoking a cigarette and rambling on about the upcoming hockey season.
Wally's red hair had been covered up with a short brown wig and they both wore black suits, with the jackets slung over their seats and their white shirt sleeves rolled up, with thin black ties and dark sunglasses. Bruce had been a little skeptical when they'd stopped in a convenience store and he'd picked up a pack of Marlboros, but had been assured that it was something Wally used to do in college, and as long as he didn't make a habit again, no harm done.
Bruce had to admit it added a lot to his character, who had humour drier than he'd ever imagined Wally could pull off, and a kind of arrogance about the way he held himself that was also new. He assured Bruce that he'd watched enough gangster movies to do a decent job, which was turning out to be true.
Having Matches be visible from time to time was necessary to keep the guise above suspicion, and it'd also been an opportunity for Wally to practice being a criminal, even if they weren't actually going to be doing any real undercover work. Just lunch in a notorious low-level mobster hangout.
"Fuckin' Mr. Pink over here, hi-larious." Wally said between puffs of smoke that swirled around his face before dissipating into the air. He leaned back in his chair, casually throwing one leg over his knee. "Who we meetin' here, anyway?"
"Old pal Eel, back up from a gig in Vegas." Bruce spit the matchstick on the ground and sipped some coffee. "We worked for this clown Black Mask back before he got pinched."
"Oh yeah?"
"Started bumpin' off guys and gettin' all bing. Guess the Bat finally got 'im."
"Huh." Wally stubbed out his butt in the ashtray, then began adding more sugar to his coffee. "Ain't seen the Bat. I hear he's not even human. Some kinda vampire or somethin', fangs an' all."
"Nah. I saw him one time. Ugly as hell, though." Bruce smirked over his cup.
"I bet." Wally replied with a grin.
"Matches you wacky bugger!" A skinny guy in white sunglasses and the inevitable black suit gave him a punch on the arm and sat down in an empty chair, waving the waitress over with a flirty smile. "You mugs gettin' somethin'?"
"Yep." Bruce gestured at Wally. "Eel, this is Swifty from Kansas City. Kid could outrun anybody."
"That so?" Eel looked up at the impatient looking stick of a woman in a white apron and black dress. "I'll get whatever soup's on special and a mess of those dinner rolls you got."
"Steak sandwich, peppers and onions, hold the cheese." Bruce said when she shifted her inquiring glance to him.
"Four grilled cheese sannwiches, tomato soup, an' a bottle of Guinness." Wally said, raising one eyebrow and grinning suggestively at her.
She nodded absently and walked back inside, three leering gazes following her.
"You guys talkin' 'bout the Bat? I hate that putrid punk. Think he's got me on a leash, he does. Why I got out of this damn place, that and you bein' so damn foolish there Matches. Heck were you thinkin'?"
"I figgered the boss knew what he was doin'."
"Damn lucky you didn't get hauled off in nippers."
"Nah. You worry too much O'Brian. Needta relax, you'll give yourself a freakin' ulcer." Bruce said, pulling out another match to chew on.
"Says Mr. Cool here." Wally added with a smirk.
"Anyway, got no kick now. What's your story, kid?" Eel said to 'Swifty' with a grin.
"Gettin' my nose wet. Me and Matches go way back."
"He's a good guy, aside from bein' off his freakin' nut." Eel said, gesturing his head in Bruce's direction. "Knows how to play it, though. Mask was awful keen on you takin' a slug for him."
Wally raised an eyebrow at that, and Bruce just shrugged.
"Just a scratch."
"Uh-huh." Eel shook his head. "So, how long you gonna be in town Swifty?"
"Still gettin' the lay." Wally said with a haughty grin. "Likin' it so far."
* * *
Wally was still giggling hours later, dressed as Shadow and crouching next to Bruce on top of City Hall.
"Man, that was right out of The Godfather! I can't believe you've never even seen it!"
"I don't watch many movies."
"So you've said. Pity. It's a masterpiece of cinemas. I still remember the first time I saw it, man that was awesome. I saw the whole series in one day at this marathon this tiny theatre by the orphanage ran, me and my buddy Hick. So great. We got in trouble for missing curfew, but it was totally worth it."
"Hn."
"And Casino man. I must have seen that a hundred times. And Goodfellas?" Wally shifted into a Danny DeVito impression. "What do ya mean, funny? Let me understand this cause, I don't know maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but I'm funny how? I mean, funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh... I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny?"
Wally started laughing and clutching his stomach, while Bruce just gave him a steady look, prompting him to sober up and cough.
"Uh, yeah, I'll shut up now."
Bruce returned his attention to the rooftops facing them. He was looking for Bart, who'd been given a gauntlet to run. If he could make it, unseen, despite his rather bright uniform, he wouldn't have to run it again. Not tonight, anyway. The rest of the Bats were out looking, too. This was try number four and counting.
"There." Bruce pointed to a quick flash that Wally almost missed.
"Oh come on man, how'd you even see that? I barely saw that."
Bruce just tapped his com.
"Impulse, back to the start line and try again."
"Oh man, I was so close..!" Wally heard an indignant sigh over the earpiece. "Fiiine."
"Is this all really necessary, anyway?" Wally asked.
"Yes. Shift position, I'll take the East End, you take the Diamond District."
"Now you're just getting rid of me." Wally said snarkily.
"Yes." Bruce leaned over and bit his ear before jumping off their ledge and sailing towards his new perch.
"Bastard!" Wally yelled after him, then took off. "Let's hope the fifth time's a charm..."
* * *
Bart and Wally had been stuck in the cave for hours every night, watching and learning to mimic Eobard and Thaddeus, courtesy a video feed streaming from their apartment into the Batcomputer. Wally had been thankful that Bart stopped getting quite as wistful when he watched his brother.
Wally never knew quite what to say, and Bart didn't want to talk about it, anyway.
Tomorrow was the big day.
Wally looked over his shoulder as Bruce put his hand on it, holding folded uniforms in his other arm.
"Everything is in place. Mr. Terrific will be operating the transporter, Superman will be on standby, and J'onn will be monitoring."
"If he shows up."
"He'll show up." Bruce handed him the yellow costume and Bart the black and green one. He'd just been back to Chicago to steal them out of Zoom's cache of extras. "Flash has just left Zoom a challenge in his mail. I've found no evidence that he is under nano-tech control, and he's arrogant enough not to go to Brannock before answering it himself."
"Made him an offer he can't refuse?" Wally said wryly as he looked over the costume.
"Heh."
Wally folded the yellow fabric back up again. He was apprehensive, but they couldn't be more prepared.
"I'm going out on patrol." Bruce said after a moment, stressing the I just enough to let him know he was to stay in tonight.
Wally'd already done twenty patrols of Central City today, two answers to League calls, plus a full day at the garage, and he admitted to himself he was as tired as he prolly looked.
"Alright kiddo, time to hit the hay." He said, standing up and stretching his arms over his head.
"But Wally, it's only..."
"After midnight. Bedtime. You're not a bat, you just hang out with them."
"Fine!" Bart said obstinately, after stifling a yawn.
They put the uniforms on a table near the computer, and Wally ushered Bart up the stairs.
He turned around to say goodnight, only to be caught in a swift embrace and pushed against the cold cave wall. Bruce kissed him hungrily, before working his lips down to his collarbone and back up the side of his neck, sliding under the waistband of Wally's sweatpants with a leather-clad hand.
Wally ran his own hands over the unrelenting kevlar, just relishing the attention until Bruce was just hugging him tight and let go, standing in front of him expressionlessly. Wally reached up and pushed the cowl off Bruce's face, revealing worried eyes.
"Oh Bruce..." Wally sighed and kissed him gently, holding his upper arms in his hands firmly. "Things are going to be fine. Supes will have our back, not to mention you."
Bruce nodded, stroking the side of Wally's face without a word before he turned and began walking to the Batmobile. Wally watched him leap in, retract the canopy, and roar away in a rush of blue flame.
* * *
Wally had trouble focusing all day at work. For all he got done, he might as well have not come in at all, but routine was good for clearing his head.
Lance and Harlan were bitching about their girlfriends while Wally hid under a Volkswagen TDI that belonged to one of the station's profilers. Great cars, but it was like they tried to make it a pain to change the oil.
"Hey Wally, shift's up in five man, don't get lost down there." Lance said, kicking his boot a little to punctuate the point. "Want to grab a beer?"
"Not tonight." Wally finished up and pushed back out, pulling off his grease-stained gloves. "Got some stuff to take care of."
"Alright. Catch ya Monday."
Wally nodded, then changed out of his gray coveralls and clocked out, making for the Flash Museum.
It was closed and dark, but Bart was there, staring up at the statue like he did. Wally didn't like coming here; it was an honour and all... but the statue, all the fanfare, was kinda embarrassing. He wasn't a godlike being like Clark or a mythical warrior like Diana; he was just a guy who got lucky.
He knew Bruce was here somewhere, being hidden through his own talents and a little Martian mojo, and Clark was somewhere high above the atmosphere. That knowledge was only just barely helping keep off nervous vibrations. Bart didn't look worried at all.
They made their way inside; the front door was already unlocked, and they walked through the central hall. All the statues were shadowy and seemed to melt out of the darkness skirting the red glow of the exit sign.
'I am now establishing the telepathic link.' J'onn said, and Wally became vaguely aware of Bart's mental presence from where he was zipping around looking everything over critically.
'Got ya loud and clear good buddy.'
And not a moment too soon. An instant later, Eobard was leaning against the Flash statue in the main hall, arms crossed and an arrogant look on his face. Thaddeus was next to him looking... less sure of himself.
Bruce only needed a second. In speedster time... it'd be a trick to keep him still. 'Just keep them talking.' he said to himself, then relayed it to Bart.
"Professor Zoom. Inertia." Wally said, crossing his own arms and looking particularly defiant.
A pair of darts began flying out of the eaves of the museum, moving painfully slow at relative speed.
"Flash. And Impulse, I presume. I don't believe we met."
"No big loss." Bart said spitefully. He had his eyes fixed on Thaddeus. "What're you doin' running around with this bozo, anyway? Since when is a bright yellow jumpsuit cool?"
The darts were halfway there.
"It came into fashion about the same time as red spandex." Eobard said. "So why'd you really want me here Flash? It isn't like you to take the initiative."
"I've been going through some changes lately."
"Oh yeah, like what?"
The darts struck tandem, prompting howls of surprise as they scrambled to find what had hit them. They went down quickly, and Wally and Bart caught them as they did, running them inside a vault in the basement, lined with lead and feet of steel; hopefully enough to keep out prying eyes and technology and all that hoodoo until they were picked up by the League.
Wally took off to a table they'd hidden the other costumes under, changing out of the red and into the yellow. He tossed Bart the other, and helped him put on a floppy blonde wig that secured on with Bat-super-glue or something and a series of tiny flexible pins. It would fool anyone, not to mention withstand their running speeds... and after he slipped in green contact lenses and pulled on the green goggles... he looked exactly like his brother.
They'd practiced the change, and had it down to an eighth of a second. Nanoseconds later, Wally took a deep breath and jabbed Bart with the needle full of tranquilizers Bats had whipped up special. Bart had his eyes squeezed shut and obviously wasn't enjoying it a bit.
Wally couldn't say he was, either. He gave himself his own dose, and immediately felt unsteady and his vision was blurry. With unsure hands, he hid all the stuff again, hoping he got it all out of sight like he was supposed to, and they leaned on each other hobbling a zig-zag path back to the main hall.
"Sometimes I really hate this job." He said as he just fell down onto the tiles, lacking the motor control to really do anything about it anymore.
Bart mumbled something that could have been an agreement as he fell next to him. They stared at each other blearily, Wally managing to hit Eobard's panic button in the suit, then find and squeeze Bart's arm before his eyes shut and he was out cold.