Two Halloween fics: Haloween Patrol, PG, Dick/Babs, & House on the Hill, PG, Bruce, Diana
Title: Halloween Patrol
Author: Cold Nostalgia
Characters: Dick Grayson/Robin, Barbara Gordon/Batgirl
Continuity: DCU Silver Age?
Genre: General/Humour
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Word count: 649
Prompt used: 1.Black
Warnings: None.
“This is it?” Barbara grumbled, the very picture of disappointment.
Beside her, Dick shrugged easily in his costume, he nodded wordlessly and offered her a piece of candy from a white paper bag.
“But it’s Halloween!” she cried in disgust, her arms wide. “Where is everyone?”
“Haven’t the faintest.” Dick replied, shrugging once more. He extended his arm towards her, rattling the bag of candy in his hand. “Sure you don’t want one? They’re pretty good.”
“Dick Grayson, how could you even think about junk food at a time like this?”
Dick looked at her and deflated somewhat. “When do you want me to think about it?”
“Well, not right now!” she shrieked.
Barbara looked at him in utter disbelief. It was Halloween, in a moment now Scarecrow was going to ride right into the centre of the diamond district on the back of a giant pumpkin and unleash enough fear gas to permanently put Gotham City out of commission. Poison Ivy was out there somewhere, hitting every costume party, seducing and robbing every man that so much as even glanced in her direction. Mad Hatter was…
Well, Barbara didn’t even want to go there, but whatever he was doing it probably wasn’t legal.
Dick stared at her for a few moments, his mind working overtime. He popped a star shaped piece of liquorice into his mouth and enjoyed the bittersweet sensations on his tongue.
“Ah,” he said finally.
“Ah?” she parroted back
“I see where you’re coming from.”
Barbara straightened, placing her hands on her hips. “Oh, do you now?”
“Indeed I do.” Dick flashed a black-toothed grin at her, and Barbara fought the urge to slap it off him. “You think we’re going to see some serious action tonight, don’t you?”
Barbara bristled against the chill of the night air and shrugged. “Maybe.”
Dick’s grin widened, the stains against the pale moonlight made it appear unwholesome, unholy, and just plain mean. “Yeah, I thought Halloween would be pure hell during my first year too.”
Barbara’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”
Dick folded his arms across his chest easily and looked at her. “Tonight we’ll be lucky if we come across a mugger down some alley.”
Barbara’s face fell. “But…”
“Yeah, I know,” said Dick, waving her unfinished comment away. “You probably spent months preparing for tonight, memorising tactics and whatnot, but believe me it was a waste of time.”
“…But…”
“It’s beneath them, you know,” he went on undeterred. “Nah, they don’t bother themselves with Halloween all that much. Except for Joker, of course,” Dick added. “But he’s in Arkham right now.”
Barbara grit her teeth. “You mean to tell me that the likes of Riddler and Catwoman have taken the night off?”
“Not the night off,” Dick amended. “They’re all out there scheming their little schemes, plotting their little plots,” he shrugged. “They’re just not going to make any public appearances tonight.”
Barbara slumped, countless days spent practicing various martial arts techniques, pouring over books with anything and everything relating to the occult flashed before her eyes.
“You didn’t waste too much time getting ready for tonight, did you?” he asked, a curiously concerned expression on his face. “’Cause if you did, well, that would just plain suck.”
“Of course not,” she lied smoothly. “I just expected it to be a little bit more hectic, that’s all.”
He nodded briefly and Barbara was reminded of Batman. “Well that’s good.”
Dick clucked his tongue and surveyed the skyline. “Why don’t we do one last patrol of the Westside and call it a night.”
Barbara shrugged, her enthusiasm for the evening ahead already gone. “Sure.”
In perfect synchronisation two grappling guns were produced and fired.
“And Barbara,” she paused and looked at him, two rows of blackened teeth and gums laughed at her. “You’re a rotten liar.”
Barbara glared at him hotly and began planning her revenge.
Title: The House on the Hill
Author: Cold Nostalgia
Characters: Bruce Wayne/Batman, Diana/Wonder Woman
Continuity: General DCU
Genre: General/Humour
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Word count: 272
Prompt used: 37. Mists/Fog
Warnings: None.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Diana said quietly, turning to greet the approaching figure “Not after the speech you gave back in the Watchtower.”
Bruce sighed and crossed the distance between them. “I changed my mind.”
“And I’m glad you did,” she said, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. “I didn’t want to go in by myself.”
Bruce grunted. “That bad, huh?”
She shrugged uneasily in her costume. “I suppose.”
Two sets of eyes gazed upon the house on the hill; a dark silhouette bathed in silver moonlight and surrounded by pallid, ashen mists. In another time, in another place, they might have called it beautiful. Majestic, even.
As it was, the house on the hill, their final destination, only invoked feelings of distress. Leaving them ill at ease with themselves and each other.
“Clark’s already gone inside.” Diana found herself saying in an effort to break the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air.
“He would,” Bruce grunted.
Diana eyed him for a moment. “Didn’t you come as Sherlock Holmes last year?”
“No, I was Poirot last year,” he corrected, straightening his deerstalker. Bruce turned and looked at her. “Who are you suppose to be?”
“Xena,” Diana replied. “A mighty warrior who fights for the betterment and freedom of others.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
Diana nodded reluctantly.
Bruce took a step forward and stopped, glaring at the thick fog in front of them. “Ollie needs to ease up on the dry ice,” he complained to his unenthusiastic companion in arms. “He’s going to get someone killed one of these days.”
Diana nodded. “Agreed.”
Author: Cold Nostalgia
Characters: Dick Grayson/Robin, Barbara Gordon/Batgirl
Continuity: DCU Silver Age?
Genre: General/Humour
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Word count: 649
Prompt used: 1.Black
Warnings: None.
“This is it?” Barbara grumbled, the very picture of disappointment.
Beside her, Dick shrugged easily in his costume, he nodded wordlessly and offered her a piece of candy from a white paper bag.
“But it’s Halloween!” she cried in disgust, her arms wide. “Where is everyone?”
“Haven’t the faintest.” Dick replied, shrugging once more. He extended his arm towards her, rattling the bag of candy in his hand. “Sure you don’t want one? They’re pretty good.”
“Dick Grayson, how could you even think about junk food at a time like this?”
Dick looked at her and deflated somewhat. “When do you want me to think about it?”
“Well, not right now!” she shrieked.
Barbara looked at him in utter disbelief. It was Halloween, in a moment now Scarecrow was going to ride right into the centre of the diamond district on the back of a giant pumpkin and unleash enough fear gas to permanently put Gotham City out of commission. Poison Ivy was out there somewhere, hitting every costume party, seducing and robbing every man that so much as even glanced in her direction. Mad Hatter was…
Well, Barbara didn’t even want to go there, but whatever he was doing it probably wasn’t legal.
Dick stared at her for a few moments, his mind working overtime. He popped a star shaped piece of liquorice into his mouth and enjoyed the bittersweet sensations on his tongue.
“Ah,” he said finally.
“Ah?” she parroted back
“I see where you’re coming from.”
Barbara straightened, placing her hands on her hips. “Oh, do you now?”
“Indeed I do.” Dick flashed a black-toothed grin at her, and Barbara fought the urge to slap it off him. “You think we’re going to see some serious action tonight, don’t you?”
Barbara bristled against the chill of the night air and shrugged. “Maybe.”
Dick’s grin widened, the stains against the pale moonlight made it appear unwholesome, unholy, and just plain mean. “Yeah, I thought Halloween would be pure hell during my first year too.”
Barbara’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”
Dick folded his arms across his chest easily and looked at her. “Tonight we’ll be lucky if we come across a mugger down some alley.”
Barbara’s face fell. “But…”
“Yeah, I know,” said Dick, waving her unfinished comment away. “You probably spent months preparing for tonight, memorising tactics and whatnot, but believe me it was a waste of time.”
“…But…”
“It’s beneath them, you know,” he went on undeterred. “Nah, they don’t bother themselves with Halloween all that much. Except for Joker, of course,” Dick added. “But he’s in Arkham right now.”
Barbara grit her teeth. “You mean to tell me that the likes of Riddler and Catwoman have taken the night off?”
“Not the night off,” Dick amended. “They’re all out there scheming their little schemes, plotting their little plots,” he shrugged. “They’re just not going to make any public appearances tonight.”
Barbara slumped, countless days spent practicing various martial arts techniques, pouring over books with anything and everything relating to the occult flashed before her eyes.
“You didn’t waste too much time getting ready for tonight, did you?” he asked, a curiously concerned expression on his face. “’Cause if you did, well, that would just plain suck.”
“Of course not,” she lied smoothly. “I just expected it to be a little bit more hectic, that’s all.”
He nodded briefly and Barbara was reminded of Batman. “Well that’s good.”
Dick clucked his tongue and surveyed the skyline. “Why don’t we do one last patrol of the Westside and call it a night.”
Barbara shrugged, her enthusiasm for the evening ahead already gone. “Sure.”
In perfect synchronisation two grappling guns were produced and fired.
“And Barbara,” she paused and looked at him, two rows of blackened teeth and gums laughed at her. “You’re a rotten liar.”
Barbara glared at him hotly and began planning her revenge.
Title: The House on the Hill
Author: Cold Nostalgia
Characters: Bruce Wayne/Batman, Diana/Wonder Woman
Continuity: General DCU
Genre: General/Humour
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Word count: 272
Prompt used: 37. Mists/Fog
Warnings: None.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Diana said quietly, turning to greet the approaching figure “Not after the speech you gave back in the Watchtower.”
Bruce sighed and crossed the distance between them. “I changed my mind.”
“And I’m glad you did,” she said, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. “I didn’t want to go in by myself.”
Bruce grunted. “That bad, huh?”
She shrugged uneasily in her costume. “I suppose.”
Two sets of eyes gazed upon the house on the hill; a dark silhouette bathed in silver moonlight and surrounded by pallid, ashen mists. In another time, in another place, they might have called it beautiful. Majestic, even.
As it was, the house on the hill, their final destination, only invoked feelings of distress. Leaving them ill at ease with themselves and each other.
“Clark’s already gone inside.” Diana found herself saying in an effort to break the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air.
“He would,” Bruce grunted.
Diana eyed him for a moment. “Didn’t you come as Sherlock Holmes last year?”
“No, I was Poirot last year,” he corrected, straightening his deerstalker. Bruce turned and looked at her. “Who are you suppose to be?”
“Xena,” Diana replied. “A mighty warrior who fights for the betterment and freedom of others.”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
Diana nodded reluctantly.
Bruce took a step forward and stopped, glaring at the thick fog in front of them. “Ollie needs to ease up on the dry ice,” he complained to his unenthusiastic companion in arms. “He’s going to get someone killed one of these days.”
Diana nodded. “Agreed.”