This was written purely to be silly. And it was just a what if scenario I shared with my beta. And she convinced me to try it out. So all credit is hers!
Geeky- Thank ye, homeskillet. This is one doodle can't be undid. wink
Disclaimer: I own naught!
This is set after JLU episode: Great Brain Robbery.
Chapter Uno: The Best Revenge
"I don't think this is the best idea for revenge," Zatanna said solemnly. "He's bound to piece it together. I don't want to be in the middle of that."
Diana nodded her head. "No, you're right. But still..."
"Still..." Zatanna agreed with her.
The two women thought it over silently.
Zatanna caught Diana's gaze. "Still it would be funny."
"Yes. I agree," the Amazon said with a smile. "That's why I suggested it."
Once again the two women were quiet while thinking it over.
"Besides, it's magic. And you know Bruce's feelings on magic... " Zatanna added with a frown.
"Exactly. He'd be less inclined to investigate." Diana knew that her statement was a flat out lie. But she had to try.
"Hm..." Once again the dark-haired magician was deep in thought.
"But he'll never stand me up again," Diana retorted firmly. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "He knows better."
"True. It's pretty pathetic, if you ask me. And what number is this?"
"The third time."
Zatanna made a face at that and nodded. "He does know better. It's strange... I'm more than sure he's head over heels about you. But he can't seem to commit."
Diana smiled at her words, although she couldn't help but turn somber. "Yes... I don't understand why."
It was plainly obvious to Zatanna. "Because he likes you particularly more than he's ever liked... anyone else." At that, her face cast downward. Zatanna was once, and still is, a Bruce reject.
"I'm sorry." Diana had to offer an apology after she caught sight of Zatanna's pained expression.
"You know, he's hurt a lot of girls in the past; whether it was intended or not. His motives and intentions are admirable when concerning his mission. But when the opposite sex comes into play, thou shall not tread." Suddenly Zatanna had more than enough gusto to make the plan work. "Oh it's on. This'll be so fun."
"And again, you're sure it's safe?"
"Positive. It'll only be for twenty four hours. It happened to Flash remember?"
Diana nodded. She remembered distinctly when Lex Luthor and Wally West switched brains. Wally wouldn't stop talking about it for a week straight.
To make things better, an idea struck the two of them simultaneously. "Flash!"
"You know, Wally is a better candidate than our previous choice," Zatanna grinned.
"I couldn't agree more."
Without wasting another second, Zatanna stated her verbal command out loud and backwards; specifics put into place, of course. And with that, the spell was set.
They only had 24 hours.
The next day-
The night before, Wally had come home late. That was an understatement. He technically got home very early. Four A.M. to be exact. But it was still quite dark out, so it didn't feel as early as it truly was.
Either way, he knew he was going to be supremely exhausted when he heard his alarm go off. And it did go off. Loudly. Though, he was surprised that it was at seven. He hadn't remembered setting it for that early, but it was going off... and it was blaring.
Prying one eye open, Wally looked around for the source of the noise. Surprisingly, he hadn't felt as tired as his mind told him.
He moved closer to the nightstand to reach for the alarm clock. It was odd, usually it wasn't as far away as it seemed to be. And the actual alarm itself had changed considerably. Even the numbers displayed on the front were in a different shade of green.
His brain still not recognizing a complete change, Wally pressed the front button. Nothing happened. He pressed every button on the thing... nothing happened. The annoying alarm still buzzed loudly, echoing through his head.
With one final heave, Wally grabbed the cord and ripped it out of the wall.
With a happy sigh, and while quite feeling satisfied, he dropped it onto the floor and rested his head back onto his pillow; the very same pillow that now felt increasingly like silk. Weren't his pillow cases cotton?
Pushing the thought aside, Wally was ready to fall asleep again. Not a moment before completely nodding off, he heard someone enter the room.
"Good morning, Master Bruce. Sleep well?"
Wally stiffened. Why was someone calling him Bruce? Why was someone in his room?!
The person walked over to the window and drew back the curtains. Bright daylight poured in, filling the room and reaching Wally's eyes.
Instinctively he covered his face. His arms didn't move as fast as he was used to. He actually felt like he was in slow motion.
It only took a second more to realize that someone was really in his room and that it wasn't a dream.
"Aaah!" Clambering out of bed, Wally drew back the covers and flew onto the carpet.
It more than startled him that he wasn't going fast. Not even in the slightest. This concerned him more so than the person apparently invading his home.
Wally stared at the plush carpeting. Didn't he have laundry to fold? And wasn't his room in desperate need of vacuuming? This looked far too immaculate. He focused his gaze on his body and his eyes roved upward. Right away he noticed his navy blue boxers. Those weren't his, were they? He gazed over his well-defined torso. Had he become more muscular over night?
Something was awry.
"Master Bruce? Are you alright?" A British voice asked. British?! What the?!
Wally flipped around and saw an older gentleman, who actually looked slightly familiar, staring back at him.
The man looked harmless, but in this day and age... you had to be careful. Not to mention, his powers seemed to be null at the moment.
Wally backed up slowly. "Look buddy, I..." He stopped. His voice was different.
Finally taking an extra second to look around the room, Wally noticed that the place was more than immaculate and, not to mention, huge. The room looked to be the size of his apartment.
Ignoring the British man, Wally eyed a gaudy gold mirror on a far wall. He ran over to it. Something was very wrong. Very wrong.
Prepping himself for what he was about to see, Wally closed his eyes and jumped in front of the mirror. Immediately he opened them. And then his jaw flew to the floor.
"Aaaaaaah! Why am I Bruce Wayne?!"
It explained the butler and the room. But... how on earth?!
The Englishman sighed and shook his head while muttering something to himself. Without another word, he walked out the bedroom door and closed it behind him.
Wally looked over at the door and realized Jeeves had left.
"Wait! Come back!"
Bruce's eyes shot open rather suddenly as light began filtering into the bedroom. He was now more than aware that he had slept through his alarm. It was a strange sensation, as he usually woke up before it went off. More so, Alfred would have come in to meander with morning duties, prompting him to at least open his eyes.
But just as soon as he had opened his eyes, his brain hadn't registered anything normal. Silently it startled him. It seemed as though his bedroom had suddenly become the size of a shoe box over night. And his comforter smelled funny.
His mind ran over the possibilities.
Was he being held hostage? No, last night's uneventful patrol led to nothing.
After much experience of dealing with such things, it certainly didn't feel like a dream.
And he had the worst case of cotton mouth ever.
Carefully, Bruce threw back the covers and looked down at his feet. He was wearing mixed matched socks. Purple and green. Lovely.
Strangely enough, his navy blue boxers had been replaced with soft flannel red pants. It seemed completely normal, except the pants at had the Flash lightning bolt scattered about them.
Fearing the worst, and while not putting out any effort to actually take in his surroundings, Bruce set out to find a mirror.
He ran over to the bedroom door. Or at least he tried. His body reacted much faster than he had intended. It one swift and sudden movement, Bruce's feet became tangle together and he hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. A sack of potatoes that now had a fresh rug burn on its chin from the carpet.
Bruce made a face while pushing himself up. Carpet that needed vacuuming, that is.
After getting used to the strange humming that his body produced whenever he moved, Bruce stood up slowly. He didn't desire to fall at a rapid pace again, so he crawled on his hands and purple and green socks to the bedroom door.
Bruce stared down at his forearm for a moment. The light dusting of hair that graced any arm had caught his eye.
It was red. Red.
His mind was telling him not to get up and run. He wasn't accustomed to it yet. He could hurt himself or worse.
Bruce could count on his hands how many times he hadn't listened to reason. Now was one of them.
In what literally felt like one billionth of a second, Bruce stood up and charged for the door. He caught the handle just fine, but he hadn't stopped in time and he rammed through the door instead. A clean man sized hole now adorned the cheap fiberboard.
Shaking his head, which made him dizzier in the process, Bruce finally felt somewhat in control of himself.
He wasn't jumping to conclusions yet. Not until he'd seen his reflection.
I will not jump to conclusions, I will not...
After eyeing the open door next to the newly damaged one, Bruce turned the corner and entered. He was now standing in a blank, white bathroom. It had held the distinct smell of chlorine.
With that, Bruce turned his head slowly to face the reflective glass next to the sink, or as slowly as he could control in his anxious state.
His jaw went slack. The young, freckled face.
No? Yes? Bad? Let me know!