This story is dedicated to Noel.

Disclaimer: Standard disclaimers apply

Synopsis: Dick sees something he'd rather not in the kitchen.

Rating: R

Cherry-flavored Revelry


Dick couldn't remember every feeling quite as… run over by a Mac truck as he was feeling at that moment, when he woke.

The room was dark, and he couldn't even move in bed, he was so stiff. He couldn't remember where he was, or how he'd got there. All he knew was that the bed was kind of… excessively firm beneath him.

Well, the only thing that was going to cure stiffness was getting up off his ass (or back as the case may be) and moving around. A hot shower would help. Then he could catalogue his list of woes in the bathroom while he attempted to reconstruct whatever the hell had happened last night.

Slowly, he dragged himself to his feet, and found the lamp on the nightstand. He realized he was in his room at the Titans Tower in New York. Looking around the room, he scratched the back of his head. They must have put in new light bulbs or something—the room had a purple-pink haze to it instead of the normal amber glow of Edison bulbs.

It was probably Toni. When all else failed—blame the kids. Or Roy. Roy probably thought that purple light bulbs gave it a more 'party' type atmosphere.

Dick grabbed his robe off the back of the door before opening it. Just reaching over his head was kind of painful. Maybe he really DID get hit by a Mac truck.

Entering the bathroom, Dick found no towels. If it was Saturday, it was laundry day. If he didn't make them wash towels and other basic necessities, they'd never get washed even once a week. Maybe there were some clean ones in the dryer that hadn't been brought around yet.

Passing down the hall, he squinted against the whiteness of the lights. Was Roy using HIS room as a love shack? Is that why his room was lighted in purple?

He decided he was going to kill Roy over and over again, until he was dead—if for no other reason than it'd work the knots out of the muscles in his back to throw some good punches at the archer.

Passing the kitchen, he caught sight of his red-headed friend near the refrigerator. The door to the fridge was opened, and he seemed to be enjoying himself emensely. Doing the Batly thing, he snuck up on the archer.

"What're you doing?" Dick inquired loudly once he was standing beside his friend.

Roy let out a 'yeep' that he hadn't heard since he caught Tim ogling Catwoman from a distance. The fridge door flew opened and Dick saw Roy's pants at his knees, and he was assaulting a jar of maraschino cherries. "It's not what it looks like!"

Dick blinked twice, realized he was staring and looked away. "Um… isn't that… like… COLD?" Was he being rational about this?

"That's ok. Yesterday it was a frozen chicken. At least he's moving up to foods that aren't icy and frosty."

Turning, Dick saw Argent leaning against the doorway. And where was his mask? Good-bye secret identity.

"It wasn't a chicken. It was a grouse," Roy explained indignantly.

"WHATEVER." Argent pressed one heal against the door frame. "Screwing a bird is screwing a bird, right Dick?"

Dick blinked twice, and then walked out the door right past her.

The lights were flicking in the hall. He'd check the florescent lights, but he didn't feel like moving right now, much less climbing a ladder. He was going to get his towel, get a shower, and try to pretend the scene in the kitchen never happened.

It wasn't to be, however. He was stopped by Argent in the hall. She seemed to just appear in front of him. "Hey, don't hold the kitchen thing against Roy. He's angsting over Cheshire. So what if he's using food to work his way through it?"

"Eating your way through a problem is one thing. Having sex with food is another." He kept walking. Damn, this hall way had gotten longer or something. No, he was just tired and stiff, and every step was like walking a thousand miles. Which was why this trip was taking forever.

"Ok, ok. So he shouldn't be boinking the food. I mean, we all have to eat that stuff, right?"

If Dick had anything in his stomach, he'd have thrown up, just then. Good thing he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, huh? "Look, I just want to get a shower and forget today ever happened." And work on remembering last night.

"Ok. You look like you've been put through the wringer anyways. But um… I was just wondering if you could do a favor for me?"

"As long as it doesn't involve the kitchen," Dick answered peevishly.

"Well, I was just wondering if you could tell Batman something."

Dick was wondering if he could go back to bed and start the last few days over. "I can't like promise a response or anything."

Toni smiled. "That's ok. Just tell him… thanks."

"Can I ask for what?" Dick's curiosity had officially gotten the better of him. Where the hell was the laundry room door?

"Umm… well, he and Arrowette fixed me up with Plastic Man. I'm sure it was a joke, but… it turned out to be…" she blushed. "Great. Better than great."

Involuntarily, Dick shuddered.

"Just tell him I said thanks, kay?"

Grabbing a door handle that had better be the laundry room door, he nodded. "I will." Trying to escape the situation, he wrenched the door opened and crossed the threshold.

"What the hell?" he muttered, looking around. It was his room. He couldn't have gotten himself THAT turned around, could he have. Turning to ask Argent if she knew what was up, he saw the hall way was empty on both sides.

Sighing, he closed the door behind him, and stared at the purple-lit room. This was, perhaps, God's way of saying 'go back to sleep.'

Moving to the bed, he noticed something on the pillow—a mint. Carefully crawling into the perfectly made bed, he pulled the covers over him and closed his eyes. This was some kind of twisted April Fools joke, he was sure. Roy was NOT getting the better of him this year.

* * *

Beyond, in the darkness, he heard snickers. "We can tie him up."


All roads lead to Roy.

"Well, you're supposed to do something mean to the first person who falls asleep," Tim said thoughtfully in the great, dark beyond.

"That's the spirit. I know. Lets glue his eye-lashes together. That'll be awesome."

There was silence. Dick knew better than to give away his hand.

"Um… he's still dangerous when he can't see. Maybe we can just squirt shaving cream down his boxers."

Roy sighed. "You are such a waste of human flesh. I have to come up with all the ideas."

Slowly, Dick peeked through his lashes. The room was dark, and the TV was the only thing emitting light. Roy was doing something…

When he felt the hand on his underwear, he sat up sharply to see Roy preparing to dump a scoop of Rocky Road down his tidy whities. "What the HELL do you think you're doing?"

Tim snickered and got out of whacking distance as Dick leveled Roy. "Dude, you were so far gone. You were drooling, and you muttered something about Batman and Arrowette."

Slowly, Dick rolled onto his side. On the coffee table were three half- gallon containers of icecream, now mostly depleted. There was a can of whipped cream, and a jar of… cherries. "You do NOT want to know."

"Musta been something ta get you all werked up that yer hitting yer pal for a mostly harmless prank. Did you dream that Batman and Arrowette were getting it on?" Picking up the jar of cherries and lifted it to his lips. Turning the container upwards, he drank out all the juice. Dick watched in horror as he did so. Finally, Roy noticed his friend's gaze upon him. "What? It's good shit, man. Better than sex."

A half-gallon of ice cream, two cups of whipped cream and a dozen cherries came spewing out of Dick Grayson with unrivaled force.