Melissa_Black13: So, a couple days ago, ovp messaged me and was like, we should collab on a fic for Spitfire Week, and I was so flattered because I LOVE all of her fics, so I was like OF COURSE. We decided that instead of doing a fic a day, we would do one big fic that had all of the elements of Spitfire Week in it, and what we came up with is The Archer and Me, a retelling of the movie The Prince and Me starring Wally and Artemis. It's been really fun writing it and I hope you all enjoy it!

ovp: Melissa so does not give herself enough credit. She is a fantastic author and it was a pleasure to collab with her on this piece. Whether this was a good idea on my part (hides face in shame at all other uncompleted stories) has yet to be determined. But I think this will definitely turn into a very special piece with lots of laughs and fun. So yes I hope everyone enjoys it as much as Melissa and I enjoyed writing it.

Disclaimer: Melissa and ovp do not own Young Justice or its characters or The Prince and Me.

Summary: When the pressures of the crown get too overwhelming for Prince Wally of Denmark, he flees to America where he poses as a college student. There he meets the beautiful but feisty pre-law student, Artemis Crock. Written for Spitfire Week 2.0. A collab by ovp and Melissa_Black13.

Pairings: Wally/Artemis

The Archer and Me

Prince Wallace of Denmark (or Wally, as he preferred to be called) was as carefree as they came. Able to afford fast cars and unbelievable luxuries (not to mention the beautiful women who constantly flocked to him), he had never had to work a day in his life or experience the futility of failure. Instead, he bathed in the glory that was his parents' wealth and fame - at least until they decided that he needed to, ugh, act responsible.

"You are the heir to the crown," frowned King Rudolph looking up from the papers he was examining, "And you're gallivanting around like an insipid three year old."

Wally crossed his arms demurely. "I was just having a bit of fun, Father," he argued. He'd had fun with Brigitte, and then Annabelle, and then Eva. The ladies of Denmark loved their Prince, and really, who could blame them?

"Yes, well, playtime is over, Wallace," his father told him, tossing aside the tabloid outlining the prince's latest scandal. "It is time for you to stop these juvenile games and start becoming more serious about learning how to rule this country. You can start by attending Parliament sessions with me."

Behind his father stood Richard, Wally's, well, servant was an old fashioned sort of word, but that was essentially his function. More than that though, Richard was one of Wally's closest friends and confidants; even if he was three years younger than him there was no way Wally would still be here without Richard looking out for him. The black haired man cringed slightly at King Rudolph's words, and Wally struggled to contain his laughter.

Wally yawned, covering his mouth. "Bo-ring," he sang.

"You'll attend them if you know what's good for you," his father said sternly. "You may be the Crown Prince, but I am King. I can still make your cousin Bartholomew my heir."

"Cousin Bart is an idiot," Wally replied airily. "But go ahead if you think it's a good idea."

King Rudolph sighed wearily and dismissed Wally with a wave of his hand, turning his attention to more important matters. Wally quickly vacated the room with Richard following as silent as a ninja behind him. The two said nothing to each other as they journeyed through the palace, other staff and personnel bowing to him at every corner, until finally they reached Wally's chambers. Wally didn't wait for Richard to open the door for him before storming inside, already pulling off the suffocating tie he was wearing. The door closed with a soft click.

"What a load of bull," Wally blurted out, throwing the tie away mindlessly. His suit jacket was tossed aside as well. He unbuttoned his perfectly pressed collared shirt and rolled up the sleeves, before turning to Richard who was picking up after him. "I don't know why my father insists on making me attend those stupid sessions. A waste of time if you ask me."

"Hmm, might it have to do with the fact that you're going to be king someday, sire?" Richard asked dryly, handing Wally's clothing off to his chamberlain.

"Yes, don't remind me, Richard," Wally commanded, dropping into a cushy armchair in front of his TV. Mindlessly, he clicked the device on, not really paying attention as he changed the channels. "What do they expect me to do, stay in the palace all day long like a good little boy? Consider yourself lucky that you're not me."

"I'm here if you ever want to trade places," Richard retorted, dismissing the chamberlain so that it was just the two of them.

"I need to get out of this country," Wally said, ignoring him. "Somewhere I can clear my head. Somewhere I can be released from the burden of all my responsibilities."

"Is that a good idea?" his friend asked, standing at attention behind him. Although they were friends, Richard always maintained the proper protocols, something Wally had tried tirelessly to get him to stop. "You do remember Sydney, right? And Barcelona? And that time in Rio? And-"

"Yes, yes, I remember," Wally interrupted impatiently. "It's different this time though. I feel like Father and Mother are smothering me. It's times like these that I wish I wasn't an only child. I need to get out of Denmark."

On the TV, the announcer's voice was loud and attention-seeking. "Watch this! For years, we've been talking real women into doing the most outrageous things!" the announcer exclaimed. The ad showed girls flashing the camera, making out with other girls, and dancing on bars. Wally watched, completely taken in. "This time, we're taking you to colleges across America! Girls Gone Wild at Stanford University!"

The ad finished with a guy saying, "Come on, take your top off for us. Just this once."

It was like a lightbulb went off in Wally's head. It was the perfect plan. He would tell his parents that he wanted to focus on his schooling and what better place to get an education that one of the top American universities, when really he would be partying it up with all of the topless girls. No Parliament, no rules, just girls and booze. He sent a conspiratorial grin Richard's way.

"Oh dear," groaned Richard all too aware of the thought that had just settled in the redhead's noggin. "I'm telling you now, this is a bad idea. Your worst even."

Wally waved off his warning breezily, "Nope. It's fantastic."

Getting the King and Queen to agree had been a bit troubling, but once he promised to keep a low profile and take Richard with him as a bodyguard (although he thought it was wholly unnecessary) they finally agreed.

"It'll be fine, I promise. Stanford is known for its excellent political science degree."

Queen Mary bit her lip apprehensively, "But are you sure you will be able to cope by yourself."

"Mother," moaned Wally, "How am I supposed to learn about how to rule the commoners if I don't interact with them? I just want to be a completely hundred percent normal student with normal student problems. Besides, I won't be alone, I'll have Richard with me."

The King narrowed his eyes, clearly not as easily convinced as Wally's doting mother, "You're willing to be treated just like everyone else, in all capacities?"

"Absolutely."

"Fine," he barked, "Go to America but the first instance I hear of you acting out and you'll be attending every parliamentary session, all embassy debates, and taking my place in the United Nations meeting."

"Understood, Father."

Wally managed to keep his solemn expression on his face until he was just outside the heavy mahogany doors before he turned to a less than impressed Richard and smiled giddily, "This is going to be awesome!"

"This is going to be a disaster."

So far everything was going fantastic. Although he wasn't allowed to use the private jet he had gotten to enjoy a rather pedestrian first class flight to California. Richard had gone ahead to arrange things and was waiting at the passenger exit sign with a set of convertible keys in his hand. Wally couldn't help the silly grin that spread across his face as he thought about the prospect of actually getting away with his little plan. Just the thought of half-naked women and partying without his parents breathing down his neck exhilarated him.

"Did you enjoy the flight, sire?" asked Richard opening the door so Wally could slide behind the wheel.

"It was alright," shrugged Wally revving the engine to life, "The service was atrocious and there was this horrid baby in second class that wouldn't stop crying." Richard had to strongly resist the urge to roll his eyes at the prince's complaints - so much for him attempting to mingle with regular society.

"What are you wearing?" asked Wally blinking at the black haired man owlishly as he pulled out of the parking space.

"Clothes, sir," responded Richard bluntly, "Just as you are."

"But it's a suit! How am I supposed to blend in at college when my best friend is walking around like someone from the CIA, sunglasses and all?"

Wally laughed at how affronted Richard looked. They both knew he was better trained than any CIA or FBI officer, and he knew him even suggesting Richard was on the same level as any of them was enough to make the younger man's blood boil.

"It's going to have to go. Name too. Richard just sounds so formal." Richard gaped at him in shock. He happened to like his clothes and was not prepared to simply throw away his entire identity just so the prince could have fun. But he was the future heir to the throne so Dick swallowed thickly and asked with forced politeness,

"What do you suggest, sire?"

"Well, no tie and jacket for one thing and, I guess, undo the first two buttons on your shirt," they were now cruising along the highway as Wally dictated directions, "And no more of this sire, sir, highness stuff. Just call me Wally." He smirked, "We don't want to blow our cover do we?"

"Of course not," sneered Richard stuffing his tie violently in the glove compartment.

"Hmmm, let's see," Wally considered. "You need a nickname as well. Richard is just too formal." The convertible passed a sign that read 'Welcome to Palo Alto' and Richard directed him on where to go. "I've got it!" Wally announced after a moment. "Richard, you are now Dick. It's too perfect," crowed Wally shaking his head as he sped through the gates that were at the entrance of the Stanford campus.

"If you insist, sir," came the dry reply.

"I do," Wally said brightly. "Dick and Wally, two intrepid students out to grab some tail."

"Look out!" screeched Richard pointing ahead. Wally's head snapped forward and he swerved to the right to avoid hitting a blonde woman who was crossing the street with three boxes precariously stacked on top of each other.

"What the hell!" yelled Wally jumping over the door to see if any damage had been inflicted on his beloved vehicle. "Watch where you're going!" He proceeded to storm towards the blonde who he had nearly plowed down. Placing the boxes down purposefully, she whipped around consequently smacking him in the face with her taut ponytail.

"Excuse me? Watch where I'm going?" she said nastily poking him adamantly in the chest with a sharply manicured finger. "You should keep your eyes on the road, Hot Rod."

Wally took in a sharp intake of breath as his eyes fell on the breathtaking woman before him. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and pulled back from her face. Even wearing a boring pair of jeans and white tank top Wally could definitely tell she was well endowed and curvaceous - now this was what Denmark was missing. Quality women.

"So," he began suavely, his anger completely evaporating as he pushed a hand through his hair and sent the rather bored blonde a dashing smile, "Are you going to take your top off?" He met the startled gray irises of the livid woman before she slapped him harshly in the face.

"What the hell is your problem? Are you some kind of demented pervert?"

"You hit me!" squawked Wally indignantly, "You. Hit me."

"Nevermind, you're clearly an idiot, syllable boy."

"Richard, do something!" Wally sputtered, forgetting the whole charade for a moment. No one had ever laid their hands on his royal person like this before. It was unquestionable! Unacceptable!

His companion gazed at him blankly, however, before turning to the young woman. "Can I write you a thank you note?" Wally just gaped at his supposed best friend.

She looked between both of them incredulously, before settling on Richard. "Yeah, and you can address it to Artemis Crock at 111 Go Fuck Yourself Lane," she spat out before collecting her boxes with a huff and striding away.

"Get the bags, Dick," said Wally dismissively while holding his stinging cheek, "It's women like her who don't deserve to look that hot. I hope I never have the misfortune of being in the vicinity of her again." Richard merely stared at him clearly a little annoyed at being treated like a lackey or manservant. Although he didn't comment on how Wally's green eyes trailed after the swishing ponytail. However, his mood seemed to brighten considerably as he plucked the suitcases from the trunk and muttered a hasty,

"Sure."

"Now which one is mine," Wally rubbed his hands together looking at the various buildings that lined the street trying to mentally calculate how many half naked girls he could fit into each. That one girl had been the exception - the rest would be more than willing.

"You see that building there?"

"Yes," Wally squinted at the rather bland looking apartment building. "It's small but it will have to do I guess."

"Three stories up, fifth window from the left." A grin split Dick's face at Wally's stunned, muted expression.

"Excuse me?"

"You wanted to be treated just like everybody else, so your parents made sure you got the most authentic experience," stated Dick, and Wally was sure he was taking immense pleasure in his stricken expression. "Now come on."

The fact that the elevator was broken did not improve Wally's mood at all because unlike Richard, whose entire life was dedicated to picking up after him, Wallace was not used to actually having to exert physical effort to get anywhere, and even though he wasn't carrying any bags, he felt winded when he finally stepped onto the landing on the third floor. Angrily yanking open the door to apartment 916, he was greeted with a living space that was smaller than his mother's least favorite walk-in closet. It took all of his chivalry and charm to reign in his impertinent tongue.

"It's quaint," he eked out staring at the bunk beds that were against the wall. The room was literally no bigger than his arm span, and as Dick entered in behind him he noticed that they were not actually alone in the room.

"Who's that?" snapped Wally jerking his thumb at the bulky boy sitting on a folding chair watching the static channel.

"Our roommate, Conner Kent."

"Roommate?" squeaked Wally flabbergasted, "There's hardly enough room in here for me."

Dick gave him a look that clearly said, Hey, this was your idea, before placing their bags next to the bunk beds. Wally decided to make the best of it, despite his misgivings about having a stranger in his chambers, and strolled over to the fellow.

"Hello, I'm Wallace, but my friends call me Wally," he said to the boy, holding out his hand to shake. Conner Kent simply glanced at his outstretched hand before looking back at the static filled television. Confused and more than a little creeped out, Wally looked to Dick for support, but his friend just shrugged.

"Er, so we're going to be rooming together it looks like-" Wally started before the boy cut him off.

"Look, there are two rules in the Fortress of Solitude," Conner grunted. He ticked up a finger. "One, don't talk to me. Two, don't even think about touching my TV."

"Duly noted," said Wally slowly backing away slightly from the muscled boy, "I'll stay out of your way and you'll stay out of mine." Conner merely grunted again before spinning back around and Wally sent Dick a desperate, disbelieving Are you kidding me look pointing a finger at the boy's turned back.

"Soooo, anyways. Girls, Dick?" asked Wally grinning at the man who was currently unpacking his luggage.

"I was actually thinking we could look over your schedule for tomorrow and pick up your textbooks."

"You are such a wet blanket," groaned Wally, slumping his shoulders. "We're here to par-ty! Hey, Moody, know any good parties going on at any of those chica fraternities?"

Conner let out a growl and Wally recoiled quickly as the seated boy gruffly bit out, "Rule one."

"Alright, alright. No talking to you," squealed Wally backpedalling. When did manners go out of style? Leaning against one of the posts on the bunk bed he stared at Dick, at least until the man threw a pair of boxers in his face.

"Fold."

"Am I the only one interested in having any fun here?" asked Wally. This was not what he signed up for. He had already been slapped, made fun of, and made a fool of by a roommate who seemed to possess less social skills than a banana. It also didn't help that the girl...Artemis Crock, God, what an awful name, Crock - had been well, attractive and really his type although her personality could use a little work. He'd really be in trouble if all American girls were that bitter and brittle.

"I still think you should be taking your studies a bit more seriously, Wallace," emphasized Richard looking at him from behind his shades.

"Yes, yes, studying is part of the plan, but right now women are definitely the main objective. Come on Dick, live a little."

A sound by the doorway sidetracked Wally from continuing to berate his friend. It looked as if someone had slid a few papers under the door. Curiosity piqued, Wally hurried to retrieve them. The first one he picked up was junk, some sort of study-buddy nonsense, but the second was his golden ticket. 'Happy Hour 4 PM - 11 PM at the Cardinal Clubhouse, Stanford's Favorite Student Bar' the flier read.

"Perfect."