A/n: I'm so glad I had Flash's short pre-completed before I put up the poll. I knew he was going to get a lot of votes in.

The babysitting disasters...begin!

Wordplay
Seventeen — Bedtime Stories II/IV
(Flash, special guest Green Lantern Hal Jordan)

"Ok, before you start ragging on my Uncle Barry can we just establish that he might have been dating my Aunt Iris at the time? Because if that's the case, that means that I was already trying to talk him into having a kick-ass sidekick of his own on the daily. My persistence made him very nervous. And he wasn't too great with kids before he met me." Wally pointed at Roy, not sounding as guilty as his explanation did.

"That did not sound very wise or kind of you to do, given every hero has his or her own hefty load of worries to deal with on a regular basis." Kaldur gently reprimanded. Wally didn't catch it. He shrugged in agreement, throwing his hands up over his head.

"Exactly! That's why he needed me as a sidekick! Not nearly as stressful when you've got someone watching your back!"

"Of course not! Why would having a pre-teen as a sidekick fighting dangerous criminals be by any means a liability?" Artemis narrowed her eyes at the green-eyed speedster sarcastically. Wally pouted and scoffed at all of them, hiding their giggles and snickers.

"Well, when you put it that way..." He grumbled, but didn't bother explaining himself. He waved a dismissive hand at Roy. "Y'know what, forget it. Just tell the damn story."

Roy fought the urge to roll his eyes at Wally's childish behavior, glancing briefly at Dick, who was fast asleep. He was shivering anywhere nearly as badly as a bit earlier and he took that as a good sign. "Now that that vital piece of information was given," He remarked with snark, "I should also let you know prior to this that the reason Batman won't leave Robin with Flash isn't entirely his fault, per se. See, Hal Jordan, the Green Lantern from Coast City, decided to hang out or help or something while Flash was in charge of Robin. I'm still not too sure on the details. And Batman hates Hal Jordan."

"Tch, beats me why. Uncle Hal is the best..." Wally muttered just loud enough for the others to hear. Conner shushed him for Roy to continue.

"Anyhow, yeah, Bats hates Hal, thinks he's a self-centered douche bag with the mentality of a football jock, blah, blah, blah. Backtracking, this started just after Robin started working the field with Batman..."

"Energy Rush"

Nine-year-old Robin sat cross-legged on the head of the life-sized Tyrannosaurus Rex in the Batcave, full cheeks resting in his Kevlar-padded gloves, pouting. He glowered his best glare at the long shadow of his mentor cast across the steel floors of the cave, then his mask that was siting in front of him. Needless to say, he was upset. It was so unfair. Why did he have to sit out when Bruce was meeting with other members of the Justice League? It's not like he didn't know any of them, or didn't fight crime like they all did. Bruce was sidelining him because he was too little, too young, too un-experienced?

"Humph, 'too un-experienced'," The child grumbled, glaring now at the second shadow that stood side-by-side with the Bat. It arrived with a whooshing gust of wind. Since there was no cape, that could only mean it was the Flash. The only other person that could travel at those speeds was Superman, and his foster father made it a point to make their meetings less frequent. The sourpuss. "I'm not un-experienced. I have lots of experience in fighting. I'm inexperience." With a huff, he rose to his feet and spun on his heel, surfing down the spine of the dinosaur and landing on the floor with a perfect tumble. He placed his domino mask back in place, stomping over to a different area of the main platform where the exercise equipment was. A few routines on the balance beam was sure to help him blow off some steam.

The boy wonder stepped up on the balance beam with instinctive ease, cartwheeling forward, and jumping a back flip to land perfectly in the center. He squatted down, finding balance on his hands, and raising his feet up over his head. He slowly turned in place, swinging his legs down to a split in mid-air. Then, he tipped forward, gripping the balance beam, and swinging around the beam itself so he could stand back up on it. He repeated these moves in random a couple of times. His imagination even of the better of him, and soon enough he was pretending to fight off bad guys on the balance beam. He pulled out a bolo from his utility belt, spinning it expertly as he back flipped with one hand and kicked out. He tumbled forward, spun on his heel, and—thanks to the adrenaline rush—whipped out the bolo. The weapon was dead-set on going straight through one of the motherboard boxes to the fighting simulation mat, but a streak of red caught it and brought it back to him. (Thank goodness too; he would've been grounded for weeks!)

"Bravo," Flash grinned at the young boy. "Very impressive." He held up his wrist, where the bolo was tangled a little too tightly in a mangled mess. "You mind taking this off before it cuts off my circulation."

Robin nodded, hopping off the balance beam. "I thought you were talking to Batman." He said, small fingers working agilely as he unwound the ropes of the bolo.

"I was, he went to go grab something for me so I figured I'd take a look around the place. This cave is enormous!" He told the child. Robin nodded, the white lenses of his mask widening when he accidentally touched a concealed button on Flash's glove that popped open a compartment. The scarlet-clad speedster drew his hand back before the child could pry, returning the bolo. "You're an excellent gymnast." He complemented.

"Thanks." Robin half grinned, but it was missing heart. "Batman doesn't think so, though." He scoffed, frowning a pout that was adorable to Flash despite it's dejection.

Regardless, the speedster frowned with him. "Why would you think that? It seems to me like he trusts you more as a partner than anyone up in the watchtower." He admitted. He didn't get an answer, however, since the Dark Knight himself returned that same moment, with a vial of whatever it is Flash needed. "Ah, I knew you'd have it! I couldn't wait for the labs back in Central to get their hands on more of this, I could lose my case."

"Just be sure to be careful with it. That's a high concentrate extract, not the average shipment research labs usually receive."

"Got it. I'll wear my goggles and gloves for this one, then." The speedster chuckled, getting nothing but a flat look from the Bat. "Just kidding. Crack a smile, Bats." He joked. Just then, a series of four beeps came from the radio receiver on Batman's gauntlet, with an incoming audio message.

"Watchtower to Batman," It was Hawkgirl, "There's been a situation. Zatara, Wonder Woman, and I could you your insight. Sending coordinates now."

"Roger that, on my way." The hero replied. Robin was not happy.

"What? Now? But we haven't even gone on patrol!"

"Patrol will have to wait for another night. If I was called for backup instead of a super of another magic user it means they need a non-meta person backing them up." He explained to the child.

"Pfft, ok. You're just going because you like Wonder Woman..." Robin growled under his breath.

"He just what?" Flash rose a brow. Batman was already making his way to the elevator to reach the vehicles on a lower platform. The speedster and little bird followed suit.

"So which car are we taking? Or plane? Are we taking the Bat-jet?"

"You're not coming." Cue the strangled cry of outrage from Robin. "You're taking off your uniform and headed back upstairs to wait quietly until Alfred and Lucius are back from the city." Robin looked like he could cry, from anger or disappointment or both. Batman gave his apprentice a pointed look waiting for the child to give him his utility belt and gauntlets. Robin took a step back, pulling his cape over his body to shield his weapons away from his mentor.

In other words, no.

Flash stood between the two, feeling a little out of place witnessing this family spat about to happen, and intervened. "Bruce, wait, you can't leave the kid here without supervision. He's only nine."

"I'm nine and three-eighths." Robin corrected sourly. There was a slight quiver in his voice. He was sure to cry. He glared at Batman, and while it wasn't anywhere near as threatening as his mentor's, it was still intimidating for a nine-and-three-eighths-year-old. "You can't stop me from patrolling. I haven't gone in four days, you promised!"

The Bat let out a silent sigh, mulling things over. He had an inkling that Dick wouldn't go out on his own, since the child feared what would happen if he disobeyed, but it still remained that he'd be extremely disappointed and hurt. Flash also raised a good point that it wasn't wise to leave a child home alone, even if 'home' was a mansion built to withstand a nuclear explosion (probably).

"Why don't I take care of the kid?" Flash offered, which made both Gothamites simultaneously eye him curiously. It was eerie. "I can take him back to Central with me and he can stay the night, or until you want to pick him up. I'm basically done for the day, and it's not like I'm going to tackle this project until tomorrow." He said, holding up the container he came for.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. Uncle Barry brought Rob to Central? I though he babysat him here in Gotham!" Wally interrupted, incredulous. "I could've met him when I was like, what, eleven then! What gives, dude, that blows!"

"If I could keep going," Roy seethed, glaring, "Batman approved. So Flash brought Robin to Central City. When he was nine, and you were eleven. Boo. Hoo."

"Jerk."

Flash didn't know if he should be amused of a little sad that Robin was behaving like Central City was Disneyland. Sure, he loved his hometown, but it wasn't like it was anything special. Did Robin get out a lot? He'd have to ask Bruce after.

The pair took the Zeta-Tubes back to Central. (Quote, "I don't want you running at 100+ miles per hour with my son riding piggyback. He doesn't need any more ideas after the flying incident," unquote.) Both were out of uniform, which meant that Barry Allan was holding hands and walking home with one very energetic Dick Grayson.

"It's still light here!"

"Yeah, that's because of the time-zone difference. We're an hour behind Gotham in Kansas."

"O-oh. It's very pretty here! So clean. Did you know that in Gotham, a spot on the sidewalk the size of my shoe has a new, undiscovered species of bacteria?"

Barry laughed, crossing the street with him. "Where did you hear that?"

"Alfred told me, I dropped cotton candy once and went to pick it up and he told me that. He said that it's dirtier than a toilet bowl in a public restroom too."

"Haha, yeah, that...that's believable."

"Did you know that in Gotham traffic doesn't stop for you either? You stop for traffic, or else," He made a dying sound and a face, which made the speedster laugh harder.

"Here you don't have to worry about any of that, kid. In fact, maybe...maybe after dinner I could take you to an arcade?"

Dick gasped, smiling from ear to ear. "Really?!"

"You'd like that?"

"YES!"

The blonde took the little acrobat back to his apartment, where he let him watch TV in the living room and play with the toys he brought. The speedster, meanwhile, went to his kitchen and sifted through his cabinets, trying to figure out what to do. Watching a kid couldn't be so hard, right? Keep them fed, entertained, watched at all times. Easy stuff. Hm, did kids like pasta? "Hey Dick, what do you like to eat? I've got spaghetti and—."

"Spaghetti, yes, yes!" The child ran into the kitchen, holding a Spiderman action figure. "Can I help?" Was is safe to let him help? Well, theoretically, as long as he kept away from the stove and sharp objects.

"Uh...sure I guess, I'll—."

"I'll get the pot!" The blue-eyed boy exclaimed. "Where's the pot?"

Overall, prepping and making dinner went smoothly. It was actually pretty fun, and given it was a simple recipe, Dick spent a majority of the time sitting on the counter watching Barry chop up the ingredients for the sauce as he handed it to him. He chatted almost non-stop about anything that came to his mind. Barry felt comfortable and the stress of keeping the boy entertained melted away, as well as his awkwardness. Forty minutes later, they had a hearty spaghetti-and-meatball dinner completed. Perhaps the funniest thing to happen during cooking was that Barry ran out of vegetables. Dick gave a very fake, sad "aww."

They sat in the living room; the "dining room table" (aka his kitchen table) was stacked with paperwork from work. Barry promised Dick that if he ate his entire share he'd give him a scoop of ice cream he had in the fridge.

That was when an unexpected guest arrived.

"See? My Uncle Barry is an excellent babysitter! Bruce shouldn't be holing a grudge against him."

"Shush, Wally!" The teens quipped at him.

"Hal!" Barry sneered in a whisper out the window of his kitchen. He was washing the dishes. Dick was still in the living room, watching the seven-o-clock news. The speedster's best friend was floating outside his window in his celestial-green uniform, snickering wickedly as he used his ring to slide the window open. He floated in with ease. He was carrying a case of beer with him. "What are you doing here?"

"Guess who just saved Oa and a whole 'nother quadrant of the galaxy?" He boasted with a laugh, poking his thumb into his chest. "This guy! I'd figure I'd come celebrate with the greatest friend ever."

"Oh no, nuh-uh, not today." Barry shook his head fervently, making a slashing motion with soapy hands. "I've got my hands full."

"I'll say. What'd you make, it smells great."

"Hal, I'm serious."

"So am I! Don't be a hog, share! It's not like you have a speedy metabolism or anything."

"Barry! Barry, look, I finished!" Dick shouted from the living room, bringing back his plate. "Can I have more?" He walked in just as Hal powered down from the green glow and uniform, and offered the Lantern a friendly smile. "Hi!"

"Hi." Hal waved stiffly. "You're Batman's kid, aren't you? I remember you." He greeted, putting the beer down on the counter. He watched as Barry put some more food for the child. "How are you?"

"Good." Dick answered. "Barry, can I put on cartoons? The news is over."

"Sure, do you know what channel it is?" A head shake. "I'll be right there to find it, ok?" The blue-eyed bird nodded and carefully carried his plate back to the living room. Hal was giving him a teasing look. "What?"

"You're babysitting. Cute."

"Yes, until Batman's done helping some League members on a mission. Which is why you have to go, okay? We'll have guy's night some other day."

"Relax, Bar, a can of beer won't kill you. Just one. Promise, then I'll be gone. I'll keep you company while you watch the kid. Hey, pass me a plate, I want to try some of that spaghetti." Barry rolled his eyes; he wasn't going to win this argument anytime soon. He frisbee'd a plate to his friend and checked his freezer, frowning. He was out of ice cream. Dick would be heartbroken if he didn't have ice cream afterwards.

"Crap." He mumbled. He had no choice. "Alright fine, but I need a favor." He conceded. "I need to make a run and grab some ice cream for Dick, I promised him some after dinner. Keep an eye on him for me?" Hal nodded, mouthful of pasta. "Don't let him in the kitchen alone. make sure he doesn't play with anything harmful. Ask him if he needs to use the bathroom when he's done eating."

"Of-k grmm-ah chiw." He spoke with a mouthful. ("Ok grandma, chill.") He rose a thumbs up. Barry went to the living room and changed to a cartoon channel as promised, explaining to Dick that he was going to get ice cream since he'd run out and he'd be back in a flash. The child laughed at his choice of words, requesting vanilla ice cream. Barry agreed to it, and told him Hal would watch him until he got back. "Don't worry kid, Uncle Hal's as nice as Uncle Barry." Hal assured him.

"Ok, see you later Uncle Barry!"

As he'd said, Barry was quick to go get the ice cream. Ten minutes. and it was only twenty minutes because of the cash-out line at the registers of the grocery store. He'd even used his powers (something he never did for something as basic as errands) to get there faster. A phone call with his girlfriend and the sound of 'Uncle Barry' (it had a nice ring to it) kept his mind preoccupied. Still, he was itching to get back home.

"And there you have Uncle Barry's mista—oof!" Wally began pointing out before Artemis put a hand over his mouth.

"Continue."

Twenty minutes was long. Too long.

Coming up the stairs of his apartment building he already heard a shrill shriek of laughter and Hal's shouting. When he got the door open and stepped inside, the television was up to the fullest volume. WWE Wrestling was on, and the pilot and acrobat were cheering on the match wildly. Dick was jumping flips on the couch. Hal had cleared six cans of beer already, fist-pumping as he cheered. Pillows and some couch cushions were on the floor, spaghetti and split on the carpet, screaming...Dick hopped down from the couch and picked up a can of Red Bull, guzzling from it.

Barry felt his heart drop.

"Richard, no!" He nearly dropped the bag running to the boy, and gently took the can away from him. It was nearly empty. "You shouldn't be drinking this. Hal, what the hell, I thought I asked you to watch him!"

"I am!" The man replied, jumping out of his seat when the wrestler he was rooting for won. "YEAH!"

"WHOO, YEAH!" Dick cheered along, bouncing next to Barry.

"So you gave him an energy drink? Hal, kids aren't supposed to have these!"

"He said he was thirsty."

"So you gave him Red Bull?!" He snapped. His mind raced nervously. "C'mon, Dick, lets go drink some water." He picked the boy up, taking him to the kitchen. He also switched the channel back to a cop drama.

"Aww, c'mon! Buzzkill!"

"Uncle Barry, I don't feel good." Dick announced, resting his head on the man's shoulder and hugging his neck. "My tummy feels weird."

Aw crap, aw crap, crap, crap. The kid's gonna die. The kid's gonna die and it's not even hi fault. He was gonna die; Bruce was going to murder him in cold blood!

"Do you want to go use the bathroom?" He asked, and the little boy nodded. He rushed Dick to the bathroom, glaring as Hal. "Good going, Hal!" He shouted. In a split second Barry had Dick in the bathroom, the toilet seat up, and was reaching for Alka-Seltzer in the cabinets. He almost did a double-take of surprise when he turned around and found that instead of Dick leaning over the toilet seat, he was sitting down on it. "Dick, no, if you're gonna be sick you—."

Dick shoot his head no, hugging his stomach. "I don't feel throw-up," He clarified. "Gassy." Barry paled slightly. The boy looked embarrassed and the speedster felt horribly guilty. "Could you close the door please, Uncle Barry?"

He nodded, "Do you want me to wait outside?" Dick nodded so he stood outside the door. Not a second after he shut the door and he heard the child passing gas and going number two. The energy drink gave him diarrhea. He silently whined to himself, upset. He should've taken Dick with him to the grocers. He should've never left him with Hal.

Hal.

"Barry! Is the kid ok—oww, shit, man, that—OW!" The first punch was for what was happening to Dick. The second was for swearing.

"Are you proud of yourself now? The kid's stuck on the toilet because you gave him a freaking energy drink!"

"He's got the runs from an energy drink? I didn't even know that was a thing. Ow, dude!"

"He's nine years old, Hal! He's a kid! You don't give kids energy drinks! You give them water or chocolate milk or those little boxed juices with the smiley-faced fruits on them! Bruce is going to kill me for this! God forbid he gets worse. And if he does, you can bet that I'm going to kill you before Bruce kills me."

Hal flinched away from Barry,for fear of the man punching him again. "Alright, man, calm down, he can't poop forever. It's just a matter of him clearing up what's in his colon and it'll be done. Give him five minutes and he'll be right as rain."

"And if he isn't?" Barry asked.

"Theeeen we'll get there when we get there." In Hal talk, that meant he had no idea. Barry glared at him, but for the moment they really had no choice but to wait.

"Fine. Go clean up my living room. And put the ice cream in the fridge."

Ten minutes passed and Dick was still on the toilet, to insecure of his predicament to leave. Barry felt horrible for him—he cried in embarrassment and apologized—and helpless, since he had no clue what to do. However, he assured the boy there was nothing to worry about and sat on the floor with him, talking and keeping his mind off the problem. Meanwhile, his mind was hard on coming up with a solution. Finally, he came up with...something.

"Hal!" He shouted for his friend. When his head popped in the doorway, he requested, "Grab a bottle of water and one of the blueberry yogurts I have and bring them here." Hal went to retrieve them without question. Dick, ever the curious boy, asked what it was for as Barry went to the medicine cabinet for Pepto-Bismal. He checked the label to see if it was safe for children. "We're going to help stop your diarrhea."

"How?"

"Well, I'm going to give you a few drops of this, which helps upset stomachs and other digestive problems. And then you're going to eat the yogurt to help your colon regain control of itself and water to keep you hydrated. In theory...I'm going to try to constipate you. A little."

"Cons-pit-tate?"

"It's when you can't poop."

"Isn't that bad?"

"Weeell, yes. But we're only doing it a little, so it'll be like everything's back to normal." Dick nodded in understanding, eager to try. Thankfully, the plan worked. Another ten minutes later, the boy's disposition was elevated and he felt safe enough to leave. Barry was beyond relieved, and just to be safe gave him another yogurt. He carried the boy back to the living room, explaining that he wouldn't be able to eat his ice cream tonight but that he could take it home with him. Dick was happy, and asked Barry to sit and watch TV with him.

When they walked back to the living room, Hal was in the company of Batman. Shit.

"Bruce, you're here early." Barry greeted slowly. He was met with a glare. Sure, Hal had cleaned up. But the box of beers was still by the couch where the Lantern sat and the red-orange spaghetti sauce stain still on the floor. Hal had gone back to watching wrestling while he was with Dick in the bathroom, and—he had to be honest—the stink from the bathroom was making its way through the house.

"Tidy mission." Was the answer he got. The fact that he didn't take the cowl down meant he was very upset.

"I was just telling Bats how I came by for a surprise visit. After dinner. Completely didn't know Dick was here." Hal said. Barry could tell he was trying to help, but he was just making the entire situation worse. The speedster came clean, gave him a report of the entire evening's events. He kept Dick in his arms in case Bruce did try anything. Dick would chime in every so often, a smile on his face as he confirmed the events much more light-heartedly.

"Uncle Barry took good care of me, Bruce. He was going to take me to an arcade after too! Can I come back to Central City again?"

"Perhaps." Batman answered, taking his son into his arms and the jacket by the door. He gave the two heroes a nod as he climbed out the window. "Flash. Lantern." With that, he disappeared into the night; Dick's voice echoed "Bye, Uncle Barry! Bye, Uncle Hal!". The tension quite literally felt like it lifted from the room.

Barry glared at Hal. The man fidgeted in place. "He called you Uncle Barry, that's good right?" Nothing. "I don't think he's too mad. He said perhaps!"

The next morning, on his kitchen counter, there was a letter and a bill addressed to Barry from the dark knight. It was a cleaning bill, and it was high.

"Richard had an accident in the Batmobile. Consider this your apology."

A/n: Obviously, Barry made Hal pay the bill.

Next voting lineup! Pick TWO heroes from the League!

A. Wonder Woman
B. Green Arrow
C. Aquaman
D. Martian Manhunter