Electric Flame

2.24

"Now, you're going to have to leave the manor for a couple of hours while we get ready," M'gann told me as she pushed me out through the front door. "And Dick, keep her company," she winked at him.

"But--"

"No buts, be back in two hours. Now go!" The door slammed shut behind us, locking as soon as we stepped outside and onto the wide, clay-based porch.

Dick shrugged, muttering, "There goes that." He turned toward me and asked, "Well, since we can't get back in, where do you want to go?"

"I don't know." The alluring jingle of an ice cream truck followed along the cobblestone path that ran perpendicular to the manor. I suddenly knew exactly where I wanted to be. I faced Dick and smiled like it was my birthday. How ironic. "I want to go to the carnival!"

Dick shook his head. "The docks are probably closed due to the news," he guessed.

"But it's a carnival! They can't close it down! Please," I begged, hugging him tightly and throwing my head backwards to express the best puppy-dog face ever shown to mankind, Amazons, and Kryptonians.

He sighed. "Fine, but only because you're cute and we're supposed to be celebrating everything about you."

Dick walked around the side of the manor and toward a garage seemingly large enough to accommodate at least twenty cars, SUVs even. He led me through a small opening, and the building was packed with authentic, brand new sports cars of all different qualities and dealerships: Mercedes, Lexus, Cadillac, Mustang, Lamborghini. This place had everything.

Spare tires piled five feet high sat in each corner, and right beside them were the bikes; the best I'd ever seen. The leather seats were freshly waxed, and not a single sticky fingerprint stained any one of them. Colors ranged from the brightest white to the deepest black, and Dick stood erect beside a royal blue motorcycle, dark shades shielding his eyes from the room's nonexistent sun.

"You do know that it's about to rain outside just like any other day in Gotham, right?" I asked him, laughing to myself with my hands placed firmly above my hips.

"But I still look cool," Dick smirked, hopping onto the squeaky clean seat of the bike. "Climb on." He gestured by lifting his chin as his strong hands gripped the black rubber handles. I did as instructed, situating myself behind him and wrapping my arms around his broad waist.

"This ride must be better than the last time," I said, remembering how I fainted and nearly rolled into the ongoing traffic. I shook off the feeling and inhaled Dick's scent. He smelled of cologne and lavender, strangely enough.

"Then, I suggest you hold on tight," he advised, smiling as he interlocked my fingers, allowing me to feel his perfectly sculpted abdomen.

As soon as I was safely stable on the rear of his bike, he jet off, revving the engine and stomping on the gas pedal. We weaved through cars and taxis and were told to go to hell a few times before the carnival music and aroma of fried everything filled the atmosphere. Dick popped the kickstand and slid off, letting out his hand to help me.

"Thank you, Mr. Grayson," I nodded, trying to refrain from laughing.

"Oh, my pleasure, Ms. (l/n)," he bowed. "Now, why don't you come along and win a stuffed animal for me," he suggested as we walked toward the sound of happy kids and annoyed parents hand in hand. It seemed so perfect. Too perfect

"Aren't you supposed to win one for me?" I questioned as I stared up at him. He towered over me by about eight inches, at least.

"Absolutely not!" Dick exclaimed, catching the attention of a couple of bystanders and making me giggle.