The Caped-Crusader Caper - 1. Chapter 1

Brief glossary:

Golden Age Comics - Started with Action Comics #1 and the appearance of Superman. 1938 - 1956.

Silver Age Comics - The resurgence of the superhero comic in updated form, shedding the WWII-era trappings. The rise of Fantastic Four, Spiderman, The Hulk, and many other more modern heroes. 1956 -1970.

Bronze Age Comics - An era of darker plots in the superhero world, with more trenchant story lines that touched on drug-use, poverty, pollution, and urban crime. The end of many first generation story-writer's careers here, and the rise of new, younger writers with a different take on the world. It was during this period, especially, that some superheroes changed identities and costumes and started anew. 1970 -1985.

Modern Age Comics - Identified by the commercialization of comic book publishers, more psychologically complex characters, and deeper, more twisting plot lines. Anti-heroes and supervillians rise to prominence as central characters, and many new superhero characters introduced. 1985 - present

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"This quiver is a pain," Speedy said, shrugging his shoulders slightly to reposition the annoyance against his back. "My right butt cheek is going to have a bruise on it, I think."

Next to him, Robin, the Boy Wonder, nodded, his eyes scanning the convention huckster room. "I told you it was too long."

"Yeah, about five times already!"

Robin grimaced. "Every time you complain about it! So stop, okay? You'll live! We're Teen Titans, remember? Suck it up!"

Speedy made a rude noise. "That's easy for you to say. You don't have all these arrows smacking against your butt!"

"Six times," Robin said under his breath, but didn't comment further. There was too much to see, too much going on, to be concerned about a too-long quiver.

Around them, other participants at the comic convention circulated among the tables, looking over the merchandise available for sale, getting things signed where writers or illustrators were present, or showing off their costumes to each other. Others were dressed for the street, a mostly older crowd, and carrying bags and boxes of things they had purchased, or simply looking tired while shepherding younger convention-goers among the many tables and stalls. The crowd was dense, and everywhere a line needed to form for something, it was long.

"There's the DC stall," Speedy said, using his bow to point. It was enough to divert his attention from the quiver, anyway. "What a crowd!"

"No use heading there," Robin decided, shaking his head at the throng. "One thing about being in costume, there's no pockets for anything. I'm glad now I didn't bring anything extra. Trying to get to one of the signings would be an all-day job." He cast a quick glance at his friend. "I think I like this traveling lean thing. It suits me." He patted the front of his costume at the belt buckle for emphasis. "Superheroes should travel light!"

The hand motions drew Speedy's gaze, and his eyes smiled behind his mask as they roved approvingly up and down Robin's front.

"Stop that!" Robin whispered. "It looks like you're undressing me with your eyes!"

"I can see where your junk is," Speedy offered, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "I never noticed Robin's junk in the comics!"

"Shh!" The other boy's eyes darted around nervously, but no one was paying any attention to them at all.

Speedy grinned. "Aw, come on! Someone would have to have superhearing to hear me. Relax!"

For just a brief instant Robin glared; but then he seemed to fall out of character. His serious look cracked, and a smile peeked out. "Shut up. Don't you know how bad it would be for me to get horny dressed like this?"

Speedy tossed his head back and laughed. "Yes!"

"Then stop it." Robin gave his hips a faint twist, and then pulled his cape a little closer to cover himself. "Now look what you did!" He closed his eyes, and his lips moved silently as he repeated the mantra that always calmed him down if he got horny in a difficult situation: "Grandma Iris is watching. She's coming closer. She's gonna kiss my cheek..."

Five times was enough. After a moment Robin sighed, and let his cape fall away from in front of him. "Don't do that again."

"Sorry. You just look so good!"

"You look pretty good, yourself," Robin conceded. "Except for the quiver. It's about two inches too long. It bumps up and down on your butt when you walk."

"That's what I just said!"

Robin leaned closer. "It's kind of sexy, actually. The way your butt makes it move around when you walk, I mean."

Speedy looked annoyed. "It's the way it looks in the comics. More or less."

Robin sighed. "It's the old Speedy. It's the price you pay for going golden age on me. I told you about that."

Speedy offered up a cross between a glare and a pout. "Can I help it if my granddad gave me his collection? I like that old stuff. Much better to be a cool Teen Titan than the drug addict Speedy became in the silver age stories."

His friend snorted. "Your character is too complicated, anyway, with Arsenal and Red Arrow, and all that. Roy Harper never knew who he wanted to be! I like Dick Grayson better. He just stayed Robin."

"He was Nightwing, too, remember," Speedy reminded.

"Only after he grew up and couldn't be Robin anymore!"

"Well, it was the same for Speedy! He grew up and became Arsenal, and then Red Arrow!" Speedy grimaced. "And it shows what you know! Robin was also Nightwing when he was young, when him and Batman went into the bottled city of Kandor with Superman!"

"Old stuff!"

For a moment the two glared defiantly at each other, before Speedy let his gaze drop again to Robin's crotch. He smiled, and licked his lips, causing Robin to flinch. "Stop that! That's not fair!"

Speedy grinned, but nodded and looked away. "Fine. Just leave my Roy alone, and I'll leave your Dick alone."

Robin blinked at that, and then cracked a smile and laughed. He made a slight bow, and nodded. "Dick Grayson at your service, sir. Roy Harper, I presume?"

Speedy laughed. "The one and only." He hefted his bow, and shrugged his shoulders another time. "Let's go. Maybe some poor girl needs our assistance."

"Or boy," Robin added, under his breath, but loudly enough for Speedy to hear. The other superhero just grinned, and they moved off among the tables together.

There were a lot of others in costume, almost all young like themselves. There were as many supervillains present as there were superheroes, definitely a commentary of a sort on what different people gleaned from their comic book pursuits. The few adults present in costume really had good ones, their financial conditions speaking loudly among the group of mostly handmade costumes like their own. And if Robin's mom hadn't been so good with a sewing machine and willing to help out, the boys wouldn't look as good as they did!

Yet the adults in costume had other flaws that sort of mitigated the quality of their finery. Superman with gray hair around a bald spot, and Batman with a pretty ridiculous paunch, both stomped past them, and the boys had to pull out all the stops not to start laughing. The Batman cast a look Robin's way and squinted, as if there was something familiar about him, but not totally recognizing the costume. It really depended on what period in a superhero's history you followed, because for some of them costumes had changed more than once, especially among sidekicks. But the idea of Batman not recognizing Robin was sort of funny, and Robin smiled to himself for a full minute after the older superhero had passed.

They wandered along a line of tables, eyeing all the cool stuff for sale; but they had come this time to dress, not to buy. There would be other conventions in the city before the year was out, and money didn't grow on trees, after all.

"Ooh," Speedy said, stopping a moment. "Check that out."

Robin stopped and backed up. On the table before Speedy was a selection of comics, a number of them under glass. The other boy pointed at one of the latter, and Robin leaned closer. He frowned. "Isn't that...?"

"Uh huh. The Brave and the Bold, number 54. The first appearance of the Teen Titans. They weren't called that until later, but that's where it all started."

"Cool! Even if it is old!" Robin leaned closer to look at the price. "Five hundred dollars! No way!"

Speedy sighed. "That's actually pretty reasonable, and a lot of dealers run their prices up for conventions. I've seen copies in this condition on Ebay for eight hundred." He smiled then. "But I have one of these in my granddad's collection."

Robin made a dismissive sound. "I just read comics. I'm not paying all that cash to collect that old stuff."

"Yeah? You read my granddad's comics. Some of them are very old!"

"But your granddad collected comics all the way through the nineties. I can get along with the later books. You like those fifties comics!"

"Don't start that again!"

Robin suddenly looked contrite, and sighed. "Sorry."

Speedy nodded. "We always seem to argue when we're Robin and Speedy. We never do that when we're just Kyle and Justin."

Robin considered that, and nodded. "I'm sorry, Justin."

Robin hated to go out of character when he was in costume, and the brief acknowledgement of the real world was touching. Speedy could see the honesty in his friend's words, and sighed. He leaned closer, and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I love you, Kyle."

Behind his mask, Robin's face reddened. He struggled a moment, his eyes moving back and forth looking for someone paying attention, and not finding any takers. He gave a slow nod then, and his shoulders slowly relaxed. "Me, too, Justin."

"No more arguing?"

"Okay." Robin smiled then. "Not until we get back to your place, anyway. Let's go."

The afternoon wore on. There was just an amazing amount of stuff to see, on display, for sale or trade, or just there to be looked at and admired. Superheroes and supervillains were everywhere. They saw a couple of other Robins, their costumes different from Kyle's - either different eras of Robin, or different because precise reproduction was difficult - and none showed the talented hand of Kyle's mom. There was a Red Arrow present, too, the incarnation of Speedy as an adult superhero; but no others dressed as Speedy like Justin was, as he had been when he was first Green Arrow's teen sidekick. That made Justin proud in a way, while Kyle just thought it proved his point that his best friend was too far back in the comic realm to be relevant these days. But he didn't say that, remembering their agreement not to argue.

And, it was true, Justin was very sexy and cute as the retro Speedy, and Kyle let the idea go that the look was old, and held onto the idea that it was his. His friend. His boyfriend. He sighed, and felt good.

They had something to eat. Justin's quiver held other things than arrows. Their wallets and cellphones also resided there, the only place they had to keep things. Convention prices were always high, and extended to food as well as merchandise, and they grimaced at the price they had to pay for a hamburger and a Coke. But it was all part of the experience, and if you didn't get ripped off a little, it wouldn't be part of the fun. And the memories!

"We're coming back tomorrow for the costume contest, right?" Kyle asked, as it neared dinnertime.

"We said we would. Are you chickening out on me?"

"No. I'm just asking. Because if we're coming back tomorrow, I don't see any reason to stay late. Do you?"

Justin's thoughts leaped ahead to the evening. To the sleepover. Kyle's parents were out of town for the weekend, and Kyle was staying at Justin's apartment. In Justin's room! What might come of that...what would come of that...was suddenly quite clear in Justin's mind, and he grinned. "Are you ready to go? I'm ready to go!"

Kyle snickered, and then they headed back to the con room, where they'd left the suitcase containing their street clothes. There was a check table there, now attended by a weary looking older woman, who was totally unfazed by their costumes as they walked up.

"Nice," she said automatically, nodding at their outfits, but plainly not caring a bit. "Got'cher ticket?"

Justin squatted again so that Kyle could retrieve their claim ticket from his wallet. He handed the card over, and the woman glanced down at it and grunted. "Be right back."

"I'm looking forward to tonight," Justin whispered out of the side of his mouth, as the woman walked down one row of many cases and boxes set on the floor.

Kyle looked around quickly, but they were alone at the moment. He felt a delicious little shiver at the idea. "Me, too."

"Will it be like last time?"

"Hell, yeah. Even better!"

Justin grinned at his friend's confidence.

The check woman paused at a spot, looked all around, and then moved over a row to the right and looked in the same place. She reached the end of that one, and moved back two rows to look in the row to the left of the first one. Then she shook her head and walked back to them.

"You sure you didn't get this already?"

Both boys froze. "No," Kyle managed then. "We left it here at ten this morning, and this is the first we've been back."

"Yeah? Can you describe what I'm looking for?"

Justin leaned forward then. "It's a small black suitcase, with a white stripe around it. It has my name on the plate under the handle."

"Yeah? What'cher name?"

Justin looked briefly embarrassed. "Um...Speedy."

The woman's eyes widened, and she snickered. "I hope that ain't some poor girl's judgment, Jack!"

"Hey!" Kyle said, stepping forward. He was full-on in Robin mode now, and his face was serious. "Just get the suitcase, will ya?"

The woman's smile vanished. "Look, kid, I just work here, okay? I looked in the row on the ticket, and your case ain't there. I looked in the rows on each side, and it ain't there, neither."

"It's been stolen!" Justin exclaimed.

The woman raised a hand and waved it quickly. "Hush down, will ya? It ain't stolen. Someone's been here all day. I came on at noon, and I can tell ya for sure, no one has been back here but me...and..." Her eyes narrowed. "Uh oh."

"What uh oh!" Justin exclaimed.

The woman frowned. "You kids come and go, but a lot of the older people attendin' this convention thing got rooms here. They get tired of buying stuff and stashing it here and go upstairs to their rooms to party. They want their stuff from here at the check table, and one of the floor boys comes down with a cart and a fistful of tickets and gets the stuff. Been three or four of them down here already, collecting boxes and suitcases and what have you. One of 'em must have grabbed your case by accident."

Justin looked horrified. "But our clothes were in that case!"

"Relax, speedo." The woman dug in a pocket and pulled out her cell. "Let me call the desk, and we'll straighten this whole thing out."

The woman turned away from them and started talking into the phone.

"Shit!" Justin hissed, pacing quickly back and forth a single time. "This is not good!"

"It's just clothes," Kyle returned, shaking his head. "I'll miss my running shoes, but the rest is no great loss."

Justin ceased his private fret and turned to stare at him. "Are you serious? Is that all you're thinking about? Your shoes?"

Kyle grimaced, and then assumed a patient look. "They're just clothes, Justin."

The other boy leaned forward. "They're our street clothes. Comprende, mi amigo?"

Kyle's patient look turned stubborn. "Yeah. Okay, they're our street clothes."

Justin stared at him for several more seconds before realizing his friend still didn't get it. "How'd we get here, Kyle?"

"Duh! We walked."

"Uh huh. And how far was that?"

"Fifteen blocks."

Justin waited a moment, and then nodded. "And how long did it take us?"

His friend squinted a moment. "I think it was little over a half hour, wasn't it?"

"A little more. Say forty minutes. Out in public. On the street."

Kyle finally looked annoyed. "What the hell is your point?"

Justin's eyes widened, and then he grinned. "You wanna walk fifteen blocks, for forty minutes, in public, at rush hour...dressed like that?"

Kyle looked down at himself a moment, and when his eyes came up again they held a note of panic this time. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, oh, shit! If this scullery maid can't find my case, we're walking back to my place as Speedy and Robin. In broad daylight, on the city streets!"

Despite the gravity of the situation, a smile tried to appear on Kyle's face. "Scullery maid? Where'd you get that?"

And, also, despite the gravity of the situation, Justin couldn't help grinning. "I read it in Rip Hunter, Time Master. It's what they called a kitchen maid a few hundred years ago."

"Golden age!" Kyle said lightly, grinning. "Who's Rip Hunter?"

"He's before your time. Don't get started on that again!"

"Sorry." Kyle scratched his head, looked down at himself again, and then looked up at his friend, determination having replaced the panic. "Hell, I'm game."

Justin clapped a hand to his forehead. "That's because you're crazy!"

The two boys looked at each other in silence, and Justin could see the hurt in his best friend's eyes. He sighed then, and put a hand on Kyle's shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean that."

Kyle shrugged. "It's just...if we have to do it, we have to do it. It's what a Teen Titan would do. They don't run away from the hard stuff."

Justin found a grin and let it out. "No, they don't. I...wait."

The woman had turned back to them now and was putting her phone away. "Um...complication."

Justin sighed. "That figures."

"Yeah, well, it ain't my fault, fella. It looks like your case probably went to the room of a guy named Carpenter. The floor boy what took it remembers it. Black case with a white stripe."

"That's it!" Justin exclaimed, feeling relief wash over him. "Can we go and get it?"

The woman actually looked a little sorry this time. "Well, you could, except this guy Carpenter checked out an hour ago and headed back to Syracuse. He took all his stuff with him, including your suitcase, I guess. The garage attendant what loaded his car remembers putting the case in the guy's trunk. Black with a white stripe."

Justin's jaw dropped.

"Wait, wait," the woman continued, before the boys could speak. "The desk already called this guy's house and told his old lady the situation. She's gonna have the suitcase shipped back here at the hotel's expense, and you should be able to pick it up in a coupla days. Sorry, but that's the best we can do."

"A...couple...of...days." Justin repeated.

"I just need some contact information, 'kay?" the woman handed them a pad of forms and a pen. "They'll call you when the case gets back here."

"Gee, thanks," Justin said, not in any way disguising the way he felt about that.

Two kids dressed as supervillains arrived then, towing a mom that looked tired and grumpy. The check woman told them to leave the pad on the table when they were done and she would see to it after, and then obviously pushed them from her conscious thoughts and turned to the new arrivals.

Justin fumed as he filled out the claim form, while Kyle took a covert look at the two supervillains. They weren't DC villains, but Marvel villains, and he wasn't sure which two they were. Marvel comics were cool, but a guy tended towards one or the other, DC or Marvel, and knowing everything about both was pretty hard. That was without even considering all the different ages and eras of both comic universes. Supervillains bred like flies, and were on every wall you looked at. A good guy never knew who would appear next to try to do him in.

One of the two villains noticed him looking and smiled. He looked to be fifteen or sixteen, the same age as Kyle and Justin, and he filled his tight suit nicely. Kyle smiled back and gave him the thumbs up, but pulled his eyes away as Justin finished writing and pushed the pad of paper and the pen to the backside of the table.

"Come on. We might as well get started."

Justin grabbed his bow and they turned together and headed for the hallway. A short walk brought them to the lobby, where rush hour traffic crawled by outside. Exiting the hotel wasn't that hard. This was a big convention, and people were everywhere. Several signs on the sidewalk outside welcomed arrivals to the Comic Universe Con, and more than a few costumed people were there, sitting on the benches or just standing around talking. No one would pay attention to two more.

Yet.

Even in the cars going by, no one was gawking. Drivers were too concerned with their own plight, crawling along at less than a walking pace, to worry about what was happening on the sidewalk beyond. The boys walked out among the others there, and looked off down the street, the way they would have to go.

"You ready?" Kyle asked, taking one gloved hand and punching it firmly into the other.

"I guess." Justin held up his bow, and stared at it sadly. He was actually pretty good with it, and would have felt better if the damn thing was strung. But carrying a strung bow along with arrows was the same as going armed, and in the city it just wasn't done. Even if it had been allowed on the streets, most conventions had moved years ago to limit the number of weapons carried inside by fantasy-clad barbarians, aliens, heroes, and villains. Once you'd tried to crowd into an elevator along with a coupla guys dressed as Conan and carrying a broadsword and an axe, you'd understand completely. No weapons allowed.

They started down the street, heading for home...and whatever else might come.