"Sshh, Zitka. Don't mind us." Dick stroked the elephant's trunk, gently pushing it away at the same time. "We're just passing through." He laughed as she kept trying to grab his arm. "Not now. I have to go take care of these crates first, okay? Then I can talk to you."

"Are you about done yet?" Apollo asked. Dick glared at him, despite the large gap in age and height.

Red stepped between them. "All right, since you two clearly can't get along, how about we just get on with moving these heavy and conspicuous crates?"

Dick pointed grumpily toward the farthest animal stall. "That one just has hay in it. You can bury them in it until whoever-it-is can pick them up."

Cole and Anthony did as he suggested, then the troupe, which was less like a troupe and more like a team, left to practice their acts, leaving Dick to talk to Zitka.

He stroked her trunk. "You know, this will probably blow up in my face." She gave a low grunt of agreement. "You're supposed to be on my side," he told her scoldingly. She just looked at him warmly.

"Stop making me feel guilty. I'm just doing it faster than those Teen Titans would have if they turned it over to the people in charge." He left her and went to the stall with the crates.

He started digging through the straw, revealing one of the crates they'd confiscated. He tugged it away from the wall and heaved the lid up, revealing the valuable contents. "All right, genius, let's get this over with," he muttered.

xXx

"What do you mean, they're gone?"

The hapless smugglers cowered before the speaker. "We got caught by this kid, and then he had backup, and--"

"Shut up." Their voice was dangerously quiet. The goons obeyed. "We need to find it before the League picks it up."

"How do you know they haven't--"

"If they have, I'll have your head. That's how." They sighed. "Come forward. Yes, that's it. One more step." The smugglers looked absolutely terrified. "You know, there's a reason I usually don't use hired help." Shing. "They never get the job done." Thud, thud, thud. "Although I suppose they would have been useful for cleaning up this mess."

xXx

Dick mindlessly did some acrobatic tricks alongside Angel as they walked with the team toward the main tent to practice their routine. "What was the scariest thing you've ever done?" he asked her.

"Why must you keep asking so many questions?" Red was clearly exasperated. "I know, I'm a fine one to talk. But really, do you never shut up?"

Dick shrugged. "I'm a curious soul."

Apollo glared at him. "One that clearly doesn't know his place."

Dick started walking on his hands. "Sheesh, somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed today." Apollo stormed ahead. "What's his deal?" Dick asked once he was out of earshot.

"He's just a bit grumpy you found out," Red told him. "Pay him no heed."

He did a couple cartwheels. "You should be a barker. Or one of the people who gets everybody's attention or something. You're cut out for it."

Red shrugged. "I'm not much of one for talking in front of crowds."

"Practice makes perfect."

"I'll consider it, if only to make you shut up."

"I'll take that." He did a series of handsprings, landing ten feet in front of them. "Are you guys coming or not?"

The shadowy figure watched from afar as the group made its way to the big top. "Each of you knows where it is. The question is, who is the weak link?" His wandering gaze landed on the small figure holding the tent flap open with a dramatic bow. His eye narrowed, and under his black-and-orange mask, he smiled. He knew how he was going to get his shipment.

"Mister Haly, have you considered having Red as a barker? I think he's really cut out for it." Dick tried to make a mental note of Red's superhero name as he spoke, but it ended up not a priority over the conversation at hand.

"C'mon, Dick, can you please drop--"

"I agree." Red looked at Haly in shock, and Dick grinned. "I think we ought to give him a shot. I've seen him on the trapeze, and yes, he's fine at that, but it's not where he'd be best."

Dick elbowed Red, who quickly clapped his mouth shut. "You're a barker now!"

Red sighed resignedly. "When do I start?"

"Today, as soon as we open it up to the rubes. You'll be introducing Dick."

"Wait, what?"

Haly rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Dick, mister dramatic, wanted to have a small show on the midway."

It took Red a minute to remember that the midway was where people had their entertainment before the man show; food was sold, games were played, and rides were ridden there. He looked at Dick. "Why does he want to do one there?"

"Because it's more fun and it gets people more interested in the show," Dick answered with a confident grin.

"Don't we already have a parade for that?"

"But that's not a preview performance like this," Dick said cockily.

"Dick wants to jump off of-- what was it? The Ferris Wheel?"

Dick stuck out his tongue at the ringmaster. "I wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel and make a big show of climbing down from the top," he explained.

Red looked concerned. "Isn't that a bad idea? Like, won't it be a problem when people try to mimic you later?"

Dick waved him off. "Just say I'm a trained professional and that people shouldn't try to replicate it."

"I still don't think this is a good idea." Red's eyes widened when he saw Dick's expression. "Oh, no you don't. No-- no puppy eyes. That's cheating." Dick persisted. "Oh, come on." Red sighed and ruffled his raven hair. "Fine, you dork. Now cut it out."

Dick pumped his fist. "Yes!"

"Rub it in, why don't you," Red muttered, though he was grinning.

Dick ran over to the rest of the troupe, beaming. "Who wants to see my act?"

Red turned around to talk to Haly but saw him walking outside, presumably to talk to another act. He ran after him.

Outside, he couldn't find Haly. He asked around, but apparently, the ringmaster knew how to pull a vanishing act. Red turned back to go back into the tent, but a glint on one of the hills beside the circus caught his eye. He ducked between two food booths, then sped off, concerned for what it meant if it was what he thought it was.

He arrived beside where he saw the glint to find a sniper rifle resting on a bipod, pointed toward the big top. However, there was no one to be seen. "That's what I thought," he said quietly.

Red darted around the area, trying to find whoever had put the gun there. Why would they just--

Someone rammed into him. He felt weightless for a moment, then he slammed into a tree. He gasped in pain and shock and clutched his ribs, bruised at the very least.

"You found me," an intimidatingly low and smooth voice declared. Red didn't know the voice, but when he looked up, he instantly recognized the mask.

His voice caught in his throat. "Deathstroke."

"You're fast, kid. I'll give you that. But I'm here for my shipment."

Red struggled to lift himself up. "That was yours?"

Deathstroke sighed. "For one of your speed, you can be incredibly slow. Yes, it's mine. And I would like to have it back."

Kid Flash staggered to his feet and stood in a ready stance. "Well, I'm not telling you where it is."

"Oh, let me guess. It's not in the big top, is it? No, someone would see it." Kid Flash ran forward, swinging his fist. Deathstroke grabbed it and twisted his arm. "It's not in one of the food stalls, there would be too many questions." The redhead managed to pull away and kicked out at the mercenary. Deathstroke stepped on his foot, causing him to cry out in pain. He pinned the speedster down, pressing his foot into his back. "I know where you put it. Somewhere only those who are authorized to can go. Not only that, but somewhere people only go if they have business there." Deathstroke leaned in closely. "The animal stalls."

Just like that, he was gone. The crushing weight was no longer pressing all air out of him, and he gasped in relief.

But then he realized: Deathstroke knew.

He ran to where the rifle had been set up, pointed at the big top. It was gone. He ran around the area, looking for any sign of the mercenary, but to no avail.

He was gone.

xXx

"... and he knows where it is."

Everyone looked at Kid Flash in shock. "What do you mean--"

The speedster interrupted Artemis. "We might be able to catch him if we go now and--"

"Let's go," Aqualad said grimly. "We must defend the shipment."

Kid Flash nodded and ran ahead. He got to the stall and noted with relief that the crate was still there. When the rest of the team arrived, he told them of the fortunate news.

"So now we just wait for him," he suggested.

"Red? Angel? Anyone?" someone was calling. After a moment, Kid Flash realized it was Dick. Everyone walked out of the stall to find Dick walking between cages and stalls, calling their names.

"What is it, Dick?" Red asked with some irritation in his tone.

"It's time for the show!" he called from the far side of the pens.

"The show isn't for another two hours," Cole said, confused.

Red was a bit baffled himself until he remembered-- Dick's show. The pre-show show. He sighed. "Can't it wait a little longer?" he called back.

"No," was the answer.

Red gestured for Dick to come over. Dick hesitated, but at Red's insistence, joined them. "What?" he asked.

"The guy who was smuggling the drugs knows where they are and is going to come for them," Red explained.

Dick looked from Red to the others to the pen and back again. "Okay?"

"He's going to come soon."

"Are you sure?" He seemed remarkably calm about it.

Red crossed his arms. "What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I'm sure."

"Because it kinda looks like he's already been here."

Everyone whirled around to look at what he was talking about. In the stall, the straw was strewn about recklessly. Where the hay had been piled to conceal the crates, there was now half a stack with a large dent in it where the precious material had been contained.

The team ran into the stall, desperate to find some sign that they were mistaken, but to no avail.

Dick kicked some of the straw to one side. "He probably didn't know where the crates were until you led him to them. You got duped," he told them.

Red glared at him. "Unless you have something to say that's actually helpful, could you please not talk?" Dick shrugged and walked to Zitka's stall and started talking softly to her instead.

Red turned to the team. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I--"

Anthony interrupted him, "It is not your fault. You could not have known that it was a ruse."

"Dick seemed to pick up on it pretty quick, though," Red said ashamedly.

"Hey guys, could you come here for a second?" the acrobat called.

The team reluctantly went to the next stall over. "What?" Red asked irritatedly.

Dick held up three familiar-looking tubes. "Figured you might want to hear about these."

They all gaped at him. "Where did you--" Angel started.

He just shrugged. "I figured someone might come looking for the drugs and decided that it might be a good idea to take some precautions just in case."

Anthony held out his hand for the vials, and Dick complied. "That is fortunate," he admitted, "but also convenient, if you do not mind me saying."

Dick grinned sheepishly. "I had this vague idea of telling them where it was and tracking them."

"How were you planning on tracking them?" Diana asked skeptically.

"I planted a tracker in the crate," Dick said, his tone drawing dangerously near pride.

They just stared at him in disbelief. After a moment, Dick crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Are we just going to stand around here like a bunch of idiots? Because I have a performance that I don't plan on missing." He looked pointedly at Red.

Red groaned. "You're serious about that?"

"I never joke about the show," he said solemnly.

xXx

Dick bowed dramatically. Red beamed into the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for--"

"Richard John Grayson!"

Red looked to see who spoke and found none other than Mary Grayson storming over, apparently unhampered by her crutches. Dick blushed and tried to duck away into the crowd, but she grabbed the back of his shirt. "Where have you been, young man? I haven't seen you since breakfast! And what do you think you're doing, pulling a stunt like that?"

"Mom!" Dick whined. "It was a performance!"

"Performance, my tush." Then she added to the amused crowd, "If you'll pardon the expression."

Red stepped forward. "But, ma'am--"

She gave him a dangerous look. "And don't even get me started on you." He gulped and took a step back.

Mary turned and started back toward the big top. Dick followed behind, knowing it would be useless to resist. As he passed Red, he shot his accomplice a sheepish grin.

Red waited for him outside the animal stalls. When at last the chastised acrobat trudged over, Red asked, "So? What's the final ruling?"

Dick grinned. "I'm not grounded."

"So what'd you get? A smack on the wrist?"

"A severe talking-to. And my mom is chewing out Mister Haly right now for 'enabling my reckless behavior'." He made air quotes with his fingers.

John wheeled himself over. "She does have a knack for that, doesn't she," he chuckled.

Dick grinned. "You said it."

"Uh, sir--" Red started.

John shook his head, cutting him off. "I've got a name, you know."

"...Mr. Grayson?"

"Better."

"Will Dick be doing this again?"

John shrugged. "Depends on whether we can convince his mother that it isn't a terrible idea."

"Doesn't it matter what Mister Haly has to say?"

"Against Mary? He could barely get a word in edgewise." Father and son shared a knowing look.

"D'you think he would try?" Red asked.

Dick shrugged and started to walk backwards to the big top. "Maybe. Central City is our next stop, and they go crazy over that kind of stuff."