From Gotham to Cairo

Striking The Match

"Dick, Dick!" Jason called, shaking Dick awake.

"What is it?" Dick asked, immediately reaching for his eskrima stick.

"Damian said he saw something on the news at the TV store, down the block," Jason explained as Dick rose to his feet.

"Robbery?"

"No, it's us," Jason answered, as he lead Dick to the TV store.

"What about us?"

"We're on the news," Jason responded.  "The TV store is right up here," Jason said, pointing to a giant LED TV being sold.

They walked up to Damian and silently watched the news.  Well, at least Dick and Damian did.  Jason, not knowing a word of Arabic, started tapping his foot lightly against the hard pavement.

"I guess we're dead," Dick said, turning in Jason's direction.

"Excuse me?"

"The newscaster said an unknown terrorist organization attacked our hotel and shot up the place.  It appears the Assassins set the hotel on fire.  There were no causalities except, Matt from the travel agency, and since they didn't find our bodies, us," Dick translated.

"Poor son of a bitch," Jason mourned.  "What about the code the Assassins have?  The one about not killing civilians?"

"The League of Assassins do not kill civilians unless, the civilian in particular, was preventing them from there goal.  I assume Matthew was blocking the doorway," Damian assumed.

Trying to look on the brighter side Jason said, "Well, this is a promotion from Miami and Las Vegas."

"What do you mean?"

"Back in Miami and Las Vegas we were wanted by the police," Jason reminded.  "At least we're dead here.  Nobody's looking for us."

"Except for the a group of highly trained assassins," Dick replied nonchalantly.

Damian, however, had more pressing questions.  "When did you learn Arabic, Grayson?"

"That's an interesting question that we will save for a rainy day," Dick replied.  "We have this to worry about right now."

"I will try to find some other means of contacting Father while you two get some food.  I believe there is a grocery store not too far from here," Damian recalled.

"That's great, but how will we pay for it?"

"There is a limited amount of money in my pillow," Damian answered shortly.

"Where did you get that from?" Jason asked curiously.  He narrowed his eyes at Damian, who winced.

"I prefer not to say," Damian said edgily, his foot starting to tap nervously.

"C'mon, Littlewing, give me a hint," Jason pushed.

"Fine!  As I ambled my way to watch the local news, an elderly lady assumed I was a homeless orphan and gave me twenty Egyption Pounds," Damian snapped.  His cheeks flushed dark pink and he blinked quickly.

Jason whistled.  "Twenty?  Wow, that's a lot of money for a random hobo."

Damian rankled.  Random hobo...  "Don't be ridiculous, Todd.  Twenty Egyption Pounds is approximately three United States dollars," Damian quickly converted mentally, trotting off to find a way to contact Bruce without another word.

"Twenty Egyption Pounds, huh?  That's probably enough to buy us, what, a box of protein bars?"

Dick shrugged as he walked off to the general direction of the grocery store.  Jason grabbed the few bills from Damian's pillow and jogged to catch up to him.

"Any luck?" Jason asked, resting on his makeshift bed.

"None," Damian replied dryly.

"Cheer up," Jason responded, tossing Damian a protein bar.  "It'll make you feel better."

Damian raised his eyebrow.

"Eat up," Jason prompted.  "We only have a few more of those."

Damian reluctantly ate his protein bar, nibbling at the oatmeal and peanut butter with a slightly scrunched up nose.

"Grayson, where have you been?" Damian asked, as Dick came in carrying an armful of newspaper.

"After we bought the protein bars, I realized we had spare change and bought as many newspapers as I could," Dick answered, rifling through them.

"Pass one other," Jason commanded.

Dick obliged, giving his brother a sheet of newspaper.

"I'll be right back," Jason said, walking across to a nearby homeless man digging in a trashcan for food.

Damian and Dick watched Jason make some hand gestures and handed over the newspaper.

"What was that all about?" Dick asked, as Jason returned.

"That, my young Skywalker, is business.  I gave something to him and he gave something to me," Jason justified patronizingly.

"What did he give you?"

"Service.  I figured that we haven't slept in awhile and why make one of us be a lookout for the Assassins when we can have someone else do it.  Say a homeless man," Jason offered.

"But you don't know any Arabic.  How did you communicate?"

"Lesson two in doing business, if you want what your business associate has to offer you will find a way to communicate.  Common hand gestures and the giving of newspaper for one," Jason listed.

"How do you know you can trust him," Damian inquired cynically.

"For every day that passes and he continues to keep us safe, I'll give him more newspapers.  If he wants more newspapers, he'll continue to watch over us."

Damian made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat, but didn't press the matter.  "Again with the newspapers," he muttered.

"That settles it.  I'm going to bed," Dick announced.

"Bed?  Grayson, we only woke up a few hours ago," Damian said puzzled.

"Well, that guy Jason did business with is our lookout so I'm going to take advantage of the situation and sleep," Dick explained, curling under some recently purchased newspaper.

"Does anyone have any hand sanitizer?" Jason asked.

"I have some in my miniature first aid kit," Damian responded.

Jason started to dig for the hand sanitizer in Damian's first aid kit.  "Aha," Jason said once he found it.  "Here it is."

"Todd, what do you wish to do with it?" Damian asked.

Jason squeezed the bottle down a nearby trashcan and whipped out a matchbox.  Striking the match against the surface of the matchbox, Jason then threw it into the trashcan.  In answer to Damian's question, the trashcan erupted in flames.

"Well, that should keep us warm for awhile," Jason said proudly.

"Todd, you literally just set a trashcan on fire," Damian stated.  He looked slightly confused.  "Is this normal behavior 'on the streets'?"

"Damian, you've got no idea what normal behavior on the streets is like."