"SHIT!" A hailstorm of gunfire erupts as Dick and Jason run for cover. Discretion is sometimes the better part of valor.

"Friends of yours?" Dick shouts as he puts a few wooden crates between his skin and the incoming bullets. He's not sure what's in them, but he's not getting shot, so hey, victory.

"Like hell," Jason retorts from several feet away, also hidden by the crates as he reloads his guns to return fire.

Dick's pretty sure he's out of rubber ammo and is using the real deal now. He grimaces and starts to formulate a plan to get them out of here without his brother needing to actually shoot someone.

BAM!

Too late. Dick hears someone cry out in pain. "That better have been someone's knee!"

Jason chuckles darkly, the sound even more eerie through his helmet. "He's got another hand. Time to make friends with lefty."

Definitely not good. Dick peers around his stack of crates to see if there's anyway he can get them out of the warehouse. What they thought was a drug deal is turning into a weapons deal and man, Tim is going to be pissed when he finds out the information he passed along to him was off the mark.

So far, no one's managed to come up from behind, so Dick takes a rolling leap across the aisle to the next stack of crates while Jason covers him. More screams echo through the cavernous room as his shots hit their mark. Say what they will about Jason and his propensity towards guns, he is an excellent marksman.

He can't see any means of escape from here, so he ducks around a few more storage containers. A few stray bullets hit the metal around him, ricocheting off to who knows where. He doesn't even flinch and vaults upwards with a powerful leap, easily hauling his body up and over the edge and out of sight.

From his new vantage point, he spots a door about a hundred feet away.

"Hood! On your eight! Let's go!"

There's another shout below him, then an explosion rocks the room.

Behind his mask, Dick's eyes widen as he turns, gasping in horror. Before he has a chance to panic, Jason's gloved hand grasps the edge of the container and rolls his heavier and better armored body over the edge. He's laughing.

"Grenade. My only one, so let's not waste it, Big Bird."

"We're going to have a talk about scaring me like that," Dick snaps as they start running over the tops of the stacked containers and crates to the door.

"I think you oughta have a little chat with the Replacement about his fucked up intel. Drugs my ass, those were some pretty sweet lookin' assault rifles down there."

"Did you blow them up?" They jump down to the floor and sprint for the door.

"I think it clipped the crate. At worst, they're bent outta shape." Jason holds his hand up when they reach the exit. As much as it galls Dick, he lets his brother open it cautiously and peek out.

He's the one covered head to toe in some form of armor, but it still doesn't make it any easier.

"Looks clear, let's go."

Dick follows after Jason as he runs down the dark narrow alley between the warehouse and the next one. It absolutely reeks. The rain from earlier has passed, leaving puddles everywhere. Even after a good rain, Gotham never smells clean.

"So where did those other guys come from?" he asks. "Whoever they were, they interrupted a deal already in progress."

"A third party that got gypped is my guess." Jason pauses as they reach the end of the alley. They'd exited the building about halfway down. "I heard someone shoutin' about how that shit was theirs fair and square."

Dick snorts at the image that comes to mind. "Where did they think they were? The playground?"

"I know, right?" Jason laughs again, low and dark, which seems to be the only way his helmet filters what Dick knows is normally a richer sound.

The sound of gunfire breaks through the silence.

Jason pokes his head out to see what's going on. "That's comin' from the front," he relays.

"Same group as inside?"

"Looks like their backup. You won't believe they're drivin'."

"What?"

"A minivan."

Dick can't help the snort of laughter that escapes. "You're kidding."

"I swear on Alfred. Look." Jason moves to the side to allow Dick to peer around the corner of the alley.

"Holy crap," he breathes as he watches some men strafe the front of the warehouse with gunfire from the open side door of a light colored minivan.

"I think these are officially the lamest bad guys in the world." Dick can feel Jason laughing behind him.

"At least it's not a powder blue Prius."

"Huh?" Jason sounds confused.

"A powder blue Prius." Dick casts an eye over his shoulder at his little brother. "You know, deet deet!"

"I have no idea what you're talkin' about." The taller man shakes his head.

Sighing, Dick rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the morons in front of them. "You and I need to sit down and watch Jeff Dunham sometime."

"Whatever, Dickieboy." Jason sounds done with the conversation. "So what's the plan? Shoot the bad guys and send them home crying for mommy?" He hefts one of his guns for emphasis.

Another idea comes to mind, one that sounds even better as Dick watches one of the guys open the trunk of the van. "We're stealing the minivan."

"What?"

"Come on!" Dick rushes out of the alley, crossing the street quickly and hugging the shadows on the other side. He's not worried about being seen as the other men are intently focused on shooting the front of the warehouse and whoever's moving in there.

As he gets closer, he realizes the gunfire is covering fire as someone rushes out of the warehouse clutching a long bulky case. Another man rushes after him with a similar one.

""Wing, I think I know what those are!" Jason whispers loudly from behind him. He sounds excited.

Yeah, he does too. RPGs. Jason's favorite.

"You don't get to keep them." Dick crouches and waits, wanting to time this just right. The explosives are loaded into the back of the van.

"Says you," his brother mutters over his shoulder.

It's time. The trunk closes automatically. "Let's go!" Dick rushes the van, easily taking out one of the armed men with the swipe of an escrima across his jaw.

Next to him, Jason rushes forward, brawler that he is, and easily punches someone in the face and tosses them over his shoulder. The man hits the ground with a groan, which only gets louder as Jason purposefully steps on him as he engages another man. The heel of his boot grinds in as he pushes off to kick the next man.

There are only six men and they don't stand a chance between the two well-trained vigilantes. Dick whips open the driver door and hauls out the man from behind the wheel. "I believe this is my ride. Thanks for keeping the seat warm," he quips as he knees the man hard in the stomach and drops him. "Hood!"

Jason drops the last man and jumps in the van through the open side door. "I can't believe we're stealin' a minivan." He flops onto a back seat as the door closes and Dick peels away with a squeal of tires.

"What are you bitching about? There's plenty of room back there for you and those big feet of yours." While Dick's driven any number of vehicles over the years, driving a van like this is a first. It handles differently from the commercial vans he's more familiar with.

"You know what they say about big feet." Dick doesn't need to see Jason's face to know he's leering.

"You use big guns too. Compensating for something?"

"I haven't heard any complaints."

"That's what she said." Dick checks the rearview mirror and swears as he sees two cars coming up fast from behind. "Crap. Jace, we got company."

"Anything's better than this conversation." Jason pulls out one of his semiautomatics and deftly removes the clip to start refilling it.

"Aw, I'm hurt. Right here." Dick lays a gloved fist over his heart. "Hang on to something, this thing drives like a beached whale."

Jason's retort is lost as a bullet hits the rear windshield with a loud crack. He starts moving to the back of the van, cursing as he trips over the seats. "Seriously, who the fuck drives a minivan to a gun drop?"

"They're supposed to be pretty spacious." Dick starts swerving and weaving down the, thankfully empty, road. "Those seats fold down for more room."

"I wanna rip them out."

Dick grins as the memory of a scene from a certain movie comes to mind. "Hey, Little Wing, ever see Mr. and Mrs. Smith?"

"The fuck is that?" Jason ducks as the rear window is shot again, leaving a big enough hole he can shoot through.

Of course the movie and the reference goes right over his brother's head. He'll need to fix that, even if he has to kidnap him when this is over and tie him down to make him watch it. "Let's just say if one of those cars comes up alongside us, those side doors are going to come in handy." Dick takes a corner too fast and the van rocks hard, causing Jason to lose his balance and fall against one of the back seats.

"You need to learn how to drive, Dickwing!" he shouts. "Oh, what's this?" Dick barely catches him muttering as something catches his attention in the trunk.

"I'm doing the best I can. Think you can do better?" He really hopes Jason takes him up on the challenge. There's something he wants to try but can't unless someone else takes the wheel.

"Hell yeah, I could. But there's no way you're getting me up there. Pop the trunk!"

"No RPGS!" He hits the trunk release, not even sure if it'll activate when the van's in drive.

Someone must have fiddled with the electronics in the vehicle as the van's tailgate opens. Dick's not sure if he should be happy about that.

"You're takin' all the fun outta this!" Jason kneels and holds up one of the assault rifles they'd seen back in the warehouse and starts shooting as soon as it's clear. One of the men carrying the RPGs must have rescued it.

"Shit," Dick mutters and takes another corner hard. "I count two cars." There's a loud crash from behind him and he catches a bright flash of light in the mirror. "Or is that only one now?"

"Just one. The other got acquainted with a street light."

No sooner does he say that than another vehicle comes flying up alongside the other one. Someone leans out the window and starts shooting at them.

"Where the hell did they all come from?" Dick takes a left at the next corner, hoping the other cars are too close to make the turn. No such luck. Jason laughs loudly and sends another spray of gunfire over them both.

"Two buyers. One seller. You do the math." Even with his filters, Jason sounds way too amused with this.

"I count way too many cars and people shooting at us," he retorts as a bullet hits the front windshield finally and sends a spider's web of cracks through it.

"All part of the job that none of us get paid for!"

Dick laughs because it's true and yanks hard on the wheel to cut off the dark car trying to creep up alongside them.

"Nightwing, you drive like a fucking pussy!" Jason roars from the back of the van. "Step on it!"

He swerves again. "Get up here if you think you can do better!"

Jason growls in frustration, fires off the gun again to give them some cover, and vaults over the two rows seats. "Move your fat ass," he orders as he takes the wheel.

Glad to finally have chance to play, Dick slides gracefully out from the driver's seat as Jason takes his place, making sure the child safety locks are off as he lets go of the wheel. "My ass is not fat. I dare you to find anyone with better glutes than me."

"An ass by any other name is still an ass." Jason hits the gas hard and the van accelerates forward.

"And you call yourself a fan of the Bard...Watch the corners, they're a bitch!" Dick warns as the van starts lurching left and right as Jason practices his defensive driving skills.

He kneels down between the second row of seats and fumbles with the catches below the one of them. First one side comes loose, then the other. Dick grins and waits for the bullet-splattered car behind them to get a little closer.

Perfect. He tosses the seat out the trunk and watches as it hits the hood of the car, getting stuck in the windshield in the process. The car swerves, does a 180, and crashes into a parked truck.

Jason chortles with laughter. "Oh fuck, that was awesome! Where'd you get that idea?"

"Hollywood," Dick retorts and starts folding down the seats in the middle row. "Let that last car come up next to us!"

"What? No!"

"Do it!"

Jason growls in frustration. "I hope you know what the hell you're doing!"

"Always!" Dick notices that somewhere along the way, his brother strapped down the cases the suspected RPGs were in. Good, as the last thing they need are for these to go flying.

The last vehicle is an SUV. It too is pockmarked with bullet holes and one enterprising soul is hanging out the side window trying to take aim at Jason.

Nope, he's already lost his brother once. He's not going to let that happen again. "Open the side doors!"

"You're crazy!" Jason shouts, but does as he's told.

"Aren't we all?" Dick grabs hold of the plastic handle above the door and leans out. He grabs hold of the gunman and yanks hard, pulling him out the window of the SUV and into the van. Punching him hard in the face, Dick rips the gun out of his hands, and tosses the man out the other open door, all in one smooth move. "See? As advertised, easy in, easy out!"

"Do you even listen to what you say sometimes?"

Dick watches as the SUV pulls back behind them. It looks like they're going to try for a more frontal (rear) assault. He quickly starts to disengage the catches on the other back seat. More gunfire erupts from the SUV and he ducks behind the remaining seat. Jason, however, twists around and fires a few shots from one of his semi-automatics. Each one hits the windshield of the rapidly approaching vehicle. "You gonna do that trick again?"

"It worked the first time!" He finishes with the last catch and adjusts his grip, waiting once again for his chance. Jason obligingly slows down a bit.

The last seat gets flung out the back of the open minivan, the metal frame of the underside smashing right into the windshield of the too-close SUV. The vehicle swerves and tips over as the driver loses control.

Dick reaches out and grabs the mangled door to the trunk and tries to pull it down. It does after a few tugs, but doesn't close all the way. Whatever, it's not like they're going to be in here for much longer.

He gracefully moves over the folded seats, closing the side doors as he does. Flopping bonelessly into the front passenger seat, Dick tosses a lazy grin at his brother and turns on the radio.

Of all things, it's a soft rock station that comes on. He starts laughing.

"I'm missing something, aren't I?" Jason looks over, the question obvious.

"Only one of the most over the top, bad ass movies of the mid 2000s." Dick stretches and puts his feet up on the dash. A couple kicks and the remaining pieces of the windshield finally break off and are left behind on the road. "Movie night?" he offers.

Jason hedges before he nods. "I'll bring the beer."

AN: Mr. & Mrs. Smith is one of my favorite movies. :D

Jason: "Why has no one made me see this movie before?"

Dick: "Because you never show up for movie nights. They're only Disney when Damian's around."

Jason: "I think I need to learn how to tango."