Counter Point Café

Long time, no see my friends! I have successfully merged back into dormitory life, though I never left college life over the summer, and moved once again into a room the size of a shoe box with another person. This one is bound to be a bit slow, and I'm dreadfully sorry for it now. I work very hard though. (Or, at least, I try like Hell too...)

This story is probably most dedicated to Tomi and Travis. Thanks for everything guys, you make writing this something I feel good about. Hopefully Gotham will be better to you than New York was.

Not that the rest of you are under appreciated, oh no, no, no! I most certainly love each and every one of you, but Tomi has helped out quite a bit in this. I hope you all understand, and enjoy the story regardless.

I don't own anything, believe me when I say that I would like to, however I do not. They in fact belong to DC Comics, Warner Brothers Studios, Christopher Nolan, Cillian Murphy, Christian Bale, Gary Oldman, and the late Heath Ledger. All elements of Gotham City are based off of Chicago, IL and are designed around blue prints and street maps I have of that area. Other elements are named for their original comic counterparts, as the back stories and basic personality traits are also based off of the comic counterparts. Read, enjoy, and review! Thank you!

Jonathan supposed that it didn't really matter just how this entire situation had come about, but that it had come about in the first place.

Wait, did that even make sense?

Jonathan didn't know, and though he seemed to know his own first name, he couldn't for the life of him figure out just why his last name was so difficult to remember all of a sudden. He knew it, and he knew he knew it, but he just couldn't recall it right now. Maybe that was because of the pounding in his head?

Jonathan, if that was indeed his real name, wasn't so sure.

Why couldn't his name be something cool like Xander or James Tiberius anyways?

Yeah, James Tiberius…he liked it.

Oh great, that train of thought only seemed to make his pounding head hurt worse.

He couldn't think of anything that could be possibly worse than this, this moment, this spot in time that he occupied relatively in some plane or dimension. Though, in all fairness and retrospect, having ended up here in the first place was probably bad enough as it was, without adding to the fact that he had no earthly idea who or where he'd come from or, for that all important matter, who he was now, and where he was going to go from here.

Speaking of which, just where was here, anyways?

He felt like he'd been hit head on by a bus driven by an insane, giggling, smiling feline with a habit of disappearing at bad times and absolutely no sense of direction, followed shortly by something he remembered vaguely as being purple and then shockingly green, coupled with faint metallic traces and squealing tires. Oh wait…he had been hit. The purple thing had hit him, though if it was a car; it was an awful color for one. Who paints a convertible that shade of purple and then puts a green top on it?

And striped the seats the same two colors, though in alternating patterns?

Rich people, that's who.

Jonathan, though he liked James Tiberius better, decided that the bumpy road which was beneath the car he was currently traveling in wasn't plush enough to soften the blows of being bounced about in such an awkward position. Speaking of which, just why was he in this random car anyways? Last thing he could remember was being on a long road with no lights, and it was dark outside, and there were these weird sounds and huge birds…and…

It didn't matter.

Jonathan didn't care.

He didn't care that he couldn't remember who he was, where he'd come from, who's car he was in, or even if it was the same car that he thought had hit him.

Jonathan just didn't care.

He didn't care, so much so, in fact, that he left a smile creep out onto his face. It made his cheek hurt a bit, but it wasn't anything he wasn't used to. Or was he? Did he smile often, because if he did, that meant something was more wrong with his face than what his blurry vision and probing fingers could find. His cheeks hurt!

Well, so much for that!

No sense doing something that hurt!

But why did it hurt?

So he decided to ask.

"Why does my face hurt?" Wow, was that really his voice? He sounded terrible! "Where am I?"

"Oh good, you're, uh, awake! I thought maybe I'd, um, you know, hit you too hard." A rather nasally voice replied, a greasy head jerking to glance in his direction. Jonathan couldn't quite see who it was, or what they were doing, but he just guessed they were driving. Did he wear glasses? "Didn't want to spoil the fun so, uh, soon, if you know what I, heh heh, mean."

Jonathan didn't know what he meant, but if the man was laughing, than clearly something had to be funny as well. So he laughed, though it was a bit strained due to the fact that he hurt everywhere, and that his body seemed almost resistant to the idea of laughing itself, but he did it. Slowly at first, strained giggles creeping out before full fledge torrents of laughter came out, along with the screeching of tires and breaks as he was flung forwards into the seat in front of him.

"Did you just, uh, laugh, Jonny Boy?" The mystery man asked carefully, tasting each word like it was a drink as Jonathan extracted his face from the back of the leather seat.

"You laughed, so I thought you said something funny. Who's Jonny Boy, is that me?" He asked carefully, peering around the front of the seat carefully. "I like that name, but don't you think James Tiberius sounds cooler? I don't remember where I heard the name at, but I like it better. Jonathan is so…boring, don't you think?"

"I think I hit you harder than I, uh, originally thought."

Jonathan might not have been a Trek fan, but I damn well am. And everyone has seen at least something from Trek right? Right? TOS shout out was a must. Xander is a Buffy the Vampire Slayer reference.