A/N: Well, since I already gave away the whole plot for the story in the description, there's not much to put here.

I want no dissing, so I'm not claiming: I do not own Batman Beyond. I do not own any high tech suits of awesomeness. I do not own anything that has anything to do with Batman.

Well, I have some DVDs around here somewhere... But one of them is so old all the punching and kicking is covered by giant stars exclaiming BAM! and WHAM! and KERPOW! and Robin is a grown man wearing a leotard. And the other is another old one, the one with Ivy and Mr. Freeze. But at least Robin wore pants in that one...

I'm getting side tracked. Please forgive me, I'm a bit ADD. Not diagnosed, but I might as well be. My sister has compared me to an ADHD squirrel on crack.

And I'm sidetracked again.

Well. I'm just gonna start the chapter before I accidentally tell you my whole life story.

(The single line break thing isn't working. Please pretend this is a line.)

I open the door to my apartment, absolutely exhausted from all the work at school today. The Principal had cancelled all classes today, which should be good, right?

Wrong.

He decided it would be a great idea if we all built cars!

And not for ourselves, either. No, he took us to a factory and showed us where criminals were building cars for the city. Then, to give us an idea of what we'd be getting into if we became criminals, he had us build some cars. The guy in charge of the place said we were welcome to come back any time, probably because we worked harder and faster than the guys who were there all day, every day.

I notice a note on the counter to my left as I pull a juice bottle out of the fridge. I grab it and my juice before crashing on my bed, ready for some well earned zs. I pull my laptop out of my backpack and power it up. I really wish I hadn't put off studying for the bio quiz tomorrow, because now, instead of catching up in the sleep department, I have to study the shape, margin, and venation of leaves. Who cares?

Apparently the bio teacher does.

As I'm waiting for my computer to finish booting ( it decided today was a good day to be slow), I remember the note and pick it up.

It's a piece of paper folded over twice. The corners meet perfectly, which means it isn't from Terry. The creases weren't run over by a nail, which means it isn't from Dana, either. The paper is fresh and crisp (rule out Howard and all the jocks), and there's nothing written on the outside (not from Blade, either).

What? Terry isn't the only one with detective skills around here.

The only thing left to do is open it up and read it.

Let's see...

Maxine Gibbson,

(Full name? Uh oh...)

I have Batman.

(Double uh oh)

If you want him to remain alive, you will go to Wayne-Powers next Friday and retrieve every credit Mr. Wayne owns. You will bring it to the Gotham Herald building next Saturday, 11 p.m. Come alone. If you tell the police, Mr. Wayne, or anyone else what you're doing, Batman will come back. In pieces.

If you fail... It won't be pretty when they find the body.

So unless you like sishkabobbed bat, I suggest you don't fail.

...

What now?

She said not to tell anybody, but I have to tell Mr. Wayne. I'll bet whoever has Terry has my phone bugged, and it's pretty easy to hack someone's messages these days, if you know how.

Only option: I'm gonna have to either drive or walk. I'd prefer to drive, but I don't have a car, and driving Terry's wouldn't be a very good idea right now. The police might get suspicious.

Walking it is, then.

I'm so gonna fail that bio quiz tomorrow.