Dick held the drinks in his hands above his head as he maneuvered around a group of loudly speaking ladies gathered around the bar. Dick had never been to this bar before, but that wasn't unusual considering that he could count the number of times he had been to Gotham on one hand.
The Burning Bridge Tavern was, apparently, a favorite with the locals. It had looked like a hole in the wall to him, with the plain wood door and neon sign illuminating crumbling brick walls tagged sporadically with graffiti. But, Jason had assured him that it was the best bar around campus and he wasn't disappointed. The bar was pumping loud music out to the many college boys and girls gathered around the bar and clustered around the standing tables. Dick had no idea how they had snagged one of the booths in the back, but they had.
Dodging quickly, Dick was able to spin out of the way of two cackling coeds and duck back into their secluded booth. He slid the two glasses, already coated with condensation, across the scarred tabletop to Tim and Steph.
"Two midori sours!" he said brightly, smiling at the two college kids across from him. "If you don't like them, I will be severely surprised."
Tim and Steph exchanged a doubtful look, before looking back at the drinks Dick had brought for them. The liquid was green and bubbling in the glasses, ice cubes bobbing at the surface.
"Come on, be adventurous," Selina goaded them, elbowing Steph lightly with a wink.
Steph turned to Tim and shrugged. "Bottoms up," she said, before picking up the glass and tipping it up determinedly. Time was decidedly less enthusiastic, taking a cautious sip of his drink.
"It's sour!" the two exclaimed at nearly the same moment and in two completely different tones.
"Well, yeah," Dick laughed. "That's why they're called midori sour."
Steph grinned at Dick, who grinned back, obviously pleased with the drink he had got for her. Tim frowned down at his drink before slowly pushing it over to Steph to finish for him.
"So, at the risk of muddying our test results," Dick started, rolling his eyes slightly to indicate how likely he thought that was, "what do you guys know about the 'Stately Wayne Manor'?" Dick asked, complete with air quotes.
"Not much," Tim replied with a shrug. "It's sort of famous in Gotham for being haunted. But, beyond the fact of it being haunted, the stories and claims vary wildly."
"Yeah!" Steph added enthusiastically. "When I was a kid, I always heard that it was haunted by a witch who used to live there before they put up the manor or something."
"I always heard about the lady in white," Jason rumbled from his corner of the booth. "Catherine Wayne. She would wander the halls looking for her daughter, blah, blah, blah." Jason took another deep swallow of his beer and pulled an expression of distaste.
"What about you, Selina?" Dick asked. "You're from Gotham too, right?"
"Oh, sure! I'm a gothamite born and raised," Selina responded, shrugging. "You hear all sorts of things about the Waynes and you hear even more about their castle on the hill. One never knows what's real and what just hearsay."
"C'mon, you have to know something," Steph whined, leaning forward with her eyebrows raised. "You're, like, huge on the whole psychic scene."
Selina leaned back, pouting and obviously unhappy to hear that. Jason smirked over his beer, before making a point to look away.
"Ah, I don't follow ..." Dick said doubtfully, frowning at the strange change that Steph's begging had caused.
"Miss Kyle is controversial in the paranormal community here in Gotham," Tim said diplomatically, averting his eyes from everyone except Dick.
Dick frowned back at Tim, wondering if he should press any further. Before he could make any decision one way or another, Selina leaned over the table toward him, her long deft fingers pointing at him.
"I make too much money," she said, giving Dick a long blink and wrinkling her nose to communicate her feelings about that. "Anyone in our field who makes too much money or gains too much recognition make a lot of enemies quickly. I'm sure you're familiar with the phenomenon."
Dick grimaced sympathetically. He was, indeed, familiar with the kind of strange competition that seemed to sprout up in the paranormal community, especially among psychics. He was about to respond in kind when Jason snorted in derision from his right.
"Not all of us take money from little old grannies to tell them that their cats are happy and like having their bellies rubbed," Jason snarked, a mean smile smeared across his face.
Selina laughed, surprising everyone including Jason. "Darling, you could put me out of business if you had half a mind too," she responded, still laughing.
"Tch," Jason snorted, frowning determinedly down at his beer.
"Why do you say that?" Dick asked, confused.
"Because," Selina said, taking a big gulp of her martini before leaning over the table in a conspiring manner, "Jason is a spirit medium. He can see and talk to the dead. I just play at being one if the situation calls for it."
"Wait, I'm confused," Dick said, frowning and putting his hands up. "Are you not actually psychic? Does, uh," he faltered slightly, glancing at Tim and Steph. "Does Barbara know?"
Selina struggled to control a fit of giggles, "Oh, my gosh! You're precious!" she gasped.
Dick looked helplessly at Jason, but he was busy glaring at his beer like it did something to him personally. Steph was tittering into her glass and Tim stared back at him blankly.
Eventually, Tim seemed to take pity on him. Sighing, Tim explained, "Selina is psychic. She's a pre-cog, so think more crystal balls and fortune telling. She's very reliable. Barbara has tested her thoroughly."
"She has a bad reputation with some people, though," Steph explained further, smiling at Dick. "Because she will do cat readings and seances, which pre-cogs don't have any documented aptitude for."
"Sometimes the tourists just want a little razzle dazzle," Selina smiled, wiggling her fingers in some pretty good jazz hands. "And, I will stand by the cat reading! Cats and I have a special connection," she exclaimed, sounding indignant.
"Okay. So, you're a spirit medium, Jason?" Dick smiled and asked, turning to the other man.
Jason frowned back at Dick, "I'm a post cog," he said shortly.
"He sees dead people," Steph said, holding a hand up to her mouth and speaking sotto voce.
Jason rolled his eyes and Steph giggled, finishing the second midori sour.
"Not the most pleasant of abilities," Selina said sympathetically.
"No, not really," Jason bit out.
"What about you two?" Dick asked, smiling at the two youngest people at their table.
"I'm psychometric," Tim explained. He sighed gently at the round of blank looks he got. "More commonly known as a 'touch know' or psychoscopic. When I touch particular objects, I can sometimes gain knowledge or feelings from them about their owners or something that they were used for or around," he explained.
Jason frowned at the younger man, a small wrinkle appearing between his eyebrows. "But, not for everything?"
"No," Tim responded simply. "The more emotional energy that is put into an object, the more I can get from it. So, it could be something that meant a lot to somebody. A locket or a memento might hold the feelings of the person who held onto that object. An object that was used for and around something very emotional, like a murder or a birth, might hold a lot of energy even though the object itself wasn't very important. And, things that have a lot of tactile energy, like keys and computers and cellphones, gather energy just from the sheer amount of time they spend in someone's hand or being used. You'd be amazed how much I can pick up off of someone's cellphone alone," Tim intoned.
Subconsciously, Dick checked that his cellphone was still in his pocket.
"Are they, like, visions?" Jason asked, his beer forgotten.
"They're more like feelings, although sometimes I get flashes of images. A face or a house. Whatever memory the object brought up for the person holding it. It can be a little unpredictable sometimes," Tim frowned.
"Hum," Jason responded, frowning back himself.
The other three exchanged dubious glances between the two men, before Dick decided to jump in.
"So, Steph! What do you do?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah! I do automatic writing," she explained, miming writing in the air in front of her. "I didn't even know I could do anything like that until this guy," she said smiling and jerking a thumb toward Tim, "talked me into trying it at a party when we were freshmen. It's really crazy! Want to try it?" she asked, reaching into her bag and pulling out her tablet.
"Uh, sure! How does it work?" Dick asked.
"Just try to think something really loud, if that makes any sense. I'll pick up the strongest signal in the air," Steph explained, putting her tablet down on the table and pulling up a notepad app. She poised her stylus over the tablet and smiled at Dick expectantly.
"Okay," Dick responded, closing his eyes. He breathed deep and pictured a milkshake. A chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. He suppressed a sigh. He really needed to reel in his unearthly appetite. Where was he going to get a chocolate milkshake so late at night?
As Dick closed his eyes and thought about milkshakes, Steph also closed her eyes and began to make a repeated long loop on her tablet. As she did so, the loops began to transform into hearts. Heart, heart, heart, J, A, S ...
With a gasp, Tim snatched the tablet out from under Steph's hands and shoved it into her lap.
"What? What happened?" Steph asked, confused.
"Did it work?" Dick asked, opening his eyes.
Jason's frown was slowly growing into a shit eating grin pointed directly at a beet red Tim.
"Oh, god. Did it ever," Selina laughed, pointing her own cheshire's grin at Tim.
Steph eventually fought the tablet out of Tim's hands and looked at the screen. She barely suppressed a squeal. "Eee! Timmy!" she yelled.
"Everyone, just shut up!" he snapped, his face red to the ears.
"What? Can I see?" Dick asked, confused.
"Absolutely not!" Tim snapped. He then hurriedly shoved the tablet into Steph's hands before jumping up. "I've got to go to the bathroom," he mumbled, before disappearing into the crowd.
"He is going to come back, right?" Dick asked, worried.
"Once he nurses his pride. I'm his ride, anyway. He can't leave without me," Steph responded.
"I think he has the right idea," Selina purred, wiggling toward the end of the booth. Steph stood up to let her out. "Off to the little girl's room! Be right back," Selina tittered, waving at the three remaining people at the table with her fingers.
"What about you, Richard?" Steph asked, smiling at Dick as she tucked her tablet back into her bag.
"Oh, please! Call me Dick," Dick responded, waving his hands in the air. He ignored Jason's snort of laughter from his right. "My ability is a little, uh, unusual, I guess?" he said slowly, scratching at his cheek.
"Come on! I attend Barbara's parapsychology lectures regularly. Just try me!" Steph enthused, planting her elbows on the table and leaning forward.
Dick sighed and gave Stepha a long suffering laugh, before closing his eyes. He let his mind drift. In his mind's eye he saw Barbara Gordon, the young and determined professor that had tracked him down out in California and talked him into traveling across the country to participate in her investigation. She was dressed down now, her long red hair tumbling over her shoulders. She was sitting on an old worn in green couch in a long sleeve shirt and pajama pants with a laptop balanced on her knee. Someone was talking to her from the kitchen and she answered them distractedly.
"He calls her Babs..." Dick said slowly, a smile stretching across his face. "What a cute nickname, don't you think?" he asked, opening his eyes to smile at Jason and Steph.
"Oooookay," Jason said slowly.
"Oh!" Steph slammed her hand on the table, her face lighting up in recognition. "Remote viewing, right?" she asked, pointing a finger at Dick.
"Correct!" Dick exclaimed, impressed despite himself.
"Okay, you guys are weird," Jason groused. "I'm gonna go check on Tim."
"Aw, you're no fun!" Steph whined as Dick got up to let Jason out of the booth.
"That's me. No fun all day every day," Jason harrumphed. He stopped at the end of the table and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Hey, nice meeting you guys if I don't see you again before tomorrow."
Dick felt his eyebrows go up and imagined that Steph was wearing a similar expression. "Yeah, nice to meet you too, Jason," Dick responded automatically.
Jason nodded at the both of them before turning around and disappearing into the crowds.
Surprised, Steph turned to Dick and they shared similar expressions of disbelief. "Well," she said primly. "I guess Tim might not be coming back."
Meanwhile, across the bar, Selina weaved through groups of loud coeds gesturing wildly until she reached the back of the bar and the predictably small hallway that terminated in two swinging doors. In the predictable hallway was a predictable line for the women's bathroom. Sighing, Selina leaned against the the wall and pulled out a small compact mirror which she used to check her reflection.
After a few minutes of standing there, a more reserved looking Tim exited the men's room. He was still looking a little pink on the tips of his ears, but otherwise seemed to have regained his composure. He smiled haltingly at Selina, who grinned at him as he walked past her back toward the table.
It seemed like an age before Selina moved through the line and finally into a stall at the end of the bathroom. The door wouldn't latch properly, so she resorted to holding it shut with her foot while she did her business.
Once she was done, she stumbled out into the bathroom and toward the sinks. She could still hear loud music and louder voices from out in the bar, but the bathroom was eerily quiet. Turning off the water, Selina shook her hands to rid herself of whatever excess water still clung to them and looked around for a towel dispenser or one of those blow dryers mounted on the wall. As she glanced around, she suddenly noticed a flutter of black near the top of a stall.
Looking up, Selina saw a crow perched on top of the farthest stall. Its feathers were black and shiny, catching the light and shining it back in bent shades of blue and purple. Its beak was long and glossy and its eyes seemed to stare back into Selina's as she watched it.
Slowly, one foot in front of the other, Selina started to move toward the bird. It flicked its wings nervously and opened and closed its beak the closer she got. Finally it flew away, startling Selina back with a caw and a jump. Selina nearly tripped over her own feet as she stumbled backward to get out of its way. It flew right over her head and straight for the mirror.
Selina turned sharply, her eyes huge as she expected to see the bird slam headfirst into the glass, breaking its own neck and possibly the mirror. To her surprise, the bird flew right through the mirror as if it wasn't there and into a large wooded area with a familiar fountain.
Breath stuck in her chest, Selina approached the glass. It no longer appeared to be a mirror so much as a window into an overgrown garden at midday. Huge towering oak and maple trees leaned over a cement lanai leading out to a stone fountain headed by a sculpture of a woman in greco-roman robes covering her eyes. It was the same fountain that had featured prominently in the images Barbara Gordon had just been projecting on a screen in the lecture hall they all had just left.
As Selina stepped closer, the image adjusted itself for her position, showing her more of the garden. She looked up and what little she could see of the sky was a pale cloudless blue. She looked down and saw herself lying motionless on the cement lanai.
The Selina in the mirror was dressed in a black tank top and a pair of pajama pants Selina recognized as her own. She was lying on her back, her arms thrown wide to either side of her and her eyes staring blankly upward, unseeing. Around and on top of her body, a murder of crows pecked and picked at her flesh. They bit at her cheek and snapped at the soft skin of her inner arm. They cawed and cackled at one another, ruffled their feathers and lunged back and forth as they fought one another for the right to peck at Selina's dead body.
Tears gathered on the fringe of her eyelashes and with one gargantuan effort, Selina forced air into her starving lungs in a single strangled gasp. And, just like that, the spell was broken. The mirror cleared and only her own shocked expression stared back at her.
Suppressing sobs, Selina rushed from the bathroom and pushed past people blindly as she made her way toward the exit. She crashed out the front door and ran full tilt down the street back toward the college parking lot where she had left her car.
"Hey! Where are you going?" she heard someone yell after her, but she didn't stop, didn't slow down. She just kept running.
"Do you think she's okay?" Tim asked, worry and curiosity filling his voice. Jason walked over to where Tim was poised, halfway down the sidewalk after Selina.
"I don't know. Just let her go for now," Jason said slowly, coming up and laying a heavy hand on Tim's shoulder.
Tim glanced doubtfully from Jason to Selina's rapidly disappearing figure.
"She is a pre-cog. She might have seen something unsavory. You know the both of us can relate," Jason said with a shrug.
Tim frowned up at Jason, looking back down the street to see Selina turn into the parking lot and disappear behind a building.
"You're right," he said quietly.
Jason looked down at Tim with an unreadable expression for a beat before marshalling his expression into a cocky grin. "Of course I'm right," he replied with a bark of a laugh, shaking Tim out of his thoughts. "As I was saying, I vote for your place. Mine is a fucking mess. I can't imagine anything you have to live within a 100 foot radius is anything less than sparkling clean, so it's yours or a hotel, princess."