December 23
Al left with the full intention of coming right back. Hell, she wasn't about to leave her Squishykins alone, even if the others had gone retarded. But after that little scene, she wasn't in the mood for any company, and she couldn't imagine he wanted to be alone with any of them, especially her. Teasing him was one thing, but even she understood the concept of limits.
So she left. He would be glad of the break, she could take some time to clear her head, and at least one of the others would probably be back, all smiles and apologies, by the time she got tired of wandering.
Then she got sidetracked to a rather extreme degree. That wasn't too surprising. After all, she had made quite a name for herself around town since the day she had…"invited" the Scarecrow to dinner.
For this particular adventure, Al had no one to blame but the squirrels.
It all started in the park. Al was just walking along, admiring the beauty of nature and trying to avoid the gangs of marauding children, when the little brown rat-monster threw itself into her path.
Maybe she was a little too used to skinning critters For The Master in World of Warcraft, because her first instinct was to pick up a stout tree limb and beat the thing senseless.
Which she did, immediately. The squirrel went flying. Tiger Woods couldn't have done better.
At the sound of applause, Al turned to see a young man watching her. She bowed to him with a sardonic grin.
"Darn uppity squirrels need to be taken down a peg or two."
"Feel free to join in," she offered. He shook his head.
"I'd rather just watch the master at work."
Okay…that was a little creepy. She hoped he wasn't after anything more than squirrel bashing. In her experience, strangers approaching her at random were not to be trusted.
Another squirrel stopped to stare at her, and she summarily forgot her new friend.
She couldn't seem to match the success she had achieved with the first squirrel, but the exercise was still therapeutic. Her friends would have been both horrified and amused. Horrified, because they were both so thoroughly opposed to animal cruelty (and so was Al, to tell the truth) and amused, because honestly, no one liked squirrels.
Besides, in light of a certain prophecy about Al's future, she thought she was allowed to get in a few licks.
Not that she really…believed she was destined to die as a bizarre sacrifice to an Aztec god…or that her body would be eaten by squirrels at the base of the temple…or that she would be reincarnated as their squirrely overlord and lead them in the coming war and the inevitable destruction of mankind.
She wasn't the biggest fan of mankind, but it was an undeniable fact that squirrels were evil. The bad kind of evil.
Well, as much fun as rodent golf was, she couldn't keep at it indefinitely. By the time she was ready to quit, she had worked up quite an appetite.
She could have gone back to the lair to eat, but she didn't think there was anything microwaveable on hand, and she wasn't about to ask anyone to cook for her. She was half afraid she might find cyanide in her soup.
It didn't matter, though, because there was a gas station nearby, a good one that had never let her down before.
As she started to leave the park, her audience of one waved at her. She waved back, and cringed inwardly when he started to follow her. He was cute enough, but the very last thing she needed was some kind of stalker. (The irony of that thought was not lost on her.)
"I hope you don't think I'm being too forward, but I was thinking maybe I could get your phone number."
"I don't have a phone." He actually looked disappointed, and she felt compelled to add, "But maybe I'll see you around the park sometime. My name's Al." He grinned.
"Cool name. I'm Kirk."
Oh, God, Kirk? She was going to have to pass this one on to Techie.
Just one more reason to make up as soon as possible. Not only would the two of them make a cute couple, but if they broke up, she might get to hear Techie say the words, "I hate Kirk."
"I'll see you later…Kirk." She left him behind with a slight sigh of relief.
Inside the gas station, no one even bothered to be polite to her. She was much more in her element, surrounded by jackasses. There was the jackass behind the cash register who couldn't count high enough to give her correct change for a single serving of Easy Mac, the jackass who followed her back to the microwave, staring at her bum, the jackass who knocked her out of the way to put his gas can on the counter, right where it didn't belong, and the jackass with the obvious gun bulge under his jacket who passed her in the doorway as she was heading back out to see if she had lost her necklace in the park.
Al ignored the screaming and the sounds of gunshots behind her, keeping her eyes glued to the ground. She loved that necklace, a cute little plastic mummy she had named Clancy, many years ago. But the clasp did have a tendency to break at the oddest moments.
"Clancy? Where are you, buddy?" she murmured, sweeping her eyes back and forth as she walked. Maybe she shouldn't have gotten so carried away with those squirrels.
"Looking for this?" Al looked up to see Kirk standing in front of her, holding her necklace and looking unbearably smug.
"Hey, thanks," she said. He grinned and shook his head.
"Uh-uh, Al, not so fast. If you want it back, you're going to have to do something for me."
Jackass! She glared at him and held out her hand.
"Give me my necklace."
"I'll give it to you over coffee," he teased. She growled. What an insufferable ass! This was not the way to go about getting a date. Granted, she would have shot him down if he had tried conventional means. But she wasn't in the mood to applaud his creativity and initiative.
Those were only acceptable tactics when she used them.
She made a mental note to steal a vital toxin ingredient and hold it hostage until Jonathan gave her a hug. Or maybe she could make him do a little dance…but she could work out the details later.
"Hand it over," Al insisted. Kirk grinned.
"Make me."
Oh…them's fightin' words, boy. You don't know what you've got yourself into.
She tried to snatch Clancy out of his hand. He retaliated by holding it above his head.
Oh, bugger. There were times she hated being short.
"Gimme!" She jumped for it. He laughed and danced away. By now, she was getting frustrated enough to start a game of rodent golf with his head…his head if he was lucky. "Give me my—"
It was then that the gas station exploded.
By now, random explosions had lost their power to startle Al, but she still found herself staring into the towering flames. Such glorious destruction, caused by…by…
Oh, crap. My Easy Mac. I forgot the water again.
Well, she wouldn't tell her friends about this. They'd never let her live it down. They still hadn't forgotten about the last four microwaves she had demolished that way.
"Wow," said Kirk. Al was prepared to dismiss him as a flaming destruction newbie, until he added, in awestruck tones, "Kirena hi."
She stared at him. He spoke Japanese? And he liked fire? Maybe there was more potential there than she had given him credit for.
Too bad she didn't have time to find out more. If she wanted to avoid the cops, she was going to have to haul ass.
"Hai, kirena hi. Now give me my necklace, please. I have to go."
He flashed her a killer puppydog look, the best she had ever seen.
"Do you have to? I have marshmallows."
At that moment, Al reclassified him from "annoying" to "soul mate."
Well, response time in Gotham was pathetically slow. She would have some time to kick around, wouldn't she?
As it turned out, the cops showed up just as they were eating the last of the s'mores.
As the handcuffs closed around her wrists, Al decided that maybe, after all, there was a time when "just one more" piece of chocolate really could hurt.
