Notes: My updates hasn't been regular lately because I'm in a mood. It's one of those 'what am I doing with my life' kind of moods, so please bear with me.

I jumped to my feet at Batman's declaration, ready for another bout with our kidnappers. "Where?"

But the vigilante gave me a look that promptly shot down whatever macho hero instinct I had forming. "You aren't going."

"The hell I'm not." I glared at him. "Like I told you, this is my job and I'm finishing it."

"And if Ra's manages to capture you?"

"Then I'll deal with it. Won't be the first time." I shrugged but kept my glower. "And face it, you need me. There might be more of those manticora helping your guy. A pride of them numbers at least twenty. Think you can handle that many without magic?"

The vigilante studied me for a second then, "Fine. Red Arrow?"

"Jet's idling by the rooftop. I called it while you two were having your spat." The red-haired cape said.

Jet? And all at once, my fears of flying in an overgrown metal bucket came rushing in. "Uhh, you guys go on ahead. I'll catch up."

Night- Dick (I had to remember to differentiate between vigilante identity and civilian identity; hell's bells the problems of working with superheroes.) raised an eyebrow at me. "What happened to all that talk of coming along?"

"It ran off the moment you said you were using a flying death trap."

"Hey, the T-Jet's state-of-the-art tech!" Red Arrow said, affronted.

"That means it's not proof against a wizard of my type." I told him. "The fancier it gets, the faster it goes kablowie."

"How do you travel to other places?"

"Train. Or by car." I shrugged. "The last time I flew commercial the pilot had to delay the landing because of some technical difficulty." I didn't have to mention that it spooked me enough not to try that again. It was one thing to fly alone, and another to have hundreds of other passengers stuck inside a bucket with you. And then there're the security checks who kept hitting their blinking scanners in frustration whenever I came near.

"I see what you mean when you said you blow out fuses." Troia murmured.

"I could fly you..." Superman offered but Batman shook his head.

"You would be too vulnerable flying in the open air."

"How about a trip to Neverland?" Dick suggested but I shot that down.

"It's Nevernever, and it doesn't exactly have a map. I could enter it here, walk a couple of meters, and end up in London for all I know."

"So how were you planning to follow us?" Red Arrow challenged.

"Uh..." Let it be said that bravado in the face of superheroes has a high chance of being popped like a balloon in the next couple of minutes.

Dick came over to pat me on the shoulder. "We'll think of something."

"Yeah, something," I agreed sourly. While it may be true that being a wizard has its perks, most of the time, it's the quirks that leave much to be desired. Having magic adds a lot to my investigative style; and it takes away a lot too. For one, what is this thing you call the Internet? I'm apparently missing out on the biggest party in the world or my worst personal hell. It makes me glad I've got my own lewd version of a computer in Bob.

"So how long is the flight going to be?" I asked no one in particular.

"A couple of hours at the most," Red Arrow answered. "T-Jet's built to be fast."

I made a few power calculations in my head. Normally, a wizard leaks a bit of magic every minute, like people shed dead skin cells. And just like you can trace a person's DNA by getting a hold of these cells, paranormal entities can track down a wizard by the scent of this leaking magic. I knew a spell that would let me put a stopper into the leak for an hour or two; I did it for a talk show once. The spell was more or less successful - but it tended to fray my nerves.

"Alright," I announced to the vigilantes around me, "I can put up a temporary barrier around my magic so I don't blow your flying bucket. But it's only temporary and I can't hold it up long. So," I aimed a pointed look at Dick, who I presumed would do the piloting, "no making me nervous or the bucket will go kablowie."

"Hey, no worries," Red Arrow dropped an arm around Dick's shoulders. "Bats there won't let Wingster do any high-flying, that's for sure."

"There better not be." I grumbled. "I haven't been able to brew more slow-fall potions lately." I pretended not to notice the curious gazes they gave me as I turned around. It wasn't the first time Batman hired me to fashion a magical trinket or two for protection. He hasn't yet asked me to brew potions for him - for which I'm half-glad since I was running low on potion ingredients. Where or how I'll get more depleted uranium I have no idea. So I brought out my chalk and gathered my will.

The spell didn't take long and before half an hour had passed, we were all gathered in the T-Jet. It was big, with a sleek build and a shiny black finish that I'd bet mechanics would shit themselves to see. The door slid open with a silent whoosh; Nightwing and Troia entered first, followed by Superman, Red Arrow and me. I'd just taken a step in when a beep sounded from somewhere to my left.

I immediately backed from the entrance, almost running into Batman. "Sorry."

The vigilante gave me an annoyed glare and trudged past me into the jet. He went straight to a small screen on the left and punched in a few buttons. "Get in."

"I didn't break that, did I?" I asked him, taking a tentative step. When no other beeps sounded, I walked inside.

"I've calibrated the Jet's security to recognize you." He said, before turning on his heel and walking for the cockpit.

" 'Security'?" I repeated, incredulously. "You mean I could've jumped in and been hit by a laser?"

Batman paused to call over his shoulder, "Of course not. An internal laser would risk damaging the jet itself. You would be gassed instead." Then he continued on his way.

"Hell's bells! What did I tell you about not making the wizard nervous?"

This time, Batman didn't bother with a comeback. I took a deep breath and mentally checked on my spell.

It felt like being stuck inside a bubble. I could still hear and see everything, but I had a pillowcase over my head so what comes through was less intense, less clear. I figured it was because I'd kept my magic 'feelers' to myself and so couldn't feel the juju that surrounds everything. And if I reached out, I'd break my bubble. It was a strain, keeping this bubble. It felt the same as when I'd been running on zero sleep for three days straight, and my attention was about the same.

"Are you alright?" Troia asked me from the doorway where Batman had disappeared. Since that was where everyone went, I can only assume that way led to the cockpit. "You look a little pale."

"Fine," I grumbled, deciding not to elaborate on that. I had the idea that the Amazon was a mothering type - she kept looking at my scrawny self in concern - and I'd always been uncomfortable with involving strangers into my world, especially capes. These people stood by a code that involved more than upholding the law; they were world renowned heroes. Kids look up to these people. And me? I've stolen things, beat up people...I've killed. I'm the kind of person heroes shouldn't be on friendly terms with; much less be trusted with. In my world, there are monsters who'd love to break a hero like these people.

"Come on, then," Troia's voice brought me out of my dark thoughts. She smiled and tilted her head towards the cockpit. "Everyone's waiting."

I nodded and followed her, passing sleek walls of metal and whatever doohickeys are built in them. Thankfully, none of them sparked when I went through.

The space I entered was at the same time large and cramped. I had room to stand at my full height, but everywhere I looked something beeped or blinked. There were six seats in the middle and none of them were far enough away from any machinery that might go boom. All at once, I could feel my heartbeat speed up at the proximity of all the beeping things.

"You can take the seat at the back and to your left." Batman ordered without turning around. He and Nightwing were at the front - I took that to mean they were pilot and co-pilot. A glance around revealed I was the only one standing so I guess he meant me.

"Uhh, while I may have a spell to keep my magic on lockdown," I said, not moving to take the seat, "it's not the strongest. I still might make your computers smoke like there's no tomorrow."

"That section holds the autopilot." The vigilante explained. "Nightwing and I can fly the jet together or by ourselves. We can risk disengaging the autopilot."

"Uh..."

"Don't worry, Harry," Nightwing gave me a grin over his shoulder. "Between me and Batman, we've got enough experience to fly almost any ship. Even alien ones." He said the last with a laugh, and I guess that was supposed to make me feel better but it only hammered home the fact that what the capes face every day was a lot different than mine.

I took the seat gingerly, telling myself that while capes can take the high ground, I take the inter-dimensional route. Thank goodness for the Nevernever - even though most of the time it keeps spewing out the monsters that went after my ass. Still, taking just fifteen minutes to get from Chicago to Scotland beats a travel time of more than seven hours.

"So, Bats says you're a professional wizard," Red Arrow turned in his seat to face me, elbows on his knees, "The only professional wizard in Chicago."

"That's what the phonebook says." I answered.

"You advertise in the phonebook?" Superman similarly turned, his voice surprised. "I had the idea wizards were secretive."

"That would be most of the old-timers. Nowadays..." I shrugged, "I had to make a living. Being a wizard's the only thing I'm good at."

"How long have you been a wizard?"

"My magic manifested when I was eleven. Another wizard adopted me and started training me since then."

Superman's eyebrow rose in surprise. "You were adopted?"

"My mom died when I was born. My dad followed six years later." I gave him a look that didn't once meet his eyes. "I thought all this personal stuff was supposed to be in Batman's files?"

"They are." The vigilante in question growled in annoyance. "Not everyone bothers to read through them regularly."

"Meeting Harry was rather abrupt." Superman conceded with an apologetic smile. "And I was curious."

"You and me both, Supes." Red Arrow agreed.

"So Harry, what's it like being a wizard investigator?" Superman asked.

"It's like being an investigator, only I've got a unique style of finding things, people," I made a vague gesture then realized what I was doing and aimed a suspicious look back at the World's Mightiest Mortal. "Hell's bells, you're a reporter, aren't you?"

Immediately, my interviewer became guarded. "What makes you say that?"

"No one can be that nosy over the age of ten, unless you're a reporter."

A corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Nosy?"

"Hey, my ex-girlfriend's a journalist. I had to learn how to dodge questions the hard way."

"He's got you there, Supes." Nightwing called back.

"Alright, I'll lay off on the questions," Superman laughed. I decided that I liked that laugh. It was booming and heartfelt, and contagious. Something around my chest eased and I felt myself relaxing a bit.

And the panel to my left gave off a spark.

"Sorry," I mumbled, trying to scoot away and to my surprise, my chair moved with me. "Hell's bells!"

"Mobile seating," Red Arrow said, laughing, "Helps when you've got a lot of civilians and don't know where to put them."

"You could've warned a guy." I grumbled, moving my seat back in its original position.

The rest of the trip was spent in mostly silence and relative peace for me as well as the jet; allowing me to drop into a somewhat meditative state to maintain the spell. I could hear the others talking in lower voices but didn't bother listening in; they must have heeded my warning and did their best not to disturb me. It was a wonderful couple of hours' worth of bliss, broken only when Batman announced, "We're almost there."