And now a public-service announcement from Matt the Batman Fan. . .
Salutations all, lads and lasses! Yeah, just when I think I'm out of the holiday story business my dozens and dozens of fans just pull me back right in. However, unlike the smattering of somewhat connected tales that made up The Twelve Days of Misfits, this one is not connected to anything in particular as far as Misfits canon is concerned. In fact, this thing is flat out insane. I wouldn't bother reading it if I were you and I'm not really certain if I should have written it but it's here and it's ridiculous and it's an honest labor of love and affection devoted to those who have followed this thing the most. So. . . to Ryan, Rachel, Shawn, Wolvmbm, Protector of Canon2, Spirit Hellfire, Captain Deadpool, DC Luder, Andrew Joshua Talon, and all the rest. Thank you, thank you, and thank you.
Chapter Thirteen
Cataclysmic Christmas Crossovers
The snow continued to trickle down in its slow, almost whimsical manner onto the expansive grounds of Wayne Manor. A sharp gale of winter wind added to the clamor, the wind briefly skittered against the stern brick and strong glass before seeking more advantageous routes of travel. Still, the commotion brought about by the escaping draft easily intermingled with the sounds of children, both young and old, taking what time and enjoyment they could out of the state of affairs bequeathed to them by Mother Nature. Cecilia, Roy, and Stephanie were engaging in a snowball fight, of course, the loudest members of the makeshift family more than happy to carry out their haphazard traditions with little caring towards establishing any rules or codes of conduct. Linda Park-West, pleased to be finished with the minor rigors of cobbling together a holiday-themed column for The Gotham Times, chose to look on quietly as her husband and their two children busied themselves with making a snowman (well, admittedly Wally made the snowman while simultaneously keeping the little ones from falling down in the snow but she was willing to give them credit nevertheless). Kara and Lloyd were snuggling, ensconced within a nearby snow bank as the couple enjoyed the splendors of a Gotham winter in their own fashion while unconsciously daring any of their friends and loved ones to interrupt the peaceful tableau.
Meanwhile, back inside, another couple was finding their own way to celebrate the arrival of the Christmas holiday. It was a makeshift attempt to be sure, the errors and stops and interruptions quite typical of a first romantic encounter but the pleasure drawn from such mistakes was also there as well, the gasps, groans, and chuckles just as much a part of the world around them as the smell of their sweat and the slight creak of the bedsprings. Bruce had stopped counting the days during which a part of his mind had waited for this moment in time, the tally becoming so vast and dismal that his subconscious had begun to settle for weeks, months and years. Given his lifetime spent deducing and assuming, he couldn't help but wonder if the woman writhing beneath him, her smooth skin sliding against his rougher frame, had kept a similar record but the feeling of fingernails skimming across his abdomen before digging briefly into his hindquarters quickly brought such troubling thoughts to rest. His lips are quick to their business, his mouth moving to claim his partner's neck, her collarbone, and the spot just above her left breast.
"Nice to see that I've broken you out of your distraction," Bruce's soon-to-be lover replied, her head resting against the pillow in such a manner that her brown locks were lifted up to surround her long, angular face. A wry smile slid across her face as she took in Bruce's shy demeanor, the little part of the billionaire socialite and dark soldier of the night that managed to eke its way through every now and again and make her fall in love all over again.
"I'm sorry," he quickly replied, the momentary disruption mixing with a mild hint of self-directed annoyance that made the short response sound curt but almost reverent. He almost hated himself for talking like that but the feeling of her fingertips grazing across his cheek allowed him to surrender, to take comfort in the understanding in the eyes of the woman he knew he could love.
"I'm a little scared too," she finally confessed, the potentially shameful words prompting her to briefly chew on her lower lip. "But we're both here. We don't have to go anywhere we don't want to."
The unadulterated caring was enough for The Batman, his athletic physique seemingly renewed with a newfound purpose as he claimed her lips again. He treasured the quick, high-pitched whimpers wafting against his ear while a tiny hand reached for the waistband of his dress slacks before fumbling against the silk boxers underneath.
"Eleanor. . ." he whispered.
Wayne Manor
"What the hell?"
Bruce Wayne couldn't help but be a bit blind to the world around him as his eyes snapped open, his deep, blue irises busily adjusting themselves to the sudden lack of light. His senses quickly registered the glint of the morning sun trying in vain to breach through the drapes around his windows, the slightest residue of the winter winds outside briefly rattling against his toes as he rolled onto his right side. Bringing his left hand upward to scratch at an itch that had been building up along his torso, the man behind The Dark Knight of Gotham City slowly shook his head back and forth while trying to work over what could have possibly brought on a dream like that.
Was it something he should talk to someone about? Well, somebody other than Selina, of course, who would doubtlessly attempt to employ his testicles as the base for a new diamond-studded necklace if he ever confessed to such an unwilling infidelity. . .
SNAP!
The sound of thumbnail-sized gears grinding together due to a push of a button brought him back to full attention, just in time to be blinded by the light shining just eight feet in front of his face. Throwing his brawny hands up in an instinctual measure of self-defense, he subsequently allowed himself to look even more foolish as the light eventually died away, the whirring noise that followed almost completely drowned out by a deep chortle that was just on this side of sinister. Immediately on his guard, the master detective turned to the foot of his bed to acknowledge his intruder with a fearsome glare, a fierce and defiant counter that he soon found he needed to adjust by looking downward in order to lock eyes with what was a truly fearsome foe.
Well, to be fair, she didn't look like someone who could inspire fear and terror. In fact, the girl's attire, consisting of a white, pink, and black shirt-and-skirt set that hemmed out just below her tiny knees, made the already diminutive figure look downright childish. Her wide, brown eyes and long, black hair, the majority of strands prevented from falling below her shoulders thanks to a pair of butterfly hair clips, only added to the not-so-subtle veil that the teenager had constructed for herself, the self-appointed guilt brought about by an unkind pubescent period obviously prompting her to appear weak and childish. Of course, only a moment was needed to peer at the darkly erudite glint that ran through the girl's eyes to recognize that she was anything but, the twist of her little lips a strong clue that she knew she had the advantage and was not afraid of exploiting it.
"This is a camera, right?" The question finally came, the cheeriness infused within the inquiry almost forcing Bruce to clench his teeth in response. "Well, I'm not sure where I am right now but I do know a spoiled rich boy when I see one. Especially when there's an opportunity to get money from them."
Bruce blinked at the mischievous presence, his strong mind still not enough to throw off his confusion. Finally feeling the weight on his right, he turned to meet the presence of something that was not Selina or whoever Eleanor may have been or indeed anything else he would ever remotely want to have at his bedside. After all, if the doll's enormous size and its patchwork body consisting of a variety of equally repulsive brown-colored fabrics wasn't displeasing enough, the sight of the thing's eyes, a pair of revolting glass, circular structures painted with a variety of reds, greens, and black swirls almost made him want to spring from his once-private divan in quite the undignified manner. However, the opportunistic grin on the mystery girl's face was enough to keep him rooted to the spot, a maximum-level Batglare quickly summoned to meet her confident countenance.
"Who are you?"
The girl responded with a cheery, melodramatic one-handed wave, a clear sign that the youth was not the least bit intimidated. "Well, I'm Anise Tatlin," she happily replied. "And that doll whose feel you've been copping for the last couple minutes is Tokunaga. I usually only use him for fighting but if it's one thing I've learned from working in the military is that you should always try to use your tools of your trade to make your life a little easier."
Bruce offered the previously mentioned Tokunaga a rather doleful glare (which thankfully went unreturned) before moving to the true threat. "Look, young lady," he said crossly before rising to his feet. "I don't know who you are but I'm not about to be blackmailed for something this ridiculous," he went on while rising from his bedchambers and stooping to pick up his dressing gown, the strength he had infused within his argument enough for him to miss the sight of Anise taking a rather intrigued look at his backside. "Now, if you truly don't know where you are then I can find some people that can get you to where you need to be. . ."
"Oooooh, I think I know where I need to be," the 15-year-old girl interrupted while all but skipping forward, her less than five-foot-frame allowing her to easily sneak her tiny hands past the folds of Bruce's robe and tickle at his stomach. "In fact, maybe I can be convinced to do away with these little photos of mine if you show me all the stuff you're going to buy me when we go out tonight." The shock and dismay she was looking for was quick and coming and she was more than happy to receive it as she shut her eyes while gaily swishing her head back to and fro, her long mane of black hair following her as she capered about. "Ha ha! I always wanted to own a huge place like this!"
82 seconds later
"PUT ME DOWN, YOU SIMPLE-MINDED MORON!" Anise screamed as she continued to flail about. "YOU'D BE LUCKY TO EVEN HAVE THE CHANCE TO GO OUT WITH ME! I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS! YOU'VE GOT TO SLEEP SOMETIME! BOO! BOOOOOOO! HOW DARE YOU TREAT SOMEBODY WHO'S LOST LIKE THIS! I WANT MONEY FOR MY EMOTIONAL DISTRESS!"
Every pair of eyes that resided in the Wayne Manor kitchen turned around to see the profoundly peculiar sight of the master of the home stomping in, his strong hands momentarily encumbered with the task of hefting a 90-pound girl out his bedroom, down the long flight of stairs, before finally managing to lug the squirming youth into the expansive dining area as if she were a decidedly unwanted trash bag full of supremely dirty clothes. The girl let out a loud "UWAAH!" as Bruce unceremoniously dropped her to the floor, the surprised noise of discomfort almost bringing a smile to the man's otherwise stern appearance as he continued to loom over his former aggressor.
"Ah, so there's our other guest," Lloyd said simply, his hazel eyes briefly drifting up above the rim of his paper. "So how are you this fine Christmas Eve mornin', boss?"
Bruce struggled to quell what he sincerely believed to be a potential aneurysm (a frequent occurrence for him over the past several years, he couldn't help but note). "You mean to tell me you knew this girl was here?!" he seethed to his second-in-command before another thought quickly began to register. "And what is this about other guests?"
A startled squeak roused Bruce's attention as an unfamiliar head of long, blonde hair suddenly caught his attention, the owner of said curls slowly tilting away from the busy stove before meeting his suspicious glower. Nearly startled by the bright twinkle in the girl's sea-green eyes, he could only keep just a bit of an eye on Anise as the other unfamiliar presence gave him a kindly smile, doubtlessly employed as some means to disarm his suspicions as far as his paranoid mind was concerned. Of course, he couldn't help but find that the "trick" was working quite well as the girl said a quick hello before rounding the cluttered island in the middle of the kitchen and making her way towards him. However, the little legs on her 5'3" frame failed to successfully navigate her way through the small forest of chair and table limbs and she briefly stumbled before the slick surface of her shoes and the linoleum floor caused her to fall face-first to the floor, her awkward display drawing a round of gasps and winces.
"Oh, my. I hope you're all right, young lady," Alfred said while assisting Wally with bringing the girl back to her feet, his eye briefly catching the flickering lights of the clock to his left. "How peculiar. The repairman had assured me that the stove was beyond repair."
"Oops. Sorry about that," the fair-haired visitor began rather sheepishly while brushing some imaginary dust off of her white and aqua dress robe. "Hi. I'm Colette Brunel," she then added with unabashed eagerness, her dainty, right hand quickly extending forward.
Bruce, in response, took a second or two to look down at the girl's hand, evaluated what he should make of the situation, and looked back up without even bothering to return the gesture. "I suppose I should have asked Saint Nicholas for a more efficient team of super heroes this holiday season."
"Oh, don't worry about it, Mister Wayne," Kara said in her usual placating manner, her lips twisting into a bit of a sympathetic frown as Colette slowly pulled her hand back. "Colette just told us that she has no idea how she got here and Lloyd got the same thing from the other one so we've already got our expert on the horn."
"I am so sorry for being a nuisance," Colette earnestly followed up, the act of contrition seemingly slight but the forgiving look in the girl's emerald eyes made it seem quite significant. "And thank you so much for allowing me into your home. . ."
"Do I dare ask why the lot of you seem to be calmly enjoying breakfast while the world itself may be in peril?" asked Bruce.
"Oh! That was my idea!" Colette exclaimed, her jovial reply making even Stephanie realize that the girl was fighting a losing battle. "I figured it was the least I could do for all of you, seeing as how you're helping me get back home." The eager girl then brought her lightly clenched fists upward so that her knuckles were just inches above her chin. "Just consider it my way of trying to make some new friends! Besides, if it's one thing that Professor Sage taught me," she added while rocking her arms up and down excitedly, as if becoming Bruce Wayne's friend had suddenly become her paramount mission in life. "It's that no matter what you have to face in the day, it's always smart to get a good start!"
"Well said, Miss Colette," Alfred replied, the aged manservant clearly encouraged by the rare exhibition of good manners in the home he had looked after for nearly four decades. "Perhaps it would behoove some of the less affable members of this household to follow your kindly example."
The pointed words invoked a variety of reactions from Clan Misfit. Stephanie, of course, let out a barely stifled grumble while Kara, Linda, and Wally shared a brief round of mutual chortling. Bruce, to his credit, spent a moment or two giving his butler as stern of a glare as Alfred would allow him before finally moving to his usual place at the table, his quick concession causing the former Interpol agent to reply with a knowing grin. Meanwhile, Colette took a moment to overcome her embarrassment over being in the spotlight before returning to her willing duties, her small feet shuffling her back to the growing pile of pans and griddles as Lloyd used his telekinesis to make certain that there wasn't anything to trip her up on the way.
So all was relatively well, at least until Anise finally picked herself up off the ground and chose to take a seat as well. And, as our twisted fate would have it, she chose to perch herself upon the stool sitting next to Stephanie's usual spot on the island. Soft but noticeably sharp gasps leaked from the lips of many of those in the kitchen for reasons that no member of the concerned party could quite understand. Several seconds passed as the dreadful awareness that something was potentially about to go horribly wrong seemed to spread throughout the room like an oily mildew, the thickness of it impossible to ignore unless your name was either Anise Tatlin or Stephanie Brown.
"Okay, so who the hell are you?" Stephanie began rather sourly, the hostile words that the girl had for Bruce still fresh in Robin's mind as her lips quirked to one side while regarding the unwanted presence.
"The name is Anise Tatlin." To her credit, the youngest ever graduate of The Grand Chokmah Military Academy seemed equally ready to be hostile as she ceased drumming her fingers against the nearby wooden table. "And this day has blown enough donkeys already so how about you either be nice to me or shut your cakehole and let me have my breakfast."
"And who says you should get any of this free grub?" Stephanie offered back in an equally smarmy manner, her tone bolstered by the cross flash that shined over Anise's eyes. "'Cause I don't know how it is on whatever dirtball you came from but, around here, we work for what we eat."
"Really?" Anise asked back while batting her eyes back in an overly coquettish manner. "And here I was under the impression that this butler guy did all the cooking," she added with a cheery tartness that caused Stephanie to grit her teeth. "Does he pick your toys up off the floor and clean your diapers too?"
"Now you listen here, you obnoxious little fuffball," Stephanie snapped back while rising to her feet. "I've been protecting this planet from baddies who have chunks in their stool that are bigger than you!"
"Oh yeah? Well, let me tell you that I've saved my world too! My magic is so good that it would make your little blonde head explooooooode with wonder!" Anise exclaimed while raising her arms and shaking her small hands back and forth in a showy display designed to further infuriate her voluble opponent.
"Is that right?" Stephanie asked in a rather baleful manner while stooping down to pat her adversary on her head, the flare of anger that came about in response almost making it seem like a small wonder that Anise hadn't tried to bite Stephanie's fingers off. "So apparently your reality doesn't have height requirements when it comes to saviors? That is just so cuuuuuute."
"I'm. . . still. . . developing!!" Anise shouted back, the pauses between her words brought about as she moved to stand on top of her chair in an attempt to tower over her foe. "And I'll have breasts as big as yours when I grow up!"
"Yeah, that there's a challenge," Roy couldn't help but snort out before the spectral image of a boxing glove knocked him off of his chair and onto his ass. He only had a handful of seconds to recover from his startled shock of pain before being introduced to another fresh form of agony via the dinner plate Anise flung at his head, the meeting of glass on skull causing the marksman to momentarily reconsider his status as a relatively sane individual.
"Takin' one for the team, huh, buddy?" Wally asked, the speed merchant shaking his head back and forth while helping his friend back to his wobbly feet. "And why am I helping everybody up today?"
"Well, we're both quite the givers," Roy woozily mumbled back while being steered back to his seat, his two attackers calmly turning away from him while Kara and Lloyd inspected him for any lasting damage. It was only seconds after Kara gave him a relatively clean bill of health when the ever-growing group was approached by their next distraction, this one in the form of Earth's preeminent guardian of all things magic.
"Oh, thank goodness that you've managed to keep them safe," Billy Batson shouted out before letting out a deep sigh of relief. As one would expect, the boyish immortal was looking just as fresh-faced and worthy of a Rockwell painting as he usually did, his black hair fashioned back in its familiar "duck's ass" style. "Everyone, I apologize for intruding upon your celebration of the holidays but we have a potential crisis on our. . ."
Whatever other words the former Captain Marvel was about to deliver were quickly drowned out by the gales of ensuing laughter rising from the lips of nearly everyone in the kitchen. Although Bruce managed to merely turn his head and look chagrined, Anise and Stephanie had to hold on to one another to prevent them from falling off their chairs in the midst of their merriment.
"What is so funny?" Batson asked tiredly, the wisdom of Solomon more than enough for him to already know the answer to his own question.
"Nice jumper, Billy Boy," Lloyd answered, the half-demon holding back a snigger as Kara buried her face in his neck. "'Specially like the 'ittle, red nose."
Batson let out a quiet groan while allowing the others to further take in his atrociously tacky sweater, a green monstrosity of weaving with the badly knitted face of Rudolph (complete with the furry red nose that stuck out just below his chest) goofily smiling without a hint of mercy toward its wearer. "Mary wanted me to wear it," he explained with as much patience as he could muster in the face of his own embarrassment. "And perhaps some of you might be interested in learning why these two ladies just happened to show up at your home?"
"When we're done laughin' at you, I suppose," Lloyd offered in reply, his words triggering another round of titters from Cecilia and Wally but also earning him a deserved poke to the head courtesy of his girlfriend.
"That's enough, children," admonished Linda Park-West while performing similar disciplinary measures to her husband, the requisite den mother of Wayne Manor quick to bring the rowdy crowd to some façade of order. "Go on, William."
Batson gave a grateful nod to Linda before continuing on. "It appears that Miss Brunel and Miss Tatlin were brought to our reality through a momentary destabilization of our temporal boundaries. I am doing what I can to determine both the source and the trigger of the disruption but the quick sealing of those gaps lead me to believe that the gesture was not deliberate."
"Well, the things that end up destroying the world usually aren't," Kara pointed out while pulling her face away from the crook of Lloyd's neck (much to The Black Dog's chagrin). "I don't suppose that this just couldn't be our karmic penalty for flying around in long underwear for most of the past year."
"Hey! I like my outfit!" Cecilia barked out in protest, the archer's noisy defiance managing to slightly muffle the panicked footsteps of Noah Kuttler as he all but skidded into the room, the soles of the hacker's dress shoes just slick enough for him to nearly bang his head against the pots hanging from an overhead rack. "And I'm guessing you're not here to greet our guests, C.C.?" the archer asked.
The Calculator took a moment to catch his breath, the lanky, bespectacled fellow spreading his long arms out wide in order to further center himself. "I just got a distress call from Professor Magnus. It appears that his latest upgrade of his Metal Men have caused them to go out of control!"
"Again?!" Cecilia and Lloyd simultaneously blurted out, the two occasional patrol partners then exchanging a familiar look and allowing somebody else the chance to retake the floor.
"The Rock of Eternity did pick up a spike of transdimensional interference stemming from Magnus's lab," Batson threw in, his nearly peerless mind already putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "It was hardly substantial enough to provide legitimate proof at the time, particularly with the refuse influx left behind after Krona's escape from The Worldview. . ."
"But it's still a possibility," Batman finished, the small, casual portions of Bruce Wayne that somehow managed to remain after the stress from earlier quickly making way for The Dark Knight. "Black Dog, Zor-el, Flash and Arsenal will come with me to investigate. Black Dog, get in touch with Nigel Thornton in order to provide some backing here in case this is some kind of setup."
"Will do, boss," Lloyd quickly replied while rising to his feet. "Fat arse was expectin' me in a few hours anyway and ya know he'll appreciate the free grub," he hypothesized before teleporting away.
"Hey! What about me, Admiral Angst!" Robin squawked in defiance. "You're not just gonna leave me behind, are ya?" she asked, the urge to snarl back at Anise's soft, self-serving laughter almost too much for her to ignore.
"You'll be following us wih Anise and Colette," Batman bit out quickly, his sharp but gloomy tone clearly not warranting any more unnecessary questions. "If this is related to them then it would be best to keep them close at hand."
"Agreed," Batson quickly added. "I will contact all of you the moment I have found a solution to this crisis."
The Misfits were on the move at the beckoning of some unspoken signal, the odd grace of longtime soldiers spurring them through the barely planned motions. Even Anise found herself caught up in it, the diminutive magician keeping her eyes on her former adversary while patiently awaiting her instructions, a decade spent training for war momentarily keeping her more scurrilous side aside. In fact, it only took five seconds for the kitchen of Wayne Manor to be emptied out to the point where only two people remained, one who had long grown accustomed to this particular lot in life and one fumbling over their fingers while searching for the right words to say.
"Um, I'm really sorry that I prepared all this food," Colette said sheepishly, the last Chosen of Regeneration nervously bringing her left hand back behind her head to scratch at an imaginary itch. "If you want, you can just leave the dishes and I can clean them if I come back. I really want to do something for taking me in. . ."
"That's quite all right, Lady Colette," Alfred politely declined, the affability in his voice quickly putting the girl's anxious mind at ease. "However, I would like to make one recommendation if I may?"
"Yes?"
"Please do what you can to remain in this reality. Perhaps by allowing Miss Stephanie to take your place in wherever it is you came from?"
"HEY! I heard that, Alfie!" the aforementioned Miss Stephanie bellowed while flying back to the kitchen in order to swoop Colette into her arms. The younger blonde-haired lady let out another startled gasp as she find herself flying through the air on the way to her next apparent destination while the good Mister Pennyworth was left to clean up shop.
The Rocky Mountains – 52.7 miles east-southeast of Boulder, Colorado
The combination of The Flash's unparalleled foot speed and the potential light speed travels of Kara, Lloyd, and Stephanie made for a quick trip across much of America's mainland, the near 3,000 mile trip completed in only a handful of minutes. The others, however, were left to the tender mercies of those who could keep pace as Batman was carried forth by Lloyd's telekinesis, Anise and Colette were ferried in one of Stephanie's force bubbles and Roy was left to be carried by Kara. The smell of burnt oak trees and typical winter underbrush hung strong in Kara's nostrils as plumes of smoke rose from the area surrounding Magnus's lab. Despite the destruction outside, the iron and stone bunker-like structure still remained mostly intact but the bright-red flames slowly surrounding the outer connections of a nearby hydroelectric conductor provided a strong clue that it may not stay that way for long.
"Quit laying on me like that!" Kara impatiently exclaimed while lightly burying her right elbow into Arsenal's ribcage. "I'm not a couch!"
"Hey! I was just making sure I didn't touch anything!" Roy said defensively while rolling back onto his chest. "I mean, it's not like we both haven't seen your manic-possessive boyfriend in action."
"Boss, there's something wonky about this batch of Metal Men," The Black Dog wisely broke in through the comm. link, his brow furrowing at the odd energy patterns he was picking up from below. "And I'm not just talkin' about the usual sudden urge to kill everyone and everything bit either."
"He's right on that one," The Flash confirmed, his own connection allowing him to follow up on the conversation taking place 500 feet above him. "Better get down here as quick as you can."
"All right! It's fight time!" Anise enthused while hopping up to her feet from her previous seated position. "'Bout time too 'cause I'm bursting with fonons!"
"Formation 5C," Batman began, his instinctual desire to be in control of bringing chaos to a stop quickly spurring him to action. "Keep the battle in close but make certain that nothing gets away. C.C. bought us ten minutes with the local fire department so we've got ourselves a bit of breathing room but no taking chances."
"Right," Kara, Lloyd, and Roy, the first and the third of that trio descending in order to carry out the first part of their orders.
"5C?!" Stephanie broke in before Bruce and Lloyd could follow their comrades. "But I don't know that attack formation!"
"You're staying up here to watch over our visitors," Batman said sternly. "Do not engage the Metal Men under any circumstances."
"BOO!" Anise and Stephanie both shouted out in response to Bruce and Lloyd's backs, the shared exclamation causing the girls to look at each other suspiciously.
"Good luck!" Colette shouted with a mixture of worry and hope for good fortune, her gesture so baldly genuine that it made the other two ladies roll their eyes in annoyance.
"Goody too shoes," muttered Anise.
"Pollyanna," added Stephanie.
It took three seconds for Batman and The Black Dog to hurtle their way into the battleground, the pair of raven-haired, veteran vigilantes ready for whatever fate had in store for them. Granted, perhaps they were not entirely prepared for the sight of Roy Harper rolling on the ground while wrapped in what appeared to be an uncontrollable paroxysm of laughter but such startling events must be expected when endlessly pursuing justice.
"Get up, you fool!" Batman roared while stomping over to all but drag the former Teen Titan back to his feet, the humor Harper found in the current situation clearly not being shared by Gotham's greatest champion.
"Oh, bloody, buggerin' hell," Lloyd could only mumble as he suddenly found himself surrounded by three robotic duplicates of a woman who had become increasingly familiar in his life. "You know, there were times in my life when I cried myself to sleep dreamin' of somethin' like this."
"You will no longer interfere with my quest to win the heart of my beloved," the three Talia Al-Ghuls all said as one, the automated facsimiles of The Daughter of The Demon's Head all looking quite focused on ripping Lloyd limb-from-limb. "You shall never have the heart and soul that I have long staked claim upon!"
Finding himself momentarily unable to get his lips to work, Lloyd allowed his blade to provide an appropriate response. Leaping over the array of fists, feet, and surprisingly realistic looking breasts, the half-demon quickly teleported back down to the ground with his supernaturally powered saber at the ready. The first went down quickly with a quick stab to the gut that developed into a rightside lash that split the robot in two awkward pieces while the second's quick, right cross was countered by a leftward spin and a circular lash that claimed his attacker's head. "Wow, you are soooooo barking up the wrong tree with this one," he finally managed to get out while moving to pry the hands of the third robot away from his throat.
"Well, it would explain a lot of the whole hero worship thing you've got going on," Arsenal merrily offered before finding himself set upon by another bizarrely fashioned Metal Man. Turning his backward cartwheel into a downward tuck before rolling to his left, the sharpshooter quickly put four bullets straight into his attacker. "Hey, doesn't this one look like the chica who played Chun-Li in that god awful Legend of Chun-Li flick?" Roy asked no one in particular before replacing his usual revolver with something more appropriate. "God, I hated that movie!" he added before firing a specially-fashioned HE round from his handy-dandy hand cannon, the explosive spray of bullets punching through the cyborg's face before the ensuing explosion blew the robot's head clean off.
"If she's Lana Lang then I'm Bruce Springsteen."
Usually comfortable with quickly searching for his newest target, Green Arrow's former understudy found himself suddenly needing a moment to stop and think.
"Huh. I have no idea where that one came from."
One might think that Batman was taking quite the unnecessary chance as he broke into a full run, his long strides seemingly making him an easy target for the far faster and stronger opponents moving to surround him. Of course, his many years in the Justice League also managed to give Bruce Wayne enough security to realize that he was safe as he could be. There was no deterrence in him as a brief spray of plasma fire broke up the clods of dirt just in front of his feet, his boots easily stomping through the uneven ground without the slightest threat of a stagger or stumble.
"Wo Sie denken, sie tun?!" shouted a pair of wrinkled automatons who appeared to be carrying enormous handbags stuffed with inconsequential receipts and other unnecessary carryovers of life. "Es war ein Verkauf auf diejenigen Sardellen!" they managed to get out before the blur that was Kara Zor-el sent both robots crashing into a nearby tree.
"Don't you think you're going to get rid of us that easily!" another round of voices warned from Bruce's left, the trio of oddly-designed machines traveling at what were clearly unsafe rates of speed considering the fact that they all appeared to be confined to a wheel chair. "We've spent 15 years trying to find ways to replace you as the most depressing person in Gotham and now we're finally going to do it!"
Batman could just make out the hatch of a miniature missile launcher sliding open from one of the automaton's wheelchairs but still he did not change course. Just as he expected, a haze of scarlet soon assured his safety by rushing in front of the duplicates of Barbara Gordon and throwing off their targeting systems, the hasty distraction giving The Fastest Man Alive more than enough time to follow up and work on disassembling the cyborgs with his super-fast punches.
"You know, there's a slightly evil part of me that's really enjoying this," Wally confessed while putting a hurt on the last red-headed robot standing, the expression on the cyborg's face looking quite unsympathetic even as it was being pounded off its metallic skull.
Wally's diligence continued to go on ignored as Batman quickly crossed the gap between the point of his latest rescue and the entrance to the laboratory, his knees easily weathering the new kind of pressure as his feet began to stomp across steel rather than soil. The light from the outside quickly began to fade as he continued to move inward, the reserve track lighting providing just a shade of available vision space that ultimately encouraged him to bring the infrared lenses installed within his cowl into play. This decision, however, would ultimately lead to a new discovery as another Metal Man stood waiting for him by the first floor stairwell, this one somehow managing to look even more disturbing than the ones he had bore witness to so far. The creation's small stature and eerily familiar shock of black hair only played a small, traumatic note compared to the poorly designed Robin costume draped over the automaton, the wide, green mask and yellow-and-black cape somehow appearing spectacularly horrible to Bruce even as he couldn't figure out why.
"Father!" the boyish creation exclaimed, his one-word introduction causing even Batman to stop in his tracks. "Do you see what I've done in order to win your favor? Now will you let Mother and I stay with you in your mansion? I deserve to have a full family!"
To say that Bruce was merely speechless would be the grossest of understatements. Unfortunately, his silence was hardly the reaction that the boy was looking for and the imploring look in its eyes quickly transformed into barely controlled outrage before ultimately shifting into an out-and-out temper tantrum that spread quickly throughout the young man's spasmodically moving limbs.
"Why can't you understand that I should be Robin?" it pleaded, the tinker toy seemingly seconds away from hopping up-and-down like a five-year-old denied of a lollipop at the grocery store. "I am your true, biological heir! What do I have to do to prove that I'm better than Tim?!"
Batman found himself taking an involuntary step backward as "Robin" switched approaches once again, this time turning to bargaining. "Should I beat him senseless again? Would you like me to run some more ambulances off the road?" The boy's eyes continued to widen with misguided innocence as his legs moved the rest of him forward until he was only inches away from his supposed father. "I can cut off the head of one of your greatest enemies," he offered softly. "Whose head do you want me to cut off?"
Batman wisely didn't bother to pay a great deal of attention to the pout that surfaced on the robot's face only moments after he buried an explosive Batarang straight into the bridge of the robot's skull. Likewise, he chose not to turn around and risk being blinded by the spray of shrapnel that sprung into the air after the robot's violent explosion, the heat of the C-4 quickly melting the cheaply made Robin costume (as far as Batman was concerned) off the blatantly tacky machination.
"Another reminder of why I should never have children," Batman couldn't help but note as he rushed down the nearby stairwell.
Colette was as content as a clam in sand as she continued to watch the battle below, the mystic energy of her Cruxis crystal enhancing her vision and enabling her to easily catch the sights even from such an extensive distance. She had been delighted to see that her newfound friends didn't appear to be having trouble with their weird looking foes and so her worry quickly transformed into wonder as she continued to examine the proceedings, the young Sylvaranti astounded by the amazing powers of Kara, Lloyd, and Wally. Her excitement soon prompted her to stoop down until she could fall onto her belly, thus making herself more comfortable on Robin's forcefield and allowing her to watch the battle while kicking her legs up and down, a child watching a storybook come to life before her eager eyes.
"Ooh, I wish you could see all of this as well as I can, Anise," Colette finally said. "It's so much fun!"
"That's nice," Anise edgily answered, the smaller of the two young women not looking nearly as comfortable. "Damn it. And here I thought I'd never actually miss hearing Luke being all emo," she then whispered to herself, unable to know that Colette's enhanced hearing easily picked it up.
"Oh no!" Colette exclaimed as her hands fluttered up in front of her lips. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"
"No, I'm not afraid," Anise said resolutely, her stubborn tone quite typical of a teen who wasn't about to admit that they weren't up for doing something. "It's the whole falling from that height and getting turned into a human pancake that I'm a little worried about."
Anise's nervousness quickly prompted Colette to climb back onto her feet, the elder of the two girls now determined to see whatever this was through. "Well, now's a perfect time to face your fears!" she said with an encouraging, toothy smile. "I'm sure that our new friends wouldn't do anything that could get you hurt so why not join me here and we can look down together!"
"Ugh! Would you stop with the stupid fake cheer act!" Anise spat out while closing her eyes tight. "You're gonna drive me even battier than I already am!"
Though Anise couldn't see it, Colette took a moment to purse her lips and think the matter over, her wide eyes blinking once, twice, and a third time before her mind could drum up the words she wanted to say.
"But. . . it's not fake," Colette finally replied, her words slow but sure. "I mean, yeah, I'm a little worried about if I'll ever be able to go back home but I'm also pretty sure that there's a way back to where I come from since there was a way to get over here. We'll see our friends and family again! Don't you worry!"
"I'm not worried about them!" Anise snapped back, the response too quick and noisy to be even close to the truth. "I'm. . . I'm just, I know Mama and Papa will probably waste their money on something silly if I'm not around to watch 'em and then I'll have to work extra hard to pay off their debts and. . . and. . ." The little soldier fought the instinct to break into tears with everything she had, the quick breakdown of the tough, little talker frustrating her to no end. "And what if the Colonel and Emperor Peony start arguing again? Who's gonna stop Jade from using one of the Emperor's rappigs in his experiments? And what'll happen if Luke and Tear get married and I'm not around to make certain they don't do anything funny? They. . . they can't get along without me."
So much of Anise wanted to pull away from the tight embrace that Colette had dragged her into.
Unfortunately, the annoying little cheerleader was apparently just too strong. No. That wasn't it. She had hypnotized her into not moving. Just how evil could this Colette person be?
"We'll find a way to get you back home to help them," Colette said reassuringly, her stern grip but soft voice holding the smaller girl still. "I'm sure we can trust these people to help us."
Anise mightily held back a sniffle as she finally pulled away, her tough shell quickly reassembling itself. "You know, I'd feel a whole lot better if I could be fighting something right now," she admitted while brushing her left fist against her shut eyes. "Nothing says stress relief like dropping a giant hammer on something."
The admission prompted Colette to tilt her head to one side as she thought the words over. Perhaps it was the still bubbling sense of worry she felt for her friends below or the urge to make another of her new friends feel better or maybe it was just the temptation brought about by the possibility of dropping hammers on robots but the end result initiated the creation of a plan within her deceptively swift mind. Clenching her fists close to her chest as she often did when she was excited, her tiny body rose up and down as she prepared herself for what she was about to do.
"Hi! I'm Kara Zor-el! I'm five feet, 11 inches tall and weigh 102 pounds because I never eat and aren't I just the cutest girl you've ever seen? In fact, I'm so sweet and innocent that I'm wearing this short skirt so you can always see my bright white underwear and I don't even know about it."
"Shut up!" bit out the Kara Zor-el that happened to be wearing sensible blue jeans, the angry half-Kryptonian batting her doppelganger aside with a hard left hook.
"No! I'm Kara Zor-el!" pronounced another version of Kara, this one sporting a ridiculously large pair of breasts that didn't seem to match the otherwise thin, hourglass figure in the least. "And I'm completely clueless when it comes to sexuality and male physical interests. I think I'll bring Jimmy Olsen back from the dead so he can flirt with me."
"You. . . are. . . not. . . me!" the Misfit version of Kara snapped back, each word of her response enforced by a punishing body blow that caved in the previously mentioned upper body and the FF-cups that came with them, the sum total of the incurred damage enough to send that particular Metal Man down in a significantly less attractive heap.
"You're not bad enough to be me!" another copy of Kara said with all the snide confidence that an 18-year-old REBEL could muster. A cigarette was trapped between her overly painted lips and she was at least attempting to wear the tacky remnants of a black, bomber jacket while sporting a pair of biker glasses that were barely supported by her upturned nose. "Don't believe me? Well, just check out my sweet ink!"
The half-Praxian couldn't help her mouth from dropping wide open as her automated clone turned around to reveal an extensive piece of body art that started at the base of her spine and ended an inch or two below the woman's partially exposed backside. Momentarily rendered speechless in the midst of all this, she was only a split second from ripping the vile thing limb from limb before the familiar curve of the Mugalshir cut through the cyborg's metallic trachea, a downward movement of the blade quickly ripping the Metal Man in two and leaving Lloyd standing among the recently created wreckage.
"Good, bloody God, is that a tramp stamp on that one?" Lloyd couldn't help but notice while looking down at his work. "That's wrong on so many levels that I don't even want to think of countin' 'em."
The genuine Kara Zor-el would have doubtlessly had something to say to that, perhaps something drawn out of the misguided anger she felt when her lover had taken a task away from her that she desperately wanted to finish, but she suddenly found herself drawn to another unusual sight. Lloyd, noticing her state of distraction, quickly swerved around to follow Kara's eyes and soon discovered the sight of Colette floating down to the battlefield, the quick but measured flapping of what appeared to be her red, purple, and pink wings easily slowing her descent. Blinking stupidly as the petite angel safely made her way to the ground, he needed a little more time than he wanted to spend in order to notice that their other visitor was clinging to Colette's back while the little girl's doll was similarly perched upon her back as if they were being approached by some odd, life-size Metrushka chest.
"Well, got to admit that's a new one," Lloyd said while firing a blast of light at a mutated copy of Mercury that was making a run for the new arrivals. "Harper! We've got some new arrivals! Care to watch their backs for a bit?"
"OH MY GOD! It's Katie Whatsername! You know, the girl who got hypnotized and was forced to marry Tom Cruise!" Roy screamed out in response, the volume behind his realization making Lloyd wince. "I have to save her! DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE!" he then screamed over the din of his own machine gun fire, the dozens of bullets tearing into the robotic duplicate of the famous startlet.
Shoulda known better, Lloyd realized while firing another blast that sent the bizarre copy of Mercury down for the count. "Flash, I don't know how Tweety screwed up this time but could you watch those two for me? Last thing we need right now are innocent casualtieeEEEEEE!"
Though not one to usually resort to panicking, the close shave he had with the 7 foot, 600-pound golden projectile sailing inches above his head was enough to throw him into a momentary unnerving. Turning his back on the airborne copy of Gold, he found himself taking a long distance look at a very apologetic Colette Brunel, her tiny fists once again pulled up in front of her lips.
"I'm sorry!" she yelled loudly over the riot of the battle, the winged woman hovering just above the ground. "I didn't mean to punch that hard!" She continued to look apologetic as she touched ground once again and began to scamper down the hill separating her from Kara and Lloyd, the steep topography causing her to almost instantly lose her footing and fall onto her face. Coincidentally, this physical miscue also happened around the time a giant boulder was dislodged from a nearby rock face, the downward momentum causing the enormous ball of rock to roll forward and smash through Arsenal's opponent before it could attempt to break the sharpshooter's neck.
Lloyd honestly didn't know how to directly respond to all that. Seeking assistance, he wisely chose to turn to his lover, who also happened to be looking a bit flummoxed but still appearing to remain in the world of sanity.
"Was she apologizing to me or the robot?"
Kara could only shrug her shoulders.
Stephanie prayed to all things holy and unholy that her lackadaisical attitude toward watching their guests would just happen to go unnoticed. She promised that she would never say any unnecessary profane language, refused to steal from other people even if they were rich beyond their wildest dreams and hadn't done anything to earn it, and even pledged to stop throwing Bruce's daily copy of The Gotham Times back at the paperboy. Anything to get her out of the trouble that she would be in if they would just. . .
"WOT THE RUDDY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, TWEETY?"
Crap.
"I'm so, so sorry," she anxiously replied over the comm. link. "Please don't tell B about this, Lloyd! And. . . and how was I suppose to know that Pollyanna could fly?"
"Maybe watching them would have done the trick," Kara not so helpfully suggested.
"Oh, go moon after your scarecrow of a bed buddy, Kare Bear," Stephanie snapped back, her stress momentarily getting the better of her.
"Look, Wally's keepin' a look-out for Colette so the least you can do is make sure that Anise girl doesn't get hurt," the young Green Lantern heard Lloyd brake in, her adopted brother sounding quite like the stately leader and all-around good guy as far as Stephanie was concerned (and would tell him so as frequently as she could so long as Bruce didn't find out about this). Quick to do as she was told, she quickly found the littlest member of their motley crew in the middle of everything, the black-haired moppet bizarrely riding on top of what appeared to be a giant version of that ugly doll she had been carrying on top of her backpack. Looking on at the little brat, she noticed the bloodthirsty grin on Anise's face as she summoned a dimensional portal that doused two of the surrounding Metal Men with sharp-looking tendrils of black energy, the spell quickly reducing the girl's unfortunate opponents to shreds.
"Yeah, Anise and needing help doesn't look like it makes for a good combination there," Steph said more to herself than to her superior officer as she looked for something to hit.
"Batman here. Professor Magnus is safe and secure," came another message from the Misfits vocal communication network. "Are the rogue Metal Men contained?"
"We're getting there," Lloyd replied before Steph could butt in with a quick apology or convenient excuse. "Quite a bit of refuse here though. Don't suppose the doc would mind if we just dumped all the bodies in this big hole he's got on the eastern side of his compound?"
"Just finish up quickly," Batman answered, the stoic detective predictably refusing to answer such a ludicrous request. "And be prepared to make your way to Los Angeles."
"The City of Angels, eh?" asked Lloyd. "What's bringing us there?"
"What appears to be the solution to this puzzle, at least according to Batson." The note of resignation in his commander's voice was quick to perturb The Black Dog, the half-demon quite used to hearing such a tone from The Caped Crusader but not when a case seemed all but solved. "And here's hoping the both of us are ready for this one."
Los Angeles – Caritas Bar and Karaoke Lounge
"Lloyd David Thomas, come here you scrumptious little English muffin," rejoiced the merry host of the proceedings while stretching his long, lanky arms forward in order to grab a hold of Lloyd and drag him forward to give the half-demon a kiss on both cheeks. "Goodness, it has been far too long since you've graced us with your sour puss and your sweet baritone."
"'Ello there, Lorne," Lloyd replied sheepishly in the midst of all this unwanted attention, the good-natured cheer of the green and brown skinned Pylian far too effervescent to incite anything more severe. In fact, he almost had a joke at the ready but, as was his way, the exiled member of the Deathwok Clan was already on the move.
"And Kara Zor-el, the other half of the deadliest couple since Sid and Nancy, you know you are not getting away without a hug!" Lorne cooed while drawing the suddenly shy half-Kryptonian into a firm embrace. "Oh, good gracious, please tell me I'm being honored with the opportunity to hear another of your divine duets. I tell you, all that innocent love and affection in your noodles would instantly turn any frown upside down."
Kara let out a quiet chuckle as she pulled herself away both from Lorne's clutches as well as the pointed look that Stephanie happened to be shooting at her. "Iiiiii don't think that's what we're here for," she said softly before adding. "But you're looking as smart as usual!"
"What? This ratty old thing?" Lorne said with laughably false humility while giving another once-over of the blood red suit, slacks, and spats that managed to mix perfectly with his crimson eyes and the similarly hued horns on top of his tall forehead. "Just consider this my little opportunity to be a walking Christmas tree."
"We need to cut to the chase here," Batman quickly butted in while moving to slide in front of his two powerful but suddenly talkative soldiers. "I've been told that Batson had informed you of our situation."
"Oh, no worries, broody beefcake," Lorne said simply, the gentleman simply too suave to pay notice to the wicked glare said beefcake provided in response. "We can get this little party started just as soon as Sam and Dean get off stage." He then unnecessarily gestured to the front of the brightly-lit establishment where two haggard but still handsome gentlemen who were either brothers or something close to it continued to reluctantly warble away to He Ain't Heavy, their eyes constantly shifting back and forth from their half-interested audience to an older man sitting at a table just right of the rostrum. "Good ol' Poppa Winchester," the chartreuse-skinned entertainer said with a whimsical smile. "Always looking for a creative way to humble his kiddies."
"So let me see if I have this one straight," Stephanie said softly, somehow courteous enough to not talk over the singing. "All this crap got started 'cause Magnus was listening to Christmas carols and those sound waves somehow mixed in with the protoplasmic fuel he uses to power the Metal Men and that's what created the dimensional breach?"
"Or so Billy Boy tells us," Wally whispered back.
"So the solution to this problem, which is now officially the stupidest cause of an apocalypse in the history of world-ending cataclysms," Steph said back through gritted teeth, "is for us to sing Christmas carols to this jolly green beansucker so he could use his hoojoo alien powers. . ."
"Hoojoo demonic powers, thank you very much," Lorne broke in with a bit of a classy snipe while stopping to applaud the two hesitant entertainers as they hastily shuffled away from the spotlight. "And judging from your past romantic record, Miss Thing, I wouldn't be throwing stones at anybody else's houses or tastes."
"So Batson's going to reroute your empathic abilities with his own magic to store the transdimensional energy that will gather up as we perform?" Lloyd strode on, the resolute vigilante nearly tempted to wrap his hands around Stephanie's mouth as she began to prepare a surely virulent response. "And he'll use that power to seal the breaches and send our two charming visitors back to where they belong."
"That's the plan as far as I could figure it," Lorne answered. "Of course, you should bear in mind that I've indulged in a few Seabreezes since I've heard about what I had to do today so something may very well have been lost in the translation."
"We know you can do it, Lorne," Kara said with a bright smile, her compliment earning her a polite grin from her target. "So I guess the only question now is who is going to sing."
"Well, the spell Billy Boy is using specifically requires a male voice," Lloyd said with a titch of dismay. "And Lorne's going to busy gathering up the mojo and I'm not about to subject innocent people to anything Speedy and Speedier have to offer."
"Harsh but acceptable," The Flash quickly agreed. "So that leaves just you and. . ."
Everybody wisely clammed up while unconsciously turning their attentions towards The Dark Knight of Gotham City. After several tense seconds, Batman mustered as much of a positive expression he could (in the form of a rather constipated-looking grimace) and addressed his silent onlookers.
"Lloyd and I have agreed to split the duties," Batman finally declared before turning back to his suddenly ecstatic understudy. "And I trust you'll want a hand in my humiliation."
Stephanie was already bouncing on the balls of her feet in unfettered anticipation. "Ooooooh, OOOOOOH! I am so playing lead guitar on this!" she said triumphantly. "I knew all those years spent playing the Christmas pageant as a way to get out of detention would come in handy someday!"
Lloyd shook his head back and forth while giving in to his desires and cuffing the fair-haired Gothamite on the back of her head. "Miss Tatlin's agreed to play bass so long as she's able to get her hands on some sheet music," the British magician added while offering a sneer back as a counter to the one provided by his adopted little sister. "And a promise to be paid rather handsomely for her services but I decided to leave that negotiation to you, Mister Wayne."
"Lovely," The Batman said through gritted teeth and the combined sniggering of Roy and Stephanie.
"And we've got James on the sax and the sound system can handle anything else we need," Lorne said while wrapping his well-manicured right hand around his cleft chin. "That just leaves drums. . ."
. . . CLANG!
Colette's head seemed to be bouncing back and forth as she continued to play "the skins", her green eyes seemingly shimmering as she maneuvered her petite hands left and right between the snare, the bass, and the cymbals. Keeping the quick practice session going for another 15 seconds, her efforts quickly inspired some of the surrounding crowd to clap and cheer as the artificial angel pounded out the last sequence of This Christmas, an energetic clash of the right cymbal causing a long lock of her hair to fly up and fall in front of her left eye. Her cheeks flushed both in response to the round of applause and the embarrassment she felt over momentarily getting lost in her joyful efforts.
"This is so much fun!" she then enthused, her fear of discomfiture having been quickly overcome. "Now I'm really ready to play some St. Martel's Day carols!"
Bruce and Lloyd, their shared and incoming suffering putting them close to the same page, both turned to Lorne, the two heroes desperately searching for any clue as to what they had gotten into.
Lorne, however, only kept applauding.
"Oh holy night. . . the stars so bright, they're shining. It is the night. . . of our dear, savior's birth." Bruce Wayne sang to the rapt audience, the deep mixture between baritone and bass carrying through the bar like a slow winter wind.
"Wow," Kara murmured, her eyes locked onto the stage. "I mean, I hear him singing from the Abbey Road album every now and again when he doesn't think I can hear him but. . ."
"Yeah, not bad," Roy agreed, albeit with much less childlike wonder. "A bit behind Nat King Cole though. . . but definitely miles ahead of Neil Diamond."
"And just a smidge past Eric Cartman," Wally threw in, the two former Teen Titans then nodding together in a mutual accord as if they had just found the way to peace in The Middle East.
"Can't you two just be quiet?" Kara asked through her hushed whisper. "And what's with the camcorder anyway?"
"Let's just say I'm giving myself the honor of recording a spectacular failure," Wally replied, a smile sneaking onto his face as his right hand busied itself with adjusting the focus on the lens.
Kara quickly rolled her eyes, the half-Praxian growing more irritated that she felt that she had to deal with the two people sitting next to her. "What are you talking about? Bruce is a great singer."
Wally's smile only widened. "Oh, just give it some time," he said with a cocky certainty. "Trust me, there's a reason why 'Mister Wayne' doesn't sing with the kiddie choirs at the Wayne Foundation Christmas Charity Ball anymore."
"Oh night. . . when Christ was born. . ." Bruce intoned, his slow, smooth delivery causing a small but genuine smile to break onto Kara and Lorne's faces. "Oh night. . ."
"Wait for it," Wally whispered as Roy leaned forward in anticipation.
"DIVIaaaaaaaccccccchhhhh!"
The rest of the song was drowned out by a sparse bit of self-conscious coughing as Bruce's failed attempt to hit the infamous high note of the planet's most popular Christmas carol quickly caused the pleasant-sounding gentleman to suddenly appear as if an uncommonly large frog was attempting to escape from his throat. To their credit, the girls on stage continued playing through what little remained and much of the audience offered a polite bit of applause while Bruce walked off the stage while fighting back the urge to stomp away in a supremely broody manner. Lloyd also managed to be on his best behavior as well, the Brit subtly motioning for another round of applause as he took center stage while his quick hands adjusted the microphone stand to suit his comforts.
Roy and Wally were laughing like hyenas all the way until Bruce arrived at their table in the back, the accomplished detective glumly taking a seat while silently accepting a Seabreeze from a conciliatory Lorne before the Pylian made his way back behind the bar.
"OH GOD!" Roy wheezed out, his face nearly as red as the hair on top of his head. "IT WAS EVEN FUNNIER THAN YOU SAID IT WOULD BE, WALL-EYE!" Still struggling for breath, he began to pound the table so forcefully that it began to jostle Bruce's drink until it threatened to spill.
Bruce didn't even bother to glare as he picked up his drink, a deep sigh escaping from his tired throat as he leaned back and prepared to take a sip.
"Destroy that tape or I take your children and leave the both of you to rot in debtor's prison."
Thankfully, the rest of the Caritas Christmas concert went off without a hitch as Lloyd managed to either stride or somewhat stumble his way through a variety of both traditional holiday favorites and some contemporary picks he had learned to love during the many long nights in the care of Doctor Naomi Mitchell. However, in the interest of brevity, perhaps it would be wise to forego describing the performance in full and instead offer a brief description of the more noteworthy highlights.
Possibilities for changes to the song list by the house band (quickly dubbed Angry Cheese by the guitarists despite the annoyed opposition of lead singer Lloyd Thomas) were immediately rescinded upon Stephanie Brown's attempt to cajole Lloyd into singing The Most Offensive Song Ever. Threats made by Lloyd to throw his band's lead guitarist through a table continue to remain unconfirmed.
A bit of a scene developed during the first intermission when bass guitarist Anise Tatlin left the stage in an attempt to cheer up/shamelessly flirt with a still mopey Bruce Wayne. A harsh stare cut her efforts short, however, thus prompting her to sneak behind and then embrace one Richard Grayson, who had recently arrived from The Watchtower in order to enjoy the festivities. It is still not entirely clear why Nightwing, a man frequently regarded as being quite popular and comfortable with the opposite sex, responded to Anise by letting out a high pitched scream before running out of the bar at breakneck speed but sources do claim that Miss Tatlin was seen laughing and whispering "I've still got it" as she returned to the stage.
Drummer Colette Brunel managed to trip and fall on her face only twice throughout the entire performance. The first incident occurred during the intermission, an awkward tumble that shattered the leftside steps to the stage while the second occasion came about during the performance of It Came Upon a Midnight Clear where she stood up in order to better handle the hasty cymbal work and wound up toppling over onto her spare drum, annihilating it beyond any possible point of repair. On a completely unrelated note, the Chicago Cubs would go on to win the 2010 World Series and Marvel Comics Editor-in-Chief Joe Quesada would spend the rest of the holiday season and the next several months to follow in Chelsea Way Hospital after being hit by a bus.
After Billy Batson had acquired the necessary energy needed to eventually send Anise and Colette back to their respective realities, Lorne was easily tempted to come on stage whereupon he performed a rendition of This Christmas that even Aretha Franklin herself would have a hard time trying to match. After stylishly accepting a raucous reaction from the crowd, the Pylian was quite pleased to continue entertaining his guests with free drinks and the opportunity to sing any song they wanted to, an opportunity that many of our heroes took with little threat of shame or embarrassment. And, as the party began to wind to a close, Anise Tatlin attempted to take a sip from the bottle of Chianti she had managed to filch from underneath the bar, thus prompting Bruce Wayne to calmly walk over and snatch the decanter away before any more illegalities could be performed. Tatlin, in return, provided a response that perhaps perfectly describes the sum total of emotions that we all feel during this, the most wonderful time of the year.
"Booooooo. You suck!"
Misfits Confidential
See? I told you not to read this story, didn't I? Still, for those who did, allow me to wish all of you a very merry holiday season and my hopes that you can take heart in the world and people around you and (hopefully) a bit of amusement in what I had to offer. I'm pretty well aware that I took some creative licenses here (or perhaps taken them and run them over with a metaphorical steamroller) but the point here was not to tell a story that had any sense of sense. It was to thank all of you for giving me the drive to keep this story going, to show my appreciation for all the feedback you've given me through the years, and to cobble together a present truly worthy of the best Canadian little sister any Batman nerd could ask for.
Merry Christmas, Li-Li.
Bother.