NO BOYS ALLOWED
"I don't understand, Teekl. Helena should have certainly been back by now." Klarion whines as he paces about his study. "How long does it take to try on a couple silly white dresses anyway?"
For the umpteenth time, the witch scolds himself for allowing his better half such leniency to go out on her own. To leave the safety of their village and home. And without the protection of his familiar, to boot. But what is he supposed to do? It's not like she's a prisoner here. She's his equal, not his slave. Even if they are currently at war with a malevolent being of great power, whether he likes it or not, that strong-willed woman is going to do what she likes and there's nothing he can do to stop her. Not without her beating him mercilessly, that is. Or denying him of the more carnal delights. And he LIKES said delights. He likes them A LOT.
But still, that doesn't stop him from worrying. Doesn't stop the fear from churning in his belly.
Once more he thinks to push the panic button. To put the call out to a certain super friend. The Red Robin. Tim Drake. That's what the device is for, after all. Isn't it? The bat-shaped pin clipped to his tie. The wizardry of machinery no bigger than a dime that the crime-fighter had gifted him to use in case of emergencies. Emergencies such as this.
But what if it's not an emergency. What if he's just worrying himself ragged for no reason?
Growling aloud, Klarion slumps into the tall, leather wing-back chair at his desk. He runs his thumb along the smooth enamel to the pin, debating whether or not to apply just a wee bit more pressure and finally press the darn thing.
Just one little push and he'd be linked into their network. Patched through to the all-mighty Oracle and all the rest of Helena's kin. They'd be able to activate the tracking device, yet another of Tim's gifts, that the witch had secretly affixed to her person before she had left for her outing. And just like that, Klarion would know where she is. Simple.
Best case, Helena would be pissed at him for spying on her and they'd laugh about it later. Worst case...
Without another thought, Klarion pushes the button.
"Weeeeeeeeeee're Heeeeerrrre!"
The limousine rolls to a stop, but Helena has no clue as to where they're at. From the moment they'd left the Wayne estate, the windows had blacked over, leaving her guessing with each turn. Which she has, quite diligently. Her training has taught her that if ever she'd found herself held in a hostage situation, which is a common trait for a Wayne, to count each and every turn for turn. And judging by the time that's passed and the speed that they'd driven, she can calculate a ballpark estimate of where exactly they've stopped. Which is somewhere on the outskirts of Gotham around the Sprang Bridge. Not far from Cape Carmine, to be exact.
Enigma tosses a thick black blindfold into the backseat as Helena waits for the doors to unlock. She instructs her to put it on and after a moment of stewing, the Huntress begrudgingly does so.
It's not that she doesn't trust her riddling friend, because she does. It's just that Enigma tends to get a little manic when a mad-capped scheme is involved. And kidnapping a Gotham heiress and stealing Bruce Wayne's private limo certainly qualifies as mad-capped, indeed.
Helena counts the steps as she's lead out of the car and into a strange building, walking completely blind as her so-called friend leads her by the arm.
"So… You gonna tell me what this is all about?" Helena half growls in a tone to nearly mask her father's.
E giggles and continues along their path.
"It's your BACHELORETTE party, silly!" She downright squeals. "What kind of maid of honor, not to mention bestest friend in the whole wide world, would I be if I didn't give you one last evening of debauchery!"
Oh God. That's exactly what Helena was afraid of. She stops walking, leading Enigma to tug firmly on her arm.
"Ohhhhhhh no. No no no no no." The bride-to-be protests. "We can't do this."
"See… I KNEW you'd be like this. That's why I didn't even bother asking your permission." The Riddler's Daughter groans. She gives Helena arm one last tug to move her along. "Now will you please move your feet, already? You weigh like a ton!"
Not risking having her arm pulled out of its socket, Helena picks up her pace and starts moving again. Still, she's hesitant.
"You don't understand. It's not like I can drink, anyway. And if Klarion finds out, and he WILL FIND OUT, that I'm in a room with a bunch of scantily-dressed men all grinding all over me, well…"
"What? He'll end the world?"
"YES!"
No lie, Klarion's a bit of the jealous type. He's possessive, to say the least, and there's no telling what he'd do should he find Helena hanging around with a group of men dressed in nothing more than a pair of cowboy boots and a g-string. With their glistening muscles and tan, gleaming skin. Their firm, washboard abs and asses so tight you can bounce a quarter off them…
Enigma stops for a moment, making a very daydreamy Helena stop along with her. She laughs, full and maniacally. The kind of mad cackle you would expect from a former villain, even if she was just a sidekick. She's picked up her so-called father's dubious laugh, if nothing else.
"You really think I'd bring you to a strip club? Come on! You know me better than to do something THAT cliché " Enigma grins wickedly. "Oh, no! What I've got planned is so much BETTER than THAT!"
"Klarion?"
From out of the pendant beams a small hologram of the Red Robin's face. It looks like he's in a small room somewhere, in front of a great display of monitors. Probably in the dark from the way the computer screens are glowing.
"Oh… I'm sorry. I was expecting…"
"Oracle?" Tim finishes his sentence.
Klarion nods his head at the hologram, feeling silly afterwards since he's not even sure if Tim can actually see him or not.
"Yeah. She asked for the night off." The hologram of Red Robin answers. "What can I help you with? Is Helena…"
"I'm not sure." Klarion replies. "I'm probably just worrying myself over nothing, but… She should have been home by now and I can't help but think…"
His voice trails off. He'd rather not say what he can't help but think, as it's the worst thing anyone can possibly think of.
Tim nods in affirmation. Square jawed and thin-lipped, he grits his teeth, preparing himself for the night. He doesn't even need Klarion to finish his thought. Whatever the case may be, if his sister's in trouble, he's on the case.
"Does she have the locator on her?" He asks.
"Yes." Klarion responds this time rather than just nodding.
He can see by the projection that Tim has begun typing things into his computer from wherever it is he's stationed. Working on locating Helena's coordinates.
"I've got a ping." The Red Robin replies shortly after. His face then disappears from the hologram, replaced by that of a map of Gotham City. "I'm beaming you the coordinates. Meet you in five."
For someone who can teleport themselves anywhere in the whole known universe in nothing more than the blink of an eye, five minutes feels like an eternity for the Warlock. The only thing that has kept him from bursting into the building is the fact that he'd promised his cat, Teekl, he wouldn't. Instead, he's bided his time staking out the property from atop a neighboring structure. Doing what he'd think Helena would do in this situation, which is take in intel and inventory of the situation.
For one, the location is strange. It's seedy and dank. Some old warehouse in the middle of nowhere. Unassuming enough, but it doesn't have any of the earmarks of Uriah's handiwork. It's just so ordinary and mundane. So Gotham. Not to mention, Klarion doesn't feel even the slightest twinge of dark magic, or even ANY sort of magic anywhere in the nearby vicinity. So if it's not Uriah who has taken her, then what the hell is going on?
"Hey."
Like a pack of silent ninjas, the Red Robin and company descend on Klarion's location. There's three of them in total. Tim, Dick, and Jason. The Robins.
"That's it?" Klarion sneers, unimpressed by their obvious lack of numbers.
"What?" Tim defends. "Bruce is off in Japan, not that we want to worry him just yet. At least not until we have all the information. And everyone else isn't answering their comms."
Klarion sighs and looks back towards the building. At least it's not Uriah they're going up against. If it were, there'd be little hope these three former sidekicks would even make it out of here alive, let alone be much help in rescuing his sweet Helena. Which still leads to the question, just what ARE they going up against?
Teekl offers to be their eyes and ears. To enter the building unseen and scout it out for them to check if it is safe. The group agrees on the plan and off the little cat goes, scurrying down the scaffolding and across the yard to find an opening to squeeze himself into the nearby warehouse. However, not even halfway across the pavement, a set of security cameras spot him.
From their bird's eye view, the team watches as the cameras zero in on the feline familiar. They lock on their target and begin to shoot.
"TEEKL!"
Klarion cries for his familiar to return to him, not that the cat needs to be told what to do. A laser beam zooms by his head, a near miss, and the frantic fuzzball turns tail and jets out of there like his furry little ass were on fire. A millisecond longer and it probably would be so, too.
Faster than a speeding bullet, the tabby races back across the yard and leaps the scaffolding in three long bounds just to find himself back inside his master's arms. Safe.
Tim looks down at the small computer monitor built in to the armor on his arm, punching in buttons as he scans the yard. Jason seems to be doing nearly the same thing. Adjusting hidden knobs on the side of his red dome of a helmet as he gives the building a good once over. But Klarion doesn't need any fancy tech to tell him the obvious. He's got the scardy cat huddled in his arms to prove what everyone else already knows. The whole perimeter around the building is boobytrapped and set to kill. Like one big, giant death trap.
"Well… This should be fun." Dicks groans.
Tripple twist, a roll and a tuck. Twenty yard dash and a well-timed teleportation spell later and the witch and his trio of heroes find themselves inside. Panting and heaving as they've broken down the front door to near splinters just to finally gain entrance.
Everyone in the main room turns their attention towards the interruption. Besides the group's heavy breathing, it's so quiet, you can practically hear a pin drop.
"OK? WHO ORDERED THE STRIPPERS?"
Doubled over and gasping for breath, Klarion eyes the room, noticing for the first time since they've busted in that the entire audience is women. All women.
"Strippers?" He repeats to himself. There's no way he'd heard that correctly. He must be even more exhausted than he'd thought.
Just then, one particular woman makes her way through the crowd. Dressed in a fuzzy pink tiara and satin sash that says 'Bride To Be'. She throws her arms around Klarion and squeals.
"BLUE!"
Still in a bit of shock, the Warlock rights himself and returns her hug.
"Helena?" He asks slowly, still eyeing the rest of the crowd of ladies suspiciously. "What's going on? I thought you were in trouble and I…"
"Awwww…. Were you worried about me?" She teases.
Yet another woman emerges from the crowd. This one dressed in purple and green and packing heat.
"It's a bachelorette party, numb nuts. Ya'know… NO BOYS ALLOWED." The fiery red-head exclaims. "Mayyyyybe it's time to invest in a cell phone there, Blue Balls. Ya'know… Before you go party crashing."
She quirks an eyebrow and purses her lips, scanning the quad of would-be-heroes with that of puzzling curiosity.
"How DID you get past my security systems, anyhow?" Enigma begs the question.
She's a strange juxtaposition of cute and deadly. Her arm hangs loosely at her side, the butt of the AK47 she brandishes resting comfortably, albeit ominously, on her tilted hip. The only thing that's NOT comfortable are the boys. Staring the former villainess down, deciding whether or not she's a threat.
The air sits thick as she saunters her way past the reunited couple and straight for the three little birdies. Finger tapping on the trigger as if she's off to hunt big game. Her bouncy red pigtails fall seductively to the side as she tilts her head just ever so, picking Jason from the trio.
"HOW. DID. YOU. GET. IN?" Enigma riddles yet again. This time she's no longer playing. Which each word, she instigates with a poking finger to his chest.
Like emerald fire, her eyes set squarely on his mask. As if she could possibly spy through the red dome to see him grinning at her fiendishly from inside its hardened walls. Defiant and devious as ever, he refuses to answer her. He refuses to give in.
Just then, another form emerges from the crowd. This one in a wheel chair with a longbow sitting on her lap. Nightwing speaks up, thankfully cutting the tension.
"Barbara?"
Red Robin notices a few familiar faces as well.
"Steph? Cass?"
It's no wonder nobody was answering their comms tonight. Seems like everyone is here.
"This really IS a bachelorette party!" He deduces before adding, "With guns?"
Taking in the entirety of the room, it's plain to see this is some sort of indoor gun range. Complete with pink streamers and cracked open crates of illegally contrabanded firepower. High capacity magazines litter the floor along with empty wine cooler bottles and sparkly confetti.
"What better way to VENT before the big day than to VENT-ilate?" Enigma muses. "Besides, we got a bunch'a guns off the streets and we're having a good time. That's a win, win in my book. You got a problem with that?"
She's still glaring at Jason as she talks, who's still glaring at her right back in return.
The leader of this merry band of misfits, leans over to grab the Red Hood by the back of his brown leather jacket.
"Come on." He instructs his troops. "Why don't we let the girls have their fun."
With a tug, he pulls Jay away from his staring contest and back towards the door.
"You too!" He orders Klarion. Who is less than pleased to be torn away again from his girl, especially after all the trouble they'd gone through just to find her.
Jason growls and kicks an empty bottle across the floor, begrudgingly following orders like a good little soldier. Which he hates. Especially when it's Dick who's the one barking orders.
"FINE!" He shouts grumpily. Spotting a fully stocked cooler of beer, he quickly snatches the whole thing up. "But I'm taking this!"
Halfway out the door, he also spots the rocket launcher propped up against the side of the wall, which he also lays claim to, tucking the massive thing underneath his arm.
"AND THIS!"
Bringing back those little gifts Tim had given Klarion way back in chapter 41, the tracker and calling devices. I'd been tinkering with ideas on what the heck I was gonna do with 'em. Figured this would be a fun excuse. Because right now we all deserve a little fun before the big day and all the craziness that follows soon enough! Moar fun next chapter. STAG NIGHT!
