Summary: Officer Grayson gives out traffic tickets; Wesley discovers Cordelia left; Lindsey resents his role as babysitter of--but that would be telling.
Author's Note: To avoid confusion, all times given are Eastern Standard Time.
Disclaimer: Nightwing is owned by DC Comics and Time/Warner; Angel and company are owned by Joss Whedon and 20th Century Fox; this is an original story that does not intend to infringe on their copyright. Constructive feedback is welcome!
Copyright January 2002
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Nightwing/Angel: Shadow Dancing
By Syl Francis
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Bludhaven: the corner of Bowline St. and Parkthorne Ave.
[Thursday 0845hrs EST]
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Sgt. Amy Rohrback moved away from the gruesome murder scene, her head bent over a report. She crossed underneath the yellow police tape and came up against the horrific sight of the congested morning traffic.
"What the Hell is going on?" she muttered. Where was her rookie partner, Officer Dick Grayson? He was supposed to be directing traffic away from the murder scene, not causing the largest traffic jam ever seen in the annals of Bludhaven.
She stormed through the maelstrom of bumper-to-bumper cars and honking horns. Shouted obscenities added to the discordant din in the crisp, winter morning. Finally, Amy spotted him, standing over a diverse group of people, writing what looked like a ticket.
"Grayson!" she yelled, running towards him. "Grayson!"
Dick looked up from his task, and spotting her, greeted her with what she privately thought of as one of his lady killer smiles.
"Hi, Sarge!" he said.
"Grayson, what are you doing? You're supposed to be directing traffic!" She waved her arm at the traffic mess behind her. "How the Hell did you let this--this--!" She waved again, unable to find an appropriate adjective. "--Happen!?"
Her young partner looked at the traffic jam as if noticing it for the first time.
"Sorry about that Sarge," he said, apologetically. "But I had to stop for a coupla minutes to arrest these characters."
Amy looked down at the group of men, women, and teens that her young partner indicated. They were all cuffed and trussed up, ready for transportation. They immediately began to shout all at once, protesting their unfair treatment.
An elderly lady in particular shouted the loudest. Amy waved both her arms at them.
"Okay, okay!" she shouted over them. "One at a time!" She turned to Dick. "Talk fast, Grayson. And this better be good!"
Dick gave her an openly ingenuous look, the kind that either sent her pulse racing with impure thoughts or pushed her over the edge into apoplexy, depending on the situation. This was one of those apoplexy times.
"Well, Sarge, I was directing traffic like you told me to. When this guy here--" he pointed at one of the suspects. "--Stephen C. Coonts--honked his horn several times. Even after I warned him not to. That started a chain reaction of mischievous horn honking--"
"You. Arrested. These. People...For honking their HORNS!!??" Amy roared.
"Uh, n-no, Sarge. Coonts here, I arrested him for attempting to strike an officer of the law."
Amy's thunderous expression changed immediately. She turned to Coonts, her dark eyes twin daggers pinning him in place.
"Is this true?" she asked quietly.
"He started it!" Coonts protested. He was met with a chorus of "Yeah's!" by the others.
Amy turned to Dick, her eyes ordering him to explain further.
"Well, I was going to give him a ticket for honking his horn. So I wrote him up, right?" At Amy's nod of understanding, he continued. "He tore it up!" Dick's expression reflected his shock at such behavior.
"So, I wrote him another one. This time, I added 'littering' to the citation. When I handed him the second ticket, well..." Dick paused, and catching her eye, nodded. "He tore that one up, too." He shrugged. "I asked him to step out of the car, and when he did, he took a swing at me."
"Why didn't you report this right away?" Amy asked.
"I was supposed to be directing traffic," Dick reminded her. "I figured that we could take him when our shift was over."
"Well, what about these other desperadoes?" Amy asked.
Dick pointed at the elderly lady.
"Sadie Carey," he reported. "Same circumstances--she was honking her horn and wouldn't cease and desist, so I tried to give her a ticket, too."
"Don't tell me that she took a swing at you?" Amy asked. She gave the woman an assessing look. The woman 'harumphed' and threw her nose up in the air.
"Uh, no, Sarge," Dick said, laughing slightly. "She offered me a bribe--twenty bucks!"
Amy closed her eyes in long-suffering silence.
"Bribe!?" Sadie protested. "Since when is offering a payoff to a cop in Bludhaven considered against the law? An honest citizen can't get anything done in this city! I demand a lawyer!"
Afraid to ask anything further, Amy rolled her eyes upward and plunged in anyway.
"And what about these others?" Although she didn't really want to hear the answer, her tone gave nothing away,
His voice light and breezy--as if arresting what passed for honest citizens in the corrupt city of Bludhaven was an everyday occurrence--rookie Officer Dick Grayson proceeded to fill his senior partner in on his morning's activities.
Amy felt a headache coming on. It was going to be a long day.
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Bludhaven: 1013 Parkthorne Ave., Apt. 3A
[Thursday 1930hrs EST]
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"So, Cordelia said she actually saw the murder?" Dick's voice was muffled by a large, fluffy towel that he was currently using to dry his hair. Another one was draped precariously around his hips.
He'd been off-shift for less than hour and hoped to catch a few hours sleep before he hit the streets again. He was exhausted. In the past twenty-four hours, he'd had about two hours sleep because he'd been called in early to pull a double-shift.
The vampire murder was apparently having a 'circle the wagons' mentality on the Bludhaven PD brass.
"Well, she said she had a sudden psychic flash, and that she saw what she thought was a murder," Barbara said. "Possibly the case you're working on, or a new victim."
"A new victim," he sighed. "That's the last thing I need."
Dick sat down on the edge of his bed and gave his hair one final, vigorous rub. A giggle from his computer center stopped him. Slowly looking out from under the towel, he glared across the room towards the closed-circuit video camera. A red blinking light indicated that it was activated.
"Ha. Ha. Can't a guy have some privacy around here?" he complained. He picked up a remote control unit and quickly turned off the camera.
Barbara's amused laughter rang through the apartment.
"Party poop," she giggled.
"I bet you wouldn't like it if Bruce wired your place with secret spy cameras all over it!" he retorted.
A cold silence greeted his words.
"Don't go there, former Boy Wonder," Barbara warned. "I've still got issues with your mentor."
"Yeah, well, stand in line," Dick muttered. Both young people tacitly agreed not to talk about Dick's former guardian. Slipping into a BPD t-shirt and pair of sweats, Dick padded barefoot to his computer. Sitting in front of the monitor, he quickly pressed the 'on' button.
Barbara Gordon's lovely features greeted him across cyberspace.
"Hi, gorgeous," he said. Barbara gave him a warm smile. Realizing that they were staring at each other, both quickly looked away and started talking at the same time. Embarrassed, they stopped just as suddenly.
Dick cleared his throat and got down to business.
"So, did she say anything else?" he asked. Barbara nodded.
"She said that she was going to hop the first flight available to Bludhaven and see what she could do to help."
Dick grimaced. He wasn't thrilled about having Angel Investigations back in town. Fighting vampires with vampires just seemed unnatural, and said so. Barbara held his eyes steadily.
"I didn't say that Angel was coming. I said that Cordelia is coming--"
"What--? But what's the good of that? I'm talking vampire here, Babs! And where's there one, there's bound to be more. It's like that shampoo commercial. One vampire begets three. And those three each create three more. And so on. And so on. Pretty soon, I'll be up to my neck in vampires." He paused a beat. "No pun intended."
"So, what do you want me to do?" Barbara asked.
Dick rubbed his eyes, his thought processes fuzzy. He felt like he had Gummi Bears for brains at the moment. It was hard to think.
"I don't know, Babs. Let me sleep on it for a couple of hours, okay? Maybe I'll have a dream vision or something to help me out."
"You don't have dream visions," Barbara snorted.
"I dream about you, don't I?" Dick shot back. Grinning at the sudden crimson flush across her high cheekbones, he quickly reached over and turned off the monitor on Barbara's spluttering.
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Bludhaven: Location unknown
[Thursday 2000hrs EST]
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The brass lamp flew into the mirror, shattering it. Flung with a supernatural strength fueled by white-hot rage, the lamp impaled itself on the concrete wall upon impact.
The young man relaxing on the recliner, looked up from his paper, annoyed. "She has an arm like Nolan Ryan," he muttered.
That was the third mirror in the past week. He shook his head. His experience with vampires had long inured him to their dangers.
"It's not fair!" a beautiful, blonde woman screeched as she stomped into the living room. "How am I supposed to make myself gorgeous if I can't even see myself?"
She picked up an ashtray and threw it against the wall for added emphasis. The ashtray slammed into the concrete wall and instantly disintegrated into atoms.
The young man rubbed his eyes and counted to ten. He'd been thinking about giving up smoking anyway. He glared at the attractive blonde who was currently ranting and raving. With few exceptions, he found vampires to be predicable and not a little stupid.
"How can I attract the best-looking guys in the clubs if I can't even put on my mascara?" she demanded.
The man put on his most patient face and wondered about the cosmic joke that saddled him with this Vampire Valley Girl.
She definitely fell in the 'stupid' category, he groused. How did Chief Redhorne and that oddball, MacElvany, expect him to do what they'd hired him for, if he was given this dead flashlight battery as his primary recruiting tool?
He remembered the woman who'd been with Redhorne and MacElvany. She'd never uttered a word, yet the others appeared completely cowed by her. Single-plaited, long blonde hair with matching icy, blue-eyes--she'd been built like an Amazon. MacElvany addressed her as 'Miss Mercy'...
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At mention of her name, 'Miss Mercy' glared contemptuously at the squat, loudly dressed underling. MacElvany swallowed nervously, loosening his collar, which suddenly seemed to be choking him.
"Uh--" MacElvany stuttered. "The a-agents have already been dispatched to LA, where they're supposed to be--what do you call it?--Possessed--?" He dared a glance at 'Miss Mercy.' The woman barely nodded her acknowledgement.
"Possessed--" MacElvany continued with growing confidence. "By a couple of--whatchacallit--stealth demons! It's all been arranged by--"
"--Wolfram and Hart," Lindsey interrupted. "I know that. I'm waiting for word from my business associate. She'll let me know when the agents are enroute here, to Bludhaven."
'Miss Mercy' gave him an appraising look. Lindsey thought he detected the slightest touch of respect in her eyes, but it was instantly suppressed...
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Lindsey shivered, smiling ruefully. Now she would've made a hell of a vampire.
He glanced at the booby-brained bimbo he'd been forced to work with instead. Why me, he grumbled? This should've been Lilah's gig, but the Big Boss insisted that the mission required Lindsey's personal finesse. Lilah probably had something to do with it, Lindsey thought. It had her fingerprints written all over it.
Giving himself a mental headshake, he stood up.
"Lindsey," the vampire pouted. "You think I'm beautiful, don't you? That old meanie, Spike, never really loved me. He was just using me." She started to whimper. "He only wanted to get close to the Slayer!" At this, she began wailing in earnest.
Lindsey McDonald walked up to her. She stood slightly hunched, the picture of dejection, her back to him. Hesitating momentarily, Lindsey took her in his arms.
"Hey, of course, you're beautiful," he said with warm reassurance. "You're a very beautiful woman, Harmony. I mean, even your name is beautiful."
Lindsey listened, almost gagging at his own words. However, his unconventional work with the law firm of Wolfram and Hart prepared him for just about anything. Lying with utmost sincerity came easily.
"Y-You really think so?" Harmony asked. At his nod, she visibly brightened. "My mother used to tell me that she named me 'Harmony' because she wanted me to help bring in world peace! I won't let you down, Lindsey. I'll get us a minion tonight--I promise!"
Lindsey smiled back. He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
"I know you will, Harmony," he said softly in her ear. "And trust me, no man will be able to resist you tonight." His brotherly embrace grew in desire, and before he knew what he was doing, Lindsey found himself locked in a passionate kiss with her, his one remaining hand exploring the soft contours of the all-too willing vampire beauty...
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Los Angeles: Angel Investigations
[Thursday 2348hrs EST//2048hrs PST//]
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"Cordelia's gone."
Wesley's accusing tone broke through Angel's grim, brooding thoughts. He glanced at the desk clock--08:48 p.m. He didn't have time for this, he sighed. He needed to be out in the City of Angels, hunting its Denizens of the Dark.
Knowing that Wesley would not be easily put off, Angel finally looked up from the shadowed recesses of his deserted business office. His eyes swept around the room again. He didn't need to turn on the overhead lights to know that all signs of Cordelia were missing.
"I know," he said, his voice sounding tired. "She left last night. Emptied her desk--took all her stuff."
"You don't understand!" Wesley snapped, turning on the lights. Angel blinked rapidly, temporarily blinded. "Cordelia is really gone!"
Angel stiffened. "What do you mean?"
"I just came from her apartment. I went there to check on her." Wesley gave Angel a disgusted look. "Why did you have to use the 'F-word'?" he complained.
Angel looked startled. "What? I never--!"
"'F-' as in 'fired'!" Wesley broke in. "You know how sensitive she is--especially after the last time you gave us the 'can.' Can't you manage your employees without resorting to firing us every other day?"
"Well, I--" Angel began.
"Cordelia is 'Vision-Girl' after all. I mean, it's not like you can just advertise for a psychic in a trade newspaper, you know."
"Well, actually, I can--"
"Dennis said she called for a taxi and--"
"Dennis?" Angel asked.
"You know--Dennis Pearson!" At Angel's blank look, Wesley rolled his eyes. "As in Dennis the Friendly Ghost. Cordelia's poltergeist!"
Angel nodded in sudden understanding. Cordelia's apartment was 'haunted' by a non-malevolent poltergeist that acted as her protector. If anyone would know where she'd gone, it would be Dennis.
They were interrupted by the phone's ring. Giving Angel a withering look, Wesley picked it up.
"Angel Investigations!" Wesley said sharply. "Although we can't seem to get along with each other, we'll try to help you as best we can before we self-destruct due to the sheer pig-headedness on the part of some people! Well? What do you want?"
"...?"
"Look, whoever you are--you called us, remember?! Now, do you have a problem or not--?"
Angel yanked the phone from Wesley's hand. The usually dapper Englishman turned in outraged protest, but Angel just waved him off and turned his back on him.
"Angel Investigations," he said calmly. "How may we help you?" He stiffened, listening attentively. "Are you sure? Where were they spotted last?"
He listened, and then nodded reluctantly. "Okay, we'll meet." Angel hung up and turned to Wesley.
"That was Gunn. A couple of feds investigating the mysterious disappearances of an unknown number of people were last seen on the trail of a couple of stealth demons."
Wesley drew in a sharp breath. Stealth demons inhabited the bodies of their victims, controlling all their mental and muscle control. While the stealth demon inhabited the host body, the victim lived. However, when the demon abandoned the body, he left an exit wound that invariably killed the host.
As such, the agents were already as good as dead. But now Wesley and Angel had to stop the demons before they found yet another host body.
"One more thing," Angel said, looking away. "The agents are from the Department of Meta-Human Affairs."
Wesley stared at him a moment longer, slowly nodding. Why would President Luthor's newest cabinet level department be interested in a couple of stealth demons?
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End of Part 2