Summary: Nightwing, Angel, and monster--oh, my! (Oh, and Mercy, MacElvany and Lindsey, too. Remember them?)
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
****
Nightwing/Angel: Shadow Dancing
By Syl Francis
****
Los Angeles: Angel Investigations
[Friday 0645hrs EST //Friday 0345hrs PST//]
****
"...you're in for the ride of your life!"
"What?" Angel stared at the phone. "What are you talking abou--?"
Angel stopped in mid-sentence as the room around him suddenly began to fade in a beam of bright light. He tried to move, but was frozen in place, phone still in hand.
He had a sudden sinking feeling of nausea, almost of seasickness. As the room disappeared around him, Angel's rage transformed him into his true self. Whoever had attacked him would face the vampire Angelus' wrath!
****
Gotham City: Clock Tower
[Friday 0700hrs EST]
****
Whoever said that transporter technology was instantaneous? Barbara fumed. She had now held Angel in transporter stasis for the better part of fifteen minutes. She'd thought that it'd be so simple to pluck him from LA and then plunk him down in Bludhaven next to Nightwing.
"But no-ooo-ooo..." she muttered. Nightwing had to pick this moment to cut his signal. "I don't need any help," she mimicked in annoyance. "This is my case! And my town!"
Well, I've got half a mind to leave you to your fate, Mr. Independent!
Barbara's fingers flew over her keyboard as these ominous thoughts further darkened her already foul mood. She was terrified. She was honest enough with herself to admit it privately.
If she managed to re-establish her uplink with Nightwing...
If Nightwing somehow managed to survive whatever monster MediTech had created long enough for her to bring in the cavalry...
And if Angel managed to arrive in time to render any assistance...
Well, if all that happened, Barbara would just, she'd just...
I'll just sit down and have a good cry is what. Then I'll kill him! For making me so crazy with worry!
Barbara glanced at her mission chronometer: 0655 hrs. Twenty minutes had now elapsed since she'd dematerialized Angel. Oh, God, please let me be on time--! At this moment, the familiar midnight blue light that represented Nightwing came back online.
"Dick--" she began, but was interrupted by the same fearsome, high-pitched shriek that she'd heard earlier, followed by Dick's gasping, exhausted voice.
"Oh, boy..."
Instantaneously, Barbara reactivated the JLA transporter, sending in the cavalry with all flags flying.
"Look out!" Dick's voice shouted in warning. This was met by more screams and enraged howls of pain.
****
Bludhaven: the Corporate Offices of MediTech
Penthouse Guest Quarters: Presidential Suite
[Friday 0640hrs EST]
****
However, Barbara wasn't the only one who'd been following the raging battle. Minutes earlier...
"Mr. Loo-thor ain't gonna like this," MacElvany whined. Mercy quickly grabbed him by the collar and brought him nose to nose with her.
"If you want to live, Insect," she hissed in a low undertone, "you will never utter that name again while we're on the 'Job.' Do you understand?" His forehead suddenly breaking out in sweat, MacElvany nodded quickly, the whites of his eyes showing his fear.
Mercy released him instantly, her disgust at having touched him apparent. For the hundredth time she wondered at her boss's state of mind when he'd made the 'insect' his personal assistant. Now Mercy was in the unenviable position of having to take orders from the squatty little vermin--while attempting to run interference whenever he said or did something stupid that could compromise their mission (which was often)--when all she dreamed of was squashing him underneath the heel of her boot.
MacElvany swallowed several times, pointing at the closed circuit TV monitor, while trying to find his voice. Finally, he blubbered, "B-But no one said nothing about no pajama-hero--"
"Didn't you bother to read the mission brief you were given? It clearly stated that--!" Mercy began.
"--That if you tried to gain a foothold in Bludhaven, you'd have to deal with Nightwing!" Another voice interrupted from behind them. MacElvany and Mercy both whipped around towards the intruder--Lindsey! Smirking, he took a step forward. "I believe that Chief Redhorne did warn you on that matter."
"What are you doing here, McDonald?" Mercy asked coldly. "How did you get in here?"
He dangled a set of house keys and nodded at MacElvany. The smaller man immediately began uselessly searching his pockets in awkward panic. "My k-keys...! Miss M-Mercy...m-m-my keys--they're gone!"
At the mention of her name in Lindsey's presence--again!--Mercy grabbed the squatty little man by the shirt front and threw him across the room. The hapless MacElvany luckily landed on an easy chair. Lucky for you, Insect, that Mr. Luthor holds you in such high regard. But soon...
Looking as if he were thoroughly enjoying the little scene of domestic bliss being played out before him, Lindsey tossed the keys to her. Wordlessly, Mercy caught them. For a long moment, they stood unmoving, staring, each openly assessing the other.
Mercy didn't ask him how long he'd been there, listening, and Lindsey didn't tell her. She'd have to assume the worst, of course. Eyes narrowed, she glared at him, taking in his easy, charming smile. She didn't trust those false, disingenuous looks, anymore than she trusted his vampire girlfriend.
In fact, she also didn't trust his shady law firm, Wolfram and Hart. She knew they had their own agenda beyond what they'd been contracted for. Soon, I will force McDonald and the vampire to tell me what I want to know, or I'll kill them. Remembering that McDonald might have overheard the Insect's utterance of Mr. Luthor's name, she gave a mental smile.
Perhaps I'll kill them both anyway.
"I'm here as the service representative of my firm," Lindsey said easily. "We at Wolfram and Hart have only our clients' best interests at heart. And it's my job--as the firm's representative--to ensure customer satisfaction. Remember who provided the Merodach demon for your little, uh, experiments." He smiled his charming, boyish smile, and then pointed at the monitor, becoming smug.
"Of course, if MediTech--the company your people sub-contracted--happens to be so careless as to let the demon escape...well, my firm can hardly be held responsible."
The tension in the room went up another notch as the Merodach demon's rampage inside Section 9 continued. Its strength and heat vision was proving to be almost too much for the young hero, Nightwing. Nonetheless, when Nightwing threw his Batarangs, destroying the cryogenic canisters, Lindsey quirked an eyebrow in admiration.
Although Nightwing was desperately fighting a defensive battle, he was succeeding in holding the demon to a draw. The Dark Knight has trained his young Squire well, Mercy mused. It was her turn to smile. Everything is going exactly as planned.
Her boss always chose his battlefields carefully.
"Redhorne did say that Nightwing was not a meta-human, didn't he?" Lindsey asked doubtfully. At that moment, Nightwing was blindsided by one of the creature's heat beams.
"Nightwing is a talented fighter and athlete," Mercy replied, "but as you can see, he is no meta-human. The Merodach demon will undoubtedly make short work of him." She grabbed MacElvany by the arm. "Come. We have business to attend to."
Without a backward glance, she strode outside to the rooftop helipad, oblivious to whether MacElvany followed or not. Shrugging apologetically at Lindsey, the little 'Insect' scurried after her. He made it to the waiting helicopter just in time. The aircraft was airborne even as he struggled to shut the passenger-side door.
Lindsey watched as the helicopter rose gracefully in the air and then banked into the breaking dawn. As it disappeared in the distance, he thought about Harmony and grinned.
"Nice to see that I'm not the only one stuck with a partner who's dead from the neck up." Feeling upbeat, Lindsey turned back to the monitor; however, as the battle raged on in Section 9, his grin slowly disappeared. The next instant, it was replaced with an ugly scowl, a mere reflection of the hatred that consumed him.
"I don't believe it..." he muttered, unconsciously grabbing his prosthetic hand. "Angel!"
****
Bludhaven: the Corporate Offices of MediTech
Section 9: Special Projects Unit
[Friday 0700hrs EST]
****
The nausea passed almost as soon as the world rematerialized around him. His unspent rage magnified by a slight feeling of disorientation, Angelus searched for something--anything--to strike. At a shouted warning--"Look out!"--Angel leaped instinctively.
A loud crash from somewhere close by told him that the wall he'd just been standing next to collapsed. Somersaulting in midair, he landed next to a prone figure lying underneath the rubble. Nightwing? The young hero groaned. He was dazed but conscious, probably struck by part of the wall as it fell on top of him.
Angel quickly turned in the direction of a piercingly loud screech. Lumbering towards them in a familiar clumsy gait was a--
Angel did a double take.
"A Merodach demon?!" he shouted in surprise. Those creatures usually inhabited dark, shadowy places, avoiding brightly lit areas whenever possible. Which is why Angel was familiar with them. Vampires and Merodachs tended to compete for the same living space. However, unlike vampires, Merodach demons weren't vulnerable to sunlight. They only shied from it.
Giving Nightwing a hand up, Angel placed an arm around him for support. The next instant they were running towards the nearest exit--a set of glass double doors less than 30 feet away. Another shriek announced that the Merodach was getting closer.
Risking a glance over his shoulder, Angel saw that the spot they'd just vacated was a hot, burning inferno. Desperately, he urged Nightwing on. Despite his weakened state, the younger hero struggled valiantly to keep up.
Just as they reached the doors, a white-hot heat beam struck the wall to their immediate right. Instantly, the concrete reinforced wall blackened, turned red-hot, white-hot, and then slowly began wavering as it melted into slag.
"Other side...hurry..." Nightwing mumbled. His softly spoken whisper gave his request an even greater sense of urgency. Angel immediately complied, squeezing them both through the narrow opening. "Shut...doors..." Nightwing urged.
Propping Nightwing against one of the heavy, reinforced concrete walls that ran on either side of the doors, Angel did as ordered. No sooner did he start pushing the doors shut, than the Merodach again targeted them with his heat vision. As the transparent doors slammed into each other, the monster's heat beams splayed against them, bouncing off without effect.
Angel stared in surprise, and then glanced back towards the maddened Merodach who was now less than fifteen meters away. The beast flashed his heat beams in wild abandonment, further collapsing more of the ceiling and the corridor walls all around him.
"How come we're not fried right now?" Angel asked, thoughtfully running his finger along the glass doors.
"Lead," Nightwing explained succinctly, struggling to his feet. "The doors are made from a lead-based titanium alloy."
"Hey! What are you doing?" Angel asked, instantly at his side.
"I said the doors are made of lead," Nightwing gasped. "I didn't say Kryptonite. They'll never hold him. Come on...We've gotta get out of here."
"Why would Kryptonite affect a Merodach demon?" Angel asked confused.
"A what demon?"
"Merodach," Angel snapped. "And come to think of it...what's with the heat beams? Merodachs are touch telepaths, not--"
Nightwing looked at him blankly. "They're what telepaths?"
"Touch telepaths," Angel repeated impatiently. "They have to touch their victims in order to be able to read their minds."
"Oh." Nightwing shrugged. "That doesn't sound so bad."
"Did I forget the part about how they eat their victims' brains in order to get a good reading?"
"Oh," Nightwing repeated, digesting the information. "We so need to get out of this place. Say...? How did you get here anyway?"
But Angel wasn't listening. When he was certain that Nightwing could stand on his own, he'd released him and began studying the transparent doors in earnest. Now, he was standing solidly in front of the doors, his fingertips lightly touching the titanium/lead alloy.
Eyes on the Merodach demon Angel began intoning the ancient rune, the long-lost demon-controlling spell of Braxta. Almost instantly, a strange whirling indigo light formed at his fingertips.
"What are you doing?" Nightwing asked, nervously eyeing the ever-approaching, rampaging demon. "Did I mention getting out of here?"
However, Angel continued with his recitation, oblivious to anything else.
Soon, the swirling blue light became a bright vortex, which quickly grew to a size that threatened to swallow the doors before them. By now, Nightwing realized that Angel was magically calling forth an inter-dimensional portal. Unfortunately, the mystical gateway seemed ready to destroy their only protection from the creature's heat vision.
"Uh, Angel," Nightwing said with false calm. "Those doors are the only thing between us and that monster that can stop its heat vision. I don't think it's such a good idea to send them to another dimension at this time." He looked beyond the strange distortion that was being caused by the whirling light show. The demon's rage was increasing with each word that Angel uttered.
"Oh, that's nice...now you've made it mad." The beast was running in its strange, shuffling gait directly towards them and the vortex, arms outstretched, roaring its frenzy.
"No...You've made it madder. Than it was before, that is. Nice going."
Angel raised his voice above the din. As the Merodach approached the outer fringes of the vortex, Angel spread his arms wide and shouted the final words of the incantation. Waving his arms in a grandly sweeping motion, Angel literally threw the whirling vortex in the direction of the demon.
Instantly, the bright indigo light and most of the litter that lined the corridor were sucked into the whirlpool, and the entire inter-dimensional portal disappeared.
Angel and Nightwing stood stock still, stunned by the unexpected silence.
"What was that?" Nightwing asked in low, awed tones. "What did you do?"
"Uh...um--" Angel looked nonplussed. "It's a controlling spell. I ordered the Merodach back to its own dimension." The two heroes stared, wide-eyed across the transparent doors. The Merodach demon--albeit confused and subdued, but very much still there--stared back at them.
Nightwing shook his head.
"I don't think it worked," he said unnecessarily.
As if Nightwing's words were a signal, the infuriated monster sprang into action, throwing itself at the transparent doors, pounding them, his shrieks going up yet another octave.
Angel swallowed.
"Uh-oh."
****
End of Part 9