"Terry, no. You're crazy to even think that's a good idea." Max was typing
furiously, hitting the Return key especially hard.
"I know, I know, but Max you should have seen her," Terry was pacing and rubbing the back of his neck. "I just can't let it go. She was so desperate. Plus, she's been so good for the last five years. You'd think Melanie was a girl scout."
"Yeah, a girl scout who's also a convicted felon," Max retorted. She could feel her blood rising as the Batcave suddenly felt warm. "The thing is, even though she's 'reformed' now, she has a long history of lawlessness. She comes from a crime family." Max turned from the huge monitor and faced him squarely. Her voice softened. "Sometimes, not matter how you try, you just can't shake your past. I really don't want you to get burned, Ter."
Terry looked up at the ceiling and recited to Max the argument he made to himself hours earlier. "All the stuff you're condemning her for was only, like, 5% her fault. Melanie didn't choose to be born into the Royal Flush Gang - the world chose her. And that's precisely why she deserves this chance. And before you bring it up, that last job she pulled - to save her family - that doesn't even count." He straightened his shirt and picked up his attaché. "OK, off to my day job. I'll be back around six. Is that enough time for you to get me what I need?" Max spun back to the computer with a loud sigh.
"Yes dear. But will you at least think about what I said?" Keyboard clicks echoed through the Batcave. Max was no longer abusing the Return key. In fact, she was smiling at how much they sounded like an old married couple.
"Yeah," he called back over his shoulder, halfway in the car. "But I already set it up this morning." Quickly he slammed the door and started the engine.
"Damnit Terry!" She shouted at the departing car. McGinnis grinned in the rearview as Max, flipping him the bird with both hands, disappeared from view.
++++++++++
The employee phone at Quinzel's Diner was in the kitchen, which had an average temperature of about 110 degrees. Melanie hurried to it, setting down a tray of leftover pancakes before picking up the warm, shiny receiver. "Hello?"
It wasn't Jack. In fact she didn't recognize the voice at all. This can't be good, she thought. "Yes, this is Sarah Givens from Wayne Enterprises. Am I speaking to Melanie Walker?"
Who? "Yeah, that's me. Um, I can't really talk right now, and my break isn't for another hour," although it was nice to stop walking for a moment, she thought.
"No problem, I'll make it fast then," the voice remained friendly. "I'm calling because the Purchasing department needs a new administrative assistant, and Terry McGinnis recommended you. We like to take employee referrals. Anyway, it's an entry-level position with opportunity to.."
Oh. My. God. Melanie had to put a hand over her mouth to contain her broadening smile. The voice continued, "So Melanie, are you interested?"
+++++++++++++++
Terry and Sarah only knew each other professionally, but it was enough. Bruce Wayne had asked Sarah to "watch over" Terry when he started taking on responsibilities at WE over three years ago. She accepted the request warily. Most young, gifted and well-connected assistants she encountered seemed to enjoy snubbing single-mom wage slaves like herself, and she was more than sick of it. However, this was the first favor Mr. Wayne ever asked of her, and anyway, who would refuse him? So, whenever Terry slipped up, she managed to cover for him until he could set it right. Sarah quietly coached him on who to avoid, who to compliment, and who would get the job done around WE. She even passed useful gossip when needed. But unlike most backstabbing exec-types, Terry seemed grateful, humble and genuine. This won Sarah over.
She always suspected it was Terry who noticed the bruises on her wrists that morning, and contacted Dana Tan at Safe Harbor Women's Shelter for her. When all her closer friends felt too uncomfortable to acknowledge the abuse, this mere coworker took the step needed to help her finally leave her boyfriend. This small gesture of compassion left Sarah grateful beyond words. In that moment, Terry became her angel. So when he asked Sarah for this "huge favor," she simply nodded and commented, "in different circumstances, that could be any of us. Will she need work clothes?"
++++++++++++++++
Batman circled over Cuvier's old laboratory, scanning for heat readings. For a condemned building, it had a remarkable amount of activity. "Hey Mac, are you seeing this? Looks like elves before Christmas." He landed on a darkened ledge outside a third floor window, and activated the suit's cloaking device.
"You're right, very busy." Max's voice was low in his cowl. "Listen for New World Industries. That's where the wire transfer came from." He put his fingers to the window, listening to the conversation on the other side of the glass. Before he got anything, Batman was knocked down. The blow deafened his left ear. Disoriented, he didn't see the sharp kick to his kidneys coming. Terry instinctively rolled out of the way, jumping to his feet as fast as his body would respond. Head still pounding, he looked around wildly for his attacker. "On your left - block him!" shouted Mac. She was still watching the Batsuit's visual feed. He quickly threw up a forearm block as a blow crashed down on it, numbing his fingertips. As much as I hate retreats, thought Terry, it sure beats the hell out of this ass- whupping. He dove off the ledge, boot jets flashing. But before he could get very far, he was yanked back by the ankle like a rag doll. Terry thrashed wildly to escape, and then heard a familiar roar. Max sent the Batmobile, he thought with some relief. But as the vehicle neared and the cockpit opened, he was stunned to see a dark figure rise out. Wide-eyed, he could only watch as the shadow figure clubbed his attacker on the back of the head, stunning him just long enough to grab Terry and pull him into the safety of the Batmobile.
The canopy barely closed. "Who the hell are you?!" Terry shouted. He was still breathing hard, and his body ached. The figure pulled the mask away, revealing Max's face in the light of the Batmobile's dashboard. She put up a hand.
"You needed the help, OK? Before you say anything, please. The pressure readings from the suit were off the charts, and I thought, if I don't come in and bail you out, you'd be in some serious trouble." Her hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush, and also in anticipation of Terry's vehement disapproval.
"Max, you crossed a line tonight. I don't want you out there! We've been through this. I mean, what don't you understand? You don't have a suit like this, you could have gotten killed, and besides, you know I need you at the console - not out here!" The words could barely get out of Terry's mouth fast enough. His mind was racing with angry thoughts.
"Hey look, a little GRATITUDE might be nice, Ter! Don't forget I just saved your ass out there," she glanced back at him, eyes blazing, "and who knows what would have happened with you out there alone."
Terry definitely didn't want to get Max mad. After all, she was probably right. Besides, if the old guy's not at the console, then Max would be the only one he'd trust to the job. "Whoa, sorry, Max. You're right, you did save my ass, and I didn't even thank you. Look, I'm yelling not so much because I'm mad, but because I don't want something to happen to you. I'd feel responsible, no matter if it's your decision and all that." Terry hoped this would appease her. This would be his second retreat tonight. Max just sighed. She was still mad, and his retreat didn't do shit.
"You know, I'm getting a little sick of playing little Miss Nice, asking to play Batgirl. If my job is to help you, then I just see this as part of my job. OK? Most of the time, you need me at the console. But tonight, you needed me here. It's not like the original Batman didn't have helpers," she said, and added with a half-smile, "and I'd be so much cooler to have around than some circus kid." Terry smiled back, relieved that she could joke now. He reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder.
"OK, OK. Point taken. Thanks for doing what you needed to do. I guess your job is a little thankless, huh?" He leaned back as much as the cramped cockpit would allow. "But this is not over. We have a lot to talk about, before the next time you come popping out of the Batmobile." Terry sighed and pushed the cowl back from his face. "So who was that guy that attacked me? You have any ideas?" Max just looked straight ahead as she drove the Batmobile home. She was thrilled to finally be behind the wheel of this vehicle.
"No guesses yet. I think the three of us have to sit down and analyze the Batsuit data first for some clues. Whatever's going on," she glanced back at him, "they don't want you poking around."
++++++++++++++++++++++
(author)
OK, this was a little hard to write after the first chap. It felt different - less self-contained? Less poetic? Something, but it bothers me a little. I'll probably revise it a little down the road. Again, any criticism is welcome.
"I know, I know, but Max you should have seen her," Terry was pacing and rubbing the back of his neck. "I just can't let it go. She was so desperate. Plus, she's been so good for the last five years. You'd think Melanie was a girl scout."
"Yeah, a girl scout who's also a convicted felon," Max retorted. She could feel her blood rising as the Batcave suddenly felt warm. "The thing is, even though she's 'reformed' now, she has a long history of lawlessness. She comes from a crime family." Max turned from the huge monitor and faced him squarely. Her voice softened. "Sometimes, not matter how you try, you just can't shake your past. I really don't want you to get burned, Ter."
Terry looked up at the ceiling and recited to Max the argument he made to himself hours earlier. "All the stuff you're condemning her for was only, like, 5% her fault. Melanie didn't choose to be born into the Royal Flush Gang - the world chose her. And that's precisely why she deserves this chance. And before you bring it up, that last job she pulled - to save her family - that doesn't even count." He straightened his shirt and picked up his attaché. "OK, off to my day job. I'll be back around six. Is that enough time for you to get me what I need?" Max spun back to the computer with a loud sigh.
"Yes dear. But will you at least think about what I said?" Keyboard clicks echoed through the Batcave. Max was no longer abusing the Return key. In fact, she was smiling at how much they sounded like an old married couple.
"Yeah," he called back over his shoulder, halfway in the car. "But I already set it up this morning." Quickly he slammed the door and started the engine.
"Damnit Terry!" She shouted at the departing car. McGinnis grinned in the rearview as Max, flipping him the bird with both hands, disappeared from view.
++++++++++
The employee phone at Quinzel's Diner was in the kitchen, which had an average temperature of about 110 degrees. Melanie hurried to it, setting down a tray of leftover pancakes before picking up the warm, shiny receiver. "Hello?"
It wasn't Jack. In fact she didn't recognize the voice at all. This can't be good, she thought. "Yes, this is Sarah Givens from Wayne Enterprises. Am I speaking to Melanie Walker?"
Who? "Yeah, that's me. Um, I can't really talk right now, and my break isn't for another hour," although it was nice to stop walking for a moment, she thought.
"No problem, I'll make it fast then," the voice remained friendly. "I'm calling because the Purchasing department needs a new administrative assistant, and Terry McGinnis recommended you. We like to take employee referrals. Anyway, it's an entry-level position with opportunity to.."
Oh. My. God. Melanie had to put a hand over her mouth to contain her broadening smile. The voice continued, "So Melanie, are you interested?"
+++++++++++++++
Terry and Sarah only knew each other professionally, but it was enough. Bruce Wayne had asked Sarah to "watch over" Terry when he started taking on responsibilities at WE over three years ago. She accepted the request warily. Most young, gifted and well-connected assistants she encountered seemed to enjoy snubbing single-mom wage slaves like herself, and she was more than sick of it. However, this was the first favor Mr. Wayne ever asked of her, and anyway, who would refuse him? So, whenever Terry slipped up, she managed to cover for him until he could set it right. Sarah quietly coached him on who to avoid, who to compliment, and who would get the job done around WE. She even passed useful gossip when needed. But unlike most backstabbing exec-types, Terry seemed grateful, humble and genuine. This won Sarah over.
She always suspected it was Terry who noticed the bruises on her wrists that morning, and contacted Dana Tan at Safe Harbor Women's Shelter for her. When all her closer friends felt too uncomfortable to acknowledge the abuse, this mere coworker took the step needed to help her finally leave her boyfriend. This small gesture of compassion left Sarah grateful beyond words. In that moment, Terry became her angel. So when he asked Sarah for this "huge favor," she simply nodded and commented, "in different circumstances, that could be any of us. Will she need work clothes?"
++++++++++++++++
Batman circled over Cuvier's old laboratory, scanning for heat readings. For a condemned building, it had a remarkable amount of activity. "Hey Mac, are you seeing this? Looks like elves before Christmas." He landed on a darkened ledge outside a third floor window, and activated the suit's cloaking device.
"You're right, very busy." Max's voice was low in his cowl. "Listen for New World Industries. That's where the wire transfer came from." He put his fingers to the window, listening to the conversation on the other side of the glass. Before he got anything, Batman was knocked down. The blow deafened his left ear. Disoriented, he didn't see the sharp kick to his kidneys coming. Terry instinctively rolled out of the way, jumping to his feet as fast as his body would respond. Head still pounding, he looked around wildly for his attacker. "On your left - block him!" shouted Mac. She was still watching the Batsuit's visual feed. He quickly threw up a forearm block as a blow crashed down on it, numbing his fingertips. As much as I hate retreats, thought Terry, it sure beats the hell out of this ass- whupping. He dove off the ledge, boot jets flashing. But before he could get very far, he was yanked back by the ankle like a rag doll. Terry thrashed wildly to escape, and then heard a familiar roar. Max sent the Batmobile, he thought with some relief. But as the vehicle neared and the cockpit opened, he was stunned to see a dark figure rise out. Wide-eyed, he could only watch as the shadow figure clubbed his attacker on the back of the head, stunning him just long enough to grab Terry and pull him into the safety of the Batmobile.
The canopy barely closed. "Who the hell are you?!" Terry shouted. He was still breathing hard, and his body ached. The figure pulled the mask away, revealing Max's face in the light of the Batmobile's dashboard. She put up a hand.
"You needed the help, OK? Before you say anything, please. The pressure readings from the suit were off the charts, and I thought, if I don't come in and bail you out, you'd be in some serious trouble." Her hands were shaking from the adrenaline rush, and also in anticipation of Terry's vehement disapproval.
"Max, you crossed a line tonight. I don't want you out there! We've been through this. I mean, what don't you understand? You don't have a suit like this, you could have gotten killed, and besides, you know I need you at the console - not out here!" The words could barely get out of Terry's mouth fast enough. His mind was racing with angry thoughts.
"Hey look, a little GRATITUDE might be nice, Ter! Don't forget I just saved your ass out there," she glanced back at him, eyes blazing, "and who knows what would have happened with you out there alone."
Terry definitely didn't want to get Max mad. After all, she was probably right. Besides, if the old guy's not at the console, then Max would be the only one he'd trust to the job. "Whoa, sorry, Max. You're right, you did save my ass, and I didn't even thank you. Look, I'm yelling not so much because I'm mad, but because I don't want something to happen to you. I'd feel responsible, no matter if it's your decision and all that." Terry hoped this would appease her. This would be his second retreat tonight. Max just sighed. She was still mad, and his retreat didn't do shit.
"You know, I'm getting a little sick of playing little Miss Nice, asking to play Batgirl. If my job is to help you, then I just see this as part of my job. OK? Most of the time, you need me at the console. But tonight, you needed me here. It's not like the original Batman didn't have helpers," she said, and added with a half-smile, "and I'd be so much cooler to have around than some circus kid." Terry smiled back, relieved that she could joke now. He reached out a hand and squeezed her shoulder.
"OK, OK. Point taken. Thanks for doing what you needed to do. I guess your job is a little thankless, huh?" He leaned back as much as the cramped cockpit would allow. "But this is not over. We have a lot to talk about, before the next time you come popping out of the Batmobile." Terry sighed and pushed the cowl back from his face. "So who was that guy that attacked me? You have any ideas?" Max just looked straight ahead as she drove the Batmobile home. She was thrilled to finally be behind the wheel of this vehicle.
"No guesses yet. I think the three of us have to sit down and analyze the Batsuit data first for some clues. Whatever's going on," she glanced back at him, "they don't want you poking around."
++++++++++++++++++++++
(author)
OK, this was a little hard to write after the first chap. It felt different - less self-contained? Less poetic? Something, but it bothers me a little. I'll probably revise it a little down the road. Again, any criticism is welcome.