Disclaimer: This is based on chars created by DC Comics. The ones you don't recognize are probably mine, but I don't own this story, just so that's clear (in case you missed it the first time.). Also, the song used in the last chapter belongs to Eminem.
A/N: Just so you know, Natalie does NOT know about her parents being a part of the JLA, i.e., Batgirl and Nightwing. That was a flub I'll fix when I get around to it. In the meantime…more!
Natalie eventually convinced Roy that no, she wasn't going to vandalize downtown Gotham. Or play with her lighter by torching trash cans. Or steal cars. Or assault anyone. It was the usual negative list she had to give him. Hell, her mother was Commissioner, after all. Never mind that her birthfather was one of the heads of Interpol.
She made her way down to the warehouse on the Gotham docks that she and her friends rented jointly. It was where they congregated after school, and where Natalie had her art studio and a small sectioned off space for her to rehearse for her audition at Julliard. I don't know how Twitch got me to agree to try out, she thought. It's not like I'd belong there. I don't belong anywhere. She heard the high-pitched tones of electrical wiring inside and grinned as she opened the door. He had beaten her.
"Hey, man. How many times have you been electrocuted now?"
The short, wiry blonde grinned, putting the wires of a small motor down and walking over. "Se--Seventeen times." He replied, twitching. "So how's my Torch?" He hugged her.
"Good. How's the twitch?"
"Never better! Haha!" Twitch tended to laugh. Something left over from his most recent electrocution, something to do with him trying to rig a small generator while the power was on. The jolt had knocked him out for a few hours, and to this day, his hair seemed to stand on end. A little gel made it presentable, but there was no getting it flat. "Cord--dell Carleton III is going places!"
"I can't believe your parents named you that." Natalie replied. "You don't look like Cordell Carleton III."
He twitched, then shrugged. "What can I say--haha!--it's been in the family for gen--erations." He went back to the table that had all kinds of motor parts and spare wires spread over it. "Besides, you don't look like Natalie Elaine G--gordon Grayson."
Natalie winced. She hated it when people used her full name. "I prefer Torch." Almost absentmindedly, she dug into her pack and pulled out her lighter. Flicking back the lid, she lit it and ran her hand through it, smiling a little in silent pleasure as the flame licked her fingers. A slow, hot burn spread across the palm of her hand; on reflex she flinched, but from ease of practice, and partial enjoyment, she kept it there.
"Damn, I'm never used to seeing you--do that."
"Yo! Natalya, Twitch! You in here?"
Natalie smiled and shut her lighter; Rab had arrived. "Yeah, old man! Where you been?"
A tall, muscular black man with short dreadlocks and a goatee came over from around the corner and grinned. "Who you callin' old man, sister?"
"23 is old, Rab."
"Yeah, whatever." He shook his head. "So, we gonna see this audition routine?"
"I just got here."
"So?" Twitch grinned. "We wanna see. Come on, we won't say--anything!"
"What's the track you're using?" Rab asked.
"Eminem's "Lose Yourself.""
"How do you dance to rap?" Twitch teased.
"Oh, shut up, bastard." Natalie said. "Fine. But so help me God if one of you laughs I'll torch your ass." She walked over to the makeshift bench and unlaced her boots. Her soft-toe shoes were in a box underneath and she slid them on easily. Why was it so painful to do it? She wanted to forget about dancing, about how good it felt to just let go of all her problems. That was what had started this whole mess anyway. She'd met Twitch and Rab, Diego and Mara when she was fourteen, a freshman looking for a way to take out her frustration at her birthfather on society. She hadn't wanted to necessarily break the law, she loved her mother too much to do that to her. But she'd been young and stupid, and a dancer, with a body that was as muscled as it was curvy.
She fell into the company of a senior named Josh, although he went by his gang name, Benz, when he noticed her after school in the gym, running through a modern routine. She'd never had the kind of attention that Josh gave her from anyone before, and she found that yes, she liked it. That same week, she met a transfer student from Juvee named Diego, who obviously had something on Benz, although he wouldn't say anything. He just said that she should stay away from him.
Natalie took him at his word and began to watch Benz, analyzing his character with an eye as objective as a trained profiler's. She did the same with Diego, not sure if he was saying this to slander Benz, but found that she liked him more and more. But she didn't see him as anything more than a good, solid friend, whatever his rap sheet might be. Through Diego, she eventually she met Twitch, and then Mara, a sophomore who was addicted to men and their pleasures. Natalie knew then that she was probably going to pay for it someday, but she had no idea how right she would be. She continued to befriend them and Benz, enjoying the attention they gave her as a person, as a dancer, whatever. It was still attention.
Then Benz asked her to join his gang one night, to get in on the heroin smuggling they were doing. He promised a tidy profit, as well as his protection. But, staying true to all that her mother had taught her as Commissioner of Gotham City, she told him no way in hell was she going to be a dealer, and the repercussions of going to see him alone weren't good. All because she'd been dancing that first afternoon…
A/N: I'm doing this as I go--I know her little history but I don't want to give it all up in one go, that would just bite the big one…please read and review! Lemme know if you want anything done!
A/N: Just so you know, Natalie does NOT know about her parents being a part of the JLA, i.e., Batgirl and Nightwing. That was a flub I'll fix when I get around to it. In the meantime…more!
Natalie eventually convinced Roy that no, she wasn't going to vandalize downtown Gotham. Or play with her lighter by torching trash cans. Or steal cars. Or assault anyone. It was the usual negative list she had to give him. Hell, her mother was Commissioner, after all. Never mind that her birthfather was one of the heads of Interpol.
She made her way down to the warehouse on the Gotham docks that she and her friends rented jointly. It was where they congregated after school, and where Natalie had her art studio and a small sectioned off space for her to rehearse for her audition at Julliard. I don't know how Twitch got me to agree to try out, she thought. It's not like I'd belong there. I don't belong anywhere. She heard the high-pitched tones of electrical wiring inside and grinned as she opened the door. He had beaten her.
"Hey, man. How many times have you been electrocuted now?"
The short, wiry blonde grinned, putting the wires of a small motor down and walking over. "Se--Seventeen times." He replied, twitching. "So how's my Torch?" He hugged her.
"Good. How's the twitch?"
"Never better! Haha!" Twitch tended to laugh. Something left over from his most recent electrocution, something to do with him trying to rig a small generator while the power was on. The jolt had knocked him out for a few hours, and to this day, his hair seemed to stand on end. A little gel made it presentable, but there was no getting it flat. "Cord--dell Carleton III is going places!"
"I can't believe your parents named you that." Natalie replied. "You don't look like Cordell Carleton III."
He twitched, then shrugged. "What can I say--haha!--it's been in the family for gen--erations." He went back to the table that had all kinds of motor parts and spare wires spread over it. "Besides, you don't look like Natalie Elaine G--gordon Grayson."
Natalie winced. She hated it when people used her full name. "I prefer Torch." Almost absentmindedly, she dug into her pack and pulled out her lighter. Flicking back the lid, she lit it and ran her hand through it, smiling a little in silent pleasure as the flame licked her fingers. A slow, hot burn spread across the palm of her hand; on reflex she flinched, but from ease of practice, and partial enjoyment, she kept it there.
"Damn, I'm never used to seeing you--do that."
"Yo! Natalya, Twitch! You in here?"
Natalie smiled and shut her lighter; Rab had arrived. "Yeah, old man! Where you been?"
A tall, muscular black man with short dreadlocks and a goatee came over from around the corner and grinned. "Who you callin' old man, sister?"
"23 is old, Rab."
"Yeah, whatever." He shook his head. "So, we gonna see this audition routine?"
"I just got here."
"So?" Twitch grinned. "We wanna see. Come on, we won't say--anything!"
"What's the track you're using?" Rab asked.
"Eminem's "Lose Yourself.""
"How do you dance to rap?" Twitch teased.
"Oh, shut up, bastard." Natalie said. "Fine. But so help me God if one of you laughs I'll torch your ass." She walked over to the makeshift bench and unlaced her boots. Her soft-toe shoes were in a box underneath and she slid them on easily. Why was it so painful to do it? She wanted to forget about dancing, about how good it felt to just let go of all her problems. That was what had started this whole mess anyway. She'd met Twitch and Rab, Diego and Mara when she was fourteen, a freshman looking for a way to take out her frustration at her birthfather on society. She hadn't wanted to necessarily break the law, she loved her mother too much to do that to her. But she'd been young and stupid, and a dancer, with a body that was as muscled as it was curvy.
She fell into the company of a senior named Josh, although he went by his gang name, Benz, when he noticed her after school in the gym, running through a modern routine. She'd never had the kind of attention that Josh gave her from anyone before, and she found that yes, she liked it. That same week, she met a transfer student from Juvee named Diego, who obviously had something on Benz, although he wouldn't say anything. He just said that she should stay away from him.
Natalie took him at his word and began to watch Benz, analyzing his character with an eye as objective as a trained profiler's. She did the same with Diego, not sure if he was saying this to slander Benz, but found that she liked him more and more. But she didn't see him as anything more than a good, solid friend, whatever his rap sheet might be. Through Diego, she eventually she met Twitch, and then Mara, a sophomore who was addicted to men and their pleasures. Natalie knew then that she was probably going to pay for it someday, but she had no idea how right she would be. She continued to befriend them and Benz, enjoying the attention they gave her as a person, as a dancer, whatever. It was still attention.
Then Benz asked her to join his gang one night, to get in on the heroin smuggling they were doing. He promised a tidy profit, as well as his protection. But, staying true to all that her mother had taught her as Commissioner of Gotham City, she told him no way in hell was she going to be a dealer, and the repercussions of going to see him alone weren't good. All because she'd been dancing that first afternoon…
A/N: I'm doing this as I go--I know her little history but I don't want to give it all up in one go, that would just bite the big one…please read and review! Lemme know if you want anything done!