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I had never gone out as Batgirl before, and it was even more unusual to go out in the afternoon, but I had to find Harley and the Joker. I stopped the cycle at the light, and tried to ignore the college boys in the convertible to the right. The light changed, and I continued down Magnolia Avenue toward 31st street. Changing the resolution on the scanner, I looked ahead to try to locate where Harley's bag had been. The trace now had it downtown, in evidence storage. I signaled, and then turned left into a parking lot. The location had been just a few feet away. I parked the motorcycle, and got off to look.
I found one of Harley's 9mm shell casings, and bullet holes in a mailbox. I stood up and walked around the scene. Harley had crouched *here*, supporting the injured Joker. Yes, there were bloodstains about where his leg would have been. I moved aside a trash container, and found fragments of Harley's sewing bag, caught on some steel-reinforcing rod. I worked them off the rod, and slid it into a sample tube. It would probably have traces of her DNA. I took samples of Joker's blood, and also Harley's shell casing. I looked at the bullet holes in the mailbox. The police must have been over *there*, and yes, I could see bullet holes in the building's walls. I secured the samples in my bike, and walked over to take a look.
:: Harley's a lousy shot. :: I thought, as I stood on a car's hood, and pried out a slug from a hole. I dropped it into an evidence tube, then jumped off the hood, and looked at the scene from where the cops had been. I picked up a missed shell casing, and looked at it. :: A .38 short. Department issue. :: I mused. I turned and walked back to where Harley and Joker had been.
I looked around the scene again, examining the bloodstains. :: Let's see. Joker was hit over *here*, crawled behind the mailbox, returned fire from his custom .44 revolver. :: I counted the circles on the ground from the spent brass, which the cops had picked up. :: He reloaded at least once, then Harley supported him and they went *that* way. :: I added it to the other evidence in the bike, and followed the bloodstains, pulling out my list of possible safehouses to check.
I thought to myself, :: From the amount of blood I've seen, Joker's wound isn't life-threatening, but it's not a scratch, either. It's painful, and he's not one to lie quietly in bed. She may be looking for a doctor for him, or even medical supplies. :: I started the bike, and flipped to the page with this zip code. I rode toward the first possible location.
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The first building I checked was a seven-story walk-up with a broken elevator. While it was a possibility, the filthy condition of the lobby and the lack of blood spatter on the stairs, plus the fact that I didn't see Harley dragging her 'puddin' up two or more flights of stairs discounted it for me. Both Harley and Joker were too fastidious to tolerate these conditions.
I pulled up to the next building, and parked on the sidewalk. It was closer to Fraternity Row, and had several apartments; and was much cleaner, although the smell of marijuana was potent. I saw several apartments with window boxes holding the withered stems of plants. I took a deep breath of fresh air, and walked up to the front porch, where several students were hanging out.
"Hey, babe!" One of them said. "What's with the gray today?" He giggled at his own humor.
"Dude! That's like, Batchick, man! Where you been?" one said.
"Dude! Like, I'm from Metropolis, man. We get, like, Big Blue zoomin' around. No Bats." He took a hit on his cigarette, and offered it to me. "Take a toke, Batchick?" he offered.
I shook my head, and the local said, "Dude, you are seriously wacked. That chick is like, The Man. You don't offer the man a toke." He focused on me, and said, "What can we do for you, Ossifer?" He held the attentive pose for a few seconds, and then dissolved into giggles.
"I'm looking for Joker and Harley Quinn. Joker's been injured, they are probably in this area." I held out photos, and the local tried to focus on them.
"Oh, wow. That is seriously bad shit, Ossifer Batchick." The local said. He put his cigarette down, and tried to clear his head. He staggered away, and threw up in the bushes. He staggered back, and grabbed onto the railing for support, taking deep breaths.
"Dude, you got some bad weed? And, like, why are you helping Ossifer Batchick?" the other asked.
"Joker is like, a seriously, seriously bad dude, Dude. He'll kill ya slow for wearing the wrong color socks, and laugh about it while he's doin' it, man. If he's in the area, we are in deep, deep, deep shit. Really bad, deep shit. If Ossifer Batchick is going after Joker, we gotta help her, man. This goes way beyond cops and stoners, man." He took some more deep breaths, then asked, "Ossifer Batchick, what can you tell us? How can we help?"
The local didn't remember seeing them go by, but he admitted he had been in class at the time of the shootout. However, someone else had been there at the time, and may have seen them. He directed me to someone named 'Jared' in apartment 3b. I thanked him, and ran up the stairs.
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Jared was apparently the local grower; he had a quantity of plants in a bedroom, with grow lights and a hydroponic arrangement. I had to force my way in once he saw me, but once I mentioned the magic word 'Joker', he was willing to help. He had watched the Joker and Harley go down the street for about three blocks, until they had turned north on Jamaica Street and had been lost from sight. I thanked him, and added, "Jared, lose the plants. Quickly." I'd give him 24 hours.
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The local was admiring my motorcycle, while weaving slightly. I thanked him again, and started the bike. I checked my list, and there was one possibility on Jamaica Street. I put the bike in gear, and drove off.
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I parked the bike a few houses down and across the street from the target. :: This would be so much easier at night! :: I told myself. I sighed, and made myself as invisible as I could, wearing yellow gloves and knee boots with four-inch heels. :: What was Barbara thinking when she designed this outfit? :: I snuck up on the target house, doing a careful and stealthy reconnaissance. I saw one reason why Harley had chosen it; the second floor apartment had a separate entrance, a set of stairs in the back of the house. I completed my circuit of the house, and then did another one, reversing my path. This time I saw dark spots on the wooden stairs. I came closer, and touched one. Blood, still slightly tacky. I heard the creak of the door upstairs, and hid behind a bush.
"I'll be back shortly, Puddin'!" Harley called. I rolled my eyes. :: What an idiotic nickname! :: She clumped down the stairs, and walked toward the garage, fiddling with some keys. She unlocked the padlock, and grunted to pull one of the doors open. Bracing it in place, she got the other one open, and I saw a classic Mustang convertible. She adjusted her brown wig and dress, and entered the garage. I was right behind her.
"That's a really stupid nickname, Harley." I said. She jumped, and I touched the nerves in her neck. Her eyes rolled up, and she collapsed. I grinned to myself, gagged her, and secured her with bat-cuffs. Opening the trunk, I muscled her in, and got in to drive. The car had been backed in, so I simply drove off.
:: Now where? :: I asked myself. Joker would expect her back in no more than half an hour. I grinned, and thought of my friend Jared. I turned right, and headed that way.
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I pulled into the driveway, and jumped out. Popping the trunk, I pulled the still-sleeping Harley out, and muscled her into a fireman's carry. Grabbing her purse, I saw my friend the local was still on the front steps, and greeted me with a "How's they hangin', Ossifer Batchick?" He giggled.
"Pretty good. Meet Harley Quinn, also known as the Joker's girlfriend."
"Cool. What can we do for you, Ossifer Batchick?"
"I need someplace where I can secure my friend here for a while. Think Jared would mind if I borrowed one of his rooms?" He waved, and I walked up the steps to 3b again.
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
In Jared's bathroom, I carefully stripped Harley, searching her for weapons. Aside from the 9mm she had in her purse, she had nothing in her clothes or on her body. I left her sitting on the dirty floor in her underwear, with her hands back cuffed and with her ankles shackled behind the toilet. She wouldn't have leverage to escape, that way. I left her blindfolded, and removed her gag. I popped the wake-up capsule under her nose; just enough for her to answer questions, then threw it in the toilet. She moaned, and I asked, "Harley?"
"Puddin', not now, I got a headache."
"Harley, what were you getting? What were you getting for Puddin'?" I asked.
She moaned, and said, "Medicine. Food. Eggs and milk. Where's Puddin'?"
"Puddin' s outside. When were you due back?"
"Shortly. Five-ish." She yawned. I checked my watch, then gagged her again, and used another nerve pinch to put her back to sleep. Arranging her comfortably, I gathered up her things while she snored, and tiptoed out the door, although a herd of elephants wouldn't have woken her.
I closed the door to Jared's bathroom, and used a quick-lock on it to make sure Harley would be undisturbed. Jared was doing a land-office business, and I was ignored as I went into the kitchen. I piled some of Jared's groceries into a bag, and then pulled Harley's dress on over my batsuit. It was cool enough that she had chosen long sleeves and a long skirt. Picking up Harley's wig, I put it on over my cowl, and with her purse over my shoulder and groceries, I walked out.
"Jared." I stopped by the dealer, and said, "I borrowed some groceries. Here's forty bucks for them. Don't let anyone in your bathroom. Understood?"
"Yes, Ossifer Batchick. Wow, you look cool!" I snorted and took my leave.
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I took a deep breath, then, trying to imitate Harley's unique voice, I tromped up the stairs, yelling, "Puddin', I'm home!" I fumbled with the keys, sweating slightly, and then opened the door. I dropped the groceries on the kitchen table, and tiptoed into a quick search. Joker was snoring softly on the couch, his .44 in his hand, and the late afternoon news on TV. I popped a sleep capsule under his nose, and then gently removed the giant revolver from his grip. He shifted, and grabbed me, mumbling something. I waited, and then eased away from him. I ever so slowly stripped him, searching him for weapons, although his smiley-face boxers held a surprise. :: There's got to be another reason she stays with him! :: I thought. I gently replaced the boxers, and Joker turned in his sleep, sprawling bonelessly onto the floor.
:: Ah, well. Take advantage of the opportunity. :: I double-cuffed Joker's wrists and ankles, then examined his wound. :: Shot in the left thigh. :: I strapped a quick bandage on it, then sat him against the wall. I quickly checked the medicine cabinet, and found some elastic bandages. Rolling up one of Joker's socks, I stuffed it in his mouth, and then wrapped the elastic around his eyes and mouth. I got out of the dress and wig, and checked for anything else I would need. I pulled Joker into a fireman's carry, shoved his revolver in my belt, and staggered out the door, pulling it closed behind me. :: I've got to work on some strength training! :: I told myself.
***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***---***
I left Joker in the trunk while I went to retrieve Harley, asking the locals to watch and make sure nobody touched the Mustang. Going back up the stairs, I released Harley's feet and resecured them. Since I had left her dress in the safe house, I didn't bother to cover either one of them. Their modesty was a low priority to me. Waving good-bye to Jared, I carried her down, and added her to my little collection in the trunk. Lowering the roof, I waved, and drove off, cape and hair blowing in the breeze.
:: This is a nice car. Someone's done a lot of work on it. :: I pulled up at a light, and a motorcycle cop pulled up next to me. He did a double take, and said, "Hey, Batgirl! Long time no see! Where you been?"
"Off-planet." I said with a smile. The light changed, I waved, and drove off.
I waited for traffic, and then did a U-turn into the Batmobile's reserved space in front of the 25th precinct. A cop came up and said, "Hey, lady, you can't … " He stopped when I turned to smile at him.
"Officer DuPont, isn't it? And your partner is Miller, isn't she? Are you two just going on shift?" I asked. He nodded, and I saw Miller come down the steps. I crooked my finger at them, and walked back to the trunk. I asked them, "Want a bust?" Without waiting for an answer, I popped the trunk lid, and took a step back, waving at the contents. Miller looked in, and dropped her coffee.
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I hopped off the back of the motorcycle cop's bike, and gave him his spare helmet back. He turned, and said, "Man, what's that smell?"
"Local dopers around the corner. Do me a favor, and wait 24 hours before you discover them? They were a bunch of good citizens, and helped me a lot." I said with a smile.
"Ok. I won't see them when I drive by, then. Thanks, Batgirl, and have a good day!" He grinned, and sped off. I walked down the street to my bike, started the engine, and drove off.
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I pulled into the cave, and gassed the bike up. Setting my helmet on it, I walked over to the costume vault to shower and change. I was looking forward to visiting the Iceberg, and seeing what local reaction was to Batgirl's reappearance.
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I pulled my motorcycle into the Iceberg's parking lot, and pulled off my helmet, shaking out my hair. I waved at Sly behind the bar before strolling into the ladies' room. I opened a stall, and found Melinda, or as she was now calling herself, PomPom, sobbing into her hands.
"Hey. What's going on? Why are you crying?" I asked. She looked up and gave a muffled shriek, then tried to scamper away from me.
"Y… You're gonna k … kill me!" She babbled.
"She won't. I may, if you don't start talking." I turned, and saw Pamela.
I sighed, and said, "What are you doing here, Melinda? Why did you break out of jail?"
"I … I just ran with the rest of the girls when the wall got blown apart. I hated that place! I never want … to go b … back!" She blubbered.
"You aren't cut out for this. Go home." Pamela said, and I agreed with her.
"D … Daddy disowned me … I can't!"
"Oh, brother." Pamela said. Pamela continued, "Look. You've got two choices. You can either stay on the run, or you can give yourself up. The longer you're on the run, the higher the chance you're going to get picked up. You don't have the street smarts to survive long on the run, so you might as well give yourself up and go back to jail. I know it's not a pleasant place, but getting your throat slit here is more likely."
"Besides, you used my name as a reference." I added. "I don't like that. I'll forgive it this one time, but that's the only free ride you'll get out of me. Oswald will ask what I want done with you." I checked my watch, and then added, "I'll give you six hours to decide, until midnight, and then leave it up to him. He doesn't like employees that try to deceive him." I turned to leave, and then added, "Fix your makeup and costume before going back to work."
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"Little twit." Pamela said as she made her way to the bar.
"Wak, wak! Ladies, how are you doing?" Oswald asked.
"Fine, Oswald. Thank you for your help with that little 'project' of mine." I said. I added, "Pamela, I haven't had a chance to thank you or Harley yet for the photos and video. I was able to stop by this afternoon on the way to the doctor and pick them up."
"Anything wrong?" Pamela asked.
I shook my head. "Routine OB visit. Same one you go to, I believe."
"Wak, wak!" Oswald made to move off, and I said, "Oswald, I gave that little twit crying in your ladies' room until midnight to make up her mind. After that, she's yours. She used my name without my permission."
"I advised her to give herself up. She's not cut out for this life." Pamela said. She turned, and said, "What's the latest? I hear that Batgirl's reappeared."
"Wak, wak! You're right, my dear. I hear she bagged both Joker and Harley single-handedly. The story I heard was … "
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I got back to the manor about eight, grabbed another shower, and after wrapping myself in a robe, walked down to Sheila's room. I knocked, and heard her call "Come in!"
"Hi, Sheila. How'd your cases go?" I asked.
"Ah, so-so. Win some, lose some." She grinned, and said, "I did get one guy's charges dismissed. It's good, he's a really nice guy, and the charges were bogus. Anyway, what's up with you?"
"I really wanted to thank you for your advice about Dr. Phillips. He's going to call me with the results of the samples he took, but he didn't find anything wrong. By the way, I had in interesting meeting there with Harley and Joker." I said.
Sheila's eyes widened, and she asked, "Joker was there?"
"Yes. As you can guess, he was not particularly comfortable, but he had insisted on accompanying Harley. Someone dropped a dime on them, and the cops caught them." I changed the subject. "Want to go out with me tonight? Even though it's a 'school night'?" I grinned.
"Sure! I'm all caught up. Let me just get changed … "
"We get changed downstairs." I walked to the door, and made an 'after you' gesture.
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I took my Batgirl costume down, and started to pull on the leggings. Sheila ducked into the shower, and I heard it running. I looked at her folded costume, and made a decision. I pulled on the rest of the suit, and quickly walked out of the locker room.
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I stopped Sheila before she pulled on her Lantern outfit. I told her, "That ring you've got is fine for an office costume party. It won't cut it on the streets of Gotham. I've got a different costume for you."
"Okay. Who and why?"
"The who is Spoiler. You're about the same height, but she's a level six, so she's about your level of martial arts expertise. Anything like that comes along, let me take over, and you can assist. Why is because she uses a full face mask, and this way the cover story is that you're helping me get re-acquainted after I've been off planet." I said.
"And if Ms. Spoiler shows up?" Sheila asked.
"I doubt if she will. She's got classes." I grinned, and said, "I was thinking about checking out the University area first, and we'll see how things go. Ever ridden a motorcycle?"
Sheila got a wistful look, and said, "I used to on weekends when I was on active duty. I had to sell my Softail™ to cover part of law school. It's been a few years."
"You don't forget. I'll walk you through an equipment and comm check, then we'll hit the road."
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"How do I look?" Sheila asked.
"Good. You look real." I said. I asked, "Are you ready? Last step is a comm check."
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"Oracle. Comm check. Batgirl. I'm with Spoiler tonight."
"Read you five by. Why Spoiler?"
"Um. It's me. Sheila Hawking. How do you read me, Oracle?"
Oracle laughed. "Five by five, Spoiler. If the other one shows up, I'll keep her away from you. This is secure, encrypted communications. I'm Barbara. Selina will keep an eye out for you, but I want the story, you two! There are the usual minor things going on tonight. Oh, and by the way, Batgirl, nice catch of the Joker and Harley this afternoon. Want to start anyplace special?"
"I was thinking of the University area. Good place for Spoiler to get her feet wet." Sheila nodded, and I said, "Batgirl and Spoiler, out.
"Oracle out."
I mounted my motorcycle, and said, "C'mon. Let's roll."
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I stopped at a light, and asked, "How are you doing?"
"Fine so far. Any reason?"
"Undergrad housing and some private apartments are up ahead. Let's check it out, there's usually some muggers and attempted rapists around. There's also some broadcasting convention in town, so we can check the hotel areas over south of there." The light changed, and I goosed the throttle.
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Sheila said, "I was thinking of something. Hope you don't mind a question."
"Not at the moment. What is it?" I replied as I stopped at a light. I returned some sorority girls' waves, grinning to myself.
"I don't want to use Spoiler, permanently, of course. Know of anyone going by 'Justice'?" Sheila chuckled at the girls' squeals of excitement.
"Not that I know of. We can ask Oracle. She'd probably love to help you with the design. Just watch out for yellow." I grinned.
"What's wrong with yellow?" Oracle asked. "The convention is supposed to be letting out shortly, so you might want to head over to the hotel district. There's always lots of tourists, and lots of muggers and rapists."
"Yellow? Nothing, in the right places." I said. The light changed, and I goosed the Harley's engine.
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"By the way, there's a Dr. Justice in Europe, mostly the Eastern bloc." Oracle said. "Environmental and humanitarian work, primarily. He's even got a web site, which *some* of us don't see the need for. So, how do you two want to work this?"
"I was planning on parking, and maneuvering by jump line. Spoiler can cruise, and when either one of us sees something, we can use each other for distractions. Also, I'm an urban legend. I don't exist, so why would I need a web site?"
"That's fine by me. I love this bike!" Spoiler said.
"Some people, you just can't change their minds." Oracle sighed.
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I pulled into a parking lot, and activated the bike's security systems. I waved at the attendant, who called, "Nice to see you again, Batgirl!" I ran down the block, and into an alleyway between two hotels. Jumping, I grabbed the fire escape ladder, and started to climb.
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"I'm on the roof." I said. "I'm going to work southeast toward the convention center. I can see people starting to come out, so the muggers are going to have a good haul. Spoiler, you ready?"
"Let's do it."
I ran toward the edge of the roof, and jumped.
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Two women were walking past an alleyway, when a man stepped out with a rifle. I saw it from two blocks away, as they were herded into the alley. I called, "Spoiler. A man with a rifle just herded two women into an alleyway three blocks ahead of you on the left. I'll get in position, and you can distract them when you turn in. I'll drop in, and distract them from you."
I moved into place four stories above the alleyway, on the fire escape. The last quarter moon, and a few 40-watt bulbs lighted the alley. I called "Eight Dragons, four female suspects, and the two female victims." Spoiler pulled into the alleyway, high beams on, and everyone oriented toward her. I jumped, catching my cape, my shadow being cast by the moon. I dropped on the guy with the carbine, flipping a razor toward the other rifle, covering the two women. It sliced into the receiver of the gun, making it into an awkward club. I spun, and knocked the pistol out of one girl's hand, following it up with a right cross that knocked her out. I then spun and chopped another Dragon into unconsciousness. One of the two victims had used my distraction to take out a gang member with tae-kwon-do, while her companion was just letting loose a scream. Spoiler had taken out two others, leaving six to go. I flipped razors at the two with guns, jumped and kicked a chain-spinner's head, then snap-kicked one with a bleeding hand from the razor on the rebound. Eight down. The ninth was a female ganger with a bleeding hand, taken out by the fighting victim with a nice flurry of jabs. The other victim was just drawing breath for a second scream. Spoiler took out two others, leaving the gang leader the last one standing. The victim let her breath out, and I glanced at her, and said, "Welcome to Gotham City." I strode up to the gang leader, and said, "How's it going to be, Myoshi? Easy or hard?"
"Fuck you, Bat-bitch!" he screamed, starting to pull a gun. I shrugged, and rabbit-punched him, and he collapsed. I shrugged, and then heard a whistling sound above. I turned, and a blue blur showed in the night air. It coalesced into Superman, who lowered himself to the alley ground.
"Oracle, call the paddy wagon to this location. Twelve gang members for them." I turned to Superman, and asked, "What are you doing here?" I started to search and cuff the gang members, assisted by Spoiler, and when the victim asked, I passed her some plastic cuffs, so she could help.
"I got an emergency signal from Lois." He said. He asked her, "You all right?" She nodded.
I stood up, and told Superman, "Welcome to Gotham; now go home. Get a cat out of a tree or something. We've got work to do." I turned and ignored him, showing the victim how to search an unconscious body. I glanced at her. She was a strawberry blonde, petite figure, with a fading tan and freckles across her upturned nose. I told her, "You handled yourself well. Better than Ms. Lane."
"Thanks. I think it comes from growing up in this town. You never know what's going to come at you." She stood up, and said, "Welcome back. Where were you?" Her convention nametag read 'Gotham Broadcast and Media convention', and underneath it gave her name, Heather MacDonald, WGHO 'Shawna Foxx'.
"I've been off planet. I just got back a short time ago. By the way, I like your show." I told her.
"Oh, my god! Thank you! You don't know how it feels to be appreciated … err.. Um. God, that was stupid." She blushed, and said, "Why else would you do it?"
I grinned, and pulled a razor wing out of a gun. I glanced at it, and a tip was bent. I refolded it, and handed it to her. "Because I'm needed, and I can make a difference. Here. Souvenir. Be careful, it's very sharp. What did you think when we first showed up?" I inspected and stowed the other 'wings.
"I thought, 'Oh, thank God, a Bat!' and then I got angry, so I started fighting. Um, could I ask you to, um, autograph this?" Heather swallowed nervously.
I took the proffered marker, and scribbled 'Heather - Batgirl' and the date. I grinned, and said, "For what it's worth, aside from my cards, I think that's the first autograph I've given." I heard the sirens, and said, "We've got to go. Give a statement and the assorted weapons to the cops, and enjoy the rest of the convention." I called "Spoiler, let's go!" and fired a jump line to make a quick getaway.
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I had to give Superman credit. He stayed in Gotham and helped us out. By the end of the evening, we had accounted for a dozen failed armed robberies, muggings, and rapes in the convention center area. Superman had accounted for a few more by himself, although usually with more property damage. About three, I decided to call it a night. It was a 'school night', after all.
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We pulled into the cave, and parked the bikes. Sheila said, "Excuse me!" and ran off toward the locker rooms. I followed after her, and told the air in the lady's room, "Once you've finished, before you change, you do maintenance on your bike and on your uniform. That means refueling and maintenance on the bike, and restocking the expended supplies, changing batteries, and so forth. I'll be waiting for you with the bikes."
I was running a diagnostic on my bike when Sheila reappeared. She had removed her cape and mask, while I was still fully dressed. Sheila asked, "Don't you … need to?"
"Of course. However, I go by the old cavalry motto, 'The horse, the sword, and the man.' That means that I take care of my equipment, then my supplies, and then myself. This way I know it's done, the next time it's needed. My bladder can wait." I finished the diagnostic, and wheeled the bike over to refuel it. I asked, "Need some help?"
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### Chapter 25: Of Horses and Swords