Terry started yelling when the words came from Bruce Wayne's mouth about their newest problem.

"Spellbinder and the Love Doctor? On the run? Together? Come on!"

Ace lifted his head and barked at the young master. Wayne pulled up the news transmission from Commissioner Barbara Gordon to the Gotham P.D., "I've been listening to the reports on the scanner all morning. It came a few hours ago."

Terry felt his jaw work out of place, "Why would they escape with each other?"

Wayne rubbed the bottom of his chin thoughtfully, Ace came to his heels.

"Well, they're both psychologists and thieves using inanimate objects for mind control. Why they escaped together isn't apparent."

Terry rolled his eyes, "Now they can talk about their feelings with each other and steal all over coffee. I say that's the makings of a healthy relationship."

The former Bat ignored the sarcasm, "We don't know if one could be controlling the other."

"Unless they're in it together." Terry suggested.

"I need you to help me find clues to their whereabouts, maybe even a motive."

Terry's "joy" at the thought of investigaing this latest capper found its way into his tone, "Criminals: where would we be without them?"

"You wouldn't have the job security." Bruce tossed the comment over his shoulder, furiously typing in information about the wayward doctors then added to Terry: "Oh, and get a hold of Maxine."

"Max?" Hearing her name touched a soft side within Terry. He paused.

"I fear that Angel Proctor is nursing revenge against, as she so lovingly calls hers, 'Pinky.'"

Terry grabbed his suit and starting changing.


Looking at the picture of herself and Charlene (ages six and twelve) made Maxine think. Charlene's favorite phrase, 'annoying little sister,' seemed to leap out of the frame at her as she looked at them both covered in mud from the mud puddles in the nearby park. (Tanned backsides from Mama prevented another episode of this from occurring.)

"Maybe that's why I feel so bad for Matt." She said to the calico cat at her feet. Max was dictating to her laptop what to "say" in her research paper to the research advisor at the Gotham General.

The cat only kept beating its tail against the comforter in the bed they both lougued in. The former Hamilton High graduate then saw the picture of herself, Terry McGinnis, Dana Tan, Blade Summer, Chelsea Cunningham, and even Nelson Nash in their caps and gowns together.

"Maybe if I annoy them to death, I can get in ne?"

Isis only blinked at her masked bitter mocking.

What others called annoyance, Maxine Gibson called persistence.

She knew she wasn't always sunshine, but she thought she gave everything her best: School. Dancing. Hacking. Gaming. The valedictorian label wasn't something she took lightly. She fought and lived hard to get everything she deserved.

And yes, life was hard.

Hard work took her family away from her yet hard work was giving her every advantage: The chance to do cutting edge biomedical research at Gotham General while taking a year off from medical school, working part time at the TeenRec, volunteering off and on for the animal rights lover Selina Kyle at the Bio-Park.

(Mr. Wayne sneered at the very thought of this and made her wear a wire every time she went. Safety reasons he cited.)

The clock read one am when she was half way through her research paper. She started yawning like Isis.

'Maybe wanting the best is an annoyance. Maybe waiting stability is an annoyance.'

But, as in all things, Maxine Gibson persisted.


The opened bedroom window looked inviting until the weight of someone slammed into him.

"What the-!" The figured cried.

A very tense black woman with pink locks stepped out of the shadows.With quick reflexes, he entered into a fighting stance when he saw Maxine Gibson armed with the broom handle.

"Do you ever sweep with that thing?" The figured demanded.

"Terry!" She scolded hitting the lights, "It's three am! What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, it's me. Who the heck else?" Terry insisted.

She threw the broom down, "Don't you ever knock?"

"Maybe now I'll consider it." He stepped back, hands up in a surrender gesture, "It'll be healthy for you to have our routine reestablished–you know, I fight crime, you study, you help me get caught up on books. I eat the food in the house. "

"I hope you're happy. I was having a nice dream." A hand on the hip signaled her displeasure.

"Was I in it?" Terry asked jokily, hoping to get her to smile.

A pillow found his cowl-covered face.

"Wow, that actually kinda hurt." Terry caught the flying object in his hands. The signs of verbal sparring put a smile on Terry's face beneath his mask. 'Good to see the old Max.'

"Knock next time, Bats, or I'll use the bat."

"How was your night?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

"Lovely . . .until you came."

"Ouch, Miss Gibson, you wound me." Terry chided, removing the cowl due to the warmth of the room.

'When did she get all weirded out on me? She knew I was coming this way.'

"Anything in the fridge?" He asked with caution.

"Leftovers. Unless I cook." The young woman snapped, disappearing.

The Bat wasn't sure whether to give her a lesson in Butt Kicking 101 or cower at the sight of brooms. When the door opened again, he was back into fight mode.

"By the way, Terr." Maxine said, throwing a towel at him. "You reek."


He wanted to be upfront about what was going on and simply spat it out, "Angel Proctor escaped and Spellbinder's with her."

The knife sunk into the cutting board with a force that the crime fighter did not know she possessed. Max hung her head over the cutting board, the late dinner/early breakfast forgotten. Terry took the liberty of cleaning up (and hoping to be fed if Max wasn't ready to kill him first.) What Terry couldn't see was she face twisting up into a mixture of anger, shock, and dread.

He found himself getting worried when she didn't answer right away, "Max?"

She took a deep breath in then exhaled slowly, "So I guess I'm going into hiding? Another undercover watching the door?" Her voice was even.

"Wayne thinks so. It might be a good idea for a few days-"

"No offense, Terr, but I already spent more than a week at your house."

"This could be serious. Besides, you don't even have to stay there-"

"Do you expect me to run everytime the Boggey Man's around?"

Max finally turned around, knife still standing up in the cutting board, "I don't feel like being uprooted for another week or day or whatever!"

She walked passed Batman in a huff, going toward her bedroom.

Terry shook his head, yelling after her, "You're life's could be in danger and you're worried about staying somewhere for a week? This will be the first place Proctor will come to. God only knows how Spellbinder fits into the equation."

"I'll rather stand my own ground." Max said, slamming the door.

He muttered a few unkind words under his breath, walking toward the room.When he opened the door, he was met with a large baseball bat resting on the girl's shoulder.

"And how do you plan to protect yourself? With that?"

"I once heard someone say 'I don't know karate, but I know crazy.'"

"Funny." He rolled his eyes.

"I've been in a martial arts class for three months now, thank you."

"Well, then I feel so much better leaving you at the hands of the criminal element."

"A Louisville slugger doesn't hurt to have either."

"Why are you being like this? I'm concerned about you." Terry huffed.

"I'm tired of running!" She screamed suddenly, forcing Terry to take a step back, "I'm always the Damsel in Distress act and I'm sick of it. I'm tired of you, Wayne, and everyone else thinking I'm so helpless. Isis and I get along fine, no one else seems to care."

"No one cares? Who said anyone thinks you're helpless!"

"Then why don't you show it and let me be." She tried to walk pass him, not wanting to have this conversation.

He grabbed her arm, "These people are friggin' pyschos, Maxine!"

"I don't need protection." She jerked her arm away from him, emphasizing her point that she just wanted to be left alone.

He pulled her back by both of her arms, "That's what Batman's for."

Inches away from his face, the young woman hissed at him. Her eyes bright with anger. "Batman won't be around forever, Terrence."

Terry let her go. The statement cut into the tense air, he looked away suddenly. Now a host of emotion danced on his face.

Max wasn't sure if she had made him upset or sad but he didn't speak to her for a full minute.

A feeling defeat settled over Terry, he whispered, "That's what I'm afraid."

Seeing his back to her struck a cord in his heart. He started to walk off.

'Good job, Gibson, you did it now.'

"Terry." She called but he took his cowl and headed toward the bedroom window.

Max called after him, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like that!"

A withering glaze silenced her. His cold eyes seem to have froze into indifference, "I'll make it a point not to be around."

The Dark Knight vanished into the night, leaving her crying after him in the dark night.