WARNING: This story is rated R (just to be safe) for language, violence,
and mild sexual content.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman, Nightwing (even though I'd like to) or any of the related characters. They are owned by WB, AOL Time Warner, and DC Comics. Created by Bob Kane, God rest his soul.
Agent Thomas, Agent Hicks, Carmella and Sammy, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: Sometime after NML, but before the "Bruce Wayne Murder?" series.
I had to bring Leslie in, I just love that woman. She's one of the few people who can stand up to Bruce. Oh and by the way, you still haven't seen all of the characters yet. Yey for more bad guys!!
Oh and a little comic side note, Jim Lee rocks my world!!! Go pick up the new Batman #608. The new story arc "Hush" looks absolutely amazing, and the art . blow me away, it's so great!!!
"No offense to any other pencilers out there, but c'mon, this is Jim- freakin'-Lee we're talking about here! No one can touch him when he draws women, and I just had to see his rendition of Poison Ivy!" --Jeph Loeb, new 'Batman' writer
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
Dinah Lance couldn't believe the destruction. The two buildings next to Central were completely obliterated. About a dozen officers were rummaging around the rubble, hoping to find some kind of sign of life.
Dinah picked up her pace, making her way toward the large white tent set up at the corner of Church and 5th. Every cot under the tent was occupied with people bandaged and bleeding.
"Get out of the way, lady!"
Dinah almost tripped, catching herself at the last second. A man carrying a young boy in his arms raced by her, heading straight for the tent.
"Doctor! He needs a doctor!" the man yelled not knowing where to go.
A gray haired woman, running faster than her age should have permitted her, rushed to the boy.
"Put him down here," she guided him to a table. "What happened?"
"Falling glass I think. He's cut up real bad."
"I need Lactated Ringers solution," she demanded as she ripped the boy's shirt open. The man stared blankly at the doctor. "The bag right there!" she yelled getting frustrated.
Dinah peered around one of the poles holding the tent up and watched the man hook the bag of liquids over a metal pole.
"You," the woman said looking straight at Dinah. "Can you help me?"
Before Dinah could even finish her nod, the woman grabbed her arm pulling her over to the boy.
"Here," she said shoving Dinah's hands over the boy's wound. "Keep pressure on it."
"Dr. Thompkins, do you have any more pain killers?" Dinah recognized the voice.
"Babs?" Dinah turned her head, keeping her hands over the boy.
"Dinah? What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, actually."
"There's some in the medical bag underneath that table," Dr. Thompkins explained, pulling out suture materials. "Ok, I'm going to sew him up."
Dinah moved aside letting the doctor stitch the boy's cuts.
"There's a sink over here," Barbara said, grabbing the medical bag.
Dinah looked down at her hands, they were covered in blood, as were her clothes. "Thanks," she muttered. Barbara guided her to a portable sink. Dinah washed her hands, trying to get the red off her skin. "I got what you wanted," Dinah said with her back to Barbara. "I went to your place but you weren't there. Then I remembered you were going to have breakfast with your father. I was worried."
"I can take care of myself," Barbara said handing some pills to one of the patients.
"I know, I was just worried."
A car pulled up next to the tent, and it caught the attention of both Barbara and Dinah. A woman climbed out of the vehicle and Barbara recognized her immediately. She was the FBI Agent Nightwing had gotten information from the night before.
"Commissioner Gordon?" Thomas asked, spying him speaking to one of his officers. He looked up recognizing the Fed immediately.
"Yes?"
"I'm Special Agent Thomas. I'm here working on the-"
"I know why you're here," the commissioner snapped. He was obviously having a bad day.
"If you need any help, anything at all-"
"We don't need your kind of help." He turned back to his officer. "Let's move out!" Followed by a group of a dozen people, volunteers mostly, Gordon made his way down the street and out of sight.
Thomas stood in the middle of the street feeling utterly helpless. Everything around her was falling apart, and she was denied the opportunity to help.
This is pointless, Thomas thought. How am I supposed to work with these people if they won't even give me a chance?
"Excuse me." A voice pulled Thomas back to the present. The woman calling to her was confined to a wheel chair. "I don't share the commissioner's point of view. We need all the help we can get. If you're up to it, we could use a hand." The woman pointed to the Medical tent behind her.
"Of course," Thomas said jogging over to the woman.
"I'm Barbara. And you?" the redhead asked rolling her chair underneath the tent's shade.
"Agent Thomas of the FBI."
Barbara stopped and stared at her.
Thomas' head dropped for a moment. "Beth."
"Well, Beth," Barbara said handing her a pair of latex gloves. "You can start with the cuts and bruises over there. Get the wounds clean and wrapped."
A faint smile crept along her lips. Finally, something was going right.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Batman, Nightwing (even though I'd like to) or any of the related characters. They are owned by WB, AOL Time Warner, and DC Comics. Created by Bob Kane, God rest his soul.
Agent Thomas, Agent Hicks, Carmella and Sammy, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: Sometime after NML, but before the "Bruce Wayne Murder?" series.
I had to bring Leslie in, I just love that woman. She's one of the few people who can stand up to Bruce. Oh and by the way, you still haven't seen all of the characters yet. Yey for more bad guys!!
Oh and a little comic side note, Jim Lee rocks my world!!! Go pick up the new Batman #608. The new story arc "Hush" looks absolutely amazing, and the art . blow me away, it's so great!!!
"No offense to any other pencilers out there, but c'mon, this is Jim- freakin'-Lee we're talking about here! No one can touch him when he draws women, and I just had to see his rendition of Poison Ivy!" --Jeph Loeb, new 'Batman' writer
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
Dinah Lance couldn't believe the destruction. The two buildings next to Central were completely obliterated. About a dozen officers were rummaging around the rubble, hoping to find some kind of sign of life.
Dinah picked up her pace, making her way toward the large white tent set up at the corner of Church and 5th. Every cot under the tent was occupied with people bandaged and bleeding.
"Get out of the way, lady!"
Dinah almost tripped, catching herself at the last second. A man carrying a young boy in his arms raced by her, heading straight for the tent.
"Doctor! He needs a doctor!" the man yelled not knowing where to go.
A gray haired woman, running faster than her age should have permitted her, rushed to the boy.
"Put him down here," she guided him to a table. "What happened?"
"Falling glass I think. He's cut up real bad."
"I need Lactated Ringers solution," she demanded as she ripped the boy's shirt open. The man stared blankly at the doctor. "The bag right there!" she yelled getting frustrated.
Dinah peered around one of the poles holding the tent up and watched the man hook the bag of liquids over a metal pole.
"You," the woman said looking straight at Dinah. "Can you help me?"
Before Dinah could even finish her nod, the woman grabbed her arm pulling her over to the boy.
"Here," she said shoving Dinah's hands over the boy's wound. "Keep pressure on it."
"Dr. Thompkins, do you have any more pain killers?" Dinah recognized the voice.
"Babs?" Dinah turned her head, keeping her hands over the boy.
"Dinah? What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you, actually."
"There's some in the medical bag underneath that table," Dr. Thompkins explained, pulling out suture materials. "Ok, I'm going to sew him up."
Dinah moved aside letting the doctor stitch the boy's cuts.
"There's a sink over here," Barbara said, grabbing the medical bag.
Dinah looked down at her hands, they were covered in blood, as were her clothes. "Thanks," she muttered. Barbara guided her to a portable sink. Dinah washed her hands, trying to get the red off her skin. "I got what you wanted," Dinah said with her back to Barbara. "I went to your place but you weren't there. Then I remembered you were going to have breakfast with your father. I was worried."
"I can take care of myself," Barbara said handing some pills to one of the patients.
"I know, I was just worried."
A car pulled up next to the tent, and it caught the attention of both Barbara and Dinah. A woman climbed out of the vehicle and Barbara recognized her immediately. She was the FBI Agent Nightwing had gotten information from the night before.
"Commissioner Gordon?" Thomas asked, spying him speaking to one of his officers. He looked up recognizing the Fed immediately.
"Yes?"
"I'm Special Agent Thomas. I'm here working on the-"
"I know why you're here," the commissioner snapped. He was obviously having a bad day.
"If you need any help, anything at all-"
"We don't need your kind of help." He turned back to his officer. "Let's move out!" Followed by a group of a dozen people, volunteers mostly, Gordon made his way down the street and out of sight.
Thomas stood in the middle of the street feeling utterly helpless. Everything around her was falling apart, and she was denied the opportunity to help.
This is pointless, Thomas thought. How am I supposed to work with these people if they won't even give me a chance?
"Excuse me." A voice pulled Thomas back to the present. The woman calling to her was confined to a wheel chair. "I don't share the commissioner's point of view. We need all the help we can get. If you're up to it, we could use a hand." The woman pointed to the Medical tent behind her.
"Of course," Thomas said jogging over to the woman.
"I'm Barbara. And you?" the redhead asked rolling her chair underneath the tent's shade.
"Agent Thomas of the FBI."
Barbara stopped and stared at her.
Thomas' head dropped for a moment. "Beth."
"Well, Beth," Barbara said handing her a pair of latex gloves. "You can start with the cuts and bruises over there. Get the wounds clean and wrapped."
A faint smile crept along her lips. Finally, something was going right.