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.
Hehehe, it's Bruce!!! I don't know if he would actually do this, but I thought it was funny, so I wrote it. Anyway I know that twinged isn't a word . but I'm going to use it anyway . so there! So now I'm going for ten reviews . just ten. Hehehe, I live off of reviews, they're like the drug that keeps me going. And if you feel the need, check out some of my other stuff :) and review that too. Ok, enough of the spazness that is me. On with the story!
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
"On three. One. Two. Three!" Detective Montoya's voice shouted as the small group of men and women attempted to lift the large slab of concrete off the street.
A shallow yelp emanated from beneath the heavy object.
"My God, there's someone under there!" Bullock tried to pull the heavy object up further but it was too heavy.
"Higher!" Montoya yelled, putting in all her strength.
"It's slipping!"
"I can't hold on much longer!"
Montoya could feel the cold edges of the concrete digging into her hands. Her back muscles twinged with all the power she could muster. She was going to lose it, and probably crush whoever it was.
"Oh my God," she breathed. She closed her eyes and tried to just hold on, for just a second more, something had to happen.
All of a sudden the weight on her arms was cut in half. She opened her eyes and couldn't believe what she was seeing. Bruce Wayne. He was cut up, and had a few bumps and bruises, but otherwise looked fine. Montoya could see his muscles through a gash in his shirt across his arm. He lifted the concrete slab up almost two feet higher.
"Pull her out," Wayne growled through gritted teeth.
Montoya nodded, and ducked under the piece of building. As quickly as she could she glanced around, trying to find some sign of life.
"Hurry," she heard someone say.
Then she saw her. The woman's hand was about the only part of her that could be seen.
"It's gonna be ok," she told the woman. Montoya grabbed her hand and pulled as hard, and gently as she could at the same time. There was another squeal of pain, but the figure came into view with each pull. With one last yank, Montoya pulled the woman out onto the sidewalk, away from the wreckage.
"Ok!" Bullock yelled, and the slab fell to the ground, cracking up two of the edges. "Get her to the MED tent, now!" Bullock yelled at one of the officers. The man nodded and picked the frail woman up, disappearing down the street. "Are you alright?" Bullock asked helping Montoya off the ground.
She mostly picked herself up, and stood to face Wayne. "Thanks to you." She stared at him in awe. She had no idea there was a real man beneath all that billionaire bullshit. She stuck her hand out for him to shake.
Bruce Wayne shot her a boyish grin, and stepped forward to receive her hand.
"Woop," with the quick gasp, Wayne tripped over god knows what, and fell face first into Detective Montoya.
My gosh he's bigger than he looks, Montoya thought to herself, trying to put the playboy back on his feet.
"I'm so sorry," he bumbled his hands trying to straighten himself up, one hand carelessly on her stomach and the other, flat across her breast.
Montoya pushed the man away, putting enough space between the two of them. She wiped her pants off overdramatically.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He tried straightening himself up.
Ok, she was wrong, there really wasn't a real man beneath all the billionaire bullshit. He just happened to be at the right place at the right time. He was still a spoiled brat, who just copped a feel.
"I think you should go to the MED tent as well," Montoya directed, exasperated. "Get those cuts looked at."
He gave her a faint smile then turned his back on her. Montoya stopped, catching a glimpse of his face. His eyes were twinkling mischievously and across his lips was a self-impressed grin. That bastard! He meant to do that.
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.
Hehehe, it's Bruce!!! I don't know if he would actually do this, but I thought it was funny, so I wrote it. Anyway I know that twinged isn't a word . but I'm going to use it anyway . so there! So now I'm going for ten reviews . just ten. Hehehe, I live off of reviews, they're like the drug that keeps me going. And if you feel the need, check out some of my other stuff :) and review that too. Ok, enough of the spazness that is me. On with the story!
Anyway, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
"On three. One. Two. Three!" Detective Montoya's voice shouted as the small group of men and women attempted to lift the large slab of concrete off the street.
A shallow yelp emanated from beneath the heavy object.
"My God, there's someone under there!" Bullock tried to pull the heavy object up further but it was too heavy.
"Higher!" Montoya yelled, putting in all her strength.
"It's slipping!"
"I can't hold on much longer!"
Montoya could feel the cold edges of the concrete digging into her hands. Her back muscles twinged with all the power she could muster. She was going to lose it, and probably crush whoever it was.
"Oh my God," she breathed. She closed her eyes and tried to just hold on, for just a second more, something had to happen.
All of a sudden the weight on her arms was cut in half. She opened her eyes and couldn't believe what she was seeing. Bruce Wayne. He was cut up, and had a few bumps and bruises, but otherwise looked fine. Montoya could see his muscles through a gash in his shirt across his arm. He lifted the concrete slab up almost two feet higher.
"Pull her out," Wayne growled through gritted teeth.
Montoya nodded, and ducked under the piece of building. As quickly as she could she glanced around, trying to find some sign of life.
"Hurry," she heard someone say.
Then she saw her. The woman's hand was about the only part of her that could be seen.
"It's gonna be ok," she told the woman. Montoya grabbed her hand and pulled as hard, and gently as she could at the same time. There was another squeal of pain, but the figure came into view with each pull. With one last yank, Montoya pulled the woman out onto the sidewalk, away from the wreckage.
"Ok!" Bullock yelled, and the slab fell to the ground, cracking up two of the edges. "Get her to the MED tent, now!" Bullock yelled at one of the officers. The man nodded and picked the frail woman up, disappearing down the street. "Are you alright?" Bullock asked helping Montoya off the ground.
She mostly picked herself up, and stood to face Wayne. "Thanks to you." She stared at him in awe. She had no idea there was a real man beneath all that billionaire bullshit. She stuck her hand out for him to shake.
Bruce Wayne shot her a boyish grin, and stepped forward to receive her hand.
"Woop," with the quick gasp, Wayne tripped over god knows what, and fell face first into Detective Montoya.
My gosh he's bigger than he looks, Montoya thought to herself, trying to put the playboy back on his feet.
"I'm so sorry," he bumbled his hands trying to straighten himself up, one hand carelessly on her stomach and the other, flat across her breast.
Montoya pushed the man away, putting enough space between the two of them. She wiped her pants off overdramatically.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He tried straightening himself up.
Ok, she was wrong, there really wasn't a real man beneath all the billionaire bullshit. He just happened to be at the right place at the right time. He was still a spoiled brat, who just copped a feel.
"I think you should go to the MED tent as well," Montoya directed, exasperated. "Get those cuts looked at."
He gave her a faint smile then turned his back on her. Montoya stopped, catching a glimpse of his face. His eyes were twinkling mischievously and across his lips was a self-impressed grin. That bastard! He meant to do that.