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, Time Warner, and DC Comics. Created by Bob Kane, God rest his soul.
Agent Thomas, Agent Hicks, James Ewing, Carmella, Sammy, Kirk, Brad (hehehe I've always said I own those two) and Sissy, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
TIMELINE: After NML and before Bruce Wayne Murder?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: oh my good golly. It has been forever and a day. I almost had to wipe off the cobwebs it's been so long since I've updated this thing. And guess what I HAVE MORE! Mwahahahahaa! Well, I've been working on this really hard for the past three weeks, and I think I've finally worked out all the plot holes. I'm still in the writing stage, but I have a lot more done. So once I get the upcoming chapters proofed, I'll be posting those too.
Just a little update on me, I'm heading back home in two weeks, for good. I'm really excited to be with my family again … and to be going back to school. I'm going to have my own computer (YEY YEY WHOOHOOO YEY!) and therefore can continue to write.
I have been taking everyone's comments to heart, and after I'm finally finished posting the whole story, I'm going to go back thru and revamp, changing stupid typos or some of my other special mistakes. Thank you guys again for putting up with me, and I hope you guys will continue to read!
Oh, and did anyone else just adore Batman Begins? They're getting closer, and it makes me soooo happy!
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Sissy Montgomery was not in a good mood. She had just spent her morning break arguing with her mother over where she worked. So what if she worked in the hospital morgue. It was great experience, and it helped her save up money for med school.
She couldn't help but laugh. She had ended the conversation telling her mom it was her fault for naming her after an actor in a Steven King movie. Her mom didn't take that well.
The dead were just easier to deal with. Sissy hated the living, but she wasn't going to tell her mother that. She already thought she was insane. Well, not all the living. Kirk and Brad were okay. They were like the older brothers she never had, and never seemed to mind her brashness or little eccentricities.
Sissy sighed and waltzed into the break room, her cell phone still clenched in her hand.
Brad looked up at her smiling. "You're back early."
"Carrie comment seems to end the conversation pretty quickly."
"Ah," Kirk said putting a twenty-dollar bill on the table. "If I was going to name my child after an actor, I'd pick a little better name. I mean, come on, Sissy?"
She hit him playfully in the back of the head. "Shut up. So what's it this time?" she asked pointing to the money on the table.
"FBI Agent's coming in today."
"What? You guys got tired of the 'Cause of Death' pool?"
"Are you in or not? We got hair color, height, and weight."
"Twenty says he's bald, six two, medium build." Brad threw his legs up onto the table and caught himself just before he toppled over backwards on his chair.
"You guys are twelve." She rolled her eyes and opened the door.
"Well?" Kirk caught her.
"Okay, fine. Twenty bucks says your agent has light brown hair, about five eight, and a petite athletic build. And he's a she."
"What?" And both men were on their feet at the door. Sissy pointed out into the hallway to where a rather good-looking woman was flashing her badge, announcing that she was from the FBI.
"That's not fair," Brad whined.
"Pay up boys." Kirk retreated to the table where the money was.
"Wait isn't that the Commissioner?" Brad asked.
Both men shoved their way behind the door so eavesdrop.
"Ow, that was my foot!"
"My foot? That's my arm."
"Oh would you two shut up," Sissy hissed in a whisper.
The Agent was approaching the commissioner. "Commissioner."
"Agent Thomas. I suppose you received the same call we did."
"Yes. Apparently two little kids found the body near the river. A decapitated head was found by city workers near the dump about an hour ago. We just received the confirmation that it belonged to the body. It seems it's the same MO as our John Doe, completely cauterized with traces of the same substance in the blood. And Commissioner," she paused, taking a breath. "I would like for the FBI and the GCPD to work together in this."
With his shoulders set, Commissioner Gordon glared at the agent. He was well aware that everyone was waiting for his decision, including his men.
"You can tell your superiors that the they have the full cooperation of the Gotham Police Department. For now. But do not cross me Agent Thomas."
Gordon didn't miss the small smile of relief that flitted over the agent's lips. A moment later, the head corner emerged from his office.
"Commissioner," they shook hands. "I was told you were looking for the headless John Doe?" The Commissioner nodded. "The guys came early this morning and took the body."
"And you just turned it over? Without my authorization!" Gordon spit as he spoke.
The man shrunk immediately. No one couldn't blame him. The commissioner was an intimidating man when he wanted to be.
"They—they, they had written consents. Uh … FBI." He quickly grabbed a clipboard from the lab table and with a shaking hand, held it out for the Commissioner.
"FBI?" He turned to Thomas. "Agent Thomas, explain this." He shoved the clipboard under her nose.
Thomas looked down at the clipboard and saw her own name scribbled at the bottom. "Sir, I had no knowledge of any authorization to remove the body."
"Yeah, right," Detective Bullock said under his breath.
"The FBI no longer has our cooperation." He tore the clipboard out of Thomas' hand. The metal clip caught her palm, slicing the skin. She clenched her hand reflexively, but she didn't say anything.
The commissioner didn't even give her a second look as he stormed out of the door.
"Bullock, Montoya!" he barked, and the detectives followed obediently.
The coroner turned to Thomas clearly at a loss or words. Thomas' hand dropped to her side and neither she nor the coroner notice the blood dripping onto the floor.
Sissy frowned. Something didn't feel right about this. She waited until the everyone had left the hallway and jogged toward the main entrance of the morgue, making sure not to run into any of the cops or her supervisor.
"Hey Mike?" Sissy peered over the counter. "Mikey?" She could hear music coming from head phones, but still couldn't find the boy who was supposed to be behind the counter. She hit the counter. A young man wearing headphones seemed to pop out of no where.
"What?" he asked louder than he needed to.
"Headphones off!" Sissy almost yelled, pointing to her own ears.
Sheepishly, the boy took the headphones off. "Sorry."
"Yeah. Listen, were you here when the fed came to pick of the headless horseman?"
"I was." He looked down at a pad of paper. "An Agent Thomas."
"And this Agent Thomas, what'd she look like?"
"She? It was a man."
"Are you sure?"
He laughed, "I think I can tell the difference between a dude and a chick. Why? Is there something wrong?"
Sissy frowned. "I don't know." She tapped the counter. "Thanks for your help."
She slipped into the only place she knew she wouldn't be followed, the women's bathroom. There were some pluses to being the only woman in a division. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number.
"Hey, it's me. Yeah. You know how you told me to call you if I noticed anything weird going on? Well, something very weird is going on."