Max snapped her gaping mouth shut at sight of Terry at the hub of the noisy wheeling of motorcycles. She peered hard at the scene. Streetlighting left many details in shadow, but she could swear that Terry had this huge smile on his face. Damn him! He was determined to get himself killed one way or another.
There were too many for him to take on alone. She had to help.
Hard earned experience had her mind and body shifting instinctively into Batman Back-up Mode. Two powerful options of offense/defense were immediately eliminated from her list of solutions to the situation. No batsuit and no batcave. Civilian guise left her with a call for help to the police and the more intimate methods of hand-to-hand self defense/combat.
She pulled the cellphone from her small purse with an aside to Travis. "I'm calling the police."
"You sure you need to Max? Look at him move." The awe in his voice made her stop and look up.
Terry was displaying prime examples of 'economy of movement. She couldn't quite see how he did it, but one biker was suddenly flipped up and off his bike. The riderless machine careened into two others. One stricken bike and rider went down in an uncontrollable slide. The other did some major wobbling, while others quickly cleared a path for him, but was able to right himself.
During that little distraction Terry went to unseat another rider with a simple street brawler type jab to his face. Though stunned the biker managed to hang on... until Terry sent a powerful kick at the machine itself, completely unbalancing it.
"Two down, six to go." Travis murmured with a grin, his gaze riveted on the action. "Who are those guys anyway Max? What's with all the make-up and stuff?"
"They're called Jokerz." Came her distracted reply as she worridly noted that the Jokerz' smug yelling and intimidating hooting had quieted. "And I think Terry's really starting to make them mad."
Despite her concern, Max had an overwhelming feeling that Terry would win this fight he initiated. He had been bottled up emotionally for so long that releasing it here would do more to help him than any amount of talk or understanding. Maybe the ones she should be worried about were the Jokerz. Perhaps a call for an ambulance might be more appropriate than one to the police.
Their bikes were still circling, but at a wider distance, out of Terry's easy reach. Max swallowed at new fear as weapons began to appear in some Jokerz hands. Not guns, but maces, clubs and sharp-tipped bolas that could swing in large arcs to reach intended victims.
Suddenly two bikers similtaneously broke from opposite sides of the circle and raced at Terry, whose posture displayed complete nonchalance. Max wouldn't have been surprised if he'd start picking his nose just to show them how scared he wasn't and then wipe the results on one of them with dramatic flourish when they were within his reach. His sense of humor had warped a bit over the years, but he still had one.
It didn't happen this time. Alcohol was probably slowing that finer tuned portion of his mind as well as his reflexes which were now contorting his body away from a swinging, unreleased bola. A split-second later the other biker was looming over him, handheld steel club rushing at Terry's head. Instead of ducking he grabbed the weapon with both hands. Max imagined she heard the slap of metal against flesh and winced. That blow to Terry's unprotected hands must have stung mightily.
She saw him try jerking the club away from the biker who hung on determinedly with his one hand. The power of Terry's pull upset balance of the bike between his legs and he let go to fumble for the bike handle and right himself. Too little, too late and machine and rider made painful, intimate contact with the road.
Terry had the bar now, but had to leap desperately out of the way to keep from getting hit by the out-of-control motorcycle. His awkward move and the slick road pavement led to his feet slipping out from beneath him and ending sprawled face down on the ground.
She watched in mute horror as another Jokerz broke from the pack and raced at the prone form.
"Get up!" her mind screamed at him, but the words came out a whisper. Beside her, Travis uttered a loud expletive and took off at a fast sprint towards the action.
Max stopped herself from running after him. Her strengths were not physical ones. She had enough training to hold her own in a fight if it came to that, but too often her presence in a situation like this had been a liability, a distraction Terry/Batman did not need. She long wondered how he could separate his concern for her well-being under those harrowing instances from what she felt for him under the same circumstance. He always claimed there was no comparison.
She supposed it was typical male chauvinism, still prevalent even in this century. Maybe chauvinism had a purpose. There needed to be someone around to help the poor males pick up the pieces after they lost a fight. And no matter how strong they were it would happen eventually.
Max continued to hold her breath as these thoughts raced through her mind and her eyes witnessed the bike zooming with deadly intent at Terry's prone form. The other Jokerz were still not aware of Travis' approach, but she was certain he wouldn't get to Terry before the biker did.
A loud exhale exploded from Max when Terry rolled aside just as the bike was about to make contact. He bolted to a sit and jabbed the steel club into the drive mechanism of the motorcycle. It made a loud squealing, thunking sound; hopped twice then flipped over; it's rider clearing the machine with a wild scramble just before it could land on top of him.
Angry yells erupted from the other Jokerz. Three of them broke formation and headed for Terry, their speeds controlled and hand signals from the leader setting them into a planned attack.
Terry was standing in a wary crouch now, his attention flicking from the approaching bikes to the unseated rider who was rising shakily to his feet.
The three bikes took on staggered, controlled positions as distance shortened to their intended target. No weapons were evident. Max imagined they were probably simply going to batter him with their vechicles. If they used technique it wouldn't be hard. Terry couldn't continue to dodge a well thought-out attack, especially not out in the wide open like he was.
Suddenly Travis entered the scene. He was easily pacing beside one of the slower moving bikes. The rider let out a startled yelp as Travis somehow reached across to grab the handlebars, yank them sharply towards him then release and jump aside as the machine's front braked. The back end continued its forward momentum flipping bike and rider in an impressive display of chaos.
Travis didn't stand around and watch, already having sprinted on to the next biker and repeating the same moves.
Terry was unable to relish the sight either as the lead bike was on top of him and the unseated rider from behind had gained enough of his senses to join his fellow gang member in trouncing this newfound enemy.
The remainder of the fight was an intense blur of movement for Max. The remaining gang members had abandoned their bikes to join in hand to hand combat with their comrades against these two unbelievably lucky upstarts. A terrible mistake on their part. Even without the enhancements of the suit, Terry's experience and skills left no doubt in her mind about who the victors would be. And she was suitably awed at how Travis handled himself. Apparently his brawny build was not acquired from simply working out in a gym. He really knew how to make every move count.
Not soon enough it was finally over. Max breathed a partial sigh of relief and shoved the phone she'd been clutching, back into her purse.
She scurried around the fallen bikes and bodies over to Travis who was picking himself up off the ground. He was brushing dirt and debris from his pant legs when she reached him.
"You okay?"
"Yep." A big smile was plastered across his bold features. "That was fun."
"Fun?" Max frowned disapproval, though inside she admitted watching the two men putting the gang of Jokerz in their place was exhilarating. A distant, recognizable groan sent her hurrying in that direction with Travis right behind her. His longer stride had him first beside Terry, helping him sit up. Max crouched on Terry's other side, gaze automatically searching for signs of injury. Her hand came up to gingerly touch a welt on his temple. He winced and ducked his head away.
"You hurt anywhere else?"
"If I am..." Terry was grinning like an idiot. "I'm not feeling it." He looked at Travis, respect in his voice. "Hey, you're not bad in a fight."
"Thanks." Travis chuckled. "You're not bad yourself. I think if you'd been sober you wouldn't have needed my help at all."
"Where'd you get some of those moves. The way you took down those bikes -- I've never seen anything like it."
Travis shrugged. "Back home we indulge in a little sport called bulldogging. Guess some of that technique worked real good under these circumstances."
Max gazed at Travis in surprise. "So that was the odor I -- never mind. You never told me you did rodeo stuff."
"It's just a hobby. I don't do it much anymore. Especially since I discovered a much more enjoyable pastime."
His warm smile left Max with no doubt that she was his new interest. Soft moans and stirring bodies alerted her to the fact that they should leave the area before a bunch of revived Jokerz decided to get revenge.
"Let's move. As much fun as you two have had, I don't think you're ready for another round tonight."
"I agree." Travis seconded. Terry disagreed, his words slurring as the adrenaline rush faded settling him back into drunken stupor.
"I'm ready for more. Bring 'em on!" He flung an arm out, his sitting position wavering precariously from the jerking action.
"Another time Terr. Come on -- up you go." With Travis on the one side and her on the other, they hoisted Terry to his feet and hung on as he sagged in all different directions.
"Whooa... " he grunted. "Would someone please turn the tilt-a-vision off?"
"Steady partner." Travis worked Terry's arm across his shoulders to better support and move him along.
"I think I need another drink. Take me to the nearest bar."
"We're taking you home and getting you to bed." Max replied sternly. Terry tilted his head in her direction, the infamous puppy-dog expression on his face and murmured with a husky slur,
"You gonna join me?"
"Absolutely not." Max answered without malice or forethought and looked away quickly to avoid getting sucked into those suggestive baby-blues.
"Didn't think so." Terry muttered, stumbling along between the two. "I need a drink. Your rejection is too much for me to handle."
"You need to get your head screwed on straight Terr. I can't believe what you're doing to yourself."
"Aw... what'd you care anyway?"
"I care Terry."
"I need a drink."
"You're not getting one." Max fumed internally. Did a more bull-headed man exist?! She quickly subdued thought of Bruce.
Travis sensed the awkward exchange between the two held more meaning than he would ever know. He sought to change the focus. "Where'd you learn to fight like that Terry? I've seen stuff like that on vids, but always thought it was choreographed where everyone falls because they're supposed to."
Max thought she heard swagger in Terry's slurred reply.
"I've had a lot of practice. Been do'in that kind of thing for years."
"You mean you're one of those martial arts masters or something?"
Terry gave Travis a side-long glance, grinned and chuckled. "Not exactly." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial mumur, slur still present. "Don't tell anyone, but... heh... I used to be Batman."
Max managed to turn her shocked gasp into a strangled cough. Peering worriedly across at Travis she met his amused gaze and grinned, as if she thought it was funny too.
"Batman?" Travis questioned mildly, keeping the mirth in check. "Wow, that's really -- something."
"You don't believe me? Ask Max. She knows. She was my backup. Damn good at it too... until she quit." He muttered and sniffed disdain.
Max met Travis' gaze again, rolled her eyeballs upward and shook her head. She tried to hurry their pace as Terry continued to talk.
"I could tell you stories that -- ow!" He jerked away from Max's strong pinch on his arm. At her stern look he quieted and whispered loudly. "Okay, but I don't think it matters anymore. It's all over."
"I doubt Travis wants to hear about your childhood fantasies Terr. We've all had our infantile episodes of hero worship."
"I don't mind Max." Travis was clearly enjoying this.
"Sure you do." Max tried to keep her tone light.
"I need a drink." Terry declared to no one in particular.
The trio continued down the street. The gentle drizzle of spring rain that began again had dampened the roadway, sidewalks and buildings. Illumination from streetlights reflected softly from the wet surfaces. The bright sign identifying 'Howard's Place' loomed only a block away. Max could see her parked car, shining beneath it.
Terry seemed 'out-of-it' as he walked unsteadily between them, humming and singing nonstop bits of that song he seemed to like about a 'superstitious, cowardly lot'. She knew Bruce didn't like it because he always grimaced in distaste when he heard it. She wasn't fond of the song either, but occasionally caught herself mumuring the words and tune without thinking.
Terry let out a sudden low moan and stumbled hurridly to the nearest curb. Bending between parked vehicles, he proceeded to vomit any unabsorbed alcohol left in his stomach. From their distant waiting spot Travis remarked wryly,
"I'd sure hate to be him tomorrow. It's not gonna be a pretty sight."
Max folded her arms beneath her breasts angrily, "He's being an idiot."
"So I gather then that... he wasn't like this before you came to Amurst?"
She cast a sharp look at Travis, hesitating a second before replying, "No, he wasn't. Something... happened to him."
After an interval of waiting for her to elaborate, Travis nodded, "And it's none of my business."
"Right." Max replied softly.
A loud fluttering sound from above made them both jerk in surprise and gaze similtaneously heavenward. A flock of pigeons had left their nocturnal roost and were heading west over the tall buildings.
"That's unusual isn't it?" Max remarked.
"Something must have scared them."
She had her head cocked to one side, expression tense. "Do you hear that?"
Travis strained to sift through the city noises to hear what would be making Max look worried. There was so much more noise here than where he came from and a lot of it left him wondering what he was actually hearing. Soon he pinpointed Max's concern. Dogs barking. Faint, but filled with anxiety. "They sound scared too."
"Uh, oh." She rubbed a hand across her drooping eyelids, then reached out to steady herself against Travis. "I think we're experiencing the Gotham City Phenom."
"The what?"
"How are you feeling right now?"
Now that she mentioned it, he realized how tired he was all of a sudden. The kind of annoying fatigue he remembered as a small child when he had permission to stay up past his usual bedtime and found he couldn't
manage it. And the bruises acquired from the fight were beginning to ache.
"Travis?"
"Tired, I guess."
"Me too."
She saw that Terry was standing straight again, one arm swiping across his mouth while he cast looks around the area. He coughed and sent a worried gaze her way, raising his voice to travel the distance to her.
"It's happening again." Pushing himself away from the vehicle he rejoined Max and Whitfield. "We should get out of here."
Max nodded. "We could, but I think they..." She gestured toward the street. "...should all just stop and wait it out."
They observed in mesmerized silence the activity around them. The smooth flow of traffic in the street began a subtle change, one Max might not have noticed if she hadn't been looking for it. It became more erratic. The sharp squeal of braked tires increased in frequency, angry blare of horns became more pronounced and incensed shouts from irritated drivers pierced the moisture-laden night air. A sudden thought had Max forcing herself to alertness.
"I forgot." She stated more to herself than anyone else and hurried on towards Howard's Place. The men followed, Travis curious enough to ask,
"Forgot what?"
"Instruments in my car. Bruce had me take them along in case I ever encountered the phenom."
Travis puzzled her words outloud. "Bruce? You mean Bruce Wayne, the owner of the company you work for?"
"Ah..." Max mentally kicked herself for speaking without thinking. She had been careful about not revealing much of her past to Travis for obvious reasons. Now between her verbal slip and Terry's drunken confession Travis was bound to formulate more questions she would have to avoid answering. "Yes, that's right."
"I thought he was businessman, not a scientist."
"Oh, he likes to dabble with the unknown. It's one of his little hobbies. And he likes to get his employees involved whenever he can."
An amused snort from Terry reconfirmed Travis' idea that there was rich history shared between these two.
Max dived into the back seat of her car and rummaged for the two devices that she, Bruce and Tim had assembled to measure and record the level of different energies occurring within an affected area. Later they would compare the results to the levels outside of it and hopefully the data would reveal some answers as to what Al Guhl was doing to Gotham. That is if she could manage to get them positioned and activated. She let out an exasperated sound as the devices slipped from her hurried grip and fell to the car floor. A wave of fatigue washed over her and she rested her head against the seat for a moment. She felt weak all over. The car rocked slightly as Terry draped himself over the hood and murmured tiredly,
"Everything okay Max?"
She forced herself to pick up the devices and dragged them from the car. Travis was there to take one from her.
"Put it on the car top." She instructed and did the same with hers. Her fingers fumbled to set the controls. Frustrating minutes later they were activated. After that the three waited, struggling all the while to fight the lethargy dragging at them.
Activity in the streets ebbed and flowed irratically with the traffic signals. Many vehicles were attempting to pull over and stop, their drivers retaining enough commonsense to put themselves out of harms way as had been suggested by city officials through the media. Emergency sirens wailed eerily in the distance.
Travis spoke uneasily. "Feels creepy. Like you know something's gonna happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it."
Straightening from his slump, Terry became tense with alertness. He edged closer to Max, his gaze tight on the street movement, voice distracted. "You're right. Max... move away from the car. You too Travis. Let's get inside Howard's."
"Not now." Max objected strongly. "The longer the data read the better chance of finding an anomaly."
"Let it record then, but I want you away from here. Now Max."
She shrugged off his attempt to pull her along. "Don't you--"
Screeches, resounding thuds and high-pitched crashes all combined into a deafening series of sound that filled the air. It was a chain reaction of vehicles lashing remorselessly into each other.
Terry didn't wait around to watch the spectacle unfold. He shoved Travis hard in one direction, grabbed Max around the waist and dived after him. Peripheral vision noted Max's car being shoved up unto the walkway right behind them. Just when it was about to flatten them, the vehicle spun away and rammed into the front of Howard's Place.
Terry shielded Max from the rain of building materials. The explosive noises finally died away, leaving his ears ringing in the heavy silence that followed.
********************
A/N: Does writing an author's note with a bunch of excuses, mean that the writer is blocked?
I need some honest feedback. I've lost perspective on this story. It seems like it's getting bloated and boring. Is it? Has it been? What are my strengths and weaknesses as a writer? Should I just write the inspired parts and forget the rest whether it makes sense or not?
I want to finish this, but should I do it just to get it over with or wait and do it right?
Your wonderful reviews are a mixed blessing for me. I'm awed by them, yet they also make me feel guilty for making you wait for something that may not be worth it. I truly value your opinions. Whew...thanks for letting me unload. :)
There were too many for him to take on alone. She had to help.
Hard earned experience had her mind and body shifting instinctively into Batman Back-up Mode. Two powerful options of offense/defense were immediately eliminated from her list of solutions to the situation. No batsuit and no batcave. Civilian guise left her with a call for help to the police and the more intimate methods of hand-to-hand self defense/combat.
She pulled the cellphone from her small purse with an aside to Travis. "I'm calling the police."
"You sure you need to Max? Look at him move." The awe in his voice made her stop and look up.
Terry was displaying prime examples of 'economy of movement. She couldn't quite see how he did it, but one biker was suddenly flipped up and off his bike. The riderless machine careened into two others. One stricken bike and rider went down in an uncontrollable slide. The other did some major wobbling, while others quickly cleared a path for him, but was able to right himself.
During that little distraction Terry went to unseat another rider with a simple street brawler type jab to his face. Though stunned the biker managed to hang on... until Terry sent a powerful kick at the machine itself, completely unbalancing it.
"Two down, six to go." Travis murmured with a grin, his gaze riveted on the action. "Who are those guys anyway Max? What's with all the make-up and stuff?"
"They're called Jokerz." Came her distracted reply as she worridly noted that the Jokerz' smug yelling and intimidating hooting had quieted. "And I think Terry's really starting to make them mad."
Despite her concern, Max had an overwhelming feeling that Terry would win this fight he initiated. He had been bottled up emotionally for so long that releasing it here would do more to help him than any amount of talk or understanding. Maybe the ones she should be worried about were the Jokerz. Perhaps a call for an ambulance might be more appropriate than one to the police.
Their bikes were still circling, but at a wider distance, out of Terry's easy reach. Max swallowed at new fear as weapons began to appear in some Jokerz hands. Not guns, but maces, clubs and sharp-tipped bolas that could swing in large arcs to reach intended victims.
Suddenly two bikers similtaneously broke from opposite sides of the circle and raced at Terry, whose posture displayed complete nonchalance. Max wouldn't have been surprised if he'd start picking his nose just to show them how scared he wasn't and then wipe the results on one of them with dramatic flourish when they were within his reach. His sense of humor had warped a bit over the years, but he still had one.
It didn't happen this time. Alcohol was probably slowing that finer tuned portion of his mind as well as his reflexes which were now contorting his body away from a swinging, unreleased bola. A split-second later the other biker was looming over him, handheld steel club rushing at Terry's head. Instead of ducking he grabbed the weapon with both hands. Max imagined she heard the slap of metal against flesh and winced. That blow to Terry's unprotected hands must have stung mightily.
She saw him try jerking the club away from the biker who hung on determinedly with his one hand. The power of Terry's pull upset balance of the bike between his legs and he let go to fumble for the bike handle and right himself. Too little, too late and machine and rider made painful, intimate contact with the road.
Terry had the bar now, but had to leap desperately out of the way to keep from getting hit by the out-of-control motorcycle. His awkward move and the slick road pavement led to his feet slipping out from beneath him and ending sprawled face down on the ground.
She watched in mute horror as another Jokerz broke from the pack and raced at the prone form.
"Get up!" her mind screamed at him, but the words came out a whisper. Beside her, Travis uttered a loud expletive and took off at a fast sprint towards the action.
Max stopped herself from running after him. Her strengths were not physical ones. She had enough training to hold her own in a fight if it came to that, but too often her presence in a situation like this had been a liability, a distraction Terry/Batman did not need. She long wondered how he could separate his concern for her well-being under those harrowing instances from what she felt for him under the same circumstance. He always claimed there was no comparison.
She supposed it was typical male chauvinism, still prevalent even in this century. Maybe chauvinism had a purpose. There needed to be someone around to help the poor males pick up the pieces after they lost a fight. And no matter how strong they were it would happen eventually.
Max continued to hold her breath as these thoughts raced through her mind and her eyes witnessed the bike zooming with deadly intent at Terry's prone form. The other Jokerz were still not aware of Travis' approach, but she was certain he wouldn't get to Terry before the biker did.
A loud exhale exploded from Max when Terry rolled aside just as the bike was about to make contact. He bolted to a sit and jabbed the steel club into the drive mechanism of the motorcycle. It made a loud squealing, thunking sound; hopped twice then flipped over; it's rider clearing the machine with a wild scramble just before it could land on top of him.
Angry yells erupted from the other Jokerz. Three of them broke formation and headed for Terry, their speeds controlled and hand signals from the leader setting them into a planned attack.
Terry was standing in a wary crouch now, his attention flicking from the approaching bikes to the unseated rider who was rising shakily to his feet.
The three bikes took on staggered, controlled positions as distance shortened to their intended target. No weapons were evident. Max imagined they were probably simply going to batter him with their vechicles. If they used technique it wouldn't be hard. Terry couldn't continue to dodge a well thought-out attack, especially not out in the wide open like he was.
Suddenly Travis entered the scene. He was easily pacing beside one of the slower moving bikes. The rider let out a startled yelp as Travis somehow reached across to grab the handlebars, yank them sharply towards him then release and jump aside as the machine's front braked. The back end continued its forward momentum flipping bike and rider in an impressive display of chaos.
Travis didn't stand around and watch, already having sprinted on to the next biker and repeating the same moves.
Terry was unable to relish the sight either as the lead bike was on top of him and the unseated rider from behind had gained enough of his senses to join his fellow gang member in trouncing this newfound enemy.
The remainder of the fight was an intense blur of movement for Max. The remaining gang members had abandoned their bikes to join in hand to hand combat with their comrades against these two unbelievably lucky upstarts. A terrible mistake on their part. Even without the enhancements of the suit, Terry's experience and skills left no doubt in her mind about who the victors would be. And she was suitably awed at how Travis handled himself. Apparently his brawny build was not acquired from simply working out in a gym. He really knew how to make every move count.
Not soon enough it was finally over. Max breathed a partial sigh of relief and shoved the phone she'd been clutching, back into her purse.
She scurried around the fallen bikes and bodies over to Travis who was picking himself up off the ground. He was brushing dirt and debris from his pant legs when she reached him.
"You okay?"
"Yep." A big smile was plastered across his bold features. "That was fun."
"Fun?" Max frowned disapproval, though inside she admitted watching the two men putting the gang of Jokerz in their place was exhilarating. A distant, recognizable groan sent her hurrying in that direction with Travis right behind her. His longer stride had him first beside Terry, helping him sit up. Max crouched on Terry's other side, gaze automatically searching for signs of injury. Her hand came up to gingerly touch a welt on his temple. He winced and ducked his head away.
"You hurt anywhere else?"
"If I am..." Terry was grinning like an idiot. "I'm not feeling it." He looked at Travis, respect in his voice. "Hey, you're not bad in a fight."
"Thanks." Travis chuckled. "You're not bad yourself. I think if you'd been sober you wouldn't have needed my help at all."
"Where'd you get some of those moves. The way you took down those bikes -- I've never seen anything like it."
Travis shrugged. "Back home we indulge in a little sport called bulldogging. Guess some of that technique worked real good under these circumstances."
Max gazed at Travis in surprise. "So that was the odor I -- never mind. You never told me you did rodeo stuff."
"It's just a hobby. I don't do it much anymore. Especially since I discovered a much more enjoyable pastime."
His warm smile left Max with no doubt that she was his new interest. Soft moans and stirring bodies alerted her to the fact that they should leave the area before a bunch of revived Jokerz decided to get revenge.
"Let's move. As much fun as you two have had, I don't think you're ready for another round tonight."
"I agree." Travis seconded. Terry disagreed, his words slurring as the adrenaline rush faded settling him back into drunken stupor.
"I'm ready for more. Bring 'em on!" He flung an arm out, his sitting position wavering precariously from the jerking action.
"Another time Terr. Come on -- up you go." With Travis on the one side and her on the other, they hoisted Terry to his feet and hung on as he sagged in all different directions.
"Whooa... " he grunted. "Would someone please turn the tilt-a-vision off?"
"Steady partner." Travis worked Terry's arm across his shoulders to better support and move him along.
"I think I need another drink. Take me to the nearest bar."
"We're taking you home and getting you to bed." Max replied sternly. Terry tilted his head in her direction, the infamous puppy-dog expression on his face and murmured with a husky slur,
"You gonna join me?"
"Absolutely not." Max answered without malice or forethought and looked away quickly to avoid getting sucked into those suggestive baby-blues.
"Didn't think so." Terry muttered, stumbling along between the two. "I need a drink. Your rejection is too much for me to handle."
"You need to get your head screwed on straight Terr. I can't believe what you're doing to yourself."
"Aw... what'd you care anyway?"
"I care Terry."
"I need a drink."
"You're not getting one." Max fumed internally. Did a more bull-headed man exist?! She quickly subdued thought of Bruce.
Travis sensed the awkward exchange between the two held more meaning than he would ever know. He sought to change the focus. "Where'd you learn to fight like that Terry? I've seen stuff like that on vids, but always thought it was choreographed where everyone falls because they're supposed to."
Max thought she heard swagger in Terry's slurred reply.
"I've had a lot of practice. Been do'in that kind of thing for years."
"You mean you're one of those martial arts masters or something?"
Terry gave Travis a side-long glance, grinned and chuckled. "Not exactly." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial mumur, slur still present. "Don't tell anyone, but... heh... I used to be Batman."
Max managed to turn her shocked gasp into a strangled cough. Peering worriedly across at Travis she met his amused gaze and grinned, as if she thought it was funny too.
"Batman?" Travis questioned mildly, keeping the mirth in check. "Wow, that's really -- something."
"You don't believe me? Ask Max. She knows. She was my backup. Damn good at it too... until she quit." He muttered and sniffed disdain.
Max met Travis' gaze again, rolled her eyeballs upward and shook her head. She tried to hurry their pace as Terry continued to talk.
"I could tell you stories that -- ow!" He jerked away from Max's strong pinch on his arm. At her stern look he quieted and whispered loudly. "Okay, but I don't think it matters anymore. It's all over."
"I doubt Travis wants to hear about your childhood fantasies Terr. We've all had our infantile episodes of hero worship."
"I don't mind Max." Travis was clearly enjoying this.
"Sure you do." Max tried to keep her tone light.
"I need a drink." Terry declared to no one in particular.
The trio continued down the street. The gentle drizzle of spring rain that began again had dampened the roadway, sidewalks and buildings. Illumination from streetlights reflected softly from the wet surfaces. The bright sign identifying 'Howard's Place' loomed only a block away. Max could see her parked car, shining beneath it.
Terry seemed 'out-of-it' as he walked unsteadily between them, humming and singing nonstop bits of that song he seemed to like about a 'superstitious, cowardly lot'. She knew Bruce didn't like it because he always grimaced in distaste when he heard it. She wasn't fond of the song either, but occasionally caught herself mumuring the words and tune without thinking.
Terry let out a sudden low moan and stumbled hurridly to the nearest curb. Bending between parked vehicles, he proceeded to vomit any unabsorbed alcohol left in his stomach. From their distant waiting spot Travis remarked wryly,
"I'd sure hate to be him tomorrow. It's not gonna be a pretty sight."
Max folded her arms beneath her breasts angrily, "He's being an idiot."
"So I gather then that... he wasn't like this before you came to Amurst?"
She cast a sharp look at Travis, hesitating a second before replying, "No, he wasn't. Something... happened to him."
After an interval of waiting for her to elaborate, Travis nodded, "And it's none of my business."
"Right." Max replied softly.
A loud fluttering sound from above made them both jerk in surprise and gaze similtaneously heavenward. A flock of pigeons had left their nocturnal roost and were heading west over the tall buildings.
"That's unusual isn't it?" Max remarked.
"Something must have scared them."
She had her head cocked to one side, expression tense. "Do you hear that?"
Travis strained to sift through the city noises to hear what would be making Max look worried. There was so much more noise here than where he came from and a lot of it left him wondering what he was actually hearing. Soon he pinpointed Max's concern. Dogs barking. Faint, but filled with anxiety. "They sound scared too."
"Uh, oh." She rubbed a hand across her drooping eyelids, then reached out to steady herself against Travis. "I think we're experiencing the Gotham City Phenom."
"The what?"
"How are you feeling right now?"
Now that she mentioned it, he realized how tired he was all of a sudden. The kind of annoying fatigue he remembered as a small child when he had permission to stay up past his usual bedtime and found he couldn't
manage it. And the bruises acquired from the fight were beginning to ache.
"Travis?"
"Tired, I guess."
"Me too."
She saw that Terry was standing straight again, one arm swiping across his mouth while he cast looks around the area. He coughed and sent a worried gaze her way, raising his voice to travel the distance to her.
"It's happening again." Pushing himself away from the vehicle he rejoined Max and Whitfield. "We should get out of here."
Max nodded. "We could, but I think they..." She gestured toward the street. "...should all just stop and wait it out."
They observed in mesmerized silence the activity around them. The smooth flow of traffic in the street began a subtle change, one Max might not have noticed if she hadn't been looking for it. It became more erratic. The sharp squeal of braked tires increased in frequency, angry blare of horns became more pronounced and incensed shouts from irritated drivers pierced the moisture-laden night air. A sudden thought had Max forcing herself to alertness.
"I forgot." She stated more to herself than anyone else and hurried on towards Howard's Place. The men followed, Travis curious enough to ask,
"Forgot what?"
"Instruments in my car. Bruce had me take them along in case I ever encountered the phenom."
Travis puzzled her words outloud. "Bruce? You mean Bruce Wayne, the owner of the company you work for?"
"Ah..." Max mentally kicked herself for speaking without thinking. She had been careful about not revealing much of her past to Travis for obvious reasons. Now between her verbal slip and Terry's drunken confession Travis was bound to formulate more questions she would have to avoid answering. "Yes, that's right."
"I thought he was businessman, not a scientist."
"Oh, he likes to dabble with the unknown. It's one of his little hobbies. And he likes to get his employees involved whenever he can."
An amused snort from Terry reconfirmed Travis' idea that there was rich history shared between these two.
Max dived into the back seat of her car and rummaged for the two devices that she, Bruce and Tim had assembled to measure and record the level of different energies occurring within an affected area. Later they would compare the results to the levels outside of it and hopefully the data would reveal some answers as to what Al Guhl was doing to Gotham. That is if she could manage to get them positioned and activated. She let out an exasperated sound as the devices slipped from her hurried grip and fell to the car floor. A wave of fatigue washed over her and she rested her head against the seat for a moment. She felt weak all over. The car rocked slightly as Terry draped himself over the hood and murmured tiredly,
"Everything okay Max?"
She forced herself to pick up the devices and dragged them from the car. Travis was there to take one from her.
"Put it on the car top." She instructed and did the same with hers. Her fingers fumbled to set the controls. Frustrating minutes later they were activated. After that the three waited, struggling all the while to fight the lethargy dragging at them.
Activity in the streets ebbed and flowed irratically with the traffic signals. Many vehicles were attempting to pull over and stop, their drivers retaining enough commonsense to put themselves out of harms way as had been suggested by city officials through the media. Emergency sirens wailed eerily in the distance.
Travis spoke uneasily. "Feels creepy. Like you know something's gonna happen and there's nothing you can do to stop it."
Straightening from his slump, Terry became tense with alertness. He edged closer to Max, his gaze tight on the street movement, voice distracted. "You're right. Max... move away from the car. You too Travis. Let's get inside Howard's."
"Not now." Max objected strongly. "The longer the data read the better chance of finding an anomaly."
"Let it record then, but I want you away from here. Now Max."
She shrugged off his attempt to pull her along. "Don't you--"
Screeches, resounding thuds and high-pitched crashes all combined into a deafening series of sound that filled the air. It was a chain reaction of vehicles lashing remorselessly into each other.
Terry didn't wait around to watch the spectacle unfold. He shoved Travis hard in one direction, grabbed Max around the waist and dived after him. Peripheral vision noted Max's car being shoved up unto the walkway right behind them. Just when it was about to flatten them, the vehicle spun away and rammed into the front of Howard's Place.
Terry shielded Max from the rain of building materials. The explosive noises finally died away, leaving his ears ringing in the heavy silence that followed.
********************
A/N: Does writing an author's note with a bunch of excuses, mean that the writer is blocked?
I need some honest feedback. I've lost perspective on this story. It seems like it's getting bloated and boring. Is it? Has it been? What are my strengths and weaknesses as a writer? Should I just write the inspired parts and forget the rest whether it makes sense or not?
I want to finish this, but should I do it just to get it over with or wait and do it right?
Your wonderful reviews are a mixed blessing for me. I'm awed by them, yet they also make me feel guilty for making you wait for something that may not be worth it. I truly value your opinions. Whew...thanks for letting me unload. :)