Okay, so I realize that I haven't even mentioned diamonds in the story, yet. Not good. So I'm gonna correct that...soon. Be warned, there is a flashback in this chapter, that will probably continue through the next two chapters. So if you don't want to learn about the story, then feel free to ignore these chapters. And I'll probably be dropping this third person crap after the flashbacks. So if you hate it just as much as me, hang in there, its almost gotta here. Batman Beyond and related characters are owned by DC comics (yay!).
It would be so easy for him to take off his suit. So easy to ignore the sirens of the oncoming police cars and plunge himself into Max's body, but Terry held himself back. The sirens had bought some sense back to him. He started thinking about the situation. This was Max, his lost best friend. And she was in some sort of trouble; he should be trying to help her. Not using her to release his sexual frustration.
"Sirens. Guess that means we'll have to continue some other time," Max kisses him, stands and begins to redress.
He quickly stands and grabs her arm, "Max, we can't – you can't – this isn't like you. If you need help with something, anything, then please tell me. I can help you, if you just tell me."
"I'm fine, but if you really want to help me," she leans into his chest and traces her fingers along the upturned edge of his mask, "you could take off the rest of the suit."
He steps back from her and pulls the mask back over his face.
"Well, I didn't think it would be that easy a second time. We should get out of here before the cops come in," she quickly finishes dressing and runs to a nearby doorway, "You know, life's funny. One day, you're happy, and spending your time with the most amazing person you've ever met. Thinking about marriage, children…then it's all taken away. And all you can think about is how to steal it back, even if for one day, one hour, one minute. I'm not the girl you knew, and if you really want to help me stay out of the way," with that she disappears through the door.
Max enters her apartment and leans against the door. This is home, if you can call it that. Sure it's a large, expensive apartment in a large, expensive building in the center of the city, but Max never got around to decorating -- just a few chairs and a bed. She didn't plan on staying in Gotham this long. She was just supposed to come, steal a few priceless jewels then find a new city. But the Batman had become a problem. There was something about him she couldn't resist. She wanted to be close to him. She thought she had planned this night perfectly. The warehouse had been abandoned for at least five years; she checked it thoroughly the night before and found no alarm systems. So why did the police show up so suddenly? What was so important about an old building to a bunch of big city cops?
A voice calls to her from the shadows, "How long did you intent on staying away from me?"
This was the last man Max wanted to hear from, "I wasn't staying away," Max answers as she scans the room.
"Relax. I only came to see how my investment in you was working out. Seems like your skills have improved dramatically. I am happy," the voice moves closer, "However, you seem to have forgotten what you are, who I am, why you're still alive."
Max finally catches sight of the voice. Paul Dillon.
Two Years Ago: Gotham International Airport local time 2:15am
Spring Break is normally the time college students go to exotic locations and drink more alcohol then anyone person should ever be allowed touch. That was not Max Gibson's style, but she had been convinced by some classmates to go to Cancun anyway. Luckily, she had recieved a message from her sister two weeks before break, Max was an aunt. Max promptly used the new born babe as an excuse to get out of Cancun. She didn't tell her sister, or anyone else for that matter, that she was coming to Gotham, she wanted that to be a surprise. Now as she boarded the cab to her sister's house, she wishes she had told someone, so she wouldn't have to pay the expensive fare.
"It's a little late for someone so young to be flyin into town," the taxi driver says to his customer in a friendly voice, "and to be coming in alone. I can't imagine doing anything like this when I was you're age."
Max doesn't respond, and just stares out the window and into the rain.
"Is this your first time in the city? Ain't usually like this. Dang rain came out of nowhere. Good thing I was there to pick you up, any other driver would probably be too scared to drive out here in this rain. But I'm a professional," the driver smiles back, desperate for a conversation.
Finally, she answers, "I'm from Gotham. Even with the rain, this is an easy drive."
The response was a bit cold, but it was a response and the driver was happy to get it, "Oh, you're a Gotham girl, huh? It's unusual to locals catch a cab from the airport to 'burbs, you know. Well, I guess that explains why you were traveling alone. Gotham girls are a tough sort. But these roads are pretty slick and there's been a lot of construction going on. Dirt gets wet, runs off into the street as mud, it's all a big mess."
"Are you sure you can handle the drive? I can just catch another taxi or the metro-,"
"In this rain? No you stay right here. By the way, my name's Paul. What's yours," he asks, not wanting their conversation to end so soon.
She stares down at her cell phone and notices that the battery is about to die, "Are you this personal with all your passengers, or just the women?"
"Heh, just the pretty ones, but I won't pressure you bout if you don't want to give it. But to be honest, I'm a little disappointed. I mean you come back to town, your hairs still pink and just as rude as you ever where. I just expected you would have matured up there in Metropolis, Max."
She stares at the back of the driver's head, "who are you?"
"I'm Paul, and I think its time we cut the small talk."
She quickly tries to open the door, but it's locked.
"Aw, come on, I'm not that stupid. Besides, it's dangerous out there in this rain," he pushes a button and closes the divider between the two.
Max rams her shoulder into the door, but it doesn't move. Suddenly, she feels weak and dizzy. She falls across the seat. She raises her phone to call someone, anyone, but it's already dead. Lying on her back, she tries to kick out the windows, but no use. Who the hell is Paul, she wonders as she loses consciousness.
