Al sat on the latest thrift store common room addition--a big cushy chair that had been abandoned at the side of the road whose only crime was being the ugliest shade of yellow-green on the face of the planet--with her feet propped up on the milk crate that was currently serving as a coffee table. She sat placidly smiling at the television as screams of terror filled the lair--some from the TV, some from the lab--dropping her hand into a bag of cheddar cheese potato chips every few minutes. Kitten was napping peacefully in her playpen, blissfully unaware of anything that wasn't her Eeyore blankie and bottle. The kid had already learned to tune out the sound of screams; the sign of a regular dyed in the wool Gothamite.

Al hadn't been surprised to find a note on the kitchen table that morning with varying levels of legible penmanship. The first line read in the Captain's hand 'Gone out for a walk, be back by midnight'; 'a walk' and 'midnight' had been crossed out and replaced with 'waffles' and 'three' in Techie's spiky, messy scrawl; those too were scribbled over and replaced with 'swim' and 'dawn' and even further down the page, those were replaced with 'film festival' and 'later'. It wasn't the first time she'd found such a note; they'd been wandering off on their own late at night for years now. She was used to it.

The door slamming open didn't faze her and neither did the flurry of activity that stumbled into the lair. Techie, her mass of frizzy hair somehow precariously held up in a bun by a single yellow pencil, stomped in, scribbling furiously on a notepad. Jonathan followed after her, scowling at the back of her head, his hands stuck deep in his pockets.

"We're going to need garlic--"

Al grabbed another chip and popped it into her mouth, chewing contentedly. "Hi guys."

"And...ugh...crosses, I hate that part." Techie didn't even look up from the small notepad she had in hand as she spoke. "Hi, Al."

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Vampire hunting," Techie replied without pause. Al ate another potato chip. "Silver...that sounds so cliche. I don't suppose we have any holy water lying around?"

"You're insane," Jonathan answered, finally turning Techie's monologue a conversation. "I have mentioned that before, correct?"

"Repeatedly!" Al piped up, taking a swig from her bottle of water.

"Yeah, yeah. Like I said, holy water?"

"The closest I have at my disposal is sulfuric acid."

The sarcastic intent of his statement flew right over her head. "Hey, work with what you've got. Al, can I borrow the boomstick?"

Al lifted one arm and pointed toward her room. "Shells are in the kitchen. Rock salt's in the bathroom."

Jonathan stood up a little straighter. "Rock salt?"

"All things that go bump in the night dislike salt," Techie replied in a matter-of-fact tone and disappeared through the bathroom door.

"You really have lost your mind!" He turned to Al for support--something he never thought he'd do. "Tell her she's lost her mind."

Al still didn't look away from the television screen. "Eh, there wasn't much to lose in the first place."

He looked at the couch bound henchgirl with genuine surprise. "How can you just take this in stride?"

She shrugged. "You weren't around when she made us go hunting for the Beast of Bray Road. This sort of thing is old hat."

He folded his arms over his chest and gave her a skeptical look. "Cryptozoology is one thing--at least it has some basis in fact and an iota of scientific merit--but vampire hunting?"

Al turned slowly and looked him in the eye, dead serious. "Old. Hat." She took another slug of water from her bottle and smiled at him in an unsettling way. "And I'll be sure to remind you what you said about the scientific merit of cryptozoology next time she wants to go find El Chupacabra."

Techie emerged from the bathroom with a sack slung over her shoulder, roughly the size of a five pound bag of potatoes. Laying on her other shoulder was Al's double barreled shotgun. "Got the salt. Ain't no vampire alive--"

"Undead," Al corrected, turning back to the TV.

"Ain't no vampire undead gonna be able to take this much salt without shriveling like a raisin in the sun." She shifted the sack and jerked her head at Crane. "C'mon, Squishykins, we've got a commanding officer to save."

"If you think I'm going to cater to your sick delusions by accompanying you, you've completely taken leave of your senses."

"But Captain is on a dinner date with a vampire! And you can guess what he has in mind for dessert!"

"Oh for the love of…vampires are a mathematical impossibility!" he exclaimed, utterly exasperated.

"Oh, like I trust math."

"Trust logic, then. If a vampire were to exist, vampirism would spread like a contagious disease. Within two years, the whole planet's population would be sucking blood to survive! It's impossible!"

"So are a lot of things," Techie answered easily. "Doesn't stop 'em from happening. Big Blue should be impossible and he's pretty damn real."

He had no comeback for that because she was gallingly right. "You're insane. Furthermore, you're on your own."

For a split second, she looked hurt, but turned her attention to the other woman. "Al?"

"You know my standing policy on all things supernatural," Al replied. "I don't do the whole Egon Spengler thing. It always ends badly. I wish you the best of luck, though."

"But I don't want to go alone," Techie said, her voice turning into a whine. "Come on."

"Not doing it, Van Helsing."

Since Al was a lost cause, Techie turned back to her boss and gave him The Eyes. "Squishums, please?"

"Absolutely not. Vampires do not exist. This is a waste of time."

"If I'm wrong--"

"I love the fact that you put 'if' in there, as though there's a possibility you're not."

She glared at him. "If I'm wrong, you get to see me toss salt at an unsuspecting innocent bystander and make a complete fool of myself."

"I get to see you make a complete fool of yourself daily anyway. That's not incentive."

"If I'm wrong, I'll bake cookies."

"You'll eventually bake cookies. You always do. Try again." He was enjoying the way her ears were turning pink with her rapidly rising ire.

"If I'm right--"

"But you're not right."

"But there's a possibility that I am," she said calmly. "Ra's Al Ghul is immortal; Wonder Woman is an honest to God Amazon; there's that one guy with the four steel arms welded to his spine. With all that, and everything else that's in the papers every day, is a vampire really so far fetched?"

"I never said far fetched, I said impossible."

"You are infuriating!" She huffed. "Look, if I'm right, you get to experiment on something that no one else ever has before. If I'm wrong, no harm, no foul. You can go back to your lab, muttering about my stupidity all you want. You've got nothing to lose and a whole lot to gain as far as scientific knowledge goes."

Against his better judgment, he considered for a moment. She saw his hesitation and moved in for the kill.

"Come on, Jonathan. You know you can't turn down the opportunity to play with a toy nobody's even taken out of the box yet."

He looked at her through narrowed eyes and then sighed, holding out his hand. Her face broke into a grin and she handed over the sack of salt. "I expect a dozen snickerdoodles for this."

"Done and done." She adjusted the angle of the shotgun on her other shoulder. "C'mon, Van Hellsing. Let's go bag us an overgrown mosquito."