The subway was another great place to people watch, though it was more crowded and a lot smellier than city buses were. However, this particular subway system had a lot going for it that made even the smell of dank and urine tolerable. The Washington D.C. Metro Transit System was housed inside subway tunnels that looked like they'd been plucked right out of a seventies sci-fi flick. One particular seventies sci-fi flick, actually…
The Captain skipped up to one of the turnstiles, looked around to see there was no attendant on duty and then jumped it. Al clumsily did the same and Techie fell flat on her ass in the attempt.
"Sometimes I miss being a legitimate citizen," she muttered, rubbing her backside as Al helped her up.
The Captain grinned and ran along the subway platform, skidding to a stop in front of a group of tourists waiting for the train to Bethesda. "Identify!"
They stared at her, uncomprehending.
"Capricorn fifteens, year of the city—"
Still, nothing.
She held up one of her palms, exposing a circle she'd drawn in red Sharpie. "Renew! Renew!"
The tourists looked at each other, then back at the Captain.
"Fish and plankton and sea greens and protein from the sea," she said in a deep monotone.
"Captain, stop scaring the straights," Techie chided, grabbing her coat sleeve and dragging her away.
She put a hand on her hip and huffed. "Why are we the only people alive who've seen Logan's Run?"
"Because it's a really bad movie," Al responded loudly, as the roar of the subway train filled the tunnel.
"It's a wonderful movie!" the Captain defended.
"It's ridiculous." The red line train pulled to a stop and people started flowing out onto the platform, stepping on each other in their haste. Ah, public transportation.
"So?" The Captain, Al and Techie pushed their way through the crowd and into the car. "Just because a movie's ridiculous doesn't mean it's not good."
"It's campy."
The Captain brought her hands up and moved them mockingly. "Oooh, only serious, hard hitting dramas can be classified as good movies now?"
"The soundtrack sucks."
"But it's…is it Williams or Goldsmith? I can't remember. Either way! Awesome sci-fi composer!"
"It's a bad movie."
"You're a smeghead," the Captain countered, most maturely. "Techie, tell her she's a smeghead."
"Oh no," Techie said, grabbing hold of one of the cloth straps in the subway car and hanging on for dear life. "I'm not getting involved in this."
"But it's your movie. You love that movie. You made me watch that movie. For God's sake, you put tin foil on your head as a child and pretended to be Box!"
The train started to move and Techie swayed alarmingly. "I do love it, that doesn't mean I think it's good."
"Ladies and gentlemen," a man in black stood up suddenly at the other end of the car, brandishing a gun, "if I may have your attention please—"
As though they hadn't heard him—and considering the fact they lived in Gotham, it was possible that they'd learned to block out such things—the girls paid him no heed.
"It's worse than Barbarella," Al said, sticking her tongue out.
Techie's eyes flashed dangerously. "Now I do have to get involved. You take that back."
"Now, Ops," the Captain shifted instantly into diplomat mode, "Barbarella is really, really bad."
"Oh, but Logan's Run is a cinematic masterpiece." Techie rolled her eyes. "I may love it to pieces and all, but I mean, it's not Clash of the Titans or anything."
A woman screamed. "This is a robbery! If you all cooperate—"
"I hate Clash of the Titans," Al volunteered, just to be contrary.
"Blasphemy!" the Captain and Techie shouted in perfect unison.
"Shatner lovers," Al spat.
Techie sputtered. "Dancing-prancing-Nancy-Sith fangirl!"
The Captain turned on her ally in an instant. "Hey, now, back up off the Sith—"
"Why are we fighting?" Techie pegged a finger at Al. "She's the one who doesn't even like any of the good Star Trek movies."
"Excuse me!" The gunman started stalking down the car towards the arguing henches. Still, they didn't note his existence, even as his hostages cowered on the floor, making them the only people in the car still standing. "Excuse me! Excuse me! EXCUSE ME!"
"That's right!" the Captain exclaimed. "And she's never even seen The Prisoner—"
"AHEM—" the robber waved the gun in the Captain's face, the movement finally registering. "If you don't mind, ladies, we're in the middle of a robbery here?"
She looked down at the pea shooter he held in hand and then back up at his face. "Were you invited into this conversation?"
"I know you're enjoying your little spat over here, but I have a gun and you, last time I checked, do not. Now, stop your little bitch-fest and get down on the floor, like all the other nice, smart passengers. ON. THE. GROUND. NOW!"
Reluctantly, they each relinquished their hold on the subway car and dropped to their knees, assuming the position—flat on their bellies, hands behind their heads, ankles splayed as far as the subway car would allow. They'd had a lot of practice at this, after all.
"That's much better. Valuables, please." Obediently, they complied, reaching into their pockets and tossing their money at his feet. "Thank you."
The thief scooped them up and dumped the wads of cash in the trash bag he was carrying, as the car came to a stop at the next station.
"Now, let me settle it for you, since you obviously know nothing about the true nature of science fiction," the robber said. "The facts are thus: Matheson was a hack, Serling was preachy and contrived, The Prisoner doesn't deserve its cult following and the new Battlestar was, is and always will be vastly superior to the old."
"I say we kill him," Techie growled into the filthy steel floor.
"Kill him hard," Al added.
"Kill him twice," the Captain tacked on.
The doors to the car slipped open and the thief bent at the waist, ever so slightly, bowing to his hostages. "Thank you, thank you, you've been a wonderful captive audience."
And with that, he was gone.
Snarling, Techie and the Captain got up off the floor, pulling Al with them. "We're going to track that guy down, I swear to God we are, and we're going to force feed him his own Battlestar DVDs. Whole."
"No, we're not," Al said, brushing herself off and stepping out of the subway car onto the platform. The other passengers were still too petrified to move, and the people on the platform in the immediate area who'd seen the gunman exit the car also dove for cover.
"What?"
Al smirked and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "I tossed him my money clip."
"Your…money clip?" Techie asked, recognition dawning. "You mean…the money clip? The emergency money clip?"
"The emergency money clip with the spring loaded fear toxin release mechanism? The one that'll, you know…pffft when he tries to take the cash out of it?"
"Yup."
"Oh, Al!" The Captain and Techie both dove at their friend, crushing her in a fierce group hug. "Even if your taste is sometimes questionable, we still love you."