A massive Plexiglas board stood in the middle of the Gotham Police Department's precinct, decorated with maps and crime scene photos. Running along the top were three driver's license pictures of the victims, their smiles contrasting against the gory mess below them.
"Amy Winston, age twenty-two, found in an abandoned shoe factory," Marty recited, motioning to the crime scene photo of a blonde woman in a blue prom dress, a broken glass slipper wedged between her breasts. "Cassandra Cain, age twenty-three, body found underneath the bleachers at the ice-skating rink downtown," A headless body lay on a concrete slab, the mound of a cracked skull from a lovely Asian-American woman a few yards away. "And, our newest member, Rita Farr, age twenty-four. The security guard at the outlet mall found her in the basement."
Dick moved forward to readjust the photos, "Cinderella, Mulan, and Belle."
"Any connections between them?" The newest addition to the force, Special Agent Brandon Soames, rose from his desk.
"No. All just beautiful women that happen to look like Disney characters." Victor Stone, the lead tech operator, turned to his co-workers, "The only clue I've been able to uncover is this." Grabbing his iPad, his fingers flew across the screen before a large monitor to the right of the board began playing a soft, musical tune.
"A… merry-go-round?" Marty guessed as they strained to listen.
"A music box!" Brandon exclaimed happily and the other three men glared, "Sorry, guys."
"What does it have to do with the girls?"
"This same sound was left on each of their voicemails exactly one day before they disappeared. I traced the number for each of them, but they're all coming from random payphones in Gotham, Bludhaven, and Cain's even came from Metropolis." Marty sipped his coffee slowly, eyeing the board.
"Which means tracking this guy down isn't going to be easy." Victor nodded in agreement and then turned to the newcomer, Dr. Melinda Merchant, who had entered the room.
"Any signs of rape?"
"No torn panties, no semen or condom lubrication, and most importantly, no tearing. The only thing that tells me is he can't get it up and he knows it or we could possibly be dealing with a female serial killer." Marty shrugged, draining his cup.
"With Gotham, anything's possible."
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It was seven o'clock on a Friday night. The only reason he knew this was because Kitten's text message informed him of the time and that she would be out looking for him tonight at "their favorite spots." All this told Dick was that he most certainly wasn't going out for a drink with his friends tonight if she was out there, lurking in the darkness in her mini-skirt and push-up bra, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. He involuntarily shivered at the thought.
Closing his apartment door, he dumped his keys and cell phone onto the counter before collapsing onto the couch. Eyes roved the ceiling above, looking at the clump of dust surrounding the ceiling fan. Is this was he had resorted himself to? Checking his ceiling for dirt? Frustrated, his body moved from the couch and to the bedroom, where his hands grabbed the gym bag from the closet and slung it over his shoulder. Was it sad that the only he could do was work out?
He supposed so, but it kept his nervous system intact- unlike if he had gone and run into Kitten. Hoping that the new instructor worked late, he headed back out the door.
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"Back to break some more rules?" The familiar voice almost caused him to trip on the belt of the treadmill. The heels of his sneakers made a terrible skidding sound before he realigned himself. Kory leaned against the handrails, sporting a Gotham Knights football T-shirt and tiny yellow shorts. Dick felt his breath catch as he snuck a peak at those incredibly long legs.
"Not at all, Miss Anders." She smirked and he noticed the sheen in her eyes as they dropped down his body. "Lost in thought?"
"Oh, no, I know exactly where my thoughts are. You?" She slid one silky leg over the other, crossing them at her calves. The water bottle in his hand found its way to the carpeted floor, the liquid barely missing the machine. Instead, it coated the front of her shirt and dripped all the way down her legs. Before he could even begin to muster up an apology due to the dry state of his mouth at the sight of all that water running over all that leg, she grabbed the towel hanging around his neck, wiped the water away, and then hung it back around his still frozen form. "Come on, clumsy, let's hit the weights- that is if you don't drop one on my foot."
"We- you're not my- I don't have a-"
"Trainer?" He nodded meekly. "In case you haven't noticed, there's absolutely no one here besides us and clearly, you need help controlling your form." His past experience with women only reassured what he already knew: the lovely instructor was flirting with him. If it wouldn't threaten his sanity, he would have sent Kitten a dozen roses for forcing him down to the gym on a Friday night.
The two lone exercisers sat across from each other on two similar machines. Bringing their arms forward, the stacks of weights rose up with each movement. Kory enjoyed the familiar tug in her shoulders as she added on another ten pounds to the resistance.
"So how's the GPD doing?" At his peculiar expression, she explained her curiosity. "I used to hang out with some of the junior officers. My sister used to date one of them."
"Really? Who?" If her sister looked anything like her, Dick was sure he would have noticed.
"Roy Harper." The two shared a solemn look, knowing exactly why Kory's sister and the officer weren't dating any longer. Every day on his way to the elevator, Dick passed by the memorial in the lobby erected in memory of those lost on September 11th. Roy Harper's picture sat with the other seventeen men in the department who had fallen when called into action all those years ago.
In response to her question from earlier, Dick shrugged nonchalantly, as if the recent murders weren't keeping him awake at night. "All right, clumsy, that's enough. You'll wear those muscles down if you keep it up." He follows her around the fitness center like a love struck puppy, intrigued with her forthcoming attitude… among other things.
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"Let me make it up to you."
"No."
"Kory…."
"I told you, Dick: I don't date."
"Come on, what have you got to lose?"
"My night."
"And what were you going to do on a Friday night by yourself?"
"Wash laundry and drink." The look on his face caused her to erupt into a fit of laughter. "All right, fine." She grabbed a promotional flyer off the front desk and scribbled down her address. "Pick me up in an hour." He saluted mockingly before heading out into the frosty November air once again. When he gazed back, the outline of her body was still visible, moving around and flicking off lights as she went. After some time, he was too far to see her any longer, but he knew she was there, and the frosty air wasn't as dreary as before.
AN: Chapter Two: "Chai Tea Latte" by Angel Taylor
I tried not to make Kory as timid and naïve as I've seen in other FanFictions, because if she has the gall to move to a completely different country (which we'll learn why later), she has to have a significant level of stamina.
I'm also going on the "Gotham is in New York" plan, with Metropolis being across the bay and Bludhaven directly south of Gotham.