The angry teen rushed through the restaurant until her heard his name being called.
"Max?" He stopped, handing lingering above the door handle to his exit out of Hanging Gardens.
Out of breath, she caught up to him."Why are you leaving? Aren't you here with Dana? I saw you rushing off."
Terry's eyes fell to the floor as he sighed. "Let's just tonight I'm walking."
"So wait, Dana blew up at you for talking to the waitress."
"No, she blew up at me for not noticing that the waitress was flirting with me."
The two were walking toward uptown were they lived. His pride kept him from calling Wayne then so he figured as soon as they got close enough to the Cheesy Dan's, he'll call then.
"What? You couldn't control that."
"Actually, I could have asked for another server."
She remembered how excited they both were about going--him about treating his girl finally to a nice place problem-free, she about just being with Terry for the whole night.
"But you didn't response back."
"Psft. Not even, that would've been low."
"So the waitress was flirting, talk alone can't convict you."
"She also wrote her number on my palm in pink lipstick."
"Oh." Then she added, "I'm sorry."
"Tell me about it." The boy ran tense fingers through his hair.
"I didn't even like that girl. I don't even know that girl! And not on Valentine's Day!"
Three blocks lately after Terry blew off stream, ranted, raved until he really notice that he ran into his friend at Hanging Gardens.
"I didn't get to ask why you're wearing a dress."
"Oh, this?" She looked down at the borrowed gown, a former prom dress for her big sister.
"I was invited to a party there but the girls ditched me."
"Chelsea and Blade?" She nodded. "Ah."
It took her another two blocks to go through what lead up to her being at the party and what happened after she was ditched (heavily edited).
"At least one member of the male species was lucky."
That bought a grin to her face, "He was . . .okay. We danced some, talked mostly."
"Well, glad to know you weren't alone."
"He said I was stunning." He could see her cover her mouth to fight a giggle.
She noticed Terry's eyes roll. "What? Nobody ever says I'm stunning."
He was about to correct that when a long black limo pulled up to them slowly.
"So she came back . . . " Max looked at him hopefully.
But when the window rolled down, it was a male's face that meet them.
"Or not." He answered, he hid his crestfallen face behind a wry smile.
"I'm sorry, I had to see you again Maxine!" Someone called out.
"Jack!" Max exclaimed, turning around. Her dance partner stepped out of the limo, now wearing a long jacket over his suit.
"What are you doing here?"
"Call me a fool but I couldn't stand another moment without you delightful presence . . . ." Jack stopped himseldf when he saw the dark-haired youth next to her. "I guess I found you and company." He raised a brow.
"Terry? He's my friend and we're walking home." Max explained. Jack smiled.
"Oh good, a friend. Well, your friend won't mind if I give you a ride home, taking about maybe seeing you for dinner soon-" Jack reached for her hand.
"Actually, I do mind." Terry suddenly appeared, taking his hand instead.
"Terry!" Terry ignored the glare burning into his skull.
"Don't I know you?" His eyes narrowed. The older man answered in his debonair cool.
"You may, I have been well know in many circles."
"Royal Flush!" It clicked to Terry, and the words meant only one thing: Thief.
"What?" She cried looking between them.
"I beg your pardon." The cool was shaken some from Jack.
"Yeah, I do know you." The younger man sneered, "Jack Walker, as in Jack Walker of the Royal Flush Gang."
"What are you talking about?" Max demanded.
"Max, the guy's a criminal!" Then launched into a brief history of Jack's sordid one.
"I take offense to that!" The man cut Terry off, shaking his fist.
Her glance fell on Jack in shock then on Terry questioning. 'Terry wouldn't lie about something like this.' Max folded her arms, "Is this true?"
He fought hard not to curse, someone who knew of his past and now he would have to come clean. He did his time and came clean of that life. Why couldn't his past rest?
"I can explain this misunderstanding. Maybe back at the Gardens, my place . . . ."
After the words 'my place' someone got into someone's else face, words were exchanged.
And before Max could even get in another word or between them, a cop was standing between the men with the Dark Knight holding his eye and the former Flush member nursing a bloody nose.
Ace and his master were siting expecting the younger Bat show, from the terse cell call Terry understood that news traveled fast on the police scanner and he better get back to the cave now. "Can you please give me a good reason why you getting into street brawls with businessmen-"
The Dark Knight returned to the manor with his pink-haired friend following behind him.
"Why is Maxine here?"
Terry answered, "Let's just say she's a popular person to visit."
Then Wayne saw the bag of ice he held over his right eye, a twinge of concern came in. "'What happen to your eye?"
"Terry, I'm sorry." She continued to plead but he held up his free hand to stop his protest.
"No, no. Don't apologize. That's what we cavemen are here for. To get black eyes from ex-cons and grape juice thrown in their face by jealous girlfriends."
Wayne eyed both of them."Would one of you like to give me an explanation?"
"Some weird stuff's been going on later." Max started then his protégée cut him off.
"I don't know what personal ad's you placed in the paper to attract every one of the city's ex-villains toward your way, but I really starting not to appreciate it."
"I-I just couldn't believe that he was a thief. He seemed so-so presentable."
"Just like you couldn't believe Carter Wilson tonguing you, ok oh. . . ."
"Wilson's a dreg. That's different!"
"Oh you like your men to be cultured convicts."
"I can give you the other black eye!"
"Terry! Maxine!"
Wayne silenced them, the childish antics annoyed him (but in strange way amused him off his rocker). "Cut the nonsense and start talking. This sounds–despite how silly you two sound–serious."
Terry held up his free hand again: "Can I just in my own defense that I've been yelled at, beat up, and humiliated all week."
Wayne shook his head, 'Guess I should get comfortable for this one.'
"I'm sorry to hear what happen to you Maxine, it could have been more tragic."
She nodded, holding herself in a tight hug.
"But I must admit, Terry has a point: The man you were dancing with belongs to a very old crime family. I've been keeping track of Jack and his sister Melanie, they've been laying low. Out of the crime business–maybe not the scheming parts, but they've been good citizens.
He added quickly afterwards, "So far."
"Guess dinner would have been a bad idea."
Wayne caught the self-blame she had for herself, feeling some sympathy for her nativity in all of this. Terry didn't and replaced the ice bag over his eye to prevent another argument.
The former Bat continue, directing his words more toward the boy.
"The fight was a bit unnecessary but he won't press charges. They can't hold Jack on anything other than getting in a fight over a woman. They let him go. He doesn't want to deal with the cops if he's been clean and you don't want to deal with juvie so you two reached an understanding of sorts. But given what Carter did, concern for your safety wasn't so wrong on his part. I just wish I would have heard some of this as soon as it happened."
Max won herself a pointed look from Terry's good eye.
"Even if Terry couldn't control his temper."
Terry won his own pointed stare from her. Wayne felt his own eyes roll.
"Well, we need to figure out if this happening for a reason bigger than chance."
"So what now?"
"We could question Carter and Jack for motive. Carter's out on bail, Jack is most likely back at his place laying low. But I hardly doubt that either is criminal."
"What do you mean?"
"I pulled up the report they had on Wilson. He's been detoxing in Gotham General."
"Detox?" Both of them said, eyes widing.
"Some new street drug the doctor thinks."
"So he's a druggie. Maybe looking for money at Max's place." The boy threw out.
Wayne frowned. "No, he has money. If he wanted drugs, he could would buy them without trouble."
"Then . . . ." Her word hung in the air.
"It still doesn't make sense." Terry admitted.
"What kind of drug was it, just out of curiosity." She asked, seeking some connection.
"Mood altering, some mind drug . . . . Unless you're the drug."
"Me!" The black girl cried, her paler friend raised a brow.
"I'm trying to put two and two together. His statement for being in your place was a bit . . . unusual. He just said he remember being drawn to you like a drug. The police can only attributed it to the drug use or he's stalking you."
She threw her arms up in frustration."Great, first he wanted to kill me, now he wants to stalk me."
"To make it even more puzzling, he doesn't remember anything."
"He doesn't?" Terry asked skeptically, then dismissed it. "Now that's bull."
"Well, he remember being there but not why he was there."
"Ok, this is getting ridiculous! And what does this have to do with Jack Walker?" She jumped to her feet.
"Well." Bruce Wayne started typing hurried on the keys, a long pause followed as he read.
"Now that I'm reading the report the cop gave on him, he tested positive for the same drug. He also doesn't have much a memory other than Maxine–nothing about the fight or being at Hanging Gardens. I think the police would like to talk to you soon."
Max sat back down.
"So drug-induced sickos I had to fight in the past suddenly start stalking my best friend? And they don't remember anything they've done?"
"That sums it." Bruce leaned forward in the chair, facing them.
As if on cue, Ace walked over to Max, laying his head on her lap.
"Does anything else make sense in this story?" The Bat asked his mentor.
"Back to Carter, it looks like the drug was forced into his system. The police don't know what to make of it. I say mind control. Someone else is pulling the strings behind this."
A very tiny voice came from the lady in the room, "Should I just go into hiding?"
Ace sensed her fear and began whimpering.
"We still don't have motive or even a good reason." Terry emphasized, watching her scratch the Great Dane's ears to keep her mind off the bizarre enormity of the situation. The dog grew quiet.
"What we have is a very large and, may I add, very twisted puzzle." Wayne declared.
The three shared worried looks, whatever was brewing didn't smell good.
"And soon, we're going to have to start putting it together." Wayne answered their thoughts.