Am I in trouble for another stupidly late update? Yes? I understand.

Nelya spun around using her body to shield Blake from the person was behind her. Her eyebrows seemed to raise of their own accord when her eyes fell on a small, red-headed girl, "You're..."

"The girl our mutual friend was following today?" She indicated at his body with her chin, "Yeah."

Nelya blinked, "It's usually me asking the questions, but how did you find us?"

She looked down and shrugged, "I don't know. I just did."

Letting the odd answer pass, Nelya realising the state Blake was in and how fast time was running out, "You said I still had time. Time to do what?"

The girl nodded, "When he was shot, the bullet had a needle implanted in its centre. Once it came into contact with his body, it injected a serum into his bloodstream and stayed there."

"So there's an antidote."

"No, there isn't. He needs transfusion, sort of."

"'Sort of'? What do you mean 'sort of'?" Staying calm was becoming a problem.

The girl jumped at her raised voice and lowered her head again, her hair shielding her face, "The only way to save him is by bringing him to the place where he was shot. The Joker lied about the time frame; your friend has two hours before his body is taken over by the serum."

By now, Nelya was too far gone to care about this girl's feelings. She had the answers and she knew it was a trap so there wasn't much room for sympathies, "Can he be saved?"

"Yes, but-"

"It's a trap."

She nodded.

Nelya let out a sharp breath through her nose, "I've been in worse."

The girl's eyes widened at her, and, pretending not to see it, Nelya busied herself with gently pushing Blake nearer the middle of the two car seats, "Get in."

Her driving was crazy and the look in her eyes matched it perfectly.

If she accelerated anymore the pedal would break through the floor. Nelya gripped the steering wheel, her sharp, but somehow controlled turns to the café cutting the time it would have taken down by half. She glanced at Blake's body situated between them and quickly back to the road. The veins on his neck were visibly growing and his breaths were getting shorter.

At last, she turned into the road that led on to where the café was, quickly parked and was out, hauling Blake from the car. She drapped a heavy arm around her neck and dragged him along to the entrance, eyeing the door when she got there.

"Wait!" The girl called, rushing up to her, "You need me to get in." She brought a card out and slipped it into one of the alabaster statue's mouths. It sucked it up and after a few seconds something beeped and the door slid open.

Nelya glanced at her, "Thanks..." She began but soon remembered that they had never exchanged names.

"Vera. Vera Yan." She offered.

"I'm-"

"No!" Vera cut her off, "The people in there don't know who you are yet. So it's best to not mention your name."

A faint light glowed at the end of the dark hallway, presumably a room filled with these 'people' Vera was talking about. Hoisting Blake up higher on her shoulders to get a better grip on his body, she turned again to her companion, "Thanks for your help, I guess I should save his butt again."

"Don't thank me yet." She mumbled, "When you both get out alright, then you can say it."

Nelya nodded and entered the building, the door, along with the light from the street lampost, sliding closed. As she dragged Blake through, the sound of music got louder and louder. If she wasn't mistaken, it was slow Blues. She followed a sharp right and found the source of the light, a dim lamp hanging just above an ornate oak door, smoke slowly spilling from the gap in the threshold. Seeing no means of entry, she gently placed Blake on the floor beside her and rapped sharply on the wood.

The music immediately stopped and she felt a sence of hush descend on her. Suddenly, the door swung open, a woman with high cheekbones and coiffured black hair dressed in a fitted tux came into view holding a cigarette to her lips, "Yes?" She drawled.

A sigh escaped her. Why couldn't she be able to have things her way? For once she wished she didn't have to deal with these sorts of situations. Instead, she had to go through the long hard way, and at this moment it started with an unsuccessful performance from this lady trying too hard to be intimidating.

Trying to keep herself from rolling her eyes at the sorry show, she straightened, "My friend got shot by one of your guns when he was trying to sneak into this fine establishment. It seemed alright when I first took a look at it but I have been recently told that he has been poisoned and the only place to get him cured is here. May I come in?"

The woman, who had now stood bolt upright at Nelya's bluntness, nodded and stepped to the side. She obviously hadn't been told to expect something like that.

She precariously draped Blake's arm back over her shoulders and lifted him, taking them both through and into the room ahead.

Heat.

That was all he could feel. A fire raged through his veins, travelling across from his stomach, encircling his arms, neck and head before going back the way it came. He couldn't remember what his body felt like before it became as limp and clammy as this. The strangest part of all, he realised for the few moments he could ignore the pain, was that he was vonscious of what was mostly going on around him. His vision had failed him but he could hear and feel everything around him. A sense of comfort grew in his mind when he realised Nelya was still there. He had to thank her when he got out of this. Again.

So far as he could tell, he was being taken into another part of the cafe, if it should be called that anymore, and soon felt himself being hauled onto a flat metallic surface. Then a gruff voice spoke up, "And you are?"

"We aren't here to talk about me, we're here because you broke him." Nelya retorted.

"He was tresspassing."

"On land guilty of producing illegal weapons and harboring drugs."

"Your evidence?"

"I'm standing on it."

There was a pause.

"You look like the type to make deals; we save your boyfriend and you don't let anyone know about my business."

Nelya scoffed, "That's an incredibly mild deal. With the amount of muscle you're hiding around here and, you know, us being in a weapon's factory, what just came out of your mouth is exceptionally unrealistic."

The voice laughed, "Not just a pretty face, eh?"

"Yes, yes, I'm flattered. What do you really want?"

"Rumour has it you're not who you say you are," Blake made out faint footsteps climbing down stone stairs, "An assassin? I had a hard time believing that. So, here's what I want. There's this guy that I want you to kill for me. Simpke, right? Do that and I'll save Bat-Junior here."

For a frightening minute, Nelya said nothing. Then he heard her take a breath, "So long as you don't tell him anything, I'll go."

Something must have happened because the sound of a whirring machine right by his head started up. He felt he was being strapped to the metal but was unable to fight back, even when two pin pricks in both his arms brought a surge of pain through his body. Before he began to fit, he lost what little consciousness he had managed to keep thus far.