Author response time!
Kitty-chan- Yep. Anne McCaffrey does in fact rock. I love her version of telepathy in particular. (Not that it has anything to do with this story, but it will in other things I write.)
Wakadori Ramen and Lord Marix- Actually, that memory was real and accurate. (At least for the purpose of this story. They never did any holiday stories on the show) It's just the conclusions that Terry drew from the memory that are wrong. And yes, he is a little gullible right now. I'll explain that in the next chapter.
I think I was going to say something else, but I can't for the life of me remember what. Oh well.
(Hit the button, Frank)
***********************************************
Dana looked at her watch and swore under her breath. Thanks to the crowds that hit the street on Thanksgiving weekend, she only had twenty minutes to visit Terry if she was going to get to her tutoring session on time- which was another thing to be annoyed about. Most people took this weekend off, but she got stuck with a spoiled rich kid to tutor. Still, if her father followed through on his threats and cut off her allowance she was going to need the money. She wasn't worried about tuition- she'd somehow qualified for a full scholarship and she suspected a certain elderly billionaire was involved- but she liked being able to buy things when she wanted to. She could cut back on buying clothes and such without any problems, but relying on the school stores and cafeteria for all her food wasn't very appealing. Not that the food was bad, but eating at the same place every day got boring fast.
The elevator doors opened and she stepped out onto Terry's floor. The guards looked at her sharply then relaxed, which had the opposite effect on Dana. Usually when she came the guards were easy-going, not really worrying much about anything. If they were suddenly on alert then something had happened to make them that way.
"Terry?" she asked, fearing the answer. One of the guards- called Jazz, Dana remembered- scowled.
"He had a visitor last night who shouldn't have been on the list. She upset the kid pretty bad; he had to be sedated. Should be awake now, though, and a friendly face'll probably cheer him up. I just hope Baggie Bomb tries to show up on my shift- she'll wish it was only Wayne and Drake she was facing." The petite auburn-haired woman displayed a feral grin. Dana froze, knowing who fit the description. She'd been at Mr. McGinnis' funeral and had heard what Brenda McGinnis had said to Terry at the time. Terry had already been blaming himself for having led the Jokerz to his home and Brenda had made it very clear that she blamed him as well. In fact, she had called him a murderer, among other less repeatable things. To Dana's surprise, Terry hadn't lashed back as she had expected. Instead, he withdrew inside himself, neither speaking nor eating. It had scared Dana then, and she didn't even want to think about how he'd react now.
She didn't realize she'd started running until she found herself at Terry's door. She forced herself not to fling it open, not wanting to alarm him if he was awake or waken him if he was asleep. Instead, she composed herself and quietly opened the door. One look at his face told her everything she needed to know. He looked as though he were asleep, but Dana knew better; he had withdrawn again. She clenched her fists, determined that this time the old hag wasn't going to get away with it.
She would have been very happy to know that she wasn't the only one thinking that way.
*************************************************
Bruce glared at the computer, which was NOT working fast enough to suit him. He'd found a few mentions of Terry's family in legal records- some of which he'd marked to investigate later- but nothing to indicate that Terry was anyone other than who he appeared. Warren McGinnis was Mary's only recorded husband and his name was listed as the father on Terry's birth certificate. Bruce couldn't help noticing that Terry was born less than six months after the wedding; he didn't dare assume that it was only bad timing.
Mary and Warren had both been at MIT at the time, as a student and a grad student respectively. Bruce had decided to use that as the starting point of his investigation. The official records were useless, since all they told him was what he'd already known: that they'd attended, had good grades (excellent grades in Mary's case), and graduated. Now he was searching through old copies of The Tech, Tech Talk, and other campus newspapers to find any mention of them. It was taking much longer than he expected.
Bruce looked up at the pictures on the computer screen, frustrated.
*There has to be some evidence, or why would they be so vehement? It can't just be that Mary was pregnant at the wedding, could it? All right, yes, it could. Somehow I don't think logic is their strong suit. But there must be something-&
Bruce broke off his train of thought and enlarged a picture of Terry's family.
*Oh. Good. God.*
Bruce slumped back in his chair, feeling like ten different kinds of idiot. The answer was literally staring at him- in Mary's warm hazel, Warren's calm deep brown, Matt's impish lighter brown, and Terry's sparkling crystal blue.
*Blue eyes are recessive, you fool. How do a brown-eyed man and a hazel-eyed woman produce a blue-eyed son? Answer: they don't.*
Bruce didn't swear often, but when he did, he made up for lost time.
**************************************************
Stalker waited for his prey. He had no plans to kill the woman yet, but the thought of it gave him great satisfaction. Seeing The Bat reduced to a frightened child had enraged him; Inque, who had followed him again, had slipped across to the window in order to eavesdrop. She had returned in a temper rivalling his, reporting that the old woman was accusing The Bat of murdering her son among a long list of other crimes that seemed to begin with his birth. They had been considering an intervention when The Elder Bat had beaten them to it. Inque had been impressed at the display of temper from a man she had dismissed as too old to be interesting and had nearly laughed herself to pieces when the other old woman had started her attack. Stalker himself had smiled at that. Inque had then surprised Stalker by deciding to stay to keep an eye on The Bat; Stalker wondered what she would say if she knew whom she was guarding. He had then followed the first woman, first to police headquarters, then to her home. He had watched her ever since.
Now he was waiting for her to come out so that he could confront her. She would not come near The Bat again if he could prevent it. Not until he was in condition to defend himself.
She was out; he launched himself into the air, landing silently behind her.
"Stay away from the boy."
She shrieked, whirling around and clasping her hands to her chest uselessly. The woman really wasn't worth a hunt.
"Who are you?"
"Stay away from the boy," Stalker repeated. The woman stared at him for a while, then the sneer returned to her face.
"Did Bruce Wayne send you? If-"
"I answer to no man but myself. That boy is something far beyond your comprehension. I will not let you destroy him. If you go near him again, I will kill you."
Before she could do more than gape at him, he was gone.
**************************************************
"Batman" watched Stalker leave, knowing he should do something about it. The man had tracked Brenda McGinnis and threatened her life. That was illegal. There was no question about it.
A distant scream grabbed his attention. He was needed elsewhere.
"Oh dear- I think I'll have to let him get away."
**************************************************
"Calm down, Pinky- it's not like Zee hasn't been out on his own before."
"This isn't the same thing- and don't call me Pinky."
Max glared at her new houseguest. Ro ignored her and grabbed another handful of popcorn.
"Seriously, Max, he can handle this. Why are you worrying?"
"Because you really don't know what you're getting into. You haven't met the Old Man yet. He's gonna grind us up and use us for bat-chow when he catches us!"
Ro laughed.
"Oh, come on, even if this is the original Bat we're talking about, how dangerous can an old fart be?"
"I once saw him take out four of the T's, just using his cane."
"Whoa."
"Yeah. The Jokerz don't call him Scary Old Guy for nothing. I'm serious, Ro, we're in way over our heads. And what happens when Agent Bennet shows up? If he captures Zee while he's 'on the job', it'll be even worse than when Terry disappeared! All those people out there will think Batman's just a rogue synthoid and when Terry's ready to go back, nobody'll trust him! Or worse- Bennet knows Batman and Zeta aren't the same person and if he tries to find out why Zee was impersonating Batman and the NSA finds out..."
Ro slumped. She hadn't thought of that.
"This is getting way too complicated. But what if Bennet doesn't show before we leave? I mean, when we got the news, we were on our way to Alberta for a talk given by one of the other scientists who worked on Zee. There's nothing related to us going on in Gotham right now, so why would he look for us here?"
"Because of the huge robotics conference that starts next weekend, maybe?"
Ro slumped even further.
"Slaggit. You think he'll come looking for us there?"
Max flopped down on the couch.
"I don't know. But I do know we can't keep this up forever and when we do get caught there's gonna be hell to pay."
"Uh- from which side? The old Bat or the NSA?"
"Either. Both. Whichever. This is not a winnable situation here."
"Well, aren't you just Little Miss Optimist."
The two lapsed into silence, trying to think of a way out of the mess they'd
help create.
*************************************************
Superman walked quietly into the Batcave.
"Clark."
Not quietly enough.
"Hello, Bruce. You asked me to come?"
"Yes, I did."
Superman stared at his old friend. Bruce seemed preoccupied, which was never a good sign. He tried to guess why Bruce had called him, and came up with a very wrong answer.
"You want me to help this substitute Batman?"
"NO. But I want you to help me find him. I have to know who he is, and I'm not sure I dare take the time to do this my usual way- especially now."
He waited for Bruce to clarify his remark, but wasn't surprised when all he got was a stony silence. Once again he reached for a possible answer.
"Something you need to tell me, Bruce?" he asked, dreading the reply.
Bruce looked up at him, and Clark was shocked at the obvious worry on the old man's face.
"Tell me," Clark said simply. Bruce studied him for a few seconds, then gave what Clark suspected was a highly edited version of the events of the last two days. But what Bruce did tell him was worrying enough. And infuriating; this was the last thing they needed.
"I could throw her into orbit if you like," he offered after another long silence. Bruce didn't smile, but a familiar glint lit his eyes.
"I'll keep that option open. In the meantime, I think I can handle those two while you track down that imposter."
"I guess it would look a little suspicious if Superman just popped out of nowhere to put the fear of God into her."
"Just a bit, yes."
"But it would be fun while it lasted."
"Yes. But then I'd be obligated to track you down."
"Mmm. Good point. Oh, well, it was just a thought." Clark headed out to start imposter-hunting but paused to give one last word of encouragement. "You're worrying too much, Bruce. You were handling idiots like this while I was baling hay in Kansas- that didn't come out right. So what's the worst that can happen? Terry finds out he... isn't really his father's son and his parents have been lying to him all these years which only reinforces what that witch told him and now I'm getting depressed."
"Welcome to my world."
*************************************************
Clearing up a few things, confusing others... it's all good.
Kitty-chan- Yep. Anne McCaffrey does in fact rock. I love her version of telepathy in particular. (Not that it has anything to do with this story, but it will in other things I write.)
Wakadori Ramen and Lord Marix- Actually, that memory was real and accurate. (At least for the purpose of this story. They never did any holiday stories on the show) It's just the conclusions that Terry drew from the memory that are wrong. And yes, he is a little gullible right now. I'll explain that in the next chapter.
I think I was going to say something else, but I can't for the life of me remember what. Oh well.
(Hit the button, Frank)
***********************************************
Dana looked at her watch and swore under her breath. Thanks to the crowds that hit the street on Thanksgiving weekend, she only had twenty minutes to visit Terry if she was going to get to her tutoring session on time- which was another thing to be annoyed about. Most people took this weekend off, but she got stuck with a spoiled rich kid to tutor. Still, if her father followed through on his threats and cut off her allowance she was going to need the money. She wasn't worried about tuition- she'd somehow qualified for a full scholarship and she suspected a certain elderly billionaire was involved- but she liked being able to buy things when she wanted to. She could cut back on buying clothes and such without any problems, but relying on the school stores and cafeteria for all her food wasn't very appealing. Not that the food was bad, but eating at the same place every day got boring fast.
The elevator doors opened and she stepped out onto Terry's floor. The guards looked at her sharply then relaxed, which had the opposite effect on Dana. Usually when she came the guards were easy-going, not really worrying much about anything. If they were suddenly on alert then something had happened to make them that way.
"Terry?" she asked, fearing the answer. One of the guards- called Jazz, Dana remembered- scowled.
"He had a visitor last night who shouldn't have been on the list. She upset the kid pretty bad; he had to be sedated. Should be awake now, though, and a friendly face'll probably cheer him up. I just hope Baggie Bomb tries to show up on my shift- she'll wish it was only Wayne and Drake she was facing." The petite auburn-haired woman displayed a feral grin. Dana froze, knowing who fit the description. She'd been at Mr. McGinnis' funeral and had heard what Brenda McGinnis had said to Terry at the time. Terry had already been blaming himself for having led the Jokerz to his home and Brenda had made it very clear that she blamed him as well. In fact, she had called him a murderer, among other less repeatable things. To Dana's surprise, Terry hadn't lashed back as she had expected. Instead, he withdrew inside himself, neither speaking nor eating. It had scared Dana then, and she didn't even want to think about how he'd react now.
She didn't realize she'd started running until she found herself at Terry's door. She forced herself not to fling it open, not wanting to alarm him if he was awake or waken him if he was asleep. Instead, she composed herself and quietly opened the door. One look at his face told her everything she needed to know. He looked as though he were asleep, but Dana knew better; he had withdrawn again. She clenched her fists, determined that this time the old hag wasn't going to get away with it.
She would have been very happy to know that she wasn't the only one thinking that way.
*************************************************
Bruce glared at the computer, which was NOT working fast enough to suit him. He'd found a few mentions of Terry's family in legal records- some of which he'd marked to investigate later- but nothing to indicate that Terry was anyone other than who he appeared. Warren McGinnis was Mary's only recorded husband and his name was listed as the father on Terry's birth certificate. Bruce couldn't help noticing that Terry was born less than six months after the wedding; he didn't dare assume that it was only bad timing.
Mary and Warren had both been at MIT at the time, as a student and a grad student respectively. Bruce had decided to use that as the starting point of his investigation. The official records were useless, since all they told him was what he'd already known: that they'd attended, had good grades (excellent grades in Mary's case), and graduated. Now he was searching through old copies of The Tech, Tech Talk, and other campus newspapers to find any mention of them. It was taking much longer than he expected.
Bruce looked up at the pictures on the computer screen, frustrated.
*There has to be some evidence, or why would they be so vehement? It can't just be that Mary was pregnant at the wedding, could it? All right, yes, it could. Somehow I don't think logic is their strong suit. But there must be something-&
Bruce broke off his train of thought and enlarged a picture of Terry's family.
*Oh. Good. God.*
Bruce slumped back in his chair, feeling like ten different kinds of idiot. The answer was literally staring at him- in Mary's warm hazel, Warren's calm deep brown, Matt's impish lighter brown, and Terry's sparkling crystal blue.
*Blue eyes are recessive, you fool. How do a brown-eyed man and a hazel-eyed woman produce a blue-eyed son? Answer: they don't.*
Bruce didn't swear often, but when he did, he made up for lost time.
**************************************************
Stalker waited for his prey. He had no plans to kill the woman yet, but the thought of it gave him great satisfaction. Seeing The Bat reduced to a frightened child had enraged him; Inque, who had followed him again, had slipped across to the window in order to eavesdrop. She had returned in a temper rivalling his, reporting that the old woman was accusing The Bat of murdering her son among a long list of other crimes that seemed to begin with his birth. They had been considering an intervention when The Elder Bat had beaten them to it. Inque had been impressed at the display of temper from a man she had dismissed as too old to be interesting and had nearly laughed herself to pieces when the other old woman had started her attack. Stalker himself had smiled at that. Inque had then surprised Stalker by deciding to stay to keep an eye on The Bat; Stalker wondered what she would say if she knew whom she was guarding. He had then followed the first woman, first to police headquarters, then to her home. He had watched her ever since.
Now he was waiting for her to come out so that he could confront her. She would not come near The Bat again if he could prevent it. Not until he was in condition to defend himself.
She was out; he launched himself into the air, landing silently behind her.
"Stay away from the boy."
She shrieked, whirling around and clasping her hands to her chest uselessly. The woman really wasn't worth a hunt.
"Who are you?"
"Stay away from the boy," Stalker repeated. The woman stared at him for a while, then the sneer returned to her face.
"Did Bruce Wayne send you? If-"
"I answer to no man but myself. That boy is something far beyond your comprehension. I will not let you destroy him. If you go near him again, I will kill you."
Before she could do more than gape at him, he was gone.
**************************************************
"Batman" watched Stalker leave, knowing he should do something about it. The man had tracked Brenda McGinnis and threatened her life. That was illegal. There was no question about it.
A distant scream grabbed his attention. He was needed elsewhere.
"Oh dear- I think I'll have to let him get away."
**************************************************
"Calm down, Pinky- it's not like Zee hasn't been out on his own before."
"This isn't the same thing- and don't call me Pinky."
Max glared at her new houseguest. Ro ignored her and grabbed another handful of popcorn.
"Seriously, Max, he can handle this. Why are you worrying?"
"Because you really don't know what you're getting into. You haven't met the Old Man yet. He's gonna grind us up and use us for bat-chow when he catches us!"
Ro laughed.
"Oh, come on, even if this is the original Bat we're talking about, how dangerous can an old fart be?"
"I once saw him take out four of the T's, just using his cane."
"Whoa."
"Yeah. The Jokerz don't call him Scary Old Guy for nothing. I'm serious, Ro, we're in way over our heads. And what happens when Agent Bennet shows up? If he captures Zee while he's 'on the job', it'll be even worse than when Terry disappeared! All those people out there will think Batman's just a rogue synthoid and when Terry's ready to go back, nobody'll trust him! Or worse- Bennet knows Batman and Zeta aren't the same person and if he tries to find out why Zee was impersonating Batman and the NSA finds out..."
Ro slumped. She hadn't thought of that.
"This is getting way too complicated. But what if Bennet doesn't show before we leave? I mean, when we got the news, we were on our way to Alberta for a talk given by one of the other scientists who worked on Zee. There's nothing related to us going on in Gotham right now, so why would he look for us here?"
"Because of the huge robotics conference that starts next weekend, maybe?"
Ro slumped even further.
"Slaggit. You think he'll come looking for us there?"
Max flopped down on the couch.
"I don't know. But I do know we can't keep this up forever and when we do get caught there's gonna be hell to pay."
"Uh- from which side? The old Bat or the NSA?"
"Either. Both. Whichever. This is not a winnable situation here."
"Well, aren't you just Little Miss Optimist."
The two lapsed into silence, trying to think of a way out of the mess they'd
help create.
*************************************************
Superman walked quietly into the Batcave.
"Clark."
Not quietly enough.
"Hello, Bruce. You asked me to come?"
"Yes, I did."
Superman stared at his old friend. Bruce seemed preoccupied, which was never a good sign. He tried to guess why Bruce had called him, and came up with a very wrong answer.
"You want me to help this substitute Batman?"
"NO. But I want you to help me find him. I have to know who he is, and I'm not sure I dare take the time to do this my usual way- especially now."
He waited for Bruce to clarify his remark, but wasn't surprised when all he got was a stony silence. Once again he reached for a possible answer.
"Something you need to tell me, Bruce?" he asked, dreading the reply.
Bruce looked up at him, and Clark was shocked at the obvious worry on the old man's face.
"Tell me," Clark said simply. Bruce studied him for a few seconds, then gave what Clark suspected was a highly edited version of the events of the last two days. But what Bruce did tell him was worrying enough. And infuriating; this was the last thing they needed.
"I could throw her into orbit if you like," he offered after another long silence. Bruce didn't smile, but a familiar glint lit his eyes.
"I'll keep that option open. In the meantime, I think I can handle those two while you track down that imposter."
"I guess it would look a little suspicious if Superman just popped out of nowhere to put the fear of God into her."
"Just a bit, yes."
"But it would be fun while it lasted."
"Yes. But then I'd be obligated to track you down."
"Mmm. Good point. Oh, well, it was just a thought." Clark headed out to start imposter-hunting but paused to give one last word of encouragement. "You're worrying too much, Bruce. You were handling idiots like this while I was baling hay in Kansas- that didn't come out right. So what's the worst that can happen? Terry finds out he... isn't really his father's son and his parents have been lying to him all these years which only reinforces what that witch told him and now I'm getting depressed."
"Welcome to my world."
*************************************************
Clearing up a few things, confusing others... it's all good.