Dacl73- the chapter you're refering to was written and posted before that episode aired. In fact, it may have been written before the episode was; I originally posted that chapter on another site in August of 2003. I've thought of a way of making it work out, but it won't come into play for a while. Let's just say that "retired" and "never putting on a costume again" aren't the same thing. And let's also say that this story happens after ROTJ and before "Future Shock".
Corran Nackatori- Nope. I don't have a regular vet.
Lukita Ravenswing- thanks for the head-up. I'd been a bit nervous when the editor tried doing odd things when I uploaded before posting, but I might not have caught it for much longer if you hadn't said something.
VeltaIO- the Selina/Harley bit was my idea. I figured Selina would want Harley
as far from Gotham as possible, and Canada was the best she could do at a moment's
notice, not to mention the fact that it's probably the easiest place to sneak into
from the US. All she'd have needed was a fake birth certificate or Social Security
card. (I'm from Maine; we learn these things even if we don't use them.) You're
the first person who's noticed my reference to Ra's/Talia, btw- congratulations!
As for the nicknames, in the first episode J-Man called Terry "No Fun Boy" and I
decided to keep it. I'm not entirely sure where "Scary Old Guy" came from, but I
think someone might have described Bruce that way on the show.
Spooks-A-Lot- 1)He should be out before too much longer. I have to do some new research into recuperation rates before I commit to an exact date, but since he's only been out of the coma for a week at this point, I don't think they'd be letting him out quite yet. 2)That would be telling.
Agent-G- See note above. I haven't quite decided about any Selina-offspring yet,
but she did get married. The Dee Dees do have a bit of a crush on Terry, but have
no intention of admitting it to anybody. And while I don't know about cat-fights,
Terry's love life is going to go through a few changes, starting next chapter. One
last thing- I forgot to answer your comment on the JLU/Watchtower thing; that was
an editorial decision on my part. The Metropolis base obviously can't be the
original Watchtower, but it's called that anyway. Why? Because that's what the
base has always been called, as far back as they can remember. Never underestimate
the power of habit.
MoonDancerCat- It tried to give up on me for a while, but I'm as pig-headed as Bruce and Terry and I won the fight. More chapters will follow.
- will hopefully indicate thoughts, assuming the editor doesn't kill them...
"Zeta."
"Hello, Mr. Wayne. Superman said you wanted to speak to me."
As understatements went, it was one of history's greatest. Speaking was the least of what Bruce had planned to do. Unleashing holy hell was just the beginning of what he wanted. If it had been anyone else, he would have exploded quite happily, knowing that the offender would never so much as daydream about repeating his mistake. But this was Zeta. A synthoid. A self-aware synthoid, perhaps, but still a synthoid. He couldn't bellow or glare it into submission as he could with a human. Not that he wasn't tempted to try anyway, but he knew it would be a waste of time and energy that he couldn't afford.
Treat this like an argument with Catwoman- arguments about right and wrong never got half as far as reasoning with her did.
"Why?"
Zeta had obviously learned quite a bit in his travels; he knew exactly what Bruce was asking.
"Because Terry can't, and it seems... wrong to lose all the progress the two of you have made in this town. The crime statistics since Terry first put on the suit clearly indicate that, while crime is still occurring, it is much more likely to be discovered and stopped. Less crime is a good thing, isn't it?"
"Yes. But passing yourself off as Batman..."
"I couldn't do it as myself; the NSA would have been here before I could have done any good. And creating a new superhero persona would have taken too long. And people were already starting to ask where Batman was. I thought someone might connect the two disappearances."
Bruce nodded; he'd certainly worried enough about that himself.
"How did you know?"
"That Terry was Batman?"
"Yes."
"I have a voice recognition program. That's how I recognised your voice when I picked up your transmissions to the suit as well."
"Of course; I should have thought of that." He could see Zeta... surely a synthoid couldn't relax? But that was exactly what Zeta was doing; he was holding himself much less stiffly, at any rate. The thought that he could intimidate an AI amused Bruce, but he didn't let it show. Instead, his scowl darkened. "But did you think of what could happen if you were caught?"
"Of course," Zeta said before Bruce could start his list of what could have gone wrong. "I also considered what would happen if I were destroyed, or if someone attacked any of Batman's known associates, or if I encountered someone who knew Batman's true identity other than Max-"
"Max?" Bruce's temper started to rise again as he contemplated what he'd do when he got his hands on her.
"Yes, I asked her if Ro could stay with her while I was out. She seems a little unnerved when she learned what I was doing."
"When was this?"
"We arrived Wednesday, but we didn't actually see her until the next day, after she got back from the hospital. She's really a highly intelligent person- she figured out that I had already been out as Batman within seconds of seeing us."
Imagine that. Well, maybe I won't be too hard on her after all. Zeta's actions did rather put her on the spot; knowing her, she's probably on the verge of complete nervous collapse.The thought was a cheering one.
"All right. I realise you meant well, Zeta, but this can't continue."
"Why not? Is it because J-Man died? I do regret that, but I didn't kill him."
"I know. According to the police reports, he set off some sort of explosive that brought the building down on top of him. And while I'm not pleased that Batman was linked with that, it isn't the reason why. You need to stop because the risks are too great. Agent Bennett is rarely more than a few days behind you, and with the robotics conference coming up-"
Synthoids couldn't really frown, but Zeta seemd to be trying anyway.
"That's true. But surely if the two of us work together we could keep going until he gets here? Batman should be seen as much as possible before he has to disappear again."
It was logical. It was certainly tempting. Zeta was right about one thing- it would be a shame to lose all the progress they'd made.
"If nothing else, I think it might be a good idea to pay a visit to Charlie Bigelow before I stop. His people have been much more active lately."
Bruce thought about it for perhaps two seconds.
"All right. One visit. And I'll be monitoring it. If I tell you to do something, you do it without hesitation or asking questions."
"Of course. Just like Terry would."
Bruce narrowed his eyes, wondering if Zeta were being sarcastic. All his skills at reading people weren't much help at deciphering that smooth metal face.
"If it goes well, then maybe I'll consider let you continue for a few days. You did bring up some valid points-"
"But you don't like the idea of someone other than you or Terry being Batman."
It was a surprisingly insightful comment, and Bruce couldn't argue. Instead, he stood, indicating that the interview was over.
"Go back to Max's place. Tell her I'll be calling. Don't even think of going anywhere else until I do."
"Understood."
He escorted the synthoid to the door. As he opened it, he realised he had one last question he wanted answered.
"Zeta, you knew about Terry, and you knew about me. You must have known that I'd have had something to say about this. So why didn't you just ask me in the first place?"
Zeta turned his head, and Bruce could swear he was smiling faintly.
"Because you'd have said no."
And he was gone, leaving Bruce caught once again between amusement and outrage.
Selina Kyle-Saunders opened her door with a glare more suited to her old rooftop adversary.
"I've already said no five times, Albert, what- oh. Sorry, Harley."
"I ain't askin'."
"It's not a very interesting story anyway. Basic persistant-but-annoying neighbour with more ambition than ability. And he smells like sour milk."
"Ewwwww...." Harley made a face, then got down to business. "So, you plannin' on droppin' in on Junior at all?"
"What makes you think I haven't?"
Harley gave her the look that always reminded Selina that there really was a brain under all that inanity. The former thief sighed. She had meant to visit him before he woke up, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to risk running into Bruce. She'd spent the last 40 years avoiding him, not wanting to relive the ugly scene that had ensued after she'd helped Harley get out of Gotham and get into a battered women's shelter in Canada. He had been ready to charge up there and drag Harley back by whatever means necessary, but she'd refused to tell him where in Canada the shelter was located. Events had rapidly deteriorated, ending in a black eye for her and stitches for him. It would have been worse if Poison Ivy and Riddler hadn't intervened. As far as she knew, he still hadn't forgiven her.
"He's changed, ya know."
"He doesn't change."
"Bets?"
This time it was Selina giving Harley The Look.
"C'mon, Catty, it's over. Mistah J is dead for good this time, Timmy's hangin' with Brucie again, and Bratgirl's givin' both of 'em grief just the way she used to. And the kid's a real sweetie, too. And cute- my girls have a picture of him they stole-" she broke off when Selina raised an eyebrow.
"All right, I'll listen."
"Look, we're the last two of the real Rogues still alive. In a way that makes us family, right? Sure it does. And we got an obligation to protect him from evil old trouts who, um, well..."
"Harley."
"He's got a real mean grandmother who attacked him in the hospital and almost put him back in a coma and she's gonna try something else and there's a fake Batman and he's gonna distract Brucie and we gotta save Terry!" Harley ended on a wail.
Selina sighed and sat down to the always-difficult business of getting Harley to make sense for more than a few seconds at a time.
Terry lay in his bed, glad the physical therapy was over for the day. He knew it was necessary, but that didn't make it any less tiring- or painful. They were being as careful as they could, but the fact was there just wasn't anything they could do that didn't jar something. The minor detail that he'd already been tired from the aftermath of his confrontation with Gramma Dearest didn't help either.
And oh, look, here's someone coming to visit me through the window. Do I know anybody normal? Not that I mind in this case- that outfit really works on her. But is she riding a giant flying playing card?
The window opened silently; the girl slipped in. After checking to see that nobody else was in the room, she pulled off her mask.
Wow.
"Hello, Terry," she said in a quiet, sultry voice just before kissing him as thoroughly as she could considering their respective positions. When she finally broke it off, all he could do was blink muzzily up at her.
"Um, hi."
"I know, I'm probably the last person you want to see after what happened last time, but when I heard you were awake I had to stop in. Oh, god, I was so worried about you!"
Tears sparkled in her big blue eyes. Terry decided that it would not be a good time to ask her who she was.
My brain isn't that damaged, thank you very much.
"It's okay. I'm gonna be fine- eventually." He grinned at her and was relieved to see her grin back.
"I knew you'd beat it. That's one of the first things I noticed about you, you know."
"Really?"
"Yeah. You had this air- god, this sounds dumb- but I could tell you were one of those people who could take whatever got thrown at you and survive. You just- well, you knew who you were and that nothing anyone could do would take that away from you."
Ouch.
"Ummm... thanks. But I think you might be overestimating me a bit."
"No. That's one of the seond things I noticed about you- your tendency to underestimate yourself. You always assumed the worst about yourself and you kept expecting everyone else to do the same. It's like you didn't think you deserved anything good. Is that why you didn't look surprised when you saw me and the the rest of my family being arrested?"
"Arrested?" Terry blurted without thinking. The girl blinked, then looked at him, obviously confused.
"Terry, you can't have forgotten-"
He was blushing. He knew he was blushing.
"Um, you know that bit about me knowing who I was and nothing being able to take that away from me?"
The girl looked at him blankly.
"Apparently 'nothing' doesn't include skull fractures."
He could see the realisation dawning, followed by horror and a touch of embarrassment.
"Ohmigod- I'm so sorry! Oh, Terry..."
"Hey, don't cry!" Terry started to panic as the girl buried her face in his chest and sobbed. He patted her hair awkwardly, wincing at the pressure on his still-tender ribs.
Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcraponacrapcracker, what do I do now? Oh, no, and here comes Mr. Lebowski...
Mr. Lebowski didn't even blink at the pleading look Terry shot him. Instead, he gently pulled the girl away, sat her down in a chair, and got her a glass of water. After a few minutes her sobs diminshed into sniffles. Mr. Lebowski put a finger under her chin and lifted her head so that he could look into her eyes.
"So what's with the waterworks?"
"H- he doesn't remember-"
"Yeah, I know. It sucks. And it's gonna keep sucking for a while. But he's already starting to remember some stuff- right, Terry?"
"Uh- yeah." And a fat lotta good it did me, too!
"See? Now, you used to be with the Royal Flush Gang, didn't you?"
"Uh-huh," she sniffled.
"Well, would your mother have sat around crying if someone beat the snot out of her guy?"
"She was the someone who beat the snot out of her guy last time."
"Oh." Mr. Lebowski looked non-plussed for a second, but continued. "Well, um, before that."
"N-no. But-"
"You know what she'd have done?"
"She'd have ripped whoever into shreds."
"Exactly. Nothin' wrong with a little payback, as long as it doesn't get out of hand."
Terry couldn't believe what he was hearing, and he wasn't the only one. The girl was goggling at the older man, who didn't seem to find anything unusual in telling a teenage girl to go out and find some gang members to beat up.
"I've already done that," she admitted, ignoring the strangled squawk from Terry.
"Nothing says you can't keep doin' it."
"Now wait a minute!" The two looked at Terry. "You can't just tell her to- I mean, you didn't just- what the hell?"
"Why not?" Mr. Lebowski looked bewildered.
"Uh, well, it's- um." Terry realised that he didn't have a single argument that would work. "It's too dangerous" would probably be hazardous to his health, "It's wrong" was too moralistic, and "Because I said so" never worked. Still, whatever he hadn't said seemed to work, because the girl beamed at him.
"Oh, Terry, that's so sweet- you don't even remember me and you're still worrying about my safety. But I'm not out there alone, you know- Jack's helping me. And by the way, I'm Melanie. We used to date. See you later!"
She kissed him again, pulled her hood back on, and left. Mr. Lebowski cocked his head.
"Mary never mentioned you dating a professional thief."
"Maybe I forgot to tell her? I seem to do that a lot."
The big man grinned.
"Yeah, well, I won't tell her if you don't want me to. There are some things a mom just doesn't need to know."
"Thanks." And I'm not sure I want to know either...
To be continued- hopefully, before another six months pass.