Two weeks. That's how long Batman has been missing. It's also the same amount of time Batgirl has been out trying to keep the peace as Batman recovers. It seems this single man can make a big difference in this city. All sorts of criminals have come out of their hiding places after hearing the news about Batman, and since his disappearance, they have all come to the conclusion that he is dead. However, not many of them know about the presence of Batgirl… yet.
Every kind of scum that makes its way to the street is brought down by her interference. A few muggers here, some rapists there, and Jokers and Ts everywhere makes up tonight's work. She returns home bruised and exhausted, but feeling accomplished. Making her entrance through her window, she flops down on the couch removing her mask and throwing it on an armrest.
A fatigued and painful grunt escapes her lungs. "How does he do it? I'm worn out."
With an effort, she manages to get to her feet and shuffles to her bathroom. Touching the faucet's buttons, she sets her desired water temperature looking forward to the warm water that will soothe her aching muscles. She takes off the rest of her suit and catches a reflection of herself in the mirror. Thankfully no major damage was done tonight. Only one fresh bruise in an interesting shade of purple covers her upper right arm.
She then shifts her gaze downwards to get a look at the old bruise covering her left side all the way down to her outer thigh. 'Those seem to be getting better,' she judges from the fading yellow discoloration.
She twirls to reveal her back, which seems to have received the most damaged. The explosion that took place a few nights ago caused her to slam into a nearby car resulting in the black and blue bruise paired with minor cuts that have scabbed up nicely. The injury stretches from the middle all the way down to the curve of her back. Although it's still healing, the patch of discoloration is still very much noticeable. However, thanks to Gotham's chilly fall weather, her injuries can easily be covered with a jacket.
She vividly remembers the night she received the bruise since the pain from moving only recently improved. But despite that fact, she continued on with her nightly routines as though the unrelenting pain never existed, proving her determination to returning the sense of security to her city.
With a sigh, she turns away from the mirror, strips of any remaining clothing, and steps into the shower closing the fogged glass door to keep the comforting steam from escaping. At first, the water seems to burn her bruises as it flows down her tense body, giving her an idea of how cows feel when branded with hot iron.
Although she winces in pain, she continues to stand under the showerhead waiting for the therapeutic sensation to take its course. She closes her eyes and lets the water run over her head until the sound of it flowing over her ears drowns out all the city noises. Finally, comfort takes over.
Her tense frame relaxes; the pain from her aching and overworked muscles no longer bother her; the stinging from her cuts and bruises turn numb; and her mind is finally set free from worry. Not wanting to disturb the silence in her head, she stays in that position for what seems like an eternity, but is in fact five minutes. Growing sensitive to the pressured water hitting her head, she lifts her head and awakens from her momentary trance before reaching for the bottle of fragrant shampoo.
By the time she enjoys the stress-relieving aroma emitted by her body wash, Batman manages to reach her apartment and quietly slip in from the living room window. As he rises from the crouched position, he quickly grabs his side and groans in pain. He's thankful that Bruce won't allow him to work tonight, mainly because he could barely move without pain shooting from different parts of his body. Although he isn't wearing the removable cast for his wrist, he holds his arm close to his chest as though it's still in a sling.
The trip to the apartment obviously wore him out, so instead of waiting patiently in the shadows like he normally does, he flops down on her couch and lets out a tired sigh. He stretches his arms out on the couch's back and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling. Ignoring the throbbing coming from the back of his head, he begins wondering what to tell Jazz after she's done with her shower.
'Let's just hope she doesn't drop her towel when she sees me,' he thinks to himself as a sly grin crosses his lips when he imagines the awkward scene.
The sound of shuffling coming from her room makes him turn his head towards the door just in time to see it swing open. Standing in the doorway, Jazz hasn't noticed the intruder seated so comfortably on her couch yet mainly because her head is bent over as she dries her long hair with a towel. Terry, however, is somewhat disappointed to see her dressed in a pale yellow t-shirt and purple-lined pajama pants. Once she flips her hair back, she lets out a startled curse when she notices the shadow sitting in her living room bearing the bright red mark on his chest.
"You're alive," she starts, approaching him.
"For the most part," he replies watching her take a seat beside him.
"How are you feeling?"
He lifts his head to get a better look at her before answering, "ribs are still broken, so moving is tons of fun let alone breathing. But I'm here is to talk to you."
"Me? About?"
He brings his left arm down tiredly resting it on his stomach. "Inque was never easy to deal with, but I think with a little help she could be stopped."
"Oh, hey look, pulling you out of a burning room is way more different than stopping a rogue who almost killed you," she protests with surprise.
"Here's the thing," Batman sighs, "I'm in a lot of pain, so as much as I would love to share an entertaining back and forth, just admit to you're extracurricular activities so we can get on with this."
Jazz blinks with bafflement. "Uh, sorry?"
"I know you're Batgirl," he states without blinking. "Before you go on a whole spiel of denial," he quickly interrupts when she opens her mouth to argue, "I suggest you find a better hiding spot for your mask," he says, holding up the mask she tossed on her couch earlier.
She rolls her eyes at her own carelessness as she slumps deeper into the couch. "I'm guessing you knew before you found that." He nods once. "How?"
"We tend to keep tabs on anyone suspicious in Gotham," he explains setting the mask aside.
"Who's 'we'?"
"That info is reserved for members of our team."
"So, am I the only invitee?" He nods again.
She remains silent as she ruminates over the opportunity. Working with the Batman is an honor she didn't expect to be given considering their last encounter.
"Last time we chatted, it didn't exactly go well. So what's changed?"
Batman rubs his chin with his good hand as he tries to put together a decent explanation. "You've held your own the last two weeks; that changed my mind about you."
"That's it?"
"I'm not a complicated guy," he replies with a grin, but she frowns at the statement when she's suddenly reminded of her conversation with Terry.
"What did you say?"
"No offense, but I'm on a tight schedule here," he replies ignoring her question. "You in or out, Douglas?"
"You kidding? Of course I'm in."
"Well then," he replies removing his mask to reveal the familiar face behind it.
"Holy shit," she gasps.
Smiling, Terry repeats the same words his mentor had told him that fateful night years ago. "Welcome to my world."
"I should have known. No wonder you never called."
"We can catch up later. Grab your suit and come with me."
"Why? Where are we going?"
Pulling his mask back on, he slowly stands before calmly responding, "the cave, where else?"
-continued-