Chapter 6

Clark and Zatanna lingered over coffee, as the night had progressed better than either had hoped. Once the initial awkwardness was out of the way they seemed to find a comfort level with each other. San Ramos had turned out to be a perfect choice for dinner, both elegant and private. They sat at a small table on the terrace, dining under the stars. A jazz quartet played softly in the background, as couples slow danced to the smooth rhythms. The conversation jumped around, from their childhoods to their work to trivial things. Little insights into themselves slipped through as well. Throughout dinner they found themselves making contact continuously with each other. The brush of fingertips, the light contact of a leg or foot against the other, it all seemed so intimate. After desert, Clark and Zee joined several other couples on the dance floor. As they swayed slowly to the timeless music, each seemed to be very aware of the other. The way his strong hands gently held her made Zatanna feel treasured and desired. The spot on her slender back where his fingers rested seemed to send quivers up her spine. She found herself pressing against him, feeling the strength of his muscular body and enjoying the sensation more than she wanted to admit. Her attraction to Clark had grown all during dinner, as he was charming, modest and sweet in turns. She had been with several men before, but didn't remember having such a visceral reaction to them. His smell, his touch, his handsome features just added to the arousal she felt for Clark. As they danced, Zatanna's mind reflected back on that first kiss. It had been gentle and tender, yet hinted at stronger emotions. The more she was around Clark the more Zatanna wanted to explore those emotions.

Clark was experiencing similar feelings. It had been since high school when he'd last been out with a woman that was interested in Clark Kent not Superman. He'd almost forgotten how good that felt. Through the entire dinner, there was no mention of Superman or the League, but simple, fascinating conversation between a man and a woman. He had always thought Zee was attractive, but being with her all night he'd come to realize she was one of the most beautiful women he knew. Listening to her talk and laugh during dinner, he found it just enhanced her beauty. Now dancing, the difference in their heights caused her to lean forward, her entire body seeming to mold against his. She was a few years younger than him, but as he gently held her slender waist there was no doubt she was a grown woman. Looking down into her dark eyes, they seemed to be smoldering with a hint of mystery. As the song finally ended they stood, bodies touching, gazing into each other's eyes, both knowing the attraction was mutual and growing. Slowly they step back and make their way to their table, still holding hands.

Metropolis

Across town Lois Lane was not happy. She knew she should be in bed by now, but her reaction to Clark earlier had been troubling her all night. As she scans through the channels on the TV once again, she grumbles in frustration. The thought of Clark out with Zatanna bothers her for some reason. It's not that she's interested in Clark, that's ridiculous, Lois tells herself. Clark's a friend, a good friend, that's all. In fact it's not Clark at all, it's Zatanna that's bothering her. It wouldn't matter if it was Clark or Jimmy Olsen that was dating her, Lois wouldn't like it. Although, she really doubts Zatanna would go out with Jimmy, but the points the same. Zatanna must be up to something, that's the only explanation, Lois can think of. Sure, Clark's a good looking guy when he tries, but he's not exactly Bruce Wayne, for heaven sakes. No, it's definitely that woman Zatanna using Clark because she wants something. The only problem with Lois' theory is as hard as she's tried all night, she can't figure out what Zatanna was using him for. Could it be as simple as she likes him? Thinking about Clark has made Lois regret how she's talked about him to Superman the other day. She'd been angry as wasting her whole night at the airport and Clark was responsible. She'd said stupid, cruel things about him, that now that she'd calmed down, she knew weren't true. She'd never tell him, but she did respects him as a coworker and a reporter. He was an all round good guy. He wasn't Superman, but then who was, Lois thought to herself. No, the problem had to be with Zatanna. Lois had done some checking on her earlier when she got home and it turns out besides being a well-known performer, she was also something of a superhero. It galled Lois that this woman, Zatanna comes to town and just start big footing her way around. Lois hadn't really met her or talked to her, but she could just tell she was the kind of person that just went for what she wanted and didn't worry about other people's feelings. That sort of person always pissed Lois off. She was probably dismissive of the little people too, Lois thought. Well, Clark will see through that, he's a smart guy. Sure, Lois thought with a smile, it's just one date and he'll realize she just wants something. He'll probably be broken up over finding out, the poor guy. He'll need a friend, a real friend he can talk to. Lois picked up her cell and dialed Clark's number; ready to be the shoulder he could cry on. That's what friends do, she told herself as the phone connected and started ringing. After three rings, Lois told herself, he was probably just too depressed to pick it up right away. After twelve rings, she realized he wasn't home. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was almost midnight. Where the hell was he, Lois unhappily thought. They were only going out to dinner, how long does that take? Frustrated, Lois slammed her phone down and dropped back on her coach. Well, if that's the sort of woman he wants, well then good luck to you Clark Kent, she decided. Picking up the TV remote, she started scanning through the channels again.

Gotham

Bruce was in the Batcave trying to find some connection to the events he'd been researching. Jonn had located a similar incident in Africa, but there was no footage. The story from San Francisco was on all the news channels and Bruce thought it was part of the pattern. Try as he might, the pattern just wasn't becoming visible to him. There seemed to be no motive or reason for the deaths, just senseless acts of violence. He heard the door from upstairs open and the sound of footsteps coming down. He figured it was Alfred coming to remind him about dinner or getting the proper rest, but as the footsteps got closer, Bruce realized they weren't in Alfred's cadence. In an instance, Batman was in a defensive posture, ready to repel any threat.

"Hey, Bats, take it easy," came a voice from Alfred's body.

"Deadman. Brand," Batman said, relaxing and putting away a Batarang. "What the hell are you doing in there, Brand?"

"Long time, no speak, Bats," Boston Brand said through Alfred.

"I don't appreciate you inhabiting Alfred to invade my home, Boston," Bruce said as a warning.

"Easy there, Bats, you know he ain't going to be hurt, but I needed to talk to you."

"Shouldn't you be gone by now?"

"Long story," Brand waved him off. "Look, there's something going on and I wanted to give you the heads up. I was there in San Francisco when those nuts jumped."

"You were there," Bruce asked, interested in more information.

"Yeah, I felt something, a disturbance in the aether and was drawn there. It was coming from those people on the bridge. One of that actually saw me."

"I thought that was impossible," Bruce observed.

"How he did it, I don't know, but he did. He spoke to me just before taken his one way walk off the bridge."

"What did he say?"

"I asked him why and he said why else, to change the world," Brand relayed, "what the hell do you think he meant by that?"

"I'm not sure," Bruce admitted. "You're the ghost, what did you make of it?"

"What do I know? Some wacko takes a header of the Golden Gate Bridge and sees me before he jumps. It makes no sense to me."

"Tell me about this disturbance in the aether."

"It was magic, I'm sure of it," Brand offered. "But there was something else, just as they jumped, something old, I mean like ancient. I ain't never felt anything like that before. Something major is up and it's big."

"I've been investigating into something like this, but I can't see the pattern in it," Bruce admitted, turning back to his monitors. The inhabited Alfred moved up next to Bruce and scanned his information.

"Well, I'm no detective, but the pattern seems to be everyone of them is dying," Brand offered.

"I know that," Bruce said in irritation, "but the question is, why?"

"This is major league magic, Bats, beyond me."

"I appreciate the information, Brand, keep me informed if you come up with anything else."

"Will do, Bats," Boston Brand said and the vacated Alfred's body.

"Master Bruce? What am I doing in the Batcave," Alfred asked.

"I had a visitor," Bruce replied.

"Mr. Brand, I take it. I hope you informed him in the future to refrain from inhabiting me," Alfred said, turning and heading back up the stairs. "I find the whole experience quite disconcerting, to say the least."

"I'll make a note of it, Alfred," Bruce said with a smile and then turned back to update his files.

Arizona

The Hopi Reservation, the Third Mesa, Will Kabotie, born Nakayoma (Day After Day) had come home to the ancestral home of his people. The once proud people were now down to less then seven thousand in population. Will considered himself a bit of an amateur archaeologist, fascinated with documenting his fast disappearing legacy. He'd been investigating a rather deep, rugged gorge for most of the day, suspecting there might be artifacts from hundreds of years before the white man arrived. An experienced hiker, he'd come out alone. He was nearing the bottom, when something reflected the sun into his eyes and he lost his handhold. Pain spread through him as he bounced off the jagged rocks towards the bottom. When he finally came to rest, he knew he'd broken his collarbone and probably a few ribs. He chided himself for being so careless and easily distracted. Grunting with pain, he pulled himself up and surveyed his surroundings. In the current shape he was in, there was little chance he would be able to climb back out. He needed to find another way. Slowly moving towards the bottom, his mind thought of the flash of sunlight that had caused his fall. Getting his bearings, Will moved towards the stop he thought it had come from. As he moved over the rocks, he would have missed it with his eye, but the light cool breeze drew his attention. Following the airflow, he discovered the mouth of a cave. It was well concealed and you would have to know it was there to find it. Thinking it might be a passage through part of the mountain, Will slipped inside. It was pitch black as he slowly made his way deeper and deeper into the cave. After about twenty feet the shaft widened and he could easily maneuver his way. The cool air felt almost moist, as it washed over him. In the distance, he could have sworn he heard the faint sound of water dripping. This was the middle of the desert, so that shouldn't be. Groping his way through almost total darkness, he saw the faintest glimmer of light in the distance. Thinking he'd found a way out, Will's spirit was buoyed and the pain lessened. It was almost twenty minutes later when he stepped into a large chamber. Dark, calm water was up to his knees. The faint light reflected of the water and gave the chamber an otherworldly quality. The archaeologist in him felt a rush of excitement as he could barely make out what looked like cave paintings. This would represent a major find for his people and their history. Will was so excited by the thought it wasn't until he was in the middle of the chamber that he realized he wasn't alone. Something bumped against his leg and when he looked down he saw a body floating in the water. He screamed in shock and stumbled back away from it, only to run into another and another. Terror gripped him as he wildly looked around him only to realize the entire chamber was filled with bodies. It was some sort of ancient mass grave he feared, but as he hesitantly looked at the nearest body, he realized they were dressed in modern clothing and their was little if any decomposition. Horror filled him, as he thought that this was some madman's killing ground. Desperation ran through his veins as he nervously looked from one body to the next. It was until the fifth body that he noticed something. Each body was connected to some sort of apparatus. As he took a closer look, he saw it was a breathing mask. Their alive, screamed through his mind. Trying to get himself under control, he moved towards the closest body. Gulping down his fear, Will examined what looked like a young man in his twenties. The man's eyes were closed and he lay inert floating on the surface of the water. Thinking perhaps the mask was artificially keeping him in the coma, Will moved is shaking fingers towards the mask. They were only inches away, when the man's eyes opened. They were pure white, and as Will jumped back in shock, the sound of water being displaced came from behind him. Whirling around, Will let out a scream as in the center of the chamber, the head of what could only be called, a dragon emerged from under the water. It's cold, deep ruby eyes looked on him. Frozen in fear, Will could do nothing except scream. The primordial roam of the dragon filled the chamber, as the great beast rose higher and higher. It's massive jaws opened and a quick burst of fire shot out directly at Will. His screams were cut off as the enchanted flames consumed him. It was all over in a moment, and what was Will Kabotie became ash that swirled in the air and then dissolved into the dark water below. Just as quickly, the Dragon shimmered in the air and disappeared. The unnatural calm descended over the chamber once again.

Arkham Asylum

Even in the dead of night the screams and shouts of the inmates were deafening. The worst by far was the wing that housed the incurably insane inmates. Sounds that would chill a grown man to the bones emanated from there. At the very end of the wing, a lone man sat in an almost catatonic state. He was in a straightjacket for his and the guards' protection, but not a sound came from his cell. Dr. Hugo Strange, criminal mastermind, had been here almost two years. He had a breakdown as far as anyone could tell. He was still dangerous, even in his delusional state. To his warped, fragmented mind, the delusions were only getting worse. It was in this late hour that she came, a woman in a golden mask. She would appear out of thin air, her voice seductive and calming. She wanted Hugo's knowledge as a psychologist and as hard as he tried to deny her, she always managed to get what she wanted. It had been days or weeks since the last time she had appeared, Hugo wasn't sure in this place. Part of his mind that still clung to rational thought, believed she was an apparition, a figment of his imagination, the embodiment of his crimes on Earth. Another part of his mind, one not so rational, believed she was a temptress, and by helping her, he would receive his salvation. Yet another part of him feared she was a harbinger of his death, come to torment him before the end. As the wall in his cell began to shimmer, it was this last part that was in control. As usual she step out from thin air and was standing directly in front of him. A long black cloak shrouded most of from his view, but every once and awhile, he caught a glimpse of her golden mask. The mask of death, he told himself. As best he could, Hugo scurried away from her, pressing himself against the furthest wall. It was a futile gesture, as there was really no escaping her.

"Hugo, don't be afraid, Hugo," her ethereal voice gently said to him. "I'm not going to hurt you, unless you refuse me."

"No! NO! I would never refuse you!" he frantically replied, desperate not to offend her.

"That's wise, Hugo, you always were wise," she softly said to him.

"Please, I will tell you anything you want to know, please," Hugo begged.

"I only want a little thing tonight, Hugo," she warmly said to him. "Tell me again about the Collective Unconscious."

Hugo licked his lips and wearily ventured a glance at his imaginary tormentor. He could feel the power behind her deceptive gentleness. He had felt it first hand more than once and just the thought sent a shiver down his spine. Hope sparked within him, though, for he knew the answer to her question. If he pleased her, she would not punish him.

"The-The collective unconscious is a concept put forth by Karl Jung. He theorized that all humans, the world over, had at their core a shared set of basic concepts, such as science, religion, and morality. In other words it's a reservoir of the experiences of our species. In dreams some of these archetypes come into play and Jung believed that by understanding them, he could interrupt the underlying causes of his patients maladies," Hugo slowly explained, not wanting to make a mistake. "I should point out that many, including Freud, disputed this theory."

"I didn't ask you that," she sharply said to him, causing Hugo to recoil in fear.

"I'm-I'm so sorry, I wanted to be thorough," he pleaded.

"When I want your opinion, I will ask it, Hugo. It is wise to remember not to displease me."

"I remember! I do," he gasped.

"That's good, Hugo, very good. Now back to tonight's topic. These archetypes are best accessed in dreams, true?"

"Yes."

"Tell me more."

"Jung suggested they exist as sort of channels for experiences and emotions, resulting in recognizable and typical patterns of behavior that will automatically and unconsciously resonate within us. These patterns take the shape of familiar myths and stories from human history in most cases. Our minds instinctively respond to them. In dreams we are especially open to them."

The woman in the gold mask stood silently for a moment and Hugo feared he'd displeased her.

"You have done well tonight, Hugo," she kindly said to him.

"Thank you, mistress. I only want to serve you," he said, bowing his head.

"You have, Hugo, but then I'm not really here, am I?"

As he looked up, he saw just the last gossamer trace of her disappear. He was alone in his cell, again. The noise of the wing came rushing back in, and Hugo found himself screaming right along with the rest.

Metropolis

Clark and Zatanna had taken a leisurely walk back to her hotel. His jacket was draped around her shoulders against the night chill. His arm was gently around her shoulders, while hers was around his waist. The doorman smiled to them as they entered the hotel. Clark walked her to the elevator; unaware of all the looks they were receiving from the staff and guests.

"Well, I guess this is good night, Zee, I had a wonderful time," Clark began.

"I did too, Clark, thank you," she replied, turning to face him. They were standing very close, looking into each other's eyes. The thought of inviting him up crossed her mind, but she didn't want to rush this. Pressing the elevator button, she turned and moved to him. Clark gently pulled her in, lowering his head to kiss her. It was different than the first kiss, but better for both of them. The desire that had been hinted at in the first kiss was plain in this kiss. It had a smoldering, instinctive feel to it that stirred the passions in both of them. When the elevator finally arrived, they stepped back, a little flushed and excited.

"Good night, Zee. I'd like to do this again," Clark softly said to her, holding her gaze.

"I'd like that as well," she replied. "Good night, Clark."

Reluctantly, Zatanna stepped onto the elevator, her eyes never leaving him. He stood there smiling, gazing back at her until the door finally shut. A thrill raced through Zatanna as she stood there thinking about was a glorious night it had been. It was a cough that finally made her realize she wasn't alone in the elevator. Blushing she turned to see Carmen standing there with a big smile on her face.

"Oh, hi, Carmen, I-I didn't see you standing there," Zatanna said, blushing.

"No, I don't imagine you did," Carmen laughed. "So that's the guy, huh?"

"Yeah," Zee nodded, smiling to herself.

"I saw the way you two were looking at each other. I take it the date went well."

"Oh, yeah."

"Sure you don't want to few condoms," Carmen asked with a laugh.

"Carmen! It's only our first date," Zatanna exclaimed, blushing even more.

"Like I said, I saw the way you two were looking at each other," Carmen suggestively said. Zee didn't answer right away, her mind still thinking of Clark.

"Well, maybe I could use a couple," Zee admitted in embarrassment.

"Regulars or Magnums?

"Magnums."

"Yeah, he looks the type," Carmen said with a naughty laugh. "You're a lucky girl, Zatanna."

"I certainly hope so."