Could it be?
IT IS.
This is the final chapter of Never Met a Girl Like You Before.
So, everyone knows what that means, right? Yes, a possible sequel! Possibly, maybe, if I'm so inclined. Which I do belive I probably will be.
Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, so no suing. Evelyn, Charlotte, Michelle and Greg are all my original characters.
"Evelyn! Get back here!"
I ignored Charlotte as I made my way over the transmuted asphalt Ra's had constructed. I wasn't going to let Bruce go after that crazy old guy alone, especially if Ra's was as good an alchemist as I thought he was. Sure, Bruce was a pro in hand-to-hand combat, hell, better than a pro. He could have ten guys incapacitated before they could even pull out their switchblades and fight back. But if Ra's moved far enough away to use alchemy, Bruce wouldn't be able to get out of the way in time.
"Evelyn!" Charlotte was climbing over the asphalt after me.
I knew how to stop Ra's; I knew I was going to have to use alchemy; I knew it could kill me; I knew that death was a risk I was willing to take if it would save Gotham. If it would save Bruce. Charlotte finally caught up to me and she grabbed my belt and I was jerked to a violent stop.
"What are you thinking?!" she shouted.
"I know how to stop Ra's," I said, grabbing Charlotte by the shoulders and shaking her lightly. "But I really need your help this time. I really need you to be a distraction."
"Bruce has got it covered, Evelyn," Charlotte said, sighing heavily. "He can handle it. He told us to go home. Besides, your arm needs checked out before it gets infected." She took me by the arm. "Evelyn, please."
"You saw what Ra's did," I said evenly. "You know what he's planning to do. You know what he could do to Bruce. You know I can't let that happen." I pulled my mask off and looked her in the eye. "Please, Charlotte. You've got to help me." She closed her eyes, pursed her lips, then let out a long exhale.
"What sort of distraction do I need to be?"
Bruce blocked another punch from Ra's with his forearm, dropping to one knee to avoid a high kick, then lunging back to dodge another punch. He swung at his former teacher with an attack of his own, one that was easily blocked.
"What's your plan, Ra's?" Bruce asked, teeth clenched as he blocked a series of jabs from Ra's.
"That's not something you should trouble yourself with, Bruce," replied Ra's icily. "You won't be around long enough for it to matter. No one in Gotham will." I beg to differ, Bruce thought bitterly. A sudden swoosh of brown hair underneath the streetlamp to the battling men's right caught Bruce's eye, but he had to block another kick instead of looking. That better not be who I think it is, he thought.
"Hey! Ra's!"
God. Dammit.
Ra's jumped backward, landing several yards from Bruce and turning toward the source of the voice. Bruce turned as well, glowering beneath his mask.
"Charlotte," Ra's said pleasantly. "I thought you'd gone." So had I, Bruce thought, looking around for that familiar head of red hair. Evelyn wouldn't have left Charlotte here alone. It was probably her plan to begin with to come back. She's got a real problem with listening, Bruce thought.
"You're a terrible alchemist, you know," Charlotte said, flipping her hair out of her face with a jerk of her head. She had her gaze locked on Ra's. "I mean, really. Twelve decades and still the best you can do is a little ground moving?" She scoffed. "When you were with Gregory and me, you couldn't even fix a vase after a week. Evelyn could build a house in that time. And look at you now, Ra's! You've had hours to level Gotham and what've you got to show for it? One demolished building? Hah! If you were half the alchemist Greg was, Gotham would be nothing but rubble and bodies." Bruce, even in the dim light from the street lamp, could see Ra's twitch and curl his upper lip at Charlotte. "Looks like you're all bark and no bite!"
An angry shout pierced the air. Bruce had turned his attention back to Charlotte, and he assumed the shout was from Ra's, Charlotte's comments finally getting to him. Then he brought his eyes back to the villain just as a green light blinded him, and he caught a glimpse of scarlet hair flying and his heart sank down into the soles of his feet as the alchemic light engulfed the entire street.
"Evelyn!"
I didn't really have enough time to make something to bind Ra's to. Actually, I was contemplating a trash can when the glint of an unbroken hand mirror, sticking up from a dumpster caught my eye. I snatched it up, grinning.
I hadn't told Charlotte my plan because I knew she'd never let me even attempt it. Not with how little alchemic experience she thought I had. Truth is, I knew more alchemy that her and Greg had taught me. After I finished training with them, I started to learn alchemy, transmutation circles, formulas and such on my own, teaching myself through trial and error (and a lot of it). The trick I was planning to use on Ra's was something I'd picked up from a website, one of the few that I found on the web that actually worked. It was a transmutation to bind someone to something inert. The only thing I'd ever even tried it on was a cute little white mouse that I bound to a dollar-store compact. It had worked, though, but I never really learned how to get the thing back out after I'd bound it.
Good thing I wouldn't have to worry about that happening with Ra's.
The only flaw in my plan to bind Ra's to the hand mirror I'd grabbed was that it would take an enormous amount of energy. Energy that I wasn't sure I had anywhere. I could only hope that what I was planning wasn't going to kill me. If it did, then my entire plan wouldn't matter because there'd be no me to live in the Gotham I saved. If it did work and it didn't kill me, though, then that psychopathic bearded fiend would be locked up, even if it was just temporary. I mean, if anyone ever broke this mirror, then Ra's would be out, and he'd be back with a vengeance.
As I made my way after Charlotte (I'd sent her ahead to distract Ra's while I tried to find something to bind him to) I drew a transmutation circle on the face and on the back of the mirror. I didn't have my chalk, so I pulled off my glove and used the sticky blood that had accumulated all around where the ninja had slashed me. Blood would probably be more effective than chalk, anyway.
The transmutation circle took up the entire face and back of the mirror, and it was one of the more complex ones that I knew. I just hoped that I didn't screw it up anywhere, or I might be the one getting stuck in the mirror.
That would certainly be a very bad day for me.
I finished the edges of the circle just as I rounded the corner and Ra's, Bruce and Charlotte came into view. I knew Charlotte must be doing a good job of distracting Ra's, because she was shouting something about him being a lousy alchemist. That'll push his buttons, I thought with a small grin. It would certainly press mine. I didn't even stop, but sprinted towards Ra's, my bare hand covering the back of the mirror. I saw Bruce turn his head as I let out an enraged shout and slammed the mirror's face onto Ra's' back.
When glass and blood collided with Ra's, a bright green light ignited and flared, lighting up the entire street, cloaking Ra's and myself and blinding anyone who was watching. I could barely hear someone –Bruce, I had to assume, unless Charlotte just had an enormous boost in testosterone—shout my name, and the sound practically wrenched my heart right from my chest. Great. Now I'm feeling guilty for doing this since it might kill me, I thought cynically. Typical.
There was a sudden force against my hand as the transmutation surged up suddenly, and the force sent me flying backward and disoriented the hell out of me. So much that when I hit the ground, I couldn't tell if the blackness I was seeing was the asphalt or the night sky. I determined after staring past the floating white orbs that currently dominated my vision that I was lying on my back, staring up at the sky and the lights from the buildings around me. My ears popped and started to ring, and the white spots turned to black and overran my vision and unconsciousness reigned and I was out.
"Evelyn!"
"You idiot!"
This last statement was from Charlotte as she ran to catch the mirror. It had flown several dozen feet into the air after the transmutation had reached its climax, and due to the fact that Ra's was nowhere to be seen, she had to guess Evelyn had actually succeeded. "I can't believe she even attempted that! I would never have tried that at her level!" Charlotte caught the mirror in both hands, staring at the now gray glossy surface. It offered no reflection.
"She did it," Charlotte said, unbelieving. "She really did it. Look!" The brunette and accomplished alchemist stared up, bewildered, at Bruce. The vigilante, however, was bent carefully over Evelyn. Charlotte's expression turned to one of slack blankness, her face wiped of all emotion like creating a clean slate. "Oh no." She clutched the mirror in one hand and sprinted to Bruce's side, crouching opposite him.
"She's breathing," Bruce said quietly, gently letting his hand grace the wound on her arm.
"Lucky her," Charlotte said, ever acrimonious. "That kind of transmutation would have killed anyone else without training. She must've learned it well."
"You didn't teach it to her?" Bruce looked up at Charlotte.
"Of course not!" She seemed taken aback at the effrontery of the thought. "Greg and I would never have taught Eve anything like that. We knew she was a baby alchemist, and if she knew how to bind people and animals to objects, who knows what she would have done to those girls at her boarding school? They didn't get along at all, mind you, always resenting her for how much her family owned and—"
"Charlotte," Bruce said evenly, effectively cutting her sentence short. "What about Evelyn?"
Charlotte stared at the red-head, long and hard. On one side, Evelyn could be completely fine. A transmutation like that would have consumed an insurmountable amount of energy, possibly draining it from her cells, leaving only enough for her to stay alive, barely. If that were the case, all that would need to happen would be an undeterminable waiting period until Evelyn awoke, ravenous and eager to consume her weight in food to regain all the energy she'd lost. Then it would just be a matter of running a couple easy tests to ascertain that no serious complications from such a ridiculously executed transmutation existed. That was the best-case scenario. The worst case?
She would never wake up.
"Um." Charlotte pondered telling Bruce a lie or the truth. She could tell him that Evelyn was going to be completely fine, and that she'd wake up in a few days. Or she could tell him both possibilities, and pray for the best.
Charlotte did pride herself on her ability to lie.
"She'll be all right in a few days, give or take," she said with a short nod. "But she'll be hungry when she gets up. All that energy burned needs to come back somehow." She smiled at Bruce, hoping he was convinced.
If he wasn't, he didn't show it.
"I'm taking her back to the Cave," he said, gently and gracefully sweeping Evelyn up into his arms. It was an effortless movement that Charlotte couldn't help but marvel at.
"Should I just wait back at the manor, then?" she asked, pushing herself to her feet, the mirror still in hand. "Before I go, though, I think you should know I know, well,…you know, and that Evelyn didn't tell me and that I found out completely on my own, and that I won't tell a soul." He stared at her, the perpetual glare from his cowl making her cringe slightly. She inhaled deeply, crossed her heart and kissed her fingertips, then extended her fingers as though she were releasing a bird. "Alchemist's honor." He didn't say anything; just stared at her for another grueling five seconds, then turned and stalked off. Probably for the Batmobile, if Charlotte had to guess. "Is that an 'I-don't-care-you-know' glare or an 'I-hate-you-' glare?" she called after him. Silence was her only answer, and she had the distinct feeling she was alone on the street, save for the mirror.
"I'm going to take that as an 'I-hate-you' glare."
For a long time, I thought I'd died.
After the transmutation had climaxed and sent me flying and I blacked out, I thought I died. I thought that after the darkness of my subconscious had faded into light, and I saw myself (it was a total imaginary out-of-body experience) on the ground like I was dead, I thought I was dead. I thought for sure I was now a specter, floating next to my corpse before I was dragged to the other-side by some unseen force.
Then Bruce entered my field of vision in a bunny suit, and I figured I must be dreaming.
Luckily I was, and I awoke with quite a start in my bed back at Wayne Manor. I could feel my heart pounding against my chest like a tribal drum, and I gauged by how long it took my eyes to adjust to the nonexistent light in the room that it must have been late. When I turned to read my digital clock, it was the exact opposite. It was early, almost four in the morning. So I guess, depending on how you look at it, it was either really late or ridiculously early.
Regardless I was alone in the room, and I flung the covers off of my legs.
I was unfathomably hungry, and my stomach growled like a police dog would at someone packing dope and I pushed myself to my feet. The room immediately began to spin and I squeezed my eyes shut.
After my dizzy spell was over and I was done grasping the bed post for support, I made my way across the room to the door.
I opened and was greeted by Bruce, arm outstretched and silhouetted by the light from the hallway. It looked like he was just about to open my door and we stared at each other for several long seconds, me with my mouth open like a turkey in the rain.
"Evelyn," he whispered, and suddenly my chest ignited like it always did when he said my name, and tears sprung unwanted to my eyes. With a small cry I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him at the chest and buried my face into his shirt. I could only guess that the pent up emotions from my decision to attempt a life-threatening transmutation and surviving, coupled with the fact I hadn't eaten anything in god-knows how long caught up with me in an ardent display of tears and choked sobs into Bruce's cotton tee-shirt.
It took almost a full minute for me to compose myself, and when I did I gently removed myself from Bruce's grasp and took a deep, shuddering breath.
"Sorry," I mumbled, still embarrassed to admit that I was pretty sure I was in love with him. "Haven't eaten. Gets me all sorts of riled up and I start acting really crazy." I was staring at my feet. "I think it's just a low blood-sugar issue that I can fix with some tea or—" Bruce's hand was in my vision suddenly and he tilted my chin up. His face was inches from mine, and I knew I must have been redder than an Irishman on St. Patty's Day.
It didn't matter that he and I had been (technically) living together, or that I knew he was Batman, or that he'd saved me more than once, or that we'd shared our first kiss in the Batcave of all places, or that I knew—dear god above—I loved him more than I loved my gerbil from my academy days. (I cried for months after he left on that gerbil cruise my mum always told me about). And it didn't matter that I used to hate how everything on the television or radio was always something about Batman and how Engle couldn't ever shut up about him on Gotham Tonight, or that Michelle told me I'd never get Bruce Wayne for myself.
It didn't matter because every time he was so close that I could feel his warm breath on my lips my knees would start to shake and butterflies emerged from their cocoons to fill my stomach with a fluttering, weightless sensation. My palms went clammy and my limbs inert and I didn't ever think I could keep the blood flowing my brain to keep me conscious.
Then Bruce's lips melded with my own and the butterflies evaporated into pleasant warmth, and the coolness left my hands, and my knees found their strength and I dug my toes into the carpet, lifting my heels to press our lips more closely together. I slipped a hand into his hair, my other finding his cheek and he put one hand to my back, the other my waist.
And then my bad arm hit the door frame.
My eyes widened and I opened my mouth against Bruce's to cry out. I dropped my onto my heels, shuffling backwards, holding my arm and cursing loudly, ending with a shouted, "OW!"
Suddenly a sound was filling the room that I wasn't sure I'd ever hear, and wasn't sure I'd hear again.
Laughter.
And it was coming from Bruce.
I guess all that stress he built up from worrying over me and his definite lack of sleep finally caught up with him and he'd lost his mind. I wanted to ask him if he'd like me to drive him to Arkham or if he'd rather drive himself, but all that came out was, "That wasn't funny." Yet a small giggle as the last syllable of 'funny' left my mouth betrayed my word. Oh, it was funny.
It was a regular laugh riot, it was.
Can you even imagine? An intimate moment ruined by an injury from a ninja.
Boy, I'd have fun explaining that to Michelle.
I joined Bruce in his laughter, then, and laughed so hard my sides started to hurt. I momentarily stopped, and so did Bruce, but just a glance at one another sent us back into our mirth.
When we (finally) calmed, I smiled up at him, one hand still on my bad arm. "So," I began, tracing a circle in the carpet with my toe. "I'm starving."
He smiled, and downstairs we went and, at four in the morning, I had the best breakfast of my life, made by the best billionaire playboy I'd ever had the fancy of meeting.
I didn't know whether I could consider Bruce and me an 'item' or not.
But this was sure a good start.
Thanks for all my wonderful readers and reviewers! I really appreciate all the love I'm feelin' from you all! Thanks and thanks and thanks twelve hundred times over!