Currents
"Change in my pocket."
Gotham
Bruce was hungry. Usually when he woke up Alfred was already there with something, but not today. Slipping on a robe, he made his way downstairs towards the kitchen. As he opened the door he heard laughter. Zatanna was sitting with Alfred.
"You here again,' he said to her.
Alfred and Zee turned towards him as he walked in.
"Wow, not a morning or in this case afternoon person, are you, Bruce,' Zee replied.
"If you think I'm taking you to lunch again, forget it,' Bruce said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
"See, Alfred? That's just what I was talking about. He always thinks everything is about him,' Zee offered to the older man. "Talk about an egotist."
"Well, why are you here than,' Bruce asked. He was a little irritated by her implication.
"You are not the only person that lives here, Bruce,' she explained. "I wanted to thank Alfred for the other day. I've known him as long as I've known you, remember? Jeez, you really need to get over yourself."
"You came to see Alfred,' he replied, a little surprised by this.
"Yes, is that a problem? Can't he have friends stop by,' she asked. "Just because you're anti-social doesn't mean everyone is. It's like he's making my point for me, Alfred."
"I do see what you mean, Miss Zatara,' Alfred replied.
"Don't let it bother you, I know you tried to teach him manners when he was young,' Zee said to the older man.
'Perhaps I should have been harder on him, I admit, but I thought I could teach by example."
"I know you did your best,' Zee offered, reaching over and patting the older man on the hand.
"Thank you."
Bruce stood there with a cup of coffee in his hand taking this all in.
"Well, isn't this lovely,' he remarked. "Don't let the fact that I'm standing right here stop you two. Is there anything to eat, Alfred?"
"Yes, I believe there is still some bacon and eggs from early,' Alfred replied. "I made some for Miss Zatara and myself, but I can heat up what's left."
"So you got another meal out of him,' Bruce said to Zee as he sat down.
"Some people actually enjoy my company,' she replied.
"Very much, Miss, it's quite the change from the usual,' Alfred added.
"Thank you, Alfred,' she said with a smile.
"Could you two 'buddies' tone it down a bit, I'm still waking up,' Bruce snidely remarked.
"There it is again, Alfred,' Zee said. "Just no manners at all."
"I'm afraid it's too late to change it, Miss,' Alfred replied.
"I can see this is going to be a lovely morning,' Bruce grumbled as he took a sip of his coffee.
Themyscira
Queen Hippolyta and General Phillipus sat looking over a package the Embassy had sent down about the suburbs. They knew they couldn't wear their usually attire and wanted to find something that would blend in. As the Queen looked at photos of some of the people from the area Diana was living in, the General was leafing through a catalog. There was a look of consternation on Hippolyta's face.
"I know I'm supposed to say that all women are sisters and we should have solidarity,' the Queen began. "But some of the outfits these women have on make them look like whores. I mean look at this one, if her pants were any lower they would be leggings."
"According to this catalog, those are called hip-huggers,' the General explained.
"Does it explain why you can see her underwear,' the Queen asked.
"Um, no, I haven't found anything to explain that."
The Queen shook her head as she looked at more pictures.
"Perhaps they are celebrating a holiday early,' the General offered.
"What holiday would you dress like that for?"
"Well, this catalog has clothing for every season. There is a holiday in the fall called Halloween, which is apparently a celebration of sluts."
"Sluts,' Hippolyta repeated, not sure she heard the Phillipus right.
"Yes, it seems they celebrate sluts in every profession,' the Phillipus replied. She held out the catalog for Hippolyta. "You see the women are of different professions but each has the word slutty before their title."
"Slutty nurse, slutty policewoman, slutty nanny,' Hippolyta read. She shook her head again and looked at the General. "It seems the world has changed much more than I thought since we were last in it."
"Truly."
The Watchtower
Dinah sat in the cafeteria going over the latest information Barbara had sent about the motorcycle gang, The Lost Souls. Every time she thought about what they'd done a fire seemed to burn through her to make sure it never happened again. It seemed far from heeding her warning; they were bringing in more members. Well, if it's a fight they want it was a fight she would give them.
The sound of a squeaky wheel suddenly caught her attention and then the most horrible smell assaulted her senses. It was like someone had taken an old tire, filled it with horse manure and then lit it on fire.
"Heaven help me,' Dinah gasp as she looked up to see Plastic Man roll up to her table. He was a unicycle with a bell and honk attached.
"The sewage treatment plant is all clear, El Jefe!" he proudly announced.
"The what,' she gasped, covering her mouth and nose with her hand.
'Metropolis. The sewage treatment plant. My latest assignment,' Plastic Man said and then honked his horn. "I checked out every part of it just like your e-mail told me too. I even found twenty dollars! A-ring-a-ding-ding!"
"What are you talking about,' she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"You e-mail boss, the assignment you sent me!"
"I didn't send you any assignment,' she replied. "Jesus, could you just move back like ten feet, I can't take it."
"Well, you e-mail said to be thorough."
""What e-mail,' she gasped. Dinah turned to the side, taking a couple of breaths. "I didn't send you any e-mail, you imbecile!"
"You didn't?"
'No. Jeez, go take a shower or at least hose yourself off."
They both heard a chuckle from another table and turned to see Wally smile and raise his glass.
'We're even, buddy!"
He got up and disappeared from the room before they could say anything.
"Oh, that's rich, that's rich,' Plastic Man laughed. "He got me, fair and square; he got me good with this one! A-ring-a-ding-ding-Ding!"
"I think I'm going to be sick,' Dinah said, holding her hand over her mouth.
"So boss, do you at least want the twenty?'
Dinah felt herself gag as she imagined where the twenty had been. She violently shook her head and just pointed towards the door. Plastic Man turned on his wheel and looked at it.
"What? Is someone coming in?"
"Get out!"
"Aye-Aye, captain! I'll just leave the twenty here in case you change your mind."
Plastic Man set the bill on the table in front of Diana and then moved back. He turned and honked his horn as he wheeled himself out of the cafeteria. When he was finally gone, Dinah took several deep breaths. Using a napkin, she pushed the twenty as far away from her as possible.
"I hate that guy!"
Gotham Heights
The group of worshippers had just finished. Cubby walked around with a laundry bag collecting everyone's bloody robes. He was still wearing the pointy hat.
"Good work in there people, good work,' he said. "I think we really showed there is no I in team today. That was a ceremony any Satan worshipper could be proud of."
"How's the eye, Ted,' Dottie asked.
"I think it's going to swell shut,' he replied.
"You're lucky, I thought that goat was going to take it out when it kicked you,' Carl offered.
"Well, it feels like it did."
"Here's some ice, Ted,' LuAnn said, handing him an ice bag. "There's cake if you feel up to it."
"I could eat something,' Ted admitted.
"Well the good news, folks is we did it,' Cubby stated. "We sacrificed that goat just as the book said to. So it's only a matter of time before we start seeing the results. As an added bonus, I've got a spit all set up in the backyard for the barbeque, so the goat isn't going to waste!"
"Oh, yes, that reminds me, everyone the new couple, Clark and his wife, from across the street are going to be at the barbeque,' LuAnn said. "Some of the other neighbors will be there too."
"The model's going to be there,' Ted asked.
"Yes."
"Well, that is good news." A smile crossed his face as he held the ice pack to his eye.
"Remember to bring your appetite's cause there's going to be plenty of food,' Cubby said. 'Oh, Betty, dear, you have a little blood in your hair there."
"Thanks Cubby, I must have missed that,' she replied. "I get so caught up in the ceremony, you know."
"It is exciting," Jenny admitted. "And this time I wasn't even high on the pot."
"Oh, I was,' Betty stated.
"Yeah, me too," Dottie added. Several others nodded in agreement.
The Watchtower
It was Diana's turn to work a shift and it felt good to be active again. She always felt comfortable on the station. It had been her first home when she arrived in the Man's world so it always held a special place for her. It had served as a bridge while she got acclaimed with all the changes. As she rounded the corner, she ran into Batman as he was heading into one of the small computer rooms.
"Congratulations, Diana, one week, I didn't think you'd make it,' he said to her. Diana was in a very good, almost a playful mood and decided it might be fun to challenge Bruce a little bit.
"So are you admitting you were wrong, Bruce,' she asked.
"No, just that you're more determined than I expected."
"Part of my training was to learn to adapt," Diana said.
"The suburbs are hardly the battlefield, Diana,' Bruce replied.
"No, but the principals are the same. Why is it so hard for you to believe I can do this, Bruce? Surely by now you can see I will win,' she asked.
"It's been a little over a week, Diana,' Bruce replied. "You're only a quarter of the way there, a lot can happen in that time."
He walked into the computer room but she followed not wanting to let it go.
"This is some kind of test, isn't it,' she asked.
"Why do you say that?"
"Why do you answer a question with a question, Bruce?"
He gave her a small smile as he pushed back his cowl and sat down at the computer. She had to admit he was a handsome man, but he was always sending such mixed signals.
"Different worlds, Princess,' he replied, but she held up her hand to stop him.
"I've heard that before and I've been thinking about it," Diana offered with a smile. "Your two worlds theory implies that I wouldn't fit in your world, but who said I had to? Why wouldn't it be that you would have to fit in my world, Bruce?"
"A world of wealth and privilege? I grew up in that world, Princess."
"Yes, that's true,' Diana said, moving along the front of the computer station until she was right in front of him. "But again, that is still your world, Gotham. I've seen you playboy cover and how you make the papers with your latest young female conquests. My world is in Washington, Bruce, Embassies and diplomatic events. In my world it would be my name that came first and you would be my latest conquest."
"Oh really,' he replied, a little surprised by her.
"Absolutely,' Diana affirmed. "So you see it's still in question whether you could fit in that world. Can you picture yourself being number two, Bruce?"
There was definitely a challenge in her tone, he realized. This was a side of Diana he hadn't seen before, an almost mischievous side.
"Since you aren't going to win, I guess we'll never know."
Diana leaned forward over the computer with a rather tempting smile on her face.
"Care to bet on it, Bruce?"
Leaning back, Bruce raised an eyebrow and couldn't help smiling.
Gotham Heights
Clark had the house to himself. He'd finished up some of his prep work for the Zatanna interview and really had nothing else to do. As walked into the living room, he couldn't help noticing that Diana had straightened it up before she left. The phrase, a place for everything and everything in its place came to mind as he looked around the room.
If he'd learned one thing about Diana since they'd been living together it was that she liked things a certain way, a very specific certain way. He wasn't exactly sloppy either, but she took it to a different level. It seemed she was a woman of strong opinions on just about everything. He knew it was juvenile, but he couldn't resist moving a couple of the items on the table just slightly. He smiled as he pictured her walking into the room and immediately putting them right back the way they were before.
He grabbed a Coke out of the refrigerator and walked out onto the deck. For a moment he just closed his eyes and soaked up the sun. He always felt connected to it, not just because of his powers. It was one of the differences between most of his teammates and him. They grew up in the city for the most part and had an urban sensibility. Cities ran on clocks and schedules. It was an artificial, man-made rhythm that rarely took into account the changes in nature.
Clark had grown up on a farm, a rural agrarian sensibility. Life was regulated by the seasons and the weather. Your day started at sun up and ended at sun down. It had a completely different rhythm to it than the city did.
He'd read somewhere that when mass, universal public education started in the late nineteen century it was the captains of industry that were some of it's biggest proponents. For them it was a very practical matter of teaching the new arrivals from the farm how to fit into the mechanized world of the Industrial Revolution. The first thing schools taught was how to tell time. Bells were used to get the new workers used to the factory whistle. Reading and math skills, at least the basics were taught so the new workers could follow written directions and do simple calculations. Desks were all in rows almost like an assembly line. If you go to a preschool or kindergarten class at the beginning of the school year even today you can still see the remnants of the schools original purpose.
While he'd lived most of his adult life in Metropolis, that natural rhythm of the farm was still deeply ingrained in him. It was a slower, more relaxed lifestyle. It was still full of constant worries, but everything was tied to the rhythm of nature.
As he stood there enjoying the sun on his face, Clark thought about taking a swim, but he'd already swam more laps than he could count this morning. His eyes drifted over to the Jacuzzi. Neither of them had used it yet. He checked the controls to see just how hot he could get it and smiled. Since he had the house to himself, a hot soak sounded perfect.
He went upstairs to change into his swimsuit, just in case Diana came back before he was done. As he was about to leave the bedroom, he saw the book she'd been reading. He remembered her asking to borrow it and went over to see what it was. The Lines Shift was the title and for the life of him he couldn't remember it. He turned it over but the back blurb didn't ring a bell. He decided to read a little while he soaked to see if it came back to him.
Checking the temperature as he came out onto the patio a smile crossed Clark's lips. He slipped off his robe and eased himself into the very hot water.
"Oh, that's perfect" he said aloud. He could actually feel the heat even through his skin. He settled back, getting comfortable and then reach for the book. He wasn't planning on reading it all, just refreshing his memory so he started where Diana had put her bookmark.
Prefect Castor hung up the phone with a deeply worried look on his face. The Central Committee had taken notice of the murders and was concerned. In the battle for the hearts and minds of the citizens, this was just the sort of thing to sway them. If the Revolution couldn't offer basic protection against such horrible crimes, the citizens would start to look elsewhere. The Central Committee made it very clear they wanted these murders solved and quickly.
The pressure was squarely on Prefect Castor's shoulders.
He pressed the intercom and his secretary's voice came on immediately.
"Yes, Friend-Perfect?"
"Has Friend-Sergeant Booker and his chief suspect returned?"
"Yes, he is interrogating him as we speak. He believes he will have a confession soon."
"Have them both come to my office, please."
"Right away, Friend-Prefect."
Castor flicked off the intercom and opened the file again. This case troubled him deeply. It wasn't just the pressure from the Central Committee, but the facts themselves. These murders happened in highly populated areas of the Capital, yet there were no witnesses. The violence of the killer was far more than the usual. The coroner's point that the cuts were made by a skilled hand also troubled Castor. If there was a monster on the loose like Castor believed, his security forces were ill equipped to handle it. For the most part they were thugs, foot soldiers or Party members. For the ordinary, everyday crime and keeping order they were fine, but this case needed a skilled mind to solve it. Castor knew it was beyond his men's ability and probably beyond his own. He needed results, real results and quickly.
There was a knock on the door and he called to enter. Sergeant Booker hauled in a little old man and thrust him into the chair in front of Prefect Castor's desk. It was obvious the man had been beaten rather badly.
"Good news, Friend-Prefect, the suspect has just confessed,' Booker announced.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, tell him,' Booker replied, and then roughly nudged the old man.
"I-I-I did it. I-I kill-kill those girls,' the man managed to say.
"I see,' Castor said, glancing down at the file. "Why did you cut off their fingers?"
The old man wasn't prepared for this question. He would admit to anything to stop the beating, but details were something else.
"Answer Friend-Prefect,' Booker shouted.
"I-I, um, ah, souvenirs?"
Castor looked at the man for a moment and then nodded his head.
"Have him returned to his cell, Sergeant, but stay for a moment, please."
Booker opened the door and signaled two of his men. They came in and dragged the old man away.
"Close the door, please,' Castor said.
Booker did as he was told and stood waiting to hear congratulations on solving the case.
"He didn't do it, you know that don't you,' Castor asked.
"He confessed to it, Friend-Prefect."
"After some persuading yes. You saw the bodies, Sergeant, the fingers weren't missing," Castor said. "I would imagine the murderer would know that."
"He confessed, Friend-Prefect,' Booker repeated.
"Yes, hold him for now, but you should know the real killer will strike again. It seems we have a serial killer on our hands, Friend-Sergeant."
"He confessed."
"Thank you, Friend-Sergeant, that will be all,' Castor said, dismissing the man. The sergeant didn't know what to do; this hadn't gone the way he expected. He stood there for a moment, but then nodded and left the office. After the door closed, Castor got up and went over to his files. The file he wanted was right in the front. Avignon, he was the man to solve this case. The problem was getting him to do it.
Themysciran Embassy
There was an excitement in the air as Queen Hippolyta and General Phillipus came through the portal. Maya, the Amazon filling in for Diana while she was away, was waiting for them and bowed to her Queen.
"Welcome to the Embassy, you Majesty."
"Thank you, Maya, but let's not stand on ceremony today,' Hippolyta said. "The General and I are just passing through. Is our car ready?"
"Yes, my Queen, everything is prepared,' Maya replied. "If I may, I would still feel better if we let the Princess know you were coming."
"Where would the fun be in that,' Hippolyta said with a smile. "No, I think surprising my daughter is the best thing."
"As you wish, my Queen,' Maya answer. "We have the clothes you request. They are laid out in the royal suite waiting for you."
"Excellent, we will change and be on our way."
"As you wish, my Queen."
The Watchtower
There was an extra spring in Diana's step as she entered the cafeteria. Her little verbal joust with Bruce had only added to her good mood. As she got herself a cup of coffee, she saw Wally waving her over. Smiling, Diana went over and sat down at the table with Wally, Shayera and Mari.
"Long time no see, Diana,' Wally said.
"Yes, it doesn't seem like I haven't been here in a while,' she admitted.
"So how's married life?"
"Fine."
"Good, good, so have you seen each other naked yet,' Wally asked.
"Wally!" Shayera shouted. "What is it with you and wanting to know if they've seen each other naked?"
"Curiosity."
"So have you,' Mari asked. Shayera gave her a look now.
"No, of course not,' Diana replied.
"Aw, that's too bad,' Wally offered.
"No, it's not,' Shayera said to him.
"Well, at least it's some good news for Zee,' Mari said with a laugh. "She could probably use it after the incident."
"Why would it be good news for Zatanna,' Diana asked. "Where is she, by the way? She's usually right here with you three and Dinah."
"You mean you haven't heard, I thought everybody had heard by now,' Wally asked.
"Heard what?"
"Zee kind of blurted out something she didn't want anyone to know," Shayera said. "It was rather embarrassing. I think she's lying low for awhile."
"What did she blurt out,' Diana asked, interested in this.
"You really don't know," Shayera asked.
"No, what?"
The other three looked at each other, not sure what to say. Of course, Wally took a stab at it.
"Zee was hot for Superman and wanted to go out with him.'
"Wh-What,' Diana said.
"She wanted to jump Clark's bones, "Wally said louder. "Boy you super types really have problems with your hearing sometimes. You should have Ray check that."
"It isn't like that, Diana,' Shayera quickly spoke up.
"She wasn't interested in going out with Kal?"
"Well, no, she was, but she decided with Lois and everything it was more trouble than it was worth,' Shayera admitted. "We were teasing her about it and she kind of blurted out to everyone that she didn't want to date Superman anymore because it was too hard."
"So she's not interested anymore,' Diana asked.
'Well with him already dating Lois, never mind sort of being married to you, it seemed way too complicated,' Shayera said. "Zee would never make a move if she thought he was already with someone."
"She just thought he seemed like a nice, handsome guy and was interested in a date, that's all, Diana,' Mari added.
"Oh, I see."
"You know it's been a whole week, how come you haven't seen each other naked yet,' Wally asked. Shayera reached over and smacked him.
The Watchtower – Transporter
Dinah came in and walked towards the transporter pad.
"Gotham, Jonn."
"Of course, Dinah."
"Hold up a minute,' Batman said as he entered the room. He walked over and climbed up on the transporter pad next to Dinah.
"You're going Gotham,' he asked.
"Yes."
"Is this about that motorcycle gang?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Are you still determined to fight them all,' he asked.
"It's personal, Bruce,' she replied. "I know Gotham is 'your city' and all, but I'm doing this."
"What is it with women and attitude today,' he grumbled. "I've been getting it everywhere I go."
"Bruce, they attacked a women's shelter and badly injured someone that I said I would protect. Now they are bringing in more members,' Dinah said. "I'm not going to let them hurt her again."
"I read the reports from Oracle too, Dinah."
"Then you know not to get in my way."
"I wasn't," Bruce replied. "I was going to offer to help."
"Wh-What,' Dinah stammered, not quite believing what she'd heard.
"You said it earlier, Gotham's my town,' he stated. "I'm not going to allow them or anyone else to attack innocent people. Besides, I think you could use the help."
"All right,' Dinah agreed.
"Two to beam down, Jonn."
'Wait,' Dinah suddenly shouted. "Jonn use the internal sensors for me please."
"What am I looking for, Dinah?"
"Locate Plastic Man,' she replied.
Jonn worked the controls and then looked over at the transporter pad.
"He's right here, well, actually, you're standing on him, Dinah."
A growl came from her lips as she stepped to the side.
"Get-Off-The-Platform-Now!"
There was a moment of silence and then Plastic Man oozed off the platform and moved across the room.
"Okay, now transport us, Jonn." She watched Plastic Man slither across the floor towards Jonn.
"I hate that guy,' she grumbled under her breath.
As they disappeared Plastic Man transformed into a coat rack. He leaned into Jonn and whispered. "I think she's coming around."
"I believe you're mistake,' Jonn replied.
"Call me crazy, but I think she's starting to like me! A-ring-a-ding-ding-Ding!"
"You are crazy."
Gotham Heights
Hippolyta and General Phillipus sat in the back of the limo looking out at the houses as they drove through the suburbs.
"Are you sure this is the right place,' Hippolyta asked. "All the buildings look the same."
"Yes, your Majesty, I'm sure,' the driver replied. "Are you sure we shouldn't contact the Princess and let her know you are coming?"
"No."
"How much further is it,' Phillipus asked.
"Just a few blocks, General."
"I can't wait to see Diana's face when we arrive,' Hippolyta whispered with a smile.
Gotham
Zatanna had been having a wonderful day. It seemed the publicity and her fame had created quite a stir in the city. The fact that she was in the paper photographed with Bruce Wayne hadn't hurt either. Invitations had been coming in all day for her. She'd just come back from a luncheon with some of the leading citizens of Gotham and there was a dinner party later. Things were definitely turning around for her.
She walked into the empty theater to check on her props and pick up a number from her dressing room. She didn't mind, liking having this time alone to go over everything before the crew arrived. She was a professional and made sure first-hand everything was as it should be. She gave her equipment the once over and was just about to head to her dressing room when a voice called out from the darkened empty theater.
"Well, well, well, hanging out with the swells. Ain't you gone high-class, Zee."
She turned and saw a match strike and then move up to light a cigarette. Silk Cut was the brand, as he never smoked anything else.
"What are you doing here?"
Her tone indicated she was not happy.
"Can't an old friend just pop in to say hi?"
"Not you, so why are you really here, Constantine," she asked.
He stepped into the light and there was a smile on his face. John Constantine took a hit off his cigarette and looked at her. He was wearing is usual attire, a grungy trench coat, white shirt and black tie.
"I just wanted to see you, love."
"Sure you did," she sarcastically replied. Zatanna crossed her arms in front of her and stood tapping her foot in irritation as she looked at him.
"You wound me,' he replied. "Here I come all this way to see you and this is the thanks I get."
"What do you want, money? I'm not giving you any and I'm not getting involved in any of your stupid problems,' she fired back.
"What if I just want to take you to dinner,' he said with a smile. "I'll even pay."
She couldn't help smiling at this.
"I'll believe that when I see it."
Gotham Heights
The steam swirled off the Jacuzzi as Clark relaxed and continued reading.
Prefect Castor moved through the marketplace. The refugees and citizens all recognized him and his uniform. They gave him a wide berth. He was here under the canvas looking for a man, Avignon.
They had known each other since the beginning of the Revolution. They were University students together and had joined the cause at the same time. They had been part of the vanguard and fought for a glorious revolution together. Avignon was brilliant, of that Castor had no doubt. He could have had any rank or position he wanted, but he chose to remain on the front lines and fight for the cause. They had drifted apart as the war dragged on and Castor began to rise through the ranks and into the government.
They had a falling out over a woman. That was also the beginning of Avignon's disillusionment. After the Fanatics or Black attacked the Capital and the Red and White made their agreement, Avignon quit the party. He had been in the Capital the whole time and witnessed the brutality of all sides. He should have been executed for quitting, but the Provisional Government needed men that could fix things and Avignon was one of those men.
He kept the lights on and the government turned a blind eye to him. As Castor moved through the crowd he couldn't help but feel a sense of irony that this case brought him back to Avignon. Their falling out had involved another murder and the woman accused of it, Asha.
Just the memory of her took Castor's breath away. She was so beautiful and elegant, of royal blood. The Central Committee wanted to make an example of her to prove to the people all of the Loyalist or Whites were the same. Avignon had stepped in and taken her case. It was meant to be a show trial, but he didn't see it that way. He believed she was innocent of the crime and set out to prove it. Castor had tried to tell him it really didn't matter if she was innocent or not, she was guilty.
That was the day Avignon quit the party. He had dreamed of changing the world, but found the new bosses were the same as the old. Somehow he had got her off, but the damage was already done. Months spent in the worst prison cells in the Capital and destroyed her health. TB was rampant in the prison and she wasn't spared.
Castor knew Avignon was in love with her, but his guilt wouldn't let him act on it. The last time Castor had heard about them, they were living with a former Fanatic named Sasha in the partially destroyed Royal Library. Now Castor needed Avignon again and murder was at the core of it.
As he rounded the corner careful to stay under the cover of the tarps, he spotted him. He looked a little thinner, but still the same. Tall, with a heavy coat pulled up around his unshaven cheeks, those penetrating blue eyes couldn't be mistaken. As Castor slowly made his way towards him, Avignon seemed to sense him and stiffened. He turned and looked at Castor.
"What are you doing here, Castor,' Avignon asked. There was no warmth in his voice.
"The Revolution needs you, Friend-Avignon,' Castor began, but was cut off.
"I'm not your or the Revolution's friend anymore, Castor."
"Be that as it may, you are needed, Avignon."
The sound of the doorbell pulled Clark from the book. He set it down and stretched feeling wonderful. The hot water had been perfect and he was even sweating. As he climbed out of the Jacuzzi, he quickly wiped himself off and slipped on his robe. The doorbell rang again and it was times like this he wished he could use his X-ray vision. He was going to play by the rules though, so he didn't. Clark figured it was probably just the neighborhood kids wanting to use the pool again. With a smile and still sweating, he left the robe open and went to the door.
"Couldn't get enough, huh,' he started to say as he opened the door. Standing there was Queen Hippolyta and General Phillipus. They looked at him, taking in his lack of clothes, the fact that he was sweating and the Queen gritted her teeth in anger.
"General, your sword!"
Clark held out his hands towards them as he took a step back.
"Hold it, hold it, I can explain!"