Perfect Dark pt.17a

[The_NewCatwoman]

**Thanks DoE, actually, I've never seen that one, but I'll see if I can get my hands on it. My favorite Anime Movie would have to be Ghost in the Shell, it's beyond excellent. I can't remember anybody's name or anything, but I remember everything else. Also, the part about that guy and the illusion that he had a wife and daughter, and then finding out that it wasn't true, was the absolute best. (That stupid Pokemon intro is stuck in my head!)**

A.J. sat calmly, eyes forward, legs crossed in Tim's dorm room. Wondering silently what to do next. He'd walked around aimlessly for a few hours in the East Garden's area, so no one would see he was out and about when he was supposed to be sick. East Gardens, which for the record looked more like a war torn country than the beautiful high-class area it had been named for, was a breeding ground for most gangs, and the cruel violence Gotham was synonymus with. Too many children grew up sexually, emotionally, or physically abused on a regular basis there. Incest was all too common, and there were a few-dozen daring nuts who even took on bestiality as an after-school activity. The towering apartment buildings that had been built similar to the one's in Spain, now were grimy, and splattered with thoughtless graffiti, and often hid the horrible crimes and sins commited there in Gotham's ghettos. But the kind he'd seen today showed nothing but thoughtless domination. He'd stopped a young man in his mid-twenties from raping a girl a third of his age. It was things like that that made him remember why he was so hard on people. Why he took so much care in the infliction of pain, why he made sure they didn't forget him when they woke up in the ambulance, shaking from the pain.

"A.J.!" Tim said loudly, interrupting his thoughts. "Man, it's like you go into a freakin' trance!"

A.J. grimaced at Tim's voice level, then leaned back as comfortably as he could against the side of Tim's bed. "I thought you had a lecture every wednesday at 3'? What are you doing here."

"If you had any concept of time, and I can see why you don't, when you regularily immerse yourself into coma's and all, it's 6:30, how long have you been here?"

A.J. shrugged, "I left around 10:30 or something."

"This morning or last night?" Tim asked.

"This morning. I didn't go to school,..."

"For obvious reasons." Tim interrupted, pointing at A.J.'s chest.

A.J.'d had to double up on guaze because he'd started to bleed through the other one's.

"What happened, you and Bruce got into it again?" Tim asked with a snicker.

"I was shot, but don't worry about that, it's a lot worse."

"What else happened?" Tim asked, pulling a dictionary out of his bookshelf and flipping through the pages.

"I let a little girl get murdered." A.J. said quietly.

Tim dropped the book immeadiately, forgetting the childish refrence to "psychosis" he was about to make. "How the hell did that happen?!" he asked taking his seat again quickly.

"I don't know, well I do, but... Look I don't really want to discuss that, I just needed to begin somewhere, and I guess I just found my way here. I can't talk to my parents, they've got their own problems, and if they find out how deep this all really is, Batman'll take it on, and put me out of it, and then he'll probably end up in some drainpipe somewhere."

Tim grimaced, A.J. had no qualms about being blunt, he wasn't at all shy about death, but he did know where to draw the line. At least it appeared he did. "So you come here, and get me involved?" Tim said incredulously.

"I have the brawn and all that, and I know I'm smart, but I'm no dectective, there's things about this that has me wondering where to go next. Where else am I gonna go huh? I don't have the tempermant for what you all go through, because doing what I do involves days, and hours. Not weeks and months, your the only one I know with those kinds of skills. Batman, and Dick would take too long, waiting for patterns and s**t, we don't have that kind of time."

Tim sat back in his chair, worry creasing his frow, after a few moments, his face brightened uncertainly, "Where do we start partner?"

[Panther]

Thanks for the character sketch. Nice to see 'ask and ye shall recieve' occasioanlly comes true. I feel sorry for AJ but can see he is obvoiuulsy incredible capable and strong - both mentally and phyiscally. And it's interesting to see where he is coming from.

I liked seeing him team up with Tim. I think thier characters bounce off each other quite well - better than with others around AJ. Man, that boy needs some rest before he falls over!

Can't wait to see more!

Later,

[The_NewCatwoman]

**Disclaimer: I forget to do this regularily, but to make it clear to those who might sue: I don't own them, and they don't own me! I have legal rights to A.J., Dennis, Dallas, William Warren "Doc" Kyle, Monica Kyle, Donald Dilly (now deceased of course) D.J. Dilly, Caprio Raleigh, his wife the puppet :D, Wes Raleigh. Donatello Raleigh, Bruce and Selina's future baby, Abuela, Nathan Dayland, Jessica Waters (deceased), Jason the Greek, Marvo, Abel, the hebrew mom, Dimanche, Caine, Lolita the vampiress formerly known as Gloria the Prostitute, Bianca Dayland (who is regretfully dead also), and Charlotte Dayland, who'll become Ms. Charlotte Price when the divorce finalizes. And Bill and Jane. I think I got everybody, and am starting to realize how complicated I've made this, "Sleep in the bed you've made" comes to mind...**

**Also, I want to add that this is ONE post is rated R for it's content, and has had plenty of things cut out due to moderator's comments made about a month ago. I'll try to tell it as maturely as possible (in a decent tone for those who're thinking of other things), and apologize if anyone has a problem. This part is detrimental to the story. Thank you.**

**Several hours earlier, about 3 o' clock**

Dr. Leslie Thompkins sat calmly sipping a cup of english tea, courtesy of a very english Alfred of course, watching as Selina stared at her from across the room. Which they'd only been doing for the past ten minutes since she'd arrived. Leslie swallowed a mouthfull of the steamy drink, and rested her teacup in one hand as she spoke: "Selina, we both know why I'm here, now I'm not saying it's going to be painless, but let's try to end these sessions as soon as possible okay?"

"Great, just write me a clean bill of mental health, and you can be on your way." Selina said with a strained smile. It wasn't like she didn't like Leslie, she'd been treated by Leslie twice before in her childhood and adolesence. Leslie knew that entire family's worst secrets, atleast when it came to Bruce, Dick, Tim, and A.J. Selina on the other hand, had figured out early in her childhood, that if you told people what they wanted to hear, eventually they left you alone. This went for everbody from her adoptive parents Bill and Jane, to Leslie (atleast it used to), to the police. Unfortunately, Bruce wasn't everybody else. So here she was, in the dining room, having a chat with her therapist.

"Selina, it's obvious you've got alot to hide, and I also have the feeling you're not willing to play by the rules like other people, so I'm going to cut you some slack here. Completely ignoring everything that went on when you were sixteen, how about we focus on the primary's?"

Selina remained silent, focusing intently on what Leslie had to say, 'Just play by the rules, say the standard.' she said to herself.

"When I say primary's, I mean childhood, ages 2, 3, 4, 5, and so on, all up until your parents deaths."

An involuntary twitch shook Selina's eyebrow, one tiny little muscle strain, that told Leslie she'd touched a nerve. Of course Leslie made no active response, something she'd learned trying to drag painful memories out of Tim, and A.J., two of her most difficult patients.

"You're a smart girl Selina, you've had me fooled for a very long time, ever since that first week in August, when you were six, and your grandmother brought you to see me, do you remember?"

Selina slowly nodded, eyes choosing to focus on the floor, as the memory streamed involuntarily into her conciousness.

**August 3rd, 1968**

Selina had been staying at her grandmother's house in Newark, and had been having violent nightmares for a few weeks, waking up with blood under her fingernails, after scratching herself raw. Leslie had been known for being a prominant celebrity therapist, who'd been the first at the crime scene to comfort Bruce Wayne the previous month. The article with their picture was framed on a wall, next to the window.

Selina searched the room, soaking in the wood paneled walls, and standard hanging plants that reached towards the ground. She tightened her grip around her 'Abuela's' hand as she was led to a child-sized chair.

She'd started to panic when Abuela'd gone out into the waiting room to wait for her. It'd been one of the many terrifying experiences she'd had to endure. Atleast until the weeks past, and she got used to it, Leslie asking her questions about her parents, and their behavior. She only told Leslie about the good times, when her father was sober, and wasn't in withdrawl, and would cook them giant breakfasts' and take them to the park, and to plays on Dartmouth Rd. She was careful never to make any references to her father sticking needles in his arms, and watching as his muscles seized in hallowed, red pain. And listening as he threw her mother around in the empty room in the back of their expansive house. She told Leslie about running around outside, as her father worked on his garden, but didn't mention that his 'garden' consisted of opium poppy seed plants, cannibus, and modified marijuana. No, her father wasn't a hippie, Gotham didn't have hippies, Gotham had Depression era kids-turned-adults who grew up to be doctors and lawyers straight out of Yale and Harvard, and St. Johns Hopkins, (forgive if this isn't accurate) who just happened to do drugs. But most of all, Selina never mentioned the nights when he'd drink, and the things he did to her. She never talked about "Bad Daddy".

**end of flashback**

Yes, Selina remembered everything. Every single harrowing detail.

Leslie considered this too, Selina, I want to rid you of whatever is inside of you that hurts you so bad, but it's obvious you're not going to tell me anything that could have caused you to go this route. Only the good things. It's obviously not a repressed memory because you chose everything you wanted to say in advance, you took the easy way out, and it seems nothing's changed since then.

Selina considered this and raised her eyebrows in aggreance.

"Therefore, I'm going to suggest hypnotism" (this is a lovely guesture to a story written by an old board member Syl called 'Child Snatcher's' I believe, it's on the World's Finest Archieves, go read it, it's beyond excellent, but kinda long.)

Selina's hands gripped the armrests on the side of her chair, "You can't do that without the patients permission, because you DO NOT have my permission."

"It's not up to you Selina, in the city-state of Gotham, if a patient is found mentally aggrevated by dstressing memories past, and is under suicide watch, then yes, to save that person's life, all we need is a consent from the board of health, and a spouse or other surviving loved-one."

"You and I both know, Bruce will say yes." Selina said flatly, vicious hate edging through her voice.

"Selina, this can all be avoided if you open up a little, we have sessions every other day for the next three weeks, that's about the time it takes the papers to process, if we can get to the bottom of this by then, then I'll file an appeal, and cancel the treatment. Talk it over with Bruce, see what side of the coin he's on."

Selina nodded, her world was closing in on her.

[The_NewCatwoman]

I just finished reading the entire history of opium in one sitting, Ai! (for this story of course) anybody got a freakin' asprin, and some decongestant? This thing dates back to 3500 B.C., all the way to 1996. I'm not ashamed to say that I learned alot, like not to trust Willam Randolph Hearst (supposedly, I'm not able to prove this, the creator of the Hearst Magazine Company, who publishes Cosmo, and things like that) and his "anti-chinese" sentiments disguised as a drug-awareness type thing.

This is the statement:

"Tabloids owned by William Randolph Hearst publish stories of white women being seduced by Chinese men and their opium to invoke fear of the 'Yellow Peril', disguised as an "anti-drug" campaign. "

This is in 1890 by the way, see what the internet can teach us? :(

[Daughterof_Evil]

Like Panther, I enjoyed seeing AJ and Tim teaming up. Obviously Tim knows how it is being a teenager in Bruce's house, and understands AJ's anger with his father. But what I really want to know is when Tim left Bruce's care, and if it was before or after AJ's birth, and if AJ's birth had anything to do with his leaving.

Never seen Ghost in the Shell, though every otaku I meet chastises me for that fact. I will buy/rent/borrow it at some point, along with Akira and Kiki's Delivery Service and Princess Mononoke, all of which I have also neglected.

Great, and disturbing writing, as usual.

[The_NewCatwoman]

Wow, that was quick, you must be a speed reader.

Ah, Princess Mononoke, you know besides all the references to animals being gods and all that, it was a very enjoyable movie, but you kinda get tired of having it on tape, so I taped over it with Gundam, (Wing, 8th M.S. unit, and Mobile Suit from the seventies. also a little Gargoyles thrown in for flavor.

[The_NewCatwoman]

Tim, left after he graduated from high school, when A.J. was about 4 1/2, A.J. never had anything to do with Tim leaving home, he just grew up is alls.

[Panther]

You /just/ noticed how complcated this is? :p I'll admit my head started to spin a bit when I was loking at all your characters - let alnoe all the DC/WB owned characters. Good look sleeping! :D

About the drugs - was that a website or a book? I always enjoyed reading about drugs in the 19th century. And the 60's of course. Did you know escasty was used then by marragie counslers to help couples get over thier martial rifts? It so amazing people made it passed the 70's...

Poor Selina :( All those not so repressed childhood memories.

BTW, we haven't seen Mila in a while - how's she been?

Later,

[The_NewCatwoman]

Don't worry, we'll see plenty of Mila before this story is over. NEway, it was on the web. I was looking for heroin withdrawl symptoms for this story, when I came across a website with the history of Heroin, or Opium, I'm not sure which one.

Yeah, about that whole looking up drugs thing, I do that often too, there's a new story in the January 31st issue of Rolling Stone about a boy named Josh Robbins, who died nearly two years ago from a legal drug called 2c-T-7, I believe that's what it was anyway. Also, yeah, I was watching a report on Ecstasy on Nightline or something, about a year ago. It was talking about the effects, and the penalties for being arrested with Ecstasy on your person. It's amazing. I like to know these kinds of things because I usually have atleast one drug-related offense in all my stories. i.e. Caitlin and the 'Happiness' pill, Bruce getting cold drunk, in Breakdown and Perfect Dark, and all the nice little drug episodes in this story.

And, no I don't do drugs, I can't write if I have a stroke because of smoking weed and all.

C-ya!

[The_NewCatwoman]

**The rated-R post continued**

*6:59p.m.*

A.J. pulled on a pair of black, Dickies brand, twill pants, and a gray sweater, taking care to bag the clothing he'd worn that morning in the backpack Tim was loaning him. Walking to the mirror, he smoothed his hair down onto his head, and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Thanks for letting me borrow these clothes, I just hope they don't get ruined before the nights over."

Tim waved his hand in a 'shush' motion over his shoulder, "What'dya know about this guy?" Tim asked, as he brought up a search engine.

"You won't find anything about him on the web, try looking up Donovan Finnland."

"Who?" Tim asked turning around.

"Dad was grumbling something about him this morning when he came up from the cave, right before he had his morning gin."

"Everyone's an alcoholic." Tim interrupted, shrugging.

"Apparently his daughter is missing, she was kidnapped last night, she's probably the one I saw."

Tim entered 'Donovan Finnland' into the word box, and waited as the screen immediately filled with results. "Thank you, Yahoo!" Tim said with a casual smile. Clicking on the "Gotham Times" tag, he watched as the screen filled with three separate stories about the ex-executive. "Says here, he was fired from WayneTech a few days ago, something about conspiracy against his company. Apparently they found all kinds of stuff on him, like he was harrasing his co-workers, and filing all kinds of goofy reports on them, slanderous things about light bulbs and crap like that. This other one says that he's connected to the murder of Jessica Waters, that took place last week. Not only was he cheating on his wife with the chick, but he was also the last person seen with her. Sounds like he's in pretty deep, right up to his jugular." Tim said, folding his hands behind his head.

"What does it say about his daughter?" A.J. asked, his voice edged with impatience.

"Chill Winston." Tim said, quoting Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels. "You can't rush this."

"The longer you take, the more likely someone else is gonna die!" A.J. said raising his voice.

Tim hunched his shoulders, "Man, I'm sorry, geez you never raise your voice. Don't start freakin' out on me A.J. The last thing we all need is TWO Bruce's running around." Tim said turning back to the computer and clicking the last article which was on another page. He didn't notice A.J. cringe slightly, the last person A.J. wanted to be like was his father.

"Okay, she was kidnapped, we know that,...uh... they don't know who did it, how, and why, but the little girl is gone. There's not much physical evidence that's out of the ordinary except..."

"Except what?" A.J. asked.

"There were no fingerprints." Tim said quietly, "And there was no sign of the little filaments that come off of rubber gloves on any of the windowsils, OR the bedsheets. It's as if she got up and walked off on her own."

A.J. groaned quietly. "Any sign of her this morning?"

"No, but they've got Donovan on suicide watch, apparently he went balistic. Threatening to kill himself if she isn't found. It seems that she's all he has left now that his wife has left him, and his jobs bye-bye"

"So basically, all we know is we're at a dead-in." A.J. said, running a hand through his hair.

"It appears so."

[The_NewCatwoman]

*Street Smarts is a hilarious game show that comes on at night, it's on the WB in the Southeastern-Michigan area, but I'm not sure what channel it might come on in other states.*

**The Hotel Wolfgang-Astoria, in Downtown Gotham. 9:48pm, November 18th**

Donald Dilly Jr. lay back on the comforter of his hotel bed staring at the ceiling. "If you had any common sense D.J., you'd be at home playing Monopoly with Jill and the kids. But of course, here you are, sitting in a hotel room, making sure this guy doesn't off himself."

Sitting up, he grabbed the remote control and flicked the television on. The 9 o' clock news was just about over, and Street Smarts would be on soon. Sighing, Donald looked at his watch, "Ahhh, time to check on the patient!" he said in a mad scientist voice.

As he walked to the wall, and pulled out the listening device he used to eavesdrop on Mr. Finnland, his eyes flashed across a long, scar that wrapped around his lower arm.

Why was it that rich guys, who did drugs, always beat their kids?

His thoughts flashed back to a night long past, when he was seven. He'd woken up at the sound of loud shouting and ran to his father. He wasn't sure what was going on, but some big guy was pointing something at his father, and his father was being held up by his neck. He'd realized later in life that that 'something' was a gun. He'd been told it was 'business' and sent back to bed, even though he didn't budge.

Eventually the man left, and his father had held him, and assured him that everything was okay. Unfortunately, it didn't last and his father had stopped all of a sudden and knocked him to the ground. Then he'd stood over him, and blamed him, saying that if he hadn't ran to the door like that, it wouldn't have happened. Then he preceeded to pull of his belt, and slowly wrap it around his fist...

lightningpainwrappingaroundbodyathousandscorpions-seizeinonequickflickneedlesrainingdownfromhell-intheskyhollowshockofleatherpullrippinghurting-bleedingneverstoppingpleasemakeitstop...why...won't...it...stopitneverstopslongerandlongerinto-theragingblackholeofthefireinhisbellywiththefierce-dragoncryofthetorturedangelsandheasksagain...why...won't...it...stop...pleasemakeitstop...


...He is the son with the golden crown of hair, who is named after the father with the snake in his heart...


colorsswirltogetherashefallsintopainful-unconciousnessthatmixeswithhisbloodseveraltimeson-theflooranddaddyfallsinexhaustionandblamesthechild-andhescreamsinhissleepatnightstillfortyyearslater-wishingthewasdeadliketherest.

...And even now it runs through him like a train, tearing apart his soul, and still he doesn't blame the father, he blames the weakness...


...But it still doesn't stop it...


don'tcrybabythepainwillgoawayheretakemyhandsaystherabbitandthentheboyasksamiinwonderlandthen-therabbitwithhiskidglovessaysinreply-idon'tknowwhydon'tyougoaskalice

...Please make it stop...





Donald opened his eyes, and quickly rolled his shirt sleeve down to cover the wound. Looking around he realized that his walkie-talkie was buzzing like crazy, that he was in a defense position, and that he'd been shielding himself, maybe from the blow? Taking a deep breath, he stood and grabbed the bulky box from it's position on the nightstand. The garbled static hissed with coded words, asking if Mr. Finnland was alright. Donald responded in code that he hadn't checked yet, quickly he put the suction-cup end to the wall, and put the earpiece in his ear.

Donovan was watching television, the news or something.

"He's watching the news." Donald said, putting his hand to his forehead. "How long exactly until my shift is over?" he asked, looking at his watch again. Surprisingly, it'd been ten minutes since he'd gotten up.

"Not long, about twenty more minutes maybe." came the garbled response.

Not long, not long at all.... First thing I'm gonna do is give Jill and the kids a big hug, let them know I'm still here... ...I'm still here.

[The_NewCatwoman]

As he stares at the pulverised thing slumped against the wall that used to be a girl named Gloria, he thinks, "Why?"

He can never answer the question truthfully, because in his five-hundred years of deathly life, he has forgotten why he started.

And it scares him.

He thinks another thought instead, of how he told her to leave, showed her her fate and everything, all it took was a single bullet.

He knew she wouldn't leave, the sired are connected to their "parents" for the rest of their existence. They honor them as they would've honored their natural birth parents.

He looks at her again.

Her matter is splashed across the wall in grotesque abstract art, and her eyes stare forword without a soul to claim them.

And he remembers something:

That he was supposed to be careful with this one, they go so fast now, it seems to prove that he might do the same to his beloved.

To do that would be unforgivable.

And then he remembers why he does it all:

To make a punishment fit for taking away the one life he valued above all others:

Dimanche.

[Panther]

I was really impressed with how you portrayed Donald. I got a sense of how messed up his.

It was also a fine display of writing when you connected the little girl with that scene ages ago of the guy Bruce fired.



He didn't notice A.J. cringe slightly, the last person A.J. wanted to be like was his father.

Aj hasn't noticed he's practicly a Bruce clone?


Also - may I ask where your fascination with vampires comes from?

later,

[The_NewCatwoman]

**Panther, actually, it's a fancination with the darker side of life, and what it does to people's psyche's. All the worst elements of life there for people with the least amount of sanity to puzzle, and play with.**

Bruce:

I'm sitting here in A.J.'s room, it's late, at least for normal people it is. Already 10:15. *sigh* My son, the escape artist has done it again. Even though I had to carry him home with his intestines practically hanging out. And he missed school today. And his mother has finally gotten out of the hospital. He still persists to kill himself. I suppose I am no better, but there are boundaries to life. He is still a child, and under MY rule.

No child of mine is going to kill himself.

And I won't tolerate insubordination.

It was an unspoken truce of sorts: He stays home and recouperates, and I can sort out this condrum of staggering events. WITHOUT, the added threat of finding him with a newly amputated arm. But as usual A.J. goes by his own commandments. I can picture him laughing at all of us. The stupid people. Right now...

That's a terrible thing to say about your son.

I'm sorry I even thought it.

As I rise from his bed, in the dark quiet space of air around me, I feel a ripple of pain in my stomach. It is deep and quaking, and it tells me to vomit. And my thoughts turn to myself.

A.J. is somewhat safe in his adolecence. He has no wife to worry about him. He has no wife to cheat on...


Helena.


Her name rings throughout my head like a sonic boom.

It is poison to my tongue.

Yet, it's still there, after all this time, and I know it is only a matter of time before the beast reclaims my soul. And my drives stalk her again.

It tells me I am the hunter, a Wolf, a warrior who deserves the fruits of my labor.

She is a doe, not an innocent of course, but one willing to let me partake of her lovely feast. And in my bloodlust, I will take her again.

I force the images out of my mind.

My love is for my wife, first and foremost. Alpha to Omega.

She is where my soul rests and finds comfort. And wrath.

She bore me a son, and a kind of love that I had thought lost. She understands my pain, and my hatred. And still she continues to love me. We make love, not lust. And it is just, and perfect. Just as it was meant to be. There is no room for betrayal in this house. One ally is a greater force than a thousand enemies. We WILL win this war.

**

Helena:

I lay rubbing my stomach, damn cramps. I hate this.

I turn onto my stomach and stare at Dick, who is laying beside me. He is asleep, and I long to curl up in his arms, and forget for awhile.

Another one ripples through my womb. The price of being able to bare children is paid once a month. In full.

I inch up closer to him, and lay my head on his bare stomach, and begin to trace his muscles. His still incredibly fit, even after all this time. He easliy catches up with the boys whenever they play tag. And he likes to cook them all kinds of old Gypsy recipies he learned from his grandfather. And sometimes we combine our Gypsy/Italian roots to form brand new dishes. He makes it so much fun to be at home. Away from the lonely, crowded streets of Bludhaven. Away from the bullets that tear through homes, and playgrounds. Leaving damp puddles of mother's and children in their wake. Little scrapy runaway dogs wandering the neighborhoods, snapping at your heels when you don't throw them anything. Everyone's so darn bitter.

I'm glad I have my husband, with his overly-optimistic attitude about his condition. If he ever has any grief, I don't know about it. But I guess he saves the hostility for Bruce.

Dammit.

I thought,... I'm thinking about him again.

It was odd, almost dreamlike. We didn't make love, or have sex... We conquered the Ming Dynasty, and charted Apollo 13 all at the same time. It was like drinking anitfreeze, it's so sweet, but it kills so quickly.

Sometimes I forget, and it's easy to because it feels so unreal, but I quickly remember once that stabbing feeling races up my spine.

Then I chant: I love my husband, I love my husband.

And it's true, I do. He is everything that's right with my world. If I didn't have him, and the boys... I'd be dead.

He taught me to fill the space my parent's left full of loneliness and hatred, with all the good things that had happened, like my work.

I am a soldier in a never ending battle.

It is a passion I take seriously, the opportunity to be a good girl, when everything is so bad.

But sometimes,... I long to be that bad girl.

What Selina once was. To forget the rules, and regulations. My faith even. But Selina found out that that doesn't work for long, and I'm part of the problem. And I admit, that all that time before, when I hated her, I was really jealous. But I took it too far, I took what was rightfully her's. And I liked it. True, I hated it afterwards, but not during.

I don't think she knows. Dick doesn't either.

They don't deserve half the crap we give them.

So I say I'm sorry, whisper it right into my sleeping husband's ear. But he doesn't hear a word.

[Daughterof_Evil]

First and foremost, may I say what an awesome Big O avatar you have? I had no idea you liked that series! What other animes do you like?

Great part, including Huntress in on this love-fest of yours. I didn't notice it at first, but she did have relationships with both Bruce and Dick in the comic series. I liked the first-person POVs, there. It really helps the reader get inside their heads.

Great, as always.

[Panther]

Wow.

You have just demonstrated beyond a doubt you have mastered POV's. It's amazing how well you can get into a character's head. Hat's off! I also admired how you are handeling the personal hell people's consceince can put them through. I eagerly await the next post,

later,

[The_NewCatwoman]

**DoE- thanks, I'll tell you who got it for me later, and yes I enjoy the show, my fave episode is Winter Night Phantom.

Panther- thanks, this is really tearing them up inside, and their dreading the day when they'll have to tell the spouses what the deal is.**

**flashback**

Selina sat in the kitchen of her adoptive-parent's Bill and Jane, clutching her stomach. "Damn!" she said angrily, here she was seventeen, a senior in high school with fourth-level calculus, and all 210 credits and then some under her belt, and a sweet, gentle boyfriend, and she goes and gets pregnant. Ted, her left-hip for thirteen months, wasn't the one she was worried about, he would take it like a man. Bill and Jane would understand too, they were the supportive type. The one person she was worried about the most was the baby.

School wasn't a problem, she could graduate in January so she could have the baby, and Ted could do the same.

Bill and Jane would urge her to keep the baby, and offer their assistance through the whole thing.

But the baby? The baby didn't deserve to have this kind of life to come into. This was all just too damn confusing.

**to be continued**

[Panther]

Hmmm...

Interesting twist. This could lead to interesting complications for present day Selina if she has /another/ child running around somewhere. However, if teenage Selina makes the choice I think she's gonna it seems yet another layer of pyschological pain has been revealed in this modern Gothic tale.

I've really enjoyed the character development in this story to its many characters.

later,

[The_NewCatwoman]

**The full name Theodore Roosevelt Grant belongs to me, but the shorter Ted Grant belongs to DC Comics, Time Warner, blah, blah, blah...

Daniel and Grace in this story, are Ted's adoptive parents, they belong to me also.**

*August 3rd, 1979*

Ted sat shifting uncomfortably in his chair, as he waited for Selina to come out of the gynecologist office. She'd missed her period, and although they both knew what to expect, he still wanted to be sure... He wanted undeniable proof that he was going to be a father.

A Papa.

He began to daydream about the kind of life they'd have, all three of them.

He'd have to go get a job of course, and put off college for a few years.

Selina could stay home with the baby, and on weekends when they needed time to themselves, Bill and Jane, or Daniel and Grace could baby-sit.

All they'd have to do is decide what religion to raise the baby. Daniel and Grace would want him brought up Jewish for sure, but Ted himself had remained Catholic even as Daniel and Grace had dragged him out of bed all those years to go to shabbat services every Saturday. Selina was Catholic as well, but Bill and Jane were Protestant. Hmmmm, should they have him Christened and have a Bar Mitzvah? Would he be allowed to take Communion? Ugh, decisions, decisions.

Maybe they could just agree that since Selina and Ted were Catholic, the baby should be brought up as such, even to the dismay of his grand-parents.

Perfect!

So why did he have a sinking feeling Selina wasn't going to go for it?

**To Be Continued in Flashback**

[Panther]

He's worried about relegion at a time like this?! (And I do not mean to be blasphmous.)

Please post more soon!

[The_NewCatwoman]

**You'll see Panther, and no it doesn't sound blasphemous to me.**

Ted stood quickly as the nurse escorted a sullen-faced Selina back into the waiting room. Her eyes were glassy as he wrapped his arms around her. "What'd they say?" he asked the nurse excitedly.

"Congratulations Mr. Grant, you're going to be a father!" the nurse said smiling, "But I have to ask, for the safety of the baby and all, are you two able to care for this baby financially?"

"Oh yes, my father is going to help us until I can do it myself." Ted said smiling akwardly, he couldn't help but notice the look on Selina's face was considerably dark and pained.

"Selina? Selina, look you don't have to worry, we'll be okay... Selina?"

"She's probably just a little overwhelmed, give her a little while to calm herself." the nurse said resting an assuring hand on Ted's shoulder.

Ted nodded, and grabbed her backpack, so they could leave.

In the car Selina stared ahead, grinding her teeth softly, head rushing.

"Dad's probably going to try to get me to go see Rabbi Rosenberg again, gosh, everybody at the synagogue is worried about me, it's gettin' kinda annoying... Selina, are you okay? I mean, I know this, this was very stupid on our parts but..."

"I never told anyone." Selina said quietly.

"What? Told anyone what?"

"I never told anyone about my father, why I never wanted kids. How I never wanted them to have to feel anything." Selina whispered.

"Why? What'd he do... Did he hurt you?" Ted asked, lowering his voice too.

Selina stared out of the window, thinking carefully about her next choice of words.

**February, 1968**

William Warren Kyle opened his eyes, then winced at the brightness of the sunlight. He groaned and reached up to rub his blurry eyes, and gasped shortly, thin scratches ran over his wrists and lower arms, swelling, and caked with dried blood. An extinguished needle hung limply out of the purplish, blotchy vein in his arm. He slowly and carefully pulled the needle from his arm, sat up and tried to make sense of his surroundings.

He was in the hallway, he could see the huge staircase that led to the other levels of the house, and the living room. Looking down, he felt his stomach seize, as vomit raced into his mouth.

Beside him lay the naked body of his child.

His daughter.

Red, swollen hand imprints showed on her wrists, and bruises encircled her small person. Blood lay around and under her legs. Her long soft black hair lay drenched with sweat behind her, as she moaned from the unconcious pain.

Will bent over, and placed his hand over his mouth to hold in the acid, and tried to stand. Shakily, he walked down the hallway, desperately ignoring the soft clang his loosened belt made with each step.

Stumbling upstairs, he ducked into the bathroom, and shut the door behind him. Putting up the toilet seat, he let his vomit convulse out of his body as hard as he could, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he struggled to grasp what was going on. What it was that made him do this, made him... rape ...his own child. His baby girl. And almost immeadiately, his brilliant mind culminated an anwer. The heroin. Coupled with the alcolhol he was consuming at a regular rate, he was a walking beast. He thought back to what Tom had told him, that he could always count on him. Too bad that offer was no longer valid. Cursing angrily, he stood, and met his face in the mirror. He was flushed, and several more scratches ran down his cheek. Selina had tried to put up a fight, but Will was two-hundred pounds heavier than she was, he probably overtook her easily. Growling a long string of curse words in Spanish, he drove his right hand into the mirror.

His operating hand.

The mirror shattered instantly, raining down into the sink, and onto the floor. Small pieces of mirror clung to and under his torn flesh, and tears of his skin hung down dripping blood.

He smiled viciously, as he punched the mirror again, this time, driving a hole into the medicine cabiinet behind him. Watching detatchedly as an asprin bottle fell into the sink, and shattered.

Looking at his mangled hand, he say that all four fingers were broken, shifted and bent into different directions.

Turning around, he pulled back the shower curtain, and turned each knob until it could go no further. Quickly he stripped and stepped into the shower. Ducking his face under the water, he stood there for a moment. Then ignoring his hand, he began to scrub harshly all over, making sure to get everything. He scrubbed over and over, and harder and harder until he'd reopened almost every cut.

Sinking down in the tub, he began to pray. He hadn't done so for many years after cursing God at the death bed's of his wife and child so long ago, and throwing his rosary onto their graves in hatred. Tears streamed down his face as he rennounced his sins, and begged for forgiveness. Cursing the name "Doc" furiously.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes.

Over the roar of the water, he didn't hear the bathroom door open, and the cocking of the revolver.

He didn't even hear the gunshot.

**

Monica stood panting over Doc's body. Tears flowing miserably down her cheek.

She felt so sick, in her heart, in her mind, and in her soul. She'd tried to convince herself that it wasn't true, and that Will loved Selina too much to hurt her so badly, she'd turned a deaf ear on the situation for so long. Sobbing, she apologized to Selina.

Turning the water off, she walked out of the bathroom and closed the door. As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard a small painful cry from below her. Selina was awake now, and she needed her mommy.

Monica rushed down the steps, and through the hallway. At Selina's side, she knelt down, and quickly gathered her baby into her arms. Rocking her side to side, she began to sing to her softly. Selina buried her face into Monica's neck, and wrapped her bruised arms around her shoulder's.

"My sweet little angel, don't worry, Daddy'll never hurt you again." Monica said standing. Slowly she carried Selina to the downstairs bathroom and began to run water.

Placing Selina in the water, she washed her gently, making sure to get all of the blood off. Then she wrapped her in a fluffy white towel and carried her to the living room. Placing Selina in her lap, the two of them sat in silence until Selina fell asleep. Monica didn't move again until it was late in the evening. Carrying Selina's sleeping body upstairs, she dressed her and placed her under the covers in the guest room so she wouldn't have to take her past the bathroom. Kissing Selina gently on the forehead, she whispered, "He won't hurt either of us ever again."

Back downstairs, Monica picked up a pen and piece of paper, and wrote a long letter to Selina, apologizing about everything. She folded it and placed it on the coffee table, she then took the phone and dialed the operator. "Hello, I'd like to speak to the police please, it's an emergency." she said calmly.

She waited as the line went through, "Hello Police Commissioner Dorcell, my name is Monica Kyle and I live at 473 Inkswell, and I've just killed my daughter's father."

Then she hung up. Walking to the wine case, she pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of vodka. "Here's to you my love." she said as she swallowed. Then reaching behind the bottles, she pulled out a spare gun. Doc had kept the house fully loaded.

Monica sighed, she'd loved Will more than anything, he was the one thing she lived for, and even now, she felt she was nothing without him. Raising the gun to her temple, she fired.

**August 3rd 1979**

Selina stared straight ahead, then nodded slowly. "No, he just was a jerk that's all."

Ted looked at her like he didn't believe her, then sighed and turned the ignition. "Fine Selina, whatever you say."

Neither exchanged another word as they rode back to Ted's house.

[The_NewCatwoman]

**Eight months later, April 6th, 1980**

"Have you two decided what to do with the baby?" Jane Dirkstrom asked as she and Selina sat eating breakfast.

Selina nodded solemnly, and stroked her tummy, which had now swollen to four times it's size. She and Ted had been discussing it for the past few weeks, and had both recognized that they weren't ready for a child. They were giving the baby up for adoption.

Both Ted and Selina had been adopted at early ages, by wonderful families who had really no idea what the two of them had been through in their early years. Both had had suicidal mother's and drug-abusing father's. The only difference was age. Ted had been adopted at three, while Selina was adopted at eight, after her Abuela passed away. They both sometimes sat up late at night recalling how lonely they felt, and how much they'd wanted their Mommy's and Daddy's back. Gradually they'd both learned to accept their new living situations and enjoy their new homes.

Yes, adoption was the way to go.

Slowly she muched on toast, and a few bowls of Frosted Flakes, her mind racing again as always. She stared at the box in front of her, intently studying every corner, every nook and cranny she could. Anything to avoid looking Jane in the face. Both she and Bill had been waiting anxiously for Selina and Ted's decision all week long.

"Selina, come on..." Jane said, nudging her gently on the elbow.

Selina sighed angrily, and knocked the box over, watching as cereal spread out across a small portion of the table.

"Honestly, was all that necessary?" Jane asked, cocking her eyebrow.

Selina nodded, bit her lip, and took a deep breath, "We've,... we've decided to give the baby up. I mean, we're too young to raise a child."

Jane sighed herself, and rested her chin on her hand. "That was a very selfless decision, it would be greedy if you chose to keep the baby, especially when you two aren't even sure if you could raise him right."

Selina nodded, keeping her eyes averted.

"Besides, Bill and I thought you might say that."

Selina pouted, and wrapped her arms around her shoulder's.

"Don't worry Selina, you're doing the right thing, besides, Bill and I will make sure he or she gets a good home, just like your's."

Selina nodded, as she began to clean up her mess. Scooping the excess into her bowl, she prepared to get some more milk so she could eat it, when she felt a weird feeling inside.

"Jane..." Selina said, clutching her stomach, "I think something's wrong." Then Selina bent over, "Ow!" she said cursing bitterly.

Jane looked at her curiously for a second before switching into 'Mom mode'.

"I'll call Bill, you get in the car, I think you're going into premature labor." she said quickly as she ran to get her purse, and quickly called Bill.

**At the hospital twelve hours later**

Selina sat in her hospital bed, staring down at the face of her 8 1/2 pound, 18 inch son. He had reddish-blond curls that clung to his forehead, still wet from birth. He was three-weeks early, but was alot heathier than he should have been. Bill and Jane stood to the side watching proudly, as were Ted's parents. The baby began to suck at the air around him, signaling his need for food. Selina sighed and took the bottle the nurse had left on the bedtable, and put it to his lips. She wasn't able to breast-feed yet, but she had plenty of time. Since he'd been born so early, his adoptive family wasn't ready for him. She'd be allowed to keep him for the next three weeks, then she'd have to give him up.

Ted stood next to her on the bed, his face pale, and his eyes distant as he stared at the boy with amazement. "Wanna hold him?" Selina asked.

"Yeah, sure, it's just that, um, I've never held a baby before."

"Neither have I." Selina said encouragingly, her voice soft and tired.

Slowly she held the baby out to him, and watched wearily as Ted held him in his arms. His eyebrows raised with wonder as he stared down at his son. "What should we name him?" Ted asked quietly.

"How about Theodore Roosevelt Grant Jr.?" Selina said softly.

"Yeah, that's cool." Ted answered.

[Panther]

Ummmm... I don't read the comics so could you fill me in as to who Ted Grant is there? :confused:

thanks

[The_NewCatwoman]

Ted Grant is a professional boxer in the DC comics, his alter ego is the vigilante Wildcat. He and Catwoman had a 4-part miniseries together. He is also a member of the Justice Society of America, and can be seen throughout the book.

[The_NewCatwoman]

**present day**

Selina lay on the bed she and Bruce shared, rubbing in a circular motion around her stomach.

Her eyes stared above at the ceiling, with it's ornate carvings sprawling in all directions. Sixteen months of continuous work had formed the masterpiece nearly a century and a half before, when Bruce's grandfather Solomon had been a little boy.

Everyone in his family had waited until the calmer, later part of their lives to bare and raise children.

She wondered how their lives would have been if she and Bruce had followed this principal.

A small click sounded in her ears as the double-doors of their bedroom opened. Bruce walked in slowly, his eyes on the floor, rather than her.

Selina sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, then rose and walked to him.

He stared off, behind her through the window. His face was tense. Selina wrapped her arms around his head and began to kiss him.

His body tightened and he pulled away from her, his eyes flashing with shame.

Selina frowned slightly and grabbed his tie. Pulling him within an inch of her face, her forehead lightly grazing his, she whispered, "It's cold in here, maybe we should turn up the heat."

Bruce frowned as she pressed her lips to his ear, "I need to know that you'll always love me Bruce."

[Panther]

Uh oh, sounds like Bruce is goning to tell her. To paraphrase a popular French saying - this will surely end badly!

:(

[The_NewCatwoman]

**Darnit, I was trying to edit that before you replied, it felt so poorly written, because I left out alot. Sigh, oh well, this makes for more of a challenge anyway. Thanks for the comments, this story can go from simple to ugly in a matter of posts. Bye**

Bruce's eyes met her's for the first time since he'd entered the room. "Why?" he asked coldly.

Selina stepped back angrily, "Can't I just want my husband to tell me he loves me?"

"No, because you'd never want that, for me to admit something like that, it'd mean that you were somewhere you didn't want to be."

"You're saying you think I don't want to be your wife?" Selina asked, brow knitted.

"No, you're saying that you're no longer by yourself in this, and that no matter what, because there is love there, you can't let your past stay with just you anymore."

Selina turned her back, hiding her hopeless expression. He'd nailed it, and the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. In that second she hated that man more than anyone she'd ever met, and the next she didn't. It was feelings like that that caught her off guard. She'd never had to deal with things like that when she'd lived alone. She felt a hand on her shoulder, it's grip was sure, but gentle. He didn't have to answer out loud, she'd already known the whole time how he felt about her. It was a stupid question.

Suddenly the hand left her shoulder, and she turned around. Bruce was facing the door. She traced his hair line, trying to find an opening into his mindset. "I'm going out tonight, A.J's gone, no telling how long he's been out there."

Selina ignored the stinging betrayal in her stomach, "I'm going with you." she said as if daring him to say no.

Bruce turned around, "You're in no condition to be running around this city, I don't want anything to jeparodize the health of you or the baby."

"What about what I want, have you ever, this whole time, thought about me Bruce? Or were you just thinking about what you didn't want to lose? That's mighty f***ing selfish!"

Bruce stared at her a moment, his eyes on fire. "You--are--not--leaving--this--house." he said his throat constricting with anger and emotion.

"A.J. is my son too, and I have a right to see about him just as much as you do!" Selina said, ramming her finger in time on Bruce's chest.

Bruce grabbed her arm, and held it up. "I don't have time for this Selina!"

"Don't raise your voice at me!" she hissed. "I'm coming with you like it or not!"

**

Dark Angel stood beside Robin on the roof of the Baxter building, watching, waiting for the slightest sign of trouble.

They had absolutely no way of finding out where Bianca's kidnapper was.

Robin pulled his gloves on tighter, trying to ward off the frigid wind. "Dammit, you'd think kevlar gloves would do a better job, I swear, if I get frostbite..."

Angel was sitting on the ledge, trying to think of a better way to find their guy. Vampires were still human right? Given, they still breathed, and all that. They just lived on blood instead of food, because their DNA is altered when they're bitten. So maybe he'd stopped at a bar or two. "Robin, I've got a better idea. We can see if anyone in the bars have seen him in the past few days, maybe they might know where to find him."

Robin smiled gratefully, "Anything to get outta the cold, who'd have thought winter would come so early this year, it's not even the twenty-first."

Angel, shot a grappling hook to the next building. Robin followed suit, and they made their way towards downtown.

--#--

Roberto Kelley sipped his beer, and turned back to the leggy blond beside him. She'd said her name was Francesca. She said she was new in town, and needed someone to "show her around".

Roberto smiled a sly grin, "Now, what kind of man would I be if I turned down such an offer?" He took another sip as he ran his hand through his creamy brown hair. Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he turned around and was met with a sharp punch across his face, Francesca quickly jumped up and ran to the other side of the bar. Crashing to the floor, Roberto touched his face, and growled enraged when he saw blood. Quickly scrambling back up, he froze when he saw who'd thrown the hit.

"You." he said his face melting in terror.

Immediately, he turned and ran out of the bar. Breath racing as he heard the door open behind him.

He reached into his coat and pulled his gun out of his holster, and fired at the dark figure a few feet away.

Turning his head back around, he ran smack into something red. Falling to the ground unconcious, two figures stood over him, contemplating their next move.

--#--

Roberto opened his eyes, but found he could see only black.

"Hmmm, this isn't good Robbie, a concealed weapon, *sigh, how long have you been back from state?"

"Who's there? Where am I?" he asked fearfully.

"That's not what I asked you." came a cold reply.

Roberto moaned nervously, "Three days."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, fresh out of prison for assault, with the intent to kill, and here you are carrying a weapon, something your parole strictly forbids. What do you think we should do about that?" another voice asked.

"Uh eh, I don't know man, *sharp panicky breaths* Where am I? I think I'm still bleeding."

The darkness lifts, and Roberto finds himself staring Robin upside-down in the face. Another, darker figure stood behind him. That was the one he was scared of.

"You, you're that guy everyone's so scared of, the one that hurts people."

The darker one smiled.

"Where am I?"

"Look down." Robin said, pointing.

The wind rustled Roberto's hair as he looked around. He was hanging upside down from lamp post. He wasn't too high up, he could survive the fall. Roberto laughed, "This all you got, you little s**t's."

Angel nodded his head, "We thought you might say that." He quickly climbed the lamp pole, and began to untie the ropes. Taking a deep breath, he raised them, and transferred them to the adjoining lamp post, the one that hung over the highway.

Roberto screamed, as the traffic whizzed by several stories below. They were high enough that you could barely even hear the cars.

"That's much better." Angel said, as he pulled out a pocket knife. He pressed it to the ropes, and looked down at a squirming Robeto. "Robbie, have you seen anything suspicious? Like say a new guy in town?"

"There's a lotta guys who come through here man, lots, a guy kinda looses track." Roberto whined as he glanced back and forth from Angel to the traffic.

"You have to be more specific than that. I've had a pretty rough time so far these past few days, and it was good and painful dragging your sorry ass up here. So either we're gonna get some answers, or we find out what happens to pimps who play over the freeway." Angel said, as he cut into the first layer of the line.

Roberto cried out, as the rope gave a little, and lowered him a few feet.

"Have your girls seen anything, have any of them been missing?" Robin asked from back on the overpass.

"Uh, yeah, my best girl Gloria, she's been missing for a couple a days, left with this guy."

"What did he look like?" Angel asked, as he began pacing across the necks of the streetlamps.

"Uh, real tall, clean shaven, drank a bloody mary, uh... he was smoking too. He promised he'd pay me $600 for the night, bastard never came back."

"Did he have a tattoo, any scars, or anything?" Robin asked.

"Naw, just that he was real pale, like he hadn't been out during the day for sometime. You know outta-towner's, they get that alot, skin real pale and all that. That's how you know someone's not from around here. They're real pale. Natives never look pale."

"Natives?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, folks you see a lot, you might not know by face, but you sure as hell know them by name."

Angel sighed, as he began to pull Roberto back up. Bringing him back to the other side, he cut the rope and let him fall roughly to the ground. Jumping down, he kneeled next to him. "I'm going to be watching you, whatever goes down, you let me know, however you can, you let me know. Don't,... and I can't promise you any kind of extended time outside of state OR the hospital." With that, he walked away.

Robin followed, "Man, I thought we were supposed to get out of the freaking cold, not haul his butt back out into it!"

[Panther]

hehehe - that was a good interogation(sp). I liked the twist they pulled on Roberto. Seems like people are more scared of Angel than they are of Batman - and that probably says a lot.


later,

[The_NewCatwoman]

Thanks, I really enjoyed writing that part more than a lot of other one's. And you asked for it, Mila will be making an appearance in the part 18.

[The_NewCatwoman]

**fifteen minutes earlier, in Bludhaven**

Helena sat cross-legged on the counter, eating a bowl of chicken and stars, while her puppy Taiga sat on his hunches, begging for scraps down below. Sighing deeply, she looked over at Dick asleep on the couch with Dennis and Dallas piled across his chest and stomach. The t.v. buzzed with dead static, muted in front of them. She smiled warmly, beholding the scene, until her eyes fell across the neglected wheelchair in the corner. From this vantage point, it really had no place destroying an otherwise happy, peaceful moment such as this. From a certain angle, no one could really tell that there was anything particularly special about this fragment of time. Except that there was.

Knitting her eyebrows, she rubbed her aching eyes and returned her gaze to the collage of newpaper clippings and articles she found online, written about the mysterious killer over the years. She'd been staring and reading over the material for four hours straight, searching for some kind of pattern, some sembleance of structure in this bewildering case. Of course she had found none.

She groaned angrily, and swung her legs over the side of the counter. She needed sleep. Three or four hours should be enough to get her back on track.

She dumped her bowl into the sink, and dug a doggie treat out of the canister next to the sink to appease the whining pup.

Taiga- Coniferous forest lying between tundra and steppe, esp. in Siberia. she thought, remembering the Oxford definition.

Yawning she entered the bedroom, stripped off her sweat pants, and kicked them into a pile next to the dresser. Standing on the floor mat in front of the picture window, she began to execute a series of Taijiquan moves, starting with the Snake Creeps Down and ending with the Brush Knee Twist. Executing several more, she bowed, and sat on the floor, legs folded. She then rested her hands on her knees and began to meditate, letting her conciousness flow into the back of her mind.

--#--

Dick raised his head catiously from the pillow, and smiled at the sight of his two sons sleeping peacefully. He reached out and fumbled for the arm of his chair, and pulled it close. Then began to position the two boys so as to carry them without waking them. Sliding them slowly off of him, he pulled himself into the bucketseat of his chair, and placed them one by one in his lap. He then slowly rolled them to their bedroom on the other side of the loft, Taiga following closely behind.

Tucking them into their beds, he kissed each on the forehead, and left the bedroom, cracking the door behind him.

Returning to the otherside of the loft, he quietly entered his bedroom, almost surprised to see Helena meditating on the floor. He didn't disturb her, but instead pulled himself slowly into bed, and began to undress. After ten minutes of painstakingly slow movements, he managed to get on his blue-striped drawstring pants, and a gray t-shirt, just as Helena came out of her trance.

He watched as she bowed her head, and prayed for a few more minutes, then ended with a polite "Amen." The same as everynight.

She rose from the mat, and yawned, winking at Dick with a tired smile. Then sighing, she stripped out of the rest of her outfit and slipped into the adjoining bathroom, leaving the door open. Dick listened as she began to run water for her shower, and brush her teeth.

The room began to become increasingly, but comfortably humid as the steam rose and spread throughout their room. Dick folded his arms behind his head and contemplated his position. Tails, he was crippled. Heads, he was married to such an incredible woman like Helena. Tails, everynight he was tormented by nightmares of his past expirences. Heads, he got to wake up and be comforted by her. Tails he couldn't do half the things with his kids that other fathers could. Heads, he treasured what he could do so much more. It was pretty even. He quickly shook the thought away, and looked at the clock. Two in the morning, it wasn't really all that late...

--#--

Helena let the water cascade down her back, caressing her muscles and soft flesh with it's comforting grip. She grabbed the Dial and began to sudze up, lathering all her two-thousand parts equally. Turning her head slightly, she began to trace little doodles in the shower door condensation. "HG+DG 4-ever". :), and :p . Her astrology sign, and then a couple of music notes.

She turned back around, and poured a dime-size amount of Johnson's and Johnson's Baby Shampoo into her palm. Forget that baby crap, she loved the stuff. Running it through her hair, she rinsed and then re-rinsed.

Stepping out of the stall, she shut off the water, and towled off. Running a comb through her tangled hair, she went back into the bedroom to change.

--#--

Dick sat up immediately when Helena came back. Cocking his head onto the side as she put on a fresh pair of underwear and some joe boxer pajamas. Taking a deep breath, he watched as she climbed into bed.

"What?" she asked, as she noticed him staring at her.

Dick shrugged, unable to lose the goofy grin on his face.

Helena cocked her eyebrow as she pushed herself further under the covers, then leaned over and kissed him. But just as she started to pull away, Dick wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed her to his body. She gave him a weird look, but quickly gave-in with a smile.

Dick caressed her with one hand, and ran his other through her damp hair.

"Aw, now look, I would've waited to take my shower if I knew I was just going to get dirty again." she said as Dick began to pull off his shirt.

**The same time in Gotham**

Barbara Gordon turned the corner onto Garland Ave. and hunched her shoulders, every shadow giving her the creeps.

Only one more block and she'd be home safe. Why the hell did she have to get the late shift anyway? Wasn't it just her luck?

She shifted the bag of groceries she carried to her other arm as she began to fish out her housekey. "You can do it, you're almost there, you're almost there.." she thought to herself.

"Mommy, is that you Mommy?" a dark voice asked from the alleyway next to her.

Barbara started to walk faster, as her fear gripped her intestines.

"Mommy I'm scared, make me feel better mommy, I need you so much, I'm so afraid." The voice said, this time more urgent, more pressing.

Barbara tried to run as a hand gripped her arm, bitting into her flesh, and pulling her backwards. Her groceries spread across the pavement with a splatter and a thud, two weeks pay wasted.

Another hand fell over her mouth, as the first pinned her to another man's body. "Tell me you love me Mommy, tell me I'm safe. I've missed you so much." He said, his cool breath licking at her earlobe.

Barbara screamed, "No, don't, please, oh God, don't!"

A knife slid slowly across her neck, "I've been so hungry Mommy, you shouldn't leave your baby so hungry. You've been bad, now I'm going to be bad. A very bad boy."

Barbara began to cry as the hand gripped her tighter in anticipation of her blood.

Then, suddenly the hand was ripped from her face, and the body was yanked backwards. Barbara quickly ran forward and raced towards her apartment as fast as she could.

The young would-be murderer fell hard to the ground, his elbow cracking on the pavement. Above him stood the body of The Dark Angel, his sword trained on his chest. "Speak, I know your hungry, I can see it in your eyes. Speak the answers to my questions, and I might see that a better opportunity awaits you."

Several stories above them, Robin sat watching, face blank, he'd never seen this side of Angel before. It was making his stomach hurt.

He watched for several minutes, then cursed as it began to rain. The raindrops hit him like shards of glass, half-frozen in the bitter cold. But he ignored it, and focused on what was going on below. Angel had just saved Commisioner Gordon's oldest daughter from what looked like certain death at the hands of this guy, and instead of dragging his ass downtown like they were supposed to, Angel was accosting him for information.

Tim groaned, this was making no sense, it seemed that they were really no closer to finding Donovan's little girl than they were that evening in his dorm room.

Suddenly Angel shot up into the air, and landed in a crouch on the ledge in front of Robin, sending the startled figure a few paces backwards.

"I sent him to an abandoned bloodbank where they keep the blood that's too old, or unfit for transfusion, he should find more than his fill." Angel said more to himself than to Robin.

"What just happened?" Robin asked flabbergasted.

"He told me that a new guy's in town, a real badass, at least a few hundred years under his belt. Rumor among his people is, he's the guy that ran Donovan's little girl."

Robin remained silent, a confused look etched across his face, "You're not telling me everything. Like how do you know you let the girl die in the first place?"

"You're just getting around to asking these kinds of questions?" Angel asked boredly.

"Just answer the question." Robin said getting angry.

Angel pointed at his shoulder, "He's the guy that did this to me... ...I just don't know where to find him. I had to make sure there wasn't more than one running around snatching kids."

Robin remained silent, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "So what did you mean by 'a few hundred years under his belt'?"

"Not your concern Robin, it hasn't really that much to do with finding Bianca does it?"

Robin groaned, "Hey man, I'm getting kinda sick of running around out here in the elements chasing some shadow!"

Angel reached forward and grabbed Robin by his collar, "There are people's lives at stake here!"

Neither blinked, only stared uncaringly into his other's eyes, daring the other the move first.

"Angel!" a brusque voice called, tinged with ferocious bite.

Both turned to find the Batman, and behind him by several feet, a very annoyed Catwoman. "Care to tell me what the hell your doing out here?!" he asked, his voice think enough to cut steel.

**

Donald sat in the living room of the apartment he shared with his wife of twenty-two years, and their four children John, Slyvia, Corey and Abigail.

He thought about how tightly he'd hugged all his children when he'd gotten home that night. How they'd had one of those "briefing" sessions around the kitchen table. John talked about the classes he was taking a Gotham State, Slyvia expressed her worries about starting at St. Francis Academy the next morning with all of Gotham's rich kids. Corey talked excitedly about the football game he'd played that afternoon that Donald had of course missed, and Abigail tried to get everyone to play Shoots and Ladders with her one more time.

Now Donald sat alone in the dark, smoking a cheap cigar, and watching detatchedly as the smoke rose in billows, surrounding his head, and encompasing the glass shade of the hanging light above his head. Spotlighting his saddened, shadowed figure.

His thoughts turned back to his daughter, he'd save up for the past eighteen months to pay her tuition, he wasn't sure how he was going to be able to come up with the money she'd need to attend for her senior year. He thought about all the wonderful friends she'd make. How popular she'd be.

He then thought about his own school days, attending boarding schools throught Europe, funded by the clean money his father had made as a lawyer, before he abandoned the practice to traffick drugs, divorcing his poor mother.

His father.

He hadn't meant to freak out like that before, it just.. happened.

Just like Daddy used to say, "I didn't mean to son, if you just didn't make me so angry..."

wordsswirltogetheranddisappearintotheabyss

Then the police scanner goes off, and tells him to get to the station immediately. He's up and leaving before the static hits.

**

Angel drops Robin's collar, and stares distantly at the figure before him. In all the exhilaration, he feels his head go light for the seventieth time that night, but ignores it. He'd be proving his father right. Daddy can't be right this time.

He opens his mouth to speak, but freezes as a giant beacon of light erupts over the sky.

Wordlessly, they all migrate to the source of the signal. Stealth creatures moving soundlessly through the night.

**

Commisioner Gordon stands still as a statue next to the batsignal, watching as his District Attorney, Donald Dilly, his Sergent, Merkel, his top detectives Bullock and Montoya, and the... "other's" arrive. One after the other. It is nearly three thirty in the morning, and obviously their all tired. They've left behind wives, children, warm beds, and safety to stand before him. He regrets immediately the horror he has to show them.

"Two... 'packages'... arrived at the front desk less then twenty minutes ago. They were signed "To Angel with love, Caine." Gordon says looking straight at the shortest figure on the rooftop.

"Bring them up." he says into his hand-radio. His voice is shaky, but he otherwise hides the hesitation in his voice.

Four cops appear from the door that leads into the bowels of the department building. Two cops to each bag. Their faces are blank and pale. They've already seen what's inside.

Gordon takes a deep breath then unzips the first bag, and Robin has to turn away to keep from vomiting. But only because he can't stand the sight of dead bodies.

It is Gloria's body. "She couldn't have been more than fifteen." Gordon says sadly, as his thoughts turn to his youngest at home.

The atmosphere ias heavy as all await the second bag.

Gordon pauses as his hand reaches, trembling, for the zipper.

Slowly he pulls apart the metal teeth with the determination of that only a veteran to Gotham's worst could.

Montoya's and Merkel's faces disappear as they turn away, or shield their eyes. The rest look on, feeling a new kind of dread rise in their throats. Only one steps forward.

Angel reached down and pulled the zipper the rest of the way.

He stared at the bloody mangled body of the little girl for five minutes without a word.

In the back of his head, he knows they've already contacted Finnland, and that it's too late to get to him, as he is five blocks away.

The D.A. looks at him with the same grim thought, and their eyes meet, and exchange a sad realization.

**The Wolfgang-Astoria, two minutes ago**

Donovan Finnland stands in front of the mirror. His face is swallow, and drenched with sweat.

"Funny," he thinks "why didn't I cry?"

He reaches onto the bedside table and cradles the revolver in his hand.

Taking deep full breaths, he looks down at his naked body. He is shaking, but it's not because he's cold, or scared. He's not really sure why.

Walking over to the balcony, he thinks of his baby, his little angel.

Opening the double doors that lead out into the rain and wind, he thinks of calling Charlotte, to tell her, no show her how much she hurt him. But he isn't a cruel man, he just makes a lot of mistakes.

Slowly, he climbs the banister, and finds a way to balance.

Closing his eyes, he puts the gun to his temple, and fires.

--#--

A woman named Evelyn Erics is standing on the balcony enjoying a cigarette.

She hears a gunshot, and ducks down, looking around her frantically for the source.

She watches as the body of a man falls from the balcony of the room in the tower across from her.

She doesn't have the strength to scream as her energy drains from her person.

The body falls for twenty more seconds, then lands with a low, ugly splash in the pool below.

She weakly makes the sign of the cross as blood begins to stain the cerulean-blue water. And swears she'll never swim in a hotel pool again.

[Daughterof_Evil]

I'm sorry, that last line about never swimming in the hotel pool again just made me laugh like hell. Great rest of the story, though, very interesting.

[Panther]

Your writing is so amazing. Very dark and gritty and deep, making the light bits shine out even brighter. I was re-reading teh earlier flashback sequence of the deaths of Selina's parents and was blow away by all the emotion packed tight as a spring into it.

Just to clarify - this has now offically become an elseworlds where vampires (plural) commonly roam the streets? That was just my thought when Angel interogated the guy who attacked Barbara. (and just my nitpicking - she seemed to be acting really out of character - unless she's not Batgirl here?)

I love the way you have characters interact here. Especially Helena and Dick - cute! Although, I'm beginning to think I'll need to make a diagram to keep all the names straight.

It was interesting how you changed tenses from past to present towards the end here. I think it drew the action out longer and made it a lot more intense - not that it wasn't already wicked intense to begin with!


later,

[The_NewCatwoman]

Yes, it's an elseworlds, as I always felt the animated series was deeply rooted, although not completely attached, in reality. This story doesn't have regular people flying around, and playing catch with the planets. Although that last one does sound like a good concept...

Anyway, Barbara in this story is simply the comissioner's daughter, she never was, and hopefully never will be Batgirl. I was considering placing Cassandra in her place as Batgirl because she's such a great character. But unfortunately, I don't have much real background on her behaviors. This story doesn't focus so much on action as it does emotion and psyche, so behavior plays a big factor. And if I don't know anything about you, I can't write about you. Unless of course you don't have an established history in the comics or show, then I can play around with you all I want. (i.e. Selina's parents, Bruce's parents to some extent, and Ted Grant's teenage self.)

[Kali]

I've been enjoying discovering this message board's fanfiction. It's like looking through a treasure trove. :)

As a Bat/Cat shipper, this story immediately caught my interest. Bruce cheating on Selina, with Helena! Helena cheating on Dick! An intriguing dark tale. Definitely, a page turner. :)