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Hunter's Mark	By : Rothrashaan Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > Batman (All Movies) > Batman (All Movies) Views: 1633 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Any names and affiliations with the Batman universe are obviously not mine. The others? Yeah, those are. I make no profit or any sort of monetary gain from this piece of writing, nor does any other person or party have that right or my permiss

Chapter List
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A/N: 50's Grill is an actual restaurant in Minnesota.

“Give her another unit.”

Silence. Uncertain murmurs. Rustling papers. Concern.

“Sir? She has already been given a full unit! This is far more than what our numbers indicate to be necessary.”

More silence. The stench of rage. Bitter, stale. Heavens, it reeked!

“I do not care about your damn numbers! Give her another unit, or I shall make sure you are the one who will be tending her when she wakes! If you don't recall what happened last time, they are still trying to locate the missing body parts from the previous orderly. For God's sake, they are still peeling off strips of flesh that are embedded in the walls!”

Panic, quickening pulse. Fear. Yes... oh yes, she remembered that afternoon very well. There were times when she could still taste the poor woman between her jaws. She hadn't meant to... not really. She just didn't want them to touch her. Poke her. Cut her.

But, she was gaining control. It shouldn't be much longer.

She moved her finger, just slightly.

A gasp. Shuffling feet.

“Need I say it again? Give her another unit!”

No. Not much longer at all...

…. Garbled noises circled her like a swarm of bees. Her head ached terribly, and the smells were making her nauseous. The pungent stench of too clean medical supplies always did...

Her eyes flew open as realization dawned upon her, thrashing about as she stumbled from the gurney and ripped the IV from the back of her hand. In her panicked state the pain never registered, the desire to flee hit her with such urgency she nearly dove atop the pavement.

She could feel them staring at her, some backing away while others crept forward. Were they trying to surround her? Her feet stumbled behind her, drawing her away from curious eyes while her vision started to clear. She could almost make out the uniformed men and women that crowded the street and wandered about the sidewalk. There were other figures there as well, figures that some of the uniforms appeared to be talking to.

And then she remembered. The art gallery. The painted man. The noise, the mess. The bodies strewn about. Then that noise! Did she pass out? ... Fuck, how long has it been? It couldn't have been too long!

“Miss Hastings?” A warm, steady voice broke through her thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

Rae closed her eyes and rubbed her palm across each closed lid. “Yeah. Just a little... “ she inhaled deeply and let out a short, shaky sigh. “Doctors and medical personnel tend to give me panic attacks. We... we don't usually mix very well.”

She dragged her palm across her eyes one last time before opening them once again, letting them adjust to the mid-day sun and the numerous sets of flashing lights that circled atop squad cars and various emergency response vehicles.

“Is there anything I can get you? A place to sit?” his voice, which was actually quite soothing, carried a tone of genuine concern that touched Rae. She nodded and tried not to dodge the hand that closed about her elbow, gently steering towards an open squad car until she could sit on the passengers seat, one foot propped upon the lip of the door frame while her other leg dangled over the asphalt.

“Thank you, Mr....” she did a quick search of his jacket, but noticed no obvious form of identification. The man smiled and offered his hand. “Gordon.”

Rae shook it and returned his smile. “Mr. Gordon. Thank you.” Now that she could focus on the world around her, Rae finally took notice of Mr. Gordon. He was an older gentleman, perhaps mid to late forties, lean and well kept. His hair was just beginning to gray at the temples, which matched the thick mustache that adorned his face. A pair of glasses rested atop the bridge of his nose and completed his profile. He was certainly a man to be respected.

“Miss Hastings, would you mind if I asked you a few question?” There was no urgency in his voice, but Rae could tell that there was something that troubled the man.

Of course there was something that troubled Rae too, mainly the fact that she was starting to feel very ill. She had gone far too long without eating, and didn't doubt that the wine had worked its way out of her system by now. She needed real food. Fast.

She sighed, trying to find the right words. “That isn't a problem at all... but.. I really need to get something in my system. I have hyperthyroidism and the whole, killer-clown-and-passing-out business really did a number on me.” True, true, false, and true. Three out of four isn't horrible, right?

Gordon smiled again. “I think we can do something about that.”

He backed away and waited until she adjusted her position before closing the door. She watched him wave down another officer and have a brief exchange before returning to the squad car, keys in hand. She quickly strapped herself in as Gordon settled into the drivers seat, turned the ignition, and pulled away from the scene.

With little traffic to compete against, the ride was blissfully short. Gordon eased the car to a crawl as he pulled into one of the few remaining parking spots that ran alongside a rather derelict looking curb. Rae unfastened her seatbelt and took a quick peek out of her window, glancing over the diner that lay nestled at the end of the block.

50's Grill was lit up in bright neon lights, enticing those who craved an authentic 50's meal experience, or who wanted to sample a little slice of americana.

Either way it looked promising.

Rae popped her door and eyed the crumbling curb with only the slightest bit of concern. It wasn't as if the condition of the curb was really that bad, she just didn't want to have to do any more maneuvering than what was absolutely necessary. The less energy she expended, the less she would need to eat. Especially when her hunger was still growing.

The more she stared at the curb, the more it dawned on her that the whole situation was silly. It was a curb, not a field of landmines!

It's going to be one of those days again. Given the previous turn of events, she only hoped it wouldn't get much worse.

They walked in silence as they made their way towards the diners entrance, feet slapping against standing water that would soon become puddles if the days forecast turned out to be accurate.

Gordon held the door as Rae scuttled into the lobby, greeting the hostess before going through the ritual of 'how many is in their party', and 'would they would like to be seated at a table or a booth'. After settling on a booth for two, the hostess grabbed their menus and lead them towards the back of the dining area, weaving them through a maze of other booths before they were seated in one of the far corners, away from the other patrons.

The hostess placed their menus on the table and aimed a friendly smile at Gordon. “A cup of coffee and some water, Commissioner?”

“Yes, thank you Lisa.”

“No problem. Terri will be with ya in a sec.”

Rae watched the girl skip back towards the lobby and wondered if she was normally that cheerful or if she was just 'in character'. Maybe the Poodle skirt gave her superpowers, or she was completely buzzed from consuming a few energy drinks. Whatever the reason, she envied her.

She made peace with such knowledge by picking up a menu and scouring the Beverages section. Between the menu and placemat it was a rather impressive section, ranging from obscure malts, to phosphates. Even with all the variety, she knew exactly what she wanted. It was almost a no-brainer. A relief, as her stomach was beginning to voice its disapproval about the lack of food it has received. Especially now that it was so near.

Unfortunately, she was so hungry that any type of craving had abandoned her senses some time ago. To top it off there were many items that sounded absolutely delicious, she was certain she could eat them all. Perhaps if she were alone, but with the Commissioner...

…. The Commissioner? Well, this will certainly make things more interesting.

“Here ya go. Sorry about the wait,” A basket of bread was placed between them, followed by a piping hot cup of coffee. “Can I get you something to drink?” Terri whipped out a pen and book of order slips as she glanced over at Rae, waiting for a response.

“Could I get a Butter Brickle and Hot Fudge Malt?”

“Nice choice, that's one of my favorites! Are you ready to order too or do you need a couple of minutes?”

“That's good question.” Rae looked towards Gordon with a slight shrug.

“Nothing for me. Miss Hastings?”

“I'd like the Hamburger Steak Supreme, please.” Rae closed her menu and handed it to Terri.

“Sure thing. Would you like soup, salad, or mashed potatoes?”

“Mashed potatoes sound good. Could I get gravy with those as well?” Not exactly a healthy addition, but she needed the calories. Besides, they really did sound good!

“Not a problem. What kind of vegetable would you like? ”

“Um... corn would be nice, if you have it.”

Terri nodded as she finished jotting down the order. “We sure do. I'll be right back with your malt.” She flashed a quick smile as Rae thanked her, then turned and departed for the kitchen to fill the order.

“You're going to make me feel like a pig.” Rae crossed her arms and rested them atop the table, staring into the dark pool of liquid that passed for 'coffee'. She could already tell it was bitter. For whatever reason people seemed to skimp out on the coffee grounds, missing out on what a good cup of coffee could really offer.

Such a shame, and a complete waste.

“So... what kind of questions do you have for me?” She tried to hide her growing unease, crossing and uncrossing her feet at the ankles, while a slew of possible questions ran through her mind. To which she tried to think of some sane answers.

Gordon sipped his coffee as he mulled over the question. Whether he had many of them or was trying to be tactful, she couldn't tell one way or the other.

“You haven't been in Gotham for very long, is that correct?”

Rae nodded, “Pretty much. Moved here about... four or five weeks ago, I think.” She reached over to the bread basket and tor off a hunk of bread, tearing it into smaller pieces before she popped each individual piece into her mouth. Better to start off slow so she wouldn't make herself sick.

“I don't suppose you have been following the news since then?”

“The most I usually indulge in is a headline or two on one of the web browsers. Nothing local.” She leaned back into the booths cushions. “Most of the time the news is just too depressing, or such stereotypical media drivel that I'm not sure if my IQ came away from the article unscathed.”

They were interrupted by their waitress, Terri, who presented Rae with her malt and the necessary accessories for enjoying the tasty treat. Rae reached for her malt once she popped the last piece of bread into her mouth, positioning the straw so she could take a long pull from the glass. The malt was sweet, creamy, and comforting, full of flavor but not so overpowering that it needed to be sipped slowly. She felt some of the tension drain from her mind and body as the thick shake filled her stomach, while simultaneous giving her a respectable brain freeze.

“Then I guess if I mentioned the name Joker, it wouldn't mean anything to you.”

She finished another long sip and shook her head. “Not a thing.”

He had grown sullen at her confession, and she knew there was some bad news to be laid upon the table.

Rae began to stir the malt with her straw. “Let me guess... the painted guy has something to do with it.” Wonderful. What the hell kind of city did she move to?

“We had an few incidents with this man about eight months ago. Mob related at first, but eventually he struck out on his own. Even the mob became terrified of the monster they had unleashed,” he diverted his gaze “The city lost some good people to that monster.”

“One of them was a District Attorney... she had also confronted the Joker.” His gaze settled on her and said all that she needed to know.

Rae sucked on the straw as she went over her available options. There weren't that many of them, even fewer that wouldn't end up putting someone else in danger. “Do you really think he would go that far?” Gordon knew more than she did, hopefully there was something he could tell her that would narrow down her choices.

Gordon just sighed and shook his head “I don't know. There were extenuating circumstances surrounding the previous incident, but so far he has targeted anyone who stood in his way. Neither severity or intent seem to matter.” He sipped his coffee again, distracted by his thoughts, “I suspect this time will be no different.”

She continued to work on her malt, whose flavor had turned bitter with the conversation. The idea that someone probably wanted to kill her wasn't what bothered her, it was the fact that she couldn't avoid it without making people suspicious.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't... and damn that phone!

She almost knocked over her malt while she fumbled for blasted device.

“Is something the matter, Miss Hastings?”

Rae flipped through the menu and looked at the list of missed calls, feeling her stomach clench as she stared at the name that belonged the most recent number. “You... you could say that,” She turned the screen towards Gordon “Not so sure I'll be going to work for the next few days.”

She had never bothered changing the entry of “Wayne Enterprise” to “Work”. Being held hostage and threatened by a demented clown that would somehow end up answering her phone, wasn't something she ever put much thought into. “Think he'll make the connection?”

“It would be best to assume that he already has.”
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Hunter's Mark