The Universe's Mixer

Zoe found herself setting the table. Since Michonne joined her in the night, Zoe had a little more time. Tonight was something of a test in a way.

"You made sure she was--"

"Yes, madame." Zoe was distracted, so she didn't make the usual correction. It was almost a dance the two played. "Her gear is up-to-date. We've made all adjustments, and her desired mode of transportation has been tuned and gassed."

"Thank you, Alfred."

Zoe wasn't excited. She was nervous. She was aggitated, and she didn't know why she was bothering with this particular conversation. There had been a time she'd wanted to bring a little person into the world; she'd hoped that somehow some part of Wash was with her in the form of a child. There were times she wondered what a wee Cowboy Godling would be like, running around and causing chaos much like his...or better yet, her father. They'd never had the talk; they were ones to think too far into the future. Yet...he needed to know.

Didn't he?

Perhaps Jesse did have some say in the future once he knew. Anything was possible through him, wasn't it?

"Keep an eye on her tonight. If she heads into something ridiculously stupid, lemme know." There was a small part of her that hoped Michonne found something ridiculously stupid to get into. Not knowing how the night would go with Jesse was a toe or two on the scary side.

The plan was progressing slowly, but progressing. Bane and Brandt had come up with what they wanted to do, and determined that destroying a building was not going to do it here in this place. Not with the way that the buildings just fixed themselves pretty much immediately.

They were going to have to kill a lot of people.

Tunnels were being dug below the City streets, recruiting was easy. It had always been easy for Bane. He was a natural leader, the urge to follow him was deeply rooted in the bones of many. HH Holmes had killed the architects and builders of his murderous home, Bane killed only those who proved themselves too weak to continue under his employ. But it was no matter. The City seemed to be filled with a never ending supply.

He was upside for the first time in a while. Brandt handled everything that needed to be done up here most of the time. He was far less conspicuous. One might easily remember a very large man wearing a very strange mask. Bane was one of the League of Shadows, skilled in hiding in plain sight, but even that could not hide him when there needed to be a face to face interaction with somebody.

The night air was nice on his skin, not too cold, but he wore his heavy jacket anyway, to cover the vest under. Bullet proof kevlar, an accessory he refused to go anywhere without.

His task was to scout out the building that they were digging the tunnel to, though it was strange that things up here were not the same as those below. The tunnel was straight, despite how long it took him to find the shifting structure once he climbed out of the sewer entry. Bane walked by City PD, sizing it up as he moved, but did not linger. He made his way to a more innocuous business to spend some time before he walked past his target again to try to collect whatever data he might have missed on the first trip.

Bane stopped before reaching his destination to look to the skies. He'd heard rumors of who might be here and who might not.

The text she'd gotten had been very straightforward. It had come out of nowhere from a number that had not - she knew for a fact - been in the stupid phone before the text had come. Having the little device made her a bit angry. She had nobody to call. Nobody to communicate with. Her days were filled with herself and her routine.

Michonne didn't know if she felt happy that the thing was getting use, or annoyed for being interrupted.

Ms. Michonne. You are expected at the Wayne Enterprises building at 4:00pm on August 18th. If you cannot make the appointment, please call 555-25535 to reschedule.

You are to meet Zoe Washburne, Security, to discuss a possible position within Wayne Enterprises.


Who the fuck was this Zoe Washburne? Why the hell would Michonne want to meet her? Unfortunately, curiosity and boredom worked together to persuade the former lawyer to go. She readied herself as she'd done every day, and headed out. It didn't take her long to find the place, as the City seemed to make her way for her. She discovered quickly that it hadn't been a misplaced text or some kind of joke, because the front desk handed her a visitor's badge and sent her right up.

Michonne's eyes wandered the walls and structure and offices as she walked, wondering why somebody who worked in a building like this would want her to work for them. She sought out the office she'd been directed to, and stood in front of the door a moment. Was she really going to do this? She was. Michonne knocked.

Dinosaurs weren't a big deal.

Well, okay. They were. They were a huge deal. They were a monstrous, several story tall, crushing-everything-in-their-way deal. And they were a deal that seemed to be roaming through the City currently, doing whatever they pleased.

Michonne had watched a brontosaurus munching on the top of a City tree near the park, and had gone the other direction, wanting nothing to do with it at all. That had gotten her smack dab in the middle of what seemed to be a fight between a raptor thing that was bigger than her and a pack of smaller raptor looking things that were just a hair smaller than her. She'd tried to sneak her way out of it, but they'd seen her.

The dinosaurs simultaneously fought one another while trying to chase her down, and they still outran her fairly easily. She had to fight or die, she knew. Her sword came out from over her shoulder, and she set her feet, ready to go down swinging.

The pack was between her and the bigger raptor, who was taking them out one by one on the other side. They lunged at her and she swung, hitting one right in the neck. The sword didn't go through the leathery flesh like it did the rotting stuff from the walkers, but it cut deep enough to sever the main artery and put the creature down. She couldn't tell if this enraged the others, who continued their attack with little sign that they even noticed their fallen comrade.

Michonne knew that if she killed too many too fast there would come a point when she and the bigger raptor met face to face, and she did not have faith in her skills to that measure. It was too big, too fast, and a fucking dinosaur. She thought she'd rather face a horde of zombies alone. Or a bear. She'd happily stare down a bear. But if she didn't kill them, they were going to eat her. Literally eat her. While this was not a new threat in her life, Michonne didn't want to be eaten by dinosaurs anymore than she'd ever wanted to be eaten by a walker.

Her sword slashed, biting at flesh and destroying the life of another of the pack.

Lost S.O.s Support Group

The warrior woman stood before the sign, looking very confused. Confused and a little resigned.

----

"Madam."

"Alfred," Zoe's voice held a warning tone. She would break him of calling her that one day. Or perhaps never. She believed that the butler still called Bruce 'Master Bruce.' Master was a name for a young one, not for a grown man, and Bruce was certainly a grown man.

"Ms. Zoe."

"Better."

"You are troubled; you don't seem to be your normally aggressive and warrior like self."

"Alfred, you are dangerously close to things you do not know."

"Ms. Zoe, I have always been dangerously close to many things, but I will always support the one who wears the Bat mantle."

"Fine." She turned to look at the butler who had been assisting her in a new fitting. She had found that there were a few pieces that needed replacement or retooling. "What way are you thinking of supporting me now?"

"It is not I who will support you, miss. There is a group who may understand what you have experienced in your years here; perhaps it is time you receive their support and they yours. We have newcomers who may benefit from your understanding of the loss and this place." Alfred began helping her out of the suit.

"This shouldn't be a two person getup. Think we can work in some of tech we had before? Just..different?" She didn't answer or address the issue Alfred had put to her. The suit was more important, not that she felt like saving the City as much as she used to. Her purpose was muddled and mury somehow.

"Miss--"

"I don't wanna go share my feelings with some strangers. I got you and Jesse and..."

"Yes, and?"

"I don't need anyone else, Alfred. I'm just fine."

"As you say, Ms. Zoe." Alfred continued to assist her out of the suit, before leaving her to look after those within the Manor. He took a moment to leave the address where the group met.

---

"Gorram meddler. Can't even tell what kind of support group to send me to. How the hell does anyone lose an s.o.s.? Shoddy work, and not much use if you ask me." While she might not like being one of those sharing types, giving her emotions free rein for any and all present, she did feel like she wasn't herself lately. She didn't think this group would help, yet Alfred had been there during many a troubled time since she'd started wearing the cowl. The least she could do was give this thing a try.

She walked into the room to be confronted by a few women and men who all looked as if they were ready for a good weep fest. There was the smell of burnt coffee and stale sweets. She sent a blessing and a curse to haunt the butler for even thinking something like this would benefit her, and seeing as she'd been spotted, even she knew she couldn't simply leave. Instead, she walked to one of the chairs, sat down, and started counting minutes until she would be free.

The weather in the City was pretty much always perfect. There were days with rain, but they were still mostly warm. But there were still seasons. In fall the leaves fell (the trees were never bare, though), in winter there might be some snowflakes (never anything like the one great storm where the City had gotten carried away), and summers were warm and sunny and nobody had school.

Still, this year, the City felt like celebrating spring. Not any particular holiday. Just spring in general. There were new people around, there were couples in love, and it wanted to have a great big party for everyone.

Overnight, it set up the great festival. Streets all around the park were closed off so that people could walk around without issue. The park itself was expanded to over twice the normal size. A great clearing was made in the center, stretching from one side to the other. There needed to be lots of room.

Through this clearing the City placed tents, stands, and tables. These were filled with food and wares of all types. There were representatives for all the popular shops, as well as some that nobody had ever seen there before. There were stands for balloons for the kids, too, free of charge. And flowers absolutely everywhere. Woven into the stands themselves, laying on tables, set up in vases, growing in every patch that the City was sure nobody would accidentally step on them. Colorful ribbons, some as large as crepe streamers, also decorated everything. The City wanted as much color as it could possibly get.

At one end of the clearing the City placed a small carnival. Rides, games, everything it could think of. Even a petting zoo, though some of the animals within weren't typical farm animals that usually went in petting zoos. At the other it placed a few stages for performances. Concerts, plays, musicians. The stages were all contained within their own invisible sound barriers, as to not disturb one another, but the noise from all could be heard on the main promenade.

It put signs up all over, put notices in mailboxes, ads on the radio, commercials on television, and even made Candy and Frank talk about it on the morning news.

The celebration would go from sunrise to midnight. At sunset, the City would have a bonfire, complete with a pig roast and s'mores. At that time, it would move the park closer to the water, creating a beach between for the bonfire to settle on.

When he opened his eyes, Jesse realized that something was off. No. A lot of things were off. Despite the fact that he was in his own bed, in his own place, there were things within the room that even his blurry sleep-addled vision picked out immediately. Items that looked like they belonged in Zoe's apartment, not his. There was his John Wayne figure, but Zoe's style and grace were everywhere else. He realized then that despite the fact that it was his bed, these were Zoe's sheets.

"Darlin?" He called out, his mouth filled with cotton. "I think the City's fuckin with us. Seems it saw fit to squish our places together."

He rolled over, looking for an alarm clock to check the time with.

"Zoe? Where you at, sugar?"

Jesse really didn't want to get out of bed. His head felt muddled. Like he'd been drinking too much for months on end, which was something he hadn't done in a while. The alcohol was still his friend, but they didn't get black out drunk together anymore. Just warmly tipsy, and occasionally stumbling. He hadn't had a real reason to drink himself into a stupor in a long, long time. Yet that's how he felt. As if he'd been on a week long bender after several weeks of heavy consumption. It was miserable.

"Zoe? Baby? Could ya bring me some coffee? And my cigarettes? Why ain't they on the nightstand?"

Gathering the fabric of her long, dark skirt, Mag swept into the comfort of the night. This city was a new one, better than both of the ones from before. The first city was her home, a place she loathed with every fiber of her being and was fortunate enough to escape. The second had been the broken city in which she had ended up after some how leaving her own. This place, this City, had much more potential than both and Mag was grateful for the fortunate of being able to start new. Her life, up to this point, had been interesting. It was a breath of fresh air to be some place that wasn't her home from before the broken world, and she considered herself lucky to have survived such an ordeal as the second. Strange creatures lurked about in that town and time she had previously left behind. Some how the land here seemed a little safer. She wasn't naive to believe that it was without its share of dangers, every place was full of its darkness. Every world had its dark corners, it's back alleys, and it's obsessions.

Her eyes scanned the street as she moved down the sidewalk, the sound of her heels clicking against the pavement being the only true noise that greeted her. The people out and about seemed normal, natural. What Mag considered normal, anyway. Those of her city were obsessed with vanity, and these people weren't like that. It was refreshing. There were no 'chop shops' lining the streets, no tents full of people waiting to change their faces or getting back-alley surgeries. No Zydrate.

She took a breath and her feet carried her from 'Agreeable Apartments' on toward the park where she had been before finding the key in her pocket that worked in a door there. Apartment number one, actually, which was a bit haunting. She had been the number one soprano in the world, and now her assigned quarters had her stationed in the fitting apartment number. The real shock, though, was beyond the closed door. She opened it not knowing what to expect, and then there was her own flat looking back at her. Everything was there, all of her furniture, clothes, accessories....it was the strangest thing. But she wasn't complaining. Having clothes that she knew fit her, her favorite cosmetics and scents to wear, and even a warm bath in her tub...it was a blessing.

The soprano approached the park eagerly. A soft, playful breeze ruffled the fabric of her gown, and a few loose strands of her dark hair that she had pulled into an up-do, though the length of it cascaded down her back and shoulders.

It was time to seize the night, to explore and to see what this city held for her to discover. And she would start in the park, and work her way around accordingly.

Wash was sweaty. It wasn't because there was a heatwave or anything but because he'd been working solo on the shuttle. It really was a lost cause. Oswin and he were replacing more parts than were putting parts back together. The percentage of the original shuttle being there when they finished would be pretty low. Still, it was something he could do even with the braces on his arm and leg.

They weren't bulbous braces anymore, at that. They were sleek, black, breathable splints that simply kept the limbs from any unforeseen bumps during the end of their recovery. Still, as he walked free of crutches back toward Jo's house he did still feel sort of an invalid with the boot and wrist brace.

He wore his flight suit tied down around his waist with an A-line undershirt moist with what he liked to call manly sweat but the smell of his manliness did tend to offend Maxine who much preferred his less manly pajama-ed self.

NotWash had been mysteriously quiet recently, as if planning. Or perhaps Wash was just paranoid. Still, he should keep an eye on him.

He thought about all of this as his toolbox swung in one hand bumping lightly against his knee as he strode the distance to Jo's house which realistically could be very short or ridiculously far away. It was really up to The City's mood. He found he didn't care too much. His mood, he also noticed, was not too muddled. Knowing what to expect had become a welcomed forbidden fruit.

As much as he still missed Serenity it was nice not to be shot at or do illegal things or run into people you'd rather not seen because you may have not been on very good terms with them last time and they might shoot you...

Jo stood outside the building where Zoe apparently worked. Wayne Enterprises. She didn't know what to think about that one, but there it was. In a City that housed Marvel and DC characters-not characters, people indiscriminately. And Zoe worked for one. In fact, she worked for arguably the most well-known comic book character ever.

That, however, was beside the point. She hadn't called ahead to make an appointment, so she just hoped that there was time in the schedule of this woman whose job she knew next to nothing about. This woman whom she'd heard bits and pieces about. She didn't really know what she would have said if she'd called. That she was the person who was living and raising a child with the woman's ex-husband, only it was in a completely platonic way? And that she had news about said ex-husband? Not exactly the way to get her foot in the door. Granted, she didn't really know what she was going to say when she got there either. That was a big part of the reason that she'd put this off for as long as she did. But she'd put it off long enough.

She didn't know how Zoe was going to react to this visit and from the way Wash talked up his ex-wife's toughness, she was fully expecting to get decked. Yet, she thought that the woman should know that her ex had crashed his spaceship in an attempt to end his life. She wasn't sure what she expected Zoe to do with that information, but if Jo had been in her shoes, she would have wanted to know.

Which was why she checked in at reception and gave her name and tried to impress upon the (less than impressed) receptionist that she had important news for the apparent head of security.

The pawnshops had been hit for a few nights now, even prior to that one particular announcement, but the oddity of the robberies didn't require attention until after the announcement. The Bat needed to act; there'd been too much silence, and the woman who wore the cowl, what it was, needed to hurt something, to right some wrong.

The pawnshops in each case were more or less intact after the robberies, and they didn't lose much in the way of money. No, what they lost were odd little things. The thieves knew what they were looking for and got just what they wanted. They didn't bother with more. A watch here, a cufflink there, a trombone with a broken slide. It made no sense, but the latest one had left a young woman hurt.

Janet had had her eye on the charm bracelet for some time, and she'd had every intention of buying it that day when the shop was attacked. She tried it on, and then one of the thieves asked her for it. Janet had been ready to pay for it, and now some masked stranger was demanding it from her. She didn't want to give up the bracelet, but the robber wasn't taking no, not even a let me think about it. The robber knocked Janet out and took the bracelet.

The Bat got the report and decided to stake out pawnshops. This particular night two happened to be in spying distance from a rooftop corner. The Bat perched and watched. Maybe tonight there would be some justice and pain. Something would be done.

The Bat was back out on the streets. There had been reports of kidnappings and murders. Zoe had stayed away too long, ignoring those things she simply didn't want to and wallowing in her own misery. These were not things the Bat did; there was a city to protect. People needed saving. More people than her own small circle.

So, the Bat was flying again. The Batmule moved easily enough; she had plans to show her husband this particular vehicle, knowing he'd appreciate it. It hadn't been taken from Serenity, as it was fitted for the Bat and what the Bat did. The Mule itself had probably never moved unless Wash decided to move it - Wash or any of his visitors. His new circle of friends and family.

The Batmule flew over the City, and the Bat looked for anyone who needed help. The traffic was a little different this time of night, so those traveling alone on the somewhat empty streets were easier to see. The infrared scanner built into the Batmule was sometimes very helpful - who was carrying those things that could be very dangerous.

Zoe hadn't hidden her conversation with Wash from Jesse, but she hadn't come out with it. She'd let it be. There was something perverse in her for wanting to keep it quiet, and she knew this. She needed to keep this to herself for now. Then again, that particular day had been awful all round, and she hadn't know if she wanted to share it then, or now.

There was a darkness about her had not lifted as of late. She couldn't explain why she felt so very angry other than emotions weren't always easy for her, not like these. Not lately. She'd carried that same darkness with her recently into a required physical.

The warrior woman had passed all the tests; she'd done so very well. There was the usual recommendation to watch her diet and her stress and her health in general. There had been a few more tests that she wasn't expecting, but it was all in the name of science. They'd get back to her later on the findings.

Life was back to normal, even if it wasn't an overly happy one. She went home and began dinner. Perhaps tonight Zoe would talk to Jesse about Wash. About a sense of unrest inside her. Perhaps she'd simply have dinner and give into a much needed bit of carnal knowledge.

The warrior woman woke with a start then groaned, resting back in her bed. She rolled to her side to look at the spot that was more times than not filled with a Cowboy God. It wasn't that she begrudged him his time, but the fright, whatever it was that she'd woken from, had made her wish for someone there beside her. Him. She didn't call for him. Instead, Zoe stretched, shoved that desire down, and got out of bed. Jesse was there for her as much he could be; he also had other responsibilities after all.

The Amazon prepared for the day, as she usually did. Or had planned on doing so, only to find that she was out of milk. She had other food stuffs that would make a fine breakfast, but she had developed a desire to have a small bowl of cereal. She nudged that silly frustration away and went on with her day.

Zoe got to work, dealt with the usual day including a strange outburst in a copy room that involved toner, anatomy, and a coworker's plan to "knock a moron's fool head off for being so wasteful." When it came time for lunch, she headed down to the cafeteria in the building only to find that the one menu item she'd wanted was no longer available - even if she though she'd gotten down just the start of lunch. After lunch, she worked in the Batflat, grappling with a grappling hook that refused to shoot as she wanted. She wasn't a sure shot like Jayne, but she wasn't bad. No matter how much she did to the equipment, it simply would not hit target. Sometimes it wouldn't even deploy.

With the work day done, with what little bit of work she actually felt she accomplished, she headed to her favorite place for a snack or a meal. Favorite in that she visited it almost daily. It seemed to always been right across the way from the Tower, and it served just the right thing, a comfort food. When she got there, something was certainly not as it should be.

"What do you mean they lost their license?" The tall woman glared at the poor policeman who was unlucky enough to get caught up in the small altercation over the last bao the stand would sale. "It's the gorram City. They don't care about licensees here."

The policeman stared. He was only trying to do his job...honest.

"If you so much as move closer to that bun, I will end you." They were ridiculous words, Zoe knew that, but the day had been full of frustrations and that strange nagging of small denials. On different days, they could and would be inconsequential, but a day full of them? Even the strongest and sturdiest Browncoat found herself wanting to shoot some little old lady for a bit of steamed bread.

Wash had not been bothered by the constant night. In fact, for the past week he'd gotten the best sleep he'd ever remembered getting in his life. Being on a ship in the black for such a long time he was used to keeping time but the sky not changing from stars.

So having woken up early, 0800, he whistled as he went to a diner to pick up hot tea and eggs. He whistled as he pulled out his notepad and wrote more ideas for florid metaphorical poetry to win Zoe back. He hummed as he stopped by the park to admire the ducks and geese in the pond as they swam a bit blindly in the water. He could have sworn they looked the least bit befuddled and confused. He tossed them some crackers from the diner and walked on.

He had no idea how he was going to find Zoe. After that blow up of emotion at his apartment they hadn't exactly exchanged addresses and numbers. But there was a skip in his step after he had finally decided that he was miserable enough without her to tumble, headfirst, into trying to re-charm her back into his arms, current boyfriend aside.

In such a refreshed mood was he that he gave no thought to going down a dark and creepy alley-way.

"My beautiful, voluptuous Zoe," he said, reciting a possible verse, "You make the stars in my sky so glowy/ There's no way you can truly knowy/ That without you my world would explody..."

He considered the words as he jotted them down then marked them out.

"Too rhymey," he decided. "More free verse, I think. Ooh, that autumn flower thing. I liked that--AH!"

Because suddenly there was a dark shadow in front of him. And he looked up and noticed that this alley way didn't have an exit.

The thug, because though Wash didn't like to generalize he thought the label was sufficient for now, demanded money.

"Oh, ya know. I left my money back at my apart--" was what he managed to get out until he was shoved against the wall under the one light in the alleyway that provided illumination enough to see to walk. The large man's arm shoved against his trachea while cold metal was pressed against the sensitive flesh of Wash's throat.

"When you put it like that..." Wash wheezed fishing the two dollars and thirty seven cents out of his pants pockets and throwing them on the ground. "That's it!"

The man in front of him paused.

I don't like you, the man said with a smirk. He'd lightened up on Wash's throat a little with his arm which was very good for the breathing thing Wash needed to keep doing.

"Oh. Uh, once you get to know me, I'm not that bad. Some even say I'm charming so--" he was cut off again by a hard punch to the cheek bone which sent him reeling as the back of his head collided with the stone wall behind him.

The thug explained that Wash needed a little color in his cheeks. Apparently this guy was aching for a little beating up time and didn't much care who it was.

Wash managed to shakily block the next punch from making contact and kneed the other in the groin. The knife was jolted out of position on Wash's throat and made a shallow cut to his collar bone.

For a moment the former pilot thought he might have had the upper hand but the other guy quickly regained steam and though a defensive punch from Wash landed hard the larger man pulled Wash's legs out from under him and sent him tumbling face first into the asphalt. Wash felt the thug's thick fingers grabbing his hair and pulling his head back with the knife pressing once again into Wash's throat.

"Hey," Wash said nervously. "Can't we...just talk this out or--oof!" he was interrupted by the pressure of a knee to his back. "Or, get some tea and...maybe we'd discover that we have a lot in common. We both share an affinity for dark alleyways and...y'know...that's a fine start to a friendship, I think!"

Somehow Wash didn't think talking his way out of this would work. He closed his eyes tightly waiting for round two of the whole dying experience.

Christine was glad to have the opportunity to leave the manor alone now. As much as she enjoyed spending her time with Erik she couldn't rely on his busy schedule so she could leave. He had informed her of the two men he had hired to follow her. To keep her safe from whatever it is that makes him worry about her. She had no idea just what he worried about so much but there seemed to be no point in asking. Even now she knew it would never, ever happen.

Unless she happened to be very lucky.

She arranged to leave the manor, not entirely sure where she wanted to go yet. A simple walk perhaps. After leaving the town car she told the driver she would be in touch when she wished to return and then turned her back to face the street. Perhaps she could look into some flowers for the garden. Or some other trinkets to make it beautiful. Anything really. Anything to make the day go faster.

Christine walked alone with the two bodyguards near by but not so much that she felt overwhelmed by them. She at least knew they were there if anything happened. As she walked the pavement, she kept her eyes out for somewhere to potentially eat first. When she came across somewhere she had a glance and was intrigued. Perhaps she would try there if she did not find anything else. As she turned to walk further down the street she quickly collided with someone.

"Forgive me!" she said quickly. She had been so focused on the restaurant that she had not looked around before walking.

Alfred made it clear that the Batman's responsibilities had been assumed by a remarkable woman - a veteran of a war far in the future. She was, from all accounts, a capable warrior and a fine strategist. Bruce's own research into the woman's history and background revealed few details. She was, apparently, a woman who valued her privacy. Bruce could understand that -- and even approve.

The white walls and polished steel of his office building winked at him as he passed under the stairwell door frame and onto the floor to which Alfred directed him. It was very quiet. Naturally, it was.

Resisting the urge to explore what this woman had done with an entire floor of the Wayne Enterprises building, Bruce crossed his arms and waited in front of the stairwell. Night was only 30 minutes away. Did she wear a utility suit similar to his own? Did she wear the hood and cowl? Had she made professional connections with the police force here, and was she aware of the Scarecrow and Riddler and Enigma inside these City walls?

The questions piled like bodies at a crime scene in front of him, slowly oozing importance into sticky puddles around his feet. Patience was a virtue hard won in him. He drew on it slowly, as a schoolboy would take his medicine. And he waited.

The Amazon wasn't firing on all cylinders, and she wasn't sure she had that saying right. Thrusters made more since as cylinders had gone out with combustion engines long ago. There were better ways to power vehicles, and thankfully her preferred vehicle was one such examples. Sure, it was known to smoke on occasion, but that was usually after getting shot. She tried to keep Batmule shootings to a minimum.

She reached for a tea cup high on a shelf, and soon found herself cursing in a way she hadn't in a long time. She'd gotten used to more anglicized expletives, but the Chinese seemed more appropriate as it was her past and its very mishmash of languages that had come back to haunt her. Or spook the every loving goshe out of her. Something like that anyway.

Zoe reached for the tea cup, and doing something she rarely did, especially these days with her more extensive and continued training, she slipped. It happened to everyone, but what didn't happen to most was that the tea cup came down, falling through her fingers to crash on the floor. The pattern wasn't one she'd noticed, but the cup had become a favorite. It wasn't until the cup was in many pieces that she realized why it had become so important and comforting: the pattern on the china matched the common room on Serenity.

She didn't feel like the warrior woman, the Amazon, the Bat as she stared down at the broken pieces. She felt like a very lost and tired woman who needed a hug and to be told everything would be okay. Question was, who did she want that from? Actually it wasn't much of a question; perhaps the answer hit her just as hard as that broken cup.

No, the better question was, why wasn't the damn man here?

While she wasn't at one hundred percent, the Amazon was doing pretty good. She had finally gotten out of her apartment, with a promise to Jesse that she wouldn't patrol a few more nights. Of course, Zoe wanted to do just that - get back out and patrol. She felt as if she was letting the people of the City down. The City had lasted a while without an active Bat, yet she felt she was needed. Alfred had seemed okay with the idea of her staying home, and they weren't overly upset at work. Then again, things were a little odd when it came to timetables and the City.

So, as a reward for being such a good nurse, even if he could have fixed her right up and sent her on her way, Zoe was cooking dinner for the Cowboy God. She was even going so far as to buy a few fruits that she'd never tried and was rather certain Jesse hadn't; they would do a little experimentation. He was making her more adventurous. Or more relaxed. It wasn't that she'd never had someone like that around, but she'd pulled herself in not long before coming to the City. She'd become very reserved; she was beginning to loosen up.

Zoe nudged the strange pink and green fruit around, listening to the older woman gab on about the things one could do with a dragonfruit. The warrior woman was considering a few things to do, but she was being polite. There were other fruits, and the older woman had been rather helpful on those; Zoe felt she owed the seemingly lonely woman an ear. She even nodded now and then when it seemed right.

The smile on her lips was slight, but it wasn't condescending or nudging toward a smirk. She hadn't seen the red haired giant in a while, so she wasn't afraid of getting attacked by kissing freaks. She hadn't even seen signs of the Joker in grocers', so she was feeling relaxed. What could possibly go wrong in the produce department of the local supermarket?

She regretted that thought as soon as it had been made.

Amazons did not stay in bed or on the couch all day and stare at an idiot box. Batmen did not let a few sniffles and sneezes keep them in. Big Damn Heroes did not keep out of the fight because they had an ouchie. This was what went through Zoe's head; she was having a very hard time allowing herself to rest. Sure, she'd done it in the past, for a very short time, but that was being shot and stabbed - this was just a bug in her head. Actually a real bug in her head would have been more pleasant, possibly. It could be removed.

With the thoughts of how very far she was falling down on the job, she pulled herself up and got dressed. Of course, she had to wait until the Cowboy God went off to find the planet called NyQuil; she wasn't sure he'd succeed, seeing as the City didn't let anyone leave...within reason. Dressed, she was out the door and into a cab; she'd accepted that the walk was probably a waste of the energy she'd need later. She left a hefty tip to make sure the driver forgot her.

She made it to the Batflat, and once she sat down for just a small rest, she soon realized just how nice the padded benches were.

A short time later Alfred had called the apartment to check on his current charge, and at first wasn't too surprised when no one picked up. He knew she wasn't feeling well, having talked to the woman about her current state of healthy earlier. He thought he'd check in with his charge's significant other. Alfred didn't seem to mind that the preacher was once more in the Batfamily; then again, had the preacher ever really left?

Imagine the good butler's surprise when he received an almost frantic and definitely angered greeting from the preacher. Zoe wasn't where Jesse had left her, and he had no idea where she was. Alfred managed to reprimand the "young" man while calming him enough to remind the preacher that he was a God. He could find the lost warrior woman with just a thought.

Remembering was just as good as action. Soon, the preacher was in the Batflat, but he didn't get a chance to marvel at it. No, he gathered up his wayward woman and took her right home, using his special talents rather than taking the more human route. He woke her long enough to give her a stern look and a heaping helping of NyQuil. Zoe wasn't sure how she was going to take a planet, but perhaps it was a liquor, a hideous liqour, they made there. It was almost as bad as Mudders' Milk.

Dosed up and still drowsy, not bothering to feel embarrassed or properly chided for her little attempt at adventure, Zoe curled back up on the couch to sleep. Unfortunately, it didn't remain peaceful and restive for long; she began to fight, and with a yell more than a scream, she sat up right, eyes wide, sweat beading on her forehead and neck.

"NO!"