The Universe's Mixer

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!"

Zoe had been hurt before. She'd been a gorram zombie and dead! But, nothing, nothing prepared her for this. This plague. She didn't care what the receptionist said, or the men in security, or even the doctor. This was the plague. She didn't wine, yet she knew something wasn't right.

The Amazon had left work earlier than normal and stocked up on things that everyone seemed to think was good. Sure, people got sick in her time, but it wasn't the same. She could easily fix things back home; they had a quick fix for so many things. And, she'd dealt with so much worse; she'd been in a war after all.

She'd tried to get into the Batsuit, but one sneeze in the damn helmet had her thinking otherwise about going out on patrol. So, she'd gone home. She'd let the steam gather in the shower. She'd used a small vaporizer. She'd started the tea, and the broth.

As if it might make her feel better, she pulled the scarf from the package it'd shown up in and wrapped it around her neck. She poured the tea and broth in small cups, and had every intention of drinking them. It didn't happen. As soon as she curled up on the couch, she drifted off to a rest; the scarf wrapped bout her, her robe tight about her too.

Dinah had a lot of questions rattling around in her brain these days. She needed to talk to the Batman but he was even less accessible then he'd been back home. In fact, some of her questions had to do with Batman and just who was under the mask. She was starting to think that it wasn't Bruce. At first she had chalked the differences up to possibly alternate universes or just changes over his time in the City. But now... well, she hadn't seen Bruce outside of the costume at all. So either he had completely retreated into the mantle of the Bat (which was highly likely) or... well, she wasn't sure who else might have taken over or why. But if Alfred was still around, then she could only guess that whoever it might be had gotten Bruce's blessing. Or had Alfred's blessing, which was good enough for her.

Dinah also had questions about Zoe. She suspected that there was more to the woman than met the eye, but that was another mystery that she'd had yet to unravel. She did suspect that Zoe might know what had become of Bruce. She was very clearly in a position of trust when it came to Wayne Enterprises, which meant that she had to have gained Bruce's trust to some extent. And Alfred thought highly of her as well.

She chose to seek out Zoe first. Since the Joker seemed to have gone underground, she hoped that she could at least chip away at the mystery surrounding Batman and where Bruce might be now. She was stopped by the doorman on her way into the building and left her name so he could call up to the woman to see if she would take a visitor. Dinah just hoped that she would.

Oliver saw to it that anyone who had worked with the Justice League had been invited. He wasn't sure how many of them would actually show up, but he'd made sure to contact them all, one way or another. At the rate things had fallen apart, he was beginning to feel less averse to the idea of Dean coming along with Dinah. But that remained to be seen.

He'd set the meeting for a Monday, mid-morning, to allow everyone time to make it, or at least to check in, if there was something going on out in the real world to prevent attendance--and hopefully to start the week out right. The younger of the Winchester brothers was already present, working on some IT stuff at Oliver's behest. Now all they had to do was hurry up and wait.

Hannibal had done his best to find the ones that he knew were missing. Eric, Pam, Baba, Henry and others. But of course, they were nowhere to be found. Not even a trace of what had happened, not a hint that they would be back. While the City lost people and gained them all the time, in his years spent here, he'd never seen a thing such as this. It was new, and it was worrying. Were these people gone forever? Would they return? Did the City even realize that they were gone?

At first, he'd managed to keep himself busy. Though Baba was not there to help or enjoy the work that he did, Hannibal continued on their quest to punish the last of the Arkham employees. Finding himself first a nurse and then an orderly. They were both undone in spectacular fashion, and he thought that his companion in death would find them enjoyable. He would willingly describe his deeds to her if he ever saw her again.

But it was not the same, ultimately. He wanted her to be there to revel in the end of lives, not just hear about it after the fact. She was as angry as he was at what had been done to them, she wanted the revenge as clearly as he. Dispatching two without her felt more wrong than satisfying.

So other than his job at the hospital and practices at the Opera House - another who had gone missing was Erik, and Hannibal was unsure if things would continue without him, but he refused to give up his time at the piano just in case. When Erik returned - if he returned - he would be undoubtedly ashamed of any musician or dancer who had failed to continue their work. Hannibal would not be one of those.

He left the Opera House an hour and fifteen minutes after he'd arrived. Practice over. Nothing to do for the rest of the evening.

The hammering of his blood inside his veins woke him. With one hand, he shielded his eyes from the streaming light on his face; with the other, he reached for the bottle that was always present at his side. After a few painshot moments of aimlessly floundering for said bottle, he cracked an eye open.

Then he dropped his hand.

The next move was a mistake, though; standing up so quickly with a raging hangover he'd been building for months meant that he immediately sat back down again. Where was he? Too much absinthe? But he'd never actually hallucinated on the stuff before...

It was morning. He was in a city. But it wasn't Montmartre, and it wasn't even Paris. The buildings were wrong -- the streets were wrong. He sat up straighter on what appeared to be a bench plastered with advertisements that didn't need glue....

Back in 1894, there had been a race with the newest, most modern invention; the streetcar. He'd even seen one before. But the streetcars here were wrong. Christian, bleary-eyed and suffering, straightened his rumpled suit jacket and ran a shaking hand through unkempt hair. How long had it been since he'd shaved? He stood - far more carefully now - and tried to decide what to do.

Jesse had taken the advice given to him by the witch... or whatever she really was... to heart. He'd decided he'd had enough with the being tired, and figured that Zoe was also pretty through with it, and so he wasn't going to be tired anymore, unless it was at a time and place where it was okay to be. Falling asleep in the arms of his girl was okay, but falling asleep at her dinner table was not.

It still felt a bit wrong, to let go of that much more of his human origins, but in the end, it seemed that he either do it this way, or stop helping people. Since he didn't think he was ready to stop the latter, there wasn't really any argument left. He finally convinced himself that it didn't make him any less him, it made him a better him. A him that could do all the things that he wanted to do and not be troubled by it. Not have the bad side effects that were causing problems in his personal life.

He was wide awake and waiting for her. He'd cooked a meal in preparation, and this time didn't eat it before she'd shown up. He wasn't dosing on the couch, or gazing glassy eyed at the television. He was in the kitchen, fixing dinner when he heard her key in the door.

Jesse had been very busy, still, and Zoe was doing her best. She'd never had a man who was a god type too, even if some thought otherwise. In order to keep from losing complete contact with the man, or kicking him out the next time he fell asleep during dinner, Zoe thought they could try something a little different - lunch in public. Jesse didn't care if he fell asleep in public exactly, but it might keep him awake enough to eat. She really wasn't sure, but she was trying.

In one of her more tailored suits, including the heels that made her legs even longer, she stood waiting near her favorite Chinese bun stand. She didn't pace. She just waited. Her hands at her side as she stared out into the street, her lips turning slowly from a line to a frown. She was going to have to eat, but she hadn't thought he'd get caught up in something.

She never considered herself one of those silly women who determined their worth by how much attention their men showed them, but she was certainly starting to feel...odd. She didn't like being mad at him because he was helping people; he was a big damn hero, possibly one of the biggest. But. There was always that gorram but.

Jesse did the inviting. He was the only one - that Dinah and Dean knew of - who knew everyone who was to be involved in this. The invite also only really went out to Dinah directly. It felt awkward trying to contact Dean to ask him to come along. But he suggested to Dinah that she might want to bring him, since he was right there anyway.

Not knowing, of course, what had happened with the apartment.

He had not gone out to do any do-gooding, and made sure to be rested. Mostly because he didn't want to disappoint Zoe again, and partly because he really did believe that the three of them would draw on him if he fell asleep at the table. He didn't think that Dean would be nice about it, either. There would be no mostaches and goatees from Dean. It would be dicks pointed at his mouth and bad words scrawled across his forehead, and he wasn't sure that Zoe wouldn't be unamused enough to stop it.

They had cooked together, him and Zoe, for the dinner, and it was so easy with the give and take between them that everything was ready in no time. Like clockwork.

Now, all they had to do was wait.

Zoe didn't say anything after she left the conference room; she hadn't even stayed to see if there was indeed an answer. She simply walked out. Perhaps she should have run, but she thought she'd give Jesse a little room to calm down. Just a little.

She caught up quickly though, for all the room she gave him. She didn't touch him until she was at his side, making sure he could see her. The Amazon took his hand, not slowing him down, not stopping him. She walked with him wherever he had thought to go; walking without stopping didn't exactly mean she wouldn't say anything.

"You asked more than one question." It was a small joke, and she was risking making him even angrier. "Don't think you're going to get your answer out here."

The City Hall was chosen because it held a room within it that was big enough to accommodate the droves of people that were sure to come. Plus, being inside space, there were no worries over weather that couldn't be controlled. The people could sit and listen and not have to try to hear past traffic or wind.

Even with the late notice, everything was done well before the scheduled start time, which Thomas was proud of. He was glad that the ones who were born here weren't entirely useless without him around. They were keeping their heads together, doing what needed to be done. Of course, it also could have been the fact that they believed Thomas was who he claimed to be, and with his presence there with them, they felt better about the situation they were currently in.

Thomas looked at the stage. That's where he would be standing, talking to the people he had brought here. He had no doubts that they would be the ones with the questions, the ones who demanded answers. He was ready. He could do this.

He sat in a seat hidden by a curtain, where he could still see the stage and the rows of chairs beyond, and waited.

When she'd moved back to her townhouse, Alfred had sent her home with tupperware containers filled with meals to last about a week. Dinah had finally managed to wash all of those and put them in bags to return to him. She appreciated the butler making sure she was well fed, especially because she'd barely had the energy to order takeout lately.

She'd left a message to let him know she was coming to return the tupperware, but it might not have been received. Whatever the case, Dinah had been expecting to find Bruce, perhaps, at home or to find just Alfred. She certainly hadn't been expecting to find anyone else at the Manor.

She parked her car on the driveway looping in front of the sprawling house and walked up to the door to ring the doorbell. She was planning just a quick visit, though she wouldn't be surprised if Alfred took one look at her and lamented how thin she was as per usual lately.

Rufio crouched on a fire escape over looking one of the busier streets of the City. He'd found it a bit disconcerting when the buildings stopped moving and everybody started setting up routine methods of travel, but everybody else seemed pleased by the change. Still, it felt far too permanent the way it was now. Rufio didn't like it.

The growing boy dangled his legs over the side of the fire escape, leaning through the bars and watching the dull crowds at the end of the work day. Sunset would come very soon, and then he may be more inclined to get up and find something to do, but for now he was content eating a bag of potatoe chips and ocassionally dropping a water balloon on a passerby from the small box sitting next to him. That was always good for a laugh.

It had been a while since Joker revealed himself - Zoe hated thinking about it in that way, but it was apt. Zoe had added wherever Dinah was living with Jake to the patrol route. When the man who was a less connected and possibly just as odd Mr. Universe sent out the memo about Jake's disappearance, Zoe continued to check on Dinah; grief made people do crazy things.

Thankfully Dinah moved to the Wayne Manor which made checking on her much easier. Zoe didn't feel that she always had to see the woman for herself, just trust Alfred when he reported. Plus, it was easier to explain why the Bat could be seen skulking, not that Zoe would ever say she was skulking, about the Manor.

( On one of the nights the Bat was definitely not skulking... )