Bruce Wayne/Batman (caped_crusader) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-06-13 23:06:00 |
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Entry tags: | bruce wayne/batman, terry mcginnis/nightwing |
Who: AU!Batman and Nightwing
What: Fighting over the same criminal and then a bitchfest of doom.
Where: Downtown somewhere.
When: Later night
Rating: TBA, but probably high.
It didn’t matter that he was out of his element, or that there was some kid claiming to his son while a dog followed him around like he was the emperor of all dogs, his best friend or something else that he wasn’t and didn’t want to be. The animal wasn’t much of a problem. He stayed away when he told him to, sat when he ordered him to sit, laid quietly beside his chair when he was in the cave. Ace didn’t growl at him at first, but there was a look in his eyes, confusion, a realization that he didn’t and couldn’t act on.
At the cave’s exit, suited up, the cowl already pulled down to conceal his face, Ace vigilantly lifted his head from his paws to look at him. As Batman turned around to face him, the dog reacted with raised hackles and exposed teeth. He never showed hostility toward the master who belonged, but suddenly, he voiced his discomfort for this one with a series of barks and a shaking growl. It took a glare to get him to back down and retreat to the other end of the cave, where he sat down in a corner, side pressed up against the wall.
The Batpod bellowed and bolted from its parking space, wheels turning against the ground, engine roaring. It made a sharp turn and was on the road in seconds, creeping dangerously close to a red convertible and then passing it with a revving of the engine. The rider already knew where he was going and the path he took was veiled in shadow. The bike tore through alleys and across sidewalks, racing passed civilians who saw it coming and jumped out of the way just in time. He didn’t have the patience to stop for them and he didn’t. He kept going.
The criminal he was perusing always drove away from the same building at exactly eleven thirty two every single night, no matter what else was going on around him. He watched the Porsche pull out and stop. The driver leaned back to pull something out of the backseat and Batman took his chance. His bike was driven up to the man’s closed door and hearing it, he looked through the window, dropped what was in his hand and swore to himself, fumbled for the keys.
Unrelenting and not willing to give him a chance, Batman yanked open the door and none too gently, he pulled the man out by his arm. Hoisting him up close to his face, he bit back his snarl and went for words instead. “Human trafficking is illegal. I know it’s a hard one to remember,” he said, bashing his head into the man’s skull, “but it is.”