Another entry from Who's Who, a very generous double spread devoted to Vigilante that I'm sure Tumblr will unfortunately scale down badly. This comes from issue 25 of the original series of which Vigilante was actually the main featured character on the cover. Written and researched by Robert Greenberger, Peter Sanderson, Len Wein and Marv Wolfman with art provided by Tod Smith (the artist responsible for pencilling a lot of the Vigilante ongoing series).
Today in JSA History: First Appearance of Lian Harper, Cheshire Cat
Lian Harper, also known as the Cheshire Cat and formerly âShoesââfirst appeared in The New Titans #21, published on June 4, 1986. She was created by Marv Wolfman and Eduardo Barreto. Lian is the daughter of Roy Harper (the original Speedy, later Arsenal and Red Arrow) and the villain Jade Nguyen, aka Cheshire.
Roy Harper made his debut in More Fun Comics #73 as Speedy. While he was initially erased from Golden Age continuity during Crisis on Infinite Earths, but recently Stargirl: The Lost Children has restored his place in that era. In that series, a time-traveling Green Arrow and Speedy journey to the past, joining both the Seven Soldiers of Victory and the All-Star Squadron.
Back in the present, as Roy matured, he began working for the government and was assigned to apprehend Cheshire. However, during the mission, the two fell in love, and Roy couldnât bring himself to turn her in. A year later, he discovered he had a daughter. He enlisted Nightwing to help find her. Roy raised Lian as a single superhero dad.
Tragically, Lian was killed during an attack on Star City by Prometheus (or so it seemed). Following major continuity shifts (Flashpoint, Convergence, Doomsday Clock, Dark Crisis, etc.), her story changed. She was now said to have been killed at the age of five by the Electrocutioner. However, it was later revealed that her death had been faked by Amanda Waller, who had her taken to a secret lab. Lian then spent years randomly teleporting across time and space before being rescued by her mother. Jade left her on the steps of a church in Gotham City.
Growing up as a street kid named "Shoes," Lian eventually became Catwomanâs sidekick and adopted the name Cheshire Cat. She was later reunited with her father and Team Arrow during their search for a time-lost Oliver Queen. Since then, she has continued her journey as the vigilante Cheshire Cat.
Lianâs family tree is just as wild as her timeline. Beyond her parents, sheâs connected to a large web of heroes and villains:
Green Arrow and Black Canary are effectively her adoptive grandparents.
Connor Hawke and Sin could be seen as her uncle and aunt.
Red Arrow (Emiko Queen) could be seen as her great aunt.
She has a half-brother, Thomas Blake Jr., the son of Cheshire and Catman.
The Guardian (Jim Harper) is her great-great-uncle. His adopted daughters, Famous Bobby and Gwen Harper, are her second cousins once removedâthough it gets complicated:
Gwen, as a clone of Jim, is technically Lianâs great-great-aunt.
Famous Bobby, being Jimâs grandniece, is Lianâs first cousin twice removed.
Vandal Savage, is Lianâs direct ancestor. That means his childrenâScandal Savage, Kassidy Savage, and Angle Manâare her living ancestors as well. And if the Black Label series, Resurrection Man: Quantum Karma is in continuity Mitch Shelley is Savage's brother which also makes him an ancestor of Lian's.
Given her rich legacy, deep ties to Golden Age characters, and her resilience through the DC Universeâs wildest continuity shifts, Lian Harper is a perfect candidate for Stargirlâs Young Justice Society. Her past is chaotic, but her future is full of potential.
The above image is by Romulo Fajardo, Jr. and Sean Izaakse for the cover of Green Arrow Annual #1.
Summary: Nightwing is ambushed by a gang of supervillains, and now must use all of his skills to defeat them.
First of the late entries, but I intend to make sure that all eight go up.
Also donât worry, this is D/B. Weâre just taking the scenic route. In the same way my Day 2 story was D/B, this one is mostly D. Figured Iâd balance it out, and also that since Iâve written a number of pretty light and fluffy stories I ought to put out one with some punch (literally).
Set just after Batman: Cataclysm and just before the prologue to Birds of Prey #8. Gotham hasnât yet shut down for NML.
To See Her Again
He landed, slick with sweat, firmly on the back foot. Her kick connected with his ribs, and he felt a snap. He heard knives cut through frigid December air as they slashed across his arm. He felt the same air come alive with currents of electricity, and the ground shake with great, ominous footsteps.
It was at that moment that Nightwing began to consider that he may die here.
It had been a rough few weeks.
After their city was hit with a 7.6 magnitude earthquake, hundreds of thousands of Gothamites fled to neighboring BlĂŒdhaven, and found it waiting for them with open jaws. In a town as corrupt as the âHaven, this many desperate new arrivals made it an early Christmas for the criminal element.
For Dick Grayson, it had been an unending hell.
Nightwing had spent nearly every nightâno, nearly every waking momentâeither helping Batman and Robin or saving refugees to the âHaven. In this last hour alone, he helped rescue folks from a burning slum, beat a couple of way-out-of-towners trying to knock over a liquor store, and just now had to rush an old wino to a clinic after some maniac cut him up. One after another, in a row along the Redline.
Another day in paradise.
He checked his watch, 3:47 A.M., and decided that was about all he could handle for one evening. He started the journey back to his apartment, cutting down tenth and along the Market Strip. He paused for a beat atop the combination Mardiad Grille / Humbyâs, just to survey his fellow âHavenoids. They werenât all grifting the surviving Gothamites. He saw water stations and makeshift soup kitchens littered across the square, as well as signs to ask for leftovers after closing.
Say what you will, but the people of this city know what itâs like to be left behind, and what it means to have neighbors ready to help.
Dick spotted a young couple handing out bottles of water and fresh socks. They were smiling to each other, and even from here he could tell they were in love.
I know those looks anywhere, since Iâve been seeing them more often.
He thought about calling Barbara, but decided not to. He had to see her again, not just call her. A call would never do after the night they had on Saturday. It was the only night either of them spent away from Gotham or BlĂŒdhaven since the cataclysm, and Dick made sure it was an extra special evening.
He took her âflyingâ at Halyâs Circus. Even had her execute a flying transfer, which she nailed.
Never lost her touch.
They had a moment, but neither acted on it.
Even still, they had so much fun together.
Frankly, I donât know if I could come up with something worthy to follow that up.
A ring? She might think thatâs a bit forward.
He did want to hear her voice though. Hear her laugh again. Seeing her so happy was addictive. He wanted that for her every single day. He wanted her to be happy with him, if sheâd allow it.
He wasnât comfortable with her staying in Gotham, but he understood why she was staying. He wouldnât try to argue with her about it, at least not again. Still, maybe he could see her one more time.
Seeing her, that was a different story, even beyond the Gotham/BlĂŒdhaven divide. When they parted, Babs made it very clear that she did not want this to be a date, nor a set-up for future dates. Dick respected her wishes, even if he really did want it to be a date and saw a future for them.
That said, upon reflection he wasnât sure if he was ready for something that serious anyway. He wanted it, and he wanted it more with every breath he took, but wanting something real bad and being ready for it are two very distinct states of being. About as related as apples and cement mixers, in fact.
Perhaps, given some time, they could give the other a chance, but not right now. Especially not with the city closing.
I should talk to her. See howâs sheâs doing. A phone call never hurt anyone anyway, and thereâs no one Iâd rather talk to.
That was that. Dick promised himself that he would call her first thing tomorrow morning, to hell with a âworthy follow-up.â They agreed it wasnât a date anyway!
He continued his way down 10th at a leisurely pace, still reliving that evening under the big top as he leapt from one line to the next. He was two blocks from the turn onto Parkthorne Avenue when he heard a shriek.
Nightwing caught himself, then looked to see where theâthere!
A woman was being pulled into the alley by this beast of a man, 6â4â and every bit of 260 pounds. Nightwing felt his blood boil, and then threw himself into the alley.
He hit the big guy with his full weight behind him, then kicked off and spun to land between him and the woman, drawing his twin escrima sticks. He wasnât in the mood for taunting; he wanted to bring this guy down hard and fast.
The big man chuckled softly, and for a moment Dick sensed something familiar about him. Before he could place the voice, he felt a blade graze his shoulder, and saw a burst of electricity briefly light up the alley.
Thatâs when he saw his opponents.
âHowdy, Nightwing,â bellowed Randy Hanrahan, better known as Stallion. Former football player, former enforcer for the Penguin, current assassin for BlĂŒdhavenâs kingpin, Blockbuster. âI wuz gettinâ ta think ya wouldnât show.â
From the restored shadows stepped forth wanted war criminal Guillermo Barrera, alias Brutaleâthe Ace of Blades, and failed vigilante electrokinetic Lester Buchinsky, the Electrocutioner.
âYou seem to be in shock!â
âLes, you been waitinâ all night for that one?â
âShut up, Randy!â
âAll of you stay back,â Nightwing roared as he took up a defensive stance. He repositioned to keep the woman at the open end of the alley and the assassins boxed in. He then said in a steady and calming tone, âMaâam, you need to leave. I have this under control, soââ
His breath was pushed out of him, and he felt a rising heat in his back, an agony.
âI assure you, young man,â a familiar voice hissed in the Kingâs English as she drove the knife deeper, âyou have absolutely no control of what is happening here.â
On instinct, Nightwing tried to leap out of the alley, but Stallion caught him mid-somersault and slammed him to the pavement, and followed that up with stomp on his back. He looked up as the damsel in distress discarded her disguise, and donned the mask of Lady Vic, the nom de guerre of Lady Elaine Marsh-Morton, Oxfordâs finest contribution to the fields of bounty hunting and assassinations.
An ambush set by Blockbusterâs assassins.
Four on one.
And they drew first blood.
He was in trouble.
He evaded the next stomp, and flipped back on his feet. He could feel pressure building in his head, and blood seeping from the wound in his back.
Itâs not too bad. Armor stopped it from cutting too deep, but it hurts like hell.
Brutale threw two more knives, but Nightwing was able to block.
Electrocutioner let off another bolt of lightning, but Nightwing narrowly avoided it.
Then he saw Stallion getting ready for charge.
Gotta get above the street, give myself room.
He threw a smoke pellet directly into Stallionâs face as he rushed him, then fired his grappling gun toward the roof. He didnât even manage to get above the street before he took another cut to the back.
Once he gained purchase atop the roof, he did a quick check of his injuriesânothing fatal yetâthen readied himself for their next attack.
Too close to the apartment to try to flee, too tired to lead them on a long chase.
How did theyâ
WaitâŠ
A fireâcould have been electrical.
The thievesâthick accents. Definitely from below the Mason-Dixon Line.
The old manâcut to ribbons, doesnât take a genius to connect that one.
And finally the woman screaming for help.
Son of aâthey were leading me here! Setting fires, sending out their goons, hurting innocents. We arenât two blocks from the clinic; they must have been watching me along the Redline. This was a gambit to sap my strength and lure me to this part of town.
And I fell for it.
The next attack came as he was thinking, Lady Vic brought down a flurry of slashes with her katana. He blocked, parried, and counter-attacked when he could, but she was fast.
One cut, two cuts.
Superficial, but a very grave sign.
He needed to get some space.
He feinted, then kicked her at center mass, sending on her back. She flipped back over and recovered, but it gave him some time to book it. He ran across a sturdy cable connecting two buildings like he was back on the high wire, and Lady Vic followed.
She was good, or at least she had talent and some decent training. She might be trouble for someone like Blue Beetle, or even himself or Roy as Robin or Speedy. However, now she had the very distinct advantage of numbers.
They made it to the next roof, but Dick found himself in an even worse position. It was a trap. The moment he set foot on the building Brutale emerged from the roof access hatch as Electrocutioner and Stallion climbed up opposite walls. Surrounded on all sides. They wanted him to come here.
Damn.
Still being lead around.
Lady Vic made a flourishing move with her blade, brought it into a guard, and then lunged at Nightwing.
They locked weapons.
Sheâs cold, arrogant.
Last time they faced each other, it was a draw. She took a little girl hostage, and Dick was unwilling to put her life in danger. Nightwing suspected that had she not, he could have beaten her pretty decisively.
Her stamina, thatâs the killer.
Parry.
By Dickâs estimation, she preferred a sprint to a marathon. She was a powerful offense-oriented duelist who fought in short bursts, tiring quickly. An explosion as opposed to an inferno.
However, the harder you push her, the more vicious she gets.
Counter.
She had a hate within her, one she seemed to be able to control under normal circumstances, but became more apparent as she fought. Her haughty superiority masked a wrath and cruelty that ran deep.
Block, counter.
Dick was ready to go on the offensive when she suddenly broke off. Before Nightwing could pursue, he was slammed by Stallion.
He was about to go for a knee kick, Hanrahanâs big vulnerability, when he saw a dozen knives flying toward him. He leapt over and dodged most of them, but at least twoâno, threeâcut him. Not deep, but they made contact.
Nightwing looked to Brutale and formulated an attack, but he was nearly caught by Electrocutionerâs storm. He couldnât afford a big shock like that, even one and heâd be too weak to defend.
The situation was becoming untenable.
If he was on the ground he was vulnerable to Stallion, but if he was in the air he had to worry about Electrocutioner. When he would try to press the offensive against Vic and tire her out, Brutale would throw another torrent of blades. When he would turn to take on Brutale, Vic or Stallion would engage him in melee.
And on, and on.
Each time heâd get in a position to defeat one, another would attack him, and with each round he got a bit weaker. A bit sloppier.
Two cuts from Vic became four.
Another slam from Stallion.
A blade in his arm from Brutale.
Even Nightwing couldnât take this kind of punishment forever.
He leapt up, trying to clear Stallion and head to the next roof, but Lady Vic met him in mid-air. She unleashed a great onslaught of strikes, and drove Nightwing back down to their makeshift arena.
He landed, slick with sweat, now firmly on the back foot. She pressed her attack, forcing him further into the center of the floor, away from escape and salvation.
He tried to counter, but she kicked him and broke one of his ribs. She disengaged just as Stallion smashed into Dickâs side, followed by a punch straight to the young vigilanteâs face.
Stallion took another swing at him, but it was a trick. As he moved to block Stallion, Lady Vic kicked him again, forcing him back even further.
Nightwing fell to one knee, breathing heavily.
He felt lightheaded.
They surrounded him.
Sloppy. Theyâve played you like a harp from hell.
Years ago, not long after Barbara took the oath as Batgirl, the Riddler attempted to hold the cityâs energy grid hostage. Two full days without power; it was the worst Dick had ever seen Gothamâthough now it seemed like paradise in comparison to the cataclysm.
By that second night, not unlike current circumstances, the three of them were run ragged across the city. Completely exhausted. It didnât help that he and Batman were starting to have more and more arguments. Dick wanted real independence, but Bruce insisted he wasnât ready.
Frustrated, both with the situation and with his mentor, Robin ignored Batmanâs order to stand down when he saw a young man being chased by a mob. He knew it was a bad idea, but Robin doesnât let anyone get hurt on his watchâever.
Dick jumped in, but he was far more fatigued than he first realized. He took down two of them, but a third got a lucky hit in. Robin fell, and the mob descended upon him. If it wasnât for Batgirlâfor Barbaraâhe would have died. Her words to him still echoed across time.
âRobin! Get up!â
Dick watched as Lady Vic and the others circled around him, savoring their victory.
âA laudable endeavor, my friend,â she taunted, venom dripping from every word, âbut your tenure as this wretched hovelâs guardian must finally come to its natural conclusion, along with our ongoing rivalry.â She gave him a salute with her blade.
âRobin! Get up!â
He thought about her.
BarbaraâŠ
He thought about flying.
She was so happy. Happiest heâd ever seen her.
Stallion cracked his knuckles.
He remembered holding her so tenderly after they finished swinging under the main tent of Halyâs Circus. One of the best moments of his life.
Electrocutioner jeered something Dick didnât quite catch, probably something stupid.
She was so beautiful. She always had been. So perfect. He pressed his forehead against hers, but he couldnât kiss her. He couldnât. He wasnât ready, and she wasnât either.
Stupid. Damn stupid. If I see herâŠ
Brutale pulled another knife.
IfâŠ
Images flashed through his mind.
Lady Vic bringing down her sword.
A wake at Hoganâs Alley.
A portrait taken off the wall at Titans Tower.
A new costume memorial in the cave.
Barbara sitting alone, with no one to hold her.
No.
I wonât have it.
I wonât let them down, any of them.
Not Batman.
Not the Titans.
Not my neighbors.
Not this city.
And not her. Not ever.
Not if, when.
I will see her, and when I do I will hold her close again, and this time I am going to tell her what she means to me.
That I love her.
Besides, if these clowns kill me, Robin will never let me live it down.
Nightwing stood, bruised and exhausted and bleeding, and fell into a ready stance.
âSoooooo-ey!â Stallion whistled, tipped his hat, and boomed, âSumbitch still got some gas in his tank!â
Lady Vicâs mouth twisted into a devilish grin, but remained silent as she launched a probing offensive. Nightwing repelled her after a short engagement. They started to circle again.
Stopâignore them.
Theyâve dictated the fight all night. Take control.
Focus, analyze, strategize.
He took stock of his opponents. They were in much worse shape than he realized. The assassins hadnât planned on him lasting this long, and they were tired too.
Stallion was heavily favoring his good leg.
Brutale had thrown two thirds of his blades.
Electrocutionerâs lights were dimmer, and heâd been firing off fewer bolts. His suit needed charged.
Lady Vic seemed like she was in the best shape, but he noticed sweat dripping from her face and hair, and squelching from her leather pants. She was breathing much harder, and he could tell she was getting more frustrated and angry by the second. That anger could be his ticket to seeing Barbara again.
What else?
They took turns, rather than attacking him all at once. They werenât a team; they were fighting as individuals.
I can use that. Divide and conquer.
He lunged forward, bouncing between each assassin, not allowing any of them a moment to catch their breath or to help their compatriots. It was unsustainable for more than a couple of seconds, but thatâs all he needed for now. He just had to find a weak link.
Stallion was just smart enough to know heâs dumb. Smart enough to tune out anything Dick would bait him with.
Brutale was remarkably unflappable, didnât care about anything other than money. Couldnât be goaded, and hadnât even uttered a word this whole fight anyway.
Vic was clearly the brains of the operation, but her pride, fury, and lack of endurance could no doubt be used against her. The problem: Dick wasnât convinced he would survive one of her rage-fueled assaults, especially not with the others still standing.
Finally, there was Electrocutioner. Dumb. An ego the size of Alaska, but fragile as an eggshell.
He will do just fine.
As Nightwing was about to engage Stallion, he juked and drove hard into Lady Vic. Poured it on as heavy as he could, as savage as possible. He kneed her in the groin, punched her in the mouth, and then spat in her eye for good measure.
I need her pissed.
It worked, her cocky smirk became a hateful grimace, and she snarled, âYou lowbred pig, how dare youââ
He didnât let up, hitting her more and more. Then he swept her legs, and Vic fell flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her. Dick didnât have time to finish her; he needed to engage Electrocutioner. He flipped back and over toward his quarry.
âSo tell me, Les,â Dick said with mock familiarity, âGotham too tough for you?â Nightwing smacked him with an escrima stick.
It took the Electrocutioner off-guard, âWhat?â
âOh, you know what they say. âCanât hack it in Gotham City, try BlĂŒdhaven.â Itâs like real crime, but with the training wheels on. Easy mode.â
âShut up, you littleââ
Nightwing flipped over and around Lester.
This had to work. He was getting very, very tired.
âYou have everything you need here, hell, the police work for you. Itâs a nice gig, yâknow, for losers.â He hit Lester again, more of a slap this time.
Electrocutioner grabbed at his temple, and sputtered out, âIâm not aââ
âYouâre a huge loser, Les! You left Gotham for the âHaven! What, do you play bowling with the bumpers too?â
Electrocutioner took a swing, missed, and Nightwing took the opportunity to position Brutale behind them. If they were working as a team, Barrera could have nailed him, but Lester started firing wildly at Nightwing, the light blinding the old war criminal.
âYou cheat at checkers?â
âShut up!â
âYou read the answers before you start your crossword puzzle?â
âIâm the Electrocutioner! The living electric chair!â
âSure, and you work for Lady Vic, another loser.â
âEnough!â Electrocutioner ran and leapt to tackle Nightwing, but the BlĂŒdhaven Brawler sidestepped at the last moment, and Lester, bristling with electricity, crashed directly into Brutale, a man covered in dozens of metal knives.
Ouch.
Nightwing stepped back from the light show, and then engaged Stallion, weaving in and out, trying to kick his knee. Randy was wise to the tactic though, and scooped up the vigilante in a grapple, screaming, âI gottem! I got the lilâbastard! Yâall get over here!â
Nightwing was struggling to break Stallionâs grip when he saw Lady Vic rise to her feet. Dick was hoping to take out the big manâs leg first, but the plan was still on track. He just needed Vic good and mad. She stumbled over and saw Electrocutioner trying to wake up Brutale.
âWhaââ
âI didnât mean to!â
âYou did this?â
âIt was an accident! I went to tackle Nightwing,â Lester said, panicking, âlâHeâs still breathing, he just, câmon wake up, Guillermo!â
Brutale just groaned.
Lady Vic kicked Electrocutioner in the face. âYou uncoordinated baboon,â she screamed at the top of her lungs, âyour incompetence and complete lack of grace put our plans in jeopardy yet again!â She turned, âI knew I should have gone with bloody Crazy Quilt.â
âUh, guys,â Stallion groaned, âHeâs kickinâ like a mare in heat, can yâall gimme a hand?â
âDonât you turn your back on me!â Electrocutioner yelled in impotent rage. âYou listen here, Princess! This whole plan has been up crick without a paddle from the start! I knew I should never listen to broads!â
âThis âbroadâ devised a course of action you could never even conceive of, let alone execute, you slobbering boar.â
Thatâs it.
âYeah, real genius. âLetâs all rush him at once.â Damn, wish I thought of that one!â
âClearly, seeing how you didnât.â
âGuys,â Stallion pleaded, âwe can hash it out later, just câmere ân help me!â Nightwing finally had an open shot at his knee, but he needed a better distraction.
Come on, you two.
âHey,â Electrocutioner said as he grabbed Lady Vic by the shoulder and got in her face. He was trying to tower over her, but they were nearly the same height, and she was far scarier. âLook at me when I am talking to you, you blow-up British bimbo.â
âYour staggering inadequacy is noted,â she replied, hate oozing from her voice again, âNow Electrocutioner, if youâll be a dear, I would suggest you step away from me.â
âOr what?â
âGet yer asses over here,â hollered Stallion, growing more desperate and exhausted by the moment. More opportunities were presenting themselves as Dick struggled to get free, but he knew if he got their attention now he was a dead man.
Come on!
âWould you like a demonstration of my abilities?â
Electrocutioner laughed in her face, then said, âWhat abilities? Nightwing was right about that: you are a loser, Elaine! You told us yourself, you need money to pay off your family debts. You blew daddyâs money on Silicon Valley and now have to pinch every penny to not lose your house.â
âYou will never speak my name aloud again.â
âThatâs what me and the boys call youââ
âLes,â Stallion cried, âIâm begginâ ya to shut the hell up.â
ââWe call you âSilicon,ââ he grasped large invisible breasts, ââValley,ââ and ran a line down the center of his chest. He pointed to her chest, âThatâs your family legacy! Big, ugly, bolted-on tââ
Lester saw her face change, realizing far too late that he probably shouldnât have said that.
Randy saw their plan, which very nearly worked, as well as their sizable cash reward go up in smoke because of Lesterâs insecurity.
Dick saw his opportunity, and put the next phase of his plan to see Barbara again into action.
Elaine just saw red.
Lady Vic was on him like a wild animalâcutting, stabbing, scratching, punching, biting, gaugingâElectrocutioner was lucky to be alive when all was said and done.
Nightwing would never know it, but this wasnât because he insulted her appearance. In fact, she didnât care about that sort of thing at all. Sheâd been educated at an all-girls academy in England, whatever insult some illiterate like Lester Buchinsky could come up with would be banal in comparison to the things those girls said to each other. It didnât matter what people thought anyway, as she had the various operations to look the part of pampered heiress âLady Marsh-Morton,â not for her own vanity.
No, the thing that Lester said that triggered her attack was the insinuation that sheâd spent her familyâs money on cosmetic surgery, or that she was the reason for their debts and humiliation.
She was the only living reason to be proud of the names of Marsh or Morton.
Everything she was and did revolved around making right what others ruined.
A thousand years of noble breeding and generational wealth, and her profligate immediate family destroyed it in under twenty.
She was the only one trying to win back the estate, and to bring honor back to the house.
She spent much of her adult life working, training, putting aside her dreams and desires to restore their legacy when it was her family members who did this.
She paid for the surgeries with the money she earned so that she could better play a role.
She wore a living disguise in a body she was no longer comfortable in so as to appear above suspicion.
A role now ruined because of the intervention of Nightwing and the Batman.
She was now trapped in a body she didnât like, doing work with people she couldnât stand, and he had the nerve to imply it was her fault.
He had to be shown the error of his thinking, and in her experience there was only truly effective method of imparting wisdom: removing two-thirds of his skin.
Hard to forget that sort of lesson.
Nightwing worked as fast as he could manage.
First, a kick to Stallionâs bad knee, dropping him.
Second, he turned and gauged his eyes as hard as he could.â
âGAAAHDAAAAAYMIT,â yowled Stallion in agony. He finally broke his hold on Nightwing, and the former Boy Wonder then rained blows down upon the already injured Texan.
Stallion fell, crashing to the ground like one of Gothamâs once innumerable skyscrapers a few weeks ago.
Simultaneously, Electrocutioner collapsed in a puddle of blood and tears and pleas of âstop hurting me.â
Nightwing locked eyes with Lady Vic as the sudden realization hit her.
She was now alone against her hated nemesis.
He, the first apprentice to the Batman, leader of the Titans, and protector of BlĂŒdhaven.
She, who might give Blue Beetle some trouble.
Maybe.
They stood for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.
If sheâs smart, sheâll pull her Webley. Better not chance it.
Nightwing gestured to her with his escrima sticks, an informal challenge to a duel.
She sighed.
He knew that she did not have any sense of honor, not really, but she thought that she did. Her pride in her familyâs name demanded she accept, and thatâs all Dick needed.
She drew twin daggers, then lunged at Nightwing.
It was already over.
Dick was drenched in sweat, barely able to stand up, stabbed, bruised, and bleeding all over.
But Elaine was exhausted.
She wasnât âtired.â She was drained almost entirely of any remaining energy, much of which she wasted beating Electrocutioner senseless.
She had two advantages to start, the other three assassins and her lack of fatigue, and both had completely evaporated now.
Now she was fighting an opponent with 50 pounds and four inches on her, with more experience and training, better endurance, and one hell of a score to settle.
To her credit, she went down swinging.
Once he took the initiative, Nightwing dissected her like a high school anatomy lesson, whittling down her defenses until she was just barely able to keep them up. When her guard started to falter, Nightwing took a page from Stallion and rushed her off the edge of the roof, landing on top the next building overâŠa 20 feet drop.
Nightwing landed on top of her, cushioning his fall and crushing her. He leapt off and to his feet, ready to continue his second wind winning streak.
She slowly picked herself off the ground, her legs visibly trembling.
No need to draw this outâ
She surprised him, running in for one final attack. He reflexively kicked her, extracting twofold revenge for the rib she cracked earlier, and slamming her against the wall of a rooftop shed.
She fell to the ground, the last of the assassins to do so.
Dick went to work immediately and tied the four of his assailants together. He left them dangling from a lamppost on Newnham Avenue, along with an anonymous tip.
No doubt Blockbuster would see to their speedy release, but it would give Nightwing a chance to breathe.
For now, at least.
He checked the time, 4:09 A.M., and marveled at how long 20 or so minutes could feel when youâre fighting four people at once. He headed back down 10th, and then over on Parkthorne.
Nightwing slipped into his apartment, out of his shirt, and onto the couch as fast as he could. He did about as much first-aid as he could stand, then passed out.
He woke up late that afternoon with a raging headache.
I need a shower and an ice pack.
And new bandages.
Maybe breakfast, too.
He took out his coffee press and a box of disgustingly sugary cereal, then looked at the photo of Babs he had on the wall.
And her.
He jumped up on the counter and picked up his phone.
First ring.
Seconâ
âHey Boy Wonder,â Barbara said in an unusually dour tone, âwhatâs up?â
âNothing, I just got up. Something wrong?â
âNo, just a mission. We kind of blew it.â
âWant to tell me about it?â
âMaybe, but to be honest I donât know how much coherency Iâll have left here soon. Iâve been up since the day before yesterday.â
âBabs!â
âIâve been busy, Dick!â
âAnd you give me grief for not taking care of myself.â
âI never said I wasnât the worldâs number one hypocrite, okay? Besides, Canary is out of the country and needs me on-call all night until she gets back.â
Sensing his opportunity, Dick casually said, âTell you what, you need sleep, I need to catch up on some reading and some cartoons, how about I come over and keep an eye on things while you get some rest?â
âI couldnât ask that of you.â
âGood thing you didnât then, since I offered.â
âYou sure?â
âBarb, after the night I just had, watching computer screens for a few hours sounds like heavenâif it means seeing you.â
âHm,â she giggled warmly, âVery smooth, inviting yourself over like that.â
âI do my best.â
âWell, if thatâs your idea of a second date, it needs some work.â
âHey, I already used my best idea. And in any case, we agreed: not a date. Just wanted to take you somewhere special.â
âIâll say,â she said, then added, very softly, âthanks again, for the not-date I mean. I had a lot of fun.â
Dickâs heart soared. âIâm glad to hear it. I had fun too, but Iâm not letting you out of this one.â
âAlright, you win. Come over, bring flowers if you want,â she let out a huge yawn, âbut I need some sleep.â
âSure thing, Iâll see you in forty-five, give or take.â
She was right, this wasnât the best date idea he could come up with, but it gave him an excuse to go see her.
And after all he went through tonight, that seemed like the only thing that would make him feel better.
That or maybe hitting those four losers a couple dozen more times.
Notes & Continuity
This is late! I am sorry! I wanted to have these written up week before last, but the D/B history interfered.
So, the prompt was Falling/Flying, of course when I think flying in connection with D/B it is automatically BOP #8 âOn Wingsâ right? Too easy, but also too good to resist. So I decided to go the obvious route, but from a different path.
Technically speaking, this takes place before and after BOP #8. Before the prologue, after the story. Basically my idea was âWhat if there was a Nightwing #24.1â (or so).
I had a sub goal of squeezing in as many Nightwing villains as I could, so this gave me a great opportunity to do so. I have a big soft spot for Nightwingâs rogues, theyâre both super 90s and very obscure. Thatâs my bread and butter. I really wanted an opportunity to show Lady Vic as a competent threat, while still allowing for Dick to beat her as efficiently as he does in the actual series.
NML is very annoying. Itâs both so good, but also causes so much havoc in the timeline that it gives me a headache. Trying to fit everything is such a hassle. I think both of my favorite holiday stories are made difficult by NML, which is a shame. That said, BOP #8 specifically mentions itâs in the rush from Road to NML, so itâs relatively easy. A nice change of pace!
This story needed a lot of tweaking, so please excuse any errors. Iâve probably gone over this a 100 times and still feel the need to rewrite sections, but I really need to move on and finish these. I hope you enjoyed what I finally settled on.
