Angel and Batman, sittin' in a tree...chibi_squirtMarch 19 2007, 16:21:05 UTC
Oh, that I can *totally* do! Maybe. If I can stop laughing.
*snickers some more*
Okay, I'm ready. *deep breath*
---
"Gosh, Batman, that's horrible!"
"Too right! Millions of people every year donate their blood to these institutions so that lives can be saved, Robin. They do it out of generosity of spirit, and should be honored for it, not defiled by vandals and thieves."
"I hope we get this guy tonight! Ripping off a blood bank, that's just low!"
---
*pauses to snicker madly*
*can't seem to stop*
Okay, we're back:
---
The blood bank is silent as Robin walks on top of the shelves. His green boots are perfect for this sort of thing; their soles are extra quiet, even moreso than Batman's special boots. He keeps his eyes glued to both of the ground entrances; they've been patrolling this bank for almost a week now, and Robin just knows it's going to get hit again tonight. The thefts have been too frequent to just stop.
Right door, left door, right door, left door, turn around and go the other way: left door, right door, left door, right door...
Sometimes being a good guy is really boring, he thinks, and then he hears a squeak in the shadows. Probably nothing, probably the building settling--working at night, you have to learn to separate the useful sounds from the just plain old noises. Robin's been keeping watch on the door, so he knows nothing's gotten in there; it has to be the building.
He keeps an extra ear out, just in case, as he finishes pacing towards the end of the shelf.
Left door, right door, left door, right...
---
Batman is just noticing the bent lock on one of the storage containers when he hears Robin's shout. It takes him less than three seconds to be on top of ones of the shelves where a tall man in drab clothing with a wild eye has Robin in a hold which...
Batman quickly decides the man must be a metahuman. No human could hold Robin like that and retain possession.
"Let him go."
---
"Not going to happen," the stranger says in Robin's ear, and Robin knows instinctively that this wasn't some random vandalism. Something is very wrong.
He shivers. "Batman..."
"Let him go."
"I don't need your kind of trouble," the stranger says. "I can get out of your town, but I'll need a couple days to do it safely. Until then, what would you have me do? I can't take a life--" Batman may be too far away to hear the little choking sound the stranger makes, but Robin can guess by Batman's posture that the guy's face isn't much better.
"Let. Him. Go."
"I must feed!" The stranger's grip tightens on Robin's arm, and even though it didn't even do any good before, he can't stop himself from struggling. His pulse is suddenly really loud, like everying in the whole building can hear it--which, since that's just him, the stranger, and Batman, they probably can. He tries really hard to breath in one of those patterns Bruce taught him, but somehow his lungs just keep going faster--
Batman is absolutely still. "Put the boy down," he says grimly. "Whatever you need, I can feed you."
It's the grim, ordering voice, but it's also the voice Batman uses to make promises. Robin thinks the stranger must have known that, 'cause all of a sudden he's on the ground and the stranger is collapsed at Batman's feet.
---
I believe it is significant that I must abandon this post to do *psychopathology* homework.
*snickers some more*
Okay, I'm ready. *deep breath*
---
"Gosh, Batman, that's horrible!"
"Too right! Millions of people every year donate their blood to these institutions so that lives can be saved, Robin. They do it out of generosity of spirit, and should be honored for it, not defiled by vandals and thieves."
"I hope we get this guy tonight! Ripping off a blood bank, that's just low!"
---
*pauses to snicker madly*
*can't seem to stop*
Okay, we're back:
---
The blood bank is silent as Robin walks on top of the shelves. His green boots are perfect for this sort of thing; their soles are extra quiet, even moreso than Batman's special boots. He keeps his eyes glued to both of the ground entrances; they've been patrolling this bank for almost a week now, and Robin just knows it's going to get hit again tonight. The thefts have been too frequent to just stop.
Right door, left door, right door, left door, turn around and go the other way: left door, right door, left door, right door...
Sometimes being a good guy is really boring, he thinks, and then he hears a squeak in the shadows. Probably nothing, probably the building settling--working at night, you have to learn to separate the useful sounds from the just plain old noises. Robin's been keeping watch on the door, so he knows nothing's gotten in there; it has to be the building.
He keeps an extra ear out, just in case, as he finishes pacing towards the end of the shelf.
Left door, right door, left door, right...
---
Batman is just noticing the bent lock on one of the storage containers when he hears Robin's shout. It takes him less than three seconds to be on top of ones of the shelves where a tall man in drab clothing with a wild eye has Robin in a hold which...
Batman quickly decides the man must be a metahuman. No human could hold Robin like that and retain possession.
"Let him go."
---
"Not going to happen," the stranger says in Robin's ear, and Robin knows instinctively that this wasn't some random vandalism. Something is very wrong.
He shivers. "Batman..."
"Let him go."
"I don't need your kind of trouble," the stranger says. "I can get out of your town, but I'll need a couple days to do it safely. Until then, what would you have me do? I can't take a life--" Batman may be too far away to hear the little choking sound the stranger makes, but Robin can guess by Batman's posture that the guy's face isn't much better.
"Let. Him. Go."
"I must feed!" The stranger's grip tightens on Robin's arm, and even though it didn't even do any good before, he can't stop himself from struggling. His pulse is suddenly really loud, like everying in the whole building can hear it--which, since that's just him, the stranger, and Batman, they probably can. He tries really hard to breath in one of those patterns Bruce taught him, but somehow his lungs just keep going faster--
Batman is absolutely still. "Put the boy down," he says grimly. "Whatever you need, I can feed you."
It's the grim, ordering voice, but it's also the voice Batman uses to make promises. Robin thinks the stranger must have known that, 'cause all of a sudden he's on the ground and the stranger is collapsed at Batman's feet.
---
I believe it is significant that I must abandon this post to do *psychopathology* homework.
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