Terra Firma

Angel

Night was falling.

I wanted to go back home.

I wanted to put Homer to bed and crawl into one myself, let Jay handle this. Jay knew more than me in this situation. Sure, I could interview and research and ponder over crazies all I wanted. But I'd never been so close to one--two. I was still shaking inside, clutching my little brother.

But outside I was like a statue.

I wanted to sleep. I was extremely tired.

But there I was, sitting in a chair in Jay's office, cradling Homer in my arms and watching the two argue over the message, which they'd scooped up and placed on his desk after Jay called Gordon and told him what happened.

Hours had passed. That dullard Joe was sent to the hospital. He was mumbling deliriously about

I can't even think that terrible word.

We'd cleaned up the mess of leaves and bullets. Jay was really good.. too good, maybe.. at keeping this quiet. Only Gordon and the few very frightened cops that were there that morning would know what really happened. Gordon was in agreement that this was too much for the media to handle.

The thing he did not agree with, however, was what Jay was saying now.

"We can get their help, I'm sure of it. All I need to do is find them. It can't be that hard. We just search every back alley, every old building we can get to... there's tons in this slum, but hey, we could do it!"

"Gambol. The mob turned to The Joker last time, and look what happened. We're lucky they didn't blow up this place again."

"We'd keep them under control..."

"There's no way we could! And do you think for one second those... two are going to come sauntering in, ready to cooperate with the people who've hunted them down and locked them in cages?"

Jay frowned.

I piped up then, "They would cooperate, if they knew what was at stake."

Jay huffed, "Yeah, okay, Angel. They totally would help out your random best friend, because you chit-chatted about the weather with them a couple of times."

"Excuse me? I'm not the one who asked them to help in the first place..."

Jay's face crumpled. I sighed.

"Sorry. Look. The point is, they'd help if they knew it was her."

Gordon ruffled his grey hair, "What do you mean? Cosette Jean is a writer, the great-neice of a rich man's butler. She's hardly of any interest to The Joker and Poison Ivy..."

"Yes she is." I stared stubbornly and he looked back at me like I was crazy.

"Gambol, I think you should let your friend get some rest..." He said this in a soft, caring way. There was no sarcasm or humor behind it. Gordon was like the stern but loving father everyone wanted but no one had.

I chuckled, "You're right. I do need rest. But once again, I'm helping instead."

That's all I was. The martyr. The innocent. The nun. The...

"Angel." Jay said softly. But I interrupted.

"No, no. I'm not going home. I've figured it out."

"What?"

"Cosette Jean. Is Jeannie Gimble."

"She's been declared dead..."

"Three years. I know. Isn't that perfect? The cops only declared her dead after they couldn't find her. They had an empty funeral casket alongside Harvey Dent's, remember...?"

I could see Gordon's face darken with worry and fear after that statement, but I paid no mind.

Jeannie Gimble was a symbol of the loss of innocence after The Joker and Poison Ivy's rage-filled night.

But she wasn't lost.

Things began to peice together. Alfred, bless his heart, probably came up with the plan and urged Bruce to take her in. Now the medication made sense. The therapy. Her poems. The tiny twitches, the fits. How she'd smile oddly whenever Jay or I asked if she could, "keep quiet" about something. Her scar. Her...

"Her laugh." Jay gasped suddenly, clutching his desk, "Her laugh. Oh my God, Angel, you're right."

"It doesn't matter," Gordon frowned, frustrated, "We can't turn to two criminals... Besides, this... this riddle was probably just luck..."

"Luck? Luck?" Jay slapped his hands to his head, mocking Gordon, who began cleaning his glasses. The lines on his face were standing out on his face in his stress. No wonder. The guy went to see his family once in a blue moon and was almost always working here, even as commissioner. He was down in the dirt and with the rookies.

Gordon stared back at the scraps of paper on Jay's desk.

"Okay. I'll admit that was... smart..." Gordon mumbled the word between a grim mouth, then began his protest again, "She severely injured two men.... He shot an officer...! I won't go through with this. It's not realistic, it's not sensible..."

Jay scowled.

"Sitting here doesn't make sense."

"What are you thinking, Jay?" Gordon frowned worriedly.

"I'm thinking... I'm out."

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm going to do this... I'm going to get down to the bottom of this... I'm not going to let my friend die."

"Jay, do you realize what this will do to your career...?"

"I don't give a shit! I have to stop this sicko!"

"But getting another sicko to help..."

"They're different kinds of sickos. With a genius better than you or I or Mr. Batman up there could understand! That's why. That's why I'm going to find them. I'm going to do something. I. Quit."

"Jay! Jay!"

Jay tugged at my arm and I quickly rose, still cradling Homer carefully and remaining that ever silent idol, that pillar, holding up the good and the right and the truth. Normal I would side with Gordon on this one and try to talk Jay out of this obnoxious mood swing.

But my friend was in trouble, so I knew I'd have to help Jay.

First though, I needed to put Homer to bed. And...

"Jay." I said quietly as he started his car.

"We need to go to Cosette's and search. If we want to find them."

"Why? All we need to do is act..."

Action Action Action. That's all Jay thought about.

(Adventures first! Explanations take a dreadful lot of time!

why am I thinking about Alice in Wonderland?)

Sometimes what you really need is explanation, then it leads you to the root of things.

"Let's split up, then." Jay insisted, turning the car to drop me off at Cosette's, "Scooby-Doo style. I'll search through the back alleys, you search through her bookshelf."

"You're the cop." I smiled.

"And you're the angel."

Cosette

I opened my eyes slowly as I unwound slowly out of sleep again, in a seemingly endless cycle, hearing them having a conversation outside of my little room. I felt ashamed and frustrated that I was so weak in this moment but I knew I shouldn't scold myself. My legs were feeling alright, at least. It was just this goddamn fever I had... it was making me delirious.

Hearing that psycho's cane rapping on the floor outside my door made me think of the nights back in the warehouse, of Happy sleeping outside of my door. And when I heard, "The Riddler's" voice, I immediately thought of..

(Happy?)

I shook my head. I'm just delirious. Crazier than my mother and father put together.

Besides, that creep didn't remind me of Happy in the eyes.

(But he's always smiling)

And the leg, he didn't have a limpy leg

(But he had that cast and The Joker's not so good at first-aid..)

"Shut up. Shut up." I slapped myself in the face, trying to cleanse myself of such overly-imaginative thoughts. I listened intently, suddenly hearing his cane tap twice on the ground.

"You're going out to try and find her tonight? Already?"

"Yes, yes. You obviously don't know me well. When I am given a task, I perform. Exceed. I'll find her, I have a gut feeling. But in return, I want you finding out more about that girl. Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight. It can't be hard. You've got plenty of mobster people to pull strings with."

"But you didn't find a wallet or anything on her?"

"No, buddy. You find it out. Her name. Something."

"Oh? And how do you suppose I'll do that?"

"That, my friend, is a riddle for you to solve."

Ivy

I leaned against an old brick building's wall near the police station, after twisting around in alleys until night came, feeling sick. I had no fear of The Batman. He was just a man, after all. And he wasn't out very much anymore for some reason. Maybe he was depressed or still paranoid about his long-time fear that the cops were chasing him.

What was I doing? I was pretty much about surrender, give into this game. And he'd be alone. My partner, my friend, my lover would be all alone.

He knew I would come back and I knew I would too. Just like he knew that deep down I did love him. He just wanted me to affirm it.

But you know me, don't you?

I will not bow down to any man. I will spit in his face if I feel the need, lover or not.

I am a fighter, not a lamb. I am feirce, not weak. I am woman, not girl. Mistress, not wife.

I'm really Ivy, and I'm Ivy real. You'd better believe it, I'm a great big deal.

I began to cheer up and feel confident at this inner pep talk. I straightened. Gordon would be there or something, he was always working working working. Or maybe that young son of Gambol's, he would side with me, I could feel it. Or the young woman... Cosette's friend, who reminded me so much of Rachel I pushed it away painfully.

Oh, Rachel, I wish you were here...

I had let one life go at the expense of my man wanting to make a point to the world. I wasn't going to let it happen again. I was going to do something, fight back. Find my little girl. I was just as smart. I could scramble a few words. Maybe I didn't do it as chaotically as he did, but I'd still managed to figure it out, even before he ripped the message into bits. The one they gave us was just backwards, after all.

Mankind is so idiotic sometimes, refusing to see what is right under their nose.

(like you May and the fact that Jack loves you he'll probably come chasing after you)

"Shut up." I muttered angrily to the dark voice, taunting me in my head.

I straightened in the dark shadows, slinking back to the wall when I heard two female voices walking in the same space towards me, feeling disgusted and sympathetic when I realized the reason they were back here, and what they were conversing about.

"How much you get tonight?"

"Like 300 I don't know."

They sounded so young... I shook my head, ashamed of this world that allowed girls to get to this state.

"We can get a couple of hits with that... We'll go visit Benny, whaddaya say?"

"Sounds good..."

I could hear their footsteps stop. An unfamilair sound in the distance, a little ways behind them I supposed.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Clack.

Rhythmic, light, tapping. Had to be... a cane? I squinted, listening.

Curiousity killed the darn cat.

"You hear that?"

"Aw, Susan, it's nothin. Prolly just a cat."

I heard the cane stop and a chuckle as the two young women turned and gasped.

(oh it's probably just their pimp or something)

The male voice now, smooth and sleek,

"Hello, ladies. I rather regret that you're out here on a night like this. It's... chilly."

They seemed relieved, sighing,

(see they know him it's that benny guy or their snoop doggy dog or another costumer... calm down...)

"Boy, you scared us. You want somethin' mister?"

"No, no. And the proper pronounciation of the word is 'something'."

Shrieking giggles, "Look at mister Harvard over here with his fancy words."

'Mr. Harvard' cleared his throat, "Too bad you're brunettes."

"Huh?"

"It's a shame, you see. Brunettes don't interest me. I don't keep them around for very long..."

"Oh. Then get outta here mister, we're off work anyways."

Another smooth chuckle. His voice darkened as he spat, "How dare you assume me for such a man. What makes you think I want you whores?"

"Hey! You take that bac---"

A horrifying scream chilled the already cool night air, bouncing off the walls, the familiar (all too familiar) sound of a skull smashing open. I jumped out from my position in the shadows, acting quickly. The vines in my arm shot out, dragging the one woman that was left away, near me. She yelped in shock, looking up at me frightfully as I set her down.

"Run. NOW." I pushed her roughly, swiping up the little bastard's cane swiftly. He chuckled darkly, making me stop for a moment in surprise.

"Well, I didn't expect to be seeing you so soon. Where's your King, Queen?"

I snarled bitterly, bending his sickening, red murder weapon in half, vines reaching forward to grab him up and squeeze him dry.

"Such power! Such grace. Just as I remember... Ah, the Flower Lady always gets so, so tempermental."

I stopped dead, my vines wilting in apprehension.

Only a few choice people ever called me that.

Jack, when he was mocking his goons.

Goofy, of course.

Grumpy, yes.

And....

"Fortunately, I know The Flower Lady's weakness..."

I squinted. Goddamn alleyways, I could never see very well in them...

It came back to me then. Flooding back, hitting me with the huge shock of cold icewater. It made me so frozen I could not hear the sharp little click noise and the glint of a metal handgun in the barely there light.

"I really am sorry, old friend. But I have... a favor... for Two-Face..."

(Two-Face old friend flower lady??)

"Happy...?" I said, cocking my head.

A bang of the gun and all went black.