Story: See Ya In (and out) of the Funny Pages (chapter 3)

Authors: Pat Kelly

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Chapter 3

Title: Issue Three

{Scene: INSIDE WONDER WOMAN’S JET. Diana’s flying with Buffy in the seat beside her, then in the seats behind them, are Bruce and Kara. The teenage blonde is in plain attire like the rest of them, reading a comic book.}

 KARA: I’d fall out of the sky with those!

 XANDER {through her earpiece}: Tell me you’re not bending the cover back.

 {Yes, yes she is. She takes her hand off and lets it unbend, though.}

 KARA: I’m not bending the cover back. Does Barbara know what’s in this?

 {She gets no response, and smirks.}

 DIANA: I hear you flew a few days ago. With Willow.

 {Buffy’s eyes close.}

 BUFFY’S THOUGHT: Damn it. *That’s* why she wanted to teleport ahead.

 DIANA: Has she always been a witch?

 BUFFY: Mostly since college. {eyes open} Diana...

 {Her head turns toward her piloting girlfriend, who’s keeping her eyes forward.}

 DIANA: You’ll fly with her, with Shayera...

 BUFFY: Bizarro dropped me! I was plummeting!

 DIANA: I guess we remember it differently.

 BUFFY: It’s not you--how many times am I gonna hafta say? I’m a “feet on the ground” type of girl. Never went on roller coasters when I was little. Hot air balloons were a big no. I didn’t even watch “Airplane” ‘til after I was alive. The third time. If them being off is avoidable, I’m avoiding. And maybe I don’t...wanna ride my girlfriend in mid-air.

 {She leans forward, looking down out the windows.}

 BUFFY: There’re people down there. With cameras. Good cameras.

 {She leans back, flush, Diana has a small grin, Kara’s snickering, and Bruce has his eyes closed, and is pinching the bridge of his nose.}

 DIANA: New York is supposed to have excellent Chinese food...which most people in this country likely believe because the closest they’ve come to that region of Asia is through television. But still, once this is over, we could...try some.

 BUFFY: Ooh. Chinatown! It’s so a date. Hope we see those neat, paper-dragon thingies.

 DIANA: You’re buying.

 BUFFY {smiling}: When don’t I?

 BRUCE: Are we there yet?

 -----

 {Scene: MANHATTAN SLAYER HQ, LOFT BALCONY. Willow slides the balcony door closed behind her as she steps outside. Barbara’s there, standing at the balcony wall, looking out over the city. Sounds of traffic, construction, and urban life waft up from below.}

 WILLOW: This is less noisy?

 BARBARA: I’m used to it. {beat} In there, though...

 WILLOW: I’m used to “girl noisy.” {blush} That came out wrong.

 {Barbara laughs, turns around, and pushes herself up so she sits on the wall.}

 BARBARA: I’ve never been mobbed like that. Feel like a celebrity...I think I’d rather be alone with Two Face and Killer Croc. {eyes widen} *That* came out wrong.

 {Both of them blanch. Then Willow walks up and hops on the wall next to Barbara.}

 WILLOW: You’re not a celebrity back home? You’re Batgirl!

 BARBARA: Kara is. I try to disappear. Dark clothes? {beat} Bruce’s main rule is “don’t get noticed.” Massive property damage is okay, just don’t let anyone spot you. That’s why I always tease him about being a founding member of the League--they’re on the news every other day. {looks back toward the door} But those girls...I don’t get it. They didn’t all...read about me, did they?

 WILLOW: Probably a high percent. “Girl nerds” are in. It’s a movement now.

 BARBARA: What about the other percent?

 WILLOW: Andrew’s fault.

 BARBARA: Oh, *him*.

 WILLOW: You’re in the “orientation video” him and Violet made when we first started recruiting. He had this whole section about how they didn’t need superpowers to already be strong. His examples lasted “Pi”-long. You, Princess Leia, Captain Janeway, Gabrielle, President Roslin, Ripley...his heart was in a...place.

 BARBARA: Lemme guess...all fictional?

 WILLOW {after a moment}: Last week? Uh huh. Today? They maybe aren’t. May-maybe. Somewhere. D’you ever wonder how--?

 BARBARA: --nuts it is?

 WILLOW {guilty look}: I didn’t mean...we smiled! Remember?

 BARBARA: Then it’s because I like Xander.

 WILLOW: Used to “girl noises.” In a happy way.

 {That didn’t come out wrong.}

 BARBARA: Because I’m friends with Buffy? That’s my last straw left.

 {There’re several beats of silence as Willow decides what to say.}

 WILLOW: Xander and I were best friends before he said words, and I kinda did have a crush for, uh, eighteen years, so I liked what he liked. “You” comic books were my favorite.

 {She raises her hand.}

 WILLOW: High percent person. I wore your costume for Halloween; um, I was eight. We had lots in common. Our same hair, regular old girl nerds with nifty hacking skills, crime-figh...that last I might’ve pretended. But, two out of three. He never saw.

 BARBARA: So I was right.

 WILLOW: And the-the “Buffy” reason, too. You’re her new me.

 BARBARA: So you just completely lied.

 WILLOW: You never said “all of the above”! There was no “D”!

 BARBARA: That’s such a cheat. And if I’m supposed to be the new redhead, how come she constantly talked about you?

 WILLOW: She did? Buffy did?

 BARBARA {nods}: Both of them. They missed you, Willow. Six months is a long time.

 {She’s obviously fishing for information, but Willow doesn’t take the bait.}

 BARBARA: Listen, I don’t wanna get in between you guys. Getting away, coming here, having a friend like Buffy...I love it. Plus, Xander’s...really sweet. But once we stop the Joker, I’ll go back home. For good. If you want me to.

 WILLOW: How come you couldn’t be a bitch? No, you’re super nice, and I always wanted to meet you, and you can’t go. Xander hasn’t smiled tons since Anya; Buffy hasn’t since Spike made Sunnydale gobble itself up. But with you and Wonder...Diana, they have smiley-face smiles. Those’re nothing to achoo at.

 {She sighs, picks at her dress.}

 WILLOW: I wasn’t around helping, though. I was...by myself. For a long time. Then I’m back to Warren being alive with skin still missing, trying to “McMurphy” me. Dawnie’s Dawnie and we’re Lilliput, poor Switzerland got robbed, some stupid mystery guy-man wants magick gone, “Rainbow Buffy” isn’t just a dream I don’t have, and I’m babbling. To *Batgirl*. Missed so much. I dunno if I fit anymore.

 BARBARA: You do. It’s all in your head. {she hops off the wall} C’mon, it has to’ve died down, and I need to hack into that account before they land. You can watch.

 WILLOW {hops down too}: I could get in faster than you.

 BARBARA: Yeah, with magick maybe. Do you even remember how to use a computer?

 {Willow interlocks her fingers and stretches them out.}

 WILLOW: Get me a wireless card and a mocha.

 BARBARA {holds out her hand}: Loser pays for lunch? For the entire loft?

 {Willow shakes, then they walk over to the door, and Barbara slides it open.}

 WILLOW: Before I’m too game-faced? Thanks.

 {Barbara smiles, and they go inside, Willow becoming distracted by the other woman’s hair.}

 BARBARA: Before I am? Call me “Barbara.” After you call me the best.

 WILLOW {seemingly hasn’t heard a word, pouting}: Yours is more bouncy...

 -----

 {Scene: A MULTI-LEVEL HOME SOMEWHERE IN CONEY ISLAND, BROOKLYN. The Joker is sitting at a kitchen table, in a normal-looking kitchen, wearing glasses and making notes on a sheet of paper. Several sheets are strewn across the table, in various, crumpled states.}

 {He balls up the one he’s writing on, and tosses it in frustration.}

 THE JOKER: No, no, NO!

 HARLEY {calling from the other room}: How’s the plan comin’?

 THE JOKER: Never hurry genius. Especially if it’s mad. This is what happens when you build your reputation on being unexpected--the pressure’s murder. {blows air up into his face} I usually love that! How’s our little nest egg coming along?

 HARLEY: Almost a hundred G’s and counting.

 THE JOKER {giggling}: They grow up so fast.

 {Loud crashes and the general ruckus of fighting can be heard downstairs. He stands up sharply, and yanks the glasses off his face.}

 THE JOKER: Him? So soon? Impossible! His entrances are never this obvious. Well, they say an old bat’s sense of style is the first thing to go.

 {When he creeps downstairs, Harley has joined him, mallet in hand. The entire first level is a Barber shop. It hasn’t been in business for a while, as the sheen of dust over everything indicates. It’s kind of a fixer upper. Three of the Joker’s henchmen are in a pile at TWILIGHT’S feet. Yeah, *that* TWILIGHT.}

 THE JOKER {seeing that it isn’t Batman}: Ooh, a customer! {goes over to a chair, pulls the sheet off, and produces a razor from behind it} Shave and a haircut? Only two bits. Why, that’s practically slitting my own wrists. Rather slit yours, though. {grins}

 {Twilight steps over the pile.}

 TWILIGHT: YOU’RE INTERFERING WITH MY PLANS, CLOWN. THEY AREN’T MEANT TO COME HERE YET.

 THE JOKER: Oh, you’re one of them. {slides his palm down his face} Unimaginative mask, leather, deep, ominous voice that *has* to hurt the throat...no funny bone...if I wanted the competition, I wouldn’t have wasted all those frequent flyer miles. And look what you did to poor Harpo, Chico and Zeppo.

 TWILIGHT: THEY WERE IN MY WAY. AS ARE YOU. LEAVE.

 HARLEY: Get your own abandoned building! We were squatting here first!

 {She runs at him, ready to swing her mallet when it leaves her grip and floats into his. He drops it to the ground, snaps it under his boot, and reaches his hand out to snare her around the throat. With that one hand, he lifts her and throws her into one of the mirrors. She drops and slides off the counter below, onto broken glass.}

 THE JOKER {getting fearful}: Way to take one for the team, lambytoes.

 {He begins backing up, and Twilight levitates off the floor, beginning to glide to him.}

 THE JOKER: This town must be big enough for the two of us. Share the stage; let me put on my show. You won’t even know I’m there. {he has his fingers crossed behind his back} From one homicidal, ego-maniac to another.

 TWILIGHT: I’M NOTHING LIKE YOU. I WANT TO BETTER THE WORLD, YOU ONLY WANT TO TEAR IT DOWN.

 {The Joker’s hit a wall. He’s got nowhere to go.}

 THE JOKER: Here’s the thing I’ve always found about differences in philosophy...they rarely seem to matter when you’ve busted a gut.
 
{Twilight’s up next to his face. He goes to his old standby and releases “Joker Toxin” into Twilight’s mask. As it clears, Twilight holds there for several beats, then--}

 TWILIGHT: DON’T DO THAT AGAIN.

 {The Joker swallows nervously. His razor clatters to the floor.}

 TWILIGHT: HAVE YOUR SHOW. BUT NO HARM COMES TO THE SLAYER AND HER ARMY, OR IT ENDS. THIS IS A JACKET, NOT A CAPE. I WILL SEE YOU DEAD.

 {He turns away, and a portal opens in front of him.}

 THE JOKER {straightening his tie}: That’s it? Not afraid I’ll tear everything down? That there won’t be anything left once I’m through making the world smile? I can tell a hypocrite, and you aren’t. So how do I know you won’t drop by just in time to heckle the closing number? 

TWILIGHT: BECAUSE I WON’T HAVE TO. HE ALWAYS DOES.

 {With that, he exits. The Joker sneers at the closing portal. Then he looks perplexed.}

 THE JOKER: What’s a slayer? And I could swear he said, “army.” {looks at Harley} What do you think? Any ideas?

{Still slightly concussed, she tries to push herself up, but just collapses right back down.}

THE JOKER: Didn’t think so.

{He heads back upstairs.}

 HARLEY: Right behind ya, Mr. J.


 -----

 {Scene: AN UPPER MANHATTAN HOSPITAL, EARLY EVENING. Buffy and Diana step off an elevator as the doors open, onto the floor.}

 BUFFY: How do you fly, anyway? Always wondered.

 DIANA {slightly offensive}: How do you walk?

 BUFFY: I dunno. I just do.

 DIANA: Exactly.

 {They walk toward the nurses’ station, Buffy trying not to look at the patients moving or wheeling by, some ill, some injured.}

 BUFFY: Hate hospitals. And that was a serious question. Go get the lasso if you don’t believe me.

 DIANA {smile}: It was Hermes’ gift when I was born.

 BUFFY: {beat} My Aunt Darlene made me a blanket.

 DIANA: That’s a thoughtful gift.

 BUFFY: Yeah, yeah. Hope Will and Barbara were right about him getting brought here. And did they seem chummier than yesterday?

 {Before Diana can answer, they’ve reached the station, and the NURSE at the desk is looking at them.}

 NURSE: Can I help you?

 DIANA: Yes, we hope so. Could you tell us where we could find Andrew Bergman’s room, please?

 {The nurse takes in Diana’s height, quirks her eyebrow, and there’s a brief flash of recognition in her eyes before she seemingly lets it pass.}

 NURSE: Friend or family?

 BUFFY: Kinda more well-wishers. We saw what happened to him on the Internet, and we just wanted--

 NURSE: Let me save you ladies the trouble. You two aren’t the first to come in asking about that young man today, and when his mother heard about it...Doctor Fredricks ended up having to give the woman a valium to calm her down. Ask me she should sue that website.

 BUFFY: Will he be okay?

 NURSE: He’s got a lot of healing to do. {leaning forward, talking low} It’s like that son of a bitch just wanted to see how much he could bleed without killing him.

 {Buffy and Diana share a grim look.}

 DIANA: Would it be all right if we waited? We don’t want to upset his mother any further, but maybe once she wakens, we could ask her permission to...

 BUFFY: ...say hi.

 NURSE {eyebrow quirks again}: I need to change his dressings in an hour. I’ll see if she’s up then. Meantime, you can sit over there.

 DIANA: Thank you, Sister.

 NURSE: {beat} Sure. Whatever.

 {The couple heads over to the chairs in the small lounge.}

 BUFFY: “Wakens”?

 DIANA: Don’t get me started on your vocabulary.

 {Seated, Buffy takes off her coat and makes a pillow out of it on Diana’s lap, then lays her head there.}

 BUFFY: Shut up. You love my unconventional-ness.

 DIANA: I think this is another one of those things we remember differently.

 {Her hand absently strokes the slayer’s hair.}

 BUFFY: Yeah, yeah. How do you think Plan B’s going?

 -----

 {Scene: ANDREW BERGMAN’S APARTMENT, LOWER MANHATTAN. “Plan B” is in progress. Willow magick’s open the locked door and ducks under the police tape to come into the small apartment. Living room and kitchen are almost one in the same.}

 WILLOW: Look at me, I’m breaking laws; I’m “Lawbreaker Willow.” I feel dirty.

 BATMAN: Then take a shower after we’re done.

 {He steps out of the shadows next to the open window on the other end of the apartment. That’s how he got in. Willow nearly jumps out of her skin.}

 WILLOW: Don’t do that!

 {That was louder than she intended, and in an instant, his hand is clamped over her mouth.}

 BATMAN: Quiet.

 WILLOW: Mmf srrpha.

 {He removes his hand, she dials down to a whisper.}

 WILLOW: I woulda been way more jumpy if you were “Frogman.” Whoo.

 {He stares at her.}

 WILLOW: I-I have frog fear.

 BATMAN: You didn’t need to come.

 WILLOW: Buffy made me backup. Case something CNN-able happens. Then I’ll just whip up a spell, and--

 BATMAN: Nobody will ever know we were here. If. You’re. Quiet.

 WILLOW: Can do. In high school I was mousey.

 {He heads away from her, down the small hallway, toward an ajar door at the end.}

 WILLOW {grumbling}: Grouch.

 BATMAN: As soon as I find a trail worth following, don’t hesitate.

 {He isn’t speaking to her.}

 -----

 {Scene: SKIES OVER NEW YORK CITY. Supergirl is flying, with Batgirl on her back. They’ve done this before.}

 SUPERGIRL: Roger. I’ve got my ear to...like, everywhere.

 XANDER {through their earpieces}: Satellite feed is live on this end. And Violet’s got all the shortest cuts mapped out. Give me an address and we’ll give you the quickest route.

 {He coughs.}

 XANDER: So, uh, you and Will and the “bonding time” today...what’d you gals gab about?

 BATGIRL {grinning}: Wouldn’t you like to know.

 XANDER {under his breath}: S**t.

 BATGIRL: She’s just lucky I called a draw.

 {She isn’t speaking to him.}

 -----

 {Scene: BACK AT ANDREW BERGMAN’S APARTMENT. Batman and Willow are in his bedroom now, staring at the bloodstain on the carpet, and the chair he’d been sitting in, in the video. He’s got a bed, a small shelf with a boom box on top and CDs and books below, and a desk where his computer should be. Couple posters too.}

 {Willow looks like she wants to object to Barbara’s statement.}

 BATMAN: Keep the channel clear.

 {He starts doing his detective thing in the room, inspecting the drawers of the desk, the trashcan underneath, etc. Willow tries to stay out of the way.}

 WILLOW: I wish his computer wasn’t gone.

 BATMAN: You said it was in the crime scene report. The police took it as evidence.

 WILLOW: I know, I’m just wishing. Worked one time.

 {She steps over to the closet door and looks inside. A guitar, assorted odds’n’ends, shirts and pants hanging up, a set of plastic drawers filled with shorts, sweats, socks, underwear.}

 {She pulls a shirt down from its spot. Black. With the words, “Welcome to Strong Badia. Population: Tire,” and a picture of a tire with a snake through it, tail grasping a knife, all against a white, picket fence.}

 WILLOW: He has another one.

 {She closes the door, and sees Batman standing up from a crouch by the bed.}

 BATMAN: Why?

 WILLOW: Trust me. I keep my geekdar almost as honed as my lesbidar, and if he doesn’t, then I’ll be a French monkey’s aunt. With cute, little monkey glasses. Anything under there?

 BATMAN: It’s the bedroom of a fifteen-year-old.

 {It takes her a second, but she gets it. She automatically makes an “eew face,” but then cocks her head in curiosity.}

 BATMAN: This hypothetical, second computer *wasn’t* in the report.

 WILLOW: Nosiree-bat. {she giggles, he doesn’t} Quiet?

 BATMAN: Let’s say your instincts are right. If the police don’t have it, the Joker didn’t want it found. And let’s say he didn’t take it with him.

 WILLOW: Why wouldn’t he have?

 BATMAN: Because it’s part of his game. Which means it’s still here somewhere. {he thinks} There was air...

 WILLOW: Huh?

 BATMAN {moving the bed}: A vent. I felt the heat.

 {Sure enough, there’s a vent in the wall, at floor level. A child might be able to fit, or a svelte adult. A laptop could definitely hide there. It isn’t screwed in. He pulls it off and reaches cautiously inside.}

 {His hands find both sides and slide it out, but it’s harder than it should be. He can feel something weighting it down. He hears the odd, off-key tune, just before he gets the laptop all the way out. Along with a “Joke-In-the-Box” whose handle started to turn at the first, slightest jostle.}

 BATMAN: Willow, run! *Now*!

 {...Doot-doot-dee-doot-dee-doot-deet-doooo-doot, goodbye...}

 -----

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