Thoughts, Questions, Fears, Tiredness

Kara and Barbara swaggered into the manor via the side entrance by the garage. Both were somewhat swooning after their dinner with Maven “Lynx” Donald-Lee.

“Man that girl has a tongue on her,” Barbara smiled.

“Oh yeah,” Kara said, “Selina has taught her well.”

“I bet she gives Gene Simmons a run for his money in the oral sex Olympics,” Barbara smirked.

“I bet her tongue is longer,” Kara giggled.

“So how was the walk and talk with Tiffany?” Barbara asked.

“Every time we met a young white male she would tell me,” Kara started then altered her voice to sound like Tiffany Fox, “You should hook up with that white boy!”

“What about a handsome black man?” Barbara asked.

“No, just single Caucasian men,” Kara shrugged, “The blonde security guard, the department head’s assistant, that McGinnis kid with the picture of him and the secretary from legal on his desk, even the Canadian Valley.”

“Does she know you are Kryptonian and not Caucasian?” Barbara giggled.

“No…” Kara admitted.

“Ah, right this way,” Alfred said stepping into the hallway in front of the pair.

Both of them sobered up instantly and followed Alfred to the sitting room where Helen and Karen were sitting together on a love seat while Bruce was sitting next to a end table with a coffee cup on it and another love seat was set up in front of a coffee table with a laptop from the cave down stairs sitting there. Barbara and Kara understood what was going and took their seats quietly. Barbara opened up the laptop and logged in.

“Ah, Jason, come and join us,” Bruce called to the hallway.

“Sure,” Jason said as he stopped and walked into the sitting room before shouting “Oh Fuck! I swear I didn’t do it this time…”

“You almost sound believable,” Alfred said appearing behind Jason with a tray, “Have a seat.”

Alfred served Karen and Helen tea and poured more coffee for Bruce while Barbara, Kara and Jason got glasses of water.

“Have a seat Alfred,” Bruce said, “Now about the new students…”

“Yes,” Helen opened a Canadian Portfolio and looked at the first file, “Rose Worth, aka Rose Wilson.”

“Aka Ravager,” Jason smirked.

Bruce shot Jason a hard look.

“Yes, what amounts to two fights a day since she enrolled and not a single loss so far…” Helen said dryly.

“Who has she been fighting?” Barbara asked.

“None of the Titans prospects so far,” Karen said then demurred when Helen looked at her.

“Mostly just the children of rather wealthy families,” Helen noted.

“Counter Intelligence?” Bruce asked.

“She tried to grill me on what is really going on,” Jason shrugged.

“She was trying to interrogate Young Miss Roth, among others,” Helen stated looking at the notes before clasping Karen’s hand.

“Should we let her into the Basment?” Jason asked.

“Not just yet,” Bruce said, “Let’s see if she finds the way herself… Now this Lawford kid?”

Bruce looked at Barbara, who brought up the file.

“Justin Lawford Father is a Wallstreet Banker and his mother is lawyer for a New York Advertising Firm,” Barbara read from the notes, “Seems like classic ‘spoiled child syndrome’ to me.”

“Agreed,” Helen said, “I would use a paddle…”

“He might like that too much,” Jason interjected.

“But I feel he warrants a cane or what mother taught me to do with a bullwhip,” Helen had a sadistic smile on her face.

“What about Doctor Philips?” Bruce asked.

“Doctor Garry Phillips,” Barbara started reading, “Recently worked for the Department of Veterans Affairs as a crisis councilor.”

“Was he a prior service?” Helen asked.

“Not exactly. He was in JROTC in high school back in Indianapolis and ROTC in Indiana State University,” Brabara said.

“Jay-Are… what?” Jason asked.

“Junior Reserve Officer Training Corps,” Bruce said, “And Reserve Officer Training Corps. Military training for students to get scholarship money with a requirement to serve in the reserve forces after graduation.”

“Except in his case the spring break of his last year of university he was aboard Flight MRC5846,” Barbara said.

Helen and Karen didn’t get it this time.

“The flight crashed in Dallas Fort Worth and three-fourths of the passengers and crew died,” Bruce informed the other worlders, “Happened a bit before you arrived in this version of earth.”

“We will keep that in mind when dealing with Doctor Philips,” Helen pronounced.

“His parents were killed and he finished the his premed program from a hospital bed,” Barbara said looking over the notes on the background check, “Med school at Columbia in New York City, first few years had disability scholarships because he was in a wheel chair, focused on behavior health and this would be where he met Doctor Quinzelle since they had a few classes together in the med school.”

“What about him working for the VA?” Helen asked.

“Interned at Tripler in Hawaii,” Barbara said, “Worked with the crisis help center out of Big Springs Texas, then a stint in Bethesda Naval Hospital with out-patient behavior services.”

“And now he works for me?” Helen asked.

“According to this, yes,” Barbara said, “His records are all good, no problems… the big thing is the crash and being released from the service requirement from the ROTC. He turned around and went on to help others. He seems to have a serious altruistic streak.”

“What were his injuries?” Karen asked.

“Spinal,” Barbara read from the notes.

“He has been messaging his back when he thinks no one is looking,” Helen noted, “He seems very commendable. Noble, even. Was ready to serve and went on to service our veterans…”

“Excuse me,” Kara said getting up, “I need to use the girl’s room…”

Kara exited the room. It was too weird to sit there across from her older doppelganger… Kara went out into the hall and turned to find a bathroom. What she didn’t expect to see was Selina looking at paintings in the hallway. And Kara was even more confused as to why Selina was wearing boots, shiny gloves and a long black rubber rain coat… Selina put a shiny finger to her lips in a ‘quite’ gestured then gestured for Kara to follow her. Kara followed the older woman. Selina made her way into the billiard room and she took a seat at the poker table.

“Meow,” Selina said rubbing her fingers together.

Kara recognized the squeaks and pops of shined and polished rubber gloves. She could see that Selina had done her makeup and tied her hair back in a high ponytail.

“What are you doing?” Kara asked.

“I came to get a bit of Batdaddy action before he goes for patrol,” Selina purred, “I understand you had dinner and an orgy with my Lynx Maven.”

“Yes,” Kara smiled.

“Meow,” Selina smiled as she got up.

Kara watched as Selina reached over and she opened a hidden compartment on the pool table and dialed a few random numbers.

“You better head off…” Selina smiled, “Miss Kitty is going to get Batdaddy throw the door in six…”

Kara turned and left she ignored Bruce as he walked over billiard room. She could hear Bruce challenge Selina only to go silent when her super hearing heard the rubber rain coat fall to the floor. It was at that point Kara turned on the power dampener in her earrings.

*

Kara was dressed as Batgirl and holding her cowl and cape in her arm as she looked over the notes on what remained of Falcone’s organization. The ding of the elevator got Kara’s attention.

“Helen,” Kara smiled.

Helen was still in the blue pants suit she wore as headmaster of Gotham Academy, but her demeanor was that of super villain dominatrix.

“You really are uncomfortable around Karen,” Helen stated.

“Yeah, really weird to see her since she was me but…” Kara started but stopped and looked down into her cowl.

“We are not who we were because we didn’t fully escape,” Helen said as she walked over and took a seat by the computer terminal, “You can say it. We were corrupted by the Anti-life Equation. Despite everyone’s best effort, we didn’t make out it, not with our original souls…”

“But you made it out with your lives,” Kara pointed out.

“Yes,” Helen said, “We did. But it is disconcerting to see us isn’t it? Especially since she once was so close to who you are…”

“Gives me a headache just thinking about it,” Kara said, “How does she deal with it?

“She just doesn’t think about it,” Helen said.

“And what about you?” Kara asked.

“I keep myself focused on the tasks at hand,” Helen said.

“Well I need to head out of patrol,” Kara said.

“I wonder if tonight will be their night for their version of me,” Helen said looking up.

“Who knows,” Kara said, “Those two aren’t shy about their intimacy.”

“How does Richard feel about Bruce?” Helen asked.

“What?” Kara asked.

“My Richard was always a bit resentful of him,” Helen said, “A part of him blamed Bruce for a missed out youth…”

“You would have to ask Dick,” Kara shrugged, “Let me ask you something, what is your problem with Jason?”

“The one I dealt with,” Helen intoned gravely, “Was a killer. And this one is displaying all the same traits.”

*

Crane looked over the notes again. To call these ‘adverse reactions,’ was like calling Chernobyl a ‘mild hiccup.’ His phone rang.

“Doctor Crane,” He picked up the receiver, “OK. I will be right down.”

Crane locked up the reports and notes before leaving his office and locking the door behind him. He walked down to the quarantine wing. The orderly pointed him to the first cell on the right. Crane checked the chart. One Jamal Reynolds, African American, five foot seven tall, suspected homeless who was violent when the police confronted him for drunk and disorderly but he was stone sober. Crane put the chart back and entered the room.

“You look like I feel,” the man said looking Crane up and down.

“Double shifts will do that,” Crane said, “What is the problem Mister Reynolds?”

“Spider! Spider! Black Widow!” the man pointed in the corner above the door, “Black Widow going to kill me!”

Crane looked above himself and then turned to look in the corner. There was a spider in the corner of the room and the ceiling. Crane adjusted his glasses then knocked on the door.

“If we take care of the spider would that calm you down mister Reynolds?” Crane asked.

“Spider and the eggs, they are ganna kill me!” the man stuttered.

“Can you bring a broom in here?” Crane knocked on the door for the orderly, “We will get rid of the spider and any webbing.”

Crane regarded the man for a minute, he at one point must have been rather strong, but his muscle had left him and there were grey patches of skin on his rather dark complexion. Crane tried to run possible medical conditions that would cause that. The Orderly came in with the broom.

“Could you please take care of the spider?” Crane pointed up in the corner.

“It’s a black widow! It’ll kill us all!” Reynolds shouted.

“It’s just a Daddy Long Legs,” the orderly said, “Mythbusters proved their bite just hurt but a min.”

“Black Widow! Killer!” Reynolds shouted.

The Orderly got the spider and cleaned it up. Crane waited for him to leave before going over to site on the bed next to Mister Reynolds.

“Spiders are killers! They are killers!” Mister Reynolds sputtered.

“Some can be,” Crane noted calmly, “Mister Reynolds, are you familiar with ‘Arachnophobia’?”

“I hate that movie!” Reynolds spat at no one.

“I wasn’t a big fan of it myself. But I think your problem is you have Arachnophobia Mister Reynolds,” Crane said, “A massive fear of spiders.”

“They will kill you!” Reynolds snapped, “Doctor lady said I needed a pet friend and turned that killer loose on me.”

“Which doctor?” Crane asked.

“White Woman, pink haired Barbie doll Doctor,” Reynolds said, “She said I needed to explore my fears and the friend would keep me company!”

Crane arched an eyebrow and kept questioning the man.

*

Crane returned to his office and brought up the computer. He had to file the notes from his conversation with Mister Reynolds. There was an email. It was from the manufacture lab, it told him they had made the compound as a solution in an inert gas can but one of the people had misgivings about using an aerosolized version over a cough syrup. Crane rubbed his forehead, had he asked for a gas? Surely with such poor results that wouldn’t do. Crane looked at the note book and went about typing the notes from the conversation, he would sort out the miscommunication with the lab in the morning.

“You ok?” Harley asked from the open door.

“Hmm?” Crane looked up.

“You left your door open,” Harley said, “You never leave your door open.”

Crane could have sworn he had closed the door.

“Tired,” Crane said, “I have to type some notes and then I will head home.”

“What notes?” Harley asked.

“Mister Reynolds,” Crane said, “New guy in Police observation.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Harley asked professionally.

“Arachnophobia, among other things,” Crane said.

“Must be acute Arachnophobia for him to end up here,” Harley noted.

“Well that is one of many things,” Crane said, “He will need a full evaluation. If you don’t mind Doctor Quinzelle, I need to type these notes so I can get some rest.”

“Good night Doctor Crane.”

As the blonde doctor left, a thought crossed Cranes mind, she would look like a pink haired Barbie with a wig…

“I really need a vacation,” Crane muttered to himself.