Walking [the] Straight [and] into the Narrows (COMPLETE)

[Connor Kent]

To say the girl was prickly would have been an understatement. Given the circumstances, Connor fully-expected to find himself on the receiving end of one of those jaw-breaking kicks if he so much as tried to comfort her. That’s what was done in situations like that, right? Girls liked it when guys put their arms around them. He saw it on TV all the time: the girl cried, and the guy put his arm around her, and she smiled again. Mo said that girls were complicated, but all that arm stuff seemed pretty straightforward to him. Then again, he reconsidered, drinking in the sight of the feisty red head in front of him, there were always exceptions to the rule.

“Bitch, you gon’... you gon’ pay!”

Under the strain of his advance, Owlish sounded like an asthmatic rooster, wheezing his pitiful call. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor recognised that lopsided shuffle, even at a distance. When he returned his attention to the girl, his face was alight with urgency.

“Quick, hit me,” he said. The girl’s sudden pacifism left him incredulous. “Hit me!”

[Barbara Gordon]

"What?" Barbara stared at him, and then at the other Crow who was coming closer, swearing (and sweating) profusely as he tried to catch his breath. "I -"

Crow 3 looked exasperated for some reason, and then feinted a punch at her. She grabbed his hand and yanked him forward, throwing him over her hip and to the ground. He didn't try getting up, even though she knew (well, was pretty sure) he hadn't hit his head. Mo was starting to stir from his spot on the asphalt, and she was torn between relief and anxiety that he was going to be okay. Two and Three were no doubt going to jump up at any moment, and Four was nearly upon her.

His size worried her, but he seemed more likely to pass out just from moving than to pose a real threat to her. Barbara grabbed her can of mace (extra strength), and held it out at arms length toward him. He laughed, not a nice laugh, and lunged for her - only to get a face full of pepper spray and a shoe to the groin. He screeched and fell over sideways, and she turned and maced the other Crows for good measure as they were regaining consciousness or were playing dead for indecipherable reasons.

Then Barbara ran back the way she'd come.

[Connor Kent]

As he was upended, and sent tumbling through the air, Connor felt a strange wave of relief. All he had to do was lie on the floor until the girl was out of sight, and then rouse himself with a liberal helping of groans. Hissing, too - that’s what people did when they felt pain. No, not hissing, he reflected, it was more like sucking air through clenched teeth. That’s what he would do, he decided.

But the girl wasn’t finished, it seemed. From the cold pavement, he caught a glimpse of her doing a number on Owlish. By the time she swept past to spray him with something that had the others doing that not-hissing thing, Connor was convinced that this was a girl who took strange pleasure in hurting people. He wiped the moisture from his eyes and caught the hint of something spicy. He sucked a finger. Not bad.

“Which way did she go? Which way?” Turk was up, scrubbing furiously at his face. Mo was on his feet, too, squinting through glossy red eyes. He pointed in the direction the girl had disappeared.

“I heard her go that way. Come on!”

It was at this point, Connor spasmed from his torpor, and deposited himself into his buddies’ arms. He groaned like a drunk, and sucked on his teeth, clutching his back, his neck, his arm. Under his weight, the other Crows faltered and flailed - so he was laying it on a bit thick, it was no time for half-measures.

“I saw her,” he managed, feebly, almost losing his footing a second time, “She ran that way. Hurry, she’s getting away!”

“Look at this guy!” Owlish appeared, full of tears, and disgust, “Fuckin’ pussy, man!”

The others seemed to agree, because they allowed him to crumple to the ground, unsupported. They did, however, take his advice, and took off in the opposite direction, hurling abuse at the night. Connor, on the other hand, relaxed, and basked in the surprise success of his amateur acting skills. So what if the pavement was cold and hard? The sky was full of stars.

[Barbara Gordon]

Her feet slapped the pavement as she ran, and Barbara made a mental note to up her cardio sessions because this was getting ridiculous. Once she made it back to her car she realized that she wasn't going to be able to drive it away - the back fender was bent up into her tire, making it impossible to get it moving without tearing it up. She stepped gingerly through the broken glass from the rear window, intending to get into her car, and then she paused, looking back at the abandoned van.

The back of it was locked, but the drivers side door was hanging open so Barbara hopped inside and crawled between the front seats into the back. She grabbed a pen from her satchel and took it apart, leaving the insides in her bag as she pulled open one of the boxes and rifled past the body armor to the brick of greyish stuff. Biting her lower lip, Barbara poked a small hole in the corner of the drugs and stuck the pen inside, filling it with the substance and then capping both ends. She brushed it clean and stuck it back into her satchel, trying her best to replace everything the way she'd found it.

Climbing back out of the van, she hurried back to her car, pausing for a moment to consider licking her finger like she saw cops doing on TV sometimes to test the drug, but decided that was pretty stupid and instead wiped the last bit of unknown drug off on her pants. She emptied her glove compartment and back seat as best she could, stuffing all her belongings into her satchel, including another sweatshirt and a couple library books. The less she left here to steal, or that could be traced back to her, the better.

Once she was done she started walking, at right angles to where she'd been previously, and stared at the two phones in her possession. After a moment she put the green one back into her bag, and flipped through the contacts in her personal phone. D. Grayson. She knew her friend was back in town, but she hadn't seen him yet. And he could probably be convinced to keep this between them, rather than immediately running to her uncle about it. Hopefully.

Barbara held the phone to her ear as it dialed, and she walked straight on through the Narrows.