FIC: In the Small Things We See It [DCnU; Bette Kane, Duke Thomas]
Title: In the Small Things We See It
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Warnings: canon-typical violence
Word Count: 560
Summary: Hawkfire works alone. Duke Thomas has something to say about that.
Word of the Day:
varlet, noun:
1. An attendant or servant.
2. A page who serves a knight.
In the Small Things We See It
Duke Thomas yelped as the glass storefront in front of him practically exploded outwards -- he flung himself flat on the ground, and the brawling pair who had broken the glass went sailing over him to land in the street. He risked opening one eye to peek at what was going on.
Some white-looking blonde woman in black and gold, top half of her face hidden behind a gold mask, staggered to her feet before her opponent and kicked him in the gut. "Lousy pimp!" she hissed.
Duke scrambled to his feet and darted for the nearest alley. It wasn't a dead end. He could totally make a break for it, since neither of them were paying him any mi--
The crack of the gunshot echoed loudly off the surrounding buildings. Duke ducked around the corner as the woman cried out, nearly falling into a metal trashcan whose lid was weighted down with a fist-sized rock.
When he peeked back around, he saw that the woman had been clipped by the shot. She had one hand to her bleeding shoulder, but she was still standing. The white man was on one knee, swaying slightly, but his gun was still pointed at her.
"Nosy little costumed freak!"
She gave a yell and kicked straight forward at the pimp's gun hand -- and missed. He aimed for her head as she was recovering into a fighting stance.
And Duke acted before he could think the better of it; he grabbed the rock from the garbage can lid and pitched it hard at the man's back. The man cried out in shock and pain, and his arms jerked up. The shot went wild, and the woman's next kick nailed him in the chest even as he toppled forward. Then she was on him, both hands gripping at his wrists as she wrestled him to the ground.
Since he was in the thick of things anyway, Duke ran up to them, making sure that he was in the woman's line of sight. As the gun fell free of the man's grip, Duke kicked it down the street, where it lodged under the tire of a parallel-parked car. The woman smiled wryly as she gave him a little nod of acknowledgement, and then she butted heads with the pimp. He passed out, and she only gave her head a little shake, cracking her neck.
"I had him, you know."
"Well, now you know for sure," Duke snapped.
"Ease up, kid..." she paused, and sighed. "Sorry. Thanks for the assist."
Duke glanced around, glad to see that there wasn't anybody else coming for them. He looked back at the costumed woman. "What're you doin', taking a guy like this on alone?"
"He's just one lousy asshole..." she grumbled, as she secured him with thick plastic zip ties.
Duke shrugged. "Hey, even Batman needs Robin sometimes."
That got him a snort. "Tell that to Batwoman."
Duke just gave her a look. "Not talking to Batwoman, am I?"
"Name's Hawkfire." She stood, and dusted her hands off before offering one to Duke. He took it, a bit cautiously, and shook.
"I'm Duke."
Hawkfire grinned. "Well, Duke, it's not everyone who'd come back to help in a situation like that. If you're so sure that vigilantes need partners... I might be in the market for one."
"No kidding?"
"No kidding."
*-*-*-*-*
Author: D.L.SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Warnings: canon-typical violence
Word Count: 560
Summary: Hawkfire works alone. Duke Thomas has something to say about that.
Word of the Day:
varlet, noun:
1. An attendant or servant.
2. A page who serves a knight.
In the Small Things We See It
Duke Thomas yelped as the glass storefront in front of him practically exploded outwards -- he flung himself flat on the ground, and the brawling pair who had broken the glass went sailing over him to land in the street. He risked opening one eye to peek at what was going on.
Some white-looking blonde woman in black and gold, top half of her face hidden behind a gold mask, staggered to her feet before her opponent and kicked him in the gut. "Lousy pimp!" she hissed.
Duke scrambled to his feet and darted for the nearest alley. It wasn't a dead end. He could totally make a break for it, since neither of them were paying him any mi--
The crack of the gunshot echoed loudly off the surrounding buildings. Duke ducked around the corner as the woman cried out, nearly falling into a metal trashcan whose lid was weighted down with a fist-sized rock.
When he peeked back around, he saw that the woman had been clipped by the shot. She had one hand to her bleeding shoulder, but she was still standing. The white man was on one knee, swaying slightly, but his gun was still pointed at her.
"Nosy little costumed freak!"
She gave a yell and kicked straight forward at the pimp's gun hand -- and missed. He aimed for her head as she was recovering into a fighting stance.
And Duke acted before he could think the better of it; he grabbed the rock from the garbage can lid and pitched it hard at the man's back. The man cried out in shock and pain, and his arms jerked up. The shot went wild, and the woman's next kick nailed him in the chest even as he toppled forward. Then she was on him, both hands gripping at his wrists as she wrestled him to the ground.
Since he was in the thick of things anyway, Duke ran up to them, making sure that he was in the woman's line of sight. As the gun fell free of the man's grip, Duke kicked it down the street, where it lodged under the tire of a parallel-parked car. The woman smiled wryly as she gave him a little nod of acknowledgement, and then she butted heads with the pimp. He passed out, and she only gave her head a little shake, cracking her neck.
"I had him, you know."
"Well, now you know for sure," Duke snapped.
"Ease up, kid..." she paused, and sighed. "Sorry. Thanks for the assist."
Duke glanced around, glad to see that there wasn't anybody else coming for them. He looked back at the costumed woman. "What're you doin', taking a guy like this on alone?"
"He's just one lousy asshole..." she grumbled, as she secured him with thick plastic zip ties.
Duke shrugged. "Hey, even Batman needs Robin sometimes."
That got him a snort. "Tell that to Batwoman."
Duke just gave her a look. "Not talking to Batwoman, am I?"
"Name's Hawkfire." She stood, and dusted her hands off before offering one to Duke. He took it, a bit cautiously, and shook.
"I'm Duke."
Hawkfire grinned. "Well, Duke, it's not everyone who'd come back to help in a situation like that. If you're so sure that vigilantes need partners... I might be in the market for one."
"No kidding?"
"No kidding."
*-*-*-*-*