Two Sides to the Coin

Summary:
February 22, 2015: Melody Kenway arranges a meet with Harvey Dent days after the annihilation of the Gangster Disciples. The two double-cross the other without knowing.

The Second Chance Motel

<Location Description>


Characters

NPCs

  • Delilah
  • Samantha
  • Yin-Yang Twins

Mood Music:
[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tgYr03o3dE]


The Second Chance Motel lay on the outskirts of Gotham, close to the industrial district, a place so tainted by chemicals and pollution that you couldn't even pay people to live here anymore. They once had, of course, cheap rent in exchange for the risk of your kids turning out with three eyeballs or you dying of cancer that came out of nowhere cause you spent your days inhaling god knows what. Lawsuits put an end to all that, and the few business and apartments left barely make it. The Second Chance would likely go under if not for its mysterious benefactor.

Said benefactor, the gangster known as Two-Face, sits in what amounts to a luxury suite in this hellhole. A double-bedded room with a split paintjob, rose red on one side and sky blue on the other. Harvey found both colors to be cheerily irritating, but he supposed black and white would both be a little suspicious and not great for building customers. He flipped the coin and it came up clean. Hmmmmmm. Looked like he'd be letting it go for now. As if a switch was thrown, all irritation at the room swept away. Fate had decided, a verdict had been rendered. No point thinking about it.

He's in his usual suit, a pair of cigarettes laying in the ashtray, alternating puffs between them. Samantha and Delilah each have a bed to themselves, today in contrasting jumpsuits, the albino and the Nigerian women joined in a strange dance of rivalry and lust. Not that Two-Face gave a good goddamn about their feelings. They suited him and, so long as they continued to do so, he would use them as he pleased. Both were also lethal enough in their own ways, if it came down to it, although, from his research, Harvey doubted he would need a bodyguard.

'The Odd Couple' plays on the TV, drawing a couple of laughs from the girls, but Harvey just sits in his chair, watching the door. Any minute now. He wondered if the girl would walk out of here alive. Maybe. Maybe not. He looked at the coin as he rolled it over his knuckles. Oh, well. Wasn't really up to him.


There were times where Melody's skills happened to take her out of the Tin Roof. Weeks back, right after the war of East End started, she tried to rob a jewelry store. That didn't work out. Finally putting the necklace upon her neck just felt like it wasn't worth the trouble of scaring the man half to death. At least she met Oliver Queen; got a job offer out of it too! If this life of a criminal doesn't pan out at least she could try corporate living, right? Then she was shot full of arrows and bullet holes. Then she had a shoulder dislocated by Batman for defending Catwoman and her personal little bodyguard. What good did Keith do. Then, she set the Ghost Rider up to give the Street Demonz a mythical standing next to the Alley Cats, who had their own figure head in the form of the Cat.

Now, she was headed for the big times. Analyzing data and seeing the ruckus with her own eyes the night before, she figured that the one person who could really, aside from the Irish, give Catwoman a run for her money when it comes to taking over East End. The man they call Two-Face.

Melody didn't know much about the guy, just that he was bat shit insane. She could deal with bat-shit insane, really. She gave Batman a hug, even hugged the Darkness once, even if he got her boyfriend trapped in a hell dimension for six months. Pretty sure he didn't mean it.

But she was there outside the door, staring down two heavy set guards, each of them casting their eyes upon the little whelp who presented herself in a nice pantsuit that she really looked uncomfortable in. She leans just enough to cause her ankle to twist awkwardly, the heel making her stumble left and right, her hands held out for anything to catch her if she should fall…

SAFE! WE'RE GOOD! NO FALLING HERE! PHEW!

"Sorry.. sorry!" She chirped out, happy as all get out. "I'm Rant. Here to see the man aptly and cleverly named Two-Face." *bling!* That was the sound of her grin, it makes noises. Okay, no it doesn't, all done for effect.


The Ying-Yang twins, sumos stuffed into business suits, don't seem to have much reaction to the girl's attempt at humor. They don't try to catch her either, letting her regain her footing on her own. Mercy would not be found listed among their better qualities - only obedience and efficiency. Still, she seems to have said the magic words, as one of them opens the door and gestures for her to go in.

Two-Face's chair is opposite the door, giving her a straight shot to look at the man himself, while his molls lounge languidly on the beds. Samantha, the albino, barely registers, her heavy-lidded gaze that of a junkie, as testified by the needle laying on the nightstand. Delilah, as always by contrast, as bright, eager eyes, the cocaine in her blood making her almost hyperenergetic, squirming a little as if trying to contain herself. Except she knew - or rather, didn't know - what Two-Face would do if she got up. He'd told them to stay on the beds and he rarely took it well if you disrupted his symmetry.

"Come in, kid," he says, his voice a bit raspy, the linger aftereffect of the bits of the acid that got swallowed, damaging part of his throat. He still had an ulcer, too, which hardly helped with his mood. "Gotta say, I don't make personal calls often, but word has it you're one of the Cat's chosen few. She ain't exactly known for her long-lasting friendships," he says, taking a sip of his two fingers of bourbon, "Meetin' with me ain't likely to make you stay friends with her, unless you're here on her behalf - but I thinks he has enough respect to come herself, if that's the case."

Two-Face believed in respect. Word was he'd slaughtered a whole street gang not long back just for showing him a hint of disrespect. Two-Face was old school, from his old fashioned gangster style to his code of dark honor - a code he would happily ignore if the code told him to do so. The ruined side of his face seems to be constantly sneering, the bulging eye wet in the socket, like it was constantly weeping. There was no grief there, though, only madness in the simmering depths.


It was no attempt at humor, even though things happened to her that may seemed humorous, Melody rarely, if ever, saw it all as funny. But as the large men opened the door, she stepped right on in, the sight of the room giving her a bit of pause, compared to the floors and outdoors, this room must have been reserved for him. Only for him, just judging by the price.

She didn't say much as he began to speak, finding it better to take a step aside from the door, the toe of her stilletos pressed against the back of her heel so that she could shuck one shoe for the other. Where she was once a decent 5'5, she was cut down to an even 5'1. A shrimp, for shrimps sake, but she could pack a punch if she knows where to throw it.

"One? I think I'm the only one left. The other girl died." Which is what started the war to begin with. People actually get enough of others killing of their friends, Selina's just reached the boiling point and bubbled right over. "I actually came on her behalf, but if she knew that I was to come here to see you, that she would offer to come with. But I'm in charge of organizing her business ventures and the books, and whatever else she may need. Such as, getting stuff to the right buyer for a pretty penny to put into her pockets." A fence. As you will.

She looked rather uncomfortable, it wasn't the ladies or the fact that his face was burned all to shit, part of it.. but the outfit she chose to wear to look all business like was stifling. A button was unsnapped to give her a little bit of room to breath, along with the buttoned shirt that sat so close to her neck it looked almost stiff.

"That's better.." She mumbled to herself, crossing the room with a few strides to reach out a hand and offer a smile. She was probably.. the only nice one in Gotham. Even though her job was as precarious as it was. "I'm Rant."


Two-Face watches her every movement, even though only the one eye seems to move. He still saw just fine out of both, but his ruined eye didn't show it, flicking with attention but not with motion, bloodshot and nestled in its nest of burns. He can immediately see how the girl got her name - she talked a lot, the words spilling out of her like she could barely hold them back, and she wore her fancy clothes like a rookie out of law school, sweating through her pits before her first trial.

Harvey liked to watch people sweat.

He dances the coin over his scarred knuckles, letting her wait for a moment and then flicking coin up in the air, a practiced, perfected motion that lets it fall precisely back into his palm. He opens his fingers, "Looks like things are goin' your way so far, Rant," he says. He rises up to take the hand properly, his over six feet in height, broad shoulders and powerful build all intimidating, even without his obvious mutilation. He used them all to his advantage.

He returns to his seat, gesturing to a small chair nearby for the girl to sit, "Business ventures and the books. You don't look much like an accountant to me, but, then, we've all learned not to judge on appearance, haven't we?" he says with a ghoulish half-smile. "The right buyer, huh? So is that all this is, you lookin' to unload a piece of merchandise on me? Gotta say, even I've got people for that. So I'm bettin' it's more than just offerin' me a pretty two-headed statue or a double-diamond ring or whatever yer boss has swiped this week," he says.

'So, Rant…talk. We're listenin'."


The flick of the coin draws her hand back, her eyes following the shining metal, up until it lands upon the middle of his palm, her head tilting just a little to the left. Huh? What was that all about…

Whatever! It's cool! "Well I hope that's a good thing? Cause lately, I haven't been having a lot of luck. This whole thing that's going on with Catwoman is making me out to be her personal pin-cushion." She laughs a little, taking his hand with a little show of 'manly' strength. Papa Kenway always said that if you're going to shake a man's hand. You squeeze just enough to gain their attention and look them right in the eye. Respect.

She does just that, keeping the eye contact even if she had to tilt her head upright, her hand falling away at her side as he gestures to the small chair nearby. The suit-jacket was soon removed, cell phone fished out of her pockets, then the seat was taken with a slight hop and a scoot back to drape the pants over her legs. She really didn't sit like a proper lady, she crossed her legs underneath her coat with her hands and phone right atop.

And one of those hands? They lift to give a slight wave towards Sam and Delilah.

"I think everyone has a fence. Which is pretty cool, I'm not here trying to hock my skills because you potentially have more money than Selina, given by this here place you got.." She stops to look around for a moment, then draws in a breath. "But I'm sure you're aware of the wars that are going down in East End. The lines are being drawn and.. you pretty much had an unwitting hand at taking down and out the Gangster Diciples. Which Selina is secretly grateful for. They were going to be a problem. But, I'm sure she doesn't want you mixed up in any of the dealings that East End is currently going through since it's her territory. So I've decided to approach you as a show of faith that she'll stay out of your way if you stay out of hers."

Okay, poor choice of words. But, whatever! Melody said it nice enough!


Two-Face couldn't help but admire the cojones on the girl, coming over here and trying to negotiate a truce in advance, wanting to make peace even before a war could break out. And doing it, pretty clearly, without her boss' authority and, along the way, admitting to the Cat's weak hand. Kind of thing could get you killed - but the Cat didn't like to kill, everyone knew that. She liked to put on a fierce face, of course and, no doubt, could handle herself with the best of 'em. But there wasn't a lot of blood on her claws and everybody knew it.

None of which mattered to Two-Face. He hadn't thought much about the East End because of precisely that reason. Not much challenge and the place seemed to run smoothly enough - takes a whore to know a whore, maybe, and the girls down that way were reasonable, clean and protected. Everybody benefits when the tail you paid for is worth the price, as far as Harvey's concerned. Not that he needs to these days. He was good at finding girls with just that right mix of Daddy issues and borderline schizophrenia to fall quickly in love with him. And, when they broke, there were always more to be found.

None of which meant he had to play nice with Rant. If she wants to represent her boss, then she'll have to learn to swim with the sharks. And Two-Face had plenty of teeth, "Stay out of her way? Seems to me she'd be lucky if I didn't stomp her little kitty head in and make violin strings out of her guts," he says, taking a long draw on his cigarette, making a point to alternate between the smokes. "I eliminated the Disciples because they thought they could piss on my leg without getting kicked. They found out I kick and I kick hard."

"As for territory? Territory is what you can hold. If she wants to keep holding her territory, then maybe she oughtta be giving me a little cut, in return for my protection. A two-way street, my favorite kind. Or do you think she's got too much pride to play ball?" he says, watching intently at the girl's response.


Melody nods slightly. Surely, she came without a plan, but with the way her brain works, which was a mile a minute, surely she could figure out something to sway her way. "You could do that, most certainly!" Rant pips up, sitting straight up in her chair. His imagery, it would bother the most normal person, but as far as Rant has seen, it was water off a ducks back. Until later, when the nightmares come. "You could also pick one of her girls up off of the street and beat them beyond recognition as a show that you're not to be messed with too. Or, you could possibly snap my neck three-sixty and send me back in pieces. But you got really nice carpetting here and cleaning my blood out of the fabric is a work and a half. Why, you might kill someone else and dirty the carpet again cause they didn' do a good job." And.. she starts giggling, one hand lifting to cover her mouth as caramel cheeks burn red, followed by the display of her nanites flashing purple and blues.

"We thank you for that really. Kicking back. You did us a favor, and I think that we shoul.. no. Not we, since Catwoman really didn't sanction this visit but I really do see it as me coming to repay you for all of the hard work that you've done. Sort of done. I'm sure a guy like you could just snap your fingers and stuff gets done, right? Right?"

She lifts the phone now, only needing to power it on, placing it within her lap as the screen flares to life. It seemingly scrolls and emits a series of beeps as her fingers lace together within her lap.

"I don't think she'll need your protection Sir. Just a little bit of space. Okay, a lot of space. I'm not threatening you or anything but this visit is to see where you stand. If I'm to properly build for her, I don't think I need your interference already more than it has to be. But I can offer you something that would greatly help you out on the personal side of things. It's sort of like the gift that keeps on giving, given that your girls are due for an overdose that would cause the dark one to possibly stroke out and die.." She looks at her now, a slight frown given. "I can give you something that'll keep them going until you're /really/ tired of them. Plus, not to mention, they are /so/ pretty! I would like to know where you got their outfits from, cause I'm sure once all of this is over a party at the Tin Roof is in order.."

Weirdo.


Rant pushes right up to the edge of the line and probably pushes her foot over a time or two. She's swayed from admitting that the Cat couldn't hold him off to borderline threat - and saying 'I'm not threatening you', in Harvey's experience, is sure sign of a threat. He lets her finish her chatter, though, watching the lights dance under her skin. He'd heard about those, although it was strange to see in person. Not that he could call anybody else strange, in the long run.

A sip of bourbon, a cock of his head. And then a flip of the coin, spinning in the air, gleaming silver to land in his palm. He gives a low shudder for a moment as he glances at it, the scarred head staring him down before he flicks his gaze back up to the girl. "You'd best be careful offering up your pretty little neck so casually girl. You've been spending too much time with your Mistress - there are some of us who don't mind popping a girl's vertebrae until they choke and die on their own spine," he says with a snarl, "Some of us even like it." There's a harsher tone to his voice, grittier, and the right side of his face seems less animated now, while his scars somehow grow more livid, the lipless side of his mouth jerking as it controls his enunciation.

"You think you can just walk in here and play mindgames with me? I'm not afraid of the whore who holds your leash - she may be able to shake her tits at the Bat and walk away clean, but I'll cut 'em off and hang 'em on my wall if she crosses me. I like things that come in pairs, if you ain't heard," he sneers.

"You got something to give me, you go ahead and give it, and I ain't gonna promise you a god damn thing, because if you don't, I'll send you back to her in a bodybag and she can bury you in kitty litter. Don't overestimate how much these bitches are worth to me - You can be sure they don't. Do you, Sam?" he says, and the albino girl turns her head and shows off the bruised handprint on her throat, the point of his thumb having nearly ruptured her larynx the night before for speaking out of turn. "Breaking them sometimes is part of the fun."

"But go ahead. Show me what you've got. Then I'll snap my fingers and we'll see what we'll see, little girl."


Sure, Rant knows she's pushing it. That's pretty much what she does. The only way that she could actually be killed is decapitation, yet so far no one has figured out that little tiddily bit just yet. YET. Two-Face just may know how it would work. He's the sadistic sort. Her eyes fix upon the coin as it flips, random images snapping through her brain as she pulls herself from the reverie. She /should/ be scared at this point, even while the threats fly. She's inclined to cry but she's long past that stage, in fact, she's fed up.

"I'm not playing mind games. If I wanted to play mind games I would. I could shut down the power to this place and bring on the cold, electricute everyone in this building to the point it kills you all. But I don't like to hurt people. I don't like being hurt. I don't like to be mean and I honestly think that honesty is the best policy."

She leans back now, letting out a sigh. "Truth is, I really don't get out much. I'm always in front of the computer. And I really don't want to mess this meeting up. I really don't have the people skills needed to form good business ventures at the /expanse/ of what I'm attempting to do, even though that this isn't really my first rodeo. So I really am sorry if I come off as a jack butt. You know? And for the record, Catwoman isn't a whore. She just steals stuff and is trying to run a business."

With that, she draws herself from her seat, making her way towards the door to open it, poking her head out long enough to drag a case into the middle of the room. It was done with a bit of effort, but once she was close to the mans chair, she plops it down upon it's side, then flicks it open.

"Okay. So, this is really just a demo. Me and some doctor dude that I helped rescue came up with a compound that'll take the edge off the pain or whatever. Sort of like a drug, but sort of not. Mixed with my nanites that are mainly set to heal any damage done to internal organs, it'll give them a continous buzz at least until the nanites themselves wear off. It's really hard to create a compound like this without my DNA, but just a little bit should actually keep your girls and whomever you employ who are in need of such happy and willing campers."

She pauses, then glances up towards him. "Plus, twenty thousand dollars of my own money. I save up a lot because I really don't want much. Though I am supposed to invest in an education but it's really hard to do when I got the worlds information at my fingertips."


Two-Face doesn't seem particularly fearful of the girl's threats, although he has no doubt she would attempt to follow through on them. For a moment. But even she admits, she doesn't like hurting people and, of course, that's the heart of it all. If you didn't commit, if you flinched even a little, you couldn't win. That's why a lot of 'em fell to the Batman - the pointy-eared asshole might be holier-than-thou, but, underneath it all, he enjoyed beating the living hell out of people, whatever reason justified it inside that belfry of his. Just like Harvey did.

And no, he didn't know Melody's secret off-switch - he'd just keep trying all the ones he knew until he found one that worked. Trial and error could be fun.

"You wanna do business with people like me, here's an early lesson: figure out when you're bein' goaded. Since you're defending your boss' rep, I know your loyalty runs to more'n money. I got you to tell me some of what you're capable of doing and I got you to tell me that you don't want to do it, which means you won't, which means that if I got up out of this chair and shoved my gun down your throat, I'd get to pull the trigger at least half a dozen times before you could do anything.'

He stands up as she brings in the case and, when she turns to explain it, he's leaning in, his bisected face just a few inches away, "And you should also know that some of us ain't a bit scared to die. That some of us may like money and pretty sluts and respect and territory and the right to rule, but, down deep, that ain't what we're about," he says. He leans back and flips his coin, snatching it from the air and holding it out, his hand so practiced that he can feel the scarred surface against his palm. Which means the head he shows her is clean.

"You have yourself a deal. You do have good luck, it seems. Because a part of me wanted to cut you in half and play around in your guts. But I gotta follow the rules. Rules say take the deal, so I take the deal." he says, sitting back in his chair.

"Delilah? Get your black ass up and let her test this shit on you."


Melody stops to listen once he gives out the little lesson, her expression blank, which if anyone who knows her knows that she was deep in thought. Processing the information like such, taking it all to heart and committing the words to memory.

"I don't know how to read social cues. I have a hard time telling when someones mad or upset, and sometimes when I do realize that someone is mad and upset, it just all starts to feel a little bit weird. And then I want hugs. At least I've read that hugs actually help to disarm people. I think it worked on Batman once. But then he told me to get off of him and I did."

Blank stare. "Plus I think if you asked me point blank I would have just told you the truth. I'm a really terrible liar. Plus I think if you shoved a gun in my throat I probably would have started crying. But I think you're the type who likes to see people cry. You don't seem like a nice person. Well, that one side of you." She gestures to the burnt part. "The other part is really subjective but he seems to lean more to the other side. You guys.." She smiles a little, then shakes her head.

"It seems like I only have good luck around you. I think there's like a time where I would be smart and stick to you, you know? Cause I know that I could go out and make something awesome happen. Though I think the luck comes with your decisions at the moment and not the surrounding factor." Babble, babble, babble..

As Delilah was called for, Melody takes out a vial of white liquid in a large beaker, setting it aside, as well as a large syringe. The large syringe was attached to a tube, in which the longest point (the needle) of the syringe is jammed right into the crook of Melody's arm. She squeezes her hand just enough for the tube to fill with enough blood, which was soon transferred to the beaker.

"I know you like looking the way you do or else someone would have came along to fix you. I don't thing we need to make you prettier than you already are, so I'm going to advise you to not take this for yourself. Okay?"


Two-Face teaches the girl another lesson, this one about silence, although he can already tell that one's the least likely to stick of them all. He doesn't really care about her reasons - whether she's rude, whether she's got some sort of social or mental disorder, whether she just didn't get her morning cup of coffee or the nanites in her blood made her behave strangely - none of it mattered to Two-Face. That's the great virtue and benefit of psychosis - the bigger picture no longer matters. He didn't need to make allowances for anyone else. Harvey Dent used to work hard to make the people around him comfortable - Two-Face no longer needs their approval.

He watches the drawing of blood with a shadowed gaze, the ruined side of his mouth twitching for a moment. At the last, he snorts. "I don't need fixing. I only show on the outside, now, what always existed inside. People think I've changed, but the truth that really frightens them? That I'm the same man I always was - I'm just more honest about it. Because it makes them realize that they never know what's going on behind someone else's pretty face. What monsters might lurk there," he says, lighting another pair of cigarettes as Delilah trots up obediently next to him, "I wonder what your monster is."


"I don't think you need fixing either. You look pretty cool to me." Melody said and proven that she wasn't a liar, she also had no filters. If the man was handsome with his burnt face then he was handsome with his burnt face. That's all there was to it. "My Dad says the same thing. But he uses much nicer terms, like.. the grass isn't always greener on the other side, ectera." Once the right amount of blood filters into the beaker, she pulls the tube free, then the syringe, dumping it back into the box. She takes a glass stirrer, mixing the chemicals together, holding it up to eye level as she soon glances up towards Harvey.

"I wonder what my monster is too."

Wordlessly, she places the beaker upon the ground, taking out a fresh needle/syringe, reaching out to gently take Delilah's arm to settle it into her lap. Melody looks rather comfortable for now, her fingers working deftly at Delilah's arm to bring the dark nerves forward, the syringe dipping into the solution in which a little bit is taken, and soon pushed into the womans arm.

"The solution should take a minute to work. But she'll probably be even more docile, I mean, docile enough to do undue harm to herself with just you asking. We tested this out on some guy who wanted in on the Alley Cats so he could betray Catwoman to the Italians, Keith told him to eat his own eye and he did it with a spoon."

With that, she smiles and looks up towards Harvey, releasing the womans arm so that she could do what she will. The beaker was soon sealed off, shaken a little bit more, and offered towards the mad-man as if she were offering a prized possession. "If anything, you can have fun with it."


Two-Face pours himself some more bourbon while Melody plays with her chemistry set, very much playing the role of the tolerant grown-up in his own bizarre way. When he settles in again, he watches the injection go in, piercing Delilah's almost night-black skin. Of the two, sh was the more vivacious, the more fierce of the two and, of course, the most likely to betray him or go south if the relationship soured. He hoped she'd last a bit longer, though. If he had to dispose of her, he had to dispose of Samantha - matching pair, after all. You don't keep one shoe when the heel breaks on the other, so the ladies said.

"If you ever want to know what your monster is, I can find it. I'm good at that sort of thing. And, unlike the Joker, I won't make you dress in a silly outfit and call me sugar when I do.""

Of course, getting in touch with your inner monster requires a lot of pain. His father had beaten him for years before scraping away the surface to find the beast inside his boy. He didn't think it would take years with Melody. He takes a moment and flips the coin again, looking down at it. And he smiles, a long wide grin, and pushes it back into his pocket.

"Fun. Yeah, fun." he simply says, leaning back in his chair and watching as he lets Melody use his girl as a guinea pig.


What Melody gave Delilah was a pumped up version of Heroine. Mingled with her blood, it took away the side effects that one would have with withdrawl. It also would leave the victim docile; eager enough to do anything for the person that tells her to, without worrying about the pain or psychological trauma that it would cause. Also, mingled in with the blood was nanites, nanites designed to last at least three days, which would give Melody quiet access into the inner workings of Harvey's operation. Something she didn't tell Two-Face, mostly because his line of questioning didn't steer her in that direction. She was a bad liar, yes. But that didn't mean she couldn't keep a secret.

Delilah slowly rolls back onto the ground, her movements fluid, like a dancer. She was already basking in the glow of the high, feeling herself just in that moment. Melody watched her carefully, and by watching? The nanites within her gave her a complete overview of the ceiling the woman stares at, and while Melody fixes the view to her liking, her gaze falls upon Harvey now, her expression blank.

"No thanks!" Is said with that all too peppy smile that only Melody could give. Injecting the woman with heroine was enough for today. It was going to bother her for some time to come. "I think whatever monster I have needs to be locked up tight, you know? Gotta keep a clear head, even though it seems foggy and all."

She lifts a hidden compartment of the case, pulling out the stacks of money she brought along with her, all legit bills, nothing needing to be traced. She really did save a lot; she was honest and hardworking. Those bills were soon gathered as she stands with a slight stagger, making her way to the bed to lay the money atop of it.

"You can count it if you want. I ain't got nothing to do at the moment. Though I am kind of hungry and wanted to stop and get a burger or something before I go back home. I can swing back here if you want something to eat."

As she speaks, she tucks away her items and closes the case, she was going to take it with her. Bad enough she gave out some of her blood.

"I'm going to Petes. Sure he specializes in Pizza but his burgers are fried in bacon grease. The stuff will kill you but oh man, it's delicious."


Two-Face looks at Delilah for a long moment, watching the strange, empty look in the girl's eyes. He draws on one of his cigarettes, blowing smoke through her nostrils like a bull blowing steam.

When she left, he'd bleed Delilah and send off a sample of her blood for analysis. He still has a few people in the old crimelab who owe him favors - CSIs who didn't mind a noseful of blow or needed a high school girl for their particular tastes. Two-Face owned people, part and parcel, and he'd find out at least some of what this girl had pumped into those veins. If they were even capable of detecting it which, quite possibly, they couldn't. Melody's nanites were beyond most of the realms of normal science - but if he could synthesize the drug offered, he wouldn't need Melody, Catwoman or a deal of any sort.

"I've already eaten," he says, "I do like a nice double cheeseburger on occasion. Maybe we'll have one together sometime," he says. She's got his attention now, poor thing. She wouldn't be the only one keeping track.


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