Note: This story takes place after the last episodes of the Batman: Beyond TV series (a two parter called "The Call") and the recent Return of the Joker movie. I'll make an effort not to reveal any spoiler material from either for the benefit of those who havn't seen them. Hope you enjoy the ride!

"Wings"

Guest Written By Clay Arceneaux

The chill of the late night air fills his lungs as the black clad adventurer leaps down from his lofty perch toward the darkened street below and his intended target. He watches through an enhanced, long-range lens as he plummets, the large menacing figure hulking slowly towards a cowering and cornered woman, her pleas for him to leave her alone unheeded. He resolves that her cries for help will not. Not tonight, not in his city. A split second before the hero should hit the ground, great red wings extend from under each of his arms, changing his dive into a swooping arc. He punctuates the arc with a full-force kick into the woman's would-be assailant, knocking the man off his feet. As the opponent staggers back, the hero lets his arc continue into a full loop, and lands between the startled woman and her now dazed attacker.

"Wha… Who…" The woman stammers as she stares at her savior in the dim light. The wings disappeared when he landed, leaving only the dark silhouette of a man, a man with what looks like two pointy ears on the sides of his head. She had heard about him, seen some grid-vid here and there, but she never expected to see him in person.

Recovering from the hero's kick, the big "man" rises to his feet, a snarl coming from his elongated face. His skin is wrinkly gray, his whole body massive, but the one thing that stands out the most about this "man" is the six inch horn growing from the top of his elongated nose.

"You picked the wrong guy to mess with tonight, Bat-freak!" the Rhino-man shouts as he rubs his jaw.

"Funny," The Batman replies in a cold dry tone. "I was just going to say the same thing."

The rhino-man charges, intending to land a powerful right fist into the Dark Knight. The slender Bat easily blocks the clumsy blow and holds the man-thing's hand suspended in mid-swing. Batman allows himself a small smile as he stares into his opponent's surprised eyes. Another giant twip that confuses size with power. Seizing the moment of hesitation, Batman drives his free hand hard into the rhino's massive body, lifting the gray skinned behemoth off the ground as he does so. Twice more he repeats the blows, each one a little harder. Then he flings the massive man-thing across the street into a wall.

Dazed but undaunted, the rhino-man rises to his feet again. This time, when he charges, the rhino-man lowers his head and rushes forward like the creature he resembles. Leaping to intercept, Batman unleashes a devastating combination of mid air kicks, pummeling the man-beast to the pavement. With a leaping back flip, Batman disengages from his foe to land in front of the woman again. What's with this bim? I thought she'd have faded by now. When the beast-man rises this time, Batman fires a pair of bolos from his gauntlets, wrapping the rhino-thing in titanium alloy wires. The rhino-man falls back to the pavement again, making only token efforts to escape his bonds.

The sound of a siren approaches, GCPD finally becoming aware of the disturbance. Not feeling like another long chat with the black-and-whites, Batman ignites his boot jets, extends his wings and takes to the sky.

That felt good. The young man under the cowl thinks to himself. After everything that's happened the last few weeks, it was nice to get back to stopping a nice simple mugging. At least, I think that was a mugging... Hell, if a woman was being menaced by an oversized splicer, it was a mugging or the guy was hornier than he looked. And he was jacked enough that I could cut loose a little bit and not worry about killing him. No psycho super clowns, no one-eyed brain-draining starfish. Yeah that one was a nice note to end tonight's patrol on.

The cool air of the cave fills his lungs as the hatch of the Batmobile hisses open. It was different from the air in the city, not stale like you'd expect, just… darker, heavier, like the rest of the ancient Bat-cave, it carried the weight of their solemn crusade. As with the last few nights, Bruce was not there waiting for him. The old man's absence weighed heavy on the young Batman's mind.

Bruce Wayne had been the original Batman from long decades ago, the infamous defender of Gotham city and member of the renowned Justice League of America. But that was a lifetime ago. For the better part of two years now, Terry McGinnis has served as the city's Dark Night Defender, and maybe he would take his mentor's place among the JLA's successors, the Justice League Unlimited. (A part of him still couldn't believe they offered him a seat at their table.)

But mere days ago, Terry faced off against Bruce's worst nightmare, the original Joker reborn. Though, as in the old days, the good guys had won, it was a costly victory. Most directly, it had been a strain on Bruce's health. Between recovering from those events and Bruce's insistence that he return to running Wayne Enterprises, the old man had not been up to monitoring Terry's patrols through the linkups from his bat-suit to the powerful main frames beneath Bruce's family home. On the one hand, it meant Bruce trusted Terry enough to assume the role on his own, which made Terry feel that much more confident he finally had earned the mantle of Batman. On the other hand, Terry knew how much they had both come to enjoy working together these past two years, and missed Bruce's measured, reassuring tone feeding him information and tactical advice over their radio link. And he was just plain worried about the old man's health.

Sighing deeply, Terry changes back into his street clothes, tucking most of his costume it into his backpack. The cowl he plugs into the main bat-computer to download a video log of the night's activities. Grabbing the spare cowl on his way out of the cave, Terry heads up the stairs and into the manor. He stops only to pat Ace on the head and peek in on Mr. Wayne to make sure the old man was indeed sleeping before heading for his waiting motorcycle and the long ride home. Tomorrow was going to be another day of desperately trying not to sleep through class, and hoping Max would come through with his homework for him (again).

Thankfully, the school day proves uneventful. Afterward Terry finds himself at Wayne Towers, checking in with his "boss" to make sure there is nothing he needs from his assistant. A pair of doctors are leaving Mr. Wayne's office as Terry enters.

"Is everything all right, sir?" Terry asks in his "employee" voice as he holds the doors open for the exiting doctors.

"Of course, Terry." Bruce smiles weakly. "They're just checking on me after my "fall" the other night. Close the door, would you?"

"Sure." Terry complies. But as soon as he secures the heavy doors; "So what's the word?"

"The word is weak." Bruce scowls. "It appears my encounter with Joker served to undo some of the progress my heart had made in the last few years. In fact, if it had not been for my recent bath in the Lazarus Pit, I would be dead right now."

"Huh, who'da thought you'd wind up owing your life to that sicko's plots?" Terry shakes his head. "What's the prognosis? I flying solo again tonight?"

"We'll see. They gave me some new medication; it's some of the new regenerative formula Wayne Bio-Medical has been developing. It's supposed to help strengthen the damaged tissues." Bruce stares at the pill bottle on his desk. "Not quite as effective as a Lazarus Pit, but it shouldn't drive me insane either. I reviewed your performance from yesterday. You did well."

This was the only part of Bruce's nocturnal absence he found he enjoyed, the talking about Terry's work as Batman without actually talking about it, lest someone walk in on them. "Thanks."

"I noticed in the paper that there was another splicer picked up last night. I'd hoped we'd seen the last of that kind when the Chimera Institute went out of business last year and that sort of genetic manipulation was made illegal." Bruce shifts his gaze to Terry. "But there seems to be a lot of them popping up again."

"Yeah, I noticed that too." Four previously unknown splicers in the past 3 weeks, Terry mentally adds. Which probably meant somebody in town was still doing the procedure on people. And if I hadn't been so distracted by clowns and Superman's offer, I would have realized that and been looking to shut the place down already.

"Well I'm sure Commissioner Gordon already has her people on it." Bruce smiles, noticing his protégé mentally kicking himself. "You're doing a good job, Terry. But you can't let things like setbacks and second job offers distract you from your primary role here. I'm not dying today, and I've told you that whatever you decide about that other offer is up to you. I found working with others could be quite rewarding at times, but only at times. But that's up to you."

"I understand, Mr. Wayne. Thanks." Terry nods. "I'll try harder. You need anything from me right now?"

"Yes." Bruce reaches for his cane at the desk's edge. "Help me gather up these disks and bring the car around. I'm going home. I can review these long-range financial forecasts from the manor as well as I can from here. Besides, I might be able to find that pattern that's been eluding you. Least I can do before these old bones force me to bed."

"You've got it, boss." Terry smiles.

Dusk falls on Gotham's gleaming techno-spires. As Terry flies the batmobile into the dimming sky, his thoughts turn not to the night's patrol, or following up on the leads into the new slipper source Bruce had dug out of the net for him, but to Dana. Ever since the night the Jokerz attacked them at Dana's favorite nightclub and Bruce was attacked at the mansion, Dana's father had forbidden Dana to see him. Not that this was in itself unusual, since Terry had a bad reputation and he knew Dana's dad didn't like him. What was disturbing was that this time Dana was actually listening to her father and avoiding him. They had been through so much because of Terry becoming Batman and Bruce refusing to let him tell her. Sure, his best friend Max knew, but she had figured it out on her own and Terry was convinced Bruce was still not happy about it. But Dana had been avoiding Max, too. Very un-schway any way you sliced it.

"Yeah, this is what I need, another distraction." Terry scowls as he rockets between the buildings. "Man, I hope I find a whole nest of those big rhino guys tonight, cause I really need to hit something… hard."

The Batmobile's police scanner relayed an incoming call. A gang fight between the T's and a group of Jokerz.

Jokerz. He had a lot hurt to give that bunch of imitators for all the grief they'd caused him. It was going to be a good night.

Within seconds he is zooming over the mini war that raged below. Triggering the release hatch, the Batman drops from the Batmobile into the thick of it. Both gangs start firing their weapons on the descending Bat, but he takes wing and easily evades their fire. He returns fire with batarangs from his gauntlets, disarming many of them, while sending the rest for cover. But as he swings around for a second pass at them, two of the T's catch his eye. They're carrying a heavy blaster, an old military anti-tank model. Before Batman can alter his course, they fire, catching him square in the back and sending him flying into the side of a building. As the Batman tumbles to the ground, the "T" tattooed gang takes it's second shot. Not at the Dark Knight, but at the building above him, sending a torrent of rubble pounding down on the black clad hero.

"Great, just great" Batman strains to lift himself out of the pile of twisted metal and broken concrete he finds himself in. The suit itself has absorbed much of the damage so far, but it has it's limits. If he didn't get out quickly those goons were going to test those limits. "I survive the Joker, Inque, Spellbinder, Three Face, even Mad Stan. But who is going to take me out? A couple of punks with big red T's on their faces if I don't…Aargh!!"

The third shot would have taken Batman's head off had the Dark Knight not quickly pulled a large hunk of debris into the line of fire. Still, he needs to get more than his shoulders free and quickly. The two T's pause, but only because it takes the antiquated weapon a few seconds between each shot to build a new charge. The two men strain under the weight of the gun, one tightly hanging on to the gun itself, the other wearing the power supply on his bowing back. Impatiently, they watch the slowly building power gauge. Other T's and even a few Jokerz are returning to the scene, eager to watch someone finally waste the Bat. For his part, Batman strains his suit-enhanced muscles against the debris that pinned his legs. With tremendous effort he rises to his knees. But before he could make the final push to free himself, a T smashes him across the back of the head with a metal pipe, which is just enough to send Batman and the shifting rubble back down to the ground.

"Get clear, boys! This baby's ready to go!" The T gunner crows. "Time to say good night, Bats!"

"Good Night, Bats," A voice speaks from thin air. The voice is punctuated by a whirling razor weapon, which zips into view and slices through the cable connecting the heavy blaster to its power supply. The weapon's charge erupts from the severed line knocking both T's into a moaning world of hurt.

The other assembled gang members stare around in confusion for a moment, not sure of what just happened. The big T with the pipe looks around for something to hit. Without warning the pipe is snatched from his bewildered grasp by a pair of unseen hands, which then drive the weapon into the T's midsection, then across his jaw, sending him unconscious to the pavement. A sleek, black clad figure fades into view, still holding the pipe. With a snarl, a Joker rushes the hero, who deftly flings the pipe so its spinning motion trips the Joker and he hits the pavement hard. Other members of both gangs decide to try their luck. If the black clad hero notes the irony of these to bitter rival gangs working together, the hero makes no sign of it.

"I'll give you dregs one chance to surrender now." The hero smiles broadly. "Otherwise I hope you've got the creds to cover the dental work."

Almost as one, the gang members attack from all sides, some with knives, some with clubs, or chains, or rubber chickens, or whatever makes a handy weapon. The hero becomes a blur of motion, smoothly blocking or evading the clumsy assaults and retaliating with a wicked series of punches and kicks. Bolos fly from the hero's gauntlets, wrapping tightly around the few assailants that aren't outright incapacitated. In a matter of seconds, the fight is over.

Batman stares dumbfounded at his rescuer, his legs still pinned beneath the rubble. With effort, he begins to rise again. The strange hero walks over, grips the largest piece of debris and quietly helps free the trapped Dark Knight.

"Thanks." Batman warily gets to his feet while checking out his rescuer. Their costumes are remarkably similar in appearance. Both are mostly black, no exposed skin, a face worked into the mask. But where Batman had a large red bat across his chest, his rescuer had a large night blue bird, a bird whose wings stretched into a pair of blue lines that ran down each shoulder. A terribly familiar looking blue bird.

Of course, the fact that his rescuer was a woman also helps to tell the two apart.

"No problem. You looked like you could use the help." The woman continues to smile slyly. "Those T's got the drop on you tonight, eh, kid? Your suit was looking sluggish out there. Maybe you should give its power cells a proper recharge between patrols. That should help quite a bit."

Batman could do little more than stare. "Lady, who are you?!?"

"You haven't figured that part out yourself? And here I thought you were being trained by the world's greatest detective." As the woman sighs playfully the sounds of approaching police cars fill the air. "Oh well, that sounds like Babs' boys are finally going to put in an appearance." She raises her arms and great blue wings sprout under each of them. With a blast from her boot jets, the black clad heroine takes to the sky. "Tell the Commissioner Nightwing says 'hello'. See you soon, kid."

With that, she reactivates her cloaking field and fades from site, leaving behind a very confused Batman.