Want to see the past issues of Atlee and Charlie? Wondering, perhaps, what happened to Power Girl and her trip to Mars? Maybe you're curious about what Killer Frost was getting up to before she got tangled with the girls? Find all of that, and more, at the DC Mayhem Library!
“Bacooooooooon,” Charlie intoned blissfully, cracking her neck as she flipped the mess of the stuff she was currently cooking up. She was still in her pajamas, her silky red hair an absolute mess of tangles and faraway wisps. “Baconbaconbacon… wheeeeeeee….”
“Whuuuh… whut is thaaat…” the incoming voice was sleepy and confused, assaulted and intoxicated by the scent of fresh breakfast. Atlee staggered into the living room, one end of her borrowed nightshirt hitched up and tucked awkwardly into her underwear.
“This… is bacon.” Charlie turned slightly and offered a bright smile. She was still a little sleepy herself, but after the absurd amount of toast that the girls had eaten last night, it had become imperative that she make an actual breakfast to go along with it. Two fried egg sandwiches were already sitting on the warmer, and Charlie had started to make herself a bit more at home in her brand new apartment.
“…” Charlie said soulfully, her head slowly turning to face Atlee, whose bedhead was even worse than hers. “You don’t know what bacon is?”
“I thought you read my file,” the stratan said with a touch of sarcasm. “I’m not exactly… from here. Kara never really bought it, we usually ate cereal for breakfast… or toast, when she was in a hurry.”
“Then let me tell you… you are about to be really happy you met me.” Charlie slipped a few strips of belly-meat onto Atlee’s plate and slid it over onto the table. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she was good enough for this.
“It can’t be that good…” Atlee grumbled, rubbing her eyes and taking her seat. “Does smell nice though.” She reached forward and took her fork, spearing one of the strips of sizzling, dripping bacon and stuffing it into her mouth.
Her eyes widened.
A single tear rolled down Atlee’s cheek.
A single tear of joy.
“Cambo said he found it? You think this is really the place? Looks like nobody even lives here. No car or nothin’.” Chuckles grumbled, standing outside a fairly new Manhattan apartment. He had been lucky – some severe frostbite had taken his nose, most of his ears, and a few fingers, leaving his face blackened and dead in several areas. It was better than what had happened to Bozo, but he was just happy that he was still alive after losing the Heart of Ice. Killer Frost always… paid her debts.
Gouch scratched the back of his neck and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small map that had been drawn out with the Cobbletech Signature Reader. The texture of the map was grainy, the lines blurry and green, but he had followed it as closely as possible. Best he could tell, this had to be the place.
Chuckles sucked in a deep breath and reached into his pants, withdrawing a machine pistol and flipping the safety off. “If this skank is still in here, and she’s still got the Heart, then we’re gonna be in for a fight. Just don’t shoot me, alright? She’s gonna be… all over.” Gouch nodded resolutely and drew his own revolver (it was trusty, thing had never jammed on him, not once).
“Let’s rock, then,” Gouch said, narrowing his eyes. His oversized brown duster billowed out behind him as he kicked the door dramatically. His foot bounced harmlessly off the simple metal lock and he flew backwards, growling. “You got a credit card, Chuck?”
“Yeah, I think so—“ the other henchman began, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. Silhouetted in the doorway was a short-haired, teenaged girl wearing a long nightshirt, her deep violet eyes gleaming as she set her eyes on the weapons the two men were carrying.
“Ch—ah, Misfiiiit! I think we have company!”
“Ooh, really?” came a voice from inside the apartment. “Killer!”
“Crap, I know that voice!” Chuckles roared as his partner-in-mooking lifted himself back onto his feet. The scrawny henchman lifted his fully automatic handgun and aimed directly at Atlee – also known as the superheroine, Terra – and opened fire without discretion.
Imagine his shock when the dark-haired girl suddenly lifted her arms up to her shoulders, the pavement beneath him flipping upward faster than he could pull the trigger. The bullets sunk harmlessly into the crumbling concrete. Chuck’s eyes widened and he suddenly wheeled around, turning to run – he had no illusions of bravery or valor, and he was through working for Frost, if this was what he had to deal with. He’d move back to Gotham and try fighting heroes he might actually have a chance of shooting.
However, as he took his first step, he ran directly into Misfit’s fist.
“Score!” the redhead shouted as the mook went hurtling backwards onto the shredded sidewalk, before bouncing to the side of Gouch, who had aimed his gun at Terra.
“Whatcha gonna do with that?” Atlee said with a smirk, the floating chunks of concrete visually separating and forming into tiny spheres, just about the size of a bullet.
“Don’t… don’t make me… I don’t wanna kill no kids…!” Gouch shrieked, his voice wavering. One of the tiny nodes of rock hovered next to the barrel of his revolver, and Atlee casually flicked one of her fingers forward, lodging it into the gun.
The man frowned deeply and threw the gun down, holding his hands up. “What now? What do you do with me? Ya gonna kill me?” His voice was… desperate, to say the least. Working for Killer Frost thus far, he had faced off against villains, not heroes – failure was never an option.
“Err…” Atlee said, pausing and lowering her hands, glancing over to Misfit. The freckled girl was already dragging an unconscious Chuckles back into the apartment, and shrugged uncomfortably.
“I never really get this far. Usually tie ‘em up and leave them for the cops with some bruises and a thank-you note… unless I’m working for Babs, in which case I get tortured by Black Alice or used as a last resort. What do you do with them?”
“I don’t know! I’m a sidekick! And Peegee never really… um… well, dealt with henchmen. Or really many humans at all. So a lot of the time she just punched them and let everything sort itself out. I’ve never thought of this particular situation arising.”
Gouch arched a thick, fuzzy eyebrow, glancing back and forth between the two girls. “You do realize that as soon as we go missing, more will be coming for you. Ya took me out, fair and square, I can admit that… but at this point it’s in your best interest to hand over the Heart.”
Both teens snapped their heads to the side, facing the now-kneeling henchman. “The what?” Atlee chirped.
“The Heart of Ice. We know you have it, she knows you have it… just give it to me and everything will be fine, everything goes back to normal. You two never needed to get in the middle.” Gouch was desperate now. Maybe, just maybe, they would be naïve enough to go for it.
Atlee turned back to the other teen, arching a brow. “You have any idea what this goon’s talking about? Or is it some kind of gambit to stall us?”
“Well, I did get this, uh, thing, the other night…” Charlie replied, shuffling her feet awkwardly beneath her. “We should drag this goon inside. We gotta suit up and ask some questions.”
“My suit’s at home!” Atlee squeaked. Darnit, Peej told me to keep it under my clothes. Guess that’s what I get for not listening.
“Not a problem. Back in a flash – I’ll feed that smelly cat, too.”
“You’re the best.”
Terra and Misfit both folded their arms across their chests, fully suited up now and standing in front of the two thugs, both tied to chairs. They held the pose for an uncomfortably long time.
“Are they gonna ask us something, or…?” Chuckles began, wiggling his tongue down out of his mouth to tickle at the dried blood encrusted onto his lip.
“I think they’re just waiting for us to crack,” Gouch replied, arching a brow up at the two girls. “Seriously, what are you doing?”
“We’re, um… intimidating you,” Atlee tried.
“I think we should try punching them a little more,” Charlie whispered over to her new partner. “When the Birds of Prey intimidated people they always punched them.”
“I’m not big on punching though, I use rocks and stuff… and I don’t know if they can handle a punch from rocks.”
“Fine, I’ll do it.”
“Careful! You knocked the other one out when you hit him.”
“Yeah, I won’t hit him too hard,” Misfit took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes, leaning forward to glare at Gouch. “I’ma punch you. But, if you don’t want that, you can tell me who you’re working for and where they are. We aren’t gonna sit here like… sitting… ducks.”
Gouch’s face fell in an expression of resigned distaste. “Look, I’m a reasonable man, and honestly I don’t even—“
Misfit lashed one fist outward, bonking her knuckles into the side of Gouch’s skull.
“Ow! What the hell? I was about to tell you!”
Atlee swatted Misfit’s shoulder with a frown.
“What? I thought he was being evasive.”
The unkempt henchman growled idly in his seat, glaring up at the two girls. “I’ll tell you who I work for, and where she is. But please, you don’t want to do this… you don’t want to go up against her. You guys… girls… you’re tough, I’m sure. But you’re not in her league.”
Terra stepped forward, leaning in and giving the two mooks an unintentional view of her cleavage. “Who? Who are you working for? Why does she want this ‘heart of ice’?”
“…We work for Killer Frost.”