-----

Author's Note: There isn't much action in this chapter but it sets up the next one kind of nicely. I'd like to thank djkauf for the wonderful editing and DC Comics for their characters.

-----

Chapter Two:

I cleaned up at the tables, as if there was any doubt.

I half walked, half stumbled out of the place. The only time I ever get really drunk is a bad game or when my life has fallen apart. Which means I’ve only been shit faced twice in my life? The first time being in my senior year of high school. Some son of a bitch linebacker hit me from behind. I landed on my arm, luckily nothing got broken. But the coach pulled me anyway because he couldn’t take the chance. They put in the fresh faced Junior second string to replace me. He blew the game big time; they actually booed the poor guy off the field. Me and a couple of the guys bribed my twenty-one year cousin to buy us a couple of six packs and we drowned our sorrow in Budweiser.

The second time I got hammered was a dark day in my life. My mother was driving home late one night and because it was a double---she works as a nurse part time----she was a bit tired. She swerved a bit and some jackass slammed into her. Her car flipped over and hit a telephone pole. Luckily, she survived but she ended up in the hospital with two broken legs, a couple of broken ribs and a concussion. The jerk who hit her only got a few bumps and bruises. I went out and got seriously drunk. That was last year. Mom’s still not one hundred percent but she’s doing better all the time. She’s the reason I started gambling, I needed to help pay her bills. She didn’t approve, of course, but she didn’t turn down the money either.

But tonight I was so drunk I could barely stand. Luckily, I didn’t have to work or else the boss would fire my ass. In case you’re wondering, I work in the Field Museum. It’s nothing fancy though. I’m a security guard. Most of the time I work the day shift but every once and a while I get screwed and end up on nights. Sometimes I take them to make some extra cash. Tonight was my day off. The boss usually gave me game days off, if not, he said I was “unfocused”. Who am I to argue with that?

I was so drunk tonight I could barely walk to the curb. But I managed somehow. I squinted, wondering if it was wise to try to walk home. I only lived a few blocks away. I usually took the Express to campus. Rick and I were roommates. We tried the whole dorm thing the first year but it was kind of a drag. So we both got jobs---he works as a teller in a bank---and decided to get a place of our own. It’s a modest two bedroom, big enough for two wild guys like ourselves. We respected each other’s space, too. Whenever I had a lady friend over, Rick was always nice enough to bail for a couple of hours. I did the same when his family dropped by. I liked his Mom well enough but his Dad was a Michigan State alum so I avoided him. With him it was always Spartans this and Spartans that. He didn’t care that I was the Booster.

I hailed a cab. It didn’t take long for one of the yellow cars to pull up to the curb. The driver gave a once over as I opened the door and stumbled inside.

“Lakeshore Drive” I slurred as I closed the door.

“If you throw up in my cab I’ll dump you on the curb.”

I waved him on. The Cabbie groaned and took off.

Rick and I made enough to live a little better than most college students. His parents chipped in too so we were able to score a place in The Tides, a tower apartment complex right on the lake. It’s really cool because it’s within walking distance to both our jobs and a bus stop that can take us to work and school. I know what you’re thinking, Lakeshore is far from campus but thirty minutes on the Purple Line isn’t too bad. A lot of students live in Evanston but Rick and I wanted to live in the city because there’s a lot more action here. If it meant taking a train to and from school, we were ok with that.

It only took a couple of minutes to get home. I paid the Cabbie; he mumbled something in Spanish and took off. I stumbled across the sidewalk to the front door. The Tides was huge, a giant gleaming building of metal and glass. I know it’s kind of swanky and it costs a pretty penny at almost three thousand a month but it was so worth it. We had a great view of the city and let’s face it; Rick’s folks are loaded. His Dad was an Illinois State Senator and his Mom a doctor. They only had one kid too, Rick. I guess he’s their pride and joy. His parents weren’t too happy about me moving in with him but Rick convinced them I was an up and up kind of guy. Besides, as I said, Rick and I chip in on the rent. Together we pay about fifteen hundred while his Dad does the rest.

I stumbled through the front door and the lobby. Everything was kind of a blur. I think I remember getting in the elevator and pushing the button for our floor. But the next thing I remember is falling face first through our apartment door.

“Mike, Jesus.”

I felt hands around my arms, lifting me up. I can make out a blurry figure, I think it’s Rick.

“You wouldn’t believe the night I had,” I slurred as he dragged me toward the bathroom.

“I bet,” he said, stripping off my jacket and jersey. “Did you score with the red head?”

I shook my head. “She blew me off.”

He smiled. “I like her already.”

I ignored the comment as he took off my belt and pulled my jeans to my ankles. I would have been pissed if any other guy did this to me but Rick and me are tight. I know he’s not queer. Besides, I trusted him. He dragged me over to my shower---I was now clad in my boxers---then he tossed me in. He turned it on full blast and when the cold water hit me, I screamed like a girl. Hey it was freezing. He left me there, sitting at the bottom of the shower. It helped a lot. I crawled out after ten minutes and threw up in the toilet.

Then everything went black.

____________________________

When I woke up my head was pounding. It felt like I was back in high school and someone threw a ball at my head. That actually happened by the way. The Son of bitch got suspended and I ended missing PE for the day. The bastard thought he was justified too, all because I might have slept with his girlfriend. Which was preposterous because I never slept with her, it was a little petting and some fondling under the clothes. Harmless, really. But that has nothing to do with the situation now. Now my head felt like someone was banging on, possibly from both inside and out.

I groaned and sat up, wondering how I got into my bed. I threw off my covers, dressed only in my boxers. The sun was shining through my large window, too bright for my hung over eyes. I squinted and shielded my face, looking away. Last night was kind of fuzzy. I remembered Lenny’s; then striking out and there was something about the billiards. I rubbed my temples. Oh God, I pissed off Henry Ballard. My heart started beating faster in my chest and my hands started to get sweaty. It was thing to win a lot of money at the tables---ok, so a couple thousand wasn’t a lot but it was more than I went in with---but it was another thing to piss off a powerful man like Ballard.

And I owe him one hundred grand or else my football career is over.

I felt the bile begin to rise and ran into my on suite bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before I threw up. I groaned and wandered over to the sink. I splashed water into my face and took a complete of deep, reassuring breaths. Looking in the mirror, there was a handsome Adonis staring back at me. I prided myself on my good looks; they complemented the rest of me really well. I stared at my wonderful self for a while. I truly was good looking. I had my mother’s golden locks---cut to perfection---and my father’s sparkling blue eyes. A couple of days ago I was at the tanning salon down the street so my skin was nice and bronzed. I smiled and peeled off my shirt, looking at my pecs. They were perfect too. I could bounce a quarter off my abs.

I finally tore myself away and went back into my bedroom. Everything about this place was white but very modern looking. Most of the apartments in The Tides were like this. We rented it fully furnished, neither of us had the spare capital to decorate it properly. Though Rick’s parents fronted him, so we had cash to buy things like a TV and a stereo---all top of the line of course. The only thing in my room that wasn’t here before were my clothes. I wasn’t a clothes hound by any means but I liked to look good whenever possible. Now I know what you’re thinking and I hate to disappoint you but I’m not a designer kind of guy. I can’t afford it. I’m a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy, that is when I’m not out trolling.

I picked a pair of jeans off the floor, sniffed them and threw them on the bed. I did the same with a t-shirt; it smelled clean too. There was a pile of dirty clothes in the corner. I’d been too busy lately to get them washed but maybe I could toss them in with Rick’s stuff. I wandered out into the main room, looking to see where my wayward roommate was today. I looked at the clock on the wall and groaned, it was noon. Seeing that it was Sunday there was no school so Rick was probably at the library, studying like usual. He’s a real Egg Head when it comes to those things.

I wandered over to the bathroom and slipped inside, not bothering to lock the door because no one was home but me. I vaguely remember Rick throwing me in the shower last night. I think he stripped me down to my boxers to do it. I looked around the room and found a pile of my clothes on the floor. But my jersey wasn’t among them. Rick knew better than to leave that lying around. I stepped into the shower and turned on the water, allowing the hot blast to sooth my aching head. In the shower, I had time to think. Where in the hell was I going to get 100 grand? I didn’t know any rich people besides Rick and there was no way Senator Hunter was going to fork over that kind of cash. I had some money saved but it wasn’t nearly enough. I suppose I could go pro. There were some scouts already sniffing around me. But my mother would kill me if I threw away my college education.

I groaned. She made me major in History as a fall back in case my football career fell apart. I’m not an Egg Head like Rick but it was my best subject at school. I’m not saying I know everything but I know enough to get by if I need too. My mother is always like that, making sure all my bases are covered in case something bad happens. She didn’t want me to turn into my father. He was a ball player too. He tossed the pigskin around in high school but never made it to college. He tried for a minor league team but blew out his knee. My father was never the same after that. He took a job driving trucks and fell into gambling hard. But like I’ve said before he was one hell of a card player. He just didn’t know when to quit.

I shut off the water and stepped out of the shower. I grabbed a nearby towel and went back into my room. I got a clean pair of boxers, stepped into them and then put on my jeans. I looked at the clock on the wall. It was about twelve thirty now, I had a little time to kill before I needed to be anywhere. We had practice today, it usually lasted a couple of hours. Then I had some time to loaf around before I had to make my way back home and off to work. On Sundays, I get the long shift because I’m the rookie. I usually work from about eight at night to about two in the morning. Then the morning guard comes in to relieve me. I usually manage a couple of z’s before I have to hit class on Mondays. It’s kind of hectic but when you get paid like twelve dollars an hour, it’s worth it.

I finished getting dressed and wandered back into the main room. I walked toward the sofa just as the phone rang. I groaned. I wasn’t in the mood to pick up so I let the machine get it.

“Michael, it’s your mother. I’m calling to let you know that your cousin Daniel is in town and wants to know if you two want to do something.”

I groaned. Daniel was the son of my mother’s sister. He was a year younger than me. He was an ok guy but he was kind of annoying. He hero worshiped me big time, which was cool except he hung on me like a leech. I didn’t mind hanging with him when I was home but out here would be catastrophic. I smiled; maybe I can pawn him off on Rick. The two of them met once, they got along all right.

The machine beeped, telling me the message was recorded.

I thought about calling her back until my stomach grumbled. I couldn’t remember the last time I had anything to eat.

______________________________

Sal’s is a little diner just down the street that Rick and I often eat at. We’re usually in and out because we’re both in a hurry to get to the train. But today as I walked down the street toward it, I was able to take my time. When I went inside, it was pretty deserted, which is strange, seeing as it was the lunchtime rush. The diner itself looks like an old Fifties diner, with revolving stools and cushioned booths. The waitresses wear bubble gum pink uniforms and Sal is usually dressed like a soda jerk. This is also the only place I know that serves Malts. When I walked in---the bell above the door announcing my presence---Sal smiles.

“Hey Mikey, was wondering when you’d get up.”

I wandered over to the counter, sitting next to the red head there. I paid her little attention at first.

“Sal, you a mind reader of something?”

He smiled. “Nah, Rip was in here earlier.”

In case you’re wondering, everyone calls Rick “Rip” except me. I’m not even sure what it means but he tells everyone to call him that. I tried for a bit but it didn’t really work. Besides there’s no way I can be like everyone else. I am Mike Carter after all, the One and Only.

“Can I have a pop and some fries?”

He nodded, scribbling down the order. “Not very nutritious for a healthy guy like you.”

I shrugged. “I’m not in the mood for anything healthy today.”

The girl next to me snorted. I turned to her, ready with a come back but stopped as soon as I saw her. My face lit up with a smile. It was the girl from Lenny’s last night. I barely recognized her because she was wearing a white blouse and gray skirt. Her hair was up on the top of her head and she was wearing a pair of wire framed glasses. She looked nothing like the chick from last night. Which was great because this whole Librarian look made her about ten times sexier?

“Well, if it isn’t Bea”

She sighed. “That’s Miss Too Good For You.”

Sal laughed. “Stay away from this one, Bea, he blows through women as fast as he throws touchdowns.”

I ignored Sal as he set my drink on the counter in front of me. I looked Bea up and down. “I’m liking the whole school teacher look you’re rocking today. Was last night Let Your Hair Down Day.”

She huffed and turned to me. “If you must know I was waiting for someone last night before you so rudely butted in.”

I smiled, showing her my pearly whites. “Today, unlike you, I have to work.”

“Hey I work too.”

Sal dropped my fries in front of me. “Mr. Star here works at the Field up the street.”

Bea looked me up and down. “For some reason I can’t see you leading tours.”

“I’m a guard.”

She nodded. “That explains it then.”

I feigned being hurt. “What do you do all dressed up like besides crushing men’s balls in your bare hands.”

“She’s a big wig,” said Sal, sounding impressed. “Miss De Costa here works for Wayne Enterprises.”

Now I was impressed. Wayne owned the other half of Chicago, his and Ballard’s property sort of met in the middle. There was a notorious turf war going on there. It was the headline in the papers for the last few months. Well it was until a certain Giant superhero started making waves. Now the only thing that the papers seemed to want to talk about was Giganta and her super powered pals. Not that I was envious or anything.

“I’m not all that important Sal, I answer phones.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” said Sal “today you’re a receptionist but tomorrow who knows.”

“Hey take me for example,” I said, drawing the conversation back to yours truly. “In high school I was fourth string then because of a series of accidents, I was bumped up the totem pole and now look where I am.”

Bea rolled her eyes. “Typical” she said then picked up her cup of coffee, downing the rest of the contents. “It was a lovely lunch Sal; give my regards to your wife.”

She stood up, straightened her skirt and headed for the door.

“Hey Sal, can you box those fries for me. Ok thanks.”

She was half way down the street by the time I got my spiel down and was out the door to follow her. She moved pretty fast for a chick in heels. I caught up to her though and slipped in front of her. She didn’t look too happy but how could she not be, after all she was walking with me.

“You forgot to give me your number.”

“No I didn’t.”

I nodded. “An oversight I’m sure.” I reached into my coat pocket and took out the felt tip marker I kept there, in case anyone wanted the Booster’s autograph. “Here, babe. Write it down on my hand.”

I held out the pen to her but she brushed it aside. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I know.”

What the hell is this chick’s problem? Usually girls were throwing themselves at me. This girl just didn’t seem to get it, did she. I was Mike Carter; I was going to be super famous one day. She was gorgeous, there was no way I could let this one get away.

She walked a little faster, slipping by me. I groaned and walked in front of her again, walking backwards so I could continue to stare at this beauty. I continued to walk in front of her, putting up the best offense possible. But her defense was amazing. She even zipped and zagged like a pro. How in the hell did she even get dates if she played hard to get all the time.

“Are you going to leave me alone?” she huffed, trying once and failing to get by me.

“Only if you give me your number.”

She sighed, snatching the pen out of my hand. She didn’t scribble on my hand though like most girls. Instead, she reached into her purse and took out a white business card. She flipped it over, scribbled on the back and handed to me. I looked at the front first. There was a giant black W on it, her name: Beatrix De Costa below that. In tiny letters below, it said Public Relations. I smiled and flipped it over: 555-6392 Here’s my number, now get lost.

“Can I call you later tonight?”

She sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“Why did you give me your number if you don’t want me to call?”

She groaned. I smiled. This was my favorite part of the game. Women like her were rare. They were real pretty but they didn’t want to be asked out. It was like they were scared of men or something. Which was strange because she was all sexed out in Lenny’s last night? If she dint’ want to pick up men then what was she doing in a Sports Bar?

She walked to the curb, sticking her arm out to hail a cab. “I’m late for work.”

I held my arm out too. “Who works on a Sunday?”

“Wayne Enterprises never closes.”

“That must suck.”

“I like my work” she said as a cab pulled up in front of her. She opened the door and turned to me. “You’re not going to follow me to work and bother the hell out me, are you?”

I smiled. “I wish I could but I’ve got practice today. But I will call you later, that I can promise you.”

“I can hardly wait.”

She hopped into the cab and slammed the door. I watched as the cab drove off and sighed. She was definitely into me; I just had to convince her of it.

___________________________________

Off Season sucks. Its bad enough that the Coach busted our asses off in the fall but now he's got us doing the same thing in the spring too. Its madness. I think he's probably the only one who works his guys this hard. It was Off Season for Christ's sake and yet he still treated it like there was a game tomorrow. He really needed to lighten up a bit.

“Carter, you’re late.”

“Sorry Coach, I got caught up”.

I ran onto the practice field, the Coach put a hand on my chest. I’d only been a few minutes late but it wasn’t my fault. There was an accident and they weren’t letting people through. So I had to take the long way around to the train depot. It kind of sucked but at least I got here in time to change. It’s not my fault everyone else was finishing up as soon as I got into the locker room.

“Save it, Carter, I don’t care what her name was.” I groaned, he always thought it was a girl. “You’re on the bleachers.”

I nodded and ran toward the bleaches. The last time I ran them, I twisted my ankle because some jackass spilled water all over them. It put me out of three games last year. I’d never seen the Coach more mad in my entire time here. Not that that’s saying much. But when he told you to run the bleachers there was no arguing with him. So I took to the bleachers. I stretched before I started up them and scanned the metal benches, looking for any sign of liquid. When I didn’t see any, then I started my run. It was actually a lot easier than what they were doing on the field at the moment. I was never one for scrimmage drills. I’m the quarterback after all; I just need to throw the ball down the field. But I wouldn’t dare tell the Coach that, he’d have kittens.

I ran up down the first set and then moved on to the second. I was making good time, pacing myself. That’s when I saw him. I didn’t think anything of it at first. There were a lot of spectators that came to watch us practice. But as I got closer to him, I realized he looked real familiar. It wasn’t until I got closer that I realized where I’d seen him from. I stopped dead in my tracks as he stood up. It was the giant black guy, the one from Billiards last night. My heart was pounding like a drum. I took a step back. What the hell did he want?

“This doesn’t look like you’re getting Mr. Ballard’s money to me,” he said, his voice cold and threatening.

“No, this is practice.”

He took a step down the row, his stride covered the distance to me in seconds. He placed one of his huge hands on my shoulders. I tried to pull away but he socked me in the stomach. It felt like someone hit with a sack of bricks. I doubled up, coughing in pain. My rock hard abs were nothing compared to what he’d just done to me. I stumbled back as he took his hand off my shoulder. Then he guided me down, sitting me on the nearest bench.

“Don’t smart mouth me kid” he said, then threw a flyer at me. “We’ll make this real simple. Currently at that museum you work at there’s an exhibit displaying some of the world’s most precious jewels. One of them alone is worth one hundred easy. All you got to do is use your charm and swipe one for us. After that you’re in the clear.”

My eyes bulged out of my head. “Are you out of your damn mind? Do you know how security they have at that place?”

This guy was fucking crazy.

He smiled, showing lots of gold teeth. “You see the thing is, we know all about the security. In fact, we know a lot of things. Especially about your mother in Buffalo. She’s a sweet woman; you wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, would you?”

My anger flared. I gripped my hands into fists at my sides and jumped to my feet. Beneath me, the metal bleaches started to rattle for a second. The big guy looked scared for a split second but it disappeared quickly. “You leave my mother out of this. I’ll get you one of those stones. If anything happens to her, so help me God…”

I pointed my finger threateningly at his chest. He batted it away.

“Watch where you’re putting that thing boy, it might get broken.”

“CARTER!” Coach’s voice echoed up the bleachers toward us. “That doesn’t look like running. You can talk with your friends later. I WANT YOUR ASS MOVING NOW!”

The big guy smiled. “Mr. Ballard will be waiting at this address” He handed me a business card. “You have until midnight tomorrow, if you don’t bring us something, then I’m afraid your mother might have an accident.”

I clutched the card in my hand. What kind of lowlife scum threatens a woman still recovering from an accident. The big guy smirked and slowly walked away. I took my time to take a few deep breaths then turned back to the Coach. “Sorry Coach. Just talking about work.”

This was going to break my mother’s heart but there was no other way. I’m sorry, Mom. I took a deep breath and started running again.