Chapter 8: Black Who?

Jack quickly got into a routine of sorts.

Wake up. Brush teeth. Shower. Dress up. Breakfast. Walk outside to explore the neighborhood or buy some things that are missing around in the hideout. Return to said hideout to suit up for work. Get to work. Deliver pizzas. Complete a 100% delivery rate.

Make bank. Rinse and repeat.

Tis was the grind.

Surprisingly, he was indeed making bank for someone who was delivering pizzas. On average, the young rogue ended up making 200$ at the end of his night shift, commission fees and tips included. That was 1000$ a week. In 2011. Which admittedly, he knew was really not bad.

Back home, when he was looking at his supe’s future prospects, deciding whether to sign up for the government or go ‘entrepreneur’, aka solo; one of the biggest deciding factors that influenced his choice and titled the balance was the salary.

Because he was a minor at the time, and he would have to work part-time for a government-sponsored team, meaning the usual minimum wage. It translated to getting paid less than 200$ per week.

Of course, there were other advantages. Health and dental insurance were 100% covered for example, along with a solid retirement pension plan – not like supe tended to enjoy these – and some funds put aside for a College or University of his choice.

However, a 16-year-old Jack, having done extensive research on the subject, believed that he knew better than his parents on the subject. Because insurance? What for? He never got sick and thus wouldn't need it. Pension? He was 16! Why??? College funds? “I can make more money going the ‘entrepreneur’ route than slaving for the government.”

So in the end, he opted for going rogue in order to make a hell lot of money, get famous and get those big booty bitches.

While his reasoning was… euhh… suspect and less than good, Jack never truly regretted the decision.

Friday night, day for day, one week after his first night of the job, Jack was greeted by Lorenzo’s at the pizzeria front door while coming back from his first delivery run of the night. Waiting alongside his boss was a classic scooter.

The scooter was painted in red and white colors, with Lorenzo’s pizzeria logo sketched on the side of the pizza box. As far as scooters go, it was standard in appearance – a step-through frame, a seat, a transmission that shifted without the operator having to operate a clutch lever, and a platform for the rider to put his feet under. It was a transport vehicle that prioritized the method of operation and fuel economy over comfort.

“This is your new partner, a 1999 Honda Elite scooter. Single-cylinder, with 10,000 miles on the counter.” Lorenzo patted the top of the pizza box. “This beauty here has served me faithfully since the day I bought it. Resilient, dependable and maneuverable. Got some touch-up to the engine, a change of oil and frame, and now it’s as good as new to go back to service and raring for another dance.” He finished his presentation, crossing his hand over his chest and sending him a small satisfied smirk – Lorenzo’s smirking!

“So… what do you think?” Lorenzo questioned. “Is this good enough?”

Honestly, he would have appreciated it if the older man had given him the scooter at the start of his shift. This way, he would not have needed to make the deliveries on foot, roller skaters or not. But he guessed that he must have only received it now because else, it didn’t make sense for him to… hold on to it, just because.

‘No matter,’ As he could clearly see how much it meant to him to have his approval, instead of voicing his complaint, Jack instead opted to give him a solemn nod and a thumbs up.

“I’ll take it as this being good enough then,” Lorenzo humphed, suddenly going tsundere on him. And once the image got into his head, he couldn’t unsee the sight of him standing there in all his glory, hand crossed, tressed blonde mustache quivering and giving him a dirty look. “Right on time because I just got an express delivery for someone… special.” He said, trailing off toward the end with a small grimace.

“Someone special?” Jack couldn’t hide his curiosity as he further asked, “And an express delivery? Hmm, does this mean that if people pay enough for it, you'd prioritize delivering their order.” It was more a statement than a question.

Which Lorenzo confirmed with a nod, “Yes, I do. It's also a part of the service I offer. The pay for the commission fee isn’t the same either. As long as you can deliver the order within 30 minutes of taking off, you get triple the fee. 15$.”

Jack let out a low whistle. If he was ready and willing to pay this much for a single pizza to be delivered, this must mean that he was getting paid some good money on the delivery fee alone to make up for it.

“Okay, just tell me the address where I’m supposed to drop this pizza and it will be done.”

“Not so fast,” Lorenzo held up his hand. “I said that I just received the order, not that it was ready. It’s somewhere in Diamond District, practically on the other side of town and I still need to make the pizza. First, you got twelve orders to deliver in Crime Alley and The Bowery. Once you’re done, you can come back to make that delivery.”

“Seems good. Got it,” he replied, taking off his backpack and giving it to Lorenzo, who took it. Wheeling toward the scooter, Jack swept aside the side stand with his foot before sitting on the seat. A problem became quickly apparent though.“I need a change of shoes. Do you perhaps have a spare pair of shoes or boots…?” He asked sheepishly, making Lorenzo roll his eyes.

“I do. Wait a second. I’ll be back.” Lorenzo gruffly answered, going inside the pizzeria before returning sometime later with a pair of khaki military boots. “It might be a tight fit but it should suit you.” He said, offering him the boots. Jack quickly put them on, having already removed his roller skates in the meantime.

“Thanks, boss, I will be back in no time!” He chirped – hand twisting the throttle on the handlebar as he raved up the engine – before saluting. “Toodles~” And taking off.

“I already told you to stop calling me boss!” Lorenzo yelled over the sound of the engine at his retreating back as he started to speed off into the night. “Also, your parting word is goddamn cringe! You should stop saying it!”

Jack cackled, wind whistling behind him as he expertly drifted into the cracked asphalt road, leaving only a red streak for people watching him drive by.

With the help of his new scooter, which he dubbed [Sasha] after the primary minigun for the Heavy, Jack made each and every one of his deliveries in a record time – at least for his personal one – blasting through the streets of Crime Alley and The Bowery, and delivering to each and every last one of his clients.

Like always, it was another 100% delivery rate for him.

An hour later, after notifying Lorenzo that he was done with this round of deliveries, he went back to the pizzeria to pick up his third run of orders.

Lorenzo was waiting for him behind the counter, the pizzas already piled on top of it. It was before his shocked eyes, that he casually levitated the pizza boxes and strode outside with them trailing behind him.

Next time, he wouldn’t even bother with entering inside the pizzeria to take off the orders. Jack only did it now to show off a little as he never blatantly used his power while the pizzeria’s owner was there, despite the fact that Lorenzo knew from words in the grapevine that he was a ‘meta-human’.

Also, if some casual display of power could get him used to the fact that his delivery guy could levitate shits, the better it was for him. Especially later in the future when he’d do even more overt things.

After listing each delivery address on his GPS – the priority delivery on top of the pizza boxes written on a post-it note, highlighted with a green marker pen – Jack strapped the pizzas inside the pizza’s box compartment.

It seemed like he’d deliver to other neighborhoods outside of Gotham, Crime Alley, Burnley and The Bowery now that he has a scooter.

‘Good.’ He thought. It gave him the chance to see more of the city outside of these three decrepit neighborhoods.

Stepping onto the scooter, he drove off into the dimly lit streets toward his destination.

Diamond District.

Jack speeded off hard into the road, using a chamber to get an idea of the state of the traffic each time he was approaching a red light, before driving past them when he deemed it safe enough to do so, in order to make his delivery on time. To the honks, insults and curses of the other drivers.

It was a needed action, he told himself. Otherwise, he feared that he wouldn’t be able to make it on time and cash in that sweet, sweet 15$ commission fee.

In the end, he made it within the time limit, with 3 minutes to spar, skidding to a halt in front of a tall, dark and gloomy-looking building. The building was one of the tallest ones around, but not the tallest one in the entire district, looking to be only around twenty floors tall.

“Now, what’s next?” He muttered to himself under his breath as he opened a [chamber]. Immediately after, he picked up on every single thing and detail in his zone. The range of his [chamber] got expanded at some point in the middle of the week, going from roughly a 20 m radius to 30. Probably as a consequence of his extensive power usage these last weeks, and of the rigorous training regime he did early in the week.

Jack picked up a lot of things. People still working in offices even at as late of an hour as 9:00 pm, some couple fucking in a car parked a street down from here, and…

A feminine figure standing on top of the building that just happened to be his delivery drop-off point…

He had the sinking feeling that it was his client up there, waiting for him.

Taking off his walkie-talkie from his parka’s pocket, he initiated a call to Lorenzo.

“Come in Lorenzo.”

There was a brief bout of static noises before Lorenzo picked up the radio call.

“Yes, Lorenzo here, what’s the problem? Over.”

“I’m in front of the delivery address. But it’s an office building which seemed to be already closed. Nobody outside. Can you call the client to ask him or her to come to the front of the building? Over.”

“Copy that, on it. Out.”

The line was cut off and he began to wait for some kind of confirmation from Lorenzo’s part. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to climb the entire fucking building now that the client would be made aware of his position.

However, his prayers were for noth as two minutes later, Lorenzo called him back.

“You need to climb up there…” He paused, sounding embarrassed. “And meet your client to deliver her order… it’s her request. If you don’t feel capable, I will let her know. Just leave the pizza on the ground and go back to your other deliveries. I will be paid at a later date for the order so don’t worry about it. You will still receive your commission fee too.”

Jack pursed his lips in thought.

Before cursing under his breath, “Goddamn it, better be worth it.” 

He already made it all the way here, so why not meet her and climb up there? It’s only a twenty-floor tall building after all.

‘Only a twenty-tall building. An everyday delivery man can climb it without using stairs or the elevator.’ He sarcastically thought even as he gave his reply to Lorenzo. “Roger, on it. Out.”

He wasn’t in the mood to try and climb up such a tall building.

Luckily for him, while the set of double, heavy metal doors was closed, inside the building, there were numerous sets of key rings resting in the compartment drawer of some kind of room closet.

He levitated some trash from the streets before pulling them toward him even as he switched the trash with the different set of key rings.

Four sets of key rings appeared in front of him, lazily floating in the air, five feet from the ground. Unfortunately, none were labeled.

Jack let out a sigh. This was going to take a while.

It took him a whole five minutes to find the correct key that opened the front door entrance, and it took him another two minutes to climb up the staircase to the tallest floor – the rooftop, the electricity having been turned off, the elevator was essentially out of commission, forcing him to take up the stairs.

Pushing open the door – this one not being closed – Jack stepped out into the open night sky. It was late, he wasn’t sure how late exactly, but watching the shapes of the skyscrapers lit up the city beneath him, he could hazard a guess at the hour.

‘Probably no later than 10:00 pm now…’

He leisurely strolled along the edge of the building, hands tucked into the pockets of his red parka, pizza floating and trailing behind him. He feigned to not have noticed the figure stalking toward him and hugging the shadow of the building’s roof cover.

Jack took a look over the edge, at the city beneath and at the horizon. Even in the better district, a lot of the buildings appeared to be in a state of disrepair; more than he expected. And there was a lot more brightness. Again, more than he expected too, for the picture of the city he was mentally started to draw.

It wasn’t all bleak and gloom.

Looking on the horizon, he could see and hear the distinct sound of police sirens – ‘like usual,’ – over a dozen red and blue lights, tracing the city streets, each moving in a different direction. While in the sky, a distant spotlight shone a sparkling white against the dark clouds of Gotham with the symbol of a bat set in the middle.

The bat signal.’ Meaning that Batman was somewhere out there and busy it seemed like.

There also was the distant minute crack of gunfire nearby and the flash of an explosion. Seemingly coming from every direction, varying in distance and intensity, but always a near constant. The whole city sounded like a warzone even in the ‘supposedly’ better parts of town.

And there were less than five heroes to take care of this mayhem. Which was madness in his opinion. Back on his homeworld, the villains were outnumbered 2 to 1. Here, it seemed like the heroes were at least outnumbered 5 to 1.

Batman had to have his hands full already with just this part of the city. And it was said that he hadn’t set foot in Crime Alley in two months already now…

Even if he had a full hero team on hand, they would have to work nonstop just to keep things from falling further apart in the rest of the city.

‘Unless they tackle the problem at its source…’

Because there has to be something or someone that allowed so many crimes, corruption and anarchy to run rampant because either way, it wouldn’t make sense.

“Lorenzo’s new delivery man…” A feminine voice – low and alluring – spoke from his left behind him, interrupting his musing. Jack almost forgot the entire reason why he was here. “I was told that you cut-... hmmm~ quite the intimidating figure.” The voice tantalizingly drawled, giving him a once-over. “I can… see this. Took you long enough to get here. Did you have some performance issues…?”

Jack turned to face his special client of the night and have a proper look at her. He met the charming smile of a blonde-haired woman.

The first thing that struck him was how short and tiny she was. The blonde-haired and blue-eyed woman standing in front of him couldn’t be taller than 5’4” (1m62). Clad in a ridiculous attire consisting of a furred black jacket which was draped over a black leotard one piece – hugging her well-endowed chest and making her breasts suggestively swell and perk up – while tracing her curvy figure, from her toned stomach to her thin waist, to finally, her wide hips, flaring up from her sides and teasing the promise of a juicy, bouncy and perky bubble-butt. A fishnet stocking encompassing her short but toned and plump legs completed her ensemble.

She was goddamn hot and her whole presence radiated a loud assuredness hinting that she knew it.

‘A walking, talking and teasing PR nightmare. A hero has no business dressing like this…’ He noted.

And she wasn't bothering wearing a face mask or anything really, to cover her face and hide her identity.

Behind his helmet, Jack shamelessly gave her a complete look-over but not quite openly leering at her, even as his mind rushed to formulate an appropriate answer.

She was almost hot enough for him to immediately simp for her and forget how annoyed he was at the heroine for making him climb up here.

Almost.

It was with his groin aching, his dick twitching and standing at half-mast that he spoke, bulling through his horniness.

“Oh! Silly me!” He chirped, laughing airily. “Sorry, I must have forgotten to pack my jetpack when I left. It's not like I’d need it every day to fly over some buildings.”

The woman sniggered, lips curving up in amusement, “If you have a jetpack to fly around, why not use it instead of your scooter to make deliveries? It should be a lot faster to get around with it, hmmm?” She pointed out, sounding amused. “All I’m hearing is that you left behind a perfectly viable vehicle for unknown reasons and failed to plan ahead … This sounds a lot like a you problem— Hmmm~, is this what people call skills issues?” She raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow.

‘The nerve of this woman,’ Jack couldn’t believe her cheek. “Because the jetpack goes through fuel like the average reddit moderator goes through an all-you-can-eat buffet.” He deadpanned, answering cheek-for-cheek, tat-for-tat. “And dear customer, please, don't be obtuse and try to distract me from the fact that delivery guys aren’t expected to climb over 20 floors of a closed office building at night to deliver food.”

“Hmmm~, yes, true. Ordinary delivery men aren’t expected to,” Her eyes were filled with mirth as she quipped, “But you aren’t exactly an ordinary delivery man, yes?” She gestured with her head to the lone pizza floating slightly behind him.

“This is Gotham, what did you expect?” He replied, giving her a pointed look. Even with his helmet in the way, she was able to tell. “Just look at you for example. Some random, scantily clad woman literally standing on top of the highest floor of the tallest building around, wearing even less clothes than the average stripper – and that while out in such cold weather – is one of my clients of the night.” The fact that while her appearance was noteworthy – being a hero and what not – she was far from the oddest client he met said a lot of things about Gotham City and Gothamites.

His words managed to wipe the small smirk off her lips as she narrowed her eyes, giving him a tight-lip smile. “Careful,” she warned. “I don’t appreciate the insolence and disrespect.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jack said. From his voice – dripping with insincerity – it was clear that he was not at all sorry. “This is actually my first– no, second week on the job. So I’m rather new to all of this. Wasn’t I supposed to call you out on your attire? Do you prefer if I refer to you as Call Girl? Entertainment worker? Courtesan? Night’s lady? She-who-stalks on top of tall buildings?”

At this point, he was actively antagonizing her and couldn’t give less of a fuck.

‘She started it,’ he told himself.

The woman’s blue eyes flashed with animosity and even then, when told to her face that she dressed like a sex worker, she still strode forward, hips swinging from side to side, and lips curling upward maliciously – the woman who he suspected to be the hero known as Black Canary, cleared the small distance between them.

She stopped, less than an inch in front of him, and tilted her head up to stare at him.

“I prefer it if you call me by my name,” she sweetly said, his helmeted appearance reflected in her iris as she grabbed him by his collar spandex’s fabric and dragged his head down so that they were now meeting gazes and she no longer has to tilt her head up to do so. “Black Canary or Canary for short if you prefer. I also go by Nightingale in certain circles, but you probably already knew that.”

“Ahhh,” Jack exclaimed, mumbling. “So, you’re that kind of street performer.”

“You’re an interesting person. An interesting person with an interesting ability,” Black Canary smiled – a smile which was a little too wide, a little too wooden, too forced. “I’ve never met someone quite so quick-witted in terms of clever comebacks yet at the same time, so dim-witted that he can put both feet into his mouth and keeps running his mouth without knowing when to stop.”

“Thanks, I guess? At least, we both agree that I don’t have any skill issues in that department.” He lightly shrugged, continuing with the sass. Her smile became even more strained. “Also, can you step back a little? You’re kind of in my personal space and your breasts are now pressing against me… Which is kinda making me nervous.” He gestured with his head, making an effort to look uncomfortable, squirming on his feet.

“Afraid of some boobs now?” She teased.

“Yes!” And Jack readily admitted, feigning nervousness. “I didn’t consent for you to touch me. Were the role reversed, you would have already kneaded me in the groin miss, errr…. Nightingale…? Seriously, I can’t even call you that.” It took a huge amount of self-control for him to not slip and snicker. He was having way too much fun taking the piss on her. “Look, no offense, miss-... Black Canary… while I'm pretty sure that anyone else would take you up on the offer, I'm not interested in your service. I’m on the job right now. I just want to deliver my order, get paid – preferably in cash or debit – then go on my way to make other deliveries before returning home.”

“Offer? Service? What are you blabbering abou—Oh…” Black Canary paused, trailing off as she began rapidly blinking, her eyebrows creasing up, she scowled – a look of understanding rapidly dawning on her visage. “Y-you… you-… yo-you think that I’m proposing you to fuck me instead of p-paying for the pizza …?” She trembled, looking absolutely livid.

“Ummm… no? I thought you were hinting at me to go down on you…” Jack corrected, “If you must pay this way, I would rather get a blowjob…”

“Because this is so much better…” Black Canary's face reddened and she released her grip on you. “It clears things up.”

“Well… okay… this is awkward…” Behind the helmet, his grin was threatening to split his cheeks. “I mean… you’re gorgeous. Short, big-titty, blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman with a curvy figure and haughty expression. You’re literally the poster girl for the quintessential, stereotypically wealthy, privileged, and popular blonde girl. The high school queen bee. You’re a real sex magnet for every bullied man ever who at some point, was either the silent kid, unpopular kid or nerdy kid back in high school. Even better, you can be considered a short stack.” He genuinely praised her, letting some of his honest thoughts leak out. “I don’t know the rates around this part of town but I think a blowjob instead of sex, should be enough to cover for the pizza and delivery fees…”

“...” She looked stunned, gaping at him as she stood rooted on the spot, totally speechless.

Jack coughed, “Of course, all of this is only hypothetical. In the eventuality I’d accept going ahead with your advances, which I wouldn’t by the way, seeing as I’m on the job and need to return with Lorenzo’s pizza money.” Ever the comedian, he couldn’t stop once he was on a roll. “I only emitted the hypothesis for the sake of clearing up any lingering misunderstandings you may have that I thought you were hinting at sex as an alternative method of payment…”

“...”

Jack coughed once again, “Actually, I would really appreciate it if you don’t force the issue, and simply pay for the pizza in cash or debit. Also, can you really step back a little now? Give me more personal space, please?” He politely requested, “I don’t want to have to defend myself and hurt you…”

Black Canary sent him a scandalous look, looking more offended by the fact that he was saying that she was some defenseless girl he could easily beat or hurt than when he straight up told her that she was a baddie who was making bank.

“You think you’re funny,” she whispered, jaw clenching and unclenching. “Is this some kind of game to you?”

It was.

“I thought it was for you? What with the whole dominatrix thing you had going on, “ he quipped, no longer bothering to act oblivious, wanting to see just how much he could rile her up before she snapped. “You’re sending me mixed signals, miss. What did you want me to think when you just got into my face and harshly tugged me down…?”

“SON OF BITCH! I WASN'T FUCKING PROPOSING YOU FOR SEX!” She snapped, hissing. “Does Black Canary even sound like a stripper’s name to you!?”

She was making it too easy…

“Yes, yes. It does.” He ruthlessly told her. “It’s more an African-American type of name to be honest, but hey you do you.”

“...” For the second time tonight, she looked stunned, lost for words. Though this time, she wasn’t openly gaping at him. Just stuck dumbstruck with a look of pure loss.

He wasn’t even joking or exagerrating. Jack was pretty sure that somewhere, out there, there were at least a dozen strippers or call girls who went by the name of Canary, Black Canary – ‘probably someone cosplaying as her too’ – Nightingale or some other variations of the name.

This was part of the reason why he was having a hard time taking her seriously. Any government personnel worth his salt in charge of a hero’s PR, his supe’s name and costume design, would have pointed out the blatant connotation between the heroine's entire persona and a worker of the sex industry. Were it back home, neither her hero’s outfit nor name would have made the cut.

Jack shouldn’t, he knew that he absolutely shouldn’t underestimate someone based on appearance or name. However, it was hard not to when the woman concerned was dressed like the perfect caricature of a female hero drawn by a hentai artist. From all indications, the woman was a good heroine, really. Reliable, responsible, strong and dependable. A long-time hero who has proven herself and an excellent martial artist. Above all, she was a meta-human with a sonic-sound-based ability. An emitter’s type supe. Someone who shouldn’t be underestimated. If both of them didn’t use their powers, she’d wipe the floor with him as his skill in hand-to-hand combats was painfully lacking.

Yet… “Seriously, why did you choose the name Black Canary as your hero’s name tho? Of all the birds of songs you could choose, you settle for the one which died first, sacrificed to detect the presence of toxic fumes in mines…” Jack still couldn’t bring himself to take her seriously right now. “Add to that the way you dress and your entire persona just doesn’t scream ‘badass hero, don’t fuck around with’.”

In her defense, the way she was scantily dressed might be totally on purpose and done so to distract an opponent. God knew that her appearance at first did with him. Still, in his opinion, seeing as she wasn’t an Augmented with enhanced physical attributes, the trade-off of protection to inflict a distracted status effect wasn’t worth it. Any stray bullet and she would either be dead or out of commission in a fight.

Black Canary furiously glared at him, silently bristling at the dig. Clenching her hands into a fist, she finally took a step back, teeth grinding in frustration. But soon, her looks of anger evaporated as soon as it came, whisked away and replaced by a small, serene smile, bleeding with satisfaction.

“So, you did indeed know who I was huh… “ She stated, having picked up on his small slip-up. Not that it mattered at this point. “Good God, I’m getting riled up by a nobody,” she laughed sharply. “Congratulations are in order it seems.” The short-stack heroine directed a small smirk at him, “Good job for that. I can respect it, seeing as it has worked like a charm, I admit. This once, I will forgive you for the impertinence. Still, no matter what you think of my name or intentions–”

“You were literally in my face, trying to force me down to your level,” Jack snickered, interrupting her – which had the effect of making her pursed her lips. “I’m still not hearing any apologies for that by the way. I should be the one who has to forgive you. Not the other way around. You committed some first-degree sexual assault shit on me after all.”

Black Canary worked her jaw, opened and closed her mouth multiple times as if waiting to say something before ultimately settling on saying, “Still,” and making a pause – deftly ignoring his comment. She was all but daring him with her eyes to say something. Jack was tempted to but he feared she would do something drastic so he didn’t push his luck this time. Satisfied, she continued. “There’s the matter of your presence in the city to talk about.”

‘Ah, so it came.’ He thought with some grimness. The whole reason behind his presence here. Why she placed that special delivery order and made him join her all the way up there, consequently doing some kind of power play.

She was going straight to the subject.

Jack had derailed the conversation – with success – as soon as she first mentioned something about him not exactly being an ‘ordinary’ delivery man. He did his best to annoy, antagonize and rile her up until she became so fed up with him that she would rather pay then dismiss him than keep interacting with him.

However, it seemed like it wouldn’t be the case.

Hum, he could still continue roasting her supe’s name and get-up but it might get old rather quickly – he was a good comedian, not a reddit one, so recycling the same jokes over and over again wasn’t his style when after the third time, the joke would be stale – especially if she chose to ignore his words and simply refuse to get rile up again.

Or decides to teach him a lesson and slap the shit out of him.

‘How annoying,’

It was time to face the music, it seemed. Jack would rather keep teasing the shit out of the smoll, older woman but oh well.

“So,” Seeing as he remained silent, it emboldened her to push. “I heard a lot about you.” She leadingly said, making a pointing pause.

“Huh huh.”

“Lorenzo’s new delivery man. A mercenary for hire coming from Russia. A magic user hailing from an alien world. A new meta-human with the power of telekinesis. Or simply a dude who lucks out by getting his hands on some advanced tech, going around cosplaying as a character from the video game Fallout New-vegas.” Black Canary softly whispered, her voice carrying through the wind even while she was circling him like a vulture. “A lot of rumors concerning your origin are circulating around. One day, you were a nobody, an unknown, someone who’s never been sighted in Gotham before, and the next week, you’re the talk of The Bowery, Crime Alley and Burnley,” she paused, smirking. “So, tell me, who are you truly… Rule?”

A brief look of surprise flashed across his face but it disappeared quickly.

As far as most people were concerned, he went by The Delivery Guy. Lorenzo was the only person who he directly told his supe’s name. From there, he told it to some people who had specifically asked after him. For her to have heard it… she’s been keeping an eye on him or made her research, that's for sure.

“I’m the Delivery Guy, duh.” Jack drily replied, voice flat. “You literally said so yourself, I’m Lorenzo’s new delivery man.”

“Now, you’re being purposely dense,” she pursed her lips at his answer. “You know what I’m talking about; what I'm asking. Who are you and where do you come from?”

He rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, “Woman, I’m just some nigga in armor making deliveries. The fuck else there is to it? The fuck do you want me to say more?” The game of deflect, deflect, deflect and deflect, was on.

“Well, for starters, I’d like to get a straight answer to my question. I’d also like to know what you’re planning to do in Gotham,” Black Canary sassily answered. Yet, there was no mistaking the certain edge in her words, an idle threat hanging around that frankly, he didn’t care about at all. “What are you doing in Crime Alley and Burnley?"

Jack stared at her, wondering if she was stupid, deaf or had low comprehension. ‘Maybe all three,’ he thought. With a dash of autism added on top.

Besides the fact that he didn’t have any nefarious plot for the city, or was out looking to purposely fuck with villains or heroes, he wasn’t going to answer any of her questions with anything but the most obvious answer.

“Delivering pizzas…?” He drawled with contemptuous ease. “What else would I do…? What else am I currently doing even right now? Seriously, I have more deliveries to make so can we just wrap all of this, please? Your pizza is going to become cold as it is. Yours and that of everyones!”

“You want me to believe that some ‘nigga in armor’ with powers is doing nothing else than working a minimal-wage job delivering pizzas…?” She questioned incredulously, not fearing the power of cancel culture. “You want me to believe that?”

“Believe what you want, I’m not here to convince you of anything, miss stripper.” Her eyebrow twitched and it brought a smile to his lips. “I’m here to deliver your order, let me do my job. Sooo… about that payment, what it's going to be? Cash or debit?”

He already knew it would be debit in her case. She has no cash on her and the presence of what seemed like a small plastic card in her left jacket’s pocket, told him this much.

“Look, I’m only worried about what your presence in the city entails. A meta-human like you working a high-profile job for a vulnerable target like Lorenzo will attract attention. The wrong kind of attention. You might become a target recruit for some gangs, or one to be eliminated if you prove to be cumbersome.” Upon seeing that she wasn’t moving him with her authoritative approach, she changed track. “Even if you truly want to be left alone and continue to do your job, you won’t be. Simply by sheer virtue that you’re one of the rare unaffiliated meta-humans in town.” It was curious how certain she was that he was a meta-human. “You either will be forced to pick a side, or leave the city altogether.”

“And I suppose you’re going to be one of those people who’ll force me to pick a side or leave the city…?”

“I won’t,” she refuted. “I’m only warning you.”

Jack would have been much more inclined to believe her if she hadn’t tried less than one minute ago to interrogate and make him spit out any information about him. She might have been simply trying to glimpse the motivation(s) of a new unknown element as a hero, but it didn’t blind him from the fact that she’s been quite heavy-handed in her method.

Still, it didn’t hurt to keep a veneer of politeness in cases like this and pretend to nod along with the given justification. “I understand where you’re coming from.” He did even though he was annoyed with her. From her game, to her intimidating act and impromptu interrogation. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“As long as you do, it should be fine when–”

A bright flash of light lit up the night sky as an ear-splitting sound of an explosion echoed into the distance, ringing up like thunder and interrupting their conversation. The entire building seemed to shake and rattle onto itself as an earthquake rocked through the foundation. A burst of hot air made its way through space, clashing against the chilly night air, and causing the temperature to rise.

Jack briefly wobbled before quickly regaining his footing.

“What was that?” He asked, turning around to look at the cause of the explosion.

The sky was on fire. Smoke was rising into the air, clogging the night sky with black smog even as he watched a huge skyscraper being set ablaze; the high-rise building bent out of shape. Even from there, he could feel the intensity and heat generated by the fire which was spreading across the area.

He heard the sound of static coming from his right and turned back to see Black Canary putting on a pair of earpieces.

“I saw the explosion… Firefly… I… in the area… I’ll be there soon… got it…” After a one-sided discussion – at least on his part – Black Canary put back her earpieces in her jacket before striding to the edge of the building and pulling out a kind of gun.

‘No, is this a… grappling gun?’ Jack couldn’t help but question what he was seeing.

“Seems like our little conversation has to be cut short,” she told him. “Shame. Didn’t even have the time to eat that Supreme Pizza.”

Blinking, he shouted. “WAIT!” Startling her as he walked toward her. “Wait, wait, wait, wait.” He repeated, lower this time.

“What?” She turned her head to regard him.

“I know that people are in dire need of help and you gotta rush to the scene to save them,” he started. “But before you go, you gotta pay for that pizza.”

She gave him a blank glance. “Really?”

At the sheer look of disbelief she was giving him, he felt his face flush. “W-well, euh… yeah.” Uncharacteristically from the young rogue, he spluttered. “Look, you made me climb 20 floors to deliver that pizza. I could have just toss the shit on the entrance floor and fuck off. Instead, I personally came over here, the least you can do is pay me…” His voice grew smaller toward the end. “... and tip me.”

She stared at him. “Seriously?”

“I’m dirt poor…” Jack turned his head away, giving a small lie. “It’s the only legal job I can do that helps me pay the bills…”

Black Canary stared at him. Her regard said it all and he felt his face flushed behind his helmet despite himself.

He was about to say nevermind and tell her to just go but before he could, she angrily pulled out a small, blue credit card and slapped it against his chest. “Be quick!” She snapped.

“Huh, y-yes!” He quickly brought up his wrist-mounted GPS and navigated through its interface menu. Once he found the Mobile card machine’s function, he entered into the app, and typed off the order's price before pointing the GPS to her.

She deftly swept through the options and swept her card, paying the bill, even as an invoice of the order was being printed out.

“Here's your receipt–”

“You can keep it,” she cut him out before he could offer her the receipt. The oh-so-natural action he used to do by reflex, was done at an improper time considering the actual situation. As she pointed her grappling gun at a nearby, smaller building. “And just leave the pizza on the floor here!” Black Canary yelled, breaking into a small sprint and firing off a cable.

The cable launched into the air, the hook lodging itself on the nearby building’s anchor as the woman leaped off of the office building and swung through the air in a show of aerial grace.

“Holy shit!” Jack watched her become a tiny dot in the distance as she swung from buildings to buildings and soon, she was out of his sight and sphere. “They really do travel by swinging from building to building with an honest-to-goddamn grappling gun…”

He read this on the equivalent of this world’s wikipedia. Batman and most of the non-supe heroes affiliated with him, tended to swing from building to building, travelling through the air and crossing vast distances like this while using a fucking grappling gun of all things.

It was a ludicrous thing to conceive and yet, he just witnessed Black Canary jump off a 20-storey high building and swing herself from building to building. The fact that the grappling gun managed to support her weight and carry her momentum…

‘Ridiculous.’

It has to be Genius tech, he thought.

Humming, Jack watched for more time as two dozen red and blue lights raced through the streets of Gotham in the direction of the blazing fire which he could tell by its dwindling intensity, was already being put out.

However, after some time, he grew tired of the spectacle and decided to gently drop the pizza on the ground, finally preparing to leave the scene himself. It was while idly looking at the receipt between his hands that he noticed a small detail.

Jack blinked.

“Goddamn it!” And swore. “The fucking bitch swept no on leaving a tip!”

After all the trouble he went through!

Star_Lander

Well, with that. I'm switching to updating this story once a week or once every ten days if I'm busy with something. Just saw this fic is 'first' on Gotham category fandom! Yeah! Great achievement. Hopefully, it'll remain first for years to come! The next update will be for next week around the same day. Take care,