Boomerangs and Butterflies

The Church Basement

Digger blinked his bleary eyes open, it seemed to him that grit was grating on his tender grey pupils, he would have sworn loudly if it weren't for the fact his mouth seemed to be barren of all moisture, he ran his tongue experimentally over his teeth, grimacing slightly as his dry tongue dragged across his metal tooth. Regaining his senses, Digger began to study his surroundings, he was surrounded on all sides by gaudy pink marble, the room was small and, if his assumption was correct, he seemed to me chained to a large marble pillar. Fuck, he thought to himself, of all the places to be taken to, it had to be a fucking church.

Digger was not a nice man, in fact, he was everything a good, honest Christian despised, and so, naturally, Captain Boomerang was not overly keen on any place of holy worship. He raised his arms experimentally to find them chained tightly to his sides, so constricted he could feel the bruising imprints of the metal through his many layers of clothing. Giving a loud, audible groan he realised in how much of a dangerous and helpless situation he had found himself in, chained, sitting on the cold and unforgiving floor.

He let his mind wonder, his sharp, analytical mind wandering over the best and worst possible outcomes of the precarious position he had found himself in. Digger ran through every person in the squad, villain or not, he had to presume they were all facing similar difficulties as him at the moment. Checking each name of his mental list he predicted the possibility of them escaping, some were easy to envisage Flag was a jumped up drongo, he wouldn't be able to escape even if one of the Johns showed him the exit. El diablo had a chance, but there was nothing flammable around to use as an offensive weapon, Harley could seduce her way out of chains perhaps, however he strongly doubted the creepy Plastic People could feel any arousal at her mind games. Crocs strength could be at his side, but judging on the amount of chains wrapped around his own body at the moment, he suspected that even Killer Croc would have his work cut out for him.

And then there was the Scarlett Ghost. Charlotte. That girl had plagued his mind for the past two days, she was extraordinary. Her abilities gave her the best chance to escape. Boomerang slowly forgot about his list of possible successes as he focused on the infuriating blonde. Digger could easily admit that he was attracted to her, he'd be insane not to be, her short, curvy figure was stunning, along with her striking blue eyes and a wicked smile that could knock any man to his knees. Digger smirked slightly, thinking of how he'd have to ask her one of these days how she came to possess the faint scar that ran from the outer corner of her right eye, to the base of her cheek.

She was a piece of work. Sassy, rude, he knew that she was someone who he could easily get along with, make an ally out of. She didn't bat an eye at his suggestive comments, or his violent nature. They could be friends, friends with benefits would was preferable to him though. But no more than that. Emotional attachment never suited any notorious villain, especially Captain Boomerang. It made you weak.

From somewhere behind him, Digger heard the sound of a heavy door crashing open, followed by the loud cursing and a short scuffle. "Ouch, that fucking hurt! You know what? I bet your mama is a cactus, because you're an absolute prick. And what's with the one word replies, I could eat a bowl of alphabet spaghetti and crap out a more interesting conversation than what you're giving me!"

Diggers smirk grew even wider when he recognised the voice of Charlotte growing nearer to him, watching with wary amusement as Charlotte was forced to the floor by two plastic looking females, "Who are your friends, eh darlin'" he called over to the struggling female. Immediately Charlotte stopped her battle, blindly looking over to where Digger was sitting, a heavy sack slung over her head.

"These guys are Jane 17 and 31," she said, her voice muffled slightly by the thick, coarse fabric. "They couldn't keep me where I was, I trashed the place before they figured out I was telekinetic, I figure they wanted to move me to a room with less...stuff." She shrugged her shoulders as best she could with the chains restricting her breathing. The Janes straightened suddenly, satisfied that /charlotte couldn't move, turned on their heels and left, without a backwards glance.

Digger smirked, "Well sweet cheeks, you got me for company now, eh?" charlotte snorted unattractively from beneath her sack, "Well," she chuckled, "You're definitely better company than Miss and Mrs Creepy." Her voice became serious all of a sudden, as she attempted to tilt her head in an attempt to rid herself of the sack, "Let's figure out how to get out of this hell hole then."

Digger hummed in agreement, feeling positive about their situation for the first time since he'd woken up.