This was going to be the last chapter till I decided to go more bookend-y. So you get another one yay (?)

Also guess who got locked out of their account again. THE MORAL OF THE STORY IS ALWAYS LINK EMAILS TO YOUR ACCOUNT SO YOU CAN GET THEM TO SEND YOU YOUR PASSWORD.

FIRST TWENTY CHAPTERS ARE STILL OVER HERE s/7734330/1/Basic-Skill

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Eleven at the Gotham docks.

Not a good place.

But the big guy seemed to know what he was doing.

Seemed to be armed too, but Clive wasn't about to say that.

You have a boat. You get a job picking someone up in Gotham in the middle of the night. Chances are they aren't exactly simpatico with the GCPD. Clive knew that, he'd made his peace with it, he was sure to feel guilty next Sunday (but guilty with a heavy wallet was better than righteous and poor). He was not going to start making moral judgements.

It was this waiting. Made him anxious. Made him freezing, too.

"Hey- hey. We gonna be here much longer?"

Eye-patch gave him a sharp look and Clive held up his hands in defeat. "Alright. Sorry."

The guy was a real cold fish (badum tsst that's a boat joke. Clive had a lot of them.) They'd met through a friend of a friend who had a lot of friends, and had only finalised all of this the night before. And like Clive had said then, he just didn't get it. "You look like class." He'd said to Eye-patch, "You could hire guys with comfy boats. You could hire a damn submarine. I don't like taking jobs I don't get."

"I had to hurry." Eye-patch obviously wasn't a sharer: the words sounded like he was prying them out of his mouth. "There was an… unforeseen complication. I don't think that we'll be interrupted, but due to certain… moving parts colliding it was necessary to bring my deadline forward."

It took Clive a moment. Why did these guys all talk like James Bond bad guys?

"Oh. Oh. Someone's onto you."

Eye-patch's head tilted. "Not. Exactly."

Clearly the last word on the subject.

Clive waved it off, "I don't care what you're planning. I'm not gonna ask. So long as the Bat's not involved it's all good."

Which brought them here. Now. Just past eleven.

Clive yawned.

"Y'know, normally when people say eleven they tend to actually mean eleven."

"We wait."

"I'm just say-"

A shadow moved. Clive almost fell into the water.

And Eye-patch smiled.

"I thought so."

It was a kid: dark haired. Dirty like he'd been shoved over a few times. Kind of familiar, but as soon as Clive started to recognise him he stopped himself. Nope. Not getting involved in whatever this was.

"Yeah, well…" He gave Eye-patch a dirty sort of look, something between a smirk and a glare. "Don't get smug about it. I'll change my mind."

"Duly noted." Eye-patch went to clasp the kid's shoulder, he dodged and shot a look down at Clive instead.

"This is how we're leaving?" He looked back at him. "It's not going to fall apart in the water is it?"

"Don't be so melodramatic." They walked on. Clive cast off.

The pair were silent, standing beside each other, watching the gap grow between them and Gotham.

"I don't want to come back here." The kid said quietly. "Or Jump."

"I was assuming." Eye-patch replied smoothly, looking down at him. "Bad memories?"

The wind picked up then, but Clive thought he heard him agree.