Chapter Text
“Thank you for everything. I'm glad you found your Terry.”
Those were the last words anyone heard before the room got quiet. The ocean waves crashing against the cliffside and a giant rusted metal statue just outside the house. The unfamiliar silence of a suspicious lack of monkeys and incoherent, violent screams filled the room.
Oh, right. Bat-Terry knocked them out. And she did it so swiftly and brutally, too. Just thinking about it made N-Gin forget he was still in his Partner in Crime's loving arms, waving the imposter bat goodbye. And good riddance, too. He wished he had gotten the chance to shoot the imposter for tricking him, but Terry obstructed him every chance she got.
His mismatched eyes finally looked away from the hallway down to the minions’ room, where the portal Bat-Terry had made once was, when he remembered there were still pancakes on the kitchen table. Hopping out of his partner’s grasp, N-Gin clutched their gloved hand with his own and pulled her into the kitchen. “Please, sit down, Terry. Let N-Gin take care of you. You must be so tired after coming all the way he—Oh…”
Then the cyborg stopped in place. “....better yet, how does breakfast in bed sound?” He tugged their hand and guided her out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
“You can lay down on a nice, comfy bed with your beloved partner and a nice plate of pancakes.”
A soft smile made itself at home on Bat-Terry’s ever-prominent stern expression as a chuckle escaped their fanged lips. “You're making it sound like you're the assista—Great Ceaser's Ghost!” She shouted.
N-Gin looked up at their shocked expression and back at his room.
“What is your bathtub doing between your bedroom door and your closet?” She paced around the room as she spoke, looking at every single thing in his room. “Why is your laundry drying inside? You could get mold. And why are there so many banana peels everywhere? I'm glad I knocked your monkeys’ teeth in, or else you would've found yourself a roach problem.”
A mischievous giggle left his chalk-white mouth. The reminder of how effortlessly Bat-Terry brought his three minions to their knees filled his mind with ideas only reserved for his deliciously cruel master. And now his beloved Partner in Crime. The previous confusion in his expression changed to match the tone of his laughter.
“Yeah, you knocked them good. And so efficiently too,” he praised. He wrapped his arms around the right side of their body. Running his fingers down their gunmetal gray knee-high boots, he asked: “Perhaps you can knock mine in sometime?”
A brief chuckle interrupted him as excitement rose in his voice. “I bet the deliciously cold steel will fit right in my–”
"Absolutely not,” she quickly declined. Bat-Terry patted the deep blue hairs on his head and slipped their leg out of his grasp.
“What?” Confusion returned to his expression, not caring that the bat’s maneuver caused him to fall to his knees. He watched her open a window before fluttering into the air to grab the clothing line to put it outside his house. He dashed to the window, shouting: “But why not? I'd be a willing participant! I’ll even stand still, if you’d like, I won’t even move a musc–”
“I love you, N-Gin, but can we talk about this when I'm not irritated?”
“Of course, my sweet.” The excitement in his tone died down as he donned a pensive expression. Why was she irritated, his mind asked.
“Oh, I know why,” he answered aloud. “It's because you're tired and hungry. You stay right there and I will get your food.”
N-Gin quickly turned away from the window and was in the process of walking out of his room when Bat-Terry appeared right in front of him. He didn’t even hear their wings fluttering above him. Only noticing it when he walked straight into her head first. Now he was back on the floor. Not on his knees, but his posterior.
“Sorry, N-Gin, but there’s work that needs to be done.” Where others would walk around him and continue what they were working on, Bat-Terry helped the cyborg to his feet before resuming what she was doing.
She picked the scattered banana peels off the floor and tossed them into the trash bin by his desk. He almost forgot how nice it was to watch her walk around the room doing mundane tasks like cleaning a floor of banana peels. Like she was a ballerina dancing across the stage. Or was it him that was supposed to be the ballerina? Oh, well.
Wait, she was supposed to be resting. He almost forgot she was just as stubborn as he was.
He shook the detached expression off his face. “No,” he repeated, sternness radiating in his voice.
“You sit down and rest.” It had been so long since he uttered a command with caring undertones.
“Work first, rest later. That's what you always tell your minions.”
N-Gin was brought aback by their statement, almost like it offended him. He struggled to find the right words on his tongue; only a scoff and some unintelligible nonsense came out of his mouth as he tried. Thankfully, it only took Bat-Terry leaving the room again to throw the trash bag filled with banana peels out and coming back for him to find the words he was looking for.
“But you're not my minion, you're my–” the obnoxious ring of the telephone filled the room. His face turned red with rage at the sound of it. “I'm not done talking! Wait your turn, you stupid phone! Or else I'll stick doo–”
Bat-Terry interrupted him before he could speak his favorite word. “You should get that.” At least it was her, though.
All ire vanished from the cyborg's expression at the sound of their voice. “You're right, Terry. I should get that.” Bat-Terry was one of the only people who could turn his frown upside down at the drop of a hat. Well, he did that to himself on a daily basis with how volatile his mood was.
N-Gin approached the telephone on his desk and held the handset to his ear. “I'm sorry, I'm not here to take your message right now. Please leave a mess–”
“It's Nina,” the familiar snarky tone of his master's dear daught—erm niece echoed.
“Oh!” He wiped his face clean of anger. “Hello, Nina. Is it summer break already?”
“It's not summer yet, doofus. Spring break just started. And I have just the evil plan to kick it into high gear.” He could feel the wicked smirk she was likely donning through her voice.
N-Gin cackled briefly. “I love plans---especially the evil ones. Stay right where you are, Nina. I'm coming over right away.”
“Eager as always.” She snickered. “Now, get here ASAP.”
“No need to tell me twice.” He bid his niece-by-proxy farewell and hung up the phone.
He turned around to face Bat-Terry and a fresh, clean room. Only one of those things he cared about. He swatted the broom out of their hands—The only reason why the broom fell to begin with was that she allowed it to happen—and clasped them. With a huge grin spreading on his face, stretching human cheek to mechanical cheek, he jumped in place.
More laughter shouted from his throat. “Did you hear that, Terry? We get to go back to the castle!” He cheered.
Stopping what he was doing, N-Gin dashed into his closet to grab his briefcase and tossed a few things, from clothes to a toothbrush to a few stationery supplies into it.
“I wonder what Nina is planning. It has to be deliciously devious if Master Cortex's dearest niece is scheming it—Ooh…” He interrupted himself. “...maybe we'll get to see him after so long. He always makes time for his niece. He wouldn't just abandon her for an entire year. That's highly unlike him.”
He continued rambling the entire time he was packing, and he didn't stop when he ran down the stairs while holding Bat-Terry's unoccupied hand as she listened quietly, missing the sound of his chaotic voice. She couldn't help but notice the lack of a modulator in it—she explicitly remembered him having one—but she chalked it up to the time away changing him for the worse. It sure as hell changed her for the worse. Either way, she loved him regardless.
“Now, should I use the tank, the tank, or the other tank?” He asked.
N-Gin was about to walk to each of the three vehicles he had in his small underground garage when Bat-Terry stopped in place. Causing him to come to an abrupt halt. She pulled him towards her, forcing the back of his head to ram into their upper torso.
“I have a better idea,” she declared.