The Race is On

Knowing that Pam would be pissed if a groundskeeper told her I left ruts on the grass, I used my strength to hope over the bit of yard that was in between the parking lot and the street. Knowing that there was no way I could beat her bike on a straight run I used a few alleyways I knew of just to make up some ground. I finally saw her taillights; well, I assumed it was her. The chances of someone else having the exact bike and helmet were pretty slim in the area we were in. She was simply traveling with traffic, currently stopped at a red light and I assumed she didn't want to draw too much attention to herself but if it was going to be a race, attention was going to be drawn!

 I noticed the crosswalk indicator was counting down, so I judged the timing and opened my throttle at the most opportunistic time, and just as Pam had picked up her feet and started to throttle forward, I blew past her at the top speed my bike had. The surrounding cars didn't have time to honk their horns in anger as I blew past them as well. 

 To my joy, Pam did not take this lying down. I watched in my rear-view mirror as she crouched down on her bike and nearly rested her ample chest on the gas tank before she also opened the throttle wide and started making up distance on me like a cheetah on a gazelle named dinner. Knowing that she easily had me on any straightaway I decided to see if she wanted to just win the race by taking the easiest route to the park or if she wanted to beat me and would follow my twists and turns. 

 If she took the straight route, that would mean she let her bike do all the work to win. If she followed me, then it was the driver as much as the bike that beat me. I knew no matter what way it went she would win, but only one way would earn my respect. To my absolute glee, she followed me when I took a side street straying off the straight path to the park. Pam was still gaining on me as we raced through the streets and alleys of what Gotham called the Cauldron. At one point we blasted past another group of bikes on the road, me leading but Pam was less than 10 feet from my back tire. As soon as I made another turn, this time past Noonan's Tavern Pam made her move. She leaned into the turn more than I could and with her knee nearly dragging on the ground she got in front of me and straightened up with a little wave at her rear-view mirror. 

Now, gaining such a great view of Pam's wonderful tail end I was tempted to just hang back and enjoy the view. However, that just didn't go well with my personality. Even knowing I was going to lose doesn't mean I'm going to give up. I could take all my weight off the bike or even use my telekinesis and win the race, but that would be cheating. Regretfully taking my eyes off Pam's ass, I began looking ahead for anything that would give me a little edge. Seeing a group of cars ahead I see she is going to end up boxed in if she keeps in the lane she has. I start backing off just slightly to give myself more time to react. 

 Then just as she enters the box, I quickly turn into the right lane but keep moving over until I'm in the bike lane (I know officer, but I'm on a bike!). Again, I open the throttle and zoom past the traffic. I look back at Pam who was caught by two cars traveling back wheel to front wheel. She looked around for a minute and then she jumped into the oncoming lane and let her bike loose, catching up to me in no time. She got back into the correct lane and still ahead of me, she leaned forward and nearly stood up showing off her fabulous asset, and then she started wiggling it at me. (I would bite that ass and pray for Lockjaw.) 

 Before I could make another move in the race, we had arrived at Crown Park and pulled into the parking lot. Pam straightened up and took off her helmet shaking her hair and throwing me a look that screamed NA NA NA. All I could do was take my loss with humility and bow in her direction after I got off my bike. Locking up our bikes because, well, we are in Gotham at night. We started just walking next to each other. I felt movement on my shoulder and next thing I knew Morph came out stretching and yawning like he had just woken up. Looking around he noticed Pam and looked back at me with a smile taking up half his face and just gave out a wolf whistle. 

 Pam looked at Morph and asked, "What is that?"

Logan laughed, "There is your first question. He is Morph, he is Parliament sap come to life and my partner. He can take on any shape he sees, but he doesn't seem able to hold it for too long. One question left before I get to start asking." 

We just keep walking in silence, and I enjoy the quiet. Eventually, we ended up at the big tree where I came up out of the cave a while back, I also got the phone from its branches which eventually led me to meet Pam. She sat down with her back to the tree trunk and patted the ground next to her, inviting me to join her.

Pam, "So what are you that the Parliament of Limbs would give you something as valuable as its life sap?"

Logan, "I really don't know how to answer that one. I am a clone of the young hero Beast Boy, and somehow the Parliament gave me access to its cosmic plane thinking I was him. When they realized their mistake, they were about to take those powers away from me but found my knowledge of exotic life forms a plus. So instead, they gave me Morph to grow with me and most likely keep an eye on me."

"What about you? Why do I feel like I have such a connection to you?" Logan asked.

Pam looked at him, "That's 2 questions, and the answer is my life story."

Pam turned and placed her back on the ground and put her head in Logan's lap, staring up at the tall branches of the tree. "When I was little, I lived with my mother and father and learned the art of gardening from my mother who loved to plant flowers. I loved to be with my mother in the garden but anywhere else I was frustrated with her. It seemed about once every couple of months, my mom would have an accident and hurt herself to the point she struggled to move. Only in the garden was she all smiles and cheerful with me. When I was 17, I saw for the first time why my mother was so clumsy. I was supposed to be at a friend's house, but she got sick last minute and canceled on me. That night my father came home stinking of a smell I wasn't familiar with and stumbling around, when my mother came to help him, he hit her with the back of his hand. I watched from the top of the stairs."

"Her head hit the wall and she was dazed for a moment before she told him "Pamela is home!" I wanted to run down and check on her, but my father really scared me at that moment. He wasn't anything like I knew him to be. "Let her watch, she is nearly old enough to marry anyway so she should see how to take it when her husband wants to dish it out!" As soon as he was done talking, he punched my mother in the belly, and she stumbled back. "NO, we agreed never to let this happen when she was around, that's the only reason I didn't run away with her." After I heard that I ran to my room as quietly as I could and crying, I put my headphones on and blared my music."

"The next morning, I came downstairs and saw the dent in the wall I saw my mother's head make. It confirmed to me that last night wasn't a dream. I walked into the kitchen to see my dad making breakfast and he smiled at me when he noticed I was in the room. "Morning dear, Mom fell down the stairs again last night so I'm making her breakfast in bed. Did you hear her fall?" I quickly shook my head and was happy that the dad I knew was back and the scary one was gone again. My dad went to the store and bought a bunch of flowers, he told me, "She may be in bed for a couple of days because of how bad the fall was so I'm hoping these flowers cheer her up." That is how I learned that plants could manipulate people." 

Listening to Pam's story I reflexively started to run my hand over her head she put in my lap.