Disclaimer: The characters, concepts, and locations from Batman Beyond are the property of Warner Bros. Television and DC Comics.  They are used without permission, but not to make a profit.  The character of the Stranger is my own creation and may not be used without my permission.

Timeline: This takes place during Season I of Batman Beyond, after "Disappearing Inque" but before "Ascension."

He stood on the lip of the mag-train tunnel, left hand thrust into his pants pocket, right hand hanging loosely at his side.  His left foot was resting on its toes, crossed in front of his right leg.  Nobody saw him.  He wanted it that way.  It might have also been because it was around midnight and the man wore utterly black clothing.  The only hint of color was in the blue of his scarf.  A
long duster flapped behind him in the cold wind.  He slowly raised his right hand to the silvery goggles on his eyes and gently adjusted them.

The man dropped his hand, then removed his other hand from his pocket and looked at his chronometer.  He inclined his head a bare millimeter in a nod, then stood straight.  He watched the mag-train roar up, then calmly stepped out into space.  Milliseconds later, the man was standing atop the roof of the train as it entered the tunnel.

"Terry."  Batman glanced up as the voice crackled in his ears.

"What is it?"

"Alarm on mag-train #4, track #23," Bruce Wayne said.  "Somebody's robbing the passengers."

"Great," Batman muttered.  "All right.  I'll go check it out.  Chances are he'll be gone by the time I get there."

"Just do your job," Wayne sniped.

Batman considered replying to that, but decided against it, twisting the car around to intercept the train.  It didn't take long.  He brought the car into hover over the train, then dropped through the floor to land on the top.  He switched on his camouflage and peered inside.

There was a tall, lean man pacing around inside.  He didn't look that tough.  The man wore a black duster that covered the equipment clipped to the belt he wore around his waist.  Unfortunately, everything on the man's body was black, thus making it somewhat difficult to discern what he had on the belt.  The man turned his head sideways, apparently addressing the passengers.  He wore a blue scarf on his face, covering the lower portion.  Silvery goggles obscured his eyes.  His hair was the same jet-black color as his duster.

Time to get down to business, Batman thought to himself.  He stood back up and dropped down to the connecting bridge between the two cars.  He put one hand on the door controls and held one ready to flick out a Batarang.  He waited for
the burglar to turn his back, then whipped open the door, de-cloaking, throwing a Batarang in one smooth motion.

The burglar turned quickly, making a martial arts move with his arm.  The Batarang struck his arm, but energy sparked off something underneath.  The Batarang was deflected, impacting in the ceiling.  Although the man's face was covered, Batman could sense he was smiling beneath that scarf.  "The infamous Batman, I presume?" he asked.  His voice was quiet, but it had an underlying power to it.

"You must be new in town," Batman replied.  "People don't usually go around stealing from people on trains."

"You'll have to excuse me then," the man said.  "I'm just a stranger."  He swept around in a circle, dashing for the other end of the train.  Batman held back a curse as he prepared another Batarang.  Hurling it, his jaw nearly dropped in shock as the man whipped around, swinging his fist in a backhand.  Another discharge of energy, and the Batarang spiraled away.

The man turned, kicking open the door to the back of the train.  Batman sped after him, but when he caught up to him, the man had vanished.  Batman looked around for him then spotted the burglar standing atop one of the side supports for the track.  The man made a mock salute, snapping his fingers as he dropped his arm, then flipped over backwards, disappearing behind the support.

Batman climbed to the roof of the train and summoned the Batmobile.  He punched the accelerator and quickly made a scan of the area around the support, but there was no sign of the man.

"He got away?" Wayne asked.  He didn't sound happy, and for good reason, Terry presumed.

"This guy was fast, Bruce," Terry said, "and he was able to deflect the Batrangs somehow.  I think he's wearing some kind of strength-enhancing armor underneath that jacket, like the Batsuit."

"Did he give a name?" Wayne continued, tapping away at the computer.

"He just said that he was a stranger," Terry replied.

The elderly man had managed to get one captured image from the Batsuit's camera.  He put the picture of the Stranger up on the screen.  "He one of yours?" Terry asked.

"No," Wayne replied.  "He's definitely a newcomer."

"Well, at least he's just an ordinary thief, not like Inque or Shriek," Terry remarked.

"It's never just an 'ordinary thief,'" Bruce said dryly.

"I'm not paying you to rob trains," Derek Powers said dangerously.

The Stranger shrugged.  "I was testing the waters.  I wanted to know what I was getting myself into."

"Really?" Powers said sarcastically.  "And just what are you getting yourself into?"

"A job that should prove quite entertaining," the Stranger replied.  "This Batman you warned me of is nothing more than a boy.  He is totally uncoordinated and, quite frankly, lacks intelligence."

Powers raised a finger.  "Careful.  Batman is not to be underestimated."

The Stranger chuckled quietly.  "Please.  He relies on his technology to win.  He is no threat to me, as it should be for you."

"Just do what I paid you to do," Powers warned, "or you'll find out just how much of a threat I can be."

The Stranger raised his hands, as if to calm him down.  "All right, all right," he said in his quiet voice.  "I can do this job with no problem.  Just give me time."

"I don't have all the time in the world," Powers snapped.

The Stranger seemed to smirk under his scarf.  "None of us do, boss.  None of us do."

"Slow night," Batman remarked.

"That'll change," Bruce said.

The Batmobile glided between buildings as Bruce and Batman both scanned the radio frequencies for any signs of illegal activities that Batman could take care of.  It continued that way for several hours, before Bruce spoke up.

"There's a break-in at the Daggett Industries chemical plant," he informed Batman.  "Looks like it might be the Stranger again."

"I've been wanting to tangle with him again," Batman said as he guided the car around to head for the chemical plant.  "I want to figure out how he did that thing with the Batarangs."

"Focus, Terry," Bruce admonished him.  "You have a job to do."

Batman parked the Batmobile in the alley outside the plant and switched on his camouflage.  He crept into the chemical plant, wary.  He could hear the Stranger moving around somewhere.  He followed the source of the noises.

The Stranger was maneuvering a barrel of some type of chemical onto a hovering cart used to transport heavy drums.  His back was to Batman, engrossed in securing the barrel.  As he shifted his weight, thus moving his jacket, Batman could see three other barrels already in place on the cart.  Batman sighed.  Time to try this again.  He readied himself, then dropped his cloak and flung a Batarang.

Once again, the Stranger spun around, deflecting the projectile with a sharp martial arts chop.  The mysterious thief just shook his head.  "You never learn, do you, kid?"

"It's Batman," he snapped.

The Stranger chuckled softly.  "Right, kid.  You just keep telling yourself that."  He snatched something off his belt and threw it as he fluidly ducked around behind the barrels of chemicals.  He smacked the control panel and the cart slowly started to hover off toward a side exit.

Batman, meanwhile, was occupied with the object the Stranger had thrown.  It was a light blue disc, glowing with energy.  It curved around toward Batman, crashing into his chest with a powerful discharge.  He grunted as the disc bounced away, curving back through the air toward the Stranger.  Batman was thrown back several feet by the discharge, looking up to see the Stranger pluck the disc out of the air, slipping it back beneath his duster.

Batman charged back up toward the Stranger, rocketing into the air to hurl a salvo of Batarangs down at him.  The Stranger crouched back, moving his arms and hands, deflecting the thrown weapons and dodging those that he missed.  As Batman descended, the Stranger grabbed something else off his belt and flicked it open.  It was a rather long knife, probably better called a short sword.

The Stranger swung the blade, forcing Batman to back-flip out of the way as the deadly instrument came down.  The Stranger flicked something else on the handle of the sword, causing energy to crackle up and down the length of the blade.  He held it ready as he crouched behind the drums again, the cart still moving toward the exit.

Batman considered his options.  The Stranger's speed and armor made it difficult to hit him with the Batarangs, and now he had a sword out to cut him open.  He suspected the Batsuit would hold back most blades, but this blade was energized, which didn't add up to a good thing for Batman.

The Stranger chuckled again.  "Planning something, kid?  Better make it fast."

Batman scowled.  "Bruce," he subvocalized, "any tips?"

"He's got electronic circuits in his clothing," Bruce replied.  "Try throwing one of the electrified Batarangs."

Batman could have slapped himself.  "I must be tired.  Why didn't I think of that?"  He quickly added, "Don't answer that."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Bruce said, with a slight smirk in his voice.

Batman crouched, tense, arm held up to prepare another projectile.  The Stranger watched him intently, sword held ready to deflect any attacks.  Batman rocketed up and flung several standard-issue Batarangs, but he threw in two electrified ones as well.

As expected, the Stranger deflected the attack with his sword and whatever armor he was wearing under that duster.  But when the electrified Batarangs hit him, the Stranger gave a shout of pain.  Energy coursed over his arms, causing him to
drop his sword.  Batman wasted no time, diving forward and tackling the Stranger.

The Stranger grunted as he and Batman rolled on the ground, the latter landing several punches, which the Stranger hardly seemed to feel.  The Stranger then seemed to get his bearings and grabbed Batman's wrists.  The Stranger grinned beneath his scarf as energy poured through the Batsuit.  Within, Terry McGinnis writhed in pain.

"Surprised?" the Stranger laughed.

"Not really," Batman managed to choke.  He broke free of the thief's grip and reversed the position -- grabbing the Stranger's wrists, then shoving his boots into the man's stomach and activating the rockets.  The Stranger was propelled across the chemical plant, where he crashed into a console.  Batman, unfortunately, was sent skidding along the floor until he crashed into a support for the upper level.

"That was smart," Bruce remarked over the com-line.

"Oh, shut up," Batman snapped as he got back up, rubbing his head.  Then he looked up at the hover-cart with the barrels.  He quickly rocketed up to the cart and examined the control panel.

The Stranger's disc swerved through the air and slammed him from the side.  The Stranger caught it on the return trip.  "Ah-ah-ah," he scolded.  "Bad Bat-kid.  You're not supposed to play with that."

The Stranger put away the disc and hopped onto the cart.  He slapped the control panel, causing the cart to move toward the exit more quickly.  As he glided away, the Stranger leaned down off the cart to scoop up his sword, which he deactivated and put away.

"I'd love to stay and spar some more, kid," the Stranger called, "but I have a job to finish."  He kicked the exit door open and glided out as Batman got up from where he'd landed to pursue.

When he got outside, he saw the Stranger guiding the hover cart into a waiting transport van.  Batman flung another electrified Batarang at the Stranger, but again the thief was too fast.  He spun around, then leaned aside as the projectile flew past.

"Still at it, kid?" the Stranger chuckled.  "Well, fine, if you want to toss sharp, pointy objects around, then try this on for size!"

He reached back in his duster, then pulled out a three-pointed star-like projectile.  He flicked a control, and blades emerged from the points.  The Stranger wound up and flung the star at Batman.

"Terry!  Look out!" Bruce shouted over the com-line.

"No kidding!" Batman screamed as he dodged out of the star's path.  But the star acted as a boomerang, curling around and coming back.  Batman ducked again, watching as the star lopped off a corner of the platform he'd emerged from the plant on.

The Stranger caught the star in his hand, then back-flipped away as Batman dove at him.  The nimble thief pushed off a light-pole and catapulted himself upwards, toward the elevated trains.  Batman followed as quickly as he could.

By the time he'd reached the level of the elevated trains, the Stranger was standing atop a departing train.  It was moving far too fast for Batman to catch up.  To make matters worse, it was heading for one of the largest exchanges in Gotham.  Batman could pursue, but by the time he reached the exchange, the Stranger would be long-gone.

As if to rub it in, the Stranger grinned behind his scarf.  He saluted, snapping his fingers as he dropped his arm.  The train descended into the tunnel, and the Stranger disappeared in the darkness.

"Only four barrels?" Powers thundered.

The Stranger spread his hands.  "Look, I did what was asked.  When the Batman showed up, I had to abort.  I got what I could out."

The CEO roared, "Do you have any idea how much of a foul-up this is?"

The thief winced behind his mask.  "Hey, simmer down, sparky.  If you want me to get more drums for you, you're going to have to increase my pay.  It's going to be tougher to break in now that they know I've been in there."

Powers seethed.  His secretary placed a hand on his shoulder, as if to try to calm him down.  But Powers batted her hand away, snarling.  Cracks appeared in his skin around his eyes, neon green light pouring out.  The Stranger saw this and stepped back a moment, startled.

"That's right," Powers growled.  "Take a good, long look.  This is what I need those chemicals for!  To hide this!"  He raised a flaking hand to his face and peeled off a patch of skin, exposing the radioactive body beneath it.

"What the devil are you?" the Stranger muttered.

Powers growled, the glow intensifying, causing more of the skin to peel and flake off.  "I am Blight, you half-wit," he scowled.  "But I can't be seen in public like this.  Get more of those chemicals now!"

The Stranger paused a moment, then chuckled.  "Hey, tell you what, boss: you pay me a retainer fee to keep my mouth shut about this on top of my current payment, and I'll do what you ask."

Blight roared again, hurling a glowing ball of radiation at the Stranger.  It knocked the man head-over-heels across the room.  The secretary gasped with surprise.  Blight scowled at the thief.  "Do what I ask," he said, "and I won't have to repeat that."

"Gotcha," the Stranger choked.  "No problem, boss.  I'll do what you ask."  He stood up, holding a hand to his side.  He backed away from Blight.  "But I'm not kidding about the pay increase.  This is not going to be easy.  I want a 35%
increase in my pay for the risk I'm taking."

"Just get the job done," Blight snarled.  He glowered after the thief as he left, then walked to his videophone, dialing a number.  "Doctor, prepare another batch of skin.  I'm shedding again."

"So what did the Stranger steal?" Terry asked as he removed the cowl in the Batcave.

"Synthetic polymer D-71," Bruce replied.  "It's used in hospitals to make synthetic skin for patients with severe burns."  The computer showed a molecule with several carbon-rings and multiple double bonds.

"Why would the Stranger steal it?" Terry inquired.  "He have a skin problem or something?"

Bruce frowned.  "Did you get a good look at the transport that got away with the barrels?"

"No," Terry said.  "I was too busy trying to catch the bad guy."

"I did get a good look at it," Bruce said.  He tapped keys on the computer, bringing up an image taken by the Batsuit's camera.  The transport was in the background as the Stranger hurled the throwing star at him.  Bruce zoomed in on a panel on the transport's side.  The image cleared, allowing them both a good look.

"Wayne-Powers?" Terry said.  "Stranger's working for them?"

"There's more," Bruce said.  He brought up the image of D-71 again, with a blurb of information scrolling along the side.  "D-71 has been shown to have high tolerances for radiation."

Terry looked at him.  "Blight?"

"He was at Wayne-Powers when Fries attacked," Bruce pointed out.

Terry scowled.  "Blight works for Powers.  Well, I'll be damned."

"Go back to Daggett Industries," Bruce said.  "Make sure the Stranger doesn't steal any more D-71."

"Right," Terry said, pulling the cowl back up.  "I'll stay in touch.  Maybe you can help me find a way around that armor of his."

"If you thought more than you acted, you might be able to bring the Stranger down without needing the Batarangs," Bruce said.

Terry rolled his eyes.  "Okay.  I get the point.  Brain is better than brawn."

"I'm not so sure you do get the point," Bruce replied.  "But now's not the time.  Get out there and stop the Stranger."

"I'm on it," Terry said, climbing into the Batmobile.

The Stranger loaded a second cartload of barrels onto the waiting transport.  He did a quick count: twenty so far.  That was good.  But Blight/Powers had been quite clear he wanted everything that the Stranger could get out of Daggett Industries.  So the Stranger unloaded the cart and went back inside to get another load of ten.

He considered things.  Gotham was a nice place to roll, he decided.  He wouldn't want to live here, not with the amount of common criminals there was in the city.  Batman was here, too, and if the Stranger moved here, he'd be dealing with him almost on a daily basis.

And then there was Blight/Powers.  The Stranger knew that the guy was crazy.  Whatever had turned him into that radioactive maniac had warped his mind somehow.  If it weren't for the amount of money he was being paid, the Stranger would have skipped town a long time ago.

He looked up as he heard a footstep in the plant.  The Stranger muffled a curse and loaded a fifth barrel onto the cart.  It was only half what he was trying to get on this trip, but it would have to satisfy Powers for now.  He spun the cart around and pushed it back toward the transport.

Sharp, red projectiles flew through the air toward him.  The Stranger ducked under the first few, then jumped over the next.  The last two he blocked with his arm.  Electricity screamed up his arm.  The Stranger shouted with pain.

"Goddamn it, kid!" the Stranger yelled.  "Now you are pissing me off!"

He reached behind him and pulled his disc loose.  He threw it like a Frisbee at Batman, who dashed out of the way.  The disc curled around toward him, bouncing off chemical vats and tanks, sparks flying as it sought out the vigilante.  The Stranger flicked his wrist as the Batman went behind a particularly large vat.  The disc bounced off the side and rebounded back to the Stranger's hand.

The thief pushed for the exit again, ignoring the Batarangs that flew past his head.  He heard one cut the air behind him, and he instinctively turned, blocking the throw with his disc.  The disc flared brightly, the projectile bouncing away.

The Stranger put away the disc, flicking out the star.  He threw it, setting the hovering cart for automatic pilot.  He swung his arm powerfully, the throwing star hissing through the air.  Vats were split open as it screamed toward Batman.

The black-and-red hero rolled away as the star spanged off the floor.  It cut a gouge in a pipe and then the wall as it curved back around toward the Stranger.  The Stranger caught it, putting it away, then glanced back toward the cart.  It was almost to the transport.  One of Powers' men was there, ready to move the cart into the waiting transport.

The Stranger pulled his disc out again, pulling a canister of compressed hydrogen gas over to him.  He swung it around in a circle, then hurled it out into the open.  As he followed through, he chucked the disc at it.

The disc punched into and through the canister.  The hydrogen within exploded spectacularly, setting the place on fire.  The disc smoked as it came back around to its owner.  The Stranger caught it, then slipped through the door.

Batman looked up at the burning ceiling, diving away as a girder fell to the floor with a terrific clang.  Bruce came on the com-line.  "Forget about the fire.  The fire department's already on its way.  Go after the Stranger!"

Batman dashed out through his entrance as debris fell to block it.  He was in the car in seconds, and was quickly after the Wayne-Powers transport.  As he came up behind it, Batman blinked in disbelief as he saw that the Stranger was clinging to the side.  He clutched a magnetic grip with one hand and braced his foot against the edge of the door.  He faced backwards, his duster and scarf fluttering in the wind.

The Stranger used his free hand to pull out the cutting star.  He flicked it open, then tossed it backwards, toward one of the Batmobile's foils.  Batman dipped the car, turning it aside, losing sight of the transport for a moment.  The car rocked, the on-board computer registering light damage.  The star must have skimmed the car.  He brought the car back up, but the Stranger was no longer on the side of the transport.

A black-clad arm swung down from above, pounding on the composite steel-glass with the disc.  The Stranger leered in; he'd jumped to the car when it had dodged.  Batman jumped back in his seat, then gripped the controls with fury and sent the car in a dive.  The Stranger flattened his body to reduce the wind tearing at him.

The Stranger pounded again with the disc, then, seeing it did no damage, put it away. He took out the sword.  He jabbed toward the window again.  Batman turned the car in a barrel roll.  The Stranger slid back in surprise, the sword skittering along the edge of the windshield, but doing no damage.

Batman increased the spin, and the Stranger shouted as he was flung away.  The car was buffeted a bit as it readjusted, then slowed and turned.  The Stranger was now clinging to the side of a building in the same manner he had the transport.  He made the mock salute again, snapping his fingers on the downswing, then dropped into the darkness below them.

"He got away, Bruce," Batman said into his com-line.

"I noticed," the old man said dryly.  "Unfortunately, so did the transport."

Derek Powers was in the doctors' lab.  Most of his synthetic skin had peeled away.  His radioactive skin and black skeleton shone through as he screamed into the phone.  "Twenty-five barrels?  That's not enough!"

"Sorry, boss," the Stranger said on the other end.  "Risk's getting too big.  My advice is to handle procurement yourself."

"What?!" Blight shouted.  "You little piece of--"

"Ah-ah-ah, temper, temper, Blight," the Stranger said.  "You were doing fine by yourself before you hired me.  I did what you asked--the best I could.  I expect compensation for the extra risk."

Blight seethed, the phone starting to melt in his hand.  "All right.  You get your money.  It's being wired right now."  He looked to the secretary, who stood looking into the lab.  She nodded and typed something into her computer.

"That's all I ask for," the Stranger said.  "It was nice working for you.  By the way, don't try to hire me again."

"What?"

"As my own company president," the Stranger said smugly, "I have instigated a policy change.  I won't work for psychopaths."  The line clicked as the Stranger hung up.

Blight roared, the phone exploding into green flame in his hand.  He threw the remnants away.  He slammed his fist into a console, causing it to erupt into radioactive flames.  He breathed heavily for several moments, then turned to the doctors.  "You may begin, gentlemen."

Within an hour, Powers emerged from the lab, checking his tie in a mirror.  The secretary spoke up.  "Sir, the D-71 won't last forever.  We need to procure more."

"Make the necessary arrangements," Powers said.  "But make sure not to hire any more outsiders.  If you want something done, do it yourself!"

The next night, Batman was patrolling again.  "No sign of activity at Daggett Industries?" Bruce asked.

"Not a Stranger in sight," Batman said.

Bruce thought for a moment.  "That's not normal.  These things usually come in threes."

"You could count the train robbery," Batman pointed out.

"Never mind," Bruce said.  "Just continue your rounds."

Batman glanced out the window, then halted the car.  "Hold on a second, Bruce.  I think I see something strange."

It was the Stranger, standing atop one of the taller supports to the elevated tracks.  He was looking up at the Batmobile, as calm as can you can be, as if he was expecting himself to be spotted.

Batman dropped onto the support opposite him.  The Stranger sketched a bow.  "Hey, kid," he said.

"Batman," he corrected, flicking a Batarang into his hand.

The Stranger waved it off.  "Whatever.  You can put the toys away, kid.  I'm not here to fight.  `Sides, you think you could hit me with it?"

Batman hesitated a moment, then put the Batarang away.  He stared at the Stranger.  "What are you talking about?"

"I'm just here to tell you I'm leaving town," the thief said.  "Too many psychopaths in Gotham for my tastes.  Like that guy Blight, for instance."

"You know Blight?" Batman asked.

"He's the guy who hired me," the Stranger said.  He turned his head, looking out over the city.  "He got kind of demanding.  So I decided to cut and run.  I got my payment, and he's likely to send some goons after me if I stay here, so I'm not sticking around."

Batman folded his arms.  "Why should I let you go?"

The Stranger chuckled.  "`Cause I'm gonna tell you something.  Blight's trying to keep up his public appearances.  That's what the chemicals were for."

"Synthetic skin.  D-71."

The Stranger looked at him, impressed.  "That's right.  Huh.  I had you pegged for a stupid kid.  You're not as stupid as you look."

"I have a good teacher," Batman replied.

"Right," the Stranger said.  "At any rate, Blight's gonna try to get a shipment of D-71 in a couple of days."  He snickered.  "He's not going to hire any more guys like me.  He's doing it himself."

Batman mulled this over.  "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

The Stranger shrugged.  "You're the one who figured out what D-71 was.  It's not exactly a common thing to find.  You can probably track its movements from warehouses and such."  He glanced at his chronometer.  "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, kid, but that's my train."

The Stranger stepped off into space, landing nimbly atop a speeding train.  As it ducked into a tunnel, the Stranger mock-saluted, snapping his fingers.

"Check it out, corporate news!"  The men in the gentlemen's lounge turned to look at the news channel as the anchor cut to a reporter.

"Here, in Gotham City, Wayne-Powers CEO Derek Powers has called a meeting of the Board of Directors for some sort of major announcement," the reporter said.  "Many have speculated that it has something to do with Powers' son, Vice President Paxton Powers, who came to Gotham early yesterday.  Others have said it has to do with Derek Powers' supposedly failing health."

In a far corner of the bar, a man in a black business suit with a sharp blue tie looked up mildly, brushing a hand through his jet-black hair as he stirred his drink with the other.  He smirked to himself.  What do you know?  Looks like
he's going public after all.

Powers addressed the Board, his son Paxton, who looked like a younger version of himself, standing behind him.  He announced that he was turning over his majority shares to Paxton, thus leaving the Vice President in charge.  There were gasps around the Board, as well as in the lounge.  Some of the businessmen pulled out phones, dialing up their stockbrokers.

The black-suited man continued to watch the feed with mild interest.  His interest was piqued as a South American protestor forced his way into the Boardroom, carrying a basket of rotting fish.  He howled his testimony to Paxton's pollution of his home country, how it was killing off the fish, from which the people made their livelihood.

Powers growled, clenching a fist.  "Get him out of here," he rasped.  The skin around his eyes cracked.  Paxton started with alarm, trying to calm his father down.

But the protestor dumped the basket on the Board table, sending the rotting fish down the table.  "Look at how he's poisoned our land!" shouted the protestor.

The slime from the fish splashed on Powers' suit.  The CEO stood up with rage, more cracks appearing in his skin.  The false eyes boiled away, revealing the glowing skull beneath.  The Board reacted with surprise and fear.  Powers raised his arms to the side, smoke curling up from his suit as the radiation burned at it.  He stormed down to the protestor, grabbing him by the shirtfront.

"YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT POISON?" Powers screamed.  "I *AM* POISON!"

The businessmen in the lounge dropped their phones in shock as horror ripped through the lounge.  Only the black-suited man in the corner wasn't surprised.  He sipped his drink calmly as he watched Powers destroy the Boardroom, blowing a hole in the wall with a blast of concentrated radiation and fleeing through it.

The black-suited man smirked to himself.  I knew it wouldn't last.  You should've paid me more, Powers.  Then I might have considered helping you out.  He finished the last of his drink, then set his glass down.  Too late now.

He stood up, adjusting his suit coat and striding out of the chaos in the lounge.  The doorman looked up.  "Excuse me, sir, I know almost everyone who comes here.  But I don't think I know you.  What's your name?"

"Oh, it's not important.  I'm just a stranger."

Afterword: Thus ends "Complete Stranger."  As it stands now, I'm not planning on a sequel, but that could change.  I'm away at school now and have missed much of the beginning of Season II.  Once I catch up on my viewing and get proper inspiration, I might do a second Stranger story.  Feedback is welcome.  --Jay Winger