Spidey & Speedy - Central City Rush

Epilogue - I Really Should Change That To "Petty Dabbler"

Out of the moonlit surf walked a tall, dark, and handsome man. If that didn't sound like the beginnings of the unholy bastard child of a harlequin romance and a Bond movie, the man on the beach wasn't a supernatural expert.

Tall, Dark, and Handsome caught sight of his watcher and stormed over to him, pulling out a silver trident and holding it within centimeters of his throat. "Who are you?" he asked in a deep, rumbling voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm supposed to be in Starling City, mate, but when I heard Atlanteans were coming to Bludhaven, I couldn't resist."

Tall, Dark, and Handsome relaxed, pulling his trident away from the other man. "You heard wrong, then. It's 'Atlantean.' Singular."

"Tomato, to-mah-to." The man held out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Atlantean. I'm John Constantine." Met with a cocked eyebrow, Constantine added, "You've heard of me, yeah?"

"You could say that." The Atlantean shook Constantine's hand. "They call me 'Aquaman.'"

"Were you expecting someone bigger and badder than little old me?" Constantine asked. "Let me tell you, I know an angel who's on a bit of an apocalyptic kick of late-"

"I'm not interested in angels," said Aquaman. "Unless they're a threat to sea life?"

"Perhaps not," Constantine said, shaking his head. "Humans, though...angels seem to have a real hard-on for us."

Aquaman pursed his lips. "You said I'm in Bludhaven?"

"Yeah...why?"

"Dammit, I'm off course," Aquaman groaned. "I was supposed to be in Gotham."

"You're only about ten, fifteen miles off-"

Aquaman held up his hand. "That's all right. I know where I'm going now."

Constantine tucked his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat. "And I must be on my way myself - all the way to Washington State. Practically Canada. But hey, we may see each other again sometime."

Aquaman scoffed. "Unless you grow gills, or turn into a shark, I wouldn't count on it."

"A shark? Really?" Constantine snickered. "I thought my spirit animal would more likely be a remora."

"Why? You fancy yourself a cleaner for the spiritual sharks?"

"Something like that. It's my job, see. I clean the scum off this hell-infested planet." With his northern English accent, "scum" came out more like "scoom."

"Are you any good at your job?" asked Aquaman.

"Good enough to have my own business cards," Constantine said. "All I'd need is an ad in the Chicago Yellow Pages and I'd be Harry Dresden's biggest competitor." He took one hand out of his pocket to hand out one such business card.

Aquaman examined it skeptically. "'Master of the Dark Arts...?'"

"I really should change that to 'Petty Dabbler,'" Constantine said. "I hate to put on airs."

Pocketing the card, Aquaman said, "I have no idea what I've signed up for by taking this, do I?"

"If you're not confused," Constantine said, turning around and stalking away across the sand to a waiting Nissan Sentra rental, "you're not paying attention!"