The nightclub was empty as the NightHunter set the last of his traps, linked them to the large red button by his foot, and stood up, shaking his fist as he monologued. "The Defiant Detective runs a such Mickey Mouse operation, you'd think he was Bugs Bunny." He sneered to thin air and, if he was right, to waiting lawyers. The writer couldn't do a thing to stop him. One lawsuit and he was invincible. There was still no sign of the detective and he took a breath. "What's he doing, stopped for drinks with Donald and Daffy Duck?" He sneered. If the Detective wasn't here yet then...

He felt the evil cackle rise, bubbling out of his throat and filling the empty room. Victorious at last! The lawyers would shut down the writer, and without the writer, the Defiant Detective had no protection from him; He, the NightHunter could win!

The slow clap cut him off mid-cackle. Better never than late, but NightHunter would just have to try harder. he was so close, he could feel it. He smirked, looking round towards where the Detective...wasn't waiting.

On the nightclub stage a woman was draped across the piano. Red hair, redder dress, and legs that went all the way up. Her hands met slowly once again, doing so very interesting things to her very interesting form. He realised belatedly that he was gaping and swallowed hard.

"And who are you?" he said, trying to be charming. "A new hero?"

"No, just the opening act," she said, unabashed, blinking long-lashed eyes.

"Well the curtain's coming down tonight," NightHunter said. "Sorry doll, this place won't be around."

"Well that's a shame, because I just signed a six-week contract."

"The lawyers will take that apart." it didn't matter who, just that someone would.

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"Warner or Disney?" she purred, daring to name the names.

"I invoked both." He walked towards the piano, waiting for her to flinch.

"We know," she said, languidly, stretching across the piano. He couldn't take his eyes off her. "Just so the writer would drop the hero's plot armour."

"And you're the bribe?" NightHunter grinned. The writer must be getting desperate, and he'd admit, she was a very nice bribe.

"No, I'm part of the new cast." She rolled off the piano, to her feet in one fluid movement. Her hand flipped his tie back over his shoulder as she leant close. "You see, you did draw their attention, and the powers that be had a little discussion over the best way to handle," her hand ran down his shirt and he swallowed, "a problem like you."

"Should it be their lawyers," she murmured, sashaying away to rest a hand on the piano, "or perhaps the other lawyers?"

"Both." He grinned and she glanced at him sidelong.

"But you mentioned them both the exact same number of times." Her fingers walked down the piano keys, sounding the notes one at a time, "and when you do that there is only one thing that can happen."

"An injunction?" he said, suddenly concerned.

"No," she sighed, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "A new cast."

"A new hero? They couldn't have agreed." That was a worry, but he'd have to fare better in any genre but this one. "What did they do, send some hardboiled PI?"

"No," she said, wistfully, "Just my husband."

"What is he, some kind of super-soldier?"

"No, just a guy."

"Then why is a girl like you with him?"

"He makes me laugh." She turned, strutting away across the stage, one glance back over her shoulder from under the blue-tinged lids. "Roger dear?"

NightHunter turned, expecting an attack. The red dungarees weren't the first thing that caught his eye, or the yellow bowtie. It was the five-foot-tall white rabbit wearing them, stalking forward as it rolled up its sleeves, tripped over, crashed through two tables, and landed flailing - straight on the red button.

As the floor fell out from out from under him, all her heard was:

"Well darn."