Hey there! I'm new to this and I hope you find my first Fanfiction at least halfway decent. So go easy on me! :)
Rated M, for Mature, because of Foul Language and (Future) Adult Content.
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman, the Dark Knight or any of the characters pertaining to the franchise.
"Where do I begin?" Alesabeth said as she tapped her cigarette lightly on the edge of a cheap aluminum ashtray.
The pudgy round man sitting across from her scooted his chair as close to the table as his girth would allow and pressed the end of his ballpoint pen onto a blank pad of paper.
"Just start from the beginning." He looked at her with annoyance on his face. She hated people like this guy. She believed that if you put up the effort to be in a career, you should at least enjoy all of the requisites that came with it. This guy looked like he couldn't give two shits about his job and that really pissed her off.
"Do you mean when it all began for me or when it all began with him?" She took a drag off her cigarette then held it nonchalantly in between her middle and fore finger.
The man sighed in aggravation. "I don't care where you choose to begin, you tell the story, I write it down. Simple as that."
Alesabeth licked her lips sneeringly. "You know what, tubs, I think I'm thirsty. Could you be a pal and fetch a gal a drink?"
The man placed his hand on his face in aggravation before standing up and shoving his chair backwards. She didn't blame him for being a little annoyed, she'd been here for almost three hours and still hadn't given them what they'd asked for. Why would she? She was a criminal and they were the cops. The pigs had locked up plenty of her friends and family so why should she go so easily? Besides, she was in no hurry. They probably had enough to lock her up until she was old and crippled so she felt no shame in making "Officer Donuts" heed her beck and call.
It'd been twenty minutes since he left and she began to wonder if someone had brought in some snacks and he made a pit stop. She patted out her cigarette butt in the pit of the ashtray, then picked up the pack of cigs they'd given her and was tapping out another when the door swung open. She expected the same guy that had been trying to make her squeal for almost the entire night but it wasn't. It was a new man and he was tall, dark and handsome. By his suit, she assumed he must be further up the ladder than "El Lard-O" and he probably wasn't going to take her shit. He shot her smile then took a seat.
"Hello," He paused as he opened a Manila folder and flipped up her picture to read her name. "Alesabeth Greely. Wanted for: burglary, theft, arson, trespassing, assault with a deadly weapon, possession of an unlicensed firearm, grand theft auto, breaking and entering and disturbing the peace." He closed the folder up and laid it down on the table.
"Are you sure you've got it all?" She said sarcastically as she lit up her fresh cigarette.
"I don't know, is there more you'd like for me know?" He laid his hands on the table and interlocked his fingers.
He had one of those faces that would make even the sturdiest criminal spill the beans but Alesabeth could see in his eyes that he was just as malicious as she was. A cop with a criminal purpose. Not one of those cops you see taking money to avert their eyes, no, this guy was the type of cop that would lure you in with kindness, get you to confess all of your deepest darkest secrets then not think twice about throwing your sorry ass in jail. This guy took his job seriously and she could tell he loved every bitter piece of it.
She gave him a crooked smile and ignored his question. "So, Tubs couldn't do the job so they sent a professional."
"If you want something done you got to do it yourself. Isn't that how the saying goes?" He leaned back in his chair as he spoke.
"Yeah," Alesabeth took a puff off her cigarette then ashed it. "Yeah, something like that."
"So," He reached into a pocket inside his jacket and pulled out a recorder. "are you going to cooperate?" He shook the recorder slightly, implying that she still needed to give up any information about him that she could.
"What choice do I have?" She said taking a puff off her cigarette.
"None, really, but the more you tell us, the less time you spend in jail and the more time you'll have with-"
"Yeah, yeah, I understand. It was rhetorical." She said, cutting him off from finishing his sentence.
He nodded. "Fair enough." He clicked on the reorder and pulled out a small green notebook and a pen. "Please state your name."
"Alesabeth Greenly." She said.
"Do you understand that you are being recorded?" He asked.
"Yes."
"And are you okay with being recorded?" He asked.
"Yes."
"Just start from the beginning." He said as he stared down at his notepad.
Alesabeth took a deep breath. "Well I guess I'll start back when I was a kid."
I grew up on the lower east side of Gotham. My mother worked at a nearby dry cleaners making minimum wage and my father, well, what father? It didn't bother me much not knowing or having him around and from what my mother told me, he was a thief and a rapist. Yep, that's right, I'm the product of one of my mother's worst lifetime events but that didn't stop her from loving me. She worked her ass off at that Korean dry cleaners for years and only received one raise. She would've quit if it wasn't for the economy being in the shitter. Jobs were hard to come by and if you had one you were thankful for making any money at all.
I remember the first time our poverty took a blow to my childhood. Some of the kids were going to some carnival in the nicer part of east side and like any other kid I wanted to go. Unfortunately, when I asked my mother for the coin she told me we had no extra funds for me to go. I hated her at first but later on I realized it wasn't her fault but the stupid dry cleaners where she worked. Then I realized it wasn't their fault either. It was this shitty city and it's lack of attention to those in the lower class. What can you do? Nothing. We were ants and those political assholes were the kids with the magnifying glasses torturing us everyday. You just prayed the sun didn't burn you too bad when woke up every morning.
The first time I stole was the first day I realized my purpose in life. We were at our local supermarket and they had one of those candy bins filled plum full with every type of candy you could imagine. I didn't even bother asking my mom if we could afford it this time, I just went over, picked out my favorite candy, made sure no one was looking and slipped it into the pocket of my ratty old shorts. I felt a rush of adrenaline like I had never felt before. The feel of the candy against my leg felt like a scab, you just wanted to pick at it until it came off. It was there and I wanted it gone.
After we left the store and went back to our one bedroom apartment, I went into the bathroom and pulled out the stolen piece of candy. It felt like I was holding a million dollars in my hand. Everything about it was exhilarating, the weight of it in my palm, the crinkle of the wrapper and the sweet smell that seeped out through the flap that sealed it was like every Christmas morning combined into one. I quickly unwrapped it and devoured it. I learned that day that the best things in life aren't free, but they could be.
After that, it just escalated. From pieces of candy, to bags of candy, to boxes of candy, to candy stores and candy warehouses. All of it was mine for the taking and I took it, every damn piece of it. Over the years, I had become pretty nifty with cracking open locks and safes. I pretty much taught myself from experience, a few instruction manuals and books at the library. You'd be surprised how many books there are at the public library that teach you how to tap tumblers. As it turns out, I had a knack for breaking and entering and word of my skill had reached some pretty filthy ears. Crime bosses were knocking at my door wanting me to join their forces. I had declined a lot of them but when my cousin, David, showed up at my door asking for my help, how could I turn him down? He was family and I figured what the hell, I could use whatever benefits came from these jobs. TVs, clothes, cash, whatever.
Turned out, David and his "friends" weren't just stealing a few knick knacks. The first job he took me on was at some high end jewelry store. That was all fine and dandy with me. Jewelry stores were nothing compared to some of the warehouses I'd broken into in the past. Nah, it wasn't the type of store, it was where the store was. You see, in lower east side, or any other shit neighborhood, stores had pretty much given up on the quality of alarms they put in. I'm sure it wasn't because they didn't want the best of the best but they tend to get pretty pricey. You throw a brick through the window, you set off no alarm because the store owner could only afford a door alarm. Merchandise free for the taking. Now, upscale stores, they can afford all the bells and whistles, no pun intended.
I was pretty skeptical but David assured me the store had no cameras, just door and window alarms. Fine. Get in, get out. I like my jobs like I like my men, quick and fast. I popped the lock and as soon as the door opened the alarm went off. So I made a beeline for the cases while David tried to scrounge for a safe. Which was either his first or second mistake because little did I know, David had lied and there were cameras everywhere. Once I realized it, it was too late, so I just grabbed what I could and bailed hard. I even left my ignorant cousin behind. I would've went straight home and said, "Fuck that guy," but he was my cousin and I was more interested in giving him an ear full.
Hours later, he still hadn't showed at our rendezvous. Dumb ass stayed too long and got busted. What can you do? Nothing, but now I was officially a wanted woman which wasn't good. The cops went to my mom's house and all my friends and family so I had no where to go. I decided I had nothing to lose and went back to David's "friends".
They immediately wanted the jewelry I had rightfully stolen. I was hesitant at first but I had no place to go, no where to hide and no one to turn to so I decided what the hell. Turns out, Lady Luck was on my side and my profitable loot and skills with locks impressed the leader or the boss or whatever you want to call him. So in exchange for my "professional" skills I got to stay with him. It wasn't the greatest place but there was a bed and there were no cops. It was the freaking Hilton compared to everything else.
So for five years I lived that way. I was eight when I stole my first piece of candy, sixteen when David got caught and when I was twenty one I was considered the best of the best. Of course I got a lot of beef because I was a woman but shrugging off dirty men is like picking a lock, you hit the right tumbler and they crack open. Needless to say, I've given my fair share of knees to the balls and I didn't take shit from anyone.
My life was great, I was doing what I loved while getting a surplus of cash and merchandise for it. It was all milk and honey except for missing my mother. I'd sent messengers to tell her I was doing fine and that I missed her but everytime they came back, they said she had nothing to say. I wasn't sure if she was ashamed that her daughter was now one of Gotham's best lock and safe crackers or if she was just too afraid of me to even let me know that she still existed. Even today, I couldn't tell you how my mother's doing because she still hasn't sent a message back. I did my fair share of crying over it so no need to do it again. Once a bridge is burned, that's it, you're better off gathering what you can from it and use it to fuel the next one you burn down. That's the motto I live by, anyway.
I'm sure by now you're wondering about Batman. He was a chump, a fool, a crazy guy that tried to stop crime with a fancy outfit. At least that's how I thought of him. A lot of my boss' boys had been caught by him but not me. I had managed to run faster, steal faster and avoid him at all costs. That's what I believed at first anyway. That was until I began to notice on several jobs when I had seen him that he was just bypassing me. He was letting me get away. Not until later did I realize that he was doing it on purpose but that part of the story comes later.
So where did things get complicated with me and the Batman? Well I guess you'd have to listen to how I came to know him, Gotham's number one menace. My boss had sent me, his perfectly sharpened tool, out on a bank job. I'd done plenty of bank jobs and at this bank before. They'd recently installed a new vault so I had been studying up on it for weeks and knew exactly how to crack it open and the tools and time I'd need. Getting into the bank was easy but once I got to the vault, now that was a different story.