"I'm onto him. Heading West down Main Street." The walkie-talkie was a welcome weight in the girl's hand, and helped her keep her balance as she sprinted flat-out after one of the Joker's goons.
This time, I've got you.
He lurched into a darkened alleyway and she followed seconds later, stumbling into tan outstretched arm and skidding to a stop on the ground. The walkie-talkie clattered across the floor, useless.
She grunted and threw herself to her feet, just in time to dodge a lethal kick and return one of her own. The goon groaned in pain and hit the floor with a hard thump, out cold.
This isn't the goon I was chasing...
She heard footsteps near the opening of the alleyway and smiled as her backup arrived, red in the face and out of breath. He slouched over, hands on his knees, breathing heavily.
"Hey Ken, it's about time you showed up." She waved her hand in a friendly gesture.
"It's not my fault you run so damn fast. What kind of steroids are you on, anyway?" The male officer gasped.
"My kind." She retorted, now waving her hand dismissively, "Anyways, this isn't the goon we were chasing. Seems this one was here to distract us while the other escaped. I'm not sure why though..."
Ken chose this moment to straighten up, and he gazed over at her for a split second, before lunging forward with eyes widened in panic, "Odelle!"
She turned just in time to see the goon she was chasing go for her with a broken pipe.
And then disappear in a rustling of black fabric.
There were sounds of a struggle for a few seconds, and then the goon was prone on the dirty floor, face smashed into a muddy puddle and cursing at the figure of the bat above him.
"You're late." Odelle let out the breath she didn't realise she was holding, "I got the other one over here." She said, gently poking the goon she floored with her boot, "You can thank me now or later, whichever's best for you."
Batman didn't answer her, just picked up the goons, and left in a flurry of darkness.
"You're welcome, you ass."
The first time Odelle met the Batman was a year ago, when she was poring over a crime scene that had the Joker written all over it. They were both looking for clues, and Odelle thought it'd be more beneficial for both parties if they worked together. Unfortunately, that was also the first time she encountered the Batman's icy demeanour and stubbornness towards working alone. Nevertheless, Odelle strived to help him as much as possible, no matter how much he resented it. In the end, they had captured the Joker together.
The guy might not have liked the idea of her helping, but Odelle had always been interested in lowering the crime rate, and going with the Batman seemed to be the most efficient option.
She later discovered that it was also the most troublesome option, as she had to deal with idiotic goons and thugs that were convinced that she had some romantic connection with the Bat.
Nice try, she always thought, minutes after he himself arrived to introduce their faces to the ground.
She had mixed feelings when it come to the Bat. She couldn't deny that throughout their many meetings, no matter how short and silent they were, she had developed some semblance of attraction to the Batman. Was it the mystery of the mask? She didn't think so. Maybe it was the way he was risking himself for justice, to protect Gotham, or how strong he looked in that Kevlar. Despite the mask, she knew there was a person behind it, and she wouldn't mind meeting that person one day, to see what struggles and nightmares had caused him to take the guise of the Batman to protect something that was obviously dear to him.
Of course she was a bit insulted that she wasn't given any acknowledgement whatsoever; it's not like everyone in the Gotham PD was striving to help him. Hell, it wasn't like there were any friendlies in the Gotham PD at all anymore; apart from Comissioner Gordon, herself and most probably Ken, maybe a few others.
Odelle dejectedly let herself into her one bedroom apartment, kicking the front door closed behind her and flicking the latch on without sparing a glance to it. She slumped into her lounge, tossing her keys into a white basket sitting alone on the coffee table. She couldn't even be bothered celebrating when they went in first try.
She sighed, moving to her bedroom and shrugging her suit jacket off, throwing it to the floor followed by her blouse and slacks, making a messy pile on the carpeted ground.
Trust the police department to let one of the thugs escape practically twenty minutes after they were delivered to the front doorstep.
Odelle decided she'd had enough for one day. For every one step forward, Gotham took two steps back, no matter how much people suffered, no matter how many good people there were, no matter how much Odelle tried to help. None of it ever seemed to work, and it was eating away at her.
She rummaged through her closet for her joggers and white tee, planning on going for a run. All of the thoughts swirling around in her head were too much, and she needed to clear her head.
But she carried on thinking. If the department had some more funding, then maybe they'd have some decently reinforced cells that would prevent small-fry like that goon from escaping. Maybe they'd have more of a chance against Gotham's Underworld. After all, it all seemed to revolve around money anyway.
But what do we have? Pompous asses like Bruce Wayne blowing money on Russian ballerinas and prep parties. If he spared a small sum of money, we could have done so much more last year, when we lost Harvey Dent and Rachel Dawes. We might have been able to save them, plus the dozens of other lives that went to waste.
Odelle zipped her hoodie up, putting earphones in but not turning music on; she liked to give people the impression she was just an innocent runner with nowhere to store useful tidbits of slipped out info, when she was in fact listening to every word. She also left the earphones connected to a two-way communicator between herself and Comissioner Gordon. It was their way of shifting information from him to her, since she knew he was close with the Bat, and he knew that all she wanted to do was help. Because it was two-way, Gordon could update her on events and issues, to which Odelle would respond to accordingly. Or he'd just have a nice chat with her when he was on his break. Odelle could tell Gordon what she was hearing on her rounds. In the end, it all worked out, because it would just seem like she was a jogger singing along to some song.
She pulled her hood up to keep her ears warm and left her apartment for the bitter cold of Gotham City's evening. She made a mental note to keep an eye out for the escaped goon in the night.
Her feet hit the ground with a steady and sure rhythm, her breath coming in short, concentrated bursts. She focused ahead, to the end of the street, and she felt free. Her head was clear, and she felt like she could keep running. Just keep going; leave Gotham behind for a better place, a better life.
She turned at the corner of the street. She could never do that. She would never fall to the level of the many people who had abandoned Gotham. She was here to stay, and if she was took out, which was looking like it'd be sooner rather than later, she'd be sure to take down as much of the crime syndicate with her as she could.
With her run at a level pace, she clicked onto the communicator, "Hey Gordon, any more info on that escaped goon?" She huffed.
It took a while longer than normal for a response; "He didn't escape." Was the solemn and crackled reply.
"Huh? What do you mean he didn't escape? I was there this afternoon, Gordon. I saw the empty cell with my own eyes."
Another lengthy pause, "I mean that he was released, Odelle."
Odelle stopped running, and started trying to level her breathing out, "Come again?"
"He was let out of his cell. Evidence left behind suggested that they're heading for either you or the Batman. Assuming that they don't know the Batman's location, I'd say they're heading for you."
Odelle was in shock, "Wait...So all of this was planned?" She started a brisk walk back in the direction of her apartment. She was about five minutes away.
"I didn't say that, but it seems like it."
"Gordon...You said 'They'. Who sprung him Gordon? Who's coming after me?" Odelle tried to practice calm, but with someone in the squad teaming up with the goon, she might not have the skills to stop the pair of them.
"We don't know."
She was about two minutes away from her apartment now. The sidewalk was poorly lit, sodium-orange lights doing nothing to permeate the darkness of the night.
A man stepped out of the alleyway a few feet ahead of her.
"You're the only one with this information, right?" Odelle asked. The guy looked flustered. He turned quickly, and when he saw her his face brightened somewhat and he began briskly walking towards her. She strode to meet him, her step sure, but her insides twisted with the blunt feeling of being suspicious.
"Yes...Why?... Odelle, who is it?... Odelle!"
Odelle smiled at Ken, "Jeez, what are you? An old man?" She teased his shortness of breath unsurely.
Ken didn't look happy. He frowned and moved closer to her, "You need to come with me, Odelle. That goon didn't escape, he was let go, and said he was coming for you." Ken's hand grabbed her arm and she froze.
Her free hand discreetly moved to the communicator button. Gordon's panicking demands ceased as her finger put pressure on it. But it was too late. Ken's eyes slipped to her fingers and the communicator and narrowed.
"It's Ken." She managed to say, before the device was ripped from her ears and pocket by Ken. He punched her harshly in the ribs and she dropped to the floor gasping, but ignored the pain. She head butted him in the knee, sending him to the floor, and leapt to her feet, sprinting in the direction of her apartment. She was tripped by another person, and dragged across the gravel into the alleyway Ken had previously emerged from.
She screeched and yelled, but it was a quiet neighbourhood, the middle of the night, and no one was around. She kicked, spit and fought to get herself out of the goon's grip, but Ken had recovered and descended on her, pinning her useful limbs to her body. She glared at him and went for another headbutt, this time to the face, but he flinched away and slapped her across the face hard enough so that she saw stars. She spat blood onto the alleyway floor as her face stung and ached. The goon tied her hands to her feet and left her kneeling on the ground, her back arched uncomfortably.
Ken only laughed; an unhinged on the edge sound, and hissed at her, "This is how you treat your partner, huh?" He asked, grabbing her by the hair and dragging her face close to his. She glared at him, silent. She wondered if she was in any shape to grab the switch she kept down her joggers. Ken let her go swiftly and her head throbbed where he'd grabbed her hair, causing her head to drop tiredly "Oh I'm so sorry Odelle. I didn't mean to hurt you." His hands went to her cheeks and rubbed them softly. She fought the urge to puke on the guy and flinched, "It's just that, my boss, my uh...real boss, thinks it's time to take revenge on those who got him in Arkham a year ago. Now, can we remember who that was, huh?"
Odelle tried to look away and Ken's grasp became violent again, jerking her head back so that she held eye contact with him, "Oh yeah, it was the Bat! And unfortunately, it was you as well. By capturing you, the Batman will come flying in to ah... save you, and we've got uh... two bats with one stoneah!" He descended into another fit of giggles, "And do you want to know what the best part is? Odelle?" She yanked her head away again, only to have it persistently brought back again, this time with the appearance of a knife in her peripheral vision. "Huh, look at me, Odelle, come on, I won't bite. Well unless you ah... want me to." His expression darkened, followed by his chuckling.
"The best part is that I... am my own boss!" He howled at some hidden joke that Odelle had no interest or theory in. But she was starting to get seriously unnerved. His voice wasn't Ken's anymore, but it was eerily familiar.
Where the hell is Batman when I need him?
Ken stopped laughing and looked at her blandly, "You don't get it?" Then, he looked like he had a revelation, "Ah, I've forgotten...these..." He wheezed, running the knife from one side of his face to another. With the hand that wasn't holding the knife, he peeled a makeup strip off each of his cheeks.
To reveal two spidery scars that formed a sadistically permanent grin carved across his face.
The Joker looked odd without his makeup, but it was without a doubt the psycho himself. He took in her impassive expression, but saw the shock and fear in her eyes, and was satisfied. He cackled again, "You're fun. I like you." He moved closer to her again, invading her personal space. His proximity didn't prevent her from seeing the dark shadow swoop into the alley and take out the goon silently, who had resigned himself to watching the alley entrance.
Idiot, like he'd use a normal entrance.
"Perhaps when this is all over, I'll ah...keep you...All to myself." The Joker finished.
"When this is over, you'll be back where you belong. Arkham." Odelle muttered at him. He glared and went to strike her with the knife, but his hand was caught mid-attack, and he was thrown away from her by none other than the Batman, cackling all the way.
Something's wrong. This is too easy.
"What did I tell you boys? The Bat and his princess, both here for our little get together!" The Joker bellowed, and hordes of goons flooded the alley from both sides. Odelle lurched into action immediately, reaching for the switch in her joggers and flicking it open, the plastic binding her hands and feet snapping instantaneously. She leaped to her feet and raced towards where she last saw the Batman; all that was there was a pile of goons punching into the tower they had made of themselves on top of Batman. She charged into the pile, knocking two off at a time until they had all dispersed and retreated. She found herself back to back with the Bat, both of them continuously circling, waiting for the first goon to attack.
Bruce wanted so badly to ask Odelle if she was okay, just to make sure that she wasn't harmed in any way. But that would completely defeat the object of his silence for the past year towards her. He was trying to protect her with it, but obviously, it hadn't gotten them anywhere at all. Here she was, captured by the Joker purely because she helped him. This was why he worked alone. Yes, he knew she could fight. Damn, he'd seen her move and he liked it. But she wasn't protected by a wall of Kevlar armour.
"Are you okay?" Odelle's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife through butter, and he stopped the shock from seeping onto his face.
She wasn't expecting a response.
"Yes."
She jumped against him after he spoke and he smirked slightly.
Then, the first goon attacked.
Both let the fighter in them out, and with a series of kicks, punches, warnings, ducking, diving and Bruce throwing Odelle at a group of the goons after a short but intimidating conversation on Odelle's part, all of the goons were easily defeated.
The Joker did what he always did best, attempted to run. As Odelle sprinted after him without hesitation without Bruce, he suddenly whirled, a gun in his hand. The gunshot was ear-shattering to Odelle, but she had been pushed over at last-minute, a batarang slamming into the Joker and knocking him unconscious.
She landed on the concrete painfully, a black weight upon her. But other than the force of impact, she felt no pain. She groaned and shifted, her body wracked with pain. Sitting up, she tried to move the Batman off her as gently as possible. She laid him on his back. He wasn't moving; he was tense and coiled with pain, like an intimidated snake. Then she saw a deep red liquid seeping from between two plates of the Kevlar armour.
He had been shot.
Her face set in determination, she fumbled about for her lost communicator, telling Gordon to get the police down to the alley. She ripped a length of her white tee off and wrapped it around the gunshot to apply more pressure to the wound, mentally thanking that she decided to bring her hoody out to cover up her lack of clothing. Then, she helped the Batman sit up and eventually get to his feet.
"Come on, my apartment's not far from here." She whispered as they staggered out of the alleyway.
Bruce watched her with tired eyes as they stumbled through the back roads to her apartment.
"Thank you Odelle." The communicator crackled to life in her hand, making her jump slightly.
"What for, Gordon?" She asked.
"You saved him. And you saved the city from another psychopath once again."
"All in a day's work. Now, I'm sorry Gordon, but I have a bleeding bat to attend to. I haven't saved him yet."
"Of course."
Odelle placed the communicator down on the coffee table and wandered into her bedroom, where the Batman lay sprawled across her bed, her sheets stained red with blood and his figure looking too big for the room.
She made her way over with the med kit. It had literally been five minutes since they had reached the apartment, and she needed to get the bullet out of his wound. But to do that, she'd have to undress him.
"I'll need you to take your armour off. I need to tend your wound." She whispered, so as not to startle him. She reached to start with his mask, but he caught her wrist in a strong grip, his eyes sending the signal, No.
She nodded, frowning, "Okay, be that way. You take off your damn armour yourself, cover your face with a pillow once you're done and I won't move it to look. I'll be back in five minutes."
She left the room, and true to her word, returned in five minutes. The armour was piled haphazardly on the floor of her bedroom and lo and behold, there was a pillow over the Bat's face. She almost giggled at the sight, but remembered the situation and prevented it, getting straight into the treatment of his right shoulder.
"Unfortunately I don't have any time for pain meds for you, so you'll have to grin and bear it, I'm afraid." She warned, before plunging her tweezers into the wound to search for the bullet. His hand shot to her free hand and grasped it tightly; he hissed into the pillow, "Nearly got it..." She soothed. When she had the bullet out, his grip became gentle but didn't leave her hand. "I'll need my hand back if I'm going to wrap your injury."
He let her hand go and she cleaned and wrapped the wound correctly. She dug out an old tee and a pair of joggers from her ex and tossed them to him. "I won't come back in tonight, so rest up and don't panic about me finding out your identity ." She said, before leaving the room.
Bruce swung his legs over the side of the bed, and groaned at the aching that was present all over his body. He hadn't taken a beating like that for a while.
"How are you faring, Master Wayne?" Alfred's voice rang clear through the com device in the Kevlar. He detached it and clicked the button.
"I'm fine Alfred. Odelle patched me up pretty good."
"Well then, that girl has done wonders for you this past year."
"That girl has been getting in my way. If she wasn't there last night then I wouldn't have been beaten so badly."
"If that girl wasn't there last night, you'd be dead. Now I think you should appreciate her a bit more, Master Wayne, don't you agree?"
With that, his butler was gone.
Bruce sighed in agitation. He supposed Alfred was right. It's not like he even minded it when she helped him really. It was a nice feeling of...companionship, and he couldn't deny he was attracted to the girl.
His glance met the nightstand, and a small booklet that rest upon it. It looked like a mission statement of some sorts...
The Rich, The Helpful, The Helpless
By Odelle McCoy
He flicked the cover open, and began to read.
'... and yet Gotham finds itself stuck with useless billionaires that wouldn't lift a finger to swat a fly away. Namely, Bruce Wayne, self-indulgent billionare, flamboyantly playing all day with exotic women and foreign beverages. Wasting money on useless parties and gatherings rather than focusing on what needs the money. Charities; the Homeless fund, the School rebuilding committee, even the goddamn Rachel Dawes Foundation...'
The words shocked him, hurt him, yet amused him. Did Odelle really think so lowly of Bruce Wayne? He smirked. How would she react if she knew that the figure of justice that she was so enamoured with was the very same person? Would she still be attracted to him?
He hoped so.
Well, time to drop a bomb.
In the morning, the Bat was gone. All of his armour and all of his weapons were gone as well as the clothes she had lent him. The sheets were still bloody, the only evidence of him being there. Nothing else was out-of-place, apart from her mission statement. Her eyes widened.
He had read it!
Rascal. No one else knows what I wrote in there.
She sighed and decided to start making a move on disposing the sheets. It was still early in the morning so no one would be about yet, and she could get Gordon to pull a few strings about the appearance of bloody sheets around the dump area.
Once they were cleared up she decided to treat herself to a long, relaxing shower. She had flaked out instantly when she left her room, and she was still caked in mud and blood from the previous night's events.
The steaming hot water was a welcome distraction to her pain. They soothed her muscles, and burned her bruises, but it was a nice kind of burning.
She left the shower to a message from Gordon.
'Enjoy your day off while you can. You'll never guess who's throwing a party tonight. -G.'
'Do I even need to guess?' She replied.
'No, you're his number one fan, right? He asked your presence there as well. - G'
'Bruce Wayne already has bodyguards.'
'He wants you there as a guest. -G'
Oh.
Oh, exactly. Odelle was shocked beyond words. Bruce Wayne didn't even know she existed! Perhaps from her involvement in the attempt to rescue Rachel Dawes, but nothing else, surely.
'Go, have fun, enjoy yourself. You sure deserve it. The ticket should have been posted this morning, along with a package. No buts, that's an order. -G'
Odelle sighed in defeat, answered Gordon and ventured to her apartment's mailbox, where, sure enough, was an expensive looking envelope and package waiting for her.
In the package was a deep green dress that flattered her chestnut hair and brought out her deep brown eyes grandly.
By 6 PM She had curled her hair and let it cascade down one side of her chest and shoulder, leaving her other half tantalizingly bare. She had to admit Bruce Wayne had great taste in dresses, but realised that he obviously would do, considering how many he would have bought for other women.
With that thought, she shuddered and frowned, feeling as though the very dress she was wearing had been worn by others. But, she decided to keep the expensive cloth on due to the semblance of respect she knew she had to show.
She applied a little makeup, more so to the area that had slightly bruised from the Joker's strike, and was happy when she managed to cover it up.
Grabbing her clutch and the invitation, she left the apartment, locking it behind her.
"Obviously he's late to his own party, and when he does arrive, it's in the loudest way possible." Odelle muttered unhappily, glowering at the still full champagne glass in her hand.
"Any other way would simply be alien, my dear." Alfred Pennyworth's English accent instantly boosted her mood. She had talked to the butler many times throughout the hour the gaggle of party guests had been waiting for their esteemed host. Out of all of them, Alfred seemed like the only self-respecting person present, and he seemed like the only person willing to talk to Odelle anyways.
She had caught a few lusty glances here and there, but she rebuked them all with venemous glares.
I wonder if I've glared at the Bat...Nah.
The chopper had finally landed on the enormous balcony surrounding the glass-fronted penthouse, and the door swung open to reveal a smartly dressed Bruce Wayne.
He stepped gracefully out of the chopper, but Odelle noticed his leg twitch a little as he put his weight on it.
Is he...hurt? Probably had to dress himself, since Alfred's here, and injured himself in the process.
Seconds later, an exotic woman appeared behind him, exiting the helicopter and hanging herself off his left arm like she was the Queen.
Odelle nearly vomited, but held it in, for Alfred's sake.
As Wayne sauntered into the penthouse, he was greeted by applause, and as Odelle half-heartedly clapped, she noticed something.
He's favouring his right side and shoulder. He really has hurt himself. Probably extreme sports or something, ugh.
Unusually, Bruce handed off the girl at the door and made his way up to a podium that was set up at the front of the huge room everybody was gathered in. It was strange as Bruce normally said a word or two when he arrived, but nothing like this had ever happened. As he stood at the podium, analysing papers, Odelle had to admit that the man was handsome, but then she remembered all the scandals from the past and took her words straight back.
He coughed slightly, and the chatter in the room ceased; all attention was on him.
"First off, I'd like to welcome you all this evening. It's nice to see that you're all still standing." There was a chorus of laughter, to which Odelle rolled her eyes.
"Next, I'd like to talk about why we're all here tonight. The Rich, The Helpful, The Helpless. That's what I'd like to talk about."
Odelle's world came to a halt. What?
"For a year now, I've seen that the things I do are foolish. I splurge money on useless trips, women, parties and booze," More laughter, but Odelle didn't take it on. She was hanging off every word that was leaving Bruce Wayne's mouth.
What...how could he possibly...what's going on?
"I've noticed that these are useless.. A waste of money. It's not helping anyone, apart from myself. And there is only one person who has made me realise that, and that one person has become more important to me than I ever wanted them to be."
Odelle was reeling from shock. It had to be a fluke, right? Anyone could come up with those words in that order, especially when attributed to Gotham of all places.
"And so tonight we're here for a fundraiser, to give to those who need it and to stop giving to those who don't; just for one night. To make the difference we can make in the best way that we can. I'm starting it off with a monthly donation of five million dollars to charities; the Homeless Fund, the School Rebuilding Committee, the Rachel Dawes Foundation."
There was a moment of saddened pause for Rachel.
"I'm doing this to help Gotham. What are you doing?" He finished, leaving the podium, and the room stood quiet in shocked amazement.
After a few seconds, intense applause rang out, but Odelle felt like she was suffocating, and everything felt claustrophobic all of a sudden. She decided to head away from the crowd, but she couldn't get towards the exit as it was blocked by a mass of people still entering the room.
She headed the opposite way, and ended up in a quiet and empty hallway. She leaned against a door and sucked in a breath.
"My God..." She muttered, blushing, both from exertion and embarrassment.
Bruce Wayne...He's...
The door was yanked open behind her, and a pair of arms pulled her into the darkness.
A hand covered her mouth before she could yell and a light flickered on in the room. It was a bedroom, and a very nice one at that. Her assailant let her go, and she turned slowly.
There stood Bruce Wayne in all of his billionaire glory, smirking contentedly.
Odelle started walking towards him angrily. She swiped for him, but he caught her wrist, bringing her closer to him. "You absolute assho-mmmff!"
He was kissing her. He was kissing her, and she didn't mind it.
In fact, her hands were around his neck, her fingers threading through his formerly neat hair and she was kissing him back as forcefully as he was kissing her. He backed her up against the wall and pinned her there, his hands resting at her hips, their bodies joined. She tugged on his hair a little and he pulled back with a soft growl. The duo was panting softly, Odelle looking into Bruce's eyes, searching for answers.
"So, Batman, huh?" She began.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." He teased, smiling at her.
Odelle's heart fluttered a little, "Well I guess I'll have to just torture you until you do." She whispered, pecking him on the lips quickly.
"I don't mind that at all." He answered.
So there it is! My first attempt at writing something for The Dark Knight Trilogy. I think it turned out alright, do you? I hoped I got the Joker and Bruce in character aha. This was a oneshot trade on Quizilla, which I'm currently taking more of, so if you're interested, PM me. If you're on Quizilla, my username is animeangel0987. I really enjoyed writing this, and I think it's my longest oneshot yet! Hope you liked, and thank you for reading! Reviews are welcome, in order for me to improve! :)
