This fic makes numerous references to the back story found in the first series of Martha fics I wrote. If you care, you can find that under "The Martha Wayne Chronicles" on my stories page.
Yes, she's probably a Mary Sue. This earned some complaints the first time around, so here's a warning to people who might find it annoying and wish to complain: Just click the back button on your browser right now and go back the way you came.
Thanks to Joe for helping me work out some of the plotholes. Also, thanks to Ranger and Muse who had to suffer through the past few days of my being in obsessive fic mode.
End of introduction. Thank you.
Day Three
"You've gone far enough." The voice the Dark Knight was addressing her in was colder than it had been in a long time. Surveying the still-smouldering destruction that had only yesterday been a small military research facility a few miles outside of Gotham City, Desdemona couldn't quite blame him.
Mid-climb on a high fence surrounding the property, she didn't have to look over her shoulder to know that he was a scant few feet behind her, hidden in the shadows of the forest. She'd never make it over the top, and he seemed in a mood to ensure that she'd regret it if she tried. Letting go of the fence, she dropped to the ground, her hands raised slightly, and turned to face him. It was a somewhat comical gesture, coming from her.
"Shouldn't have returned to the scene of the crime, huh?" The lengthy, silent glower was more effective on her than any interrogation would have been, and he well knew it. What he didn't know was that the young woman had reached her breaking point twenty-four hours ago. "I… I didn't mean for things to go this far," she whispered.
"Hnh," came the not-amused, skeptical reply. Batman shifted forward, a stray beam of moonlight through the trees glinting off the wire substance of the bolas in his hand.
"What he means to say," came a younger voice from the other side of the fence, "Is that the whole Vulcan Nerve-Grip act on the sidekick wasn't a point in your favor." Robin paused, then more formally said, "The original tapes are missing, too."
"Of course they are," she muttered over her shoulder.
"And likely erased by now," Batman finished, stalking forwards another step.
Desdemona nodded in mute agreement, and let a small bauble drop from her fingertips. There was a misdirecting hiss of smoke before it exploded with a blinding flash of light. She knew the polarized lenses of their masks would neutralize the worst of it, but she was hoping it would buy her a few moments head-start, and that was all she needed.
Not that running would do her any good.
Not that she had anywhere to run.