(Author's Note: For those of you who don't who the Music Meister is, he's a villain from the Batman: Brave and Bold cartoon. I wasn't sure whether to really classify this as a crossover since I'm only using the Music Meister from that universe and since I plan on tweaking him a bit, so that he will better fit in with the Batman TAS universe. In future chapters, I will blend some elements of Batman: Arkham Asylum (the video game) with Batman TAS. I don't own any of these characters. I do own the dead trumpet player's name, though. I hope you enjoy this fanfiction.)
Neil Tenner wasn't crazy. Of course, if anyone saw him walking the dangerous back alleys of Gotham City (even if it was broad daylight), they would undoubtedly say that he was. The red-haired young man adjusted his elegant, black hat with his somewhat shaky hands and kept walking. He had a rough idea of how things would go down when he got to the bank. He was already incognito, so there was no need to worry about his identity being blown… provided that things went off without a hitch. He was sure there wouldn't be any problems.
Neil paused, just before reaching the city's public streets. He was surprised he had gotten all the way through without someone threatening to stab him or something. He hoped there wouldn't be any problems. He pushed aside every thought that was screaming at him about how what he was doing was wrong. He needed to focus. He started to hum a lullaby that sounded suspiciously like "Frère Jacques."
Then, he took in a breath and sang:
Gotham City, Gotham City,
Don't mind me, don't mind me,
I'm not really here, you don't need to fear,
Just let me be, just let me be.
He continued the song repetitively as he stepped out onto the public sidewalk and walked the block it took to arrive at the nearest bank. He was pleased to see that life was going normally and that no one paid attention to him. In fact, he had to sidestep several people to prevent from being run into. It wasn't that he actually needed the lyrics to specify what he wanted people to do. He could have just as easily sang a love song, and, as long as he knew in his head what he wanted people to do, they'd do it. Neil preferred making up lyrics because it helped him focus.
Before the bank came into view, he changed the lyrics and sang louder:
Take notice, take notice,
Block their view, block their view,
Cameras are a pain, I don't want the blame,
Wave when you're through, wave when you're through.
He kept singing and waited, leaning against a building. His head was beginning to bother him from the concentration it took to control everyone within viewing distance of him, as well as some people in the bank. A male security guard merrily skipped towards him, stopped at a good distance, and then waved. Neil grinned, but kept up the song and followed the skipping guard into the bank. His voice became a little softer:
Hello people, hello people,
Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping?
I'm here to rob the bank, just to rob the bank,
You three help me, you three help me.
Most everyone except for three members of the bank staff were on the floor, snoozing away. In no time at all, him and the bank members had piled a large sum of money into the trunk of a car behind the bank. It wasn't Neil's car, so he had to sing its owner into driving him away from the crime scene. He kept his mind focused on keeping the driver under his control, but a tiny part of him was both awed and horrified that he had just committed his first crime.
It had been two weeks since the first mysterious robbery. Two weeks. Batman narrowed his eyes at the large computer screen in his Batcave. Since the first robbery, four more had taken place. He still didn't have any leads. He leaned against the back of his chair and sipped some coffee that Alfred had left out for him.
For what might have been the millionth time, Batman went over what he knew so far. The culprit went unseen by those that had been at the crime scene and by security cameras, which were shown to have been disabled by security guards. This suggested that mind control had been involved somehow. A significant portion of the witnesses, or rather the non-witnesses, reported that the only strange thing they could remember in the time frame before the crime had possibly taken place was ringing in their ears. Batman had collected a few blood samples, but he was unable to find any evidence of toxins that would explain why no one had seen or remembered the crime taking place.
The reported ringing in the ears intrigued him, though. He wondered if perhaps the mind control had been sound-induced. He had hunted down the recently escaped Mad Hatter to see if he could find some answers, but nothing came of it. He had known from the beginning that Mad Hatter wasn't directly responsible, but there didn't seem to be an indirect link, either. Batman reached for the cup of coffee and downed what was left in it.
There was no way of predicting where the criminal's next target would be. The robberies were all random. Two of them didn't even take place at a bank. Finally, the culprit always returned everything he stole. He had made a few conclusions based on that evidence. The culprit wasn't interested in becoming wealthy, which could mean the culprit was already wealthy or held some belief in detaching from material goods. It also meant that the robberies were probably a warm-up for some bigger scheme. What scheme?
Batman shut the computer down after inputting the details of that morning's robbery. He whirled around just in time to see Alfred entering the Batcave. Batman's face remained impassive.
"Alfred?"
"I just thought you'd like to know, sir, that it is five in the morning. Well past your usual hours." Alfred held a stern tone in his voice.
"I know." Batman pulled off his cowl to signal to Alfred that he was turning in.
"I thought we agreed you would turn in earlier tonight, Master Bruce. You didn't forget that you agreed to attend Gotham's Charity Auction this morning, did you, sir?"
"No. Nine 'o clock, right?" Bruce had already changed out of his batsuit.
"In the morning."
Bruce sighed, "There was a gang war tonight, Alfred. And the Joker escaped Arkham… again. Naturally, a few other inmates escaped as well. It was a busy night."
"Indeed. But even the Batman needs sleep. You can't run on coffee forever, sir."
"I'll be fine with a couple of hours, Alfred."
"I'm sure you will be, sir. I know what a morning person you are." Alfred picked up the coffee cup and watched Bruce leave the Batcave with a shake of his head.
Neil Tenner didn't want to stick around after Gotham's Charity Auction for Needy Schools was finished. He didn't mind being at the auction itself. He actively participated in quite a few charities and had a soft spot for needy schools, in particular. Music programs were usually the first to get cut, and he couldn't just sit by and let that happen. He had bid $200,000 on an antique trumpet that had been used by one of Gotham City's most famous musicians, Samuel Locke. He had also bid on a few other items, but he did it only to raise the bar further. The trumpet had been the only item he was interested in.
It was the mingling that Neil didn't want to do, and it was precisely what his manager was insisting on. Something about making himself better known among the high-society of Gotham City. As if he needed to. It would all be pointless in the end, anyway…
Still, he wanted to save his energy. Preparing himself mentally for what he wanted to do was already hard enough on his voice. It wouldn't do for him to come down with laryngitis on the launch day of the United Nations Global Communications Satellite. He adjusted his normal oval-framed glasses and slipped next to a raven-haired man who was browsing the drink choices on the table.
"So, I think the auction went pretty well, don't you?" Neil grabbed a glass of water.
"Hm?" The man seemed to give up on the drinks, "Yes. It did. I'm sure many kids will be grateful."
Neil noted, with much relief, that the man's voice was a smooth and pleasant baritone. He couldn't stand listening to people that had awful, irritating voices.
He smiled, "I'm Neil Tenner. And you…? You look familiar, actually."
The man smirked slightly, "Bruce Wayne."
Neil blinked, but didn't miss a step, "Ah! That's where I know you from. Well, it's an honor to meet you, Mr. Wayne."
They shook hands.
"Likewise. Forgive me, I haven't listened to any of your albums, but I've been told you're quite good, not to mention an excellent role model for Gotham's youth."
Neil felt a twinge of guilt, but nodded. He tried to focus on feeling pride for his work and justifying his actions and his future actions.
"I enjoy my work. I doubt I'll ever be as influential as you, though."
"Well, you have reached the number two spot on Gotham City's Most Eligible Bachelor list. I think I might just be concerned," Bruce told him in a jovial tone.
"Ah, well. I just haven't found the right girl yet. Hopefully, you won't have to be concerned for too much longer." Neil smiled at that. If everything went his way, no one would have to be concerned about anything ever again.
Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment, then he reached into his pocket. He looked apologetic and flipped open his phone. He walked away, leaving Neil to find other people to mingle with.
Metropolis. Safe, well-protected Metropolis. It was the perfect location for the launch of the U.N. satellite. With Superman there keeping a watchful eye over the proceedings, nothing could go wrong. The man of steel stood outside the launch facility, looking at the rocket that would carry the satellite into space and appearing quite a bit bored. He was sure someone would have tried something by now since it was launch day. Various… rocket scientists, he guessed… were examining the rocket. Probably double-checking for any problems. One of them started dancing.
Superman froze up for a moment, as he stared at the man by the rocket that was dancing. Faster than a speeding bullet, he was there.
"What's going on?"
The other scientists looked at their colleague, just as puzzled as Superman.
"I don't know. I think Ted's lost it…" one of the scientists sang.
The singing scientist quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, a shocked expression on his face. Superman spun around, sensing someone a small distance behind him. If he didn't know any better, he would've said that he was facing the Joker. He knew better, though. The man was not as white, had red hair, bizarre glasses with a musical note on them, and his purple suit was also decorated with musical notes. This was, altogether, an entirely different wacko.
"Aww, you ruined my grand entrance," the man said, frowning.
Superman didn't give the unusually dressed man a chance to move even an inch. He picked him up off the ground and gave him a steady, intimidating look. The man looked frightened… for about two seconds.
"Who…"
The man interrupted Superman by singing:
I'm the Music Meister!
You need to let me go,
I'm the Music Meister!
And I'm here to put on a show!
Neil, aka The Music Meister (if he was going to wear a costume, he figured he might as well have an alternate name), grinned with triumph when Superman obediently let go of him. He continued to sing while he handed over a special device for the mind-controlled rocket scientists to install into the satellite. He hadn't built the device himself, of course. He didn't have that kind of knowledge. He had been able to find a few brilliant people capable of building the device for him… with a little help from his oh so charming voice.
His control almost broke for a moment when he became distracted by stray thoughts of what he had planned for the world. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand. Although…
He looked over to Superman who was just standing there. Who could resist the opportunity to make Superman, THE Superman (whom he hadn't honestly expected to be there), sing and dance? Boosting his confidence by previously engaging in illegal activity had done him well. He wondered if perhaps he was being too confident, but quickly pushed the thought aside.
The Music Meister simply couldn't pass it up. He'd still be able to keep enough concentration for the scientists to do their work. Besides, wasn't sharing musical joy the point of his very existence? He made a showy twirl and increased the tempo in his singing, really getting into the flow of things. Nothing could stop him now; he was in his element.
Batman did not usually work in the daytime, being the creature of the night that he was, but he made exceptions on several occasions. This was one of those occasions. He was sure that his presence was required in Metropolis. He had placed several bugs at the U.N. satellite's launch site, designed to inform him if the satellite or the rocket was being messed with beyond simple repairs and minor adjustments and also to give him an accurate picture of why such a thing would happen under the watch of Superman. Right now, driving fast in the Batmobile, he was watching a video feed from one of the bugs.
His face remained as impassive as ever while he watched Superman twirl, jump, and prance about as if he was in a ballet. An extremely skilled observer might have seen his lips twitch for a nanosecond but nothing more. Batman's mind worked quickly. Clearly, mind control was involved, and the mysterious man in purple must have been pulling the strings. It was likely that this man might have had something to do with the peculiar robberies. With that in mind, Batman had put earplugs in his ears. It was crude, and he wasn't sure whether earplugs would protect him from the sound-induced mind control. Until he knew more about what he was up against, it was all he could do.
He reached Metropolis and the launch site, parking the Batmobile a distance away in a discreet location. He ran, taking cover at the side of the building. The madman was nowhere in sight outside now. Batman paid no attention to the tap-dancing Superman by the rocket. He entered the building through an entrance he seldom ever used: the front doors. It didn't take him long to find the launch control center…
The screen displayed a countdown of thirty seconds. The man in purple was there in front with his back turned to Batman. It took only two seconds for Batman to grab the man, slam him against the wall, and slap a pair of handcuffs on him. Batman didn't need his hearing for him to realize that there were three scientists sneaking up behind him. He grabbed the purple-suited man again as he spun around, ready to fight, if he had to.
"Call them off." Batman glared down at his captive.
The guy looked as if he was going to pee his pants, which would've been unfortunate but certainly not the first time Batman had caused that to happen. He didn't, his face set with determined eyes and a nervous (although, the nervousness was almost impressively hidden) smile. Was he singing?
Batman carefully dodged the three scientists who leapt at him all at once. He looked back at the face of the criminal. Yes. He was singing. Could it be that…? Superman burst through the doors, interrupting Batman's thoughts.
The guy was singing, calling himself the Music Meister, and there was a bunch of other nonsense in the lyrics. It wasn't worth reading his lips for the entire thing. Batman did not reach for the pocket that contained kryptonite just then, even as Superman was flying towards him. He punched the Music Meister in the face.
"Don't make this harder on yourself." Batman leapt towards the launch controls with the singing villain in tow. He had lost the gambit; Superman tackled him through the wall, barely missing everything that kept the launch controls intact. Batman had lost hold of the villain as soon as Superman had slammed into him. Ignoring the searing pain that came from the equivalent of being hit by a truck, he got to his feet and reached for the pouch that contained the kryptonite.
Ten seconds, by his count. It all would've been over if Superman had damaged the launch controls because then, the rocket wouldn't launch. This Music Meister was either reckless or stupid. He rushed forward, holding the kryptonite out in front of him. Superman fell to his knees, holding an arm up as if to protect himself. Batman slid past him into the hole in the wall. The Music Meister was gone.
Three seconds. Batman ran to the controls. His hands swept furiously over the panel as he attempted to cancel the launch. If he had had one more second, he would have had it. The rocket was launching…
Batman narrowed his eyes and whirled around, heading for the doors. Everyone was still, as if they were awaiting orders. Once outside, his eyes scanned the area for clues as to where the man might have went. When he passed over the employee parking lot, he noticed a set of tire tracks… Someone had sped out of there fast. Batman clenched his fist. He sensed someone behind him and turned. It was Superman. Batman lowered his guard only slightly, as he could never fully let down his guard for anyone. Superman's face was as red as his cape.
"Bruce? You didn't…"
It was an interesting development. Everyone at the scene of the robberies had no recollection of what had happened to them, but Superman… obviously, he did remember. Batman took the earplugs out of his ears and walked past Superman.
"I didn't know you could dance, Clark." His tone was as flat and humorless as usual. Superman fidgeted and coughed into his hand, trying to regain composure and perhaps, some dignity.
"Uh… Robin isn't with you, is he?"
"No."
Batman was sure if Robin had been with him, the boy would've wanted to post the video onto the internet. He probably wouldn't have ever looked at Superman the same way ever again, either.
The red skin tone faded only a bit, "That Music Meister guy… How did he do this? What did he want with the satellite?"
"He modified the satellite. My… findings… indicate that it's a physical change, so I won't be able to hack into the satellite and undo what he's done. I have a couple of ideas as to what he might be planning… and I might be able to track him down." Batman reached his Batmobile. He turned to face Superman.
"Did you talk to the scientists?"
"Yes. They're all right," Superman said, the red was completely gone from his face now.
"Do they remember what happened?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Superman kept a serious expression on his face. The red threatened to creep across it again.
Batman nodded. The Batmobile opened up, and he hopped inside. Superman gave him a leveled look.
"Do you need any help?" He had his arms crossed over the S on his chest.
"No."
Batman glanced at Superman from inside the open Batmobile for a moment.
"If you start to hear ringing in your ears, put in some earplugs."
The door to the Batmobile slid closed. It took off towards Gotham City.
