Rights to Once Upon A Time is held by Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz. Those to Wonder Woman, Batman, Superman, et al to DC Comics/Warner Bros. Joe 90 is owned by the estate of the late Gerry Anderson, Sylvia Anderson, ITC, etc. Rights to other franchises used are owned by: Marvel Comics; NOW Comics/Moonstone Books; the BBC; JK Rowling; Jim Butcher; Charles Addams; the estates of Peter O'Donnell and Anthony Buckeridge; amongst others. This is a non-profit attempt to play with favourite franchises.
Early March 2015
A clean-shaven long-haired man, tall and slender, walked down a back alley. There was a cough, and he spun to face a tall, willowy brunette, with a streak of pure white running through her jet black locks.
"Mr Gold, I presume?" she asked. "My name is Talia Al Ghul. I represent my father Ra's. Would you be prepared to meet him?"
"Well, dearie," the man answered in a thick Scottish accent, "I have never heard of either of you. How do you know who I am? Why should I come with you?"
"We know many things, Mr Gold," she replied. "Right now, you want to return to Storybrooke. We can create a situation that can help. All we want is to make a fair bargain."
"A deal?" Gold asked, rubbing his hands together in glee. "What are you waiting for, dearie? Let's meet Daddy dearest!"
The tall, dark man with the greying goatee smiled thinly at Gold. "So, we are agreed then? I create an international incident between Themyscira and Storybrooke. You step in and return in triumph. I get privileged access to the resources of your shop."
"I don't know if your machines do what you say," Gold responded. "Perhaps you could demonstrate them first?"
Ra's Al Ghul laughed darkly. "A show of arms? I can do that. Ubu, launch the drones! Target: Gotham City!"
A number of black bat-shaped drones, small but laden with a powerful nerve toxin, descended over Gotham. From grills in the base came an invisible stream of immense power. Wherever they passed, emotions were intensified. In downtown Gotham, that could mean a number of things. One thing was certain – if the chemicals being added to the atmosphere affected the warfare between the gangs who dominated the underworld or the more colourful members of the local criminal fraternity, there would be serious trouble.
A tense stand-off between the Thorne, Cobblepot and Black Mask gangs was getting out of hand. The cops watching over the developing situation were waiting for the fighting to start, so they could intervene. Suddenly, the language became aggressive and coarse, the fingers of the gangsters and policemen alike tightened on their weapons and a sense of impending danger arose. An insult got personal, a trigger was pulled and lawbreakers and law enforcers alike seemed more interested in maiming and killing than in negotiating or stopping. This spread, with the pitched battles spreading to block the main bridges across the Gotham River, blocking any entry from the direction of Wayne Manor and, unbeknownst to the fighters, the Batcave.
A number of bar brawls became full-scale rioting in the streets of Gotham. The street ladies and their clientele started either to in indulge in grotesquely perverted actions outside of their establishments or vehicles, or to fight over the fee or exactly what services the prostitute in question would or would not offer. Finally, the Joker, on "leave" from Arkham Asylum, felt even more compunction than usual to add to the chaos that was rapidly spiralling out of control. His fireworks were igniting shops and homes throughout the streets nearby.
"This is madness, Commish," grumbled Lieutenant Harvey Bullock. "The streets are out of control!"
"What's new?" Commissioner James Gordon asked rhetorically. "We need to deal with all this and soon, though. Any thoughts?"
"Our men seem as much caught up in the madness as anyone else," Bullock pointed out. He gave a deep, heartfelt sigh. "While I can't stand having to rely on vigilante freaks…"
"We need them tonight!" Gordon finished as he went towards the stairs leading to the roof – and the Bat-Signal.
Bruce Wayne smiled over the dinner table. With Selina, Dick, Barbara and little Mary the only others present for dinner, it was decided to use the smallest and most intimate of Wayne Manor's dining rooms. The meal was excellent – Alfred had prepared a feast rich in taste even by his own exalted standards.
"This Salmon Wellington is exquisite, Alfred," Barbara congratulated him.
"Thank you, Mistress Barbara," the butler, chef, valet and chauffeur to Bruce Wayne (not to mention the other duties required by his employer's alter ego) replied. "I see Miss Mary is making quite the mess." Having an eight-month old only recently weaned off breast milk around had also played a part in choosing the dining room.
"How do you two cope?" Selina asked. "I've often wondered how I would manage if Bruce and I…"
"Don't even think about it, Selina!" Bruce interrupted her hastily. "There is no place for a baby in…"
"Your life, I know!" His girlfriend finished for him. "Don't I have a say in the matter? It's my biological clock that's ticking away!"
Suddenly, a bright light shone from afar. A rotating searchlight beam, with a black bat in flight motif in the centre, continued its circle of the sky.
"Duty calls!" Dick sighed. "Fancy getting back in the saddle again, Babs?"
"I have been out a couple of previous times over the last month, darling," his wife retorted. "Still, even after losing the baby-weight quickly, I could do with the exercise.
"Alfred, the bag with the wipes, baby food and diapers is in the hall. I put the steriliser…"
"In the kitchen, next to the set of knives," Alfred finished. "Good hunting, all of you!"
Bruce was the first to enter his study, with the other three just behind him. He opened the grandfather clock and adjusted the hour and minute hands to show 10:47, the exact time his parents were shot dead. Pushing on the clock face caused the section of the wall behind the antique timepiece to swing open, revealing a spiral staircase descending deep into the ground, from which the sounds of distant bats could be heard. The four rushed down the stairs and the secret door closed behind them, the clock resetting itself to the correct time.
At the foot of the staircase, the stonework of Wayne Manor's foundations and under-basements was replaced by an ancient network of caves. Once this had housed part of the Underground Railroad, now it was home to vast numbers of nesting North American brown bats; several advanced methods of transportation, by land, water or air; the most extensive forensic laboratory in the world; a sickbay most hospitals would envy; and a computer system that NASA would consider impossibly advanced. At that moment, however, they were interested in a series of stainless steel vaults. Bruce entered one, Selina a second and Dick and Barbara a third (according to the latter, it was the only chance she got to see her husband in little or nothing without being interrupted by a bawling infant). Within a few minutes, Batman, Catwoman, Nightwing and Batgirl were standing in front of a police-band radio, listening to the mounting carnage in Gotham.
"Right, Catwoman and I shall take the Batmobile…" Batman began.
"You would be better taking the Batcopter, Batman," Nightwing interrupted. "The bridges are blocked and the Batplane is bigger and harder to land. We'll take the Batboat to the Gotham Docks. Batgirl and I can pick up a Batmobile or a couple of Batcycles from one of the subsidiary Batcaves, if we need land transport."
"Good thinking!" his adopted father praised him. "Actually, Catwoman, please take the Subway Rocket to one of the abandoned subway stations near the carnage. You may be able to acquire some papers from our local mob bosses. See if anyone has anything to gain from this chaos."
At that, Batman boarded a monorail car headed to the section of the Batcave where the Batplane and Batcopter were parked. Meanwhile, Catwoman, Nightwing and Batgirl took an elevator to the lower levels of the cave. Catwoman disembarked a couple of "floors" before her companions did.
Reaching the Batcopter, Batman boarded; used remote controls to activate the fog and wind machines that concealed the exit; checked the radar jamming device was operational; and activated the remote that opened a large "hangar" door, the other side of which was disguised as a rock face halfway up a cliff. He then launched his vehicle and left the Batcave, remotely closing the hangar door behind him. Flying in between cliffs and hills that surrounded this route towards Gotham, he set a course for the police headquarters.
Catwoman boarded what looked like a mad scientist's attempt to adapt part of a failed steampunk space rocket into a subway train. She punched in the requested path and was launched on a railway track in the direction of Gotham City. After a while, a number of hidden doors by an abandoned subway station opened and the Subway Rocket joined the main line. On-board devices cloaked the vehicle from being detected by the subway authorities whilst keeping the craft from meeting (or, worse, crashing into) any trains en route to central Gotham.
Batgirl and Nightwing boarded a bat-winged trimaran moored on a harbour beside an underground river. They sealed the cockpit canopy, cast off and travelled along the waterway. On reaching a "blocked" path, the smaller side hulls retracted to become part of the main body of the vessel. This promptly submerged, travelling underwater until it came to a door, the reverse of which was also disguised as a section of rock, this time deep under the Gotham River. Travelling underwater for a few more miles, the craft then resurfaced, switching back to trimaran mode.
Batman flew the Batcopter above the Bat-signal beam and landed on a flat, vacant section of the roof of the police headquarters. He disembarked and approached Commissioner Gordon.
"You seem to have a whole host of problems tonight, Jim!" he commented. "Any idea what is causing this mayhem?"
"No idea, old friend," Jim sighed. "Suddenly, a three way stand-off between the main Gotham gangs led to a four way fire-fight also involving the SWAT team monitoring them. Prostitutes then started to service their punters in all sorts of ways that should not be seen in public even in this city. To make it even worse, the Joker then started a one-man bombing campaign! At least, the other crazies…" A voice came through his earpiece. "I knew that was too good to be true! Harley and Ivy are raising hell downtown.
"Well, I hope you have better luck in…" He turned around at the sound of the Batcopter starting. "If he had come any other way, I would be talking to myself for even longer, as usual."
The Subway Rocket disappeared through a secret hangar door just before another abandoned station. Shortly afterwards, a store front in a nearby condemned alley hinged upwards and a cat-themed motor scooter emerged. Thankfully Bruce saw sense over having "Cat" vehicles in his caves and lairs, alongside "Bat" and "Bird" ones. It wouldn't do much for my street cred to turn up in a Batmobile on a girls' night with Harley and Ivy.
The Batboat submerged again as it approached Gotham Docks. The grating of what appeared to be an air intake slid aside and the craft entered before the grating closed again. Within a few moments, the end of an outlet pipe on the ground above swung out and Nightwing and Batgirl ran out.
"Shall we take the bar brawlers and prostitutes or the gangs first?" Batgirl asked, as the hidden door closed behind them.
"The prostitutes and their punters," her husband responded. "We can disperse them with a few smoke bombs and tear gas pellets. Once done, we can pick up a Batmobile. If we are going to be the fifth side in a pitched battle, we need proper firepower. Also, I know our suits are a Kevlar-mix…"
"…But the armour-plating would be better!" his wife finished for him.
Reaching the red-light district, they used grappling wires to reach the roofs. Nightwing had been right. Hurling smoke and tear gas pellets into the throng below was enough to cause it to disperse.
The window of the study in Oswald Cobblepot's penthouse over the Iceberg Lounge opened. Catwoman entered, checking as she did that the Penguin had not left any birds of prey in his suite in case of visitors. She found the safe behind a portrait of a Humboldt Penguin and used an advanced miniature computer of Batman's design to crack the combination. After taking photographs of the documents within with a miniature digital camera, she replaced everything just as it was and closed and locked the safe after her. Not bad, she thought, as she closed the window behind her. I've visited two of the three mob bosses' premises now. Now to visit the Sionis residence! From what I can tell this carnage isn't in either Thorne's or the Penguin's plans. I wonder what the Black Mask is up to, if it is him behind this?
The Joker drove his clown-faced car through the streets of Gotham, laughing madly as his rocket-launchers blew up some more buildings. "Chaos, lovely chaos!" he cried.
From above, a searchlight illuminated his vehicle. He looked up and saw the pursuing Batcopter. "Batsy! As if my fun wasn't complete!"
He fired further rockets at the pursuing vehicle. Batman launched ball-bearings at these, causing them to explode safely short of him. He then fired a pellet straight into the Joker's car. "A present, Batsy? You shouldn't have!" The capsule exploded, producing a cloud of tear gas. The Joker had little choice but to park the car and leave on foot.
"Now for you to land and fight me, Batsy!" the Joker yelled at the helicopter above. In response, a panel in the front of the Batcopter opened and a grapple and line was fired. This caught the villain around the waist and allowed him to be lifted bodily off the ground. "Put me down!" he demanded. A speaker grill activated. "If you insist!" growled Batman in his deepest, most commanding voice, so different from Bruce Wayne's affable lyric baritone. The other end of the line was jettisoned from the hovering aircraft, bola-type weights encircling the top of a streetlight. Helplessly hanging several yards above the ground, the killer clown shook his fist at his foe.
"Now, off to take on Harley and Ivy!" Batman's voice came through the speakers. "Your girlfriend and her best friend should provide a proper fight! There's a homing device in one of the bolas which the Gotham police can use to find you. So, keep hanging around and you should awake from your nap back in Arkham."
"I'll do the jokes, Batsy!" shouted his arch-enemy. "Wait, what nap? I'm wide awake!"
"Thanks for reminding me!" A nozzle extended from the Batcopter and a concentrated stream of soporific gas was fired directly at the Joker. The last thing he heard before he succumbed to Morpheus was a growl of "Goodnight!"
Nightwing and Batgirl headed towards a deserted warehouse not far from the pitched battle. The latter twisted a length of a drainpipe and a panel opened, revealing a keypad. Her husband entered a code and a hidden door opened, with retina scanners just behind. Once they were recognised, the secret entrance closed behind them and an elevator door opened and took them down into one of a number of "subsidiary Batcaves" hidden in and around Gotham. As with most of the others, this contained living and sleeping quarters, computer terminals, equipment lockers and a small selection of vehicles. Selecting a duplicate of the Batmobile, the crime-fighters entered and started the ignition. The vehicle roared into life and headed towards the back of the "cave" (despite the name, it was more of a lair or den than a series of grottoes). A section of ceiling descended to form a ramp, which took them out into a condemned back alley behind the warehouse. Pushing a button on the dashboard closed the ramp and another button lowered and raised a barricade.
"The fight's still continuing!" Batgirl commented after the police band radio flickered into life.
"Well, we are ready for a fight!" Nightwing responded. He turned the steering wheel sharply and the Batmobile turned towards the sounds of the fierce fray.
A couple of minutes later, they had reached the carnage. The Batmobile's armoured exterior would have withstood anti-tank rockets, let alone the rounds fired by both SWAT team and gangsters alike. Two compartments opened on the sleek, black exterior and mortars extended to fire large tear gas canisters into the midst of the battle, forcing the other combatants to back away from the car and from each other. One enterprising gangster tried to ram the vehicle with his truck, but the oil slick ejectors caused it to slip into a fire hydrant before it got anywhere near.
"What could we do if the Batmobile had the Black Beauty's fire power, Batgirl?" Nightwing asked.
"The rockets would certainly come in handy!" his wife agreed. "Whilst the Hornets have also had a non-killing policy, their 'gangster' reputation means they can pack more of a punch with their 'rolling arsenals.'"
Nightwing parked the Batmobile and the crime-fighters disembarked. Within seconds, the remaining gangsters were being treated to a martial arts masterclass. Whilst Nightwing was delivering a meaty karate chop to a Black Mask acolyte, Batgirl was delivering a perfectly timed flying kick to a member of the Penguin's mob. Two Thorne associates were floored by simultaneous left hooks from the two vigilantes. Carefully aimed batarangs, shuriken and tear gas pellets scattered the SWAT teams. Within a few minutes, that section of the effective warzone was cleared. They returned to the Batmobile to move to the next street they would have to clear.
Catwoman was just finishing returning everything to the relevant place in Roman Sionis' safe, when a deep voice sounded from behind her: "Do you know what they say curiosity did to the cat?"
She spun around. Sionis was standing behind her, wearing the black mask that gave his alter ego his name. He was carrying a large machine gun, the barrel pointed straight at her heart. She raised her hands above her head. "I've heard that joke before!"
"It wasn't a joke." His finger pressed lightly against the trigger, readying to fire. "Say goodnight, little kitty!"
His foe suddenly leapt up, twisted in mid-air and used her still raised hands to launch herself into a series of cartwheels out of the way of the bullets. She stopped, then ran at the gangster, removing her whip from her belt as she did so. With a flick of her right wrist, she used the whip to disarm Black Mask before crashing through a window, using her whip again, this time to slow her descent.
Black Mask looked out of the window. He heard an engine growl into life and saw Catwoman leave on her scooter. No point in ordering my men to chase her. She'll be long gone by the time they can get started.
Meanwhile Catwoman, noticing she was not being followed, headed back towards the "garage" by the Subway Rocket terminal.
"Aww, Red, just think about the trinkets we could get for Mister J!" Harley Quinn exulted as they turned over a jewellers shop.
"Harley, I am raising funds for the preservation of rare plants!" Poison Ivy protested. "What do you see in that man anyway? He clearly doesn't feel the same about you, judging by the way he treats you!"
"That's foreplay, Red!" her friend responded.
"I didn't think you were that intimate, Harley. He doesn't love you!" At least not how I love you, anyway. How can you not see that I would never treat you as a doormat?
Unbeknownst to the two villainesses, the Batcopter had just landed on a flat roof opposite. Batman dismounted, fired his grapple-line and swung across the street. As he moved towards the front of the jewellers, he produced a flash-bang grenade from his utility belt and hurled it through the smashed window. He released his hold on the line and glided through the window, kicking first Ivy and then Harley to the floor, before landing gracefully and turning around. He was met by two bolts from Ivy's wrist-mounted crossbow. Whilst they did not penetrate his suit, it allowed Harley to perform a series of cartwheels that ended with her left foot catching Batman's shoulder. He turned and grabbed her right ankle, then threw her at her friend, who was running up to join the fray.
"You are putting up more fight than that boyfriend of yours, Harley," Batman commented.
"Poor Mister J! What did you do to him, you big bully?" Harley began to run at him, but Ivy held her back.
"Wait, Harley…"
Ivy was cut off as a steel-wired, weighted net was flung over the pair of them. Batman approached them. "Harleen, Pamela, you are going back to Arkham. You know, Pamela, there are places where an eco-warrior would be an asset. Why don't you forsake crime and take your friend to defend the rainforests?"
"The jungle? No way! I can't stand bugs! Sorry Red," Harley complained.
"You've been dating one for years!" Ivy and Batman chorused in unison.
Harley pouted, as the police arrived to take the girls back to Arkham.
Batman grappled up to where he had left the Batcopter and took off.
"Catwoman, are you finished?" he spoke into his communicator.
"Yes, Batman, I'm in the Subway Rocket en route to the Batcave."
"Nightwing? Batgirl?"
"We're finishing up with the last streets of the turf war carnage," Batgirl replied. "We should be back in the Batcave in a couple of hours or so."
Once the communicator was on silent, Nightwing turned to his wife as he prepared to start the Batmobile. "We've pretty much finished. Why did you tell him a couple of hours? It shouldn't be much more than thirty minutes to return the Batmobile, retrieve the Batboat and return to base."
"Ah," she purred. "You do know what we could do in over an hour in one of the subsidiary Batcave's bunks, don't you?" She leaned over and kissed him passionately.
He started the Batmobile. "You've convinced me, Babs!"
Needless to say, it was a couple of hours before the Batboat docked at the Batcave. For once, Mary had not interrupted her parents' tryst.
"I'm convinced, Ra's!" Gold exclaimed. "You have a deal!"
"Thank you, Mr Gold." The leader of the League of Assassins smiled thinly. "Soon we should both get all that we want. Ubu, prepare more drones. Set up the radio-wave transmitters to repeatedly subliminally signal four words over Themyscira: "Athena", "Marry", "Henry" and "Storybrooke". That Mad Hatter is a genius! Then send in the drones!"