Wow, I didn't know this story would be so warmly received! I'd like to thank Andrea, Rebelbyrdie, The Old Man, D.J. Scales and piecesofyourheart for their feedback. Thanks very much to you all, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Batman & Benson 3
Chapter Two
'Damn it, where did he go?' Olivia wondered, as she looked up and down the street in frustration. To make matters worse, it had started raining pretty heavily, plastering Olivia's dark brown hair to her head. A part of Olivia realized that Alex was probably going to be very angry with her for not wearing a hat in this downpour. But an angry Alex was the least of her problems right now.
"Anybody see where the bastard went?" she asked.
Sam Spade, whose blonde hair was also drenched, gave a helpless shrug. "We lost him, Liv…."
Commissioner Gordon strode up to Olivia. "You've got better eyes than me, Liv," Gordon said, as he pointed out something over on the next street. "What do you make of that, up on the roof of that old church? Is that a man?"
Olivia let out a gasp when she saw them. Illuminated by the lights of the surrounding construction planking, Batman could clearly be seen as he held a man out over the ledge of the building. A chill ran up her spine, and it wasn't from the rain. Olivia had once found herself being held out over the ledge of a very tall building by the Batman, who had mistaken her at the time for an assassin. She knew full well what it was like to feel the full brunt of the Dark Knight's rage, and she almost felt sorry for Hartford right now.
Olivia almost felt sorry for him…but not quite. As far as she was concerned, the bastard was getting exactly what he deserved.
When Olivia told Gordon what she saw, he ordered everybody to get over there, pronto. Olivia got into her car, and was about to close the door when she saw Samantha Spade run by.
"Sam," Olivia called, "get in!"
Spade smiled as she quickly ran over to Olivia's car and got in. "Thanks," she said, running her hands through her hair to get it out of her face. "Did you see where Hartford is?"
"The old Church on Nash street," Olivia replied, as she pulled her car away from the curb. As she drove, Hartford's new location was being reported over the police radio. "Batman's got him."
Samantha gave her a wide-eyed look. "And here I was wondering whether or not I would get to see him on this trip."
"Hartford's probably really sorry he met him right now," Olivia said with a slight smile.
"Will there be anything left of Hartford for us to arrest?" Sam nervously asked.
"Yeah, there will be," Olivia assured her. "Batman may be many things, but he's no killer."
When she pulled up to the abandoned church, Olivia saw that Gordon was already running inside with Harvey Bullock and several uniforms. "They're up on the roof!" she called to them. "The belfry!"
Gordon waved his acknowledgement to her as he led the squad of police through the massive front doors, all of whom had their guns drawn.
Another unmarked police car arrived just then, and Martin Fitzgerald got out with Renee Montoya. "We heard the report over the radio," Renee said to Olivia. "Is Hartford really here?"
"I saw him with Batman," Olivia said, as she and Sam ran up the steps.
Renee smiled. "Then he's as good as captured."
"Is this Bat-freak really that good?" Martin asked.
Olivia gave him an annoyed look. "Yeah, he is."
"I saw him in action when I was here last year," Sam told her partner as they all ran inside. "Believe me, Martin, he's pretty damn impressive."
"Oh, well then," Martin said, still sounding skeptical. "If Batman's really that impressive, then the girl should already be safe and s--"
Fitzgerald ceased talking once he saw the sight of Simone Weatherly calmly speaking to Commissioner Gordon in the lobby of the church. Harvey Bullock was leading a cadre of fellow police officers up a flight of stairs--all with their guns drawn--to take Hartford into custody.
"Hey," Olivia said to Simone, "I'm Inspector Olivia Benson, with the Special Victims Unit. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," the girl said with a smile. "Thanks to Batman. He told me to wait for you down here when he came back inside with that guy."
"You were saying?" Sam curtly asked Martin, who looked too stunned to reply.
"Hey Commish!" Harvey called down the flight of stairs. "We got Hartford up here…or what's left of him!"
When Olivia and the others arrived in the belfry, they saw a wild-eyed, babbling Donovan Hartford kneeling in the center of what looked like a temporary torture chamber that he had set up, but never got to use. Although surrounded by police officers, Hartford didn't appear to notice their presence as he continued to babble in an almost sing-song manner about Jesus and divine redemption.
Gordon nodded at Olivia and said, "Since this is an SVU case, you want to do the honors, Liv?"
"It would be my extreme pleasure," she replied. Glaring at Hartford, Olivia recited the standard arrest mantra to him as Harvey and the other officers frisked Hartford for weapons and then cuffed his hands behind his back.
"Do you understand your rights as I have relayed them to you?" Olivia asked Hartford.
"Hey, psycho," Harvey prompted Hartford. "You hear what the lady's saying, or what?"
"Yes," Hartford answered, as he stared meaningfully at something. "Yes, I understand all of my rights. Under the law, as well as before God."
Olivia wondered what Hartford stared at, until he saw it was Sam whom he had focused his intense gaze upon. She gazed back at him with an uneasy expression.
"Hello, Agent Spade," Hartford said calmly. "I wish to confess to you."
"That's nice," Fitzgerald said. "But it's a little late. We've got you cold, now, Hartford. The evidence against you, along with a living witness, is all we need to put you away for life."
"You misunderstand me, Agent Fitzgerald," Hartford said serenely. "I wish to confess to you about all of my victims. You and Agent Spade were right about me all along, I am a monster. My encounter with God's divine wrath has made me realize what I truly am. And in order to save my immortal soul, I wish to confess to all of my sins…to all forty two murders."
There was a moment of silence as everyone stood stunned in the belfry.
'Forty two?' Olivia thought, staggered. 'This son of a bitch killed forty two women?! Oh, sweet Jesus….'
"Uh, yeah, ok," Fitzgerald said, also shocked at Hartford's admission. "We can take your confession at the station."
Samantha Spade resolutely shook her head. "No, if he wants to talk, he can talk now. I've got a recorder."
When Spade took out a recorder and held it out to Hartford, Gordon asked if he wanted an attorney. "I do not wish the presence of an attorney," he replied. Turning to the recorder, he said, "My name is Donovan Jason Hartford the Third, and I have killed forty two women. I know each and every one of them by name. Shall I recite them for you?"
"Yes," Gordon said.
As Hartford recited his lengthy and grisly confession, Olivia busied herself with checking the rest of the belfry--if only to keep her mind off the horrifying thought of what this monster had done. When she saw the smashed out window, Olivia realized that the ledge outside was where she had seen Batman holding Hartford. Upon glancing outside, she was startled to see the Dark Knight was still there, perched on the edge of the ledge like a gargoyle.
Squinting her eyes against the pouring rain, Olivia stepped out as far as she dared on the ledge and said, "Hey…."
"Make sure that nobody touches anything in the torture chamber," Batman said, without even turning around. "At least until a forensics team can dust the place for prints. Hartford wasn't wearing gloves."
"Yeah, will do," Olivia replied. "Listen, he's confessing everything, and I mean everything. So, um, great job! I don't know what you did--"
"Believe me, Liv, you don't want to know," Batman said starkly. He held his left wrist up to his face and whispered: "Come here."
Olivia knew him well enough by now to know that there was something seriously wrong. As the Batwing slowly rose to the level of the ledge in the pouring rain, answering its owner's call, Olivia asked, "Are you ok?"
Batman hesitated for a moment. He still would not look at her. "Come by later. It doesn't matter how late, or what I may be doing. Bring Alex and spend the night, if you wish."
He then expertly jumped onto the wing of his black aircraft and got into the cockpit with ease. As she watched him fly off, Olivia realized--just from the tone of his voice--that he had been deeply disturbed by something.
'Just what the hell happened on this ledge, anyway?!' Olivia wondered, as she went back inside.
B&B
"This is an outrage," Fred Saracen said, as soon as he stepped through the doors of the SVU bullpen. "My client is being railroaded, here!"
'Here we go,' Rachel Dawes thought, as she wearily shook her head. She had to admit, Saracen's timing was impeccable; it was barely an hour after they had brought Hartford in for booking when his attorney had already come barging in here with all guns blazing.
"I'll field this," Alex muttered.
"It's your case," Rachel said. "Have fun."
Alex just shot her a wry look before she went over to engage in another verbal sparring match with Saracen. Olivia came over and said, "We've got Hartford resting comfortably in a private cell--and I've placed him on suicide watch, just in case."
Rachel nodded. "Good move. Is he still babbling about God?"
"Never stopped." Olivia gave Rachel an uneasy glance. "It's a little creepy. I mean, at first I couldn't be sure if he was on the level. But Hartford's really sounding like he's had a religious experience during his run-in with the Batman."
"That's not the first time a lowlife got religion after meeting Batman," Rachel told her.
"Yeah, but you didn't see Batman's reaction to it," Olivia said, frowning.
Their conversation was interrupted when Saracen loudly yelled: "That will never hold up in court!"
"Well, let's go to court and find out, shall we?" Alex countered, as she flashed him a predatory smile. "I'm sure a judge would just love to make a ruling on that silly point, Fred."
Rachel was satisfied to see Saracen's own smile had evaporated once Alex called his bluff. "You said before that he invited you guys over later?" she asked Olivia, turning back to their conversation.
"Yeah. Maybe he wants to talk about what happened up there?" Olivia said with a shrug.
"That makes sense."
"Do you mind?" Olivia asked, looking troubled. "I don't want to step on your toes, here, Rachel."
Rachel smiled at her. "You're the closest thing to a sister that Bruce has, Liv. If he feels he can talk to you about certain things, I have no problem with that at all. Besides, we always love having you guys over, anyway."
A man strode into the SVU bullpen just then. He was tall, with thinning gray hair--yet his eyes were fiercely alert. Immaculately dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he spotted Rachel and focused in on her with the intensity of a shark locating fresh prey.
"Donald?" Saracen said with surprise, turning towards the old man. "You didn't have to come down here."
"Damn," Rachel muttered under her breath.
"Who is he?" Olivia asked.
"Donald Hartford, Donovan's daddy," Rachel told her. The fact that this reclusive billionaire was even standing here was disconcerting to Rachel. He rarely ventured anywhere, choosing to exert his vast power from the protective walls of his mansion.
Saracen made the introductions with Hartford and Alex. Yet before the ADA could even say a word, Hartford held up his hand and said, "I wish only to speak with your boss, the district attorney."
"Here we go," Rachel muttered to Olivia, as they both went over and joined the group. "Mr. Hartford, I'm Rachel Dawes, Gotham City District Attorney. Did you just request to see me?"
He merely glared at her with disgust. "In private, if you'd please. And I do not wish to speak in a room with double sided mirrors."
"Perhaps my office would suffice?" Olivia suggested.
"Donald," Saracen began, "may I ask what are you--?"
"Have you checked on Donny?" the elder Hartford asked him, pointedly ignoring his question.
"Yes, they have him in a private cell, under a suicide watch."
"See to it that he speaks to nobody but you from this point on," Hartford instructed him. He glanced at Rachel and gestured at Olivia's office. "Ms. Dawes, shall we?"
"Want me to come with you?" Olivia asked.
Before Rachel could even reply, Hartford turned to Olivia and snapped, "I wish to speak to Ms. Dawes in private, Inspector Benson. What part of that statement is not clear to you?"
Although she didn't reply--Olivia was too smart for that--she shot Hartford a glare that was lethal in its intensity.
"That's all right, Liv," Rachel said. "We won't be but a minute."
She allowed Hartford to enter Olivia's office first, then Rachel closed the door behind them.
Hartford wasted no time. He turned to face Rachel and said, "What will it take?"
Rachel stared at him. "Excuse me?"
Hartford stared impatiently at the ceiling, with an annoyed expression, as if he were dealing with a low-grade moron. "What will it take?"
"Could you please be more specific?" Rachel asked. She had an idea of what he meant, but she still wanted him to spell it out for her--if he would even dare.
"What would it take to make this go away?" Hartford said, slowly pronouncing each word as if Rachel was a complete idiot. "I'd like to take my son home with me tonight, before the press gets wind of his arrest."
Rachel was momentarily so stunned, she couldn't even speak. When she finally found her voice, she said, "Do you realize what you're asking me, Mr. Hartford?"
"Oh, let's drop the pretenses, shall we?" Hartford said with a wave of his hand. "Your predecessor, Mr. Dent, was always an agreeable man. I was hoping you'd be the same way. Now, I understand that this little Weatherly whore plans to testify against my son. But I have an army of lawyers and private detectives on my permanent payroll, Ms. Dawes. I will reveal Simone Weatherly for the lying little slut that she truly is before she even takes the witness stand. So let's please avoid all of this unnecessary unpleasantness and just make this all go away right now. Now, once again, what will it take? What's your price?"
"I'm going to do you a very big favor," Rachel said evenly. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say what you've just told me, Mr. Hartford. Because you've just found out that your son is a mass murderer, and you're obviously in a very distraught state of mind right now."
"Spare me! You called up your pet bat and sent him after my son. I don't have proof that you did this, but I just know you did," Hartford said, pointing a finger at her. "And by whistling up that winged abomination to do your dirty work for you, you've proven that you're willing to work outside of the system. Ergo, you're also willing to work out a deal, provided I make a donation to your favorite charity, right? After all, Ms. Dawes, I assume you wouldn't want me to make the check out directly to you?"
Rachel just shook her head in disbelief. "Mr. Hartford, this isn't some scam operation that we've set up to wrangle money from you. Your son is a monster! Not only do we have Simone Weatherly to testify to that, but we also have physical evidence that's mounting by the minute; not to mention a confession--both oral and now written--that's been given by your son, who freely admits to killing forty two women, in addition to abducting Simone!"
Hartford merely gazed at Rachel with a smug look on his face. "Once again, Ms. Dawes, I ask the question: what will it take to make this go away?"
'Oh, sweet Jesus, he knew all along!' Rachel thought, as she gasped at him in horror. 'He knew all along what his son was--what he was doing--and he didn't even care!'
"Mr. Hartford, this conversation is over," Rachel firmly stated. "Your son will be formally arraigned in court tomorrow."
"You have just declared war on me," Hartford told her. "And believe me, little girl, you don't want to have me as an enemy…."
Enraged, Rachel stormed over to the door, opened it, and said, "What part of 'this conversation is over' is not clear to you, Mr. Hartford?"
Hartford casually walked past her, as if he were merely going out for an evening stroll.
Before he joined Hartford in walking out the door, Saracen paused and said, "I'd beg all of you to consider that Mr. Hartford is presently under a great deal of stress right now, and that anything he might say should be--"
"Fred," Alex called to him with disgust, "put a sock in it!"
Saracen abruptly turned and ran after Hartford like the lapdog that he was. Rachel wearily rubbed her temples as she took a seat by the window. When Alex entered the room, Rachel suddenly realized that she had taken over Olivia's private office. "Tell Liv I'll get out of her way…."
Alex waved at Rachel to stay where she was. "Liv's busy speaking with Jim, anyway. Feel free to take as much time as you need. You ok?"
Rachel shook her head. "You know, Alex, I should be used to dealing with slime by now. But I'm still surprised at the depths of the goop I find myself wading in."
"What happened between you and Hartford?" Alex asked. "He didn't threaten you, did he?"
"Oh, not in so many words, he's too damn smart for that," Rachel said. "But he made it clear, once I made it clear that I wasn't going to cut him any favors, that we are now enemies."
"The Gotham City District Attorney's Office has made another enemy," Alex said blandly. "So what else is new? Hartford can get in line with the rest of them."
"Hartford knew his son was a murdering monster," Rachel told her, "and he didn't care! He simply wanted to sweep it all under the carpet before the press got wind of the arrest."
"Dear God," Alex muttered, stunned. "Well, now we can tell where little Donny got his psychosis…."
"I can't help but wonder if he's not the only one around here," Rachel said dejectedly.
"What do you mean?"
"For many years, Gotham City was known as being nothing more than a cesspool, Alex. And tonight, I've seen first hand why: it's thanks to such 'prominent Gotham City families' like the Hartfords. As long as we have people who think they're above the law, we'll never really have any law and order in this city."
"There are a lot of good people who are fighting to change that," Alex reminded her. "And I don't just mean the Batman--who's certainly done his share in turning things around--but also the many people who've been inspired by him. We're all just steadily chipping away at the corruption, day by day. Nobody said it would be quick, or easy, but we can't give up."
Rachel nodded with a look of firm resolution. "You're right, Alex. We can't give up."
Alex watched as Rachel got up from the chair, went over to Olivia's desk, and picked up the phone. "What are you doing?"
"Since Hartford was kind enough to inform me that we're at war, I'm firing the first salvo," Rachel said, as she dialed the phone. "I'm calling some contacts of mine at the Gotham Gazette and letting them know of Donovan Hartford's arrest."
Alex smiled. "That's the spirit."
"Oh, and I hoped you packed a bag for tonight, Alex."
Alex frowned at her. "Why? What's happening tonight?"
"You've been invited by Bruce to spend the night at the mansion," Rachel said, giving her a look of surprise. "Didn't Olivia tell you?"
"No, she didn't," Alex replied, as her eyes narrowed into annoyed slits behind her glasses.
"She probably forgot," Rachel assured her.
"Oh, yes, I'm sure she did," Alex said. "Thanks for telling me, Rachel. And now, excuse me while I go yell at Liv…."
Rachel burst into a broad smile as she watched Alex calmly walk out the office with a singular purpose.
B&B
'How does he do it?' Barbra wondered, as she lay on her bed.
She had just returned home--actually, snuck back into the house was probably a better term--and was so exhausted that she was only able to remove part of her Batgirl costume before she collapsed on the bed. And to think she still had homework to do, as well!
Having removed her cape and cowl, as well as her boots and gloves, Barbra was now clad only in the black bodysuit with the yellow bat emblem on the chest.
'Batman makes fighting crime look so easy!' Barbra wearily thought. 'But it takes a lot out of me, and I didn't even get anything done! If it weren't for Catwoman, God only knows where I'd be right now. Oh, God, how embarrassing!'
Barbra sat up on the bed and gently caressed one of her teddy bears in her arms. "The gymnastics just isn't enough, Mr. Googly," she whispered to the bear. "I need to take self-defense lessons…karate, judo, whatever. Because I can't very well depend on a super villain for help next time!"
The door to her room abruptly swung open, and Barbra was startled to see her mother enter with a basket filled with freshly done laundry. "You can put these away," she told her daughter, as she placed the basket on the floor before her.
Barbra let out an anxious gulp as her mother stopped short and stared at the black bodysuit she wore--her mother's eyes were focused on the bright yellow bat emblem on her chest. Barbra's mind frantically searched for an easy explanation, yet it only drew a blank.
"Nice Bat-pajamas, Babs," her mother said with a smile. "Did your grandmother give you those last Christmas?"
"Uh…yeah," Barbra said, her eyes as round as saucers.
"Don't stay up too late, sweetheart, tonight's a school night," her mother told her, just before she left the bedroom.
Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, Barbra collapsed back onto the bed. "Being a superhero isn't as easy as I thought," she muttered, staring at the ceiling. She held Mr. Googly up before her face and asked, "How does Batman do it, anyway?"
But if the teddy bear knew the answer, he wasn't talking.
B&B
When he opened the door, Alfred greeted her with a warm smile. "Good evening, Olivia, welcome."
Alfred's smiles were always infectous, and in spite of how tired she felt, Olivia couldn't help but smile back. "Thanks, Alfred. How are you doing this evening?"
Alfred nodded as he held the door open for her. "Very good, Liv. Thank you for asking. Isn't Alex with you?"
"She's got an early today tomorrow," Olivia explained, as she removed her coat. "She'll be arraigning Donovan Hartford in court first thing in the morning. She decided it would be best if she stayed at our place in the city."
"I see," Alfred said. "Perhaps some other time, then."
"Yeah. How's Richard doing?" Olivia asked.
"Finally sleeping," Alfred replied, sounding relieved. "He was up all night last night. But now he's getting some much-needed rest."
Olivia nodded as she hung up her jacket in the hallway closet. "Good. That's very good to hear."
"And, he no longer wishes to be called Richard," Alfred added. "It's now Dick. It's what his younger brother, Timothy, used to call him."
"Oh," Olivia said, her voice tinged with sadness. The image of Timothy Grayson's shattered body lying on the ground of the circus tent arose within Olivia's memory, and she nearly burst into tears. She never felt more helpless that night--during what was supposed to have been a fun charity event for the victims of the Gotham City SVU and their families--only to have it turn into more tragedy that had been witnessed by all of them.
Olivia admired Bruce for taking in Dick Grayson. She understood all too well why he did it--Dick's plight had reminded Bruce of his own loss in the distant past, when Bruce lost his own parents at such a tender age.
'Dick's got a new family, now,' Olivia thought. 'Bruce, Rachel, Alfred, Alex and me. I just hope he realizes that.'
"I've brewed some tea," Alfred told her, as they both walked towards the kitchen. "Would you like some before or after you see Master Bruce?"
That made Olivia give him a double take. "Bruce is back already? It's still early for him, isn't it?"
"The rain usually cuts his nights short," Alfred explained. "It puts a damper on things."
"Yeah, tell me about it," Olivia jokingly said, gesturing to her still-damp clothes. "I was out in it earlier, chasing down a scumbag."
"You might want to change out of those wet things," Alfred told her. "Although we've installed heating, the Batcave can still be quite chilly."
"I will," Olivia promised him. She always loved how Alfred doted on her. "How is Bruce doing?"
"He's greatly bothered by something that occurred tonight--yet he won't tell me what it is."
"Yeah, I think I know what it is," Olivia solemnly said. "He took down a really nasty bastard tonight, Alfred. A serial killer of women. Something happened on the roof, when he confronted the guy. I still don't know what happened, though. I'll talk to him. Let me get changed, first."
Alfred nodded at her with a smile. "I'll keep the tea warm for you, Liv."
Olivia went up to the bedroom that she always used whenever she and Alex stayed over at Wayne Manor. It was a large, master bedroom suite, with its own bathroom. As she gratefully peeled off her damp clothing, it occurred to Olivia that she and Alex had stayed over here so often that this place almost seemed more like home to her than her actual home.
Putting on a pair of comfortable, faded jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, Olivia padded out of the bedroom suite. Yet before she could descend the steps, Olivia paused to glance behind her. She had the odd sensation of being watched. But there was nothing behind her, the hallway was completely empty.
Giving a shrug, Olivia went downstairs. Once on the main floor, Olivia entered the spacious sitting room, and strode towards the secret panel in the wall that led directly to the Batcave. However, just before she reached over to pull back the head on the William Shakespeare bust, Olivia hesitated once more. She couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she was presently being followed.
Taking advantage of the fact that she was barefoot, Olivia quickly and silently skipped over to the doorway, where she hid right behind the opened door. A part of her felt very silly doing this; yet Olivia just wanted to quell her suspicions before she revealed the secret passageway that led to the Batcave.
Sure enough, Dick Grayson entered the room, wearing pajamas and a robe. He glanced around, looking confused, as Olivia snuck out from behind the door. Once again taking advantage of the fact that she wore no shoes, Olivia was able to creep right up behind the young man--until she leaned over and cheerfully whispered right into his ear: "Hey there…."
Dick was so startled that it almost looked as if he had nearly jumped out of his skin. Olivia was surprised to see that, when Dick initially turned to face her, he had instinctively assumed a combat stance. Once he saw it was only her, Dick instantly relaxed. "Hey, Liv…."
"Hello, Dick," she said with a sly smile. "Say, um, are you following me?"
"What?! Oh, no! Not at all," he said, with such a false performance of sincerity that it took everything Olivia had to keep from bursting out laughing at him.
"Master Grayson!" Alfred said, as he appeared in the doorway. "What a pleasant surprise. I thought you were asleep."
"Yeah, uh, I couldn't sleep, Alfred," he said, looking slightly uneasy.
"Did you make your important phone call, Liv?" Alfred asked her.
Olivia realized that his question was code for 'did she manage to open the secret panel?' She shook her head. "Not yet, Alfred."
Alfred turned to Dick and said, "I was just brewing some tea, and it occurred to me that it would be rather nice if we had some real baked cookies with it. Why don't you come help me make them while Olivia makes her important call?"
Dick had a repulsed expression on his face, as if baking cookies was the very last thing on earth he wanted to do--but he quickly hid his disgust with a forced smile. "Uh, sure thing, Alfred…."
"I'll join you guys, shortly," Olivia called after them, as she shut the door. She stood there for a moment, reflecting on what just happened.
'He's basically just a kid, probably just up to some harmless tomfoolery,' Olivia thought, as she padded over to the William Shakespeare bust and pulled back the head. 'But still, Bruce should know about this, especially since Dick came very close to discovering the entrance to the Batcave.'
Once she pressed the red button, the secret panel within the wall slid open, revealing the passageway that led to the Batcave. Olivia strode down the narrow passageway, until she came out on an outcropping dug deep within a stone wall. It was fenced off, with an elevator in the center. Olivia punched her own special code--which was Alex's birthday--into the keypad, and the elevator door opened.
As she rode down to the main level of the Batcave, Olivia smiled as she recalled the first time she was here. She didn't know Batman very well at first, and felt threatened when he left her all alone in the Batcave--so much so that Olivia, a dedicated rock climber, had climbed her way out by scaling the wall.
'God, that seems ages ago, now,' Olivia thought, bemused. Olivia had inadvertently stumbled onto Batman's secret identity that night when she found herself inside Wayne Manor.
When the elevator came to a halt, the doors opened for Olivia, revealing the main level of the Batcave. She had been down here countless times since that awkward first meeting, and this place had never lost its majesty for her.
The empty Batsuit stood on display by itself in the center of a platform, lit by halogen lights from above. A full forensic science lab was set up on an adjoining platform--while a third platform, which sat lower than the other two, held the Batmobile on a special rotating dais that always kept the car pointed towards the exit. The giant penny, along with a life-sized mock up of a Tyrannosaurs Rex, stood against one craggy wall of the cave.
As Olivia strode into the midst of the Batcave, she saw Bruce was using the grinder at the workstation at the far end of the platform. He appeared to be sharpening the blades on his Batdarts. He glanced over at her and cheerily said, "Hey sis!"
Olivia smiled as she walked over to him. "You look like you're feeling better."
Bruce gave her a frown. "When was I sick?"
"I don't mean it that way," Olivia replied, as she took a seat on a stool next to him. "You looked a little distracted before, when I spoke to you on the church roof. I got the impression that something was up, especially how you made a point of making sure that I'd be here to talk to you. Even Alfred mentioned that you appeared to be a little bothered earlier."
"Yeah," he said with a heavy sigh. "My meeting with Hartford got a little more intense than I originally planned. But you'd be surprised just how therapeutic spending a few hours at the work bench can be."
"The police department shrinks are always encouraging us to get a hobby," Olivia told him. She thoughtfully glanced down at her feet, which swung back and forth lazily in front of her. "Um, look, Bruce, if you'd really rather not talk about it, that's--"
"I nearly killed him, Liv," Bruce said quietly. "Before I realized it, I was holding him over the ledge of the building, and I damn near dropped him. And I don't mean by accident, either. As I held him over the ledge, I had actually thought about deliberately dropping Hartford."
"Given who he is, what he's done, that's understandable," Olivia softly said.
"Not for me," Bruce said darkly. "When I started this, I had sworn to never take a life, Liv. And just the fact that I was even thinking about killing him makes me wonder if I should just pack it in."
"You've always been a perfectionist," Olivia told him. "And I mean that in the best way possible, Bruce. That's what makes Batman--the whole Dark Knight thing--work so well. You're always on your game. But, being a perfectionist, I can't help but wonder if you're sometimes too hard on yourself, as well…like you are now."
"You had no idea just how close I came to killing that bastard, Liv!"
"But you didn't, though, right? If you had killed him in cold blood--then yeah, that would have been good reason to pack it in. All cops--including me--have had feelings like that from time to time, especially when they run into a real scumbag like Hartford."
Bruce shook his head. "No offense, Liv, but I'm not a cop. It's not the same thing with me."
"Yes, it is, to a degree. Look, my point is that you've been fighting crime all by yourself, without the benefit of a partner to share war stories with you. I may not be in the same league as you, but--take my word for it, Bruce, the emotions that you're feeling are normal. As long as you just feel it, and not give vent to it by actually killing somebody. You know, to be honest, I'm very impressed that you held it together so well this long. Considering some of the psychos you've already dealt with, like the Joker, Hartford feels like a second stringer."
"Sometimes, when evil is at its most banal, it's more horrifying," Bruce said somberly. "The Joker was truly in a league of his own, but never underestimate the monsters with a normal face--like Hartford."
"Good point," Olivia replied with a nod.
"And you're wrong about one thing: you are in the same league as me," Bruce told her. "Thanks for the pep talk, sis."
Olivia, suddenly feeling embarrassed at his compliment, quickly changed the subject by pointing at a gizmo on the workbench. "What's that?"
"It's something new I've developed," Bruce replied, as he picked up the small device. "Instead of shooting a cable, this gun shoots a net that wraps itself around a person."
Olivia frowned. "How does that work?"
Bruce just gave her a broad smile. "Wanna try it on yourself?"
Giving him a horrified look, Olivia shook her head as she warily got off the stool. "Oh, no…Bruce, no way…."
Bruce was now grinning as he held up the device. "It won't hurt, Liv. I promise! I had Alfred try it out on me, once."
"If you did that, then you know it works," Olivia told him. "You don't need to try the damn thing out on me!"
"But I want to," Bruce said, still grinning. "C'mon, Liv. Catwoman's back in town, and I'd like to see how well this works on a female."
"Absolutely not, Bruce," Olivia said firmly. "I mean it! The answer is no!"
B&B
When Alfred emerged from the elevator, he held a tray that contained two cups of tea and a plate filled with freshly baked cookies. It had been over an hour since Olivia went down to the Batcave, and Alfred took the lack of communication from both her and Master Bruce as to be a good sign.
'Any time that Master Bruce spent with Liv was always time well spent,' Alfred thought. Olivia had a wonderful way of being able to reach Master Bruce, even when Alfred couldn't. Master Bruce had often jokingly referred to Olivia as being his sister--yet in some ways, they were truly as close as siblings.
Alfred took a deep breath as he strode into the Batcave and was about to announce the treats he had brought--until he stopped short at the sight that was displayed before him.
A red-faced Olivia stood wiggling with a sheepish smile. Her torso was tightly covered in some sort of netting which pinned her arms up to her chest. She gave Alfred a little wave with one of her bound hands. "Hey, Alfred…help!"
Master Bruce, who was grinning broadly, held up the newly created net gun he had invented and said, "Now we know it even works on women, Alfred!"
Alfred could not help but burst into a broad smile at this scene. "Is this any way to treat our guest, Master Bruce?"
"Yeah," Olivia muttered in agreement, as she wagged a finger at Bruce. The sight of Olivia wagging her finger, with her bound hand so close to her chest, was outright comical. Realizing how silly she looked, Olivia abruptly shook her head. "Would somebody get me out of this thing, please?!"
"Here, here," Bruce said, as he came over with a knife. Once he sliced the netting loose from Olivia, Bruce pulled her close for an affectionate one-armed hug. "Thanks for being so patient, Liv."
"The things I do to help further the cause of fighting crime," Olivia muttered. Her mood brightened once she saw what was on the tray that Alfred had placed on the table. "Oooo, cookies!"
"Baked by none other than Master Grayson himself," Alfred told her. "He has returned to bed, after making himself something of a nuisance earlier."
"What do you mean?" Bruce asked.
"On my way down here to meet with you," Olivia said, in-between bites of a chocolate cookie, "I caught him following me. He almost caught me opening the secret passageway to the Batcave."
"Really?" Bruce said, looking thoughtful.
"Just a boyish prank, Master Bruce," Alfred assured him. "Which is very good news, since it's a sign that Master Grayson is starting to emerge from his grief."
"You're right, Alfred. But the last thing we need is for him to stumble onto the Batcave," Bruce said. He glanced sharply at Olivia and added, "God knows we don't need somebody else learning all our secrets…."
"Well, excuse me for living!" Olivia said through a mouthful of cookies.
Alfred was about to take his leave until he realized he had forgotten something. "Ah, yes, one more thing, Master Bruce. I heard on the news just now that Harvey Dent is back home."
Both Bruce and Olivia looked surprised to hear that. "Harvey's back?" Bruce said. "Did they say when he returned, Alfred?"
Alfred shrugged. "The news wasn't too clear on that point. They only said that he's been back in Gotham City for the past few days."
"Wasn't he holed up at some psychiatric place for the last few months?" Olivia asked.
"It was a retreat in the woods," Bruce replied, looking concerned. "Because of Harvey's agitated mental state after the attack, his psychiatrist had recommended it. I find it strange that he's been back for several days, and yet he hasn't contacted any of us yet."
"I understand that Mr. Dent had his plastic surgery postponed in order to go to this retreat," Alfred said. "Perhaps he's waiting until the surgery is done before he feels ready to contact his friends again."
"Yeah, but he could have still given us a phone call, at least," Bruce replied. "I'll call him tomorrow, see how he's doing."
"Hope he hasn't heard that Boss Thorne's back," Olivia said. "That might be enough to set poor Harvey off again."
B&B
"If that'll be all, Boss Thorne," Candace said, "I'll call it a night."
"I've got a meeting with somebody, but you go ahead, Candy," Thorne told her. "I won't be needing you for the rest of the evening."
Candace glanced at her watch. "You meeting somebody this late, Boss? He must be real important."
"He's just shy about anybody knowing about our relationship," Thorne said with a smile. "Which can pretty much be said for everybody who I deal with these days. Have a good night, Candy."
She nodded. "You too, sir."
Thorne sat back and lit another cigar as he waited in his office for his visitor to arrive. When he called Thorne on the phone, he sounded frantic--which was how Thorne liked to deal with his clients. Whenever they were desparate, that usually meant they would do anything to get their little problem fixed…which entailed a copious amount of money being thrown at Thorne.
After a few minutes of quiet reflection while enjoying his cigar, the intercom on Thorne's desk beeped. It was Spyder, his bodyguard, who was calling to let Thorne know that his client had arrived and was on his way to the office.
The door opened, and his client entered, looking more haggard than Thorne last remembered seeing him. "Good evening, my friend," Thorne said. "Or should I say, good morning?"
Yet Donald Hartford didn't appear to be in the mood for even jovial small talk. He glared at Thorne and said, "I've got a big problem…."
"So I've heard," Thorne said, his tone growing somber. "I'm very sorry to hear about your boy."
Hartford looked stunned. "How did you find out about Donny?!"
"It was on the late news," Thorne said. "Your boy's been arrested for kidnapping that girl who disappeared earlier today. They say he's confessed to several more abductions…and murders."
"Damn that Dawes bitch!" Hartford said, enraged. "She wasted no time in calling the press over this, did she?!"
"Ah, yes, the ever-delightful Rachel Dawes," Thorne muttered with a weary sigh. "I see you've also bumped heads with our eager-beaver District Attorney, as well. I take it she's the problem that you've come to see me about?"
Hartford nodded. "Yes, she is. I want you to take care of her."
Thorne sat forward in his seat behind the desk and removed the cigar from his mouth. "You mind being a little more specific, there? What do you mean, exactly?"
Donald Hartford pressed his hands on the top of Thorne's desk as he leaned forward. "I mean, I want you to get rid of Rachel Dawes, Thorne. I want that Dawes bitch dead by this time tomorrow night, understand?"
To Be Continued...