~ The Dynamic Duo ~
Daire and Clone were in a hotel room, curtains ajar. The door was locked tight, and a television provided background noise.
Daire finally moved her gaze, lowering the binoculars and handing them to Clone.
"He's not doing anything," Clone observed. He was in the same place he was ten minutes before, which was the last time he got a turn with the binoculars. He was so bored. He wondered how Daire managed to stay focused on something so dull. "Now would be easy to carry out the mission." He glanced at the sniper rifle laying proudly on the bed.
Daire, not glancing at him, knew what he meant. "That's not the way the League does things."
"Sometimes they do."
Daire sent him a stern warning look. "That is only to be used as a last resort. We came here for a job. Do not fire unless I give the signal, and for the love of God don't shoot me!"
Clone frowned. Why would she feel the need to say that? To him, it was fairly obvious. What kind of moron had she been forced to team up with in the past?
Daire left the room, her strides purposeful. She let the door slam shut behind her, letting it lock automatically by itself.
Clone lifted the rifle, setting the tripod and gun on the table. He may not have as many hours of practice as Daire, but he was always told his genetics gave him an upper hand for everything. He'd had enough practice to know he was a great shot.
Not perfect, like Daire (yet), but skillful.
He watched the lazy, fat man though the scope, finger extended passed the trigger, straight but ready. The target jerked his head towards the door, muttering something under his breath as he forced himself up.
He walked back into the room, this time followed by Daire. She was in a black outfit with a white apron. Excluding the apron, she did not appear to be one of the employees. The man didn't seem to care, letting her right into his room. She pushed a cart flooded with shiny plates, contents hidden by big domes.
He waved her off, saying something Clone couldn't hear. Clone felt his anger rise when Daire bent over some to appear to do some last minute preparations for the man's food. She was actually putting on her mask. The sick eyes stared at the rising skirt. Clone wrapped his finger over the trigger, wanting to pull it.
Then Daire turned around, a large knife in hand. The man didn't seem the least bit frightened. Surprised but not fearful. The man responded to her, so Clone assumed she said something. He couldn't see her clearly. She danced right along the edge of his sight.
Boldly, Daire strutted up to the man. She leaned forward, and the man's greedy eyes flickered to her bust. Clone clenched his teeth.
Suddenly, Daire's arm flew, and the man's eyes widened in pained shock.
Daire spun around, catching his stare. She sent a quick signal: it was time to leave. She pulled off her apron, hiding the bloody cloth under her arm. She bunched it up just right, hiding stains from prying eyes. She away walked casually.
Side mission: complete.
Time to focus on Batman again.
Swiftly, Clone packed up and left.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
"What did you just do?" a deep voice asked Daire.
Daire didn't answer, throwing a star.
Batman, of course, dodged it with ease.
Daire knew the bat worked mainly at night, but she didn't expect him to catch her red handed. She kept her breath even. She was trained for this. Batman wouldn't escape.
Two heads with one blade. Nice.
At least Daire wouldn't have to waste time trying to catch his attention and find him. Here he was, standing before her.
Presented to her just like a gift.
"Robin, don't!" Batman ordered, giving Daire a heads up.
She ducked to the side, getting out of the way. Robin landed heavily on the spot she had been standing. That move. . . Could it be?
No. Impossible.
Daire rushed forward, trying to take out Robin. Everyone knew Robin was Batman's weakness. If she could take down Robin, Batman's focus would be split. He would be easier to kill.
Robin, however, blocked her punch, leaning into one of his own. With her other arm, she barely managed to redirect it. She spun around, twisting Robin's arm behind his back. She tugged upwards, making him grit his teeth.
Batman darted forward to help his partner, but Daire forced a step back, bringing her knife to his throat.
She clicked her tongue in a taunting warning. As expected, Batman froze.
"Don't. You. Dare," he growled.
The knife pressed deeper into Robin's skin. Daire knew she wouldn't do it. Robin wasn't her target. And she didn't kill kids. Robin was safe from her wrath.
But Batman didn't know that.
Robin sucked in a breath, and Daire could tell he was about to speak. She dug the knife further into his skin, careful not to break it. She didn't want to hurt him.
His voice croaked, "Batman, do it."
Batman didn't move, his worry for the boy preventing action.
Daire suddenly released the boy, using his shoulder as leverage to flip over him. Her feet firmly together, she kicked Batman right in the face. He stumbled back from the force, and Daire quickly went to work.
With his build, she knew her weight wouldn't keep him pinned down. She was relying solely on his shock. She twirled the knife, aiming it to drive deep in his neck. Deep enough to kill, but not instantly. Daire wanted his last moments alive to be bitter and painful. Chocking on his own blood seemed good enough. She had wanted to draw out his death- torture him- but from his files, it would be a poor choice. He had a nasty habit of escaping. So, this would need to be quick. But it didn't need to be painless.
A blunt disk smacked her hand, sending the knife flying. The blade grazed Batman's chin, leaving a shallow cut.
At this point, Batman had recovered, rolling them over and pinning her down. She grunted, fighting to free her wrists from his firm grip.
"Who. Are. You?"
She didn't answer, continuing to struggle. The position was forcing her back in time, and she began to shake. Her breathing picked up, and her struggles became blind and desperate.
The bat wouldn't relent. He eased his hold but kept her down.
Daire forced herself back to reality. Gritting her teeth, she brought up her leg, making Batman roll over in pain. He wore a cup, so he'd get over the pain quicker
Daire darted forward, reaching for his neck. If she couldn't slice his throat, she'd snap his neck. Not a painful death, but her brother's murder would be avenged.
Suddenly, a leg swung out, forcing her back. Daire let out a grunt, rolling onto her hand and pushing herself up. She landed gracefully on her feet, her gaze catching the knife she lost.
Robin let out a yell, lunging for her. She flipped over him, but he expected it and yanked her down. Her hand flew to the part of her mask around her mouth, struggling to keep her face hidden.
Daire hit the floor, her head bouncing. Before she could blink away the dots, she swiped Robin's legs out from under him. She rolled onto of him, pressing harshly onto a pressure points.
In seconds, Robin was unconscious.
Or he should have been.
Moments before he went out, she was yanked back. A mad bat threw her back, no longer caring for her age.
"Where'd you learn that?" he growled.
Daire blinked, wondering if he recognized the move. It hadn't been a part of her training with the League. It was something she learned before their mother deemed Damian old enough to be sent away. Most of his training was done with the League. Daire had a few trainers outside the League.
She ran over the list of places the Batman trained. According to the files the League had on him, he shouldn't have known. But, as powerful as the League was, they didn't know everything. And Batman was hard to keep track of at times.
Robin let out a string of coughs, his masked eyes glancing up in almost disbelief. "Batman-"
Before he could say anything else, Daire threw down a smoke bomb.
She wasn't a fool. She had lost this battle.
But she'd get another chance. And she'd win the war.
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
"Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" Clone proclaimed the moment Daire stepped into the safe house. He rushed to the door, yanking her inside.
Daire smiled, remembering the time she taught him the phrase. "I ran into the infamous dynamic duo," she casually answered.
Clone's attention peaked, eyeing her for injuries. None were noticeable. "Batman? Are you hurt? What happened?"
Daire gave him a reassuring touch, resting her hand on his arm before shrugging off her gear. "I'm fine. Almost got him, too, but his pesky little sidekick got in the way."
"We'll get him," she was assured.
She stiffened. "I know. I'll avenge my little brother if it's the last thing I do."
Clone's heart clenched at the thought of her dying. She was unbeatable. He couldn't believe she'd lose a battle, let alone die in one. It just wasn't something he could imagine. Not something he wanted to imagine, either. While he loved his biological mother, this blood sister of his had taught him kindness, love, care, and how to smile. Daire is the one who taught him gentleness and tenderness. He remembered, at first he thought the girl was foolish. Thought the way she stop to watch a butterfly or a bird was a waste of time. Thought the way she didn't hit to kill was weak.
But now he knew better.
Killing doesn't mean you are strong.
Knowing when and when not to kill is intelligence. Acting on that knowledge is patience. And not killing when provided the chance is strength.
Talia Al Ghul didn't believe that, though.
It was where mother and daughter butt heads the most.
Talia wasn't for killing all willy nilly (as Daire once put it) but neither does she go out of her way to protect civilians. She'd sooner kill everyone to get to her target, regardless of innocence. To Talia, the end justify the means.
"Have you ever thought about a name?"
"Hmm?" he hummed, pulled out of his thoughts.
"A name. Ever thought of getting one?"
"My name is Clone."
Daire sighed, "No, it's not. It's what you are."
"Isn't that a name?"
"I'm human. It doesn't make my name Human. Damian is the original, doesn't make his name Original."
He nodded, understanding. "A name? For me?"
"Yeah, surely you don't want to be called Clone forever." Daire nonchalantly made her way to the kitchen. She made a quick stop at the freezer, pulling out an ice pack and pressing it to the back of her head. She flung the pantry open, frowning at the lack of nutritious food. She settled for a package of Pop Tarts, muttering about going to the store later.
Clone didn't know of many names. To be honest, it wasn't something he thought about. He was known as Clone. Being the only surviving clone, he thought the name was of honor.
"Any ideas?"
Daire plopped down on the used couch, popping a piece of her snack into her mouth.
"Not really," he admitted. He glanced at the ice pack she held. "What happened?"
She shrugged, nonchalantly. "Like I said, ran into the infamous dynamic duo."
"Did they hurt you?"
"It's nothing I can't handle."
Clone shook his head, remembering when he had said that to her. "That's not what I asked."
She must have remembered too, for she gave a small smirk.
She flipped on the television, quietly warning, "Emotional attachment is dangerous, you know."
And that worried Clone. That shoulders a lot like her mother and not at all like Daire. But he didn't say a word.
