Bruce waited almost five minutes before Selina's eyelids fluttered.
She squinted at him. "Bruce?"
He smiled at her, "Hey, Sexy."
Selina, as she got her bearings, only became more confused. Her eyes roved in confusion. "What—how d—where..." Her voice faded as she lifted her Cat-gloved hands begore her face and realized with growing horror that she wore her Catsuit. She blushed and wouldn't look Bruce in the eye as she asked quickly, "Tell me this isn't what it looks like!"
"It is," Bruce answered simply. He helped her to her feet. "You were being drugged," he explained.
Selina whirled on him. "I was drugged?" she snapped, "You were the one playing Three In The Bed, buster! Which reminds me—" She delivered a swift kick to his crotch.
Bruce took it in stride, doubling over grinding his teeth against the pain. "Feel better?" he grunted from his crouched position.
"Only if you don't!" She fired back. Somehow, she was still furious at him for things he did while totally unaware of himself.
Bruce tried to make her understand. "Benton was drugging both of us, okay?He probably wanted us to kill each other."
Selina scoffed, "The way you've been acting? I wouldn't need drugs to make me want to kill you."
"Selina," Bruce sighed, "if you do, you're playing into his hands. Now if you'll just set all that aside, we can work together and get to Benton in time to stop him."
She looked at him sharply, "Wait a minute, did you say Benton? As in Marcus Benton?"
Bruce shook his head, "No, Benton Marcozzi, the stock-market millionaire from Gotham. Who is Marcus Benton?"
Selina shook her head. "Never mind; all it means is that this man loves his aliases. We were being played this whole time."
Bruce snorted, "Oh, now you tell me." His tone said, "It's about time!" and she resented that.
"You know, if I was supposed to be the one to survive that fight, I could just leave you here and go after him on my own."
Bruce pulled out the handheld computer that contained files detailing every security feature between them and Benton's office: coded doors, sweeping laser grids, and motion, heat, and pressure sensors, to name a few.
Selina eyed it jealously. Bruce slyly tucked the device back into his pocket.
"Oh, no you don't. This stays with me."
Selina rolled her eyes at him. "Don't be such a jerk. If Benton sees you with me, he'll know we're onto him."
Bruce smirked, "Oh, I don't know; maybe you should stay behind, so Benton will think I defeated you."
Selina frowned, "What good will that do?"
"It'll make me seem more intimidating, for one."
Selina leaned back and raised her hands. "Whoa, okay, let's park your ego and keep it there. We go together, or not at all."
Bruce spun on his heel and strode quickly toward the first obstacle. "Now that I can handle!"
The instant he approached the first set of rafters, Bruce heard a soft click and a steel door fell into place.
Selina stepped in front of him and smirked. "Genius," she muttered, studying it closely, "Now how are we going to get through it?"
Bruce pulled out a few small charges from his utility belt. "Stand back," he told Selina, moving to place them at strategic points around the door.
"That's your plan?" Selina cried, moving back down the hall, "Blow the door down? Need I remind you, Rambo, that we're in a house? The power of those charges could very well bring the whole place—" She stopped as the steel plate vanished, leaving Bruce's charges undetonated on the floor.
"Hmph," Bruce shrugged and retrieved them, "I guess all we had to do was—"
"Wait!" Selina called, but the instant Bruce crossed the crack containing the plate, it slid back into place, separating them.
"Dammit!" she shrieked, pounding on the impervious surface.
She could hear Bruce laughing. "Looks like you're going to have to wait till I get back!"
"Bruce, don't move!" Selina ordered, "I think the—"
She heard Bruce swear as the second plate slid into place.
"Come back toward this way, Bruce," she said, "I think there are pressure plates on either side of the doors. I'll move back toward the end of the wall, and maybe your weight standing near the door will keep it open."
"Why should I?" Bruce snapped. "I can just back up and—"
Selina raced away from the door, and sure enough, it lifted, revealing Bruce on the other side. "Stay right there!" she said, and raced across the crack. Sure enough, as long as Bruce stayed near the door behind him, it remained open. They both moved together toward the next opening, only to have it close right in front of them.
"Okay," Selina began to explain, "I think the hallway is made of pressure plates; the ones near the door make it close, while the ones further away open it up."
Bruce nodded in understanding, "So when I moved closer to the far side of the first wall, it opened the second wall—"
"While at the same time allowing me to open the first wall and keep it that way," Selina finished. "It looks like we're going to have to move forward one at a time, but still together."
"So..." Bruce glanced toward the opening ahead of them.
"Wait here," Selina stated, "I'll go through the opening first, and hold it for you." She moved past the second crack and waited.
Bruce took one careful step forward. Nothing happened. He proceeded cautiously all the way through, to stand by Selina.
She nodded to him. "Ready?" she asked.
Bruce nodded and kept walking. He stopped just on the other side of the opening, and Selina joined him. She repeated the trade-off once more, and they were through.
"So I was right about one thing," she muttered as they carefully made their way down the hall to yet another wing of the labyrinthian mansion, always on the lookout for booby traps of any sort.
"What?"
"You sure as hell couldn't have gotten past that without me."
Bruce winced, "You were right about that other thing, too, I guess."
Selina froze with all senses on alert. She held Bruce back.
"Motion sensor, ceiling, 10 o'clock," she warned.
Bruce pulled out his handheld computer and checked their location. "That's not all," he whispered. "There's a microphone at the end of the hallway, and the door has a keypad." He winked at her behind the cowl. "We go together, or not at all, right?"
Selina rolled her eyes. "Okay, I think I can make it past the motion sensor and disable it, along with the microphone." She pointed to the device, "Do you think that thing can decode the lock on the door?"
Bruce shrugged, "Not really; but I have other stuff I can use."
Selina stretched her arms to limber up before her go. "I'll let you know when it's safe," she told Bruce.
Selina leaped toward the wall and, as smooth as a shadow, she skirted the sensor's range just long enough to attach herself to the ceiling about six feet beyond it. Digging her claws into the ceiling for an anchor, she hung by her hands and swung her body upwards, smashing the sensor with the tips of her reinforced boots before it could emit a solitary beep. She flexed her toes, releasing the crawing spikes in her shoes. In this way, she crawled silently across the ceiling to the microphone. Ever so delicately, she planted the claws of one hand into the plaster, while with the other she dug into the wall and severed the wires in one pinch.
"Clear," she called softly to Bruce, lowering herself down as he ran to join her.
As it turned out, the door had a keypad, but one that required three six-digit passcodes.
"Damn," Bruce muttered.
"You don't think you can figure out all three codes?"
Bruce scoffed at her, "Of course I can! Why would you automatically assume that I couldn't? You think you're the only one that can get past these obstacles?"
"Okay, geez," Selina took half a step back, "don't be such a pricklepuss; I was just wondering."
"Watch who you're calling Puss, Cat," Bruce fired back. He removed his cowl and pulled a small UV flashlight out of a pouch on his belt. "I can figure this out, it will just take me a while." He scanned the keys on the number pad.
"Okay, the only keys with prints on them are 2,3,6,7, and 8."
"Good," Selina says, "That narrows it down from a few thousand to a couple hundred."
"The 3 was only pressed once, so we can assume that it's used in only one code. The 2 and the 7 have been used the most, it looks like, with the 6 even less so, and the 8 looking a bit sparse."
Selina nodded, calling on her experience as asafecracker to run through the list of possibilities. "Okay; it's probably not a birthdate, since the 3 is used only once, and the variation of numbers seems to be grouped somehow. Let's see...what would be a likely passcode source for someone like Benton?"
Bruce mused over the keypad as well. "It's too short to be a phone number or any kind of personal number; the keypad is arranged like a telephone pad, so we can assume the codes are word-related, so what words are important to—" Bruce stopped talking and studied the keypad keenly. Suddenly he smiled. "I have it!"
Selina watched him slowly enter the first code: 2-2-7-6-8-7. the box around the screen flashed green, and the second screen lit up.
"How did you figure it out?" Selina asked as Bruce entered the second code: 2-8-6-6-3-7.
"You helped," Bruce answered as the second code was accepted. "You said that Benton liked his aliases. I just now realized that every one of his three aliases included a six-letter name." He entered the last code, 6-2-7-2-8-7, and Selina realized that the codes spelled three names: Carmus, Cunner, and Marcus. The locks disengaged, and the couple entered a darkened room.
Neither said a word; years of experience had taught them to listen first when entering a strange environment.
A loud, slow clapping caused Bruce to flinch.
"Well done, both of you," a voice spoke out of the darkness. "I'll admit I would have liked it to take longer, so that I would only need to contend with one of you after I had finished my work, but I don't mind having this chance to congratulate you personally on a job well-done."
"Benton," Bruce guessed, moving closer to the source of the voice.
"Yes, indeed!" the voice crowed from the far corner of the room. "Welcome, Batman! I must say, your efforts to insure the success of my venture in the business of art-scamming have been most admirable. Why, with the checks I have coming to me from Wayne Tower, I can easily buy back the art that I also arranged to have stolen and forged."
Bruce decided to keep him talking. "Stolen by whom?"
He did not hear any movement, but suddenly the voice seemed to come from another corner. "None but the best."
Bruce wished he hadn't removed his cowl, because he could really use the night-vision right now. Something about the quality of Benton's voice struck him as odd. Bruce made a guess. "You're using speakers aren't you?" he inquired.
Benton chuckled, and the sound echoed around the room. "Of course; I knew I was dealing with Gotham's most deadly, so I took measures to protect myself. You'll understand if we don't meet face to face."
Bruce smiled; Benton was getting cocky. He knew that would rankle Selina. He could not see or hear her, but he guessed the reason for her silence and gave her a bit more time. "So keeping us in a dark room keeps you hidden," he said to the speakers around the room.
"That's the idea."
Only Bruce heard the soft swishing of a well-greased door on carpet. Selina was in position. "You forgot one thing, Benton."
"What's that?"
"One of us can see in the dark."
There was a loud thud, and a frightened voice gasped, "What the—Hel—gghkk!" His cry for help ended in a faint gurgle, as if choked off by something.
The next thing Bruce heard was a female voice ask drily, "Need a light?"
A click set the room electronically ablaze, and once his eyes adjusted, Bruce saw that he was standing in a study of some kind. A door stood at the far end of the room, presumably leading to Benton's office. Bruce slipped his cowl back on and entered the office.
Selina had temporarily stunned Benton with a blow to the throat, and now she had a length of nylon rope with which she bound him securely to his chair, securing his wrists and ankles with zip ties.
"He's ready," she told Bruce, stepping back to admire her work.
Bruce nodded, "Wake him up."
Selina grinned and pulled out her bullwhip. She snapped it right next to Benton's ear. The man revived instantly, and would have jumped right out of his chair if he were not secured so tightly.
"Oh dear," he still tried to play the calm, in-control persona, "it appears I am tied-up. Perhaps you can come back later when I'm not occupied!"
"Shut up, Benton!" Selina snapped, "I know you were the one who drugged us, and we want to know why!"
"Why?" Benton echoed blandly.
Selina snapped her whip so close to his face that he felt the sting, but it did not break his skin. "Why?" she thundered.
Bruce just stood and watched.
Benton sighed theatrically. "Oh well, I might as well explain it all to you, since you caught up to me anyway. My dear, I did it for money—money, and prestige. So many criminals have hosts of lesser goons in their employ, but I only wanted the best."
"Your aliases," Bruce interposed, "those were covers so that you could get multiple grants from Wayne Enterprises for empty promises."
"Ah, the Bat has a brain after all!" Benton sneered. "I was beginning to wonder, since you seemed to be so oblivious to it when it happened!"
"But it wasn't enough, was it?" Selina added, advancing dangerously toward the captive. "You set off your own alarms, stole your own valuables from your house in Gotham, knowing that since they were insured with Wayne Securities and Insurance, they would have to investigate or reimburse you for the phony theft."
"Of course! I had to get the Cat involved with my scheme against the museum; who else could I convince to steal the relics in just such a way so that I could come in behind and replace them with fakes?"
Selina blinked, "The dream!" she gasped user her breath.
"What dream?" Bruce asked.
Selina felt her whole body shaking with the realization of how deeply she had been played.
"You were going to get money from both sides," she accused, "and you were going to use me to get it."
"Almost," Benton agreed, giggling crazily in spite of his predicament. "You were just my method of switching the artifacts. I wanted Batman here to make sure that the police didn't get involved, but also to make sure that things didn't get out of hand, either. Three is a party, you know," he winked at her, "but ten is too much!"
Seeing him sitting there beside the desk, speaking in such a warm monotone reminded Bruce of his reocurring dream. He understood with a start that he would never have gotten the idea to bring his Batsuit or use his equipment to get to Benton if the dream had not suggested it. Benton had planned this from the very beginning.
"Too bad for you," Bruce growled. "Your plans didn't work. Let's load him up, Cat; Portland Police will get a nice package tonight."
Selina stepped forward and knocked Benton out with a well-placed punch. "It would be a pleasure!" she enthused.
Within the hour, Batman and Catwoman perched unseen on the roof of Portland's North Precinct building, watching as the bewildered detective read the full rap sheet pinned to the incapacitated criminal. Benton Marcozzi revived, and the police duly took him into custody.
Finally, Bruce nudged Selina. "Did you want to go back to Gotham tonight?"
Selina sagged, allowing the compounded fatigue to show for the first time.
"Actually, Bruce," she replied slowly, "I think you and I have some unresolved business to take care of; there's some things I think you should know, and they have to do with Benton."
Bruce blinked, "The dream you mentioned?" he queried.
Selina nodded, "It was the same dream over and over, and it started—"
"Three weeks ago," Bruce finished.
Selina gasped, "Bruce! You too? I thought—" she stumbled over her words in surprise. "Is...is that what you wouldn't tell me about?"
Bruce put his arm around her shoulder. "I think you're right; we do have some talking to do." He winked at her, "And I know a place where we can stay the night with some privacy."
