I don't own anything to do with Batman. I do own Eleanor Black, her parents, her background, her dog, her friends Adam and Shauna, the NanoShift technology, Ashlynn Chiang, her henchmen, background and this plot. This fic doesn't go along with the movie, which is why Rachel doesn't know that Bruce is Batman, and this fic has NOTHING to do with my other Batman fics. It's rated T for violence, blood, language and drinking. Maybe some mild sexual content. Oh, and some REAL bitchy-ness on the part of Eleanor. I hope you enjoy this fic.
Reflection of His Enemy
Chapter Seven / Gotham's Newest Criminal
"Anything interesting in the news today, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked, setting the tray laden with Bruce's breakfast on the bedside table. "Gotham has been fairly quiet lately."
Bruce quickly scanned the small print of the Gotham Times, looking for an inkling of anything interesting. The butler was right – Gotham had been quiet. As a matter of fact, for Gotham, the city had been downright silent. Sure, there had been a gaggle of muggers, would-be rapists and murders, and a few attempted large-scale robberies, but nothing from any of the "freaks", all of which were currently in Arkham Asylum, no doubt plotting their next escape. It had been three weeks since Adam had relayed the information about the NanoShift technology, and the only news he'd heard that was anywhere near the caliber of what Batman was used to dealing with were the reports coming out of the western and central United States of bank robberies abound with strange circumstances: suspects disappearing right under the police's noses and reports of suspects changing appearance to name a couple.
He had thought of the stolen technology right away, and had notified Lucius, Adam, Shauna and Eleanor. All had had the same thoughts, and they were already taking steps towards trying to locate and track whoever held the technology. Whoever had the NanoShift was moving erratically, but there was no doubt they were headed straight for Gotham City. All of the men Wayne Enterprises sent out after the machine were either killed or captive somewhere because they never reported back, and, only a week into the debacle, Lucius had stopped sending men; he didn't want those deaths on his hands. There was no way to track the NanoShift itself, because once the needle was lifted from the crate and the fluid containing the nanomachines was injected into whoever was using it, it became just a needle. It was too easy to just take the three samples from the crate and leave the box on the ship, and that was what had been done. The only way Lucius and the others could track the machine was by keeping their eyes on the newspapers and the newscasts and make note on the large map in Lucius office where the strange robberies were taking place.
Gordon now had access to all of the information pertaining to the NanoShift, and along with his hand-picked team, they were also keeping an eye on anything to do with the technology. Unfortunately for all parties involved, there was nothing beyond watching and waiting that could be done. Authorities had been altered along the predicted path of the robberies, but no one had been able to catch anyone involved in the crimes.
"Another robbery last night," Bruce said. He took a long drink from his glass of orange juice on the try and climbed out of bed. He tossed the paper onto the blankets behind him and dropped to the floor to the run through his morning exercises. "In New York. They're getting close."
"Has there been anything pertaining to the threats Ms. Black and Ms. Dawes received?"
Bruce paused only briefly to shake his head. Rachel had been freaking out about the threat since she'd received it, and he knew she was probably frazzled beyond belief. Eleanor, on the other hand, and pretty much ignored the threat, but Bruce couldn't be sure that wasn't her way of dealing with extreme situations. He was having trouble processing why the threats had been sent and then nothing being done about them. Bruce figured it was to set the girls on edge, to shake them up and effect their thinking patterns. Whoever had sent the threats didn't want Eleanor and Rachel thinking clearly.
"There hasn't been anything yet," he said finally. "That doesn't mean there won't be."
Alfred nodded, stepped around Bruce and headed towards the door, where he would be out of the way. He seated himself in a chair that was against the wall. "It seems Gotham is going to have a whole set of new problems as soon as the thief arrives." He tossed the towel draped over his arm to Bruce as the young man rose to his feet. "I wonder what the papers will name this one," he mused.
Bruce offered a gesture halfway between a smile and a scowl – it was a gesture only he could manage – and wiped his face with the towel. He finished the orange juice and downed the protein shake, which was a strange green-ish colour, in one gulp. He sat on the floor and began doing sit-ups at a dizzying fast rate.
"Lucius called last night while you were out. He wanted you to know that Eleanor got a hard copy of the files to Gordon along with the electronic copy, and that he's the only cop who knows about it. He wants you to stop by the office at some point today as well. He didn't say why." Alfred waited for some sort of response before continuing. "Ms. Black also called to confirm your plans for dinner tonight. She wants you to call her back, as soon as possible. And no, you won't be able to see her at the office, because it is her day off." Again, he waited for some kind of acknowledgement before saying what was next on his mental list. "If I may be bold for a moment, you and Ms. Black seem to be spending a lot of time together."
Finished with his exercise, Bruce fixed Alfred with a look and one raised eyebrow, and opened his mouth to say something snarky, but thought twice and started towards the bathroom. He and Eleanor were sort-of dating, and as weird as that would have sounded to normal people, it worked extremely well for them. In the past three weeks, they had gone out a few times, and they probably would have gone out more had Bruce not had obligations as Batman to attend to. And, if Eleanor was suspicious of where he went or what he was doing when he said he was busy, she didn't say anything, and she didn't show it. She seemed perfectly content to see Bruce when she could. Their relationship was next to perfect, but Bruce knew, and he was sure Eleanor knew, that it wouldn't last like this, that it couldn't for very long. Eventually, Eleanor would want to know what he was doing, and, by then, Bruce would feel obliged to tell her the truth. And then, then… he wasn't sure what would happen.
"I'll call her on the way to Wayne Enterprises," Bruce called over his shoulder. As he started the water for his shower, he could picture Alfred smiling and shaking his head and he left the room.
About forty-five minutes later, clean and dressed in one of the perfectly tailored suits that was the wardrobe of the public Bruce Wayne, he was in the car, headed for the unofficial centre of Gotham City. Alfred, from his spot behind the wheel, reminded Bruce immediately to phone Eleanor. He took the offered cell phone and dialed Eleanor's mobile number, knowing full well that she wouldn't be at home. It was sunny and bright, and even though it was chilly, it was bearable, and she would be at the park with her dog. After three rings, Eleanor answered.
"Hello?"
"Hello Eleanor. I've been insistently informed and reminded to return your call." He could hear her smiling.
"Tell Alfred I say thanks." There was a brief pause as she laughed. "So, are we still on for dinner tonight, or has something come up?" That was the closest she'd ever come to sounding suspicious.
"We're still on for dinner. I'll pick you up at seven, OK?"
"That's what we agreed on last week when we originally planned to go out for dinner. But, yeah, I'll be ready." There was a loud bark in the background, and Bruce heard Eleanor shuffle a bit, no doubt trying to attach Blaze's leash while maintaining a grip of some kind on her phone. "Well, I'll see you later then. Blaze is getting impatient, and my phone battery's getting low."
"All right. See you then." He ended the call and handed the phone back to Alfred, who had his hand out, waiting. "Eleanor wants to thank you for your persistence, by the way."
"It was no trouble at all, Master Bruce."
Ashlynn looked down at her hands and frowned in disgust as the skin bubbled before her eyes. It had started doing that after their third bank robbery in Colorado, and her only guess, which she was sure was the right one, was that it was some side effect of the liquid she had injected into herself back in California. The only other person who had seen this unfortunate turn was Sam, and he had promised his sister he wouldn't tell, and he also promised that once they got to Gotham, he would find someone to make a cure for her. But, as of right then, it wasn't painful, so she could deal with the awkward feeling of having your skin trying to expand and contract and shift all at the same time. The fact that all of their robberies had gone off without a hitch was helping her mood immensely, and she was eager to get to Gotham, where she could test her skills in the territory of The Batman.
A knock at her hotel door startled her. She pulled her turtleneck's sleeves down over her hands and barked, "Come in." When Finch appeared, she frowned more, and growled slightly in her throat. "What is it, Finch?" she snapped, balling her hands into tight fists at her sides. Another side effect seemed to be nasty moods, but that was something those around Ashlynn were used to, so no one had noticed those. Yet.
"Everything is set. We're ready to move on Gotham."
A devious smile slit Ashlynn's face in two. "Excellent." She maintained the supremely creepy gesture as the henchman disappeared into the hallway, and as she began to gather up her small amount of possessions. Things were just going peachy. Soon, she would put her plan for the ultimate revenge in motion.
Revenge for her neighbourhood.
For her family.
For herself.
She was twelve when it happened, Sam was sixteen. They had just moved to China from California, where their Chinese father and American mother had raised them, and they had settled into a very good life. Ashlynn and Sam were happy. But it didn't even last a year. The factory nearby which supplied most of the work for the people in their area exploded – a company that manufactured heavy arms, belonging to Wayne Enterprises exploded because of faulty machinery from other Wayne companies in America. Thousands of people died. Many, many more were severely injured. Many families had been destroyed and many lives were ruined. Sam and Ashlynn had lost their parents, their friends and their whole life because someone at Wayne Enterprises had missed the fault in the machinery.
So they left; headed for Hong Kong, where their sole relative, an aunt, lived. Ashlynn, who was the brains in the sibling duo, researched Wayne Enterprises and found herself and her brother someone to blame. Bruce Wayne. It had taken years for her to forge the necessary bonds, find the needed tools and build the perfect plan to exact her revenge upon the billionaire, Gotham's favoured son, but all that time had paid off and Ashlynn was pleased with herself.
Another knock at the door. "What?" she barked again, this time a lot less friendly.
"Whoa, it's just me, Ash," Sam said as he shut the door behind him. There was an excited quality in his voice, and the faintest of glint in his watery gray eyes.
She sighed. That was as much of an apology as anyone got.
"The car's out front. We're just waiting for you to head out and we'll follow." By "we", he meant the henchmen, which Sam had appointed himself captain of, and he was doing an excellent job of holding that post, but Ashlynn would never tell him that.
"I'll be down in a minute."
In less than the mentioned time, Ashlynn climbed into the sleek black sedan – her car of choice because it was inconspicuous on top of being a decent vehicle and able to get her from point A to point B. Finch nodded once from his place behind the wheel, and then stuck his arm out the window and waved it forward, signaling to the other cars, placed around the area in a way so they wouldn't look like the mob they were, to move out.
Ashlynn grimaced as her skin continued to bubble beneath her sweater.
"Can we not talk about work at all? Please?" Eleanor put a pleading look into her eyes as she pulled another bite of steak off her fork. Bruce, sitting across the table from her gave her a look, prompting her to continue speaking, allowing her to pick the topic of conversation. "So what? I have to provide the conversation and the company?" she asked, smirking slightly.
"I'm tempted to say 'yes'."
Eleanor suppressed the childish urge to throw her napkin at him, and settled for a playful glare. They were, after all, sitting at the best table in one of the most expensive, highest-class restaurants in Gotham City, and she had a feeling such a display would not be very welcome. This was the second time her and Bruce had come to this restaurant – she thought it was called Basics, but she couldn't be sure – and she still couldn't get over how dressed up some people got to go out for dinner. Granted, she was wearing a dress, knee-length and the colour of red wine, and she was made up, but some of the women still made her look like she was dressed in rags. Bruce, a master of fitting into his billionaire society, was dressed to the nines and looked brilliantly handsome, as usual.
"Well, fine." Eleanor took a lengthy sip from her glass of wine, and opened her mouth to say something, but there was a loud thud from the direction of the front doors, and the host flew into the main dining room. "What the hell?" Her and Bruce exchanged confused looks as she tossed her napkin on the table and rose to her feet.
Bruce rose to his feet as well. "Eleanor, I think you should get out of here."
"What?"
Five large men barreled into the dining room after the host, brandishing weapons and fierce snarls. The smallest man, who was so obviously in charge of the others, stepped forward and pointed his gun at the forehead of a nearby diner: a middle-aged woman who promptly began to sweat and shake fear; Eleanor could faintly hear her muttering "Please don't kill me" over and over again. Her pleas fell on deaf ears.
"We want jewels, money and anything else of value."
A young man seated beside the woman stood up, protest in his eyes. The man with the gun shot him. Blood sprayed over anyone close enough and several people screamed. Eleanor stood, mouth gaping.
"Anyone else got anything to say?"
"Eleanor," Bruce hissed. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her backwards, towards the kitchen. "If we go out the back, we should be able to get away safely."
"What about all the people?" The big men had started moving through the crowd snatching up anything they could get their hands on. "We can't just leave them…" She started to pull back to the dining room, but Bruce shoved her into the hot kitchen and towards the open back door. "Bruce-"
He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Eleanor, there's nothing you can do. Not unless you think getting yourself killed would do any good. You need to get out of here."
She opened her mouth to protest more, but shut it again, tightly, the jaw muscles beneath her ears bunching. "Fine, but you're coming with me."
They stepped into the back alley and started towards the street, Eleanor not-so-silently cursing her heels. They had only taken a few steps when there was a loud explosion from the direction of Gotham National Bank, and seconds later, a black cloud of smoke arose from the bank's roof to confirm suspicions. There was a chorus of screaming as the street was thrown into darkness. The explosion had evidently knocked out the street lights and probably electricity to a good chunk of the nearby buildings. Eleanor freed herself from Bruce's arms where she had retreated when the explosion went off, and started towards the bank.
"Eleanor, are you crazy? First you get a death threat which doesn't seem to faze you all that much and now you're heading towards the source of an explosion? What is the matter with you?"
People had started running through the alley, also looking for means of escape. Eleanor stepped out of the way and moved so she was standing in front of Bruce. "Sorry… Let's just get out of here." She let Bruce take her hand and lead her to safety again; leaving Bruce to think maybe the threat on her life had affected her more than he'd thought.
"Bruce! Eleanor!"
They both turned and watched as Rachel ran towards them. She was dressed similarly to Eleanor in a dress and heels, and seemed to having the same troubles navigating the uneven ground of the alley. The district attorney leaned against the brick wall, breathing heavily.
"Do you know what's going on? These big men just came into the restaurant where I was having dinner and starting demanding money and valuables from everyone, and then there was that explosion…" She looked at Bruce for an explanation, but when he just shrugged, she looked to Eleanor.
"The same thing happened where we were eating."
More people ran past them, and a particularly overeager man shoved the women to the ground as he passed. When they made it back to their feet and the ringing had cleared from their heads, they realized they were alone. Bruce was gone.
"Well, I guess we're on our own," Eleanor grumbled, brushing the snow from her dress.
Another explosion rocked the air, and more smoke rose, darkening the sky. Forgetting their dislike for one another, the women clasped hands and ran for the mouth of the alley. The bank, on the corner of the next block, had a mob of Gothamites standing around, gawking as police and criminals ran around, bullets and blood flying in every direction. Most of the fighting seemed to be contained within the building, and since the police weren't succeeding in getting people to leave, they had contented themselves with keeping them back a fair distance, and the back of that mob butted up against the alley, so, even if they hadn't wanted to observe, Rachel and Eleanor would have been pressed into the mob, blocking any chances of escape from the scene altogether.
"What the hell is going on?" Rachel demanded.
"I have no idea."
Another explosion, bigger than first two, detonated, and knocked most of the crowd off their feet. Instead of screaming though, there was scattered cheering. Batman had arrived.
Rachel watched in disbelief as Eleanor pushed herself to her feet and then barreled forward, elbows out, to the front of the mob, eager to watch the Batman in action. Was the woman stupid? Had the consecutive explosions knocked all the sense from her head? Sighing, Rachel followed the path of separated spectators. She didn't understand how Eleanor could not be terrified, could not be afraid that she was going to die at any moment. She didn't understand the woman at all, but there was something to knowing even one person, even someone you hated, and having them close in a situation such as the one their were currently in.
"Eleanor!" she called. "What are you doing? You're going to get killed."
The younger woman didn't respond, just kept her cobalt eyes glued to the front of the bank, into which Batman had disappeared only moments ago.
"Eleanor! Let's get out of here before we get hurt."
Two bodies came flying out one of the high windows in the bank, drawing all attention upwards. One was obviously Batman, and the other was obviously a woman. They tumbled through the air, heading straight for the crowd. People screamed and scattered, but as Rachel realized she was directly in the path of the human projectiles, she found her feet weren't listening to her brain. She couldn't pull her eyes away, and just before she was crushed, someone tackled her to the side and put themselves in her place.
Batman and the criminal had half-knocked over and half-landed on Eleanor. As the fight moved on, Rachel crawled over to Eleanor and shook her gently. "Eleanor, are you OK? Eleanor?"
"I'm fine," she breathed.
"Don't lie."
"I think some ribs might be broken."
Rachel choked her next words out. "Thank you."
Eleanor smiled. "I may hate you, but that's no reason for me not to save you if the opportunity presents itself." She agonizingly pushed herself into a sitting position. "To erase any potentially long-standing debt, could you take me to a hospital?" Her voice became more strained with every word and the colour continued to drain from her face.
"Of course."
Batman headed back to the cave an hour later in a foul mood; he was so angry he noticed nothing besides the street whizzing by in front of him as he drove. He had identified the woman as the leader almost immediately and had chased her through a series of alleys and streets towards the ocean, but at the last minute, just before they would have hit the water, the blonde had disappeared. She had rounded a corner and she was gone by the time Batman had arrived. In fact, there wasn't anyone in the street.
The only explanation that fit the circumstances and the M.O. of the robbery was the NanoShift. The woman he had chased was the one who had the technology. She had finally reached Gotham.
The Batmobile skidded to a half in its normal place and Bruce removed Batman's cape and cowl almost as soon as his feet touched the cave floor. He had to phone Gordon, and at some point, he would have to phone Eleanor, make sure she was OK from having him and the woman knock her over, and make up some excuse for why he disappeared right when they were supposed to be running for their lives. He'd have to tell the same excuse to Rachel.
"Master Bruce?" Alfred appeared at exactly the right moment, as he had become quite adept at doing, and surveyed his charge. "No injuries tonight?"
"No. I escaped with only minor bumps and bruises."
"Good news, sir. Ms. Black phoned. Would you like to hear her exact message or my summarized version?"
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Her message, please."
"I believe it was: 'I thought you might like to know that I'm at the hospital right now and I have three broken ribs. Of course, I could be wrong in assuming you want to know that. Oh, and when you want to tell me why you disappeared, I'll be glad to listen.'" Alfred cleared his throat once to let Bruce know he was finished. When Bruce didn't say anything, the butler continued. "If you'd like, I could come up with a story for you."
The look Alfred received made him quirk one corner of his mouth up in a smile. "I think I should deal with this on my own, Alfred."
"Wise choice, sir."
Ashlynn threw the lamp at Finch's head and screamed as it shattered just slightly to the left. "WHAT THE FUCK WENT WRONG?" she raged, picking up another lamp to thrown.
Sam grabbed her wrist from behind and seized the lamp from his sister. He was wise enough not to tell her to calm down, and he knew he probably shouldn't restrain her, but that's what he did, afraid she'd do something she'd regret later. "Ash," he said, ignoring her growls and struggles to get free. "You knew this was going to happen. You knew that as soon as we stepped foot in Gotham that the Batman would mess up your plans." For a moment, Sam actually thought Ashlynn was going to bite him, her teeth were bared so much, and he breathed a sigh of relief when she wrenched her arm free and stalked to the window.
"But we were so close to getting that money."
"Why do you want the money so bad?" Finch asked.
Ashlynn hurled a pillow at him before roaring, "IT'S NOT ABOUT THE GOD DAMNED MONEY!"
"ASHLYNN!" Sam yelled, significantly louder than the small woman. What the hell is the matter with her? She's not usually this worked up. "How about we stop throwing things," he suggested.
That earned a pillow hurled at him.
"WOULD YOU BOTH JUST SHUT UP?!" Ashlynn sighed louder than Sam felt was necessary and turned her fiery gaze to Finch. "It's about pulling off a successful operation even with the Batman looming over us. Why can't you see that? I'm going to have think up counter measures if the flying rat is going to get in the way no matter what."
Sam couldn't resist. "You'd better get started on those counter measures then."
Ashlynn grabbed the heaviest thing she could find, which just happened to be the lamp Sam had rescued moments before, and threw it at her brother. He caught it, set it back down on the table and walked out of the room, letting Finch take the full force of his sister's anger. In the dark hallway, he leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting with his legs out straight, his feet almost touching the other wall. Ever since Ashlynn had injected herself with that stuff, she'd been acting strange, and Sam knew he wasn't the only one to notice. The men were talking, and they were all afraid, some for their lives.
Another thing Sam knew, things in Gotham were about to get very sour.
Author's Note… So I lied. I changed the name of the chapter. What happened this time was I smushed the planned chapter seven and chapter eight together and took the title of planned chapter eight because I like it better. Also, chapter seven would have been really short if I had left it alone. Yay for editing-as-you-write!
And yes, I realize Ashlynn's "pickle" is rather run-of-the-mill-revenge-plot. So sue me.
Anyways, sorry it's taken me a while to get this up. I've been rather busy with school and reading a copious amount of Batman comics, and two fanfiction that I'm currently addicted to. They're the two most recent additions to my favourite stories, so go check 'em out. March and April are probably going to be pretty busy months, since it's the last month of school and then exams. Wee, fun. And Shauna's got her surgery and there's three or four birthday parties and a whole list of other things to do. All before my birthday. Which is a hell of a lot sooner than I thought. I mean, it's not until May, but the way time's been going, that'll be here in a blink.
OK, I'll shut up now.
Next Chapter: Christmas Approach-eth. And the beginning of the end of something-or-other-having-to-do-with-freedom for Eleanor. That vague enough for ya? I'm seriously tired. Lost like, 3 hours of sleep last night because the damn fire alarm went off at 5 in the morning and we didn't get back inside the building until 7. We had to stand outside for all that time in the cold in our pajamas. And then I had to climb 24 flights of stairs and then I had to get back to sleep.
OK, I'll seriously shut up now. Enjoy.
