December 21st, 2006

Christmas in Gotham

I've never particularly cared for the Christmas season. This excursion didn't exactly change my mind.

-E. Nigma, Private Investigator

Edward Nigma pored over the photos from his latest case. Standard really. An elderly millionaire had suffered a heart attack and conveniently left all of his money to his widow, a model less than a third his age. Only, the heart attack was actually brought on by an overdose of a male enhancement drug. And who had access? Who stood to benefit? Did one even need to ask? It was only a matter of tracing her purchase to the drug store close by the gym where she'd been conducting an affair with her personal trainer and then-

"This is boring. I thought being a PI was more exciting!"

Edward looked up from the photographs to the bored teenager sitting in front of his desk. Edward was used by now to visitors, but his daughter was still something of a novelty. "Contrary to what pulp fiction and the movies might tell you," he said "Most private investigative work is fairly routine."

Ellen leaned forward, one hand on her chin. "Yeah, but you were a super villain! Doesn't that mean you get really juicy gigs?"

If you only knew. "I've had my share of 'juicy' cases yes. They aren't ones I'll ever let you tag along on though."

Ellen sulked. "Lame." She leaned back in the chair. "When you said I could come over today, I didn't think I'd be stuck in your office all day."

"We'll go out later," Edward said, turning his attention back to the photos. "I need to finish this first. Listen to that ancient Walkman of yours for a bit."

"My batteries died."

"Then why don't you sketch something?"

Ellen stretched out dramatically. "I'm not feeling inspired."

"That sounds like a personal problem. Did you bring a book?"

Ellen shook her head, then cast her eyes towards Edward's filing cabinet. "Can I look at your old case files?"

"Absolutely not."

Ellen pouted. "Aww. Why not?"

Edward was becoming increasingly more impatient. "Well for one, those are confidential. Second, they aren't even remotely appropriate reading material for children."

Ellen stuck out her tongue. "I'm 15, not a kid!"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Well, that certainly convinced me."

Ellen sank down in the chair with a huff. "Boring old man."

Edward's eyebrow twitched. "What have I told you about calling me that?"

A smirk came to Ellen's face. "Sorry Pops." It was in these moments that Edward saw how much she took after him. That was the most frustrating thing about her. He sighed and looked at his photos. Perhaps if he'd found out about her when she was younger, it would be easier to connect with her. There was something almost pleasant about young children, before society's adulation of willful ignorance stifled their natural curiosity and wonder of the world around them. Teenagers though? He hadn't particularly liked them when he was one and adulthood had only made him like them less. To get saddled with one as obstinate as Ellen, in addition to everything else he had on his plate seemed more like a punishment than a blessing at times. Still, she was his and she was still very young. There was time to mold her into something more acceptable.

Ellen let out another huff. "I'm still booored!"

"You don't have to stay here," Edward said, his patience nearly at an end. "If you're this bored, go off and do something. I'll meet you later."

Ellen sulked. "Kicking your kid out this close to Christmas? Harsh Pops."

"Ellen, you know I detest that nickname and it's not anywhere near-" Edward glanced at his desk calendar. Oh. December 21st. Christmas Eve was three days away. And he hadn't done any shopping. "Oh Hell."

A mischievous look came to Ellen's face. "You haven't done any shopping have you?"

Now it was Edward's turn to huff. "In my defense, it's not like I have many people to shop for. Have you?"

Ellen's smile fell a bit. "No." Her face lit up. "That's what we should do! We should go shopping together!"

Edward wasn't thrilled at this prospect, but he couldn't think of much else to do with her. "I see it was only a matter of time before you succeeded in dragging me to a mall."

Ellen shook her head. "I don't wanna go to a mall, I wanna go to that open air market in the Bowery! The one under that big glass dome! I heard it's really cool! Can we go?"

Edward's enthusiasm plunged. "Do you mean Jezebel Center?" Please say no.

Ellen nodded eagerly. "Yeah!"

Edward stifled a curse. "Ellen," he said. "Jezebel Center is a poorly laid out tourist trap filled with overpriced garbage even Cluemaster wouldn't steal."

Ellen was deterred by this description in the slightest. "But it's got lights set up everywhere! My friend Marisol said that the glass dome lights up at night too! Can't we check it out? Please?"

Edward rubbed his temple with his fingers. Jezebel Center was going to be a zoo this time of year. That and not only was it a tourist magnet, it was a beacon for all sorts of scoundrels who were looking to make a quick buck ripping off the customers. That and he was pretty sure he was banned from at least half of the stores in the complex. The look on Ellen's face however, showed that she wouldn't be denied.

"Very well," he said in a resigned tone. The smile on Ellen's face made this somewhat more palatable for him. Somewhat. "Just give me a few minutes to finish this. Then we need to go to my apartment so I can change. Then we'll go."

Ellen raised her arms up and let out a whoop. "You're the best Pops!"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "If I'm going to take you to this madhouse, can't you at least call me something other than 'Pops'?"

"Sorry Old Man."

"ELLEN!"

I already regret this.

They'd been stuck in a traffic jam on 34th street for the past twenty minutes. Edward glared at the flashing red lights ahead and let out an impatient sigh. It seemed every time it snowed in this cursed city, some idiot would insist on getting in a wreck and making everyone else suffer for their incompetence. Besides him in the passenger seat, Ellen was too busy looking at the lights of Downtown Gotham City to pay much attention to the traffic, or to her irritated father. Edward paused to consider her for a second. "Have you never been in this part of the city?"

"I have a few times, on school trips. My Mom took me to the fine arts museum by the Iceberg Lounge once or twice too. I've never been on Christmas though." She craned in her seat to get a glimpse of the glass dome above the Jezebel Center, just visible in the distance. Her grin was wide. "This is going to be so cool!"

Finally, the car ahead pulled forward and Edward put his foot on the gas. His car slowly lurched forward. By Edward's estimation, it would easily take another twenty minutes to get to the damn center. Or not. Edward turned right down an alley way. Ellen looked confused. "Wait. Where are we going?"

"One of the benefits of my profession: I know where to park a car out of sight." Edward found a spot next to an abandoned store front. This would do. He parked the car. "I hope you don't mind a bit of a walk, but this is better than being stuck in that traffic jam."

"I don't care," Ellen said, unbuckling her seat belt. "I was the one who said we should take the subway." She opened her car door and took a look at the alley way. She looked back at Edward as he got out of the car. "Are you sure you're not going to get towed?"

"That won't be a problem." Edward answered. Being friends with the man who ran the Bowery helped. Edward gestured back towards the main street. "Shall we?"

He barely finished his sentence before Ellen was tearing towards the Center. Edward actually had to quicken his pace somewhat. Eager child. "Don't run!" He called out after her. "You'll slip on the ice!"

"No I won't!" Ellen called back. "It's not even that icy! Hurry up Old Man!"

Edward frowned. "What did I tell you about calling me that? Slow down! Stay where I can see you!"

Ellen reluctantly came to a stop, letting Edward catch up to her. "There," he said. "Honestly, one would think you've never been allowed out of your house with how you're carrying on."

Ellen rolled her eyes. "Whatever." The two of them resumed a slower pace towards the center, weaving through the crowd. Edward slowed his pace so that he was walking directly behind Ellen, keeping his attention on the mob around them, making sure he was ready to react to anything that might happen. One of the many conditions Ellen's grandmother had set in order for him to have a relationship with her, and one that he happened to agree with, was that he would not publicly acknowledge that Ellen was his daughter. Hence the return to his apartment to change. He was dressed in a long, dark green winter coat and black dress slacks, without his signature hat, or even his purple glasses, instead wearing standard tinted shades. The only Riddler affectation he had on him was his cane, because one could never be too careful. Luckily, outside of his choice in usual fashion, he was so physically indistinct that he'd be unrecognizable to his fellow Gothamites, barring perhaps the GCPD or other Rogues. Tonight, he was just an average father on an outing with his daughter. So far, as the two of them walked unmolested towards the entrance to Jezebel Center, it was working. No one had paid them a second thought.

Ellen ran up to the front entrance and paused. She turned back towards Edward, her green eyes almost comically wide. "This is so cool!" she squealed. Edward wasn't quite as enthusiastic. Jezebel Center was an outdoor shopping complex about two stories tall, with a few dozen stores and boutiques ranging from the kitschy to the high end tucked along the balconies. The glass dome was directly above them, but the lights were dimmed in the late afternoon light. Hopefully, Ellen wouldn't want to stay too late. It was expected to snow again that night and Edward hated winter almost as much as he hated summer in Gotham. Seeing the smile on Ellen's face though made him feel indulgent. Ellen jogged up to the directory posted just by the front staircase. "Where do I wanna go?" she asked herself, running a finger down a line of store names. "You've been here before, right Pops? Where should we go first?"

Edward hummed as he scanned the shop names. He'd been here before alright. He'd held up at least four of these stores. "I'd suggest finding a stationary store. I need to pick up a few knick knacks for Nina and Dierdre."

Ellen looked up at him with a blank expression. "Nina and Dierdre?" she asked. Then her eyes lit up. "Oh! Query and Echo!"

"Not so loud," Edward hushed her. "And they haven't gone by those names for a long time."

Ellen nodded. "OK." She looked back at Edward with a smile. "So, they weren't just your henchgirls, right? They're your friends too?"

Edward nodded. "They are. The both of them are very dear to me." Edward thought of them and a fond smile came to his face. "You could almost say that the two of them are like sisters to me."

"Sisters huh?" Ellen laughed a bit. "Does that make them my honorary aunts?"

Edward considered this for a moment. "I suppose it would." Nina especially would get a kick out of that. "The two of them would like to meet you one of these days."

"Really?" Ellen almost squeaked and it made Edward's heart hurt a bit. For all her teenage stubbornness, she was still so young. "That'd be awesome! They'd be the coolest aunts ever. They can teach me how to shoot a gun and ride a motorcycle!"

Edward dramatically placed his hand over his heart. "You haven't known me for six months and you already want to kill me! There will be absolutely none of that!"

Ellen pouted. "Ah, why not?"

Edward arched an eyebrow at her. "Why-do you really need to ask why not?"

Ellen huffed. "OK, maybe not the gun. What about the motorcycle lessons?"

"When I'm dead and buried," Edward answered without missing a beat.

Ellen pouted. "Boring old man. And how would you even enforce that? I don't live with you!"

"I have my ways," Edward answered, deciding not to react to the hated nickname. He gestured up towards the stairs. "Shall we?"

Ellen's pout instantly vanished. "Yeah! Let's go!" She began to go up the steps of the staircase, two at a time. "Come on Old Man!"

Edward shook his head. Shopping with a teenaged girl. What would his former colleagues have to say if they saw him now? Still, he decided as he followed her up. This could actually be amusing. What was the worst that could happen?

"I don't see why you brought me here Brown. This is a waste of my time."

Stephanie rolled her eyes as she looked at the hats on display. "Oh come on half-pint. Where's your Christmas Spirit?"

Beside here, Damian huffed. "Tt. I should be back at the manor training, not wasting my time with you buying trinkets."

"Blame your Dad Damian," Stephanie said. "It was either you come with me here or you go to his Holiday party at Wayne Corp. You needed to get out of that house before you and Tim killed each other."

"You mean before I put Drake in his place," Damian corrected. He was about to say something more when he roughly grabbed onto Stephanie's hand. "Brown! Look!"

Stephanie put the hat back and turned around, at the ready. "What is it?" she asked. "A robbery? A rogue?"

Damian gestured to the outside of a stationary shop down a few feet from them. "There! That man who just came out!"

Stephanie looked at what Damian was pointing at. At first glance, it seemed like a an average man and his daughter out on a Christmas shopping trip. She was about to joke about Damian being paranoid when the man came closer and her nerves heightened. Even in casual get up, she knew that face anywhere. "Edward Nigma."

"Riddler," Damian growled. "What's he doing here?"

Stephanie tried to go back to shopping, less Nigma see her and recognize her. She wasn't sure how much of his memory loss was legit, but that would be an awkward meeting either way. An awkward meeting she did not want. "Shopping," she said. "Just like us. Do you think Alfred would like a brown or black hat?"

"Why is he trying to disguise himself? You don't find that suspicious?" Damian asked.

"Damian," Stephanie said, as measured as she could. "He's reformed. He's been reformed for over a year." She should be happy about that. It meant one less costumed baddie on the street. Then she thought of her childhood, of her father and she felt bitter. "He probably doesn't want to get hassled by people."

"And who's the girl?"

Stephanie looked again when she was sure that she was out of Nigma's line of sight. When she recognized Nigma, she'd forgotten about the girl. Now that she took a second look, she could see the resemblance between the two and she almost dropped her bag. "No way. I think that's his kid!"

Damian looked disgusted. "The Riddler has a spawn!?" He looked up at her. "You said you knew him when you were a whelp. You never saw her before?"

Stephanie shook her head. Now she remembered. There had been a news story a few months back about some girl who stopped an armed robbery at a deli and claimed she was the Riddler's daughter. Not even Bruce was sure that was true. "Wait until I tell Tim and Cass about this."

As the two walked out of sight, Damian moved to follow them. "Hey!" Stephanie yelped. "Where are you going?"

Damian looked back at her as if he thought she was an idiot. "I'm following them, obviously."

"Damian," Stephanie protested. "They aren't even doing anything!"

"Not yet," Damian said. "And besides, trailing Riddler will be more entertaining than shopping with you!" And with that, Damian walked off after them. Stephanie looked up Heavenwards and sighed. This was the last time she volunteered to Damian-sit.