Author's Note: Hey y'all! I decided to put the note up top this time so that you don't have to deal with my rambling after what's (hopefully) a nice dramatic chapter end.
Thank y'all so much for the reviews and well-wishes for the exam! It's over now, so all that's left is for me to wait on tenterhooks for the next few weeks waiting to find out how I did.
In other news, the travel bug has bit me again; next post will be delayed as well because I'll be in the middle of a lovely cruise. Gotta admit, I'm a little weirded out by the idea—my current idea of international luxury is along the lines of "Drinkable tap water!" and "Free laundry machine!"—but it should be fun. Posting will resume two weeks from today at the very latest, but I'll try and see if I can get it out a bit earlier than that.
Alright, think that's it. Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 11: Cold
"Andi, I've told you everything I know."
"Come on, there has to be something else. Let's try small things. Itineraries. How did the Order—"
"Have you ever considered working for the CIA? They'd protect you, and you'd do a great job as an interrogator."
"Oh ha ha." Andi scanned the list of questions and notes she'd compiled, trying to find anything she was missing. JP paced the formal parlor where she'd set up camp, restless as a caged wolf.
"Look," he said. "I'm grateful for the help, but why are you even here?"
Andi looked at him over the top of her notebook. "Because Deadshot's not going to stop. We both know that—he's been hired to kill Batman, and that means he's going to do it. His employer's his god."
"Yeah, he's been hired to kill Batman. You can walk away from this any time."
"He's also working for Harley and Ivy. The next person on the list is going to be me. If I'm lucky, they'll ask for a kill, but I doubt it. More likely he'd cart me off to Harley to… well, let's just say it wouldn't be quick and clean."
JP paused his pacing and grabbed an apple out of the silver dish in the center of the table, then sprawled across one of the delicately carved chairs across the table Andi was sitting at. He looked as out of place in the Manor's old world style decor as Andi felt, although she was pretty sure it was deliberate in his case.
"What about you?" she asked. "Why not go after Deadshot on your own?"
JP cut off a piece of apple with his pocket knife, but paused before he put it in his mouth. "Now that I'm rogue, the Order leaked my extracurriculars to the FBI. I'm a fugitive too."
"Oh. JP, I…" What was she supposed to say? 'Sorry they've found out you're a terrorist, but you kind of deserve it?'
The casual shrug looked only a little forced. "I don't know how much they've figured out; they're keeping it offline. Best to lay low until I can figure out—"
"Surprised you're still here."
Andi's head whipped toward the door. Bruce was standing there, leaning heavily on his crutches. She wasn't sure whether 'you' meant her or JP.
She wasn't angry, she reminded herself; she was very, very cold.
"People keep saying that," she said.
Bruce glanced at her, then turned to JP. His mouth gave a little quirk that could mean anything. "Valley."
"Wayne."
JP now had his feet up on the table, and his chair tipped back on two legs, Andi noticed. She'd barely noticed JP's faint Southern drawl before, but now it colored that one word, contrasting with Bruce's cultured, smooth accent. He tossed the apple core onto the table and wiped the juicy knife blade on his jeans.
Perfect. Two men she had every right to hate, and they were so busy posturing that Andi had to be peacemaker instead.
"Sit," she said, pointing to the chair closest to the door. Bruce made his way toward it, somehow maintaining utter dignity even hopping on one foot. Andi slid another chair his way, and he swung his bad leg onto that as he sat down. "JP, whatever you think of him, try to remember it's Alfred who cleans up after you."
JP raised his eyebrows, but he did sit up long enough to put the apple core on a napkin instead of the polished wood. His feet went back on the table a second later, but his boots were clean, and Andi decided not to push.
There was silence while Bruce and JP eyed each other, deep degrees of suspicion written across each one's face. Andi realized that neither wanted to be the first to speak, so she broke the silence herself.
"JP and I are still here because we have a common goal. None of us like each other much, but we all want Deadshot gone. If the three of us try separately, he'll find a way to use us against each other. We need to coordinate."
"You and I maybe, Andi." JP gave Bruce's bandaged leg a disdainful look. "Not sure what this guy's good for except for getting shot."
"Says the man borrowing my clothes and hiding in my house?" Bruce didn't even bother using sarcasm; his voice was direct and brisk, as if he wanted to double check an earnings report.
Andi folded her arms and sent a cold look at first one, then the other. "If we're going to argue about importance, I'm the one who should go," she said. "Wayne has necessary resources, especially now that the police are on the Order's trail, not to mention that he knows Gotham to its core. You're a physical force, JP, which we badly need, and you know Deadshot better than anyone else. I'm the most expendable—are either of you going to tell me to leave or can we work together?"
She glared at both of them, trying to ignore the little voice that said they might kick her out. Bruce had said no special treatment, after all, and JP had been planning to drop her off with Gordon, then strike out on his own.
So Andi was almost surprised when both of them dropped their eyes. Not only were they not arguing, they were waiting for her to take the lead.
"Alright," she said, trying to stay calm. "I don't know tracking fugitives as well as you two; I'm out of practice, and I'm used to doing it from behind the police lines when I do. But until Deadshot resurfaces, I think the best we can do is gather information. As much as we can, as fast as we can. JP, I know you hate all the talking, but I'm going to keep grilling you for intel on him and the Order—now that we know his employers, we'll see if we can figure out what Deadshot's going to do next. Wayne, I'm assuming you have contacts in Gotham. We need to know what they've got."
"I'll go out tomorrow night."
"Absolutely not."
"They'll only talk to me."
"I'll take care of it." Andi moved to a new topic of conversation before Bruce could protest or ask what she meant. "Even with that information, I don't think we'll stop Deadshot from killing again. We can try to figure things out based on what the two of you can drum up about him, but the thing is, his actions and targets revolve around—"
"His employer," JP said.
"Right. If we want to stop him, we need to figure out what Harley and Ivy are up to. It's a longshot, but…" Andi looked Bruce in the eye. "I'd like to talk to Lucius Fox."
JP looked up from the second apple he was cutting. "Fox is in on this too? Wayne's CEO?"
Bruce ignored him. "For what?"
"He has access to pretty much every database, bank transaction, and CCTV in the States, doesn't he? Better than even what JP managed when he was with the Order?"
"Yes…" Bruce said slowly.
"We can coordinate that into a search for Harley and Ivy. If they so much as poke their noses outside, we'll know."
"I've looked for them for two years, Taylor. Using those resources, and more. I haven't found anything."
Taylor. Andi tried not to show any hurt. She'd been calling him 'Wayne' ever since he walked in, after all.
"Yes, but it hasn't exactly been your priority, has it? I'm not blaming you, but they've been out of Gotham and you've been busy shutting down the last of the Black Mask's drug cartel and finding that serial killer—the Riddler person. Now that Harley and Ivy are the main threat, we can put more power towards searching them out."
Andi paused, then decided there was no point in being modest. "Besides, you didn't have me before. This is the one area where I am better than either of you—I know these women very well, or at least I did. I might be able to pick up patterns or information a stranger or a computer would dismiss."
That was all she had to say, but they both looked at her as if expecting her to do something else. After a second, Andi realized she should probably find something encouraging, or at least final-sounding to close things off, but for the life of her, she couldn't come up with anything; she hadn't exactly planned to head this impromptu meeting. After a minute, Bruce got his crutches under his arm and heaved himself up. As he limped out without a word, Andi grabbed her pad of paper and turned back to JP.
"So. I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more about where and how Deadshot buys his weapons. Are they all custom-made, or does he…"
JP groaned.
"Mr. Fox?"
"Miss Taylor." He held out a hand formally enough, but his voice was warm, as if they were old friends. Andi took it and returned his easy smile. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, tea, water?"
"Coffee would be wonderful." Andi took a seat at the table he motioned her to and pulled a couple of files out of the briefcase Bruce had loaned her.
She'd been worried, at first, about this meeting; Lucius Fox was the only member of Bruce's team she'd never really worked with. In fact, the only time they'd met, he'd helped to kidnap her and she'd attacked him—not the best introduction. But, as he kept up a light chat about different coffee blends and his own preference for tea and the birth of his newest grandchild, she somehow found herself relaxing. There was something about the man that just made her feel safe.
"So this is where the magic happens?" Andi asked as he finally joined her at the table. She took a small sip of coffee before motioning to the room around them. Armory was probably the best word for it; Andi saw at least two other Tumblers, an impressive array of different guns and ammo for a man who never used them, several prototypes of the suit, and other things she couldn't even put a name to. "All the R&D for Bat—Bruce Wayne's… interests?"
"He's got some diverse tastes," Mr. Fox murmured.
"Then I hope you can help me with a new one."
"Yes, he mentioned you might come to see me."
"I'm doing a, uh, a social experiment," Andi said. "There are two people I'm very interested in finding. We've tried looking with your standard surveillance technology—nothing. They're good at hiding."
She paused, but Fox just pressed his fingers together and leaned forward, waiting for her to go on.
"The thing is, I know a lot about these women. Things that a computer wouldn't pick up. From their ideals and habits, all the way down to what time they get up in the morning and what they put in their coffee."
"Useful knowledge."
"I… don't know if you're being sarcastic or not." Andi smiled at Fox. "But it is. From what I understand, you're the person to go to for technology. I was hoping that we could mesh my knowledge with your search programs, and maybe improve on both. Your computers would learn to look for patterns that they haven't searched for before, and they could process a lot more data than I ever would on my own."
Fox nodded, thinking about it. "I should be able to help you. But you realize that this won't be quick? I'll need to work with you for hours on getting your information, and gathering that amount of data could take weeks. Months, even."
"I understand," Andi said. "Before we begin, I have one other request, though."
"Oh?"
"Bruce's suit. Could it be sized to fit someone else?
"No."
"Absolutely not."
Andi sat back in her chair and gave a tightlipped smile to Bruce and JP. "Well. I'm glad you two can agree on something."
"This isn't funny, Taylor." Andi didn't know how Bruce could look so threatening. He was still bruised and bandaged, but even half-reclining in the cushy armchair Alfred had brought in for him, he looked fearsome. "You want to make Azrael into the Batman."
"Fox already agreed to alter the suit, and JP's got nearly the same physical build as you. So why not?"
"Because I'm Batman. Azrael is dangerous and he doesn't follow the same code. I can't let him take over the mask as if we were changing shifts or something."
"Yeah, I'm still right here, you two," JP said. He grimaced at the empty bowl and looked around the parlor. "Have we got any more apples?"
Andi ignored him and kept her eyes fixed on Bruce.
"I wouldn't ask unless I had to."
"These contacts depend on me to keep them safe. I can't tell someone else their identities and endanger them."
Like you couldn't endanger me? Andi stopped the words just shy of leaving her mouth, clenched her teeth tight around them. It didn't matter, she reminded herself. She was past that. And even if she wasn't, making cutting comments wouldn't persuade Bruce.
She still had to look away to stop herself from glaring at him.
"We'll find another way," Bruce said. "Go to Gordon and ask what his informants are saying—"
"There's a reason you have your own sources instead of GCPD's!" Andi snapped, now staring daggers at the chandelier above them. "Yours are better."
"And I'm not going to risk—"
"They're already at risk." Andi said. She finally looked back at Bruce, met his stare dead on. "You offer them protection in exchange for information, right? That's got to make people mad. And with the rumor going around that you've been shot… the longer you stay gone, the greater the chance someone takes a chance to get revenge on your associates.
"Getting the Batman out in public, letting him be seen, will be the best protection they can get. Not to mention, word will get back to Deadshot that you're alive and on the streets; right now, he probably thinks you're either dead or horribly injured. If he sees you, whatever else he's planning to do will have to stop because he'll know he missed his target."
"So you plan to use me as bait?" JP asked.
Fantastic, Andi thought. Placate one of them and the other gets into a snit.
"Doesn't feel so great, does it?" she asked. His mouth flattened and she hurried to add, "But no. The first few times you go out won't be enough to make him come; he'll need to watch, figure out a new strategy to draw in the Batman. By the time he's ready to attack, I'm hoping Wayne will have recovered. This isn't a permanent fix I'm going for. Wayne, you're not giving up the Batman. This is just something that'll get us through long enough until both of you have found your feet."
She paused, waiting for them to contradict her. Neither of them did, but they didn't look an inch closer to giving in, either. "It's the best option we have. Any one of us could destroy the others if we wanted to; we've got no choice except to rely on each other. So why not take that trust a step farther and make it useful instead of a burden?"
JP looked like he had when he'd tried to decide if she was lying about Deadshot. "You really trust Wayne, Andi? After… everything?"
Andi glanced between them both—Bruce's stare suddenly felt sharp enough to cut. She hadn't told JP anything about losing Bruce again, except to coldly inform him when asked that she was 'absolutely fine, and I don't need you to wreck my personal life again.'
Come to think of it, that would have told him everything he needed to know.
"It depends on what you mean," Andi said. "Do I trust him to have my back? Give a damn about me? No. And he won't do it for you either. But he will help us with this—it's in Gotham's best interests if Deadshot's taken care of."
JP went quiet, considering for so long Andi thought he'd say no, but at long last he nodded.
"Alright. You win."
Andi allowed her frozen expression to thaw; not a smile, but not as hostile as it had been earlier. He answered with his usual, heart melting grin, although she knew it was an effort. She took a steadying breath and then turned to Bruce.
"No," he said before she could open her mouth.
"Oh, right. Now that the mighty Bruce Wayne has said 'no,' I'm going to give up before I've had my say."
"You've said plenty," Bruce said. "I'm saying no."
"What are you going to do instead?" Andi demanded. "Sit here and watch your city burn? You may be willing to sacrifice Gotham, but I'm not."
She'd crossed a line. In a split second, his eyes went from sharp to furious. Andi stood to face him and summoned up all of her own righteous anger. The bitterness she'd buried under professionalism finally broke free.
"You chose a city over me. Fine. But don't you dare decide something's more important than Gotham now. Not the Batman, not your pride, and not you feeling guilt free."
There was a deathly silence. Andi felt quite sure that, if she had been the slightest bit of a physical threat, Batman would have attacked her, regardless of his injuries.
"Andi, Wayne," JP said quietly. "Walk away."
Andi didn't move, didn't even blink.
"Come on—"
"He can wear the suit," Bruce said. His voice had gone rough, like the Batman's. Their eyes were still locked. "But you're going with him. If he messes up, if he betrays us or kills, I want you to see it. And I want you to know that it's on you."
"No way," JP said. "You can't put her in danger because—"
"Fine," Andi said. "No, JP, I mean it. I'll do it."
She should have left it at that, but Andi couldn't resist one last, parting shot. Her voice was so cold that she was surprised her breath didn't condense in front of her. "You're right. Whatever JP does, it's on my conscience. But me? If I get caught in the crossfire, or Deadshot takes me out? That's on yours. Guess it's a good thing I'm not important enough for you to care."