He considered himself a humble man, never one to indulge in satisfaction at one's work. Staring at his fleeing victims, he had to say he had done a good job for the night; one mob family put out of business forever was quite an accomplishment.
Aside from the explosive projectile that had been fired at him, everything had gone according to plan. He would have to inspect his suit for damages once he arrived at a safe location, but he did not expect to find anything outside of cosmetic ruin. He had been right to fortify his design when building it.
Lowering his ice gun, he softened his hardened features. He was quite aware of how a stern, if not angered, look could frighten the more cowardly of foes. A man he greatly respected used the same technique to fascinating success. It wasn't as reported on as his first appearance, but the smaller crimes that had left local police officers scratching their heads were dizzying in number.
A faint sound reached his ears then, alerting him to something not quite right. His first reaction was defensive in nature, raising his weapon and turning to face the sound's source. He was surprised when a whirling projectile struck his hand, knocking his ice gun from his grasp and sending it clattering to the ground. He felt no pain from the blow due to the fortifications to his gloved hand, but he did feel a slight pressure.
No matter; there was still no threat to him that he could not deal with. His suit was fully equipped to handle foes without his choice of weapon. Lowering his hand, he completed his turn to face his new attacker.
It was one thing to hear about the man; it was quite another to actually see him. Although he felt nothing, for one single moment he felt his heart rate accelerate. There, standing in all of his dark glory, was the Bat-Man. Even in the red-tinted lens of his glasses, the man appeared completely black. The foreboding aura, hardened stare, and shrouding cape served to create an intimidating appearance. But where simpler, cowardly men would cry in fear and display all the behavioral reactions of alarm, his initial reaction was of admiration, or would have been. He was not afraid; in fact, he believed he was standing on equal ground with a colleague.
"I have always desired to stand in your presence," he called out to the dark specter. He tried to use a gregarious tone, but years of disuse had rendered his social talents insufficient. "It is an honor to meet you, Bat-Man."
The Bat-Man held his stare, keeping to himself. It was an expected answer, so he could wait as long as it took.
"Who are you?" the man's voice eventually demanded, his tone gravelly to the ear.
"Forgive my manners; I should have realized you required an introduction," he apologized. "I am Victor Fries, a pursuer of justice much like yourself."
Fries felt at that moment the Bat-Man directed his attention elsewhere, though it was hard to tell. Those blank, white eyes held their secrets well. "You consider justice freezing people alive?"
"No, that is not justice. It is punishment for all those that commit foul deeds, the criminals that fester within this city like so much decay on a carcass."
The dark being's face hardened further. "Not everyone you've attacked tonight is a criminal. Innocent people were harmed."
"An unfortunate and unintended result, yet necessary. The cowardly men wished to use these good people as shields so they would not be harmed. They must be shown that nothing and no one can prevent justice from falling upon them."
"I disagree."
The way he had said it, with such finality, made Fries feel as if he were speaking to the ultimate authority, the man that held this city in his blackened hands. That did not sit well with him. He was fighting against all those who claimed this city as their own possession. "Then we shall agree to disagree," he proposed. There were other, much more important things he wished to discuss with this man than differing philosophies. "I only ask that we come to a mutual understanding that, while different, our methods are working."
"Working," the Bat-Man repeated. There was no question, no demand for clarification, yet Fries felt as if that was exactly what this man wanted.
"I have lived many years in isolation, Bat-Man. This city and all its inhabitants were slowly, but surely sinking into decadence that I felt was impossible to stop. But then you appeared, began fighting against the rising tide of corruption and evil. Things changed. The shockwave of your arrival reached even I, and I felt that something special was happening. You are only one man, but that does not stop you for fighting for something greater than yourself. I do not see why others cannot follow your example."
"So this is why you attacked Garfield Lynns. This is why you're here at Moxon's headquarters."
"Garfield Lynns was a spontaneous occurrence. He came to me for judgment. I came to Moxon to administer his."
"Spontaneous. You just conveniently had a combat suit and weapon ready for the moment a man stumbled upon you. Forgive me for being skeptical."
Fries nodded his head in understanding. "I can see your logic, but it is the truth. I did not originally design this suit for combat, but for survival."
This time, there was a question. "Survival?"
"Yes, I have a condition that has left me unable to live in above-freezing temperatures. This suit is a mobile refrigeration unit, for lack of a better description. It wasn't until your exploits had reached my ear that I upgraded its defensive capabilities."
"And your gun? How would you explain that?"
"I only created it for defensive measures should I be discovered and attacked. My intent was never to use it on people."
"Could have fooled me."
"I am not the only one with weapons here, Bat-Man." By now, Fries was growing tired of this man's skepticism. Had he not explained himself enough?
"My equipment isn't designed for killing, Fries," the Bat-Man replied, just as stony as Fries. "I subdue and restrain, not kill. That is one thing I will not budge on."
"Admirable, but ultimately misguided."
"It is not up to one man to decide the fate of others. There are court systems and proper channels for these men."
"Ah yes, the courts," Fries all but spat out. "Those only work in theory. Can you deny that men like Moxon have skirted this institution, taking advantage of the corruption that festers within it? If this justice system really worked, there would be no need for men like you and myself."
And yet, he was not done with his rant. "You know this better than anyone else. There are very few good people here that will stand up to injustice and tyranny. Most are comfortable enough to allow evil men to do as they please. Everyday, more and more people join these cyclical mechanizations, further prolonging this city's suffering. Future generations are being sold out for the comforts of today."
"There are organizations designed to confront that problem," the Bat-Man countered. "Charities like the Children's Hospital and the Wayne Foundation have made it their mission to stop that."
"And yet they continue to fail. I am very aware of their works, but neither of them can match the efforts of the Nora Fries Foundation, not in awareness nor success."
"Nora Fries..."
"Yes, my late wife. She was a loving woman who cared deeply for her fellow man. Before the circumstances that altered me, I founded the foundation with the intent of continuing her work. I've had to stand aside from active involvement, but I am always up-to-date with its activities."
The Bat-Man fell silent for several moments. "What happened to you? Why are you so cynical about this city?"
Fries closed his eyes, a flood of memories assaulting his mind. "An accident. I once worked for Wayne Enterprises and was cast aside. I was the head of their cryogenics program, the reason why the company excelled in the area. And after all the research and effort I gave them, they turned their back on me when I needed it most. An accident occurred in the lab and I was locked inside of it, left for dead." He opened his eyes and stared at the Bat-Man. "But that is a story for another time."
Raising both of his arms, he held out his right hand towards his fallen weapon, his left to his abdominal section. On his suit was a large, dark circle, one that he touched with a finger and activated the magnetic program in his suit's hand. In moments, his gun flew off the ground and towards his hand. With practiced ease, he caught the weapon at its handle, just as he had designed it to.
"As I said before, it has been an honor, Bat-Man," Fries said as he aimed his weapon at the ground between them. "For now it is time that we went our separate ways. Farewell."
Squeezing the trigger of the ice gun, he fired a blast at the street, slowly crossing it in front of him. A wall of smooth ice grew between him and the Bat-Man, reaching from the buildings of one side of the street to the other, effectively separating the two men.
With the task accomplished, Fries turned to leave. Although their first meeting hadn't gone as he desired it, at least they had established common ground. Hopefully they would meet again, which was very likely due to their mutual interest. Fries was looking forward to it.
Everything was...fuzzy as she came to. That was the last time she had candy corn before going to bed. Every time she ate those little candy...whatever the heck they were made of, she had nightmares and didn't get a good night's sleep. In fact, what time was it? It felt too early for her to be up.
And what was up with her bed? It didn't feel as comfortable as it usually was. If anything, it felt harder and that was saying something—she preferred her mattresses to be firm as a rockc. Damn it, her body felt so weak too. She was having trouble raising her hand.
She cracked open her eyes, everything a blur before them, and she waited for them to adjust to the darkness in her room. It'd only take a moment and then she could look at the stupid alarm clock and see how early it really was. Any moment now. Why were things still dark?
That certainly wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. The longer she laid there, waiting for her vision to adjust, the more and more it seemed like it was darker. That could not be, especially since her apartment faced one of the more lit up areas of Gotham so it was never really dark inside of it. Had there been a city-wide power failure? Because that would be great. She wouldn't have to wear that sleeping mask tonight.
Oh, that must have been it. She was wearing that sleeping mask. That was why she still couldn't see anything. Vale would have a field day if she found this out. Now, to raise her hand up and...there wasn't anything on her face.
Her heart rate began to increase. Something was wrong, very wrong. She could feel it. It wasn't just her woman's intuition speaking here but her reporter's sense as well. Okay, don't panic Lois. Now was not the time to panic. Take a look around, see if you noticed anything that looked familiar. Maybe there was a window nearby or something.
She turned her head slowly to her right and while it wasn't as dark as above her, she frowned as all she could see was rock. There were small stalagmites...or where they stalactites? Tites held on to the ceiling so then these were mites. And that looked like a cliff right ahead. And it was way darker over there.
Okay, nothing over there. What about over here? She turned her head to the left and it was much brighter this way. A good thing and a bad thing to tell the truth. Good because there was some light she could use to see where she was. Bad because she could see what else was here with her.
It looked like some kind of...hospital? There were charts, large machines of some kind that she didn't care to know the name of and there were a few other unused...tables. Not beds, tables. Was that what she was laying on? She tilted her head to glance down. Yes, yes it was. And now that she was getting a better look at herself, she noticed that she wasn't wearing what she normally wore. Which, by the way, were clothes. What she was wearing now was a white, fuzzy robe, which meant...
...someone had undressed her and gotten a good look at her goods.
Okay, she could handle that. The person who had the gall to undress her in the first place wouldn't.
Wait, what she doing here in the first place? She was in some kind of hospital or medical place that happened to be in some sort of cave of some kind. This is the kind of stuff Vale would write on a good day. What was someone like her doing in a place like this?
Wait, what was that? It sounded high-pitched and above her and—those were bats up above her, weren't they? Now that her eyes had adjusted better, she could see the movement up there, slight and vague as it was. Oh she hoped to God none of those little bastards got the idea to go number two any time soon.
Suddenly, the smell of this place was explained.
Hold up, what was that? That didn't sound like a bat or bats. That didn't sound like those little rats with wings right above her at all. If she had to say, that sounded like a human voice. A human voice which meant that she wasn't alone here. A human voice which meant she could get some damn answers and make whoever had brought her here and undressed her life's as unpleasant as possible.
She was not going to be some kind of kidnapping victim. Not now, not in the future. Ever
Pressing a hand onto the table, she used it to hold her upper body up, her other hand going to the opening in the robe and grabbing the edges to keep them closed. Whoever had changed her had already seen enough of her body for one day; she wasn't going to let them get another peek.
The voice grew louder as the seconds ticked by, meaning it was coming closer. Faintly, Lois wondered if she should hide, plan a sneak-attack, or just start running and hope she didn't slip on any guano. That all changed when she heard a second, accented voice.
Oh bat guano, there were two of them. Two people she had to potentially silence for potentially copping feels on her. Well, a woman was going to have to do what a woman was going to have to do.
And then they appeared in her sights. Apparently she was much higher than she thought because the two men rose over the edge cave formation she was on. Due to their movements, they were climbing a set of stairs until they reached the top. The first person she zeroed in on was the man dressed in all black with horns. It only took her a second to realize that he was the Batman she had been writing about so much and that he was much bigger than she originally thought.
Then again, everyone looked bigger when you were just barely over 5'2".
The second man, however, made the whole scene surreal. Instead of wearing some bat costume like the Batman, he instead wore a suit that did nothing to hide his elderly features. She quickly noted his receding hairline and thin mustache, adding his weird accent to his...his...
Wait, she knew that man. Every reporter knew him or at least knew about him. You had to be an idiot not to, Vale notwithstanding. Her recognition of the elderly man jump-started her frightened brain, getting her into what she deemed her "reporter-mode."
"Alfred Pennyworth?" she asked out loud, much to the surprise of the two men. They had both frozen in their tracks and stared at her, almost as if they were in a daze.
Lois' mind was a frenzy of thoughts. What the heck was Pennyworth doing here? What was he doing around a vigilante of all people? Shouldn't he be at Wayne Manor doing butlery things? What would Bruce Wayne think if his butler was not within calling distance when he needed his shoes tied? Hell, the man seemed quite content with that arrangement, never being too far from his employer.
Wait, wait, wait, back up. Alfred Pennyworth was known for being in the vicinity Bruce Wayne at most times. He ran the Wayne household, chaffered, and probably wiped the man's ass with hundred dollar bills on a gold-plated toilet. Rarely were the two men not in the same building at the same time. And if Pennyworth was here...
Switching her sights from Pennyworth, she stared right at the Batman and spoke, "Bruce Wayne?"
Okay, even that sounded outlandish to her, now that she said that out loud. She must've gotten lost in her train of thought somewhere and—
Alfred then turned to Batman and said, "I believe we didn't make the sedative strong enough, Sir."
Oh dear God, she was right.
What was best described as an awkward silence fell upon the three. Awkward meaning Lois was freaking out about her discovery while the two men across from her found themselves at a loss for words. Every second that stretched on only made it worse until the point Lois just wanted to scream.
And then the Bat...Bruce Wayne spoke to his butler, "Alfred, I believe Ms. Lane has some questions she would like to ask me. If you would give us a moment." Lois had to marvel at the deep voice he said that in, completely unlike the cheerful tone associated with Bruce Wayne.
"Of course, Sir." Giving a bow, Alfred turned on his heels and headed down the staircase and disappeared soon after.
Which left Lois with a bat-clad billionaire. Oh joy.
Wayne returned his focus to the dark-haired woman, boring his blank eyes into her. It was quite unnerving. "You can speak now."
A part of the reporter raged against being given permission for anything; however, her inquisitive nature was in full force and craved answers. So she started out with the biggest question she could come up with. Lifting her hand from the table, she gestured to the cave and asked, "What is all of this?"
"Medical equipment," Wayne answered gruffly.
Lois glared. "That's not what I meant. Why are you in a cave, dressed as a bat, with God knows what in here? And why did you bring me here with you?"
Wayne chose to ignore the first question in favor of the second one. "You needed medical attention. There wasn't much of a choice."
She raised an eyebrow at that. "Then why not drop me off at a hospital? They have the same equipment you have and trained technicians to use it."
"What hospital do you know has a hydrothermal tank capable of dissolving ice? Need I remind you that your leg was frozen and without immediate attention, you would have lost said leg?"
The memory hit Lois with the force of a baseball bat. Her lying on the ground, leg encased in ice, barely able to move. And then seeing the Batman standing over her, staring down at her like she was beneath him. Yeah, that wasn't a very pleasant memory.
Letting out a sigh, she answered, "I suppose I should thank you for helping me. It was fortunate you knew how to get rid of the ice."
The corner of his mouth twitched up, the man unable to hide a split-second's worth of amusement. "Actually, I didn't know. You're the first person I tried that on; fortunately it worked."
Lois' mouth dropped at that. "You mean I was a guinea pig? You used me as a freaking guinea pig?! You...you..." she trailed off, noticing a full blown smirk on Wayne's face...well, just the part showing since he had that mask on. That quickly drew the dark-haired woman's ire. "Would you take off that freaking mask already?! If I'm gonna scream at you, I want to at least see that stupid mug of yours!"
Wayne just kept that infuriating smirk on his face, damn him. But then he gave into her request, raising his gauntleted hands and pulling off his mask. If there was any doubt that Bruce Wayne was Batman, it vanished the instant the billionaire's face appeared, his dark hair shellacked to his forehead. In that instant, the outrage the reporter felt died a quick, merciful death.
In a matter of seconds, Lois analyzed this man. Everything she knew and assumed about him fell by the wayside. If his deeper voice had been any indication Bruce Wayne was not who he seemed to be, there were a multitude of other things that piled onto that conclusion. The confident pose the man wore with his batsuit far exceeding the haughty stance of the billionaire. The predatory gaze was replaced with a stoic, if not serious scowl that seemed permanently etched onto his face. If the playboy was considered an idiot, the intelligence that radiated from his eyes spoke of someone that knew far more than he should. It was like she was staring at a different person than the one she was familiar with.
Looking him over, making note of the dark armor and cape, she spoke softly, "Why are you dressed like this? Why a bat?"
The amusement on the man's face disappeared, taking on a stoic look—it was a stark contrast to the usual photos of the billionaire. "Actually, the bat was your creation."
"What? Mine? But you're the one dressing like one!"
Walking towards her, he moved around the table and headed to a bench that was covered with papers and folders. "I suppose that's the effect," he answered, sounding as if he were talking about the weather rather than about dressing as a flying rodent. "I was trying to be vague, let the criminals come up with the most terrifying demon they could imagine. It was you that coined the 'Bat-Man' name."
"Actually, it's Batman now, all one word, no hyphen," Lois automatically corrected. In response, Bruce turned his head to look at her, raising an eyebrow. "It looks better and saves ink, alright?"
"Whatever you say."
Lois slid her legs over the table until they hung over the edge, dangling above the floor. Both of her hands moved to rest on the table's edge, ready to push her off at a moment's notice. "You never answered me though; why are you doing this?"
Bruce remained silent at this, fiddling with whatever was on the bench that held his attention. Finally, he answered, "You're a reporter, you know just how far this city has sunk. People are living in fear, looking over their shoulders for predators of the worst kind."
"I know," Lois acknowledged, prodding him to continue.
"They don't deserve to live this way—no one does. Yet, no one has taken a stand; no one has said 'enough's enough.' That's what I'm doing. I'm doing this so that a father can walk home from work and not find his family massacred in his living room; so that a mother doesn't have to watch as her children are twisted into monsters." He paused for a moment, as if he were considering his next words carefully. "So that children don't have to watch their parents walk out the front door and wonder if that will be the last time they see them."
That was all well and good and all, but Lois half-believed it. She hadn't interviewed all those politicians for nothing now—she knew an omission of the truth when she heard one. It was time to dig a little deeper. "That's pretty noble of you and all, but why not join the police force then? Or donate a couple of your billions to them?"
The man snorted before fully turning around to face her. "Don't play dumb, Lane, it doesn't suit you. You were the one that grilled Gordon at that press conference and you didn't do it because you felt like it. The police department is full of so many corrupt men, there's no way to tell where it begins and where it ends.
"The police can't do anything, not right now. The people of Gotham don't even respect them, even the good ones. A dramatic example has to be made, to get everyone's attention."
"And you think dressing up like this," at this she waved a hand towards his wardrobe, "is dramatic enough? Yeah, what a great idea. I'm surprised more people haven't joined you."
Wayne stared at her before walking back towards the staircase. At this Lois pushed herself off the table and onto her feet. She nearly lost her balance as one of her legs gave out, the reporter grabbing the table behind her instantly. Ugh, she forgot she had a leg that had been out of commission for awhile. Walking was going to be challenging, balancing on high-heels everyday notwithstanding. Carefully, she held herself up with the table until she was sure she could stand on both legs. When she felt confident, she stood to her full height and found herself lighting up with joy when she didn't fall over. Looking over to Bruce Wayne, she saw he had completely disappeared from view.
A scowl appeared on Lois' face. That jackass; what was he doing leaving a poor, helpless woman behind without at least offering a helping hand? His parents should have taught him better. Huffing irritably, she began walking to the staircase, finding herself doing so awkwardly. One of her legs was able to make quick, normal steps while the other required larger, roundabout steps. Is this what happened when you got your legs frozen? A freaking limp? She was gonna have to have some words with that careless spaceman someday very soon.
Doing the best she could, she limped her way down the set of stairs, finding herself on a metal platform. The most prominent thing here was a massive computer, one that she was currently wondering if it had Solitaire. An odd thought considered it was in a cave. And speaking of which, Bruce was walking to it, heading for a chair stationed right in front of the ginormous screen. Hobbling after him, she crossed her arms over chest, the chilliness of the cave somehow making itself known. Would it kill this guy to get a heater installed?
Just as she reached the back of the chair, Bruce began speaking, his fingers pressing keys on a keyboard. At this point, the reporter noticed three curved blades jutting out of the man's forearm. Not something you wanted to get personally acquainted with. A quick glance to the other arm showed the same blades. And then there was his chest, each side covered with an all-black armored plate. Oddly enough, she felt as if something was missing from there. "Someone already has," he said, interrupting her musing as he responded to her earlier comment, one that Lois momentarily forgot before it came back to her.
At this, the picture of a man appeared on the computer monitor. The guy was rather somber-looking with a receding hairline and glasses. "This is Victor Fries, a former Wayne Enterprises employee."
"Okay, what about him? Is he dressing up like a bat too?"
"No," Wayne replied. "He's the man that froze your leg."
Lois stiffened at that revelation. This was the spaceman? They didn't look anything alike! "You serious? But he looks different!"
"A workplace accident," Wayne informed her. "According to him, he has to live at subzero temperatures. The suit he's wearing creates that sort of environment for him. Recently he has weaponized it and the result you know already."
"Too well. At least on the bright side this will make for a great article. Billionaire Secretly Moonlights as Vigilante; Ice Man Brings Early Winter."
"You aren't seriously considering writing about all this," Bruce remarked cautiously, tilting his head towards her.
Lois looked at him incredulously. "Of course I am! The public deserves to know what's going on! They need to know about the people taking the law into their own hands."
"Okay, so you get this story published; what then?"
She blinked her eyes owlishly at that. "What do you mean 'what then'?"
"I mean," at this, Bruce leaned back into his chair, turning in it to fully face the reporter, his elbows perched on the chair's arms as his fingers entwined themselves in front of him, "what will happen after you publish all this? People will wonder how you found out about all this, some with ill intentions. They're going to try to get even more information out of you, like where Fries is hiding. They'll even torture you to get the information out."
Lois paled at that. "You can't be serious."
"Of course I am. But that would be a blessing compared what they'd do to me and Alfred, not to mention all the employees at Wayne Enterprises. Everyone associated with me will be hunted down and harmed, even killed as retribution. All of this because you wanted to publish a story."
That forced a scowl onto the reporter's face. "Oh, don't you tell me this is all for the greater good."
"I won't bother telling you that," Wayne replied simply. "But I will promise you this: I will destroy your career if it does come out. I will deny everything and sue you and the Gotham Star for libel. By the time I get done with you, that cushy job you have lined up in Metropolis will be gone and you won't be able to report on local dog shows, much less international correspondence."
Rage filled Lois, causing her body to shake. "You're blackmailing me!"
The man shrugged his shoulder at that remark. "If that's how you wish to see it. All I ask is that you considered sitting on the story for now."
"For now," she snorted with derision. "You mean forever."
"Perhaps, but if you really want to get petty, I can point out how I could have left you in the street helpless instead of bringing you back here, at the obvious expense of my identity." He paused to let that set in. "As I said, think about it."
Lois blew air through her lips, eyes looking up towards the...ceiling for lack of a better word. So what were her choices? Publish the story and become the focus of some very bad people with the possibility of torture involved and have a lawsuit on top of that from one of the wealthiest men in the world. Or...or sit on the greatest story to ever fallen in her lap and not get the Pulitzer that would certainly have her name on it if she wrote it right. Decisions, decisions...
"Fine," she sighed after what felt like an eon of thinking. "I do owe you for the save after all, but don't think you can keep bringing that up whenever you want me to be quiet, you understand? This is a one time deal."
"So long as we have an understanding," Bruce Wayne replied and damn it, he had that smirk on his face. She hated that smirk. "Now it's time to get you home. You don't want to miss work, right?"
"And how are we going to do that?" she retorted snidely.