Chapter 32: Batman Eternal

ARKHAM ASYLUM

Aaliyah Ramsay hid beneath a desk in an old office in one of the asylum's cell blocks.

Why?

BOOOOOMMMMMM!

That's why.

Once the helicopter in which they arrived had made landfall on Arkham Island, she and Cassandra Wayne, the evil bitch that sold her out, had been separated. Cassandra had been taken elsewhere while Aaliyah had been taken to this office. And there she'd been for hours.

At least this office had a bathroom.

BOOOOOMMMMMM!

Dust and plaster fell. Aaliyah's heart didn't feel like beating for a second, there.

This had been going on for a few minutes, and it had only gotten scarier and scarier.

This most recent one was near. Too near. She heard muffled screaming from the other side of the door. Automatic gunfire. Clanging metal. And then…

Nothing.

The door to the office opened. The sound of the turning knob held some chunks, as Ra's al Ghul's goons had locked it.

Not that it mattered to the person who had just arrived.

She heard footsteps, heavy and methodical, on the carpet.

Finally, a voice:

"I know you're behind the desk, Aaliyah. Please come out and talk."

It was a man's voice, and kind. Maybe that last part was what got her to her feet.

And what she saw as she rose, was:

"Holy shit, you're Superman."

Holy shit, it was Superman. Cape, tights and big red S, embodying Truth, Justice, and the unshitty parts of The American Way. He was holding a large green duffel bag so packed with something that she didn't think she could lift it. And the man himself didn't look much older than she did, the last time she checked a mirror.

Aaliyah had to remind herself that Conner Kent, according to everyone at Dick Grayson's wake, had a holographic thingy on the back of his head that made him look like he was in his thirties. Turned off, he would forever look like he was eighteen.

There was something else memorable about Conner Kent that Aaliyah felt compelled to bring up.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

Superman smiled. "Yeah, everyone out there thought so, too."

He conjured a smile from the ether, making him look more boyish than he already did. He looked like Jon Lane-Kent, only with a few- DEAR GOD, AALIYAH, WHY ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT BOYS RIGHT NOW?

"Think about how hard my job can be," Superman said. "Bullets bounce right off me, yet people feel compelled to try and pump me full of lead anyhow. Usually in groups, usually with automatic weapons. So when they empty clips into me, I have to use my Super Speed to grab each individual bullet so they don't wind up accidentally shooting themselves."

He shrugged, as though to ask "Whaddya gonna do?"

Aaliyah shrugged back, because she didn't want to be rude. There had to be an extra-roasty Hell for people who were rude to Superman.

"Anyway," Superman said as he held up the duffel bag, "I have a stop to make along the way, but I understand you might need someone to walk you out of here."

She just stared at him.

"But… But Cass…"

"Let's just say Cass is a lot smarter than anyone gives her credit for," Superman said. "And they'd have known that quite a bit earlier if they listened to all the nice things I said about her over the years. I know she has a lot to explain to you. And I know you don't trust her a whole lot right now. All I'm asking is that you trust me, and know that I won't let anything bad happen to you."

Her eyes fell to the big red S on his chest. That was all the convincing she needed.

"Okay," she said.

"Alright, then," said Superman before extending his hand toward the mangled door through which he had just entered. "Ladies first."

She left the office with Superman close behind her…

...and entered a completely packed cell block.

Scores of men in black, men who had been holding her prisoner until just a minute ago, were now in the cells, screaming, sticking their arms out from between the bars. The floor was littered with the shattered remains of assault weapons, as well as dust and pulverized masonry. The ceiling wasn't there anymore. And the locks to all the cells were glowing a bright orange.

Aaliyah did the math.

Superman had come in through the ceiling, took all their guns away, shoved them into the cells, and used his Heat Vision to melt the locks on those cells. It would take a lot of time and specialized equipment to get them out again.

And Aaliyah had to take some time from fearing for her own life to bask in how fucking awesome that was.

SORCIER DRIVE (THE MAINLAND)

The news broke while Mayor Alysia Yeoh was in the limo on the way to City Hall.

The news choppers circling the monorail making its unmanned test around the city spotted actual men in the unmanned monorail, and decided to drive the city nuts with unsubstantiated speculation.

In addition, citizens had been hearing booms so loud that they were audible across Gotham Bay at Arkham Island. Substandard video revealed the culprit behind the explosions to be…

...Superman.

Well, Alysia thought, at least he isn't dead like the internet said he was.

On this seemingly endless limousine ride from Schlesinger Station to City Hall, Alysia was accompanied by Police Commissioner Renee Montoya (who was on the phone) and her assistant Jennifer (who was watching the muted news footage on her own phone with great interest).

"What?" Renee asked the person with whom she was on the phone. "I mean… I mean I'll tell her, but… Are you sure..? Okay… Okay, thank you."

Renee hung up her phone, and looked at Alysia.

"Well?" Alysia asked.

"We got lab analysis back on the green mist that's coming out of the locomotive," Renee said, after which she fell uncharicteristically silent.

"Well?" Alysia asked a second time. "What is it?"

If Alysia didn't know any better, she would have sworn Police Commissioner Montoya was embarrassed.

"Madame Mayor… It's Kool-Aid," Renee said.

Alysia could feel the distaste and shock form on her own face.

"Kool-Aid?"

Renee nodded.

"The bad guys… stole the city's monorail… to dose the people… with Kool-Aid?"

Renee shrugged. "That's what they tell me."

As Alysia grappled internally with just what the hell she was going to say to that, Jennifer spoke up.

"Madame Mayor," she said, "you need to look at this."

Alysia looked at the television.

The news choppers following the monorail had picked up yet another vehicle flying behind the monorail and gaining ground.

It was small, about the size of a motorcycle. There were two people riding this vehicle, the one at the rear notable for her all white attire, her large and stylized helmet, and for the cape flowing behind her.

Even if Alysia didn't know who it was, the chyron at the bottom of the screen was nice enough to tell her.

MOTHER PANIC ARRIVES ON SCENE

"Ugh," Alysia said. "Cape Shit."

"Who's that she's riding with?" Renee asked.

MIAGANI ISLAND

"Why am I riding in front?" Tim asked.

"So I don't get my cape in your face," Mother Panic said in reply.

It was windy as hell on this glider above the monorail. The sunglasses he wore was the only way he could see, and his earpiece was the only way he could understand what Mother Panic was saying.

The glider was on autopilot, and Mother Panic had her oversized, hockey glove-style white gauntlets around his waist.

Hell of a thing, though. Her gauntlets moved up and down his front every now and again. If Tim didn't know any better, he would have sworn that Violet Paige was getting handsy.

But that couldn't be it.

"What's your superhero name?" Mother Panic asked.

"Don't have one," said Tim. "I'm not a superhero anymore."

"You are tonight," Mother Panic said. "You need a name."

"I dunno… 'Savior?'"

"Laaaaaaaame."

"You have any ideas?"

"How 'bout… 'Drake?'"

"Like the rapper?"

"Like the bird," Mother Panic said. "It fits with the bird theme. Drakes are birds. Drakes are also dragons, so, y'know, double cool."

"If I went out there with a superhero name that was the same as my last name," Tim said, "that would make me a fucking moron."

"Fine," Mother Panic said. "Savior it is. And this is our stop."

The glider was a few feet above the middle car of the monorail, and keeping pace.

"How do we get in?" Tim asked.

A moment of silence, before Mother Panic said "Fuck it, the city can send a bill to The Pike."

Mother Panic stood up from the glider, and jumped off.

She brought her huge gauntlets down on the gleaming white metal of the top of the monorail. The impact was so savage that she went through the roof, and landed on the floor inside. Even from this distance, Tim could see one of the Squires run toward her, only for Mother Panic to swat him away as though he were a cat toy.

Tim sighed, and followed suit, unleashing his collapsible metal bo staff in mid-air.

ARKHAM ASYLUM

There were two gargoyles in the long hallway leading to the administrative parking garage.

Bruce Wayne was perched on one of them.

He heard a series of footsteps coming from the entry. He squinted down, and saw that Ra's al Ghul was heading for his ride out, flanked on either side by two of his goons walking a step behind.

Bruce waited for them to pass beneath.

He descended on the goon on the right, planting a boot in his neck so hard that he was sent into unconsciousness instantly.

Bruce brought his elbow into the bridge of the nose of the goon on the left. Blood flew up the guy's mask, and into his eyes. Bruce reared back for another strike, and then stopped when he saw that the Assassin was melting to the floor on his own.

Then Bruce slowly turned his head to Ra's al Ghul, and they locked eyes.

"Detective," Ra's said, keeping all emotion off his face. "I haven't seen you in… decades, now. You look older than I do these days. Are you still The Detective? Or are you just… Dear Old Dad?"

"Yes," Bruce said. "I am. And you'll keep your goddamned hands off my daughter."

"Your daughter," Ra's said, "had created too many problems for me to be allowed to live. She's far too willful for her good or mine. All I have to do is wait to strike. Unlike me, she has to get old someday."

"I seem to remember you being more than happy to let me live whenever I interfered with your plans years ago."

"This is different," Ra's said.

"Because she's a woman and I'm not?"

Ra's rolled his eyes. "I must keep an eye on what is to be passed to my son. Your daughter is talented, but I will not tolerate this level of independence in an heir."

"Then what's the point?" Bruce asked. "If you don't want your child to outgrow you and do better than you did, then you had no business having one in the first place. All you want is an ego stroke, and if that's the best you think you can do, you were never any earthly good to anyone. You've spent hundreds of years in a state of total worthlessness."

The face of The Demon turned red. "That girl operated without your knowledge for the past week. She made a fool of you. A man as controlling as you are is telling me this meets your approval?"

Bruce nodded. "Yes. It does. And I hope it happens again. Tells me I did a good job."

Ra's al Ghul glowered. "It only occurs to me now… at this late date… to ask myself…"

His right hand vanished beneath his green cloak.

"...what my daughter ever saw in you."

His hand re-emerged from his cloak brandishing a scimitar. He brought it high above his head, and-

CRACK!

Ra's al Ghul's hand jerked. He howled in pain. And the scimitar was sent clattering down the hall.

He looked up…

...and saw Selina Wayne perched on the second gargoyle. Jeans on her legs, leather jacket on her back, and a bullwhip in her right hand.

As she rewound her whip, she nodded at Ra's.

"'Sup, fucko?"

Ra's looked down in a fury…

...right into an elbow from Bruce Wayne.

Cassandra was still in her cell when Superman and Aaliyah showed up at Inter-Patient Therapy.

Aaliyah, for her part, stayed by the door as Superman walked up to the plexiglass and dropped the duffel bag.

"You know," Superman said, "one of the first things I ever heard about you was that you could punch through plexiglass."

"I could," Cassandra said. "But you know how much I love watching you work."

Superman smiled. "Stand back, Cass."

She did so.

He reared back and threw a light punch, rendering the plexiglass into heavy shards.

Cassandra stepped out of the cell, kicking a few shards out of the way and looked down at the duffel bag.

"My work clothes?" she asked.

Superman nodded.

"Okay," Cassandra said. "First thing's first… Aaliyah, could you come here for a second?"

Aaliyah sheepishly stepped forward.

"Jesus," Cassandra said. "There's, uh… There's a lot I have to explain to you."

And Aaliyah seemed to grow two whole feet with a sudden outrage, all the more pure for being earned.

"'Explain?'" Aaliyah asked, her voice growing ragged. "Bitch, you shot my mom!"

Cassandra closed her eyes and nodded, before she lifted up the white t-shirt beneath her trench coat.

"Yeah," Cassandra said as she pointed to an area on her bare abdomen. "Right here. Between the organs and past the veins and arteries. I don't have the scars to prove it anymore, but I was shot there repeatedly during my training. In that exact same spot. And when I flinched, I was shot again. I know that part of the body by heart. In fact, I was shot there the day I met Babs."

Aaliyah just tilted her head and blinked.

"I called myself 'Orphan,'" Cassandra said as she put her shirt back down. "We fought a cannibal named Dollhouse… I had a chocolate milkshake for the first time, it was, uh… It was awesome. The milkshake part, not the cannibal part. Although..."

"What if you missed?" Aaliyah asked.

"If I missed, then ninety percent of gunshot wounds are survivable if they make it to the hospital in ten minutes. Talia was already in the hospital with a doctor standing five feet away. As long I didn't hit her in the heart or the face, she was always going to be okay. And I didn't miss."

Aaliyah shifted on her feet. Like she could see Cassandra's point, but didn't quite want to.

"I'm not gonna say it isn't gonna take some time," Cassandra said, "but I would like to get us on friendly terms again. Eventually."

"I don't like you," Aaliyah said. "Not even a little bit."

Cassandra smirked. "Tell you what. When all this cools down, I will give you one shot to hit me in the face with a two-by-four as hard as you can."

Aaliyah shifted on her feet yet again, only this time her expression softened ever-so-slightly.

"Well," Aaliyah said, "maybe I like you a little."

Cassandra's smirk turned into a smile. "Good girl. You mind giving me and Conner a minute?"

Aaliyah nodded and went back to the door.

"What is it?" Superman asked.

Cassandra put her hands in her trench coat, and looked down, waiting for the blush to recede from her cheeks.

"Steph and me might be a thing now," Cassandra said. "I mean, a real thing."

She finally looked up at him.

Superman looked confused for a second… but a smile finally broke out on his face. He wrapped her in a tight hug and kissed her on the forehead.

"Good," he said softly into her ear. "You're a heck of a girl, Cass. Someone should treat you that way."

She pulled away slightly to look at him. "Not many guys would react this well to their ex-girlfriends walking off with another woman."

"Have you seen Stephanie Brown?" Superman asked. "I'd pick her over me too."

Cassandra felt good enough to laugh at this.

"Are you sure you don't need me after I see the young lady outside?" Superman asked.

"We'll be fine," said Cassandra. "Gotham looks after itself. But thanks for the help so far. Go back to Washington. Be Superman."

She looked down at the duffel bag at her feet.

"I have to get dressed," Cassandra said. "So many appointments to keep."

The Birds of Prey walked right in through the front door.

Superman had pacified the lion's share of the League and Squire forces, but there was still a large contingent situated at the front of the main building of the asylum.

Bluebird was behind Huntress and Black Canary when they barged in as though they had a patient to drop off and precious damned little time in which to do it.

Black Canary took a deep breath…

"SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

...and the resulting Canary Cry knocked all twenty or so henchmen off their feet, flinging their weapons from their hands.

One of them tried to get up, but Huntress fired one of her crossbow bolts into his left kneecap.

And while she saw this, Bluebird had to chide herself for thinking I used to be an adventurer like you.

One of them jumped up from behind the reception desk, pistol in hand. Bluebird took it upon herself to bring a taser pistol up from beneath her leather jacket. One round was all it took before he was wrapped in blue tendrils of electricity, and he was sent to the ground with drool-bubbles coming out of the corner of his mouth.

She heard heavy, rapid boot-falls on the tile to her right.

Bluebird looked to see a Squire running at her, fury in his eyes, brandishing a shattered wooden chair leg.

Before she could aim her pistol, however, she heard a sound from behind her that was almost mythical in its ungodliness.

"NYAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Harley Quinn, clad in a red and black tracksuit, her blond hair fashioned into unruly pigtails, flew over Bluebird, her baseball bat held high.

And Bluebird had no idea where she got the room for the running jump.

Harley brought the bat down on the stampeding Squire where neck ended and collarbone began. He fell to the floor of the admissions lobby as though his strings had been cut.

She brought her bat up again.

"HARLEY!" Bluebird yelled.

The ex-clown stopped, and looked at her.

"No bodies," Bluebird said.

"Oh," Harley said. "Gotcha."

After which she stopped and idly looked at the three Birds dispatching their foes.

"So," Harley said. "Birds-a Prey, huh?"

"I just started," Bluebird said as she fired a couple of more shots, "but yeah."

"Whaddya guys do?" Harley asked. "Go to places around the world and beat the snot out of people?"

Black Canary was elegantly peppering a Squire with kicks to the abdomen. "It's a little more complicated than that. But pretty much."

"I see," Harley said. "And you guys get paid?"

Huntress made sure that the Squire she had by the neck was thoroughly watering the floor with the blood streaming from his nose. "Again; complicated, but yes. It's a whole thing."

"Uh-huh," Harley said. "So, uh…. Can I join?"

Bluebird saw Black Canary and Huntress sport identical expressions of bottomless terror. The sound that came out of their mouths was one of great and mortal offense as they simultaneously yelled:

"NO!"

Aaliyah followed Superman out of the Inter-Patient Therapy wing, through the depths of the building, and toward a rear exit. All the while, she was careful not to step on his cape.

Once they got to the admissions lobby of this small side building, they happened to fall upon two Squires that had not, up to this point, been dispatched by any of the superheroes swarming the island.

And they both had assault rifles.

They only had time to to level their weapons, before two quick beams of Heat Vision came out of Superman's eyes. They hit each Squire on the hand, forcing them to drop their guns.

Superman turned to her.

"Selina told me at Dick's wake that your parents must have taught you how to take care of yourself. And I understand that, after today, you might have some frustrations you may want to let out."

He looked at the two Squires holding their scalded hands, before he turned back to her.

"So what I'm asking is… You want to take care of them, or should I?"

Aaliyah looked at the Squires, and her vision turned red.

A scream which Aaliyah, a few moments prior, would not have thought herself capable, emerged from her mouth. Her legs carried her quickly toward the two Squires before prudence could dictate further terms.

Her feet came up in a missile dropkick, almost imprinting the Squire to the left into the wall behind him.

As she kipped up, the Squire on the right tried to fling a punch, but Aaliyah ducked it. She kicked him in the shin, bringing him to one knee, before she grabbed his left arm and yanked hard. She could feel the vibration of his shoulder dislocating in her hands as he screamed.

One knee to the face later, and it was all over.

The Squire to the left got back to his feet, only for a rapid sweep by Aaliyah's right leg to drop him again. She brought her leg up, and then back down again, her foot turning his nose to powder within the flesh of his face. He turned over and curled up, unable to continue.

Aaliyah looked back at Superman, who was regarding her with open-mouthed shock.

"Tight," he said.

"Thank you."

"TIIIIIIIGHT!"

"Thank you again."

He had closed the gap, put his hand on her shoulder, and held the front door open for her.

She hadn't had time to register the number of vehicles in the lot, or the sheer amount of destruction that Superman had wrought upon the multiple edifices that comprised Arkham Asylum, before he clapped her on the shoulder yet again.

"Well, Aaliyah, it's been real," Superman said. "But I have to head out. And before you ask, I'll put in a good word for you with Jon. Have a good one."

And he was off. Up, up, and away, before Aaliyah could ask "Say what there now?"

From the lot, someone called to her.

"Hey, kid!"

Aaliyah looked down.

Amidst the recently arrived vehicles in the Arkham Asylum parking lot, there was a blue Bentley. And there stood Jason Todd in a gray suit with no tie, leaning against the passenger door, smile firmly etched on his face.

"Need a ride?" he asked.

THE MONORAIL

Tim and Mother Panic had breached the gleaming white monorail at its midpoint, which meant that they had trouble on both sides, coming from the front and rear.

At first, Tim thought that this was an error in the planning skills of Violet Paige… until he heard the snaps.

They came as Tim was fending off two Squires with his bo staff. Across a small mountain of unconscious Squires they came. Tim jabbed the one on the right directly in the nose with his staff, before pelting the one on the left was a swipe so vicious that his face pinged off the metal of the staff, only to ping yet again off the metal of one of the poles in the middle of the car for the use of standing passengers.

SNAP!

They were both thunderously loud on their own, but they came together with the sound of a bomb going off.

Tim turned toward the noise.

He knew that Mother Panic had had a wrestling background from the time she had spent at Gather House. So it wasn't entirely alien to his ken that he would see her with a Squire in the grip of a full nelson.

But the Squire's arms were bent back unnaturally. He seemed to be in such pain that he could only barely vocalize it. And at once. Tim knew what happened.

In putting her arms beneath his armpits and pressing forward on his neck, Mother Panic had totally shattered this poor asshole's shoulder blades.

She freed him from her grip, grabbed one of his useless arms, and swung him overhead, like a cudgel, upon the two Squires at her rear, trying to advance. The three men collapsed in a laundry pile of broken, useless humanity.

Whereupon Mother Panic threw her head back and roared.

Tim knew that she hadn't made an error in her planning. He just knew that she just really wanted to hit something. Preferably lots of somethings over as long a frame of time as she could possibly manage.

Seeing Mother Panic standing there, letting out a warrior spirit that civilization was supposed to have bred out of her with such a full-throated abandon, Tim felt…

...something.

He didn't know.

Everyone in this car was out.

Onto the next.

ARKHAM ASYLUM

During their fight in the hall, Bruce and Selina had managed to maneuver Ra's away from the scimitar he had dropped.

That was where most of the good news ended.

Ra's al Ghul had kept himself in peak physical condition.

So had Bruce and Selina Wayne, but they were swimming against the tide of one indisputable fact:

Ra's al Ghul had not gotten any older in the past thirty years. And the Waynes, despite how strong, how fast, and how relatively fresh they'd kept themselves, very much had.

They had press-ganged Ra's into the Therapy Block mess hall where, even after all this time, there were still tables and chairs set up.

Ra's brought a fist across the top of Selina's head. It was a glancing blow, to be sure, but it hit where it was aimed: the stitches at her hairline from their run-in with the Arkham Knight the day before. Her head rocked, and when it came back, blood had started to flow.

A savage kick to the midsection sent Selina into one of the metal folding chairs. Her ass hit the seat and she teetered back to the floor, her face hitting the tile with a wet splat, the blood on her face Jackson Pollocking the ground.

Bruce came in, sending one… two… three punches into the face of Ra's al Ghul.

Ra's leered back at him, blood flowing from a busted nose and a split lip, staining the collar of his freshly-starched white shirt.

He smiled.

Ra's drove a knee deep into Bruce's leather jacket-clad stomach, robbing him of his air. He unloaded a left hook into Bruce's face with such a power that he momentarily went blind. He didn't see the kick that Ra's al Ghul sent into his sternum, sending him to the floor with blood in his mouth.

As his vision cleared, Bruce saw Selina come up behind Ra's with her bullwhip uncoiled, and wrap it around his throat.

Insanity was upon Selina, if the fire in her green eyes were any indication. With her teeth bared, she reared back on the whip with such force that the parts of her face that weren't caked in blood turned red anyway.

The eyes of Ra's al Ghul bulged in his skull as he reached back with both his hands, and found the back of Selina's neck.

He flung her over his head, and through the table at his right. The cheap wood exploded into shards and dust, after which Selina lay momentarily motionless.

Ra's plucked the bullwhip from his throat and flung it to the side, before removing his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

He walked toward Bruce.

And Bruce rose to meet him.

A lone Squire broke away from his squad and tried to get the hell out of this literal and figurative madhouse.

The place was crawling with superheroes from Gotham City and far, far beyond, and in the estimation of this lone Squire, the fight was doomed.

He made his way through the wing that led to Inter-Patient Therapy.

A door to the eastern part of the building opened.

And he stopped and gaped at what he saw.

For he stood in the presence of Batman.

Cassandra Wayne's new suit was high-tech and analogue at the same time. It's simple dark gray kevlar plating. Molded to her upper and lower torso, was lightweight over an identically colored spandex bodysuit. There were enough gaps in the suit that would, to an informed observer, let all manner of bullets in.

However, the black Bat symbol across her chest let off an Active Friction Field at all times. If someone shot at Batman, the Active Friction Field would slow the velocity of the bullet down to that of, say, a spit-wad fired from the back of a classroom.

Batman's suit was old school. Gray armor, black boots, black trunks, black cowl, black cape, black symbol, yellow utility belt.

Her cowl showed the bottom half of Batman's face, which was something she'd have to get used to. Across her full lips was a swipe of black lipstick… This had no psychological or combat practicality, she just thought it looked cool.

Black Bat had spent six years in the shadows, desperately avoiding any kind of attention.

But today? Batman would be seen today.

With one brutal strike, she sent the lone Squire into unconsciousness, before she opted to walk out of the building.

She entered an anterior hallway to find ten more Squires, no doubt, looking for their missing compatriot.

Thirty seconds later, when they were all unconscious, Batman continued her walk.

She entered the main lobby, where the Birds of Prey (and their tag-along Harley Quinn) were at violent and bloody war with twenty or so Squires.

Batman opted not to help.

They looked like they had it under control.

She felt the eyes of the heroes in the room scrape across her.

Black Canary was in shock.

Huntress had the gall to smile.

Bluebird seemed to be doing math in her head. For it occurred to Cassandra that Harper Row was the only person on Earth who could ever say that they slept with a Robin, a Batgirl, and a Batman… so yeah, that was something she could tell her kid one day.

Harley looked at Batman with sheer terror. A terror that was only amplified when Batman shot her a withering glare in return. For Cassandra Wayne did not care for Harleen Quinzel as a person in the slightest. A few weeks playing her on stage could do that to a person.

She walked out the door and into the open air.

Superman had pelted the place to near oblivion. It looked like it had been bombed by the Allies in 1943. All four main buildings were barely standing.

Batman's eyes fell to the parking lot. There was one car, a trio of motorcycles, and…

BOOM!

...a freshly decloaked Batmobile.

The roof of the vehicle slid back to reveal Catwoman lazily draped across both front seats with her hands behind her head, as though she were lazing about in a hammock.

The eggplant-colored nanosuit hugged every curve of Stephanie Brown's body, while maintaining a baseline level of modesty. As Batman's eyes slalomed down Catwoman's inviting form, she remembered not too long ago that she had had her fists and her feet… and her hands and her lips and her tongue all over her.

As far as memories went, it was one of the happier ones. One that she'd like to revisit one day. Or one night. Or this night, when this was all over.

It was only when the two made eye-contact that Batman realized that Catwoman was eyeing her just as greedily.

"Bat…" Catwoman said.

Batman folded her arms. "Cat…"

They both held that eye-contact for a moment… before they both involuntarily shuddered.

"Jesus, that was awkward," Catwoman said.

"Yeah," said Batman. "Let's, uh… Let's never do that again."