In the Shadow of the Bat

The Doctor's Rounds

Mortimer Drake, the adventurer once called the Cavalier, smiled slightly as the handsome black haired man shadowed his employer in the clinic run by Leslie Thompkins. The Martha Wayne Memorial Clinic was financed by the Wayne foundation, providing medical services to those in need, and it's head doctor, Leslie, put in long hours. Mortimer's main job was to keep her safe, not always a easy task.

"Mort, you don't need to keep shadowing me," Leslie complained as she finished splinting a young gangster's arm.

Mortimer kept a eye on the other kids, as well as looking around for the rival gang. "You know I'm being paid quite well by the Wayne trust. Besides, you have a distressing lack of situational awareness," he noted wryly.

Leslie grunted softly as she finished up with the boy. "Please try not to be back here too soon?" she asked hopefully.

"Do what I can," the young man answered uncomfortably.

Thankfully the rest of the gang didn't rob the place. And the rival gang was nowhere to be found. Two small favors. Mortimer watched Leslie close up, at last, noting it was nearly eleven o'clock. But she probably wasn't done for the night.

"Where to now, Ma'am?" Mortimer asked politely.

"Would it kill you to call me Leslie?" the older woman complained.

Quite deadpan Mortimer replied, "Yes, actually."

Leslie snorted in amusement. "I have some errands to run before I go home," she admitted, "you're welcome to clock out, though."

"No, I think young Mister Drake would have my head if I did that," Mortimer shook his head.

They ended up checking on Spoiler first. Leslie had a almost motherly relationship with the heroine, the two having bonded when they went to Africa together. Personally Mortimer found her smart mouthed and abrasive, but there was no accounting for taste.

Steph smiled, "Still got the B-lister following you?"

"The pay is good," Mortimer shrugged, pretending the insult didn't sting a bit.

"No bullet wounds this time," Leslie noted, "good. I hear you are working with Tarantula?"

"Somewhat," Steph agreed, "I'm hoping to help her reform."

"Well, be careful," Leslie cautioned, "Nightwing refuses to talk about his time working with her at all, which is quite unusual for him."

"Agreed," Steph nodded, "I'll do my best."

Leslie smiled fondly and ruffled the girl's hair before heading out. Mortimer looked at her thoughtfully as they returned to the street, "You care a lot about her."

"I do," Leslie admitted readily, "I never had kids, but if I had a daughter I'd like her to be like Steph."

Mortimer nearly made a 'granddaughter' crack, but decided it wouldn't be wise. "Are we checking on Ms Kyle tonight?" he asked politely. Of course they both knew she was Catwoman, but neither would say that. Politeness.

"Yes she has a new lost lamb she wants me to check over," Leslie noted wryly.

"Hmm," Mortimer mused as they caught a cab. There were rumours about Ms Kyle's interests... sadly nothing proven. Which would have been hot.

The Community Center wasn't all that far from Leslie's clinic, but it was in a worse neighbourhood, with more run down buildings and crime. He kept a wary eye out as they headed inside, even though his trouncing of the last mugging attempt had convinced the locals to stay back.

"Hey, Doc!" Holly waved cheerfully as the older woman came in. She frowned at the man, "And Mort."

"Yo," Mort waved back, deadpan.

Leslie ignored that byplay, hugging Holly briskly. "You called?" she asked curiously.

"A friend of mine fainted while we were running the soup kitchen today," Holly explained, "I was hoping you could take a look at her?"

"Certainly," Leslie agreed.

The pale albino was not what Mort expected, the young woman looking embarassed over being fussed over. He judged she was young, in her twenties, and was dressed in what looked like second hand clothes. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but...

"You don't need to do this," Mary Scott smiled, trying to wave Leslie off.

"Don't worry, no cold instruments," Leslie teased genially. She looked over at Mortimer, "Could you wait outside."

Mortimer was tempted to refuse, but it was mostly instinct. The girl reminded him of Joker and Harley Quinn. "I'll be right outside the door," he promised.

It took a agonizing ten minutes for Leslie to emerge, looking thoughtful. "Well?" Holly demanded impatiently.

"She's got nothing seriously wrong with her," Leslie said honestly, "my best guess would be she's somewhat malnourished."

"Huh?" Holly blinked.

"She's eating enough, I think, but she needs some specific things because of her albinism that she isn't getting," Leslie noted. "I'll write you up a list."

"You really don't need to...," Mary protested, having followed her out.

Holly shook her head, "I thought you looked a bit wobbly earlier. I should have done something about it then."

Mortimer was faintly amused as he watched the situation, then frowned as the doors to the center popped open and a cop hustled in. "Mary, you okay?" the woman asked, hurrying over.

"I'm fine, Cathy," Mary reassured her.

Cathy Hendrix, Mortimer identified her by the name tag, was clearly more than a friend as she looked at Mary worriedly. It reminded him of a old film, as Cathy took the other woman's hands and looked into her eyes. Leslie looked on, amused, while Holly cleared her throat.

"Thank you for coming," Holly told Leslie wryly.

"I'm glad to help," Leslie said honestly. Curiously she asked, "Is Selina...?"

"Out," Holly shrugged and Leslie nodded knowingly.

Mortimer chuckled softly. Either she was out Catwomaning, or possibly screwing Batman. Possibly both at the same time. Checking his watch he nodded to Leslie, "I hate to interrupt, but..."

Leslie sighed, "I have to go. Give Selina my regards, please."b

"Will do," Holly agreed.

The two headed outside, and Mortimer felt a presence. The hair on the back of his neck went up, just like when... he looked up, as the dark figure swooped down. "Behind me, ma'am," he ordered even as he braced himself.

Batman hit the ground in a swirl of his cape, then calmly stood. Dressed in black, gray and blue he was a ominous figure, deliberately looking like some creature from a horror movie. Mortimer knew he was human, knew there was a flesh and blood man under that costume, but even he was unnerved a little.

"Doctor Thompkins," Batman said in that deep voice he used, "you shouldn't be out this late."

"Oh, tosh," Leslie ignored that as she advanced on him. "You haven't been to the clinic lately. Are you all right, Br.. Batman?"

"I'm fine," Batman brushed it off, actually looking a bit embarrassed.

Mortimer bit back a smile, then gruffly said, "You know each other, I take it."

"We do," Batman agreed, staring down at him through the cowl lenses that made his eyes look eerily blank.

Mort met them defiantly, not letting on how much they unnerved him.

Batman actually smiled faintly. "Good luck, I hope you can stay on the straight and narrow this time," he said as he took a step or two away.

Before Mortimer could react there was a soft whoosh of compressed air then Batman disappeared into the sky, pulled by a launched cable. "Damn," he muttered, wishing he could get in the last word with the caped crusader.

"I think he likes you," Leslie teased, "he's your special Bat-friend."

"Please, no," Mortimer sighed. He looked at the older woman, "Can you go home now? I need a rest. A LONG rest."

Leslie snickered. "Actually, I wanted to check on one other friend," she admitted, "but I think it can wait until tomorrow."

"Thank you," Mortimer smiled gratefully. "Shall I call a car?" he asked.

"Please," Leslie agreed.

To be continued...

Notes: Not as long as planned, but not bad. Leslie doing her rounds WOULD have included a visit with Tim Drake and Cass Cain, but maybe later.