"Gotham"
A 'Smallville' fan fiction
All characters are owned by DC Comics, Warner Brothers, and their respective partners.
'Superman' was created by Jerry Siegel and Joe Shuster.
'Batman' was created by Bob Kane
Timeframe: The summer between "Vortex" and "Heat" in season two
Disclaimer: I own plenty, but not these characters (not even Kaminski, not yet anyway…)
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Instead of having Bruce Wayne come to Smallville, I wanted Clark Kent to come to Gotham. I wanted to re-imagine Batman's origin to a very short extent. You will see many, many of the same things about Batman's past you've always heard. But if you look at it, there is room to grow in the origin of Batman, and since Smallville is all about origins, why not introduce another of the World's Finest? I'm not going to pull a JJ Abrams and make Bruce homosexual, have Alfred be a robot, or the existence of Wayne Enterprises a mere myth. I loved these characters since I was very young, starting with Batman: The Animated Series and with this fiction I am just putting the characters in different places. What if Clark Kent witnessed the murder of Bruce's parents, and who exactly was behind it? I'm only bringing you a "what if?" story that hopefully will entertain and make you happy when it ends.
A/N Chapter 10: Sorry it has taken so long, but I felt as if the direction of the story was being too rushed and was turning into an episode of Birds of Prey. So I have taken a couple seminars [since there is nothing else to do in a quiet empty classroom for an hour and a half] to finish up this story. So in one big update I give you 10 and 11, hopefully I will wrap up the story with 12 and an epilogue. I really am proud of these last chapters, after reading Max Allan Collin's Dark Angel novel "Before the Dawn" I was really inspired to adapt a better writing style. So enjoy.
Ten: Promised Land
Kaminski leapt out of the helicopter as it glided and nicely perched down onto the landing of the illustrious clock tower rooftop. He tumbled out, but was gleeful no matter what the situation was at hand. He was going to win this game.
He glanced over the ledge on his trot to the entrance to view the streets below, which had become a mass chaos of police cruisers, paramedics, and most abundantly: news vans. A spotlight lit up his face, reminding him of the dozens of helicopters circling the building, but he smiled as he stared down the barrel of the bright beam. He was smitten to see it was in fact a police chopper. They wouldn't make a move; it was too early, too risky. The big steel door, the entrance to the clock tower lair, swung open with a roaring slam. Kaminski's moment of fortune broke and he rolled, running was too human, inside. He greeted the guard, whom also served as an assistant. Kaminski hadn't bothered to learn the guy's name, considering someone would probably end up killing him in the end.
Kaminski then picked up his white gloves from a nearby table, lifted his arms, and screamed, "Music!"
The beams from the helicopters, news and police alike, beamed through the sliver-like windows and the glass structure of the clock's face. Kaminski wasn't concerned though; he enjoyed the thrill of a situation like the one at hand. He just smiled as the music was finally switched on, and he raised his chin and hands just before the first note…
So as Bruce and Clark raced to reach Kaminski at the tower, Lex and Lionel presumably rested at the penthouse, and the citizens of Gotham watched the situation unfold from their television sets; Kaminski, in his psychopathic glory, was conducting his pretend orchestra as Beethoven's Ninth Symphony blared from the eight speakers surrounding the room. It was as if the symphony was heaven itself, and Kaminski was dancing on the clouds.
The guard, standing tall and muscular as any stereotypical guard would, tried not to laugh at the site he was witnessing before him. He had actually contemplated on throwing a Bee gees track as the next song up, but he was in this for the money, and fooling around with Kaminski meant an exit from the payroll.
A bang on the door again, it was just the helicopter pilot. The guard opened then quickly shut the door as the thin blonde swam through the air to the "comfy" couch, as she described it; Kaminski had stolen from a Rent-A-Center. She plopped down and sighed at the site before her, "Isn't this song like a half an hour or somethin'?" She snapped her gum and curled her lip.
"It is as long as he wants it to be," The guard moaned.
"Why must the psycho's always hire me?" She played with her hair and un-buckled her boots.
"They seem to have a thing for blondes…"
She just scowled at him.
"…Or blondes have a thing for them?" He shrugged.
Then the symphony went on.
And on.
The car holding Bruce and Clark nearly leapt into the crowd of police cruisers and news vans parked outside the clock tower. Clark surveyed the area for the best way to get in, his eyes piercing through the crowd. Bruce just wanted to know how to not draw attention to himself.
The cops, scattered around like dazed and confused ants, radioed one another at the site of Bruce's arrival. They hadn't got five feet from the car when a familiar face thankfully emerged from the mass gathering.
"I had a feeling you'd follow suit and head for the Promised Land…" Lex smiled.
"Oh, you aren't leading?" Clark said, almost not wanting to due to the situation. But Jonathan had always encouraged to try and make the best of any somber time.
Bruce just nodded. They all looked at each other for a brief moment at a loss for words. Lex picked up on what was happening. He didn't think before he flipped open his phone and the LexCorp helicopter hovering above dove from the crowd of choppers surrounding the tower. Bruce looked at him with shock.
"Why the hell is your chopper up there?"
"Free publicity, and sheer boredom. He's got a camera too, you know how that goes, Tivo's hard drive is full."
"Ah, never trust technology."
"Right," Lex agreed, "And these sorts of things are always easier from above…"
"Speak from experience?" Clark added in.
"If only you knew."
"There just seems to be an abundance of helicopters this week," Clark laughed.
"There does…along with maniacal killers," Bruce sighed as he watched the helicopter swoop down and land in a park across the street. The LexCorp logo was newly minted on the side.
The pilot slammed the door shut as the three of them buckled themselves in. The police wouldn't bother them now, Michelle and Lex had made sure of that. The news was taken care of as well, since the windows were brilliantly tinted the same day as the new logo was painted on.
A Wayne and a Luthor finally working together to take down a mad man, it would have been the story of the year. Too bad they would never really ever get a glance as to who was in that chopper.
Of course the only person who actually knew they were in that helicopter was Lionel. Listening quaintly to the television from his chair in the penthouse, he longed for his vision and the chance to see his son help save the day. There was a proud smirk on his face, nonetheless.
"Where will we land?" Clark curiously looked out on the roof.
"We won't." Bruce blankly stared, waiting.
The helicopter swung down around just outside a crevice formed by two wall structures of the clock. It would be considered an alley if it were on the ground, littered with unused trash bins and rusting spare parts from construction.
They all avoided news cameras again by jumping out fast enough to not be spotted and for the chopper to pull away as Clark's heel left the floor. He was happy; no exposure meant no explanation for his parents. The helicopter just joined the others once again, watching over the trio as they made their move.
The alleyway was not considered very long, or wide, since it was only meant for storage. One end led out to a brief pathway to a viewing balcony, and the other to an inner storage chamber. Clark immediately x-rayed the scene, they had not been spotted by Kaminski and there were no other people in site. So he did the natural hero thing and burst through the big door to the storage room.
"Clark, the last thing we need is recklessness." Bruce reminded him.
Clark just rolled his eyes, "Sorry about that."
"Do you hear that…?" Lex silenced them, holding up his index finger for that exact reason.
"Beethoven's Ninth?" Bruce asked, knowing all to well it was; "He must be a music aficionado as well."
"Regardless, he is a killer." Lex leaned on the steel wall.
The room was completely dark, damp, humid and musty. The smell reminded Clark of his father's old tool shed, the one they don't use anymore.
The music stopped. They stood at alert, perhaps they had been picked up by something.
The click of a microphone picking up made them jump, as someone sighed over the loud speaker.
"When a man…loves a woman!" Kaminski burst into song as the music track trailed behind his hectic vocals.
The trio sighed at once, and their attention focused on their next move. This was of course delayed somewhat by the constant annoyance of Kaminski's annoying performance of the passé song.
"What record label out there hasn't turned this guy down?" Clark thought, remembering Chloe's sarcastic sense of humor.