Chapter 13: Moving Day
"To summarise the situation, it is as thus. You are at my mercy, inoculated with a paralysis inducing concoction whose recipe has been…procured from one of the fine inmates of this asylum. You have been misled, assaulted, vexed, tested and tried in order to reach this place, which you now hope to escape. Let me make it clear, you will not escape…you will die. Welcome to the tea party."
The Mad Hatter gestures and Clayface transforms himself into a sturdy chair, landing adjacent to the small table and tea set by the fireplace. The Hatter fluffs his green trench coat before assuming a seat. He reaches for the tea cup and with pinkie extended takes cup to lips and sips accordingly. His eyes then re-fix their gaze upon the paralyzed Batman, "Ah…a Wonderful elixir." He arcs his head and puts his hand to his ear, "Can you hear them? The writhing, screaming, tortured masses outside, crying for help? Your city is dying, and soon you shall join it."
The Hatter frowns at Batman's silence and tosses the empty cup at the crusader's skull, shattering it upon the cowl's armour. He then giggles stupidly, "You see how simple it is? I would have turned your fair burg into a Wonderful utopia had you not interfered. Now you must pay for your folly. Granted the water supply had been under intensive scrutiny since our last encounter, but Clayface took care of that problem. Mix in a pinch of Scarecrow's secret sauce with my mental inducers and voila, mass hysteria!"
The Hatter pauses and is met by Batman's silence yet again. Annoyed, the Hatter continues, "He's really quite remarkable, you know," the Hatter comments coolly as he pats the arms of the chair, "Even though he lost his muse when it comes to human anatomy after I placed him under my control, he can still perform an excellent March Hare." The Hatter winks as he rises from the seat, "Here, let me show you."
The chair then bends and folds, moves and churns into a dark haired caricature of a rabbit, wearing a red coat and loony expression. The Hatter is in awe, "Wonderful. No other word can do it justice. Can you imagine?" the Hatter questions as he takes a brief glimpse of the Batman, "A thespian of such quality, shunned? It's a crime. Still, there are plenty of other cities to try, aren't there?" he ruffles the top of the hare's head, "Plenty more chances at Wonderland…"
"You're looking very good," Batman mutters as best as possible, the drug permitting only limited speaking skills, "for a dead man."
"What?" the Hatter turns with a start. The Batman is still rooted to the spot so the Hatter smiles perversely, "Oh yes, my ill advised team-up with the Joker. Well, I got better."
"Ra's al Ghul," Batman sputters.
The Hatter's ears perk up at the sound of the name, "Yes, that's right. Mr. Rash-a-Goo, or something," the Hatter giggles, "never could get the name right. See, Mr. Rash had a problem which only I could properly solve. Mr. Rash had an elixir of immortality in his possession, so he had me ferreted out of my coffin and revived, and upon my reanimation I added to his elixir my mind numbing potion. The result was an army of near perfect, immortal and completely loyal slaves, just what he had ordered, no fuss, no muss. I, of course, appropriated all I could during my stay, including some of the elixir, and used my formidable talents to make sure I lived beyond the expiration of our agreement. After all, giant transmitters and grand schemes of revenge don't fund themselves. Upon returning to Gotham I secured the asylum and had Clayface inoculate Ms. Quinzel with the elixir during her hospital stay, knowing you'd investigate sooner or later, sending you on a chase for the White Rabbit while I completed my plans."
The Batman grins, "You've made one mistake, Tetch."
"Oh?" the Hatter marks with an innocuous look on his face.
"Dent."
"You had your White Rabbit, and the police had theirs," the Mad Hatter replies dryly, "He was a decoy, nothing more."
"He helped the police."
"Only briefly," the Hatter answers in a huff.
"He saved the Commissioner's life."
"A minor glitch," an irritated Hatter sneers, "I didn't really want the kill Gordon anyway."
"He was leading them here…"
The Mad Hatter screams, "Now really! That is too much! I have shown you courtesy and hospitality, the least you could do is shut-your-damned-mouth in regards to HIM! I understand the executed is to have a last request, but this is above and beyond! Dent? Dent was a…a constant burden, like you are! He wouldn't eat his tainted meals, he would always sleep with one eye open and he'd dissociate himself from the inmates as much as possible! It…it was uncanny, like he had a sixth sense telling him something was amiss, so I had the Penguin approach him, and when his guard was down the Riddler fixed him and I sent him away! AWAY I SAY! He wasn't to be trusted and I sent him AWAY!! AND THE FOOL STILL MANAGED TO REMOVE THE CHIP!!! He was insufferable, just as you are!" The Hatter feigns a fainting spell and Clayface catches him, becoming a comfortable chair in the process.
The Hatter takes a deep breath to calm himself as he reaches into his coat pocket, "It's quite liberating, being deceased, as you'll soon find out," the Hatter produces a small revolver from his pocket and aims it squarely at the Batman's skull, "Armour piercing. Now here we are…to paint the roses red…" and he begins to squeeze the trigger.
The gun explodes and at the last second Batman moves his head to one side and out of the bullet's path. He then drives forward and snatches the gun from the Hatter with one hand and smashes him in the face with the other before a second shot can be fired. The chair falls back and Clayface transforms into a slick slide leading through the door, which the stunned Mad Hatter glides upon thanks to the momentum of Batman's single blow. Once the Hatter is through Clayface immediately follows, slithering his form away and slamming the door shut behind him.
Batman takes a moment to ease his muscles back from the paralysis they had suffered, giving him a chance to remember Ivy's kiss. She could kill with a kiss, but this time she… she's… she's so…
He shakes his head to rouse his senses back. She must have transferred a portion of her immunity to him. How? He cannot fathom, but it's the only explanation.
He takes a long look at the gun in his hand and shudders before placing it into his utility belt. With a leap and a kick he smashes through the door his prey had passed, a hail of splinters announcing his arrival. The greeting is another dimly lit, sparsely furnished room.
"Where am I, Batman?" a voice like slime and ooze calls from nowhere and everywhere at once, echoing off the walls. Batman instinctively reaches for his utility belt as the creature continues, "Am I the chair? The mantle? Maybe I'm the rug you're standing on? Or the chandelier? What am I, Batman?"
Batman crouches down into a defensive stance.
"You'll never guess," the creature calls, and the entire room comes crashing down upon the caped crusader, enveloping him in an ever shrinking bubble of ooze. With a single fluid motion Batman draws forth an ice gun from his belt and cranks it to full as his clay tomb is sealed. Bracing himself, he grabs hold of the weapon with both hands and fires at the clay as it advances all about him. He does not budge, continuing the relentless assault as brown ooze begins to flow upon him. His hands, though insulated, start to feel the icy chill as frost begins to envelope them. His face, his entire body for that matter, could feel the chill build, but so could Clayface. Soon the creature is still and the Batman stops the onslaught. About the dark knight is clay with ice crystals jutting forth every which-way, making for a very fragile creature. With a mighty effort he pushes his legs forth, feeling the frozen clay crack under the pressure, and with the second effort it shatters into a cold shower, littering the room in fragments. He does not have the time to savour his victory, however, since his gloves are fused together in a large shroud of ice that's rock hard at the source. Batman lies down on his back and uses his legs to push the gloves off, inch by painful inch. Near frostbitten fingers soon emerge and he winces in pain at their sight. With a scowl on his face he takes the ice chunk his hands were trapped in and kicks it into the fire, dousing the flame. The feeling barely returned to his fingers he gingerly clasps the gun in his utility belt and looks about the room. There doesn't appear to be another exit in sight and no clues in regards to the Hatter's escape route. Nothing…save for a large looking glass lying adjacent to the far wall.
Batman scans the outline of the mirror, feeling as best he can its edges with his fingers, and comes to the conclusion that it is an entranceway. He taps it gently and listens to the depth of the sound that emanates.
"Not too deep," he muses as he looks about at Clayface's frozen remnants, "but likely a trap." Spying what he needs he grabs hold of a large, pointed fragment. Lifting it up he takes a few steps back and raises it high above his head, the pointed end aimed towards the mirror, "Through the looking glass, Alice." After taking a deep breath he hurls the projectile with all his might, smashing it into the mirror and shattering the edifice into millions of jagged shards.
Beyond the mirror the Mad Hatter was standing within a tiny abode next to a large, complex looking computer panel with wires leading out of a nearby window and up to the roof, and the neural transmitter. The Hatter was busily at work on his instruments, but upon hearing the nearby destruction he turns with a start. Batman rushes into the room before the Hatter has a chance to react and draws his gun forth from the utility belt, prompting a very frightened Hatter to whimper, "Don't…don't come any closer! I'm warning you!"
Batman takes the measure of the room and a grim smile forms upon his lips.
"I'm warning…warning you! I've reconfigured the system! They'll…they'll all perish immediately if you harm me! They'll…"
Batman merely raises his arm and unloads the gun into the computer. Sparks fly and pieces shatter as each slug hits home. The entire console flickers for a moment, then dies altogether. Batman then tosses the gun away and sneers, "You never were very good under pressure, Jervis."
The Hatter is beside himself, "What…what are you going to do?"
"I've always liked the Queen of Hearts," Batman mutters in his characteristic gravel like voice as he reaches into his utility belt.
The Hatter has only one response. He screams an ear piercing, gut wrenching, maddening scream and turns, leaping through the closed window behind him. Batman removes the batarang with line which he was reaching for and makes it to the edge before the final splinter of glass has fallen. It takes precious milliseconds for him to adjust his grip with his frozen fingers, and even more for his eye to correct for the rain swept air, so instead he listens to the Hatter's scream and lets the batarang fly. Guided by unknown forces of fate the weapon manages to enwrap itself about one of the Hatter's legs and Batman pulls it taunt. His fingers are still badly sore, however, and at best he can only slow the Hatters descent to the stone ground below. There is a sickening thud as bone strikes stone, knocking the Hatter senseless. Batman stares down and sees a man writhing in agony, but alive, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
"You couldn't know Jervis," he whispers, "I was given a new life…and I'm going to live it right…" and he's gone with a flash of lightning and a crackle of thunder…
…
Later that day, once the police had arisen from their stupor and reclaimed the asylum from its dazed denizens, the city of Gotham begins the arduous task of remaking itself once again. Within the cruiser where the Batman had left him, the Commissioner finds a note that fills in the details on the entire case, and on what may be the best way to proceed. Det. Bullock harrumphs at the site of it before being assigned to do exactly what the note entails, leaving the Commissioner alone to whisper a subtle, "Thank-you."
Out of the corner of his eye he manages to spy a familiar silhouette upon one of the rooftops before it vanishes from sight and he knows, deep down, that everything will be alright.
…
Eventually Batgirl decides to return to the cave beneath the ruins of Wayne Manor, having witnessed to her satisfaction Gotham's metamorphosis from chaos to calm. Her sleek motorcycle hums near silently as she navigates the roadway at full throttle. Her mind is awash with possible scenarios as she wonders what will be awaiting her. Her wound is still fresh and sore, and already she could feel the surgeon's handiwork begin to unravel. Whatever may be there, she hopes it is not conflict.
The cave lights burst on upon recognizing their newest master's arrival, and she winces in pain as she dismounts. She pauses for a moment and gauges her surroundings for anything amiss. There is nothing, not another soul in sight, not a sound save the flapping of leathery wings high above.
She accepts his decision and makes her way to the infirmary, hoping her doctoring skills are enough. Upon arriving she spies a tiny package on one of the tables and a note. The package contains a futuristic device used by the Justice League to painlessly cauterize wounds, and the note contains words that make her smile…
…
A scant week later and the weather has undergone a startling transformation. A stark cold front has moved into the city, bringing with it a change from rain to snow. Many of the city's citizens welcome the kiss of winter, seeing the clean, white layer as a blank slate, allowing them to forget recent misdeeds. For others it's a harbinger of how we are so susceptible to rapid, unwanted fluctuation, a reminder that no matter how hard we try to control it, life has a way of following its own path. The Commissioner of Gotham's police force would fall to the latter as he stands within the cemetery, staring at its most recent addition. While he is lost in thought, he is not so far-gone that he doesn't notice the approach of a heavy set man.
The Commissioner pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shoves his cold hands in his pocket, "Harvey."
The unshaven and unkempt man tips his hat, "Commish."
"What brings you by?"
Det. Harvey Bullock doesn't answer, choosing to bend down and drop a single flower upon the grave. He grunts as he rises, "Who's he next to?"
Gordon manages a weak smile, "His future wife."
They stand in silence for a few moments before Bullock offers a warm coffee. Gordon reluctantly accepts and they head off to a nearby diner, walking among the tombstones.
"We've got most of the chips out of the inmates, and the water systems been re-purified," Bullock remarks as they walk, "so there shouldn't be any more problems. I think things'll be back to normal inside another week."
"That's good," Gordon remarks, slightly distracted, "Good to hear."
Bullock stays silent for a moment before continuing, "The Hatter's still out of it though. Man the Bat must've clocked him…"
"Uh huh," Gordon nods, still distracted.
"Look, Commish," Bullock calls out, stopping mid-stride. Gordon turns to face him, "About the Bat. I just wanted to tell you to your face…" his mood softens as he searches for the words, "…you know…he was there, when it mattered …again… despite my bellyaching, he always does the job. And the kid he trained, Batgirl, if it weren't for her we'd be permanent residents here. Look…what I'm trying to say…what I'm getting at…I'm…"
Gordon gives a slight nod as he wraps an arm around the shoulder of his sulking officer, "I'm glad to hear it Bull, I really am. You know, I've only got a few good years left, and they've asked me to pick someone to groom for the job…"
END
Thanks for sticking around to the end. I hope you enjoyed the trip!
"To summarise the situation, it is as thus. You are at my mercy, inoculated with a paralysis inducing concoction whose recipe has been…procured from one of the fine inmates of this asylum. You have been misled, assaulted, vexed, tested and tried in order to reach this place, which you now hope to escape. Let me make it clear, you will not escape…you will die. Welcome to the tea party."
The Mad Hatter gestures and Clayface transforms himself into a sturdy chair, landing adjacent to the small table and tea set by the fireplace. The Hatter fluffs his green trench coat before assuming a seat. He reaches for the tea cup and with pinkie extended takes cup to lips and sips accordingly. His eyes then re-fix their gaze upon the paralyzed Batman, "Ah…a Wonderful elixir." He arcs his head and puts his hand to his ear, "Can you hear them? The writhing, screaming, tortured masses outside, crying for help? Your city is dying, and soon you shall join it."
The Hatter frowns at Batman's silence and tosses the empty cup at the crusader's skull, shattering it upon the cowl's armour. He then giggles stupidly, "You see how simple it is? I would have turned your fair burg into a Wonderful utopia had you not interfered. Now you must pay for your folly. Granted the water supply had been under intensive scrutiny since our last encounter, but Clayface took care of that problem. Mix in a pinch of Scarecrow's secret sauce with my mental inducers and voila, mass hysteria!"
The Hatter pauses and is met by Batman's silence yet again. Annoyed, the Hatter continues, "He's really quite remarkable, you know," the Hatter comments coolly as he pats the arms of the chair, "Even though he lost his muse when it comes to human anatomy after I placed him under my control, he can still perform an excellent March Hare." The Hatter winks as he rises from the seat, "Here, let me show you."
The chair then bends and folds, moves and churns into a dark haired caricature of a rabbit, wearing a red coat and loony expression. The Hatter is in awe, "Wonderful. No other word can do it justice. Can you imagine?" the Hatter questions as he takes a brief glimpse of the Batman, "A thespian of such quality, shunned? It's a crime. Still, there are plenty of other cities to try, aren't there?" he ruffles the top of the hare's head, "Plenty more chances at Wonderland…"
"You're looking very good," Batman mutters as best as possible, the drug permitting only limited speaking skills, "for a dead man."
"What?" the Hatter turns with a start. The Batman is still rooted to the spot so the Hatter smiles perversely, "Oh yes, my ill advised team-up with the Joker. Well, I got better."
"Ra's al Ghul," Batman sputters.
The Hatter's ears perk up at the sound of the name, "Yes, that's right. Mr. Rash-a-Goo, or something," the Hatter giggles, "never could get the name right. See, Mr. Rash had a problem which only I could properly solve. Mr. Rash had an elixir of immortality in his possession, so he had me ferreted out of my coffin and revived, and upon my reanimation I added to his elixir my mind numbing potion. The result was an army of near perfect, immortal and completely loyal slaves, just what he had ordered, no fuss, no muss. I, of course, appropriated all I could during my stay, including some of the elixir, and used my formidable talents to make sure I lived beyond the expiration of our agreement. After all, giant transmitters and grand schemes of revenge don't fund themselves. Upon returning to Gotham I secured the asylum and had Clayface inoculate Ms. Quinzel with the elixir during her hospital stay, knowing you'd investigate sooner or later, sending you on a chase for the White Rabbit while I completed my plans."
The Batman grins, "You've made one mistake, Tetch."
"Oh?" the Hatter marks with an innocuous look on his face.
"Dent."
"You had your White Rabbit, and the police had theirs," the Mad Hatter replies dryly, "He was a decoy, nothing more."
"He helped the police."
"Only briefly," the Hatter answers in a huff.
"He saved the Commissioner's life."
"A minor glitch," an irritated Hatter sneers, "I didn't really want the kill Gordon anyway."
"He was leading them here…"
The Mad Hatter screams, "Now really! That is too much! I have shown you courtesy and hospitality, the least you could do is shut-your-damned-mouth in regards to HIM! I understand the executed is to have a last request, but this is above and beyond! Dent? Dent was a…a constant burden, like you are! He wouldn't eat his tainted meals, he would always sleep with one eye open and he'd dissociate himself from the inmates as much as possible! It…it was uncanny, like he had a sixth sense telling him something was amiss, so I had the Penguin approach him, and when his guard was down the Riddler fixed him and I sent him away! AWAY I SAY! He wasn't to be trusted and I sent him AWAY!! AND THE FOOL STILL MANAGED TO REMOVE THE CHIP!!! He was insufferable, just as you are!" The Hatter feigns a fainting spell and Clayface catches him, becoming a comfortable chair in the process.
The Hatter takes a deep breath to calm himself as he reaches into his coat pocket, "It's quite liberating, being deceased, as you'll soon find out," the Hatter produces a small revolver from his pocket and aims it squarely at the Batman's skull, "Armour piercing. Now here we are…to paint the roses red…" and he begins to squeeze the trigger.
The gun explodes and at the last second Batman moves his head to one side and out of the bullet's path. He then drives forward and snatches the gun from the Hatter with one hand and smashes him in the face with the other before a second shot can be fired. The chair falls back and Clayface transforms into a slick slide leading through the door, which the stunned Mad Hatter glides upon thanks to the momentum of Batman's single blow. Once the Hatter is through Clayface immediately follows, slithering his form away and slamming the door shut behind him.
Batman takes a moment to ease his muscles back from the paralysis they had suffered, giving him a chance to remember Ivy's kiss. She could kill with a kiss, but this time she… she's… she's so…
He shakes his head to rouse his senses back. She must have transferred a portion of her immunity to him. How? He cannot fathom, but it's the only explanation.
He takes a long look at the gun in his hand and shudders before placing it into his utility belt. With a leap and a kick he smashes through the door his prey had passed, a hail of splinters announcing his arrival. The greeting is another dimly lit, sparsely furnished room.
"Where am I, Batman?" a voice like slime and ooze calls from nowhere and everywhere at once, echoing off the walls. Batman instinctively reaches for his utility belt as the creature continues, "Am I the chair? The mantle? Maybe I'm the rug you're standing on? Or the chandelier? What am I, Batman?"
Batman crouches down into a defensive stance.
"You'll never guess," the creature calls, and the entire room comes crashing down upon the caped crusader, enveloping him in an ever shrinking bubble of ooze. With a single fluid motion Batman draws forth an ice gun from his belt and cranks it to full as his clay tomb is sealed. Bracing himself, he grabs hold of the weapon with both hands and fires at the clay as it advances all about him. He does not budge, continuing the relentless assault as brown ooze begins to flow upon him. His hands, though insulated, start to feel the icy chill as frost begins to envelope them. His face, his entire body for that matter, could feel the chill build, but so could Clayface. Soon the creature is still and the Batman stops the onslaught. About the dark knight is clay with ice crystals jutting forth every which-way, making for a very fragile creature. With a mighty effort he pushes his legs forth, feeling the frozen clay crack under the pressure, and with the second effort it shatters into a cold shower, littering the room in fragments. He does not have the time to savour his victory, however, since his gloves are fused together in a large shroud of ice that's rock hard at the source. Batman lies down on his back and uses his legs to push the gloves off, inch by painful inch. Near frostbitten fingers soon emerge and he winces in pain at their sight. With a scowl on his face he takes the ice chunk his hands were trapped in and kicks it into the fire, dousing the flame. The feeling barely returned to his fingers he gingerly clasps the gun in his utility belt and looks about the room. There doesn't appear to be another exit in sight and no clues in regards to the Hatter's escape route. Nothing…save for a large looking glass lying adjacent to the far wall.
Batman scans the outline of the mirror, feeling as best he can its edges with his fingers, and comes to the conclusion that it is an entranceway. He taps it gently and listens to the depth of the sound that emanates.
"Not too deep," he muses as he looks about at Clayface's frozen remnants, "but likely a trap." Spying what he needs he grabs hold of a large, pointed fragment. Lifting it up he takes a few steps back and raises it high above his head, the pointed end aimed towards the mirror, "Through the looking glass, Alice." After taking a deep breath he hurls the projectile with all his might, smashing it into the mirror and shattering the edifice into millions of jagged shards.
Beyond the mirror the Mad Hatter was standing within a tiny abode next to a large, complex looking computer panel with wires leading out of a nearby window and up to the roof, and the neural transmitter. The Hatter was busily at work on his instruments, but upon hearing the nearby destruction he turns with a start. Batman rushes into the room before the Hatter has a chance to react and draws his gun forth from the utility belt, prompting a very frightened Hatter to whimper, "Don't…don't come any closer! I'm warning you!"
Batman takes the measure of the room and a grim smile forms upon his lips.
"I'm warning…warning you! I've reconfigured the system! They'll…they'll all perish immediately if you harm me! They'll…"
Batman merely raises his arm and unloads the gun into the computer. Sparks fly and pieces shatter as each slug hits home. The entire console flickers for a moment, then dies altogether. Batman then tosses the gun away and sneers, "You never were very good under pressure, Jervis."
The Hatter is beside himself, "What…what are you going to do?"
"I've always liked the Queen of Hearts," Batman mutters in his characteristic gravel like voice as he reaches into his utility belt.
The Hatter has only one response. He screams an ear piercing, gut wrenching, maddening scream and turns, leaping through the closed window behind him. Batman removes the batarang with line which he was reaching for and makes it to the edge before the final splinter of glass has fallen. It takes precious milliseconds for him to adjust his grip with his frozen fingers, and even more for his eye to correct for the rain swept air, so instead he listens to the Hatter's scream and lets the batarang fly. Guided by unknown forces of fate the weapon manages to enwrap itself about one of the Hatter's legs and Batman pulls it taunt. His fingers are still badly sore, however, and at best he can only slow the Hatters descent to the stone ground below. There is a sickening thud as bone strikes stone, knocking the Hatter senseless. Batman stares down and sees a man writhing in agony, but alive, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
"You couldn't know Jervis," he whispers, "I was given a new life…and I'm going to live it right…" and he's gone with a flash of lightning and a crackle of thunder…
…
Later that day, once the police had arisen from their stupor and reclaimed the asylum from its dazed denizens, the city of Gotham begins the arduous task of remaking itself once again. Within the cruiser where the Batman had left him, the Commissioner finds a note that fills in the details on the entire case, and on what may be the best way to proceed. Det. Bullock harrumphs at the site of it before being assigned to do exactly what the note entails, leaving the Commissioner alone to whisper a subtle, "Thank-you."
Out of the corner of his eye he manages to spy a familiar silhouette upon one of the rooftops before it vanishes from sight and he knows, deep down, that everything will be alright.
…
Eventually Batgirl decides to return to the cave beneath the ruins of Wayne Manor, having witnessed to her satisfaction Gotham's metamorphosis from chaos to calm. Her sleek motorcycle hums near silently as she navigates the roadway at full throttle. Her mind is awash with possible scenarios as she wonders what will be awaiting her. Her wound is still fresh and sore, and already she could feel the surgeon's handiwork begin to unravel. Whatever may be there, she hopes it is not conflict.
The cave lights burst on upon recognizing their newest master's arrival, and she winces in pain as she dismounts. She pauses for a moment and gauges her surroundings for anything amiss. There is nothing, not another soul in sight, not a sound save the flapping of leathery wings high above.
She accepts his decision and makes her way to the infirmary, hoping her doctoring skills are enough. Upon arriving she spies a tiny package on one of the tables and a note. The package contains a futuristic device used by the Justice League to painlessly cauterize wounds, and the note contains words that make her smile…
…
A scant week later and the weather has undergone a startling transformation. A stark cold front has moved into the city, bringing with it a change from rain to snow. Many of the city's citizens welcome the kiss of winter, seeing the clean, white layer as a blank slate, allowing them to forget recent misdeeds. For others it's a harbinger of how we are so susceptible to rapid, unwanted fluctuation, a reminder that no matter how hard we try to control it, life has a way of following its own path. The Commissioner of Gotham's police force would fall to the latter as he stands within the cemetery, staring at its most recent addition. While he is lost in thought, he is not so far-gone that he doesn't notice the approach of a heavy set man.
The Commissioner pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shoves his cold hands in his pocket, "Harvey."
The unshaven and unkempt man tips his hat, "Commish."
"What brings you by?"
Det. Harvey Bullock doesn't answer, choosing to bend down and drop a single flower upon the grave. He grunts as he rises, "Who's he next to?"
Gordon manages a weak smile, "His future wife."
They stand in silence for a few moments before Bullock offers a warm coffee. Gordon reluctantly accepts and they head off to a nearby diner, walking among the tombstones.
"We've got most of the chips out of the inmates, and the water systems been re-purified," Bullock remarks as they walk, "so there shouldn't be any more problems. I think things'll be back to normal inside another week."
"That's good," Gordon remarks, slightly distracted, "Good to hear."
Bullock stays silent for a moment before continuing, "The Hatter's still out of it though. Man the Bat must've clocked him…"
"Uh huh," Gordon nods, still distracted.
"Look, Commish," Bullock calls out, stopping mid-stride. Gordon turns to face him, "About the Bat. I just wanted to tell you to your face…" his mood softens as he searches for the words, "…you know…he was there, when it mattered …again… despite my bellyaching, he always does the job. And the kid he trained, Batgirl, if it weren't for her we'd be permanent residents here. Look…what I'm trying to say…what I'm getting at…I'm…"
Gordon gives a slight nod as he wraps an arm around the shoulder of his sulking officer, "I'm glad to hear it Bull, I really am. You know, I've only got a few good years left, and they've asked me to pick someone to groom for the job…"
END
Thanks for sticking around to the end. I hope you enjoyed the trip!