(Naturally, Batman is a product of DC Comics, Warner Bros and created by Bob Cane... you know, all the good disclaimer stuff. THANKS FOR READING!)
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CHAPTER SIX - ...to die for
"...call me down here to let me know when you leave," Bruce said into the speaker phone. "You're not doing this alone."
Catherine could hear his rapid-fire typing in the background through the phone. How he could hold a conversation and hack into a database simultaneously never ceased to amaze her. "It's a chocolate spree, Bruce. I'm sure the Obiken's are not planning on kidnapping me and making me a convert or anything."
"You give them far more credit than is due."
She grinned and looked back over the chapter outline she'd been maintaining for the novel. There was a lot of updating to do. "Well, instead of tailing us, why don't you just come with us?"
"No."
"Have it your way then," she replied. He's already slipping into his Batman persona, Catherine realized. There was no point in arguing this with him, seeing that. "I'll call you when she arrives."
"Thank you."
Bruce disconnected the call and turned back to the array of data displayed on the bank of computer monitors before him. Two of the eight were dedicated to information on the Obiken's; he was determined to know who they were, and what they were up to. The other six displayed police reports, court and psychiatric transcripts and profiles he'd compiled on a certain Matthew Hagen, also known as "Clayface."
His face had deepened into the scowl that Batman sported as he memorized Hagen's information. The media had had a field day with the actor's accident a year ago when he'd used experimental make up that had been toxic to his system. Hagen had been thought dead on arrival at Gotham General. In fact, that was what all the paperwork had said. It had been an elaborate cover-up, however, for Hagen to live a life of secluded madness with his new form and identity of Clayface.
Upstairs, Catherine continued to add detail to her chapter outline, fleshing it out for a potential publisher when the novel was complete. She had become so involved in her work again that when Alfred made his distinct "ahem" at the door to her office, Catherine screamed and nearly toppled out of her chair.
"Yes, Alfred?" she said wild-eyed.
"Miss Obiken has arrived and is waiting in the parlor," he stated.
"Oh! I'd almost forgotten about that. Thanks, Alfred." Before standing up, she reached for the phone and keyed in the extension to the Batcave.
"Here," came Batman's reply. Catherine knew just by the raspy tone of his voice that the transformation was complete.
"Kir is here and we're going out."
"Take your car," he said.
She closed her eyes. "You're going to be tracking me? How 'bout I just call you wherever we stop? Or better yet, why didn't you put the bug on me?"
Batman was quiet.
Damnit Bruce, this is ridiculous, she thought. Catherine left the irritation unvoiced, however.
"Later," she said and hung up.
Catherine stalked down the hall to the parlor, willing her annoyance with Bruce to dissipate. She smiled as she entered the room, watching Kir who stared up at a portrait of Bruce's parents.
"Evenin', Kir."
She turned and matched the smile. "Hi, Catherine. Amazing house."
"Ha - thanks. It's a pain to dust, believe me," she joked.
"I want chocolate that is to die for. Where can we get some?" Kir asked.
"Do you want it as a bar or in ice cream?"
"Ooooh. Woman after my own heart. Know anywhere that has both?"
Catherine grinned. "I think I can figure something out. Did you take a cab here?"
Kir shook her head. "No, Ben dropped me off."
Good, she thought. Make it easier to excuse why we'll take my car then. To Kir, she nodded. "Okay, well, we can take my car. That's no problem."
Obiken followed Wayne through the black and white marble halls of Wayne Manor to the garage. She took in all the details of the quiet opulence in silence, never remarking about the priceless affects. Catherine had to appreciate her reaction; it always made her uncomfortable talking about the money she had married into.
She was half-tempted to take the Navigator instead of her silver Jaguar, just to frustrate Bruce and making the tracking all the more difficult, but decided not to cause any problems in the end.
"Ready for some sweets?" she asked, pulling out of the iron gates.
"You bet I am."
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Catherine decided on an up-scale sweet shop a in one of the few quiet neighborhoods of Gotham. It was a little brown brick building with sepia awnings that hung over the sidewalk. Beneath them were two sets of patio furniture; one was occupied by a giggly teenage couple who each had a milkshake.
"They have the BEST here," she said to Kir.
Walking inside, both women were overwhelmed by the sweet smell of chocolate that filled the room. A large candy display was to the right while the ice cream stand was in the back center of the room. Kir went to the right while Catherine went straight for ice cream.
"Outside? Inside?" Catherine asked, referring to seating.
"Outside. It's a nice evening. The universe is smiling on us."
Catherine shrugged at that and followed her out to the sidewalk seating. The teenagers had left; Kir opted for the table and chairs that they'd vacated.
Unconsciously, Catherine noted the rooftops of the buildings across the street, searching for any movement in the shadows.
"Spot Batman or his Shadow out there?" Kir asked with a smile.
"Thought I saw him once," Catherine replied, "but it turned out to be a drunk instead."
Kir laughed.
Catherine was immediately grateful that she didn't pounce on the opportunity to philosophize on the difference between madmen in tights and drunken madmen on rooftops. "So," Catherine said, "how did you come to have your philosophy and religion?"
"I could show you all sorts of texts on the--"
"We're here talking," she said between bites of hard packed ice cream, "just tell me about it."
"Okay. I grew up outside of this country," Kir said after a moment, "where this belief system was already prevalent."
"Far East?"
"No, though their beliefs often tend to be similar." She smiled.
Catherine listened closely while Kir explained her past in relation to her beliefs and wondered minutely if the bug that Bruce had planted on her was also picking up their conversation. She knew that he was nearby, at the very least, watching them and reading their lips with binoculars. Knowing he was that close was a bit unnerving.
"So is this all about pacifism?" Catherine asked.
"Not really. We take a stand when that is the universe's and our shared will," she explained. "Otherwise though, we are able to let events take their course without our interference."
"So then why do you dog the Bat-Team?"
From the third floor empty apartment across the street from Catherine and Kir, Batman crouched, indeed reading their lips to monitor the conversation.
He tensed, interpreting Kir Obiken's response to be, "...because Batman and his partner disrupt universal balance by thinking they are Gods who can administer justice. Some things are supposed to happen the way they go. Why do they need to interfere in every potential learning opportunity?"
In his ear, the police scanner's chatter continued to buzz as the evening grew later in Gotham City. There was far more activity on the scanner than an hour earlier; it would be a busy night for Batman. He focused on the conversation and Catherine's safety while also noting any potential disasters via GCPD.
Catherine was asking Kir if it disrupted her own chi by worrying so much what the Bat-Team did. Batman allowed for a smile at that.
He didn't see Kir's reply to the comment however. His attention was diverted entirely to the message across the scanner, an all points bulletin on Clayface. Still taking in the details, Batman was already on the move, retreating through the spacious apartment toward the back fire escape. He activated the radio wired through his cowl that worked dually as a phone for occassions such as this.
Kir said, "You see what I mean?"
Catherine shrugged. "I can respect your opinion and all, but the point of view is just not one that I am... evolved enough for."
Her cell phone began to ring. Catherine made a face, pulled it from her purse and noted the number. It was Batman.
"'Scuse me for just a second, Kir. I have to take this."
She nodded graciously as Catherine moved down the sidewalk."
"What?" Phone calls from Batman needed no salutation.
"I'm on the move. Clayface. Be careful with her," came his reply.
"Will do. Be safe," Catherine said. She returned to the table, taking care to keep her expression bemused and relaxed.
"All ok?" Kir asked.
"Yep. Just Alfred reminding me of some tasks I have to remember to take care of tonight," she said with a slight roll to her eyes. Changing the subject again, Catherine said, "You know... don't take this the wrong way, but I was nervous about meeting tonight, Kir. Given the rough start we've had. I've had a good time tonight and am glad we could talk without devolving into an argument."
She smiled. "As am I, Catherine. You're not the snooty rich person the tabloids talk about at all."
Catherine's eyes widened.
"Joking! Joking!"
.
.
.
.
.
.
CHAPTER SIX - ...to die for
"...call me down here to let me know when you leave," Bruce said into the speaker phone. "You're not doing this alone."
Catherine could hear his rapid-fire typing in the background through the phone. How he could hold a conversation and hack into a database simultaneously never ceased to amaze her. "It's a chocolate spree, Bruce. I'm sure the Obiken's are not planning on kidnapping me and making me a convert or anything."
"You give them far more credit than is due."
She grinned and looked back over the chapter outline she'd been maintaining for the novel. There was a lot of updating to do. "Well, instead of tailing us, why don't you just come with us?"
"No."
"Have it your way then," she replied. He's already slipping into his Batman persona, Catherine realized. There was no point in arguing this with him, seeing that. "I'll call you when she arrives."
"Thank you."
Bruce disconnected the call and turned back to the array of data displayed on the bank of computer monitors before him. Two of the eight were dedicated to information on the Obiken's; he was determined to know who they were, and what they were up to. The other six displayed police reports, court and psychiatric transcripts and profiles he'd compiled on a certain Matthew Hagen, also known as "Clayface."
His face had deepened into the scowl that Batman sported as he memorized Hagen's information. The media had had a field day with the actor's accident a year ago when he'd used experimental make up that had been toxic to his system. Hagen had been thought dead on arrival at Gotham General. In fact, that was what all the paperwork had said. It had been an elaborate cover-up, however, for Hagen to live a life of secluded madness with his new form and identity of Clayface.
Upstairs, Catherine continued to add detail to her chapter outline, fleshing it out for a potential publisher when the novel was complete. She had become so involved in her work again that when Alfred made his distinct "ahem" at the door to her office, Catherine screamed and nearly toppled out of her chair.
"Yes, Alfred?" she said wild-eyed.
"Miss Obiken has arrived and is waiting in the parlor," he stated.
"Oh! I'd almost forgotten about that. Thanks, Alfred." Before standing up, she reached for the phone and keyed in the extension to the Batcave.
"Here," came Batman's reply. Catherine knew just by the raspy tone of his voice that the transformation was complete.
"Kir is here and we're going out."
"Take your car," he said.
She closed her eyes. "You're going to be tracking me? How 'bout I just call you wherever we stop? Or better yet, why didn't you put the bug on me?"
Batman was quiet.
Damnit Bruce, this is ridiculous, she thought. Catherine left the irritation unvoiced, however.
"Later," she said and hung up.
Catherine stalked down the hall to the parlor, willing her annoyance with Bruce to dissipate. She smiled as she entered the room, watching Kir who stared up at a portrait of Bruce's parents.
"Evenin', Kir."
She turned and matched the smile. "Hi, Catherine. Amazing house."
"Ha - thanks. It's a pain to dust, believe me," she joked.
"I want chocolate that is to die for. Where can we get some?" Kir asked.
"Do you want it as a bar or in ice cream?"
"Ooooh. Woman after my own heart. Know anywhere that has both?"
Catherine grinned. "I think I can figure something out. Did you take a cab here?"
Kir shook her head. "No, Ben dropped me off."
Good, she thought. Make it easier to excuse why we'll take my car then. To Kir, she nodded. "Okay, well, we can take my car. That's no problem."
Obiken followed Wayne through the black and white marble halls of Wayne Manor to the garage. She took in all the details of the quiet opulence in silence, never remarking about the priceless affects. Catherine had to appreciate her reaction; it always made her uncomfortable talking about the money she had married into.
She was half-tempted to take the Navigator instead of her silver Jaguar, just to frustrate Bruce and making the tracking all the more difficult, but decided not to cause any problems in the end.
"Ready for some sweets?" she asked, pulling out of the iron gates.
"You bet I am."
.
.
+++++
.
.
Catherine decided on an up-scale sweet shop a in one of the few quiet neighborhoods of Gotham. It was a little brown brick building with sepia awnings that hung over the sidewalk. Beneath them were two sets of patio furniture; one was occupied by a giggly teenage couple who each had a milkshake.
"They have the BEST here," she said to Kir.
Walking inside, both women were overwhelmed by the sweet smell of chocolate that filled the room. A large candy display was to the right while the ice cream stand was in the back center of the room. Kir went to the right while Catherine went straight for ice cream.
"Outside? Inside?" Catherine asked, referring to seating.
"Outside. It's a nice evening. The universe is smiling on us."
Catherine shrugged at that and followed her out to the sidewalk seating. The teenagers had left; Kir opted for the table and chairs that they'd vacated.
Unconsciously, Catherine noted the rooftops of the buildings across the street, searching for any movement in the shadows.
"Spot Batman or his Shadow out there?" Kir asked with a smile.
"Thought I saw him once," Catherine replied, "but it turned out to be a drunk instead."
Kir laughed.
Catherine was immediately grateful that she didn't pounce on the opportunity to philosophize on the difference between madmen in tights and drunken madmen on rooftops. "So," Catherine said, "how did you come to have your philosophy and religion?"
"I could show you all sorts of texts on the--"
"We're here talking," she said between bites of hard packed ice cream, "just tell me about it."
"Okay. I grew up outside of this country," Kir said after a moment, "where this belief system was already prevalent."
"Far East?"
"No, though their beliefs often tend to be similar." She smiled.
Catherine listened closely while Kir explained her past in relation to her beliefs and wondered minutely if the bug that Bruce had planted on her was also picking up their conversation. She knew that he was nearby, at the very least, watching them and reading their lips with binoculars. Knowing he was that close was a bit unnerving.
"So is this all about pacifism?" Catherine asked.
"Not really. We take a stand when that is the universe's and our shared will," she explained. "Otherwise though, we are able to let events take their course without our interference."
"So then why do you dog the Bat-Team?"
From the third floor empty apartment across the street from Catherine and Kir, Batman crouched, indeed reading their lips to monitor the conversation.
He tensed, interpreting Kir Obiken's response to be, "...because Batman and his partner disrupt universal balance by thinking they are Gods who can administer justice. Some things are supposed to happen the way they go. Why do they need to interfere in every potential learning opportunity?"
In his ear, the police scanner's chatter continued to buzz as the evening grew later in Gotham City. There was far more activity on the scanner than an hour earlier; it would be a busy night for Batman. He focused on the conversation and Catherine's safety while also noting any potential disasters via GCPD.
Catherine was asking Kir if it disrupted her own chi by worrying so much what the Bat-Team did. Batman allowed for a smile at that.
He didn't see Kir's reply to the comment however. His attention was diverted entirely to the message across the scanner, an all points bulletin on Clayface. Still taking in the details, Batman was already on the move, retreating through the spacious apartment toward the back fire escape. He activated the radio wired through his cowl that worked dually as a phone for occassions such as this.
Kir said, "You see what I mean?"
Catherine shrugged. "I can respect your opinion and all, but the point of view is just not one that I am... evolved enough for."
Her cell phone began to ring. Catherine made a face, pulled it from her purse and noted the number. It was Batman.
"'Scuse me for just a second, Kir. I have to take this."
She nodded graciously as Catherine moved down the sidewalk."
"What?" Phone calls from Batman needed no salutation.
"I'm on the move. Clayface. Be careful with her," came his reply.
"Will do. Be safe," Catherine said. She returned to the table, taking care to keep her expression bemused and relaxed.
"All ok?" Kir asked.
"Yep. Just Alfred reminding me of some tasks I have to remember to take care of tonight," she said with a slight roll to her eyes. Changing the subject again, Catherine said, "You know... don't take this the wrong way, but I was nervous about meeting tonight, Kir. Given the rough start we've had. I've had a good time tonight and am glad we could talk without devolving into an argument."
She smiled. "As am I, Catherine. You're not the snooty rich person the tabloids talk about at all."
Catherine's eyes widened.
"Joking! Joking!"