Title: Night of Knights (2/?)
Author: Lord Maedhros
Rating: R (just to be safe)
Fandom: Gargoyles/ Batman Crossover
Summary: Batman/Gargoyles crossover. Goliath will do anything for Elisa's safety, but strengths become liabilities when one loses control. . . something the Joker is adept at exploiting.
Feedback: Any you are willing to provide would be very much appreciated
Archive: Anywhere, just tell me first
Genre: Action/Adventure
Disclaimer: All related characters are the property of Disney/ DC Comics. They are NOT my characters (as cool as that would be), nor are they being used for profit of any kind. As always, hats off to Bob Kane and Bill Finger, the immortal creators of Batman.
Warnings: Violence; maybe some spoilers but just in the general sense, nothing particular
Author's notes: I am a confirmed Batman freak, and reading Gargoyles fan fiction (which I started doing last year) got me to thinking of how cool it might be to see the two together. A good deal of my Gargoyles background is fanfic based, but any relevant Batman history or character background is based on the comics, not TV or movie-verse.
* * = thoughts
Chapter 2: In Too Deep
*He* was on the loose again. The Joker had escaped from Arkham Asylum for the thousandth time, and he had to be stopped. It was as simple as that.
That's what Tim's boss had been telling him every night, for the past two weeks. Well, sort of his boss. Tim thought of him as a superior, but the older man considered him to be more of a partner than a subordinate.
Tim Drake's night job entailed patrolling Gotham's streets as Robin, the Boy Wonder, and his boss was none other than the legendary Batman.
Robin fired his grapnel, felt the satisfying reverberation through his gloved hand as the strong monofilament line caught on the corner of a nearby building. He calculated the angle in his head, and then jumped.
Tim plummeted, in free fall for a fraction of a second, then the line went taut and he began swinging through the night sky. He loved that feeling; the rush of air and illusion of weightlessness that came only with flight. His momentum began to die just as he reached his destination, the roof of the Gotham police station. He swooped up, over the lip of the roof, and landed easily on the tarred surface, one hand still on the line. Commissioner Gordon was waiting, the Bat-signal burning bright behind him.
"You're alone? Where's Batman?" the commissioner asked him upon landing. Gordon seemed agitated, pacing back and forth on the roof.
"Evening, Commissioner," Robin greeted him. The aging police commissioner of Gotham City had been allied with the Batman for far longer than Tim had, even longer than Robin had. Tim had a lot of respect for Gordon, but he did not like being thought of as a second string sidekick.
"Batman's still out searching the city. I was with him when we saw the signal, so he sent me here and kept going," he answered. "With all due respect, I'm not second best, Commissioner. He wouldn't have sent me if he didn't think I could handle whatever it is."
"I suppose you're right. It's not crucial that Batman hear this from me," Gordon said. "But it is crucial that he hear it. This problem with the Joker has escalated," Gordon sighed wearily. "It's become a hostage situation. He and his gang abducted an off duty police officer in her hotel room last night." Gordon handed Robin a file. "Detective Elisa Maza, NYPD. No word yet on what the Joker wants. She was in Gotham to take some vacation time," he continued. "Some vacation. Assuming she's still alive, your mentor might want to hear about it."
"Thanks, Commissioner. I'll make sure he gets the message," Robin said, turning to go. He tucked the file into his boot, picked up his line off the roof, and took a running leap, straight over the edge and into open air. Robin headed for the clock tower of Gotham, to get in touch with Barbara. Better known as Oracle, she was technical support for the Bat-crew, with connections to virtually every police force and costumed hero in the world. Babs could contact Dick in Bludhaven, and Tim thought it would be best to call up as much muscle as they could get for this one. Nightwing was a useful guy to have around where the Joker was involved.
* * * * *
Back in New York, Goliath paced the roof of the clock tower occupied by the Manhattan Clan's Gargoyles, his tail twitching of it own accord with nervous energy. The stone exterior of the tower bore deep claw impressions, mute witness to the warrior's frustration. He had put Lexington on monitor duty, stationing the tiny Gargoyle in the main room of the tower, waiting for a communication of any kind from Elisa.
"Anything yet?" he called inside.
"Nothing," Lex replied. He understood how Goliath felt. Lexington was worried about Elisa too, but that didn't make Goliath's nervousness any easier to take. Elisa had been gone for a week now, out of communication for four days. The small Gargoyle had been firmly stationed inside the tower for three, since he was the only one who understood how to use the e-mail program on the computer. Small flakes of stone littered the room, as Lexington's evening awakenings had been taking place there for those past three nights. Bronx, loyal to a fault, had stayed in with him virtually the whole time. The stone chips from the Gargoyle's watchbeast added to the mess in the room, but Lex was grateful for the company.
"How long has it been?" Goliath's voice came again.
"Four days," he replied.
"That settles it," Goliath finally said. He was standing in the doorway. "Can that . . . thing make a map of the streets for me?"
"Well, sure, but you know the city as well as the rest of us . . ."
"Not this city, Lex," Goliath said. "I'm going to Gotham."
"Shouldn't we go with you?" The smaller Gargoyle asked him. "You might need some support."
"Thank you, friend, but someone must stay here." Goliath replied. "New York still has it's own problems."
Lex did as he was bid, and Goliath took off alone, headed north. The massive Gargoyle had made up his mind. He would find Elisa, and take down whoever had hurt her in the most painful manner possible. His eyes flashed white at the thought, and he bared his teeth to the cold wind. He landed as quietly as possible atop an express passenger train bound for Gotham, caped his massive wings about his shoulders, and settled in for the ride.
* * * * *
Elisa awoke slowly, conscious thought reluctant to return to her. She could see nothing, but whether her eyes were still closed, or possibly the room was just very dark, she could not yet tell. There was an oppressive silence, the kind of utter lack of sound that simply did not exist in a city the size of Gotham. She was sitting up in a chair, to which she was securely bound hands, feet, and torso. Her jacket, shoes, and gun belt were gone, and her clothes felt slightly out of place, sitting awkwardly on her body. It was cold in the room, especially since all she had on was her jeans and her short-sleeved shirt. Elisa could taste the chloroform in her mouth, and the burning in her nostrils indicated other chemicals, as well. She could also feel a stinging pain in her right forearm, three inches up from the wrist.
*He bit me!* She thought. *That lunatic bit me!*
Regaining herself little by little, Elisa analyzed her situation, putting together what had happened to her. She began to list events, quietly muttering each one to herself.
"I fought the Joker," she began. "I ran, met his gang, and they kidnapped me with chloroform. I'm tied up, and my weapons are gone. I . . ." Elisa thought about her clothes. "I was stripped naked, searched, and then dressed again, all my weapons removed," she finished. With a concentrated effort, Elisa lifted her head, and opened her eyes.
The room was not completely dark, as Elisa had thought at first. Dim, yes, but those were hardly the same thing. She scanned the room, apparently just the basement to an old building. Her eyes rested on a spot of white standing out against the dark background. Still dazed, it took Elisa a moment to realize what it was.
Joker just smiled, looking at Elisa. He was perfectly still, not moving at all, and it seemed like he must have been standing like that for at least the past several minutes. Elisa began to wonder if he wasn't just some hideous mannequin, when he burst out talking.
"Wakey-wakey, my pretty-pretty!" he beamed. "Lest you forget, let me fill you in. We were playing 'Cops and Murderers'. You lost. Do you know what that means?" In an instant, Joker's smile went from playful and innocent to hard, cold, and evil. Elisa didn't speak.
"I take it by your stunned silence that you do," he continued, nodding sagely and pursing his lips mockingly. "Oh well, then, no time like the present!" Out of nowhere, Joker produced a broad, seven-inch knife with a cruelly serrated back. "Sayonara, sweetheart!" he called out, and hurled the knife full force, straight at Elisa's chest.
Elisa closed her eyes out of reflex, letting out a high, short scream as she saw Joker release the knife. In the fraction of a second that it took to reach her, a small circle of plywood sprung upright on its stand, shielding Elisa's abdomen. The wicked-looking blade lodged into the very top of the shield, stopping just short of skewering the detective. Elisa looked down, and gaped at the knife. It had penetrated the shield to the hilt, sticking there with the serrated back of the blade completely exposed. A few millimeters higher, and she doubted it would have stopped at all. As it was, a tiny rip in the fabric of her shirt, just below her breastbone, and the miniscule trickle of warm fluid staining it from beneath told Elisa everything she needed to know about how closely he had cut his little practical joke.
Joker laughed hysterically for the next minute or so. He ran to the nearest wall, returning with tears in his eyes and several Polaroid shots of Elisa, mouth open in a terrified scream. He showed the pictures to Elisa, all from different angles, giggling helplessly and pointing to her face in each one. Elisa, still too stunned to speak, remained frozen. Joker slapped her hard on the back, sending the tip of the knife into her chest another half centimeter. She gasped audibly, eyes bugging out.
"Oops! Here, let me get that," he said. He yanked the knife free, and kicked over the small wooden stand. He tossed the knife casually over his shoulder. By accident or design, it landed with a soft *thunk* in the edge of a table. "There," Joker said. "That's better, isn't it?"
Elisa finally found her voice. "S-so you're not going to k-kill me?" she managed to stammer.
Joker erupted into laughter again. "Wheee-ha-ha haaa!!" he exploded. "That's a good one! Hee hee! Silly! Of course I'm going to kill you!" Elisa's face went ashen. "Trouble is, I gotta make it good, you see. New York police detectives don't just come knocking on my door every day, you know. Shooting, stabbing, bludgeoning, they're all so . . .so *ordinary*. So mundane! Where's the drama? It's embarrassing, really. No imagination! No flair!" he paused, then continued his monologue, shaking his finger at Elisa and managing to sound like an old man ranting about 'the good old days'. "You know what they need to re-instate? Drawing and quartering. Stretching someone in four directions, and subsequently cutting them apart. The Church used to have all the neatest little gadgets and doo-dads." Elisa shuddered slightly, catching Joker's insinuation a moment before he said it, perking up as though the idea had just occurred to him. "Half a mo; maybe you could be the poster girl for that! Think of it, 'New York detective drawn and quartered: State of Texas to re-instate as method of execution.' Yes! It's got style! It's got panache! It's reality TV at it's BEST!!" Switching gears entirely, he straightened and addressed Elisa. "Sleep well, detective." Joker bowed courteously, then skipped from the room, laughing and singing to himself as he went.
Elisa watched him go past her in stunned silence, heard the steel door clang shut behind him. Blinking furiously, she fought panic. It was a hard battle, and it took Elisa all of the next ten minutes just to stop shaking. In the end, she won, bringing her thoughts under control. Elisa scanned the room, looking for anything she could use to free herself.
To say the room was sparsely furnished would have been an understatement. There was nothing there, just the bare cement walls, a few vertical girders acting as pillars, the chair she was tied to, and the small table in the corner . . . with the knife still stuck in it.
The very blade that had nearly caused Elisa to wet herself with fear just minutes earlier now shone like a beacon of hope in the dim room. Encouraged now that she had a goal, Elisa began shifting her weight, inching closer to freedom.
tbc . . .
Author: Lord Maedhros
Rating: R (just to be safe)
Fandom: Gargoyles/ Batman Crossover
Summary: Batman/Gargoyles crossover. Goliath will do anything for Elisa's safety, but strengths become liabilities when one loses control. . . something the Joker is adept at exploiting.
Feedback: Any you are willing to provide would be very much appreciated
Archive: Anywhere, just tell me first
Genre: Action/Adventure
Disclaimer: All related characters are the property of Disney/ DC Comics. They are NOT my characters (as cool as that would be), nor are they being used for profit of any kind. As always, hats off to Bob Kane and Bill Finger, the immortal creators of Batman.
Warnings: Violence; maybe some spoilers but just in the general sense, nothing particular
Author's notes: I am a confirmed Batman freak, and reading Gargoyles fan fiction (which I started doing last year) got me to thinking of how cool it might be to see the two together. A good deal of my Gargoyles background is fanfic based, but any relevant Batman history or character background is based on the comics, not TV or movie-verse.
* * = thoughts
Chapter 2: In Too Deep
*He* was on the loose again. The Joker had escaped from Arkham Asylum for the thousandth time, and he had to be stopped. It was as simple as that.
That's what Tim's boss had been telling him every night, for the past two weeks. Well, sort of his boss. Tim thought of him as a superior, but the older man considered him to be more of a partner than a subordinate.
Tim Drake's night job entailed patrolling Gotham's streets as Robin, the Boy Wonder, and his boss was none other than the legendary Batman.
Robin fired his grapnel, felt the satisfying reverberation through his gloved hand as the strong monofilament line caught on the corner of a nearby building. He calculated the angle in his head, and then jumped.
Tim plummeted, in free fall for a fraction of a second, then the line went taut and he began swinging through the night sky. He loved that feeling; the rush of air and illusion of weightlessness that came only with flight. His momentum began to die just as he reached his destination, the roof of the Gotham police station. He swooped up, over the lip of the roof, and landed easily on the tarred surface, one hand still on the line. Commissioner Gordon was waiting, the Bat-signal burning bright behind him.
"You're alone? Where's Batman?" the commissioner asked him upon landing. Gordon seemed agitated, pacing back and forth on the roof.
"Evening, Commissioner," Robin greeted him. The aging police commissioner of Gotham City had been allied with the Batman for far longer than Tim had, even longer than Robin had. Tim had a lot of respect for Gordon, but he did not like being thought of as a second string sidekick.
"Batman's still out searching the city. I was with him when we saw the signal, so he sent me here and kept going," he answered. "With all due respect, I'm not second best, Commissioner. He wouldn't have sent me if he didn't think I could handle whatever it is."
"I suppose you're right. It's not crucial that Batman hear this from me," Gordon said. "But it is crucial that he hear it. This problem with the Joker has escalated," Gordon sighed wearily. "It's become a hostage situation. He and his gang abducted an off duty police officer in her hotel room last night." Gordon handed Robin a file. "Detective Elisa Maza, NYPD. No word yet on what the Joker wants. She was in Gotham to take some vacation time," he continued. "Some vacation. Assuming she's still alive, your mentor might want to hear about it."
"Thanks, Commissioner. I'll make sure he gets the message," Robin said, turning to go. He tucked the file into his boot, picked up his line off the roof, and took a running leap, straight over the edge and into open air. Robin headed for the clock tower of Gotham, to get in touch with Barbara. Better known as Oracle, she was technical support for the Bat-crew, with connections to virtually every police force and costumed hero in the world. Babs could contact Dick in Bludhaven, and Tim thought it would be best to call up as much muscle as they could get for this one. Nightwing was a useful guy to have around where the Joker was involved.
* * * * *
Back in New York, Goliath paced the roof of the clock tower occupied by the Manhattan Clan's Gargoyles, his tail twitching of it own accord with nervous energy. The stone exterior of the tower bore deep claw impressions, mute witness to the warrior's frustration. He had put Lexington on monitor duty, stationing the tiny Gargoyle in the main room of the tower, waiting for a communication of any kind from Elisa.
"Anything yet?" he called inside.
"Nothing," Lex replied. He understood how Goliath felt. Lexington was worried about Elisa too, but that didn't make Goliath's nervousness any easier to take. Elisa had been gone for a week now, out of communication for four days. The small Gargoyle had been firmly stationed inside the tower for three, since he was the only one who understood how to use the e-mail program on the computer. Small flakes of stone littered the room, as Lexington's evening awakenings had been taking place there for those past three nights. Bronx, loyal to a fault, had stayed in with him virtually the whole time. The stone chips from the Gargoyle's watchbeast added to the mess in the room, but Lex was grateful for the company.
"How long has it been?" Goliath's voice came again.
"Four days," he replied.
"That settles it," Goliath finally said. He was standing in the doorway. "Can that . . . thing make a map of the streets for me?"
"Well, sure, but you know the city as well as the rest of us . . ."
"Not this city, Lex," Goliath said. "I'm going to Gotham."
"Shouldn't we go with you?" The smaller Gargoyle asked him. "You might need some support."
"Thank you, friend, but someone must stay here." Goliath replied. "New York still has it's own problems."
Lex did as he was bid, and Goliath took off alone, headed north. The massive Gargoyle had made up his mind. He would find Elisa, and take down whoever had hurt her in the most painful manner possible. His eyes flashed white at the thought, and he bared his teeth to the cold wind. He landed as quietly as possible atop an express passenger train bound for Gotham, caped his massive wings about his shoulders, and settled in for the ride.
* * * * *
Elisa awoke slowly, conscious thought reluctant to return to her. She could see nothing, but whether her eyes were still closed, or possibly the room was just very dark, she could not yet tell. There was an oppressive silence, the kind of utter lack of sound that simply did not exist in a city the size of Gotham. She was sitting up in a chair, to which she was securely bound hands, feet, and torso. Her jacket, shoes, and gun belt were gone, and her clothes felt slightly out of place, sitting awkwardly on her body. It was cold in the room, especially since all she had on was her jeans and her short-sleeved shirt. Elisa could taste the chloroform in her mouth, and the burning in her nostrils indicated other chemicals, as well. She could also feel a stinging pain in her right forearm, three inches up from the wrist.
*He bit me!* She thought. *That lunatic bit me!*
Regaining herself little by little, Elisa analyzed her situation, putting together what had happened to her. She began to list events, quietly muttering each one to herself.
"I fought the Joker," she began. "I ran, met his gang, and they kidnapped me with chloroform. I'm tied up, and my weapons are gone. I . . ." Elisa thought about her clothes. "I was stripped naked, searched, and then dressed again, all my weapons removed," she finished. With a concentrated effort, Elisa lifted her head, and opened her eyes.
The room was not completely dark, as Elisa had thought at first. Dim, yes, but those were hardly the same thing. She scanned the room, apparently just the basement to an old building. Her eyes rested on a spot of white standing out against the dark background. Still dazed, it took Elisa a moment to realize what it was.
Joker just smiled, looking at Elisa. He was perfectly still, not moving at all, and it seemed like he must have been standing like that for at least the past several minutes. Elisa began to wonder if he wasn't just some hideous mannequin, when he burst out talking.
"Wakey-wakey, my pretty-pretty!" he beamed. "Lest you forget, let me fill you in. We were playing 'Cops and Murderers'. You lost. Do you know what that means?" In an instant, Joker's smile went from playful and innocent to hard, cold, and evil. Elisa didn't speak.
"I take it by your stunned silence that you do," he continued, nodding sagely and pursing his lips mockingly. "Oh well, then, no time like the present!" Out of nowhere, Joker produced a broad, seven-inch knife with a cruelly serrated back. "Sayonara, sweetheart!" he called out, and hurled the knife full force, straight at Elisa's chest.
Elisa closed her eyes out of reflex, letting out a high, short scream as she saw Joker release the knife. In the fraction of a second that it took to reach her, a small circle of plywood sprung upright on its stand, shielding Elisa's abdomen. The wicked-looking blade lodged into the very top of the shield, stopping just short of skewering the detective. Elisa looked down, and gaped at the knife. It had penetrated the shield to the hilt, sticking there with the serrated back of the blade completely exposed. A few millimeters higher, and she doubted it would have stopped at all. As it was, a tiny rip in the fabric of her shirt, just below her breastbone, and the miniscule trickle of warm fluid staining it from beneath told Elisa everything she needed to know about how closely he had cut his little practical joke.
Joker laughed hysterically for the next minute or so. He ran to the nearest wall, returning with tears in his eyes and several Polaroid shots of Elisa, mouth open in a terrified scream. He showed the pictures to Elisa, all from different angles, giggling helplessly and pointing to her face in each one. Elisa, still too stunned to speak, remained frozen. Joker slapped her hard on the back, sending the tip of the knife into her chest another half centimeter. She gasped audibly, eyes bugging out.
"Oops! Here, let me get that," he said. He yanked the knife free, and kicked over the small wooden stand. He tossed the knife casually over his shoulder. By accident or design, it landed with a soft *thunk* in the edge of a table. "There," Joker said. "That's better, isn't it?"
Elisa finally found her voice. "S-so you're not going to k-kill me?" she managed to stammer.
Joker erupted into laughter again. "Wheee-ha-ha haaa!!" he exploded. "That's a good one! Hee hee! Silly! Of course I'm going to kill you!" Elisa's face went ashen. "Trouble is, I gotta make it good, you see. New York police detectives don't just come knocking on my door every day, you know. Shooting, stabbing, bludgeoning, they're all so . . .so *ordinary*. So mundane! Where's the drama? It's embarrassing, really. No imagination! No flair!" he paused, then continued his monologue, shaking his finger at Elisa and managing to sound like an old man ranting about 'the good old days'. "You know what they need to re-instate? Drawing and quartering. Stretching someone in four directions, and subsequently cutting them apart. The Church used to have all the neatest little gadgets and doo-dads." Elisa shuddered slightly, catching Joker's insinuation a moment before he said it, perking up as though the idea had just occurred to him. "Half a mo; maybe you could be the poster girl for that! Think of it, 'New York detective drawn and quartered: State of Texas to re-instate as method of execution.' Yes! It's got style! It's got panache! It's reality TV at it's BEST!!" Switching gears entirely, he straightened and addressed Elisa. "Sleep well, detective." Joker bowed courteously, then skipped from the room, laughing and singing to himself as he went.
Elisa watched him go past her in stunned silence, heard the steel door clang shut behind him. Blinking furiously, she fought panic. It was a hard battle, and it took Elisa all of the next ten minutes just to stop shaking. In the end, she won, bringing her thoughts under control. Elisa scanned the room, looking for anything she could use to free herself.
To say the room was sparsely furnished would have been an understatement. There was nothing there, just the bare cement walls, a few vertical girders acting as pillars, the chair she was tied to, and the small table in the corner . . . with the knife still stuck in it.
The very blade that had nearly caused Elisa to wet herself with fear just minutes earlier now shone like a beacon of hope in the dim room. Encouraged now that she had a goal, Elisa began shifting her weight, inching closer to freedom.
tbc . . .