Bruce Wayne/Batman, Dick Grayson/Nightwing, Harvey Dent/Two-Face, Kathy Kane/Batwoman, and all other important characters belong to DC Comics/Time Warner.
I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.

Rated PG-13 : language; violence, some mature concepts.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

Duplicity

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Double Feature

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"In another daring robbery, former District Attorney Harvey Dent, along with five accomplices, struck the Doubletree Lane branch of Gotham National Bank late this afternoon, escaping with approximately half a million dollars."

Dick watched Bruce's face, noticing a muscle tighten in his jaw as the television announcer went on.

"This was the latest in a month-long crime spree by one of Gotham's most famous citizens, now one of its most infamous."

Bruce rose from his seat on the sofa in his study and turned away, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Inexplicably, the criminal who has announced that he now calls himself Two-Face has also made a sizable donation to a local children's fund, and returned the loot taken by another gang from an antiquities dealership, among other unexplained good deeds."

"Turn it off."

Obediently Dick picked up the remote and used it. Without the sounds of the television the room suddenly seemed very quiet - and very tense, as Bruce paced a few steps away and then stood, shoulders tight. Dick opened his mouth to say something... but what was there to say? How must it feel to know one of your closest friends has thrown his life away - turned against everything he once stood for - and made himself into an enemy? Maybe Bruce wasn't up to going against him... maybe...

"Doubletree Lane."

"Huh?" Dick said.

"The bank he robbed. That antiques shop is called Second Chances. The charity he gave money to, it helps reunite siblings separated by adoption..."

"Especially twins... I remember."

"Harvey said something about both of him - or two of him."

"You think it's a pattern?"

"I think he's become obsessed with the number two. With doubles, twins, whatever. Yes, it's a pattern, and as long as he follows it, it makes him predictable. And we can use it to our advantage."

"I hope so. He's smart, and he knows how the cops operate. They haven't done too well against him."

"No. But he doesn't know how I operate. I'll get him..."

Dick watched again as Bruce hunched his shoulders slightly, staring blindly at the floor, and then turned away, head bowed. "Look... maybe I could handle this on my own," he said.

"Why?" Bruce's face was deliberately blank when he looked up.

"Because Harvey's your friend, of course. Because this must be hard on you."

"He's gone to the other side. His choice, and he has to live with the consequences. As far as I'm concerned, he's no different from any other criminal now. All I care about is putting him behind bars."

Bruce's expression was still controlled and cold, but the way his hands balled into tense fists contradicted it.

"Whatever you say. But... I don't think we can blame Harvey completely, after what he's gone through. Maybe there's still some way to help him."

"Have to catch him first..." The harshness of Bruce's face deepened, his eyes shadowing with some unhappy emotion... and then the expression dropped away into that contained mask again. "How's it going with you and Barbara?" he asked.

Dick blinked at the abrupt change of subject. Apparently the topic of Harvey Dent was closed. "Uh... Okay, I guess." He shrugged. "I don't have much spare time. And she's busy a lot, too, starting a new job and stuff." He brightened a little. "But we're going to a movie tomorrow night."

Barbara. This would be the third time they had gone out in the last month. He would have liked it to be more often, but things hadn't exactly worked out the way he wanted. It really was hard to find the time, and Barbara didn't seem like she wanted anything more serious. How could he blame her, when he hadn't gone to college, had just started his first real job, and had no money or family? Not to mention how he had to hide so much of his life, and his thoughts, from her. At least she seemed to enjoy his company, and maybe things would be different tomorrow night.

"How about you and Kathy?" he asked.

Bruce shrugged, exactly the same way Dick had. "There's no 'me and Kathy,'" he said.

"Yeah, right. I can see the way she looks at you. And the way you look at her."

"Maybe I'd like to start seeing her again." He frowned. "But it didn't work the first time. Why should things be better now?"

"But she's Batwoman now. She's like us. I don't see what the problem is."

"She's not 'like us.' And she doesn't know about Batman. I'd still be keeping things from her."

Dick grinned. "Are you kidding? She knows."

"No, she doesn't."

"She's hinted at it a million times. She totally knows."

"Maybe she suspects."

"Yeah, right. Suspects. You know... I don't get it. Why don't you just tell her?"

Bruce glanced at him, but his eyes were distant. "She's Batwoman for different reasons than you or me. She's in it for the thrill, the excitement. She has no real commitment."

"I don't think you give her enough credit."

"Maybe. But... I can't tell her. It's not necessary... And she might take it the wrong way..."

"What, she might think you actually trust her?"

Bruce gave him another glance, this time sharp with barely concealed annoyance. "She might think it means I've accepted her being Batwoman. I have enough on my hands with one partner." He frowned. "It's late. You should be getting home."

Trying to conceal his reaction of mingled hurt and guilt, Dick stood up. "Okay. Uh... I guess I'll see you tomorrow, at the office."

"Good night."

"'Night."

He headed out, past a quick goodbye to Alfred, through the front door, and into the manicured front lawn, to pause for a moment, trying to relax in the quiet, the semi-darkness, and the cool night air combing through his hair. Bruce was so touchy sometimes... the most innocent thing could set him off. Not into anger, but into that chilly distance that Dick had learned to be wary of. Nothing could reach him when he got like that. It seemed to happen when they talked about Kathy. Or about Harvey, since his injury. In fact, about anyone he truly cared about, if the conversation got too personal. Briefly Dick wondered if he qualified as one of those people, before he zipped up his jacket and climbed onto his motorcycle.

=====

"You want to get popcorn? Soda? Candy?"

Barbara grinned at him. "Are you trying to fatten me up?"

"No! I wouldn't want that... I mean, you don't need to worry about... I mean..." Dick smiled. "I mean, you look great."

"Thanks." A hint of a blush seemed to color her cheeks, but maybe it was only the bright lights of the movie theatre lobby. "Anyway, maybe just a soda. I want to have some appetite left for dinner."

"You sure? It's a double feature." He leaned closer. "We're going to be in there for a very, very, very long time. Must make sure we have adequate supplies."

She laughed at his tone. "I think I can hold out. But you get whatever you want."

Ten minutes later, armed with popcorn (for Dick) and soda (for both) they were settling into their seats, just in time as the lights began to lower and the coming attractions began. Dick glanced at Barbara, her profile lit by the flicking glow, the red highlights of her hair almost invisible, as she smiled at the screen.

"Look, it's that new movie about Superman!"

Dick's watched a few seconds of it: a news clip followed by a scene with the characters in the movie. "It's not about Superman, it's about some kid who wants to be like him," he said.

"I know. But they actually got him to appear in the movie." She smiled again. "I definitely want to see it."

"He only comes on long enough to tell kids not to put on a cape and try flying... his idea of public service, I guess."

"I guess. Betcha Batman would never do something like that."

"No bet here." Dick almost laughed at the thought.

"Dad complains about him sometimes. Says he's a loose cannon. But I think deep down he trusts him."

"Yeah? Uh... what does he think of Nightwing?"

She shrugged. "Just grumbles about how every weirdo out there thinks they can put on a mask and run around beating people up."

As Dick was trying to decide if his other identity had just been insulted, the film stopped. Darkness and silence descended, broken by the restless rustling and whispers of an impatient audience. Dick took another mouthful of popcorn and then regretted it when he heard how loud his crunching sounded. "What the hell's going on?" he muttered after what felt like minutes. But that question was abruptly answered as the screen brightened again, not into a movie scene or an advertisement, but with an image that froze Dick in his seat.

A hideous face loomed over them, the scarring over half of it magnified into monstrosity as it filled the picture. A face divided down the middle into normality and distortion, but all of it cast into an expression of cruel determination. Hard eyes seemed to bore into each person as the theatre filled with gasps of shock and cries of fear.

"It's... it's Harvey Dent!" Barbara choked.

"Two-Face," Dick agreed grimly. He was already thinking fast. Had to contact Bruce and slip away from Barbara somehow. But he had to make sure she would be safe. Even as his fingers found the small text messaging cellphone he carried for emergencies and began to tap the buttons, the image before them moved and began to speak.

"I am Two-Face. You've all heard of me, so you know the wisest thing for all of you to do is cooperate. Please note my men at the front of the theatre, and observe that they are carrying machine guns. Other men will move down the aisles, collecting your valuables. Do not resist, and no one needs to be hurt."

Nothing he could do to stop it, not without getting shot. Dick and Barbara were towards the front of the first section Two-Face's men went through, and among the first to be approached. He handed over his cash to two hard-faced, armed men without comment, and gritted his teeth as Barbara removed a thin gold chain from her neck and gave it to them. But as soon as the thieves had moved on and no one was watching...

"Dick? Where are you going?" Barbara whispered.

Dick had slid to the floor, letting his seat fold up. "I'm going to try to get to a phone. Just stay put, they won't hurt you if you don't try anything."

For an instant she looked frightened, but then her face firmed with resolve. "I'll come with you."

"No!" he hissed. "Too dangerous."

"It's dangerous for you, too!"

"I can move faster on my own," he said with brutal honesty. "No time to argue. Stay here and be quiet." He softened it - he hoped - with a quick touch on her hand, and then began to crawl between the seats, heading away from where he could see the criminals working their way through the crowd. All he needed was a minute in a dark corner. Bruce would be on his way already, but he needed to slow them down - to find Harvey Dent, and maybe they could end this.

It seemed to take forever, but was probably less than a minute, before he slipped out of a small janitor's closet, now wearing black and midnight blue. Nightwing cast a quick glance over the theatre. Two-Face's men were close to being finished, and there had apparently been no trouble yet.

The immense and horrifying face on the screen was speaking again. "Give up your money and jewelry without protest. The more quickly you cooperate, the more quickly we can be out of here. Anyone calling the police will be severely punished."

Yes, they would want to get out as fast as possible, other people here had cellphones and some had certainly used them despite the threat; the cops would be arriving soon. Harvey. Where was he? Nightwing's eyes found a small door at the back, standing halfway open, narrow, shadowy stairs visible on the other side. What they were seeing on screen was a film, but someone had to be running the projector. It was a good place to start.

He ran up the stairs as quietly as he could, hoping Batman's lessons had sunk in, feeling his mouth get dry and his palms moisten with sweat as he saw light outlining a partially-open door at the top. What was it Bruce had said? The day you stop being afraid is the day you'll die... The way his heart was hammering right now, he'd probably live forever. He stopped, flattening himself against the stairwell wall. From the other side of the door there came the whirring sound of a film projector, and voices.

"You're some actor, boss. Shoulda been in Hollywood."

"Yes. Perhaps I could make horror movies. As the monster, of course." Nightwing recognized Harvey Dent's voice from the party.

The other, unfamiliar voice turned apologetic. "I didn't mean it like that."

"You fail to understand me, Joe. You see, I'm proud of the way I look. Of the way people look at me, the way I frighten them."

"If you say so."

"Come on, they're almost done down there. Let's go."

Nightwing drew back even farther, and then lunged as a man stepped through the doorway. He threw a punch, unable to see well enough in the darkened stairway, felt his fist connect and heard a grunt of pain. The man sagged back, a hand to his face. Nightwing braced himself as well as he could on the rail and side-kicked, knocking his opponent off-balance, sending him sliding off his feet and down a few steps.

The door was still open, the second man framed in the light from within, a small room half filled with mechanical equipment visible behind him. Nightwing swung around to face him, and stopped, hesitating. It was Two-Face, his grotesque features twisted in a grimace of rage. Even his clothing reflected the duality of his face; the suit he wore was neat and elegant on the right side, ripped, wrinkled, and frayed on the left.

They stared at each other. Nightwing took a step closer as Two-Face took one back. "Look, Dent, I don't want to hurt you," he began. "Just give up, and tell your men to surrender."

"Sorry, but I won't make it so easy for you."

"Batman and I want to help you. You're not a criminal, not really..."

"Too late. Too late for anyone to help. And too late for you."

His eyes moved, just enough to warn Nightwing. Stupid, he had time to think; he had let Two-Face distract him and forgotten about the man on the stairs. Now he spun, falling into a crouch, and heard the whistle of air as a weapon whirled over his head, barely missing him. A pipe, from the looks of it... he struck at the man's elbow with a hard chop, heard a gasp, and saw the pipe drop with a clatter as Two-Face dashed by, headed for the stairway.

"Sorry, pal, have to make this fast..." he growled, and leaned into a punch, driving his fist into his opponent's stomach. As the man doubled up, Nightwing kicked forward, sending him stumbling backwards, only to hit the wall of the tiny room. Surprisingly, he stayed on his feet and lunged forward, arms reaching out. Nightwing ducked under them, caught him around the waist, and with a lift and a twist slammed him into the wall again and let him fall. This time he stayed there.

Had to go after Two-Face... but a wave of shouts and screams from below brought Nightwing up short. It took only a step to reach the small window through which the film was being projected, and a moment to see a cloaked and shadowed figure moving rapidly across the theatre and down an aisle. It flew into a knot of Two-Face's men. There were cries of alarm, and then the thieves were falling away, one crashing over a row of seats, another landing on the floor on his face, the third lifted into the air before being thrown into the fourth. Batman had arrived.

By the time Nightwing reached the bottom of the stairs, it appeared to be all over. Two-Face's men lay strewn where Batman had left them, but a quick look around revealed no sign of Two-Face himself, or of Batman. Then there was no time to look as the sharp reports of gunfire echoed through the theatre, provoking more screams.

The cops... Nightwing ducked instinctively behind a seat as he saw blue uniforms run in, weapons at the ready. They found cover, scanned the area, and moved in, quickly surrounding the men on the floor. In moments they were busy with handcuffs and the usual warnings as the thieves were arrested. Nightwing watched, but there didn't seem to be anything more he could do - except slip back into that janitor's closet, change to Dick Grayson, and find Barbara.

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She was in the lobby, the beginnings of desperation in her eyes, when he spotted her. And then the smile that lit her face when she saw him, the relief he could see behind it, a relief that was at least close to what he felt at seeing her unharmed... it almost made the whole thing worth it.

"Are you all right?" they both said, almost simultaneously.

"I'm fine," Barbara said. "Where have you been? I was looking everywhere."

"I slipped out and found a phone. Then I tried to get back in, but they were watching, so I hid, and then the shooting started. What happened to you? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I just stayed where I was until the cops came, and then got under the seat, and then when it was over I came out to look for you." She glanced around, any trace of a smile gone. "One of the crooks got shot. And some guy who works for the theatre."

"Hope they'll be okay."

"Even the bad guy?"

"Even him. I heard Batman was here. Did you see him?"

"Just for a second." A sparkle came into her eyes, and her lips curved again. "He was incredible!"

"Did you see where he went?"

If she thought the question was odd, she didn't show it. "Harvey - I mean, Two-Face - ran out the side door. Batman went after him."

Dick cast a look at the door Barbara had indicated. But it was too late, they would both be long gone by now, and the police would want statements; he couldn't just leave. If Batman needed help, he'd call for it. Nothing he could do for now, except try to get out of here and get Barbara home as fast as possible. And then wait.

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TBC...