A/NI'm not entirely happy with the way this has come out, but I've run out of changes to make for the time being. As always, comments and criticism are welcome.


An Exercise in Probability

The night was warm and windless, the city streets unusually bright as light from the thousands of streetlamps, businesses and houses of Jump City reflected off the low-lying clouds. The light streamed through the dusty warehouse windows, puddles of illumination at odds with the shadows more befitting a place such as this. Shadows that, his nascent sixth sense warned him, were suddenly a lot more occupied than they were mere seconds ago.

Slade allowed himself a small smile as he carefully fixed his new mask in place, checking the fit and the strength of the clasps with clever fingers. Only when he was sure that it was secure did he turn around to look into a patch of darkness that looked, even on close examination, no different to any other.

"I can see why you took the boy on," he said conversationally. "Determined. Dedicated. Gifted. Selfless. A natural like that comes along only once in a teacher's lifetime. In a few years, why, he might even be better than you're purported to be."

No reply came from the shadows. Then again he wasn't really expecting one.

Slade turned back to his impromptu workspace – a couple of waist-high wooden crates serving as a bench and an assortment of tools from the emergency cache located here – and resumed his methodical examination of the rest of his equipment. It was a calculated risk, exposing himself in this manner, but he was willing to bet that his augmented reaction time would suffice to keep his skin intact should an attack come from that quarter. From any quarter, for that matter.

Besides, if a sneak attack was on the cards, it would have happened by now, indeed, would have happened before he'd had a chance to fully register the presence. Talking, not fighting was what was wanted, at least for now. Slade had no problem with this.

"I can also see why you went your separate ways," he continued in the same, conversational tone. "He's rebellious, determined to prove himself. Ready to assume more responsibility, but not truly ready to become a full partner yet. Unfortunately, he also hasn't quite grown out of his temper. Another couple of years, perhaps the deaths of one or two of his friends and he'll even out."

Again, no reply came to his implied threat, nor was one expected. Back still to the shadows, Slade continued to work, carefully checking the condition of a handful of flash-bangs before slipping them into a pouch on his utility belt.

"I have to admit that I wasn't entirely sure if you were going to grace me with your company so soon. However, I doubt our mutual protégé would take kindly to your presence here. He'd probably think you didn't respect him. Teenagers do have such fragile egos."

He finished loading the belt and, with a practiced hand, ran through a diagnostic sequence on his wrist computer. Satisfied that everything was as good as it could be made before he reached a more permanent headquarters, he packed the tools back in their small satchel.

"Well, much as I'd love to stay and continue our chat, it's really time I should be going. I've got a base to rebuild and a city to conquer after all," he said, finally turning back to face that one particular patch of darkness. "Care to try to stop me?"

There was a slight rustle of cloth, a minute scrape of boot and clink of metal. Concentrating, Slade could just make out a slightly darker shadow within a shadow moving towards him with almost unnatural stealth.

"That's Robin's job," a harsh voice said, barely more than a whisper but one that carried across the room.

Slade smiled.

"Then I hope you've enjoyed our chat as much as I have. Until next time. Ta-ta."

Still smiling behind the mask, Slade turned his back once more and calmly walked out of the warehouse, a free man.


The attack, when it came ten minutes later in an alley over a mile away, was dirty, underhanded and brutal. It wasn't, however, unpredicted. Robin was too much of a boy scout at heart for such deceit as he'd shown to have come naturally. It had to be taught, mercilessly trained into him by someone to whom it did come like breathing.

Study the Bat through the boy. Such a remarkably simple, yet profound idea. And already he'd learned so very much from Robin's brief stint as his apprentice. Tactics, training, conditioning, mentality; a true wealth of information. He'd be examining the particulars for months to come.

It was a comforting thought as he splinted shattered fingers and staunched flowing wounds. Let the Bat think of him as a training exercise for the Boy Wonder. All that really mattered was that the Bat could be predicted, and that what could be predicted could be beaten. Would be beaten.

Slade hummed a nameless tune to himself and smiled into the darkness.

Life, such as it was, was grand.