This was meant for "Lab Rat". Batman was coming to retrieve some equipment that the police had confiscated in order to treat Robin, and was asked to stay and "help" Detective Harlow while he interrogated a couple of perps at the scene of a crime. Harlow doesn't actually need the help, but isn't above using the Dark Knight as a means of intimidation.

I realized after writing this, that we really didn't need it. The story wasn't about Harlow, and this bit wasn't furthering the plot, so out it went. But that wasn't to say I didn't like it a LOT. I'm just happy that I have an excuse to publish it somewhere!

Lab Rat - "Don't Fear The Reaper"

Warnings: Crime Scene . . . Rating "T" (actually it is pretty mild, but, you know, just in case . . .)


"I will return the visor and earphones to you in another couple of days, detective. I thank you for all your help," Batman told Detective Harlow.

They were standing outside of a convenience store surrounded by police, ambulances, and a coroner's vehicle. It was the scene of an armed robbery gone wrong. Three people were dead: the clerk, a teenager who had been out too late, and a middle-aged man. Two twenty-somethings were standing near one of the squad cars with their hands cuffed behind their backs; a man and a woman. The man was defiant, the woman frightened and unsure.

"That's good to know. I'm sorry that nothing new has turned up on the Scarecrow or that Lydia woman you told me about, despite that composite photo you sent to me. We're still looking, however," he said, as he strolled over to the couple.

The gun used in the multiple shooting looked to have only one set of prints on them. Forensics claimed they belonged to the woman. There were traces of gunpowder on her hands and clothes, but so was there on the man. The man, waving his rights, claimed his girlfriend was holding the gun while he collected the cash, but had panicked when the older man had accidentally walked into the holdup. She had shot him, and then the clerk when he dove to hit the silent alarm, and then the kid when he wouldn't stop screaming.

The woman admitted that the story her boyfriend gave the police was correct. Open and shut case, right? Harlow wasn't so convinced.

"If you wouldn't mind, Batman, I could use your help as well," he said.

Curious, Batman followed the man. "Of course, detective," he said. "What is it you wish me to do?"

Harlow looked back at the Bat that seemed to tower over his five-foot, ten-inch frame. "Just stand there and look pretty," he grinned. The smile slide off of his face as if it had never existed by the time he faced forward once more.

Harlow had been watching the couple for some time. He had let another officer lead the questioning when the man had started talking. Harlow had remained just within easy listening distance and observed. Now, after his brief conversation with Batman about the Scarecrow and the equipment he had 'borrowed' from evidence, he was ready to confront the couple. Might as well take advantage of any useful tools that presented themselves, he thought, feeling the grim presence at his back.

The couple noticed them now. Eyes widened and jaws dropped. Out here in the suburbs, criminals and lowlifes didn't get the opportunity to have face-to-face encounters with the great, black Bat of Gotham. Batman wasn't the deterrent in these parts as he was in the city itself, or so the criminals here liked to think. Apparently, all that bravado was a bunch of bunk, as the couple unconsciously took a step closer to one another.

"What's your names," Harlow asked. It was unnecessary. He had overheard the information given to the arresting officer.

The man took the lead as he had ever since the police had arrived on the scene, and the couple had given themselves up. The first officers on the scene had told him that the couple hadn't tried to run, but were arguing when they had pulled into the parking lot. Being in the neighborhood, the officers had had excellent response time, arriving within two minutes of the shooting's call-in.

"People call me Reaper," the man said.

Reaper's voice wasn't quite as boisterous as it had been previously; the change was miniscule, however. One had to be listening for it to notice. Harlow had been listening.

Still sure of himself, but nervous now, Harlow thought.

"Reaper, huh? Is that the name your mama wrote on your birth certificate, Mr. Reaper," he asked.

The woman snickered. "No," she said. "That would be Walter Cullins."

The man looked furious, and bumped into the woman hard enough to send her reeling. Harlow moved to catch her before she could fall, but Batman moved quicker, grabbing her arm to steady her. The woman flinched and bit her lip at the vigilante's touch. Fear, Harlow wondered, or something else. He noted the dried tears streaking her face.

"Yeah, as in the Grim Reaper," Walter replied snidely.

"Is that so," Harlow remarked, rocking back on his heels. "The gun found in your possession isn't registered under Grim or Reaper. In fact, it is registered to a Martin Angelo who was murdered by his own weapon when his house was robbed two months ago. Witnesses said a lone man was seen running away from the scene. Care to explain how the murder weapon from that scene came to be the murder weapon here?"

Walter shrugged. "It's not mine. It's hers. I don't know where she got it."

"Was the gun loaded, Mr. Reaper," Harlow asked.

Walter snorted. "Obviously."


Harlow was to go on from here to prove in another paragraph and some dialogue that Walter (the Reaper) was the actual murderer of a number of crimes that he got out of by testifying that his girlfriend or colleague was the guilty party in exchange for a lighter sentence for himself. Harlow is a badass detective whose ability to connect seemingly unrelated facts and to expertly read people impresses even the Dark Knight. But I show this is another place that is more relevant to the story, so this wasn't needed in the end.