Hopeful Idiot
Chapter 22: After the Party
Hope stayed at the party, chatting with Rachel and Bruce until the herald/announcer half-shouted to the room, "The unveiling will be in fifteen minutes!" Meaning that very shortly, Hope (along with everyone else) would be expected to take off her mask.
Nope! Hope smiled tightly at Rachel, "I've got to go to the ladies room. I'll be right back."
Rachel nodded. "Of course. It's down the left hall, third door on the right." She even helpfully pointed which hall was the 'left hall'. Considering the hugeness of Wayne Manor, if Hope had actually wanted the bathroom that would've been appreciated. However, Hope didn't.
Bruce gave her a knowing smile that was an interesting blend of his Batman persona in his knowing eyes, and his Bruce Wayne boyish grin. "We can speak of any more suggestions you have for the Foundation in the future." He leaned over and brushed his lips over her knuckles, lingering again. Instead of releasing her hand immediately afterward though, he pulled her closer with the hand that still held her own, and whispered in her ear, "It was lovely to meet you in person, Hope." Then he released her, physically stepping back to break the tense atmosphere.
"Yeah, sure, you betcha," Hope said in a single breath, blushing again at the intimacy of the moment, and hastily made her way out of the massive front room. We will not call it running. I'm not running away. I'm…strategically retreating!
She didn't begin to breathe normally again until she was back in a cab, heading down the long driveway. "Well…that was interesting."
Winston gave a woof of agreement, his tail doing a single tick-tock motion.
Hope looked down at him. "What'd you think of him?"
Winston gave another woof, this one a bit louder, and his tail made two tick-tocks.
"You like him, but you don't know for sure?" she tried to clarify the movement.
Winston let his tongue loll in a happy face.
"Yeah, me too. He wasn't what I expected." Hope looked out the window as the terrain went by. "He's obviously not stupid, given what he did with the Thomas and Martha Wayne Foundation, but he also didn't think it through to begin with, which confuses me. He has the money, resources, and his father was a businessman, who theoretically trained him in the basics at least. But I suppose he was a kid at the time…did he get so consumed by revenge that everything else went by the wayside? Too focused on attacking the criminals already present, instead of thinking about how to prevent criminals from ever being created…?" she mused aloud. "That can happen when we're young and stupid."
Winston gave a confused arroo.
She gave him a sad smile. "We can get a sort of tunnel-vision. Can't see the forest for the trees. Can't see the big picture because we're so focused on the little things around us. It's especially noticeable in kids. They don't really have the capacity to understand that the world doesn't revolve around them."
Winston snorted, shaking his head critically.
"Well, it's not their fault," Hope defended. "They're kids. They literally don't have the ability to mentally understand such things. Bruce was only—what, seven? eight?—when his parents died? At that age, he wouldn't have been capable of a lot of things. His mental maturity would prevent it. Then he grows up with this burning desire to vanquish the evil that destroyed his world. So, when his parents' murderer is finally dealt with, what does he do then?" She fell silent, looking out the window again.
Winston laid his head in her lap.
Her smile was sad when she looked down at him. "How empty he must have felt…" She began to pet him almost absently. "How lonely… No direction. No purpose. The one thing he had dreamed of for years was finally done." She shook her head. "No wonder he disappeared for seven years. He was trying to find himself." She paused. "And when he came back, having sorted himself out, he finds that the city he left is exactly the same. So, he comes up with a way to change it. Prevent what happened to him from happening to anyone else."
She snorted as she realized the obvious. "That's how he knows Ra's. He met him during those seven years. Ra's is the one who taught him to fight, no doubt. They have a falling out. Ra's is very black-and-white and his thinking is very big-picture. Bruce comes back and starts using the skills he learned from Ra's to 'take back the night'." She nodded. It sounded right. Fit with the man she had met. She groaned. "He's a hammer!"
Arrooo?
"It's this old saying," Hope clarified. " 'When all you have is a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.' He spent seven years seeing every problem as a nail, and became a hammer to deal with them. When he came back to Gotham, he forgot that some problems are screws." Which is why he became Batman and beat the criminals into mush. "It'd been too long since he'd thought about solving bad-guy problems in any other way. It's a habit!" She began to giggle. Batman is a consequence of 'if you don't use it, you lose it'…that's hilarious! In a really kinda sad way, but still funny.
She grinned down and Winston let his tongue loll. He liked it better when she was happy, even if he didn't understand why. He was still a puppy himself after all.
"Ma'am? We're here," the cabbie said as they slowed down.
"Thanks," she said, running her credit card through the machine.
"You sure you want to be here, ma'am? It's not a nice neighborhood."
"I'm sure." Hope got out, along with Winston. "I'm meeting someone here. It'll be fine." While neither she nor Clark had been overly worried about getting TO the party, both had been concerned over anything that might have happened and thus getting BACK from the party. What if Batman tried to follow her home or drugged her or something? So they arranged for Clark to meet her just outside of Gotham's city limits and they'd fly back home.
"Okay, but keep a watchful eye out," the cabbie reluctantly agreed and drove away.
"Seriously? We're in the middle of nowhere," Hope rolled her eyes. Derelict apartment buildings, Gotham Prison, and Arkham Asylum were the only things around.
"Priestess!" A little mouse voice drew her gaze down. "Is this Yours Priestess?" It held up a small dark dot.
"Hmm? What's that?" Hope knelt and picked it up. She turned it this way and that and shrugged in bewilderment. "No clue what this is." She threw it down an alley. Her eyes narrowed as she thought a minute. "Listening device maybe? Are there more?"
"We Know Not!"
"Look," she commanded. "Get rid of any you find." She didn't want Batman listening to her! Let alone listen to Clark! Who knew what he'd find out!
The mice scrambled out of the bags and scurried up and over Winston, little paws and noses going in and around and under the dog. Two more black dots went spinning into the alley. Then the mice went to her. She held as still as she was able as the four did the same to her as they had done to the dog. Another two black dots went off. One from her purse and one from the back of her dress. Finally, they seemed satisfied and went back into Winston's bags.
"Good grief. Five of the damned things? He's thorough, I'll give him that." Hope muttered in grudging respect. "Okay Idiot, I think we're ready." She didn't want to call him Clark while those listening devices were around, and Superman was what everyone used. Calling him Idiot was strictly a Hope-ism.
Winston jumped happily a couple times on his front paws. Bark! He was ready to go back to the den! It was way past time to sleep with his pack! Then the wind changed direction and he froze. Turning on a dime, faster than any Terran canine was able, and began to growl out at the darkness across the street.
Hope looked down at him in surprise. He'd never done this before! His tail was down, held stiff and still. He was facing away from her, his body straining. Waiting.
"Winston?" Hope asked softly, warily. Moving as little as possible, her eyes on the shadows where he was growling, she slid her hand up to grab the tiny gun she suddenly didn't think was so stupid. She slowly straightened once she had the gun and called out loudly, "I'm armed and my dog is very well trained. I don't want any trouble, but I will defend myself."
She didn't see anything that warranted Winston's behavior, but she knew he wasn't stupid and he had never done this before. She waited long seconds. Nothing moved. Winston didn't change direction or behavior. He stayed growling, ready and waiting. His teeth on full display.
Hope knew this was going to end badly if something didn't change. "Superman!" she yelled. "Superman!"
There was a rustle of fabric. Scraps of shoes on asphalt. Metal on brick.
Winston growled louder, his hackles rising even further.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Superman's calm, even, firm tone cut through the air. He stared at the same location as Winston. "I believe it's best for everyone if we all went back home. Agreed?" Though it came out as a question, it was more of a command and they all knew it. He waited long moments, staring out into the dark at whatever only he and Winston could see.
Finally, he turned to her. "May I escort you home, miss?" still in his Superman personae.
"Please," Hope nodded.
Clark picked her up, bridal style, one of her arms going around his neck, and then looked down at Winston. "Jump up," she commanded, her other arm reaching down to help. Then she had a lap full of white puppy, one arm around the pup and one arm around her boyfriend, and they were off.
Clark didn't mention the pairs of eyes that followed their track through the sky. Many sets neutral. Several sets aggressively wary. Two sets contemplative.
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
Bruce Wayne, aka Batman, had planted a listening device on the back of Hope's dress when he'd pulled her close to whisper in her ear.
Now, after everyone had left the party and once again his home was blissfully empty of everyone besides himself and Alfred, he analyzed the recording. He was amazed at how Hope reasoned her way to a very accurate description of himself. He was more than a little worried she had done it aloud in the back of a cab! Yet she had not mentioned his name in connection with Batman. Oh, someone who knew could connect the dots easily enough, but she had not outright said it. It could be interpreted that she was referring to the recent Thomas and Martha Wayne Foundation.
"She should be more careful," he sighed.
The recording also gave more questions. Who had been those tiny squeaky voices? Why call her 'priestess'? Whoever they were, they had very efficiently gotten rid of most of his tracking dots. All but the one on the bottom of her shoe, which had fallen off twenty miles outside of Metropolis.
He also now had confirmation that Winston was trained to defend her. She was smart enough—and paranoid enough?—to bring a gun to a black-tie high-society party. She knew how to shoot. Probably had a concealed carry license. Possibly an enhanced concealed carry license.
And that last bit… She had called out for Superman. That, along with the last tracking dot's location, meant the likelihood of her living in Metropolis was above 90%.
Bruce pulled up a search window and began to type.
FIRST/MIDDLE NAME: Hope
LAST NAME: Kra , Kray, Cra, Cray, Krae, Crae, Krai, Khra, Chray,…
Bruce spent a good ten minutes thinking of all diminutives and variations of possible spellings of what he had heard for her last name.
For age, he was less specific. He thought, based on the shine of her hair and timbre of her voice, as well as her general physical build, that she was around her late twenties or early thirties, but made the range much larger to catch any matches. Without seeing her face due to the mask, his estimation of her age could be further off.
DATE OF BIRTH: 1960+
LOCATION: Metropolis, United States ( miles)
SEARCH
.
.
.
SEARCH COMPLETE – 7 RESULTS FOUND
Bruce furrowed his brow. That was a lot of results for a single city. He typed again.
REFINE SEARCH PARAMETERS
OCCUPATION: Information Technology
OTHER IDENTIFIERS: dog+white+trained, concealed+carry+license
SEARCH
.
.
.
SEARCH COMPLETE – 1 RESULT FOUND
That was more like it. He clicked to open the window…and smiled at the I.D. photo. The hair and eyes matched perfectly with the woman he had met that night. "Hello Hope Kramer," he murmured.
+++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++
That night, there were two major events in the worst part of Gotham.
First, one lone patient quietly broke out of Arkham Asylum. Jack Napier escaped with the help of his psychiatrist, Dr. Harleen Quinzel. At this time, Jack has escaped five incarcerations, has killed four people, and has yet to meet Batman.
Upon his escape, Jack and Dr. Quinzel observed a lone red-headed woman speak with mice in an alley.
Secondly, there was a mass breakout at Gotham Prison. Seventy-two inmates escaped. One man began the breakout and then opened the cell doors to let out the others. Most inmates in low and medium security areas were easily subdued and successfully returned to their cells. However, in maximum security, the guards were killed quickly and almost all prisoners escaped through the hole in the wall that the first escapee had created.
The lone man who had orchestrated the breakout was never caught on camera. Only 3 inmates managed to truly escape. (The League of Shadows ensured that the other 69 criminals were never found.)
All of these people were present. While only one observer personally knows the red-haired woman in the sequined black dress, another two are very capable of finding out…if they so desire, that is.
+++++HOPEFUL+IDIOT+++++
Finished: 06.28.2021
The Aeslin mice come courtesy of the "InCryptid" series, from the mind of the singular Seanan McGuire.
Please tell me what you think, but constructive criticism please. I know it's not perfect.
CrystalAris generously donated her time to play sounding-board. Thanks bunches!