Batman and the associated characters are owned by DC. With grateful thanks for cmar for beta reading this chapter and thanks for all the reviews so far! All reviews welcome!

Chapter Nine – Batman – Time of the Wolf

Wayne Manor was a mass of workmen and scaffolding as the repairs to the damage done by Team Luthor was well underway. It was Luthor Construction that was dealing with it, a fact that neither Bruce nor Alfred was too happy about, but at least they seemed to be decent and fast workers. The supervisor, a huge bear of a man with a bloated stomach sticking out of his top, waddled over to Alfred.

"I thought they'd done away with this type of brickwork in the war," said the supervisor as he looked at one of the holes in the mansion. He scratched a hairy armpit and studied his finger with interest. Alfred shuddered slightly at this.

"Well, as you can see quite patently, they haven't."

"Do you want the same colour brick as you had before?"

"Yes."

"Can do you a nice section of green brick work. We still have some left after repairing the Metropolis stadium when Superman faced off with Metallo. I can do you a good deal on it."

"No, thank you."

"Do you want us to redo your driveway? I noticed a few potholes in it when we drove up."

"Those potholes were caused by Team Luthor, and yes, we do want them filled in."

"Tarmac or concrete?"

"Like for like, please."

The supervisor hissed through his yellow teeth. "I dunno if we can do that, you see…"

"That's no problem, shall I call Lex Luthor and ask him to call you?"

"Well, I'm sure we can…"

"Of course you can," said Alfred. "When will you be finished?"

"Well, hopefully by the end of today. I've got a few lads over in Keystone City. Captain Marvel knocked a hole in a few apartment blocks there. Some sort of alien invasion or some such…" The supervisor got a grubby bit of paper out of one pocket. "Oh yeah, also, you're out of coffee and the only biscuits you have left are those shortcake ones nobody likes… The lads were wondering if you could get some bourbon biscuits in? And you haven't got a copy of the Gotham Enquirer at all, have you?"

"We don't read such tawdry rags here," said Alfred.

"Fair enough, fair enough, of course I don't know how long this work will take…"

"If you could give me a shopping list, I'll see what I can get…"

He rubbed his hands together. "Certainly sir, certainly sir. If you could swing by Mickey D's on your way back, one of their breakfasts is always a rare treat!"

Alfred shuddered slightly at this thought. "I'll see what I can do, sir…" Alfred could see Bruce standing in the hallway behind him. "I'll be back shortly."

Bruce glowered at the builders. "When will they be gone?"

"Hopefully by the end of today, sir."

"I don't trust Luthor's men…"

"Me neither, sir, but the work needs doing."

"I've got to do some research on werewolves, I'll be in the cave."

"Certainly sir. You do remember that Miss Kyle is coming to dinner tonight?"

Bruce closed his eyes for a few seconds. "I might have to cancel.

"Nightfall isn't till 9:06 pm, sir, and do you really want her to know about your problem?" he added delicately.

"No, no." Bruce opened his eyes. "Could I have steak?"

"Certainly sir."

"Bloody as hell."


In a small internet café in the west side of Gotham a small man was busy researching. It was too early in the morning for anyone else to be there and the owner was busy staring into space, ignoring his one customer. Just a quick spray of Elikirisa and Ursortwac gave the man temporary amnesia…

It was amazing what you could find on the internet… There it was, a biography of Bruce Wayne on . Great philanthropist… Gives a lot to charity… Linked to several famous women… Nothing useful so far. Company deals a lot in security projects but nothing that harms anyone. God, what a dull person! What's the harm in causing harm?

There it is… Bruce Wayne supports local farmers and buys all his food locally. A great believer in organic food… There it is, buys all his food at Preston Ranch. Even a picture of his faithful servant, Alfred Pennyworth. Excellent! He even had a few ideas of what to use… He quickly skimmed through his details on the web… Excellent!

He quickly checked his small bag of potions and vials. He should have something here that could help him out…

Yes! A small vial of Tetrachloric acid. It was incredibly potent. It even worked on meta-humans… The ones who had been unfortunate enough to cross his path, anyway, and there was no known cure! Or none that he knew.

The resulting liquid was clear and odourless (curious, considering how it was made) and would, if applied to food, cause death in 48 hours… The wonderful thing was that poison would not be suspected (at least in his experience) and if they thought it was something they ate, or from an infected cut? Who would care! The farm would be blamed!

A quick check of his e-mails to see if he was missing anything… Some fool said he had seen a Ford Mustang 1962 copper hubcap in Wisconsin. Any idiot knew that copper hubcaps started in '65 for the Mustangs and finished in '68. He quickly sent an e-mail deriding him…

As he left the café he clicked his fingers at the Internet café's owner, who woke from his temporary amnesia unaware he had just missed twenty minutes of his life…


Deadshot grinned at the Cyborg, who had rescued him from his leap from the Gotham Tower.

"Well, we have a problem!"

"We have less than twelve hours to live unless we kill the Batman…"

"Yep!" Deadshot was curiously cheerful. "And I shot him several times and he just wouldn't lie down."

"We need a miracle…"

"We need a dog trainer… Do you know any?"

"What do you mean?"

"He turned into a large wolf. I didn't really hang around to see what happened next…"

"Wolf or man, I can kill him just as easily… This energy weapon can rip apart Superman himself." The Cyborg raised a metal arm that changed shape into a futuristic looking cannon. "However, the Batman is notoriously difficult to find; we need to draw him out somehow…"

"Any ideas?" asked Deadshot.

The Cyborg grinned, not that he had much choice with his metal teeth. "We need bait…"


Alfred got most of his food from a small farm just outside Gotham. It cost a bit more but it was all natural organic food. The wretched builders were eating him out of house and home! How dare they complain about the coffee? It wasn't Walmart's own brand, was what they were complaining about… He got the coffee shipped in especially from Venezuela and it was, to his refined mind, perfect.

He turned his attention back to the small farm shop he was in. The little man at the cash register was having some problems adding up all the items. "Your new here, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes." He rolled the steak over a few times before finding the price.

"What happened to Rick?"

"Something he ate…"

"Right, right." Alfred put all the items into the brown paper bag. Enough for the meal tonight and hopefully for the next few days… "Just put it on Mr Wayne's account, please?"

"No problem." The man with the funny little beard looked outside the window at Alfred's car. "Nice car."

"Thanks…"

"Bentley Arnage RL, isn't it?"

"Indeed."

"Nice hubcaps…"


The cave was dark with just the glow of the computer monitor screens in the corner. The bats for once were ignoring the part of the cave that Batman was in.

"Oracle," growled the Batman. "We've got a problem…"

"What's that?"

He was silent for nearly for a minute. "I've been bitten by a werewolf. I need to know any known cures. If I can't get a cure, then Luthor and Slade will run roughshod over my city."

"Luthor? What's he got to do with this?"

"I don't know… You should be getting some data from Nightwing soon."

"He's already downloaded the data from Luthor's database, I haven't had a chance to examine it yet… What are you after?"

"Luthor is in Gotham, his men tried to kill Bruce Wayne…"

"They tried to kill you? What happened?"

"They ran into me…" Batman sighed. "I need to know what he's thinking and why…"

"I'll be in touch soon…"

The sound of drills and workmen pervaded the cave; he kept one eye on various scanners in the manor, just to make sure they weren't doing anything they shouldn't be. Aside from gawking at his twelve foot plasma screen they were doing their job. A light footfall came on the stairs behind him. Without looking behind him he said, "You're back early."

"Yes, sir, although how you heard me with all that ambient noise in the background I will never know. They have got coffee and biscuits and seem to be happy. You'll be here for some time?"

"Yes," he said without looking round. He jabbed a needle into his arm and took a blood sample to examine. "You're still here…"

"You need to eat, sir. I have got you some fresh food today, sir. I have prepared a ham and mustard sandwich and a mug of coffee for you. Your favourite, sir."

"I'll eat when I have time…"

"You need to eat, sir…"

"I said I'll eat when I have time."

Alfred left the plate (the sandwich was wrapped in silver foil to keep it fresh) and the coffee mug next to Batman.

"I'll eat when I have time…" He muttered as he started to examine his blood under the microscope.


Gotham City Bank. Two men, one with a face hidden by a dark hood, strolled into the bank. A security guard walked over to the man with the hood and asked him to take his hood off.

That was his mistake…

The guard was pistol whipped to the ground. A woman customer ran out of the bank screaming.

One of the men drew out a silver magnum. "Everybody on the floor!"

The other man, with his face heavily shadowed in his hooded top, his voice like broken glass, said, "Give us the cash and nobody gets hurt…"

One of the bank tellers calmly started filling a bag up with money, as with her knee she hit the silent alarm...

She smiled at the two men. "This may take some time, gentlemen…"

A bulletproof screen hissed down, covering the bank teller's window. A security door dropped down over the door…

"We gotta problem here, bub!"

One of the customers started to run for the door. The man with the silver magnum grabbed her and pushed her to the ground…

"I wanna see some cash here or I start offing people!"

The sound of sirens started outside…


Bullock wound down the window of the car as they raced to the scene. It was cold outside but better that than the stink of Gordon's cigars.

"What we got here?" growled Gordon.

"Hostage situation…" Bullock listened into the crackle of the police band as they approached the area. "Two perps have at least ten hostages and won't leave until they see some dough… The bank dropped the bulletproof shields when they walked in…"

"Goddamm it, they should have given them the money and let them walk away…"

"Hell, commish, since when have banks had common sense? They won't give me an overdraft, for a start!"

Gordon thought that showed they had a lot of common sense, but he kept quiet. "Call in a SWAT team. We got any cameras on in the inside?"

"Uh huh. One of them has shot the cameras out. He sounds like a regular Billy the Kid. He winged a couple of our boys as they wrecked the joint. He shot their damn badges off… He said the next police officer he sees he'll shoot their eyes out! Regular charmer!"

Gordon looked out at the depressingly blue and sunny sky… If only it was nighttime, they might get a Bat-like visitor. During the day it was touch and go whether he appeared or not. With a bit of luck he has already heard about it…


Batman studied his blood under the microscope. He did not believe the "magical change" theory of werewolves. There had to be a scientific explanation for it… There had to be… There also had to be a cure. There has to be a cure… All the information he had on werewolves was how to kill them: silver bullets. Preferably silver from melted down crucifixes. Nothing on how to cure them. Apart from the death of the one who bit them to start with. That was a route he would not go down. He would not kill…

But neither could he countenance nights without being Batman. He would rather be dead…

If he metamorphosed into a killer he would kill himself first. He could not, would not be what he fought against…

Unthinkingly he reached a hand over to the sandwich and started peeling off the silver foil…

A beep sound came from the computer and words scrolled across the screen.

"HEIST IN PROGRESS GOTHAM CENTRAL BANK… HOSTAGES TAKEN… URGENT HELP REQUIRED. MORE INFORMATION TO FOLLOW…"

He put the sandwich down… Food and his problems would have to wait… He pulled his mask over his head and pressed a button on his belt. The throaty roar of the Batmobile's V8 engines filled the cave.


The hospitals of Gotham were filled with minor miracles, and not just getting a drink out of a machine that actually tastes of coffee, but medical miracles! The evening before, the emergency wards had been filled with people with bite marks. By the morning all 47 casualties had healed up, with nothing to show for their stay but a depleted bank account…

The Gotham News Channel had first of all run several stories on the spate of animal attacks in Gotham at night, but when they realised these attacks had stopped they moved on…They had run their one interview all morning and realised that nothing else was happening with it, especially as the newsworthy pictures of stricken, mutilated people in hospitals got replaced with non newsworthy pictures of healthy people strolling home.

Besides which there was a bank hostage situation! The air above the bank was filled with helicopters from the various news channels all breathlessly telling their viewers that although nothing was actually happening at the moment, they expected that to change any moment!

What they didn't realise was that something was already happening under their noses…

Batman did not normally like being out in daylight, it didn't do his night-demon image any good… In this case he had no choice though… Even with bright sunlight you got shadows and patches of darkness though, and Gotham was a city of shadows. Besides which, there is more than one way to sneak about Gotham without being noticed…


Gordon got out his thermos flask and unscrewed the top. The smell of coffee permeated the air and he sipped it black. He glanced over at the bank. One of his hostage negotiators was talking to the men inside on the phone. There was nothing much more he could do now.

A pizza delivery moped rolled up next to him….

The man on the bike got out a piece of paper. "Got a request for four king size pizzas at the bank."

"Yeah," said Gordon. "The bank robbers have asked for four pizzas in exchange for four hostages. We'll take the pizza in for you."

"Naaah, more than my job's worth. I've gotta get this paper signed, see…" The man furrowed his forehead as he thought. "Who's gonna pay for this, then?"

"We'll pay," said Gordon. "Are you sure you're okay taking them in? You don't want body armour or anything?"

"Ruin the line of my suit. I'm fine." The moped buzzed up to the entrance of the bank.

The man with a silver magnum opened the door to the bank and grinned when he saw the pizzas arriving, and motioned for him to walk in…

"Thanks! We got the pizzas and an extra hostage!"

Gordon cursed. A pizza delivery moped rolled up next to him.

"We got a request for four king size pizzas here? Sorry for the delay, somebody stole my bike; I had to borrow this one…" He looked in confusion at the two men. "What's wrong? Haven't you seen pizza before?"


Alfred sighed as he walked down the stairs to the cave. Bruce had not eaten or drunk anything as usual. He picked up the coffee and the sandwich.

Typical. He had left it alone.

He looked disappointedly at the sandwich and threw it away. It was one of his favourite types. The food from the farm was always exquisite, though…

Curiously, he was feeling a little rough after the meal he had just finished. Probably stress or lack of sleep though. Unlike Bruce, he found he needed his sleep.


Batman carefully lowered the pizzas onto the floor and looked at the two men holding up the bank. Half a dozen hostages were sitting cross-legged on the floor. He recognised one of the hostage takers as Deadshot, and the second he couldn't make out because of the hood. What were they doing in his town? Holding up banks was not really Deadshot's scene. Deadshot was lethal; he would have to take them both down. Hard.

Deadshot lifted up the pizza box. "Does this have anchovies?"

"No."

"Good, I just hate anchovies. Does anybody actually like anchovies? It's the same with Hawaiian pizza! What's the point in that? You don't put fruit on a pizza…" He lifted up the lid and the air was filled with tear gas.

Deadshot rose to his feet, a magnum flickering into his hand. Batman grabbed his wrist with one hand, his other arm elbowing him in Deadshot's chin. Deadshot was stunned by this and tried to raise his gun hand, only to realise that the Batman had dismantled his gun….

The other man swung a punch at the Batman but he easily evaded it. He punched Deadshot square on the chin whilst simultaneously sweeping his legs out to trip up the other man. He then ripped the second magnum from Deadshot's hand and sent a punch to his throat. The other man he sent three drug tipped darts to the face.

There was a pinging sound as the darts bounced off his metallic face.

Batman cuffed the unconscious Deadshot. He then ripped off his pizza delivery mask to reveal the sinister mask of the Batman and turned to face the other man.

The Cyborg lowered his hood revealing his metallic, skull-like face. His bionic hand folded back in on itself revealing a powerful energy cannon, which he pointed at the Batman…