Hope you all had a Merry Christmas, I did, or for the politically correct, a Merry Pagan-Holiday-Adopted-by-the-church-in-order-to-encourage-people-to-convert. Unless you celebrate a different Holiday, or multiple holidays. Hope that you had fun. Unless you don't celebrate holidays, in which case, uh, hope you enjoyed the decorations? Moving on.

On New year's eve day, I went to the DMV, the guy grading the written tests looked and sounded like Dumbledore from the later movies. DMV experience was improved, but still boring since he was grading the tests by hand. One guy grading all of the written tests by hand. I think the DMV is a miserable place for everyone, not just the people who want to get their license/ID/whatever.

So new year, new year's resolutions. Here's a conversation I had with my mom.

Me: Want to resolve not to have any dessert next year?

My mom: WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?

Slightly freaked out me: … No I'm trying to save you from… sugar?

We decided to have less dessert, because none at all, while healthier, is apparently just crazy talk.


Running wasn't anything new to Bree, it had become a necessary part of her life. Running from a werewolf in a city however, wasn't quite what she was used to, but she adapted. A feather light charm applied to her body made it easier to run. She was faster than she would have been normally, it was easier to climb up fire escapes and jump across rooftops. There were drawbacks of course, like the occasional gust of wind that would catch her mid-jump a mess up her landing. She discovered another drawback after getting turned around near a storefront.

She had run into a dead-end and had to double back which unfortunately gave the werewolf enough time to catch up with her. Her reduced weight made it easier for the werewolf to bat her around. One swipe from its paw sent her flying through the display window of a nearby store, triggering the alarm.

Bree felt badly bruised, but nothing was broken and her thick coat had taken most of the damage from the glass. She shifted into her animagus form and hid among the shelves. The werewolf came in through the broken window, glass crunching under its feet as it sniffed around.

It tore through shelves, searching for its quarry. Bree didn't have time to be afraid, she ran ducked and darted, her small form much more maneuverable than the werewolf's bulk, especially in the compact shop.

And then there were sirens and shouting and gunshots and Bree was just trying to slip out of the shop when the cops called for backup since their bullets hadn't done anything more than make the werewolf angry. And then Captain Marvel arrived and knocked the werewolf with one punch which was the most entertaining thing Bree had seen all day. The look on the wolf's face when a man flew down and punched it out was just priceless, but Bree didn't have time to dwell on it.

She slipped out of the shop and ducked into an alley a few streets away before transforming back. A quick reparo spell fixed her damaged coat. She stretched a bit, trying to get a feel for her newest bruises. They weren't really that bad, not compared to the ones from the car at least, she could save Mama's medicine for the worst of her injuries.

"I need a drink." She muttered as she adjusted her bandana. She paused for a moment, wondering where that though had come from before shrugging it off. It wasn't like she had anything better to do now that the werewolf was taken care of.


Bree used the psychic paper she had gotten from Jimmy's shop in Mission City as a fake I.D at the bar she had found. The bartender was a gruff looking middle aged man who had a buzz cut and looked like he had either been a mercenary or a marine, one upon a time. He gave Bree and the psychic paper a long hard look before allowing her to order.

"How bought a glass of rum?" Bree asked the bartender.

"That'd be a little strong for you kid." The bartender stated.

"Rum and Coke then." Bree replied. The bartender nodded and mixed the drink for her. Bree began humming a tune she didn't really know as she sipped her drink.


"That girl didn't look twenty one." A patron said to the bartender sometime after Bree had left.

"She wasn't." the bartender replied.

"Then why give her a drink?" the patron questioned.

"She was using psychic paper as a fake ID. Probably would have worked on someone that didn't know who she was already." The bartender replied.

"So who was she?" the patron questioned.

"Wes's magi relative." The bartender replied. "Magi drinking age is seventeen."

"Lucky bastards." The patron mumbled.


Bree decided to head south, warmer waters and all that, but she wasn't going in a straight line. She could just hop on a bus and head for Miami, but that would be boring and easily tracked. She had a few stops to make along the way, contacts to get in touch with, favors to call in.

Her first stop was New York City and Imperial Corporation's American headquarters. Bree had dressed up and put on makeup for the occasion. She'd decided on a black pantsuit with her perception filter hidden under her sleeve, simple black flats, and a red ascot, which was actually the red bandana she'd gotten from Mama.

The building was a towering steel and glass structure with an artistic flair meant to make it more imposing. The lobby was designed with intimidation in mind. It was cold and white, with marble floors, a high ceiling, a large chandelier that could double as a modern art instillation, and a fountain that doubled as a wall since it was one of those modern thing with was water flowing over backlit glass.

"I'm here to see Cartwright." Bree told the receptionist.

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked without looking up from her computer.

"No." Bree replied.

"If you want to see Mr. Cartwright you'll have to make an appointment and come back later." The receptionist stated.

"If you want to keep your job you'll let me see Cartwright now." Bree told her in a cheerful tone. "I'm his future Boss, the heir to the company destined to take over as soon as Aunt Lisa retires or, God forbid, dies."

The receptionist looked up and caught sight of Bree's grin, which was somehow made more menacing by her blood red lipstick.


"I'm sorry about the receptionist. She's new." A man in a dark blue suit said as he let Bree into his office. He had dark skin, graying hair, and a receding hairline.

"It's fine Cartwright." Bree replied as she surveyed the office. It had the simplistic yet overpriced look the defined modern styling.

Bree sauntered over to the desk, sat in Cartwright's chair, and put her feet up on the desk.

"So first things first, this office isn't bugged is it?" she asked.

"No, I have security strip down the office and search it every morning." Cartwright answered as he sat down in one of the chairs usually reserved for visitors.

"Do you watch them do it?" Bree questioned.

"Yes." Cartwright said.

"How many did they find thing morning?" Bree inquired.

"Ten." Cartwright responded. "Most were Batman's."

"How do you know that?" Bree asked.

"They were bat shaped." Cartwright explained.

"Of course they were." Bree growled. "What the devil is wrong with that guy?"

"You don't like Batman." Cartwright said.

"None of us do." Bree pointed out.

"Company policy dictates he be treated as an annoyance, but you genuinely seem to hate him." Cartwright replied.

"I don't hate him." Bree replied. "It's just… if he was a fictional character, I'd like him. If the Joker were a fictional character I'd like him, as a character, as a foil for Batman. If they were fictional I would understand why the Joker has to stay alive and why Batman can't kill him or let him die. Because the story would need a villain, conflict, and drama, and the Joker provides all of that. But this is not a story. As actual people both the Joker and Batman disgust me. Joker just because he's a roach, Batman because there is no reason to keep the Joker alive, no writer pulling the strings, no law that says you always have to save the villain, but he does it anyway knowing that he's going to kill more people. The premise would work in a comic book, but in the real world it just doesn't make any sense. I told Batman as much myself."

"You've spoken to Batman?" Cartwright said. Bree nodded.

"I was in the hospital not too long ago, I guess when my name popped up he rushed over to see me before I disappeared again. I've been on his radar since Columbia; he wanted to know what I'd done with the venom formula I'd taken from Bane." She explained.

"Did you tell him?" Cartwright asked.

"Of course not." Bree answered. "He showed me pictures to try to shock me into talking. Overdosed junkies that had been using a new drug call Redline. Explain it to me. What exactly is my Aunt doing with the formula I handed over?"

"She's trying to perfect it, make it user friendly." Cartwright explained. "All of the benefits, none of the side effects. She wants two different versions, a super soldier serum to market to the military and another to use a drug additive to increase the addictiveness without the side effects."

"So the junkies are just cheap test subjects." Bree said.

"Cheap? They pay us, we just have to factor in the other drugs in their systems when we want to modify the formula which isn't too hard since we're their supplier we can control what they're putting into their bodies, even if it's not what they think it is." Cartwright answered. Bree considered his words.

"So is anyone getting pure venom?" she questioned.

"A few here and there when we want to test a new formula." Cartwright answered.

"Not exactly laboratory conditions." Bree remarked.

"The lab tests are all on animals. It takes a long time to work your way up to people that way. We're just trying to make a profit as quickly as possible. The way things are going in England, we need the money now." Cartwright replied. Bree frowned.

"What is the situation in England?" She inquired. "I'm afraid I've been out of the loop lately."


The situation in England was actually improving somewhat. Lisa had managed to get the help of the Russians and Bree's meeting with Boss Vito in Italy had opened up a new avenue with the Italian families. Lisa was still having problems with the Chinese, especially once Redline had hit the street and their sales had gone down, leading to a minor turf war.

The raid at on of the Ministry's Mudblood Relocation Camps had been highly successful thanks to the combined efforts of Remus, Sirius, Ron, the Twins and those that worked with them. This of course meant that there were more people to feed, clothes, shelter, and, in the case of the children, educate, which meant the cost had increased.

Add that to the price of arms and ammunition, body armor, getting people out of the country and making sure they were taken care of overseas, and converting one safe house into what was essential a private, heavily defended, hospital, and things got really expensive.

The Russians and the Italians helped with some of the cost, but they didn't want to spend too much. The alliance they had forged was uneasy at best and would only exist until Voldemort was gone. They all wanted to keep the Dark Lord contained and avoid World War Three and unnecessary loss of life. Having a madman kill off your customers is bad for business after all, but one wanted to spend so much that they'd be defenseless when they went back to fighting each other, and for all the forward progress they were making there had also been some steps back.

The Crown had issued an official reprimand to the Ministry of Magic commanding them to cease and desist any and all actions against Muggles and Muggleborns along with and order to turn over all marked Death Eaters along with their Leader. The Ministry (being the Dark Lords puppet government) had responded with an attempt to secede from the commonwealth and form a new country. The battle that followed was covered up as a bombing of London's shopping district and resulted in Diagon Alley being completely sealed off.

The "bombing" was blamed on the IRA. This wasn't entirely incorrect as the Ministry of Magic had reached out around the same time Voldemort decided he wanted a sovereign nation and had managed to form an alliance with the IRA. No one was quite sure how he had done it, but they knew that even though they were cracking down on magical Britain there were forces slipping through the cracks. It was difficult to contain magical Britain since it existed in a series of hidden pockets rather than one designated area with clearly defined borders.

The Weasley family was in mourning. They threw themselves into their work. The Burrow had been converted into a shelter with Mrs. Weasley doing most of cooking, Mr. Weasley had taken to spying on the Ministry, Bill helped with reinforcing wards and with negotiations with the goblins, Charlie taught those heading to the front lines spells he learned for taming dragons that would work on other creatures, the twins rarely left the lab they had been given, Ginny helped Luna and Neville, and Ron, Ron was becoming increasingly resentful.

Harry and Ron had both been upset when Hermione had been seriously injured with the Death Eater that had hurt her and with Bree. Why didn't Bree extend the "Death Eater Immunity" to Hermione? Did she think Hermione wasn't worth it? They knew the two girls didn't get along; did she want Hermione to get hurt? Of course Bree wasn't there to defend her actions so they could only speculate.

Under normal circumstances they might have let their tempers cool, but the circumstances were anything but normal. Harry wasn't allowed out in the field too often, it was pointed out that even with the "Immunity" he could still be captured and without the ability to hurt him physically the Death Eaters would have to get creative. He resented being coddled and protected while Bree was out there, travelling the world and not making any visible impact against Voldemort's forces. He felt that he could have done more if only they let him out.

Ron might have cooled off if it hadn't been for Percy's death.

"How dare she go gallivanting off to-to who knows where and leave us all in the lurch!" Ron shouted indignantly. Hermione had asked Lisa what she knew about Bree's movements and if she was doing alright and it had snowballed from there.

"It's bad enough that she got Percy involved in all this, but she didn't think that he deserved protection!" he exclaimed. Unfortunately he said this during one of the few times the twins had left the lab for anything other than a battle.

"You don't even know what kind of magic she used or what the limitations are! None of us do!" George argued.

"We're here fighting a war and she's on holiday!" Ron yelled.

Hermione tried to point out that if Bree hadn't left she might not have found whatever magic that was protecting certain people, but Ron wouldn't hear it. The argument only got worse from there.

Lisa, for her part, remained silent throughout the exchange, keeping up a refined mask. She had recently finished reading a report from Percy and the Taskforce she had organized to act against The Light. It was another expense but the Italians and the Russians were helping in that area as well. They all agreed that The Light's plan to upset the status quo was ill-advised. They liked the status quo, the status quo was profitable and The Lights plan to further human innovation by eliminating the Justice League could end very badly and result in a net loss.

Percy was an integral part of the taskforce and had played a big part in thwarting, or at least postponing, The Light's plan to split the earth into two worlds, one with just children, one with just adults, just to cause a distraction so they could steal something.

Of course Lisa didn't mention any of this. She also didn't mention that Bree hadn't been the one to cast that protection spell. It had been whatever Bree had made a deal with and no one knew what the thing was or what the deal would cost Bree in the end. She didn't tell them about Percy because it would undo all of the work put into faking his death and if they were ever captured they might let something slip. She didn't say anything about Bree's deal because if they knew what Bree had done they might be stupid enough to seek the creature out.


Cartwright had told Bree about the Light and that Lisa had rejected their offer, but he hadn't said anything about of the situation with Percy, the effort to sabatoge the Light, or Hermione's injuries. He'd been ordered not to tell Bree about the Light and he didn't know about the other stuff, and even if he had he wouldn't have told her because it just would have hurt her.

"How interesting." Bree said once Cartwright was finished speaking. She turned the chair so she could gaze out the window and then she kept turning.

"Hey!" she exclaimed. "Stop spinning!" She planted her feet firming on the floor once she was facing the window again. She frowned as she looked out at downtown New York.

"Cartwright, what was I thinking about?" she asked.

"I have no idea." Cartwright answered.

"I was thinking… Rum! Have someone bring up some rum!" she ordered.

"It's before noon." Cartwright pointed out. Bree waved off his concern.

"Then have someone bring up banana daiquiris and we'll call it brunch since bananas are a food." She commanded. Cartwright sighed but did as instructed.

"You know I've been avoiding the magical world." Bree stated after the banana daiquiris had arrived. "I thought it would make it easier for them to find me."

"A wise decision, very few British Wizards raised in the magical world know how to navigate the non-magical one." Cartwright replied.

"Not surprising." Bree muttered. "So what have you been doing while my Aunt tries to stop World War Three?"

"I oversee company operations here in the Americas. I also negotiate business deals and attend certain high profile events in your Aunts place. Speaking of which…" Cartwright said. "The Wayne foundation is hosting a benefit auction in two days."

"And?" Bree pressed.

"People have been curious about Lisa's heir..." Cartwright began.

"No." Bree interjected, cutting him off. "There's a reason I'm avoided direct contact with the company until now. They follow me. No matter where I go they follow and people get hurt."

"Well, it's a high profile event in Gotham. Lots of rich people together in one place. Chances are high that uninvited guests far more dangerous than the Death Eaters will show up." Cartwright pointed out. "And I believe there are a few debts to cash in on in Gotham, families to negotiate with, allies to recruit. Isn't that the job you were given?"

Bree frowned.

"That has nothing to with going to an auction with a bunch of rich people." She argued.

"You're Aunt wants to prepare you for what you'll face as the head of the company. You've been learning about one side of the job, don't you think it's time you learned about the other?" Cartwright questioned.

"Fine." Bree muttered


The Imperial Corporation had started out as a criminal enterprise founded by Lisa's many time Great-grandfather that eventually became known as The Empire. Over the years The Empire started becoming more of a legitimate business after witnessing the short lived rise and fall of other crime families. The criminal and business worlds were both cutthroat but the business world tended to be less literal about it.

But this didn't mean the company was losing power in the criminal world. In fact, money from the business side could fund the criminal side if it started to flounder or vise versa, as long as they were careful about covering their tracks. Of course there were rumors, suspicions, but nothing was ever proven.

Of course, there was a very good reason for this. Magic. Magic could alter memories. It could render someone speechless. Anyone who found out something they weren't supposed to know forgot and most who tried to snitch found themselves unable to speak. Any problem magic couldn't solve money took care of.

In the criminal underworld Lisa had the reputation as one of the scariest non-meta woman on the planet, though no one could quite say why. She had the reputation of making her problems disappear. It was rare day when someone confronted Lisa directly.

One the legal side of things Lisa had the reputation of being a bit of an eccentric know for buying overpriced luxury items. Like a diamond encrusted Bluetooth headset, a solid gold iphone case, and once, a restaurant just so she could fire a waiter she didn't like. It was thought by the public that Vince was the better businessperson.


Cartwright arranged a meeting with a few of Gotham's crime families. The Falcones, the Inzerillos, and the Odessa Mob. Cartwright had rented out a backroom of an upscale restaurant. Bree was wearing an outfit quite similar to what she had been wearing the day she had met Cartwright with a pencil skirt instead of slacks and make up meant to give her a more striking appearance.

"Now remember Carmine Falcone hates "masks." The Falcone family has been losing power ever since Batman first appeared and the arrival of super-villains in Gotham hasn't helped." Cartwright told Bree as they waited for their guests. "The Inzerillos and the Cassamentos have been at war for years now, but neither side is pulling ahead. Now the Odessa Mob mainly does arms trafficking but has been branching out."

"I know, I know. I read up on the way here." Bree replied. "I also know that if anyone suggests working with Intergang or the Light I'm to shut that line of thinking down faster than a speeding bullet.

"Just making sure. I know you did well with Boss Vito, but that was Italy and this is Gotham." Cartwright explained.

"It'll be fine." Bree assured. "Wards are up and bodyguards are in position."

Enrico Inzerillo, Carmine Falcone, and Vasily Kosov of the Odessa Mob. All three were the heads of their respective families. They were all experienced crime lords dressed in immaculately tailed suits. They all projected a tough guy persona, not the kind of people you wanted to cross.

"What's with the kid Cartwright?" Enrico asked.

"I'm legally an adult. I also happen to be Lisa's heir." Bree replied coolly.

"You're the one that nearly drove Bane crazy." Vasily declared.

"Crazier." He amended after a moment.

"Oh yeah, that was the best kidnapping experience I've ever had." Bree said brightly. "Got cheese bread, duct taped Bane to a chair, began a campaign to slowly drive him insane, convinced his henchmen that I was some kind of evil spirit, temporarily became there new boss, stole Bane's formula for Venom and all his notes… It was actually pretty fun, and then Robin and a couple of other sidekicks showed up and I ducked out before their mentors showed up. Didn't stop Batman from tracking me down later though."

She pouted.

"You've got problems with the Bat?" Carmine questioned.

"Don't we all?" Bree replied. "But it's not really that big of an issue for me, he has suspicions and no proof. Wanted me to snitch, seemed to think I was a better person than my Aunt. Didn't realize that even if I was, you don't betray your family, but enough of that. We're not here because of Batman."

"Then why are we here?" Enrico asked.

"Yes, I've been wondering that myself." Vasily stated.

"I'm sure you've all heard about the situation in England." Bree said.

"The terrorist attacks." Carmine said. Bree frowned.

"More like a budding super-villain." She replied. "He's a racist, xenophobic, megalomaniac with goals quite similar to Hitler's. He intends to massacre anyone with the wrong bloodline, and if they have the right bloodline he'll kill them too if they stand up to him."

"Sounds like a problem for the Justice League." Enrico told her.

"New Hitler has part of the government under his control and is trying to establish a new nation. The U.K. is essentially fighting a secret war against itself and we want it to stay a secret to prevent escalation. Batman gets involved and maybe the Joker joins the other side just to mess with him, and Batman isn't the only member of the League with a psychopath willing to screw over everyone else just to get in their heads." Bree responded. "And don't even joke about getting other governments involved. Last thing anyone wants is another world war, not with all the new ways of killing each other we've come up with since the last one."

"War can be good for business." Vasily stated, his Ukrainian accent coming a bit thick. "People run out of supplies or want something moved through a checkpoint and they'll pay whatever price you ask."

"Of course the arms dealer would say that." Carmine sneered.

"War is only profitable in undeveloped nations that can't mass produce certain items. When war spills over to where the actual factories are it becomes a problem." Bree pointed out.

Vasily didn't respond.

"I'm assuming you have a plan and that's why you wanted to meet with us today." Enrico stated.

"Quite." Bree answered. "We've already allied with the Russians and the Italian families back in London. It's temporary, just until we take out New Hitler, but we've been doing well, keeping the conflict contained, but we've been having problems with the Chinese and New Hitler got the IRA on his side. We'd appreciate if the Falcones and Inzerillos could run interference with the Chinese. As for the Odessa Mob, I've heard good thing about the quality of your merchandise. We've got plenty of guns but we'd like a little more variety, maybe some things that go boom."

"And what would we get in return?" Carmine pressed. Bree grinned.

"Why Carmine, I'm so glad you asked." She replied in a sickeningly sweet voice as she pulled a little black book out of her pocket and opened it to the first page. "Let me paint a picture for you. It's a hot summer day in Gotham, Batman hasn't been yet, and Vincent Falcone is meeting with Bertrand Norwood while their wives and children get to know each other in another room. The Sabatinos hear about the meeting and decides to make a move. Lisa Norwood reacts quickly thanks to lessons from her father, grabs the person standing next to her and dives to the ground. When the shooting stops Anne Norwood is dead and there's a bullet hole where Carmine Falcone's head would have been had Lisa not saved him. At Anne's funeral Carmine tells Lisa that once he's the head of the family she can come to him for anything. So, are you going to keep that promise?"

"Damn, it's been so long it must have slipped my mind." Carmine muttered.

"That's why Aunt Lisa keeps a list." Bree stated. "Now it's my understanding that the Inzerillos are having problems with the Cassamentos. We're prepared to offer you an edge."

"What kind of edge?" Enrico asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

"Redline." Bree replied. "It's highly addictive, highly profitable, and we're trying to refine into a super soldier serum without the side effects of Venom. But I guess if you're not interested I could take the offer elsewhere."

"I never said I wasn't interested." Enrico answered quickly.

"I'm so glad." Bree said, smiling.

"And what do you have to offer me?" Vasily inquired.

"Ah, well, I was thinking your usual fees but if you want something more than I guess I could sweeten the pot." Bree replied, grinning predatorily. "Rumor has it you're trying to expand your business. We could help with that."

In the end, Bree had gotten exactly what she had wanted out of the meeting and Cartwright was pleased with the way she had handled herself.


The next evening was the charity auction. The Wayne foundation had rented out a lavish ballroom and had paid the finest restaurants to cater the event. The wealthy men and women were in their finest clothes, jewelry, and fur.

Cartwright dressed in a black three piece Armani suit and had on a Rolex watch that Bree was certain cost more than her home in Surrey, or at least the down payment.

Bree wore a red form fitting A-line evening dress with a Bateau neckline, skin colored stockings and black cross strapped pumps. Her hair had been given extra length and had been partially pulled back secured with a red bow, which was actually her red bandana that she had insisted the stylist include. There was a glittering diamond choker around her neck that had come with a pair of matching earrings. All of her visible scars and the tattoos on her wrists had been covered up with long lasting make up. The makeup artist had given her a softer look than what she had at the meeting the day before.

It had seemed like everyone wanted to shake her hand and suck up.

"You're faking it quite well." Cartwright whispered so no one else could hear.

"I figured it was probably best if I didn't tell potential investors and business partners exactly what I think of them." Bree whispered back.

"Isaac! It's great to see you." Someone greeted cheerfully. Bree turned and saw a familiar looking dark haired man in an expensive suit approached, followed by a dark haired boy.

"Bruce! It's been awhile." Cartwright replied. "I'd like you meet Lisa's niece and heir, Bree. Bree this is Bruce Wayne and his ward Richard Grayson."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Wayne." Bree told Bruce.

"Please, call me Bruce." He replied, shaking her hand.

They chatted for a bit before Bruce had to greet more guests.


The auction opened with a Rembrandt and Bree quickly lost interest, barely paying attention until one object in particular caught her eye.

"Our next item!" the auctioneer announced. "A ceremonial sword forged by John Brown during the seventeen hundreds. It's truly a masterpiece, perfectly balanced, the blade is folded steel and it had gold filigree laid into the handle. It was presented to a Captain of the British Royal Navy upon his promotion to Commodore, but it didn't stay with him for long, passing through the hands of many others including, legend says, the hands of Davy Jones himself. Truly a must have for any collector."

"I want that sword." Bree told Cartwright.

"What?" he said in surprise.

"Get me that sword." Bree ordered. Cartwright sighed but did as instructed. He bid until they won the item. The moment the winner was announced there was an explosion. Glass and debris went flying, people screamed. Bree scowled. Cartwright had pulled her down. She slipped out of his grasp and moved toward the auction stage, grabbed the sword and put it into her inventory, thankful the she had been seated near the front.

Insane laughter filled the air as the dust began to settle. Bree went to activate her perception filter.

"Oh… right." She said as she stared her bare wrist. She hiked up her dress and headed for the nearest exit.

"Sorry to crash the party, but my invitation was lost in the mail." The Joker stated as he walked in through the hole the explosion had created. Gun toting henchmen in clown masks and bulletproof vests stormed in through every door, blocking Bree's exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" one of the henchmen sneered.

"To powder my nose?" Bree replied. "I'll come right back, so if you'll just let me get by…"

The Joker laughed.

"You're a bold one aren't you, or maybe just stupid." He said as he approached Bree. As he got closer she noticed that he glazed look in his eyes.

"Actually I think it's pretty smart to evacuate a building that has had a hole blown in it instead of cowering in fear until the building collapses thanks to structural damage caused by the aforementioned hole." She replied. "Unless you were talking about the lie I told your henchman, because then I'd have to agree, it was stupid."

"Awfully chatty. Most people would be begging for their lives right now." The Joker commented. "Oh Joker, please don't kill me! I'll do anything you want!" he continued in a high falsetto.

"It's pathetic really." He said in his normal voice.

"And pointless." Bree replied. "You're the Joker, you'll do whatever you want regardless of what I do. You're unpredictable and can't be reasoned with, so why even bother?"

The lights went out. The henchmen started firing at a figure in the shadows, but began going down one

Batman emerged from the shadows.

"Let her go Joker." He demanded.

"And lose my hostage?" The Joker asked. "What kind of man do you take me for?"

He kept his knife pressed against Bree's neck and reached into his pocket with his other hand, pulling out a detonator and hit the button. Gas began pouring out of his henchmen's vests, acting as a smokescreen that let the Joker drag Bree out of the building.


Bree was handcuffed with her mouth taped in the back of a nondescript white van the Joker had had waiting outside along with a getaway driver.

"So once we hand the girl over, then we get the money?" the driver questioned.

"No." the Joker replied. "There's no money."

"Then what, jewels? Weapons?" the driver pressed.

"No. There's nothing." The Joker answered.

"Then why are we doing this?" the driver asked. The Joker blinked slowly.

"Why?" he repeated, confused. "Why am I…?"

The glazed look disappeared from his eyes. He snarled in rage and began cursing.

"Go back to the hideout." He ordered after he had calmed down a bit before turning his attention to Bree. He ripped the tape off.

"What do you know about people with magic sticks?" he demanded.

"You're going to have to narrow it down a bit." Bree replied. "There's Santana, one of their songs, part of it goes "Turn your back on me baby. Turn your back on me baby. Yes, don't turn your back on me baby. Stop messin' around with your tricks, don't turn your back on me baby, you just might pick up my magic sticks." And then there's stage magicians-"

"The people that are after you!" the Joker shouted, cutting her off.

"Oh, you mean Death Eaters." Bree responded.

"Death Eaters." The Joker repeated flatly.

"Yeah, I thought it was kind of lame too, I mean, how do you eat death?" Bree said.

"So what are these Death Eaters?" The Joker questioned.

"Human." Bree replied. The Joker grabbed her shoulders roughly.

"What kind of human can use mind control?" He snarled, getting in her face. Bree grinned.

"So that's why your eyes were glazed over, you were Imperiused!" She said excitedly. Her brow furrowed. "Or is it Imperio'd? … Anyway, they seized control of your mind. Funny, I only know of two people that can break it, but I guess being completely out of you mind helps when someone tries to control it."

"No one controls the Joker." The crazed clown growled.

"So it would seem." Bree replied with a smirk. "I'm guessing since their attempts and grabbing me themselves didn't go well they decided to use you, knowing I wouldn't fight back since one; it wasn't them attacking, and two; it was a public place. I guess they're getting smarter."

"Why do they want you so badly? You don't look like anything special." The Joker sneered. Bree resisted the urge to laugh. Acting like a crazed lunatic around a crazed lunatic probably wasn't a good idea.

"I may have made them believe something about me that wasn't what you would call the truth." She said instead.

"So you lied." The Joker stated, letting her go..

"No, no, not lied." She protested. "Everybody tells lies. I told truths. But I told them in a way that led people to believe things that aren't true."

"What truths did you tell them?" The Joker questioned.

"Not them. I didn't say anything to them. I talked to other people and what I was saying got back to their leader." Bree answered. "I think the first one was "The stars are going out." There were a few others too but the one that really got me in trouble was "Tick-tock goes the clock. And what then shall we see? Tick-tock until the day that thou shalt marry me? Tick-tock goes the clock. And all the years they fly. Tick-tock and all too soon, you and I must die. Tick-tock goes the clock. He cradled and he rocked her. Tick-tock goes the clock. Even for the Doctor." They thought it was a prophecy. They think I'm a seer."

"Are you?" the Joker pushed.

"No!" Bree exclaimed. "It was a joke. But people took it too seriously."

"Some people just don't have a sense of humor." The Joker said. "I just want to make people laugh, but no one ever gets the joke."

Bree rolled her eyes.

"Who cares about other people? I get the joke, that's all that matters, though I suppose I could have thought more about the consequences." She replied.

The Joker seemed to be thinking over her words when the van slowed to a stop.

"Oh look, we're here!" he exclaimed. "Now I can start planning how to kill those mind controlling bastards!"


The Joker's hideout was an abandoned theater. Bree was seated in the front row watching the Joker onstage. He had set up a card table, piled blueprints on top of it and started sketching out a death trap while the driver stood awkwardly to the side.

"So I'm guessing that I'm playing the part of bait in this plan." Bree stated.

"Those Death Eaters expected me to take you to them, if they really want you they'll come to get you, and then I'll get them." The Joker replied.

"What about when Batman comes?" Bree questioned. "Because he will come, and he'll bring along his pathological need to save everyone, even you."

"That's because Batsy and I have a very special relationship." The Joker told her.

"Is that why you can't kill him?" Bree inquired.

The Joker looked up slowly. "What?" he said in a dangerous tone.

"You are a psychopathic homicidal nightmare. If China really wants to do something about population control they could just drop you in Beijing and call it a day." Bree responded. "But despite all your scheming and mass-murdering, he's still alive. So either your holding back, or he's just that good."

The Joker paused for a moment to consider her words.

"He's just that good." He declared. "But he inspires me to be better."

"But if you really want this trap to be better than previous ones you shouldn't be dividing your attention like this." Bree advised. "The one you really want is Batman right? He's the real challenge, the Death Eaters, they're just like your henchmen, disposable and replaceable, and you don't really want to waste your time on a few easily offed mooks do you? Granted those "magic sticks" of theirs make them slightly more challenging than your driver there, but if you just dodge their spells and get up close they suck and hand to hand. Or you could just shoot them, but if you want them to suffer evisceration is always an option. The human body can go through a lot before sustaining enough damage to cause death, as long as you avoid vitals and arteries. Ooo, do you have any poisons?"

The driver stared while the Joker seemed thoughtful.

"I suppose you do have a point." He said, stroking his chin.

"Harley!" she shouted, frowning when he got no answer.

"Harley!" he shouted again. "Honestly where is that good for nothing-"

"She's still locked up in Arkham." The driver stated.

"Oh, right." The Joker said. "In that case, driver! Fetch me my blowtorch!"


The Joker was distracted. He was wearing a welder's mask and had his back to Bree and the driver was acting as his assistant. Bree had already gotten out of the handcuffs and was just waiting for the right moment. The moment had arrived. The sound of the blowtorch muffled the soft pop of Bree's transformation. Once in cat form she darted beneath the seats and headed for the doors to the lobby. That was when two Death Eaters burst through them and demanded to know why the Joker hadn't taken her to them.

"No, no, I'm sure that the plan was for you two to meet me here." The Joker told them as he put down the blowtorch, took off the welder's mask, and approached them.

"You were supposed to bring her to the docks." One Death Eater replied.

"Just drop it. He's completely insane, even under the Imperius. At least he caught her." The other Death Eater told his partner.

"Yes, yes. I caught her. But about that other thing..," The Joker said, putting his arms around one of the Death Eaters shoulders. "Mind control doesn't work on me."

He stabbed the Death Eater and the driver shot the other one before that statement could fully register.

While that was gong Bree had sneaked backstage and up onto the large catwalk above the stage. She switched back into human form and began making preparations in case more Death Eaters showed up and she had to fight her way out. She pulled a dagger out of her inventory and hacked at her dress until it was knee length with a slit up to mid-thigh so she could move more easily, then took her favorite boots out her inventory and put away her pumps.

Bree kept usually kept her wand inside one of her boots or tucked away in her clothing since there had been problems retrieving certain magical objects during testing and Bree didn't want to lose her wand, so she had left it in the car, the perception filter that didn't go with her dress. The filter she could have put into her inventory, but she had only realized she was wearing it at the last second right before they were about to get out of the car, so she had panicked. She was supposed to pretend to be the perfect little heiress, a pyramid studded leather bracelet would have thrown everything off.

She transformed back into her animagus form and waited.

It turned out the Joker hadn't killed the Death Eater he had stabbed. No, he had left the man alive just so he could beat him to Death.

"No. One. Controls. The. Joker!" he exclaimed, punctuating every word with a blow from a crowbar. He continued the assault until the Death Eater was completely broken and bloody.

He turned on his heel, leaving the bodies by the door. He frowned as he looked at the seats.

"Something's missing." He muttered as he surveyed the front row. His eyes widened before his face twisted into an angry snarl.

"Where is she!" he shouted, clutching the crowbar.

"I don't know." The driver replied fearfully.

"Find her!" the Joker ordered. The driver ran off to search other rooms in the theater.

Bree tried to keep an eye the Joker, but she was distracted, there was something moving nearby. Her ears flicked, trying to pinpoint the sound of whatever was moving. There was something on the catwalk with her, something she couldn't quite see. There was a flicker of movement, then she felt herself being picked up by the scruff of her neck.

"A kitty on the catwalk, how cute." The man that had picked her up said. His voice was gravelly and rough. Bree looked him in the eye, but it didn't make sense, he was the same color and texture as everything behind him. It wasn't invisibly, she could still she him, but it was like the background was printed on his clothes and Disillusionment Charm! How could she have forgotten?

She switched back to human form, kicking out and forcing the man to release her.

"Oh no, you're not getting away from me again!" the man snarled.

"Again?" Bree said, backing up with her hands behind her back, feeling the safety railing.

"The other night." The man growled. Bree's eyes widened.

"You're the werewolf that got punched out!" she exclaimed. He charged. Bree pulled the sword from the auction out from behind her back. The werewolf couldn't react quickly enough and his own momentum sent the sword through his chest. Bree removed the bloodied sword and let him fall over the railing. The Disillusionment broke after he hit the stage.

"So there was another one." The Joker stated. Bree barely had time to block with the sword as he swung a bloody crowbar at her.

They stayed like that for a very brief moment, weapons locked together, then Bree kicked the Joker in the knee, throwing him off balance, while simultaneously sliding her sword down the length of the crowbar an slicing into his hand.

"That's fighting dirty." The Joker complained, on his knees and clutching his bleeding hand.

"That's fighting to win." Bree replied before putting her sword up against the Joker's throat.

"Why is it that no one's killed you yet?" she asked. She pushed the blade against his neck, drawing blood. "It would be so damn easy, you're just scum! So why?"

Her eyes widened and she froze.

"Oh, I can see it now. That's why." She stated, pulling the sword away.

"What? What did you see?" The Joker demanded. Bree plunged the blade into his calf. She picked up a discarded piece of her dress and used it to clean the sword before putting back in her inventory. She didn't see the Joker get to his feet.

"What did you see!" The Joker demanded. Bree turned as he lunged and he pinned her against the railing. She gasped and glanced down at the knife in her stomach.

"Time. Yours isn't up." She whispered. The Joker scowled and tossed her over the railing. They were right over his incomplete death machine.


Alice was listening to the radio as she folded laundry.

"Breaking news: The heiress to the Imperial Corporation is in critical condition tonight after the Joker abducted her from the Wayne Foundation's charity auction."

Alice dropped the shirt she was folding as her eyes widened in horror.


So I thought I should warn you, Bree's going to be acting pretty differently. I've put hints of this transition in previous chapters, but it's about to become more obvious, for reasons that won't be explained for a while.