CHAPTER 56:
"Enigma"
Love had a way of blinding a person's sensory perception to all other things, basically placing them into a world of their own.
For Timothy Drake and Stephane Drake, right here and now, nothing else came close to the world they were in together. To them, the rest of the world itself was forgotten, and the fundraiser happening up above in the Manor was a distant, far off thing.
They had left the party very early in its inception and snuck down to the subterranean caverns of the Batcave. Here, they broke all the rules, and allowed their renewed attraction to take over. Their bodies thrust together in sweat drenching passion. They were old enough to take responsibility for their actions and to be safe about it. It was a love rekindled after a prolonged, regretful interlude.
Tim exalted a heavy gasp, giving into his desires, with Stephane sharing a collective release of passion, their cries echoing the sounding cave system. When it was over, Tim dropped, and laid beside Stephane, his head resting on her blossom.
Since the incident with Bane, which was later handed over to the Gotham PD, they officially became a couple once more, their past differences forgotten. Now being older, it allowed them to express a romanticism that had been lacking in their previous relationship. And during the last week, after everything that had happened since Dick's attempted assassination had settled down, the hounds of the media at the family's throat, it gave them the time to re-enter and convey what they wanted in their new togetherness.
And right now, it was raw, animal magnetism.
Tim had thought ahead of time and rolled out a soft mattress in a secluded, deep part of the unfinished, under-construction, cave system. The Batcave was always expanding, the main area was already massive, and had grown to five times its size since Tim had joined the fray, and further so, when he relinquished the mantle of Robin to Damian and became Red Robin.
Bruce managed to tap into every resource and element the bedrock underneath the Manor had to offer for his purposes, so the entire cave was self-sufficient and generated by hydro-electrical power and regenerative with underground springs and wall falls.
As this part of the cave was under construction, they were safe from being discovered. No one would look for them here if anyone wondered where they had gone. Alfred, perhaps? But he was busy with serving guests. And entrances to the Batcave were secured off to the public. There was absolutely no way anyone could, even accidentally, get down here. The only way was unless they had authorization, or, heaven forbid, some other means to an end to do so.
Nestled under a blanket Tim had draped over them after the act, they lay together, their bodies in a collective embrace.
This had not been the first time they had entered into the throes of passion since they returned from their latest mission, and almost immediately they had returned, Dick took Tim aside and they talked about he had heard Tim and Steph did in Bane's complex.
Dick understood when things were explained and didn't scold him. Tim knew Bruce would be angry and would yell at him.
But Dick insisted Tim be responsible if things happened again. Then, he quite humorously, asked for Tim's wallet giving him a handful of condoms, and in remuneration, Dick asked for another colouring book with a box of crayons.
They both had a good laugh.
Tim cocked his head up and looked at Steph, his face partially sunken into her breasts looking like a plush toy. She laughed, and he smiled, his mouth producing a humorous rendition of a joker's parody. Her hand brushed through his ruffled, sweaty, dark hair, and she told him she loved him and he reciprocated her feelings, both leaning in for a long kiss.
He suddenly shivered, his body trembling, and Steph felt it. She pulled up the blanket to cover themselves. Their act created a lot of heat, but now, with their bodies beading from the after effects, the dampness of the caves created a chill.
"Be careful, or you'll catch yourself a cold," she said.
"I'll never be cold with y—"
He turned and sneezed, then sniffed. "Sorry, maybe you're right," he said.
"Do you think we should get back to the party? People may wonder where we are?"
"Let them wonder," he said. He shifted his weight up to lean on a series of pillows Steph was already sitting against. He had brought them down with the mattress, along with the blanket to cover them, and a dim gas flicking campfire lantern as a light source. She said he was a true romantic. "I want this moment to last. It's been a long time since we were able to be alone like this.
"Does the quickie a few days ago count?" she asked humorously.
He gave her a thin smile. "I wanted to show you just much you mean to me. With the resources I have, other than renting a room someplace, and with the whole city knowing who I am, this was the best place I could think of. The media doesn't need to stick their nose in our business. But I have booked us for a week long ski vacation at a French Villa next week."
"Ooh, how romantic. I bet you used Wayne to get a reservation?"
He chuckled. "Oh yeah, I did. The name holds a lot of power and not just in Gotham. Drake is my birth name and I'm proud of it, but if I want anything truly important and fast, I use Wayne—my adoptive name. And I usually get it without question."
"Don't you think that's a little narcissistic? You know what, you have to be a little selfish every once in a while. This time, I'll let it pass."
They shared a smile and then leaned in for another kiss.
Suddenly, something jumped onto their legs, startling them. Drake was shocked to see that it was Damian's pet black cat Alfred. It meowed at them and then just sat between them, pressing down the blanket.
"Alfred? What the devil are you doing all the way down here?" Tim asked, as if the cat could actually respond.
Tim often referred to Alfred as Devil Cat, because he acted a lot like Damian and would always annoy him. He would be doing some research on the Batcomputer, or something else, and how he managed to get into a secured area Tim did know, he would bother him. Once he had jumped onto the console of the Batcomputer and erased some important work he spent all afternoon compiling. Another time, he had found cat vomit on the floor of his room, the door had even been locked.
Wayne Manor had hidden passages everywhere. Tim even had his own secret path down to the Batcave in his room, a secret ladder built into a back closest. He often used it to come down to the Batcave late at night to work, and didn't want anyone to know. But there was no way Alfred would use that entrance to get down. It had an iron ladder, so it would be a straight drop for him. And besides, the closest door was always shut, so nothing and no one could accidentally get in.
Cats had ways of getting into places that humans could not. Alfred, the cat, had found his way down to the Batcave numerous times without the use of the staircase in the Study or the secret elevator. Tim searched for any other entry way from the surface to the cave, other than his own room, but he failed to find anything of substance, that was not secured. But cats always found ways.
Steph called him, and Alfred crawled up to Steph and into her arms. For a brief moment, the cat seemingly stuck out its tongue at Tim, as if it was a taunt. He wouldn't put it passed Damian if he trained the cat to mock him.
Alfred nestled his head under her chin and began to purr.
"Maybe he came down after Alfred?" Steph wondered. "I find it funny that Damian would name him after Pennyworth. He's so personable and likeable. Often animals take on the characteristics of their owners or vice versa, but I don't see any of that with him."
"Oh, trust me…this cat can be a real pest, just like his owner," Tim said irked, with a hint of jealousy. The cat was now taking away attention that should be meant for him. "Many a time, I've had it interfere in what I'm doing at the moment, and even—"
Alfred sneezed, and right in Tim's face. Tim wiped his face with a hand. "See what I mean? He hates me. You have no idea what this cat is capable of, how spiteful he can be. I swear he should've been named Lucifer after his demonic keeper."
Alfred seemed to smack his teeth with his tongue much like Damian did when frustrated. It sounded like 'Tt'. Or maybe a tiny hiss?
The cat brushed his head under Steph's chin and neck in loving affection. "Oh, c'mon Tim, you're exaggerating. He's cute."
"No, he's not. Shoo, you degenerate feline! This is my time!"
"Don't be jealous, Tim. Or, I won't let you pet my feline equivalent."
"Blackmail 'cos of a black cat, eh?" Tim pouted.
Just then, Alfred hissed and quite violently in Tim's direction, his mouth opened wide, and his fangs out.
Tim put up his hands defensively, and said, "Whoa, whoa! Okay, I'm sorry!"
Alfred then wiggled out of Steph's hold, jumped down, and for some reason, came to stand guard before them, his back turned to them, looking into the darkness at an unlit part of the cave system. He then hissed again, mean, and very protectively. Alfred's heckles and back fur arched erect and his claws emerged. Cats could see in the dark. What did Alfred see?
Tim sharply turned, and suddenly saw a bright flash. It struck his vision, temporarily blinding him. Then a small speck of light emerged and became constant, as if a star in the night sky. But this was no constellation object, it was a light from a cell phone.
"Who is that? You the hell are you? Damian? If that's you, I'm going to hit you so hard that Bruce is going to agree…"
He stopped himself and rationalized. If it was Damian, then Alfred wouldn't be hissing at him. Damian's cat was very upset.
Steph immediately grabbed her clothes and began to dress. Tim got on one knee, but used part of the blanket to cover himself.
Steph passed him his underwear, but he didn't have time to put it on, as a childish-kind of voice, not unlike Harley Quinn, suddenly said from behind the light: "Enigmatic as it seems, a person unidentified is a mystery." It was a female voice, the words cryptic in nature.
Tim thought he knew the voice and he couldn't believe it.
Edward Nygma's daughter, Enigma, emerged from the darkness, basking partially in the lantern's light. Then she turned her cell phone light on herself, and made it appear she was a ghostly spirit from an other-worldly realm, darkness and light, illuminating her pale face, as if playing a practical joke. But it was beyond funny. It was damn right frightening that she was even here.
Enigma came further into the light as Tim quickly slipped on his underwear.
Then he got to her feet and readied himself into a protective stance in front of Steph.
From what Tim could see, the villainess wore a sleeveless green shirt with a large yellow Question Mark on the front, with vertical stripped yellow/green leg tights, and dark boots and gloves, with an eye mask. It was an eclectic ensemble to say the least.
Her hair was orange/blonde dyed, fiery-like, and was tied into side pigtails, curled into question marks, with miniature earrings in her lobes, to most likely symbolize the dot at the end of a question mark. Behind her back, in a holster of sorts, was a Q-Staff like her father's, and tucked in the front of her tights near her pelvic region was a gun. In her hand was her personal phone.
"Timothy Drake and Stephane Brown, sittin' in a tree…F…(you)…(see)…('kay)…(eye)…N…(gee)." Enigma snickered, putting a hand to her mouth. "Well, not a tree, per se, but you were sprouting some really hard wood there."
"When did you break out of jail?" Tim demanded. "How the hell did you get in here?"
"For the first part, I can thank my Pops for helping me with the parole board. I'm fully reformed, according to my therapist. With a little persuasive blackmail, that is. He shouldn't have boinked his secretary if he didn't want his wife to know. As for being here, I followed your little kitty-cat, of course," she said, childishly. "Kitty knows all the best hiding places."
Tim knew Riddler's Daughter acted kiddish, and embroiled in antics of her own design, deadly as they were—she had been known to have killed a few people—and she was as deadly as 'bad girls' came. She was somewhat intelligent like her father, but she acted more like a thug, and Nygma had to scold her for being too immature and too impulsive at times, when witnessed. Sometimes those who did not have the proper restraint were the worse to deal with.
"I also came with others," she continued, "but things got too boring too fast and I wanted to play. So, I wandered around, and then saw kitty running out of the Study, and followed him. There are so many twists and turns in this place and hidden passages that could make you get lost. Quite riddlesome! But I solved the puzzle."
Tim's eyes widened. "Others? Is your father here, too?"
"Yup, and some other man I only just recently met. Kind of mean looking and he showed me his nasty burn scars. Yuck!" Enigma mused. "I forget his name at the moment, but I think it rhymes with candles?"
Tim quickly thought about words that rhymed with candles, but it didn't take long for him to come up with a name. "Handles?"
Enigma pointed. "Yup, that's the one!"
Tim wasn't one to swear, but the words left his mouth involuntarily.
"But you said he was dead?" this came from Steph.
"I did, or so I thought." Tim had told her about Jake Handles and what had happened on Treasure Island, after he had heard the entire story from Dick, since he had not been on the island like the others. "Then how the hell did he live?" she asked.
Enigma shrugged, and answered, as if the question was directed at her instead of Tim. "Dunno, he never told me," she said. "All I know is that he gave all of us some lovely new technology that helped us waltz right into the party, disguising us to look like others on the guest list. We kidnapped those people that were on the list—we had the list in advance, a spy—and tricked everyone at the party that we were these people. Pretty cool, eh?"
"Yeah, cool…" Tim frowned. "What did you do with the guests? Is everyone safe?"
"Don't worry about them, they're okay. Worry 'bout yourself." Enigma slipped her cell phone into a pocket of her leg tights, then pulled out the gun. She pointed it collectively at both Tim and Steph. "Better get dressed, 'cos we're gonna for a walk."
Steph, now fully dressed, handed Tim his pants and he put them on. She then gave him his shirt and jacket. He put them on, but didn't button them and left them open. He stuffed his tie and socks in a jacket side-pocket, slipping on his shoes. Being completely presentable after what Enigma had seen was not a priority.
They then both raised their hands in surrender.
Without warning, Alfred ran and lunged at Enigma. Steph cried out for him to stop, but cat's often had a mind of their own, especially Damian's cat, and he kept going. He went after Enigma's gun hand, jaws wide and fangs poised, like a wild cat about to attack its pray, claws ejected.
But Enigma whacked Alfred out of the air with a slap from the back of her free hand. He hit the ground and bounced, then lay still. Normally, cats landed on their feet when they fell off-balanced. But Alfred looked to have hit awkwardly.
Steph ignored the threat of Enigma and immediately ran to Alfred's side, Tim quickly edged over to protect her from Enigma's aim, extending his arms out like a shield. Steph picked Alfred up and cradled him in her arms.
"Is he all right?" Tim asked, actually concerned.
"Yes, he's breathing," Steph replied. "He's just been knocked out. But I don't see any outwardly wounds."
"Anyone who does that to an animal is sick beyond reason," Tim then said, looking at Enigma. "But we all know who your father is—the infamous Edward Nygma, the Riddler."
Enigma cocked her head. "Funny, I never told you who my father is, but you seem familiar with him." She mused. "You're about his height and weight. Yes, of course, you have to be Red Robin. Being down here, I should've clued in sooner. But there are just so many of you heroes running around that unmasking you all is a riddle and a half. Fine, keep the cat. Bring him with us. If he awakes, keep him in line or else I'll shoot him. But before we go, answer me this: When is a kitty not a cat?"
Tim knew he should know this, but his brain was more concerned with the situation than solving riddles. "I give. What's the answer?"
Enigma reached into the other pocket of her tights and pulled out a wrapped chocolate bar. "When it's a Kit-Kat—get it?" Tim rolled his eyes. She eyed him with contempt. "C'mon, that was a good riddle. Lighten up! Jeez!"
"Technically, that was not a riddle," Tim said. "But that was the lamest joke I have ever heard in my life!"
She frowned. "You Bat-people have absolutely no sense of humour." She was able to unwrap it with a single hand, which was an interesting feat, then took a bite. "Oh, so good! Chocolate is my favourite. Now, you two move! Time to take you to Pops."
Steph walked out of the cave area first with Alfred in her arms, followed by Tim, as the gun-toting Enigma lead them from behind.
To be continued...
