I neither own nor created Batman/Bruce Wayne, Dr. Leslie Thomkins, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucius Fox, or Dead-Shot. I did create Madge, Evelyn Ainsley, Lenny Nails, and "Chuckles" Charles.
This story is for entertainment purposes only, so please read and be entertained.
"You could have told me."
Leslie smiled. Madge blinked. The Doc's expression was softer than she'd ever seen it before. She managed to look somewhat ashamed of herself while she answered.
"If I had, you may have come to conclusions based solely on his sex. I hoped this way you wouldn't be gone before he arrived." Her eyes grew sharp as they met Madge's. "Did he do anything unprofessional?"
The other woman shook her head.
"All that happened was I learned how to make a bed so a quarter will bounce on it and where you keep your roaster."
"Would you be against the continuation of your lessons with him?"
Madge shrugged.
"Guess not. How long would that 'continuation' last? When he's through teaching me, am I going to stay here and be your live-in maid?"
"You can leave whenever you wish, but I would like you to take something with you when you do."
Madge spun away from the sink with furrowed eyebrows.
"What?"
Leslie raised a fork to the light and examined it.
"When we've finished these dishes, I'll take you up to my room and show you."
. . .
Lenny Nails and Chuckles Charles entered their boss' office with wide grins. Their boss looked up with a scowl. Both underlings let their faces fall, somewhat. Charles rotund stomach still puffed out as he spoke.
"Hey boss, we got the babe-bait pegged. All she's missing is a little halo and cherub wings."
Lenny nodded.
"Real, sweetheart. The Bat's sure to bite."
Their boss leaned back in his chair and fixed narrowed eyes upon them.
"Tell him who to talk to and 'Undertaker' will make the negotiations."
Lenny blew out a mouthful of smoke.
"Has the out-of-towner picked out a spot?"
The "Boss" leaned back in his chair with a glare. "He hasn't contacted us, yet. If he doesn't by tomorrow, we'll have to find him."
. . .
Dead-Shot strolled through Gotham Park. He grinned at every passerby before raising his eyes back up to study the buildings surrounded the location. He sighed.
For all its sweet, picturesque, highbrow charm there was no interesting shot potential. Gazebos, restrooms, and the occasional food and souvenir stands were the only structures in the area. Trees and bushes were too thick in some areas, even for him, while others were boringly exposed. Onto the next tourist trap.
. . .
Madge blinked at the open store boxes. She kept expecting them to disappear, or for herself to wake up, one of those two. Leslie gazed at the same open boxes on her bed, trying not to smile.
"Since I've been your physician these last few weeks I thought I could guess your size with a fair amount of accuracy. Of course you'll have to try them on to be sure."
Madge reached down and picked the blouse up with the tips of her thumbs and forefingers. She held it up two feet from her face.
"Am I paying you back for these through my cleaning services?"
"Not unless you wish to. If you do leave leave this job, these may be of help finding another."
Madge turned to her host with raised eyebrows.
"You think I can get a job where I'd have to wear these."
"At least for the interview process. Does the idea displease you?"
Madge turned back to the blouse with a twisted smile.
"Amuse is more like it."
. . .
Bruce gazed at the plans of Ainsley manor. Lucius studied them from the other side of the table with a grin.
"Evie says she'll be glad to help. But, she wants to meet each of the girls first."
"Did she say what she would and would not tolerate?"
"She says while she's not overly attached to her property, turning a blind eye to the theft would be against her principles. She also says she can forgive ignorance, but not laziness. And she'd appreciate it if Alfred could train them to be half as good as he is before she takes them on."
Bruce nodded. His partner's smile widened.
"It does fill the gap in the plans." Lucius looked up from the papers. His gaze fixed on the other man. "She asked about you."
Bruce's eyes snapped up to meet Lucius'.
"What did you say?"
"I told her I knew you were fine, but couldn't say any more than that."
Bruce's gaze fell back to the papers.
"Thank you."
"She said you took after her, blood or no. Disappear whenever you want and leave everyone hanging. She also says she'd like to see her 'nephew' again before she leaves this world."
Bruce raised a pair of narrowed eyes to the businessman. They didn't fool the business man at all. He stared right back. Bruce lowered his gaze back to the papers.
"At the optimal time, Lucius."
. . .
"So, this is what a woman in the work force is supposed to look like."
Madge examined her reflection while Leslie turned the collar of the blouse down in the back. Miss Thompson then pulled the other woman's mass of red curls back. She looked over her guest's shoulder and into the mirror as well. The older woman nodded. Then the doctor swept the mass of hair into a twist and attempted to hide it behind Madge's head.
"I was able to accurately guess your size . But I believe we'll have to find a professional style for your hair."
Madge gave the mirror an amused smile. She felt like a girl playing dress up at a slumber party. Only most little girls didn't dress up in a white blouse that buttoned up all the way to the neck, and a gray jacket with matching dress pants.
"This doesn't double as my maid's outfit?"
"No. If you work for a service they'll likely have their own uniform for you, but I don't recommend that."
"Why not?"
"They could send you anywhere, and you can run into anybody. The same goes for working at a hotel."
"Guess I could be here working for you for a while then."
Madge ran her hand over the material wondering how much it had cost the woman behind her and if she should stay and work it off or just ditch it if she left. Leslie turned and began to gather up the cardboard boxes and tissue paper off her bed.
"For a few weeks of further training with Mr. Pennyworth at least. Unless you have any concerns."
Madge turned on the other woman with a mock scowl.
"I had plenty of concerns when he first showed up, thanks to your holding out on a few bits of info." The redhead turned back to the mirror and shrugged. "But if all he does is teach me like he did yesterday, all I'll do is learn."
"I've only known him to do what is asked in the best way it can be done."
Madge turned sideways to watch the woman behind her.
"How is it you know so many good people, doc?"
Leslie's hand paused in mid-reach for the last box top on her bedspread. A corner of her mouth twitched. Her eyes shone with more moisture than usual. Then she snatched the last box and placed it atop the stack in her other arm.
"I don't know as many as I used to."
. . .
Dead Shot gazed down from Wayne Tower. The tallest building in Gotham did provide an excellent view. He studied the skyline.
Lots of buildings with big windows. However, all these windows looked into were furnished offices, apartments, waiting rooms, ect. All these were places it just wouldn't do to leave bait. Same for most of the busy streets and grandiose statues. Too many people to notice. The bait would draw more than his prize if left within a mile of here.
. . .
The doorbell rang. This time, when the reverberation reached her Madge only started slightly. She now knew better than to have her sketch book out. She strode to the door, glanced out its peephole, and pulled it open.
He stood on the doorstep exactly as he had before. Either all of his outfits looked the same or he had washed, dried, and ironed the clothes from his last visit to wear again today. Madge stepped aside with an amused smile. Alfred Pennyworth stepped through the doorway.
"Good Morning, Miss Robertson."
As her instructor hung up his hat and jacket, Madge closed the door behind him.
"What are we doing today, Teach?"
Mr. Pennyworth had finished rolling up his right sleeve and began to do the same with his left.
"I thought we'd go over our last lessons, and if we still have time, I will show you the basics of polishing silver."
"Sounds like a wild time."
. . .
The ferry chugged towards the far shore and Bludhaven. To the right rose the alternative means of crossing the river, Blood Bridge. The structure looked far too beautiful for its menacing name just then. Against the purple and blue sky of the evening shone the lights of dozens of cars speeding across. Trellis supports held the suspension lines in place, a web of bars in empty space. Deadshot stared at them from the bridge of the boat.
. . .
The young woman paused to remove her high heels before walking up the stone stairs. Alice's eyes softened as she remembered the way Samson had looked at her when she put on the first pair of shoes he'd bought her. Then she winced as her foot met the ground. The young woman pinned on a grin and bounced up to the doorstep.
Samson had called the club and said he wanted to see her right away. Her heart sang with relief. He'd been happy the day after he got back from the hospital, but then had gotten upset just a few days later when someone saw the Batman again. He'd been grumpy after that. There had been some yelling, and throwing things, and . . .
She froze midway through turning the doorknob. Then she shook her head. He'd just been angry. He was over it now.
How else could he feel when Madge had just disappeared like that? Samson said she left on a job for him and just hadn't come back since. Alice tossed her head. She would never do something like that. And Samson knew she would never do something like that.
She twisted the knob and shoved it open. The light stung her eyes. Her blue eyes blinked as she trotted down the hall. She froze in front of the kitchen. Her shoes clattered to the floor.
There was Samson. He had his bottle and shot glass like every night. But he wasn't sitting were he could watch the doorway like he always did.
Two men were watching it, watching her, instead. They flanked the sides of the table. Both of them smiled at her. That was good. So, why did she shiver?
She looked back at Samson. He was leaning back against the end of the table farthest from her. He was sitting in one chair and resting his feet on the other. His scotch bottle was sitting next to his turned back. His hand paused as he raised a full glass to his lips.
"Come on in, sweetheart."
Alice sucked in a breath. Her bare feet took her step by tiny step in through the doorway. She straightened her back and flashed the men a friendly grin. Samson told her she was beautiful when she grinned that way.
"Can I get anything for anyone?"
Samson didn't move. A cold sensation crawled up her back. Was he angry after all?
She took another step toward the table. Then she paused. Finally, Samson emptied his glass and raised his voice.
"Do you gentlemen need something before you leave?"
The man on the right shook his head.
"No, thanks Sam. We just have time to pick her up and go tonight."
The cold chill stopped crawling and shot up her spine. She started to shake.
"Me?"
Samson stared at the bottom of his empty glass.
"Yep."
The men were smirking at her now. Her muscles tightened to run, but she couldn't run. Running away from him did make Sam angry. She clasped her hands together to make them stop trembling.
She wasn't scared by men anymore, not really. She was over that. She'd been with four men just that night. What were two more? If only they would look like they wanted . . . that.
Anyway, Samson would tell her what was going on in a moment. She stared at his back. He reached back and picked up his scotch bottle without looking.
She swallowed. He'd answer if she asked. He hadn't sounded angry. His shoulders weren't bunched up like they did when he was grumpy. She breathed out, and smiled wider.
"Is everything OK?"
He pulled something out of his pocket held it up. A wad of cash was pinched in his fingertips. This time she could hear the smile in his voice.
"Things are great for me."
The two men started walking towards her. She took half a step back from them.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Samson shrugged.
"Not really, but I was offered a good deal." A chuckle shook his shoulders.
"It included revenge on the Bat."
One of the men lunged at her. His arms wrapped around both of hers and pinned them. He lifted her in a bruising grip. Her feet left the floor. Then he began to back them both towards the doorway.
Samson still wasn't looking. She stared at him. She began shaking her head from side to side.
"Sam, Sam please! Please turn around! Sam where am I going?"
He still didn't turn around. He lifted his shot glass to his lips and drank its contents in one gulp. Maybe that meant he felt bad.
She tried to dig her throbbing heels into the floor. They entered the hallway. The bruised, cracked skin screamed as they met the wooden boards.
What could she say to at least make him turn around? If he just saw her face, he wouldn't do this.
"Sam! Sam please! Please! I love you! Please look at me! Just look at me! Please!"
His head never moved. His shoulders never bunched. His hand didn't shake as he refilled the shot glass. Then she was beyond the doorway. She couldn't see him anymore.
What had she done?
They took her out the door and closed it. She screamed louder. The man holding her put a hand over her mouth.
No, no he'd come after her. He would. He had to. He loved her. But what if these men did something to her first?
What had she done to make him this angry? What had she done to make him stop loving her? Who would protect her now?
I'm sorry this update took so long. I got writer's block working on this and the upcoming chapter. I reread and updated the first three chapters in hopes of relieving the block and better pleasing new readers. Then Christmas got closer and real life got crazier. Then I got a job and whoo boy! I wish I could promise the next chapter will be up soon, but I really can't. Please forgive me. :(
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