Chapter 51

I'm sitting down at my desk at the GCPD doing paperwork when one of the other officers walks up to me, "Hey Officer K, a Barbara Kean is here to see you."

I raise an eyebrow, what is she, of all people, doing here? I get up from my desk and walk over to the entrance where Barbara is sitting on a bench.

"Natalie, I'm so glad I could catch you on your shift," she smiles in her usual light voice. She coughs before continuing, "Look, I just came here to apologize for V and the others back at the art gallery. She can be critical sometimes, but she didn't mean to be cruel."

"Uhuh," I nod, it's going to take more than an apology to forgive her, but it's a start.

She moves a lock of blond hair from her face, "So, how's Peter?"

"He's...alright," of course I don't mention the fact that I comforted him with sex...but I'll spare her the details.

"He didn't take the whole thing too hard, right?"

If her definition of "taking it too hard" doesn't involve him petting me like a cat in the bathtub and talking about making Veronica Vreeland "grovel at her feet"...yeah, he didn't take it too bad.

"He can be a bit...sensitive at times, but he'll recover, I'm sure," I tell her.

"Well, if I don't see him, tell him that I'm so, so sorry about what happened," she looks around, "where is Peter anyway?"

"Barbara, what are you doing here?" Gordon appears from the side.

"Jim, you know Natalie, right? I saw her last night with Peter at the gallery I was featured in, you know, the one you couldn't go to because of work-"

He shifts his head rapidly from me to Barbara, "Wait, she was with...'Peter'?"

Oh no...he must know that "Peter" is actually Oswald, by the way he reacted.

"Yeah, she and Peter are good friends, at least, that's what they say," Barbara smiles, crossing her arms and winking.

Gordon places his hand on Barbara's shoulder, "I'll see you tonight, I need to talk to Natalie for a bit."

Her smile fades as she realizes she's said something she shouldn't have. Gordon leads me out of the office area and into one of the side hallways.

The moment we're out of view, he throws me against the nearest wall, startling some nearby officers, who quickly leave the area.

"I knew you couldn't be trusted! You're here to spy for Falcone, or Fish, or Oswald, any of them! Who're you working for?!" Gordon hisses, keeping his voice low even as he pins me against the wall.

I look up at him, my dark brown eyes shaped like daggers as I stare him down, "...first of all, why would Falcone or Fish need a spy within the police? They own the police. And Oswald? Heh, I thought he had you-"

He slams me into the wall again, the hard wood of the building impacting against my head, "Answer me! Who sent you here?! If you know about Oswald, then you know something-"

"Detective," a crisp, nasal voice calls. It's Ed, standing at the end of the hall with his hands folded together, "I suggest you put Officer K down."

"Ed, stay out of this," Gordon commands, tightening his grip on my shoulders.

Ed cocks his head almost mechanically, "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Detective. You see, Natalie is a close, personal friend of mine, we've known each other a very long time. If you find her untrustworthy, I can testify that I'd trust her with my life."

He swivels his head to me. His hostile expression reflects that he still doesn't trust me, not for one second. But he does trust Ed, whatever his reason may be, and so he releases his grip, allowing me to slide back to the ground.

"You better not be wrong about her Ed," Gordon warns him, as he marches back to the main precinct area.

Ed shuffles toward me, and I reach up to hug him, "Thanks Ed."

He scrunches his shoulders to hug me back, "Don't mention it, ol' buddy, ol' pal."

I meet Batwoman on the roof of the Wayne Industries building, completely dressed in my Trickstress costume. I notice something is different about her costume today, her mask no longer covers her entire head, but instead just her eyes, revealing light skin and full red hair.

"I'm liking the new look," I comment, walking up next to her.

"Yeah, the full face cover was annoying, and I like how you have just the mask, so forgive me for copy-catting."

I shrug, "It's not a problem, maybe I should copy you and get a cape."

She chuckles, twirling her cape around, "This was constructed from the remains of a Green Lantern costume replica, so the cape is a leftover from that. It's not very practical, but it sort of fits the bat monicker, and it looks very flashy when I see my picture in the papers."

Sirens wail in the distance, with the reflection of police lights visible on the bottom of several high-rises below.

"Wow, that's convenient, guess the crime's just coming to us tonight." Batwoman figures. "Oh yeah, here, I got you something."

She hands me a grappling gun, just like the one she has. I examine it, it's military grade, similar to the ones I've used in the CIA. But how could a civilian get their hands on something like this?

Regardless, I thank her anyway, and she follows up with, "Do you need me to show you how to use it?"

I shake my head, "Nope, and besides, we're letting that crime slip past us."

I fire the grappling gun to the next building over and leap off, holding onto it tightly. Just as I reach the base of the building, I press the button and the hook retracts, zipping me up to the roof.

I turn around and Batwoman has her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow, before she follows suit. Below, two police cars are pursuing a getaway vehicle that's speeding off past them, and us as well.

"We'll never catch up to them at this rate," I shout to her over the blare of sirens.

The street narrows as the buildings become closer together. We're able to jump from rooftop to rooftop in a single bound, but the car chase draws further and further away. Looking across the street, I suddenly get a crazy idea. Using the grappling gun, I fire it across the street until it hooks onto the nearest building. Drawing toward the edge of the rooftop, I grasp the hook tightly before leaping off, swinging through the air.

"Are you crazy?!" Batwoman cries as I fly through the air.

"How else are we going to catch up to them?!" I shout as I reach the other end of the street.

I retract the hook, but then immediately reach out and fire it again, keeping myself in a perpetual motion. I turn around and see that Batwoman's followed suit, but just as she reaches the other building, she loses grip on her gun, falling to the street below.

I give my own grappling gun a firm tug, forcing it free from the building. I straighten out my body, plummeting to the ground at a much faster rate than her. Diving toward her, I tackle into her, grabbing ahold of her before launching my grappling gun back up onto a nearby building. We rise back up to the roof, and I put her down carefully while she holds her hand against her eyes, "My mask, I lost my mask..."

I gasp as I realize her red hair has tilted to the side; it's a wig. Under her wig is a full head of blond hair. She peeks from behind her hand and immediately turns her head away. Through the brief glimpse I got of her, my eyes widen at the realization of her identity.

"Barbara…?" I murmur, pressing my hands to my lips in shock.

She can barely hear me over the roar of the city noise, but she still recognizes her name, and removes her hand away, "How...how do you know who I am?"

Should I reveal my identity? I probably should avoid it if I can.

"I've seen your picture in the papers. You're an artist, right?"

She sighs, "Yes, I am. I'm also the heiress to the Kean fortune. It's no Wayne foundation, but it's enough that most people never expected me to work a day in my life. It's how I got my costume, all the gadgets, the car...I mean, what else am I going to do with my money? Even charity is corrupt in Gotham, and my family already has to give a certain amount every year to keep good public relations. So I seek thrills. Before it was alcohol, drugs, pills...but even that wasn't enough. Then I saw news reports of that Balloon Man guy and I thought, why can't I do that? I could be like those heroes you see in films and on radio dramas. And...I like it. I can't describe why but...it's fulfilling."

I nod my head, I know how she feels, that need to feel like what you're doing has impact, that you're making a difference.

We sit down on the edge of the roof for the rest of the night, talking. Guess Gotham will just have to do without Batwoman and the Trickstress tonight.

"Ugh...poor Jim, he's my fiance. He must think I'm going crazy, he doesn't know...he has no idea," Batwoman laments, looking down at the busy street below.

"Why do you say that?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "Well, now that I've seen crime firsthand...and the things that some of these criminals can do...I'm worried for him because he's a detective on the police force. Maybe I'm just in shock because, well, I never realized how sheltered and blessed my life has been. But, you know, it's Jim. He has much more experience than I do, and I trust him to handle himself...it's just other people I don't trust. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I admit. I remember when Ed and I were in school, I was constantly having to protect him. We were joined at the hip not only because I liked him, but because I was worried something would happen to him...again. Even when he had his growth spurt and shot a foot above me, he could never hold his own in a fight.

The night comes to a close and I say goodbye to Batwoman as we part ways. With my new grappling gun, getting home is so much easier, and I get in some extra training maneuvering around the city with it.

I swing in through the window by the fire escape. The apartment is unusually quiet, I'd assumed Oswald would be back from work by now. My costume is zipped into a small backpack with a lock on it. I keep the key in my jewelry box, safely hidden among the bracelets, necklaces, and Oswald's pearls. As I put the key away, I hold up the pearls in my hand. There's a very good chance that these are fake, but it's the thought that counts.

I sit down on the bed, wondering about Barbara, aka Batwoman. What drove her to become a vigilante? Certainly she has the resources to do so, she's rich after all. But don't the rich have better things to do than run around in a costume to fight crime? Then again, so do I, but I have a specific goal. Mark Batwoman for tracking, that's all. I only got involved in the crime-fighting shenanigans through her, and besides, that's practically my job anyway. But if there's one thing I agree with her with, it's that crime-fighting does give me a strange sense of satisfaction, and I do have the proper training to do something like that. But then again, I already have so much on my plate already, perhaps I should just keep it as a hobby.

"Trixie, I'm home," Oswald's mild voice calls out from the living room.

I walk into the living room to meet him and I immediately pull him into a hug, "It's good to have you home."

I'll admit, it's sad when Oswald becomes my source of comfort, but right now, he's just about the most normal thing in my life.

Author's Note:

Lola93091: Thanks, in reading the chapter that comes after this, I realized that revealing Oswald's motives are going to be pretty important. It will pay off, just wait and see ;)

Fuchsia Grasshopper: Yeah, I needed a zinger to end on, although I honestly wouldn't put it past Oswald to try and kill her. And I created that scene specifically to address some of the reasons why Oswald often confuses obsession for love (his lack of exposure to healthy relationships, his mother, etc.). As for Natalie being able to handle Oswald, it's like Amanda said: Natalie's good at managing chaos

Thanks! :)