Chapter 83
I find my motorbike parked in a dark alleyway, just as Veronica promised. On top of my outfit, my motorbike has also been updated, with a built-in radio set. Wow, where does she get the time to do th-...oh yeah, I almost forgot, the idle rich.
I mount the bike and turn her on, speeding off within seconds. The radio buzzes to life, and Veronica's voice comes in.
"Natalie darling, I'm looking at the cameras you and Barbara placed around the house, and it looks like she's in the kitchen, with several men and a woman."
A woman? Could that be…
"Does she have a bombshell hairdo and a homely dress?" I ask, leaning down so that my voice can reach the radio microphone.
I take a sharp turn right as Veronica replies, "Why, yes, she does. Certainly doesn't look like the burly men in suits surrounding poor Babs. And...she's baking as well! Muffins, it looks like."
Liza...it's a shame she had to get tied up in this. Although, she is a child of the streets, so sadly, this shouldn't be anything new.
The driveway of Don Falcone's mansion is empty by the time I arrive. Thank goodness, I beat them here, I guess going eighty miles per hour on a motorbike helps.
I dismount my motorbike, leaving it parked under a nearby tree. There are no guards in front, maybe they're all inside. I grappling hook up to the roof, where I scale to the other side and drop down onto the second floor balcony. I open the glass doors leading to another bedroom. Who lives here besides Don Falcone himself?
The only source of light in the room comes from the clouded sunlight streaming in from the glass doors, leaving just enough light to see. The room is strewn with toys, the ground laiden with soft carpet, the bed purple and shaped to look like a butterfly. Don Falcone...has a child? Or maybe a grandchild?
On top a child-sized bookshelf, I spot a wooden toy horse, with a red saddle and stirrup painted on. I pick it up, I had a similar toy when I was a kid. Mom crafted it for me out of a piece of firewood, it wasn't professionally made as this one appears to be. Still, it's nice to be reminded of a happy moment…
"You shouldn't be here," a young female voice calls out.
I whip around to find a girl, no older than twelve or thirteen. She's only a little shorter than me, in a flowy purple satin dress that looks more suited for a toddler than a teenager.
"Look kid, I don't want to hurt you, just stay quiet, and everything-"
"Wait...are you the Trickstress?" the girl asks.
Well...I didn't expect her to recognize me. I guess the papers have been circulating my picture around more than I thought.
"Why...yes, yes I am."
"Where's Batwoman? I wanna meet Batwoman!" she declares, raising her voice.
Shoot, I've got to keep this girl under control, at least until I can get out the door, "Uhm...I'm sorry sweetie, Batwoman isn't here right now. She's on a very important mission an-"
"Guards! Help! Intruder!" she cries, almost screaming.
I scowl, "You little bitch," before racing out the door.
Three armed guards rush into the girl's room, "Sofia, where is he?! Where's the intruder?!"
"She went out the door, that way," the girl, Sofia, points left.
One guard stays in her room while the other two march out into the hallway and turn left. From the closet at the end of the hall, I watch as the two men enter the first two rooms in search. One of the men leaves his room first, and walks up to the closet. He turns to enter the room to the side of it, but I open up the closet door and trip the man. He falls to the floor and I grab him by the leg and drag him into the closet. Punching sounds come from the closet, which quickly fade into silence. The other man exits his room.
"What's all that racket?!" he shouts, having heard the noises.
His eyes fall onto the closet, and he raises his Tommy gun at the closet and opens fire on it, until the entire door is covered in bullet holes. Lowering the steaming gun, the henchman begins to approach the closet door. The guard kicks the door open, the door now in shambles, to reveal the other guard on the closet floor, bleeding from several bullet wounds. As the guard gets down on one knee to inspect the other guard, I jump out from behind the fallen guard, tackling the other. Punching him in the face a couple of times until he falls unconscious, I glance up at the stairway leading to the lower floors. The stairway is surrounded by a domed rooftop, with windows saddled above ledges.
More guards rush up the stairs, but they only find an empty hallway, save the two guards dumped on top of the smashed in closet door.
From the upstairs ledges, I sit perched on the space between the roof and the window. As the men start searching the upstairs rooms, I wait for them to clear out so I can sneak down to the first floor. As I wait, I crack the window open just a bit. It looks like these windows open up a fair bit, enough for a person to slide through.
When the coast is clear, I jump down from the ledge, landing silently on the stairs. From there, I scamper down to the first floor, and round the corner to the kitchen. Barbara is tied up to one of the stools at the breakfast bar, and Liza is in the corner. When she sees me, she grabs a kitchen knife and runs towards me. Flipping out one of my own knives, I presume a battle stance and cross my arm in front of me. I deflect her knife with my own and punch her in the stomach. With the tip of my blade, I knock the knife out of her hand and push her into the breakfast bar. She falls to the ground, her nose dripping with blood. I bite my lip, I wanted to go easy on her, but at the same time I needed to subdue her. Hopefully she's okay.
I untie Barbara, and rip off the duct tape gagging her.
"So...I take it getting Jim wasn't an option, huh?" she asks, massaging her wrists, large red marks where the rope that had tied her up.
Her Batwoman suit gone, Barbara is now dressed in a modest blouse, pencil skirt, and high heels. Don Falcone and the Court of Owls are trying to hide her identity, but why? Because they want her to become a member, and this is their way of incentivising her?
"More like he jumped the gun before I could even get to him. He's on his way with his partner, Harvey Bullock to rescue you," I inform her.
She sighs, "Awe, Jim...he's so sweet."
We try the back kitchen door, but it's locked shut, almost to the point of being bolted. Behind us, there's another door. Peeking through the glass window, it appears to lead to a back staircase leading up. We could make our escape from the upper floor! Barbara tries the door, and while it's locked as well, it's not nearly as sturdy as the other door.
"Got a knack for picking locks?" she asks me.
Marching over to the kitchen counter, I open up a couple of drawers until I find a silver fork, "I've never been good at it without proper tools, but I could try."
As I stick the fork in, knocking it around the keyhole, Barbara stands by, folding her arms, "Uhm...while I was, you know, kidnapped, I saw something you should know about."
I glance up, "What?"
"...Peter was here."
That's right. Oswald was called away to see Don Falcone last night when Barbara was taken.
"What did he do?"
She shakes her head, "I...I'm not sure. All I saw was Peter walking with Don Falcone along the upstairs hallway. They were talking, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. Although it looked like Peter was a little too chummy with Falcone than he should be."
The door clicks, and creaks open. I smile, "Wah-la."
A banging sound comes from the other side of the mansion, and Barbara and I whip around, "Smooth entrance boys," we comment simultaneously.
"I'm going to check on the hostage," a familiar voice echos from across the hall.
Victor Zsasz marches into the kitchen, and spots me. With a sickening grin, he reaches behind him and draws his gun. Barbara lunges for him, grabbing at his gun from the side. The two of them hit against the kitchen breakfast bar, wrestling for the gun.
From behind, Liza grabs my ankle and trips me to the ground, my jaw hitting the linoleum floor. She grabs my neck with both hands and starts choking me out, making me lose my grip of the silver fork. I kick her in the knee, and grab her hair, yanking her off of me.
"Go!" Barbara commands, stepping on Zsasz's foot with her high heel, "Jim and I can handle this! You got into this because of me, I'm not letting you die because of it!"
Glancing at the unlocked door, I obey, racing up the stairs, slamming and locking the door behind me. As I lumber up the stairs, my ankle slightly sore from Liza tripping me to the ground, a conversation between Zsasz and Liza ensues.
"Well...aren't you going to go after her?!" she snaps, her soft, low voice still managing to hold an amount of menace.
"Falcone's orders...or rather, Penguin's orders, we keep her and Gordon alive," he grumbles.
There's the sound of a gun loading, "You move, and Kean or not, I'll shoot you."
"...who's 'Penguin'? Why does he want the Trickstress alive?" Barbara questions.
Zsasz chuckles, "Penguin's the limping creep in the tailored suit. As for why he wants the Trickstress alive? Beats me babe...I see her better off dead, especially if she's playing for Penguin."
Barbara gasps, "Oh my god…"
Their conversation cuts off as I make it to the top of the staircase and round the corner. I've arrived in a bedroom, similar to the others. Although it looks like this room is occupied, with articles of clothing strewn by the dresser and on the bed. I cross to the door, but it's locked. Another locked door? Not having a utensil on me, I begin searching the room for a tool or a key.
The dresser proves unhelpful, but in one of the vanity drawers, I find a mysterious book with a golden owl latch on the front. I snap the latch open, and the well-worn book unfolds before me. I few names I recognize:
Kean family, members from birth, Barbara unclarified
Vreeland family, Veronica only survivor, declined membership, knows little
Is this a membership roster for the Court of Owls? Are these the only names I know, or are there more? I flip to the back of the book, and find one more name:
Oswald Cobblepot, no familial relations to current members, immigrant (1st or 2nd generation?), one to watch, may offer membership down the line
Oswald, a member of the Court of Owls? If they're considering giving him membership, maybe he knows something about them. Veronica Vreeland should also be checked as well, even though it says here she knows very little. A little information goes a long way.
Next to the book is, unsurprisingly, a lighter. Of course, if anything were to go wrong, this book would be one of the first things destroyed. And...a bronze key. Putting the book back in its place, I pick up the key and unlock it, placing the key back in its place. When I return to the doorway, three guards are standing it the doorway.
I smirk, "...'scuse me boys."
I run at them, getting down and sliding under them. Getting up, I dash down the hallway until I reach the main stairway. Taking out my grappling gun, I shoot upwards, and fly up. The guards look up, but all they find is an open window by one of the ledges.
Tales from the Arkhamverse: A Matter of Family
Between the ridges of the south bridge, I watch as Gotham City fades into the distance, the bus bumping along the bridge road. As the bus exits the bridge, a green freeway sign says "Welcome to Bludhaven".
Bludhaven looks almost identical to Gotham, with tall, foreboding skyscrapers and dark clouds looming over the city.
Getting off of the bus not long after crossing the border into Bludhaven, I find an old, decrepit apartment building. Checking the address, I climb the stairs until I reach one of the apartment doors. I knock, but there's no response. I sigh, before kicking the door down.
"I would've gotten up and answered...eventually," a familiar voice mumbles from the dark, unlit apartment.
I feel around for a light switch, but when I find it, flipping it on does nothing.
"Don't bother Natalie, the building's electricity has been out for weeks now," she groans.
"What are you doing here Barbara?" I ask, "If you honestly want to live so close to Gotham then, why not just come home?"
"Come home to what? A husband who could care less...a daughter who doesn't even know I'm alive...not to mention the Court of Owls still wants me dead. I would be putting them all in jeopardy if I went home. That's why I chose Bludhaven, it's close to home, but far enough so that I can live under the radar."
I take a couple of steps into the apartment, mindful of the empty bottles of wine littered across the floor. A single streak of dull light comes through from a cracked open window, shining on the couch in the center of the living room. On the couch lies Barbara Kean, her blonde haired streaked with gray, clutching a bottle of wine in one hand.
"Do you still go out much?" I ask, sitting in a chair next to the couch.
She nods, "Yep. I see you've been getting out as well. Wearing the original suit again too. I know Veronica never liked the polka dots but...I did. Especially now, so many superheroes out there, you need to distinguish yourself."
I chuckle, "It's not about distinguishing myself, and besides, I have to wear the original suit because...well...it's all I have now."
"I say it's a miracle you still fit into that thing after all these years," Barbara points out, "I could never fit into my original suit now, especially after having kids."
There's a silence that pervades the room, as I look down at the floor, a stained rug with several bottles of wine and spreads of newspapers collecting by the couch. After taking a swig from her bottle, Barbara turns up and looks at me.
"So...how's everything? I heard you were in the Justice League for a while," she mentions.
"It was just a temporary arrangement while Batman was handling the Arkham incident. J'onn suggested it, of course Batman protested. Luckily, we barely saw each...he doesn't like my association with Ozzy, and I blame him for what happened to Ed...in our line of work, that's a pretty straightforward relationship, at least in comparison," I chuckle, keeping my hands in my lap.
"No kidding," Barbara pauses, "...what about Penguin? Aren't you two still seeing each other? Wouldn't the Justice League have a problem with that?"
I shake my head, "No Babs, trust me, the rules are much looser than when we were young. Batman has Catwoman, Hal Jordan has Carol Ferris, the list goes on. And besides, Ozzy's an informant to Batman."
"If you ask me, you two should tie the knot at this point. I mean, twenty years on-and-off won't do anything good for anyone's health, take it from me," she laughs, looking up at the ceiling.
"Oh, no, no, no...he and I have always been too...career focused to consider settling down."
Barbara sets down her bottle of wine, before sitting up, "So, let's cut to the chase...what do you need? You didn't track me down to this dump of a hiding place just to say hello."
I continue looking down at the floor, my hands folded in my lap, before looking up at Barbara, "It's about James Gordon-"
"Don't want anything to do with him," she interrupts.
"...Jr."
Barbara turns up her head, "He's alive?"
I nod, "Yep, and on another murder spree. Gordon's doing everything he can to track him down, but he can only do so much. Not to mention the Bat family have their hands full at the moment-"
"Look...I...I'd only bring trouble. You've always been a much more sophisticated crime-fighter than me, you could handle this, right?"
The sound of glass crashes as three figures break through the apartment windows.
"Talons!" I cry, sprinting into action.
I go directly for the first one, punching him in the side to throw him off-balance. Then getting in several jabs, I stop only to block another Talon coming in from behind, blocking his arm and turning around to grab the knife in his hand. I take the knife and stab him in the chest, causing him to fall to the ground. Barbara leaps over the couch and tackles one of the Talons into the next room, while I block the other's assaults. Finally, I sidestep his kick, and grab his leg, swinging him across the room. He trips over a wine bottle and falls onto the wooden floor. I grab another empty bottle from off of the floor, and stumbling over to the Talon, raise the bottle over his head, and strike down. The Talon catches my hands just in time, before overpowering me and wrestling me downwards. He grabs my neck with both hands, and I start to choke. I look above me and notice the open window where the Talon smashed through. With both feet, I kick up, throwing him off of me and hurling him out the window into the street below.
I race into the other room to find the final Talon passed out on the ground, and Barbara no where to be found.
"Damn."
On the bus ride back to Gotham, my cell phone goes off.
I answer, "Hello?"
"Natalie, how did the talk with Mom go?" Barbara Gordon's soft voice comes through.
"We...ran into a little trouble. I don't think she's ready to see you yet," I explain.
She sighs, "I'm just worried she'll be a target too. My brother has tried killing her before...what if she's not so lucky this time?"
"Don't worry Barbara, your mother can handle herself, trust me," I assure her.
"I know, I just...wish I could see her. Talk to her even. Dad's never given me a straight story about her. Is she my Mom, or my Aunt?"
"Honestly, I'm not even sure. She'd already quit the League of Superheroes by the time you were born, and she and Jim were on-and-off constantly...I...there was a lot going on back then," I reply.
Barbara's tone becomes informative and calculated, "Ah, yes, the original Justice League of America. It's hard to believe you and Mom were founders of such a monumental group."
I laugh, "Well, yes, although none of us had any idea what our little team would eventually turn into."
I look out the bus window just in time to see a flashing green question mark on one of the buildings. His signal.
"Barbara, I gotta go," I sputter, before abruptly hanging up.
With the bus on the edge of the bridge, overlooking the water, I open the window and jump out, diving head first into the waters. My grappling gun fires into the air, latching onto the top of the bridge, and by the time it's zipping upward, I'm dressed in my Trickstress costume.
I fly through the city with the help of my grappling gun, and in no time I'm at the building with a flashing green light projected onto it. All the windows have been boarded up, leaving only the front door as its entrance.
I cautiously open the door and step in, letting it close behind me, leaving me in a dark room. Suddenly, a projector flashes onscreen, as well as several neon green lights overhead. The neon lights trail to a timer and several sticks of dynamite duct-taped to the wall. The timer, set at five minutes, starts ticking down.
"Awe...I was hoping for the Dark Knight, but instead I got the ill-named Trickstress. Well, that doesn't mean we can't have some fun! If you can pass this test, you can prove you might just be as smart as that dullard Dark Knight himself!" a projection of the Riddler appears against the wall.
"Ed…" is all I can manage to say, looking up at his projection.
"Why so dumbfounded Trickstress? Are you so stunned by my superior intellect, that you are simply stupefied...speechless? Go on ahead and admit it...unless you can't, of course," he gloats, bending down to look at me.
"Let's just get this over with," I grumble, turning to the set of lights on the opposite wall.
"What you have are a set of buttons, each one activates a portion of the lights, but shuts off another portion. All you have to do is get all of the lights on before the timer goes off and the bomb blows you to smitterenes. Simple, no?"
I shake my head, "Nothing's ever simple with you."
"That's simply because you fail to understand the nuances of my puzzles," he counters.
I remain silent as I get to work on the puzzle, pushing all the buttons to see what each one does. The Riddler watches from his projection, but he can only remain silent for so long.
"Natalie...I can call you that, can't I? Why did you reveal your secret identity to me, back when you were a doctor at Arkham Asylum? Yes, I was curious but...you had nothing to gain from it. Why take such a huge risk? Are you just so stupid, you'll reveal your secret identity to any fool who gives you a wink and a smile?"
I sigh, ripping off my mask with one hand as I continue to press buttons with the other. I mumble, "I...I was hoping...you'd remember."
He raises an eyebrow, "Remember what? Wait...was it...was it something before my little bout of amnesia? Something happened, didn't it? Tell me what happened!"
All of the green lights lining the wall blink on, the timer stops, and I tie my mask back on, "Ed, if you really want to know, then riddle me this: if you already know my secret identity, why have you never used it against me?"
I begin walking out the door, while the Riddler tightens his fists, "I...I'm just...wa-...no, you will answer me! I, the Riddler dema-"
His words are muffled out when I slam the door behind.
I'm sitting on the roof ledge of the Wayne Enterprises building when my phone goes off.
"Hello?"
A panicked Barbara Gordon stutters, "Natalie...D-Dad's been kidnapped."
I shake my head, getting on my feet, "No...where?"
"Right at the station, I thought he'd be safe there but...somehow my brother got in," she explains.
"Where are you? Your Mom's old apartment? Hang on, I'll meet you ther-"
"No, you need to go and investigate my father's disappearance. I'll be fine, but we need clues as to where he might have taken him," she reasons.
I purse my lips, before responding, "Alright. But be careful."
I jump off of the building, before grappling onto another building and zipping toward the precinct.
Donning my old police uniform, no one questions me as I enter the busy station. I make my way to the Commissioner's office, where several officers huddle around the doorway. With my small stature, I'm easily able to squeeze through the tall officers and reach the scene. A breeze comes through the smashed window, while papers and pens that were presumably on his desk now lie strewn on the floor. I put on a pair of latex gloves to puruse the crime scene.
Amid all the clutter, something that sticks out to me is a card for Pauli's Diner, the old cop diner a couple of blocks from the precinct. But, the diner has been closed for years, the card itself is even yellowed with age.
Putting the card down, I step past the other officers and carefully make my way out of the station. I take out my phone to call Barbara, and at the final ring, the other line picks up.
"Oh...the Trickstress? How wonderful you could join us for a little family dinner!" a familiar, sinister male voice chuckles.
"...James Gordon Jr.?" I realize, "What happened to Barbara?"
"Sister's fine, I'm just bringing the family together for dinner. Won't you care to join us? You have my card...come join us for dinner!"
The line goes dead, and I hang up. Racing out the door, I run into a dark alleyway by the precinct, and come out as the Trickstress. People on the street stop and stare, some pointing and gasping. I fire my grappling gun up at the sky, and speed off.
Arriving at Pauli's Diner, I smash through the boarded up glass doors. The restaurant is empty-out, and deserted. The only sign of life is a dull light coming from the cracked open back kitchen door. I carefully creep toward the door, opening it up.
The kitchen utilities have been gutted out, leaving an empty room. But against the opposite wall, a painted tarp displaying the inside of a sunny, blue home lines the wall, the floor being tarped with a similar blue. Two stage lights stand on either side, giving the scene an intensely bright illumination. In the middle of the set sits a wooden dining table, and four chairs. Tied into two of these chairs are Barbara Kean and a gray haired, glasses wearing, moustachioed James Gordon Sr.. Barbara Gordon sits at the table in her wheelchair.
I run over to untie Barbara, "Thank god I found you guys before anything happened."
A figure stands just out of the bright lights, loading a gun and pointing it in our direction, "Ah...Auntie! You're just in time for dinner. Mommy made turkey."
I freeze, standing up and raising my hands in the air.
James Gordon Jr., a man resembling a young version of his father, steps into the light, his pistol raised, "Sit down Auntie, please, I insist."
Obeying his orders, I get in the chair. Lowering the gun, he steps out of the light for a brief second only to return with a large turkey on a silver platter, "It's so good to finally have the family altogether, in one piece."
The turkey is fake, plastic, and it bounces up and down on the plate along with the rubber strands of lettuce surrounding it.
"Dad…" James Gordon Jr. whips out a large, sharp steak knife, "time to cut the meat."
"I'm not playing your stupid games, boy," he protests.
James Gordon Jr. stabs the knife down into his father's leg. James Gordon Sr. yelps out in pain, as his son slams both hands onto the table.
"You're the root cause of all this! Leaving Mom for another woman! Neglecting her! Neglecting your own children!"
Blood starts to stain James Gordon Sr.'s pants, pooling on the chair and dripping down to the floor.
James Gordon Jr. turns to the opposite side of the table, to where Barbara Kean is sitting, "And you've been no help either! Drinking, drugs, getting arrested, faking your death! You lied to us!"
His eyes turn red as he puts his hands on Barbara Gordon's shoulders, "You lied to your children…to me and sister."
He takes out his pistol again, "But now...we're going to make up for lost time. We're going to be...one...happy family. That's all I ask. That's all I want."
Barbara Kean turns to me, "Jim's bleeding out, he needs medical attention."
I nod, "I know. We just need to wait for the right mome-"
"Did you say something Auntie?" James Gordon Jr. turns his gun on me, "Something you'd like to share with the rest of the family?"
I improvise, "I-...I just want to say what a wonderful dinner this is, and I'm honored that you invited me."
"...good. I'm happy to hear that," he smiles.
Holding the pistol up, he sits down in the final chair, "Isn't this great? I've brought the family back together again! Now we can be happy...right...right?!"
"You're a monster…" James Gordon Sr. spits, gritting his teeth from pain in his wound.
He aims his pistol at his father, "I'm the monster? Says the man who is so neglectful of his kids, he lets his daughter get shot by the Joker because he's never goddamn home to begin with!"
James Gordon Sr.'s eyes become wide, as he turns his head to his daughter, "Don't you dare drag that into this!"
James Gordon Jr. gets out of his chair, holding the gun against his father's temple, "Like hell I'm dragging that into this! It was your faul-"
I leap over the table, tackling him from the side, grabbing his arm and jerking it upwards just as he pulls the trigger. The bullet shoots out one of the lights, covering half of his garish scene in darkness. Barbara Kean rips out of her constraints, throwing a Batarang at the other light, blacking out the entire room.
I struggle to keep James Gordon Jr. down as Barbara Kean rushes to help me. He overpowers the both of us, knocking Barbara Kean against the wall as he fires at me on the ground.
"How dare you! Ungrateful guest!" he fires several times at the floor, the flash from his gun illuminating the otherwise dark room.
Unbeknownst to him, I'd rolled under the table. The steam from the bullet holes rising in the air, James Gordon Jr. snarls, and starts walking away when someone tackles him to the ground. I crawl out from under the table, and, my eyes beginning to adjust to the dark, see that it's Barbara Gordon, having leaped out of her wheelchair to drag her brother to the ground.
I get on my feet to assist Barbara Gordon, but just then a dark figure crashes in from the skylight. Raising a gun, a grappling hook shoots from it. I push Barbara Gordon out of the way as the hook wraps around James Gordon Jr. and pulls him toward the dark shadow. The man knees him in the stomach and elbows his head down into the ground.
"Your family dinner is over," a deep, growling voice declares.
Barbara Kean, having moved to the other side of the room, turns the lights back on. Batman stands in the center of the room, with James Gordon Jr. passed out under his foot, blood drooling out from his mouth.
"Batman!" Barbara Gordon smiles as I help her back into her wheelchair.
"I've called an ambulance for your father," Batman's logical, utilitarian tone remains stagnant.
I cross my arms, "While we did have the situation under control...thanks for the save Batman."
He scoffs, "Take my advice Trickstress: retire. You're too old to be handling these high stress situations," he turns to Barbara Kean, "you too."
Barbara Kean simply looks downward, not willing to either agree, nor disagree.
"And how old are you compared to us, Batman? Ten...maybe fifteen years younger? Would you retire, should to come to be our age?" I counter.
Batman stares at me, his expression unmoving, before he shoots his grappling gun into the sky and flies off.
Barbara Kean chuckles, as the ambulance lights flicker from outside, "...kids these days."
I drop down onto the upper balcony of the Iceberg Lounge, already dressed in civilian attire. I open the glass doors leading into an office room, with a blue velvet motif, and a looming portrait of the Penguin that takes up a large portion of the right-side wall.
"Well...look who's here," a gruff voice with an exaggerated British accent echoes through the room.
I turn around to see two tall doors opening, and a pudgy man with balding black hair, a monocle, and a cigar sporting black dress pants and tails hobbles in. He turns to the two armed bodyguards in the doorway.
"Close them doors."
They close the doors, their loud weight slamming into each other.
The Penguin hobbles toward me, and once he's close enough, his voice reverts back to a mid-ranged, almost mild mannered American accent.
"Trixie I...I didn't know if I would see you tonight. B-busy evening?"
"As busy as ever, you?" I ask, as I begin following him over to a side door tucked into the corner of the room.
He chuckles, "...the usual. Beat Zsasz in another poker game. Of course...I've never been a man to play fair, but Zsasz never seems to catch on."
He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. He opens the side door, revealing a finely decorated bedroom, with a double bed colored a bright blue, and a penguin-themed lamp on either side.
"You could say I...ran into Batwoman today," I tell him, "she suggested that we tie the knot."
"No kidding? And what was your response?" he smiles, taking his hand off of me to remove his jacket and pointy black dress shoes.
I chuckle, sitting down on the bed, "I said that the both of us are too career focused to consider it."
"But...we have considered it," he counters, turning his head toward me.
I lean back, "Yes, but...it's not like I'd mention that to her."
"And we might have been very 'career focused' when we were young, but, things have started to slow down. Even for you," he snickers to himself, "remember when I killed Fish Mooney, and I stood on top of that rooftop yelling 'I'm the king of Gotham'?"
He bends his knees, putting both arms back, imitating his pose, "I'm the king of Gotham! I'm the king of Gotham!"
I collapse my back onto the bed, cracking up. While I'm laughing, the Penguin shambles over to the bed to lie down next to me.
After I finally stop laughing, I tell him, "But you were, at least for a while."
"Yes, but I could only hold onto so much for so long. As I got older, I understood my boundaries, kept what was truly mine…" he trails off, taking my hand, and looking into my eyes.
"Let's do it," he mumbles.
My eyes widen, "...what?"
He grins, displaying his yellowed, unkept teeth, "Let's get married."
The smile on my face fades instantly, and he scrunches his eyebrows, "I see...you're afraid."
Without saying anything, I turn away from him.
"There will always be people who will disagree with...us. But, why should they stop us from being happy?"
"Easier to say when you're the one seen as the bad guy," I grumble.
"I'd like to think of myself as a man who, against all odds, climbed his way to the top," he corrects.
I smile, rolling over to face him, "I know you do."
After a long pause, the two of us lying on the bed, staring eye to eye, I scotch just a little closer to him.
"What the hell? Let's do it."
The Penguin's eyes light up, "Y-you mean it? I mean, this sort of forgos the old fashioned 'popping the question' but…"
I giggle, before kissing him on the cheek. His cheeks blush red, and he nods, "Alright then. What the hell?"
We kiss, before crawling into bed together.
Author's Note: Sorry this is coming so late, the Standalone Special took far longer than I thought it would. I know people love the '66 Series (and it's coming back, trust me), but in honor of the release of Arkham Knight, I thought I'd try something new. This standalone has a lot of DCU Easter Eggs, so if you're confused by anything, just ask
Guest: Well, to find out how Ed feels about Oswald, we'll just have to wait and see.
And to answer your question, the "something new" is the Tales from the Arkhamverse. I also have a couple other ideas kicking around that I might try later
xXThat-Other-HobbitxX: Thank you so much! I do admit it's a very different take on Barbara from the show and any other interpretation there's been of her, but I'm glad you like it. The next Standalone Special will definitely be from the '66 Series, I've actually started writing it
Langley21: You're right, Ed does get the short end of the stick, and their scenes together can be very cute :) The next '66 Series picks up directly where the last one left off, and it will focus on Edward Nygma aka the Riddler. Should be fun!
Thanks! :)