The lecture ends at 4:30 pm. Luckily this gives me the chance to get another few hours of sleep before my alarm clock rings at 11 pm and I have to get ready for my second job. But first there's something else I've got to do.
Dear Diary,
Again I'm starting my entry with this stupid "Dear Diary". But sadly, I still couldn't think of anything better. Mike's still as stupid as always, too. Nearly died laughing about me asking so many questions. But I know he means no harm with that. Therewith, my suspicion of paranoid schizophrenia and inferiority complexes is proven wrong for now.
Some bumbling idiot from Metropolis has upstaged me. Calls himself "Superman", saving about everyone without rhyme or reason. That watchmen guy thinks I'm a guy. Therefore the press is now calling me "Batman". It's a shame, really, although I know I should actually be happy. Like this at least no one will suspect the psychology freshman. Still I think I should set the record straight when I go out this evening to find out which policeman prized his personal assets above his duty again.
I just have to think of a name until then.
After I put my diary away safely and got into my dress, I feel amost like a different person. Strong and self-confident. I should have made a note to test myself of multiple personalities. But I'm already late again, so that will have to wait.
The safety measures at the police in Gotham City are quite negligent. Meaning there are none. Due to the fact that about all of the police institutions are burnt down or otherwise demolished relatively periodically, they probably thought a burglar alarm wouldn't help anymore either. Lucky me. Like this I quickly find out at which policeman the documents with the evidence suddenly "got stuck".
Barely half an hour later my black motorcycle is stood next to the house of a certain lieutenant Doronet. His house is looking pronouncedly lush. Didn't know policemen get paid that royally. The suspicion of some perquisites is downright leaping out at me.
Soundlessly I sneak over his balcony into his sleeping room. Dear Mr Doronet is a distinctly sound sleeper. Or maybe I was just too quiet. In any case, he doesn't wake up. Closing the door behind me I go back out again, then push it open with emphasis, standing still as a hooded black shadow in the doorway. Mr Doronet finally starts moving, looking around sleepily until he spots me. His eyes widen in fear as he starts to shiver without a word. I knew the shining white lenses over my eyes were a good idea. I have to look really creepy. Especially to someone who has a skeleton in his closet.
"W-What do you want...?", he asks with a squeaky voice. Poor guy, he should get himself a cool device like mine that makes him sound more frightening. His hand starts fumbling around for the gun that's been hidden beneath his pillow. Wasn't hard to find. Took it away long ago.
"I let your police station have a little gift yesterday", the deep growl emits from my voice-contorter. I hold up his gun so he finally stops his frantic searching. "I don't like it when my gifts somehow... vanish, Mr Doronet."
Something has to go on in that guy's head right now. Maybe he thinks I want to shoot him. Even though I don't point that stupid gun at him. Nevertheless that guy suddenly jumps at me, screaming in panic. I dodge with a practiced move, sending him falling to the floor. His pale potbelly wobbles as he struggles to get back to his feet, panting, trying to charge at me yet again. I keep dodging until he slips on an empty champagne bottle, almost falling off his balcony. For a short moment, I'm tempted to stand still and just watch him fall to his death. After all it's his fault for sleeping four flights up.
But if I have a murder charge on my hands, I'll likely get serious problems with the police. After all that guy's still lieutenant. And so I grip his arm with one hand while pushing the other one with the gun down on his back to keep him from falling. By a snatch his weight pulls me down as well and I'm already seeing myself lying on the ground with my neck broken, but somehow I manage to keep the both of us up on the balcony.
At that very moment a blazingly bright light goes on. I narrow my eyes.
"You are surrounded. Drop the weapon immediately. I repeat, you are surrounded. Drop the weapon...", the voice from a megaphone roars in my ears. My eyes gradually adjust to the light that's coming from different floodlights. Two of them at the helicopters above me, some more down on the ground at the police cars.
"Shit", I swear silently to myself as I realize that those policemen caught on my little visit awfully well, thus knowing where I would go.
And "Fucking shit" yet again as I realize that the barrel of the gun is right now pressing against Mr Doronet's neck pretty suggestively, the man I am currently holding over the handrail four flights up. I guess they misinterpreted this a little bit.
I don't budge an inch while the voice keeps repeating its orders. As long as I'm holding the lieutenant, the policemen won't intervene. Whoever is in charge down there has apparently realized that that guy's plummeting to his death in case I release him right now. Something he actually deserves, but yet again, I really don't need a murder charge. Think of something, Beverly, hurry. Come up with something in that genius brain of yours. Why are you learning how the human mind works every day?
I slowly pull the man away from the handrail, pressing the gun to his neck more firmly in return. I need a leverage, I'm sorry. There goes my good image. But I'm currently surrounded by about twenty policemen and don't want to stand trial tomorrow.
"Who is the operations manager?", my unfamiliar dark voice aks against the noise of the rotor blades of the helicopter. I see the policemen on the ground move, a man with mustache and glasses stepping forward.
"I'm Lieutenant Gordon!", the man shouts up at me. Another lieutenant, great. "Who are you and what do you want?"
I take a step back, increasing the gap between myself and Doronet whom I still threatening with the gun against his throat. I can see him trembling with fear. Sweating. My thoughts are racing. Scared of death. Panic. Come on, Beverly, get a move on. Remember that lecture about fear.
Panic results in either flight or aggression. Which in Doronet's situation both come down to the same thing - he has to disarm me. If I give him a chance, he'll definitely attack me. Fine, sounds like a plan.
"I, Mr Gordon", my menacing voice speaks on while I keep distancing myself from Doronet, "am a little upset about your titling of my person", I take another step backwards and the wind of the rotor blades captures my black cape that veiled me until now and is now blown back, revealing the skintight gray kevlar suit that's covering my obviously not male body, "as BatMAN."
I can see clearly how a light dawns on those policemen down there as they finally latch onto the fact that I'm a girl. Well done, Beverly. Just keep them thinking that you almost killed a cop only to get your gender straight. No word about trying to blow a corrupted corporation's cover. That's good for my bad image. Before I end up like that weirdo in Metropolis.
"Okay, Miss", the policeman, Gordon or whatever his name was, calls up at me. "How would you like to be called? Batwoman? Batgirl?"
I can see the muscles in Doronet's back work. Now that he knows I'm a girl he feels as if he could overpower me, thinking he could disarm me. The attack is provoked. He only has to do it. Come on, Doronet, you wuss. Attack me.
"Of course not. That's much too stereotyped and simple. I am...", I start and slightly lower the gun. Finally that dork screws up his courage and does what I've wanted him to do all along. He turns around as if in slow motion. Much too slow for me.
All he sees is empty space where I stood mere moments ago. The gun hits the floor as I leap onto the handrail behind his back. The hook hits the skids of the helicopter unerringly, and I take to the air.
"Lady Bat", I call the name out into the night, the name that penetrates my mind this very second, before I disappear into the darkness to scoot away on my motorcycle. Those idiots will never cop me.
"Little princess. Hey, little princess. BB. Beverly. Wake up. Do you intend to sleep in every lecture now?"
"Leave me alone, Mike", I mumble ungraciously, still opening my eyes with a yawn. The disadvantage of these nightly ventures is definitely the sleep deprivation. While he is emptying out his bag in order to find his breakfast, I once again snitch his newspaper.
On the cover there's an awesome photograph. I absolutely have to meet that photographer. The rope I used to pull myself up isn't visible, as a result it looks as if my body with the wafted up cape really is that of a flying bat with spread out wings. The glaring light of the floodlights is behind me, coloring me in black shadows. Only the eyes glow white and demonically. No, I really don't look human in this picture. More like a monster. Just perfect for Gotham City.
What sadly ruins the great picture are the headline and the article beneath. "Lady Bat tries to kill policeman" - Great, so much for the murder charge.
I grimace offendedly. This is going to be just great.
In the mean time Mike has finally found his sandwich and is now tipping his finger at the photo. "You'll meet that guy this afternoon, don't you?", he asks chewing on his bread.
"Pardon?", I ask back in confusion. Mike always knows better about my appointments than I do. I still haven't figured out how he does that. But I should actually know about a date.
"The photographer. Jimmy Olsen from the Daily Plante in Metropolis. He and two of his colleagues have been in town since yesterday and they set up an interview with you for this afternoon."
"Fuck, you're right...", I mumble, letting my head sink down onto the desk. That's going to be awful. This Lois Lane is well known for portraying rich people like they were the only evil on earth. I just hope her new colleague will slow her down a little. What was his name again?
Clark Kent, I think...
A/N: Okay, here we go again. I'm actually quite surprised how much I'm writing these days. But I don't even know what happens myself until I actually write it down.
Thank you very much for the comments. I'm the kind of person who needs to know that someone's interested in my stories, so I was really happy =)
Of course I know that there are Batwoman and Batgirl. But Lady Bat is, in fact, someone different, a female Batman aka Bruce Wayne. Meaning she's going to be part of the Justice League and therefore will be stuck with dear Superman, Flash, Green Lantern, Aquaman, etc. I think this could get quite amusing. Maybe I'll even have some of the other heroes hitting on her. I'd love to see her reaction to that.
And just to make it clear, the Justice League doesn't exist in this story yet. It's like the start of the New 52, where superheroes are quite new and nobody knows anything about them.
So, next chapter will have a meeting between Beverly and Clark as well as Lady Bat and Superman (I think. Not sure yet)
Please review and tell me your thoughts, point out mistakes, add own ideas, ask questions... whatever ;)
