Chapter 2: More Questions

The phone in Westan's lab rang. Westan stared at it for a moment. He thought that phone had just been for show. He used the one in his office because he didn't even know the number in the lab. But he stepped away from his microscope and crossed the room to pick up the earpiece.

"Hello?" he said, trying to sound calm and confident.

"Dr. Kyle Westan," the male voice on the other end said. "I have been looking forward to talking to you."

"Who is this?" Westan answered.

"A man who operates in circles that are enjoying the story about the thirteen-year-old who threw kryptonite at Wonder Woman for fifty bucks," the voice responded. "A man who, although laughed at that story, suspects the rumors about it being you are wrong. A man who will provide you the protection you now require because Waller isn't laughing."

Westan's heart stopped for a moment. "Waller thinks I paid a kid to throw kryptonite at Wonder Woman? That can't be right. I've done too much work on her biology to think that would work."

"Obviously. But you tell me then, who would pay a kid to do that?"

Westan was still panicked but maintained the frame of mind to say "I still don't know your name."

"My name is not the point right now. What I can offer you is protection from Waller. She probably knows you didn't do it but the word is out that you did so it doesn't matter. Reality is perception, you know."

"So, what do you want?"

"You will be fired before the day is out. What I want is for you to have the good sense to download your research and get out of there before it is official. I can arrange for your protection and a place for you to continue to your work at a higher pay."

Westan looked around the lab, grabbed a jump drive and put it in the nearby computer. He wasn't sure if he was going to trust this stranger with his life, but he did need to protect his research. Once he saw the files were moving, he spoke again into the phone.

"Assuming I accept," he said, "how do I find you?"

There was a pause. "You get into the white car outside."

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Ten minutes later, Lex Luthor received a call that Kyle Westan was in the car he sent. He smiled and hung up the phone.

His joy lasted only a second. He had another call to make but he couldn't. He didn't know who he was calling.

So, who threw the damn rock?

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Trickster was howling with laughter as once again he described the look on Wonder Woman's face when "the kid" threw the kryptonite at her.

Mirror Master groaned with boredom.

"Enough! We need to figure out what to do next. What is her weakness? How do we stop her," he asked. "If Sally could get her powers, then we can do it. It is just a matter of figuring out how."

"We don't need to figure out how!" Trickster said. "We hold her and make the League tell us."

There were three figures sitting in the basement of a deserted bank building. The basement was dark but there were several old, mismatched pieces of furniture set up in a semi circle, each with a floor lamp behind it. Otherwise, the room was empty. But it worked for the group whenever they wanted to work together. No security was required. Not even Flash knew about the place. However, that was more of a sign of how rarely the Central City villains worked together than any oversight on the part of Flash.

Trickster and Mirror Master had been bickering for the better part of an hour. The Trickster had told the three-member team that he could "get" Wonder Woman. However, in the tradition of the Trickster, it seemed that it was a plan with about a hundred steps to it and none of them appeared very promising. Captain Cold had let them bicker. During the few times they had all worked together, he found that he could do his own thinking while they fought and he could join the conversation when he was ready.

He was ready. Sitting across the room from the two of them, he looked at Trickster without trying at all to disguise his look of disgust.

"Explain to me why you think we are going to capture Wonder Woman and make the League tell us how to turn her blood into a meta-power drug? The drug is pointless. We capture Wonder Woman, let the League come to her rescue and make sure as few of them walk out as possible," he said. "This drug is just a red herring. I want Flash gone more than I want to play with her blood."

Mirror Master looked at Captain Cold. He nodded his head in agreement. Getting rid of Flash was always the most interesting part of the plan.

"But I want to fly," Trickster whined. "Sally got to fly. Why can't I fly?"

The disgust moved into Captain Cold's voice now. "Sally, the petty thief she was, did fly. And during the one day we know about, she didn't actually succeed in doing anything and ended up in the hospital. Have you seen her since? She disappeared from the hospital and no one has heard anything from her. Do you really think that she is still alive?"

That stopped Trickster in mid-protest.

Having everyone's attention now, Captain Cold leaned over, put his elbows on his knees and said in a low voice, "all right, then, this is what we are going to do."

But he was interrupted by his ringing cell phone.

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Diana returned to the Watchtower and immediately headed to her room for a shower. She was fairly sure that there was no kryptonite residue anywhere and wasn't planning on getting close enough to either Superman or Supergirl for any powder to cause a problem, but knew it would ease her mind.

There was a note on her door that said simply "Conference Room 3." It was Bruce's handwriting. For a brief moment, she thought about heading straight there but didn't. She removed the note and went in for her shower.

Although the entire League knew there were actually four conference rooms in the Watchtower, the one that got the main use was "Conference Room 1" which held the regular meetings of the founders. Each room was configured differently. Conference Room 3 was the smallest conference room – it would hold about eight people around a single conference table. It was in a lesser used area of the Watchtower and Diana had already suspected that Bruce had put it there in case he ever needed to work out of the Tower. She was curious as to why they were meeting in the Watchtower rather than in at Wayne Manor. She wasn't particular worried about it as she had long since grown accustomed to Bruce's quirks but between his tone of voice earlier, his interest in the rock throwing and the meeting suggested there was something going on that she didn't know about.

Diana did not react well to being left out of the loop.

When she entered Conference Room 3, there was a vibe that told her all her instincts about something else going on were absolutely right. The conference table had been covered in a table cloth, there were candles burning in the center of a wonderfully set dinner for two. But Batman had come to dinner, not Bruce. And even though protecting his identity from the newer members of the League was important, he also could have changed.

When he turned to look at her, she arched an eyebrow at him and moved her head in the direction of the security cameras in a silent inquiry of whether or not they had been disconnected.

"Yes," Batman answered softly. Even with the cowl covering his eyes, it was clear that he was admiring her simple black skirt and red silk tank top. As if to prove that the cameras were off, he walked over to her and kissed her. After he pulled back, he looked her over for a moment and motioned to the table.

Oh, what are you thinking? Diana thought. His behavior was just a little off. Even with the cowl on, she was sensing some sadness and anger from him, neither of which she could think of a reason for.

She made her way over to the table and sat down. Batman removed his cowl and looked at her.

"The rock," he said abruptly.

She told him, omitting nothing but her opinions. When she was finished, they ate crab bisque for a few minutes in silence. Diana knew Bruce was processing the information and would say something when he was ready. She had said everything there was to say on the subject and was happy to just enjoy the food.

"Your thoughts?" he asked finally.

Having finished the soup, she took a bite of the salmon steak on her plate before she answered.

"I would complete dismiss it as a prank if it hadn't been kryptonite. I mean, it was young boy. And kryptonite is not easy to come by. The question is does someone think that kryptonite could hurt me and if so, is there more to it than just getting rid of me? It is part of a bigger plan to use our weaknesses against us? But a master evil plan starting with a young boy throwing kryptonite at me doesn't feel right."

Bruce slid an envelope over to her. "What does this do to your thinking?"

She opened the envelope and looked at the photograph.

"That doesn't make any……unless," she looked up at him. "These two events aren't connected."

Bruce smiled faintly. "That is my conclusion as well."

Diana paused as she realized Bruce's mood had suddenly improved.

"But you thought they were," she said softly.

"I wasn't sure. It was a possibility."

"So how exactly were you planning to let the anonymous source know that you had ended our relationship and I mean nothing to you?" she asked dryly.

He looked at her. His expression, which had softened only seconds ago, hardened again.

"This is what I was talking about," he said firmly.

Diana wished she could pretend she didn't know what he was talking about. But she did. His list of reasons why they shouldn't be involved.

"I had thought that gargoyle's sacrifice had illustrated my thoughts on the subject," she said, referring to the statue she had broken at the suggestion that someone could use her to get to him.

"It had."

"Good. Then let me worry about me. You figure out what the research is for and who is funding it. It is a mystery were one shouldn't exist and it bothers me."

He looked at her darkly for a moment. They were opposites in so many ways and yet alike in as many ways. There was no point in arguing about whether or not Diana could take care of herself. They both knew she could. However, there also was no point in arguing about whether or not Batman would blame himself if someone did discover her weakness because they both knew he would. So the couple ate in silence for a few moments in an acknowledgement of both sides of the issue and that if the situation was reversed, they would be having the same disagreement but the roles would be reversed.

"I will tell Superman at the next Founders meeting about the kryptonite. He needs to know to be careful," Diana said finally.

Batman said nothing. Then, finally he asked "how did that boy know you were going to be on that street at that time?"

Diana stared at him and realized that in her concern as to where the kryptonite came from, she had missed the bigger question.

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Waller was in her office meeting with Don Bortz, the photographer, who was once again requesting more money for the photos of Batman and Wonder Woman. This time, he was brave enough to do it in person.

Waller's office was simple. Designed to impress, she sat in a large black leather office chair behind a large oak desk that had only a small laptop computer and a phone. There was no paper to be seen. Bortz sat in one of the two black leather guest chairs in front of the desk. There were matching bookcases that were filled with leather-bound books and photographs of Waller with important people. Her degrees were framed and hanging on a wall with more photographs of Waller with important people. The other walls contained abstract art that, if looked at carefully, were numbered in acknowledgement of their limited edition status. On the credenza behind her, there was a neat stack of files and a small cup with expensive pens in it.

That sort of display was not going to intimidate Don Bortz, the Navy Seal who had turned celebrity photographer. She had hired him because he was the only one she could think of who would not only be able to get close enough to take photos of Batman but wouldn't ask any questions about why someone wanted those photos. She hadn't counted on his greed.

"My magazine would pay three times as much for those photos," he said for the second time.

"I doubt that," she replied, bored with the conversation. In fact, your magazine has, last time I checked, seemed to have given up on linking Wonder Woman with anyone."

It was a weak argument and she knew it. However, Bortz clearly thought he was going to walk in, make his demand and walk out with money so even a weak argument would throw him.

And it did.

"But now I have Batman and Wonder Woman photos. And besides, I did some research into who Wonder Woman has been linked with in the last several years."

Waller arched an eyebrow. She thought "research" might be a strong word but she was willing to let it pass.

"There has been a lot of speculation about her and Superman but no one has ever gotten anything about them and I frankly never thought they were an item. She has been photographed with Arthur Jacob, the curator of the Metropolis Museum of Art a lot but she consults for the museum on Greek and Roman art and none of the photos suggest anything romantic. There was a duke who was involved in that Kasnia royal wedding she was in as well but I haven't seen anything with them in ages. But that's really it, and then you get a bunch of photos of her with various VIPs at various charity events. Oliver Green, Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor – people like that. But it makes sense, if she was involved with Batman, why there really isn't anything with her and anyone else."

With that, he tossed some copies of photos onto the desk. Waller looked at them and they were exactly what he said they were.

"I think," she said quietly, "that you are forgetting the details of our agreement. I wanted photos that would conclusively provide me with Batman's identity. I don't really care who he is sleeping with. That I paid you at all for those photographs is a sign of generosity. You are abusing it."

Bortz looked directly at her and his voice softened a bit. He wasn't threatening but he clearly thought she had made his point for him.

"Then let me give the photos to someone who does want them. I am continuing to track Batman and I am confident I will have something soon."

Waller arched an eyebrow at him. Sometimes greed made fools of even the smartest people. "Fine. You have my permission to sell the photos to anyone you want. Keep in mind however, that Batman knows the photos exist and when he sees your photo credit in a magazine, he may want to talk to you. But I am sure you can handle yourself."

Bortz paled, proving Waller right – he hadn't thought about that. However, he wasn't going to concede to her.

"Thank you," he said as he stood up. "I appreciate your time and your understanding."

Waller smiled at him and watched him leave. Then she began to flip through the photographs Bortz had left on her desk. He was right – there were several photos of her with the curator but in all of them, neither of them, in expression or body language, suggested anything but business. In the photographs with the duke, he was clearly interested in her but she was not in him.

She flipped through the rest of them, slightly embarrassed that she was as interested in the photos as she was. She was looking at a photo of Bruce Wayne and Wonder Woman dancing at a charity event when something in her mind clicked. She looked back at the photos from the wedding in Kasnia. It was a strange photo – one that the official photographer took and sold to magazines. But it was close-up of Wonder Woman and the duke during their introductions with some of the crowd in the background.

Waller had to pull out her magnifying glass but there was Bruce Wayne in the background. He was looking at the pair but it wasn't a look of lust or longing or jealousy or any of the possible expressions Waller would have expected. He was looking at the duke like the man had borrowed something of Wayne's without his permission and he was not in a sharing mood.

Suddenly frantic, Waller pulled all the photos of Wayne and Wonder Woman. They outnumbered the photos of her and any other person, expect the duke. She looked at the photo of her and Wayne dancing at a charity event and the photo of Wonder Woman and Batman kissing.

Wayne and Batman have the same chin and are the same height, she thought. But that's simply not possible.

But it was. She smiled. Bortz had fulfilled his task without even knowing it.

She couldn't take any chances though. She picked up the phone, dialed a number and gave the man on the other end Bortz's home address.

Bortz was going to have a difficult evening.