Clambake

Miami

Helena was alone. Karen was out getting coffee or something and should be gone at least another ten minutes. Opening her laptop, Helena glanced at the door of the apartment and then turned her attention back to the computer. She clicked open a folder and then another inside that one and another inside that one and finally another inside that one. She tapped it twice and a box came up asking for her password. She typed in Vicar is Bantam. The file opened and there were several video files waiting for her. She tapped the one marked Milan and a dark street scene came up. It was a recording of the small apartment she'd rented. The time stamp indicated it was from two weeks prior.

An untrained eye might have missed it, but she was trained by the best. The window seemed to open by itself and then just a flash of dark cloth moved through it. Damn, she thought, he was faster than I expected. When the idea of the anagrams came to her it seemed like a fun little game to play. The sort of thing her father loved to use as a teaching tool when she was growing up. Helena figured this world's Bruce Wayne would catch it sooner or later, but the speed at which he traced it back to the apartment in Milan surprised her. Backing the clip up she froze it just as the hint of fabric appeared and then disappeared. Looking at the time code she could see it was only an hour after she'd finished cleaning the place and abandoned it.

She could almost hear her father's voice chastising her for being sloppy. She'd underestimated her opponent and nearly got caught. Her mother would have chimed in at that moment and pointed out that in fact Helena hadn't been caught. Her father would have countered that wasn't the point. To which her mother would reply, getting away is always the point. They had been having this discussion most of her life.

The voices were only imaginary, but for Helena Wayne they represented the two powerful dynamics that had shaped her life. It was as if depending on the light and which of her parents you knew, a person could easily see her as a spitting image of Bruce or Selina. While she carried her father's sense of justice with her, she also understood her mother's belief that circumstances force things to change. Helena had borrowed the money from this world's Bruce Wayne because they were alone and frankly needed it to survive. Karen had turned it into a fortune of her own, but the fact remained she stole it.

Her mother would understand, saying something like 'you did what you needed to do', while her father would have said something like 'use whatever justification you want, it was still stealing'. There in lay Helena's dilemma, she agreed with both of them. Neither parent probably envisioned their daughter being transported into an alternative universe, but their basic outlook on life most likely wouldn't have changed.

What Helena had learned that her mother knew better than her father, was when you have nothing; you'd be surprised what you'll do to have something. They had been penniless, homeless in a strange land where they knew nobody. The Selina side of her personality kicked in along with her survival instincts. She hadn't killed anyone or hurt anyone really. He had plenty of money and she had taken so little, he wouldn't really miss it. She did what she had to do for her and Karen to survive in this world, plain and simple.

Always though, in the back of her mind was the other little voice of her father telling her it was wrong. As they got more comfortable in this world, the voice got louder. Now it was the dominant voice inside her head. She wondered if that's why she put the anagrams there? Was Karen right? Did she on some level want to get caught? Her father's voice was strangely quiet, but her mother's voice was clearly and unequivocal. Don't be stupid, you took a little money you needed and had some fun. If it bothers you so much, pay it back.

With interested, her father's voice finally chimed in.

"All right, just shut up, please,' Helena softly said aloud. She grumbled some more under her breath as she began the process. All the mechanisms were in place to pay it back already, she just needed to send the authorization sequence and then make sure there were no digital fingerprints to tie it to her. It certainly wasn't as fun as taking it, but it was the right thing to do. At the last moment, just as she was about to finish, she couldn't help smiling. This world's Bruce Wayne had obviously understood it was a game, so why not leave one more little anagram before she finished?

Final Lid Up.

Nether I Twist!

Ma Ever Go.

Boo Edgy.

Her smile got a little bigger as she clicked the final key and then it was done.

Satisfied, she'd done the right thing, Helena was just heading towards the kitchen when Karen came walking back in. She was carrying a Starbucks cardboard tray with two coffees in one hand and the mail in the other. She set them both down on the table.

"Perfect timing,' Helena said. She moved over to the table and was about to grab one of the coffees.

"The one with non-fat written on the top is for you,' Karen said with a smirk. Helena didn't smile, but just looked at her best friend.

"Very funny."

"Is that the glare again?" Karen asked. "It needs work if it is."

"No, this is an expression my mother taught me,' Helena replied. "It means why don't' you shove that non-fat crap right up your …"

Karen cut her off.

"Relax, I don't know which is worse, you going all Batman on me or Catwoman on me."

Karen picked up her coffee and went over to the window. They had a view of the beach and she let her eyes move over the waves. Helena was going to reply, but decided to let it go for now. As she took her coffee, she did a quick scan of the mail. Most of it was for Karen. She glanced at the return addresses, noting who it was from and where before tossing it to the side. She stopped at an odd shaped envelop with gold lettering. Giving it the quick once over, she held it up to Karen.

"You got an invitation,' she said. "From the looks of it, I'd say it was some sort of trade show in New York."

"Why don't you just open it, detective?" Karen replied, not turning from the window.

Helena looked at her friend again. Karen had been in a mood for some time now. Ever since she went to Metropolis and saw Clark Kent. She had related the meeting to Helena. She was just as surprised by what he'd done, but happy it went so well. Karen said she was glad about the outcome too, but Helena knew her well enough to tell that it was bothering her. She had a hunch what it was, but if she asked Karen, she would deny it. With a sigh, Helena opened the invitation.

"Big trade show it New York City and they would be honored if one, Karen Starr of Starr Industries would attend,' she read aloud.

"I don't think so," Karen replied. "I'll send someone from the company in my place."

Helena was listening to Karen but also scanning the list of invitees. One name jumped out at her, Bruce Wayne. The voices began to chatter in the back of her head again. It was so tempting, to actually meet him in the flesh. She could say she was an employee of Starr Industries, which was technically true. Helena wondered if he'd do what her mother referred to as 'his playboy thing'. She smiled remembering how her mother used to tease her father about it. It irritated him to no end. This would be the perfect opportunity to see it, even if it wasn't her father.

"Why don't you go to this?" Helena suggested. "I'll come with you."

"I don't really feel like it,' Karen replied.

Helena decided to try a different tactic.

"Yeah, maybe you're right,' she said. "You know I've been thinking of going to Metropolis anyway. I should probably thank Clark Kent personally."

Karen turned at this.

"No."

"Why not?" Helena asked innocently. "He did me a favor too, I should properly thank him for it."

"Helena, no."

Helena waved this way as she turned back to the mail. She could feel Karen glaring at her and had to smile just a bit. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Karen had her arms crossed in front of her and she did not look happy.

"Stay away from him, Helena, I mean it." Karen firmly said. "Isn't it bad enough what you're playing at with this world's Batman?"

"Oh, yeah, by the way, I paid it all back, so you can stop lecturing me about it,' Helena replied. In her mind, Helena wasn't just directly this comment to Karen, but to a certain voice as well.

"You paid it back?"

"With interested.'

"You know that's not going to stop him,' Karen offered.

"Probably not,' Helena admitted. "But if it's all there, then there is no crime. It's all just 1's and 0's in computers somewhere, so there is nothing that can trace it back to me."

"He's Batman, he'll figure out something,' Karen replied.

Helena chose not to answer this, instead turned to topic back to Clark.

"You know, maybe just thanking Clark isn't enough,' she mused. "I could take him out to dinner. Some place intimate and private."

"No and NO!" Karen exclaimed.

"Why not?" Helena asked. "You even said he's good looking and I'm not related to him."

"I'm not related to him either,' Karen fired back. "Just stay away from him. I know how you are, so no, just no!"

"Oh, come on, you said he was isolated here," Helena countered. "Maybe we could have dinner and then I could be the soft shoulder for him to lean on for the night. I'm sure he doesn't talk about being Superman with anyone so he'd probably really appreciate a sympathetic ear."

"Oh, please!" Karen rolled her eyes. She pointed a finger at Helena. "Just-Just leave him alone! He doesn't need your sympathetic ear or any other part of you, Helena. He's leaving us alone, so we should leave him alone. I'm warning you!"

"Oh, already," Helena pretended to reluctantly give in. "Then let's go to this trade show. At least I might meet someone interesting there."

"Fine, we'll go,' Karen said. "You just stay away from Metropolis and Clark Kent, is that clear?"

"Jeez, you sound like his girlfriend,' Helena snidely commented. "Alright, I won't go to Metropolis, I'll go to New York with you."

"Good!" Karen replied. A beat passed and then she felt compelled to add. "I don't sound like his girlfriend, that's ridiculous. I just know you and he doesn't need any of your thank yous."

Even though Helena had essentially gotten what she wanted, she did take exception to Karen's last comment.

"I'll bet he'd really like my thank yous,' Helena muttered under her breath.

"NO!"

Gotham

Bruce Wayne looked over the latest reports from his team. The money was back in his accounts with interest. The team seemed to think the matter was closed, as they had already changed passwords, firewalls and taken every security measure to make sure it didn't happen again. Outwardly, Bruce agreed with them. He did make sure to impress on each and everyone of them that if this happened again, he would be looking for a new team. They all got his message loud and clear. He let the silence linger just a little longer than necessary and then thanked them all for their hard work. They left his office rather quickly, happy to still have their jobs. They believed he thought he matter was over.

Outwardly he was, but privately, Bruce took a different view. He sat down and began scanning the latest figures. It took several minutes, but then he found them, the anagrams.

Final Lid Up.

Nether I Twist!

Ma Ever Go.

Boo Edgy.

He did a quick translation in his head.

Paid in Full.

With Interest.

Game over.

Good-bye.

He sat back and steepled his hands in front of him. He read the message again. Bruce smiled.

"Oh, no it's not,' he whispered. "The game has just started."

Metropolis

Clark began packing an overnight bag for New York. He'd been called into his editor's office and been given the assignment to cover the technology trade show. It wasn't something he usually did, but the tech reporter was on maternity leave and he had written some columns on the tech industry so he was the best alternative. He didn't want to go and suggested they just use the wire services reports. He had some leads on corruption in a large bank based in Metropolis and wanted to follow them up.

His editor calmly pointed to his door and asked Clark to read what it said below his name. Clark turned and looked at the door.

"Editor." Clark replied.

"That means I decided where my reporters go and what they cover,' his editor explained. "If I start letting the reporters tell me how to do my job, well, Great Caesar's Ghost, we'll have anarchy. Get packed, Kent."

So Clark was going to New York. He zipped his old suitcase and set it on the floor. He picked up the information packet the event had provided and scanned over the latest confirmed attendees. All the big companies were represented. One name caught his eye, Bruce Wayne.

"Well, at least I'll know one person at this thing,' he mused.