Note: Funny thing about this story is that Bat-Catcher was going to be a one-shot, yet here we still are! I have no excuses for my terrible actions and I'm not remotely sorry. Maybe my excuse could be that I keep writing this stuff while I'm really sleepy and should be sleeping but I'm writing instead like an idiot.
The shrill trill of the phone on her bedside table was much too loud and Brooklyn jumped, throwing the covers away from her body, struggling to attain a fighting stance while still in bed until the truth of the situation dawned on her. Untangling the blankets from her arm was the main challenge, but she managed and swiped the phone up. The caller-id was unhelpful with nothing better to offer than it being a local call.
"Hello?" Her voice was more snappy than she would normally allow but she was entirely too tired for the morning.
She had been out all night chasing down Joker's hiding places after he escaped. Once dawn arrived she was forced to call of her search until darkness arrived once again, but she was more tired than usual. No doubt the frustration had been the cause of the added weariness. She despised coming up emptyhanded. Of course, the nights before that had been dedicated to locating the escaped Riddler while her days were swamped with the ramifications of being the only one left with a technology that suddenly had a great deal of attention. Everyone wanted in the new Wayne tech and that meant everyone wanted to meet with her and talk to her and generally hound her every breath.
Batwoman had been coming up empty handed every night in both the Riddler's case and Joker's. It was making her crazy and that had a lot to do with lack of sleep too. Even when she could sleep, she mostly couldn't. This had been a breaking point when her body insisted on sleep and she could not refuse.
She was too tired for early morning calls! She had been awake for seventy-eight hours and some before falling into bed.
"Heya, Brooke!" A very cheery, familiar voice rolled sweetly over the line.
The frown coiled tightly on her brows eased inexplicably, "Harley?"
"Yep, it's me! You're old wingmate!" The girl sounded so chipper it should be illegal when it was so early.
Her first reaction was the instinct to snarl a question of why the girl was calling but she forced it back, "Hi..."
"How's life on the free side been treating you?" So much cheer!
"Fine." Brooke was not awake enough for a better answer which meant she should not be on the phone with an enemy.
"That's good! We miss you around here though." Harley sounded wistful and that might be a bad sign, "Say, I was wondering, do you know anybody that could make a delivery of a medical nature to Arkham?"
Her heart rate sped up instantly, "Are you hurt?" The alarm in her voice was real which should shock her.
"Oh, no, no! Don't worry! I'm fine, everything is fine!" Quin assured her.
The tightened muscles in Brook's shoulders let go with that, "Then why do you need medical supplies?"
"Ah, well, more like one particular medicine. Nothing special, just a case or two of chloroform."
The muscles in Brooke's jaw twitched, "Why would you call me this early in the morning with a question like that?"
The confused frown was almost audible over the line, "It's nine-thirty."
That was early for someone that got to bed at seven! "Why exactly do you need chloroform at this time of the morning?"
"Well, I've got this project, you see! It's just a little something I was working on to pass the time. Gotta have a hobby, right?"
"Would that project have anything to do with Ivy getting released a month ago and Joker escaping?"
There was a pause, "Well, I guess you know why I'm bored then."
Brooke fell back into her soft pillows with a sigh of exasperation, closing her eyes while she let Harley ramble on in an attempt to convince her to help her with this nondescript plan that had nothing to do with escaping Arkham. The former psychiatrist could indeed make a case for herself when she wanted, not that Brooke was fully listening. The girl had a lot of potential, too bad it was put to crime. Harleen could have been someone with a few other choices. Maybe if she had other friends, good friends, before Joker got to spread his madness to her things would have been different.
"When you get out..." Brooke interrupted another elaborate, rambled excuse, "because we both know you will, we should have coffee." She was well past tired and her mind felt like cotton. She should not be on the phone.
She could just visualize the sudden smile on Harley's face, could hear it in her voice, "You buying?"
Brooklyn knew something had to be wrong when she exited the private elevator on the first floor from her office only to find Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock waiting in the lobby. Their eyes dart up from their focus on the receptionist. Susan, she believed was her name, had a phone pressed to her ear but upon seeing the boss exit, placed it back in its cradle. Must have been calling up in the office to get her to come down.
The grim faces and worried eyes all focused on Brooke and it was entirely disconcerting. Bullock never had anything good to say about her, not as a Wayne or as Batwoman, but even his mouth was set in a firmer line. If anything particularly terrible happened, she should already know of it. Unless they somehow found out about what Harvey did and knew, somehow, that she did not turn over evidence. Or maybe, if anyone reported seeing her at the Iceberg Lounge with Harvey, they came to the conclusion that she hired an old friend to take care of her business for her. That she supposed she could see. The facts might look a little dark if taken that direction. If she did not know the truth she might suspect herself of that as well.
Just what she needed! Though they would be decidedly hard pressed to find any sort of proof. Even in public opinion, she doubted she would be effectively convicted. Most people would not even blink at it even if they thought her guilty of sabotage. Such matters of business dealings were almost commonplace and moderately expected to various degrees.
The automatic doors slid shut behind her and she smiled for her audience, swaying her way over to them as if she had not a care in the world, "Why, hello, gentlemen! What may I do for you? I assume you are here to see me?" She would play coy until she had some idea what was happening.
Jim reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck nervously, "Well, we have reason to believe you are in some danger, Brooke."
"What kind of danger?"
Jim's eyes darted around the room as if he expected to spot ominous listening devices or random ninja hanging from the ceiling. "We should probably talk in private."
If he really wanted private it might be better not to talk at Wayne tower at all. She was tempted to take them to the mansion so they could all be comfortable. She did not care to return to her office so she stepped past them and waved them to follow. They could take it to the station if that would make the older man feel better. They could talk outside, though it had snowed a bit early in the year and it would be chilly. She really should take them back to her office but she did not want to backtrack just in case someone caught her and held her longer with some terrible business proposition.
What she should do was take them to the little building where the food court was. She had the built several years ago to give employees somewhere to get away from the desk and the stuffy atmosphere to eat lunch or have coffee in peace. It should be quiet enough for them to be left alone at the current time of day. Most people went home around five or six and it was seven when she left the office. They could get coffee because no one would refuse to open for the owner, even if the place was probably cleaning up for the night.
The snow sounded crisp under her heels when she stepped into it, making her way over a few drifts in order to get where she wanted. The two men followed behind her like hired security. Part of her, in that moment, found it entertaining that the GCPD's Commissioner was her private escort from building to building. Talk about service! If she did not know him, was not friends with him, it really would seem odd. It would seem like she had far too much power.
"Look what we have here!" A theatrical stage whisper made all three jump and swivel their heads in the direction of the speaker.
"Riddler!" Jim barked, like the rebuke of his presence would make it less true.
Brook could not help the way her eyes darted to the figure and then to her essential guards. With them in attendance she could not simply bolt and duck away long enough to secure a costume change. How troublesome! Also troublesome was the audacious timing! Having been ready to go home, she would have been all the more irritated had it not been compounded by her company. She had been looking for the man for weeks without success and he had the nerve to blithely be twirling his cane right on the grounds of her establishment. The irony was entirely permeated through the situation.
Moreover, looking at him was painful after seeing so much white over the ground. There really was just entirely too much green! That striking green suit, hat, and mask were so harsh against the backdrop of snow that it actually made her want to squint at the man.
Riddler put up one gloved hand, the green leather creaking when he lifted one finger, eye alighting on her, "Riddle me this!"
For a second she wondered in a few terrified stray thoughts if he was asking her because he knew who she really was; just because they were in Arkham; or because she is with Gordon and Bullock. She dared not even consider the first option because it would be simply too horrible if he not only knew but also revealed her in front of the police. Jim would keep her secret, she knew he would, but Bullock would shout it to the skies.
Just at the moment words would have been leaving his lips, a perfectly shaped ball of snow hit directly between his eyes, covering his mask and splattering nicely over his entire face, "I've heard that one before." Joker commented like he was bored, tossing another nice sized ball of snow between his hands.
Brooke's shoulders slumped. Joker. Right in front of her. And she could not possibly get to her tools.
"You need a new act!" Harley chirps happily, actively making a nice stack of ready balls of snow with honestly impressive speed.
Her shoulders dropped a fraction more. It looked like Harley was freshly sprung as well. Joker either decided to go get her or she slipped out on her own. Three escaped prisoners literally right in front of her. Batwoman should be so lucky! But Brooke? Oh, the irony!
Riddler sputtered with sheer indignation while he swiped at his face.
It is more than a little sad that she did not notice Nygma coming, but to miss Joker and Harley sneaking around another side was an absolute disgrace! Moreover, why were they at Wayne tower? What is going on and why are her enemies converging in one place while she is not in any position to run and get her suit? What angle can she spin from her position as Brooke?
Bullock drew his gun, swinging it between the three targets without seeming to know where he should hold it. Jim's brows simply fall, his face morphing into something of a stunned resignation that this is just not going to be his night. Brooke can read his mind, she is fairly sure. It is Gotham so it should be no surprise at all. Why would the villains ever make it easy and appear one at a time rather than swarming when all the Commissioner has is a billionaire and Bullock at the ready? Why would Gotham ever be different? Poor man.
It is either credit to his bravery or the resignation that he does not even seem afraid of the prospect of facing those three essentially alone.
"How dare you!" Nygma's attention has been fully captured by the nonlethal attack.
Joker grinned, "Same way I dare to do most of the things I do! I just do it with so much more flair and originality than you do!"
Riddler turned to them fully, his previous intent utterly forgotten. With enough added confusion she might be able to slip away so that Batwoman could appear.
"Is that so? Well, two can play it that way!" With a flick of Riddler's wrist, he reversed the cane in his hand to very nearly create a golf club and he swung into the snow; surprisingly it worked rather well, sending a very nice shower of snow over the other two. Not as accurate as a snowball but it worked.
Brooke blinked and watched as an impromptu battle of snow developed in front of her. She had no idea how to honestly deal with that and neither did the men with her. It was stunned silence that had fallen over the three while sheer chaos rained from the criminals. Was that, by chance, what Jim came to warn her of? Someone saw the criminals lurking and called the police? After her time in Arkham it was not illogical to think she might be targeted.
That still begged the question of why Riddler was there. He seemed to have come to see her or Jim, but probably her. Why? And why, of all things, were Joker and Harley distracting him from whatever intent he had? Were they distracting him?
Were they... were they there to save her?
If so, to save her from Riddler? Which still answered nothing. It just brought her full circle on the 'why' issue. It was unfair to confuse her when she was tired!
Brooke was too surprised, too lost in thought to adequately dodge the slush bullet that crashed directly between her collarbones, managing to work a healthy portion of snow down the button up portion of her entirely expensive silk shirt. Her jaw dropped as she made to wipe the snow from her person only to notice how extensively it had worked its way in where a lady could not reach publicly. It was freezing and it was in her bra!
All three criminals smirked at her, sniggering like it was a particularly good joke. Oh, now that did it! Never challenge a tired, cold Wayne and expect to receive no payback! She did happen to have both a healthy competitive streak and a temper. Blue eyes nearly flashing, a harsh turn of a smile on her lips, she nearly threw down her bag and coat.
"All right, you three!" She prowled her way forward with no hint of fear, "That is simply going too far! This is my favorite shirt you just ruined!"
Joker tittered and waved his hand dismissively, "A little frozen water never killed anyone..." He tossed a decidedly larger snowball between his purple-clad hands, ignoring Brooke's mumble about the Titanic, but then he responded anyway, "A lot of frozen water... on the other hand..."
Brooke dove as the projectile flew, scooping up hand fulls of snow on her way and sending them through the air with all her speed. Riddler's hat went flying from the blow, Joker caught one to his clown face, and Harley only avoided her own snow bullet by using her already sputtering boss as a shield. Joker was decorated nicely in white in seconds, Riddler caught two in the hind end when he tried to pick up his hat, and Harley cackled madly as she abandoned her human shield for a sturdy Wayne Enterprise sign. Brooke tossed a snow curveball just so and managed to get it to drop right behind the sign, noticing the shriek from the blonde with great pride.
Her victories were moderately short-lived once her opponents recovered from the shock that a rich girl had a mean throw. It spiraled into a mad flurry of snow and snow dust that melts on the skin and sinks into clothing. The cold does not touch those at that soft, pure, child's play war. Of all things, they laugh, helplessly caught up in the absurd, ridiculous circus of a winter night. It's crazy but they know it. They are back in Arkham as equals, without pesky barriers to make them different. Arkham is a living thing that sinks into the blood if one is there long enough. This is different, different because a sane little heiress entered the world of the damned and shattered minds. Something about her smoothed their sharp edges, brought out the innocent fun of things. For a frozen moment, they all remember the innocent insanity, and Brooke is smiling, so they are too.
Brooklyn Wayne has a superpower; she can put up with beasts no one else will. She attracts them because she will look them in the eye and see them, not look through them. There is a difference. She does not fear them or shy away. She tries to understand them as more than monsters and in doing so, something in them responds. Most people would not survive their attention but she does for reasons no one knows.
Gordon watched the spectacle, watched the lunatics laughing, and was startled when he heard a short laugh from Wayne. It startled him because he had heard her laugh but he had never before heard her laugh. It made him realize how seldom she laughed, but also that she never really laughed. Her aim was impressive, enough to make Jim arch one brow rather high. Three targets, all hit dead on, in three seconds. Imagine what she could have done had he handed her something that was not snow! Plus, he never saw her pick up the snow or make snow projectiles until well into the fight. She was fast, moved like the Flash! And she was an only child?
Bullock nudged Gordon, eyeing the insanity with a pained expression, gun still out but just sort of dangling, "You sure those drugs they fed her didn't do anything... permanent?"
They were both so focused on the snowball fight they never even noticed the dark figure retreating to a parked car, but Riddler, Joker, and Harley did. Then again, they knew he was there all along.