Same Bat-Time, Same Bat-Channel
Characters Owned by DC
The almost hollow thump sounded like it came from outside the bedroom window but more like it was on the wall itself. Brooke cracked one eye back open, glancing at the clock long enough to know she had been asleep for fifteen minutes. It had been a week where the only sleep she was able to catch was what she got during the meetings at the office. Bless Fox and some of the others for stepping up each time she fell asleep because if they hadn't she would have been running seven days on no sleep at all. An hour here or there meant the world to her.
Her brain felt like cotton, body like lead, and her eyes burned like acid. Her eyes fell shut of their own free will, her will to care about a random noise falling short of her bodies insistence on sleep. Tracking Joker, Harley, Riddler, and Dagget's activity in the city had her stretched impossibly thin. Stopping crimes along the way had her fraying on some of her edges. Every time she turned a corner these days it seemed she found a mugger or a robber when all she wanted was for them to take the hint and go home so she could save the time she expends on them. She might have been a little unduly hard on some criminals she recently came across. Grouchy was an understatement for her current mood.
She has been more than half dead on her feet in either her day mask or her night one. The way her eyes burn tells her they would rather be attached to anyone but her, likely someone that slept. The fuzzy feeling in her mind is not fully unlike it felt to be just on the cusp of going under while she was being forced to take those drugs. Thoughts, rational thoughts, are increasingly difficult thanks to the fog shading everything with that dull sort of haze. Her body loathes her every move and even drills do not fully chase away that sluggishness in her limbs. She expects she feels the way most zombies surely would if they existed, which she is thankful that they don't. She has no need for more problems.
Every time she was close to getting Dagget's little merry band, Riddler pulled something, or Joker did, which meant she had to run off to stop that, but in the meantime, some other crime was also happening. It might have made her a little crazy because keeping up with them turned out to be highly taxing. She needed to lock a few of them up very soon so she could focus again. Thank God Ivy had been behaving herself!
Riddler, she decided, would be the easiest first target to focus all her attention on. Lock them down one at a time. Tomorrow.
Once the big problems were locked up she would be able to focus on the little problem of Dagget putting out a hit on Wayne. She sent Alfred with Fox on a business trip and forced Dick to take a case she hand-picked to keep him very busy and very far away. He was working with Kid Flash and those two got along rather well so he would be very preoccupied. She sent them all away before they could catch wind of the hit and she kept it under wraps.
Once Riddler, Joker, and Harley vanished in that little snow battle, Gordon got around to the reason he came to see her. He told her all about their suspicions about Dagget wanting her out of the way in a more substantial manner than before since she had gotten away from Arkham. The next day she had been able to confirm the price on her head via Batwoman. It never frightened her, she knew she could take it. He called her a fool when she waved away his plea for her to go into protective custody. She told Jim she would be fine, she hinted that she would be safer without escorts if Dagget's money was floating around. He could only halfheartedly argue with her after that.
The thump was louder the next time. It made her pry one eye open when it occurred to her it might be an indication that someone could foreseeably be trying to break in. How they bypassed security, who could even say? Unless she slept through the alerts which might have been the case. Irritably, she tossed the blankets away, storming to her window, mentally daring anyone to try and kill her while she was in this particular color of grouchy.
Why will the world not stop? Why can nothing and no one ever just leave her alone? All she wanted was to close her eyes! Close her eyes and sleep! She would take a blow to the head and comatose at this point.
With a dramatic flick of her wrist, she threw open the curtains and snapped open the window. One glance told her she indeed did have a visitor, though not quite one she would have been expecting. No one dressed in all black, no ski mask, just a garish clown in a horrible visual clash of colors. He brightened like a glowing lightbulb when he saw her, though it dimmed when she noticed her scowl. Still, he seemed no less happy to see her considering the precarious way he was dangling from the ledge of her window.
His smile had the decency to look appropriately contrite as well as strained, "Hiya, Brookie! Mind... helping out a guy?"
Brooke started, face devoid of any surprise or emotion at all, which she honestly did not need to fake, expression was for well-rested individuals, "Why are you hanging from my window?" Her voice was monotone because she didn't really care.
"Well, you see, there was this cat!" Joker began, overly animated for someone almost to plummet to their death, "You know me, can't resist a mystery, and boy was this a mystery! You'll never believe it when I tell you the whole story! But, like I said, I was following this cat, down alleys, up rooftops, all those places cats have a tendency to go..." He paused, the expression a little pained, "before I finish this explanation, do you think you could pull me up? It's really cold out here, enough to put old Freezy in comfort, so..."
Without a thought, without hesitation or a sign she was going to move, Joker found himself very nearly tossed onto the floor. He never remembered her grabbing him, or moving. One minute he was dangling, the next he had a face full of soft carpet.
The window shut behind him with a bang and Brooke shuffled through the darkness toward her large, comfy looking bed, paying him absolutely no mind, which was an odd experience. It was rather normal to be the full focus of anyone in any given room. Not so much as a glance his way and she was slithering right back under the blankets, turning over rather forcefully, giving him her back, of all things. Like she was not even afraid of him! At all!
"Late night, huh?" He ventured but got a full zero as far as a response so he dropped that particular joke. It was one just about everyone in Gotham had made about this particular diva. They called her brainless and they called her cunning; they called her ruthless but they called her a gentle humanitarian; they said she dated too much and they said she needed a relationship; interesting how everyone agreed to adore her more than they hated her. She was Gotham's darling no matter who they were, what class or standing. They called her an idiot but a sweet, caring idiot that loved the city and gave back in every way possible. They got surprisingly defensive of their iconic airheaded bleeding-heart socialite even when she did incredibly stupid things and can't avoid trouble to save her life. They let her get away with things no one else would have. Even the reporters talked about her outlandish behavior with more fondness than honest critique.
They loved her scandals and looked forward to the next ridiculous thing she might fall into, the next terrible headline of her exploits. Hurt her though? Hurt her and there would be an uprising the likes of which no one had ever seen.
As far as Gotham was concerned, Brooklyn Wayne belonged to them. They raised her, Gotham style, warped unhealthy as they all knew they probably made her, but still simplistically good as far as people went. People fawned over her and adored her because she was as good as their blood. She was the cute little darling everyone enjoyed watching, shook their heads at, and would protect to the death. Gotham made her what she was and they knew it, knew her self destructive nature was what they taught her so they would always forgive her anything. She was her own creature too though, kind at her core the way it could not be hidden, and that she why they loved her. If Wayne could handle what life threw at her so could they. She was their rock.
Of late, even the villains had fallen prey to that particular trap. It was like the girl was magical. And hey, they were right! She was cute. A dark, twisted sort of cute that caught you unaware, but snarred you all the same. She had him for a song, or rather since as song. Maybe since she took his hand and looked into his eyes like she saw him and didn't cringe away like any sane person would. He decided to keep her, whenever it was he realized he liked her.
He shook out his numb fingers, approaching the bed slowly, "So, Brookie!" He ventured, grinning even if no one was watching. "Since I was in the neighborhood-"
Joker would swear to his dying day that when she turned around to scowl at him, the shadows in the room lengthened, grew and shifted into something alive and ready to swallow him. Fingers of the shadows pawed at him, hissing like snakes curious to see how he would taste. He would swear, just for a moment, in that darkness, that her eyes positively glowed with a murderous intent that made him of all people, shrink.
"Be quiet." Her voice was just about as deadly as her shadow manipulation, quiet tone still betraying the absolute threat defiance would be quashed with.
Once she turned away he found himself letting out that breath he never knew he'd held in, "I'm... uh, a bit chilled. Mind if I join you?" His self-preservation skills had always been a little haywire since his dip in chemicals. What he should have done was run, not poke the monster, but he never could just let well enough alone.
"If that will shut you up, be my guest." She mumbled, settling into her very soft looking pillow.
Joker took a moment to process that answer and determine that it had indeed been a 'yes' when he never expected it. No one could accuse him of refusing hospitality, and no one could say he was an inconsiderate guest either! He spilled off his shoes before he burrowed under those blankets and everything. With a purr, he slithered closer to her, waiting for the inevitable slap that would follow his getting too close. Her eyes were closed and she let him get nose to nose with her before she cracked open one eye a fraction.
"Try anything and I will give you a reason to regret it." She warned in absolute deadpan.
This was the other reason he found he liked her. She could give him chills of delicious fear so few could.
Joker pressed his cold nose against hers and relished the way she shivered. He was serious about being half frozen, he could not feel his toes, half his face, or much of his fingers, it was a very cold year. Her bed was cozy, fluffy, and warm though, so he could not be more pleased. He could not help the extremely wide grin stretching his face either, a larger one than usual simply because he was entirely too amused by the situation. Sleepy was not entirely unlike her drugged persona, though drugs seemed to leave her less violently inclined. Not that he minded the sharper edge to the billionaire in the least.
"You're awfully cute and tolerant when you're sleepy, Brookie."
"Don't push your luck or you might find me more prickly." Her words were a little slurred but perfectly understandable.
Now that he was getting warmer he felt a little more playful, "Can I be the big spoon?" He asked sweetly.
"No."
"Oh, you want to be the big spoon? Well, I'm not opposed to the idea actual-"
She growled something he was mostly sure was; "I'll kill you."
It was for that reason that Joker waited, listening and watching until her body relaxed and her breathing evened out before he moved further into her space. Humans were very good blankets and he wanted to see if she was as pliant in sleep as she was drugged. It turned out she grumbled when he moved her, decidedly violent mumbling, but she did not wake up enough to follow through. Either way, he got to play big spoon, so what did he care? Her hair smelled rather nice as well. In no time at all, he was warm, comfortable, and drifting off himself. The bed was a far cry nicer than Arkham, or even his own. He invaded her well-guarded fortress for a reason but it could really wait until she slept and he did too.
When Brooke woke she felt shockingly well rested. It had been years since she felt like she'd slept exceptionally well without waking multiple times in the night or without that irritating side effect that nightmares tended to have where you felt like you battled monsters even in the sleeping world to leave a weariness lingering on the cusp. She was warm and comfortable, content. Batwoman never cared in the slightest about being cold, she relished it, even. It fed into her training and her bent toward self-deprivation, it fed her need to punish herself the same way keeping lists of every failure and life lost did. Perspective was everything and Batwoman was all about staying aware of her own flaws and doing what it took to keep herself from making more. The inwardly directed anger helped keep her from directing it outward as much.
Brooklyn, on the other hand, always hated the cold. She never liked the feeling of being cold. The way her toes tingled and her fingers numbed. She hated to shiver, hated how she could not always stop her teeth from chattering. She liked weather that was neither too cold nor too hot. She disliked he extremes of things because that lead to discomfort. She liked comfort; soft slippers, warm blankets, cheery fires, thermostats that could adjust easily to her mood and keep her happy. Waking up pleasantly warm and cozy made Brooke pleased instantly for that reason.
A glance at the clock on her nightstand tells her that she must have been asleep for around ten hours which is not as bad as it honestly could have been. She had been known, when she was simply that drained, to sleep a full twenty-four if Alfred refused to wake her after the requested four-hour mark. Why she always trusted him to do as she asked, she had no idea at times.
Something cold dropped into her stomach when someone moved behind her and the arm draped over her shifted. That little glow of happiness vanished because she recalled how she had fallen asleep. As deprived of rest as she had been it had seemed so reasonable to have one less enemy to worry about on the streets while she napped. All she had to do was capture him when she woke, she had thought. It sounded so logical! It sounded like a good idea! She rationalized it endlessly even in the short time it took to pull the man inside from his dangling position. She thought it was a perfectly grand plan when she was in full-blown sleep deprivation mentality.
Rested... it sounded like the most insane idea she might ever have entertained in her life. How? How had she expected that to end well? Truthfully she knew she had not thought that far ahead, waking up never factored into her rationale at all. As if at the time she intended to sleep forever? Because that would happen! Sleepy Brooke was an idiot! Out of her everloving mind! This was why she did not drink nearly the way people thought she did. She did not care at all for the choices she might make while under the haze. This ended no better than her drinking days as a teen. She might scream if she expected it might help. Though, after the realization of what she had done set in, she wanted to go back to sleep just to avoid it.
She cringed when she felt his cheek nuzzling into her shoulderblade like an affectionate wolf. A long pointy nose with sharp pointed teeth; all the better to eat you with, my dear! Splendid! Not one of her finer moments.
Lifting the blanket off herself enough to peek under revealed that things looked in order. All her clothing was in order, thankfully, his hands did not seem to have gone where they shouldn't have; well, other than the cuddling issue. Also, no drool, fortunately! She was not sure how she would have reacted to being drooled on by her enemy. Brooke never let anyone stay in her bed overnight even if she brought them home, which was rarer than people thought it was.
He woke up rather suddenly, or he had been awake already. She knew he was aware of her return to the real world with the way his hold on her tightened just before he tugged her over to face him. She went easily, aware that she did not have a mask to hide behind. Compliance was expected of her in this skin but try as she might, she could not summon up the fear. A crazed killer was in her bed and she was without weapons, yet she was not at all frightened. There really was something very wrong with her mind, she supposed.
Those green jade eyes stared into her, peeling away more layers than she was comfortable with, but still, she refused to pull away. She allowed his examination of her and could only hope she did not give away things she could not afford to. He looked well rested, no dark purple under his eyes to indicate the tiredness she sometimes saw in him so she guessed he must have slept right along with her. He seemed entirely more pleased than he had right to be, like he had been offered a far greater victory than simply waking in her bed. If rumors were true, that was far from a real accomplishment. Men tumbled into her bed every night, people said. She went on too many dates but held onto none for long.
Joker did not look at her the way most men did, not like he saw a woman, he just seemed to be looking at Brooke. It was strange to make that distinction and more so to feel thankful for it. He was not ogling her feminine attributes, he was studying her. Some distant part of her was flattered that he took the time when few others ever had but she knew exactly how dangerous it was to be under the brilliantly insane scrutiny of this man. His interest was a dangerous thing even when he chose not to actively do harm, he was harm personified. Even his gentleness could cut. He was not like Harvey, there was no safe side of him.
Joker shifted, moving up and over her, threatening without showing his fangs. The smile was as close to sweet as he might be able to accomplish, so Brooke decided to cut off anything he might lead with while he was still relatively calm.
"Good morning." She offered mildly, letting the steadiness of her voice wash over him.
If he had not seen it before, he noticed her lack of fear now and his eyes flickered between edged and fond, "Good morning!" He leaned down to kiss her jaw very lightly, never taking his eyes away from their lock on hers, searching for a response and pushing the lines to see how far he could go, "Sleep well? I know I did! Your bed is the Tajmalah of beds, darling!"
"I'm glad you found it adequate." She told him mildly, "though, in the light of day, I find myself wondering what I neglected to inquire about last night. Why did you come to see me?"
He hovered over her with that sly grin, a hand on either side of her head as he leered like a fox, "I heard you had vacancies on your staff list so I thought I could... submit an application. Make an honest buck, you know?"
Brooke arched an unimpressed brow, "You clean? Or were you applying to cook?" Whatever reaction he expected, he was not going to get it.
A few emotions flickered startled over his face but none of them stuck but the widened grin, "Oh, darling, I'm very experienced in... harsh chemicals! And look at me? Am I not squeaky clean looking?" He held up his white hand in front of her face, "Am I not well groomed?"
Brooke sat up, almost bumping noses with him, invading his space without hesitation or show of fear, forcing him to move back, which she felt was a triumph, "You want to be my stand in butler?" She laced in all that incredulity he would expect but none of the apprehension.
He chuckled, sitting back on his heels, playful smile hiding the almost softer edge he was trying not to show the more she pressed him back, "Actually, I was thinking 'maid' since I would look stunning in that uniform, but I suppose I could be... heh, your new penguin, if you like."
"Do you have any references?" She watched that surprise seep into his eyes, but also the delight of not being able to predict her.
There was that sheepish tilt to his eyes again, but it was swallowed up in the flirtation when he leaned closer, "Oh, several banks..." he chuckled softly, "they could tell you how well I 'cleaned' them out."
Brooke hummed thoughtfully before she slipped out around him to walk and get her dressing gown, "I suppose I could add you to the list of potentials."
Joker grinned brightly at her, slithering after her gleefully, "Oh, baby, you won't regret that! I'm very good at anything I set my mind to."
"I suppose we will see." She offered, ignoring all the voices screaming at her not to let him be at her back.
"And... I have a few associates as well. I could really beef up your security! I couldn't help noticing how understaffed this place seems to be, Brookie!"
"I don't know, I tend to like the quiet."
He hummed into her ear as he leaned in and rested his chin on her shoulder, "Well, maybe so, but I was kind of thinking it must get a little too quiet. You never know... who might come calling... when a lady like yourself is all alone."
"You mean, like a killer?" She parried.
His grin was wolfish, dangerous, but also somehow comforting in the odd little protective glint to it, "Yes, exactly! So, who better to hire? What do ya say, doll? Have I sold you yet?"
"I still need your resume." She told him simply as she left the room to head for the kitchen. Coffee was needed for this day.
When the phone in her office rang, she snatched it up with a sweet cream greeting, expecting the line to be dead in the next few seconds. It is not as if she cannot spot an intimidation tactic when she sees it. The mob has never been subtle. Those men are not complicated. It is intended to frighten her and also, very likely to try to identify where she is at what times. It's that second half that makes her switch it up every day, answering her own calls some days and having the reception desk do so other days at randomized intervals. Sometimes she instructed them to lie, making it sound like she was not in when she was. Confuse them as much as possible.
"Brooke, hi! It's Jim Gordon."
Her voice shifts into a real kind of pleasant, "Oh, hello! What may I do for you?"
"Well, I just wanted to check in with you. See if you were doing alright. Have you been having any trouble lately? Noticed anything odd?" He sounds worried but like he is trying to hide it.
Her mind flashed to Joker sneaking into her house, then to the hang-up calls. Her voice is even and pleasant when she answered, "No, nothing seems to be amiss as of late. Everything has been running smoothly as it always does."
"I... uh, heard you sent Alfred and Fox away. Grayson is off on a trip too, from what I heard." He is hinting a bit strongly.
She chuckled warmly, "Contrary to popular belief, I tend not to chain my employees to their work. I've been known to let my ward out of his room a time or two as well."
His answering chuckle was as fake as hers had been, "Yeah... I knew it was just a coincidence, you getting everyone out of harms way. I bet it's also a coincidence if none of them knew about the threats too, right?"
There was a slight edge to her voice when she spoke next, "You wouldn't happen to have called them to check, would you?"
Jim sighed a long-suffering sort of noise, "No, Brooke, I didn't, but I should!"
"There is nothing to worry about and no reason to worry them." She assured, back to her charming voice, "With them out of the picture, he has nothing to lure me away with. I'm perfectly safe. I did it to watch my own back."
"Right, good call. You also set yourself up to be totally alone at all times in a big old house anyone could just walk into!"
"So watch the house, Jim. Maybe you can use me to lure them out. Dangle a hook and see if you get a bite?" She smiled thinly even if he could not see, "That is common practice as far as tactics with the police, I should think."
"I'm not risking your life to set up a trap, Brooke!" He snapped.
"No, you wouldn't. Me on the other hand? If I set it up myself, you had nothing to do with it. If it goes south it's on my head."
"Don't do this, Brooke! That's a dangerous game to play! Things could go wrong so easily!"
"Then don't watch my house. It was just an idea."
"That's not what I mean! You need real protection! I could put you somewhere! Somewhere only I knew about!"
"That's no way to catch fish, Jim." She chuckled, intent on ending the conversation. "I'm not really very good at staying in the shadows anyway. It's not my thing."
"It will be if I have to put you in a box six feet under!" He was getting worked up and it reminded her of the quieter way Alfred worried.
"I'll be fine. I've got you watching out for me and I'm pretty sure you sicked a certain masked vigilante on me as well. What could I have to worry about? Just get some dirt on them and everything will be fine."
Jim Gordon was not pleased when the conversation ended but they said that was the sign of good business choices. If no one was totally happy it was a fair deal. Batwoman and Gordon were on the case. Things would work out even if he hated everything about her plan. He did not have all the facts. Sometimes she felt guilty about that, about letting him stay in the dark. Darkness was protection though. People that knew too much ended up dead. That was the reason for the mask, to be a shield. Everyone knew that no one knew who was under the mask. If he knew the truth he would act differently with both her personas and that would get him killed. Batwoman could not be human, not to anyone.
Brooke would buy him a drink after it was all over to make up for putting him through all that. She could also make a nice donation to the GCPD for him. Update some of their technology with hers. They could use some nice new toys to make life a little easier. Mostly she just wanted to make his life easier. Even now, after so much time, she did not trust more than a tiny hand full of his people. Lack of trust was what kept her from giving things away to the wrong people though and it had to stay that way.
When all was said and done, Batwoman only had five people in all the world she trusted. That was enough and that was likely all she would ever have. She would do anything for those people and she honestly thought they would return the favor. What more could a Bat ask for?
The air in Gotham was always heavy. Depending on the location, the city had a unique feeling to the air, a sort of musk that could be sweet or sour to varying degrees. Save a few seasons in the year, Gotham was always a bit cold, a damp kind that sunk in. That was likely largely thanks to the cloud cover that never really went away, rain or not. It felt alive, felt like home the way no other place really had. Gotham gave great sorrow, but there were happy memories hidden within as well, enough to make it worth the pain.
Brooke's moderately high heels were a soft click against the concrete after the elevator. The office building was emptying of its usual group as time ticked late. The garage was secluded enough to make her listen more closely. Leaving before the entirety of her staff was gone had been tactical, but her senses were telling her it might not have been early enough. Batwoman had rather good instincts for a situation and something in the air smelled of brewing trouble to her. A horn honked somewhere on the lower levels but it made her jump just slightly anyway. She ran her fingers through her hair to fluff it up a bit and sift through any tangles that might have come up through the day.
Batwoman hid her hair under the cowl so it was never an issue for her, but Brooke had a bad habit of playing with the free waves when she was thinking. She allowed herself the habit because Brooke was supposed to be human and that meant having various habits. A stiffness took hold of her spine and her body wanted desperately to fall into a defensive position, but it was a very telling stance so she resisted it. Silent feet, lithe motion as well as very fast, an untrained individual would not notice the approach. Her breath caught and held when arms were suddenly around her, a skillful hold that caught her arms and pulled her face to a chest, a hand on the back of her head the presses her mouth into the fabric to keep her quiet but not blocking her nose. This was far from the first time this person had ever captured someone off guard. She smelled gasoline but under it, this close, she smelled pine and chai. Joker. The understanding should have made her fight like a wildcat but she held still, absolutely calm as he tugged her behind a cement wall.
"Hey, boys! Looking for a little fun?" A smooth, sultry voice purred from further down the line. Poison Ivy. Perhaps she was not behaving herself as much as Batwoman had thought?
"Oh, I bet they are, Red! Why else would they be hangin' around dark lots looking bored?" The cheery voice had that familiar edge that promised danger. Harley Quinn.
Joker, Ivy, and Harley. Quite the tally! If that was all of them.
There was something of a collective outcry before the crash of metal denting and glass smashing was one she associated with Harley's mallet connecting with a car. The sound of manmade rock crumbling under the force of pointed vines of nature followed on the heels of Harley's weapon. She never used to expect to know what growing plants sounded like but botany on crack changed that. Interesting how things could really turn around as far as the perspective possibility once the city had its way. Interesting too how that was what her mind chose to focus on at a time like this.
The terrible pops of guns began to go off and Brooke tensed against her will; she hated the sound of gunfire bouncing off walls, the noise hovering and lingering long after it should be gone. She hated guns and she was inexplicably worried about the two women farther away even if the players in the fight were undetermined on the full scale. The shouts were rather nondescript. No one had shouted any sort of identifying call the way a police officer might have. The accents were typical the of usual street vernacular.
One of the men had to have pulled out a phone because he frantically begged for backup. That would indicate the other women were doing well enough, though most street thugs were in no way prepared to do any sort of real battle with the super criminals of the city. Even the mob could not hope to honestly contend a good portion of the time even if they would never consider admitting it. She could guess this group of men was hired muscle and nothing better, though they might have bee another small-time ring, she would be more inclined to think they were lackeys of Falcone or more likely hired by the same man that put a price on her head. She did not recognize the voices but she felt the likelihood was high so far as logic dictated.
Joker moved her back with the weight of his body, a wall of wiry muscle that his lithe frame made it easy to forget he possessed. His eyes were dancing like a child at Christmas, the muscles flexing wildly under the fabric of his suit and coat. He set her against the freezing cold beam, looking right into her eyes, one hand cupping her cheek and the other firm on her shoulder, "Stay right there, beautiful! Be back in a flash! Heh!" There was enough of a chill in the air to let her see slight puffs of moisture in the air on his emphasized words.
He rushed away from her side, grinning like the lunatic he was. It was not until she made to follow that she heard the growl. She froze obediently, only letting her eyes move to the hyenas positioned on either side of the hallway. They padded closer, eyes fixed on her. Harley's babies were standing guard to either keep her from moving or keep others from coming close, maybe both.
The Joker's loud cackle was punctuated by a few gun blasts and the "dogs" grinned at her, tongues hanging out between canines. The sight of those teeth made her keenly aware of her lack of uniform protection should she disobey what rules had been set down by that warning growl. She knew all the facts she needed about this brand of not so domesticated dog and she was rightly intimidated as Wayne.
She looked to the parking lot, saw the flashes, heard the shots, heard the frightened screams of the men she could only guess had been waiting to abduct or kill her. Gordan told her all about their suspicions about Dagget wanting her out of the way in a more substantial manner than before since she had gotten away from Arkham. She refused his desperate offers of protection, not wanting to dodge a bullet and a guard at the same time.
The appearance of her old asylum friends in the garage meant they elected themselves her protectors or they were rivals for the money. It was a fifty-fifty chance either way. In the past, she would have bet on the latter, but lately, she could not be dead sure either way.
The fight was so loud! Glass was shattering, metal was breaking, bullets were going wild. It was the sort of chaos she would expect to hear if thugs were thrown in against the real crime bosses, and not the ones like Daget or Falcone, the real Gotham criminals. The thugs with guns were the ones that needed protection now but the city protector was under close watch once again even if it was by animals.
They were her ghoulish guards but they would turn on her in a minute. Batwoman would move but Wayne would stay put. They laughed that chilling, horrible burst of sound, mocking her as if they knew all about her inner conflict. Blow her cover and save people that likely planned to kill her, or leave them to the fate of their poor choices? She was not fond of doing nothing but the "babies" growled again when she tried to move away from the beam. Slow and steady progress might not be enough to save her, and besides, it was a long way to an elevator. If only she had a bloody steak or two on her person!
Bolting it was! Though it was probably the wrong choice considering she knew the kind of power housed in those terrible jaws. Regardless, she could not stand there all day! A jump over the back of one had her heading right for the mayhem of the battle but she really had to do something to put a stop to that. The laughing mutts took chase as she rounded the corner, but that ended rather swiftly with Brooke corralled in Joker's arms and Harley giving the "sit" order like they were perfectly normal guard dogs.
The battle was over. Already. Though what had she really expected? There were bodies draped over cars and sprawled on the ground. Brooke took a swift count of the number but she did not want to ask if any of them survived the battle. The blood pooling under some of them might indicate answer enough but she would rather not know just yet, not while Joker had her head tucked under his chin, Harley was rewarding the animals, and Ivy was ignoring Joker enough to rub soothing circles into her shoulders.
It might have been around that time when she noticed she was shaking like a leaf and that might have been why Ivy was trying to calm her, prying her away from the clown to hug her.
"Back off, Joker." Pam swatter at him like he was a fly.
He simpered at her, "Possessive much?"
"He's just trying to help." Harley put in with a sigh so long-suffering it might have been amusing if the situation left room for amusement.
Brooke ignored the exchange and did not bother to assert her individuality and lack of belonging to any of them. She had no idea why she was shaking because she was not frightened, not of them. Perhaps for them? For the people of Gotham including the criminals that might now be at odds with the biggest threats in the city. For her slipping sanity? For the fact she was allowing Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn to cuddle her on both sides and sooth her like she moderately remembered them doing while she was having a particularly bad episode in Arkham. Was she in shock? Maybe she was having an episode currently because she was doing a poor job of handling, of processing, the situation at hand. Being rescued by her greatest enemies? What happened to her life?
Was she actually out of Arkham at all? She had to be just as insane as they were and probably ten times as morally corrupt to be allowing this to happen. Putting her identity before lives, letting fear of exposure stall her choices to act? What sort of person would do that? The Bat would have jumped where Wayne lingered in indecision. Her morals, her rules, everything was slipping and she didn't yet know how to stop her tumble. Brooke was supposed to be a background person, see but not overly involved in things unless needed. It was Batwoman that was supposed to be involved in everything. She did not know how to make choices as Brooklynn! Not like this. Her day mask was never supposed to be in these situations.
She was supposed to be clad in kevlar when she saw these people. She was supposed to save the day and not allow people to die! Then she was supposed to take these same people to Arkham where they could not hurt anyone else. She had been searching for two of the three endlessly as Batwoman and by rights she should now be able to take them away now that they were before her, but Wayne couldn't even throw a punch. Wayne was helpless and silly-headed, she would not even be able to make a normal citizen's arrest let alone bring in three big time criminals. Brooklynn had no business being here in this situation!
Harley and Ivy were cooing at her but Joker watched her like he could see all the thoughts in her head like he knew her secrets.
She was not supposed to be protected by anyone, let alone Batwoman's sworn enemies! Were they defending her? What happened to her life? She felt like fainting just to escape but nothing short of head injury ever allowed her that sweet peace. Her head was in a thousand places, bouncing wildly in and out of various scenarios and would or should's, could and couldnots. She hated herself for making a thousand mistakes in the last, most likely no more than, ten minutes. She really felt a slight spin in her head just contemplating it. Either way, she hated how she handled the entire catastrophe. Her indecision caused so much... death. She was supposed to stop things like that. She was supposed to be better. She always knew that people like her, people that took on the responsibility she did, could not afford to make mistakes, yet here she was.
She needed to develop entirely new strategies on exactly what Brooke could do. She might use this as an excuse to publicly learn Aikido, but still, that went against her masks helpless purpose. No one was supposed to think she was capable of fighting, that was the point. Maybe she really should hire guards but they would cause so many problems on so many different levels. How could she make it work as Brooke?
"It's alright, Brookie, they won't bother you again! Nobody touches you while we're around!" Harley assured her, cuddling her like a two-year-old would a stuffed animal.
"Don't worry Harley, it takes more than this to frighten our girl." Joker's face twisted into a morbid sort of too-wide grin, "We're the scariest things down here anyway! Ha! She's just a little... overwhelmed. She'll be fine once we get her outa here, right Brookie baby?"
Our girl. Like she belonged to them.
"How many people are after me?" She was surprised how rough her voice sounded, especially since she was not sure what emotion was causing the problem.
"Only the mob." Ivy assured her easily, "Penguin's people know not to touch the contract. Harvey would kill them if they even thought about it."
That was good to know. It did not make her feel particularly better, however, perhaps even worse. How had she, the inept persona of the day, gotten mixed in with the group she battled by night? How did she come to gain their... protection, was it? How many more lives would she be responsible for ending now that she was both a target for one group and owned by another? This was one way to wipe out the mob, she thought but squashed it down vengefully in the next second. That was not how she was supposed to handle things. She could feel a headache coming on strong and the shaking in her fingers was still there so she fisted them to hide it.
"We better get out of here before the Bat and the police show up." Ivy tugged on Brooke's arm, making her move.
"Oh no! The fuzz!" Joker giggled, swinging his arms back and forth as he followed.
"I'd just as soon not see any of them, ruin a perfectly good day." Harley mused as she linked arms with Brooke on the other side.
The shaking got a little worse.