It goes without saying that I do not own the characters used within (something which I'm sure we're all grateful for.)

Unlikely Detectives

5 - Great Minds

"Amazing," Power Girl muttered, squinting at the scarred, calloused fingertips of their mystery-man. "I've heard about people doing it, but I've never actually seen someone who's burned off their fingerprints."

"It's more common than you think," Batman muttered balefully beside her. "The skin becomes chipped and raw, leaving behind skin flakes and DNA. It's a more damning piece of evidence than an entire handprint." Meanwhile, a lack of fingerprints hadn't stopped him from pulling something new out of his utility belt. Soft light shone over their man's hand before it was tucked away again, it's job over in a heartbeat.

"Results coming through now, Sir," Alfred's voice echoed in the ear of Batman's cowl. A private frequency to be sure, but nothing that Power Girl couldn't hear. "Our mystery athlete is one Thomas Banks, a native of Gotham. No priors worth mentioning, but it appears he's undergoing treatment for paranoia and mild drug addiction. ...oh, and it appears that until last week, he was a shift manager at a Wayne Enterprises manufacturing facility."

"This is getting a little west of weird," Power Girl murmured. She could imagine just how many hundreds, if not thousands, of Gothamites Bruce had employed over the years. But the timing was an odd coincidence at the very least. "So, what happened a week ago?"

"It appears," Alfred continued, confident the conversation was kept between the three of them. "- that Mister Banks had several complaints about his conduct and work ethic brought against him. Including an accusation of stealing WayneTech components. His supervisor issued him with a final warning, but Mister Banks did not return to work following the end of his shift. And later, it was discovered that several more inventory had gone missing, though there was no proof of who was responsible."

"Sounds like Banks panicked and took what he could before running," Batman said, looking back down where Thomas Banks lay unconscious.

"Maybe it's time we asked him," Power Girl suggested. Ever since she saw him skulking around in the apartment beneath them, she wanted to shake answers out of him. "I don't suppose you keep some kind of Bat-sniffing salts in the belt…?"

"Of course I do," he answered. But surprisingly, he bent low and grabbed the slumped figure by the ankle instead. He ignored his utility belt as he lifted the dead weight of the body up and moved to the edge of the building, dangling Banks more than a dozen stories above the ground. "Wake up!" he barked.

Thomas Banks stirred, blinking in the light, and mumbling in confusion as he tried to work out where he was and what had happened. Hundreds of feet below him a car horn blared, and a look of horror spread across his features as he realised the moving spots of colour was Manhattan's traffic. He let out a wail and began kicking about, panicking, and fighting what must have surely been a horrible nightmare.

"We want to talk to you, Banks," Bruce growled again, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 'The Bat-voice,' Atlee had called it. 'For making thugs and ladies shake all over.'

Karen couldn't tell if she was joking or not and wasn't game enough to ask.

"Who are you?" Banks wailed, still busily looking "up" at the dizzying ground above him as he dangled upside down. "And how d'you know who I am?!" It was effortless for Bruce to lift the frightened suspect up, turning him around and forcing him to face him. Sightless lenses met saucer-wide eyes.

"I'm Batman," was the only answer he got before Banks found himself being jerked about. "Now tell us why you're here!"

Power Girl watched with no small amount of satisfaction as her suspected-bomber began wailing, babbling for mercy and release. Privately, she was glad Bruce was handling the interrogation. She'd have had no issue with letting him drop, waiting until the last second before swooping down and saving him from a sudden stop on the pavement.

"I was here to grab the trigger!" Banks cried, coughing and refusing to look at the ground. "The radio box that's not there anymore!"

"We've already found your toy," Batman muttered. "Just as we know it was assembled with parts stolen from Starrware. Who built it? Why target Karen Starr? And who's willing to bomb an entire office to get to her?!"

"Not an office," Banks coughed again, but this time there was laughter in his voice. Some unhinged sound. "Just her. The bitch deserves it for all the trouble she's caused." The two heroes exchanged a look. It was part of a confession, but far from everything they wanted to know.

"Starr's a humanitarian," Batman muttered. "And you are a tech thief, Banks. Explain yourself."

Banks laughed again. There was a little determination in him now. He looked almost justified, despite being hung over the edge of a high-rise by Batman. "I didn't build it. I was a manager, not a code monkey. I wish I was smart enough to make it, but that's not my role. I'm one of many, and we all preach his message."

"Who's message?" Batman hoisted him up once more, bending low and glaring behind his cowl.

"He reached out to me," Banks breathed. "Opened my eyes and showed me the way things really are. I liberated the parts he needed, and when the time came, I delivered the snare that would cut down another snake of oppression. A cancer on the common man."

"I'm losing my patience with you," Batman hissed. But Banks giggled, glaring daggers at the dark knight's cowled face.

"They reached out to me," he repeated. "They saw me for what I am. Special. I'll never betray them. Look around." Flailing, upside-down and still hanging precariously, he waved at the skyline around them. "The sun's up. You don't kill. And this isn't Gotham. I'm not afraid of some freak in a Halloween costume."

"Mind if I have a word?" Power Girl asked. Banks immediately began squirming, trying to place where this new voice came from. But his world spun as Batman lifted him back from the edge and threw him a few feet away with a careless toss.

"Be my guest," he said as the caped woman hovered above their fallen suspect. With the sun behind her, she cast a long shadow over him. He squinted behind his hand as he rolled over, trying in vain to see who she was before awareness seemed to dawn on him. A bolt of superheated energy lashed out from her eyes, narrowly missing him and burning a hole in his collar. Banks cried as burnt cotton stung his nose and he began to hyperventilate, recalling Power Girl from earlier.

"You're going to tell me exactly who you work for, where you met them, and why a bomb you planted sent an innocent woman to the emergency room this morning." Power Girls eyes began to glow angrily red again as her fists balled at her sides. "And you'll tell me now!"

"You won't kill me," he said, but there was a waver of uncertainty in his voice. "You're a hero. Like Superman." Power Girl's heat vision slashed towards him once again, cutting a scar on the rooftop beside his leg. Not hot or intense enough to break the foundation, but strong enough to send the message.

"Do I look like Superman to you?" She bent low, revealing an angry scowl on her face. Banks' eyes flickered over to the black shadow that was Batman, silently appealing for help.

"As you said," he gravelled in an answer. "This isn't my city, and we're a long way from Gotham."

"And I'm out of patience." Power Girl's eyes glowed like hot coals as she landed on the roof, pinning Banks down with a boot on top of his ribcage. "You're right – I won't kill you. But you can live without your manhood." The red of her eyes burned brighter as she turned her head, glaring at the spot between his legs, ready to slice into the ground with her heat vision.

"Okay!" The shriek was almost ear-splitting as Banks tried to reach under his dirty button-up shirt. With no small amount of difficulty, he produced a key card on a link chain, like some sacred talisman worn to ward off wickedness. "The docks! Tonight, at nine, there's a meeting, warehouse number-"

"We'll find it," Power Girl interrupted. She snatched the chain and broke it with a squeeze of her fingers, reaching lower and poised to flick Banks in the head. "Bedtime, Banks."

She flicked, striking him across the face and rendering him unconscious once more. With some of her anger ebbing away, she stood and offered the key card over her shoulder, allowing Batman to take it for inspection.

"I'm surprised you didn't catch this earlier with your x-ray vision," he murmured, studying the name and number of a security number on the plastic.

"I did," She said, glaring down at Thomas Banks' figure. "I just didn't feel like going easy on him…" Power Girl sniffed. She expected the ever-serious, always-professional Batman to frown at her or tut, but it would have been worth it..

Instead, she was surprised to turn and find him smirking ever so slightly.

"Keep that up, and we'll have to find a bat for your uniform," he remarked.

Maybe it was thanks to venting some of her frustrations or the satisfaction of finding a fresh lead towards catching her mystery bomber. Whatever the reason, Karen felt her lips curling a little as she arched her eyebrow and shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

"I'm not sure you could afford me," she smirked. "Besides – I'm more of the sentimental kind of girl."

"I'm well aware," Batman hummed, turning his attention once more to the unconscious Banks nearby. Power Girl let him work, telling herself that her hobbies and snow globe collection made it pretty obvious she wasn't interested in cash.

After all – master detective or not, even Batman couldn't possibly know about her tank top and sleeping briefs. The ones that were covered with little bat symbols that she picked up from an outlet in Gotham some months ago. Right…?

It was late in the afternoon when Karen found herself back at the hospital, but with Bruce waiting at the entrance with a fresh bunch of flowers. After dropping Thomas Banks off with the local police precinct, the pair had parted ways. She returned to her office, stealthily changing back into her business suit, glasses and red wig before the deluge of phone calls came. Between fending off the media for interviews and proposals from security companies, she was starting to think that Batman had the right idea: she could do with a Lucius Fox of her own, maybe.

While apart, she wasn't sure just what Bruce did with his time. She expected he would have checked into a room and caught up on the sleep that her case had taken from him, or even returned to Gotham for a time. It was an inside joke in the Justice League that he probably developed a rash when he was away from the stone gargoyles for too long. But surprisingly, when she needed to escape from the chaos of her office, he was ready to go at the drop of a hat. It hardly surprised her to find him waiting at the hospital by the time she hopped off the nearest subway.

"One of these days, I'm going to work out how you're able to vanish and reappear without folks like me keeping up," Karen said as she met him. Dressed smart but casual, and holding a bunch of colourful carnations, Bruce Wayne smiled and fell into step beside her as they stepped into the lobby.

"If you do, keep it a secret. You'll drive Clark nuts."

She imagined that it would, too.

It was with mixed feelings that Karen walked through the hallways this time. Their footsteps made loud clicking noises that echoed around them, and the ever-present scent of disinfectant still invaded her nostrils. But there was also the masculine scent of whatever cologne Bruce wore that was easier to focus on. The thump of his heartbeat, so much stronger and healthier than the less fortunate around them. She knew he worked diligently to keep himself in peak condition, but still. It was a welcome distraction.

Besides – he was a handsome man, and she was a woman. There was nothing wrong with a little window shopping, right?

"I've found our warehouse tonight, too," he murmured as they walked. "The Eastside, facing Gotham and the Hudson. If their day shift is a skeleton crew, I can only imagine how many others like Banks will be in attendance tonight."

"Someone's been a busy boy," Karen hummed. And to think – she assumed he'd just go and sleep like a normal, non-Batman person. Silly Kara. "Points of entry?"

"Two – not including any that some of us may make," Bruce said, giving her a sideways look. Karen put a hand to her chest, pretending to look offended.

"I'm shocked and hurt that you'd imply something there, Bruce."

"I'm sure you'll heal, too," he remarked, and Karen realised that she had officially joined the short list of Justice Leaguers who enjoyed an actual repartee with Batman.

"You're lucky I like you," she hummed, arriving at the door of Charlotte's room and giving him a coy glance.

"Likewise," was all he said, in that insufferably smooth Bruce Wayne playboy persona. And a sudden, irrational annoyance settled over her. For a fraction of a second, she wanted to reach up and flick him in the head for it, too. But Karen stomped the urge down, narrowing her eyes as he looked away before holding the door open for her.

"Charlotte…? How are you feeling?" It was a relief to see that the younger woman was awake once again, and with a little more colour on her face. She sat up with a smile.

"Twice in one day, Miss Starr? I'm taking too much of your time!"

"Like hell you are," Karen urged, pulling a seat close and sitting down. She almost felt Bruce hovering back and, her sudden irritability gone, she made a noise and gestured to him. "Sorry, I hope you don't mind, but I've brought a friend along. Charlotte, this is Bruce."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Stein," he said in that charming, affable way of his. He stepped forward and gently took her hand in his, squeezing it softly and earning a little flush of colour on Charlotte's cheeks. Not that Karen could blame her – he was able to act like quite the ladies man when he wanted to. Of course, she knew better. After all, that's all it was. An act. "I hope you don't mind, but I brought some flowers for your room. Though I see you have much nicer ones, already."

"Ah, yes. Karen did today," she explained, flushing brighter.

"Well, I trust her sense of colour over mine any day," Bruce smiled, and Karen could almost see the younger woman's ovaries about to explode. And the worst part was, Bruce was being nothing more than a handsome gentleman. There wasn't a trace of phoney, drunken, lady-killing mischief about him. "I think I'll see if I can't find another vase, all the same. Be back in a moment."

As soon as the door shut behind him, Charlotte let out a squeak. "Karen! Was he your date last night?" Karen blinked hard.

"With Bruce? Oh, no," she said, shaking her head. "No, his name was Frank. And he was… well…" She trailed off. In truth, she'd hardly even thought about Franklin since everything happened. And when stacked up to someone like Batman, well… what could she possibly say?

"Frank's got a bit more of a funny bone than Bruce has," she settled with. Sure, he was also good looking, but now thanks to Charlotte, she couldn't help but compare Frank to a man like Bruce. And it wasn't a fair fight at all.

"Anyway!" Karen clapped her hands, eager to change the subject. "I know this might be awkward to talk about, Charlotte, but I have to ask – do you remember much of what happened last night…?"

Charlotte's face screwed up a little, and it hurt Karen to think that she was making her focus on something so horrible. But it was something both she and Bruce firmly agreed on – as a witness, she wasn't just valuable: she was potentially in danger.

"Not really," she said carefully, her brows knitting together as she tried to concentrate. "There were two boxes just inside the lobby door. Just… parcels, really. One from Italy, and the other from New York, so I guessed they were just dropped off by a courier. But they were both addressed to you, so I took them up to your office." She smiled awkwardly and chewed her lip, but the creases in her forehead spoke volumes about how uncomfortable she was about it all.

"I guessed that your snow globe had arrived, and you'd appreciate having it earlier. I didn't even think about leaving the other box in the mail cart. Guess I messed up, huh?"

"Oh, no. Never." Karen reached out and gently took her hand. "Hey – you know something? You're a hero, Charlotte. Think about it. You saved my life!" She smiled at her, but the IV and monitors and surgical scar she saw sucked some of the strength out of her words. "I'm just sorry it came at this cost."

"Oh, it's okay," Charlotte grinned as the door to the room opened again. "The doctors tell me that there won't be any lasting damage. In fact, if I save up, I may even be able to afford a little light cosmetic work over at the Elliot Memorial Hospital in Gotham. I'm told they're working on some meshes so I won't have to live with a plate in my arm."

"Actually," came Bruce's voice as he appeared around the curtain, a fresh vase with flowers in his hand. "I happen to know some of the staff over there. If you do decide you want to try something, Miss Stein, I'm sure we'll be able to give you the VIP treatment. After all – you're quite the superhero for saving Karen's life."

Charlotte's cheeks went tomato red, and she giggled. Karen could only smirk. Even if it was something as clinical as surgery, Bruce was able to make things seem so glamorous and flattering. But, then, he had been both bankrupt and a billionaire over and again, more times than the ex-President Luthor. Of course, he was a natural when it came to spinning an accident.

"I was just telling her that," she smirked, all while Bruce came on the other side of Charlotte's bed and placed the flowers down. He gave Karen a sideways look before leaning closer to the young woman, speaking in a stage-whisper.

"Great minds think alike, Miss Stein."

Karen sighed. She couldn't get annoyed at Bruce's coy little act. It was perhaps the most bashful and excited she'd ever seen Charlotte, and he wasn't doing anything inappropriate. Not like what Kal - Clark - wrote about him doing from time to time, like absconding with Russian gymnasts. Though she would bet good money that it was all fabricated, anyway.

"Well, as long as the tv has more channels in Gotham, sign me up," Charlotte grinned. "I had no idea how awful daytime shows had become!"

"I couldn't say," Bruce smiled easily. "I usually only tune in if there's an old re-run of The Grey Ghost."

"Knock knock," came a sudden new voice from the doorway. A doctor strolled in looking at a clipboard before he glanced up and made a surprised face, clearing his throat. "Oh, I'm sorry, but visiting hours are about to end for the day."

"Right, of course," Karen agreed. She didn't like leaving Charlotte be, but at least with the visiting hours over with, she would be safe from anyone with Banks' level of mania. All the same…

"A joy to meet you again, Miss Stein," Bruce said, smiling as he once again squeezed her hand gently and moved out of the way. Karen bent low and quietly asked for one more moment, grateful that Bruce immediately nodded and left the room.

"So, this is… odd, but I want you to have something for now." Karen reached into her pocket and withdrew a small, discreet Justice League distress beacon – nothing more than a small, bevelled box with a button in the middle. "Your new friend Power Girl gave me this to give to you," she said with a wink, loving how Charlotte's eyes lit up when she mentioned that they were friends.

"Miss Starr! What… what is it?" She held it carefully, like it was a delicate egg.

"It's for emergencies only," Karen said. "Keep it close and don't let the doctors take it from you. Hide it in your bedside table if need be. But… here's the thing." She took the younger woman's hand reassuringly. "I don't want to scare you. The hospital will soon be closed for visitors, and that's good. But until we know who's responsible for the bombing, you may be at risk."

"You really think…?" Charlotte's eyebrows knitted together again, and Karen held a palm up to try and soothe her.

"It's only a precaution. But! If you suspect anything is wrong, or you get a guest you don't recognise – anything at all like that – you press this button. And Power Girl or someone else from the Justice League will be here as soon as possible."

"I'm not sure all this fuss is really necessary, Miss Starr," she said awkwardly. But Karen was having none of it.

"It most certainly is. You're a hero now yourself, remember? Bruce and I both said so." She stood and smiled as Charlotte tucked the beacon down beneath the covers of the bed, nodding.

"Miss Starr…? I think I may have a concussion," Charlotte admitted quietly a moment later. Karen frowned.

"Why do you think that?"

"Your friend, Bruce? He looks like Bruce Wayne."

"Oh…" It was her turn to lean closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. "It's okay – he is Bruce Wayne." Behind her fake glasses, Karen winked as Charlotte turned beet red. And then she turned and waved goodbye, leaving the room before the doctor had a chance to come back and chase her out. Behind her, through the wall, her heightened hearing caught Charlotte softly gasping in amazement.

"Sorry for the wait," Karen said, joining Bruce in the hallway outside. He nodded, once again becoming quiet and impassive now that they were once again alone.

"Perfectly fine," he mused as they began walking together towards the exit. And then quietly, out of the blue, he asked: "You loaned her a distress beacon?"

Karen felt her eyebrow arch. "You really are the world's greatest detective, aren't you?"

"I try. Also…" He reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small component, of similar shape and design to the one she had given Charlotte. Only, of course, it was black and shaped like a bat, with a more advanced look about it. Karen laughed and shook her head.

"Great minds think alike," she hummed as they strolled through the lobby before her playfulness got the better of her. "So. The Grey Ghost, huh?"

"A masked hero who fought crime from the shadows. We all have our childhood heroes, Karen."

"Oh, no need to explain it to me. I caught a few episodes when I landed back in Kansas. Simon Trent was such an easy crush to have," she grinned. And Bruce laughed. It was a rich timbre that came up from his chest and was pleasant to listen to.

"Great minds, indeed."

AN: My better half and I both agree that in his prime, Adam West was a handsome, foxy bugger. So why wouldn't his TAS alter ego Simon Trent be, too? Easy crushes, indeed!