Chapter 7 Tis the Season (or How Will History Remember You?)
A/N: In my world Jack Drake didn't die or loose his business and Bruce never officially adopted Tim. And never worry about leaving too many reviews; they're like Milk Duds- there's no such number as too many and they only encourage me ;)
Some cities were just built for things. Paris was where a person went to fall in love, Hollywood to feel like a star, and Metropolis to feel small against such colossal buildings and happenings. Gotham was a city of extremes, you were either the very best or the worst, and there was no such thing as a middle ground. Christmas was made for cities like Gotham. Despite the high crime rate, tourists flocked in to see the city outdo itself every year.
It just annoyed Helena.
Granted it was probably the no plans on Christmas thing, rather than the Santa display in the toy store. She wished she could be putting in work at the hospital, but the downside to working in the offices rather than being an on-call doctor is that the offices are generally closed on major holidays. She finally empathized with people who weren't Christian. When she was done with her "errand" she'd have to get some Chinese ala "Christmas Story".
Helena's "errand" came from the realization that while Christmas sucked for her; most people were at home with family or out drinking with friends. It afforded her a rare opportunity to do something she'd been trying to do for weeks. Get the confidential adoption papers from the Gotham Hall of Records.
They should be public, but apparently not all were. At least not according to the bitchy lady Helena had been haggling with all week between school and work. In Helena's view, records are public and if some underpaid government employee isn't going to give them to her, she'll just take them.
So instead of spending Christmas unwrapping overpriced, overdecorated presents under a gaudy tree, Helena was learning that crawling in air ducts is not as easy as it looks in the movies. It's hollow tin that is extremely hard to keep quiet crawling in. Next time, she would study the blue prints longer for a better point of entry.
'Next time…where the hell did that come from?' Helena wondered as she came to the air duct she would make her graceful descent from.
Anyone who saw said graceful descent would seriously doubt the black-clad figure ever was in gymnastics, let alone qualified for the Olympics. She looked around the room. Instead of being greeted with computers and perhaps even some file cabinets, she saw urinals.
If they didn't give it away the smell would have, how could she not tell it was a men's room from that alone. With no desire to return to the sardine can, she decided the rest of this little adventure would be conducted on foot. Thanking God for her photographic memory she began flipping through blueprints trying to figure out where she was as she slipped out the door.
It didn't take her long to figure out where she was and within a matter of minutes she was searching for the confidential files containing her adoption information. She had yet to met anyone and wondered why she even bothered with stealth. It was Christmas, what kind of loser would be guarding the place?
She got her answer after only finding which agency her parents used. She was lucky she even saw the beam of light coming down the hall. Making up for her earlier lack of grace she quickly and smoothly propelled herself to the ceiling, bracing herself up in time for the lonely guard to check out the mysteriously running computer. He looked at the running machine and shone his light wildly around the room, squeaking, "Who's there?"
Helena rolled her eyes. Did he really expect an answer? Still she could think of nothing worse than getting caught by some fidgety guard would seemed likely to piss himself over his imagined foe.
Turns out she didn't have to imagine, things got worse all by themselves. Once the guard got over the potentially real fear, he began acting out his victory in conquering the would-be-thief, acting as a strange mixture of James Bond and Batman. Helena didn't have the time or patience for this crap. After awhile he started surfing the web, looking at questionable websites and dancing a little too enthusiastically to bad music.
When he left, hours later, Helena lowered herself from her hiding spot. Her arms ached but she the one in her head was far more pronounced. She knew she should really search more, but after that she could not get out of the building fast enough. She tossed stealth aside as she ran for the nearest exit. Chinese, she needed some Sesame Chicken and fried rice immediately.
The aristocracy were an interesting breed of people. World wars, aliens, demented clowns; nothing fazed them as long as the champagne flowed in generous amounts. Generation after generation produced distinctively different people and yet the traditions remained the same. Which is why the only remaining Wayne threw the same Christmas Ball that was thrown as far back as recorded history could recall.
As far back as Tim Drake could remember the guest list was pretty much the same too. Sure the actual people invited year to year changed, but it was the same families, business leaders, and nuevo rich of the day. Of course, Bruce Wayne had to attend his own party as well, along with his nurse.
Tim always felt mixed feelings seeing Cassie. He had decided to hang up his cape after college, Cassie didn't. It was the turning point in their relationship the ultimately lead to a break-up. Still, Tim couldn't help but feel something for the woman who understood him in a way, even his wife couldn't.
The mixed feelings were not helped by the fact that he currently saw Cassie engaging in a conversation with his wife. Other than himself, he knew of no common ground between the two women. It made him nervous. In fact he couldn't think of a worse sight until he saw Laura Luthor (Lex's daughter from his third marriage) making a beeline for him.
He wanted to duck out somehow, but was pinned by a fat, inebriated man who was always quick to use his title as a third and a group of gold-digging debutants hanging off the newest billionaire on his left. He found he had no choice but let her pitch her business proposal to the head of Wayne Industries yet again.
"Tim Drake, I am so happy to see you."
Tim forced a fake smile to return hers. He took a moment to study her, searching for a true compliment. She was dressed perfectly as always, with just the right amount of class, cleavage, and power. If it weren't for her last name, Tim might have been forced to admit her beauty. "Laura Luthor, you look great as always."
She leaned forward with a whisper. "Have you thought about what we discussed?"
Another thing Tim was forced to respect was her ability to get straight down to business. She exercised her subtly in other areas. "For the last time, Wayne Industries has no desire to work with a Luthor."
She gave a small pout that Tim might have found sexy or endearing on a different woman. "I'm truly hurt. I would think a compassionate man such as yourself would be a little more receptive to second chances. I have worked hard to scrub away the taint my father left on the Luthor name."
He wanted to roll his eyes but managed to downgrade it to a grunt laugh. "You mean the taint caused those dastardly plots that always included the death of Superman? Yeah, I'm pretty sure your brother is carrying on that legacy."
Her eyes hardened to steel. "I have little control over my younger half-brother."
"But you help him."
She gave a little smirk. "Prove it, Mr. Drake."
He truly wished he could, but the evidence was circumstantial at best. Tim blasted on though, unwilling to let her win anything. "You visit him whenever he lands himself in jail, and he always escapes shortly after."
Her eyes never lost that cool edge. Didn't even flinch. "My brother may be a fool, but he's the only family I have. Is it so bad that I visit him?"
Tim finished his drink, finally giving him an out. "Still, Wayne Industries is not yet willing to ally itself to Luthorcorp."
She stopped him before he could get away, handing him her card. "Here's my card anyway. Think on it, Drake. I can play nice or I can wait until the old man retires and buy up all those stocks."
He stopped cold and adopted his version of the Batman voice. "Bruce Wayne would never allow it."
She gave another little smirk and lowered her voice to a menacing tone. "Despite fucking every woman in Gotham, Bruce Wayne has no heir, not even an illegitimate one. He has no one to leave his company to. Who is there? That cop son? His nursemaid?"
Tim stood up taller. "I'm here."
She leaned in further, speaking near his ear almost like a lover. "Your father can't stay CEO of Drake Industries either, Timmy. Blood beats all. Do you really think that Bruce Wayne is going to allow you to run his family's legacy under the name Drake?"
"Are you threatening me, Laura?"
She pulled herself back, facing him again. "No. I'm stating my observations and intentions. Call me. Wayne Industries is weak and I won't be the only vulture around to pick up the pieces, but I'm willing to play nice while it still has some strength. Think on it. You could do worse."
She walked away. Tim thought on her disturbing words. He'd known the truth of them for a while now, but didn't think anyone else had seen the weakness. Only years of being Robin gave Tim the ability not to jump when Bruce's voice snuck up on him.
"She's dangerous."
Tim took a moment to compose himself before answering. "No more than Lex was."
Tim turned to face Bruce, and saw the calculating look that was more familiar behind a cowl. "No. Laura Luthor learned subtly, something her father never did. It's not an accident there's no definitive proof she's ever followed her father's footsteps in anything but legit business."
Tim shrugged. "She's got her brother for that. He got all Luthor's ego minus the brain to back it up. Think she'll ever succeed and we'll live in a world without Superman too?"
Bruce ignored the implication of the word too. "I think Jason is better suited to her than Clark would have been. He never learned much about subtly either."
Tim gave a small chuckle. "Jason doesn't know too much about subtly either, he's just an investigator."
"Like his mother."
Tim had no desire to even touch on Bruce's relationship with Clark's wife, so he changed the subject. "Speaking of Jason his favorite reporter is here."
Gina Vale had caught his eye earlier. Jason dislikes Gina almost as much as Laura because as a journalist, she should be better. He calls her bloodthirsty with no principles or standards. Though he wasn't as connected as he used to be, Tim knew Jason blamed himself for Cardinal's death, thinking his father never would have let it happen, and refuses to let her out anyone else in his league.
Bruce dismissed her. "Miss Vale will find no story in Gotham."
Determined to get a rise out of Bruce, Tim threw one more thing out before leaving him to refill his drink and join his wife and ex, "Selina Kyle is here too."
It was only slight stiffing of his back and narrowed eyes, but Tim counted it.
Bruce knew she had been invited. He had no choice; she was now the chair of the board of directors of the Gotham Art Museum. The best they'd ever had in fact. She managed to get pieces that were thought to be lost forever. Some of pieces that Bruce suspected went missing because of Selina.
He never could quite figure out if she was helping the museum out of atonement or boredom. She had gone legit for the few years they dated, and just never went back. She claimed to Bruce she couldn't face Batman as a criminal anymore.
Bruce couldn't figure out if she was telling the truth or not.
He never really could figure out Selina, period. It was what he loved and hated about her. Furthermore, his feelings for her were just as alluding. Even tonight, he jumped from wishing to seeing her and hoping she didn't bother to show.
But she was here. He just needed to find her, or wait for her to find him.
It was like being back on a rooftop.
Cassie could care less about Meredith Drake's little girl, Dedre. She probably should care more about Tim Drake's daughter, but she could only feel for the man, not the offspring he had with this woman. Cassie had gotten some pleasure from Tim's nervous look when he saw them talking, but she didn't actually start the conversation with Meredith to rile Tim, she just didn't know all that many people here. That didn't stop her, however, from enjoying the feeling of his watching his eyes on her.
She did not enjoy watching him encircle his arms around his wife, though. Meredith giggled, leaning back into him. Tim pretended to just notice Cassie, "Hello, Cassie. Is my wife behaving herself around you, or will I have to contradict every story she told?"
Meredith gave him a light smack on the shoulder. "You and your ego. You didn't even come up."
They continued to flirt. Cassie wished she could force up a smile, but it just wasn't in her nature.
Tim took on a more serious tone. "Cassie, Bruce was looking for you."
She nodded and left. It wasn't until she spotted Bruce that she realized she should have excused herself. Manners would never be her strong suit. She finally caught up with Bruce. "You wanted me?"
He seemed distracted. "What? No." He looked around before focusing in on Cassie. "Wait. We should leave."
Cassie eyed him suspiciously. The only reason he had come was to see Lucius, and she knew Bruce had yet to really speak to the man. "You want me to go get the car?"
He rejected that idea. "No. I can't do that." Cassie moved to leave but Bruce managed to catch her arm. "Have you seen Selina Kyle?"
His behavior finally clicked in Cassie's mind. She was about to respond in the negative when she caught sight of the woman behind Bruce. She managed a smile before Selina's own silky voice responded. "You found her, stud."
Bruce whipped around faster than should be possible. Cassie moved away from them but kept her eyes on them. Catwoman was the one villain Batman had trouble handling.
Bruce let his eyes fall over Selina's figure like they always did. As far as he could tell, the only effect time had on Selina's appearance were some wrinkles around her eyes and less provocative clothes. "Selina."
She gave a little smirk. "Present."
Bruce never could appreciate her strange sense of humor. "It's been a while."
She took a sip from her champagne glass, keeping her eyes on him. "Some would say far too long."
He gave her a soft smile. "How have you been?"
Her eyes danced. "Good. Yourself?"
The smile evaporated. "I walk with a cane now."
Selina's eyes narrowed. "I can see that."
Bruce studied her face. "How's the art business?"
She shrugged. "Can't complain."
"I would think it would be less beneficial than previously."
Her eyes flashed in anger, but she quickly recovered. She heard the start of a new song and the mischief returned to her eyes. "Hey, handsome, how about a dance?"
Bruce tightened his grip on his cane. Nearly forty years and her teasing still got to him. "Don't know if I can, what with the cane and all."
She flashed those green orbs that seduce him so. "Don't worry Bruce, I won't let you fall."
So he led her out to the floor.
Bruce didn't like touching Selina. Okay, that was a complete lie; he loved it. But every time they got this close he was transported back to other moments they were this close, which encompassed a lot of moments in their extensive history. Every grabbed wrist, blocked high-kick, and inappropriate grope in the darkness. Every completely appropriate grope in bed, soft whispers of fingers and lips against skin, and brushed away hair to see those irresistible eyes. Every wet thumb from brushing away tears, stinging check from breaking her heart again, and clenched fist from not running after her. Everything blurred with her, enemy and lover, past and present, good and bad, and Bruce had no control over any of it.
He was convinced it was her eyes; those green pools a man could happily drown in. They were all-knowing, stripping down everything before them while keeping their own secrets well hidden. Bruce never understood why every writer in history was so damn obsessed with waxing poetic about eyes until he met Selina Kyle.
Cassie watched the pair dance. She could see them talking but they were moving too much for her to get a good reading to know what they were say. She would never let Bruce's weakness befall her. She would never let herself fall for the enemy. She had loved once. That was enough. Love was too dangerous; it can destroy you if your not careful. She was so wrapped up in her musings she didn't even hear the commissioner approach her until he started talking.
"Hello. I'm Ethan Grant. Who are you?"
She was surprised he was talking to her. She had actually grown to know him as Batwoman, but he had no idea that's who she was. Cassie couldn't quite figure out what Ethan Grant would want to talk about with Bruce Wayne's nursemaid. "Cassie."
She turned her attention back to the couple; not noticing the hand Ethan offered her in greeting. Selina was laughing. "I'm sorry to bother you but you seem to be the only other person here who isn't a member of the press or wait staff, or filthy rich."
Cassie turned her attention back to the Police Commissioner. So that was his problem, he felt out of place. "I'm Mr. Wayne's nurse." This time she did shake his hand.
He seemed pleased. "Bruce Wayne? I've heard about him. Has he treated you inappropriately?"
Cassie scowled. "Of course not."
It bothered her to no end that after all he did for the city, for the world, Bruce Wayne would be remembered as nothing but a dumb playboy turned lecherous old man.
Ethan was smart enough to know when to drop a subject. "So, did you get what you wanted for Christmas?"
All Cassie wanted for Christmas was a gift-wrapped Riddler. "Not exactly."
Ethan studied her for a moment. It was a long enough moment that Cassie felt the urge to glare at him. "You don't talk much do you? Are you shy?"
She turned her attention back to Bruce who was starting on a second song with Selina. "Not really."
Ethan chuckled a bit to himself. "Most women I know are only too eager to talk a man's ear off."
She looked at him again. "Well, I'm not most woman."
He gave a deeper laugh and leaned in with a whisper. "I could tell that from across the room."
Before she had time to respond, Killer Moth burst in the door. Ethan's eyes focused in on the Rogue. Cassie's eyes found Bruce's in the crowd, and by the time Ethan returned his attention back to the woman he'd been talking to, she was gone.
Tim could not understand why anyone would ever emulate Killer Moth. Talk about lame villains. Cassie had him beat in twenty minutes, and it would have been five if the Moth hadn't taken a hostage.
He almost mentioned something to Meredith, but she was still scared by what she considered to be a dangerous encounter. So, she probably wasn't exactly his best option.
He nearly sighed as he turned his SUV into the parking garage. Sometimes, he wished he would have stayed. Stayed as a vigilante, stayed with Cassie. He had seen her talking with Ethan Grant earlier, and it bothered him more than he'd like to admit.
A/N: So I need to stop doing the majority of the work on these in one night and submitting them right after so I can make them better. Fixing typos and adding more development. Sigh. Someday I might go back, but for now my not-so-perfect system will do.