16

The sun seemed horribly bright after the dirty, clouded air in the bank.

Jasmine gave Gordon the location of the survivors and the all clear to go in. When she turned around, he dad was yanking at the Velcro on his vest.

As she walked up to him, he turned and glared her down.

"When were you going to tell me Jack was involved?"

"You think I could've planted the virus without someone to set it up for me?"

His breath clicked. "The information isolation virus was you? How many laws have you broken today alone?"

She peeled her own vest off, glad to have the air move around her again. "I didn't feel like I had a choice. Jack's always been a good friend; I couldn't just not listen or help."

"Zeke was a good friend, or so I thought. How long have you been involved with Napier?"

"I don't know, a few weeks, couple of months." She put her knife back where it belonged. "Look, at the time I didn't have a lot of options."

"And now?" He challenged.

Jasmine put her hands on her back and leaned against them until her spine popped. "I've got you on my side."

He softened, but didn't relent. "I should have picked up when you called."

"I'm a cop, Dad, I know why you didn't."

"I should have known you were a detective, I should have known you and Zoe weren't working together."

"It's okay."

He leaned back against the van, and watched Gotham's best bring people from the bank to family and friends. "I should have been there when everything blew up in your face."

"Look, Dad," she stopped as the coroner's van backed in.

He cleared his throat. "I'll be there next time, princess. I promise."

"I know you will, Daddy."

Brian gripped her in a bone crushing hug, which she tried to return. After a second, he let go, and walked towards the street to call a cab.

The taxi dropped them off at Jasmine's car in Wayne's parking garage. She started the engine and noticed a note with Alfred's perfect handwriting on it. Ripping open the flap, she scanned it quickly.

Miss,

Meet us at the storage and bring Mr. Richards.Master Wayne has informed him duly.

Regards,

Pennyworth

Groaning, she backed out and took the side streets to avoid traffic.

At the containers, her father's mouth tightened, but he didn't say anything. When the elevator descended, he made a clutch at the wall, but recovered quickly. Jasmine knew he had to have been exhausted after all that had happened since his visit to Zeke.

It was no surprise that Alfred had food out when they arrived. Jack was clearly well past his first plates, and Bruce was filling a second.

"So, Batman," Brian began ominously. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't turn you in."

"Because your daughter's involved." Bruce said mildly, raising a set of tongs that dangled lunchmeat. "Besides, you're curious about what we know, and what we have to offer. Take a look," He motioned towards the monitor on a workbench. "Password is on the sticky tab, Jack forgets."

"Drop dead," the operative rebutted. He still had red around his mouth scars that hadn't washed off, making him look really bizarre.

Brian pulled up the files Bruce named, and read them without a word. After about an hour, he turned to face them, and looked each in the eye before speaking.

"To sum up: Zeke has been connected with the mob for years. He turned in Unit 40, carved Jack's face, and sent some thugs to snap his brother Chris. Chris is the real Joker; Jack is covering his tracks to save the family. Am I right so far?"

They nodded.

"You began working with the…face of the Joker to keep the trail alive. Zeke has connections to the Gotham Police, government and so on. When Jasmine unknowingly uncovered his connections to another city's crime, he put her in a situation to discredit her. He played on mine and my family's preoccupation with our own affairs to turn things in his favor. You offered her a job out of curiosity, and found that she had the history and potential mindset to help with this whole caped crusader ploy."

They nodded again.

"You gave her virus to bring me or someone like me here. What puzzles me is how you moved any small players out of the way to clear a path to Zeke."

Jack was rubbing his gut, wriggling like a worm in his chair. "Your little girl worked undercover for night. The police caught and pulled names from the man she helped arrest. He happened to be the son of one mobster. Can anyone tell me why I eat potatoes?"

"Not why you eat six plates of them." Bruce rejoined habitually while watching Brian.

The government man studied the floor and shook his head. "What next?"

"We have to clear both Zeke and Chris out of the way." Bruce answered, pulling his chair over by Brian. "If Chris is ignored, his brain will go completely, and there won't be a snowflake's chance in July of stopping him. If we leave Zeke, he's going to come after Jasmine and then every other member of your family. He won't just let a little blood this time."

"Agreed."

Jack popped from his place at the table to the group by the computer. "Chris goes to jail; we have trouble on our hands. Zeke lives, Gotham can't touch the weasel and we die. We have to get them together with a dual arrest plan and a major blow out if that fails."

"And do you have such a plan?"

"Oh, yeah, I've got a backup to the backup to the backup plan."

Brian cleared his throat. "You are the guy who jumped out of a fifth floor window today. I don't want your plan."

They began all talking at once, and Jasmine could see the excited gleam in her father's eyes. It had been a long time since he was so eager to be involved in anything. She smiled, and caught sight of Alfred's face. He was removed, as always, but she caught the telltale hint of a bittersweet curve at the corner of his lips.

"How long have you been helping Bruce with this?" She asked.

He thought for a moment. "Going on three years or more now, I suppose. Why do you want to know, Miss?"

She had to consider her answer, she wasn't really sure. "I guess, because it would help me answer something about myself."

He sat beside her and patted her hand. "You don't have to be the one to go through with it."

"Can you think of another way?"

"Not off the top of my head, but that doesn't mean there isn't a second choice."

"This time, I don't think there is."

They watched the others for a moment, and then Alfred returned to cleaning up the impeccable kitchen area. "Have you considered what comes after?"

Jasmine had considered 'after'. After The Joker was caught, after Zeke was caged, after this, after that. It had always been the next case or art project for her, the next week to the next paycheck when she would pay her bills, put some in the bank, and invest the rest. She didn't have anyone special or any children to think about didn't have any close friends outside of the men gathered there and Rachel. She didn't club, didn't shop, and didn't have any of a thousand countless little obsessions to keep her looking forward to the years following retirement. To be honest, for Jasmine Richards there had never been an after.

"No," was all she said. Then standing added, "Gordon will happily kill me tomorrow when I present him with the plan, so after isn't a problem."

"How do you know your father will agree?" Alfred asked.

She gave him wry look. "So, you've helped Batman for about three years, and Bruce his whole life. Do you think my dad stands a chance of refusal?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No, I don't think he does."

Walking towards the bathroom, she saw some papers scattered over Jack's cot. One caught her eye briefly.

It was a very battered child's pencil sketch of a friend.