Long grass waved in the breeze, ripples rolling for what seemed like miles. Fence posts stuck out of the ground at somewhat even intervals. Each post was connected with barbed wire. Based on how weathered the fence looked, it had been placed at least a hundred years ago.

The sky was blue, white fluffy clouds sparsely floating overhead. A lone road broke out the monotony save for what looked like a little house off in the distance.

Selina hated it with every fiber of her being.

She was dressed to the nines, stiletto heels giving her a few added inches. A fur coat hung off of her shoulders, a wide brim hat offering her some shade. God, she was soaking in sweat. The price she paid for looking stylish.

She was standing next to her car, brand spanking new off of the car lot. It was parked behind another car, a mustang if she wasn't mistaken. Standing next to the sports car was Nick, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So what do you think?" he asked enthusiastically.

"I think you couldn't find a more boring place if you tried," Selina drawled. Looking over her shoulder, she could see the skyline of Gotham. How she longed to be back in that concrete jungle.

"Hey, you're the one that told me to go looking for land," Nick pointed out. "I found every acre you could possibly ask for and more."

Well, he wasn't wrong. Looking over the farmland, she could see for miles in either direction and not see another living soul. It honestly wasn't that bad. "How much do you think you can get?" she asked.

"Depends on how much money is in our pocketbook," her cousin shrugged. "I've tracked down the landowners out here, most of whom are small time farmers. It won't be hard to convince them to sell to us."

Selina raised an eyebrow. "Convince?"

A cheeky smile appeared on Nick's face before his cheek puffed out. "I'm gonna make 'em an offer they can't refuse," he said in a sad attempt at a Marlon Brando impersonation.

"Let me guess, take the money I'm offering or I'm gonna break your legs and set fire to your house."

Nick stared at her. "You didn't have to give away the ending, you know."

Selina rolled her eyes. It was typical thug tactics, but hey, they worked. Who was she to argue with results? There was a lot of land out here and she imagined a lot of it had been passed down from generation to generation. There were going to be some holdouts and naturally they would be at the center of where she wanted to develop.

That was how everything would unfold, mark her words.

"Then start buying," she told the mop-topped man. "Get with Chris and get every last acre you can. Do what you can to play nice, but if you end up making a donut around some idiot farmer's land, then do what you have to do. We have competition trying to pitch this thing already, so the more prepared we look, the better chance we have at winning."

"Will do," Nick responded. "Money isn't an object, right?"

"Get me bottom dollar preferable. You can go up if you have to, but don't break my bank account."

Her cousin stared at her. "You sure you want to go cheap here? We're more likely to get what we want if we throw the cash out."

"And cause every farmer to think they can take us out to the cleaners?" she scoffed. "We may have money, but we don't have that much. We're already looking at millions here. I'd rather spend ten million than a hundred million. After all, we have to build the plant and we need funds for that as well. Lord knows we've spent quite a bit on greasing the wheels."

Chris had been hard at work there. He had been keeping his actions discreet, which she appreciated. It had also given them the extra bonus of learning when Max Shreck was making his move. He was already meeting with the various members of the City Council, weighing the likelihood of their cooperation. They just had to pay those politicians off to keep Shreck from getting approval and permits and the like.

Speaking of…

It seemed Chris was going to need to start filing for their own permits and the like. Selina was certain he could do that with ease; he was a lawyer after all.

"I guess I'll start making the offers tomorrow," Nick then said.

"Start now," Selina countered. "The sooner we start, the sooner this gets done. Keep me updated with who's buying and who's not. Now if you don't mind, I'm getting the hell out of here. All of this fresh air is messing with my allergies."


There were many men that held positions of power and prestige. In ancient times, these were men of strength and skill, warrior kings that proved their valor and ability in every engagement. That eventually turned to those that assumed power, creating societal barriers that kept them in power, turning it over from generation to generation. Those people held those positions barring some descendant didn't screw it up.

However, time had weakened the barriers that allowed others to assume these coveted positions. The Industrial Revolution allowed those of the merchant class to accumulate enough wealth to buy their way in.

And yet, no one past, present, and potentially future could ever dream to match the force that was Lex Luthor.

Talia had reviewed this Metropolis billionaire's background. He was certainly a man that knew his way around a boardroom. More importantly, he knew how to use the law to his advantage. There were many reports of weapons he had developed and used against Metropolis' guardian, Superman. A few were even traced back to him; yet, he remained a free man.

And now he had entered Gotham.

At the time, the businessman Maximillain Shreck had been shopping around a company of his. Her Beloved had been a suitor, though Shreck was attempting to leverage Gotham's other corporations to improve his profit. She had been approached at one point as well. And then out of nowhere, Luthor snatched up the company, giving him a much desired foothold into the city.

Talia quickly learned that many of Gotham's merchant class were not happy about this endeavor.

Talia imagined that her situation was probably the same. She too had come out of nowhere to join the city's upper class. The blatant disrespect she received as appointments were cut short, or rescheduled endlessly had been infuriating. Still, she found her way in thanks to her Beloved. Whether Gotham's businessmen liked it or not, they now jockeyed for her time rather than the other way around. Many she treated with grace; others she took petty revenge by wasting their time.

She would do no such thing to Luthor.

LexCorp was a powerhouse in its own right, Metropolis' counterpart to Wayne Enterprises. One could even say it was the better of the two companies in certain regards. Talia would not turn away such a prospective partnership because of tradition. It would certainly enrage the other companies, but she was not so prideful to turn her nose up at a potentially lucrative venture.

"Ms. Head, Mr. Luthor is here to see you," her secretary announced over the intercom on her desk.

Pressing the button to respond, she said, "Send him in."

Moments passed before the doors to her office opened. A woman in a dark suit and chauffeur's hat opened the door, allowing the infamous Mr. Luthor to enter. From behind her desk, Talia watched the two, the woman closing the door and following her master as they approached her. Standing up herself, Talia greeted them, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Luthor."

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Head," the bald businessman returned. Moving around her desk, Talia met them at the side of it, the two shaking hands. "I was surprised you reached out to me," he continued.

"I heard you were coming to survey your latest acquisition," she said. "What better time to meet with Metropolis' favorite son."

The "friendly" smile on Luthor's face never changed. Even though Superman was now considered Metropolis' favorite son, before him it had been Luthor. The reference to both in a single title was deliberate, though Luthor would most likely caulk it up to her trying to win him over in the long run.

"It has been quite some time since someone referred to me as such," he finally spoke after several moments.

"The public has a wandering eye at the best of times." Talia then gestured to a couple of chairs in front of her desk. "Please, sit."

Needing no further encouragement, Luthor took a seat, his servant doing the same. As she reclaimed her own, the man said, "That is a sentiment I could not agree with more. Though it does make me wonder if you have such an eye as well."

Talia raised an eyebrow at that remark even as she situated herself in her seat. "And how do I have a wandering eye?"

"You have clearly carved out a niche in Gotham; not many can say they have achieved such a feat. Now you are meeting with me, a representative of a completely different city."

"One should not restrict oneself to one location lest they limit their potential," she replied. "I have greater desires than to be the top frog in the well."

An amused look graced Luthor's face. "I don't believe I've heard such a phrase outside of Japan. Have you been there?"

"Many times when I was younger. It is quite a marvelous place."

"Indeed." Luthor relaxed in his chair, his elbows pressed into the armrests so that he could place his hands together, fingers entwined. "So, would it be much for me to presume you wish to engage in a partnership?"

A small smile appeared on Talia's face. "You may presume. This meeting, as you can guess, is to familiarize myself with the latest player in Gotham. I assume you wish to do the same yourself."

"We understand each other. So what does the Head Development Corporation have that may interest LexCorp?"

It had been some time, but Talia sensed she had come across a foe worth engaging in. He was certainly not one to underestimate, but that was where she held an advantage. Luthor did not know what she was fully capable of, only what she had previously done in the realm of business.

This would prove to be quite a dance of minds.


It wasn't often that Stephanie brought…work…home with her. Usually she went to Harper's since it was safer to discuss their vigilante lifestyle. It was just that she had some homework that needed to get done and Harper decided to tag along.

Mostly because she needed to vent.

Sitting at her desk, math textbook open to some random page, her notebook next to it, Stephanie stared at the problem, copying it down, and then promptly wondered what the heck came next. What was the chapter over again?

"Damn, I'm beat," Harper groaned as she laid on top of Stephanie's bed. She had her arms behind her head, one leg bent at the knee with the other raised up so that she could turn it to rest her ankle on the bent leg. Her airborne foot tapped back and forth in the air, counting out some random beat.

"You've been saying that a lot lately," the blonde observed as she scribbled a number next to the equation she was working on.

"I didn't go through Bat-Bootcamp before recently," Harper remarked. "I have to say though, I'm getting tired of it."

Stephanie felt the same way, kinda. When Batgirl had told them she was going to train them, she had been a little excited. Sure, she had learned quite a bit under Dick, but this was a professional. This was a girl that ran with Batman from Day 1 and now she was wanting them, the C-team, to run with her.

Stephanie paused her writing as that thought jarred her memory. They were painful memories at that.

It wasn't just punching and kicking and fighting. It was exercises, it was drills, it was standing on that hellhole of a wall while her thighs screamed bloody murder. The meditations were a nice break, but they could only be enjoyed when Harper wasn't being obnoxious during them. The girl just simply couldn't stay still. That would annoy Batgirl so much that she would declare an impromptu sparring session that usually beat the crap out of them.

Why was she doing this again?

"Do you think Princess Bat is ever going to let us out on the streets again?" Harper continued, ignoring the silence between them. "Because I'm starting to get the feeling that it's never going to happen. I mean, we got into this to help people, not to be practice dummies. We need to be out there and not locked away in the Batcave."

"You're the one that wanted to do this, remember?" Stephanie pointed out. "You jumped at the chance."

"And every day I regret it." Harper dropped her legs onto the bed, crossing them at her ankles now. "I need some action."

"And I need to get my homework done," the blonde girl said pointedly.

"Since when do you have homework?"

"Since someone decided to drag me to an underground lair to regret my life choices."

"You know you can always finish that at school, right?"

"Maybe your school gives you that chance, but mine doesn't."

"That's right, you're in some prep school or something." Harper slid her legs off of the bed, pushing herself up so that she was sitting on the edge. "Let me see what you're working on. Maybe I can help."

The next thing Stephanie knew, her friend was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder at the homework problems. For a moment, Steph actually thought the blue-haired girl was going to help.

"What's this?"

Instead, a piece of paper was lifted off of her desk, drawing her attention to it. "You're going on a field trip?" Harper questioned as she read it.

"Oh, crap," Stephanie cursed. "I gotta get my mom to sign that tonight. I keep forgetting."

"So where are you going?" Harper asked. "Where are you going? Where are you going?"

"Some dumb tour of some boring business downtown," she muttered in response. "It's at least a day out of school, which will be nice."

"Hmm," Harper hummed. "So that's what the richer kids get to do."

"We're not rich," Stephanie shot back. "We're just more comfortable than others."

"Well, you're richer than me, like ninety-nine percent of the rest of Gotham is." Harper placed the permission slip down on the desk. "You better get your mom to fill it out, otherwise you won't be able to go."

Yeah, she had just said that. "Thanks, Captain Obvious," she said sarcastically.

"You're welcome, Miss Procrastinator."


The view of Gotham was spectacular through the windows.

Considering the amount of money spent to buy this high-rise penthouse, it should have been nothing less. It was strange having large windows taking up an entire wall, which led out to a balcony, but that came from spending years in a mansion on the outskirts of the city.

Polish marble made up the solid walls, floor, and ceiling. Furniture was scattered about, an interior decorator placing them where they thought they would look "fabulous." It was clear where the dining area was and a sitting area was, for instance.

Bruce sat in a chair that was facing one of the large windows, staring out into the city. The sun was setting, making the surrounding buildings look like silhouettes of themselves. He couldn't pick out the details, such as windows or landing, just rectangular, black shapes with the occasional antenna breaking up the monotony.

Next to the chair was a small table, a silver tray with a crystal decanter of liquor, a couple glasses next to it. Neither of the glasses were being used; it was merely decoration at this point. That said, he had imbibed a time or two.

This was only temporary, he assured himself. Construction on the manor was going well, or so his contractor told him. He had been out there a few times to confirm this, and everything seemed to be in order. It was just so mind-numbingly slow. This meant the penthouse was now home.

At the very least, it had the benefit of keeping him closer to the city.

He didn't hear the footsteps; there were rarely those sounds in this place. Between Bruce and Cassandra, they were silent as cats. That being said, he sensed her presence as it drew near.

There was another black leather chair on the opposite side of the table and Cassandra plopped herself in it. They had taken to gazing out on the city at the end of their respective days. Thankfully it was Sunday, so he had the day off from work and Cassandra would have ended a session with her trainees.

That was usually an all-day affair, if he recalled right.

"Called things off early today?" he asked, still staring out the window.

He received a grunt in response. The dark-haired girl would normally be out all day long, getting into her costume and patrolling the city from there. It wasn't often she was here this early.

"Spoiler had homework," she told him.

"Homework is important."

"I wouldn't know."

"We can remedy that."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "The same way you got me my job?"

"Never said it was going to be glamorous."

The girl snorted. "Bluebird wants to go on patrols."

"Mmhmm."

"They're not ready for that."

"I seem to recall they were doing their own patrols before you decided to team up with them."

Cassandra turned her head to give him a look. "So was I before you grounded me."

Bruce returned the look with a knowing one. "You practically forgot how to fight, if I may remind you. You needed to relearn a lot."

"And they had very poor forms. I'm basically building them from the ground up."

"Uh huh."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you."

"Yes, yes I am."

She turned to look back out the window, sulking. "It's getting annoying. I'm only trying to do what is right by them."

"And they're resisting every step of the way. Wouldn't know anything about that."

Cassandra scowled. "I came around eventually." There was a pause. "Just so you know, they know what my face looks like."

Bruce glanced at her. Instinctively he was not happy upon hearing this, but this wasn't the time for stern lectures. It was better to learn what had gone wrong. "How did that happen?"

"Years ago. I wandered into one of their training sessions with that Batclan guy. We sparred. It helped me realize just how good you were."

Bruce thought on that. He recalled an odd moment where Cassandra had gone from fighting him tooth and nail to be on patrol to obeying him absolutely—at least until extenuating circumstances happened. He hadn't known about this training session with the Batclan and she had never mentioned it.

She must have found them without a mask on. A fighter of her caliber would be hard to forget, especially if she creamed them, which she probably did. A domino mask could only hide so much.

Still, it made him feel uneasy. "How do you feel about it?"

The dark-haired girl squirmed in her seat. "It feels weird. I'm not used to people knowing me. They seem nice though."

"Do you think you can trust them?"

There was silence. "I think so."

Bruce gave her a stern look. "There is no room for thinking. You need to know." His tone was hard, indicating just how important this was. With what they did, they had no room for doubt. "I highly suggest you figure out what it is sooner rather than later."

Cassandra nodded. "I will."

Silence fell between them. Then, "Do you have…any advice? On how to train?"

"I'm assuming you're doing what we did: practice, meditation, sparring."

"Yes, I am."

"Have you tried having the two of them spar? It'll give them a better idea of how much they've improved, if at all. Kinda like how you practiced on them without my knowing."

Cassandra considered this. "This isn't a bad idea. I think I will do that."

The sun was fading away by this point, the less vestiges of sunlight making the city look like one continuous blob of darkness. Lights were turning on, slowly lighting up the streets. It was starting to get to that time. "Do you plan on going out?" he asked her.

She nodded. "I do."

"Any special plans?"

"Not really, no."

"It's been awhile since we patrolled together. Care to join me?"

"Alright."

Bruce then pushed himself out of his seat, Cassandra joining him a moment later. "Then let's go suit up. Hopefully it's a quiet night."

"It rarely ever is," she murmured.

Yeah, it rarely ever was.


The night was young. It was only a matter of time before criminals crawled out from their holes and lairs and began preying on easy marks.

It was only just starting too. The near end-of-the-world cataclysm between the Kalanorians and Thanagarians had shocked and scared a lot of people. Crime had dipped considerably. It was strange to see Gotham relatively peaceful.

That could only last for so long though. Eventually, the criminals got over their shock and awe and began hitting the streets. It was fully expected, anticipated even.

However, the action wouldn't start for another couple of hours yet, at least nothing significant. That left Black Canary watching the streets boredly from her perch. The other Birds of Prey were scattered around, a couple blocks separated so that they could cover more ground, but still be within helping distance.

There was something different though, and the blonde vigilante knew just what it was. Tension had been bubbling up between her and the others—make that between her and Huntress. Katana was indifferent and Manhunter flat out didn't care.

It all stemmed from the fact that she had been included in the first expansion of the Justice League rather than her. Huntress had admittedly been on the scene longer than her, but she hadn't been included in what turned out to be Batman's increasing paranoia and attempt to get multiple eyes on the League.

Of course, he turned out to be right…in a way…

However, Huntress was still annoyed by it all. She still took potshots whenever she was feisty enough for them. Canary had let the purple-clad woman do so, hoping it would get out of her system. The only problem was that her Italian Mob upbringing had given her a bad habit of holding a grudge far longer than necessary. Bottom line: it was getting old.

"West is clear," Manhunter's voice came over the comm link. "Moving to Hope."

"Copy," Katana replied. "Moving to Eleventh."

See? That was how this was supposed to work. They were all professionals. Hell, Manhunter had once said they had all been involved in the fight with the weird, brainwashed Justice League, so they had their moment in the sun. They were part of Batman's ultimate team to fight back against…what had he called it? The Regime? Something like that.

So why couldn't Huntress see that?

"You know, you're brooding a little too much like an acquaintance of ours."

See? See what she meant?

Canary turned her head to glance over her shoulder. Huntress was walking towards her, her footsteps surprisingly soft considering they were on gravel. Someone was clearly working on their footwork. "What can I say, he rubbed off," she muttered.

"Wouldn't know anything about it," the dark-haired woman said as she came to stand a short distance away. Yeah, things were about to go down that rabbit hole again.

"I'm surprised more didn't rub off on you since you were a partner of his," she pointed out. If Huntress wanted to be petty, then she was going to be petty back.

"You would think, but we know how far that goes apparently." Damn, the bitch used it against her.

Alright, time to go for broke. "Are you going to be fussing about this for awhile? Because I gotta say, it's getting annoying."

"Ooooh, wouldn't want to anger the big-time Justice League member," Huntress snarked.

Canary turned to face this pest of a woman. "What's your deal? You've been hung up on this for months now. It's time to get over it."

"My deal? Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because I did work with the Bat, so he knows everything I can bring to the table; yet, he picks you for a covert spying mission, along with that boy toy of yours."

"We didn't know it was a spying mission," she protested.

"Until you did. I still am more than qualified for that sort of thing."

"You were qualified to fight a brainwashed Superman? Are you hiding kryptonite in your costume or something, because that's the only way you would have stood a chance."

Huntress scowled. "I'm sure Bats would have given me some."

"Or he could pick the person that could break his super-sensitive eardrums at a moment's notice. That's probably why he picked me in the beginning."

In retrospect, that probably was a big reason for her selection. If things had gone down differently and Evil Superman had tried to be more forceful, she could have used her Canary Cry to defend herself. There wasn't a member of the Justice League that could have fended off her scream, allowing her to either render them unconscious, or flee. Truly, Batman thought of everything.

"It doesn't explain that Robin Hood boyfriend of yours," Huntress grumbled. Clearly she saw the logic and didn't like it.

"And I've told you—countless times—Arrow just happened to be there when Batman approached me. He signed up himself. In fact, you could have signed up too if you really wanted to join."

The expression on Huntress' face soured. Yeah, that clearly hadn't crossed her mind. It wasn't like the only people that applied to join were referred. Some were, obviously, but there had been others. That douchey jock who claimed to be from the future came to mind. She still had no idea where he came from, or what possessed him to want to join.

"Now, if you're done with your sour grapes, Katana and Manhunter are pulling away," Canary said. "We better go catch up with them in case they run across something that requires backup." Not bothering to make certain Huntress heard her, Canary pulled out her grapple gun and fired it towards a familiar anchor point at a nearby building. This was all Huntress' problem, and if she couldn't get over it, it was her fault. Reasoning with her didn't seem to work.

So Canary was done with trying to be reasonable.


To Guest: It'd be a long time coming for that investigation