Three French Hens

After that horrible evening, Stephanie wanted to do whatever it took to wash it away. In this case, she was doing that literally as she helped her mom wash the dishes and, for some strange reason, pack up everything that was left as leftovers.

One reason she did this was to avoid her dad. She knew when he didn't approve of her choices and she could see it written all over his face the moment he first saw Harper. The rest of the evening had done little to change his mind.

Mom at least was being kind. She liked to see the brighter side of things. Eventually though, the dishes were eventually packed into the washing machine, any leftover food stored in Tupperware containers and stuffed into the fridge, and the pots and pans cleaned and returned to their storage.

Trudging out of the kitchen, Stephanie saw her dad fiddling with his stereo system, the very one Harper had taken potshots at. Someone had clearly taken up rent-free residence in Dad's head. Hopefully he would be too focused on his stereo to notice—

"Stephanie," Dad called out as he somehow tore his attention away from the stereo system. Damn. "A word?"

"Yeah, Dad?" the blonde girl responded resignedly. It was best to get this over with.

"Those were some…unique friends there," he began, much to her chagrin. "I can't say I'm all too thrilled about the Harper girl. As a Brown, you could do so much better than her."

She was not in the mood for this talk. "Why? Because Harper has to work to support her and her brother? That she'd be homeless if she didn't learn how to fix just about any and every electrical device she can find? She hasn't had it easy, Dad, and she makes it work the best way she can."

"She's also disrespectful," he countered. "You only need one look to know that she rebukes authority. Now, the Cassandra girl is a good one to have."

Of course, her dad would like the rich girl, even if she didn't use her real last name. "Why, because she had a more prestigious job?" she responded sarcastically.

"If you think that girl got those positions on her own, you're entirely mistaken," Dad countered, which caused Stephanie to pause. She knew Cassandra had inside connections, but how did her dad know? "It's in her last name: Kane."

"Soooo?" she dragged out uncertainly.

"The Kanes are one of Gotham's wealthiest families," her dad clarified for her. "And it's no doubt her family connections got her her position with Lucius Fox at Wayne Enterprises. I'm willing to bet the Kanes are just using Wayne Enterprises to get her work experience so that she can bring what she learns back to their own companies. She's someone to keep as a friend, Stephanie."

Well, Stephanie hadn't really known about this Kane family. Clearly, they weren't as well-known as the Waynes. Then again, she didn't really know all of the rich families either. "Isn't that a bit shallow, Dad?" she couldn't help but question.

"Unfortunately, that's the way of the world," Dad shrugged. "It's not what you know, it's who you know. So who's going to be a greater asset to you? Harper, with her devil-may-care attitude and electrician's apprenticeship? Or Cassandra, who worked for Lucius Fox himself? You tell me."

She could understand what her dad was getting at, even if it was incredibly shallow. She was so not in the mood to keep talking about this, though. "Dad, I have school tomorrow," she groaned in response. "I'm going to bed."

"Just keep in mind what I said," he told her, even as the girl strode out of the room. Entering the hallway that led to her bedroom, she passed by a couple of doors, one that led to a bathroom, another to her father's office, which the door was conveniently left ajar.

Unable to help herself, Stephanie just glanced through the cracked door, peering into the room for perhaps a second before she came to a stop. Frowning, Stephanie looked back through the opening being the door and doorframe. The lights were still on and she could see something sitting on her dad's desk.

Glancing back down the hallway, she could see her dad still hard at work examining his stereo system, so the blonde girl took that moment to slip into his office. Quickly, she went right up to the desk.

Lying there was a set of drawings, or maybe blueprints? If that's what you could call them? Normally, her dad didn't have such things, since most of his work consisted more of internet research for his trivia game show. Staring at the blueprint, she saw what looked like some sort of design. She honestly couldn't make heads or tails of it. Being the teenage girl that she was, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures of it.

Quickly, she went back to the door, peering out of the office. Her dad was still distracted, so Stephanie slipped out and walked the rest of the way to her bedroom. It'd be a couple of hours, but she would sneak out and get to the BatCave. She would upload these pics to see what exactly her dad was working on because it didn't quite fit in with the image he had built for himself.

Max Shreck was a shrewd and ruthless businessman. He could snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, and do so effortlessly. In fact, some would say he intended to put himself into such a precarious position if only to entertain himself with the fallout. As Bruce Wayne, he had seen the man in action up close and in person.

The same could not be said about Chip Shreck.

Chip was Max's right hand man. He didn't sneeze without his father's permission, much less conquer other global conglomerates. He didn't have Max's mind or fortitude, most likely due to being raised in an environment completely given to him by his father.

On more than one occasion, Max had taken potshots at Bruce for inheriting his wealth instead of working hard for it, being handed everything he had in life. Funny how he was gift wrapping everything for his own child.

Chip's penthouse was, in a word, modern. The best appliances, the best furniture, interior design done by the one and only Madame Blukar. There were original paintings hanging from his walls, save for a couple portraits, one of Chip Shreck himself, and the other of him and his father in an office setting, Max sitting behind his desk and Chip standing just behind the man's right shoulder.

The door to the penthouse opened, the sound of loafers clicking on the polished marble floor. Lights were steadily turned on as Chip Shreck moved through his apartment. There was an open concept here, where the living room swallowed up most of the living space, the kitchen existing along one wall of it. It was at the kitchen bar that the handsome man set his briefcase down, pulling at the knot of his tie as he loosened it.

Batman was behind him in an instant. Grabbing the back of the man's collar, he yanked on it hard, pulling him backwards. The vigilante's foot was right behind him,= so as Chip was thrown backwards, his feet tripping over the dark-clad man's foot and sending him crashing down to the floor on his back, a cry of surprise leaping out of his mouth.

"Alright, who's the big—" Chip immediately demanded before he cut himself off. He had shoved his upper body up, propping himself with his hands and arms behind him. The reason for his stopping was he spotted the vigilante turning to stare at him, looming over him was a stony look on his face. "Y-you…" he sputtered.

Batman took a step towards the businessman, who immediately began scrambling backwards across the floor. This lasted right until the young man nearly reached a rotating chair, one that looked like an egg split right down the middle and its insides filled with cushions. The dark-clad man just followed along until that point, where he pounced, grabbing Chip by the hem of his suit jacket. He yanked him up off the floor and forced him into the egg-shaped chair, another surprised cry ringing out. Grabbing the man's tie, Batman tightened it until it was practically gagging his captive.

"We need to talk, Chip Shreck," the Dark Knight growled, looming over the businessman.

"I ain't done nothing!" Chip shouted in response, squirming in his trendy chair. "You got nothin' on me!"

Batman just pulled the tie knot tighter, now choking him. "Want to try again? I have all night to get the answers I want and you are going to tell me them."

Chip sputtered until he was able to adjust to the tightness around his throat. "Don't…" he gagged. "Don't you got some…punks to scare? What…do you want with me?"

The dark-clad man loosened up the tie knot then, allowing his captive to breathe better. "I want to know about the power plant your father wants built."

The young man blinked his eyes. "The power plant? We're not building a power plant. In case you hadn't noticed, that Calabrese lady is doing that."

Calabrese lady? Was he referring to Selina Kyle? She was the one fronting the current power plant project and she did have a connection to the Calabrese crime family. "I also know that you and your father were pushing your own proposal and had reached the point of presenting it to the City Council." He leaned in closer. "The same council that just lost three of its members."

"They chose that lady's plan instead of ours," he sniffed. "I ain't got any lost love for 'em, but I have nothing to do with their deaths. That Scarface guy was behind it, in case you hadn't heard."

"I have. I also know he has some goons of his own working for him." The vigilante's face was nearly touching Chip's now. "I also know you've been meeting with those same thugs."

Chip's eyes widened. "I…I haven't met with any of those lowlifes!" he stammered. "No way would a Shreck be caught dead with them!"

"You're lying," Batman growled. He pulled his head back then and made a show of looking Chip up and down. "You look like a man that played football. I understand you were very good, even played at the college level. If it weren't for that knee injury you suffered, you very well could have made the pros."

Keeping one hand on the tie, the vigilante then moved one hand to the very knee that had been injured, his hand grabbing onto it. "It would be a shame if it was re-injured," he continued. "I understand the therapy is brutal."

"Don't you threaten me," Chip nearly snarled.

The thing about the knee joint was that it was a poorly constructed joint. All of its protection was on its front, which left the sides and back exposed and vulnerable. Batman drew his hand back and pulled out a bat-shaped shuriken and then pressed one of its tips against the side of the man's knee. "Who's threatening?" he returned evenly.

"You wouldn't!"

"I've done worse to those lowlifes you look down on. What makes you think I wouldn't do the same to you…or your father?"

Chip perked up. "Dad?"

"When I'm done with you, depending on what you give me, I'll be paying your father a visit," Batman told him. "And I'll make him squeal." A thought then popped into his head, something he had heard about Max Shreck ever so often that he couldn't help but use it. "Not that anyone will know. I will personally see to it that he goes on…vacation."

"You…you wouldn't."

"Want to test me?"

The look on Chip's face told him that he was pulling on the right strings. "You met with Scarface's men, multiple times. Why were you meeting with them?"

"They…they were wanting to go after the Calabreses," Chip finally relented. "And after everything that Calabrese bitch has done, we…we wanted to make certain he didn't turn his attention to us. That's all that was about."

That wasn't an uncommon practice, perhaps a proactive version of racketeering if one looked at it the right way. The problem was that practice was more common when the Lion, and the subsequent other crime families ran Gotham; it wasn't something businesses currently did.

"What does Scarface have against the Calabreses?" he questioned.

"I didn't ask. I only wanted to make certain the Shreck family's interests were protected—that's it."

"And would the 'Shreck family's interest' include encouraging a new rival to attack the Calabreses?" he pressed.

"We never talked about that! I swear!" Chip was panicking now. It seemed Batman had hit the nail on the head. Chip was trying to be evasive, but he wasn't doing as good of a job as he thought. For one, the way he would practically sneer when referring to Selina told him there was no lost love there. Max Shreck was also not above using whatever means he could to get what he wanted, so encouraging someone like Scarface to keep attacking his rival was not outside the realm of possibility. It also wasn't much of a stretch to include the murdered City Council members either. After all, they had voted in favor of a rival, which isn't something Shreck would take lying down.

"Then what did you talk about?"

"We…we…" he stammered before he eventually gave in. "We talked about Scarface going after the Calabreses. Dad always said they ran the town and it was time for some new blood, that kind of stuff."

"And that included your power plant proposal?"

"No ,there wasn't anything about that with Scarface. That was completely with those jerks on the City Council. They shouldn't have thrown in with the Calabrese bitch like they did."

"Why did they approve her proposal and not yours?"

"Beats me. Probably bribed them; they were known for being corrupt, ya know. Maybe she spread her legs for them too, who knows?"

Now he was being crude. Still, he had an admitted link between Shreck and Scarface, which gave him something to work with. Pulling his shuriken-wielding hand away from Chip's knee, he returned the weapon to its pouch on his belt. He then returned his hand to the man's shirt right next to his tie, pulling him forward with it. "Be sure to tell your father what we spoke about. I'm certain he'll want to know," Batman told him before he shoved him back into his egg-shaped chair. Standing to his full height, he turned and made his way to an open window.

He had no doubt that Chip would be calling Max shortly too, to inform him about their encounter. He wanted the younger Shreck to do it, especially with the small bug he had placed underneath the man's collar. If there was anyone that Max talked to about sensitive matters, it was Chip. The two men would be talking soon and he wanted to hear everything they spoke about.

"...and I want yous lot on the riverfront. There's the stores all along that street, start where Monroe ends and makes your way south. Don't spend longer than two minutes at each spot. Once you get right down 'ere, corner of Taft, Calagrese reinforcements oughta ge showing up. That, or the cops. Doesn't matter who. This is where yous will hold your ground, rack up a gody count. Kill everygody. Give it ten minutes there, then amscray. Yous got that?"

Arnold watched the gangster in question, his face blank while Mr. Scarface did all of the talking. Mr. Scarface was staring down the man who was easily ten times his height and not even blinking.

"Yeah, we got it," the gangster said.

"Good. Good. That's what I likes ta hear," Mr. Scarface praised, then scanned the small grouping of men. Behind them, Rhino, Mugsy, and Ratso stood guard, staring down anyone that might try to pull anything. The rest of the men were those singled out to lead the all out assault planned for tonight. They knew who their boys were and were going to relay the instructions soon enough. "Dis 'ere is gonna ge our show of power. Gefore the night is over, nobody is going to be mistaken who is responsigle. I want all the sheeple afraid, I want dem huddling indoors, and I want no one untouched. This is also gonna show how far our reach is, so don't hold gack."

If there were any doubts, the speech Mr. Scarface gave wiped those away. He knew what he was talking about and he was so very confident. People just gravitated to him.

"Now go on. Get out there. Don't come gack without some glood on your hands," Mr. Scarface dismissed, a hand gesturing for the assembled gangsters, mobsters, and wiseguys to disperse. The movement from the three men who had placed themselves behind the rising crime lord drew attention from hard, wooden eyes. "Not you three."

Rhino and Mugsy looked the most confused. "Don't you want us out there too, Boss?" Rhino asked, wide eyed.

Mr. Scarface shook his head. "Naw, you three have already proven yourselves and I'm not agout to risk losing yas too soon. Right now, your jog is to sit gack, relax, and enjoy da fireworks. Yous more than earned it."

Mr. Scarface was certainly in a generous mood tonight. "Perhaps you should lie down for a little bit. It will take time for the men to get into position," Arnold suggested.

"What do you take me for? Some lily-livered wuss? That's you, Dummy!" Mr. Scarface snapped back at him, glaring up. "I'm fine! An example of perfect health! I don't need you mommying me, ya hear!"

"Mr. Scarface, please! I'm just worried about your welfare is all, honest!" he protested, pulling back but not too far.

"Ya worry like a mother, you wuss," Mr. Scarface growled.

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea?" Now Mr. Scarface was looking at Rhino who squirmed under the crime lord's gaze. "We got like an hour, right? We can get a TV set up and everything, right? Gonna be a long night?"

"Yeah! Those new guys will take a bit to get themselves organized and all," Mugsy added. "We could help with that, let you have some time to yourself."

Arnold was grateful for the help, really he was. It was so nice to know that he wasn't the only one worried. Maybe it was because he was the hired help that his opinion did not matter. It never had, but Mr. Scarface needed him. On some level he did, and he needed Mr. Scarface as well! It was so hard knowing what to do, but his employer always knew what needed to be done and how to get it done.

"Yous might be right. I am feelin' a little peckish," Mr. Scarface admitted, reluctant but unwilling to show any weakness. "Gut yous getter get me up when it starts. Ya hear me?"

"Of course! Absolutely!" Mugsy agreed, Rhino nodding his head rapidly.

Arnold took this moment to stand, holding Mr. Scarface against him. "We'll need to check your blood pressure first."

"Get off about that! I don't need any meds," Mr. Scarface grumbled as the ventriloquist escorted him away.

A short rest, and then to wait for when the plan was pulled off. War was beginning tonight, and everyone needed to be at their best, including Mr. Scarface. Maybe that was why he was only putting up a half-hearted fight tonight. Normally it was a much longer, much louder affair.

Arnold gave one last grateful look to Mugsy and Rhino, oh, and also Ratso before leaving the room and leaving the three men with the responsibility of sending out the small army they had amassed.

Gotham would be red for another reason tonight.

"So, what did you think?"

Cassandra looked away from the giant computer. Harper was dressed in her Bluebird armor, her domino mask held loosely in her hand. She was looking nonchalant, or at least that's how she wanted to present herself.

"Think about what?" the dark-haired girl responded.

"Steph's parents. That whole dinner thing."

She shrugged her shoulders. "The food was good."

Harper snorted. "You didn't care one wit about it, huh?"

"I can't say that I did, no."

"Must be nice to be the golden child in everyone's eye."

That caused Cassandra to frown. She turned her chair so that she could better face her teammate. "What does that mean?"

"It was pretty obvious that Steph's dad liked you," Harper shrugged. "He didn't really care for me, the prick."

"Did you like him either?"

"Well, no."

"Then what does it matter?"

"Because he's judging me based off of the fact I'm not rubbing shoulders with Gotham's elite. Yeah, being an electrician's apprentice isn't that glamorous, but it keeps a roof over my and Cullen's head, and puts food on our table."

Cassandra just nodded. She—

"I mean, where does that asshole get off?" Harper suddenly exploded. "Who is he, ya know? Some game show host? If shit went down right now, city goes into chaos, yadda, yadda, who's going to be of more use? Him? With his game show trivia and prepared scripts? Or me, with my knowledge of how to wire a freaking toaster?"

Clearly, Harper didn't like Stephanie's dad. She wasn't too fond of the man either, admittingly. He clearly perked up when he learned of her connections and did everything except for openly fawning over her. Ever since she had made herself known to the Gotham scene as Bruce Wayne's daughter—which made her wonder how this guy didn't recognize her considering the press coverage—there had been people clamoring for her attention. Usually press and paparazzi, but she had been receiving these weird letters from young men wanting to meet her.

Background checks had been promptly run on them, some of which she had actually done. One guess as to who did the rest of them.

The door to their lair opened then, Stephanie entering the BatCave. Once the door was shut, the blonde girl climbed up the metal stairs to the second level, where the computer was. "Hey, guys," she greeted them tiredly.

Harper spun around. "Steph, you're dad's a jerk!"

Well, they were just putting their cards on the table now, weren't they?

Stephanie paused in her stride, but only for a second. She then sighed as she continued to close the distance between the three of them. "I am so sorry for my dad. I knew he was going to be bad, but I didn't think he'd be this way."

"You do not need to apologize," Cassandra immediately cut in, hoping to head off more of Harper's irritated thoughts. "You did warn us. I will say your mother's food is good."

Stephanie perked up at that. "Really? You think so?"

"Yeah, and your mom is cool," Harper added. "But where does your dad come off? Honestly?"

"I wish I could say that was new, but that's him, my loving dad," the blonde girl responded bitterly. "You don't get as far in show business as my dad without kissing the appropriate asses."

"No kidding," Harper replied. "He was so far up Cassandra's ass, he was damn near pleasuring her."

That sounded very much like that hentai stuff the two girls would comment about. As it turned out, Cassandra had looked into that and promptly wished she hadn't. However, it did give her the opening to look up at the blue-haired girl and say, "Do I look Japanese to you?"

She opened her mouth to respond before her face immediately frowned. "Wait, you're not Japanese?"

"I am whatever Lady Shiva is," the dark-haired girl shrugged.

"And where does Shiva come from?" Stephanie asked curiously.

"Detroit."

The two girls gave her a double-take. "Seriously, Detroit?" Harper pressed.

"Beats me."

"You don't know?"

"I don't. Do you?"

There was a moment of silence before Stephanie snorted, which soon became laughter. This prompted Harper to join her, which led to Cassandra chuckling a bit. She honestly didn't know why she laughed, but she couldn't help it watching the other two do so. One could say it was contagious.

"Okay, this just got absurd," Stephanie said, grinning even as she calmed herself. "It's still hilarious though."

Of course, that was when the alarm went off.

All three of their heads turned, seeing the computer monitor flashing red. Cassandra pushed back her chair, allowing her to stand up as she stared at the screen. They all knew what was going on; it could only be one thing.

"It's starting."

Author's Note: Just a heads up, ShadowMajin has a bonus story coming out, calls it Andromeda Strain. I'll leave you all to guess what it is, but it debuts on 4/8/2024. Update schedule will change to reflect it but more information will be given at a later date. We look forward to the speculation.