A/N: I own nothing you recognize.
Update (May 2023): so I changed Fireworks a little! It's not super major, and it doesn't change the trajectory of the story, but I think it gives a little more insight to the changes Lark is experiencing, and also I realized it didn't make sense that she would be electrocuted if Desmond wasn't originally planning on taking her DNA. Anyway, it's not necessary to reread, but if you are interested in seeing the new scene, it's the scene where Desmond is collecting their DNA.
(Also sorry, this will be going in the A/N for the chapters I have posted, just in case someone is in the middle of reading the posted chapters *sheepish smile*)
5.0 - Schooled
Location: Wayne Manor, Gotham City
Date: Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Time: 0548 EDT
Naomi startled awake. She blinked slowly as she tried to remember what had awakened her, but nothing came to mind. She turned on her bedside lamp and squinted as the light flickered on, and through sleep-bleary eyes, she looked at the clock on her bedside table. It was early; too damn early. Maybe she could get a couple more hours of sleep.
Unfortunately, after only a few minutes, she turned on the lamp again with a frustrated huff, sleep evading her. Naomi rolled out of bed and padded into her bathroom, where she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and tied back the hair that was long enough into a tiny ponytail.
She checked her notifications as she headed downstairs and saw a text from Roy telling her he was still alive and okay as of three am Eastern time. She couldn't help but smile a little at Roy's attempt to keep her up-to-date on his well-being and sent him a quick response before pocketing her phone.
She walked downstairs still in her sleepwear of an oversized Green Lantern t-shirt and sleeping shorts. When she arrived in the kitchen, Bruce was sipping his coffee and reading the morning newspaper as Alfred washed Bruce's dishes.
"You're up mighty early," Alfred commented as Naomi greeted Bruce as she passed him.
"Don't ask me why," she groaned, laying her cheek on the cool granite island top. "I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep."
"Well then, breakfast for the young mistress!" Alfred declared, drying the last plate and turning to the refrigerator.
"Just fruit, Alfred, is fine," Naomi sighed, sitting up and rubbing her eyes tiredly. Turning to Bruce, she asked, "What are you doing up so early?"
"I need to visit the Metropolis branch of Wayne Enterprises," he explained, closing his newspaper. "The Metropolis board wants to expand one of the factories, but there's a report that it would negatively impact the watershed and some members want to push it through anyway."
Naomi smiled a little. Bruce Wayne's overall image was as a playboy living the easy life, but what the public often wasn't aware of was the fact he took the company and his position on the board of directors very seriously, and he also understood that from his position of money and influence, he had a responsibility to use his power for good.
In many ways, Naomi thought of Bruce Wayne as just as much a hero as Batman, and just like Batman, the public would never know the real him.
Bruce stood and waved good-bye to Naomi before heading to the front door, where Alfred had pulled the car around after serving Naomi her dish of fresh berries. A thought occurred to her just then and she quickly dropped her fork and hurried after Bruce, catching him before he got in the car.
"Bruce, wait!" she called as she hurried down the front steps, having remembered the couple conversations she had had with Superboy about his implanted memories. There had been a few quick exchanges, but he hadn't said much. What Naomi had been able to gather, though, was that a lot of Superboy's frustration had to do with a certain Man of Steel.
Bruce nodded at Alfred, letting him know he could wait in the car while he turned to face Naomi.
"If you're in Metropolis, can you talk to Clark?"
Bruce's eyes widened just slightly in surprise at the request and nodded. "I was planning on meeting with him, but why do you want me to?"
"Because I think he's handling the Superboy situation all wrong," Naomi said bluntly. "I've talked to him, Bruce, and I've gotten to understand him a little more from the small amount he's been willing to share."
"He's opened up to you?" he asked her, admittedly impressed. From the few interactions he had had with the clone, he expected it to be months before a productive conversation could be had.
"He just needed to understand that there was someone willing to listen to him without prejudice, without judging what he thought he had been experiencing," Naomi explained. "I mean, this is a hormonal teenage boy we're talking about. More specifically, a hormonal teenage boy who was just told a month ago that his whole world was a lie."
She sighed, her eyes becoming distant as she recalled the expression on Superboy's face when he had first opened up to the Team, the look of absolute dejection and fear for what had been going through his head.
"He's lost, Bruce," Naomi went on, "and the Team and Tornado and Dinah can only do so much for him. He needs someone who has his abilities to guide him, like Dick and I have you, like Wally has Barry, et cetera, et cetera."
He nodded, a small smile coming to his lips. He had been thinking along the same lines, though given how much more time Naomi had spent around Superboy, he was glad he was on the right track.
"I will keep that in mind when I meet with Clark," Bruce said. Naomi smiled in thanks before hugging him and wishing him luck on his meeting. She stuck her head in the backseat to say good-bye to Alfred and then headed inside.
She finished her fruit breakfast before letting out a wide yawn. Not feeling like trudging all the way back to her top-floor bedroom, Naomi headed for the second-floor family room, which was smaller and more intimate than the larger great room on the ground floor that was used for formal events, like charity balls or company dinners.
When Naomi woke up again, it was because her little brother was flicking bits of paper at her. "Dick," she muttered, and he stuck his tongue out at her, understanding she wasn't saying his name.
"What are you doing down here, anyway?" he asked, leaning back in the couch across from where Naomi had slept.
"I woke up early and couldn't go back to sleep so I came down here," she shrugged, sitting up and pushing off the blanket that Alfred must have draped over her shoulders. "What time is it?"
"A little after ten," Dick said. "Dinah called; said our first training session is today at one. And Wally said he was heading to the Cave early."
Naomi raised an eyebrow and an amused smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "He told you he was going to the Cave?"
Dick cackled and shrugged. "He let it slip. Didn't think I heard."
"And you wanna head over there and bug him?" she guessed.
"You know me so well!" he grinned. "See you down in the Batcave!"
Naomi rolled her eyes and stood before hurrying after Dick as he opened one of the entrances to the Batcave. Once below the manor, they headed up to the changing rooms, each stepping into a small bathroom and emerging as Lark and Robin.
"Reocognized: Robin, B-0-2; Lark, B-0-1."
The two birds stepped out of the Zeta-Tube and finding the mission room empty, headed to the combined kitchen-living room where they found M'gann working on what appeared to be a cookie batter. Wally chatted her ear off and Kaldur leaned casually against the counter, watching with mild amusement. Like Lark and Robin, everyone was dressed in uniform, ready for whatever might come their way.
Robin cleared his throat, causing the speedster to look up and then groan under his breath. "Hey, Rob," he grumbled. He looked slightly less peeved as he greeted Lark, who smiled apologetically at him.
"Hey, Wally!" Robin said brightly, ignoring the stink eye being directed at him and walking further into the kitchen to sling an arm around his best friend's shoulder.
"Robin, Lark!" M'gann greeted happily. "You're just in time; I'm about to put the cookies in the oven!"
"Ooh, count me in," Robin grinned while Lark gave a smile of thanks to the Martian and hopped onto the counter beside Kaldur.
"How long has this been going on?" she whispered with a lifted eyebrow, glancing between Wally and Robin as they attempted to get the poor Martian's attention.
"Since he arrived," Kaldur replied quietly. "It has been...awkward, to say the least."
"I don't doubt it," Lark said with a little laugh. "I think the poor girl has had enough." She clapped her hands loudly, drawing everyone's attention before jumping down from the counter. "Let's check the holo-computer, see what games are programmed," she suggested.
{Thank you,} M'gann's relieved voice whispered across her brain, and Lark smiled back with a little nod.
"Race ya!" Robin exclaimed, shoving past Wally as he started sprinting down the hall.
Wally barked out a laugh before disappearing in a yellow blur.
"Come on, M'gann," Lark said, putting a hand on the Martian's shoulder. "Let's see what games we can beat the boys at."
"That does sound more interesting than waiting for the cookies to bake," M'gann admitted with a grin. She set down the bowl of batter and flew after Robin and Wally.
Lark and Kaldur followed at a slower pace than the others, the latter sparing glances at the former. In the month the Team had been formed, Kaldur had gotten a better sense of the two birds.
From a distance, they had appeared aloof and untouchable, almost like they were simply myths. But getting to know them, they were just teenagers, like him. Lark was definitely a little more serious and mature than her partner, and something about her made her seem wise beyond her years. All the same, she was kind and a good friend, and appeared to have developed a bit of a soft spot for Superboy.
"Look, we found air hockey!" Wally exclaimed when the others joined him and Robin. "Dibs!" he called.
"Dibs!" Robin echoed and he took up the other side of the table.
Despite Robin's lightning-fast reflexes, Wally's ability to tap into the Speed Force proved to be the winning edge, and he quickly won three of the five games played against the young bird.
"How about giving someone else the chance the get their butt kicked?" the speedster taunted after the final win. The younger teen grumbled but stepped aside.
"I will try," Kaldur spoke up, and he took Robin's place at the air hockey table.
After a few moments, a tweet! came from the hologram as Wally scored a point against Kaldur. All while casually eating a banana.
"Recognized: Superboy, B-0-4." Lark turned and watched as the clone stalked into the room, clearly unhappy, though she saw M'gann beam.
"Hi, Superboy," the Martian said brightly as he marched through the holographic table, causing it to disappear altogether. "How was Metropolis?" she asked. Her smile fell when Superboy didn't respond.
Lark sighed and shook her head a little; she understood Clark's desire for distance, or at least she could guess it had something to do with Clark's never-ending goody-two-shoesness that led him not wanting Superboy to feel like he was growing up in the shadow of the Man of Steel. She hoped Bruce could talk some sense into him.
Behind them, a throat cleared. Lark turned to see Black Canary walk in with Martian Manhunter.
"Ready for training, everyone?" the blonde heroine asked.
"Black Canary," M'gann greeted. "Uncle J'onn!" she exclaimed. She flew forward and wrapped her arms around the older Martian.
"M'gann, I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I'd see how you were adjusting," Martian Manhunter said.
"A few bumps, but I'm learning," M'gann replied.
"That is all I can ask," he said with a small smile.
Lark glanced out of the corner of her eye and saw Superboy marching away. "Stick around," Black Canary called, having caught his attempted escape as well. "Class is in session." The clone stopped walking and turned around but remained at a distance.
Black Canary stood in the middle of the large ring in the center of the training room-slash-mission room, and it lit up under her feet. "I consider it an honor to be your teacher," she said, turning so she was facing the Team, her back to Superboy.
"I'll throw a lot at you," she continued, reaching up to shrug off her short blue jacket. "Everything I learned from my own mentor..." Black Canary grunted as she lifted her left shoulder. "And my own bruises," she added with a wry smile.
"What happened?" M'gann asked in concern as the older hero briefly touched the bandage wrapped around her bicep.
"The job," she replied shortly before getting back to business. "Now, combat is about controlling the conflict, putting the battle on your terms. You should always be acting, never reacting." She gazed at the Team. "I'll need a sparring partner."
Lark and Robin shared a few nudges, trying to get the other to go up, but Wally beat them to it when his hand shot in the air, accompanied by an enthusiastic, "Right here!" as he strode forward so he was standing in front of Black Canary. He finished his banana and said, "After this"—he paused and tossed the banana peel away, imitating the sound of a basket being made as he did—"I'll show you my moves."
Lark saw Black Canary's eyebrows lift slightly, but the corner of her mouth curled up in a smirk and she nodded, narrowing her eyes in concentration.
She moved immediately, throwing a punch at Wally, which he blocked easily. But pulling out of the punch, Black Canary ducked and swung her foot around, knocking the speedster on his back. He landed with a thud on the holographic floor, and a circle appeared around his torso with a tag that read, Kid Flash Status: FAIL.
Wally groaned. "Hurts so good," he huffed out.
"Good block," Black Canary complimented, reaching down to help Wally to his feet. "But did anyone see what he did wrong?"
"Ooh, ooh!" Robin called, bouncing on his toes and raising his hand like he was in school. "He hit on teacher and got served?" Lark bit her lip to keep her snickers from spilling out, though she did hold her hand palm-side up at her hip for Robin to slap.
"Dudes!" Wally exclaimed, his eyes widening, sounding mortified.
Black Canary ignored the exchange and looked hard at the Team. "He allowed me to dictate the terms of—"
"Oh, please," Superboy scoffed, cutting off Black Canary. She glanced back at him, who remained at a distance with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. "With my powers, the battle's always on my terms," he said. "I'm a living weapon, and this is a waste of my time," he finished, glaring hard at their trainer.
Lark winced when he said living weapon. In her few short conversations with Superboy, she had certainly done her best to let him know that the Team and the Justice League didn't think of him like that anymore, and while she knew it would take more than just those short conversations to help him come to terms with what happened to him, it was also obvious that it was going to take longer than she anticipated.
Black Canary's eyes narrowed. "Prove it," she challenged softly, meeting Superboy's heated glare. He walked up to her and Wally backed away nervously. They stood facing each other before giving slight nods of their heads and they took ready positions.
Superboy threw first with a grunt. Black Canary moved out of the way and grabbed the clone's outstretched arm with both hands. Using his forward momentum, she easily tossed him, and he landed with a heavy thud on his back.
Lark winced again, worried about what might be going through Superboy's head. Robin didn't seem to share her worry, though, as he pointed a finger at Superboy and laughed. Kaldur gently nudged him, and Robin quickly covered his mouth with both hands.
Superboy stood with a growl.
"You're angry," Black Canary observed. "Good, but don't react. Channel that anger into—" She was cut off as Superboy ran at her with a frustrated yell. As he reached her, Black Canary sprang into the air and flipped over his head, landing lightly behind him. Superboy whirled around, but her leg was already sweeping under his feet, and he fell again. Robin snickered and was again silenced, though this time by Lark, who pinched his ear, turning his snicker into a yelp of pain.
"That's it!" Superboy yelled angrily, ignoring Black Canary's offered hand as he sat up and then got to his feet. "I'm done."
"Training is mandatory," Black Canary reminded patiently, placing a hand on his shoulder to stop his retreat. Superboy threw off her hand and turned to glare at her.
They were interrupted when Batman's image appeared on a holographic screen.
"Batman to Cave," he addressed. Everyone quickly stepped forward. "Five hours ago, a new menace attacked Green Arrow and Black Canary."
Lark glanced at said heroine as the older blonde's bandaged arm unconsciously twitched at the mention of the source of her injury.
"The attacker was capable of studying, then duplicating, the powers and abilities of its opponents," Batman continued as another image appeared at the top left corner of the screen. It showed a very human-looking android as it battled various members of the League. "Arrow called in reinforcements, which nearly proved disastrous, as our foe gained more and more power with each new combatant."
"Whoa," Wally said quietly. "One guy with the powers of the entire League?" he asked in disbelief.
"In the end, it took eight Leaguers four hours to defeat and dismantle the Amazo android," Batman finished.
"An android?" Lark and Robin asked immediately. "W-who made it? T.O. Morrow?" the younger bird finished.
"Good guess, Robin," Batman said. "But Red Tornado doesn't think so."
"The technology bears the signature of Professor Ivo," Martian Manhunter informed.
"Ivo?" Lark balked, her eyes going wide.
"But Ivo's dead," Kaldur said, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"So we all thought," Black Canary said grimly, turning to glance at the Atlantean and the bird over her shoulder. "Or hoped."
"To make certain this threat is permanently neutralized," Batman continued, "we're sending two trucks carrying the android's parts to two separate S.T.A.R. Lab facilities in Boston and New York for immediate evaluation."
A new screen appeared to the right of Batman, which showed a map with a bright red dot and dashed lines pointing in the direction of the two cities in question. "Every precaution is being taken," he said. "We'll have four additional decoy trucks to create confusion in case Ivo, or anyone, tries to recover the remains. You will split into undercover teams to safeguard the two real trucks."
"Yes!" Wally exclaimed happily. "Road trip!"
"So now we take out your trash?" Superboy demanded, scowling darkly at Batman.
"You have something better to do?" Batman countered, unfazed by Superboy's glare.
"Coordinates received," Kaldur announced, glancing over at Superboy and noticing Lark was frowning slightly at the clone as well.
"Good," Batman said. "Motorcycles have been provided and are waiting in the hanger, and a change of clothes are in the dressing rooms. Lark, I need to speak to you. Privately."
Lark's gaze snapped to Batman in surprise before she shared brief uncertain glances with the other members of the Team.
"On our way," Kaldur spoke up, and everyone quickly turned on their heels to leave Batman and his oldest bird to themselves.
Batman took an uncharacteristic beat before he addressed his clearly confused and now wary young partner. "You won't be on this mission, Lark," he said heavily.
"What?!" she yelled. "Why?"
"On the off-chance the Amazo android gets reactivated, the last thing we need is it gaining your powers, especially when we don't even have a handle on what you're capable of."
Lark quirked a disbelieving eyebrow. "So that means you're not even confident we can guard those parts."
"It's just a precaution."
She scowled at Batman, ready to fight back, but a thought occurred to her. "That means you're worried Ivo or someone else might have the trucks followed."
"It's just a precaution," Batman said again, and Lark rolled her eyes.
"Sure, whatever you say," she muttered.
"Go change and meet up with the others in the hanger," he sighed. "You'll ride with the Team to your destination and then split with them from there. Aqualad knows to wait for you."
"Fine," Lark huffed before turning on her heel and marching away.
She was surprised to find M'gann still in the female dressing room, looking uncertainly at the outfit laid out for her.
"Are these clothes comfortable?" she asked as soon as Lark entered.
Lark chuckled and answered in the affirmative. "They're fitted so you don't have to worry about feeling dragged down, and they're not so tight you feel restricted."
"Ahh."
"Were you waiting all this time to ask that question?" Lark asked as she unsnapped her cape and unhooked her utility belt and thigh holsters, one which housed a couple kunai knives and the other which held her collapsible jō staff.
"Yes," M'gann admitted sheepishly as she morphed her white top and navy blue skirt into her usual black body suit before putting on the clothes. "I didn't really see the point in putting them on if I could just morph my clothes into exact replicas."
"Well," Lark said as she set aside her belt and holsters, "you can't beat nice supple leather." M'gann chuckled in response. Lark pulled off her boots so she could step into her bike pants and shrug the jacket over her uniform, both of which were a matching dark gray with dark green racing stripes up the legs and arms.
The Martian grinned as she finished zipping up her jacket. "You're right!" she said happily as Lark pulled on her boots again. "I can totally do good work in these!"
"Glad you approve." Lark couldn't help but smile at M'gann's chipper attitude. She had long outgrown her girlish, happy-go-lucky attitude and optimistic outlook on life, but she could definitely appreciate it when she saw it in someone else, and M'gann certainly had both those attributes in spades.
"What did Batman want to see you about?" she asked curiously as they began making their way toward the hanger.
"He was just informing me of my part in the mission," Lark said. Before M'gann could ask her what that meant, they entered the hanger, where the boys were waiting.
Sure enough, there were six motorcycles lined up waiting for them, each designed and painted for their rider. Lark spotted her own bike between Robin's and Wally's which was sleek and designed for speed, with a lightweight but sturdy frame and tires perfect for gripping rain-wet streets.
Unlike Robin's bright red R-Cycle, Lark's motorcycle (which she refused to name, much to Dick's and Wally's disappointment) was dark matte gray with contrasting glossy dark green lines along the length. A matching helmet sat on the dark purple leather seat, which Lark placed on her head after throwing her leg over the bike.
The screen between the purple handlebars lit up as Lark started the engine. An overview of their trip appeared before giving a closer view of their current location in Happy Harbor.
"Is everyone clear on our destination?" Kaldur asked. When he got confirmation from the Team, he led the way down the hanger ramp and through the exit that led up to the grassy far side of the mountain.
The trip to Litchfield County was about two and a half hours, during which time Lark remained mostly silent. Wally flirted with M'gann, who attempted to deflect by addressing the others. If Lark wasn't the type to suffer from second-hand embarrassment, she might have found the whole thing amusing; Robin certainly did.
As it was, she couldn't help but chew on the inside of her cheek as they drove, worry gnawing at her gut even though she knew she wouldn't be joining the others on the next part of their journey. The job certainly seemed easy enough, but it just didn't feel right. If this really was Ivo's work, he was a genius who always proved to be a worthy adversary for Batman and the Justice League. Wouldn't he have some sort of contingency if his robots and androids were ever compromised?
They reached their destination to find the League waiting for them. Aqualad pulled up behind a clump of trees and bushes and cut the engine, the others following his lead. Lark took off her helmet and hung it from one of the handlebars.
"What's got you so rattled?" Robin asked, stepping next to Lark as she set her kickstand. "You hardly said a word the whole ride over."
"Oh, it's nothing," she waved off, though even she clearly didn't believe what she said.
He rolled his eyes. "Now I know something's up," he said. "You know how to lie better than that!"
Lark laughed a little, though behind her domino mask, her dark eyes were troubled. "It's this whole thing," she admitted privately to Robin and Batman as the latter joined them. "If this really is Ivo, wouldn't he have a way to keep an eye on his android? I mean, B, you have trackers in all of the vehicles. It makes sense a robotics expert would do the same, right?"
Batman seemed to ponder what Lark said. "Very well," he said. "Robin, keep an eye out and report if you have any trouble."
"Just me?" the young bird asked, turning to Lark. "You're not joining us?" he asked.
"You're missing out on the fun?" Kid Flash asked from behind them, and Robin and Lark turned to see the Team had gathered around them.
Lark threw a look over her shoulder at Batman, and he sighed. "I have another assignment for Lark. I'm confident the five of you can carry out this mission without her."
There was an undeniable chilliness between the bat and the bird, and the Team was unsure what to do. Robin cleared his throat and Batman nodded once before turning on his heel and joining the other Justice League members.
The Team followed as six trucks bearing the S.T.A.R. Labs logo pulled up and parked around the large crater in the middle of the field, which was already surrounded by the League members who had been free to meet.
Lark peered into the ditch and got a good look at Amazo for the first time. He had the skin of a Caucasian man, his red hair styled in a buzzcut with a sharp widow's peak. Given the size of his torso and legs, Lark imagined he was quite tall, perhaps the same height as Martian Manhunter, if not a little taller.
Once Batman directed the Leaguers to help the S.T.A.R. Lab technicians gather the Amazo parts, he called the Team to him, though Lark hung back. After a few minutes, Batman rejoined Lark and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm still pissed," she muttered.
Batman's lip quirked upward just slightly, and he nodded. "I know. I'll make it up to you."
He went to work overseeing the collection of all the parts. Once confident nothing remained off Amazo in the field, the lab techs packed up the pieces and loaded them onto the respective trucks. The drivers gave the okay, and Batman nodded his head in confirmation. Lark watched, only a little forlornly, as her teammates revved their engines and took off after their assigned trucks.
Flash, Green Arrow, Captain Atom, and Red Tornado all took off, going their separate ways. Before Superman could follow after them, Batman stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"I told you," he said, "we need to talk."
Superman glanced between Batman and Lark, and when the younger bird gave no indication that she would help him out of his predicament, he sighed. "Give me an hour. I'll meet you at Bibbo's."
Batman's hand tightened on Superman's shoulder, not enough to hurt him, of course, but enough to hold the Man of Steel's attention. "I expect you to be there," he said darkly.
"Don't worry, Bruce," Superman grunted. "I'll be there." He stepped out from under Batman's grip and took off.
"Can I go?" Lark asked as she and Batman watched Superman zoom off.
"No," Batman said simply, but when Lark glanced up at her mentor, she saw the corner of his lip twitching in an attempt to stop chuckling. He cleared his throat and said, "Get your bike; the Batwing is nearby."
The flight north was short enough that Batman decided to fly straight to Metropolis instead of stopping off in Gotham. He called Alfred to let hm know of his plans, and the kind butler agreed to drive Bruce's car to the Metropolis branch of Wayne Enterprises, where Naomi would then fly herself and Alfred back to the Batcave.
By the time they had landed, it was already just past nine, which was fine with Bruce; he was certain Clark would arrive late to piss off the usually punctual Bat, so showing up after him would just be amusing.
"Make sure he reads this, would ya?" Naomi requested as Bruce finished tying the dark royal blue silk tie that completed his sharp black suit. She held up a folded letter, which he had noticed she had been working on the entire flight.
"I won't leave until he does," Bruce chuckled as they walked down the ramp of the Batwing, where Alfred was waiting with the car keys. He put an arm around Naomi's shoulder in a side hug, thanked Alfred, and then headed down toward the street.
Naomi and Alfred watched his car pull out from the underground parking, and she wore a slight scowl as her dark eyes followed the sleek black car.
"Something the matter, Miss Naomi?" Alfred asked as he gently escorted her back to the Batwing.
"He pulled me off the mission," she muttered. "He told the others it was because he had another assignment for me."
"But you don't believe him." It was a statement, not a question, and Naomi nodded. "If I know Master Bruce—and I think I know him quite well—he wouldn't have said he had another job for you if that wasn't the truth."
"I s'pose."
She paused at the bottom of the ramp, staring out at the Metropolis skyline. Behind her, Alfred chuckled. "If you wish to eavesdrop on Master Bruce's conversation with Mr. Kent, I can manage the Batwing just fine on my own."
"Eavesdropping is such an ugly word," Naomi said, glancing over her shoulder with a quirked eyebrow, though she did grin a moment later. "Thanks, Alfred."
Location: Metropolis, Connecticut
Date: Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Time: 2110 EDT
Clark Kent sighed as he checked his watch for the umpteenth time since he had been seated at Bibbo's Diner. The Dark Knight had agreed to meet at nine, so Clark arrived seven minutes late to make Bruce wait. Joke was on him though; he was the one being forced to wait. What was more, Clark knew it was a play by Bruce, since he was never late unless it was part of his façade as playboy Bruce Wayne. And now, apparently, it was a power move by Batman to play mind games with his opponent.
The reporter grumbled as he reflected on the day. Bruce had seemed unusually adamant about meeting, and Clark wondered what he could have done to warrant that kind of attention.
There had been the incident on the bridge that morning...
Superman grunted as he felt the bridge shift slightly on his shoulders, and he knew there was only one person who could have landed so harshly as to cause the shock waves. He quickly finished using his heat vision to reinforce the steel braces before flying out from under the bridge to lift the school bus, which was precariously close to falling into the river below.
"I had that," the clone said as he approached.
"I didn't want to take the chance," Superman replied evenly. "As it is, your landing could have destabilized the entire bridge," he reprimanded.
"It didn't," was the weak argument.
"But it could have," the Man of Steel frowned. "We don't yet know the limits of your powers."
The clone—Superboy—glanced away uncertainly as he said hesitantly, "Well, maybe you could, you know, help me figure that out."
It was Superman's turn to glance away uncomfortably before saying stiffly, "Batman's got that covered."
"Yeah, I know, but—"
He was cut off when the caped hero turned away, putting a finger to his ear to accept the League call. "What's attacking?" he finally asked. After a pause he said, "No, I'm definitely available," missing the hurt and then the anger in the young hero's eyes.
After receiving the coordinates and confirming he was on his way, he looked back at the clone. "Sorry, Super...boy," the Kryptonian said hesitantly. "Duty calls."
He didn't wait for a response before he took off, leaving Superboy to glare after him.
Superman became aware he had an audience only when the Dark Knight called. "Already got the alert, Bruce," he said.
"I know, Clark," the billionaire said as he watched the red cape flutter away, "but we need to talk."
Superboy didn't respond, which he knew Bruce hated, but he also had a hunch he knew what the Bat wanted to talk to him about, and he just wasn't ready for that conversation.
Ah...the Superboy. Right...
Clark sighed and rubbed his forehead, dreading the upcoming conversation. The little bell above the door signaled someone's entrance, and he glanced up only to scowl when he saw Bruce Wayne stroll in casually, an easy smile on his lips as he greeted the hostess before letting her know he was meeting someone.
The easy smile didn't disappear when he met Clark's narrowed blue eyes, and that frustrated the Kryptonian even further.
"We agreed nine," he said shortly as Bruce slid into the seat across from him.
"And what time did you arrive?" he countered with a smirk.
Clark was prevented from responding when Bibbo himself approached them to take their order.
"Apple pie," he said stiffly.
"The devil's food," Bruce requested with that same easy smile.
As Bibbo walked away from their booth, Clark rounded on Bruce. "Care to tell me what I'm doing here?" he demanded, hoping his hunch was wrong.
"You know exactly why you're here," Bruce said bluntly, his pleasant demeanor dropping immediately. "The boy needs you."
"No," Clark disagreed immediately, his eyebrows furrowed. "He needs...you. He needs Red." Glancing away, he sighed. "I'm just a constant reminder of what he's not."
Bruce quirked an eyebrow. "Sorry, Clark, but you're dead wrong," he said. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was Clark's turn to raise an eyebrow as he reached for the note.
Unfolding it, Clark sighed when he realized who had written it, and Bruce said, "Read it. She put a lot of thought into it."
Smallville, it started,
Look, I get it. I had doubts about letting him out, too. But he's NOT a weapon. Not anymore. He's a good kid with a good heart. He WANTS to be a hero, and the Team, Canary, and Batman are doing our best to be there for him and teach him what he needs to know. But we're not cutting it. Why? Because he wants YOU to be there for him, to show him the ropes. You're the only one in the world—hell, in the UNIVERSE—that shares his powerset, and he could learn a hell of a lot more from you than he could ever hope to learn from any combination of us.
You OF ALL PEOPLE should know what it's like to not understand their powers, to not know what their place in the world is because they're different. Like it or not, he's here to stay, and he needs you. I won't go so far as to say he's your son or you're his father—unlike some people *throws knowing look at Bruce*—but you sure as hell are SOMETHING to him, so be the adult and STEP UP.
The last two words were in big bold letters and underlined about half a dozen times for emphasis. To top it off, Naomi had signed the note by drawing a simple but very effective angry scowling face.
"You didn't put her up to this, did you," Clark stated rather than asked, because he knew Naomi enough to know she would speak her mind if she felt strongly enough about the topic. Bruce shook his head in confirmation.
"Everything you just read is straight from the horse's mouth."
"Did you read this?"
Bruce scoffed. "I'm not the blockhead she's trying to get through to." He sighed and his expression turned serious again. "Look, I know he...troubles you," he said, "but he's here. You have to get over the how and why." Clark turned away again, and Bruce said solemnly, "Trust me on this. This boy needs his father.
"I'm not his father," Clark said sharply, though he did appreciate now that Naomi hadn't tried to convince him he had any obligation toward the clone other than as a mentor. He glared at Bruce as he got to his feet, Naomi's note crumpling in his fist.
To Bibbo, he said shortly, "I'll take that pie to go," as he placed his hat on his head before marching to the register at the front of the diner. When the hostess informed him that the gentleman in the black suit had already covered the tab, Clark shot Bruce another dirty look before sparing a smile for the hostess and standing aside to wait for his pie.
Bruce sat back in the booth and frowned; at least he could tell Naomi he had delivered her message. He smiled in thanks as his dessert was delivered and he pulled out his phone to let Naomi know how his meeting with Clark had gone.
He was surprised when instead of a response via text, Naomi showed up in person, sliding into Clark's recently vacated seat still in her motorcycle leather and her hair parted off center.
When a waitress stopped by to take Naomi's order, she said happily, "Ooh, I'll have what he's having," gesturing to Bruce's devil's food cake. "And a glass of milk!" She smiled in thanks before turning serious.
"I was kinda listening in," she admitted, though she didn't sound very sheepish.
Bruce chuckled, having expected that to be her answer. "Since you obviously heard the entire conversation, you know what Clark's response was," he said.
"Do you think I could knock some sense into him?" Naomi asked as she stole a piece of Bruce's chocolate cake. "You know, in person?"
"I think he got the idea in your note," he said, knocking aside her fork as she tried to sneak another bite. "On the bright side, it seems he held onto it, so maybe he'll mull it over."
"I s'pose," she shrugged. "It is kinda fun to see the great Man of Steel cower before a tiny human though," she grinned.
Bruce's eyebrow quirked as Naomi's cake and milk was brought to her. "I hope you're referring to yourself, Lois, or Mrs. Kent," he said. "We're the same height!"
"You know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes. "'Tiny human' in the sense that we're so much weaker than him. But also, yes, me, Lois or Ma Kent."
It was true; Superman did not cower before any man, but three women could bring him to his knees if need be. Lois was on the list because Clark and Superman had a soft spot for the savvy reporter and anyone who knew him as Clark knew he was a momma's boy through and through.
Naomi had made the list soon after she became Lark, when she had been incensed he had used his x-ray vision to see her identity. At the age of eight, she had been taught early on to despise being left behind or left in the dark, and so had spent three days in the Batcave, pouring over reports and sightings and satellite images trying to find out who Superman was.
She had been beyond pleased with herself when she had presented her findings to Bruce, having narrowed down the search to three men. He had smirked proudly at her and then told her to get into the Batwing; they had a Superman to track down.
"I'd say give him a few days to sleep on it before you go knocking his door down," Bruce suggested. Naomi gave a half-shrug, half-nod, her mouth too full of her own serving of rich chocolate cake to vocalize her agreement. He chuckled in amusement.
The waitress who had taken Naomi her order sighed dreamily as she watched Bruce Wayne interact with his oldest ward. It wasn't uncommon to spot him in Metropolis, given Gotham was just across the river and there was also a Wayne Enterprises building in the city. It wasn't even his first time at Bibbo's. But she had never been on shift the previous times Bruce Wayne had stopped in, and now she felt as though she could die happy.
Naomi glanced out of the corner of her eye to catch the young blonde waitress staring. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, catching Bruce's attention.
"What?" he asked, confused.
"You've got an admirer," she said, tilting her head subtly in the direction of the waitress. Bruce had no qualms about turning his head completely to get a good look at the person staring. The waitress's eyes widened comically before quickly scurrying away, presumably to get back to work. When she glanced over her shoulder, Bruce lifted his coffee mug slightly and smirked charmingly.
"You're impossible," Naomi said, shaking her head. She quickly shoved the last bite of cake in her mouth before swallowing the last bit of milk and standing. "You ready to go? I'd rather keep my dessert down, thank you very much."
Bruce just chuckled and laid a fifty-dollar bill on the table, even though he had already overpaid for his own serving and Clark's pie. He caught the eye of the waitress once more, prompting Naomi to give him a little shove to get him moving.
When they stepped outside, Bruce guided Naomi to his car—the latest model Mercedes-Benz SLK. He opened the passenger door for her before hurrying around the hood of the car to get behind the wheel. Once he was seated, he turned to find Naomi already looking quizzically at the dark gray compact light-weight case at her feet.
"What do I need my uniform for?" she asked, turning to him with a quirked eyebrow.
"To keep me from being a complete liar," he said, passing her a folded piece of paper, "I need you to look into this for me."
"Ah, so you weren't lying when you told the others you had a separate mission for me," Naomi said dryly, taking the note and unfolding it. In Bruce's neat cursive handwriting was an address in Gotham's business district.
"I'll be driving through Gotham to get home," Bruce said casually, and Naomi understood his meaning.
"Good thing I'm still dressed for a night out," she said as she removed her motorcycle gear to reveal her Lark uniform still on underneath. Once they reached downtown Gotham, she grabbed her cape, domino mask, utility belt, and thigh holsters from the case at her feet, then ruffled her hair to fix the part and nodded at Bruce.
He slowed the car as he turned the corner into an alley and after lowering the passenger window all the way, Lark shot her grapple gun, her small frame fitting easily through the open window. Once safely perched beside one of the gargoyles that decorated the façade of Gotham First National Bank, she watched as Bruce's car disappeared around the corner. A moment later, his voice crackled to life in her earpiece.
"I'm a call away if you run into trouble," he informed.
"Gotcha. I'll keep you updated."
Her destination was only a few blocks away, but given the evening crowd, Lark proceeded slowly, making sure not to draw any attention to herself as she slipped from rooftop to rooftop.
When she reached the building in question, she swung on her grapple to the rooftop across the way in order to give herself a better view of the building front. Pulling out Bruce's note, she double checked her target: the top three floors of the office complex, which were rented by King Industries. Upon further research, Lark discovered King Industries was the western branch of Wang Industries, a successful company owned and run by Junhao Wang, English name Julian.
Despite it being nearly ten in the evening, the offices were fairly crowded, and Lark wondered if perhaps they were working that late in order to communicate with the home offices back in China. Using her holo-computer to dig up the building's floorplan, she plotted her way to what she assumed—and hoped— was the big man's office for when he was in town, figuring he wouldn't be in the building so late, even if he was stateside. She traded the computer for her grapple gun and swung her way to the roof.
She promptly made her way toward the vent and carefully pried the cover off before crawling in and pulling the grate into place behind her. Sticking the suction cup of her grapple to the vertical wall of the shaft, Lark carefully lowered herself down before slowly descending into the air ducts.
After consulting the floorplans once more, Lark began making her way quietly and swiftly toward the desired office. Once she found her destination and confirmed it was dark and empty, she carefully removed the grate and was about to drop to the floor when something made her pause.
A chill passed over her as her feet dangled from the vent, a toe just grazing the shadow of a potted plant by the window. She frowned as she brought her hand to her mask and flicked through the different filters until she found the one she wanted: a new addition that allowed her to see invisible security grids.
She gasped softly in shock. It had paid off; not two inches from where her foot had dangled was a thin red sensor light. Lark took a deep breath; she could wonder how she had thought to check for security measures inside the office later. For now, she had a job to do.
After inspecting the office and the laser grid, Lark sighed. The pattern of the grid was too complex for a non-contortionist to navigate, especially from a starting point of above rather than head-on. She was just mulling over her options when voices on the other side of the office door caught her attention. She scrambled to replace the vent cover just as the door swung open and the overhead light was switched on.
Lark watched as a man placed a stack of files on the desk before he started dusting. Her confusion was answered when a fellow coworker poked her head in the office to ask him why he was cleaning so late.
"I guess you didn't hear; the boss is coming in tomorrow."
As he continued his dusting, Lark frowned. How was it that he was able to enter the office without setting off any alarms? It seemed unlikely he would have been privy to any security measures within the office. So perhaps they were deactivated by an innocuous, everyday action, which would protect against someone sneaking in through the window or dropping in from the air vent. What could it be? The door opening? The lights turning on?
That must be it, she realized as the man left the office and turned off the lights behind him. If someone wanted to break in during the night, any light coming from the boss's office would draw suspicion, so the logical thing to do would be poke around in the dark. But if you left the lights off, the laser grid would remain active, and that would alert security of an intruder.
An idea came to her, and before she could question her sanity, Lark concentrated on the shadow of the potted plant. It shivered for a moment before slinking its way toward her. It coiled around her toe and then slithered over the rest of her body, enveloping her in a shadowy second skin.
"Now what?" Lark muttered to herself, eyes scanning the red laser grid. "I must be crazy!" she exclaimed quietly but before she could second guess herself, she dropped to the floor, her eyes shut tight. She waited for the inevitable sirens, but instead, there was only silence.
Slowly, she peeled open her eyes and saw to her astonishment that she hadn't set off any of the alarms because the lasers had passed right through her, like she wasn't even there. Had she become a shadow?
"Cool," she breathed out with a grin. She only gave herself a quick moment to be amazed at what she had managed before switching to hero mode. Pulling out a flash drive Batman had included in her uniform case, she made her way to the desk. Consulting the scrap of paper Bruce had given her again, she proceeded to download the requested files, which was basically everything.
"Batman to Lark."
The voice in her ear startled her, she hated to admit it, but after over an hour of complete silence, she hadn't been expecting Batman.
"Yeah, I'm here," she whispered. "I'm almost done; the download is at ninety-eight percent."
"Good," he said. "Radio when you're done."
"Gotcha. Hey," she said quickly before he could hang up. "How're the others?" It was half past ten, and Lark hoped the Team had managed to drop off the parts without a problem.
"It's been handled," was Batman's blunt response and Lark quirked an eyebrow.
"Guess it is a good thing I didn't tag along," she said quietly. The flash drive gave a soft beep, signaling it had finished the download, and she relayed that to Batman.
"I'm on my way. I'll pick you up down the block."
Lark pocketed the flash drive and then used the shadows to lift herself back to the air vent in the ceiling. Once she got the cover in place, she made her way to the roof. She emerged just as the Batmobile turned the corner and she raced across the roof to the alley Batman had parked.
She realized a second too late she had stepped off the building before she had gotten her grapple gun out, but before she could panic about the fall, she felt herself go weightless. She floated in the air for a moment before she began to haltingly make her way to the asphalt.
"That's new," Batman commented once Lark had climbed into the Batmobile.
"There's more where that came from, too," she said. Batman raised an eyebrow, and Lark said, "I'll show you when we get to the Batcave."
There was a beep over the Team comm and Batman and Lark shared a look.
"Batman," he answered.
"We have completed our mission with the Amazo Android," Aqualad said.
"Good," Batman said simply. "I'll contact S.T.A.R. and tell them it's ready for pick up. Where are you?"
There was a beat before Aqualad responded, "Gotham."
Batman growled under his breath and Lark wondered if the Team could hear it over the comms. When Robin answered hastily, "There was minimal damage though!" she took that as an answer in the affirmative.
"Send me your location and I'll pass it along," Batman ground out.
"Gotham Academy," Robin replied.
Lark's eyes widened and she saw Batman's fist clench on the steering wheel. "We'll see you guys back at the Cave!" she said quickly before Batman could turn around and head toward their school campus.
The line switched off and Batman shot Lark a side-glare. She rolled her eyes and said, "It's a long drive back to Rhode Island. I would have thought you liked the idea of them stewing for three hours."
Batman just grunted and Lark felt herself get forced back into the seat of the Batmobile as he stepped on the gas pedal. She rolled her eyes.
They arrived at the Batcave at a quarter to eleven. The first thing Batman did when he got to the computer was pull up the tracking device on Robin's R-Cycle. Because of the late hour and the leeway they would have regarding their speed, the estimated time of arrival to the Cave was just after one in the morning.
"Told you they'd have a long drive," Naomi said as she came up behind him.
He just grunted.
"So...here's the flash drive." She held the dark purple drive in front of Bruce's face, which he took with another grunt. "What exactly is it you have on this guy, anyway?" she asked over his shoulder once he began going through the files Lark had stolen.
"There's a connection between him and an underground organization in China."
Naomi raised an eyebrow as she straightened beside Bruce's chair. "Since when did you take an interest in foreign affairs?" she asked.
He just grunted once more and pivoted. "Pull up a chair and open your file. We need to update it."
"Right..." she muttered but did as he said. On one of the smaller satellite screens, Naomi pulled over a keyboard and began searching through the files.
When her powers had first manifested in March, Batman had begun to document and track the development and evolution of them. There wasn't much to track, though, since Naomi had refrained from using them as much as possible. There really hadn't been a need, she felt, in all their scuffles and fights between March and now for her to use them. But now, she found herself in situations that were made a hell of a lot easier with the new powers.
Within the file Batman had compiled on her, there was one file that had a few video clips of Naomi in the Batcave as she practiced manipulating the numerous shadows around her, with varying success. There were medical documents tracking any difference in her physiological and psychological makeup from pre-March and post-March (there weren't). Then there was a simple diary-style document that Bruce had insisted Naomi start writing, in her own words, anything and everything related to her powers: conscious versus unconscious manifestations; emotions she might have felt before, during, or after power usage; physical sensations she may have noticed before, during, or after.
Naomi scrolled through the electronic diary, skimming over her entries. There weren't all that many for the first three months, and what she had written were neat, bulleted, and very straight to the point. As she looked over the entries from July onward, though, she noticed that responses were growing longer and were starting to veer away from simply tracking her physical experience and more toward her mental and emotional.
She felt her heart rate pick up and she glanced to see if Bruce had noticed. He was busy sorting through the downloaded files to sense the nervous air that had settled around his oldest ward. Naomi quickly closed the electronic document, making a mental note to look over them later and noticing, to her relief, that Bruce had never opened that file.
Bruce finally finished recategorizing all the stolen files and he turned to Naomi, only to find her seat next to him empty. He heard the rhythmic punching of blows landing on a training dummy and glanced over his shoulder to see Naomi still in her uniform and working out. There was a crease between her eyebrows and her jaw was tense.
He opened his mouth to ask her how she was feeling, but a beep from the computer drew his attention away from Naomi. He realized it was an alert from Robin's motorcycle, informing the Batcave that he and the Team were just a few minutes out from Mount Justice. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was a little before one in the morning; he hadn't realized it had taken him so long to go through all the files from King Industries.
He pulled his cowl over his head and stepped away from the computer, sweeping toward the Zeta-Tube. He paused when he passed Naomi, surprised she hadn't noticed the alert.
"Naomi."
She finally looked up and Batman noticed the slightly unfocused glaze over her dark eyes. "What's up?" she asked.
He tossed her a towel and said, "The Team's almost to the Cave. Care to join me?"
"Oh, right." Naomi followed Batman, wiping off the light sheen of sweat on her skin and placing her mask over her eyes.
"Batman to Justice League," the Dark Knight said as he and Lark walked toward the Zeta. "The Team is a few minutes out from the Cave. Those who can meet at the Cave, please do."
Since Batman was hailing the League on the Justice-Leauge-only comms, she didn't hear a response, but she wondered if Superman would be joining them. Lark stepped into the Zeta and appeared in the Cave a moment later, Batman right behind her.
Red Tornado was already waiting for them in the mission room, and after briefly addressing the inhuman Leaguer, Batman pulled up the hologram computer to further track the Team's approach.
Behind them, the Zeta-Tube lit up again and the computer announced Black Canary, Green Arrow, and Martian Manhunter. Once they exited the Zeta, Lark kept listening for a certain Kryptonian, but then sighed when it remained dark.
"Just in time," Batman said to the League as on the screen, the trackers on the motorcycles showed the Team had arrived at the Cave.
Lark waited just behind Batman with Red Tornado and Green Arrow flanking the Dark Knight and Black Canary and Martian Manhunter on the Emerald Archer's other side.
The Team filed in just them, Aqualad in the lead and the others trailing tiredly behind him. They perked up slightly when they saw members of the Justice League standing with Batman.
Once they were all positioned in front of the League, Aqualad started the debrief.
"The Amazo Android is in pieces again, safely being analyzed at the two separate S.T.A.R. Labs," he started. "But Ivo escaped, and since he originated the tech, he's arguably more dangerous than the android."
"Capturing the professor will be a League priority," Black Canary informed the Team.
"But we understand your mission encountered...other complications," Martian Manhunter added, crossing his arms across his chest.
Lark noticed the Team glance at Superboy, who in turn glanced in the opposite direction. He caught Lark's gaze, though, and he offered her a tiny nod, which she responded to with a small smile; maybe things were turning around for him.
"Complications come with the job," Batman said, stepping forward. "Your ability to handle them has impressed the League."
"The whole League?" Superboy asked skeptically.
"Given time, yes," Batman said. "Kryptonians, as you know, have very hard heads."
"Boy, do they ever," Lark added quietly with a smirk, and the smallest smile crossed Superboy's lips.
"Of course," the Dark Knight went on, "there's no shame in asking for help. That's why the League exists, because there are some problems even we can't handle individually."
"Please," Robin scoffed. "If we needed help, we'd never get the chance to ask!" He reached into his belt and pulled out a green arrow. "Look familiar?" he demanded.
Lark understood the insinuation, but she frowned a little; that didn't look like Green Arrow's arrow.
"You were following us!" Robin continued as Batman took the arrow from him. "Babysitting! You still don't trust us!"
As Batman passed the arrow to the archer, Lark said to the Team, "I can't vouch for G.A. or the others, but Batman and I weren't anywhere near Gotham Academy all evening."
"We didn't follow you," Green Arrow confirmed as he examined the unfamiliar arrow. He pulled out one of his own from his quiver and held it out for the Team to compare. "See?"
"And that's not your arrow," Robin said slowly, the fight leaving his voice. "But that means—"
"Speedy!" Kid Flash finished for Robin happily.
"He has our backs," Aqualad said, cracking a smile.
Kid Flash sped forward and snatched the arrow from the archer's hand. "Souvenir!" he declared with a grin.
Lark's eyebrows furrowed in thought. As great as it would be to have Roy on the Team, it didn't seem like him to not show his face. Besides, Speedy's arrows had never been green, right?
She looked at Batman and saw him exchange a glance with Green Arrow and she realized: they didn't know whose arrow that was either.
A/N: Another long chapter, with an original take for an OC in the Amazo fight. I was originally just rewriting the chapter to include instances of Lark's powers in use during the fight, but then I realized that with Batman always being cautious and let's face it, paranoid, he would pull Lark from the mission to keep Amazo from gaining her abilities.