Legal Bat 3 - (Batman: Wayne Family Adventures, Lawyer!SI)
If you wish to Donate and Support: ptreon DOT com / socialistbukharin
So, I am injured. Well, I am a recovering injured.
My 'wound', if it could be addressed as such considering the many extensive ones the Joker was keen to inflict, was currently hidded away by a triple-layered bandage over my hand. I had already changed it earlier this morning so I could apply the medical concoction the doctor told me to rely on.
It was good stuff, nothing that made me go cuckoo and I definitely didn't stare at my PC screen wondering why I couldn't get the Wordle of the day right even though I got all but one letter.
Okay, fine, I guess I am a bit out of it. And this wasn't helpful with some sleepless nights that had came out of the verdict - someone had been put on my place while I was recovering, but there was no need for any major stuff for me to do beyond having my replacement read out my closing statement.
I had opted against using inflammatory words as I had already done way more than enough to piss off the Joker and his goons. In fact, while the Joking One had been shipped off to Blackgate, my current fleet of guards decreased by... doubling its size.
Did I say 'decreased'? I meant 'increased' because I got a menacing letter written in fucking crayons.
I wasn't going to risk it. And I listened to whatever the Commissioner told me to keep my eyes open about.
One of those rules was to avoid any major public gatherings.
...So, that kind of didn't last.
I mean, how was I supposed to expect Wayne to invite me at one of his parties? In fact, what should have told me that the Batman wanted to check on me like that?
Maybe he didn't want to put a bigger target on me if some of the Joker's thugs noticed his favorite 'lovebird' was going to some other guy's flat but... yeah, that sounded way weirder than I needed it to be.
After making sure that I had my prettiest party outfit (which definitely was not something my mother fitted on me through one of the older outfits from my dad), I was off driving to the Wayne Manor. Me and my battalion of cops.
Not exactly a fine circumstance, but I was told Harvey Dent had it rougher.
Still, I was unlike my 'predecessor' as the media had started to call me. The 'Second Dent', the man that could clean up Gotham, and the one that led up the charge against one of the biggest criminals in human history.
I have to admit I hadn't exactly grasped how big of a reach this case would have gotten.
Sure, Gotham and the US in general were predictable, but the news rocked through the entire planet as the internet was so happy to remind me in my Zwipper feed.
And there wasn't a better way to confirm this than seeing the mildly-naive elite of Gotham in those parties.
The very moment people spotted me in the manor was where my night turned from dreadful to decimating.
Speaking with Journos? Tiring. The 'curious rich folks of Gotham'? A different breed of tiring.
The worst part is that they wanted details and 'could get pissy' if they didn't get enough of an explanation.
So, imagine me, trying to not fuck this over for me as I needed this party- why? Well, I still needed to keep PR good. I could dodge a lot of interviews, But I needed to keep something of a presence around.
I thought I could have managed this just fine, but I was slowly regretting this situation.
It got somewhat better as I found myself finally shaking hands with Bruce Wayne himself.
"Mr. Mercer, I am glad you could make it."
"Mr. Wayne, thank you for inviting me to this party."
I leaned back and noticed someone else was there too, but he had used his height to avoid detection for a time.
"I suppose that is your son, Damian."
The boy looked up at me with a mix of surprise and disinterest.
"My youngest, yes. Damian, this is-"
"The lawyer that beat the Joker," The boy interrupted, bluntly stating the new title I got from the tabloids. "If I may ask you, Mr. Mercer, what drove you to strike at the Joker like that?"
I saw Bruce giving his kid a frown, and then apologetic look to me but-
"It's alright, Mr. Wayne. After all, I already answered this question publicly so I can do it again," I assured before turning back to Damian. "To put it as simple as possible, the Joker's situation had been up in the air for some times for us lawyers and we have been playing hot potato about it for years. It had to have been solved a long time ago, but there was a constant fear between handling the Joker and how to deal with him. The simplest option was to remove this whole reinforced 'Insanity Defense' that many criminals in Gotham use, but that would kick the whole hornet nest and have the entire underworld after me."
"But then what's the point of the trial? You just put the Joker in Blackgate, he will escape-"
"And we all expect that to happen," I assured the boy, confusing him briefly. "You see, the point of the trial is not to put the Joker in Blackgate. It's to strip him of his Insanity Defense. Without that, he can be finally subjected to proper trials to dish out harsher sentences. And, no matter his trickery and his money, he will find himself in a tough enough spot to be put out of the streets for a long time."
"Or even be given the death penalty," Damian pointed out, almost delighted much to Bruce's growing chagrin. "Still, I hope for your recovery, Mr. Mercer."
"And I thank you for your kind words, Damian. Mr. Wayne, I will take my leave since I can tell you have other guests."
The businessman forced a smile and nodded, allowing me to properly leave the spotlight and enjoy some of the food there.
I had already tasted some of the snacks already, but I had eyed some cookies in a while. And seeing how the plate containing that mountain of chocolate-flavored sweets was now a single one in the middle of the plate, I knew I had to strike fast.
With the speed of a cheetah (or what my disabled hand could give me), I got to the plate, reached out and... I got the cookie. And then another hand got to mine.
The grip was solid, admittedly I thought I was dealing with another guy from the manor but... as I turned, I felt frowning at this individual.
The formal outfit and short hair said 'dude', but the rest was definitely 'girl'.
"Can I have it?" The voice was feminine enough, but I had no clue who this girl was.
For a moment I thought this was genderbent Dick Grayson due to the blue highlights by her front hair, but I could tell that wasn't the case as I had seen Dick around being Bruce's sweet kid with some old ladies wanting to 'pinch his cheeks'.
"You may not."
She pouted. "Well, I want it."
"Tough luck."
"I mean it," She said with an annoyed grin. "...Please?"
"Nope."
"Oh come on," She whined. "It's for a good cause-"
"I am not subscribing to the 'feed you' cause."
"Ugh, jerk," The woman huffed, hand slowly receding as she fetched her phone and... I noticed something while still looking at her.
"...You watch Star Twinkle Precure?"
This was such a random question that it definitely got her outright gawking.
"I-I don't?" She half-lied, hiding away her phone as I clearly saw a very familiar critter on her wallpaper.
"That cute mascot there was Fuwa and she is from Star Twinkle Precure," I flatly pointed out. "And..." I paused, looking at the cookie. "How about splitting in the name of good tastes?"
The woman appeared a bit unsure if accept the kind offer or to reject it out of embarrassment but... she huffed.
"Fine. But you answer me a question: how did you know about Fuwa?"
"Star Twinkle is my favorite Precure season."
...
"Y-You watch it?"
"Have been since Season I," I remarked with a hint of pride, recognizing that I was speaking with a fellow fan as she appeared delighted.
"Neat! I am Harper," The woman said, as I passed her half the cookie.
"Jay. So, what's your favorite season?"
"Star Twinkle too," She replied with a giddy smile. "There's some good designs and fights."
"And the movies-"
"Peak cinema," Harper confirmed with a nod. "So... wanna talk more about it?"
"Oh, definitely."
So yes, in such an unlikely place, I made the acquaintance with someone quite unusual and yet amusing. I wouldn't say I made a friend out of Harper, but geeking out over magical girls sure felt like that.
That being said, something about the name 'Harper Row' felt familiar, but I couldn't recall due to how little knowledge I had for modern DC stuff...
AN
Am I wrong in imagining Harper loving Precure? I mean, it is a soft-Yuri show with magical girls throwing hands and blasting their foes.
And yes, we are locking in on Harper.