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Batman Forever-The Rewrite

by OneUniverse87 (ao3)

Chapter 1: Two Years Later, A Mad Man Escapes

 

It was a dark, gloomy night in Gotham City. Black clouds rolled in, covering the skies, engulfing the place in darkness with pouring rain. The grey streets were no less busy, as the citizens were going about their daily lives, running through the weather, and braving the cold October winds. Aside from a few criminal activities going on in the city, which was nothing unusual in Gotham, nothing around here has changed much in the last two years.

For as long as anyone can remember, the city has always been plagued with crime. Violence, hatred and so much injustice.

When had this place ever had a beautiful night? Like ever? 

About two or three blocks away from the towering skyscrapers, there was one particular street that was not populated by Gothamites, not far from the city center, was a lone Gotham Jewellery store.

From the side of the building, the alley was engulfed in darkness, a poorly dim lamp post barely shining, looking as old, shady, and damp, with no proper maintenance after many years of decay. With the sky darkening, the rest of the night didn't look much more promising.

Over the side entrance of the jewellery store, parked an odd brown van. The side door of the vehicle opened up, climbed out two men, one holding a brown duffel bag, visible shaking, and the other was armed with a beretta. They were dressed completely in black with sweaters, pants, and combat boots, and their faces were completely covered with ski masks to conceal their identities.

The robbers had crept their way through the back entrance of the jewellery store, with the first one with a gun, who holstered his weapon to fish out what looked like a lockpick.

"Come on man, we gotta hurry!" one of the men said rather impatiently.

"Calm your shit man, you've got more chance of winning the lotto over running into them, so shut up and...got it!" The man said as he picked the lock of the store and made his way through the entrance.

One of the guys opened the door slowly, keeping an eye for any unseen lasers or tripwires that would trigger alarms that would alert the police, or worse, the costumed freaks who think they run the city like they were the sheriffs of Gotham.

To one of the robber's relief, there was no triggering mechanisms insight, as they stealthily walked through the door.

Outside just over the road where the robbery was taking place, a silhouetted figure was hiding in the shadows from the rooftops above. The figure stepped out, and it turned out that it was a woman in an hourglass body frame, swaying her way over the edge of the roof to squat down, causing her skintight outfit to creak loudly with each move she made.

She looked over at the jewellery store, her bright green eyes looking through the window to see the two men putting all kinds of pearls, diamonds, and gold in the duffle bag. Deciding on a course of action, she jumped from the ledge and landed with cat-like grace on her feet just in front of the van, blending herself into the shadows to swiftly make her way through the door.

The first robber was nearly done completing the task of shoving pearls, gold, and diamonds into the bag, when his accomplice next to him was looking over his shoulder, looking like he was about to wet himself with fear.

"I'm tellin' you, man," said the second robber in a panicked whisper. "I have a bad feeling about this!"

The first robber just rolled his eyes in annoyance. Why must this yellow belly of a man have to be so damn paranoid?

"Would you quit worrying and help me with the stuff, will ya!?" he barked.

"What if they would come? What if one of them is watching us right now?" said the other one, sweating with fear and a hint of edge on his voice.

"Quit being a chicken shit and start packing the jewels!" barked the first, having enough of the whimpering idiot. "No one will stop us, not tonight, or any night!"

"Oh my, I didn't take you boys for the type to appreciate fine jewellery," A husky, feminine voice called out as the two men looked up to see a woman dressed from head to toe in skin-tight black latex. She wore a pair of matching elbow-length gloves with sharp claws on her fingertips and matching thigh-high boots. Her face was covered, a black cowl with cat ears covering all but her beautiful ruby red lips, wrapped around her waist was a long bullwhip dangling behind her like a cat's tail.

It was Catwoman.

"Shit!" cursed the first robber. "It's the cat bitch!"

"I told you something like this would happen!" told the now panicking second robber.

"Shut it!" snapped the first, angry that his plans were quickly going down in flames. "Now, we have to deal with this costumed freak before we make our getaway!"

Catwoman stood firmly on her spot, waiting for one of the thieves to make the first move, smirking to herself, finding joy to see the fools in front of her arguing over their botched robbery.

The second robber whipped out his gun to point it at Catwoman. Before he could pull the trigger, she flicked her wrist with ease to bring her whip to wrap it around the barrel of the gun to yank it out of the surprised robber's hands and threw it behind her out of sight.

Before either of the robbers even had time to react, the costumed vigilante in black latex launched herself to use the sole of her boot to give the yellow-bellied one a straight kick to the face, which knocked him out instantly. The first robber stood flabbergasted for a brief second before looking at the smirking feline.

"C'mon, big boy," taunted Catwoman in a throaty tone. "Where's the fire in you?"

He lashed out in anger, just as Catwoman predicted, as he started throwing multiple fists at her. She easily dodged his oncoming attack before giving him a strike to the face, scratching him with her talons. The robber yelled in pain and rage, holding his bloodied face with his hands, but didn't see the finishing blow which sent him flying to the floor that temporarily stunned him.

Catwoman let out a satisfied grin on her masked features and flicked her fingers off her shoulders as if she were wiping some dust away.

"Like the Red Triangle Circus Gang, piece of cake..." thought Catwoman in triumph.

It didn't take long for Catwoman to tie the defeated robbers back to back with an unbreakable rope, tying a knot at the end to make sure it was nicely secured so any of them wouldn't escape from the GCPD.

The first robber gave her a death glare, feeling beyond humiliated, as the feline vigilante tossed the duffel bag containing the jewels right in front of them.

"You costumed freaks had to go and ruin everything, don't you!?" ranted the robber, not liking the idea of being in jail one bit. "I bet you were showing us up and radioed Batman in for his help!"

"Oh please, I didn't need Batman's help to get the job done," grinned Catwoman in a taunting manner. "Besides, I'm doing just fine holding my own. And someone is not getting crossed off Santa's naughty list anytime soon, even though it's nearly Halloween." She giggled to herself at her own joke.

From the distance outside, she heard wailing sirens ringing in the air, signalling for her to leave. The latex-clad woman turned her head back to the tied-up robbers with a wide, mocking smile on her face, relishing the moment.

"Well, I'd love to stay and throw more banter at you boys," purred Catwoman. "But I'm afraid I must dash. Have fun behind bars." She flashed a wink at them before she leapt out of the store through the back.

The door of the main entrance was kicked open, and the GCPD rushed through to see the burglars tied together back to back on the floor.

"Police! Hands up!" ordered one of the officers, his gun trained at them.

About a couple of minutes later, order was restored at the Gotham Jewellery store. Police cruisers were at the front of the store, with one officer reporting in what had happened with Commissioner James Gordon. There was also a GTV News van that parked near the store, obviously covering the botched robbery.

Up at the same rooftop where she came from, Catwoman watched in the darkness to see the robbers being lead away in handcuffs, satisfied to see another work done for the night.

"Another night, another job done..." thought Catwoman, getting up from the ledge, stretching her arms upwards, and letting out a sigh from the back of her throat.

She made a few steps across before a sound was ringing in her ear. It sounded like something anyone would hear from a mobile phone that only the user would hear, as Catwoman pressed her fingertips against the cowl where her ear was at.

"Go ahead, Alfred," answered Catwoman to the radio earpiece.

"The news bulletin is just in, Miss Kyle," announced the voice of Alfred Pennyworth through the commlink. "The report said that Catwoman had caught and apprehended the jewellery thieves. Nice work, by the way."

Catwoman grinned at the compliment, her persona slipped away, turning back into Selina Kyle.

"Thanks, Alfred," said Selina softly. "Anything else to report in?" 

"Actually, Miss Kyle," informed Alfred. "I've called to inform you that Master Bruce is returning home from his meeting."

Selina couldn't help but feel a delightful shudder of pleasure at the thought of her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne. During those 2 years since she had been with her knight in black armour, there never had been a single, dull moment with him. At every opportunity, she would flirt with him, and him exchange it back at her which always leads to the couple making love or getting rough with each other, either as their alter egos up on the rooftops after dealing with average criminals and robbers or as themselves after long, tiring meetings at Wayne Enterprises.

Granted, she had gotten used to being one of Gotham's heroes since she arrived at the scene, as well as with some much-needed training from Bruce at the Batcave, but she was looking for a bit of a challenge since there hadn't been any major criminals since Max Shreck and the Penguin.

Selina felt butterflies in her stomach when an idea formed in her head, a very naughty idea that she had planned for quite some time.

"Say, Alfred," pondered Selina to the commlink. "Would you mind telling Bruce that I'll be down at the cave as soon as he gets back? There's something that I wanna help him with down there."

"I will relay the message when the young master returns, Miss Kyle," replied Alfred, getting the full meaning behind the message before the link was cut off.

Selina turned her head to look over at the horizon, licking her red painted lips lustfully, as she unwrapped her whip, using her arm to swing it back and forth to flick it onto the nearby pole to swing herself off the rooftop.

---

Driving behind the wheel of his prized red Jag, millionaire, playboy, and philanthropist Bruce Wayne was speeding past the road straight ahead, making his way back home to Wayne Manor after another one of those long, exhausting meetings at Wayne Enterprises.

His business associates and employees knew that seeing him in the morning was problematic. Early afternoon the odds rose to about fifty-fifty, and by late afternoon one was far more assured of catching his ear.

Consequently, there had been a subtle shift of hours at the Wayne Foundation. There was no company policy or official memo, but slowly but surely, it became acceptable to arrive late and stay late. Wasn't that bad a deal, really; it was a nice way to avoid rush hour traffic.

Although when it came to beating traffic, it was hard to top the resources at Bruce Wayne's disposal.

With the meeting finally out of the way, he smiled at the thought of his girlfriend of two years, Selina Kyle.

It only felt like yesterday since she first appeared on the scene as Catwoman, and every moment he had with her was always a thrill. It was never boring or repetitive, and every night they had with each other was always different from the other.

It was amazing how fast those two years went by since he started going out with the blonde feline, and a lot had happened since then. From putting a stop to the Penguin's plans, as well as exposing Max Shreck's dirty secret to Gotham, forming a permanent team with her, all the way to locking up ordinary robbers and muggers. Since the Gotham news got hold of the Batman/Catwoman alliance, crime was nearly at an all-time low, but there will always be some minor incidents along the way, but as long as Gotham needs vigilantes like Batman and Catwoman, there will be right there put a stop to it.

He couldn't help but smile at the thought of when he showed her the Batcave for the first time not long after the incident down at the abandoned circus that was the Penguin's old lair.

Her reaction was something that he will not forget.

---

Bruce stood at one end of the room at the window, his hands behind his back, deep in thought, as he waited for Selina to return from the bathroom to freshen herself up.

It was the morning after the final confrontation with Shreck and the Penguin, and Bruce couldn't help but think about what had happened down at the old aquarium.

What would've happened if that gunshot from Shreck had knocked him out longer than he anticipated? What if Selina had lost the majority of her mind and actually did kill him down there? He closed his eyes and shuddered at the thought if she had killed Shreck.

Like she said to him, she wouldn't live with herself if she did commit the deed, and she would probably leave the city and never return for Bruce's safety.

Thankfully, it never happened. He had got through to her before she did anything she will regret, he exposed Shreck's shady business deals afterwards, and now she's in the middle of the process of moving in with him. He had to admit, aside from Alfred, he was not used to having some company under the roof of his home, because of the lost years he had to endure after the loss of his parents. In all honestly, he welcomed such a nice change.

Selina had mentioned to him her plans of moving out of her old apartment, and putting it up for sale after the New Year, and Bruce couldn't be happier for her. From all the women he had been with before Selina came along, none of them had once offered themselves to move in with him, and in his honest opinion, come to think of it, they all weren't Selina.

Talking of which, Selina exited the bathroom, strutting her way over to him to wrap her arms around him from behind, and kissed his cheek.

"Penny for your thoughts, Bruce?" asked Selina huskily, resting her head on his back.

Bruce turned around in her arms so he can face her, before leaning forward to peck her lips, which she returned.

"Actually, yes," replied Bruce, grinning at her. "There's something I've yet to show you around this Manor."

Selina cocked her eyebrow in curiosity, wondering what her new boyfriend had in mind.

"Like giving me a grand tour of your home, are you?" she teased, grinning slightly.

"Guess you can say that," replied Bruce, taking her hand to walk her further into the manor. "C'mon, there's something I wanna show that's even better than the rest of the manor."

Bruce took Selina downstairs which lead them back to the main hall and turned to the left to open the door of the library. Being the gentleman that he is, Bruce let Selina walk through first before entering the room. In front of her, was an expensive grand piano with a bookshelf in front of it.

"Out of all rooms in the mansion, you consider an ordinary library better than the others?" frowned Selina in an unimpressed tone.

"Believe me," grinned Bruce, making a few steps to the piano. "There's more to it than it meets the eye. Watch."

Selina looked on curiously, as Bruce moved his hand to the keys of the expensive instrument. His fingers lightly pressed a few keys to make an off-key note, then another higher. After the third out-of-tune chord, the bookshelf shuddered and opened sideways like it was a door, revealing what appears to be a staircase leading underground.

Selina's jaw nearly dropped at what transpired. Her eyes were glued to the open bookshelf, imaging where it would lead her to. Bruce took her hand and guided her through the frame to go smoothly down the stairs. The stairs were grey and rocky to match the walls next to them. Selina couldn't tell, but either her eyes were playing tricks on her, or the narrow corridor looked like it was getting darker with each step downwards.

When they finally reach the bottom, Bruce felt Selina's grip on his getting tighter, he let out a wide smile at seeing his new girlfriend looking up to see the Batcave in all its glory.

"Woah..." breathed Selina, her green eyes widening at the magnificent place.

The underground cave was exactly as it says on the tin. It was dark, dank and barely have any form of light, save the glow that was illuminating from platforms and ramp ways. What she saw next, had made her held her breath in her throat.

There was a high-tech computer with a console in front of it, and Selina would guess, all the stuff was classified information, same goes for the gadgetry and weapons that were lying about on the working table with lights shining it above. There was a box-like room that contained the Batsuits.

"So that's how he kept replacing them..." thought the feline blonde, her mind briefly shifted to her sexual encounters with Bruce with a smirk.

And over to the centre, stood the wreckage of the Batmobile. Selina sighed at the state of it, not surprised the Penguin did a number on it two nights before. She heard reports of the incident that Batman had ruthlessly tried to kill the Gothamites and caused all kinds of mayhem all over the streets, but she knew it wasn't the case. It was all the Penguin's dastardly scheme to make Gotham turn their backs on their protector.

Thankfully, the Ice Princess said otherwise, when she revealed who was actually behind her kidnapping, along with all the evidence that Shreck had left down at the Penguin's lair.

Bruce's smile never left his face, watching his new girlfriend's reaction.

"Selina Kyle, welcome to the Batcave." he introduced politely.

Selina gently placed her hand on the working table to calm herself from getting overwhelmed by this.

"I think I need to sit down..." she whispered astonishingly before she planted her rear to the nearest chair.

"Take a few deep breaths," advised Bruce.

Selina shifted to get herself comfortable in her chair, relieved that she found herself a chair to calm her nerves because if she didn't she probably would've fainted right in front of Bruce.

The blonde placed her hand on her chest, in an attempt to control her heartbeat. All this stuff he kept down here. All those fancy high-tech he had, from the suits, computers, the gadgets and the Batmobile. All this time when she first visited Wayne Manor for her date with Bruce, and she hadn't the faintest idea that her new boyfriend had an underground cave as his base of operations beneath her feet, being completely oblivious to all this. She was having trouble wrapping her head around all this, This place was just amazing! Damp and a little cold, but amazing!

"Okay!" said Selina finally, opening her hands in front of her like a form of surrender. "Time out here! Oh god, this is overwhelming..."

Bruce kneeled in front of her to put her hands on hers, and placed them on her lap, making her look into his steel-blue eyes.

"A little too much to take, Selina?" grinned Bruce playfully.

She chuckled at his silly question.

"Yes, maybe a little," Selina admitted, couldn't help but grin back at him, before getting her heartrate in control and eyeing the gadgets on the work table next to her.

"So this is where you keep all your fancy toys and tricks, huh?" she grinned.

"I wouldn't say they're mere toys, Selina," joked Bruce, getting to his feet to pick up a fresh Batarang."A lot of money went down to make these gadgets to further assist me in fighting crime. In fact, they were all invented and manufactured in secret by Wayne Enterprises."

"Can't I get one of my own somewhere down the road?" asked Selina, loving the idea of having more than just a whip and a tazer in her arsenal.

"See if I can get a hold of Lucius about that after the New Year," he concluded, handing the metal to Selina.

"Noted." she finished, nodding at him.

She looked down at the fancy gadget, funnily enough, shaped like a bat, with a mix of determination and excitement. She looked at it long and hard before making the final decision.

"Well, Bruce," thought Selina, smiling widely. "Looks like that Batman has got himself a new partner in Catwoman..."

---

Bruce smiled fondly at the memory before he shook his head out of his daydream to concentrate on his driving.

The meeting he had earlier on had been the main reason he didn't join Selina in taking down the robbers tonight at the Gotham Jewellery store, which he had heard on the news that she had done another outstanding job on her own. A part of him was hoping that she'll be home in time, as there was something in mind for when he'll see her.

He turned his Jag to the right, and over at the distance, stood his stately home of Wayne Manor. The double gates opened to let the approaching vehicle in the courtyard, driving around the fountain until he pulled to a stop in front of the mansion. He climbed out of his car, making his way to the front entrance.

Bruce opened the double doors to let himself in the main hall, and resting on the window sill to the left in her warm, cosy pillow, was Selina's beloved cat, Miss Kitty. Then, Alfred strolled through the living area to greet his young master.

"Hey Alfred," greeted Bruce with a grin. "Did you see the news about the foiled robbery?

"That I have indeed," replied Alfred, smiling back. "Miss Kyle has done a tremendous job in capturing the robbers. Speaking of Miss Kyle, sir, she told me to inform you that she's down at the cave to conduct some business with you. She arrived back 10 minutes before you did."

Bruce wasn't surprised to hear that Selina had beaten ahead of him. He couldn't help but feel a certain feeling swirling around his stomach at what his girlfriend of two years had planned down at the cave. Between Bruce and Selina, it was a tradition for whenever they succeeded in their patrols, or when they were at the meetings at Wayne Enterprises to discuss the increasing stock, one moment to another always leads to them celebrating in a very interesting way.

"I'll head over there to congratulate her on a job well done," stated Bruce.

"Then I'll leave the two of you for the night," said Alfred, knowing the real meaning behind his young master's words. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Alfred," replied Bruce, watching his old friend resuming his final tasks before retiring for the night.

He went over to the left side of the stairs to a narrow room of shelves, displaying ornaments, silver cutlery and metal pottery. He reached out to the bottom of the top shelf to press a hidden button, which slid open sideways for Bruce to walk through to the Batcave.

During the last two years, the Batcave underwent a couple of drastic changes since Selina had moved in with Bruce. The Batcomputer was now heavily advanced with up-to-date technology he bought from Wayne Enterprises, and it had plenty of modifications from Lucius Fox, and the screen even had a double slide Bat symbol to cover it when it was turned off.

Next to the screen, stood an industrialized wardrobe containing the Batsuits, Catsuits, and all kinds of high advanced gadgets when suitable for missions and various situations when needed.

Bruce had retooled the Batmobile considerably. Not only had he redesigned the chassis to make it more aerodynamic, but he had built in several new computer overrides and newly advanced fail-safes so no outside interference from anyone hacking or tampering with the vehicle's security. He also took extra precautions with the vehicle after what the Penguin and Red Triangle Circus Gang had done to it during the night they framed him for the Ice Princess' kidnapping.

Bruce shuddered at the memory of the incident. He remembered what he had to go through, being at the eye of the storm that was the demolition derby from hell. He recalled the conversation Selina had with him about how the Circus Gang had infiltrated Wayne Enterprises to get a hold of the Batmobile plans, and therefore planted an antenna underneath the car so the Penguin would use it by remote control. To this day, neither Bruce nor Selina still had any idea as to how the Penguin got hold of the plans and blueprints from under his nose, and it was one of those things that they will probably never know.

Bruce made his way down the rocky stairs to the looming underground cave, and he stopped as soon as he got to the very bottom was the sight that he wanted to see all night long.

There was Selina, sitting in front of the Batcomputer, very casually resting her feet on the console with her red-painted lips curled up into a mischievous, naughty smirk on her face, and her bright green eyes staring right at him. She was still dressed in her Catwoman garb, lacking the gloves and mask, her blonde hair tied in a curly ponytail, which made her beauty stand out more in Bruce's opinion. She was getting more beautiful every day and he couldn't be more thankful.

"I see you got Alfred's message, Bruce," grinned Selina in a not-so-innocent tone.

"Yes, I did, Selina" replied the young millionaire. "He told me that I have some business to take care of down here."

Selina shifted her feet off the console to get herself up from the chair to glide her way to Bruce, swaying her luscious hips with each step she took, making sure her knight in black armour has his full attention on her, which never fails.

"Well, he's right on one thing," said Selina playfully, her green eyes shining with life behind them. "And what's business without adding some pleasure..."

Bruce caught on with her flirting, knowing what she had planned. He was trapped under her spell that she cheekily called it whenever they make love. Selina closed their space between them to wrap her arms around his neck to plant her lips for a kiss, which he kissed her back with the same, equal passion. He automatically placed his palms on her latex-covered ass, which she moaned in response. She swiftly wrapped her fingers around his tie, slowly untying it from the collar of his button shirt.

"Selina..." groaned Bruce.

"I'll never get tired of your treatment of my ass..." sighed the blonde feline. "Next thing you know, I'll find myself bending over for you to spank it..."

"That can be arranged, Miss Kyle..." whispered Bruce in her ear, diving down for her neck.

"Mmmm, looking forward to it," moaned Selina, her body trembled with lust uncontrollably. "Now, let's continue our celebration somewhere more cosy, shall we, Brucie?"

"With pleasure..." sighed Bruce, cocking her leg around his waist.

Selina responded by jumping off to wrap her arms and legs around Bruce's form. He held onto her buttocks as he took them both to exit the Batcave and all the way up to their bedroom before locking the door behind them to lose themselves in their love-making.

---

The crack of lightning momentarily drowned out the screams from within Arkham Asylum. But barely had the thunder rumbled away before the shrieks could be heard once more, unabated.

Arkham had a long and impressive history, dating back to the 1920s. Of course, so did war, pestilence, famine, and death. The mere existence of that tradition was not enough to instil confidence.

Arkham, named after its founder, Amadeus Arkham, was a dark and terrifying place. It had not always been that way. Once, in the dim past, it had merely been a dark and fearsome place. Time had a way of taking the various psychoses and illnesses that infested the human mind and upping the stakes.

To the normal asylums and institutions were consigned those who were merely a danger to themselves. To the abnormal asylums and institutions went those who were a danger to themselves and to society.

It was said that Arkham got those who were a danger to God.

This was an exaggeration, of course.

But not by much.

Arkham sat behind a massive fence with the Asylum's name etched in great twisted metal letters over the gate. The building itself didn't sit on the hill so much as squat there, like a great spider positioned and waiting for prey. The storm that had been threatening the area for some days had finally arrived, and it seemed as if it had settled directly over the gothically styled building. This wasn't unusual. Arkham always appeared to be a sort of lightning rod for every disruption and abomination that nature could possibly conceive of hurling at humanity.

The building was filled with people who were desperate, on edge, over the edge.

And that was just the staff...

The orderly's name was Richter, and Richter was in deep, deep trouble.

He slowly pushed along a cleanup cart, looking nervously right and left. His bald head was thick with sweat. His legs felt rubbery, and he was leaning on the cart as much to stand as to push the cart along.

Despite the thunder and lightning, the screams and the flickering lights, the overall stench of disinfectant and fear... despite all that, Richter's mind was nevertheless on anything but his job. He was dwelling on the people to whom he owed money. A lot of money. More money than he would see this month, or even this year.

If only the damned horse had paid off. It should have. Why should Richter be held responsible for the stupid horse's leg-breaking in the middle of the race? It wasn't fair...

And then there was that lousy run of luck at the card game. How could he have been expected to know that the other guy could beat an ace-high straight? It wasn't his fault...

And that night playing craps, he'd been on a roll. The money had been flowing and he'd had a hot hand, that rare feeling when you touch the dice and they're yours to command. By all rights, he should have been able to recoup all his losses and more, pay off the loan sharks, buy the wife that coat she'd been wanting, maybe even get enough in the bank that he could quit and survive for a year or more while looking for a good job, a decent job.

He couldn't have known that the hot hand would evaporate, just like that, leaving him cold bones and even deeper in debt. How could he have anticipated it? Just like that, just like that. It wasn't his fault.

He rolled past the guard at the maximum-security point, the wheels on the cart squeaking. The guard, whose name was Irvin, nodded slightly. Richter returned the nod and continued on his way.

He went past cell after cell. He was no longer looking around. Instead, his focus was utterly on the door that was up and to the right.

Room 22.

He stopped there, waiting for someone to say, "Hey! What're you doing!" But no one did. He drummed his fingers for a moment on the cart.

Next to the door was a keypad. The combinations were changed electronically and automatically every day. But Richter had managed to sneak into the head office and pick up that day's combo. He punched in the numbers and heard a soft click. The electronic lock had unlatched. He took a deep breath, and then eased the door open, pulling the cart in behind him.

There was a single stream of light in the cell, coming from a barred window overhead—nowhere near enough to illuminate the entire cell, even as small as it was. Nevertheless, the single occupant of the cell was partly visible. His legs were casually crossed, and Richter could hear something whirring through the air rhythmically. Something small and metallic tossed in the air and then landing in the occupant's hand.

"M- Mister Dent," called out Richter. "I'm... it's me. Richter."

"We know it's you," came the voice of the man Richter called Dent. He was only distantly related to the Harvey Dent who had met with Batman on the rooftops all that time ago; nominally, they shared a body. But that was all. The mind was something else again.

"I brought what you asked for," he stopped and fidgeted. "You probably want to see it, don't you?"

No sound, save for that up and down of the metallic object.

Richter reached down into the cleaning cart, to the hidden compartment he'd rigged up. He pulled out a pair of goggles and an acetylene torch. "Cut through the bars in no time."

"Put them down where we can see them," said Dent.

Richter stepped forward and did so. Then he paused and said, "You, you remember the deal."

"We remember it."

"The money, the money you promised me... Half a million, if I helped you escape... You... You do have the money?"

There was a two-second silence.

"You read the newspaper stories, just like everyone else," came Dent's voice. "You know we have two million stashed away. Half a mill of it is yours... unless, of course..."

"Unless what?"

Another two-second pause, and then something was thrust into the light.

It was a coin. It was a special commemorative coin, issued to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Lady Gotham, a statue situated in Gotham Harbor. Lady Gotham was depicted in profile on both sides. The coin gleamed in the shaft of light and then, with remarkable dexterity, he turned the coin to reveal the other side. Richter then saw that, whereas Lady Gotham had been pristine on one side, on this other side her head had been disfigured, slashes made through it.

"Would you be interested in, double or nothing?" came Dent's calm voice. "A flip of the coin decides."

"No," came Richter's immediate answer. "Are you insane? I'm risking my career, my freedom, violating trust, breaking the law, and you're asking if I want to chance winding up having nothing to show for it except an empty cell, a mountain of debts, and some guys who would rip my insides out just for kicks, much less for the amount of money I owe them?"

All of that very correct, very understandable response, rattled around in his head. But during that time, the twinkle of the coin sparkled in his eyes.

A million bucks...

It's crazy.

But a million bucks...

You've been hanging around in this nuthouse too long.

The gambling instincts pounded through him, and thudded in his temples until it was all he could hear. A half a million dollars would put him in the clear, sure, but a million, he'd be set for life... forever. Not only could he clear off his debts, but then he and the wife could blow town, go to some small island in the Bahamas or something, live like a king and queen on what was leftover.

For years, for so many years, she'd considered him a loser, a nowhere bum with a dream but no drive. Wouldn't the expression on her face be worth the risk?

Hell, for that matter. The Bahamas beckoned him, and she didn't necessarily have to be part of the Hell, for that matter... the Bahamas beckoned him, and she didn't necessarily have to be part of the equation. Wouldn't that be worth the risk?

The night erupted in light and sound, and the coin looked like a hellish ember.

"Well?" said Dent. "Decision time, Richter. Time is money."

"All right, you're on."

Barely were the words out of his mouth before the coin was airborne, flashing in the light. "Call it," said Dent.

He thought of the grotesque, scarred head. "Clean side," he decided.

The coin seemed to hang in midair, alternatingly beautiful and frightening. Then it spiralled to the floor and landed. It spun for a moment. Richter stepped closer to see for himself what the result was.

It hesitated, carried by its momentum, and then settled. Richter stared down at it.

Scarred side up.

"Too bad," said Dent.

There was a sudden, swift movement that Richter barely even had time to register. Then he felt a sharp pinch at his throat, and a warmth trickling down it. Automatically he put his hand to the source of the warmth and came away with a hand-coated with his own blood.

"Would you like your palm read?" asked Dent. "Oh, too late. It's red already."

Richter went to his knees. His already-blurring eyes managed to make out what Dent was now holding in his other hand: A double-edged razor blade. His mouth moved, forming the word, "Why?" but his vocal cords were traumatized and he couldn't produce the sound.

Nevertheless, Dent was able to make it out.

"Why?" he said, sounding genuinely puzzled. "You're asking why? But, isn't that obvious? It was double or nothing. Nothing means no money, no life, nothing. Null. Void. Two times zero is zero."

Richter's final thought was, I... I didn't know... it's not my fault... it's not fair... and then he crashed to the floor, the last sound he would ever be responsible for making.

Without bothering to glance at him, Dent, still hidden by shadows, stepped over him and picked up the acetylene torch. As he placed the goggles over his face and fired up the torch, he said to the man who could no longer hear him, "This has been a productive evening, Richter. Thanks to you, we not only escape, but we save half a million dollars. We're doubly grateful."

He fired up the torch, pushing back the darkness.

The right side of his face was much as it had been back when he had his meeting with Batman and Catwoman.

The left side of his face looked like a relief map of purgatory... Except, in this purgatory, there would never be any redemption or forgiveness.

There would just be more, and greater, insanity.

---

Dr. Burton, the chief psychiatrist of Arkham Asylum, was not particularly looking forward to this session. Meetings with Harvey Dent were not only an exercise in futility but self-control as well. Staring into that face. God, that face... was a test of Burton's ability to maintain his own grip on sanity.

He walked the old hallway, glancing around and making mental note of places where plaster was falling, where cracks were forming. They needed money to maintain the place, but the city budget was cut to the bone and it was difficult to get private donations. Arkham Asylum wasn't one of the "sexier" places where people could contribute.

He stopped at the entrance to the maximum-security wing and flashed a high sign to Irvin. The guard returned the gesture and then was almost deafened by a thunderclap overhead. Dr. Burton was somewhat less thrown. He, instead, was counting, as he had been much of the night. The rain had concentrated on Arkham, but the lightning had still been some distance away. Just like his father had taught him when he was little, Burton had been counting off the seconds between the flash of light and the thunder.

It had drawn closer and closer, the count going from ten to five in a dazzlingly short period of time.

"Hell of a night, huh, Doc?"

Burton chucked a thumb and said, "Hell's in here."

Irvin nodded in silent agreement. "Want backup, Doc?"

Burton considered it a moment. Then he nodded. Irvin promptly informed the central guard post, via his walkie-talkie, that he was accompanying Burton. Within twenty seconds a replacement would be there, the exit covered. Irvin's full concentration would be on making sure that Harvey Dent didn't try any funny stuff.

Burton approached Dent's cell, which was securely closed, as always. He punched in the release code and then gently pushed the door open.

"Mr. Dent..." he called, feeling some degree of comfort about Irvin's presence directly behind him.

He saw Dent's shadowed form seated in a chair. He garnered some relief from that. If Dent was visible, it meant he couldn't spring out from hiding.

"Counselor..."

No answer. Burton was now completely in the cell, and he stepped toward the unmoving figure, cautious and even a little worried. "Harvey..."

Lightning flashed as the body slumped over. It was Richter. The front of his uniform was covered with dried blood.

As if on cue, the inmates in surrounding cells began shrieking. A hideous cacophony of laughter, howling, and demented cackling filled the air.

Irvin was already on the walkie-talkie, but Burton didn't hear his voice. Instead, he looked up... up to the grating that had been burned through, iron supports twisted and open.

Lightning came and, reflexively, Burton counted in his head. The thunder rumbled two seconds later, and from the fading light, Burton was able to see something scrawled on the wall. Then it vanished. He moved toward it, his mind still numb.

Lightning and thunder crashed together, and there were the words in blood, Richter's blood, etched on the wall.

THE BAT AND THE CAT MUST DIE

This time, when the inmates screamed, Burton's voice was raised in chorus with them.

 

A/N: In response to the recent news, we like to dedicate this chapter to Batman Forever director Joel Schumacher, who passed away at 80 from cancer. We like to send our condolences to his friends and family during this heartbreaking and difficult time. 

RIP Joel Schumacher. 
29 August 1939-22 June 2020. 

 

Chapter 2: Mid-Air Showdown, The Enigmatic One

The news of Harvey's escape from Arkham had reached Bruce and Selina the next night, and before either of them acknowledged the fact, there had been a report of an incident that took place at the Second National Bank of Gotham. With a knowing nod, they head straight for the cave even before the GCPD illuminated the Batsignal into the sky.

There was nothing Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle can do, but Batman and Catwoman on the other hand was a different matter.

The couple went to the vault to change into their alter-egos. It wasn't long before Bruce had got changed into one of the Batsuits, making his way to the sections where he stored his gadgets as he zipped up the gauntlets and clipped the Utility Belt on. He picked out a couple of Batarangs, grappling guns, a zip-liner, and even a laser cutter.

Selina slipped into the tight, black latex, before putting on the cat-themed cowl over her head, her Catwoman persona emerging from the surface. She picked out her choice of gadgets that she might need for when she and Batman face the usual obstacles. She wrapped her trusty bullwhip around her frame nice and tight, before placing her new items that weren't added to her arsenal when she started it out. A couple of smoke bombs, a few knock pallets, and a pair of taser gloves that Lucius took apart the one she stole from one of the Penguin's goons that held her hostage and placed the circuitry and mechanisms into those gloves. Selina couldn't be more pleased with the final result after testing.

Batman emerged from the vault, his long black cape sweeping around him, his gauntleted arms folded across his sculpted chest. His eyes glimmered from beneath his cowl. Catwoman swayed next to him, placing her hand on her hip, and let out a confident, sideway smirk on her red-painted lips.

Alfred was waiting patiently nearby the Batcomputer to see the costumed couple leave the vault to watch the slowly rotating 360° turntable that held the newly upgraded Batmobile. They stood firmly still on their spots until the turntable came to a complete stop.

Batman was the first to step forward to open the car's hatch to climb behind the wheel.

"Can I persuade you to bring a ham sandwich with you?" suggested Alfred.

"We'll get drive-thru, Alfred." grinned Catwoman cheekily, then followed behind to take the passenger's side of the vehicle.

As soon as the hatch closed, the Batmobile's engine roared to life. With a glow that seemed to emanate from somewhere in the bowels of hell, the Batmobile roared forward. It moved quickly through a series of underground arches, picking up speed. The onboard surveillance systems confirmed that there were no other vehicles in the area, which made sense; Wayne Manor was somewhat isolated, and casual visitors were a rarity.

Moments later, the Batmobile whipped through a holograph of trees that masked the entrance of the Batcave. It screeched out onto the forest road, fallen leaves and dead branches whipping around as the powerful vehicle blew past.

---

The guard's name was Tully.

Once he'd been a cop. He'd walked the streets of Gotham City for 27 years. Spent his entire life as a beat cop. Been shot twice, including one time that had put him on a respirator for a week. Won three meritorious service medals and a commendation. He'd never married, never had kids, and devoted his entire life to the force.

And after those glorious 27 years, his medals and commendations were collecting dust on a shelf at home, and his pension wasn't even beginning to cover his simple, meager living expenses. So he'd taken a job at the Second National Bank of Gotham as a security guard.

They'd assigned him to the twenty-second floor of the bank's office building, guarding the company vault containing billions in negotiable bonds, stocks, and other assets of high-powered corporations. Appropriately, it was his second night on the job when he'd found himself in more trouble than he could ever recall being in during his entire tenure as a cop.

Tully was tied up on the ground, bound at his wrists and ankles. Standing around him were six thugs of varying sizes and shapes, but all of one consistent personality type: nasty. Tully was trying not to look at them, for fear was bubbling furiously inside him and he hated the way it made him feel. Instead, he was staring out the window at the great signal hanging in the sky. A bat illuminated against a low-hanging cloud.

And then the signal was blocked out by the twirling disk of a gleaming silver coin. It passed the signal by and then descended. A hand speared out and snagged it easily.

A man stepped into view. He was standing in profile, looking off to the right. He was rakishly handsome, at least on his good side.

Harvey Dent, former district attorney, once named as Gotham's White Knight, had lived a life that consisted of hardship.

Once upon a time, Harvey was nicknamed "Apollo" by the media due to the fact that he was charming, good-looking, and seemingly untouchable. He was dedicated to his job of upholding law and order and became one of the first supporters, allies, and even friends of Batman and Catwoman.

That all changed on the day of Sal Maroni's trial.

It was thoroughly planned and well thought out, and all the time the people of Gotham were waiting for the day of the trail to come, it was all well-timed for the mob boss to strike him down. Maroni retrieved a hidden flask of acid and threw it right onto Dent's face. Batman and Catwoman became aware of the plot, and ran through the courtroom to save Dent, but arrived too late. The acid splashed against the left side of Dent's face, horribly disfigured it, while the right side was protected by his notepad.

The acid burned far enough through Harvey's head, that part of his brain was damaged and made him psychotic and homicidal. As a child, long before he became a criminal, a second personality was created within the former district attorney, which he dubbed, 'Big Bad Harv'. As a result, the trauma was powerful enough to force two of his personalities to be mixed up and left Harvey in a state where right and wrong no longer held any meaning.

After Harvey's horrific scarring, he became Two-Face, a name that was given to him by GCPD officers, along with several corrupt courthouse officials when he was in the Internal Affairs Division. He soon began his own crusade to bring Maroni down, and even succeeded in killing him in cold blood, much to Batman and Catwoman's dismay. Dent was eventually arrested and committed to Arkham Asylum.

But Harvey was just a name, he'd decided some time back, that only put one side of him on display. That was no longer sufficient. He had needed a moniker that captured his duality so that when people were dealing with him, they'd know all aspects of the man they were doing business with.

The name had somehow come naturally to him.

"Counting on the winged avenger to deliver you from evil, old chum?" asked Two-Face, clutching his coin more tightly. "We most certainly are."

Regrets poured through Tully's mind. All of them centered around the notion that if only he'd encountered Two-Face when he was young. If only he'd been facing the six thugs when he was young. All of it when he was young, instead of a scared old man with a lousy pension and a hearing aid which, at the moment, he would have given anything to be able to turn off.

"Are you gonna kill me?" he asked with a trace of fear in his voice.

Two-Face didn't seem to hear the question at first. He simply continued to stare out into space. But then, quick as a cobra, he was squatting next to the guard. He held the silver dollar under Tully's nose. The clean side winked at him.

"Maybe," grinned Two-Face sadistically. "Maybe not. You could say we're of two minds on the matter. Are you a gambling man? Suppose we flip for it?"

Tully said nothing. It didn't matter. Two-Face was no longer listening.

"One man is born a hero," murmured Two-Face softly to himself. "His brother a coward. Babies starve, politicians grow fat. Holy men are martyred, and junkies grow legion. Why? Why, why, why, why, why? Luck! Blind, stupid, simple, doo-dah, clueless luck! The random toss of the great celestial coin is the only true justice. Triumph or tragedy, joy or sorrow, life or, dare I say..." He turned the coin over, and there was the scarred face of the coin. "...death."

Two-Face looked to the left and the guard tried not to look away. He didn't succeed.

"Death," he repeated, and he flipped the coin.

It twirled in the air and landed directly in front of the guard's face. Tully didn't see what side came up and, to prolong the agony, Two-Face brought his foot down quickly on top of it. He winked down at the sweating guard as if they were old buddies sharing a few laughs over a harmless game.

"What greater thrill? What greater agony? Like the touch of God." He put up a finger, waggling it slightly. "Wait. Wait. Wait. How will justice be served?"

He removed his foot from the coin and the guard forced himself to look at it.

The unblemished head looked back at him.

"Fortune smiles upon you, my friend," Two-Face said gently. "Another day of wine and roses, or in your case, beer and pizza."

The guard sobbed with relief and hated himself all the more for the weakness.

Two-Face snapped his fingers, twice. The thugs converged on the guard. One lifted him up by his bound arms, another by his legs.

"I thought you said you'd let me live!" whined Tully.

"Too true. And so you shall. Nothing better than live bait to trap a bat and a cat." Two-Face smiled maniacally, nodding to the two guards, who carried Tully away to fulfill his function in the former district attorney's scheme.

One of the thugs stepped forward and said with just a hint of annoyance, "Too many witnesses. We shoulda just killed him..."

Two-Face appeared to give the matter a moment's thought, and then he flipped the coin. This time he didn't let it fall, but snatched it out of the air and slapped it onto the back of his hand.

The scarred side was visible.

Before the thug even had time to register the significance of the decision, Two-Face roared. His hand shot out, pinning the thug's throat to the wall.

"You stinking piece of virus-breeding rat droppings," Two-Face snarled, shoving his face into the thug's. "Did you question our coin?"

"Boss..." choked the thug. "You're... you're hurting me." he managed to get out.

"Oh, are we?" Two-Face thrust his face even closer, and the petrified thug felt his foul breath blowing at him. "Look at this face. Look closer! Do you think there's anything on earth we don't know about pain?"

And then he started slapping the thug across the face, each smack punctuating the next four words: "Never. Argue. With. Us! You got it?" he bellowed.

He released his grip on the thug, who promptly sank to the floor.

"Anything you say, boss..." he managed to get out between bleeding lips.

Two-Face nodded approvingly. "Exactly. Excellent response."

He walked away from the thug and stepped over toward the window, taking care not to present a target. Far below him, in the heart of Pan-Asia town, he could see the SWAT teams and police wagons, the spotlights that had been set up, everyone scurrying around as if any of their activities had the slightest meaning or importance to him.

All of it was irrelevant.

Only one being had anything to do with anything and anything to do with him.

"You're all little bugs," he murmured. "We are waiting . . . for the big bug."

---

Outside the bank, there were dozens of witnesses who look to see what was happening on the upper floor where Two-Face were holding the last hostage. Police helicopters were hovering around with spotlight shining on the specific floor where the robbery took place.

A few yards away from the main entrance surrounded by police barriers await upon Batman and Catwoman's arrival, Commissioner Gordon was in the middle of a discussion with a smartly dressed young woman. Blonde, blue eyes, 5'9, late 20s, and she had that professional aura radiating from her.

Doctor Chase Meridian firmly believed that all the stories about how dangerous Gotham City was were just that: stories. This wasn't the Wild West, after all, a place where rules were bent, broken, and tossed out the window, where anyone could do whatever they wanted, and all citizens were on their own.

She had moved to Gotham roughly about a year ago, and living in New York was becoming, in her honest opinion, very boring and dull. She was the one the city's psychologist, a very successful one after she graduated from New York University a few years ago. The job did her favours, it paid her good money, but she was growing bored with the place. She saved up a lot to move to Gotham not only for a chance of scenery, not only as the GCPD's consultant, as well as being a local psychologist, but to meet the duo of Batman & Catwoman.

"How do you know they'll be here?" asked Chase.

Commissioner James Gordon, wishing like hell that his bad heart hadn't forced him to give up smoking, chewed on a breadstick as he surveyed the heavens. The Bat-Signal continued, unblinking.

"They will be." was his reply.

"You don't know for sure," pressed the blonde psychologist. "They could be out of town, or sick. They could be dead. The man and woman behind those masks might have suffered a nice, simple embolism and be lying on a slab somewhere with tags on their toes. Being bigger than life doesn't guarantee a spectacular or heroic death. Look at Lawrence of Arabia."

"I don't get out to movies much," replied Gordon. He swiveled his gaze towards her. "Is there some point to this, Doctor?"

"I'm wondering why you have such unflappable confidence in them? Is it the cape? The mask? That emblem? Even the whip?"

"I don't appreciate the condescension, Doctor."

"My apologies," she said.

"You want to know why I have confidence in them?"

"Yes."

"That's why," he said, pointed towards the Bat-Signal, which was suddenly blocked out by two figures.

Batman gliding down with his extending cape towards the ground, with Catwoman swinging with her bullwhip behind him. They dropped down in front of Chase, face-to-face with her.

The meeting had been a long time coming for her. She had built up a variety of no-nonsense, or various businesslike introductions to make.

"Hot entrance!" she heard a voice that sounded remarkably like her own and, even more astonishingly, passing through her lips.

"Oh my god!" thought Chase, mentally kicking herself at the comment she just said. "Did I really just say that!?"

Catwoman frowned at the doctor's first impression of her boyfriend. She couldn't help but notice right away that Chase was becoming smitten very quickly with him, and she had seen that from women many times since she became Batman's partner-in-crime.

For his part, Batman seemed to have lost interest in her. Actually, that might not have been the case; it was entirely possible that he hadn't any interest in her in the first place, especially when there's a certain feline next to him. He turned his head to the right to notice the annoyed look on Catwoman's masked features. Deciding to leave it for now, all business, he turned to the left to Gordon.

"Two-Face?" asked Batman, straight to the point.

Gordon nodded. "Two guards down, he's holding the third hostage. Didn't see this one coming."

"We should have, though," said Chase, trying to insert herself back into the conversation. "The Second Bank of Gotham."

"On the first-year anniversary of the day we captured him," said Catwoman too quickly. It was hard to tell whether she'd figured it out on the way over or had just realized it now.

Chase had never had any sort of lengthy intercourse with people behind in masks unless one counted that time she'd spent two weeks at hockey training camp dealing with a suicidal goalie. It was disconcerting. All the little things she sought to help her "read" people were utterly absent. It was like staring into a black hole. She pushed gamely forward.

"How could Two-Face resist?" she prompted, outstretching her hand. "I'm Chase Meridian," she introduced.

Batman didn't shake her outstretched hand, neither did Catwoman, who remained tight-lipped. Neither still didn't. Instead, Catwoman was merely staring at her with an instinctive feeling of jealousy in her guts, as if she were some new strain of bacteria, or perhaps a rare animal who'd popped up at a zoo one day.

Cats don't like their turf being invaded, and this Chase person happened to find herself in Catwoman's turf, and she doesn't like it one bit.

Gordon piped up, sounding slightly regretful, "I asked Dr. Meridian to consult on this case. She specializes in..."

"...multiple personalities," Batman interrupted. "Abnormal psychology. I read your work. Insightful." He paused, then added, "Naïve, but insightful."

"I'm flattered," remarked Chase, transfixed at his intelligence. "Not every girl makes a super hero's night table."

Dr. Meridian was the expert, but for all Gordon knew, Batman and Catwoman had similar credentials in civilian life. So Gordon addressed the question to both of them: "Can we reason with him? There are innocent people in there."

Chase shook her head. "Won't do any good. He'll slaughter them without thinking twice."

She didn't seem to be aware of the irony of her comment about "thinking twice."

If Batman or Catwoman noticed it, they chose not to say anything.

"Agreed," said Batman. "A trauma powerful enough to create an alternate personality leaves the victim..."

"...in a world where normal rules of right and wrong no longer apply," Chase picked up.

"Exactly," agreed Batman.

"Like you."

She inclined her head slightly at the correction. "I didn't know that. See? You are interesting. And call me Chase."

Catwoman, feeling threatened over the whole exchange has had enough. She stomped forward in front of Chase with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes, her back facing Batman. If some blonde floozy thinks she was gonna claw her way to her man and outright flirt with him right in front of her no less, she had another thing coming to her.

"Yes, he is interesting, Chase," sneered Catwoman at thepsychologist's name sarcastically, holding her arm out in front of the Dark Knight almost possessively.  "It actually would help if you just keep yourself to yourself and go charm your way to some nearest poor sap!"

This only made Chase curl her lips into a sly grin at the feline's overprotectiveness. She had checked Catwoman's background at the GCPD archives and found herself very fascinated at what she discovered. She heard rumours going on about the shenanigans, sexual shenanigans that involved the costumed couple after every successful mission they did on various rooftops in the means of celebration in very interesting ways. If those rumours were true or not, Chase would like to get confirmation from them.

"I like the sassiness, Kitty Cat," grinned Chase in a husky tone. "That's so you. But nothing beats you getting all hot and bothered from wearing latex all night locking up criminals, as well as defending your man's honour."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded the feline.

"Well, I thought it would help if I would be on top of you, or would you rather have me underneath you when you're done for the night. I'm game." finished the blonde psychologist with a flirtatious wink.

Catwoman's jaw dropped at the unexpected remark towards her. Her anger faded into genuine surprise. She spluttered in response, trying to think of a few words to say, but nothing came out of her mouth. Not only was she was shocked at the fact that this newcomer in front of her had not only flirted with Batman so openly, but she had also used her charms that sent her way too! That wink that Chase gave her had sent the latex-clad woman a blushing mess.

Batman, on the other hand, remained stoic and professional. As much as he loves a good banter, especially with Catwoman, but lives were at stake here. If there were a time and the place for good flirting exchange between his girlfriend and Chase, it was neither here nor now. Gotham's need for help comes first over everything. Harvey had now become a major threat to this city, and it was his sworn duty to put a stop to it.

That was when they heard the crash. A crash that sounded as if the world were exploding, had caused both Batman and Catwoman to turn their attention from Chase, to the building where that ominous sound came from.

"By the way," said Chase, looking up to the building, still grinning. "Do you have a first name, or do I just call you Bats? And can I call you Cats as well, sweetie?"

She looked back to see their reaction, only to find an empty spot where they once stood.

She felt a strange feeling of disappointment in her stomach that her banter with the costumed couple had ended abruptly.

Chase could only hope that this meeting would be a sign of things to come.

---

The building shuddered under the impact, but Two-Face seemed unperturbed.

"Let's start this party with a bang!" shouted Two-Face, as if addressing an audience in an ancient coliseum.

From outside there was a grinding of motors, the whoosh of air, and this time when the wrecking ball struck the building, it didn't merely quiver. Instead, the wall exploded inward, cement and plaster raining down and the massive wreaking ball swinging to within inches of Two-Face.

He didn't even glance at it, instead sanguinely checking his watch. He frowned. Could it be that Batman and Catwoman would let him down, and not be...

From the elevators nearby there was the amazingly ordinary sound of a chime, indicating that one of the cars was heading up to the floor.

Two-Face nodded approvingly. "Punctual, even for their own funerals."

He whirled toward the elevators, his gang members leaping forward with machine guns under their arms. One of them tossed a gun to Two-Face, who caught it easily and aimed at the elevator doors. The entire maneuver, from the signal that alerted them to the clattering of machine guns, took no more than three seconds.

Two-Face chided himself, he would have far preferred it if they had trimmed it to two seconds.

Another chime went off, signaling that the cars had reached the floor.

"Blast them!" ordered Two-Face.

He and his men opened fire. Armour-piercing bullets punched through the heavy metal doors. They fired until the clips were empty, and then Two-Face put up a hand, indicating that they should move forward to see the results of their assault. They walked cautiously toward the elevators, slamming new clips into the weapons as they went.

"Open sesame," murmured Two-Face.

The doors slid open.

The shaft was empty.

Two-Face gaped in confusion. He barely had time to wonder how in God's name Batman had managed to override the controls, forcing the doors open despite the absence of the elevators themselves...

Because the next thing he knew, he saw a black sphere that was dropped onto the floor of the elevator car to release a guff of smoke with a bang. The armed thugs flinched back at the impact, and the smoke fumes had to cover them with a thick layer of smoke.

Before any of the thugs had any idea, they were under attack.

Batman swung down from the middle shaft, feet first, plowing into the thugs and sending them scattering.

Catwoman trailed behind him, sending both her booted feet to the nearest thug to knock him down flat.

He landed cleanly, his hands on his Utility Belt. He pulled two weapons, gripping one in either hand. In the right was a small projectile launcher. He squeezed the trigger and a pellet shot through the air, smacking onto the floor squarely in front of two of the thugs. When it landed it was with a soft, almost disgusting noise, like toothpaste ejected from the tube by having someone smash his fist on it. The crooks were on their feet, but, as it happened, so now were the contents of the pellet. It was a thick super adhesive. It soaked through their shoes, and into the skin of their feet. Before they even realized that their forward motion had been impeded, they'd been brought to a dead halt. They wavered and then pitched back, their arms pinwheeling but unable to stop them.

Catwoman unwrapped her whip from her petite frame, flicked her wrist to send the long leather to wrap it around one thug's neck and drag him to the wall with all her strength. She turned to her left to see two more heading her way. Time for her gymnastics to kick in. One thug charged at her with his fist drawn back, she leaped off her feet to perform a one-turn somersault before he made contact. He turned in time for her to kick him square in the chin with her hands on the floor to perform a series of cartwheels to the second guy. She landed gracefully on her feet, pulled out another black sphere, and lobbed it right at the thug's head to knock him off his feet.

In Batman's left hand, meantime, was a bola. He hurled it with a casual sidearm toss that released its whirling cable. It snaked out and wrapped itself around the upper torso of a third thug, who went down struggling and struck his head so forcefully that he knocked himself cold.

A fourth thug was charging. Batman slugged him once in the stomach, doubling him over, and then twice more in the head. Immediately the thug lapsed into unconsciousness even as a fifth charged. Gripping him firmly by the shoulders, Batman spun him around so that his flying legs crashed into the onrushing thug, sending him sprawling.

Catwoman saw another thug heading straight for her, placed her hands on the floor again to drag her whole body to plant the back of her knees to his shoulders. She shifted her whole weight to flip over the guy, who went sprawling to the floor before her boot knocked his lights out.

She got to her feet to regroup with Batman.

"What is it with goons not taking a hint that they can't win a fair fight?" questioned Catwoman. "Sounds like a typical Wednesday night for us."

Before Batman could answer, a defiant howl of rage alerted the costumed couple as another thug charged down the hall. He had two lethal spike-covered gloves, and he was barreling toward Batman and Catwoman, waving them viciously. The spikes might not have had a tremendous impact on Batman's armor, but on the other hand, one good shot to his chin might take off the lower half of his face.

Batman stood his ground, fists poised, feinting, angling for position. Catwoman did the same, springing out her sharp talons with a hiss, her hands positioning at her sides, correcting her stance.

The gloved felon came at them, lunging toward them and bolstering his own confidence with his banshee-like screams. He thrust his deadly appendages at Batman, who ducked under the charge. Overbalanced as he was, the thug wasn't able to halt his forward motion.

He tripped over Batman's crouched form, only to get scratched in the face by Catwoman, and received a painful electric shock from her tazer gloves that had him fall down flat on his face.

Batman turned just in time to see Two-Face disappearing down a hallway. Without hesitation, he and Catwoman gave chase.

They found themselves in a room with a sizable vault. Two-Face was nowhere to be seen, but they heard frantic noises coming from inside the giant, safe-like room.

Inside, there was Tully, rocking back and forth in hopes of somehow tipping the chair over, perhaps breaking it, and in that way managing to free his bound arms and legs. His gagged mouth was aching from the tape that was across it. He made frantic noises in his throat, trying in some way to warn them off.

Batman and Catwoman stepped into the narrow entranceway to the vault. He either wasn't listening or simply didn't understand. He moved quickly to Tully. Catwoman freeing his hands and tore the tape off his mouth.

"It's a trap!" warned Tully, pain roared through his face.

It was a useful, if somewhat tardy, sentence.

Before Batman or Catwoman could even turn, the safe door slammed shut.

Before the resounding clang of the heavy metal barrier had even begun to fade, the room began to shudder violently. Batman, Catwoman, and Tully were hurled to the floor as the safe jerked forward, starting to move.

"Shit!" cursed Catwoman.

There was the sound of chains outside dragging across the floor.

"We have a problem," stated Batman.

"You think?" grunted Catwoman sarcastically.

---

By the time Gordon's people had gotten to the huge crane that had operated the wrecking ball, all they found was an empty cab.

The monstrous machine had done its work, and the operators—more of Two-Face's people, no doubt—had fled. Gordon banged a car hood in frustration, feeling helpless.

Then he heard something. It was the unmistakable sound of whirling helicopter blades. He looked up toward the twenty-second floor and moved from helplessness to utter shock.

A Blackhawk helicopter had moved into position, a giant winch dangling beneath it. It seemed to be drawing something through the huge hole that the wrecking ball had pounded in the side of the building. After a moment, Gordon was able to make out what it was.

It was the safe from within the bank, dangling hundreds of feet above the ground and being drawn slowly up into the helicopter's cargo hold.

"That Two-Faced son of a bitch," muttered Gordon. "I just hope to God that Batman, Catwoman, and the hostage are safe."

---

Inside the safe, Batman was able to figure out, from the swaying of the vault and the pounding of the whirly blades outside, just exactly what the situation was.

"Why does he want to kill you?!" asked Tully apprehensively.

"We were his friends," replied Batman, scanning the interior of the vault in hopes of finding a way out.

"Do all your friends want to kill you?"

"Only the ones who get to know us," answered Catwoman.

He hadn't spotted any convenient means of exit aside from the locked door. What he had spotted, which he didn't like one bit, were small spigots on the wall. What the hell did they have to do with anything?

"Attention citizens of fair Gotham!" Once again, Two-Face's voice came through the hidden speakers. He let out another maniacal laugh.

"When we open that safe," Two-Face continued. "We'll have all we ever wanted. Enough cash to rain down upon fair Gotham, a glorious flood of chaos! That, of course, you, my boy, dead!"

On cue, there was a loud hissing sound and rising smoke. Acid, a reddish color that had long seared itself into his memory, started pouring out of them from each side of the metal draws. The purpose of the spigots, which Batman had not been able to divine, was quickly made clear.

Remembering what happened at Maroni's trial, Catwoman barely leaped up from the floor and grabbed under Tully's arms to pull him to safety. Tully's eyes widened in frantic fear at the sight of the acid that began to flood the room at an excessive rate.

"Oh no!" yelled a panicked Tully. "It's boiling acid!"

The acid wasn't strong enough to eat through steel, so the money, safely ensconced in steel drawers would be unharmed. But Batman, Catwoman, and Tully weren't in quite as fortunate a position.

"A year ago tonight," Two-Face ranted through the speakers. "You abandoned us to that madhouse! So, happy anniversary! And for your dying pleasure, we're serving the very same acid that made yours truly the men we are today!"

Ignoring Two-Face's prescription for a happy life wasn't too difficult. The acid, however, was more problematic. As the acid spread across the floor, Batman said with remarkable calm, as if he'd been in this particular jam any number of times.

Tully whimpered at the rapidly flooding acid, desperately clinging onto Catwoman for dear life. She and Batman steepled their legs, feet pressing on opposite sides of the wall in front of the safe door. It gave him some elevation, but not much. Acid started to burn at his cape.

"Gimme your hand!" lent Catwoman.

"Don't let go!" whined a whimpering Tully.

The guard, from his precarious perch, wiped the sweat from his face. He yelped when he accidentally knocked off his glasses. They fell into the rising acid and turned molten in no time.

Batman looked around, fighting down desperation, and suddenly his eyes lit on something useful.

"I need to borrow this," he said and grabbed the guard's hearing aid.

"Hey!" protested Tully, his voice going above the octave. "Hey! That's my hearing aid!"

"Thanks."

He focused his concentration, not rushing his way through the soft clicks of the tumblers. It meant that he had to ignore the acid licking at the soles of the boots.

"My shoes are melting!" yelled Tully, his feet sliding frantically from the wall.

Catwoman held onto him for dear life. She looked at the poor guy, who looked like he was about to piss himself. She looked at Batman for a split second, hoping with her fingers crossed that he'll open the damn door before the acid dissolve them into nothing.

"Hurry, Bruce!" yelled Catwoman internally.

The final tumbler clicked into place. Batman threw open the door, grabbed the doorjamb in one hand, the guard in the other, and swung out onto the safe's top just as the hissing acid streamed past below his feet.

The streets of Gotham City spread out far below them, and the wind was vicious as Batman saw that they were almost to the top of the bank tower with Catwoman close behind. Tully was clutching desperately onto the chains from which the safe was dangling, whimpering deep in this throat. Batman held on with one hand, looking around and assessing the situation.

Then he pulled out his wirepoon and fired it into the bank wall. The hook embedded solidly, and Batman quickly attached the trailing end of the cable to the safe with another hook, snapping it into place.

Theoretically, the tensile strength of his cable was sufficient to dangle the Batmobile off the side of the Gotham Bridge. But he'd never had to test it in that manner, and furthermore, he wasn't sure how heavy the safe was. He suspected the cable was sufficient.

He had to because he didn't have very many other options.

He palmed his Utility Belt, and a laser torch snapped into his glove. With his free hand, he reached up and grabbed the chain that was suspending the safe.

"Hang on," said Batman in his usual calm manner.

"What!?" shouted the guard.

Catwoman's eyes widen, immediately picked up what Batman was planning. Without a second's hesitation, she leaped above him to grab onto the chains.

Batman gripped the chain and, using the torch, sliced at the links just below his hand. The safe swung down and away, the cable line drawing taut.

Tully screamed all the way through the experience, screwing his eyes shut tight, holding onto the chain very tightly as he saw his life flash before his eyes.

In a perfect arc, the safe swung back through the hole from which it had emerged mere moments ago. It slid across the floor, skidding with the sound of screeching metal, and slammed into the far wall. Tully sat there for a moment, stunned and confused. And then he had the good grace and intelligence to pass out.

Then, the GCPD came storming into the room with Commissioner Gordon tolling past them to tend to Tully, who was laying passed out on the top of the safe.

"He's okay," announced Gordon to his officers. "He passed out from quite a traumatic experience with that safe. Let's get him to the hospital."

Chase ran into the room right past the GCPD to the hole in the wall to see through it that the departing helicopter was flying over the horizon, hoping that both Batman and Catwoman would make it through the night.

---

Batman and Catwoman, in the meantime, were clambering up the chain toward the open cargo hatch. The yank upwards had been so quick, so violent, that it had knocked the blowtorch out of his hand. But losing a weapon wasn't going to deter him. He was going to rein in Harvey Dent, and nothing was going to stop him.

From within the cockpit, Two-Face stared down in pure fury. If his gaze could burn as fiercely as the acid had, the costumed freaks would have been a blackened corpse before getting halfway up.

"This'll fix 'em!" muttered Two-Face sinisterly.

The pilot started to ask what it was that Two-Face wanted him to do, when Two-Face grabbed the controls away from him, yanked back on the throttle, and sent the chopper shooting straight up into the night sky like a rocket.

Batman held on, never losing his confidence or his nerve. He decided that he was far less of a target with all this maneuvering going on. He allowed the swinging back and forth to continue as he pulled himself up hand over hand.

Catwoman looked down to see her boyfriend holding onto that chain, teeth-gritting at the feeling of being yanked in each sharp turn the chopper made, surprised that her arms weren't ripped out right out of their joints. She had confidence in him like he had his in her, and they will make it out of unescapable situations like they always did in the past, so why should this one be any different.

The helicopter angled toward Gotham Harbor, where a giant sign read "OCU-WASH", with a neon-lit cartoon-style eye at the top of the roof.

"Hang on, Batty!" called Two-Face, gunning the chopper's engines and angled it toward the sign.

"FAAAAAAACE!" cried out the pilot in terror.

Two-Face sent the helicopter roaring downward, the lower half and trailing chain smashing through the sign, ripping it to shreds. It had been a terrible risk; if any part of the chopper had gotten hung up on the sign, the vehicle could easily have been sent spiraling downward toward the choppy water of the harbor. But instead, under Two-Face's steady hand, the Blackhawk moved up toward the dark Gotham sky.

As if he'd totally forgotten about piloting the chopper, Two-Face moved away from the controls so that he could better see out the side. The pilot quickly grabbed control of the chopper as Two-Face made his way over to the cargo hatch.

"Let's see," murmured Two-Face, peering down at the chain and saw exactly what he thought he'd see: nothing.

"YES!" cheered Two-Face with a wide, manic smile on his scarred face. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes oh happy day!"

He leaned back to let out a triumphant, sadistic laugh at the thought of the Bat and the Cat now dead.

"Farewell forever to that pointy-eared, steroid-eating, rubber-suited, cross-dressing night rat and that annoying, latex-wearing little slut he calls a girlfriend!" laughed Two-Face.

The pilot had managed to get the chopper's engine under control when a familiar black cap covered the plexiglass.

"Face!" called the pilot. "Hey, Face!"

Two-Face spun his head to the pilot, who gestured the cape outside with his head. Knowing what that was, he let out a berserk yell. He yanked out his guns and started firing. Bullets went everywhere: through the windshield, through the cape, and, unfortunately, through the pilot. Blood spattered the inside of the windshield. Two-Face didn't care. All that mattered to him was that the cape was gone.

The pilot slumped forward on the stick, sending the chopper into a dive. Two-Face was hurled forward. He smashed into the windshield, which was already riddled with bullet holes. It cracked further under the impact and Two-Face scrambled back so that he wouldn't crash completely through it and be hurled down to the icy water below. He grabbed the pilot's corpse, wrested it from its position, and tossed it aside. Then he clambered into the vacated seat and regained control of the spiraling chopper.

That was when a fist smashed through the side window, tagging Two-Face squarely in the jaw. His head snapped back, crashing into a booted sole that kicked him right onto his temple. His head snapped again into the cushioned wall behind him with enough impact to send stars exploding between his eyes.

Before he can jump out of his seat, he found himself being pushed to the chair by Catwoman, who planted her boot on his chest and swiftly sent the tip of her boot to his chin. She went behind him to lock her arms around his head that looked like to be a chokehold.

Crouched on one of the struts on the outside of the speeding helicopter, Batman hung on.

"You need help, Harvey," said Batman with a single-minded determination. "Give it up!"

Two-Face can only look at him with a sneer crossed the distorted portion of his face.

"We need help?" questioned Two-Face somewhat mockingly. "Looked in the mirror recently?"

Suddenly he brought his feet up, slamming them squarely into Batman's face. He lost his grip, sliding and having to grab onto the lower half of the strut. Two-Face rammed the back of his head, clashing with Catwoman's temple, stunning her.

She let go of her death grip on him, shaking the cobwebs loose from the surprise attack, only then to reel forward to her knees when he rammed his fist to her stomach.

Harvey yanked himself back into the chopper and looked at the course in front of him.

There was the Lady Gotham statue, tall and proud, and recently refurbished, standing proudly in the harbor. Two-Face reached under the seat and pulled out a large iron brace that he used to lock the controls into place, fixing the helicopter on its deadly course.

Clutching onto the underside support strut, Batman hauled himself up, up once more toward the open side of the helicopter. He paused there a moment, bracing himself so that he would be able to move quickly, because sure as hell Harvey would be there waiting for him.

With a thrust of his powerful legs, he shoved himself into the cockpit.

No sign of Harvey.

What he did see were three things: the iron bar holding the chopper steady, Catwoman holding her abdomen in pain, and Harvey Dent poised over the cargo hatch. It was as if he'd been waiting for Batman to show up.

"Have the good taste to die," Two-Face requested in a rather formal tone. "See ya!" And he leaped through the cargo hatch.

Batman moved quickly to the cargo hatch and stared in stunned disbelief as Harvey Dent plummeted toward the dark water below. Then there was a sudden flurry of expanding color, caught in Lady Gotham's lighthouse beam, and a parachute opened over Two-Face. In an additional bit of whimsy, it unfolded into a giant Yin and Yang.

A shadow loomed directly in front of the copter. Lady Gotham was staring in at him.

With no way to alter the chopper's course, Batman went to Catwoman who was still woozy from Harvey's attack and was helped to her feet by her knight in black armour.

"Selina," called Batman. "We have to get out of here quick!"

"Where is he?" questioned Catwoman.

"No time to explain," he answered quickly. "The chopper is heading straight for Lady Gotham!"

"It's what!?" she shouted, his statement cleared her vision, now seeing through the plexiglass that they were indeed heading on a collision course with the statue.

Her green eyes widen in horror, realizing too late to alter course. And then there was no more time as the helicopter smashed into the left side of Lady Gotham's face. Making a split-second decision, Catwoman hurled herself out of the helicopter through the side with Batman trailing behind her as the Blackhawk erupted in a massive fireball, consuming part of the statue's visage and transforming it, in a matter of seconds, into a damaged ugly parody of itself.

Batman had just enough time to curve his body into a diving form, watching for only a second to see Catwoman diving down, and then he split the water. He had to hit it just perfectly. He wouldn't be much good to himself or anyone else with a broken back.

The costumed duo was beneath the water's surface, and to any onlooker, had there been any, it would have seemed impossible that Batman or Catwoman would be resurfacing. Considering the impact with which he'd struck the water. Considering the height he'd plunged from. And his barely conscious condition. And the cold of the water, and its choppiness. And the length of time that he was under.

Impossible.

It was a word with which Batman had only a passing acquaintance.

Catwoman was no better than Batman. If it hadn't been for the protectiveness of the latex material of her suit, she would've been in shock from the water's freezing cold temperature. Her battered, aching body had flared in protest from her fight with Harvey at the chopper. Trusting her instincts that Bruce had taught her, she held her breath and start to kick her legs to swim towards the surface, ignoring the pain.

Batman broke the surface, gasping for air, arms and legs moving desperately to keep himself above water. Within moments he'd steadied himself enough, and then he trod water and looked around the area.

"Selina!" he called out. "Selina!"

"Bruce," Catwoman shouted over a few yards away. "Over here!"

They swam towards each other that took them a couple of seconds before closing the gap between them.

"Are you okay?" asked Batman gently, cupping her masked face.

"Yeah, I'm okay," nodded Catwoman. "Aside from the punch he gave me and a few bruises, I'm fine."

Batman nodded at her, relieved that she had made it out of the chopper. After recovering from their ordeal, they looked up at the ungodly illumination high above them.

"Holy shit..." breathed Catwoman.

Half of Lady Gotham's once-beautiful face was still flaming, a blazing mockery of all of Batman and Catwoman's efforts.

He slapped the water in frustration and then, with a sigh, he and Catwoman began a long, unpleasant swim to shore, as the burning Lady Gotham lit the way.

---

"Despite a valiant effort last night by Batman and Catwoman," announced a newscaster on the radio. "Harvey Two-Face is still at large and extremely dangerous. In other news today, millionaire Bruce Wayne extended his profit-sharing program to the employees of the successful electronics branch of Wayne Enterprises."

---

Bruce was moved to think of Hansel and Gretel, leaving behind a trail of bread crumbs so that they wouldn't get lost. As he toured the electronics division of Wayne Enterprises, he was able to take comfort in the fact that he'd never had to resort to such measures. He'd always have a line of aides and assistants and assistant aides trailing behind him.

Walking slightly ahead of him was Mr. Fred Stickley, the manager. A good man, solid worker, if not always inspired, and even a bit of a fuss budget. Then again, that's the sort of person who could get the job done.

Selina walked beside Bruce with an air of confidence surrounding her, wearing a smart, black business suit complete with a pencil skirt, tights, and black high heels that she knew Bruce would love. Her hair was done in a neat bun, her new thin-framed glasses completed the look.

Being his business partner in the last two years had done a lot of wonders for her. It all started after Shreck's business had been exposed after the incident at the old aquarium, making her realize she had no job to work at. Bruce, being the selfless compassionate man that he was, had offered her a job at Wayne Enterprises to help him further with the supplies and acquired further backing to help other employees with their matching management style, mindset, and technology.

Selina took the job with no problem and was paid an amount that she would never even thought of, unlike the wages that she barely made when she was Shreck's secretary at his now defunded business.

Life couldn't get any better for Selina Kyle.

"A hell of a lot better than being some lowly secretary..." thought Selina with a grin. "Eat that, Shreck!"

"Your inspections are a departmental highlight," said Mr. Stickley.

Bruce laughed lightly. "Really? You all need to get out more," he said in a slightly self-deprecating manner. That, of course, was his prerogative. When you're the boss and powerful, you could take yourself down a peg every now and then, always confident that an employee would laugh and say, "Very amusing, Mr. Wayne."

All the aides laughed, and Stickley said, "Very amusing, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce slowed and stopped next to a mechanized pedestal that was slowly turning. Atop, it was a metal model of a sleek new airplane. Selina eyed up the model with slight interest with an arched eyebrow. She looked at Stickley questioningly.

"We should be further along than this, shouldn't we?" asked Selina.

Mr. Stickley's head bobbed up and down. "The design appears flawless on paper, Miss Kyle. But we can't achieve an antigravity field. The model plane should float but it doesn't."

Bruce lifted the plane and started walking with it, not before Selina had gently took it from his hand with a slightly cheeky smile. He grinned at her return. She turned it over and over in her hands and began making minute adjustments.

"Hmmm," paused Selina mildly puzzled. "Funny. Should work." She paused and then asked, "Anybody try kicking it?"

Everyone laughed.

"Maybe I should do the honour, Miss Kyle?" asked Bruce jokingly.

"I don't think so, Mr. Wayne," grinned Selina, enjoying the banter. "I've seen what you do with something like this. Besides, I think you thank me and Mr. Fox for fixing all the tech provided."

Once again everyone laughed at the amusement. The banter and the flirtation between Bruce and Selina were nothing new, and it was almost a daily thing since the relationship had been made public. Since going through an entire day working endlessly, their jokes had always made their day.

Being the boss had its moments.

---

In his cubicle, Edward Nygma was busily twisting one of the Rubik's cubes. He was murmuring to himself,

"We'll probably be dining at Wayne Manor together," he muttered to himself, envisioned Bruce sitting across from him, and began to launch into a narrative. "Bruce, could you pass the gravy boat? What's that? I forgot you have people who do that, don't you?" He laughed and then in pleased surprise, "Yes. Yes. A party in my honor? I should have rented a tuxedo. What?" he couldn't believe it, "One of yours, Bruce?" He gave it a moment's thought and then shrugged. "Why not? We are the same size."

Then Edward heard something. It was a group heading his way. Chatting and someone would say something, and then they'd all laugh.

"Oh my God, it's him!" he whispered.

Without hesitation, he darted out into the hallway just as the group was approaching from the other direction. Mr. Stickley saw Nygma coming and put a quick hand on Bruce's elbow. Selina had sent Edward a nasty look of her own, not liking the way the creepy fanboy had approached Bruce like that.

"Well, Mr. Wayne," said Mr. Stickley, keeping his tone pleasant despite sending Edward an angry glare.

Bruce turned to Mr. Stickley but suddenly his attention was completely pulled to Edward, who had thrust himself squarely in their path. Edward saw the consternation in Stickley's eyes. Good. Excellent, in fact. Now Stickley was going to see something.

Edward seized Wayne's hand in a viselike grip and started pumping it firmly. Wayne was politely puzzled as he asked, "Mr.?"

"Bruce Wayne. In the flesh," said Edward, still not quite believing that the moment was happening. He was like a raw, open wound, his emotions laid bare.

Mr. Stickley looked as if he were going to have a cerebral hemorrhage.

Selina was more than ready to get her boyfriend as far away from the weirdo as possible. She heard stories

"No. That's me," said Bruce, smiling easily. "And you are?"

At first, Edward didn't realize what Bruce was talking about, and then he ran through his mind what he had just said to Wayne. He winced in chagrin. A classic screwup like that hadn't been part of the plan. But he pressed forward. After all, in the grand scheme of things... in the fabulous, sweeping intertwining destinies of Bruce Wayne and Edward Nygma, such a slip would not even rate a footnote.

"Nygma," Edward introduced. "Edward. Edward Nygma. You hired me personally. Just like I tell everyone."

He saw Bruce's politely puzzled expression and amended, "Well, we've never actually met, but your name was on the hire slip. I have it framed."

Selina was just as puzzled as Bruce, not to mention the way Edward was looking at him with wide eyes, she couldn't help but feel weirded out by his clearly obsessive behavior. She saw that Edward still hadn't let go of Bruce's hand, which he held on far too long for her liking.

"Thank you, Mr. Nygma," said Selina with a hint of annoyance, her demeanor remained professional. "I think Mr. Wayne needs his hand back."

"What?" murmured Edward, his smile almost turned into a frown at Miss Kyle's stern order. "Ah yes. Of course. I'm sorry! It's just that..." He took a deep breath, and looked at Bruce, ignoring Selina. "You're my idol. And some people have been trying to keep us apart."

Selina bit her lip at the offending remark, looking just about anywhere in the room but Nygma.

"Of course you don't want me around my own boyfriend, you creepy little fanboy..." thought Selina darkly.

Bruce looked at Selina, then at Mr. Stickley, who had gone dead white. Still, this fervent fellow clearly had something particular to discuss.

"So, Mr. Nygma, what's on your mind?" asked Bruce politely.

"Precisely!" declared Edward, launching into a spiel that he had been preparing for two months, every day, every night. "What's on all our minds? Brain waves!"

With a determined, yet manic grin, he pushed aside both Mr. Stickley and Selina, who growled at blatant rudeness towards her, acting as if she doesn't exist.

"The future of Wayne Enterprises is brain waves!" grinned Edward before disappearing into his cubicle.

Bruce and Selina turn their heads to each other, his expression showed that of wonder and curiosity, while hers consisted of confusion and a slight hint of suspicion in her eyes.

"Brain waves?" questioned Selina.

"I've no idea what he has in mind, Selina," answered Bruce, "Whatever he said about the future of Wayne Enterprises, that most certainly got my attention."

"Glad that your optimistic about it, Bruce," remarked Selina in a reluctant tone. "But there's just something about this guy doesn't settle in for me."

Holding onto his girlfriend's word, he turned to Mr. Stickley.

"I really do apologize, Mr. Wayne," whispered Mr. Stickley. "I personally terminated his project this morning..."

Edward emerged from his cubicle and whipped out a fancy-looking headgear, and held it up in the air with a wide, Cheshire-cat-like smile on his face as if he had just won an award.

"Voilà!" declared Edward dramatically.

Mr. Stickley couldn't help but facepalm at the sight of it.

Selina clicked her tongue at such a bizarre design of the device. First of all, it kind of looked like a cheap bicycle helmet with a triangular piece that looked more like a futuristic popcorn maker.

"My invention," explained Edward all in a rush. "It beams any TV signal directly into the human brain. By stimulating neurons, manipulating brain waves if you will..."

Selina jerked her head up at this reveal. Hold on a sec, brain manipulation he said? Before she could say anything about it, Bruce stepped forward with a considerate expression.

"...this device makes the audience feel like they're inside the show!" finished Edward, sounding very proud. "Why be brutalized by an uncaring world?"

Bruce took off his glasses and pondered at what Edward had just described his invention. He couldn't help to think about this brain manipulation topic sound very off-putting about the whole thing. Again, that would sound like an old saying back when TV was first invented; If you watch too much TV, it will drain your brain.

He hoped for Gotham's sake, that it was all a bluff.

"Did you say manipulating brain waves?" asked Bruce carefully.

There was a slight pause from Edward, hesitating a little about the subject

"Well," said Edward slowly, squirming a little. "Yes."

The rest of the sentence fell deaf upon Selina's ears, rocking her heels a little of wanting to get further away from this weird fanboy who invented brain manipulation machines, which was something that only someone crazy could come up with, and that person was not to far off. She had to admit, she was somewhat interested in the project he was working on, despite his weird obsession with her boyfriend, but like anyone else with common sense, she had to stop right there.

Brain manipulations, mind readings. Something about the whole thing stinks, and it made her skin crawl with having someone know her every move and thought!

"Fucking eww!" shuddered Selina mentally. "Talk about a literal invasion of privacy!"

She looked out the circular window at the end of the room to take her mind off it, then her eyes widen in recognition.

"Bruce..." whispered Selina, nudging his arm with hers.

Bruce turns his attention to Selina, who nodded towards the window. He looked through, and there was the Batsignal projecting into the sky.

Bruce turns away from the window to face Edward.

"I just need a bit of additional funding for human trials," added Edward. "Let me show you, please!"

Selina shook her head at Bruce, who nodded back at her, understanding to each other that they have no time to going to more details about the fanboy's invention, the sooner the better she's far away from it.

Suddenly it seemed as if Bruce's attention had been drawn away. He blinked, then refocused on Edward.

"Listen, Ed," said Bruce, leading him to the front end of the room where he and Selina came from. "I want a full set of your technical schematics on this, okay?"

"I want you to know," Edward jumped in. "We'll be full partners in this, Bruce. Look at us. Two of a kind!"

"And leave me out of this once again, weirdo..." fumed Selina, finding herself growing to dislike Edward each second.

"You call my assistant, Margaret," Bruce said, darted away once more with Selina tailing behind. "She'll set something up."

Internally panicking, Edward grabbed Bruce's arm to halt him in his tracks. Edward caught the satisfied, even vindictive gleam in Stickley's face. And he became suddenly painfully aware that if Bruce Wayne walked away without Edward Nygma by his side, then that would be it. It would be finished. All these weeks, months... indeed, a lifetime of planning... and it was crumbling under him just like that.

Selina had thought somewhat of a similar manner as Mr. Stickley. Knowing her boyfriend, there was no way Bruce would go ahead with this, certainly not with something that involves someone's mind being messed with, something that Selina thinks that not even Edward could understand the fact.

"Ah, that's not gonna be good enough for me," admitted Edward. "I need an answer now. I think I deserve it."

Edward's head bobbed eagerly, like one of those little baseball player statues with a spring-head. Now, finally, Bruce would understand the depth of Nygma's devotion to his idol. He would see how important he was to Nygma. How he stood for so much that Edward wanted to emulate.

Bruce thought about this very carefully, seeing Edward held his breath waiting for it. Then, he made the final decision.

"I'm sorry, Ed, then the answer's no," answered Bruce simply.

Selina almost snorted in laughter at Edward's reaction. His face was a picture! Nothing tasted sweeter than seeing someone's pride get bruised. For all the lack of awareness around him, as well with Bruce being his idol or so he claims, and from the looks of it right now, he sure had a funny way of showing it.

"Tampering with people's brain waves. Mind manipulation. It just raises too many questions." Bruce commented firmly.

"And don't forget," smirked Selina stepped into the conversation. "The next time you seek Mr. Wayne's approval in any way possible, try and work on something that doesn't involve mind-raping people."

Edward turns his head to Selina, finally acknowledging her presence. He could feel the temperature in the cubicle drop to subzero, and comment she just made add another salt in the wound.

"And get your grubby hand of my boyfriend, fanboy," demanded Selina in a firm tone that has a certain edge to it, as she roughly dislodged Edward's fingers from around Bruce's arm, Nygma made no effort to hold on.

"Factory looks great, folks," Bruce called out. "Keep up the good work."

Bruce and Selina stepped away from the slack-jawed Nygma, headed back towards their ivory tower as Mr. Stickley clapped his hands briskly.

"All right, everyone," ordered Mr. Stickley. "Back to work!" he moved forward, he stopped next to Edward and murmured, "We'll discuss this later."

Edward was paying almost no attention. Instead, he was staring after the retreating form of Bruce and his good for nothing, interfering little girlfriend that claims to be his business partner always gets in the way of plans.

"You were supposed to understand," he said, continuing to stare right through the door. "I'll make you understand," he vowed in a very low and dangerous tone.

Chapter 3: Late Night Games, Riddle Me This

Bruce and Selina marched side by side through the corridors of Wayne Enterprises with a purpose. They stood outside the doors of his private office when Selina placed her hand on his arm in a gentle, yet firm grip.

"Hey Bruce," said Selina. "I'll get the Jag back home. You go on ahead."

"Are you sure, Selina?" asked Bruce.

"Positive," she nodded. "Now get going, I'll be right behind you."

She gave him a quick peck on the lips before she strolled to the other end of the corridor. Bruce watched her go until she disappeared from his view. He then opened the double doors to let himself into his private office.

"Lock," said Bruce briskly.

An electronic lock slammed into place. A bazooka would have been required to get through.

He plopped down into the leather chair and spoke again. "Chair."

And the chair dropped out of sight.

The floor under him had slid back to reveal a hidden transport tunnel. Directly below him was a transport capsule, and the leather chair clicked down smoothly into place. The transport tube ran into a shaft he'd had installed that was nominally for a private elevator. He used the elevator on rare occasions. He used the transport tube, however, far more frequently. And it went a lot further than the bottom of the building.

The capsule rolled forward and then angled sharply downward as it eased into the shaft. It built up speed hurtling down the shaft, holding tightly onto the tracks, and then snapping forward to a normal angle and hurtling underground to a pre-encoded destination. Lights flashed, whipping by at incredible speed.

Inside the capsule, Bruce checked the speed and time readouts and nodded slightly to himself in approval. On the windscreen, a familiar craggy face appeared.

"Alfred," Bruce acknowledged.

"I saw the signal, sir," said the butler. "All is ready."

Alfred was waiting patiently nearby in the vault, when he heard a ping, indicating his young master's arrival. A hidden door slid to reveal the travel capsule, which was rained down by a set of showery sparks.

Bruce stepped out of the capsule, taking his jacket off, and handed it over to Alfred before he picked out one of his Batsuits for the night.

---

The Batmobile glided to a halt several blocks away from the GCPD. It sat there for a moment as if contemplating the darkness, and then the cockpit slid open. Batman and Catwoman eased themselves out, then stepped away from the vehicle.

"Shields," he said and moved away without glancing back as the heavy-duty shields slammed into place, locking down the Batmobile.

He walked to the base of a building, pulled out his grappling hook, and fired it skyward. Seconds later he heard the satisfying clack of metal that indicated the hook had a grip on something. He pulled on it twice to make certain that it was firmly anchored. Catwoman had wrapped her arms around his neck tightly, he automatically held onto her waist, then he pressed the retractor. Instantly they were hoisted skyward, joining the shadows of the city's sky-high spires.

They made their way across the roofs toward the roof of police headquarters. If someone had been watching for them with his eyes peeled and the aid of infrared night goggles, then maybe they might have had a shot at spotting either one of the costumed vigilantes. Other than that, there was no chance.

Batman and Catwoman got within one rooftop of the signal. It appeared to be deserted. That was odd. Odd immediately sharpened his senses.

He stayed to the shadows and studied the rooftop carefully, and as if on near-natural instinct, Catwoman slowly grabbed hold of one of her knockout pallets.

"Okay, something's amiss here," Catwoman wondered to herself.

Then she spotted it. Someone was standing on the other side of the spotlight itself, staring toward the sky. She couldn't quite make it out from where he was, but whoever was over there was taller and slimmer than Gordon.

And, for all she knew, armed.

Catwoman nudged her arm to Batman to let him know what she saw from across. He nodded to her, and like that, he jumped over and she swung herself with her whip behind him

They leaped over to the roof of police headquarters, landing so silently that the unauthorized individual was utterly unaware of it. He moved slowly through the shadows. The rooftop had plenty of gravel on it. It made no sound under his feet.

"Commissioner Gordon?" said Batman in his usual tone.

"He's at home," replied a husky feminine voice.

Batman and Catwoman turned their heads to see where the voice came from. A figure emerged from the shadows to reveal Chase, her hand on her bosom. Her breath came out in the mist through the chill night air.

"I sent the signal," Chase revealed.

"Oh great, her again..." muttered Catwoman mentally, rolling her eyes at the person who she now considered a rival for Batman's affections. She had not forgotten about last night at the foot of the Second National Bank of Gotham before confronting Two-Face, and she wasn't going to let get her to have her way around him again. Not tonight, not any night.

"What's wrong?" asked the Dark Knight.

"Last night at the bank," said Chase. "I noticed something about Dent. His coin. He's obsessed with justice. It's his Achilles' heel. It can be exploited."

Catwoman gently bit her tongue to prevent herself from cursing at the blonde woman in front of her. She couldn't believe it, and neither could Batman. She was telling them nothing new. Hell, she had to know it was nothing new. It was in the case files. She had a feeling that Chase had called them for more than just something the costumed couple already knew.

"You called us here for this?" frowned Catwoman, eyes narrowing at the attractive psychologist. "You should know that the Batsignal is not a beeper. And don't think for a second I've forgotten about your flirtations last night."

To the feline's surprise, Chase didn't back up.

"I wish I could say my interest in you two was purely professional..." breathed Chase in a husky tone.

The latex-clad woman felt a blush forming in her cheeks. The feeling that was becoming familiar to her in every encounter she had with Chase. Her fascination with Batman, which was not entirely new during her time as the caped crusader's partner, the other blonde had sent her charms at her way too, which was something Catwoman has least expected it.

It seems... It seems like she wants them both...

Batman paused a moment, contemplating the best way to handle the situation. She wanted dark, mysterious... All the elements that terrified criminals, that froze thugs in their tracks. These were what attracted her.

"Are you trying to get under my cape, Doctor?" asked Batman, his tone remains unchanged, and stood in a slightly relaxed position.

"A girl cannot live by psychosis alone," she replied.

Which was not exactly the response either Batman or Catwoman hoped for.

"It's the car, right? Chicks love the car." Batman pressed.

Chase giggled at the comment he made, loving where it was going. Then stepped slowly to the left, her eyes not leaving the costumed couple with a slight hint of a triumphant, yet flirtatious grin that formed on her beautiful face. True to her name, she pursued them.

"What is it about the wrong kind of man?" Chase asked wistfully, slowing walking around Batman and Catwoman in a circle. "In grade school, it was guys with earrings. College, motorcycles, and leather jackets. Women, on the other hand, have makeup, earrings, and fashion trends. Now..."

She stopped in front of them to get closed to their personal space. She gently pressed one hand on Batman's sculpted rubber armour and ran one finger between the valley of Catwoman's latex covered breasts. Her eyes glossed with lust, moaning at the contact of the materials on her skin, clearly enjoying this thrilling moment.

"Rubber and latex..." Chase finished huskily.

Catwoman felt her heart race at the bold move the blonde psychologist had just made. She had to admit, she felt a lurch of jealously that formed in her stomach when Chase had decided to openly flirt with Batman in front of her yet again, that feeling soon disappeared when she saw the way Chase was running her finger between her breasts, feeling up her outfit.

The things that this woman was doing to her... The minute she hated her guts for fluttering her eyelashes at her boyfriend in front of her, and whenever she makes the moves on her, along with her unmistakable charm, and after she told them about having a thing about rubber and latex, there was no way she could hate Chase any longer.

It was becoming clear as day that Chase not only has a thing for Batman, she also has a thing for Catwoman too.

Batman, on the other hand, found himself very surprised at this unexpected turn of events. Even though he appeared stoic on the outside, but deep down, he was stunned at the way Chase was doing with Catwoman. Like she was toying with her, as much as she was doing with him.

"Try a fireman. Less to take off," commented Batman, making his way to leave with Catwoman beside him, when Chase stepped in front of them to make them stop.

"I don't mind the work. Pity I can't see behind the mask." grinned Chase, cupping her hands on his masked face, which he gently grabbed hold of her wrists to pull them away.

"We all wear masks, sweetie," said Catwoman, again finding herself surprised at the pet name that formed from her lips.

"My life's an open book. You read?" questioned the blonde psychologist.

He looked at her eyes, at the amusement there, and he dropped the attitude.

"Where do you think this is going to go?" said Batman in a darker tone.

"Depends," said Chase. "Where are you going to take me?"

He took her rather ungently by the wrists. "Are we just another specimen, another lab animal for your maze? Or perhaps you thought of bringing one of us home to meet the folks. In case you haven't noticed, me and Catwoman are not the kind of people who blends in at a family picnic."

Batman turned away from her again until Chase stepped in front of him again.

"We could give it a try," Chase pressed on, brushing her fingertips on his arm, passing them before stepping in front of them yet again. "I'll bring the wine, you bring your scarred psyche."

Chase shrugged her coat off her shoulders, wearing a revealing black dress underneath. She felt the cool October air hitting her skin to feel a slightly pleasant chill down her spine as she looked at the costumed couple with confidence shining in her blue eyes.

Batman remained firmly professional, but with great difficulty. He was fully aware that his girlfriend was standing right next to him, and it wasn't helping at the fact his eyes kept going downwards to her bosom. He fought with every ounce not to just go to her space and kiss her right there and then, but he remained where he was.

Catwoman was facing a similar dilemma as Batman. Her eyes widen at the blonde psychologist's figure. She couldn't believe that Chase has the same taste and fetishes that she has, and not only that, she felt a familiar swirling in her stomach that she tried in her power to deny it had come back full force.

She wasn't willing to admit, even she would be insane to think otherwise, but she couldn't deny that Chase looked incredible in that dress; ravishing even!

Wait! Where did that even come from!? Her green eyes widen at what she thought of Chase.

"No way!" yelled Catwoman in her thoughts. "There's no way I'm feeling something for her! I'm just standing there and let her make eyes at me, and I'm not even fighting it for goodness sakes! There's no way I'm developing feelings for her! Right? Oh god, this was not meant to happen this way!"

"You are direct, aren't you?" Batman commented.

"You like strong women," grinned Chase. "I've done my homework. Or do I need skintight vinyl and a whip like your feline girlfriend next to you?" she added slyly with an arched eyebrow.

Catwoman bit her lip at the comment and sheepishly turned her head in the other direction. She then found herself thinking about the flirty blonde psychologist wearing one of her outfits, and measuring her bullwhip with her tongue in a slow, alluring way. She blushed furiously at the mental image.

"Stop it Chase," moaned Catwoman internally. "You're making me question my sexuality..."

"I haven't had much luck with women before meeting Catwoman," told Batman.

"Maybe you two just haven't met the right woman to keep you in line..."

He wasn't entirely certain how their mouths had drawn as close as they had. But he was suddenly very aware of their proximity, and of her warm breath against him, with Catwoman standing beside him, holding her breath at what she was about to witness.

Their intimate moment soon came to an end when they heard the door slam open. Batman and Catwoman's heads snapped around as they saw Commissioner Gordon ran through the door of the roof entrance. His trenchcoat, flapping in the breeze, couldn't completely conceal the fact that he'd yanked on his pants over pajamas, his flannel pajama shirt peering out.

"I saw the signal," announced Gordon. "What's going on?"

Chase quickly put her coat back on to cover herself up, clicking her tongue in annoyance that her fun with the costumed couple had ended abruptly.

"Always next time..." wondered Chase, smiling that she had Batman and Catwoman's full attention on her.

Gordon looked from one to the other, puzzlement slowly turning into suspicion.

"Nothing," Batman told him, turning back to Chase. "False alarm."

"Are you sure?" asked Chase, grinning.

Neither of the costumed couple didn't even glance back at her as they leaped side by side onto the adjoining roof, the shadows welcoming them back within their embrace. Chase watched them go with a huge smile on her face, watching them disappear into the darkness, finding herself more excited at their next meet up sometime in the not-so-very-distant future.

Batman glided his way back down to the Batmobile with Catwoman swinging behind him with her whip. He pressed a button on his Utility Belt to open the hatch of the car, and landed behind the wheel safely, with the latex-clad woman landed on her butt onto the passenger's side.

He closed the hatch to ponder on what had just happened up there. He was about to think a little deep, when Catwoman jumped onto him, straddling him with her knees on either side of him, and pulled him into a firm, rough kiss.

He kissed her back, opening his mouth to allow her tongue to touch his, turning their kiss into a full-blown makeout session. He grabbed a handful of her latex-clad ass in a not-so-gently way, to which she made a noise that sounded like a cross between a moan and a growl.

She roughly pulled back from the kiss and looked into his steel-blue eyes with a mix of want, love, and command.

"You. Me. Bedroom. Now!" breathed Catwoman in a demanding tone.

Batman grinned at her without saying a word. She got off him to sit back on her seat, and he pressed the control to ignite the Batmobile's engine to take them back home at a moment's notice.

---

Meanwhile, around the same time at Wayne Enterprises, Edward Nygma hunched over his device, working at a fever pitch. He made a few minor adjustments to his invention and moved out of the way of a spark that shot out of the machine.

"Okay," muttered Edward in a determined voice. "Now, I've got it! A-ha!"

His hands moved in a deft, almost-delicate manner. His concentration was complete, the only indication of its intensity being the sweat that beaded his forehead... and the steady stream of muttering.

"Too many questions," mocked Edward, still angered at what his supposed idol had told him earlier tonight. "There's too many questions. There's too many... I'll show you how it works!"

He pointed his tool in a threatening manner at a magazine cover of Bruce on the front. Suddenly, a booming officious voice that sounded like a cross between a foghorn and a Rottweiler that nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"What the hell is going on here!?" barked Mr. Stickley, entering the cubicle to point his accusing finger at Edward. "I told you this project is terminated! I'm calling security!"

Mr. Stickley turned his back to Edward, leaving the cubicle with the quivering scientist in his wake. Edward, not putting up with any of this shit anymore, he got hold of the coffeepot and made two meters behind Mr. Stickley before he brought the thing crashing down to the back of his head with a resounding clang.

Stickley went down without a sound, rendering unconscious.

"Caffeine'll kill ya!" informed Edward.

---

Half an hour later, Edward had made final preparations to his test out his invention, and look over Mr. Stickley, who was still knocked out.

He reached his hand out and pulled a single hair from his mustache that somehow made his eyes snap open, quickly regaining consciousness.

"Rise and shine, little guinea pig," whispered Edward in a somewhat creepily.

When Mr. Stickley became aware of his surroundings, he wasn't sure where he was at first. He tried to piece together what had happened, tracing for himself the sequence of events that had resulted in his discovery that he was strapped to a rolling swivel chair.

He felt a dull ache in his head and a further pain in his neck when he tried to look around.

Then he became aware that there was something balanced on his head. He nodded back and forth, trying to shake it off. It felt like a hat or...

There were wires trailing from whatever It was. Wires to a machine, and now enough of his confusion fell away so that he was able to perceive Edward Nygma wearing a similar rig on his own head, making what appeared to be some final adjustments.

"What are you doing, Nygma?" demanded Stickley. "Untie me!"

"This won't hurt a bit," Edward said to his boss. "At least I don't think it will."

Nygma did turn to him then and flashed a brief, if slightly pained grin, as he reached over toward a toggle on the power source.

"What are you doing?" bellowed Mr. Stickley. "Nygma, you touch that switch and-"

"Which one? This?"

He flipped a switch.

The TV screen flared to life, and a green glow emanated from it. And hovering there, in the glow, was a holographic representation of Stickley reeling in a prize bass. Then the figures began to waver and tremble.

"Losing resolution," muttered Edward to himself. "More power."

He threw a second switch, and immediately warning lights flared to life. But the lead time between the warning and the opportunity to shut down was way, way too short. A bolt of green lightning that illuminated the entire cubicle had lanced out from Stickley's headband and onto the TV. The systems, both in the circuitry and in Stickley's own neural pathways, overloaded, and the feedback smashed back into the machine and terminated in Edward's own headband.

If Stickley had been at all aware at this point of what was happening, he would have taken some small measure of rejoicing in the fact that Nygma was screaming as loudly as he was.

But he was not aware of what was happening. Indeed, one look at his glazed, slack expression made it quite clear that he was not aware of anything at all.

But a look into Nygma's eyes would have told the exact opposite. He looked invigorated, even reborn. The normal glimmer of twisted genius had been accelerated by somewhere around a factor of a hundred.

It was as if his brain had been blown in an infinite number of directions all at once, and was now hurriedly reassembling itself. And from that reassembly came different impulses, different thoughts, a scattergun of personalities and notions, people that Nygma and/or Stickley had met, or hated, or loved, or had made an impression on him at all—all of them bubbling to the surface, struggling for their moment, fighting for dominance.

"Edward Nygma, come on down!" barked Edward, sounding much like the host of a game show Edward had enjoyed in his youth. "You're the next contestant on Brain Drain! I'll take what's inside thick skull number one. What have we got for him, Johnny?"

Then for a moment, the emcee eased back and Edward's own personality, what there was of it, at any rate... came roaring back to the surface, speaking so quickly that it would have been impossible for anyone overhearing to understand a single thing he was saying.

"Stickley, I've had a breakthrough!" blabbered Edward, his mind on severe overdrive. "And a breakdown? MAYBE! Nevertheless. I'm smarter. I'm a genius. No, several geniuses. A gaggle. A swarm. A flock of freaking Freuds!"

Edward's mind flared once more, and suddenly he was the short-order cook at the greasy spoon Stickley occasionally stopped by for breakfast on the way to work. Thinking of Wayne grounded him just slightly, and he looked at the slack-jawed Stickley.

"Riddle me this, Fred," grinned Edward. "What is everything to someone and nothing to everyone else? Your mind, baby! And now mine pumps with the power of yours!"

He flashed onto a movie musical that Stickley had fallen asleep watching three weeks ago and, to the tune of Top Hat, White Tie and Tails.

"I'm sucking up your IQ," sang Edward. "Vacuuming your cortex, feeding off your brain!"

And when Stickley had woken up, a British comedy of manners was on.

Edward then switched into a somewhat over-the-top, yet impressive foot dance, waving one arm about and another, even thrusting his crotch dramatically.

"FRED!" he yelled suddenly.

Edward sensed that his mind was starting to peel away completely and, with what little control he had left, he reached over and shut off the machine. The light flickered and died and, with a sigh as if having just physically separated from a lover.

Stickley, on the other hand, had come to again as if he had just woke up from an interesting, yet very intense dream. His vision cleared when he saw Edward leaning back heavily against his machine.

"What a rush!" Nygma murmured loudly, leaving a fading echo.

"What the hell just happened?" questioned Stickley.

"A very surprising side-effect," smiled Edward gleefully, taking off his headgear. "While you were mesmerized by my 3D TV, I utilized your neural energy to grow smarter."

It took Stickley a few moments to truly comprehend what it was that Edward Nygma was telling him. Nygma had been what? Puttering around in his brain? Sucking away neural energy? It was... it was like some sort of mind rape.

"Bruce Wayne was right!" growled Stickley, making no attempt to restrain his fury. "You demented, bizarre, unethical toad! It is brain manipulation!"

Edward looked proudly at the headgear and kissed it tenderly, not listening to any of Stickley's obscenities as he put the device away.

"I'm reporting you to the FCC," threatened Stickley. "The Human Experimentation Board, the AMA, the police, the federal government! You're going up on charges! To court, to jail, and then to a mental institution for the rest of your twisted little life!"

Edward then took extra pleasure in his boss' rants with his childish antics as being shit-your-pants scared, openly mocking his threats, as he dragged the chair that Stickley was still tied up in out of the cubicle and right in the middle of the room.

"But first and foremost, Nygma, you are fired! Do you hear me? FIRED!!!" roared Stickley.

Edward stopped what he was doing to look at his soon-to-be former boss. The temperature of the room had changed drastically, and Stickley now felt cold under Nygma's intense gaze.

"I don't think so," said Edward with a demented glee, pushing the chair to which Stickley was tied with both hands.

The chair rolled back across the slick floor at high speed. Stickley saw the danger drawling close with each growing second, starting to yell in panic. The chair was getting closer with each passing second until he smashed through the large round window at the end of the corridor.

Edward shrieked at what transpired had charged up to him, terror and concern on his face.

"Hang on!" yelled a panic-struck Edward.

Clearly, he had not meant for this to happen, and the potential ramifications for the near fatality had...

The chair was teetering on the edge, glass plummeting down and away. Only one thing was keeping him from tumbling off the precipice, and that was the long wire attached to his headband.

Then he leaned in close, gripping the wired headband, and relief had washed over Stickley's face.

"Fred. Babe! You are fired," said Edward with a twisted sneer of contempt, and Stickley's face had turned pale at the meaning behind those words. "Or should I say: terminated."

He yanked the headband off Stickley, and his former boss's only means of support was gone. He barely had time to utter a screech before the chair tilted forwards and out, plummeting to the ground far below.

"SURF'S UP, BIG KAHUNA!" yelled Edward joyously, watching his former boss disappearing below with a thunderous splash. "Ooooooh, nice form, but a little rough on the landing. You may have to settle for the bronze."

He let out an insane laugh of triumph. However, his joy had turned into rage at the thought of Wayne putting the project down, as well as Kyle's belittling comments towards him.

"Questions, Mr. Wayne?" sneered Edward, stomping back to his cubicle. "My work raises too many questions?"

He looked around the place, and then his gaze turned to focus on a surveillance camera up on the wall. He climbed up the step to reach the lens. It was not being monitored, Edward knew, but it had dutifully recorded everything that had happened.

"Why hasn't anybody put you in your place?" muttered Edward to the camera, placing the palm of his hand to cover the lens before the transmission was cut off.

---

The next morning at Wayne Manor, Bruce and Selina were sitting on the couch in front of the TV after they got back from their morning workout. Bruce leaned back with a towel around his neck, with Selina resting her head on his shoulder as they were watching the GTV News, showing footage of the Sal Maroni trail with Harvey Dent on the front, just minutes before the horrific accident.

"Harvey Dent," reported the newsreader on TV. "Former district attorney, and once named as Gotham's White Knight was horribly scarred by underworld kingpin, Sal Maroni. Although Batman and Catwoman tried to save him, Dent's left-brain damage transformed him into a violent criminal. Dent, who blames Batman and Catwoman for the accident, has vowed to destroy the masked vigilantes. Harvey Two-Face is extremely dangerous. Repeat, extremely dangerous."

Bruce looked down at the floor and sighed, his mind flooded back to that day. Selina looked up to him to see him not looking at the TV, and immediately knew what he was thinking. She quietly slipped her hand onto his to remind him that he wasn't to blame for what had happened. Over the years, he had kept his emotions well in check years after his parent's deaths, as well his time as Batman, but Selina knew better every time he was on the downer.

Every day, he carried that guilt from the accident, blaming himself for arriving too late. how everything up to this point would've been a lot different had he and Selina had saved him from the acid attack that shook Gotham. A hundred, a thousand times since then, his mind had replayed that moment.

"Hey! Dent! Cross-examine this!"

Bruce could still hear Maroni's voice replaying in his head. It happened so fast, he had barely wrapped his mind at what transpired that day.

If Harvey had just stepped back or ducked, or anything...

But he stood bolt still, surprised, a deer in the headlights, as the vial's contents splashed all over the left side of his face.

The vial would have wound up as glass shards, its contents bubbling away viciously but harmlessly on the courtroom floor, it would have been a simple charge of attempted assault tacked onto the lengthy criminal indictments already facing him, and that would have been that.

There were certain sounds that Bruce would always carry with him. Sounds like his parents' screams, or the tinkling of his mother's broken pearl necklace falling to the ground.

The flapping of wings and the screech of bats, although somehow the memories of the circumstances themselves were somewhat blurred.

Even the crack of his girlfriend's whip.

A couple of other sounds, and now this. This hideous, unspeakable moment and he would never forget the sound of the acid bubbling and burning and eating away at Harvey's face. Harvey's scream was almost secondary, as had been the panicked cries of other people in the courtroom. He'd heard screams before, and certainly enough sounds of a confused and shouting mob. But he'd never, before or since, heard the sound of flesh just being eaten away.

That night he'd come to the hospital as Batman. It seemed to him that Harvey was beyond pain. Instead, Harvey was looking up at him with his one good eye, and there was something in there, a look of hate, betrayal, and anger.

Batman knew that look all too well. It was the look on his face every night when he slid the mask down that covered his features.

It was disturbing to see it turned back at him. Disturbing and something that boded ill for the future.

After all that time that had lead to the former district attorney's downfall, in a way, Bruce felt responsible for Harvey's murderous crusade.

His mind drifted onto the night 2 years ago where Harvey had left Gotham to attend to his family after he received an unexpected emergency phone call, which was something that he couldn't ignore. He had to leave his duties to spend a lot of time with them, therefore he missed out on a lot that had happened in his absence. When he returned after the New Year, Bruce had filled him in on what he had missed, like the Penguin's mayoral campaign, Catwoman's arrival, Batman's framing, and of course, he wouldn't leave out Max Shreck's shady business dealings and his cover-ups.

The phone rang, and to Bruce, it seemed as loud as a cannon barrage for his liking. Selina groaned in annoyance at the sound, burying her head further onto her boyfriend's shoulder in a futile attempt to drown the sound out. He started slightly as Alfred picked up the phone.

"Wayne Manor," He listened for a moment and then turned to the tired couple. "It's Commissioner Gordon. There's been an accident at Wayne Enterprises."

Everything came to a standstill at the news. Bruce remained firmly on his seat, almost frozen stiff at what his old friend had told him. Selina sprung her head from Bruce's shoulders to look at Alfred with wide eyes, and somewhere in her guts like she was sensing some kind of déjà vu in her mind.

"What!?" exclaimed Selina.

---

The instinctive feeling had not once left Selina when she and Bruce arrived at Wayne Enterprises to survey the damage of the window, which was covered up with sheets of plastic and was barricaded by the police. She stood next to Bruce, who was in the middle of an intense conversation with Commissioner Gordon. The three then moved away from the window.

"Horrible way to die," admitted Bruce.

"Yes," nodded Gordon.

"The video surveillance cameras are down here," directed Bruce.

"Good," said Gordon. "We'll dredge the river, but with that current, I doubt we'll ever find the body."

Bruce, Selina, and Gordon walked down the other end of the room.

They walked past the cubicle that belonged to a visibly distraught Edward Nymga. He leaned against the outside of his cubicle, sobbing profusely onto the shoulder of the head of personnel. He was not quite sure what to make of this display of grief.

"Why? Oh, why?" moaned Edward inconsolably. "I can't believe it. Two years working in the same office. He was like my father, my brother, or a cousin that visits all the time..."

"Get a grip, Edward." advised the head personnel, handing out a tissue to a sobbing Edward.

Then Edward stopped crying for just long enough to clarify, holding out a note in his hand.

"I found this in my cubicle. You'll find the handwriting matches his exactly, as does his sentence structure and spelling," he added in a perfectly rational voice before breaking down once more. "I couldn't possibly continue on here. The memories. I'll get my things."

He ducked quickly into his cubicle, where he'd already boxed up his invention. The man in personnel used the opportunity to slip away.

---

Bruce, Selina, and Gordon stood in front of the security console.

"This is last night's security log," said Bruce, switching on the monitor to study the recorded footage from the night before. "There's Stickley."

In the video, the image was in clear black and white, and Stickley was visible in the empty room. He looked like he was walking at first, and then came charging towards the window with his arms out. The sound of his sobbing was audible, as does the shattered glass that was followed by his deathly scream which faded down below.

Selina turned her head away from the footage with her eyes closed, not willing to watch any more of it, as memories she would rather forget slowly start to bubble beneath the surface.

"Pretty cut and dry," commented Gordon.

The head of personnel entered the room and handed Bruce what appeared to be a suicide letter.

To: Whom It May Concern

From: Fred Stickley

RE: My Suicide

GOODBYE

CRUEL

WORLD!

Yours truly.

Bruce handed it over to Selina, who took it to read it for herself before passing it over to Gordon.

"Yep, definitely suicide," concluded Gordon. "Thanks very much for your help, Bruce. We'll be in touch."

Gordon shook hands with Bruce, then with Selina briskly before he and the GCPD depart, leaving the couple alone with their thoughts.

---

Moments later, the couple was walking up the corridor to the reception as Margaret, Bruce's assistant was following them in, scribbling notes furiously.

"Stickley's suicide doesn't make sense," said Bruce in an incredulous manner.

"I agree with you on that one, Bruce," added Selina. "Something about this sounds kinda fishy to me. Besides, we need to get in touch with his family, as we want full benefits for them."

"Suicide's not covered by our corporate insurance policy," stated Margaret.

"I know. Full benefits," said Bruce.

Margaret nodded. There was no point in arguing, and besides, she had no intention of trying to act the heavy in this instance. Taking the opportunity to attend to unfinished business, she flipped to a different page in her notebooks.

"Gossip Gerty has called a record 32 times," said Margaret. "She said if you're gonna take Miss Kyle to the charity circus."

Selina rolled her eyes at what she told them. Before either she or Bruce even comment on the subject of how Gerty was sticking her nose into their relationship about a thousand times, they notice an envelope on the desk. It was black, and it had a bright green question mark inlayed on the front.

"What's this?" asked Bruce.

"I don't know," answered Margaret, genuinely puzzled. "I didn't see anyone."

Selina picked it up from the desk to hand it over to Bruce. He opened it, and the first thing that saw was a pop-up book that appeared to be homemade, and it had a cut-out photo of Bruce with a green arrow pointing up at the top of the head. He pulled the head as instructed, and from what Selina saw that nearly made her eyes widen in astoundment, and somewhat perplexed, a photo of Bruce made him look comical. It's noticeable bog eyes, and wide open-mouth and the pop-up even added a cartoonish long tongue that looked like it was written with letters that were cut from old newspapers and stuck them on with glue.

"If you look at the numbers upon my face, you won't find 13 anyplace." read Bruce.

"Say what?" Margaret wasn't sure what she'd been expecting inside the envelope, but it certainly hadn't been that.

Bruce turned the paper over, but there was no signature. He looked back at the message.

"It's a riddle," realized Bruce. "Numbers on my face, 13."

Selina took the pop-up message between her index and middle fingers to read what it actually means.

"One through 12," muttered Selina before giving out the answer. "The clock is the answer."

"Who would send you a riddle?" asked Margaret, scratching her head.

"That, Maggie, is the riddle," said Bruce wonderingly.

With one bizarre thing after another, Selina felt a migraine forming in her head, closing her eyes, and running her hand on her forehead to relieve the pain. Like, what is going on? Had she took some crazy pills this morning? First, there was an accident here, then finding out that Stickley had killed himself, which didn't even make any sense in the slightest! Like why would anyone commit suicide out of the blue just like that when Stickley was happy going on with his life and his job the last time she saw him and showed no sign of any suicidal tendencies. Now, there was someone out there sending letters, or riddles rather, to Bruce.

Something is definitely amiss here.

Couldn't this day get any weirder?

---

In downtown Gotham, Edward unlocked the door to his apartment with his key. He walked through and clapped his hands twice to light up the room.

The apartment inside was small and somewhat cramped, but it was filled with all kinds of things. There was a little desk that had all kinds of gadgetry and electronic equipment laying about along with Rubik's cubes, assorted games, dozens of puzzle books. The wall in front of the desk has various photos, magazine covers, and newspaper articles relating to Bruce Wayne.

Right next to a stack of miniature TV monitors that were hooked up altogether, was a fully functional animatronic dummy in a glass display case that were usually seen in fairs. The dummy appeared to be wearing a green suit with black question marks all over it, complete with a matching bowl hat. It was grinning maniacally, and the arm of the dummy was slowly moving left and right back and forth to point a green light bulb with a question mark labeled on the front that was followed by an electronic sound effect, then to a red one that said 'NO', added with a sound that someone had failed a game or something.

Edward stepped in front of the animatronic which he named "The Guesser."

"Guess what I did today?" told Edward to the dummy as if it were a person.

Then Edward got to work on making something like an arts and crafts project, cutting out letters and specific words to glue them together to create a fancy, yet bizarre letter with a certain millionaire in mind.

The dummy made an electronic maddening laugh.

---

It was late into the night and Edward made his way through a forest area with his bicycle and slowly came to a stop in front of the iron gates. He looked overhead to see the stately home of Wayne Manor in its impressive glory.

"Wayne Manor," said Edward scornfully with a hint of jealously in his voice. "Hmph!"

Edward reached his arm to take out the letter from the basket that was attached to the front of his bike. The latter was bright green with a black question mark on the front, as he stuck it on the bars of the gate.

"See you soon," whispered Edward, waving at the mansion before he departed the area, leaving the letter in his wake.

---

Bruce Wayne drove his gleaming red Jag into the municipal police complex with Selina Kyle at the front seat, the guard recognizing them and waving them through immediately. He pulled into a spot, made a mental note of a car parked. He climbed out and walking into the GCPD building, taking Selina's hand as they walk into the main reception hall where one officer was doing his paperwork on the desk.

"Dr. Meridian, please," asked Bruce politely, the officer pointing to the right was his answer. "Thank you." The couple made their way upstairs.

Dr. Meridian was a fairly new arrival to Gotham City, and Gordon had rather graciously afforded her office space at the police complex. In return, she made herself available several days a week to consult with Gordon and other police officers on various investigations. Her private practice was just starting up, but knowing what a major supporter of the police the Wayne Foundation had always been, she had agreed to make time for him.

The couple walked briskly down the hallway, Bruce turned to Selina, who had an unreadable expression on her face that seemed to catch his attention.

"I don't see the reason why we have to see Chase?" asked Selina.

"Well, I want to see what she makes of this person who sent me those letters," stated Bruce.

"I don't know, Bruce. It's just..." paused Selina before sighing. "I'm not sure what to make of her."

"What's the matter? Jealous?" he grinned with a raised eyebrow.

"Me? Jealous?" scuffed Selina, rolling her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I mean, what if she comes between us? After everything we've been through together 2 years ago. After Shreck and the Penguin, I don't want everything we have to just disappear."

"Nothing will come between us, Selina," assured Bruce. "Besides, from the way I've seen her, it looks like I'm not the only one she's making eyes at." he finished with an amused grin.

Memories from last night at the roof had sent Selina blushing. She tried to give him a disapproving glare, only to fail when she looked away embarrassed.

"Low blow, Mr. Wayne. Low blow..." groaned Selina.

Before they could get any further as they approached the office, they heard grunts and the sounds of combat from within. They heard Chase cry out, and there was the sound of a vicious punch being landed.

Bruce and Selina turn their heads to each other, instinctiveness took over their beings as they rushed to the door. Quickly he tried the doorknob, but it was locked tight.

Without hesitation or regard to his secret identity, Bruce rammed his shoulder to open the door. The lock and knob flew off, clattering to the floor, and the door banged inward. He and Selina ran though, ready for combat, then skidded to a halt at what they did not expect.

Chase's hair was a bit matted and hanging down. Her fists were taped up and poised in front of the punching bag that she had been whaling into until Bruce and Selina had charged into her office.

There was a long moment of tension that didn't seem to arise from stress but from something else entirely. To Selina, the air surrounding them gave her a sense of awkwardness.

"I guess we're early. We have an appointment," uttered Bruce, trying to act as casual as he possibly could. "I'm Bruce Wayne."

"I'm Selina Kyle," she introduced with an awkward wave and a sheepish smile.

"Oh good," breathed Chase, annoyance building up in her system. "Then you can afford me a new door."

"I... Sorry," stammered Bruce uncharacteristically, picking up the collapsed door with both hands and placed it back at a slightly odd angle, as Selina placed both her hands in her face to hide her scrunched up embarrassed look at this slightly misunderstanding situation that he got them into.

Definitely not the way to make a first impression meeting her as themselves.

"I thought you were," said the millionaire sheepishly. "You know, trouble."

Chase shook her head at his stammering, clearly unamused by all of this.

"I prefer healthy expressions of violence as opposed to breaking and entering," she commented.

Selina then got over her embarrassment before going up to Bruce to swat him on the back of his shoulder in a not-so-gentle way.

"What was that for?" asked Bruce, rubbing the spot where she slapped.

"Don't you ever think before jumping into action?" scolded Selina. "Might as well go about and charge into the fray without thinking and ask questions later!"

Chase's anger about the break-in was soon forgotten about, as she watched the couple bicker to each other with an amused look on her face. She had seen them flirt through news tabloids and on TV, and it was no secret why the press had called them Gotham's Golden Couple, and felt a slight bit of resentment, wishing she were in Selina's shoes.

"You know," Chase butted in after a moment, breaking the couple's mini argument. "As much it's fun seeing you two act like a married couple, I think you two forgot the real reason why you're here."

"Oh yes," Bruce, shaking Chase's hand with Selina doing the same before he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out the two riddles. "Somebody's been sending me love letters. One at my office, one at home. Commissioner Gordon thought you might give me your expert opinion."

Chase reached to take one from Bruce to read the one he received in his office last night.

"A clock," said Chase.

"A clock." nodded Selina.

They looked at each other before Chase opens the second riddle to see yet another photo of Bruce with another question made out of letters from old newspapers.

"Tear one off and scratch my head," read Chase, pulling down the arrow to show what looked like a green x-ray of a skull in place of Bruce's head. "What once was red is black instead?"

"A match," indicated Bruce.

She nodded absently and continued to study the riddles, looking for some further clue or indicator of the author's mindset. The first one seemed as if it had been done hurriedly, but the second was far more elaborate. Letters were trimmed out of newspaper and magazine headlines, and there was also bizarre calligraphy around the edges. Question marks snaking in and out of everywhere. And, most disturbing, a border composed of dripping daggers.

Selina, in her honest opinion, thought these riddles were slowly getting more baffling and bizarre each time. Whoever sent those riddle to Bruce, obviously have an obsession or a grudge against him. Then again, this is Gotham City after all where all the crooks gave the law and order a huge middle finger and almost seemingly get away with it. Of course, there are people out there who are against him, not just as Batman, but himself as well.

"My opinion," observed Chase. "This letter writer is a total wacko."

"Wacko?" repeated Selina with a hint of amusement. "Is that a technical term?"

"Patient may suffer from obsessional syndrome with potential homicidal tendencies," told the blonde psychologist. "Work better for you?"

"So what you're saying is that this guy's a total wacko, right?" asked Bruce.

"Exactly." smiled Chase just slightly. "He's obsessed with you. His only escape to maybe purge the fixation."

Bruce moved two meters, folding his arms at what he thought was the only answer. First Two-Face, and now it's this person who sends out bizarre riddles.

"To kill me," he concluded.

"I think you understand obsession better than you let on," grinned Chase.

"Trust me, Doctor," Selina finally said. "It's not the first time Bruce has dealt with obsessive guys. I'm sure it's not the last either."

"When you're dating a philanthropist, Miss Kyle, there will be followers and admirers with obsessive tendencies," Chase said, unwrapping the tape from her hands and putting the boxing gloves in her bag.

Selina sighed, not surprised at the answer. She walked over to Bruce's side to wrap her arm around his waist. Then they saw a framed print of a bat on the wall. This struck them as rather odd. It wasn't the sort of thing one ordinarily would stumble over in an office, particularly a shrink's. But there indeed it was, black and with its wings spread wide.

"You have a thing for bats?" said Bruce, pointing at it.

From her expression, it was clear that she hadn't a clue as to what he was talking about, but Selina knew better. Chase turned to see where Bruce was pointing, and when she looked back at him it was with that unmistakable air of clinical interest in her eyes.

"That's a Rorschach, Mr. Wayne" pointed Chase, putting on her hoodie to warm herself. "An inkblot. People see what they want. I think the question would be, do you have a thing for bats?"

Selina bit her lip at the simple, yet interesting question.

"Again, it's your fascination with us as Batman and Catwoman..." thought Selina. "I must admit, she really knows what she's capable of her job, and I have to say, there's more to Chase than she meets the eye, despite the rocky start I had with her as Catwoman..."

Bruce chose not to answer as he picked up a small wicker totem doll from the table.

"Still playing with dolls, Doctor?" questioned Bruce.

"She's a Malaysian dream warden," revealed Chase. "Some cultures believe it protects you from bad dreams. Silly to you both, I'm sure."

Bruce's mind was elsewhere the longer he stared into it. He had been having some nightmares as of late, nightmares involving the night of his parent's deaths when he was a child, and the years he had to endure growing up without them.

Selina too was looking into it, as memories of that certain, traumatizing night almost emerged from the surface with a vengeance.

Shreck came forward and pushed her out the window screaming as she plummeted into the darkness and swirling snow falling through three awnings slowing her fall but couldn't delay the inevitable as she hit the snowy ground beneath her.

Help me...

Someone... Please help me...

Selina closed her eyes as if she were reliving the night where Shreck had pushed her out of the window. She can still remember the cold, snowy ground hitting her back, and yesterday morning after watching the security footage of Stickley jumping out of the window has almost brought her back to that night. It wasn't up until now when she laid eyes on that creepy doll.

Please... Help me... Batman...please...

Miss Kitty...

Chase saw the expressions on the couple. Somewhere within her, her little inner psychiatrist had wanted to ask them, but the looks on Bruce and Selina's faces told her otherwise.

"You look so sad. Do you need one?" mentioned Chase.

"Me?" Bruce laughed easily, putting the doll back. He was clearly rather practiced at masking his feelings. "No. Why would I?"

Selina shook her head out of her depressing thoughts, sent a smile at Chase.

"Well, we're okay. Why exactly would we be upset over?" commented Selina.

Chase made a thrust forward, a probing question. "You two are not exactly what you seem, are you? What is it you really came here for?"

They wanted to answer her. That much she could easily see. But instead, Bruce coolly looked at his watch and said, "Oops. Time's up."

"That's usually my line." grinned Chase.

"Look, I'd love to keep chatting..." murmured Selina.

"Would you, Miss Kyle?" Chase flirted. "I'm not so sure."

"What Selina was going to say that we would love to keep chatting, but I'm going to have to get you out of those clothes," said Bruce rather boldly.

She felt lost.

"Excuse me?" blinked Chase in complete bafflement.

"And into a black dress." he finished.

"Smooth save, Brucie..." thought Selina, raising her eyebrows at him at this rather bold suggestion to the blonde psychologist.

"Tell me Doctor, do like the circus?" Bruce asked her.

 

A/N: Chapter 3 done. This one took a bit longer than expected. Things are slowly looking up with the Bruce/Selina/Chase love triangle, as we head further into the next chapter to see where this uncommon relationship will take them. Also, as you can clearly see, Selina hasn't quite gotten over her traumatic experience from Batman Returns and is having some flashbacks of her first death, which me and neostardustdragon101 will go further into in the upcoming next chapter. Speaking of which, we will get some work into it right away, as we hope we won't take long into posting it where we finally get to introduce Dick Grayson into the story. Peace! 

Chapter 4: The Flying Graysons, Darkness Within

 

Dick Grayson rummaged through his costume box. Although he was already dressed in the red-and-green tights that he and the rest of his family would be wearing tonight, he was still looking for some other sort of accouterments that would spiff up the old outfit a little. He was always trying to convince his folks to jazz up the look, and was forever modeling masks, flared boots, capes whatever occurred to him. But he always had trouble convincing his father. John always argued for simplicity, and naturally, mom went along with him. Wherever John Grayson stood, Mary Grayson was right there with him. It was kind of comforting in a way, but it was also as annoying as hell.

The door to the trailer that he shared with his brother Chris slammed open. The sounds of the crowds and the organ music were that much louder as Chris entered quickly and grabbed Dick by his shoulder. "Fer cryin’ out loud, Dick. Will you come on? We’re going on in five minutes!"

"Chris, how about if we add a—"

Chris didn’t want to hear it. Instead, he pulled Dick to his feet and said, "Look, you want to go into clothing design? So leave the act and become a fashion designer, okay? Until then, will ya come on!"

"I’m the only one in the family with vision, Chris," he said as he allowed himself to be pushed out the door by his older brother. "When the rest of you are so old and decrepit that you fall off swings at playgrounds, I’m going to be living in a mansion and driving the bitchingest car in town. Just wait and see."

"I should live so long," said Chris Grayson.

---

It wasn’t a black dress.

It was dark maroon, crushed velvet. Still, it had been more than sufficient when Bruce and Selina had picked Chase up at her rented townhouse. Bruce was in his tux, Selina was in a long navy blue dress with her blonde hair straightened, and the three of them made their way to the front entrance of the vast Gotham Hippodrome. The building was immense, and it was on the lapping edge of Gotham Harbor. Searchlights sweep the sky, flags flutter on the Hippodrome's oval roof, Limos spill Gotham's finest.

One of them contains Bruce and Selina escorting Chase.

As soon as they stepped out of the limo with the two women behind him, gossip columnists from all over were peering at Bruce’s date with both women. Chase noticed it, and Bruce noticed Chase noticing. Selina, most of all, who had noticed reporter had got hold of the unusual site for Gotham to see. 

"Of course they're gonna find that out," thought Selina, rolling her eyes at the vultures, disguised as paps. "Don't they know they shouldn't stick their nose into our business? Then again, it sells so they can make a quick buck out of it. Shouldn't have to be that way. So damn intrusive..."

The ringmaster stood in the middle of the center ring with a microphone in hand, as he watched the audience gather as the spotlight shone on him.

"Ladies and gentleman!" announced the ringmaster. "Boys and girls of all ages! Welcome to the greatest show on Earth!"

Bruce, Selina, and Chase made their way to the arena with the press following them with news cameras and flashing lights with Gossip Gerty walking alongside them to give coverage to see who the tall, attractive blonde was.

"Bruce, Selina," said Gerty. "Who is this beautiful young woman you're with?"

"Dr. Chase Meridian," Bruce answered.

"A doctor?" smiled Gerty. "What kind of doctor?"

---

Edward Nygma was watching the coverage of the event in his apartment through one of his many TVs, sitting on his chair next to the desk, sipping some Cola from the glass. The TV was showing Bruce, with his girlfriend Selina and they were with some other blonde that Edward hadn't seen before, talking to the press briefly.

"Tonight’s charity benefit has raised $375,000 for Gotham Children's Hospital," said the ringmaster on TV. "Let's thank our largest, single donor; Bruce Wayne!"

At the mention of the name, Edward sprayed a mouthful of Cola in anger that knocked one of the Guesser figures off the desk. Edward turns from the TV to his laptop, typing away.

---

"Ladies and gentlemen," called the ringmaster. "Seventy feet above the ground, performing feats of unimaginable aerial skill, the Flying Graysons!"

Bruce, Selina, and Chase looked up at the family of aerialists, already embarking on their trapeze act to the accompaniment of pounding drums. There were four of them. It shouldn’t be too hard to pick out. 

John and Chris both grabbed the trapeze bar, and swung out high into the air above the crowd, as Dick clapped his chalked-up hands a few times before grabbing a trapeze bar of his own, swinging away from the platform to join his father and brother. He pushed himself up for extra leverage and height grabbed Chris' wrists, swaying across the safety net below. Chris was hanging by the knees, watching Dick jumping to John's hands.

Mary took her cue to swing over, jumps to Chris' hands, hangs in mid-air as he swings back and forth, building momentum, then sends her to John in a poetic double somersault.

Bruce applauded at the incredible show of the family flawlessly. He took his eyes away from the aerialists, turning his attention to the blonde on his left. 

"Listen, me and Selina are going rock-climbing this weekend," Bruce said to Chase. "Would you like to join us?"

Selina turned her head to listen to the conversation out of curiosity. 

"I’d like to, actually. I love climbing. I really do..." answered Chase ecstatically from the performance.

"But..." Selina butted in, seeing the word coming before the other blonde could utter it.

"I guess I’ve met someone. Two of them, in fact."

"That's fast work, you just moved here," said Bruce.

"You know, much to my surprise," Chase gave the couple a sad look. "You really are terrific. But, you could say they kind of dropped out of the sky and... bang. I think they felt it too."

Bruce and Selina sent each other a silent look, knowing exactly what the doctor was referring to. 

There it is again, her fixation on Batman and Catwoman. What was it, anyway? The mask? The cape? The codpiece? The latex outfit? Sure, that had to be it.

"I'm sure they did..." mirthed Selina with a somewhat sarcastic remark, hiding her emotions with a smile. 

"What?" Chase said in confusion.

Bruce looked at her with a vast depth of sadness, beating his girlfriend to the punch. 

"Well, who wouldn’t?" Bruce commented with a grin. 

Chase grinned back at him.

"And now," continued the ringmaster. "Richard, the youngest Flying Grayson, will perform the awe-inspiring Death Drop. Without the safety of a net."

Chase watched raptly, as did Bruce and Selina.

The crew lowered the safety net onto the floor of the ring.

---

As the ringmaster watched the proceedings, something suddenly caught his eye. It was a gloved hand, poking from between some curtains offstage. A finger was waggling, trying to get the ringmaster’s attention.

He glanced upward at the Graysons. He knew the act; he wouldn’t have to make another announcement for sixty seconds as they climbed down the guy wires, at which point he would give their final salutation, they’d take their bows, and get offstage.

Besides, who the hell was sneaking around backstage? If someone hurt themselves back there, the insurance claims and civil suits could wipe out everything they’d accomplished this evening.

He headed toward the curtains to see what was what.

---

Dick Grayson stood on the highest platform. Grabbing the trapeze bar, he swung out high into the air above the crowd. Sometimes it seemed to him that this was the only time when he was happy: when he was in flight when he felt the wind rushing past him and heard the gasps of the crowd over his stunts.

And he would always look down at those poor, earth-bound creatures, each of whom was undoubtedly wondering, How? How could he risk death day after day, just to experience the momentary thrill of flight?

To which Dick could only wonder, How could they not?

And then as he soared above the center of the arena, Dick released the trapeze. He fell, somersaulting in midair, over and over again. The crowd was a blur around him and then suddenly his downward plunge was halted by a pair of strong hands that he knew, beyond question, would always be there for him.

"Fly, robin, fly," his father intoned to him.

They swung toward the platform, then back again toward the center as the acclamation from the crowd below swept over them. Mary was on the opposite platform and, with practiced skill, sent the other, empty trapeze arcing toward them. John Grayson released his son as Dick twirled in midair and snagged the other trapeze. It was a move that was so simple to him, so routine, that the applause it got was as odd as if a little girl had gotten a standing ovation for successfully skipping rope.

Then again, he wasn’t about to knock it.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" suddenly announced the voice of the ringmaster that sounded all too familiar to the couple.

Bruce and Selina's smiles were quickly dropped as they took a good look to see who was actually standing in the center of the arena. It was Two-Face, with that wide joyous, sadistic smile on the right side of his clear face, and the smile on his deformed left side made it look more grotesque for anyone to see. He was wearing that ridiculous top hat with the microphone in his hand, and the other holding some sort of remote control.

"Oh no..." thought Selina with dread taking over her being. "What the hell is he doing here?"

"At this time," Two-Face spoke onto the mic. "A new management of the circus invites you to forget this good, clean, wholesome American fun, and join us in a celebration of chaos, and true jesters!"

The newly arrived clowns immediately shed their garments, yanking massive guns out of the oversized clown clothes. Some people in the crowd were still laughing uncertainly until a couple of the thugs fired random shots into the air. The unmistakable chatter of the machine guns was the confirmation, for any who still needed it, that the evening had taken a deadly turn.

---

In his apartment, Edward left his seat to take a good look at his TV broadcasting Two-Face's unexpected arrival. 

His lips upturned into a wide smile, letting out a giggle at what transpired before his eyes. 

The event before him had turned from boring into something he took great joy in seeing.

---

There was panic and screaming everywhere. The deadly admonition, backed up by the armed thugs, had the desired effect. There was still the occasional whimpering, but largely the crowd was silent.

"Tonight," announced Two-Face. "A new act for your personal amazement. We call it, Massacre Under the Big Top."

---

Edward laughed maniacally, bringing out a fresh bag of popcorn, getting heavily invested in the incident.

---

"If we may direct your attention to the middle of the center ring," Two-Face nodded approvingly, as a couple of thugs rolled a round object into the ring. They attached the sphere to ropes hanging from the rafters. 

"Inside that harmless-looking orb,” continued Two-Face, "Two hundred sticks of TNT. In our hand: a radio detonator." he calmly showed the device in his hand to the frightened audience. 

"What the hell do you want, Harvey!?" an angry voice spoke up from the crowd. 

Bruce and Selina turned to see the origin of the speaker and, of course, recognized him immediately. It was the mayor. Chase, in the meantime, was clutching Bruce’s arm. Under other circumstances, the pressure might have been pleasurable, and even Selina would find that enjoyable.

"Want, Mr. Mayor?" Two-Face called. "Just two little things: Batman and Catwoman. Bruised. Broken. Bleeding. In a word: DEAD!!"

---

Edward threw his head back and laughed out loud.

---

"Batman... And Catwoman..." muttered the mayor.

Bruce and Selina remained calm through the whole thing, showing no sign of emotion, as they want to just simply jump out and get suited up. Selina unconsciously grabbed hold of her boyfriend's hand, he gripped it in return.

"Who do we have assembled before us?" gestured Two-Face to the collective crowd. "Gotham's finest, well-to-do, influential. Surely one of you knows who Batman and Catwoman is. Hell, odds are any of you pasty-faced twits is Batman and Catwoman!" 

Bruce reminded frozen, with Selina biting her lip, her grip tightened as the crazed Harvey eyed up the crowd looking for any sign or indication that Batman and Catwoman were among them.

Two-Face showed the remote control again, winding the timer with one thrust. 

"You have two minutes!" Two-Face informed them with no more concern in his voice than if he’d been hawking red hots.

He pressed the button on the device. 

The bomb promptly beeped in response and continued to do so, one beep per second.

Bruce and Selina watched helplessly as the bomb, attached to wires, was hoisted high into the air, toward the upper structural supports of the tent. It made sense, of course. It would make for the most spectacular blast from the furthest distance. If there was one thing that Two-Face lived for, it was high-profile mayhem.

The couple rose to their feet, for no secret, not even theirs was worth innocent lives. Chase, not understanding what they were about to do, tried to pull them back down.

"Bruce! Selina!" Chase called to them.

---

Edward giggled, chewing on his popcorn with a shit-eating smile, literally on the edge of his seat enjoying every moment of it. 

The chaos he was witnessing was gloriously awesome. Hell, this is a lot better and more entertaining than any other show on prime-time TV! Anything to take a peg or two down off Wayne and his dowey-eyed girlfriend, it was a pleasure to witness it live!

---

The couple ignored Chase's call to shout out Harvey’s name. Get his attention and repeat to him things said at their first meeting on that rooftop so long ago.

Two-Face’s thugs were firing over the heads of the crowd, trying to cause panic, to drive the people back, keep them in their places. Meantime the thugs were inching back toward the trapdoor through which they’d made their entrance. The moment the bomb went, so would they. 

But as the crowd panicked, falling one over the other, it was Bruce Wayne’s chance. A sea of people came between him and Chase, and he used the opportunity to slide between the rails. Within seconds he had closed in on one of the guards who blocked the way to Two-Face. The guard spotted him at the last moment and swung his gun up, but he was too slow. Bruce slugged him and he went down without another sound.

Selina made way for the second thug, and before the guy even spotted her, she scored with a high kick that the stiletto point of her high heel shoe thundered across the temple of the unfortunate guy to knock him out clean. 

The Flying Graysons stood on top of the rafters for five minutes after their performance when Two-Face and his thugs invaded. Seeing as there were people at risk of getting shot at, with the ticking bomb on top of it, it doesn't mean they're going to stand by and do nothing. 

"We can stop them," motivated John. "Richard, go out on the rigging."

"Be careful, sweetie," said Mary with concern for her youngest son.

"Don't worry, mum," ensured Dick before climbing up the rigging. 

Bruce swung a punch right at one thug's face, causing him to spin right to Selina's kick. The two of them felt naked without their trusty gadgets to aid them, but they have to make do for now, as lives around them that are in danger was more important, as both Bruce and Selina vowed they try and save as many as they can even if they're not Batman and Catwoman at this present time.

John, Mary, and Chris swung from trapeze to guy wire to platform, setting up a barrier of human bodies to try to delay the thugs. They kicked, they shoved, they blocked egress. And the thugs, needing both hands to climb, weren’t in a position to pull guns and start shooting.

In a daring display that made his earlier theatrics tame in comparison, Dick launched himself from trapeze to trapeze, bounced off the high wire, and just managed to snag an overhead catwalk. He hoisted himself up onto the catwalk.

One of the thugs grabbed John’s leg. John Grayson kicked him away and jumped to another trapeze.

Momentarily distracted by her husband’s danger, Mary Grayson was unaware of her own. From underneath the platform she was crouched on, one of Two-Face’s thugs swung up and slammed into her. Mary Grayson’s arms flailed as she tried desperately to regain her balance. But then gravity seized her and pulled her downward.

As one, the audience screamed.

At the last instant, Mary snagged a wildly swinging trapeze with her leg. It jolted her to a halt, but it was too sudden a stop and she started to slide off. But her other leg, dangling wide, wrapped itself around a trailing rope. She hung precariously high above the ground.

Two-Face looked above to see the Graysons making way for the bomb. 

"Go to work, boys!" ordered Two-Face.

Dick was clambering toward the bomb and was able to see what several of the other thugs were now pointing at: the time clock. As he watched, it ticked down to 43, and he had the sick feeling that it didn’t signify minutes.

The thugs, not having signed on for a suicide mission, started sliding down the ropes and guy wires to put distance between themselves and the bomb.

John Grayson, meantime, was moving to help his wife. He didn’t panic, didn’t even come close, They’d been in tighter spots than this, and the threat of falling didn’t paralyze the Graysons the way that it might others. But he couldn’t do it alone. 

"Chris!" he shouted, and as if by magic, Chris was there by his side. He’d already been on his way, having seen his mother’s predicament. Quickly they clambered out onto a trapeze, John anchoring Chris.

"Just like a thousand times before, Chris," said John calmly. "Same old same old. Not a problem." The mark of his bravery was that it was impossible to tell whether he believed this to be as routine as he was putting across. John set the trapeze swinging, building up momentum.

Mary saw them coming. She reached out, stretching her fingers desperately. The trapeze twisted and tilted under her leg and she felt herself slipping off. The ankle of her other leg throbbed; the rope twined around it provided her a major source of support.

It was all laid out beneath Dick Grayson. And yet, remarkably, he wasn’t concerned about them. His father was on the case, his brother was helping, and his mother was the most resourceful of the bunch. Dick, meantime, had his own problems, as he worked quickly to unlash the bomb from the rafters. He made a point of not looking at the timer counting down, because he couldn’t possibly work any faster than he was, and knowing precisely how much time he had, or didn’t have, wasn’t going to do him any good.

He heard the chatter of machine-gun fire and prayed that it wasn’t aimed up at him.

Then the bomb came free in his hands, and, God help him, he almost dropped the damned thing. It bobbled momentarily, but then he recovered it and inadvertently caught a glimpse of the amount of time he had left.

13 seconds...

Bruce and Selina had put up quite a fight with the thugs, and holding up on their own despite not having their trusty armoury with them. Then his gaze shifted to the rest of the Graysons, high above the ground. The father was swinging the son toward the mother, still twisting between the trapeze and rope. They were swinging back now, toward the far end of their arc, and now they angled back and up toward the trapped woman.

The boy’s hands closed on his mother’s. They had her. With the additional support, it would be a matter of moments for her to disentangle her leg, free herself, and swing safely with her son and husband to the opposite platform.

Two-Face had to admire them. A gutsy trapeze family, acrobats, performers. They had decided to try to be heroes. And they were worthy of the same chance that Two-Face afforded other heroes. 

The coin spun in the air and landed at his palm. 

He looked down at the scarred head...

"Our kind of day!" laughed Two-Face with a twisted smile.

He picked up a laid-out tommy gun at his feet and aimed high.

Bruce slammed his head into the thug’s face. It was the kind of maneuver he far preferred to do when wearing his reinforced mask. Nevertheless, it did the job. The thug staggered, and Bruce dealt the thug another vicious shot in the head. It sent him down to the ground, with Selina ramming her open palm to another, knocking some of his teeth out. Her whip would've done the job of taking care of the idiots who thought it's a good idea to rush headlong to them before being taken down.

They froze at the sound of a machine gun firing.

And then they saw Two-Face. 

He fired wildly in all directions, emptying the rounds of the gun right at the unsuspecting Grayson family.

The first bullet sliced through one of the trapeze supports that were suspending John and Chris Grayson. The support snapped, and John Grayson skidded off, still clutching onto his son’s legs. Chris was still holding onto Mary, and he screamed. His mind hadn’t fully registered what happened. He only knew that suddenly he felt as if he were being torn in half.

Mary shrieked as well because two seconds ago she’d been on the verge of being rescued. And now, instead, with the crack of a bullet, she was the only thing keeping her son and husband from plunging to the ground. 

"Oh my god!" gaped Chase, her heart racing against her chest.

And John knew that he was dead. That he was about to let go of his son’s leg and plummet to the ground because then maybe, just maybe, Mary could hold on and they would survive.

His life flashed before him and, to his utter surprise, there was nothing he would have done differently.

For the three Flying Graysons, the agony seemed to last an eternity. 

"The greatest show on earth!" crowed Two-Face a split instant before dived for the trapdoor through which he’d come, slamming it behind him. 

A split second later Selina was there, clawing at it, trying to pry it open. But she heard the bolt slam shut beneath, and nothing short of an explosive or a blowtorch was going to get through it. 

"Goddamn it!" swore Selina slamming both fists against the trapdoor, cursing herself for not bringing her suit in case of emergencies like this.

She looked up the rafters when she saw it. 

From above, the Graysons were plunging down with nothing to break their fall.

Chase gasped in shock at the horrendous scene. Selina looked on and threw her hands to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror, with Bruce watching in despair as the family crashed down with a sickening, cracking sound upon impact.

Dick Grayson scrambled across the roof of the Hippodrome, the bomb ticking under his arm. With prayer and all the strength in his young arms, he hurled the bomb down, down into the water. He uttered a prayer, begging that it wouldn’t explode in midair. For one thing, he was complete without protection atop the roof, and the flying shrapnel would cut him to pieces.

And for another, he really hated loud noises.

Mercifully, the bomb made it all the way to the water and even sank beneath it. Seconds later there was a muffled explosion and the water erupted upward about fifty feet, sending a geyser and mist through the air before settling back down.

It was not a workable notion.

That was when he heard the shriek, the shriek from on high. He recognized it immediately; it was his own voice.

Except it wasn’t. It was another voice, but with the same grief and agony that Bruce recalled from himself so many years ago. 

It was the boy. The boy who had done everything he could do, and was, to the other still frantic people within the Hippodrome, a hero.

None of which mattered one bit.

---

Bruce, Selina, and Chase stood outside the Hippodrome, watching the ambulances roll away as more and more police cars seemed to materialize. Bruce felt a certain amount of impatience. What was the purpose of all this? Two-Face was gone. The thugs who had been captured wouldn’t be able to tell the police anything useful. Bruce was certain that they were all hired goons, brought in especially for this particular job. Harvey was too canny to risk the loss of people who might betray him.

Chase drew his arm closer. "Where did you go running off to?"

"Nowhere," Bruce said. "We got separated from you by other people, and spent the rest of the time trying to find you."

Even as he spoke with her, he didn’t hear his own words. 

Instead, he was running that moment, the moment, back through his mind.

He had sworn he would protect them. The people of Gotham that he swore to himself years ago, no matter what flaws they have, he would protect them. He had hurled himself into the midst of the criminal element in order to combat it selflessly, and he was fearful of staring too closely into the abyss, lest it stares back at him. All the lives he had saved and helped them despite past their faults and got the better of them, he couldn't even save three.

He had failed them.

He had failed the poor boy.

If he had gotten close to Two-Face, if he had done something, anything, the Graysons would be alive. It was hard to be certain, for everything had happened so quickly. Perhaps, and then again, perhaps not.

What was certain was that he’d had Two-Face in his sights, and he in his head, taunting him, defying him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Chase said gently.

He looked down at her.

"There’s nothing to talk about," said Bruce, shaking his head.

Then he saw Dick Grayson from a distance away. He had a blanket draped over him, covering his red-and-green leotard. His head was lowered, his face ashen.

"He deserved so much better," said Chase, expressing sympathy. "I wonder if he has any other family."

"No," Bruce told her. "Gordon said no. It was just his parents and..." He paused and then amended, "Just him."

"It’s just so unfair."

"What happens to him now?" asked Bruce.

"Now? Now he gets pumped into the system, I guess."

He thought about the system. The overcrowded, underfinanced system...

"The hell he does," uttered Bruce in a somewhat cold tone.

Chase thought she decide to leave him be for now. She looked around for Selina, who had said nothing during the whole exchange since they left the building. When she did find Selina, she appeared to be in a world of her own. She was leaning heavily against the wall with her hand, and had the other on her stomach, and was breathing heavily.

"Selina, what's wrong," asked Chase out of concern. "Are you okay?"

Selina said nothing at first, but she gathered enough strength to turn around. Her eyes were dancing back and forth, fully aware the blonde psychologist was right by her, trying to at least help her.

"It's happening again," muttered Selina, more likely to herself. "Seeing them fall... Seeing them fall takes me back to that night... With Shreck..."

Chase can tell there's something wrong with the poor woman. She was obviously in shock, and from what she could see, whatever happened to Selina in the past, the Graysons' deaths must've brought back whatever trauma the other woman had gone through with whoever this Shreck person was. 

"Hey," consoled Chase placing both hands on her arms, comforting her. "I understand you're in shock right now, but you need to control your breathing."

Selina finally made the effort to look straight into Chase's eyes, as the doctor runs her hands up and down her arms in a soothing manner. She slowly felt her heart rate returning to normal, but she couldn't get that fall out of her mind. 

Over and over again, like an old VHS tape, it kept rewinding to the same thing until it wears itself out. 

The sickening, horrific sound upon impact... 

She trembled very noticeably, she felt the urge to puke on the spot, but the doctor's soothing words prevented her from doing so.

"Stay with me," Chase instructed. "Just relax and steady yourself." 

She knew for sure, the fall she had witnessed before her eyes, she was reliving that moment of how she became Catwoman. The moment that nearly ruined her life.

The moment it nearly destroyed her.

She had no earthly idea as to why she was currently in this out-of-body experience, how she was endlessly trembling and how she was acting like she not even out front of the Hippodrome, she hoped against hope that her past trauma was not as serious as she thought. 

Selina couldn't believe it...

She couldn't believe that even after those two years since Shreck's death, Selina really thought she had moved on from her trauma to lead a happy life and a fresh start to her future with Bruce afterward, and forget about it. 

She was dead wrong...

---

It was the next afternoon when the police cruiser pulled up in front of Wayne Manor. Dick Grayson, a pack on his back, came riding up behind it on his motorcycle. It was a small, modest little vehicle, but his folks had scrimped and saved to get it for him and it meant the world to him. The day that he’d gotten it and unwrapped it, he was sure that he would never again see anything nearly as impressive as the shining red little ’cycle.

And he hadn’t.

Until he’d pulled up into the main drive of Wayne Manor. Then he stared at the house and continued to stare at it.  As Bruce Wayne emerged from the mansion, Commissioner Gordon stepped out of the back of the cruiser and headed toward Bruce to speak with him. 

Selina was not beside him like she usually does, because she had mentioned to him that she had booked an early appointment with Chase to have a therapy session to discuss her Max Shreck trauma with her. Bruce, admittedly, was reluctant in letting his girlfriend talk about the incident with the blonde psychologist out of fear of revealing her secret identity as Catwoman to her, so he let her go and do her session with the doctor.

On the way, he paused next to Dick in order to push his mouth shut.

"Bruce, it’s good of you to take him in," said Gordon with no preamble. "He’s been filling out forms all day. He hasn’t slept or eaten."

"Oh, well," said Bruce, gesturing for Dick to come forward. "I’m sure we’ll be able to scrape together something in the fridge."

Dick walked past Gordon, still awestruck by what he was seeing. Gordon began to say good-bye but quickly became aware that he wasn’t remotely a part of the boy’s reality at that moment. He shrugged, shook Bruce’s hand, gave his thanks once more, and then headed for the cruiser.

In the foyer of Wayne Manor, Dick was looking around in undisguised amazement. Bruce stood in the open doorway, still a little bit unsure of what to say. Should he speak gently, or firmly? Was the boy looking for a friend, or an older brother, or just someone to talk to? Or perhaps none of the above?

He knew one thing for sure. The boy was going to be in mourning. He would likely be somber and serious, and prone to unexpected crying jags at the wrong words. And in his state of mind, any words could be the wrong ones. Best to proceed on eggshells until he had the situation sorted out.

From the other direction came Bruce Wayne’s trusted butler.

"Welcome, Master Grayson," greeted Alfred. "I’m Alfred."

Dick looked at him in confusion. "Master Grayson?"

"A standard honourific," said Bruce.

"Huh." And then, to Bruce’s astonishment, Dick elbowed Alfred in the ribs. "How ya doin’, Al?"

He stepped away from Alfred as the butler looked in barely contained amazement at Bruce.

"Al?" mouthed the butler. 

Bruce shrugged and turned to Dick. "We prepared a room for you upstairs. But maybe you’d like to eat first."

The last statement didn’t even seem to register. So instead, Alfred and Bruce stood patiently and waited for Dick to guide the situation.

Dick, for his part, was watching out the window until the police cruiser carrying Gordon was safely out of sight. 

"Okay," said Dick, turning to them. "I’m outta here."

Bruce hadn’t been precisely sure what to expect, but this definitely wasn’t it. Chase Meridian had offered to be there to try to smooth things along, but he had confidently said that he could handle it. Now he was starting to regret that decision. 

"Excuse me?" said Bruce politely.

Dick shifted the weight of his pack slightly on his back. "I figure telling that cop I’d stay here saved me a truckload of social service interviews and goodwill. So no offense but see ya. Thanks."

Bruce made a subtle gesture to Alfred and then matched Dick’s stride as they both headed outside.

"Where will you go? The circus is halfway to Metropolis by now," asked Bruce.

"I’m going to get a fix on Two-Face," said Dick matter-of-factly. "Then I’m going to kill him."

Bruce endeavored to take the flat pronouncement in stride. "Killing Two-Face won’t take the pain away. In fact, it’ll make it worse."

Dick looked at him with open skepticism. Bruce could practically read his mind: You’re a rich guy who lives in a mansion the size of Rhode Island, with more money than most people have in a lifetime. What the hell do you know about pain. "Look, spare me the sermons, okay? I don’t need your advice. Or your charity."

Bruce didn’t seem to be paying attention. Instead, he was looking ahead to Dick’s motorcycle. "Nice bike."

"You a big motorcycle fan, Bruce?" Dick lowered his voice derisively, looking at Bruce up and down skeptically. "Hang at a lot of biker bars?"

"I know a little about bikes," Bruce replied easily.

As Dick began to mount the motorcycle, he waited for the protestations or angry orders from Bruce. Instead, he stood a couple of feet away and said serenely, 

"Well, good luck," said Bruce serenely, started to turn away and then, struck by an afterthought and said, "Oh, you might want to fill up in our garage. No gas stations for miles."

Dick stared at him for a moment, and then figured, what the hell? Why not?

He rolled the bike toward the garage, Bruce leading the way. Wayne wasn’t even trying to make pointless small talk, and Dick even felt reluctantly grateful for that. Couldn’t fault the guy for trying. It’s just that he was trying to help someone who cared about only one thing in...

The garage door rolled up to reveal five vintage automobiles, each serenely parked in its individual and customized parking spaces. A Rolls. A Bentley. A Spider. And two... good lord, two Turners.

"Oh, man!" was all he was able to get out.

"Pump’s this way," Bruce said, as if unaware of the boy’s excitement.

Dick followed him, unable to tear his gaze away from the cars. Unable, that was, until he saw another array of vintage crafts lined up.

Motorcycles.

This time Dick made no pretense of disinterest or even high-handedness.

"That’s a BMW 950," he pointed. "A Kawasaki Razor. And that’s a Harley Mongoose. I think they only made ten."

"Seven, actually. She’s our pride and joy," Bruce sighed sadly. "Doesn’t run though."

"Probably the gearbox," Dick said with authority. "They were touchy. And sometimes the fuel caps carbonize."

Bruce gave the matter some thought.

"I’ve been looking for someone to restore these," mused Bruce. "Hell, someone gets these going, he could take any bike he wanted as a fee. Plus room and board while he worked on them." He looked at Dick blandly. "Too bad you’re not staying around. Anyway, have a good trip."

At that moment Alfred walked into the garage, carrying a tray stacked with London broil, baby potatoes, and fresh greens. Even Bruce, who had eaten barely an hour ago, felt his mouth starting to salivate. So he could only imagine what it was like for the hungry Dick Grayson.

"Oh, is the young master leaving?" Alfred asked, the picture of unwitting ignorance. "Pity. I’ll just toss this away then. Perhaps the dogs are hungry." He turned and headed back into the house.

It was at that precise moment that Dick Grayson knew that he was utterly overmatched. He wasn’t sure precisely why Wayne was going to this much trouble to extend hospitality. It was almost as if he felt guilty over something. It sure couldn’t have been because they had something in common, since they had, in fact, nothing in common.

Still...

"Maybe just a couple of days..." Dick thought, trying not to lick his lips as the aroma of the meat hung in the air around him. 

"Get these babies purring," Dick started after Alfred before calling to him. "Yo, Al, wait up!"

---

In the library of Wayne Manor, Bruce touched a vase of fresh roses while the rays of the setting sun filtered through the window. Next to the roses were photographs of Thomas and Martha Wayne, laughing into the camera, their arms draped around their young son, Bruce.

He heard the two gunshots.

"Tell me something, kid," echoed an ominous voice. "Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

The room became abruptly darker and he turned to see two coffins, a room filled with mourners. It was as if all the events of several days were being compressed into one hideous day.

He was standing next to a desk as people filed by, shaking their heads at his parents, clucking sympathetically at him. He stepped back, trying to get away from them, and his hands rested upon a leather-bound book atop the desk. He pulled his fingers away from the book as if it had scalded him.

The front door of the library blew open, a fierce and somehow evil wind whipping through the house. Bruce tried to lunge for the book, to prevent it from being blown away. Instead, the cover blew open, pages flipping wildly back and forth as if his entire life, past, present, and future, was dancing past him.

The window smashed open, exploding, glass shattering, and out of the darkness flew a huge, evil creature.

The monster wrapped its massive leather wings around itself, and it spoke with Bruce Wayne’s amazed, understanding voice...

"A bat... I shall become a bat..."

---

"Alright, intimate me, bully me if it makes you feel big, I mean it's not like you can just kill me!" she shouted only for Max to shake his head sadly.

"Actually, it's a lot like that," Shreck said as he drew closer towards Selina who had a look of terror on her face before Shreck smiled at her. "Huh!?" Max laughed.

"What!?" Selina said as her whimpers turned to chuckles. Max chuckled as well and the young blonde assumed this was all a joke.

"For a second you really frightened me I-" Before she could finish, Shreck came forward and pushed her out the window screaming as she plummeted into the darkness and swirling snow falling through three awnings slowing her fall but couldn't delay the inevitable as she hit the snowy ground beneath her.

"Help me..." She managed to speak out. "Someone...please help me..." She begged someone warm and loving above all this.

"Please... Help me... Batman...please..."

"Miss Kitty..." Those were the last words Selina spoke as the sight of the falling white snow turned to utter darkness as her eyes fully closed as she laid there in the cold snow.

Selina felt death's cold embrace beckoning her but something was keeping her from death's door, a familiar sound she knew all too well, the sound of a cat meowing, she felt a warm tingle brush across her face as her eyes slowly began to open and she saw the image of Miss Kitty and her fellow felines surrounding her.

"That's exactly how it happened, Doctor," explained Selina, laying down on the couch comfortably, staring up at the ceiling of Doctor Meridian's office, telling her what had happened on the night Shreck pushed her out of the window two years ago. "I was laying on the freezing cold, snowy pavement for who knows how long. The minute I was literally facing death like I was swimming in this never-ending darkness, and the next thing before I know it, I was brought back to life."

"The fact that you even survived the fall is a miracle in itself, Miss Kyle," said an astonished Chase, writing down everything that Selina told her on her notepad, sitting on her comfortable leather chair with her legs crossed. "The fact that those two years you had those memories suppressed and kept it under the surface of your mind until what happened at the circus. Even after what you went through, you easily thought you'd have moved on from it." 

"That's what I thought, Doctor," told Selina. "Honestly, during those two years, I really thought I got over my trauma of what my former boss did, but that videotape of Mr. Stickley jumping out of the window and seeing poor Richard's family drop to their deaths brought me back to that night."

Chase had heard about what happened at Wayne Enterprises the other night and had sent her condolences to Bruce and to Stickley's family. 

"There's gotta be something else that," Chase pressed on.  "So tell me, what happened next after you were brought back?"

Selina couldn't help but sigh at that question, as her mind flashed to when she lost her mind that leads her to trash her old apartment.

Her whimpers turned into heavy breathing, tears streaming down her face. She let out a spine-chilling scream and threw the milk carton right at the answering machine.

"All right," sighed a reluctant Selina. "After I was brought back, I went back home, and I couldn't remember how long it took me to get back, must've been like 15 minutes, but it felt like an eternity. Throughout my trip back, I was in complete shock at what had happened. Also, how when I came back from death, I felt reborn. I wasn't the helpless mousy girl anyone could pick on. I was stronger and more confident, but at the same time it was like I'm still broken on the inside and struggling to pick up the pieces of myself to find out who I really am."

She explained to the doctor how she lost it when she got home and trashed her apartment and the good thing that the person who did it was now dead. And another bad thing, that she should've gotten over it the moment Shreck died, but the Grayson family falling to their deaths, along with Stickley's suicide had triggered those memories.

"I think I might know what you have from what I suspected last night at the circus, Miss Kyle," Chase in a firm tone like she reached a conclusion. "What you're going through with your time with your former boss, and not to mention with how you reacted to the Grayson family's deaths from that height, and it's not the first time I've seen this. I've had clients that came to me and confessed their traumas that were somewhat similar and different to yours, and the diagnostics are almost always the same, and in your case, your near-death experience. Miss Kyle, I think you're suffering from a classic case of post-traumatic stress disorder."

Selina couldn't hold back her sigh, not surprised at what the attractive doctor had told her. 

PTSD... Now it makes sense... Everything she went through with her recent flashbacks that linked back to those two years was all coming together. Her first death, Stickley's suicide, the Grayson's fall, flashing from image to image like a video stuck on repeat... 

Chase couldn't help herself but smile at Selina's form. The more she looked at her, the more she was seeing her in a different light.  

Miss Kyle was definitely not what she seemed, even with the fact that she confessed her mental breakdown after what she went through with her life-changing traumatizing experience, there was more to Selina Kyle than she meets the eye. She had such bravery and so strong-willed that any normal woman would've been mentally broken if they were in Selina's shoes. 

She couldn't help but admire her for that.

Then, she felt her stomach leap. 

With a hint of a smirk, Chase uncrossed her legs to get up from her chair to make way to the other end of the couch where Selina laid on. She wrapped her hands around Selina's ankles and lifted up her crossed feet to sit down on the other end of the couch, placing her feet on her lap. 

"Uh, Doctor," questioned Selina with a confused look on her face. "What are you doing?"

"Exactly what I'm giving you," husked the blonde psychologist. "You just need to relax and let me work on my magic."

Before Selina put any thought on the meaning behind the comment, she felt Chase slipping her black high heel shoes off to dump them on the floor before she felt fingers wrapping around her feet.  

Chase had spent so much time staring at them, feeling her heart racing at the sight. 

Selina had gorgeous feet. They were slender and long, size 7. Creamy and smooth, like the rest of Selina's skin with high arches, and her toenails polished black. 

Then Chase began massaging, firm strokes of her fingers, massaging all around, taking time to rub and lightly pull on each toe. For Selina, it was the outright most spectacular foot rub she'd ever experienced. Instead of pulling them back in disgust, she found herself genuinely surprised at how much she was enjoying it. Chase seemed to be so into it, taking so much care, every touch was perfect. A soft moan escaped the doctor's lips.

Chase looked up at Selina. 

"Feel good, Miss Kyle?" asked Chase. 

"Amazing just... Oooh... So amazing," whispered a grinning Selina, closing her eyes and leaned back against the smooth, leather couch.

And it was a damn good foot massage too. Chase spent a good five minutes expertly massaging and then switched to the other foot, giving it the same wonderful treatment. 

Almost immediately, Selina snapped her eyes open, noticing how close Chase's face was to her foot, her gaze fixed on it as she caressed. 

Chase's eyes flicked up to meet Selina's, and she felt her heart skipped a beat. Now they were eye to eye there was no mistaking it, it was pure lust in the blonde psychologist's eyes. 

Holding her gaze, Chase inched forward and lightly pressed her lips to the tip of her right big toe. A protest was halfway through Selina's lips when it became a sigh, despite her reservations this was the very best foot massage she'd ever had. She said nothing, their eyes still locked as Chase kissed all five toes.

Then came her tongue. A long, lingering lick from the heel to the tip of her pinky toe. Selina moaned, almost a purr as she closed her eyes again, allowing herself to completely relax, letting go of the mountain of stress that had been threatening to overwhelm her. Chase took the little toe in her mouth and sucked, tongue caressing the bottom of it. As with the kisses Chase gave equal treatment to all five digits.

And then she changed to the left foot, taking care to enjoy every moment, and do her very best with each toe, again starting with the littlest. When she reached the big toe she treated it just like she would suck the cock of a guy she was giving head to. Taking it in her mouth, exploring it with her tongue all over.

She kissed and licked over the top of the left foot and then up the inside of the foot, her tongue sliding across her arch. She found the hollow at the ankle and licked. The waves of pleasure she never knew existed were coursing through her body was incredible! She had never felt anything like this in her life! It was a new level of pleasure!

"Oh god..." Selina gasped, her green eyes snapping open. "Please, d-do that again..."

Chase flashed her a wicked grin and licked again.

There it was, that spark, that tingle right in her core. Not only was this a foot rub to die for but now, this drop-dead gorgeous hot blonde who she met not long ago as Catwoman, had discovered a whole new erogenous zone.

Alternating between the same spot on both feet, Chase licked and kissed, causing Selina to squirm on the couch, biting her bottom lip, no doubt she was starting to feel certain dampness between her legs. There was no doubt about it; this was getting way beyond inappropriate doctor/client behavior, and Selina normally would put her foot down at such hanky panky, but this kind of scenario she would let pass, and it was making her feel wet.

And anyway, what possible harm could there be, something that felt so incredibly good couldn't be wrong.

One of Chase's delicate hands began creeping up Selina's right calf, massaging the smoothness of her skin. 

"Oh god, this is going too far..." thought Selina in panic. The more she was into this bizarre, yet wonderful massage that Chase's magical hands were giving to her feet, the more she was further questioning her sexuality. It was the exact same feeling that Chase gave her up on the GCPD roof the other night as Catwoman, and this time, the familiar swirling in her stomach was there and it was not going away anytime soon. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, how would Bruce react to all this? More importantly, what would he think about this when he finds out about this inappropriate unprofessionalism? 

A small part of her brain was telling her to give in to her inner desires, which means she was technically cheating on him, fearing that her relationship with her knight in black armour would be over. Before she could even think about that possibility, there was another half of her mind that was winning this internal debate, had reminded what Bruce told her the other day before meeting the doctor for the first time as themselves.

Nothing will come between us, Selina. Besides, from the way I've seen her, it looks like I'm not the only one she's making eyes at.

Wait! Did Bruce actually imply that he was okay with letting her do what she like with Chase? Is that what he actually means?

Instead of backing away to leave as any normal sane person would do, she chose to part her legs further as the hand again disappeared under her skirt. Chase was lovingly sucking away on her big toe when her fingers found the damp front of Selina's panties.

Selina couldn't help but gasp in pure ecstasy, this action made the now horny blonde psychologist grin against her big toe. 

"Tell me something, Selina dear," cooed Chase, releasing the other woman's big toe with a pop. "Have you ever been with a woman before?"

Selina opened her eyes again, now looking into Chase's glossy blue eyes that held pure lust behind them. It was now clear as day that she wanted her, as she could tell with the way Chase was prowling across to get on top of her. Her heart was now thumping against her chest at this sensation that felt familiar, yet very new at the same time.

Before Selina could answer Chase's apparent question, she felt the other woman's lips press against her's which sent aflame all over her system. It was the same, familiar feeling from when she and Bruce shared their first kiss up on that rooftop shortly after she blew up Shreck's department store.

Selina flickered her green eyes shut, finding herself kissing Chase back, wrapping her arms around the doctor's petite frame. 

There it was. Selina's first kiss with Chase. Her very first kiss with a woman. 

And it felt so damn good...

The kiss at first was testing the waters, then it became chaste, then it became heated, but soon grew into a ferocious tongue-wrestling match as they turned each other on more and more, their hands roaming each other's bodies. Selina had to admit, the kiss wasn't as bad as she thought it would. In fact, she enjoyed it! 

Chase leaned into Selina, her hair fell across her breasts, brushing her blouse. She snaked her hand to the back of her head, running her hands through her wild blonde locks, and pulled back slightly until Selina's head was resting on the armrest, exposing her neck. Her mouth was so hot, her tongue ever hotter. Chase licked her neck, earlobe, where she stopped to suck and nibble, causing her to moan.

Selina reached around to run her fingers on her back, fumbling with the zipper on the back of the blonde psychologist's dress, but at the same time, was so afraid. Chase noticed the hesitation and held her chin with her fingers, making her look into her eyes leaning forward to kiss her full on the lips for the second time. Selina closed her eyes with desire, the leather couch made that lovely sound that turns Selina on, that delicious squeaking under her weight that remained her of her multiple latex catsuits. 

Selina unzipped the dress slow and steadily as Chase started fumbling with the buttons of her client's blouse. Chase peeled the silk-like material from Selina's shoulders as the latter did the same by sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders, exposing each other's bras. 

With a knowing, silent look in their lust-filled eyes, both women unhooked their bras, their breasts pressing against each other feeling the weight of the warm mount that felt so right. All Selina wanted to do at this moment was to see, feel, taste her breasts as her exposed pale nipples hardened at the sight of Chase's full set.

Selina leaned back a bit as Chase caressed her left breast, lightly flicking her erect nipple with her tongue. She rolled her other nipple between her thumb and finger with such skill and precision, causing her to arch her back. Her moans were now so loud that she was almost afraid that occupants outside the doctor's office would hear them and interrupt their fun. Chase sat up, straddling her hips, her hands are still gently Selina's nipples with her fingers and tongue. Her breath quickens, letting her know that she was liking what the doctor was doing.

Chase smiled slyly at her before shifting herself to climb off of Selina, who moaned at the loss of contact but found herself grinning broadly when she can see that the other woman in front of her had other ideas in mind. 

Chase stood in front of the now horny Selina, whose eyes were dancing across the exposed trim figure, fascinated at what she was seeing. Chase was now clad in a garter belt, stockings, and high heels, her soft and supple body and her massive chest, so different from her own small pair. 

Selina stayed where she was, her mouth hanging open to watch this know, finding it increasingly difficult to contain herself together. She resisted every nerve and temptation of wanting to leap off the couch and ravish the doctor right here right now. 

"C'mere, Selina," whispered Chase in a seductive, inviting tone, extending her arms out. 

Selina couldn't help but gulp, swallowing her throat before getting up to her feet with shaky, labour breaths. Her knees wobbled a little bit from the intensity and excitement of Chase's actions. When she got to Chase, she gripped her hands with the doctor's, and she found herself being guided forward to the other woman's desk in front of them. Chase then let go of Selina's hands to place them on her waist and lifted her so she can sit her rear on the edge of the desk. Selina let out a small squeak from her mouth when Chase lifted her up to sit her down on the desk. 

The attractive blonde psychologist's devilish grin plastered on her pretty face, getting down to her knees to hike Selina's pencil skirt up to her waist before she looped her index fingers through the waistband of her underwear. Chase grinned wickedly at how wet her client was, oh boy, was she soaked wet through... She looked up to Selina with a teasing, wicked look in her eyes, and before she could utter a single word, the doctor pulled it down her legs. Selina couldn't help but gasp at the cool air hitting her like a rush of wind.

"Oh fuck!" gasped Selina. 

The feeling that Chase was giving her pussy was so stimulating and sensational! The waves of pleasure were sending her into places that she never even thought possible. Sure, there were times when she and Bruce would get naughty whenever the opportunity arises between them, but with Chase, this is another level of pleasure!

Selina moved her legs to wrap them around the back of Chase's head, locking her in place to make sure she's not going anywhere. 

Chase lowered her head further and ran her tongue through Selina's wet folds savouring the taste. She felt the doctor digging her bare heels on her back and her hands on her hips, pressing her down and start licking her clit in teasing circles before she would run her tongue and down, flicking and stabbing at the sensitive folds. 

That sent Selina to the brink quickly since she was highly aroused from what had happened since the blonde psychologist had unexpectedly stimulated her feet, and from what she felt previously was hesitation, which turned into want, and now what she wants nothing more than to have Chase's tongue fuck her womanhood right here right now!

Selina bucked her hips up to let Chase go deeper, which caused the latter to increase the friction and pleasure her tongue was sending until she pushed another to Selina's peeks simultaneously crying out for a release.

"Oh!" Selina cried out in ecstasy. "Oh fuck! Don't stop, don't stop, don't you fucking stop!" 

The next few minutes were filled with throaty moans and whispers emitting from Selina's lips, fiercely gripping the edge of the desk, knowing she was in the verge of climaxing any minute. Chase frantically ran her tongue through Selina's throbbing folds, her energy increasing by the minute whenever Selina was making those wonderful moans from her open mouth.

"Oh god, yes!" moaned Selina out loud. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm gonna fucking cum...!" 

She tightened her hold around the doctor's head with her legs, now thrusting her hips blindly towards Chase's probing tongue that immediately lapped up the juices that began to flow like a river from her.

Selina's body went limp as she collapsed onto Chase, who quickly got to her feet to hold her steady. She stroked her client's sweat-damp hair, as she buried her face onto her shoulder to catch her breath. Chase gently cupped her cheeks with her hands and pulled Selina in for a smoldering kiss.  

"You enjoyed that?" asked Chase, pulling back.

All Selina could do was nod, her turn in pulling Chase for another kiss. The doctor returned the kiss with the same equal passion, bringing her hand up to run her hands through her client's wild blonde hair, making her style even wilder, which she looked twice as hot as she already was in Chase's honest opinion. 

She could tell Selina enjoyed every moment of it, especially the first time she had a woman to eat her up. 

"Than again, she needs to have more sessions with me every so often," Chase thought to herself, giggling in her mind.

"I really need to do those sessions with you again..." breathed Selina.

"A woman has gotta work hard to make you fully stimulated," flirted the doctor. "Now, ready for another round?"

Selina yelped, smiling wide at Chase's bold actions as she allowed her to drag her by the arm to lead her to another room.

---

An hour later, Selina walked through the front entrance of the GCPD. She shuddered when the cold air hit her damp skin as soon as she walked through the doors to make her way to the Bentley. She climbed onto the driver's seat and took a moment to gather herself.

Did that happen? Did her unexpected sex with Chase up there really happen up there? The minute she confessed her trauma to her, and the next thing she knew, they were fucking each other like mad! 

Having further composed herself, Selina started the engine and pulled her car out to the road. 

She looked up overhead and saw the Batsignal lit up in the sky. Then coincidently, she heard a beep ringing from her purse that she dug out. It looked like an earpiece, and a small LED light was flashing red. She slid it onto her ear and pressed a small button.   

"Selina," called Bruce from the other line. 

"I'm just on my way home right now," replied Selina "I'll be right over immediately."

She let go of the button as she drove through the city and straight through the road, her mind dead set on getting to the Batcave as quickly as she could.

---

10 minutes earlier...

"Master Bruce?"

Bruce was jolted awake. He looked around in confusion, for his dream surroundings had been identical to his genuine whereabouts. Minus, of course, the coffins, the mourners, and the gargantuan bat...

Although maybe the bat was actually there, albeit it only in spirit. He was holding a rose which he had pulled from a vase of fresh ones. 

"It’s exactly the same as with my parents, Alfred," murmured Bruce in a slightly distant tone. "It’s happening again, except this time to that poor boy. The precise same scenario: A monster comes out of the night. There’s a scream. Two gunshots." 

He took a deep breath, showing a rare sign of hesitation, and said, "I killed them."

"What did you say?" gapped Alfred, who was by and large unflappable, nevertheless was unable to help to look at his employer at this unexpected response. 

Bruce looked up, confused at Alfred’s reaction. 

"He killed them," Bruce said, not comprehending why Alfred seemed so disconcerted by such a self-evident statement. "Two-Face. He slaughtered that boy’s parents."

"You said I. ‘I killed them.’ Who?" the butler, holding onto the subject his master had mentioned

Before Bruce could answer, a light through the window illuminated their faces. He looked through the window to see the Batsignal in the sky with wailing sirens that were heard in the background. Immediately Bruce was on his feet and turned to Alfred. 

"Take care of the kid," Bruce said and was out of the door before the butler could say anything further. 

Alfred could never remember a time when he’d been genuinely pleased to see that hyperactive flashlight burning in the sky. But he was hard-pressed to remember a time when he was less pleased to see it.

Bruce marched out of the room to make way to the Batcave, fishing out a device from his pocket and slipped it onto his ear.

"Selina," uttered Bruce. 

"I'm just on my way home right now," replied Selina from the other line. "I'll be right over immediately."

Bruce ceased transmission, heading for the narrow room where the Batcave resides behind the shelves. He pressed a hidden button to open the entrance and disappeared into the depths of the cave.

---

In Dick Grayson’s room, one that he had picked out after Alfred had offered him a plethora of choices. He was staring out the window at the gleaming Batsignal in the night sky.

He’d heard about Batman and Catwoman, of course. Even people on the road heard about genuine phenoms like Batman and Catwoman.

So where the hell had the renowned crime fighters been when the Flying Graysons needed him?

There was a knock at the door. Dick grunted a semisyllable that passed for telling someone to come in.

Alfred took the noise as it was meant and stepped into the room. "Can I help you settle in, Master Grayson?"

"No thanks, I won’t be here long," replied Dick. 

Alfred’s foot bumped up against Dick’s motorcycle helmet. A typical teenage boy. Why put anything on a shelf or a cabinet when there was always a convenient floor on which to drop it? Alfred picked it up. On the back of it, curiously, was a decal of a common red-breasted bird.

"Is this a robin?" he asked.

Dick shrugged as if it were nothing of consequence. "My brother’s wire broke during a show. I swung out, caught him. Afterward, my father called me his hero, said I flew like a robin." He paused at the memory, which had always been so pleasant for him. No longer, though.

Because his brother, whom he had saved, was gone.

Because his father, who had praised him, was gone.

Because his mother, whom he had loved, was gone.

"Some hero I turned out to be..." murmured Dick bitterly.

It was rather remarkable for Alfred. He had seen that same air of frustration hanging over Bruce Wayne mere minutes before, hovering like a dark cloud. It gave him some hope for what Dick Grayson might become. It also gave him some fear.

He settled for saying, "Ah, but your father was right, young man. You are a hero. I can tell."

Dick placed the helmet back onto the bed and picked up the red and green leotard.

"Throw this away will you, Alfred," said Dick, handing the costume to the butler. "I won't be needing it anymore."

Alfred paused for a second at the boy's request, but he placed it inside the drawer before saying, "I think I'll just put it in here."

He closed the drawer and turned to the boy with some last, encouraging words of wisdom. 

"Broken wings mend in time," smiled Alfred. "One day Robin will fly again. I promise."

Dick said nothing, made it rather apparent that, as far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. Alfred waited a moment more, and then turned and walked out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Dick cracked open his knapsack. He pulled out a newspaper, opened it, and smoothed out the headline which read, TWO-FACE SLAYS 3 AT CIRCUS.

He upended the knapsack, and other clippings about Two-Face spilled out. He stared at them, his rage growing and roiling within him.

He had no clear idea to what end he was going to turn his fury. He wasn’t sure where he would look for Two-Face, or how he could ever find him, or just precisely how he would destroy him when they did finally meet.

But he knew they would. He knew it beyond any doubt.

And the outcome was never in doubt, either.

---

The Batmobile streaked along the aqueducts extending through the cityscape of Gotham. Flared arches supported one roadway over another. 

Batman was behind the wheel, keeping a lookout for any disturbances. Then an internal warning system began to beep at them, as Catwoman pressed a button next to her seat which activated a radar. It showed the costumed couple two cars roared from side entrances. Each was painted red and black. They moved so quickly that their undercarriages scraped along with the asphalt, sending up sparks, as the cars tore after the Batmobile.

Overhead the roadway, there was a heavily cloaked woman, her face concealed with a hood, and was pushing a baby carriage crossing the seemingly deserted road in a rather painstakingly slow pace. 

Catwoman saw an obstacle ahead. Of all the time in the world for anyone or anything to get in the way in amidst of a car chase, it had to be this! This old lady was taking her sweet time, and it looks it she was unaware of what's heading her way. 

"Bruce, we can't slow down with those goons behind us," told Catwoman. 

"I know, Selina," replied Batman, not keeping his eyes off the road. "We have to find another way for her to get out of the way."

However, there was no need for Batman to come up with an idea, as the figure removed her cloak, revealing Two-Face, who whipped an RPG, most likely stolen from the military and aimed it right at the approaching Batmobile. Batman's eyes widened at who was standing in front of them, as did Catwoman.

"Shit!" cursed latex-clad feline. 

Without any time to waste, Batman pressed a button at the front gear lever, and the wheels of the Batmobile turned at the 9 o'clock angle to move slightly to the left. Two-Face fired a rocket, which flew right past the moving Batmobile that was just about an inch away from being blown to bits. Catwoman watched the rocket fly right past them and hit the mark on one of the goon cars, which alight with fire upon impact.

Two-Face saw the devastation, and let out a long groan of frustration before he sobbed, dropping his head on the RPG.

Flashing graphics of the Batmobile and three more pursuit cars winked into life on the windscreen. Suddenly two more snapped into the picture as well. 

Batman pulled the lever back to the Batmobile picked up some speed to drive right by Two-Face, who looked at the departing vehicle with anger bubbling through the surface. He threw the launcher right at it with all the strength he could muster, but only for it to clatter to pieces. 

Cars pursuing them in a two-by-two formation. Cars that were determined to provide Batman and Catwoman with the rest they craved. Unfortunately, it was a rest from which, if they had their way, there would be no awakening.

"He needs another hobby," Batman muttered.

"You'd have thought he has something else to occupy his time besides trying to kill us," replied Catwoman with a sly grin.  

Sure enough, a moment later they heard the familiar clattering of bullets ricocheting off the Batmobile’s armoured hide. He wasn’t particularly concerned about his own welfare. Nothing short of a surface-to-surface missile was going to put a dent in the Batmobile, although Batman wasn’t willing to disallow the notion that Two-Face might have one stashed away for just such an occasion.

Behind Two-Face, another car pulled over right behind him that knocked over the baby carriage that was forgotten about. He climbed in and shoved a thug off the driver's seat.

"We'll drive, thank you," uttered Two-Face, pressing the pedal to pursue further into the chase.

The machine gun bullets continue to ricochet off the Batmobile's armour until the magazine was empty. 

Batman had sent the Batmobile into full throttle, kicked it in afterburner, and hurtled towards the abyss. 

Catwoman glanced at the tactical display once more, expecting to see no more cars. Instead, there was another one. Looking at his surroundings, he saw that it must have come in from another angle, down the side of a nearby apartment complex.

"Damn it, they just keep on coming!" remarked Catwoman.

Ahead of them was a chasm, but a much narrower one. This time what was beyond the chasm posed the problem. It was a steep, angling alley, which the costumed immediately recognized as belonging to the Gotham Insurance Building.

The buildings seemed to be converging, the alley becoming narrower. The Batmobile streaked down it as if running a gauntlet. Directly behind him raced three cars: Two red-and-black pursuit vehicles, and Two-Face’s own armoured car.

And Batman was running not only out of luck but out of options. Directly ahead was a big fat dead end. A huge mural on the side of a giant building.

"He probably always wanted to make a big splash on the art scene," grinned Two-Face sadistically. And then, into the microphone, he snapped, "Cook him!"

From the pursuit cars emerged oddly-shaped cannons which, instants later, discharged their payload. Massive fireballs blossomed forth like lethal flowers. They roared toward the Batmobile.

Within the cockpit, Batman rapidly ran through his options and narrowed them to two, unless he ruled out dying, in which event he was down to one, but Catwoman had an idea of her own. She took it and hit a button on the dash.

A tiny hood-hatch blew off, shooting a Bat-grapple high into the air. The grapple grabbed the neck of a giant stone gargoyle atop the roof of the mural building. A powerful hood-winch was activated, gripping a powerful cable in the car’s front, and the Batmobile was jerked vertical. He drove the powerful car straight up the side of the building.

The two foremost cars slammed into the side of the mural, arriving just seconds after the fireballs they had launched. A second later the ruptured gas tanks fed the fireballs, inflating them to massive proportions. The drivers were thrown clear.

Two-Face’s armoured vehicle skidded to a halt barely inches away from the mural. He stepped out and, surrounded by licking flames, watching the Batmobile driving up the wall of the alley. 

As Batman drove the Batmobile up towards the roof of the building, he turned to the left to see on goers in their apartments, some were surprised, a few were baffled and plenty was in awe. Batman's stoic look remained as Catwoman covered her grin, struggling internally not to laugh at the civilians reacting to the bizarre sight. 

As the Batmobile vanished into the darkness, Two-Face screamed his rage into the night. The image of the bat symbol burned into his mind, and in his imagination, it was surrounded by flames.

Damn them! Damn them to hell!

---

Edward Nygma was typing away at something on his laptop, his mind heavily focused on the latest project after being inspired by Two-Face's circus crashing, and he thought he would come with the list of names he made to showcase which one was suitable for his alter-ego. 

On the laptop screen, it showed a photo of the statue of Michelangelo's David on what looked like an enhanced version of photoshop, as Edward clicked the mouse and dragged a full headshot photo of himself and placed it to cover the statue's head. 

Edward clicked on the first thing he could come up with, as the photoshop model loaded up what looked like a long white coat with a matching hat, holding a dictionary in place of the statue.

"The Puzzler," guessed Edward.

The Guesser animatronic pointed its finger to a red light bulb that labeled 'NO', with a failed electronic sound effect that followed. Edward clicked next, and the first costume idea was then replaced with what appeared to be a giant chess piece encasing the model inside. 

"The Gamester," he grinned. 

The dummy made the same result as before. Edward clicked next again, this time the model was dressed in an army survival outfit, complete with camo pants, machine guns, a shotgun, and even a bandana.

"Captain Kill?" he guessed again. 

The dummy pointed 'NO' for the third time. Edward moved on to the next costume if anyone can call it that. It was basically a bright green sandwich board with a question mark on the front, added with trainers and a flashy, 80s style headband.

"Question Mark Man?" said Edward, typing a key. It didn't respond, which annoyed him as he pressed the key again, gritting his teeth. 

The animatronic flashed a green question mark bulb twice, and Edward sighed, placing his hands on his face as he was about to run out of names and costume ideas. He turned his head to the dummy when it made a maddening, electronic laugh. Edward then had an idea the longer he stared at the dummy and flashing the green bulb rapidly. The green with black question marks all over with a matching bowl, his eyes widen in joy when he finally put the two and two together. 

"Thank you, thank you very much!" thanked Edward happily, typing away at his laptop with a wide smile on his face as he gleefully made the finishing touches. 

A/N: And that's another done. First off, to all you faithful readers out there who patiently waited for this chapter, and I'm so sorry for leaving it in the dust, not only because I suffered a long case of writer's block, but also the fact that all the stories I've worked hard and posted on fanfiction.net had been removed all thanks to the admins and a certain activist group who think they run the site. Yes, if any of you are familiar with Critics United, they're responsible for removing my fanfic.net account, and the admins running the site had done nothing about it and let these fucking lunatics run wild. Because of their ruthless, dismissive attitude towards talented writers there, I've decided I'm not gonna post any of my work there ever again. If they continue to treat writers that way with their careless, self-righteous attitude, thinking they run the site, what exactly are they gonna do when writers all decided to pack that site in and over here as their mainstay? What are they gonna do, apart from talentless trolls who write the most pointless disgusting pieces of crap that ever existed, and yet, these Critics United assholes complained and bitched about them breaking their so-called "rules" that they've made up, banning and removing writers that are so much better and talented than them, taking away stories and forcing them to rewrite certain scenes like sex and violence and certain bits that they deemed unfit, thinking they actually own our stories! Yeah, says the hypocrites who want to remove sex scenes and keep the disgusting rape scenes... 

I sincerely hope this group doesn't believe in karma, because one of these days, it will come around to strike at them when they least expect it. When that day comes, I'm gonna enjoy every single moment of it. As the old saying goes, what goes around, comes around.

Because of these Critic United nonces, they're gonna be the reason why fanfic.net is going down the shitter, and it's gonna be filled with trolls lurking about and only themselves "running" the site with every talent authors abandoning ship, and they'll wonder why A03 is slowly becoming the number 1 site in terms of fanfics. 

So yeah, because of them, I'm more or less done with fanfiction.net. I've made a new account under the OneUniverse2.0 name only for reading other fics to give me ideas and inspiration, but I'm not posting any of my work there anymore. A03 is where I'm posting most of my fics now, and all I have to say, thank goodness there's no Critics United on this site. If there were any activist groups of any kind lurking about here, the admins would shut them down immediately, something the fanfic.net admin pricks had failed to do. 

Critics United, the fanfiction.net admins, along with the site owner, Xing Li, can all kindly go fuck themselves.

Anyway, with that out of the way, I hope you have enjoyed the long-awaited latest chapter of the Batman Forever rewrite, and I have to admit, it took me awhile for us to finish it. The circus scene was a challenge, and the Selina/Chase scene was a constant struggle, as it's the reason why I kept delaying it, lol. I hope you enjoy seeing Selina exploring her sexuality with Chase. Now that Dick Grayson has entered the picture, we'll have to see where it takes and how Bruce and Selina will show him the light into not killing anyone out of revenge. 

Again, I hope you all enjoyed the latest chapter, and I hope we don't take long with the next one without any writer's block this time. 

Peace!

Chapter 5: Brain on the Box, Joy Ride

In the stone bowels of an ancient support arch near the Gotham Bridge, Two-Face stewed in his hideout.

The décor of the place was suitably unique. It was split right down the middle. On the left half, the décor was one extreme, cheerful, upbeat, with a look and style that seemed straight out of a 1950s sitcom. Simple mahogany furniture, pleasant orange shag carpeting, cheerful wallpaper with little flowers on it.

On the right-hand side, it was a stroll down memory lane, if one’s memories happened to be those of a porn star or sexual deviant. Everything, everywhere, was black. Black leather stretched over black metal. Chains hung down, and there was a thick stench of something unpleasant burning. Whips, hooks, and studded collars decorated the walls and harsh lighting flickered overhead.

On each side of the room, there was a woman preparing a meal. They were dressed according to the theme and mood of the respective rooms.

Two-Face wasn’t paying them much mind. Instead, he was staring into space, still fuming over his botched attempt in killing Batman and Catwoman once again.

"The Bat and the Cat’s stubborn refusal to expire," Two-Face angrily murmured to himself. "IS DRIVING US INSANE!" he snapped suddenly.

He stuck a cigarette in the left side of his mouth. A delicate hand offered flame from a silver lighter. It belonged to the woman from the cheerier side of the room. She was dressed in a lacy outfit that displayed her to her best advantage. Next to her was a rolling cloth-covered table bearing a closed silver service and white, hand-tapered candles.

Two-Face then shoved a cigar into the right side of his mouth. A small blowtorch flared, lighting it up. The torch was wielded by another woman, her blonde hair curled and moussed as compared to the around-the-shoulders, gentle look of her counterpart. And whereas the other’s outfit was airy lace, this one was clad in black leather and spike heels. She likewise had a rolling table with food, but it was of butcher block, with a pit of coals searing a twitching lobster.

The former was Sugar.

The latter was Spice.

"Don't worry, baby," cooed Sugar.

"You'll kill 'em soon," added Spice. 

"Besides, I made your favourite tonight," smirked Sugar, walking to the table to add an extra sway of her hips. "Sparking champagne, yummy poached salon with little itty-bitty quail eggs and creamy... Dreamy... lemon souffle." she finished with a purr.

"No, I made your favourite," Spice butted in. "A charred heart of black boar, a side of raw donkey meat, and a Steno and grain alcohol, straight up, baby!"

Two-Face rose and stepped over to her cart, examining it, and Sugar approvingly. Interest piqued, he stepped over to the other side, moving with Spice toward her rolling cart. His mood with her altered completely.

"Perfect!" grinned Two-Face maniacally. "Ladies, you spoil us! We're of two minds about what to eat first."

Whilst Two-Face and the women were distracted with the food on the table, a mysterious individual strolled into the room. He was clad in a lime green leotard covered with question marks, and a similarly patterned green jacket over it. He wore a green eye mask, a bowl hat, and he was twirling a cane with a large question mark for a handle with his hand. 

He raised the cane before slamming it on the floor with a loud, echoing thunk. Two-Face quickly turned around where the sound came from and there was someone at the other end of the room. 

"I hope you made extra," remarked the mystery person.

"Who the hell are you!?" demanded Two-Face.

"Just a friend, but you can call me..." he paused for a suitably dramatic effect, stepping into the light to reveal himself in his full glory. "...the Riddler!"

Two-Face then sprinted forward and grabbed the Riddler, slamming him hard into the wall.

"We’ll call you dead, more like it!" barked Two-Face. "How’d you find us? Talk!"

"If then I talked," the Riddler, not fazed by Two-Face's demands. "What would keep you from slaying me, O' Segergated One? By the way, that's never going to heal of you don't stop picking."

Two-Face was in no mood for games. He whipped out his gun from the inside of his jacket pocket to point it at the Riddler.

"Let's see if you bleed green," growled Two-Face.

"Harvey!" The Riddler giggled a high-pitched laugh. It was hard to tell whether it was from nervousness or simple glee over Two-Face’s ire. "I don't think it's me you wanna kill. That's just too easy for someone as powerful as you and... you. But Batman and Catwoman, there's a challenge. Kill them both! Sound's like a good idea."

The Riddler brought his hands up in front of an exposed light bulb, interlacing his fingers and making an up-and-down, flapping motion. Despite his fury, Two-Face looked away long enough to see what the Riddler was up to. And what he saw, on the wall, was a shadow puppet of a bat.

"But have you thought it through?" asked the Riddler in a tone that was both conversational and yet somehow seductive. "A few bullets, a splash of blood, then what? Wet hands. Post-homicidal depression..."

Two-Face couldn't help but shudder that what the Riddler implied. Going through with all of that after killing the annoying Bat and the Cat? As much as he would rather die than having to live through that, but the man in green does have a point. 

Sugar and Spice look on, intrigued at what the Ridder was giving to Harvey. Sure, he was easy on the eyes, and somewhat nice looking, but not up to Two-Face's level. 

"Why not humiliate them first?" the Riddler suggested. "Expose their frailties. Then, when they're at their weakest, CRUSH THEM!" he yelled with the snap of his fingers. 

As he spoke, Two-Face slowly lowered his gun, listening to what the Riddler had to say. The Riddler, for his part, wove a spell of words. He grinned at what he was applying, and from the sound of it, it sounds like a hell of a plan to take them down with that strategy. 

"I see that sparkle in your left eye," grinned the Riddler. "I can help you get Batman and Catwoman. That is if you'll spare my life for just a few moments."

Two-Face put the words into consideration, before shugging his shoulders. He lowered his gun and released the Ridder, who felt much relieved that his life was not threatened and his plans not ending before they even got started. He brushed off the creases of his jacket. 

"Thank you," whispered the Riddler gratefully, then moved quickly to examine the hideout, studying it.

"I simply love what you've done with this place," the Riddler commented, looked to the left and then right, saying respectively, "Heavy Metal meets House and Garden."

He laughed as he twirled his cane, chucking it away.

"Beautiful," he grinned, removing the bowl hat to reveal his new, bright red haircut. "It's so dark and Gothic and disgustingly decadent."

The Riddler brought out two identical, oddly shaped devices that he let on the far table upon arrival. They were like two cones attached to each other with see-through green acrylic triangular pieces stuck together. 

He placed one device on the table before waving his finger to direct Spice to come over there. 

"Yet so bright and chipper and," the Ridder continued, putting another on the other end of the room. "Conservative." 

He put his fingers in his mouth to let out a loud whistle, which Sugar swayed over to.

"It's so you!" the Riddler grinned, moving next to Two-Face.  "And yet so you! Very few people are both a summer and a winter, but," he paused before bumping his fist against Two-Face's shoulder. "You pull it off nicely." he complimented. 

Two-Face scuffed before aiming the gun to shoot a single bullet to the ceiling. The Riddler almost cringed at the deafening noise.

"What's the point, big boy?" questioned Two-Face.

The Riddler took a deep breath, teeth-gritting with a question that no one had ever told him, but it needed to be said. There he was, proposing a possible alliance with him, then he has to shoot randomly out of the blue. Talk about too trigger happy.

"Has anyone ever told you, you have a SERIOUS IMPULSE CONTROL PROBLEM!?" the Riddler suddenly shouted.

That question caused Two-Face to point his gun at him with fire in his eyes. The Riddler reached for his jacket and removed a receiver from it. 

"This is the point," the Riddler said, holding it out invitingly.

He pointed it at Sugar and pressed the button. The oddly shaped device sprung to life, and the light was shining a bright green, producing mini green lightning bolts and the triangular bits were rotating in a circle with a green beam arching out of the machine. Automatically, she turned and glanced at what looks like a holographic TV screen showing an old episode of the Looney Tunes with Elmar Fudd in a set of little white angel wings.

The Riddler now pointed the receiver to Spice, who found herself in the same predicament, the only difference is that the holographic screen displaying another Looney Tunes episode, showing Sylvester in hell. 

Two-Face stared at them, not understanding what he was seeing. If he’d truly cared anything for them, of course, he would have shouted in protest, yanked them out of the way. Tried, in some way, to spare them whatever it was they were going through. Such was not the case, and instead, he merely watched, transfixed.

"This is how I found you," explained the Riddler, waving his receiver. "Let me demonstrate."

The Riddler brought the device up to Two-Face's forehead experimentally...

...and the world was suddenly open to him.

The receiver released two sets of green beams that lit across two separate directions. One linking to Sugar, and the other connecting Spice, turning Two-Face into a living, breathing TV signal. 

"This is your brain on the Box," philosophized the Riddler, pulling it away from Two-Face, who gasped at the separation. "This is my brain on the Box."

He put it to his own brain, soaking in the rush of accelerated neural pathways, not to mention the sensual awareness of the women.

"Does anybody else feel like a fried egg!?" he shouted.

"I'll have a bit more, thank you," Two-Face reached out, but the Ridder pulled it away from his head.

"Oh there's more," The Riddler waggled a finger at him. "But only the first one's free. But here's the bargain."

He held up his index finger to which Two-Face was now fully listening.

"You will help me steal production capital," the Ridder conducted. "So I can put out a Box on every TV in town, and become Gotham's cleverest, carbon-based life form! And in return..."

He looked over to Two-Face, and knew straight away he has full attention, and somewhat still reluctant, but a little persuasion wouldn't hurt. 

"Is everybody paying attention?" the Riddler asked no one in particular. "I will help you solve the greatest riddle of all. The mother of all riddles: Who is Batman?"

Two-Face eyed the Riddler, interest dawning. He was tempted, beyond tempted to just take this offer, form an alliance with him and vanish the Bat and the Cat from the face of this earth. However, he found an impulse to kill him. After all, he did break into his hiding place. His fingers itching for the coin.

"You broke into our hideout," murmured Two-Face. "You violated the sanctity of our lair. For this, we should crush your bones into powder. However, you pose an interesting proposition," He held out his coin. "Therefore heads: we accept. And tails: we blow your goddamn head off."

He flipped it with his thumb, which made the Ridder's heart almost stop. He had forgotten to take Two-Face’s madness into account. He cursed bitterly to himself. All the potential that was riding on this new identity, this new business venture.

And it depended on the toss of a coin.

They watched the coin arced through the air before landing on Two-Face's open palm.

---

In the Gotham Diamond Exchange, Two-Face’s thugs were hurriedly scooping out handfuls of gems from glass cases and shoving them into bags. Nearby, the Riddler and Two-Face stood over a pallet of black jeweler’s felt, which was littered with bright, sparkling diamonds. The Riddler slipped on a magnifying monocle and lifted a gem to study it more closely.

Two-Face grabbed the rest of the pallet and upended it, pouring the diamonds into a loot bag. The Riddler looked at the rather uneven distribution of wealth.

"One for me, one hundred for you!" the Riddler grinned, but then he saw Two-Face’s glare and, rather than risk another toss of that damned coin, simply shrugged. "Sounds fair to me."

As the Batsignal flared in the sky, the party moved across town.

In the Gotham Casino, the guards were struggling with Two-Face’s thugs, but they were sorely outnumbered. 

"Don't shoot me, please!" begged the cashier.

"Don't eyeball me! Gimme that!" snarled the thug, snatching some money from the poor guy's hands.

Two-Face strode over to them, surveying them thoughtfully, and then he gestured to the Riddler. Curious, the Riddler joined him, while the rest of the thugs relieved the patrons of their jewels and cash.

"Hey, Two-Face, show me how to punch a guy!" said the Riddler.

"You wanted to get into crime," said Two-Face. "Time to get seriously into it." He held up his hand. "Close your fist. Reach back."

Then he swung suddenly, smashing one of the guards in the face. The guard went down, unconscious. Two-Face then turned to the Riddler, who looked a little pale. "Get it?"

"That looks like fun," the Ridder grinned, then stepped up to the next guard, jumping up and down like an overexcited little kid. "Lemme try lemme try!"

He closed his fist, cocked it, and slammed it into the guard’s face with all the power and destructive force of a bag of rice cakes.

"Ow!" exclaimed the Riddler, clutching his hand in pain.

Moments later, Two-Face’s car was speeding away. With Two-Face at the wheel, the Riddler counting the stack of money, wearing a crown over his head.

"One hundred thousand, two hundred and twenty. One hundred and..." he paused for a brief second. "I lost count!"

He chucked the money over his shoulder, laughing gleefully.

---

Batman’s eyes narrowed as the flashing sign 'Crime in Progress' flashed on his tactical screen. His own position was marked on the map and he was drawing closer with every passing second.

It was an upscale neighborhood, exactly the type of place that Two-Face and his bizarre new cohort were likely to strike.

Still, something seemed a little off. But he couldn’t take the time to figure out precisely what it was. He had the feed from police headquarters, and that was all he needed.

The Batmobile rolled up to the service entrance of the building where the crime was reported. Batman and Catwoman wasted no time, charging up the stairs and smashing in through the door.

There was a collective shriek from within.

Batman and Catwoman stood in the middle of the "Curl Up and Dye" beauty salon, which was open late night since it was Friday. He looked around for the source of the disturbance. Unfortunately, the only one who fit that description was him. The women didn’t seem particularly upset, though. After their initial astonishment, both beauticians and customers started babbling excitedly, crowding in around Batman, laughing and flirting.

Behind his mask, Batman fumed.

He wasn’t certain which annoyed him more: that he had not gotten his hands on his target, or the kind of field day that the media was going to have with this. Catwoman left the salon through the front door, gritting her teeth together as she tried to resist the urge to slam it shut behind herself in frustration. 

She unwrapped her whip from her frame. 

"Damn it!" growled Catwoman, flicking her whip at the nearest trash can in anger that resulted in a loud, audible clang.

---

"...with millions in diamonds, cash, and personal effects stolen," said the newscaster. "While, bizarrely, Batman and Catwoman chose to make an appearance in a crosstown beauty parlor."

With the late morning sun flooding in through their window, Bruce Wayne adjusted his tie with Selina Kyle sitting on the edge of the bed, buttoning her blouse with Miss Kitty curled up next to her while the morning news aired. He shook his head, and her expression was an unreadable one, but deep down she wanted to tear her hair out at such a lousy report. 

"Witnesses clearly identified Two-Face as the perpetrator and mastermind behind the robbery," continued the newscaster. "However, this station has learned exclusively that Two-Face has a new partner, who phoned earlier with the following message."

A graphic of a question mark appeared on the screen.

"Blame Two-Face?" crowed the Riddler's voice. "I demand equal acclaim for my offenses. Recognition for my wrongdoings. Credit for my crimes. Gotham has a new bad boy in town and his name is the Riddler!"

The newscaster came back on.

"The caller then described several pieces taken in the heist that police confirmed were on a list not released to the public," added the newscaster. "At this stage, therefore, it would seem that Two-Face has now decided, appropriately, that two heads are better than one."

Alfred entered Bruce and Selina’s bedroom, carrying coffee and the morning mail. He shook his head at the news report before turning to Bruce.

"Apparently, you and Batman have a common enemy," informed Alfred, handing the envelope to Bruce, the style of which he’d come to recognize. "That's with the morning mail."

This one, however, had postmarks on it. Unfortunately, it was postmarked Romania, and Sioux City, Iowa. Selina stood up and glanced at the green letter.

"Great, another one," groaned Selina, rolling her eyes. "Anything else he likes to throw at?"

"He’s getting more ambitious," said Bruce. "Either that or he’s just getting stranger and stranger."

Alfred nodded deferentially. "I bow to your expertise on that, sir."

Bruce glanced suspiciously at the butler, whose face remained unreadable.

In the depths of the Batcave, Bruce stood over the assorted riddles that he had received. Selina was next to him, her hand on his shoulder as they watch Alfred open up another pop-up book, this time it was miniature sets of cardboard cutouts of medieval knights, armed with swords with an offset look of a futuristic city behind them. 

"The eight of us go forth, not back, to protect our King from a foe's attack," read Alfred.

"Pawns," said Selina with a slight smile, removing her glasses. "Eight pieces of pawns out of a chess game."

Bruce nodded, his mind taking back to the first two riddles. "A clock, a match, and pawns." he started to tick off the other answers on his fingers. "All physical objects man-made."

"Small in size, light in weight," said Alfred.

"Time. Fire. Battle strategy," He shook his head, the stream of consciousness not getting him anywhere. "What’s the connection?"

"With all due respect, sir, I think that’s why they call him the Riddler," concluded Alfred.

"No success with the riddles," sighed Selina. "No success with the Prototype either."

Alfred, in the meantime, was looking at a computer simulation of a screaming bat, part of the programming tied in with the project that Bruce, Selina, and Alfred had simply come to refer to as "the Prototype."

"I see you’ve apparently gotten the new radar modification running," said Alfred. He stood and straightened his jacket. "I still doubt it will work."

"That’s what you said about the Batmobile." He studied the forensic evidence the computer was giving him on the screen. Selina reached into a drawer and pulled out a newly purchased Box. With all of Edward Nygma’s talk of brain manipulation, she was curious to see whether this so-called toy, which was selling briskly everywhere in Gotham, was more than it seemed.

---

In the combination garage and gym in Wayne Manor’s west wing, Bruce entered to find Dick Grayson pummeling a straw-filled action dummy. Immediately he noticed the modifications that Dick had made to the dummy. He had drawn in a face on the dummy’s head, a smiley face. 

But there was a vertical line bisecting it. The left half of the face was smiling, while the right half was sneering, with a grossly distorted eye, mouth, and fangs.

Dick paused, clearly waiting for Bruce to make some comment. This, of course, Bruce didn’t do. Instead, he turned to Dick and said approvingly, in reference to the motorcycle that the youth had been working on, "I just started the Black Knight. She sounds great. Why don’t you grab the Harley and we’ll take a ride?"

With a sigh, Dick lowered his arms from the cocked and punching position. 

"Look, man, I appreciate the gig, but let’s leave it at that," Dick dismissed, he didn’t sound angry or arrogant, merely resigned, and even sad. "We’re not gonna be buddies, okay? You don’t even know me."

"I know the pain that’s with you every day," said Bruce in a very mild tone. "The shame. Feeling somehow you should have saved them. I don’t know you," he agreed. "But I'm like you."

Dick shrugged in that way that only youths could and started pounding on the dummy again. It shuddered slightly under each thrust. Bruce watched him and then said, "Have you thought about your future? The Wayne Foundation has an excellent scholarship fund. Once the bikes are finished-"

With an impatient noise, Dick grabbed a copy of the Gotham Times that he’d tossed on the floor. He thrust the paper into Bruce’s face, and Two-Face’s image glowered back at him from the cover.

"He’s my future," whispered Dick harshly, his teeth gritting on edge.

"Don’t let your love, your passion for your family, twist into hatred of Two-Face. It’s too easy," Bruce shook his head sadly. 

"Look, no offense, man. But I don’t think you’ve got a lot to teach me."

Bruce raised an eyebrow and then stepped in front of the dummy. His two left hooks rattled the dummy with ear-shattering impact. His right took off the dummy’s head. Dick gaped at the two-faced stuffed head lying on the ground, rolling gently from side to side.

"Don’t be so sure," Bruce informed him.

Half an hour later after Bruce and Selina left the mansion to go and see Chase, Dick knew there was something going on. But he didn’t know what.

He wandered the mansion, encountering rooms that he hadn’t stumbled over even in all the weeks he’d been there. On the basis of the house’s immensity, it wasn’t unreasonable that Bruce, Selina, and Alfred would occasionally vanish into it, sometimes for hours at a time, it seemed.

And yet, there's something going on.

Dick wandered into the study. The place was as huge and intimidating as anywhere else in the joint. And the design was eclectic. Sky-high bookshelves, but with a grandfather clock, of all things, sandwiched between two of them. Tropical fish. Trophies. Pictures.

Pictures, over on the mantel. That, in fact, did catch Dick’s interest. He walked over and stared at the photos. 

There was a kid who he guessed was Brucie as a boy. Brucie Wayne. Now there was a strange case. At first he’d been prepared to write Wayne off as just some do-gooder rich man, taking pity on the kid who’d been rude enough to become an orphan in his presence. An airhead, trying to pretend that he was Dick’s pal without the faintest idea of what was going through the kid’s mind.

But his opinion had shifted. He just wasn’t certain what it had shifted to. It was clear that there was something going on in Wayne’s head but damned if he could tell what it was.

There was a photograph of a couple of other people who Dick knew were Bruce’s parents. He was aware they had died a while back because he’d made a joke about Bruce "losing his parents" somewhere in the endless corridors of Wayne Manor. Bruce had grimaced slightly, and Alfred had taken Dick aside and told him simply that Bruce’s parents were indeed deceased some years back. It was apparently a sore subject and, in one of his few moments of sincerity, Dick promised not to bring it up again.

He looked around the study and confirmed what he’d suspected. There was no other exit from the place. This struck him as particularly odd because the other day he’d been looking around the empty study. He’d walked out, but hadn’t gotten twenty feet when he’d heard a faint clanging of some sort from within the study.

"May I help you, Master Dick?" called a voice from behind. Dick turned around to see Alfred walking down the main staircase with the morning paper in hand.

"How come this is the only locked door in this museum?" asked Dick, pointing the door behind him with his thumb. "What have you got back there?"

"Master Wayne's dead wives," grinned the butler before changing the subject. "The sliver closet, on your way." 

Realizing there's no point in arguing with him, Dick decided to forget about it for now. He looked back at the door with a puzzled stare, now more determined to find out what's exactly behind it. 

And he will get to the bottom of it.

---

Ten miles southeast of Gotham, on Claw Island, Edward Nygma stood over the production process that had just begun to swing into high gear. It was fully automated, robot arms assembling the boxes, descending claws, and high-speed machines loading them into boxes to be shipped to waiting customers.

Mere weeks ago the place had looked about as promising as a crater on the moon. Yet there Nygma now was, standing in front of the main building, with a huge sign that read "NYGMATECH" being raised into place by a crane. A sort of final crowning glory.

There was a press conference conducting in front of the industrialized building, and it was about the unveiling of Edward's latest invention, the Box.

"Now you can be part of the action!" Nygma was proclaiming to the press and onlookers. "Nygmatech brings the joy of 3D entertainment into your living room! Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you my vision." He brought out the Box, holding it up in the air with two hands for Gotham to see. "‘The Box’ in every home in America. And one day, the world!"

The next night, a mass of electronic stores around Gotham was packed full of people, waiting in line not so patiently to barge themselves in to order a fresh stack of the Box.

"In local news," announced a newscaster on the radio. "Edward Nygma's 3D Box has become the rage in Gotham. Rioting occurred last night at electronic stores which were sold out. There's hardly a home without the Nygma tech box. Critics have claimed the Box turns Gothamites into zombies. But Edward Nygma just shrugs; 'That's what they said when TV was invented.'" 

All over Gotham from every living room, every civilian was transfixed to their TV screens, staring at the dancing holographic images and letting their neural waves be sucked out through the receiver in the Box. And in turn, they would be beamed through dazzling green light off the coast to Claw Island. There, the industrial building where Nygma held a conference, was now lit up bright green. The upper section of the building was a gigantic version of the Box, the pulsing spider antenna, jutting from the dome tip of Nygmatech that was already powered up and ready for business. The lower section had a sphere-like dome that was lit up in bright green from the inside. 

Inside the building what appears to be the main room, was a massive circular room with green lights shining brightly at the center. There was the Riddler, sitting on what looks like an electronic throne, eyes rolling to the back of the head, agiant diode delivering pulses of glowing neural energy into his brain.

Ever since he could remember, dealing with the mundanities of the world had been a drain on his genius and ability. But finally, finally, finally, he was going to turn it around. He was going to drain them, get back what they had taken from him. The great gestalt of the city’s mind would be laid bare to him, and he would skim through it, take what he wanted, leave the rest behind.

"Sssssomebody stop me!" shouted Nygma in glorious celebration, spread wide his arms.

---

Alfred emerged from the room where the locked door was, looking around the main hall as to where Dick was. Remembering hours ago when he came down the stairs to see the youngster who tried to open the door to the Batcave, he sighed. He had no idea where he could be was the last time he had seen him, but the boy's determination somewhat reminded him of Bruce when he was his age. But then, a little persuasion and a little push wouldn't hurt.

"Master Dick!" called Alfred.

"Up here, Al!" replied Dick from above.

He looked up at where the youth was, and he was at the 2nd balcony of the mansion. He couldn't help but smile seeing how excited his ward was. The man knew that this would have been a difficult task for even Dick, but with the help of some extra motivation, it seemed like the young man had gotten the job done. 

"Just checking, young sir," said the butler, before walking back to where he came from. 

Dick had a sudden impulse as he watched Alfred walk back into the room, leaving the door open. His was bouncing on impulse as if waiting for the right moment. He was curious. He wanted to know what was on the other side of that door. It could be anything! Or even something else! He waited for Alfred to step out of his view to leave the door wide open until he shouted; "Now!"

He jumped over the balcony and years of acrobatics training kicked in. He landed onto the support beam before leaping to the chandelier hanging above the hall. He caught the metal frame easily as he hung there for a moment letting the exhilaration take over as he watched the door that was about to close shut. He swung his body using the frame with both hands before he flipped backwards over to the curtain rail and dropped down, landing lightly on the flight of stairs.

Dick watched from the corner of his eye and saw the door was inches away from being shut. He jumped over to the lampost that was at the bottom to swing his legs over, using his full height and when he did, his fingers slipped. He yelped as he felt himself falling to the floor. He crashed to the floor and slid through the door and into a small room full of ornaments and other decorations. He slid onto the shelf full of metal silver tankards, goblets, and cutlery, but he hadn't stopped as he expected. Instead, it opened sideways like a door as Dick continued to slide through that caused the objects to topple over. He found himself falling down a set of rocky stairs that sent him downwards before he finally made contact with the ground. 

"Intruder alert. Intruder alert." droned a computerized voice that echoed through the foundations of the cave. 

Dick groaned in pain as he pushed himself onto his elbows before he looked around. The place appeared to be a large, underground cavern that was filled with machinery and equipment. He knitted his brows in confusion, then he watched a rotating platform going upwards slowly, carrying the Batmobile that was rotating above it. 

He then finally put the two and two together.

Bruce Wayne is Batman... And Selina Kyle is Catwoman...

Dick had figured it out in no time flat. If the computers, the equipment, and the entire incredible setup weren’t enough, certainly the cape that Bruce had left draped over a chair was sufficient tip-off, along with the neatly wrapped whip that Selina left laying on the console.

He looked straight ahead, and there was Alfred, standing on the catwalk to the Batmobile platform, looking at the youth with an unreadable expression on his face.

Dick couldn't help but grin from ear to ear and greeted the butler with an awkward wave.

---

Chase Meridian’s apartment was cramped and cluttered. Bruce and Selina had wedged themselves through the boxes after Chase let him in, having to take a deep breath now and then to fit past. Chase had already gone back to the kitchen, skillfully maneuvering the obstacle course. 

"It must be difficult to live out of half-empty boxes," Bruce said.

Looking into a pot of boiling macaroni, she replied, "Now that’s psychologically intriguing. Why don’t you call them ‘half-full’ boxes?"

"Because from an unpacking point of view, it’s more depressing that way," Selina admitted.

Chase considered that. "Okay. I’ll give you that one. I just try not to think about it at all."

Looking into a pot of boiling macaroni, she replied, "Now that’s psychologically intriguing. Why don’t you call them ‘half-full’ boxes?"

"Because from an unpacking point of view, it’s more depressing that way," Selina admitted.

Chase considered that. "Okay. I’ll give you that one. I just try not to think about it at all."

"I could have guessed that," Bruce said.

"Find a spot and clear it off. I’ll have food up in five minutes. I’ll have you know spaghetti is my specialty," the blonde psychologist said archly.

"How did that get to be your specialty?" he asked.

"Because I can’t cook anything else."

While Bruce and Selina were in the kitchen to prepare themselves, Selina found herself staring at her. Memories from her appointment with the Doctor had sent her into a blushing mess. The way she had flirted with her, her foot massages, and the mind-blowing sex... She couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed it all.  Even though the doctor had been kind enough to allow Selina to use an Uber home, she was still mortified that she had allowed herself to become so taken with the therapist and enjoying it above all else, and the fact that Chase was a woman. On a side note, she had been trying her hardest not to let her PTSD kick in at any giving moment, especially when the memories of her trauma could kick in at any time when she's out fighting crime as Catwoman.  

Selina thought it best to ignore all those feelings and focus on getting better, as she shook her head to clear her thoughts and went to the kitchen to help out Bruce and Chase.

Half an hour later...

"Thanks again for dinner," said Bruce as he helped Selina and Chase clear off the dishes. He couldn’t get over how much she changed from incarnation to incarnation. This evening she’d been wearing tight jeans and an off-the-shoulder angora sweater, bearing no resemblance whatsoever to the slip-clad bag puncher, the no-nonsense shrink, or even the glamorous woman who’d sat next to him at the circus. "Also, we appreciate your advice on Dick. Can I buy you a hospital wing or something?"

Chase laughed lightly and moved toward the stove.

"Instant coffee okay?" asked the doctor politely. 

He nodded.

"I could do with one as well," noted Selina. 

Chase glanced behind the coffeepot and snapped her fingers. "Oh, that’s right. I forgot."

"Forgot—?" asked Bruce incredulously. 

She pulled out a small, gift-wrapped box and handed it to him. He turned it over curiously. 

"What’s this?" asked Bruce. 

All she did in response was smile enigmatically. So, with a shrug, Bruce opened it, and Selina felt a sudden chill down her spine. Inside was a small wicker doll. That same creepy dream doll she’d seen in Chase's office at the GCPD the other day. 

"Call it clinical intuition," Chase said. "I thought your dreams might need changing."

"That would be nice,"  said Bruce, but he didn't sound convinced. 

"And don't worry about me," insisted Selina. "This is all just part of my ongoing therapy. It'll get easier." 

Bruce looked skeptical but accepted that answer without question. Chase turned to face them. 

"Tell me," Bruce began. "What do you find more frightening? Dreaming about things that have no basis in reality, or dreaming about things that did happen?"

"No contest. The second." Bruce hesitated, staring out the window. 

Selina noticed the look of reluctance on his face. She could tell her boyfriend had almost hoped for the Batsignal to shine so that he’d have an excuse to call it an early evening, fabricate a meeting, something so that he could bolt out the door. If Bruce told the doctor what was on his mind, if he shared part of himself, split himself off, would what was leftover be half-empty? Or half-full?

Before he could decide, because he knew that if he decided, he would decide against it, he said, "My parents were murdered. In front of me. I was just a kid."

Chase nodded. She leaned back against the counter, her face was carefully composed and neutral.

"I can’t remember exactly what happened," Bruce continued. "I get flashes, in my dreams. I’d gotten... used to them. But now there’s a new element, one that I don’t understand. A book. Leather..."

He paused, more grateful having Selina next to him with her hand on his shoulder to provide comfort, and Chase guessed to keep him talking. "There’s something else?"

He nodded. "The dreams have started coming when I’m awake."

Chase took all that in, considering her next words carefully. "Bruce," she prompted gently. "You’re describing repressed memories. Images of some forgotten pain trying to surface. It-"

The phone rang, interrupting her.

"Damn," swore Chase. "I'll be right back."

With that, she disappeared into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind her. 

Bruce and Selina were left alone in the room, looking at a round table covered with scattered papers and files. There were the first two files he picked up off the floor were about Batman and Catwoman. As were the next five. Articles, news photos, clippings. He glanced up and, to his shock, the interior of the desk was lined with stuff—all of it, regarding Batman and Catwoman. Every bit of printed material known to mankind about his costumed alter ego was adorning the desk of Dr. Chase Meridian.

It gave the couple an uncomfortable flashback to Edward Nygma’s wall of adoration to Bruce Wayne. 

At that moment, Selina’s hand tightened around Bruce’s forearm. He turned to see the look of concern on her face, and then she whispered, "Maybe this isn't a good idea after all."

The billionaire shook his head and set aside the file about Catwoman. Why couldn’t they have the right people obsessed with the right aspects of his life? Nygma adored Wayne, Chase was hung up on Batman and Catwoman. Perhaps Edward and Chase should get together and move to a house in Cape Cod, and leave Bruce and Selina alone with his empty house, his business, and his spiraling-out-of-control delusions.

Chase returned from her bedroom, and looked at Bruce, trying to turn matters back to business.

"Is it possible there’s an aspect of your parents’ death you haven’t faced? You were so young," she pressed, but she saw that neither Bruce nor Selina were listening, and then she turned and saw what he was staring at.

"Is that the ‘other people,’ Doctor?" Selina asked stiffly.

"Please, Selina, don’t change the subject. I want to help," replied the psychiatrist firmly.

"I’d say all this goes a little beyond taking your work home," Bruce joined in. 

"All right," Chase sighed in frustration. "They're fascinating. Clinically. Why does a man do," She put her fingers up at the sides of her head, imitating the bat ears. "This?"

Then she studied Bruce a moment and said, "Okay, look, if you’re no longer interested in discussing yourself, you want to help me try and dissect Batman and Catwoman? It’ll be challenging. You may even find out something about yourself."

"Now, that would be a treat," deadpanned Bruce. "And maybe you’ll find out something, too."

Selina chuckled. "So are we going to play the long game, Dr. Meridian?"

The blonde psychologist smiled at her. "Of course. Do you know who this leads to?"

They exchanged a glance. They both knew the answer, but Chase chose to her desk and boot up her computer. 

"We’ll screen some news footage first," said Chase, keying up a CD ROM file on her computer.

"Of what?" asked Bruce. 

"Of Batman and Catwoman in combat."

"Batman and Catwoman fighting," grinned Selina, made a production of yawning. "Been there. Done that."

Ignoring her comments, Chase brought the first footage up on the screen. Bruce and Selina watched and, more precisely, watched her watching.

"Look at the abuse they're taking," Chase observed. "He’s not just fighting crime. It’s as they're paying some great penance. What crime could they have committed to deserve a life of nightly torture?"

Bruce hit a key, blanking the screen. "So, Batman and Catwoman have lousy lives. Is that your diagnosis, Doctor?"

Selina had grabbed Bruce's hand and started to turn away, almost dragged him across the room, but Chase halted them by grabbing his hand as if grasping a life preserver. "Why do you throw up that superficial mask? I want to be close but you won’t let me near. What are you two protecting me from?"

Both Selina and Bruce looked up at Chase in surprise and confusion, but she wouldn't back down. She had them now. It was time for her to use the cards she'd been dealt, and she knew that if either one of them wanted to, there was nothing they wouldn’t do to protect their secret identities from Chase.

Bruce moved toward her and she backed up slightly. In a dark, even morbid way, he found that amusing. He’d made a similar movement towards her once as Batman, and she’d stood her ground. But Bruce Wayne was capable of intimidating her. Selina wasn’t. She was watching it unfold with interest, intrigued by his boldness, especially the look on her beautiful face, and the way her eyes were looking at him. Her gaze never wavered, but it never quite came any closer to him. This was all new territory for both of them. Bruce wanted to take control of that unfamiliar territory, but he was also scared of losing control of it. If only she would've made that similar move as Catwoman... 

"You want to know us, Doctor?"  Bruce asked cautiously, trying hard not to let his tone betray his thoughts. It seemed like Chase hadn’t expected that kind of response. "We’re all three people. This side we show daylight. That we keep in shadow."

Chase turned to stare intently at Selina's green eyes, her body rigid with tension and her hands gripping Bruce's wrist tightly. She searched her face, and unconsciously placed her hand on the other blonde's hip. 

"That’s exactly it, Doctor," husked Selina, her lower tone that sent chills down the spine of every person within earshot. "This side is different. It makes us feel powerful, confident, confident in our strengths and our skills. It’s... It’s everything. And yet, at the same time, it doesn’t make sense. It makes us think, if we ever felt anything at all..."

Chase continued to back up and bumped against a wall. 

"Rage... Violence... Passion..." Chase whispered, her heart racing. "Awe... Desire... Wanting... Love...."

She reached up slowly and touched Bruce's face, stroking her fingers over his cheekbone, along his jawline, before moving up to his hairline where she trailed her finger down, tracing a line over his eye before grazing his lips with her for a soft kiss. Selina looked on, biting her lower lip with desire, her breath catching in her throat at Chase's tender touch. The doctor pulled back suddenly, breaking contact with Bruce. She turned her attention to Selina, who was still gazing at her with an intense look that made her stomach flutter. The blonde psychologist still hadn't realized she still has her palm on Selina's waist, pulled her to her personal space, and she felt herself growing hot and bothered as the woman's emerald eyes took hers captive. Without thinking, Chase leaned forward and softly kissed Selina on the lips. Selina reacted immediately, responding to the warm pressure of the doctor's soft lips pressed against hers. 

They didn't break away until they heard Bruce's watch beeped at him. Reluctantly, they pulled apart. Their chests heaved as they tried to catch their breath.

"Aw, come on!" yelled Selina internally. "Can't we have a moment of romance in peace without any interruptions!? It was starting to get so good!"

With a slightly strangled grunt, Bruce stepped back and raised the watch to his face. 

"Screen," he said, and the holographic watch face was replaced by the frowning face of Alfred.

"Oooh, Dick Tracy," joked Chase, looking at it with interest. "Do you have a flying platform, too?"

"Not with me," Selina smiled. "Yes, Alfred?"

"Sorry to bother you two," apologized Alfred, choosing his words carefully, aware of Chase's presence. "But I have some rather distressing news about Master Dick."

The pair now looked puzzled, their expressions mirroring each other; confusion and concern. 

"Is he all right?" Bruce with concern. 

"I’m afraid Master Dick has, um... gone traveling." Alfred finished with slight hesitation. 

"He ran away?" frowned Selina. 

"Actually, he took the car," replied Alfred.

"He boosted the Jag?" Bruce felt relief sweep over him. An A.P.B. to the cops would have the Jag located in no time, and the driver with it.

"Not the Jaguar. The other car."

"The Bentley?" He was surprised. The Bentley was more upscale, but the Jag was cooler.

"No sir!" Alfred looked ready to reach through the watch and shake his employer. "The other car!"

Then it clicked.

Bruce closed his eyes as if in pain, and all Selina could do was palm her face in her hands.

He knows. 

The boy knows who they really are. 

He had somehow found his way to the Batcave whilst they were right here with Chase trying to start a relationship, and now, it went to a screeching halt with the news of Dick discovering the cave and was now taking a joy ride in the Batmobile under their noses. 

And the day was going swimmingly too.

"Oh, you gotta be shitting me..." groaned Selina audibly, feeling another headache coming.

---

The Batmobile cruises into the center of Arkham Square, with Dick behind the wheel, who appeared to be having the time of his life.  He has a wide smile on his face and his eyes are shining as if they were about to pop out of his head. He whooped as the vehicle made a left turn, nearly sending him from the seat, grinning like an idiot. 

Around the corner, the young girl ran, with several young toughs in pursuit. She cried out for help, but no one was willing to buck the odds to come to her assistance. One guy ran off to call the cops, but the chances were that they would never get there in time.

She dashed down the alley, crying out, and then the gang caught up with her. One of them knocked her to the ground, and she cried out in supplication to the God that she was certain wasn’t listening.

And then blinding headlights framed them in the alleyway. They looked up in shock as the Batmobile rolled down the alley toward them.

"Come for a little ride in my love machine, babies?" called Dick joyously, seeing a number of women making way to the Batmobile, which skidded to a halt in front of them.

The girl almost cried with relief at the sight of the Batmobile, but her mouth was covered by the gang leader. 

"Shit, it's Batman!" cursed the leader, gritting his teeth. 

One of the women was on the hatch of the car, which it opened. Instead of either Batman or Catwoman like expected, that was a young man behind the wheel. 

"Wait a minute, that's not Batman!" exclaimed one woman in a snotty tone.

"What are you talking about?" said a baffled Dick. 

"That's Batboy!" said the other girl, making her friend next to her laugh. 

"It ain't the Bat or the Cat!" commented the leader, baffled and disappointed that it wasn't them. 

The girl in question used the distraction to her advantage to make a run from her captures. The gang chased her down the alley, which Dick pulled the lever back to make the Batmobile screech forward. He halted the vehicle in front of the wall, as Dick leaped out to spring right into the alley where the gang was terrorizing the poor girl. The alley was illuminated in a glow-in-the-dark effect, but the youth paid no attention. Right now, was to get the girl out of harm's way from these bullies. The thugs have the girl surrounded, push her back and forth between them like a rag doll.

"Hey! Hey, let her go!" shouted Dick.

The gang then turned their attention to the boy. The leader pushed the girl to a nearby goon, glaring at the person in front of them that has to go and ruin their fun. 

"Who the hell are you?" growled the leader.

"I'm Batman," replied Dick with confidence.

This caused the entire gang to laugh hysterically, but Dick remained unfazed and stood his ground.

"Look, I forgot my suit, all right?" he huffed out indignantly. 

The leader clapped his hands to signal the thugs to arm themselves. They closed on him then, one of the gang members taking the lead while another swung a length of chain.

Dick Grayson faced death.

Old news.

His hand shot out quickly and he grabbed the chain. He slammed his open palm into the face of its wielder, who went down with a cry. Then he whipped the chain into the gut of the other punk who was coming at him. Swinging the chain in a parabola to drive the others back. 

Dick swung the chain upward, catching the low rung of a fire escape ladder just as another of the punks rushed him. He yanked himself into the air, swinging on the chain and slamming a kick into his face, knocking him flat.

He turned to face the leader, He turned to face the leader, seeing that this one had taken down a number of the smaller punks already. The leader’s face split into a feral grin as he charged towards Dick. His fist coming down hard against his chin. Dick staggered backwards but didn’t fall. Instead, he raised his leg and kicked out at the man's knee before delivering a series of uppercuts to his chin. He stumbled but regained his balance quickly. Dick used the opportunity to launch a series of punches, his fist connecting solidly. One after the other, each punch coming fast and hard. The leader dodged most of them, but one did manage to land, a solid blow to his eye, sending his head snapping sideways as it struck. A loud crack echoed through the area before he fell backward onto his back.

Dick then walked to the awestruck girl, trying to get her to safety. 

"C'mon! Run!"

"Wait!" she stopped him. "Doesn't Batman ever kiss the girl?"

She pulled him by the lapels of his jacket to plant her lips onto his for a kiss. He smiled, happy to oblige. Dick pulled back, a little out of breath.

"Go," he signaled. 

She gave him a quick smirk before making a beeline.

"Thanks! You've saved my life!" she called before disappearing out of the alley out of harm's way. 

"I could definitely get into this superhero gig..." breathed Dick, grinning broadly.

The leader got to his feet, groaning in pain as his head was throbbing from the vicious punch. He glared at Dick hatefully, placing his thumb and pointy finger to each corner of his mouth to release an ear-piercing whistle. 

From all over the alley, everyone that was a member of the gang had emerged from all over. Dick spun and looked around. Did everybody in the damned neighborhood belong to this gang? Realizing that he was outnumbered and no way to take them all on at once, Dick dashed toward the other end of the alley, which was barred by a chainlink fence. He wasted no time and, with his own natural strength and a healthy dose of adrenaline. went with the instinctive move: He sought safety in height. He leaped for the chain dangling from the fire escape. Within seconds he was clambering up the rickety metal platform, making for the safety of a nearby rooftop.

It was a fairly good plan up until the point where more of the gang came pouring over the rooftop. Dick couldn’t believe it. He was surrounded and there was no way he could make it out alive.

Amidst the chaos, there were two silhouettes next to one another surrounded in darkness on a nearby rooftop. One shaped like a bat, and the other a cat. There was no mistake that anyone could make, every human being in Gotham can immediately recognize those shapes, and they belong to the beings that were feared by criminals and respected by those who allied with them. The leader of the gang knew who they were right away. 

"Batman!" exclaimed the leader.

"And Catwoman too!" remarked one goon in panic. 

As if on cue, Batman leaped off from the ledge to extend his cape and descended down to the ground below with Catwoman following behind him swinging down with her whip which caused the majority of the gang to flee away from the approaching vigilantes.

Dick watched from the other end of the alley, and he couldn't help but glare at Batman. Rage bubbling from the surface at how he and Catwoman hadn't told Two-Face where they were on the night his family was killed, and it just felt so fucking unfair that they would risk their lives for him when he had nothing to give them in return.

Batman made contact with the ground once the alley was clear, Dick saw red and sprinted straight for him. 

"BASTARD!!" shouted Dick, slapping and shoving at Batman in a blind fit of rage, as the Dark Knight held his left arm up to protect himself from Dick's violent fit. "IT SHOULD'VE BEEN YOU! IT'S YOUR FAULT! If you told Two-Face where you were at the circus, they'd still be alive!"

His face went red, eyes beginning to water with unshed tears. Dick continued to slam away at Batman, and at this point Batman just stood there and take it all, trying hard not to react to Dick's yelling and hitting.  The armour absorbed the impact, although not all the armour in the world could prevent the irate youth’s words from cutting him to ribbons. He kept hitting him and going at it until Catwoman had to come in to pull him off Batman. 

"Okay Dick, that's enough," scoulded Catwoman, restraining the frantic boy.

"Get off me!" shouted Dick, waving his arms, reaching out for Batman, until breath was ragged in his lungs until his fists were ripped and bleeding, and still he kept going until his arms felt like lead weights, and there was no more strength.

"If Bruce Wayne could've given his life to your family, he would have," said Batman flatly.

And then, finally, for all the loss and pain that he had carried with him, for all the agony he’d kept wrapped within him, Dick Grayson started to sob, and then cry, his chest heaving, his body shaking in Catwoman's encased arms.

---

Long into the night, they were there in the Batcave. Bruce considered it a small triumph that Dick had apologized on his own to Alfred without any prompting from Bruce. But the interpersonal dynamics between the three "crime fighters" were somewhat more strained and continued far past the point where an exhausted Alfred had retired for the evening.

Dick watched Bruce and Selina retreat into the vault to change out of their suits and into their normal clothes. 

Dick then paced across the cave, from the front of the vault to the computer.

"All I can think about every day is getting Two-Face," stated Dick, faces of his family flashed in his mind. "He took my whole life. When I was out there tonight, I imagined it was him I was fighting, even when I was fighting you, and the pain went away. Do you understand?"

"All too well," It was the kind of statement that Bruce had made earlier; the kind that Dick had previously considered to be patronizing. Now, though, he understood. Too well.

"Good, because you two gotta help me find him," said Dick, as if Bruce had already acceded to his request. "And when we do, I'm the one who kills him." 

The couple emerged from the vault. Bruce was in a white t-shirt with black jogging pants with a black towel around his neck, with Selina donned in a sports bra and loose pants. 

"So, you're willing to take a life?" asked Bruce.

"As long it's Two-Face," said Dick.

Bruce glanced at Dick, and what he saw before him reminded him alot of Selina two years ago. It was the same pent up anger and lust for revenge that Selina possessed for one Max Shreck. He remembered how he had been like Dick, filled with rage, aching for vengeance. That was when he was a child; an adult now, but Bruce had no doubt that if Dick ever went through those emotions again, he would be much the same way. 

"Then, it will happen this way," said Bruce. "You make the kill. But your pain doesn't die with Harvey, it grows. So you run into the night to find another face, and another, and another. Until one terrible morning, you wake up and realize that revenge has become your whole life. And you won't know why."

Selina listened in to the conversation in silence and it took her back to the night at the Penguin's old lair where she almost killed Shreck out of pure hatred and bloodlust. It was a no different than what she expected to get out of this but somehow she nearly committed the deed actually bothered her. If anything, the thought itself made her want more blood that she had almost spilled that night made her feel sick.

I just couldn't live with myself! So don't pretend this is a happy ending!

Killing him will not solve anything. Trust me, it won't make things any better for yourself. Years down the line after tonight, it'll eat you away like a thousand insects, slowly and painfully until there is nothing left of you, then you'll wonder what happens next. One terrible morning you wake up at your apartment, you'll realize sooner or later, revenge has become your whole life. And you'll end up being more lonely and afraid than you already are. Believe me, I've been there and done that.

Selina shook her head out of her flashbacks, feeling the need to speak the same words her boyfriend said back then to Dick to assure he wouldn't go down the same path she had.

"Dick, listen to me," assured Selina, catching the boy's attention. "What you need to understand that Bruce has a point. I've been in the exact same position as you, and I know what it's like to have a grudge against someone for taking away something dear. Only accept my former boss pushed me out of the window of a ten-story building that cost me my first life." 

Dick couldn't help but widen his eyes at the revelation. Selina was dead before? How was that even possible that she was still alive?  Why would her former boss allow something like this to happen? Why is she here? How did she even come back?

He had so many questions running through his mind, as the blonde woman in front of him watched his reaction. 

"Yeah, I know. I should've been dead from that height, but I'm not," Selina continued, biting her lip gently as to not let the memories trigger her PTSD. "The trauma was how I became Catwoman in the first place, and only recently been diagnosed with PTSD from the said incident. I was so blinded with anger and thirsty for revenge, and killing Shreck was all I could ever think about. If Bruce hadn't talked some sense into me down at the old aquarium, I wouldn't be standing in this cave having this conversation with you. Trust me, it's an addiction. You fight night after night, trying to fill the emptiness. But the pain comes back in the morning. And somewhere along the way it stops being a choice."

She fell quiet, the two of them in silence once again, neither sure what to say next. Selina closed her eyes for a moment as she finished her explanation, taking a slow sip of water from her bottle, as Dick shook his head. 

"You two don't understand," Dick's voice was filled with emotion. "Your family wasn't killed by a maniac."

Bruce’s gut twists and writhe painfully at the remark. Selina bit her lip at the comment, her eyes dancing across the floor, knowing the full story of how Bruce became Batman through his parents' murder. He didn't want to be reminded of what happened to them, not when he had already dealt with so much grief.

"Yes they were," replied Bruce softly. "We're the same." 

Dick's eyes widened and Bruce could see something behind them as if he was surprised that Bruce would have such an opinion. 

"If we're the same, Bruce, then help me," murmured Dick which sounded like a pleading tone in his voice. "Train me. Let me be your partner. Selina, convince him."

Selina said nothing, and for once in her life, she didn't have something to say. Bruce took a deep breath, he had no idea how Dick managed to get so desperate with this request, but it wasn't impossible that it was because of their relationship. He wanted to help Dick out by allowing him to train under his command as Batman but at the same time, he wasn't going to let the youth walk down the same path of revenge that both he and Selina did. 

"I can't," Bruce said finally. "You still have a choice."

"Look Bruce," Dick shook his head, eyeing Bruce with anger born of pain. "I'm a part of this, whether you like it or not."

He stormed out and Bruce watched him go, feeling a lot older. Selina automatically wrapped her arms around him to ease his pain. He closed his eyes, trying in vain to push away the memories that were already threatening to overwhelm him. His breath came short and he clutched at his chest as it twisted itself tighter. Selina was there again, but this time she held nothing but concern.

A/N: Well, that was surprisingly short and sweet I have to admit. I hope you faithful readers enjoyed the latest chapter. As you can see, the bond between Bruce, Selina and Chase is growing tight as they finally reached their first steps into their relationship, and with Dick discovering the Batcave, will Bruce even accept him into taking down Two-Face? Speaking of which, the stakes are high with Harvey forming an alliance with the Riddler as their plan to take out Batman and Catwoman while taking over Gotham is set in motion. Plus, I hope you like that reference to another Jim Carrey movie at the end of the mind-warping scene, and yes, I removed the cringey laundry scene and replaced it with Bruce training Dick, which I honestly think makes a lot more sense to him grow and with enough confidence to square up against Two-Face. So, I hope we shouldn't take long into posting yet another chapter of this rewrite where the stakes are gonna be even higher for both Bruce and Selina. Peace!

Chapter 6: Party at the Ritz, Exposed Secrets

Bruce and Selina decided to take the day off. With everything that was going on in their lives, they figured they would do more harm than good. They might ask him a simple question and he’d wind up selling the entire Tokyo office. So he called in to Margaret, who ran down a few quick outstanding questions that had to be attended to.

"Oh, and Gossip Gerty and her sisters of scandal are all over us," she concluded. "They want to know if you’re bringing Dr. Meridian to the Nygmatech ‘do’ tonight."

"The what?" questioned Selina absentmindedly. 

"I’ve only mentioned it to you seven times," she exasperated. 

"Eight’s the charm. Run it past me again," replied Bruce 

"Big brouhaha at the Ritz Gotham Hotel, celebrating a new model of that silly little Box thing. Naturally, a new model is required since they sold their first million," explained Margaret with a hint of disdain.

"That was fast," mused Selina. "And you sound disapproving."

"He's a creepy little man, Miss Kyle," said Margaret, which was fairly strong language for her because Margaret was the most diplomatic person in Bruce's employ. "I don’t like seeing creeps become successful. Makes you wonder if there’s any justice in the world."

Selina's lips formed a thin line, agreeing with the sentiment completely. She had never liked Nygma, hadn't even pretended to like him to begin with. He had been an obnoxious little creep from day one, always boasting that he would become partners with Bruce, and not once did he ever mention Selina in any topic. To her, Edward was nothing more than a fanboy who thought he could get anywhere by flattering Bruce as much as he pleases. How did he ever become successful in the first place after he left Wayne Enterprises with the invention of the Box was absolutely beyond her understanding.

"I don’t wonder about such things," said Bruce firmly, snapping Selina out of her thoughts.

"If you ask me, I think he’s nuts," Margaret stated matter of factly and Selina nearly snorted.

"Well, Maggie, no offence," Bruce told his assistant. "But I don’t think I’ll ask you." He thought a moment. "On the other hand, I know someone who I can ask. A close-up and personal opinion might not hurt at that. Maggie, call back the gossip ladies and tell them that I will indeed be taking Dr. Meridian with me to the Nygmatech soirée tonight."

"All right, Mr. Wayne," nodded Margaret. 

"While you're at it," interjected Selina. "Call Dr. Meridian and ask her not to make a liar out of us."

---

The red carpet had been rolled out that night at the Ritz Gotham Hotel. The Ritz was one of the older hotels in Gotham. In fact, directly across the street, another hotel was going up that threatened to dwarf the Ritz, once the showcase of Gotham. For now, though, the Ritz Gotham was still a hive of activity. A banner was draped across the front that read 'NYGMATECH—IMAGINE THE FUTURE.' At the curb, finely dressed folks poured from luxury cars. A battalion of valets scurried about.

Bruce Wayne’s Bentley, driven by Alfred and carrying Bruce, Selina, Dick, and Chase, pulled up to the curb. Bruce stepped out and assisted both Selina and Chase. Dick vaulted over the back of the car.

The party was in the rooftop ballroom. The place was packed with people sipping cocktails, munching hors d’oeuvres. A band was playing and couples were dancing on an elaborately decorated dance floor.

Lining the walls were curtained show booths. Partygoers were being invited to step in and sample the new improved Box. People were emerging from the booths, giggling as if they were drunk.

Bruce, Selina, Chase, and Dick headed down a large staircase to the center of the ballroom. 

"Gotham high society," said Dick, unenthusiastic. "I’m excited."

"You needed to get out of manor for a while. Too many... distractions," said Bruce significantly.

"Oh, right. Whatever you say, Ba-" he stammered, almost saying Batman until Chase finally turned to look at him, at which point he said casually, "Bruce."

Selina fired him a glare at the near slip-up. 

"Don't make me regret this," she hissed under her breath to Dick. 

For one quick instant, Dick wasn’t sure whether Selina was kidding. Bruce satisfied himself with that moment of uncertainty on Dick’s part. And Dick, opting for the better part of valour, allowed his attention to be drawn away by a showgirl.

Bruce, Selina and Chase paused at a landing. He helped Chase off with her cloak. She was in a tight-fitting black dress, with a string of pearls, and even Selina had to admit that the doctor look ravishing. She looked down at her choice of attire,  and she was wearing a blue silk dress that hugged all of her curves. But it didn't distract her focus from finding someplace else to stare.

"About last night," Bruce started to Chase, "I want you to know..."

"It’s important to me we stay friends," she said, overlapping.

Selina felt her heart drop at the way Chase said that. What? Friends? Had she just read that wrong? Had their intense interaction last night at her apartment been a mere fluke on Selina's end? Had the flirtation she had sent to her and Bruce been nothing more than a passing thing? Was it all nothing but lies on Chase's end? 

"Yes. Definitely. Me too," Bruce agreed.

Chase smiled, "Then it’s settled. Friends."

Yet neither of them looked, or felt, particularly pleased with the accord. And for that matter, neither did Selina. 

If anything, this encounter was only making things worse and they just wanna go and pretend as if nothing happened between them? This was going to be a long night, Selina dreaded.

---

"And tonight," announced a newscaster on the radio for the latest update. "All of Gotham society had turned out for Edward Nygma's gala unveiling of his New Improved Box. They'll be dining and dancing the night away on the glamourous roof of the Ritz Gotham."

---

The party at the rooftop of the Ritz was already in full swing. Chairs and tables were scattered throughout the ballroom. People sat at them talking, laughing, eating hors d'oeuvres. Some were drinking champagne and others were having coffee. Standing in the center of the room sticking out like a sore thumb, was an enlarged version of the Box that stood right on top of the fountain. 

Edward Nygma laughed a little too loud and a little too long. Once upon a time, such behaviour would have gotten him annoyed looks and the backs of people’s heads. Now it got him imitated. He stood with a wide grin on his face in front of the press with Sugar, Edward's date for the evening, was next to him clinging onto his arm as reporters pressed in closer, snapping pictures and tossing questions.

"Mr. Nygma," shouted one reporter, trying to speak above the cacophony. "What's it like to have your face on the cover of every magazine in Gotham?"

Edward just flashed a cocky smile as Sugar squeezed his arm tighter.

"Edward," said Gossip Gerty. “How does it feel to be the city’s newest, most eligible bachelor? Gotham must know." Suddenly she spotted a new arrival and called his name. "Oh! There’s Bruce Wayne! Brucie!"

Edward stiffened slightly but then relaxed. He had nothing to fear. Nothing to be angry about. He was Wayne’s peer now.... no. Not peer. Wayne’s superior.

He was about to continue his performance for the crowd when abruptly the crowd evaporated. They surged toward Wayne, his idiot girlfriend and some other blonde that he was sure had seen her on TV before, but can't remember exactly what.

No. No, it wasn’t supposed to happen that way. A fury of red, and then a blinding green of envy, flashed before Edward’s eyes. He’d gone to all this time, this effort, this agony, built everything up from nothing, and Wayne was capable of pulling away his audience with his mere presence.

And on top of everything, they were wearing the exact same suit.

"Oh Eddie, he's too cute," cooed Sugar, sliding her chest up to him eyeing up and down at Bruce. "How come you don't look so good in that suit?"

Edward wanted to pop her one. He waited for her to say something comforting, but she just kept gawking at Wayne. 

"Shut up. You're here to work," said Edward shortly, before he randomly pointed at the mole on his face, "How's my mole?"

"Fine," replied Sugar nonchalantly.

Then, he grabbed her by the elbow, plastered a smile on his face, and headed over toward Bruce and his dates.

He heard the banshee-like tones of Gossip Gerty asking Wayne in a sprightly manner, "Nygmatech stock is outselling Wayne Enterprises two to one. Edward Nygma’s charitable contributions threaten to dwarf yours. Are you yesterday’s news, Bruce?"

Before Bruce could get a word out, Edward approached him with a big smile.

"Yes, yes, yes. Bruce, old man," he said cheerily, putting a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. "The press was just wondering what it feels like to be outsold, outclassed, out-coiffed and generally outdone in every way?"

He waited eagerly for the desired reaction. He wanted Bruce to shout, or tell him off, or throw some sort of tantrum that would look absolutely scrumptious in tomorrow’s headlines. But Bruce merely smiled. Could he really be that self-confident, that unconcerned? No... no, it had to be that he was doing it out of spite. That was it.

"Hello Edward," greeted Bruce pleasantly, extending his hand. "Congratulations. Great party. Nice suit."

Edward’s fist clenched, flexing, wishing he had his cane. He turned to Selina, who glared at him like he was an insect. He gave her an icy stare in return. And then, he spotted her. 

"And you are?" he asked.

"Chase," the doctor answered, giving him her best impression of a smile, and extended her hand to him.

Edward took her hand and was surprised at how warm and soft it felt within his. He was clearly smitten with her instantly and it showed.

"And what a grand pursuit you must be," he said seductively, kissing her hand lightly.

Selina watched the exchange and felt a lurch of jealousy within her stomach. She forced herself to calm down and let go of her jealous thoughts and feelings. The last thing she wanted was for Edward to catch on to her jealousy, which she knew would only make matters worse and he would rub it further in her face.

Endeavouring to return the small talk, Bruce turned to the stunning woman standing next to Edward. 

"I'm Bruce Wayne, Miss...?" he prompted.

Sugar giggled softly, "You can call me anything you want."

"Bruce," said Edward, managing a voice that was both entre nous and, at the same time, playing to the press, "How humiliating my success must be for you. There you were, a real genius, and yet you couldn’t recognize my own. Come. Let me show you what could have been ours together."

Visions of lawsuits danced in Bruce’s head. Edward was admitting, in front of witnesses, that he’d worked on the Box during his employ at Wayne Enterprises. But as he’d told his lawyer, he didn’t need the money. Sure, there was the principle of the thing. And, granted, he wouldn’t mind wiping that smug look off Nygma’s face. But he brushed off the notion, even as Nygma propelled Wayne and the rest of the group through the party. Now, more than ever, it would seem like envy or revenge rather than a justified suit. Bruce had an obligation to the image of Wayne Enterprises and its stockholders’ concerns. Having the company’s namesake look like a bad sport would help neither.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Edward announced loudly. "The future! My New Improved Box offers fully-interactive holographic fantasies."

A man was just stepping inside the first booth. Noticing that he suddenly had an audience, he waved gamely, like an astronaut climbing into the capsule. He moved into the booth, but everyone was able to watch him on a monitor, where he was turning and looking down in amazement. He found himself in Hawaii and was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts, and was even welcomed by a woman who place a lei over his head and was offered a drink. To his astonishment, he was even able to finger it. It was solid and felt so real.

"Edward, you’re dashing and a genius," burbled Gossip Gerty. "How do you create these images, hon’?"

He waggled a finger, "That, my dear, is my little secret."

In a second booth, a woman was entering and discovering, as the monitor indicated, that she was covered in glittering jewels.

"Fully interactive holographs," said Bruce, thinking out loud. "Only a high-frequency carrier wave, beamed into the brain could create such images."

"Yeah, and you wish you thought of it," smirked Edward. "Don't be a sore loser, Brucie. Step inside and give it a try." he urged, gesturing toward the booth.

Selina was still watching Nygma indifferently. She didn't care what kind of fantasy he came up with, it would never measure up to her. Screw it. If she were in Bruce's shoes, she probably would've sued the little bastard already. The boasting and ego he displayed around people would drive any sensible man to madness. She took a quick glance at Chase and noticed her expression was not quite as vacant as usual. 

Bruce glanced at another monitor where a man was enjoying an astronaut fantasy.

"Edward," he said slowly. "If you can introduce images into the mind, what prevents you from extracting images out of the mind?" 

Selina and Chase raised their eyebrows at the unexpected, yet very intriguing question. 

Edward, on the other hand, panicked internally but didn't succumb to it. Instead, he masked his emotions behind a wide grin, "Too timid to try my machine? Just say so!"

Bruce simply looked at him flatly. Edward smiled, graciously at Chase and offered his hand to her.

"Shall we dance?" he asked with a charming smile.

Chase was about to say no, but then she noticed that Bruce, with a subtle nod of his head, was indicating that she should. Selina frowned slightly, once again fighting the urge to push her jealousy back down. She wasn’t even sure why she was bothered by it anyway. But that doesn’t change the fact that she was. Immediately, the blonde psychologist understood why. Bruce was still concerned about Nygma’s behaviour and just how obsessive it might be or might become, and he was very interested in her assessment of him. Now would be the ideal time to gather some data.

She took his hand and stepped into the middle of the floor.

The crowd of reporters had seemed to dissipate, giving Bruce and Selina the chance to move freely without interruption or distraction. 

As Bruce began leading Selina around the floor, they found the nearest table and sat down, facing each other. He put his hands on the table as if he were trying to lean toward her. He noticed an awkward tension in her body, although her facial expression remained stoic.

"What’s wrong, Selina?" he inquired gently.

She shook her head and smiled weakly before saying, "Nothing, Bruce."

"Are you certain? You haven't said one word since the moment you entered the room."

She paused for a beat, considering her reply carefully, "It's nothing," she insisted. "It's just..."

She looked him directly in the eyes for the first time during their conversation. She saw the sincerity reflected on them, which calmed her immediately. It helped her to think straight again.

"... I don't know," she said, shaking her head again. 

"It's Chase, isn't it?" asked Bruce calmly, though, in truth, he could see the jealously surrounding her gaze.

Selina nodded her head, feeling somewhat reassured by him. Her anger quickly subsided and left her feeling slightly ashamed of her jealousy.

"It's the way you were looking at her, too," said Bruce after a short pause. "And from how you reacted when Edward was talking to her, I guess you felt a little threatened."

"Yeah," admitted Selina, nodding hesitantly. "And I am. I've never had this problem before."

"Well, I'm here for you," declared Bruce. "No matter what you may have heard."

"Thanks, Bruce," replied Selina gratefully.

They shared a quick kiss, which made Selina blush heavily and Bruce chuckle quietly in response. They pulled back and resumed looking around.

"So," Selina broke the silence, changing the subject, "About the holographic images that Edward has created from this so-called New Improved Box. What does it really offer in terms of fantasies? Can it work as well as advertised?"

"Yes," answered Bruce promptly. "The only problem is that while this technology is technically perfect, the design and development were far less complicated. By all means, this kind of technology is based on what some scientists call virtual reality. This is a simulation of how our world is, actually. For instance, the box Edward created can hold multiple simulations in the brain. A computer simulation will provide information regarding different locations within the brain that are linked to memories and events."

"So, it's more or less yet another invasion of privacy," commented Selina.

"Exactly," confirmed Bruce. "And it's nothing like the real world. This technology has no connection to life, or to any physical world. All of it is merely a computer simulation."

"And yet, it further complicates matters the longer someone looks deep into it," remarked Selina with a frown. "It raises too many questions."

Bruce now felt his curiosity piqued. His conversation with Edward, and Nygma’s tensing up at certain points during it, indicated to Bruce that he’d been fairly on target about some of his observations. And if that were the case, there were potential ramifications that simply had to be dealt with. It didn’t matter to Bruce at that point if people did claim that he was out to harass Nygma. If there was a question of public safety, or of potential tampering with people’s minds, Wayne was going to have to take action.

"I agree," he responded finally. "I'm gonna look around to see if there's some kind of power source for this machine and see if would give us anything."

"Alright," responded Selina. "You go on ahead. I’ll join you later."

With a faint smirk, Bruce started walking away. Selina, however, remained where she was on the table, staring at him until he turned away. Then, she closed her eyes and sighed heavily.

"I really could do for a drink," she murmured to herself, standing up before disappearing into the crowd. 

Bruce walked along the floor, glancing at all the booths that housed holograms, as he walked. Most of the holograms from above were showing scenes of exotic places and people doing something extraordinary that made the viewer wonder what it all meant. Some of the booths were empty, but there was always some kind of movement inside as if someone was sitting inside, observing the proceedings from above. 

Bruce walked past one booth and right next to it, he spotted what appeared to be some kind of control console. The panel somewhat resembled a 1980s jukebox, the lighting was in bright green and had some dials and buttons on it and he couldn’t help but wonder about them. 

He couldn’t be sure, however. Nor could he make himself sure until he’d had the opportunity to look over the equipment. The smaller version of the Box had already proved less than cooperative. Perhaps the new and improved model might be more so.

Edward, in the meantime, had glanced over at Bruce, who was in front of the panel. He was still dancing with Chase as he kept his eyes fixed on him rather suspiciously. As he observed the billionaire's every movement, he tried not to let his suspicion grow. 

Bruce was inspecting the controls curiously, looking for something that could help him to understand them. 

"Naughty naughty," came a playful, teasing voice beside him. 

Bruce turned abruptly to see Sugar, who gave him a flirtatious smile.

"Looking for something?" she cooed suggestively.

"I was just wondering how you turn it off," explained Bruce, gesturing the controls.

She looked left and right, then put a finger to her lips in a 'shhh' manner. Then she placed a power pack between her fingers and removed it from the panel. The booth went dark completely. Still suspicious, Bruce opened his palm. Without hesitation, Sugar dropped the power pack into his hand.

"Hmmm, clever," he commented, examining the small tube, containing some kind of glowing green liquid inside. "Thanks." 

"My pleasure," she purred, her tongue along with her upper teeth. "And if you change your mind and want some company in there, then we can both use our imaginations."

Bruce smirked slightly as he made way, with Sugar making sure she brushed her finger against him as he passed. He ignored it and soon gazed upon one of the booths before disappearing inside it. He found himself in a darkened room. It wasn’t quite pitch black; however, most of the light sources were hidden by the various shadows cast by the many screens that covered the walls. There was a TV monitor set in the center of the room that was off at that point. Bruce was looking over the interior of the booth, trying to locate the circuitry. Did it line the walls, or was it consolidated into small projectionlike devices?

Out on the dance floor, Edward tossed off random answers to Chase’s series of questions. To him, it was all a game.

He spotted Bruce entering the booth and quickly spun Chase around so that her back was square to him. Edward exchanged a glance with Sugar and then, once he was satisfied that Wayne was in position, he nodded to her. Sugar promptly reached into her bodice, pulled out an identical power pack, and slammed it into the circuit panel. The booth hummed to life.

Edward pumped his fist in the air and spun Chase around once more. The latter seemed to be unaware of what was happening.

The booth that Bruce was now in shimmered. Green lights pulsated through it slowly and steadily along with the TV monitor screen. On top of it looked like a miniature version of the Box. It seemed to emit some sort of beam of light, striking Bruce dead center in his head. He suddenly found himself transfixed by the screen, completely unable to move even an inch. 

"Good evening, Mr. Wayne," said the feminine, computerized voice in a very calm tone. "Relax."

Bruce tried to say something, but he couldn’t manage to utter any words. Instead, his mind filled with white noise. Everything began to blur in front of him, his vision blurring and fading. 

"Tell me your dreams," asked the voice.

As the words echoed around him, the scene changed. Bruce stood in a dark alleyway in the night, gazing straight ahead into the darkness as he waited for something. At first, it appeared to be just images flashing across his mind. There seemed to be something familiar about them. Something… frightening. Like a nightmare. But, the more those images flickered, the more Bruce could sense something else. A shadow lurking in the darkness moved closer to him, and he could see someone approaching him and he had his gun held up. He looked down and saw two bodies lying motionless on the pavement with beads of pearl scattered around them. Then he looked back up and saw another figure approaching from the other direction, heading straight towards him.

"Tell me something, kid," demanded the newcomer, his voice taunting and malicious. "Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?" 

The shadow stepped forward menacingly, revealing the face of the man he knew all too well. The man who took away his parents and stole his life, the same man whom he wanted revenge on for everything that happened to him.

Jack Napier was smiling at him maliciously, pointing the barrel of his gun right toward his head. 

The scene faded to white again, followed by an echoing sound of a gunshot and a scream. 

"Tell me your fantasies," the voice spoke again as images flashed through Bruce's mind. 

He saw flashes of images, none of which were clear or coherent. But, in each image he saw, there was something odd. Something familiar. A woman stood on the rooftop of a building, staring intently at the full moon. In fact, the moon was shining brightly, reflecting off of the woman's form-fitting latex outfit. The silhouette of the woman seemed very familiar as well as if Bruce was looking at someone else. The figure turned around, bright green eyes shining through the darkness as they stared intensely at him. It almost seemed like they were gazing straight through him, their gaze penetrating his mind and causing him to shudder. 

The woman in question had cat-like ears on the top of her head, she approached him slowly as she uncoiled her whip from around her torso, and when she raised it into the air to bring it down with a loud crack. The sound rang through the air around him and it caused his heart rate to spike, though not from fear or fright. The woman continued to stalk towards him with swaying hips, her eyes never leaving his, even as she lowered her whip. She slowly reached a clawed hand out, letting out a predatory grin while continuing to approach him.

The closer she got to him, the more the images in the background shifted. The woman's form became clearer until she too had shifted and faded into a black cat. Its green eyes gleamed brightly, seeming to pierce right through him, but it didn't seem concerned as it prowled through the city before the background around it started to fade and shift, forming an office of some sort. The cat leapt onto a woman's lap who was sitting behind the desk and leaned its head onto hers, purring quietly while the woman petted its fur lovingly. The woman had blonde hair and striking blue eyes. She had a professional, yet flirtatious expression on her face. 

The scene changed to white again before Bruce could register what was going on. 

"Tell me your secrets," The computerized voice echoed in the booth after several long minutes.

Then, it changed again. This time to black, then to a wide, cavernous space with huge columns in the far corners, towering high above, their shadows spreading out and covering the entire floor of the empty chamber. It appeared to be completely lifeless. The only sounds he heard were coming from the faint echo, seemingly coming from everywhere. It wasn’t just the echo either. All sorts of noises he'd heard sounded distant and familiar, yet somehow felt like they belonged in this place. They echoed off the stone walls of the large cave, creating an eerie atmosphere that chilled him to the bone. Screeching bats fluttered through the vast vaulted ceiling, while shadowy forms skirted the floor around him, and the sounds of heavy machinery working, although that was impossible. He glanced around, noticing nothing but shadows and darkness, with only a few faint outlines of pillars and archways showing where anything might be.

The cave became engulfed in white once more.

"Tell me... your deepest... darkest... fears..." the computerized voice sounded sinister.

Images raced past Bruce's thoughts. Images that seemed to be more ominous and terrifying than anything that had ever been seen before. Suddenly, a strange glow came from deep within a section of the room. It was flickering, growing stronger by the second. Suddenly, a winged creature emerged from the source of the light, flying directly toward Bruce, its wings beating loudly. The creature screeched as it neared and opened his mouth. It flew straight at him, its jaws gaping open to reveal rows upon rows of sharp needle-like teeth. Glowing red eyes glared savagely, while it stretched out an arm, reaching for him. 

And as Bruce stood mesmerized in the booth, surrounded by a green glow with a tiny white light focused on his eyes...

...in a control booth on Claw Island, yet another holofile was created, added to the hundreds that had already been assembled this busy, busy night. This one was labelled “Bruce Wayne.” A miniature schematic of the human brain appeared on a screen, and the new and improved Box began its guided tour through the graphic landscape of Bruce’s mind.

---

Dick Grayson looked contemptuously down the array of booths, with people going in and out like cuckoos into clocks. He smoothed his hair and cast a smile toward the showgirl, who blew him a kiss and walked back downstairs.

"Fake reality," he remarked. "It'll never beat the real thing."

Selina, in the meantime, was at the bar ordering drinks. She was trying to keep herself occupied so as to distract her frayed nerves from the events at hand. She looked at her watch as she did. Bruce has been gone for a while now. Her hands clenched around the glass she was holding as she tried to fight off her worry. Where was he? Was he alright? How long would it take?  What was taking him so long? And Chase was still dancing with Edward, still making a fool of himself, no doubt about that. Selina let out a sigh.

"Dwelling on your thoughts is useless, you know," came a silky feminine voice. 

Selina turned around and saw Sugar approaching. The woman smiled flirtatiously at her, batting her long lashes. 

"You're here alone," she observed.

"I am," replied Selina. "I'm waiting for my boyfriend," she added with obvious disdain and sarcasm.

Sugar raised her eyebrows, smirking slightly.

"You seem tense," she commented casually. "You could do for some company…" she suggested coyly.

Selina rolled her eyes. 

"Oh really?" she muttered sarcastically. "Would that make you happier? Is that why you invited yourself over here? In fact, why aren't you with Edward?"

Sugar shrugged, feeling indifference as she took a sip of her drink before moving a little closer to Selina, smirking seductively.

"Edward and Chase are dancing now," she explained. "I figured I'd come over and spend some time with you instead."

"That's nice," replied Selina dryly. She eyed Sugar suspiciously. "But what is it exactly do you want from me? Just to make me feel better?"

Sugar giggled softly, placing her palm gently against Selina’s forearm.

"I can get that done without you having to pay for it, you know," she whispered in her ear, winking playfully.

She moved her lips closer to Selina's ear, her breath fanning across her neck as she spoke again. "Or perhaps I could convince you that being a little more relaxed makes it much more pleasurable? Would that help?"

Selina gulped slightly, swallowing nervously, her gaze darting around anxiously. What is it with the women having the hots for her all of a sudden? She shook her head slowly, her eyes darting back to the other woman who had removed her hand from her arm. She was now standing right in front of her. Selina looked up, seeing an expectant smirk on Sugar's face.  

"Why don't you find out how much pleasure it could give you?" she breathed deeply. "You know if you wanted." She chuckled wickedly.

Selina swallowed again. The temperature around her seemed to grow warmer. The warmth spread throughout her body, beginning at her stomach and ending with a tingling sensation which spread to her extremities. Her pulse accelerated as a pleasant heat filled her lower abdomen and crept along her legs, increasing her desire exponentially the further the warmth travelled. She watched as Sugar placed her hands on Selina's shoulders and squeezed them tightly, leaning forward to whisper in her ear.

"If you need any help, baby, tell me and I'll get right to it," she purred in a sultry tone, giving Selina another squeeze before pulling away. "Now if you'll excuse me…" 

Selina watched as Sugar sauntered off across the hall and disappeared into the crowd that was gathering there, her dress swirling around her lithe form. She bit her lip as her imagination ran wild, imagining the feel of those warm, soft hands caressing her, exploring her body, teasing her. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily, thinking to herself, "How am I supposed to relax when these things keep happening? Why do these weird things keep happening?" 

She took another long gulp of her drink and forced her mind to focus on something else, or rather someone else. 

At the other side of the ballroom, the elevator doors slid open, and a horde of thugs armed with neon tommy guns poured out. They immediately spread out through the crowd, pushing and shoving their way through the mass of people, shouting unintelligible words. Right behind them were Two-Face and Spice, who were leading their men through the melee.

Edward and Chase were in the middle of the dance and looked over at the commotion, noticing the group running through the crowd.

Two-Face pointed his guns and began firing away at the New Improved Box while Spice threw a lead pipe at it, smashing it repeatedly until it finally burst into pieces, causing a shower of sparks and glass shards to fall onto the fountain and the dance floor. 

Edward looked on in horror, unable to look away as the last part of the machine crashed down into pieces. 

"No, no, no, no, no!!" cried out Edward frantically, shaking his head frantically, leaving Chase behind as he fled in the opposite direction. 

Dick watched as the booths went dark all at once, and only a second later to see a figure appear at the top of the stairs. And bile rose in his throat as he saw Two-Face swagger into the ballroom. His thugs were converging from every direction.

Bruce was still in the booth when he felt it; the power suddenly faded, leaving the darkness in the room almost suffocating him as everything became pitch black. All of the images vanished, and he found himself back inside the booth, looking around anxiously when he heard gunshots outside. He staggered out of the booth, disoriented, operating completely on instinct. The tendency of the other guests had been to freeze the moment they’d heard bullets being fired. He looked over at the entrance and there was Two-Face right on top of the stairs, blowing out the smoking barrels of his guns with a loud ‘whoosh’.

Bruce scanned over the frantic crowd, searching for his girlfriend through the masses. 

"Selina!"  he shouted. "Selina!"

"Bruce!" she called back just as loudly, sounding relieved, rushing through the crowd towards him. 

"Selina! Over here!" he exclaimed urgently, waving her over. 

She hurried across the hall towards the booth where Bruce stood. They hugged each other tightly, breathing rapidly, overwhelmed by relief. They released each other and moved immediately toward a service entrance right behind the monitor and shoved the door open. Bruce led Selina through and into a dimly lit corridor. To their right at the end, they notice a window that had a fire escape sign above. Bruce reached it first and pulled it open, beckoning Selina after him. As soon as she joined him he quickly grabbed her hand and started climbing out of the window and over to the ladder. 

Dick Grayson bolted into the service kitchen. He heard the pounding of feet from both directions, the unmistakable clacking of bolts being shot home. He looked around desperately... and spotted a laundry chute. He wasn’t sure where it led, but anywhere had to be better than this. He dived through it just as two thugs converged on the area that he’d vacated.

"Relax, folks!" Two-Face bellowed. "It's only an old-fashioned, low-tech stickup! We're interested in the basics: cash, jewellery, cell phones! Hand them over nice and quietly, and no one will be hurt!"

Bruce and Selina slid down the ladder as quickly as they could. They were going down so fast that everything around them was a blur. 

They landed on the ground right in front of the Bentley where Alfred was standing guard. The butler's face fell upon when he saw the expressions on the couple's faces. Immediately, he knew.

"Emergency, Alfred," Bruce stated firmly and sternly, he and Selina decking inside the Bentley. 

Alfred was already pressing a hidden button that flipped open a secret panel in the back. A Batsuit and Catsuit were hidden within.

Edward Nygma shoved his way toward Two-Face. Gossip Gerty grabbed him by the arm and bellowed, "No, Edward! He’s a monster! Stay away from him!"

"Be calm, everybody!" Edward pleaded desperately, ignoring her pleas. "Just stay calm!" 

He managed to get through the crowd and approach Two-Face, who was standing near the entrance with his Spice, laughing evilly.

"You're ruining my big party!" He complained with exaggerated annoyance. "Are you insane!?"

"We're sick of waiting for you to deliver the Bat and the Cat, dear boy," sneered Two-Face in an arrogant voice. 

"Patience, oh bifurcated one," Edward murmured softly. 

"Patience, hell! We want them dead!" snapped Two-Face. "And nothing brings out the Batman and the Catwoman like a little murder and mayhem." 

"You could've let me in on the caper," told Edward. "We could have organized it, planned it, pre-sold the movie rights." 

Two-Face scoffed before sipping his wine. 

At that moment, a window exploded inward. Guests ducked back, glass flying over them, as Batman and Catwoman swung in. Glass crunched beneath their feet when they landed right on top of the fountain where the New Improved Box once stood. 

The goons open fire at them instantly, and the costumed vigilantes leapt from the edge of each side of the fountain, narrowly avoiding getting hit by the hail of bullets. Batman leaned on his feet behind the two men while Catwoman flicked her wrist to send her whip flying to slap the leather tip right to the faces of the three thugs that knocked them off their feet from the force. 

Nygma turned to Two-Face and said, with a sneering smile, "Your entrance was good, theirs was better. The difference? Showmanship." 

Batman launched himself up with his foot and kicked one of the thugs in the face hard enough that it sent him rolling backwards. The man landed next to another thug, knocking him unconscious, then spun around and caught the third one by the neck before slamming him down onto his back. Catwoman threw her whip again, butting it against the head of one of the remaining thugs. She rammed her spiked heel into the temple of another before flipping away. Batman threw his cape around one of the goons, immobilizing him as he used his weight to crush the man's throat. He turned to the left to see one about to attack him with a kick from one side, and another to his right. They both attacked simultaneously, both the Dark Knight blocked them and flipped them over their ankles, sending them both crashing to the ground. 

Catwoman performed a round of cartwheel kicks, spinning them and throwing them around in a 360-degree rotation. One let out a defiant yell and charged toward her, but she sidestepped, throwing a knock pallet to the back of his head, stunning him. She threw another knock pallet directly at another thug's chest,  forcing him to stumble back and collide with one of his companions. Another goon stepped forward with his fists raised, ready to punch Batman, only for him to duck and roll forward out of the way, jumping to his feet in an instant and swinging his fist straight up at the goon's jaw, slamming him backwards onto the ground. Catwoman spun around and flung one more kick directly at his chest, pinning him to the floor with a sharp thud, then rolled forward again to avoid the incoming swing from a third guy. She came up to a fourth guy and delivered her palm strike squarely to his forehead, puttering her tazer gloves to good use to send him jolts of electricity coursing through his body before delivering a solid kick to his stomach. 

Dick ran out of the building in time and the Bentley was right in front of him.

"Emergency, Alfred," breathed Dick.

Alfred went over to the boot of the car, and opened the boot with a quick push of a lever, revealing Dick's Flying Grayson costume. 

"I could be fired for this, sir," Alfred mumbled, taking hold of the outfit as Dick headed in the car. "Perhaps they'll have me back at Buckingham Palace. Always liked the Queen..."

One thug charged Batman, but the crimefighter heaved him overhead, throwing him into a display of stacked Boxes that crashed down all around him. Catwoman sent her whip flying at a third thug, catching him in the head. Batman threw a Batarang straight into the chest of another thug, and then spun on his heels and threw himself straight towards the second thug. The first one took several steps backwards with a yelp, tripping on his own feet, and the masked vigilante struck him with a downward blow. With another grunt, he stumbled sideways and slammed onto the floor. 

Catwoman got to her feet and the last thug rushed toward her and began waving his blades wildly in the air, clashing them together with deadly precision. The latex feline got into a stance, waiting for the man to finish his frantic movements. When he did, she scoffed at his foolish attempts to intimidate her, which only serve to unimpress her further before swiping out her talons at him. 

"Tic!" She scratched his cheek. "Tac!" Another cheek with her left claws. "Toe!" She knocked him out cleanly with a single strike.

Batman and Catwoman made their way through the crowd until one thug got hold of Chase, who was trying to wrestle away from him. He raised his fist at her, intending to slam it right across Chase’s cheekbone, but before he could, Catwoman grabbed his fist with one hand and twisted it.

"Hands off, fucker," she growled, and with a flash, raked her talons across his face, leaving him bleeding profusely.

He yelled in rage, covering his bloody face with his hands, and then Batman intervented and rammed his head forward with such ferocity and intensity that the thug collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

And that was when the distant sounds of police sirens began to fill the room.

Upon hearing them, Two-Face holstered his guns, "Okay, boys. Phase two."

He made his way back where he came from, and his goons quickly followed after him, leaving both Edward and Spice to fend for themselves.

Chase stared wide-eyed at her rescuers. Her eyes moved rapidly between the masked duo before planting a kiss on Batman's lips in gratitude. She pulled back and gave another to Catwoman before looking at them with thrill and exhilaration. 

"My place, midnight..." uttered Chase breathlessly.

Batman and Catwoman exchanged a look before giving her nods. They both made haste for Two-Face's direction, not wanting to delay any longer than needed. The remaining thugs who they dealt with, however, sprinted after the pair, but they were easily taken care of by a few fists to the face and kicks to the temple. The costumed couple spotted Two-Face at the elevator and raced towards it. Before they could reach him, the doors slid shut in their faces.

"Damn it," cursed Batman. 

He and Catwoman then hurried towards another exit, and then they were climbing up the stacked Boxes, making their way towards the roof. 

Chase watched them from afar with a look of pure fascination in her eyes. She grinned in satisfaction, wondering from the back of her mind how exactly she managed to find such amazing people to help her.  But even that didn't make much sense as to what would happen when she found herself in trouble. Especially now as they were finally safe, she couldn't help but wonder if everything worked out well or not. She will just have to wait and see... 

Her eyes never left the two figures until they vanished into the distance.
 
While Batman and Catwoman were fighting the goons, Sugar was hiding behind another large stack, peeking around occasionally, watching the fight. And when she saw Two-Face and the nearest thugs dashed for the service elevator, she left her hiding place to make a dash for it herself, with Spice joining her. They arrived too late when the elevator doors closed, cutting them off.

"We gotta vacate," said Spice.

"What’s this ‘we’ stuff?" retorted Sugar. "I’m here legit."

Spice fired her a look. "Babe, if my sorry ass gets hauled in, I’m not going down alone. Read me?"

"We gotta vacate," Sugar immediately said. "And fast. Where're the stairs?"

"Thirty stories? In these heels?" Spice said incredulously. She flipped open a mobile phone. "I know a guy with a helicopter."

---

The Gotham subway museum was planned to be an ancillary part of the new hotel, which was built atop a subway station that had fallen out of use thanks to cutbacks on service. The enterprising hotel builders were also funding an underground museum that gave an overview of Gotham’s history of transportation. Plans called for a genuine old-style train to be rolled into place on permanent display, refurbished along with the rest of the station. Workers would be dressed in uniforms of the period.

It would be marvellous. And profitable.

And doomed.

Work on the station had already begun. Half of the station had been washed down, repainted, and retiled. The other half was still dank, dirty, and disgusting.

Two-Face and his goons marched in through, heading straight for the scaffolding around the platform that was just over the road near the Ritz entrance. They climbed up it without hesitation, looking about like they owned the place.

Batman and Catwoman emerged from the surface of the roof and dashed out onto the balcony, looked out over it and yes, sure enough, Two-Face had indeed gone to ground. He and his thugs were just vanishing into an open manhole in the midst of the construction site across the street. 

Batman swore silently as he watched them disappear. Catwoman hopped from her perch, running towards the edge of the balcony. He threw his arms wide. Glider rods snapped up, drawing his cape taut and into place. He stepped up onto the railing of the balcony and leapt off, hurtling down toward the manhole at top speed with Catwoman hot on his heels.

Unknown to them down below, the thugs hoisted translucent red plastic industrial air-conditioning tubing, its maw matching precisely the diameter of the open manhole under Two-Face's command. 

Not wanting to lose any time, Batman folded his “wings” just as he arrived at the manhole, plummeting straight in, feetfirst with Catwoman close behind headfirst. They only had a split-second warning that something was wrong, and in this case, it wasn’t enough. Not even for Batman and Catwoman. They plunged into the red vinyl connector, skidding into the darkness, out of control.

The world spun around the. He tried to slow himself down, to find purchase, but there was none. Batman grabbed at his belt, about to draw a grappling hook that he would slam down right into the plastic to stop his descent. Catwoman stretched her arms out to try and use her talons to slow herself down, but they ended up shredding through the plastic as they passed through.

By that point, though, it was too late. Their amusement park-like ride had ended abruptly. He hurtled out of the tube into a blackened tunnel filled with scaffolding and supports from the work underway, and smashed squarely into a wall and Catwoman crashed right into him from behind. 

Laughing maniacally, Two-Face grabbed an ageing valve wheel set into the crumbling wall. He spun it enthusiastically and was rewarded with, in the distance, the sound of gas pouring into the tunnel.

Batman and Catwoman struggled to their feet. They looked over the tunnel, just in time to see one of the thugs handing over Two-Face a grenade launcher.  

"Nothing like a bad case of gas!" Two-Face yelled gleefully, aiming the launcher into the tunnel.

The thugs scrambled to get out of the way as Two-Face fired the launcher. The grenade slammed into the gas main, and a flaming white fireball erupted, spiralling down the blackened tunnel and searing everything in its path.

Batman and Catwoman's eyes widen when they realized they were trapped. The fire was spreading rapidly, consuming anything that came within ten or fifteen yards. There was no escape.

"Oh shit!" exclaimed Catwoman. 

Making a split-second decision, Batman crouched down, flapping his cape over both himself and Catwoman. He reached for his utility belt and pressed a button on the side. His cape begins to run and flow like water morphing into a protective sphere around them. The gadget that Batman was using to create his own shield turned the material of his cape into a fire protective field that Lucius Fox had developed, a shield designed to withstand intense heat and flames in an environment where there would be plenty of oxygen.

A tremendous fireball roars races down the tunnel engulfing Batman and Catwoman in a world of flame.

Two-Face watched with rapt attention as the far end of the tunnel turned into an inferno. There were more explosions and the glorious sounds of debris falling. It kept on going for several moments, the tunnel thick with smoke, a residual flame burning here and there.

And no movement.

Two-Face threw his head back and laughed hysterically in celebration. Finally. Finally! Finally! He'd finally managed to kill the Bat and his bitch. He glanced over at his goons, who were all grinning. They all knew why. No one else was going to have the balls to stand up against him.

He laughed again, relishing the moment until his face dropped. In the distance, something moved and Two-Face saw a glint of reflective light and heard a strange clicking noise.

He looked into the burning tunnel and his mouth dropped open in horror. Rubble was being shoved aside and, phoenixlike, two figures were rising from it. Slowly, Batman and Catwoman pushed themselves upright. They seemed unharmed, but neither one spoke. They both stared right into Two-Face, their expressions cold and calculating.

Two-Face, though, was consumed with rage and was seeing nothing but red. 

"WHY CAN'T YOU BOTH JUST DIE!?" he screamed, aiming his launcher at them and began firing wildly at the scaffolding supporting the ceiling and walls.

The scaffolding cracked and fell, and the already overburdened structures of the tunnel gave way. With a deafening roar, tons of rock, sand and debris descended upon them falling from the ceiling and raining down on them. One by one, they fell, rolling and twisting and fighting each other to stay conscious. 

Two-Face and his goons made a beeline for the exit. As they ran away, Two-Face stayed behind to watch his two prey fall further and further beneath the rubble. Sand continued to fall, entombing Batman and Catwoman, laughing maniacally with glee as plaster and rubble fell around him. More debris fell and more dust settled around Two-Face, sensing this would be a good time to depart. 

Sand continued to pile up and a great wave rose up and drowned what remained of the structure. It lasted a moment until the tide subsided leaving the tunnel in ruins. The dust settled and the remains of the collapsed tunnel slowly started to come together, but soon the pieces were buried again under the massive weight of sand, rocks and dirt.

There was a silence that followed after the sand had cleared. Nothing could be heard except for a distant humming that echoed down the tunnels from the city above.

Both hands gripped theirs.

It was a strong, unwavering grip. The grip of someone who was not accustomed to letting go of whoever or whatever it was holding.

It provided him with all the support he needed. Although the sand continued to slide under them, he was nevertheless able to dig in the toes of his boots and drive himself upward, up and out. Batman and Catwoman broke the surface as well, gasping heavily. Sand poured out of their masks, dust staining their suits. Batman was able to make out the hand that was holding his. It was green-gloved. Trembling slightly from the strain now, but still unyielding. He looked up. 

Catwoman blinked the sand and grime out of her eyes. Once she cleared her vision, her green eyes widen in surprise as she took in on her saviour. 

Dick Grayson was dressed in his Flying Grayson costume. A black mask covered his features. His legs were hooked around some scaffolding that had fallen in such a way that it was wedged solidly.

"Hi," said Dick with a smile, gritting his teeth from the effort of pulling both Batman and Catwoman upwards.

---

In the depths of the Batcave, Alfred was busy bandaging up Bruce and Selina as Dick paced.

Bruce’s reaction had been far less than what Dick considered the acceptable one, which would be at the very least a heartfelt "thank you", but Selina was fuming. Her glare was almost physical in its intensity.

"Care to explain to me what the hell were you doing down there!?" Selina demanded angrily, getting up from her seat to approach him before wincing slightly.

"Ya know, you two have got real gratitude problems," Dick stopped, struck by the vision of himself at Batman and Catwoman’s side. "I need a name. Batboy? Nightwing? I dunno. What’s a good sidekick name?"

"How about Richard Grayson, college student?" Bruce stood, flexing his aching muscles. 

"Screw you! I saved your lives! You both owe me!" expressed Dick, grinning broadly.

"You almost got yourself killed out there, Grayson!" shouted Selina "You were completely reckless and out of control!"

"You're looking at a new partner," Dick replied with confidence, not flinching at the blonde's rage.

"No!" Bruce spat. 

Selina laughed at the ludicrousness of it.

"Whenever the call comes, I’ll know," Dick told them. "Whenever you go out at night, I’ll be watching. And wherever there’s Batman and Catwoman, I’ll be right behind them. How are you going to stop me?" He smirked, crossing his arms.

Bruce held his gaze, and there was something very flat and very dangerous, a contained animal in his eyes. 

"I can stop you," answered Bruce in an almost challenging tone. 

The threat lingered, like a heavy fog, hovering over them all. Dick just grinned again, not taking the bait.

"Al, put this next to the Batsuit, where it belongs," he instructed Alfred. Then he spun on his heel and left the cave.

Bruce and Selina exchanged a look that was almost unreadable. Glowering, he watched him go and then turned to Alfred. 

"And you’re encouraging him," he accused.

"Young men with a mind for revenge need little encouragement. They need guidance," said Alfred with the air of one who knew precisely what he was talking about. "You, of all people, should know the consequences of the life you choose." 

Selina looked thoughtful. Bruce sighed, rubbing his forehead, discouraged, and thought about his sinking in the sand, thought about how he’d never needed someone to save him before, and now this kid had shown up and it was true, the great Batman and Catwoman owed him their lives. 

He couldn’t keep doing it alone but did that mean that both he and Selina brought in a partner, a teammate, or did that mean that he should stop...

He glanced over at a TV screen, which was playing the news. There was that wonderful station owner editorializing again, and there was the Bat symbol with the red international prohibition sign through it.

Bruce reached for the volume.

"Don’t," suggested Alfred.

He turned it up anyway, to be graced by the comforting words, "...subway tunnel will take weeks to repair. Batman and Catwoman are magnets for so-called supervillains. Only when they hang up cape, cowl and whip will Gotham be spared these evildoers’ violent vendettas..."

Bruce started to laugh, and Selina earned him a sharp look as she stood beside him. Alfred looked at him worriedly as Bruce’s laughter drowned out the rest of the editorial.

"I was... I was wondering how they’d do it," Bruce managed to gasp. Slowly he regained control of himself. "That’s what our society is all about, Alfred. We build up heroes. We create them. They spring from the media, or movies, or television, or full-blown from our brows. And once we’ve got our heroes in place, we look at them and see how little we are in comparison. How meaningless our own lives are. And we start to tear them down, bit by bit, drag them ‘down’ to our level rather than raise ourselves up to the level we’ve established for them. We always destroy the heroes we create, Alfred. Always."

He turned back to face her, still chuckling lightly, and found Selina looking at him with an expression somewhere between amusement and pity. The corners of her lips twitched slightly, and then her expression softened. She looked away.

Very quietly, Alfred said, "Even those we create for ourselves to inhabit?"

Slowly, Bruce nodded. "It seems that way, doesn’t it. Are they right, Alfred? Is it time for Batman to retire?" As much to himself as to Alfred, he addressed the question, "Why do I keep doing this?"

His hands clenched at his side as he continued to stare out into space. Selina leaned against a console, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. Finally, after several moments in silence, he felt a light touch on his forearm. Startled, he jerked his attention back to her.

"We're here," she said softly. 

Her hand fell from his arm, leaving behind just cold fingertips that chilled him to his bones. But he didn't move away. For some reason, she had just touched him; a simple contact that spoke volumes without ever having opened her mouth. That made her presence in his world more real and made him realize the magnitude of what had happened. And that made him want to keep doing things that required no thought or calculation for a moment.

Alfred reached over and put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, "Your parents are avenged. The Wayne Foundation contributes a fortune to anticrime programs. Police handle much of the villainy. Why, indeed?"

"Chase talks about Batman as if he were a curse, not a choice. What frightened me the night of my parents’ wake? The Bat? Did I create all this," he gestured around the cave. "Just because a little boy was scared of a monster in the dark? I thought I became Batman to fight crime. But maybe I became Batman to fight the fear."

"And instead you became the fear," Alfred replied simply. 

He stared at the screen, which was now running photographs of Two-Face. "If I quit, would Two-Face end his crusade? Could I leave the shadows? To spare Dick. To have a life. Friends. Family."

"Dr. Meridian..." reminded Selina gently. 

Bruce looked up at his girlfriend, pain in his eyes. "She loves Batman, not Bruce Wayne. She sees you as Catwoman, not Selina Kyle."

"I am still me," she argued quietly. "I'm still who I've always been. And I'll always be who you know me to be, whatever you choose."

"Go tell her. Tell her how you feel," encouraged Alfred. 

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "How do I tell her, Alfred? As Batman, knowing she wants me? Or as Bruce Wayne and hope...?" 

His voice faltered as Selina reached out. Her hand closed around his.

"I'm going to help. No matter what."

---

"Where are they?" said Gordon slowly.

The others of Two-Face’s thugs whom they had questioned had remained tight-lipped, refusing to give Gordon and the other cops standing nearby the slightest hint of Two-Face’s whereabouts. This one, though, a burly one named Taylor, seemed to be sweating profusely. 

"Look, you don’t understand," said Taylor. "I’d like to cooperate. I’d like to save my own butt, don’t think I wouldn’t. But if I spill the deal about Two-Face and Riddler, I’m toast. I’m cooked."

"How? How are you cooked?"

"I dunno, but that’s what they said. They said if we ever squeal, we’ll regret it. And they weren’t kidding. I’m sure of it."

A heavyset detective named Bullock grunted, "Gimme a few minutes with him, Commish."

Gordon ignored him. "We can protect you, Taylor."

Taylor considered it a moment, and then said, "No jail."

"I’m not sure I—"

"No jail, and I go into the Witness Protection Program. In exchange, I give you Two-Face and the Riddler. That’s the deal. You don’t like it, then that’s the end of this conversation. I ask for a lawyer, he tells me to shut my yap, and that’s it. This offer has got a shelf life of exactly thirty seconds."

He drummed his fingers nervously as Gordon considered it a moment, "Okay, I think I can sell it."

"Guarantee it."

"Guaranteed. Providing it pans out."

"Oh, it’ll pan out. Because I can tell you that you can find those—"

Suddenly his eyes went wide.

"Taylor?"

He seemed to be looking inward, his entire body shaking. Then he started to scream, his head snapping back and forth as if something were inside his head trying to eat its way out.

Immediately Gordon summoned a doctor, but by the time he arrived, it was too late. Not that he would have been able to do much of anything even if he’d been present at the beginning of the attack.

Taylor’s head lolled to one side, his tongue hanging slightly out, his eyes staring at nothing. Every so often a slight twitch indicated that he was still alive, but that was all. Word would quickly spread, and anyone else who was even entertaining the notion of ratting out the Riddler and Two-Face got the message loud and clear.

And miles away the Riddler removed the helmet that had connected his mind to the subcutaneous implant that Taylor, that all of their henchmen, in fact, carried with them, unbeknownst to them. The one that had given Nygma full access to Taylor’s entire thought process, not to mention the ability to blow out his neural pathways at whim.

He sighed. "It’s so difficult to find good help these days..."

---

Pale moonlight shined through the windows of Chase Meridian’s bedroom. She lay asleep, chest rising and falling evenly.

A shadow crossed her face. Somehow it seemed to work its way into her mind, causing her to stir slightly. Then her eyes opened in narrow slits, dream and reality blending seamlessly. 

The French doors to her bedroom opened, a tall and, to some, frightening apparition stood framed against the window. Next to him was a petite figure clad in latex, black, cat ears perched atop her head.

She rose slowly from the bed, moonlight playing along her body clad in a diaphanous gown. She went to them, smiling softly at them.

"It's 2 AM," whispered Chase. "I gave up waiting for you both."

Batman's lips came close to hers, so close, and then their lips met, tasting each other’s passion.

Their tongues tangled together. He could taste saltiness and sweetness, love and desire, warmth and danger and longing. It was a perfect mix of flavours. She pulled back from him and turned to Catwoman to press her lips against her red-painted pair. Their bodies pressed intimately together, and Chase shuddered noticeably at the feeling of the cool material of Catwoman's suit against the thin gown on her skin as the two women shared the same equal passion as the blonde psychologist had for the Dark Knight. 

They pulled away and gazed deeply into each other's eyes. Catwoman smiled warmly at Chase but did not speak. Then her breath hitched in her throat when she felt familiar hands fondling her ass. She let out a soft growl, arching forward and pressing herself more firmly into Batman’s embrace, and his arms came round her waist from behind. 

Catwoman purred, nuzzling closer to him, breathing in his scent, his strength, his power, letting herself enjoy his embrace. Then Chase began to caress her breasts through the silk fabric of her gown, teasing her nipples as she watched Batman fondle Catwoman from behind. The blonde psychologist ran her hands across Catwoman's hips, feeling up her outfit, tracing her palms across the smooth black latex. Batman moved his hands upwards from her ass, cupping her breasts in the palm of his hands. She arched her back, groaning. Catwoman’s heart thundered inside her chest. She arched her back, groaning in delight as she trembled slightly. 

Chase was unable to suppress a moan when the latex-clad feline ran her hands underneath her gown, feeling up her back, touching her buttocks, kneading them. She moaned a deep, shuddering sigh when Catwoman slowly lifted the flimsy material off Chase's body, leaving her bare naked to them. Batman removed his leather gloves and placed them carefully on the dresser before he began kissing Catwoman's neck, nuzzling her with his chin while Catwoman ran her gloved hand through Chase's hair. Chase moaned softly at the sensation, pulling Catwoman closer to her body while Batman continued to grope her breasts gently. The latex-clad feline purred happily at the sensation, turning her head to kiss him briefly, grinding her body against his rubber armour. Then, she pulled back and gently took Chase by the shoulders, leading her backwards onto the bed to push her gently down onto the sheets as Catwoman crawled upon her.

The bed squeaked beneath them as Chase gasped softly when Catwoman lifted the hem of her gown up over her stomach, and the other blonde couldn't help but shudder slightly when Catwoman's bright green eyes locked onto her blue ones, their faces only inches apart. Their mouths met again for another long passionate kiss, tongues entwining, fingers tangling together. Catwoman pulled from her lips to nibble at her jawline. She trailed a hotline of kisses towards her left shoulder, before letting out a throaty groan when she felt her ass being grasped tightly by Batman's strong fingers.  Chase moaned softly, writhing slightly at the feel of the latex-clad woman's lips on her neck, rubbing against her sensitive skin, her fingers digging into the sheets at the sensation. 

Catwoman grinded her ass against Batman's groin, moaning slightly as his fingers slithered down to her crotch. He tugged onto the material of her suit,  lifting it up just enough that he could use his left hand to rip a hole in the fabric. She bit her lower lip, closing her eyes in pleasure, licking her lips slowly as her boyfriend touched her bare flesh. His fingers stroked between her folds, teasing her clit, making her giggle quietly. She writhed under the pressure, clenching her pussy, thrusting her hips against the hand that stroked her which prompted her to lower herself further onto Chase, moaning loudly. 

Chase whimpered, arching her back in pleasure as she let herself get lost in the feel of Catwoman's tongue and fingers teasing her, her thighs opening wider as she gripped harder at the sheet beneath her. She moaned softly again as  Catwoman lowered herself even further between Chase's legs, staring right into her womanhood with a predatory grin. She had never been quite sure whether she liked women or not after her recent appointment with Chase, however, this was exactly what she wanted, needed. She was ready, eager...and scared. She eventually dived her head between the doctor's legs, tasting the warm juices of a woman for the first time in her life.

Chase let out a loud gasp as Catwoman's tongue invaded her, her fingers curling painfully around the sheet, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the tip of Catwoman's tongue flick her clit lightly. She moaned louder and louder as she felt Catwoman suck harder on her clit. Batman reached out to pull the glove off Catwoman's left hand and extracted a sharp claw from the index finger to cut through the crotch of his suit, easily cutting through the rubber material, peeling it away to reveal his hard, erect erection. 

Chase opened her eyes to glance over at Catwoman's shoulders and widen at the sight of it. The latex-clad feline chuckled at her reaction.

"You like it?" Her voice was low and husky, almost gravelly. Chase nodded eagerly, her eyes still fixed on Batman's erection, taking it all in as it filled up her vision.

"Yeah," she mumbled, licking her lips hungrily. "So big..."

"My thoughts exactly when I first laid eyes on it," murmured Catwoman, her voice becoming low and raspy in turn. "Mmmmmm, pound this ass, rubber boy..."

She grabbed Batman's cock and guided it inside her. He groaned softly as he slipped fully inside. Catwoman pushed forwards to meet his thrusts, their hips rocking into one another in sync. Chase squirmed at the sight before her, watching the Dark Knight slowly going at it to Catwoman from behind, hearing them pant and groan and moan, the sounds filling the air of Chase's bedroom and echoing off the walls. Everything around the blonde psychologist seemed to be fading, and the only thing she was focused on was Catwoman working her magic on her wet clit, making her come with a series of small gasps and moans. Her whole body began to tingle, the heat radiating from within spreading through her entire being until there wasn't room inside of her for anything else. 

The three individuals wrapped themselves completely up in a world of pleasure and they had lost track of time, unaware of everything except each other.

2 hours had passed, around 4am by the time both Batman and Catwoman had managed to put together some of their suits back together after a late night of passion. While Chase was laying in bed, the costumed couple were about to leave from where they came when a voice called to them.

"Hey," Chase muttered, getting to her feet to walk over to them, wrapping the bed sheets around her naked body. 

She was an inch into their personal space, and both Batman and Catwoman could see the blonde psychologist's eyes shining with a mixture of desire and uncertainty before she leaned forward to kiss the Caped Crusader first before doing the same to the latex-clad feline before pulling back.

"I'm sorry," she apologised softly.

"Sorry for what?" questioned Catwoman, confused, quickly gazing at Batman, who was as a bit lost as she was.

"I can't believe this," sighed Chase, looking down at their suits. "I imagined this moment since I first saw you both. Your eyes, your lips," She placed her fingertips to trace his lips while placing the other on Catwoman's face, rubbing her thumb over her masked features. "Your bodies... Now I have you two and..."

She paused for a moment as she looked at them intently, hoping she hadn't overstepped any boundaries with them. 

"...I'm wishing you were somebody else," she whispered sadly, dropping her gaze to stare at the floor.

Neither Batman nor Catwoman showed any sign of emotion as they stood silently for a few moments, neither of them speaking a single word to one another. They can see where this is heading. The last few days since meeting the doctor were spent in intense sexual activity, especially at the moment on the GCPD roof where she had flirted with them, and the amidst the chaos surrounding them with Two-Face and the Riddler, Chase was not entirely sure whether or not if she wanted the costumed couple, or Gotham's Golden Couple, much like Batman's difficulty with his duality. 

Chase turned away from them, grinning to herself at the times she had with them at every possible moment in time when she didn't see them. 

"I guess a girl has to grow up sometime," said the blonde woman softly.

Batman and Catwoman both remained silent as they looked over her to her bedside table all of the Batman and Catwoman memorabilia on the desk had been replaced by photos and articles about Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. 

"I've met someone, or rather two people I've met," Chase continued. "They, um..."  She hesitated for a split second, clearing her throat. "Well, they're not you. I hope you can understand."

Batman and Catwoman stayed quiet for the remainder of her confession. They acted stoic and unfazed despite how deep in thought they must have been, but deep down, for once, their hearts were about to burst with a rare bout of happiness for the young woman. It was obvious that Chase was referring to their identities and the fact that she had met the people she was in love with. Not as Batman and Catwoman, but as Bruce and Selina. 

"We understand," said Batman finally, speaking for the first time since he arrived. "Well..." 

He turned around to head towards the open window, giving Catwoman a quick nudge, motioning for her to join him outside. She nodded, joining him side by side as they walked through before they halted after two steps outside. 

They turned their heads to each other, nothing saying anything to each other for a brief moment before they share a secret, knowing grin on their masked faces, as if they were silently conveying; 'We've got her.'. 

Chase watched Batman and Catwoman jump gracefully from the balcony, his cape extending to glade himself gently in midair while Catwoman swung with her whip from one rooftop to the next as the blonde psychologist watched them until they disappear over the horizon. She stood there for several long minutes, wondering why they had given up so willingly so quickly, wondering to herself what they were really thinking at that moment. Was this because of her choice? Was it because of the fact that she had made no effort to ask them what they really thought? But no. They hadn't shown any signs of anger or resentment for her having met Bruce and Selina and yet they had let her go anyway. They had told her they understood, after all. But did they? Did they really?

Chase was beginning to wonder if she did the right thing after all.

---

Edward Nygma couldn’t get Chase’s face out of his mind.

Heaven knew he had tried. Seated on his thronelike chair on Claw Island, rivulets of neural energy rippled and danced on his forehead as images of the woman flared on screens all over the control room.

Two-Face entered and, without preamble, yanked the device from Edward’s head. He gasped as if kicked in the stomach, Chase’s picture vanishing from the screens.

"Our belfry is finally free of Bats and the nuisance that is Catwoman," said Two-Face in a pleasant tone that ran counter to his mood. "An end to late-night raids by the man in rubber and the woman in latex. No more troublesome explosions of violence from the winged ferret and the feline. A cease to all wall-crawling, night-flying, humourless, vitriolic, self-righteous heroics from a man whose belt and footwear don’t even match. Ding damn dong, the annoying Bat and his whore are both dead." 

And then he grabbed the Riddler by the throat and growled, "So, why do we need you? You only come between us. We’re going to be the smartest in Gotham City. We’re taking the empire for ourselves. Time’s up, laughing boy."

Rasping, trying to squirm out from under Two-Face’s grip, the Riddler gasped out, "Bad news, pals. The Bat and the Cat lives."

Nygma reached to his side and shoved a newspaper into Two-Face’s faces. The headline read BATMAN AND CATWOMAN SURVIVES SUBWAY SABOTAGE. It went on to describe eyewitness reports of a battered and dirt-stained Batman and Catwoman emerging from a manhole, accompanied by another individual also wearing a cape and mask.

"Not only are they not dead," observed the Riddler, "But they seem to be multiplying."

Two-Face threw back his arms and screamed. It seemed to go on for a very long time, echoing through curved walls of the main chamber and the Riddler jammed a finger in his ear to clear the ringing. 

"Nice," remarked Nygma after two minutes. "Need a little work on your performance. A little flat. Try a C-sharp."

"Cats have nine lives!" bellowed Two-Face, his fury building. "Cats! C, not B. I'm willing to bet that bitch had used one of her lives already and she's still hanging on. The man’s refusal to die is really annoying!" Then he pulled his gun, as he usually seemed won't do when faced with this sort of situation. "Someone is going to die today!"

The Riddler stepped back, looking chagrined. He’d been counting on Two-Face not being quite so ready with the trigger. Well, he’d just have to find a way to make it count… 

"You want to kill me, Harv?" he challenged. "The guy who personally guaranteed adherence by our employees to the nondisclosure agreement? The one where they promise not to rat us out, or else? The one we made them sign three times? You remember."

Two-Face cocked the hammer.

"Kill me?" said the Riddler. "Well, all right. Go ahead. Take the empire. All yours." He grabbed his head and declared, "Hell, Harv, old pals. I’ll kill me for you."

He grabbed his hair and started slamming his head into the desk. Two-Face watched him, not entirely sure what to make of it, although he found it amusing in a sadomasochistic sort of way.

"Too! Bad! About! Batman!" the Riddler managed to get out in between slams.

Immediately Two-Face grabbed his head, halting the self-imposed pounding. 

"What about Batman?" he said suspiciously.

"What if you could know a man’s mind?" The Riddler smoothed out his hair. "Would you not, then, own that man?"

He hit a switch, and suddenly every screen was filled with images of Bruce Wayne stepping into the simulation booth at the party.

"A few dozen extra IQ points and my little doggy learned a new trick. It does more than drain your brain. It makes a map of your mind," continued the Riddler, digging out something from inside his shoe to show Two-Face a small tube with glowing green liquid that Sugar gave him at the Ritz shortly after Batman had gone. "Would you like to see what my old friend Bruce has in his head?"

The Riddler slid the tube into the arm of his electronic throne and hit a switch. The screen has changed, showing a turning schematic of a brain, alive with neural lightning. He hit another switch, and something huge and frightening ripped free from the landscape of the schematic brain that had appeared on the screen. A trapped bat, fierce and monstrous. It was the very picture of imagined evil, made live. Bruce’s nightmare, given form.

"Riddle me this," said the Riddler so softly that Two-Face had to strain to hear him. "What kind of man has bats on the brain?"

Two-Face stared at him in amazement. It now made sense. Seeing an image of this nightmarish bat in Bruce's mind had made everything click into place. That was it. That was the answer! That was how Bruce Wayne operated, how he kept control, how he kept secrets. That was how he'd been able to keep their secret and their cover for so long—because the bat was part of his psyche, his subconscious, and the bat would never tell another soul about anything unless it benefited those involved.

"Go ahead," the Riddler urged. "You can say it."

"A bat... man," Two-Face trailed off in disbelief. "Bruce Wayne is Batman. That would also mean..." His thoughts went to a certain blonde that was always at Bruce's side, an image of that person faded into a figure clad in tight, black latex. "That'd mean Selina Kyle is Catwoman, isn't she? You're a genius." he complimented, and he meant it. 

The two of them began to laugh, loud and long.

---

It was around dusk over at Gotham Cemetery, as leaves blew against the pathway leading to the cemetery's entrance. The wind blew with gusts, and a few pieces of falling foliage could be heard in their direction as the children in Halloween costumes ran through the cemetery gates as Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle paid no mind to them. 

They continued onwards, walking up and down the rows of gravestones, all looking identical and yet somehow different to each other. They stopped occasionally at some of the grave markers as if they were trying to find one specific grave. They went up to the hill under the tree where the gravestones of Thomas and Martha Wayne were located. Bruce stepped forward to lay the roses on top of the graves, as he did every year, while Selina laid a bouquet of lilies on the ground next to them. He returned to Selina's side and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. The two remained in silence for a while, basking in each other's presence whilst Bruce stared a hole through his parents' gravestones, wondering in the back of his mind what his life could've been if the Joker hadn't killed them both that night.

Would he have still met Selina? Would there be someone else taking up the Batman mantle? What would Gotham have become at this point if there was no Batman? He sighed and shook his head. There wasn’t much point dwelling on something he had never even been given the chance to see or experience himself. That was why he took up the mantle in the first place. That’s how he survived, how he lived day after day. But now, lives were in danger constantly every night whenever Two-Face showed up. And he didn't know if it was just paranoia, his duality, or sheer luck.

They remained silent for several minutes until Selina spoke up.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Bruce?" she asked quietly. She turned towards him so that their faces were inches apart. "Making the decision to move away from Batman is not the easiest thing to do."

Bruce gazed into Selina's eyes and nodded. His expression softened. 

"I have to, Selina," he replied. "It's been on my mind since we left Chase's apartment the other night, but I couldn't bring myself to act upon the idea. You have no idea how hard that has been. It's the only way to ensure Gotham's safety, and for my own good as well."

Selina bit her lip before nodding. 

"Of course," she said softly. "You know Dick is not gonna take this very lightly when he hears about this." 

"I'm aware," Bruce responded. "His mind is already filled with a need for revenge for Harvey, and you and I both know he won't stop until he gets it. Whether he likes it or not, he has got to let this go and put aside his hatred and anger toward him before he destroys himself. I'll make certain of it. He will track him down as long as Batman is around, I think he will have the need to let his vengeance go if I put all this behind me if not sooner. For Gotham..."

Bruce closed his eyes and tried to push back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him once again.

"We need to be fully honest with Chase," Selina reminded him. "She needs to know everything, Bruce. Even if she doesn't agree... you have to do this, whether you like it or not. No matter what happens to any of us, I'm here for you. I'm gonna be there all the way through. Don't forget that. I know deep down you make the right choice here, Bruce. You always have."

Bruce opened his eyes and smiled gratefully at her.

"Thank you, Selina," he said sincerely. "I appreciate your support. I meant what I said about hanging the cape up for good. Gotham deserves better than that, and you know I deserve better too. Tonight, it ends."

Selina nodded solemnly. She glanced out at the graveyard again, biting her lip, finding herself facing an uncertain future ahead. Whether she wanted to continue her vigilante activities as Catwoman, she'd have to choose her own path, and soon. As much as she loved her boyfriend, she knew it wouldn't be easy for either of them without each other. She looked at Bruce, feeling as if they could read each other's minds. Their relationship was nothing like normal couples, but they'd found a rhythm that worked for them and neither of them doubted the other and they would follow in line. After all, like Bruce had said to her down at the Penguin's old aquarium two years ago, they were the same, split right down the center. 
 
They are the Bat and the Cat. They belonged together, and nothing would change that.

"Ready?" Bruce asked, pulling Selina out of her thoughts, and breaking their connection as he held his hand out to her. She took his hand, squeezing it gently and nodding. He lifted their joined hands and placed a soft kiss.

"Ready when you are," she whispered.

With that, Bruce pulled her along, towards the edge of the cemetery. They came to the front gate and exited the grounds, leaving the cemetery in their wake.

---

Dick Grayson was positive it was a trick. His ears were got to be deceiving him after Bruce had told him just now and trying to process it with great difficulty. 

"What the hell do you mean it's over!?" exclaimed Dick incredulously.

They were down at the Batcave, Bruce was going from one device to the next, shutting down every piece of equipment there was with Selina by his side.

"You were right, Dick," said Bruce in his most serious voice he could muster. "As long as there’s a Batman, you’ll be behind him. But without Batman, you’ll never track Two-Face down. Never get close to him. Never..."

He stepped back and looked over his handiwork. Everything seemed pretty much protected from dust. Perhaps later he’d get around to actually disassembling it. Time for that later, though. Selina slipped her fingers through his and squeezed them tightly, offering her genuine support, as the pair made way to the rotating platform where the Batmobile stood. 

Dick shook his head in disbelief. He can't be serious. There's no way that Bruce was even considering stepping down from the crime-fighting scene just so he can live a normal life out of the blue just like that! He turned to Selina for any support, but he can tell she was not budging into changing her mind about it from the looks of things. In fact, it was almost like she was agreeing with him fully! This has got to be some sort of cruel joke! 

"So, from this day on, Batman is no more," declared Bruce resolutely, pressing the button on the remote control to lower the Batmobile below. 

"You can't just quit!" protested Dick incredulously, still reeling from what he'd just heard. "There are monsters out there! Batman has to protect the innocent!" 

Dick knew he sounded ridiculous, but he didn't care. The arrogance, the anger, all of it was sliding away, to be replaced by an almost desperate need to restore the status quo. Like a child begging a parent to tell him that the ugly rumours questioning the status of Santa Claus were, in fact, groundless.

Selina turned to face him sharply, giving him a firm look.

"Listen, Dick," she told him. "This is the decision Bruce has made sometime shortly after the incident at the Ritz, and it has not been an easy one. The past week or so had been hell for both of us ever since Two-Face escaped Arkham, and a lot has happened as you saw first-hand. My PTSD diagnosis, Bruce's difficulty with his duality, the Riddler's emergence along with Harvey's chaotic rampage. Believe me, kid, I'm not exactly liking his decision to step down from crime-fighting myself, but Gotham's safety comes first above all else."

Dick could not believe what he was hearing. It was very clear the woman in front of him was standing firmly by her boyfriend's choices no matter what others might say or think of them, not even Selina herself.

"But you're still here, right?" insisted Dick. "You're Catwoman! You were supposed to be protecting them!"

"You forget, I hadn't originally started out as a hero," countered Selina softly. "My first outing as Catwoman wasn't always a topic I would always go back to, but it's what made me what I am today. Sure, saving Gotham and becoming Bruce's partner-in-crime afterwards hadn't come to mind when all I ever wanted was to kill Max for taking my innocence, much like your need to kill Harvey for taking your family from you. As for protecting the innocent, this is the point, Dick. This is exactly the point as to why Bruce is doing this not just for the city's safety, but for his own good. Whether or not I would continue as Catwoman on my own, I've no idea. Or maybe I would follow in Bruce's footsteps if things get less interesting."

Bruce watched the exchange between the two of them curiously before interjecting.

"I’ve spent my life protecting people I’ve never met," explained Bruce. "Faces I’ll never see. Well, the innocent aren’t faceless anymore. If I let you lose yourself to a life of revenge, all I’ve lived for will have been for nothing. Batman has to vanish so you can live, maybe so we all can."

Selina smiled sadly but didn’t comment. She could tell by the look on Dick's face he was having a hard time processing such a decision, especially when Selina knew that his revenge for Two-Face was still fresh in his mind, reminding her so much of herself two years back when her mind was filled with anger and revenge for Shreck. 

"You can't tell me what I'm gonna do for the rest of my life," whispered Dick sternly, watching Bruce continue switching off every machinery and gadget in the cave which was becoming dark. "My dad always said every man goes his own way. Well, mine leads to Two-Face. You’ve got to help me!"

"When you do catch up with Harvey, then you'll kill him. Then what?" countered Selina.

Dick opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again as he realised what Selina had just said. He looked away at an empty space in the middle of the floor and clenched his fists. 

"Exactly," nodded Bruce in confirmation. "Then you'll be lost, like us."

He paused, searching Dick’s eyes for a moment before he and Selina made their way up the rocky stairs leading from the cave.

"Listen, Dick, I'm your friend, you gotta let this go. Get on with your life," insisted Bruce.

"I don't need a friend! I need a partner!" snapped Dick, his temper flaring. "Two-Face has gotta pay!"

And then the anger faded, Dick unable to sustain it. All he could feel was tiredness and sadness. His need for revenge was slipping through his fingers before him and he didn't know how much longer he could hold on to it. 

"Please..." murmured Dick helplessly.

Bruce looked back towards him, his face a mask of compassion but also of sorrow. Selina placed a gentle comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Chase is staying over for the weekend," she informed. "We felt the need she deserves to know the truth about our lives. There’s no way we should keep this from her if we're gonna be serious with her, so there's no reason to hide all this from her anymore. She needs to hear this from us herself."

"Yes," Bruce agreed solemnly. "We're not leaving anything out. After everything that happened, she deserves to know. Our lives, our decisions. Everything."

He glanced at Dick briefly once again who gave an almost imperceptible nod. Selina tightened the grip she'd gotten on his shoulder, a soft smile creeping across her features.

"Come upstairs, we'll talk," Bruce ordered gently, he and Selina headed up to the house, leaving Dick alone in the dark, still cave.

Dick stood there for a moment. Then he walked slowly to the costume vault. He gazed at it for a time, then opened it up. With a hiss, it unsealed. He looked over the array of Batman and Catwoman costumes until he came to a standing figure, separate from the rest.

His Robin costume. His new one; he’d been working in tandem with Alfred on modifications.

He stared at the outfit for a good moment, thinking about everything that lead up to it. His family's murder at the hands of Two-Face, moving into Wayne Manor, his training, Bruce's refusal to be his partner, along with Selina not willing to convince him to change his mind, and now... this.

Dick stared right through the outfit. A cold chill went through him as he realized what he meant to do next. Harvey had taken away the only thing that kept him going, and he felt it was the only way to get justice for his family. He shook his head when he made the final decision. 

"You know what, hell with you both," muttered Dick to himself, peeling the costume from the mannequin, stuffing it in his duffle bag. "I'll do it myself." 

Half an hour later, carrying with him everything that he cared about, Dick Grayson rode his motorcycle down the mountain road. Far above him, the lights of Wayne Manor twinkled in the night.

---

Chase had arrived at Wayne Manor half an hour ago and was seated in front of the fireplace in the living room with Bruce and Selina. They nursed glasses of vintage champagne that Alfred had poured for them before discreetly exiting. Selina's pet cat, Miss Kitty, was curled up beside the sofa.

"We asked you here tonight because there's something we wanted to tell you," began Bruce as he took a sip from his glass. 
 
"I wanted to tell you both something too," added Chase, her face flushed slightly, which was unlike her. 

"What I wanted-" Selina 

"I wa-" Chase spoke at the same time as her before the three laughed lightly. 

"You go first," Bruce told her.

"All right, okay," Chase breathed deeply. 

Alfred was standing silently nearby when he heard a knock on the door. He looked towards it to open the eyehole and found a group of kids in Halloween costumes on the other side.

"Trick or treat!" they chorused and Alfred smiled softly before unlocking the door. 

"All my life," began Chase to Bruce and Selina, "I've been attracted to certain kinds of people. The wrong kind of people. And, look what I do for a living, right?"

She laughed softly, looking down into her wine glass. Bruce nodded his head in agreement. Selina placed a hand over hers. It felt warm, almost comforting. She glanced up at Selina and gave her a smile. 

"And since I met you both," continued Chase. "I..." She paused for a moment,  glancing over towards Bruce and then back at Selina. "Oh god, why am I so nervous?" she said quietly.

Selina squeezed her hand comfortingly before smiling at her. 

"Just say whatever it is you want to say," urged Bruce. "It doesn't have to be big, but you'll feel better."

"I'm not sure this is happening right now," Chase responded quietly. "I don't how you two managed to find each other without being nervous around each other."

Bruce chuckled lightly as Selina shook her head. Chase placed her wineglass on the table next to the couch and bumped the vase off the side.

"Oh!" exclaimed Chase.

The roses fell to the ground. The roses, lying there, and they were wilting before his eyes...

Bruce stared at the roses on the floor, his mind flashed back to that night all those years ago, back when his whole life suddenly changed.

At the manor entrance, Alfred had finished giving all the candy to the kids who'd come to trick or treat. 

"Don't eat too much tonight," he reminded them. "Or you'll be sick in your beds." 

At the iron gates, a getaway car had pulled up and it had several goons holding onto both edges of the vehicle. One of them opens the back door and both Riddler and Two-Face emerge. They watch the kids chatting amongst themselves as they were leaving the manor grounds. The gates open wide to let the kids out. Both Riddler and Two-Face were hiding at the side of the driveway, waiting until the kids were out of sight. 

When they could no longer see any sign of the kids, they let out a cackle before clinging onto each other in mock fright.

"Happy Halloween!" they chorused together before letting go to start their mad dash to the Manor.

---

He ran through the dark, stormy night, clutching a heavy red book to his chest with trembling hands. His breathing quickened with every passing moment, and thunder rumbled in the distance, but it was all he could focus on as he continued walking through the dense forest.

A series of flashes went through his head, The coffins. The book. The run through the stormy night. The fall. The bat.

Chase knelt down to pick up the roses and the vase with Selina helping her. Bruce remained frozen on the couch with his mind reeling.  

Chase turned back towards the man and looked at him with concern. 

"Bruce, what's wrong?" she asked softly. 

Selina looked at her boyfriend worriedly, watching as his brow furrowed and his fists clenched. She leaned over and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Bruce?" she questioned.

"It's happening again," said Bruce, barely above a whisper, getting up from the couch. "The flashes... My parent's death..."

Selina and Chase stood up and walked to Bruce. Selina grabbed his hand firmly, while Chase could tell instantly that he was gone again, gone into his past.

"Your memories are trying to break through," said Chase gently. "Don't fight them." 

"I’m not sure I want to remember,"  replied Bruce, his voice sounding strained.

"Bruce," Selina tried once more, knowing the full story of his parents. "You can get through this."

"I wanted to tell you something, doctor," Bruce whispered. "Something I never told anyone."

"It's all right," Chase reassured, taking his hand. "It's all right, we're here."

He gazed at the women then, saw the understanding in their eyes. Saw the direction that his life could take, if only he had the nerve to head that way.

He leaned back slightly, closing his eyes.

He found himself flashing back to the night of their funeral. A dark, stormy night with heavy clouds that hung over Wayne Manor. He had never seen so many flowers before in his life. The number of people who came for the funeral was more than enough to rival any funeral he’d ever attended and a few times even more. 

"The night of my parents' wake," started Bruce softly. "The priest's words gave no comfort."

The priest's word's fell upon little Bruce Wayne's ears, echoing over the vast estate in hushed voices, staring at the coffins of his mother and father with an expression of sorrow. He returned when everyone was gone, eyes downcast,  shoulders hunched in on themselves. He saw something flapping about in the wind right at his father's desk and made a few slow steps towards it. The pages were turning and there were sounds of paper blowing around like leaves as the breeze carried them. 

"Of course. There, on my father's desk, the red book. His journal. He'd written in it every day of my life."

The many pages were neatly written in a hand, remembered watching his father write into it every day, writing about things that didn't matter anymore. He reached out to it, fingers reaching forward to gently pick up the papers one by one. He turned each page slowly, seeing the last pages were all blank. He knew there had been no words to be written on them but they seemed to still feel heavier in his hands. He knew that those last pages would never be written again in the world, not in the way that mattered to him.

"But now, he'd never write in it again. At that moment, I knew my life would never be the same."

What would he do without a father? Without a mother? What would happen if someone were to take care of him?  Would he end up alone? Alone is what you're meant to be when your parents aren't here anymore. No one should have to bear such a burden... 

At that moment, he closed his father's book and made a run through the night. Rain poured heavily from the sky like tears as his feet pounded against the dirt path, pushing him towards his destination faster than it has ever taken him before, clutching the book against his chest like it was his lifeline. 

"I raced out into the storm. Trying to outrun the rage. The pain. Then... Then I fell. I fell forever."

Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet caved in, sending him tumbling down into what appeared to be an underground cave. There was nothing but darkness around him, save for small flashes of light as the rain continued pouring down onto him. He pushed himself off of the cold floor and stood to his feet. There was a low growl coming from somewhere nearby and it sent shivers down his spine, causing him to freeze in place. 

"The cave was monstrous. It must've been there for centuries. And there, deep in the shadows, I saw... It was coming toward me."

Something was lurking just outside of this darkness, just over at the only light source in sight. Then, it appeared. A winged creature. It was enormous and flapped its leathery wings, making its slow, ominous approach towards him. 

"I was scared at first, but only at first. The figure in the dark was my destiny. It would change my life forever. I would use its image to strike terror into the hearts of those who did evil. I would ensure what happened to me would never happen to anyone else again. I would have my revenge."

Bruce found himself back in the present with Selina and Chase kneeling before him. Selina was stunned at the story Bruce had just recounted. He told her the direction of how he became Batman years after losing both his parents from the guilt he carried inside. The two years she had known him from dating and from how they encountered one another as their secret identities, but she really hadn't known that her boyfriend's origin was that deep. 

"Bruce, what are you trying to tell me?" asked Chase gently, placing her hand on his cheek. 

"Chase, what I'm trying to say I'm..." Bruce began hesitantly before she cut him off with a kiss. 

Her lips pressed against his softly and tenderly before parting. Selina was surprised that once again, she felt no jealousy towards the doctor and made zero effort in stopping her.  If anything, she welcomed Chase's kiss, her heart pounding at the sight. 

Chase continued the kiss slowly, but there was something very familiar with the kiss.  Something... It felt something like she had kissed those pair of lips before and yet... She couldn't quite put her finger on where exactly she had been kissed before. Then, her mind went back to her apartment hours after the incident at the Ritz when she invited Batman and Catwoman when they made love for the first time. She recalled the memory as if seeing it in front of her and she remembered. 

She pulled back to stare at Bruce with wide eyes when she finally realized where the familiarity came from. 

"Oh my god.." she breathed.

"What is it?" asked Selina.

"You're Batman, aren't you?" asked Chase breathlessly, staring at Bruce. Her eyes widened even further as she looked up at Bruce in disbelief. "Is that what you were trying to tell me, Bruce?" 

There was silence between the threesome as they processed what had just occurred. 

"Yes. Yes, it was..." said Bruce.

Chase sighed deeply and slowly place her fingertips on her lips, remembering the kiss they shared that night, and the flirtations she sent at them at the GCPD roof. 

She smiled faintly, her heart now pounding loudly in her chest. She felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach while she wondered how many times she had imagined how Bruce Wayne would feel like kissing her under different circumstances.  When she had been thinking about the possibilities, she never thought things might turn out like this. Now that it actually happened, she wasn't sure how she should feel. Shouldn't she be excited? Ecstatic? Worried? Guilty? All of these emotions ran through her head but none she could pinpoint exactly. 

Chase slowly turned her head to Selina, meeting her gaze briefly as she was looking at the other blonde woman in a new light.

"I'm guessing you're Catwoman?" Chase whispered.

Selina nodded her head.

"Wow," breathed Chase, then remembering the recent appointment she had with her at her office. "Then, your confession to me about your trauma from your boss was instrumental in becoming Catwoman?" 

Selina bit her lip, nodding her head again as she smiled sheepishly. 

"Yeah," answered Selina. "That's the night that I don't wanna remember very fondly as you already know, but it shaped me into who I am today."

Chase nodded her head. She reached across and took Selina's face with her hands, pulling her forward slightly her lips hovering over Selina's. Both the doctor and Bruce's business partner closed the distance, pressing against the other as their lips touched. Bruce looked on in complete amazement as they moved together perfectly. Their lips moved together with ease. It almost felt right, the kiss itself was nothing less than perfect, and there seemed nothing else that could possibly compare it to. 

Selina broke away as soon as they had finished kissing, breathing heavily.

"Wow..." Chase whispered.

"I second that," Bruce remarked with an amused smile as he watched Selina.

The three of them sat on the couch smiling as they took a few minutes to catch their breaths before laughing softly at the events that had just transpired and wondering what they would do with themselves next.

---

Alfred went to the door after hearing the bell ring. He peered through a small hole and saw a sea of Halloween masks before him.

"Twick or tweat!" came an excited call from the kids outside, or at least he guessed it was kids in those costumes. 

Alfred opened the door in answer to the ring and never even saw the cane descend toward him. He collapsed onto the floor, the tray he was carrying clattering around him with a loud crash along with the other items. 

The Riddler grinned down at his fallen victim as he popped into the manor, posing as if he were posing for an imaginary camera. 

"Twick!" the Riddler announced with a grin as he removed the Halloween mask. 

The thugs stepped over him, two of them picking up his unconscious form and shoving him in a closet. Two-Face looked back and forth, taking in the huge foyer, and snapped his fingers to signal more thugs into the house with Sugar and Spice stepping in behind with confidence and swagger.

"Remember the plan," whispered the Riddler to Two-Face. "Seize and capture."

"No killing," told Two-Face to the thugs.

"That goes double for you," pointed out the Riddler.

"That's all we're aiming for," assured Spice. "As long as me and the babe get our hands on Wayne's broads, we'll be good."

"Suit yourself," shrugged the Riddler before they headed off through the mansion.  

The Riddler moved slowly through the left side of the main hall, holding up his cane in this direction and that, checking the sounding signals being issued from the head. He’d known going in that the most likely means of entrance to Bruce’s secret Bat-headquarters would be behind some hidden wall somewhere. It was just a hunch. 

"If I was a superhero," the Riddler said aloud, pressing the button on his cane to open its electronic device to bounce sound waves off the walls. "Where would I hide?" 

He moved the cane around a bit more, checking for any possible hiding places. It would register any place where there was a hidden panel, something that appeared to be solid but had a drop behind it.

And, in short order, he found it.

"Spank me..." he whispered to himself, unable to suppress a grin at his own genius. With a click and a hiss, the hidden panel slid back into the floor and Riddler walked into the room beyond.

---

Chase was still kneeling in front of Bruce with Selina next to him, the threesome looked like they were about to fully cement their relationship when all hell broke loose. A horde of thugs all marched into the room with Sugar and Spice leading the charge. The trio snapped their heads towards them in unison with shock evident on their faces.

"What the fuck!?" exclaimed Selina, the thought of being attacked under the roof of her own home made her blood boil with anger. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Bruce was up to grab the women's hands to lead them to the couch to jump on it together to topple it over to prevent the thugs from getting closer. One thug scrambled his way to Bruce to grab him by the shoulder, only to find himself being clobbered to the face by the said millionaire. Selina grabbed up a silver serving tray, flipped it into one of the thug’s faces, and kneed him in the stomach. Without breaking motion, she slammed the platter into the other thug’s head. Two of them were down, and Bruce quickly grabbed Selina and Chase’s hands. They dashed out the door, Sugar and Spice, along with several more henchmen in close pursuit.

"Get 'em boys!" yelled Sugar.

"The blondes are ours!" responded Spice.

Miss Kitty had taken shelter underneath the nearby shelf the moment the thugs had stormed into the house. She hissed angrily at the intruders, even to the point of swiping her paw threateningly at them, wanting nothing more than to tear them to shreds for invading her turf.

---

The Riddler had found heaven or at least his own little piece of it.

The Batcave was dark, with drop cloths over the equipment. He wasn’t sure why, nor did he care. So, Brucie was painting or redecorating or whatever it was.

His presence, however, had triggered an alert from the computer systems that told all the monitors, and all the lights in the Batcave to be on high alert.

"Intruder alert. Intruder alert." came the robotic voice that filled the cave.

"Intruder alert! Intruder alert!" shouted the Riddler over the system announcements, mockery dripping from every word. "SHUT UUUUUUP!!!" 

He pointed the cane at the speakers and pressed the button to silence them. It has also caused the equipment that Bruce had shut down earlier to power back up. He heard a mechanical whirring sound from behind him as he began to turn around. There was the Batmobile emerging from below ground in a rotating turntable where it was parked. He watched in glee as the car rose upward until it came to a full stop. 

"Now, THAT'S impressive!" exclaimed the Riddler with a wide smile, twirling the cane with one hand, slamming the tip of it against the floor with a clang before moving over to set out his plan.

---

They moved quickly to the main hall as Chase moved as fast as her legs can go without falling over completely in high heels. She yelped loudly when a thug grabbed her arm tightly, dragging her away from Bruce, who saw that the woman was being dragged away. He sprinted across the room and jumped onto the long table and slid across it, toppling over pumpkins and Halloween decorations as he did so. He landed a kick square in the chest that his weight had see-sawed the table upwards with the two other thugs had caught the end of it by getting their chins smacked against it.

Selina, on the other hand, was dealing with Sugar and Spice. She was having an easier time dealing with the two, though she didn't really need as much effort because both were clearly inexperienced in terms of fighting, which gave her the upper hand. Sugar made the first move, aiming a blow at her side but Selina easily dodged it. Spice tried to follow suit with a kick, but Selina saw it coming from the corner of her eye and ducked below it. She reached her leg out to trip Spice, causing her to lose her balance. She got to her feet to dodge another strike from Sugar and an elbow to the back of her head. 

Two-Face sat in a chair, disconsolately flipping his coin. Each time Wayne and his lady friends dashed by, pursued by several thugs, it provided a new opportunity for a coin toss. He cocked and uncocked his gun nervously, watching Selina easily wiping the floor with Sugar and Spice. He flipped the coin to see if the kitty cat would get lucky once again.

It landed on heads. 

Two-Face clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"No killing. Torture him. Make him suffer," Two-Face snorted disdainfully in derisive imitation of the Riddler. "Whatever happened to old-fashioned murder? Kids these days..."

---

Edward and Bruce. Both unappreciated. Both were given hard knocks. Both are certifiable geniuses. Both take on costumed identities. Every step of the way, they had mirrored each other, even if it had been a funhouse mirror.

Without even realizing it until just recently, Edward Nygma and Bruce Wayne had been in a contest in every aspect of their lives. And now that he understood that, it was, in fact, Nygma, the Riddler, who was going to win.

"You know, it’s always risky introducing a tamed animal into the wild," said the Riddler as he removed something green from his pouch, revelling in the irony of it.

It was a small, green bomb that was shaped like a bat, and he had produced a number of them over the past day or so. With demented glee, he winds the first one, twisting the little head, enjoying every single screech. Its wings flapping furiously and hurled it into the air over his shoulder. The bomb struck the crime lab and produced a cartoony sound effect each time it bounces, and a tremendous explosion rocked it. 

The Riddler grinned, satisfied with himself and made way for the costume vault before him and took out another bomb. 

"They may have trouble adapting to their new environment," he went on in this manner, chucking it inside as if it were a hand grenade. 

It bounced with more sound effects than the previous one. It detonated spectacularly, taking the gallery of Batman and Catwoman costumes with it, along with the gadgets and equipment. The entire vault was in flames, black smoke filling the room as the impact of the explosion knocked some of the smaller items onto the floor.

The Riddler was delighted, posing after the fiery blast. His face clenched in an evil smile, casting a shadow behind his eyes, making it as if they were completely black behind his eye mask.

---

Bruce, Selina and Chase fled up the giant staircase, hearing shouts behind them. One of the thugs leapt forward, getting a fistful of Chase’s dress. She went down and then lashed out with a mighty kick, knocking the thug backwards down the stairs.

"It’s therapeutic," commented Chase. 

Two-Faced watched the commotion below them, grinning deviously and tapping his fingers against his armrest in anticipation. He flipped his coin to determine the blonde psychologist's fate, and it was heads again. 

"Goddamn it..." growled Two-Face before taking a sip of scotch that he found nearby.

---

The Riddler continues his onslaught, throwing more bombs around like a crazed maniac. He danced forward to the catwalk, throwing two more all the way down to the bottom while he was at it before thrusting his crotch out in perfect sync with the explosion below the lower platform.

He paused for a second, picturing himself on a baseball field, watching the home run fly over. Then the Riddler threw the bomb and watched in triumph as both exploded simultaneously, obliterating the Bat symbol that held the video wall behind it, along with the console which was connected to everything else in the cave.

He turned away, scraping dirt with his foot behind him as he walked across the grating bridge.

---

Bruce, meantime, was holding off a couple more attackers, closing near the top step. He spun, a powerful roundhouse kick clocking one in the head, sending him backwards down the stairs. Selina was holding against her own with Spice once more, swinging her silverware viciously in the direction of the goth woman. Selina used this opportunity to push Spice further away from Bruce and with a roar, she threw her against the wall with an impact that knocked the breath out of her. 

"Go!" Bruce shouted to the women.

---

He spotted, in the near distance, the Batmobile on the turntable. 

"Somebody tell the fat lady she was on in five," said the Riddler with a smirk on his face, leaning his hand against the edge of the car, and casually dropping the pouch that contained the bombs on the driver's seat of the Batmobile, watching it shake wildly. 

And as he headed out of the cave, the Riddler plucked out his cane from the floor and claimed a few steps up the rocks stairway before he turned around with a wide grin on his face. He pointed his cane at the Batmobile and pressed the button to detonate. 

A massive, violent explosion filled the air that nearly rocked the foundations of the entire cave. The Batmobile was engulfed in flames, exploding, sending shards flying. From the outside, it was virtually impregnable. From the inside, it was less so, and within seconds it became a huge, flaming slab of black metal.

The Riddler was satisfied with his destructive handiwork, laughing and cackling in delight, twirling his cane between his fingers.

"JOYGASM!" cried the Riddler in celebration, spinning his cane around in victory before departing the burning cave.

---

Within the closet into which he’d been tossed, Alfred, still woozy from the blow to the head, tried the doorknob. Locked. Undeterred, he then activated his wrist-comm device.

"911," he said, and the autodialer went to work.

---

Selina and Chase moved behind him, up the landing, turning to see Bruce fell another with a spinning back kick, a third with a flying back fist. They started again toward the top of the stairs, and it looked increasingly as if they were going to make it. Every path he took, he kept running into thugs. The house was crawling with them. He had lost count of how many times he'd been sent flying or kicked down those steps. Sugar made a beeline for Selina, who turned just in time to receive a punch from Chase, which almost sent her staggering back down the stairs. She managed to regain her footing but stumbled slightly. Bruce could hardly take his eyes off of the three thugs making their way to where he stood with the ladies. He spun to give one thug a roundhouse kick that sent him tumbling.

Two-Face stood watching the carnage unfold with some amusement. 

"A chance to live, a chance to die," he intoned. "Lady Luck makes her decrees and we can do naught but slavishly follow," he smiled darkly to himself, flipping the coin one more time for Bruce's benefit. 

The scarred side of the coin winked up at him.

"Finally," laughed Two-Face, then pulled out his gun, aimed, and fired.

At the top of the stairs, the bullet grazed Bruce Wayne’s head.

"BRUCE!!!" screamed Selina in horror. 

Chase shrieked as well, jumping back a good twenty paces as she and a distraught Selina watched Bruce pitched back and tumbled the length of the stairs to the bottom. An instant later several thugs had closed in, Selina trying as hard as she could, but her eyes were glancing wildly around desperately as her mind flashed back to that dreadful night. Laying on the cold, snowy floor in the alleyway with cats surrounding her lifeless body, hearing their meows and scratching claws against her skin, feeling the icy air seeping into her clothes.

She hadn't even noticed the mayhem around her, and now the thugs were advancing on her and Chase, who continued to look at Bruce's fallen body at the bottom of the stairs in disbelief. She was being hoisted up by one man, and she was struggling weakly against him, seeing that both she and Selina were being outnumbered and there was no chance they would win this fight. Chase turned her head in time to notice that Selina was struggling harder than ever against the second thug pinning her arms in his grasp and noticed something wrong with her. 

"No! Get away!" cried out Selina, looking as if she was not aware of the thugs. "You're dead! No way you're here, Shreck!"

Chase's eyes widened in fear upon seeing Selina's state, recognizing immediately what was happening right before her very eyes. Her PTSD was resurfacing and she was starting to panic. 

"Selina!" yelled Chase in desperation. "He's not here! You need to fight it! Fight your instincts!"

Selina couldn't hear anything Chase was saying, and she struggled furiously against the hold of her captors. All around her, she couldn't even see a group of Two-Face's thugs anymore. All she could see in her trance was that their masked faces were replaced by a smug, satisfied grin of Max Shreck. She struggled even harder, feeling like she could break loose any minute.

Two-Face stood from his chair to gleefully make way for Bruce's limp form and aimed his gun directly at his head, preparing the final blow to end his life the man that ruined his. Finally, revenge would be served and Bruce Wayne would finally be eliminated from the picture.

"NO!!" screeched a voice of protest so loud that it echoed through every corner of the mansion. 

Two-Face looked up to see the Riddler pointing his cane at him menacingly, with a fierce look in his eyes. 

"Don't kill him," ordered the Riddler calmly as he stepped down from his place on the stairs. "If you kill him..."

He placed an expensive-looking gold box next to Bruce, and it had a green question mark on the top lid and another that was next to each other on the side. Two-Face looked on in suspicion as the Riddler opened the lid to reveal the lettering, 'We’re five little items of an everyday sort.' It was yet another riddle, but unlike the other riddles he made previously, this one was different and more on the high budget. It had what appeared to be like a miniature, electronic tennis court. There was a ball bouncing that had a photo of Bruce, and it was bouncing back and forth between the rackets that were shaped like question mark symbols. 

"...you won't learn nothing." he finished. 

Two-Face let out a cackle of laughter, and the Riddler joined in, twirling his cane in his hands victoriously. They made a dash for the exit, laughing all the while with the thugs dragging Selina and Chase, who were struggling to break free from their grasp while Sugar and Spice were taunting the captive women. 

"Bruce! Bruce!" Chase screamed, struggling desperately.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" snapped Selina angrily, seemingly recovered from her PTSD episode, and was frantically trying to pry off the thugs' grips. "You pieces of shit! Bruce! Help us! BRUCE!!!"

Their cries for help were growing distant and fading, and they disappeared into the night, leaving Bruce laying at the foot of the stairs. There was silence for a few seconds before it was broken by wails of police sirens outside.

---

And somewhere far below, as fire licked through the costume vault, the Bat emblems began to burn.

---

The next morning...

"The injuries are relatively minor," explained the doctor to Alfred. "The shot did cause a concussion. Watch for headaches. Memory lapses. Odd behaviour. I’ll check back in a few days."

The butler smiled thinly at the doctor, easily repressing the urge to inform him that the term 'odd behaviour' was a fairly elastic one when applied to Bruce Wayne. 

Seated upright in his bed, Bruce blinked against the morning sun as the doctor finished packing up. Alfred had been less than ecstatic with the presence of the physician, in the event that the battered and dazed Bruce might say something 'incriminating.' But he’d had no choice. When the police had arrived, with Commissioner Gordon in the lead considering that it was Wayne Manor under assault, Alfred had felt constrained to say that it was indeed Two-Face and the Riddler who had led the assault. Again, no choice: If Bruce had blurted something out in his semiconscious state, Alfred would have been questioned as to why he was covering up. Besides, he reasoned, Miss Kyle and Dr. Meridian’s kidnapping really did warrant alerting the constabulary.

Ironically, Gordon’s confident.

"Don’t worry, Mr. Pennyworth," assured Gordon. "We’re going to call in Batman on this one."

Gordon also wanted to take Wayne to the hospital, which Alfred managed to avoid by promising to bring a doctor to the house immediately. He reflected at that moment that perhaps the single most significant thing about the Wayne fortune was that it had actually prompted a doctor to make a house call. He led the physician out, and then quickly returned to Bruce’s bedside.

"Master Bruce," said Alfred softly. "How are you feeling, young man?"

"You hadn't called me that in a long time," Bruce smiled wanly, with Miss Kitty jumping onto the bed beside him. 

"Old habits die hard," murmured Alfred, smiling softly as well. "Are you all right?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess," murmured Bruce. "And you?"

Alfred rapped his head a couple of times. "Oh, I’ve had the odd cricket ball or two ricocheted off my skull on occasion. Compared to that, my current stress was minimal," he chuckled.

Bruce leaned back against the bed, sighing gently. The silence lingered between them for some time but, Bruce felt in his guts something wasn't right. Despite the peaceful, relaxed atmosphere in the manor, something felt off. It felt like someone was missing. That someone, or two people rather, should be present. The two most important women in his life weren't at his bedside, and nor were they around the manor.

"Where's Selina and Chase?" asked Bruce abruptly, sitting up and looking around the room to find neither of them in sight. 

"I'm afraid they've taken both Dr. Meridian and Miss Kyle," told Alfred gravely. "Master Dick has ran away. The cave has been destroyed. And there's another riddle." 

Bruce stared at him for several seconds, trying to process what the butler had just informed him. What the hell just happened last night? Selina and Chase abducted? Dick ran away? The cave destroyed? And there was yet another riddle? Dread settled into the pit of Bruce’s stomach as if waiting for something. Something big, something bad, something dangerous.

It was only what was yet to come... 

A/N: Finally, finally, FINALLY after many months of delays and severe writer's block, I've managed to complete the latest chapter that was long, LONG overdue to be done! Firstly, I would like to apologize to my faithful readers who have waited patiently for this chapter to come out and for leaving this story in the dust for about close to a year. If any of you thought I would abandon this story along with this series, I'll explain why it took me this long to finish it. I've encountered a lot of problems technical-wise, and it was because my old external hard drive where I saved most of my fics along with everything else I saved got corrupted thanks to loose USB ports on my old laptop which was falling apart after 6 years. This leads to the next point concerning getting a permanent laptop replacement. It was a fucking nightmare trying to find a working, stable laptop that would keep up with everything you folks have no idea... I have bought 2 on eBay on separate occasions, one of which was slow as fuck and the other could barely do anything which looked like a beginner's laptop that was about £100! Yeah, stupid me didn't know any better... The third one I got this past Christmas was actually a decent-sized laptop that was well about a year old and thought all the stress and anger I had to endure would be well behind me when I got it. And guess what? More fucking problems! This thing underwent 4 reboots! Yes, you've read right, 4 fucking reboots under one month alone! All because it kept slowing down and restarting it to get it to run smoothly, and each time I do it, it just wouldn't comply with anything! The fifth time it decided to be a complete shithead, I sent it to a laptop clinic, only for them to tell me 2 days later it's dead. The guy who previously owned the laptop before I took it, had messed about with the inner board or maybe the hard drive that was the cause of this thing slowing down. Well, that's what happens when he messed about with something he claimed he knew what he was doing when in reality, he doesn't. Seriously, he just doesn't have a fucking clue. What's laughable is that he claimed that this is a good laptop and that he knew what he was doing and not the guys at the clinic who knows how to repair them and get the job done properly! Pffft, yeah, you're talking out of your arse, mate! You can take your so-called "good laptop" and stick it where the sun doesn't fucking shine!! The last two laptops were from Lenovo, which I've heard had received so many negative reviews concerning their products, and after what I had to experience with this slow piece of crap, I can incline to say that I agree with what the reviews say 100%! Seriously, those Lenovo pricks can all fuck off for making such horrendous cheap shit that barely works! And the most mind-boggling about the whole thing is, my old laptop from 2015 is in a right, battered state, with its hinges barely hanging on, its plastic coverings cracked and the screen destroyed, it's still running so smoothly compared to the one from 2020 that keeps slowing down and rebooting whenever it likes. It goes to show you, doesn't it? Anyway, rant over. After all that grief, I've got myself a new Dell laptop with a Windows 11 upgrade and so far, I'm impressed with it. It took me a few adjustments to get used to it compared to the old Windows 10, but so far I've not encountered any problems or showing signs of slowing down.

Now, onto the fanfic side of things. I bet you all never expected Selina to get captured, did you? Now with the couple's identities exposed, the cave destroyed, Dick running away and Ridder and Two-Face both seemingly unstoppable, how will Bruce overcome those challenging situations, and will he find inner peace and bring balance to his duality? Will he free Selina and Chase from the villain's capture? Find out more in the climax, which I'm sincerely hoping it shouldn't take too long as I did with this chapter. Again, I apologize for leaving it due to so many problems I had to deal with. Peace!

Chapter 7: The Real Game Begins

Commissioner Gordon stood next to the signal, staring up at the Bat shaped light against the sky. 

"Where is he?" he demanded. 

Detective Bullock swayed out onto the roof, "The mayor's called again," he announced in his gravelly voice. 

He looked up at the signal, and then back at Gordon. "He’s not going to show. Maybe he’s hurt, sir. Maybe he’s..."

"Don’t even think of it."

---

In the Riddler’s control room on Claw Island, Selina and Chase had been chained next to each other on the green couch with question marks all over it. Both women were struggling against their bindings to get free, but they weren’t going anywhere. 

"Damn it, this is hopeless," hissed Selina as she struggled with her restraints, but there was nothing she could do about them. "That's just my luck. Just when me and Bruce were about to take things further with you after we've confessed our identities, and before either of us knew it, we ended up captured and dragged here to this island hideout."

"Well, at least we're here together," said Chase, trying to smile. "It might be worse than what we imagined."

Selina sighed in frustration but nodded, "I guess you're right." She leaned back on the couch, shifting uncomfortably against the restraints. "But I'm not so sure what the worst-case scenario is gonna be like, and neither have the slightest idea what the Riddler has planned for us. And frankly, it would creep me out less if he just told us outright what was coming and put an end to the suspense."

Chase shrugged and smiled again, "Me too. Although you've known Bruce for 2 years shortly after becoming Catwoman, I suppose you think he has some sort of rescue plan prepared?"

"He always does," replied Selina confidently, looking up toward the ceiling. "I know what the odds are that whatever scheme he came up with, it'll work. During those 2 years before you came along to the scene, he never let a mission go to waste even if it meant risking one of us getting hurt or killed. There's something incredibly noble in that attitude, don't you think?"

Chase chuckled and shook her head slightly, "There is something very noble in that attitude, yes. Though I only just figured out that you two were Batman and Catwoman, it took me this long to put the two and two together, which, honestly, I'm still kinda shocked that I did. In hindsight, it seems obvious why he's kept such secrets from me for the past week or so. You two must have been very close."

"We're still are," Selina confirmed with a nod, her mind going back to her and Bruce's first meeting with the blonde psychologist outside the Second National Bank of Gotham after Two-Face escaped from Arkham. "Though it's funny that when me and Bruce first met you, I must admit I felt threatened by the way you flirted and put all the moves on him. It wasn't new to me, cus I've seen first-hand that other women were swooning after him and were jealous of the fact that I had them beat when I had my claws wrapped around him, no pun intended. Then, you arrive with your flirtatious mannerisms and all the attention you gave him and living off the thrill I picked up from you, I start second guessing my own jealousy."

"Oh really?" asked Chase with a slight grin. "I guessed you were jealous when we first met, you seemed pretty defensive that night at the Second National Bank of Gotham."

Selina laughed lightly and shrugged, "Maybe I was, and then you pulled all the moves on me and on the GCPD rooftop, telling both me and Bruce that you have a thing for rubber and latex. Remember that?" 

"Yes," admitted Chase with a small laugh, "Although I was definitely getting into the good part of  the tease with the latter part of that sentence." She paused for a moment before speaking again, "Tell me, Selina. What exactly have you felt when I flirted with you during those two meetings?"

"Because I wasn't expecting it," responded Selina with a flustered look, but couldn't help but let out an amused smirk, "I normally get that from men from all kinds of places whenever I was either Catwoman or myself, but never from another woman. But then you flirted with me, and I couldn't help but react to how I felt. Not because I wanted to, you know?  I mean, you gave me something within me I never thought I'd known existed."

"Something more than a simple attraction?" inquired Chase as she sat forward in her seat and moved closer to Selina, watching her face intently.

Selina blushed slightly, unable to look at her directly as she spoke again, "I thought it wasn't at that time, but the second time on that rooftop with Bruce, it hit me full force about your kinks and how much you want us as Batman and Catwoman that expressed my strong desire to get to know you better and become friends. Well, friends are not exactly a strong word to use after our first time." 

Chase raised her eyebrows in interest, shifting slightly, wishing she could place her hands on the other blonde woman's if it weren't for those damn restraints. 

"That night you came to me for your appointment about your PTSD is what made you realize your sexuality and threw all the denials away, yes?" pressed Chase, taking note of how Selina averted her gaze from hers. 

Selina bit her lip nervously as a soft blush covered her cheeks, nodding slightly, "I know there's no denying that, but I really hadn't fully expected during those weeks since Harvey escaped from Arkham that I would end up with a woman, let alone in a three-way relationship with both you and Bruce. Never thought it would happen to be someone I originally disliked and have to face possible competition over Bruce's affections until the rooftop meeting along with that appointment where you pulled on the moves on me afterwards. Now over the course, I've learned that you're not like other women out there who'd want Bruce for themselves. I've grown to  care deeply for both you and Bruce, and can't help but hope that maybe we could become close someday, especially now that you know who we actually are and even  what we do."

Chase blinked at the information, surprised by how well Selina had read her. 

It wasn't often that someone got through her carefully constructed mask of indifference and cool indifference with ease, so having someone tell her these things without being suspicious of anything they may say or even do was strange, though perhaps it shouldn't have been. This was Selina after all, the woman who knew her worth and had worked hard and earned all the respect and admiration she deserved. She wasn't surprised that the blonde had a gift with words and insight and that she would recognize how much she cared and trusted Bruce. The doctor could tell even from afar that Selina hadn't exactly had a happy life before becoming Catwoman, and yet she had managed to grow to love Bruce and accept him, just as she had accepted Chase.

And that was one of the many reasons Selina was such a fantastic partner to Bruce, and Chase couldn't help but envy her a little. 

Chase chuckled softly and shook her head, "Well, I thought it was my job to look through people's psyches," she joked. "I hadn't exactly got a degree in psychology for nothing, you know."

"You do it beautifully," commented Selina, smirking, causing Chase to blush slightly, "You've got a real flair for reading people's personalities and emotions, despite what they think. And your compassion, empathy, your determination and kindness…it's quite inspiring to see."

Chase smiled slightly at Selina. She didn't want to show too much emotion in front of the others, but it seemed Selina's comment about her empathy was enough to make her feel warm inside. 

"I appreciate that you know?" Chase replied softly.

"Seeing as I know that you're capable of it, I can see that I want this three-way thing with you and Bruce to work,"  continued Selina. "And while that might take some getting used to, I'm willing to learn more and be more open to change. And..." She paused for a moment and cleared her throat, "And I wanna say I'm sorry that we got off to a bit of a rocky start in our first meeting. If I ever acted too harshly in my dealings as far as Bruce is concerned, 'm sorry, I know that doesn't excuse it, but it's true."

Chase smiled and shook her head, "There's no need, Selina," she insisted sincerely. "I'm over it. Besides, I'm glad we were able to find common ground with each other as quickly as we did. I understood that you thought I would get Bruce from under your nose, and this three-way relationship just happened naturally as a result, but I understand how difficult it can be to accept that you and Bruce share a similar outlook and understanding of life. I'd say that's the perfect opportunity to bridge the gap between us and make peace with our differences, wouldn't you say?"

Selina nodded with a smile, "You're right," she agreed. "I guess that explains a lot."

They shared a pleasant laugh and exchanged a few more pleasantries before Chase looked at Selina curiously and raised an eyebrow slightly. 

"When this is all over," she began, "I need a full explanation about your early outings as Catwoman after your boss pushed you out and how you actually met Bruce."

Selina smiled sheepishly, "Alright...I'm sure that the story isn't entirely appropriate for you to hear just yet, not in the situation we're in right now, but I promise that you'll get an explanation soon, alright?"

"Fair enough," said Chase with a smile. 

The women fell quiet for a minute longer before they heard a voice coming from a distance, interrupting their thoughts.

"I'm coming, my sweet!" came the familiar chirpy voice belonging to the Riddler, who jogged into the room with his usual swag. 

He stopped short to pose dramatically with his wide, wicked smile in front of the women, and the jacket he was wearing lit up momentarily, with green LED question marks flashing in sequence all around it. Neither Selina nor Chase was impressed with his antics, but both decided to remain silent as Selina glared at him coldly.

"Like the jacket?" asked the Riddler as a small, smug smile formed in response. "It keeps me safe when I'm jogging at night."

"You really should have considered therapy," Chase said gamely.

"Sorry. Not in the Nygmatech health plan. Maybe next year," he said, without looking at her.

"You know Batman will come for us," stated Selina seriously, "Don't think for a second that he won't."

"Your Bat’s gonna come, your Bat’s gonna come," the Riddler repeated sarcastically with the same cocky grin and arrogant tone as he walked towards Selina and Chase. "Oh, I'm counting on it, sweet cheeks."

He then studied them with an appraising stare. "You two have a thing for him, don’t you? I can tell. I can tell everything," A sly smile graced his features, looking as if he had struck gold. "So, does that mean that you two are together with him? Ooooh, this is very interesting!" 

He rubbed his hands together gleefully, glancing between the two women with an expectant expression on his face, clearly enjoying himself thoroughly.

Selina's jaw clenched tightly, not knowing whether to punch him in the face or simply kick him in the groin, she wasn't exactly sure. 

Wait... 

What exactly did he mean by he can tell everything?

She thought back to that night hours before Stickley's suicide when Edward showed his invention to Bruce, a device that could stimulate and neutralize brain waves by manipulating the neuron waves from within them, making the individual unable to control their own movements and actions by having the patterns sucked from one brain to another.

Selina's green eyes widen in horror, her blood growing cold at the realization of the implications of what the villain meant. She had suspected something, but to have it confirmed so bluntly was rather frightening when she put everything related to the Riddler altogether. It can't be... There's no way that this man dressed in flashy LEDS and a ridiculous haircut was not the person she thought he was. 

No way... 

She had to be wrong.

Chase, on the other hand, remained calm. 

"There’s a reason we only use a fraction of our brains," Chase said evenly. "You’re cutting neural pathways faster than your consciousness can incorporate them. You’re frying your mind."

"Major buzz kill," said the Riddler as he shrugged. "Spoil the mood, why don’t you?  I was hoping to give you a surprise, not ruin it for you."

"Not surprising in the least," said Chase calmly.

"You two don’t have much of a choice. You know how much danger you’re putting yourselves in, right?" The villain asked as he leaned against one of the tables beside them. He turned to Selina, who was staring wide-eyed and tensely.

"And what's with you, kitty cat?" he added playfully. "One of your nine lives already lost? No need to act so tense," he grinned widely.

Selina narrowed her eyes. Her eyes darkened threateningly and she narrowed her eyes at the villain, "Is this why you're doing this? All of this is to simply get back at Bruce for rejecting your offer and your project? All of this you poured into this Box of yours, sucking brain waves across the city just to get petty revenge on him because you can't take a simple no for an answer. Yeah, it all makes perfect sense now, doesn't it?" she snapped angrily, her eyes burning with intensity. "This is an act of a bullied nerd who let everyone walk all over him all his life, isn't it? This is your way of showing the whole damn world that your manufactured superiority is just a complete facade to mask how weak and pitiful you really are. Your actions don't justify it, cus I already figured it out and frankly, it doesn't matter to you at all, doesn't it? After all, you think people with below intelligence are beneath you. Am I not wrong... Mr. Edward Nygma?" Selina sneered, her face contorted with anger, while her eyes pierced straight into the criminal with pure contempt and spite.

The Riddler, who was still leaning casually against the table, glanced briefly at her, then smirked deviously, "Ding ding ding! Give this lady a gold star for figuring out the truth so fast, eh? So you are smarter than you seem," he remarked teasingly. 

Chase looked at Selina with a mixture of confusion, shock, and disbelief.

"Wait, that's Edward?" she questioned, surprised.

"Yeah..." responded Selina quietly. "And you're gonna love what I'm about to say next, Chase," her voice was dripping with sarcasm and malice. 

Chase stared at her in bewilderment as Selina glared at the villain, her expression menacing and fierce. 

"Those riddles that were sent to Bruce," she snarled, her voice laced with venom, "They were all from you, weren't they? Should've known earlier that the first one you placed at the reception after you left Wayne Enterprises. The cutaway words from old newspapers and magazines that looked rushed, along with a photo of Bruce. Are you really that obsessive with him? Guess that makes sense why you don't go for women, but I hate to break it to you, but Bruce doesn't swing that way."

The Riddler's grin vanished, replaced by a scowl as he thought he saw Chase trying to suppress a smirk and failing miserably. 

"Also," Selina added with a malicious smirk. "The night Stickley had supposedly committed suicide was also the night you realized what your invention could do, am I correct?"

Edward suddenly became very interested in his fingernails, looking incredibly nervous, while Chase was struggling to maintain a poker face.

"Well," continued Selina smugly, "I bet my money that you killed Stickley to cover it all up and have it appear that he jumped off the window. The security recording that Gordon showed us the morning after was a fake, wasn't it? I mean, why else would he kill himself out of the blue like that when he showed absolutely no sign of any mental illness whatsoever? Wanna know why? It's because you're afraid. Afraid that he would report your mind-raping machine to the authorities cus you know deep down you would be sued and found guilty in the court of law if Stickley got the word out, but no. Your ego and your pride wouldn't allow it. So, you took matters into your own hands, didn't you? Cus that's the only way for you to get yourself out of this by killing the man who had a family in a very cowardly way."  

The Riddler remained silent, but there was an obvious tension in the air that neither Selina nor Chase missed.

"Only last night when you and your posse raided my own home so you can kidnap both me and Chase," continued Selina slowly, almost mockingly, glaring daggers at the villain. "I'm guessing that was after you discovered our secret identities after the incident at the Ritz. I shouldn't be surprised you offered Bruce to try out one of your fancy gizmos and took the information out of him. How typical of you. During that said raid, I didn't even see you among the party, bet you were down at the cave destroying everything in your wake," she scoffed, "But you must have had a good laugh after all the suits and gadgets I worked hard on. Again, you wanted to prove yourself you think you're better than Bruce, or correction, you wanted to be him." 

Selina paused, eyeing him carefully, gauging his reaction and waiting for his reaction. Chase just looked at her knowingly,  giving her enough time to finish and get some answers.

"That's why you went after him, wasn't it?" Selina pressed on, raising her voice with each word. "Because you're a narcissistic asshole whose self-worth is only measured by someone who believes to be so much better than everyone else when in reality, you're a loser! That's what you are, Nygma! A goddamn loser could've just left things well enough alone after one rejection and just move on, but oh no! Your overgrown ego has to do things for you and let it get the better of you and bite back against those who wronged you so you can feel good about yourself! I've never liked you! I always loathed you from day one! You are nothing but mere dirt underneath my feet! Why the hell would I let someone like you read my mind and invade my private life for your own sick pleasure like you've done to the rest of Gotham, you slimy son of a bitch!"  

Selina damn near hissed at him, restraining aggressively against the chains with immense effort.

"Hey!" exclaimed the Riddler, whipping out a spray bottle to spray some water in Selina's face. "Bad kitty! Bad kitty!" He laughed maniacally, clearly enjoying the situation he was in and relishing in making her angry. "Good thing I tied your claws together, otherwise you'd have scratched my eyes out!"

"You think you're funny, don't you?" growled Selina as she clenched her jaw and struggled against her shackles. She knew he would enjoy seeing her struggling helplessly, knowing it would infuriate her. 

"What are you going to do to us?" Chase murmured.

"It's not what I'm gonna do to you," the Riddler smirked, walking closer toward them menacingly, he pulled a hypo from his jacket pocket. It was filled with green liquid. "It's what they are going to do to you, and they are very anxious to have their way with you ladies." 

He pointed the needle towards Chase and plunged it into her neck, injecting the doctor with the sedative. Chase tried to fight, but the drug started working instantly and soon, the woman collapsed limply onto the chair in front of the counter. He approached Selina with another syringe filled with the same poison. 

"Don't you come near me, you sick fuck!" Selina hissed viciously, her eyes blazing with fury.

Edward merely smiled cruelly at her before he injected the liquid into her neck before she passed out. 

An hour later, Selina stirred slightly, her body feeling strangely heavy and sluggish all of a sudden. She felt nauseous and dizzy and she groaned quietly as she moved. Chase was also stirring beside her, her eyes blinking open as she came to and rubbed her head. 

"You're finally awake," came a flirtatious feminine voice.

Both Selina and Chase turned their heads to look at where the sound had come from. Sugar and Spice entered the room in their usual attire with grins that promised trouble and mischief. 

"Oh, we have so much fun, tonight ladies," giggled Sugar, winking at Selina seductively. "How do you like the new outfit." 

Selina knitted her brows in confusion for a second before glancing down at herself and her eyes widen slightly when she saw what she was wearing. She was clad in a much skimpier version of her Catwoman costume. This one was a pair of black leather gloves with matching boots, a black latex corset and what she could feel around her face was a cat-themed cowl. She gasped at the sight of herself and turned bright red, embarrassed beyond belief. She turned her head to Chase, who was in a similar predicament, looking mortified as well, realizing she was wearing similar attire to hers. There were two differences in the doctor's outfit compared to Selina's was that her corset was in leather and she was lacking the mask. 

The bound women turned away to hide their faces as the villains laughed hysterically, unable to hold themselves back.

"Since we blew up your old ones we felt these would suffice," Spice laughed holding up her whip. "We felt these would suffice," she grinned broadly. "I've always wanted to see what Catwoman looked like tied up and helpless."

"And what's this about?" asked Chase sharply, struggling with her bounds.

"That's just something we use to get our babe hard off, and I think it looks delicious on you, Chase baby," replied Sugar in a husky voice, smiling as she stepped forward.

"What do you two plan to do with us?" demanded the blonde psychologist. 

"Well, we thought after last night you two would like to have a little fun," Spice winked again, stepping closer to the bound woman. "But don't worry sweetheart, We'll make sure you won't forget it."

She reached out and ran her fingers through Chase's hair, involuntarily causing the doctor to shiver. Selina gritted her teeth, glaring hatefully at Spice, who noticed her expression and giggled evilly.

"Yeah especially since your Batbow isn't here to save you," giggled Sugar, angering both women. "Oh don't be so mad he's not dead, Eddie has plans for him and you two."

At her words, Chase and Selina glared at her.

"Ooooh," cooed Spice, grabbing Selina's face between her thumb and index finger, mushing her cheeks. "I'm gonna have so much fun with this one," she breathed into Selina's ear. 

The bound woman just snarled and glared defiantly at Spice, her expression murderous. She wished she still had her claws with her right now if she wasn't tied behind her back. Probably would've scratched this whore's face off long before she could kill her.

Spice just merely grinned at her.

"Oooh, if looks could kill," she chuckled, before reaching up and pinching Selina's cheek playfully. 

"Hey! How come you get the kitty cat?" Sugar argued. "It should be me!"

"Because I want to show her who is the actual dominant one," replied Spice, grinning smugly at the other two women who were seething angrily at them. "After all, you two are so small compared to me, but I know you can do anything so long as I'm standing next to you." She reached up and stroked Selina's cheek once more. "Besides, you're the one she likes, sweetie so, how about we do what Harvey would do," she suggested, holding out a coin. 

"Ah," Sugar said, catching her drift. "So the winner gets to have fun with the kitty and the other gets the Doc."

"Exactly," Spice nodded, turning to look at Selina. "I call tails."

"Heads," answered Sugar, nodding too. 

"Okay then," Spice tossed the coin, which landed with a clink.

Selina and Chase watched in disbelief as the coin flipped through the air, unsure what was happening to them and wondering how the hell they ended up in such a position. When the coin landed on Spice's open palm, watching her and Sugar plaster devilish grins on their faces with malicious intent made them understand exactly what was going to happen to them. And it wasn't pretty.

"This is humiliating," groaned Selina. 

"Oh, I bet it is, honey," Sugar agreed, laughing heartily. "But you gotta take that kind of humiliation, sometimes."

Chase only shook her head at this, "Either way, we're being subjected to being your slaves, aren't we?"

"Of course, darling," grinned Spice. "You're our entertainment for tonight! Something to keep ourselves occupied until the Bat-brain shows up."

Spice looked down at her hand where the coin landed, and her grin widened impossibly. It was tails.

"I get the kitty cat!" squealed Spice, pumping her fist high in the air. "Yes!"

She grabbed Selina's face and smushed it in her hands roughly as she stared at it lovingly. The stunned blonde woman grunted in discomfort, as Spice continued staring at her mouth, licking her lips eagerly.

"I'm gonna show you how it's done, Kitty," whispered Spice, holding out a ball gag to her. "Soon, you will learn to know your place and face me as your superior instead of trying to be a hero."

Before Selina could even digest what was happening to her, Spice shoved a ball gag into her mouth forcefully and tightened it tightly before securing it tightly against her lips, making her muffle the sounds she was trying to let out with it. Sugar strutted her way over to Chase who had been struggling against her bonds futilely.

"No use struggling, my dear," Sugar told the blonde psychologist in a mocking tone, holding out another ball gag. "There'll be drastic measures necessary to make sure you stay quiet."

"You'll never win this," warned Chase, narrowing her eyes at her captor. "Even if you place us in this game of yours, Batman would find a way to free us. Don't underestimate him."

"Oh trust me, Sweetums," Sugar grinned wickedly. "Eddie has something planned for him as we said, and I am absolutely certain that he would comply with this game he intended for him to play involving you and the pussy cat."

"He won't succeed," Chase growled stubbornly.

"Then I guess we'll just have to see how this goes," purred Sugar as she mushed the doctor's face to place a gag firmly onto her lips.

Sugar and Spice stood back a bit to inspect their work as they exchanged satisfied smiles and high-fived each other. Both Selina and Chase were now bound and gagged, and both of their faces looked absolutely livid. They were completely powerless to stop or change the situation currently occurring to them. All they could do was glare death daggers at their respective tormentors.

"Ooooooh, don't they look sooooo hot like this, baby," purred Sugar, grinding her body against Spice's, sending a shiver down her spine. "We really should take care of them before we start the party."

"Good idea, Honey," grinned Spice wickedly, wrapping an arm around the shorter woman's waist. "Maybe I should give the kitty cat some foreplay while you prepare the goodies for dessert with the Doc?"

"Mmmm, sounds good to me," smirked Sugar, biting her lip suggestively.

Spice approached Selina, uncoiling her whip from around her wrist, and placed it on the back of her neck before the goth woman extended her leg to place her heeled foot on the feline's shoulder. A low, muffled groan came from her throat as she felt being dragged up close against the taller woman. Selina tried her best not to look at her captor's eyes, but she couldn't help but gaze over Spice's stocking-covered leg which stretched above her thigh. She was so close, just a little bit farther and she would feel Spice's firm breasts pressed against her chest. She doesn't want to admit it to herself,  but her imagination ran wild imagining how hot Spice's body would taste, especially where her legs are concerned. 

Spice grinned softly at her, noticing how aroused her captive looked.

"You like my legs?" purred Spice lowly, wiggling her brows suggestively. "Don't pretend I hadn't noticed. I saw the way you look at them just now..." she trailed off, leaning forward to trail her tongue across Selina's cheek, leaving a wet trail of saliva before she pulled away.

A shiver coursed down Selina's spine as she felt Spice's breasts brushing against hers as she leaned back.

"I bet you wanna touch those legs right now," teased Spice seductively, rubbing her breasts against Selina's. "You want them wrapped around you and giving you everything you need, don't you? If you be a good kitty, which I doubt you will,  I might consider letting you lick every inch of them."

Sugar watched the scene unfold before her in both amusement and arousal. She shuddered noticeably at the action happening in front of her, licking her lips hungrily as her pussy was getting damp.

"Kinky," commented Sugar appreciatively. "Very kinky..."

She slowly turned her head to Chase, who was watching them with narrowed eyes. She noticed the doctor's face flushed red when she was making over to her with an intense sparkle in her eyes, and she could practically feel the lusty glint in her own. Sugar chose to find a spot for her to sit on, which was Chase's lap as she straddled her. 

She gave a deep, throaty laugh at the look on Chase's face, as she began running her hands through her hair, feeling how soft it was between her fingers. 

"Do you know how much you're gonna enjoy this tonight, Doc?" Sugar asked with a grin. "Your mind is telling you no, but I think you know deep down your body is telling you otherwise. What say we take advantage of this, hmm?"

Chase just muffled against her ball gag, looking helplessly in the opposite direction as Sugar bent forward, wrapping her arm around her shoulders and pulling the blonde closer to her. 

"A pity I could've given the pussy cat the same treatment I'm giving you," lamented Sugar. "But you, on the other hand, I say you're quite ravishing yourself. In fact, since you're a psychiatrist, maybe you should give someone like me a therapy session and diagnose me as a gorgeous, sex-addict slut. Maybe I'll bring out a nurse's outfit as a cherry on top." she winked mischievously.

Chase's cheeks darkened further at that comment, and she couldn't even deny it. There was no denying that she found Sugar very attractive. Her curves were perfect and her skin shone, making her glow in the low lights of the lab. It also didn't help that she had a pair of perfectly shapely ass cheeks, which made Chase wonder about the number of times they've been rubbed together. 

Her thoughts were cut short when Sugar grinned flirtatiously at her, "Thoughts dwelling on little ol' me?" she inquired coyly. "How naughty. Flattering, but naughty. In the meantime, I think I should start by giving you your first lesson on how a dominatrix behaves. First, you are not going to move anything unless you are ordered to. Now, let me have a good look at you, baby..." she cooed sweetly, tracing her fingers along Chase's jawline before gently cupping her chin as she tilted her head upward to observe her properly.

Chase could only groan under the gag in frustration at her inability to move, her heart racing when she felt a pair of lips kissing and pecking along her neck and collar bone that she couldn't help but shudder as her nipples stiffened slightly at the unexpected sensation.

Both she and Selina could only do so much in this present time, and all they were doing was trying to remain silent despite their growing passion. All they could do right now is to let their captors have their way with their bodies, which granted was not as bad as it looked despite the humiliation they were going through. But it wasn't exactly pleasant either. The only relief the women got during this ordeal was that they weren't blindfolded. That meant they could get a good look at where they were being held, which was actually a very pleasant surprise for both Selina and Chase, but at the same time, it only made them more frustrated. They only have to put up a couple of hours of enduring what was happening, perhaps a bit longer before Bruce could come up with a plan to storm the island, which was going to be a long night for the two blondes.

---

Bullock rushed into Gordon’s office without bothering to knock, his face flushed red, "Commish, you better come and see this!" 

Gordon looked up from the paperwork on his desk at his lieutenant. He was about to dismiss him with a wave of his hand when he stopped to take in Bullock's expression. Something felt wrong and he pushed back from his desk. 

"Has there been an answer to the signal?" he asked, rising from his chair.

"Yes and no," Bullock replied quickly. "Come on!" 

He led the way out of Gordon's office, down the hall and up into the roof. Gordon followed Bullock to the GCPD roof and immediately saw it.

Indeed, it was fairly hard to miss.

A gigantic green question mark had positioned itself over the Batsignal, reducing the once impressive image to a small dot at the bottom, lighting up part of the roof bright green. 

The two men stood and stared at the newly transformed Riddlersignal for a moment, neither saying anything for long enough that it seemed as if the silence stretched uncomfortably. 

"I’m really starting to hate that guy..." Gordon muttered finally.

---

In the living room of Wayne Manor, Bruce stood over the four riddles that he had been given since the Riddler arrived on the scene, with Alfred sitting off to the side, analysing them. 

"We're five little items of an everyday sort," he said, reading it out loud, pressing the little button to read the next words. "You'll find us all in a tennis court." 

He picked up a pen and started circling letters in the words, "In... A-E-I-O-U. Vowels."

"Not entirely unclever, sir," Alfred pointed out. "But, what do a clock, a match, chess pawns and vowels have in common? What do these riddles mean?"

Bruce stared at the riddles for a moment, considering the meaning of the clues. He then looked at the number of each riddle, the letters and numbers surrounding it, and finally thought back to the first one he received at Wayne Enterprises about a week ago when he and Selina chatted to Margeret about receiving full benefits for Stickley's family shortly after his suicide. 

"Every riddle has a number in the question," he told his butler and started pacing around the room with a clipboard and pen. "And they arrived in this order: 13, 1, 8 and 5."

"13, 1, 8 and 5," Alfred mused, writing the numbers down and adding a couple of dots next to the digits. "Meaning?"

"Perhaps letters of the alphabet?" Bruce suggested. 

"Of course, 13 is M," Alfred responded, making a note of that on a separate sheet of paper. 

"1 would be A," Bruce continued, looking at the answer as he wrote it. "8 would be H, and 5 would be E."

"M-A-H-E,"  Alfred repeated, noting that fact down.

"Perhaps 1 and 8 are 18," Bruce speculated, stopping his pace in front of the fireplace. 

"18 is R," Alfred pointed out. "M-R-E."

Carefully, and trying not to sound patronizing, Bruce turned around, now carefully putting the pieces together to complete the solution. If he was right, the name of the last riddle would make sense too.

"How about Mr. E?"  Bruce asked, turning to look at Alfred for confirmation.

"Mystery?" Alfred read out. 

"Another name for mystery?" 

"Enigma!" confirmed the butler, realizing. 

Then, it all clicked. His mind went back to his first meeting with a certain eccentric scientist, how all the riddles were related somehow to him being an oddball and how it all tied together, and he knew exactly what he wanted to say. The invention was designed to tamper with brain waves to grow more intelligent from every citizen of Gotham that had bought his products. His sudden departure from Wayne Enterprises made so much more sense now as Bruce began to think back to the last conversations with him and the press conferences he held.

I want you to know. We'll be full partners in this, Bruce. Look at us. Two of a kind!

Who would send you a riddle?

That, Maggie, is the riddle.

Ah, that's not gonna be good enough for me. I need an answer now. I think I deserve it.

I'm sorry, Ed, then the answer's no.

Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you my vision. ‘The Box’ in every home in America. And one day, the world!

It beams any TV signal directly into the human brain. By stimulating neurons, manipulating brain waves if you will, this device makes the audience feel like they're inside the show!

Tampering with people's brain waves. Mind manipulation. It just raises too many questions.

Patient may suffer from obsessional syndrome with potential homicidal tendencies. He's obsessed with you. His only escape to maybe purge the fixation.

To kill me. 

"Mr. E. Nygma," Bruce announced, "Edward Nygma. What wasted genius..." 

He gave a moment’s thought and then added, "Stickley’s suicide must have been a computer-generated forgery. That must have been the night that Nygma first realized what his devices could do, and Stickley was in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was no suicide, never has been. It was all a cover-up orchestrated to make it look like he jumped out."

Bruce put the piece down and walked forward to leave the living room with Alfred following behind him.

"You really are quite bright, despite what people say," Alfred commented as the two stepped into the charred remains of the Batcave, trying to determine what options they had left to them. Bruce looked at the twisted metal wreck that had once been the Batmobile.

"Pretty bad, huh, Alfred?" he noted, picking up a piece of metal.

"We’ve repaired worse, sir," Alfred assured him.

"No, we haven’t," 

"The small comfort we can take, Alfred," he said, pushing a button on the platform on which the Batmobile’s charred frame sat, "Is that Edward didn’t know about what lays underneath the cave."

The platform started downward, slowly descending into the subterranean depths where, decades before, young Bruce Wayne had heard water running. It had been the next area that he had explored before discovering the higher portions, eventually settling on the upper sections for his main headquarters, and the lower regions for the storage of the Batboat and Batwing. Plus he also used that area for the testing of some of the larger equipment; working out the kinks in flame throwers, for example, was not a particularly viable idea in the upper reaches.

"What now, sir?" questioned Alfred.

"Claw Island," Bruce stated. "Nygma’s headquarters. I’m sure that’s where they’re keeping Selina and Chase." He paused and said, "Are all the Batsuits destroyed?"

Alfred seemed reluctant to bring it up, but he pointed to a darkened area of the cavern, "All of them, including Miss Kyle's suits, except the prototype with the radar modifications you’ve invented. But we haven’t had a successful test yet."

Bruce nodded, heading toward the area where the unveiled Batsuit was kept. 

"One thing's for sure, I know Selina is not gonna be too happy when she hears that her suits and gadgets are gone," he commented as he approached the suit. "But, you know what, Alfred? I'm feeling lucky tonight."

He reached down and uncovered the suit from covering, revealing the prototype.

---

The young man stood in the cave, looking around at the wreckage. His black cape was draped around him as he surveyed the wreckage. He was wearing a red armoured vest, green tights, and knee armour. A Utility Belt was buckled around his middle, and he wore flexible black boots. A small stylized “R” decorated his chest plate, and an eye mask covered his features.

"So this is why he hasn’t answered the signal," he said. 

He felt dread creeping through him. There had been no sign of Bruce, Selina or Alfred upstairs. But certainly, there would have been a news report if someone as prominent as Bruce Wayne had been killed. It didn’t make any sense.

Then he noticed the platform for the Batmobile was gone entirely. He walked over to it and looked down. No, not gone. Lowered. And he heard voices from below, echoing up to him.

He unsnapped a grappling hook and length of cable from his Utility Belt, anchored it firmly, and then jumped down into the darkness.

---

Batman emerged from the shadows, his armour bulkier, his cowl more fearsome-looking. The Bat symbol now ran the width of his chest. Alfred stared at him with distress. He certainly looked more intimidating. Now if the blasted armour didn’t kill him in the process...

"What do you suggest, Alfred? By sea," asked Batman, pointing some kind of remote control to the Batboat anchored in front of him. "...or by air?" Pointing it upwards to where a newly improved Batwing was stationed, its engines roaring.

"Why not both?" replied a youthful voice above.

Batman turned and saw Dick Grayson drop down a few feet away, clad in red and green armour. The two costumed individuals studied each other. Alfred felt somewhat underdressed.

"Who's your tailor?" Batman inquired curiously to the boy.

"I took the liberty, sir," replied the butler.

Batman nodded slightly, although it was difficult to tell in the mask. He gazed down on the "R" shaped patch he'd attached to the side of his chest plate. 

"R? What's that stand for?" the Dark Knight queried.

Dick looked over his shoulder at Alfred, who smiled slightly at the young man.

"Robin," Dick explained with confidence before facing Batman. "Riddler and Two-Face look like a pretty lethal combination. I figured you could use a hand."

"Two against two are better odds," acknowledged Batman.

"I can't promise I won't kill Harvey," said Dick, looking back at Batman.

"A man's got to go his own way," replied Batman cryptically, remembering those words last night before the raid. "A friend taught me that."

"Not just a friend," remarked Dick, extending his hand out. 

"A partner," corrected Batman, shaking Dick's hand firmly.

Dick stared resolutely into Bruce’s eyes. It was the hardest thing Dick had ever done because he knew, deep down, that he was still plagued with doubts. He had said what he had to say to get Bruce to accept him. But there was still the rage burning within him, the rage that blazed more brightly every time he envisioned Two-Face’s leering visage. The rage he was not altogether sure he could control. In order to function as Robin, had Dick’s first official act as Bruce’s partner been to lie? Had he become two-faced himself?

Who knew for certain? Perhaps Bruce was aware of his qualms but was positive that Dick would do the right thing.

Now if only Dick could figure out what that was...

---

Batman steered the controls of the Batwing into an alcove above the upper parts of the cave. This version of the craft was more compact and faster than the one he had used some years ago in his final confrontation against the Joker when he removed the parade balloons that were filled with Smylex gas to dose the Gothamites with after promising them free money during a parade he organized for the city's 200th birthday.

The distant memory was that long ago now. A different world when it was just him and Alfred. 

He piloted the craft up towards the opening above the cave mouth until it hit the surface of a clear night sky. Then he flew it over Wayne Manor, passing by a full moon that shone down on the manor. 

Below the mansion was a cliff overlooking the ocean that had a very noticeable sewer system running below the surface. 
The Batboat, with Robin behind the controls, guided it full speed through the tunnel and leapt out of the system. He let out a cheering whoop from the thrill of the drop before it landed on the surface of Gotham Harbour with a mighty splash as he steered the craft towards the horizon.

---

The walk up to the rooftop of police headquarters had been the longest Gordon had ever made. An hour had passed since the Riddler had tampered with the signal, and yet there was no sign of Batman and Catwoman anywhere. 

Gordon stood on the edge of the roof next to Bullock. He scanned the skyline but nothing new caught his attention.

"They're not coming," Gordon said flatly. "Shut it down."

Bullock sighed heavily, looking defeated as he made his way to the back of the signal to turn it off.

Gordon looked down at the ground and wondered how much time had passed since the signal had come on, wondering if his worst fears were true. If anything had happened to Batman...

Suddenly, he heard a sound that came from the sky, high above the rooftops of Gotham. He looked up, scanning the blackness of the night sky for any movement. The roaring sound above sounded like an aircraft of some kind, but Gordon couldn't be sure from here. He then had a hunch, a feeling in his gut. A feeling that the sound from above could be the unmistakable roar of a plane. 

Could it be? Is it him?

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Gordon called to Bullock, holding his hand out to stop him from switching the signal off.

The sound grew louder until it filled the air around them. It was impossible, but nevertheless, it was happening. The great black shape, getting closer and closer that Gordon couldn't help but smile broadly, and then all of a sudden the Batwing burst through the Batsignal. The gigantic green question mark symbol flickered twice before flatting out, restoring the signal back to its original state. 

A triumphant Gordon raised his fists into the air, cheering on and saluting the Batwing, with Batman at the controls, arced up and in the direction of Gotham Harbor. 

"Go! Go!" shouted Gordon, raising his fists again, pumping them into the air. The Batwing banked sharply and soared towards the coast, disappearing into the darkness of the night sky.

And in the waters of the harbour itself, Robin steered the Batboat across the still waters. His mind raced with infinite possibilities, infinite plans. And none of them included losing.

He cut back the engine noise, running silent and almost invisible in the darkness.

Claw Island loomed before him.

Atop the island, searchlights popped on one by one, flooding the water with light.

---

Within the depths of the control room, the Ridder and Two-Face strolled in unison towards what appears to be an electronic, high-tech version of Battleship. They took their seats on the two opposite sides of the large circular board with identical grins on both faces. The board flickered into life and projected an outline map of the island and the harbour. It showed two, blinking red dots heading right in their direction, no doubt that a certain Caped Crusader and his new partner were making their way here.

The Riddler placed the miniature model of the Batwing on the board.

"A-14," he called out confidently.

---

Robin took the Batboat through the harbour at top speed, not even slowing when they got within sight of the island. Then, an explosion erupted about two yards from his right with water spouted high in the sky. He swerved the boat away from the blast radius and turned around on his axis before taking off again. 

Batman looked down below the Batwing to see what was attacking the Boy Wonder. His eyes scanned the scene, and Robin found himself in the middle of a minefield without any cover.

---

"Miss!" Two-Face shouted over. 

"Sweet!" responded the Riddler with glee.

"B-12," Two-Face spoke again, placing his game piece on the board.

---

Another mine exploded near Robin's boat in front of him, blowing up more water than necessary. Robin managed to steer clear of it but kept it moving forward as fast as possible so as not to lose his speed.

---

"Miss!" declared the Riddler, a red light above the board flashing to indicate a loss. "And my favourite vitamin, I might add!"

Two-Face gave a smug look to his counterpart while he pressed another button on the board to charge up another mine.

The Riddler ooohed before chuckling in delight.

---

Batman steered the controls of the Batwing faster to the top of the island. He then sped upwards to a point directly over the Box, swerving upwards to avoid a stream of neural energy before turning sharply to port.

---

"That sinking feeling," Two-Face chuckled.

"I like this game!" exclaimed the Riddler.

"C-9!" Two-Face announced triumphantly.

---

Another mine underwater erupted and was more powerful than all the rest, and this time, it struck the Batboat square amidships. The explosion rocked the ship violently, nearly throwing Robin out of his seat. The console in front of him flashed red brightly, indicating a warning to eject. Robin did not waste another second before he reached for the release lever and pulled it downwards. The seat launched itself upwards with him still gripping onto it. The Batboat caught another mine in its path, causing it to explode.

---

"Ah!" dried out the Riddler, getting to his feet quickly from his chair to examine the console. "You sunk my battleship!"

"Who, me?" Two-Face mocked, his grin showing his glee over.

The Riddler laughed out loud and threw his hands out.

---

Batman heard an explosion below the Batwing and looked down to see the burning wreckage of the Batboat. He scanned the sea with dread rising inside his gut, wondering where Robin had gone, but the water below was too dark to see much beyond that point. Batman shook his head in disappointment and moved his attention back to the task at hand.

---

Beneath the waters of Gotham City, Robin shoved a re-breather in his mouth and started to swim toward Claw Island. He had about three seconds to think that things were going to get better, at which point a stream of armed frogmen started converging on him from all sides. He twisted frantically out of the way as a spear shot past him, leaving a tiny trail of bubbles behind it.

Robin figured that maybe he had one or two more good dodges in him before he got shish-kebabbed.

---

Batman looked down at the radar screen and saw that there were various green dots on it, indicating the frogmen below the sea. A small purple icon indicated Robin's position; Batman assumed that this meant he was still alive and was about to be outnumbered and overwhelmed by the army of frogmen.

---

"This is your captain speaking," the Riddler spoke into his closed hand like he was talking into an invisible mic. "Please return to your seats. We will be experiencing turbulence."

He pressed a big red button labelled 'BONUS' on the console.

---

Various laser beams from the top of the Riddler’s stronghold, blasting the Batwing outward, neatly severing one of the plane’s wings.

---

"AAAHH!!" the Riddler screamed out of joy, his hands flying up and pointing dramatically to the screen before him, which displayed the now disabled aircraft plummeting downward. "I got him!"

---

The Batwing was rapidly losing altitude. Batman could see flames engulfing one wing, sending smoke billowing into the air. There was nothing he can do to regain control, the plane spiralled downward, crashing into the water and sinking without a trace.

---

"I hope they can find the little black box," said the Riddler, laughing.

---

And that was when the frogmen caught up with Robin. They dragged him under, the water swallowing him, and he struggled furiously, lashing out with his hands, kicking desperately. But it was like moving in molasses, and the frogmen were far better equipped to manoeuvre in the water than Robin was.

Robin twisted, ripped the mask off one of the frogmen and yanked the breathing tube out of another’s mouth. But more converged on him, grabbing his arms and legs, and now, more were approaching with knives. And as if cutting him to pieces was going to be an insufficient penalty, one of them managed to get his hand on Robin’s face and yank off his re-breather.

Suddenly one of the frogmen gestured frantically, and they all turned to see what he was indicating.

It was impossible to miss.

Speeding toward them through the water were the remains of the Batwing. Except that incredibly, even miraculously, it had transformed into something else. The other wing had telescoped inward, and sleek fins had slid into place. The Batsub, for want of a better name, approached at top speed to aid the beleaguered teen.

The frogmen hesitated, the next move belonging to the sub.

With a roar and rush of water, a black torpedo streaked toward them and shot out of the Batsub.

A torpedo with arms.

That’s what one of the frogmen adjudged it to be as a capeless Batman shot past him, snagged the struggling Robin with one hand, and with the other released a large net. The guided net ensnared the frogmen. They tried to slice it open with their knives but didn’t even come close to cutting through it.

Batman and Robin shot straight toward the surface. When they broke the water, Robin gasped for air, sucking in great lungfuls of it. Batman, meantime, hooked the net cable onto a nearby buoy to keep the net from drifting.

---

"Now, the real game begins..." the Riddler smirked before clasping his hands together in sinister anticipation.

---

Moments later Robin had clambered up to the rocky shore of Claw Island. Batman came up several yards behind, refastening his cape to his armoured shoulder plates. As he did so, he saw Robin examining the ground.

"What are you looking for?" asked Batman, trying to sound unimpressed instead of concerned.

Robin took a few steps forward, kneeling.

"It's the ground," he explained. "And it's all rusty metal and full of holes." 

"This place was a refuelling station for submarines during the Second World War," informed Batman.

Just as Batman was about to get a close look, he heard a grinding of motors and a horrible crunching noise. He looked upward as Robin started to rise into the air.

"The whole island's moving!" exclaimed Robin, looking around with alarm.

Batman turned his eyes upwards, seeing that indeed the island was moving. The ground rumbled underneath him threateningly, and the rocks in front of him began to shift, rising slightly up towards the sky with Robin hovering right above. Batman whipped out a grappling gun and fired it at the base of a rock, using it to pull himself up, but the hook failed to latch onto the rock as it rose above him. 

The cylinder in Nygma’s illustration of Claw Island now made terrifying sense. The island was situated atop a tremendous cylindrical oil tank, rising quickly out of the water. Batman was left behind on a necklace of jutting rocks as Robin, with the rest of Claw Island, ascended higher and faster. It was already higher than his wirepoon gun could shoot a grappling hook. Looking around desperately for some means of access, he spotted a rusted panel on the giant metal structure. He moved quickly to it, ripped it free, and climbed inside.

---

Robin looked down at the water surging far below him. He knew he needed to stay calm, but panic gripped his chest like vices. He forced it back and focused on the tasks ahead of him.  He would have to get his bearings first and then try to find a way into the building.

"Looking for us?" called a deep voice from behind him.

He spun and looked straight at Two-Face standing on a rock not a foot away from him, holding a gun. Robin held his breath for a moment, afraid to let loose the air trapped in his lungs.

This was it. This was the moment it had been building up for weeks. Robin knew he couldn't lose now. Not after everything he went through to get here. He felt anger surge through him. His muscles tensed up. He had come too far to quit now that he was up close with the man that took away his family from him.

Now or never. 

Two-Face jumped down from the rock and landed right in front of Robin. He drew his gun at him, but before he had the chance to get a clear shot, the Boy Wonder kicked it out of his hand. He followed up by launching a kick straight into his stomach, knocking him onto the floor. 

"That was for my mother!" yelled Robin, landing a roundhouse kick right onto the villain's nose. With one last hard hit, Two-Face stumbled over his feet.

"For my father!" Robin added, delivering a blow with his fists to the villain's chin, sending him sprawling across the floor. He then kicked him squarely in the face, making sure to leave some bruises.

"For Chris!" he added, finishing the fight with a vicious knee to the throat.

Robin stood over Two-Face with the cold fury of a thousand suns blazing in his eyes. He stared down at his adversary with an unreadable expression. It took the villain a while to catch his breath, staring up at Robin from beneath bloodied, broken, bloodshot eyes.

"And this is for me!" yelled Robin, ramming his head down onto Two Face's, sending him rolling down the slope. 

His fingers found dirt and stone, but no other grip. At the last second, Two-Face grabbed a jagged outcropping of rock on the island’s edge, hanging on for dear life, feet kicking wildly over the abyss.

To Robin’s confusion, Two-Face was grinning.

"Finally, justice is served!" he crowed. "Let us die!"

The rock he was clutching began to slide.

Robin could almost hear the snap as Two-Face hung onto the edge of the rock, his fingertips turning white.

"You're a man after our own heart, son!" whispered the criminal with one final chuckle. "I'll see you in hell!"

Robin continued to stare down at him incredulously, whether he should let him go, or not. 

He stared into the visage of Two-Face and saw himself. And more than all of Bruce and Selina’s words, more than all of his own twisted emotions, that face laid out for him the conflict within him. Remembering their words of warning about how killing out of revenge changes a person etching firmly into his mind, how it would take him into a dark, endless path of despair and loneliness like Bruce and Selina themselves had to endure. He saw the part of him that wanted the death of Harvey Dent. It looked up at him with an unblinking, glaring eye from a scarred and distorted soul.

Robin took one more deep breath and crouched down to grab Two-Face's hand.

"No," Robin shook his head. "I'd rather see you in jail!" 

And with that, he hauled Two-Face to safety.

"Good boy," Two-Face breathed. "Good boy. The Bat and the Cat has taught you very well. Noble, but you didn't have the guts to do the right thing." 

He brought out another gun from his pocket, but unfortunately for Two-Face, Robin saw it coming from the corner of his eye. Before the gun even made it halfway to Robin's head, he pushed Two-Face's hand aside to ram his fist straight into the temple. The villains' heads snapped backwards and his limp body dropped to the ground.

Robin gazed down at him for a moment longer, breathing heavily. As though he remembered something, he turned around to go the opposite way to move forwards over to the Riddler's lair.

---

The interior of the cylinder was a world of spinning, glowing question marks.

A series of steel gratings at intervals of roughly a hundred feet rose the height of the cylinder. Each grating was flush against the walls, and Batman had been using them to make his way up. He would fire his wirepoon, hook onto a grating, clip it to the winch on his belt, and hoist himself up. Each grating had a trapdoor that he would ease through. Then he would repeat the process.

Far below him, the surf crashed against the rocks.

There seemed to be only one more grating between himself and the top. Unfortunately, Batman could see from where he was standing that there was no trapdoor on that final one, for whatever reason. He tried to ignore the array of moving question marks as he planned his strategy. He’d have to haul himself up, and then dangle there as he sliced through it with a laser torch.

Was the grating closer?

Then he heard the grinding of motors. Sure enough, the upper grating was moving toward him. And it was doing so very quickly.

He knelt to pull open the trapdoor in the grating on which he was standing. It didn’t budge. It had been sealed behind him electronically.

He looked up again, and the grating was moving so fast that he quickly realized he was not going to have time to cut through with the laser torch.

It left him exactly one option. He thumbed a button on his Utility Belt, painfully aware that the last time he’d tested the device, he’d almost set himself on fire.

His costume vibrated, building up in intensity, and seconds later his boots flared. The thrusters hurled him upward toward the descending grate. He crisscrossed his arms over his head, becoming what Robin would undoubtedly have termed a “Bat”-tering ram.

The descending grating and ascending Batman collided, Batman smashing through it. The metal wrenched free of the cylinder sides, clattering downward.

And the thrusters sputtered and cut out.

Batman reached out desperately and snagged an old access ladder set into the cylinder wall. He hung there for a moment, listening to the grating crash downward. Then he hoisted himself upward, shoving his way through a rusting access hatch to the surface of the Riddler's main control room. 

Batman looked around the massive, dome-like room and it was as high-tech as it gets. 

There was equipment everywhere, but nothing like the advanced robotics he’d seen in other rooms in Riddler’s lair. This room was completely automated, and up above the see-through perspex platform stood an electronic throne. Just then, Robin entered the room and caught sight of the Dark Knight. 

"Batman!" he called, running up to him. 

"I see you made it in one piece,"  Batman said dryly. His mask hid his expression—but Robin saw the faint smile playing across his lips.

"Yeah, had a little run-in with Harvey along with way," Robin replied lightly. 

"Did you...?" 

Robin shook his head, "No, I let him live."

"Good thinking," Batman nodded approvingly.

"The remaining question is, the Riddler has yet to show his face." 

"I think he's right over here," Batman nodded over at the throne.

Robin followed his gaze and saw the throne was rotating slowly around a central column. In its center, sat the Riddler himself. Appearance-wise, he looked substantially different from when Batman had last seen him. Firstly, something that the trio had noticed that was sticking out like a sore thumb, was that he was now sporting a very bizarre hairstyle that was shaped and styled to resemble horns. Secondly, his outfit screamed eccentric. The costume itself was rather strange. The leotard was all silvery-white and was covered in sparkling diamonds all over it and it had sparkling green question marks embroidered on every section. Even his eye mask was decorated with sparkles. The right was silver and with other was in a green that was question mark shaped with a dot at the bottom.

He looked down at the Dynamic Duo and grinned brightly at them, though it was not a pleasant grin.

"Riddle me this, riddle me that," crooned the Riddler. "Who's afraid of the big, black bat?" 

"No more tricks, Edward," said Batman. 

"Very well, then," the Riddler conceded, picking up a highly advanced cane that had a skull at the handle. He twirled it with one hand dramatically. "Let's get real."

"Release Selina and Chase," Batman demanded. "This is between you and us," gesturing to Robin. 

Two-Face stepped from behind the Riddler’s throne. "And me..." and he added, "and me."

Robin frowned at seeing his family's killer and could see from the distance that Harvey received a cut over his temple from the Boy Wonder's Fist. The Riddler laughed mockingly.

Batman looked up at the pulsing antenna above, no doubt the source of the Box that contains neural energy, "You've been sucking Gotham's brain waves and now you've devised a way to read man's minds." 

"Ha ha ha! You betcha!" the Riddler responded merrily before getting serious. "Soon my little Box will be on countless TVs around the world, feeding me credit card numbers, bank codes, sexual fantasies and little white lies. Into my head they'll go, victory is inevitable. For if knowledge is power," he swung his cane with his left hand to slide it over his shoulders over his right arm to catch it. "Then a god.. am... I...!" His voice echoed throughout the room.

Batman and Robin stood staring, their fists balled as they were getting around to what he had planned. The thought of transporting all the neural waves from every human being on the planet and into the mind of some deranged lunatic to give him more and more intellect made both men's stomachs roll uncomfortably. Plus, the very idea of the whole world, not just Gotham, being under Edward's watchful eye through mind-reading technology with their privacy ripped away was both terrifying and utterly disgusting to contemplate. 

They waited until the reverberations stopped. 

The Riddler stared at each in turn before saying, "Was that over the top? I can never tell." 

He threw his head back to let out a loud cackle that echoed throughout the room and the pair exchanged looks again. 

"By the way, I've seen your mind, freak!" the Riddler thundered the last word. "Yours is the greatest riddle of all. Can Bruce Wayne and Batman ever truly coexist?" 

The Ridder was just taunting them at this point, but neither Batman nor Robin wanted to take any chances. There was another long moment of silence, while Batman and Robin glared daggers at the criminal mastermind. He turned to Two-Face, who stood next to his throne during the whole exchange.

"We'll find out today! But first," the Riddler held his cane up to his mouth and spoke into it like it was a microphone and began acting like some sort of host in a game show, "Let's meet our contestants." 

He swang his cane around in a circle. Sugar appeared on the edge of the room underneath the platform.

"Behind curtain... number... one!" announced the Riddler, pointing toward a curtain-draped cylinder suspended overhead. 

Sugar tugged the rope and the curtain dropped to reveal Chase within the tube, bound and gagged inside. 

Batman and Robin tensed, their eyes fixed on the tied doctor, who struggled futilely to break her bonds.

"They captured her too?" whispered Robin incredulously.

Batman said nothing, his mind racing as he attempted to formulate a plan on how to free Chase. 

"The absolutely fabulous Dr. Chase Meridian," the Riddler crowed, "She enjoys hiking, getting her nails done and foolishly hopes to be the love of Bruce's life." 

He laughed again, enjoying himself immensely and so did Two-Face, who also seemed amused by the proceedings. 

Spice appeared on the other side of the room. She gestured toward another cylinder. 

"And behind curtain number two!" the Riddler called out, motioning toward the cylinder.

Neither Batman nor Robin was surprised to see who would be behind the second curtain before it was even dropped. Inside contained Selina in similar peril. She was also trying to free herself while glaring hatefully at the Riddler. 

"Fatman's one and only equal, Miss Selina Kyle," declared the Riddler, adding an insult to Batman. "This lowly assistant turned mentally deranged cat lady likes to dress herself up and pretend she's some sort of sexy goddess. And dreams of one day being a gold-digging harpy in a high-class nightclub. Oh yes! That's her!"

Selina's jaw clenched and yanked harder against her restraints, straining against them with everything she had. She could tell that Edward was having a ball at her expense. 

The Riddler twirled his cane about in a circle once more and then addressed Batman and Robin. 

"And below these contestants, my personal favourite," he paused dramatically, pointing below Selina and Chase's cylinders. "A watery grave!" 

Trap doors slid open beneath them to reveal the interior of the shaft and a spike pit and a crushed grate below the ground. Batman looked apprehensively down and felt his chest tighten, with Robin doing the same beside him.

"Just one, little touch," the Riddler intoned ominously, pointing to a button that was on the skull of his cane. "And five seconds later, these two day-players are gull feed on the rocks below! Not enough time to save them both."

His face grew solemn once more, but there was still a playful glint of excitement and mischief in his eyes. Two-Face, on the other hand, wore an evil smirk that made Robin just wanna hit something hard. Sugar and Spice were smirking with malicious intent. 

"Which one will it be, Batman?" the Riddler asked mockingly. "Bruce's love? Or the Dark Knight's ravishing feline?" 

He began mimicking a ticking clock, waving his cane back and forth in front of him as he went along. 

"You're a monster," seethed Robin.

"No," he replied with shrug. "Just the Riddler, and here’s yours."

Batman's mind was racing to figure out a way out of this sick game that Edward had put the women in. The fact that he was using his duality against him to force him to choose either Selina or Chase was infuriating. Batman glanced sharply at both women and then back to the Riddler. 

Robin saw the indecision written plain as day on Batman’s face. 

"This isn't exactly a fair game," remarked Robin, hoping to ease tensions.

"It's not," agreed Batman, looking up at Selina and Chase's cylinders with a frown. "It's one life against another, and he wants me to throw me off the balance of my double life by playing along to his sick game."

Robin could only nod in response. Realizing it was now going further beyond gaining retribution against Two-Face. Batman was trying to come up with a solution that could save both Selina and Chase from being dropped to their deaths. 

"You better hurry, Brucie," commented the Riddler, with that wicked grin still plastered on his face. "Time is growing short."

"There is no way for me to save them or myself," admitted Batman, thinking furiously. "This is all one giant death trap." 

"Judges? Bzzzzzt!" chimed the Riddler, imitating a buzzer sound. "I'm sorry, your answer must be in the form of a question. But thank you for playing."

His finger went toward the skull button.

"Wait!" 

The Riddler paused his actions for a second to give Batman a questioning glance.

"I have a riddle for you," replied Batman confidently.

Everyone in the room, including the captive women, was now listening intently. It was clear that Batman was trying desperately to think up a way to rescue them all before it was too late.
 
The Riddler though seemed enchanted with the notion. 

"For me?" he queried with a smile. "Really?" 

His face brightened instantly at the prospect of hearing an equal riddle from Batman as he was intrigued by the possibility of the Bat beating his own riddle in. If he could try that is. If anyone would be victorious in this little game of intellectual tit-for-tat that they were playing, it'd be Edward. 

He chuckled darkly to himself at the thought, spinning his cane again and grinning mischievously before speaking once more.

"Tell me," he stated casually before taking a seat on his throne.

Batman nodded to Robin, signalling the boy to begin.

"I see without seeing," Batman started, his hand reaching his utility belt without either Riddler or Two-Face noticing. "To me, darkness is as clear as daylight." He flicked his wrist to draw out a folded, highly advanced Batarang in his hand with Robin quickly following suit. "What am I?"

The Riddler snorted derisively and crossed his arms, leaning back on his throne. This was an easy answer and not worth bothering with. What was the annoying, overgrown bat trying to pull here? 

"Please!" scoffed the Riddler. "You're as blind as a bat!"

"Exactly!"

Batman released a Batarang with a high-energy charge and slammed his Utility Belt. In that instant, two metal lids slid shut over Batman’s eyes. He and Robin hurled their Batarangs together through the air straight at the antenna.

The Riddler barely had time to react, his grin instantly replaced with a look of horror before he realized what the duo were aiming for. Sugar screamed in alarm as the Batarangs smashed into the antenna and a massive charge of electrons fed into the transceiver, overloading them.

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!" the Riddler screamed out, as he was bombarded with massive pulses of neural energy. 

Two-Face scrambled out of sight as if he were attempting to escape an impending explosion as Sugar and Spice fled away in terror from the chaos. 

The control room erupted with showers of sparks, lights flickering rapidly throughout the entire room. A large, ribble-like effect suddenly appeared on the floor around Batman and Robin. The noise and flashes were deafening as the power cables in the control room burst into flames, causing a powerful shock wave that knocked the heroes off their feet. 

Outside, the Box was exploding from the inside, sending chunks of metal and debris flying across the island before it was engulfed by a blazing inferno. 

The Riddler wailed in agony and clutched his head with his hands. He was bombarded with massive pulses of neural energy he gained from the Gothamites. His entire head started to distort, fluctuate in size, and waver. His brain seemed to grow, skin stretching for a second over his expanding skull before snapping back into place. It didn’t, of course, since the result would have been massive cerebral haemorrhaging and instant death. But that was what it felt like to the Riddler, and thought became holographic representation. He staggered, searching for something intelligent to say...

...and nothing came to mind.

"Bummer!" was all he could get out, and then the room went black.

The Riddler collapsed, slumping against the button...

And Selina and Chase fell through their cylinders, the drop yawning before them.

But the tubes hadn’t opened simultaneously. They’d opened sequentially: Selina’s first, then Chase’s. No more than a second between the two, but it might be all Batman needed.

In that instant, both Batman and Robin leapt down after them, their grappling hooks at the ready as they soared towards the falling women. Robin leapt after Chase, catching her around her middle as he fired his grappling gun at one of the steel beams supporting the tube structure. With the Boy Wonder holding onto Chase, Batman dove straight for Selina; his cape billowing behind him in the wind generated by his rapid descent. Selina still had her arms tied behind her back and she instinctively swung her legs to get her arms in front of her thanks to years of gymnastics training.

She reached her arms out to Batman, who just fired his grappling gun once more at the beam. She was drawing dangerously close to the spike pit below them. The speed at which she was descending was getting faster and faster,  and soon they were going to crash…

And finally, with enough momentum, he managed to grab hold of one of her hands with his own. Their fall was beginning to slow considerably, and they could see the pit approaching, about twenty yards away now. They came to a smooth halt just about inches from the spikes. Both were panting heavily, gasping for breath as Selina stared at her boyfriend with gratitude and relief written clear as day on her face.

"Thanks," Selina said quietly, almost whispering. "Holy shit...!"

Batman smiled faintly and pulled her up to safety. It took them about 5 minutes to get up to the support girder where Robin and Chase were waiting. As soon as Batman untied the ropes from Selina, she kissed him out of sheer gratitude and joy. She pulled back a little from the kiss to look at his face.

"What took you so long?" she asked jokingly.

"I've been busy," he answered cryptically.

"Oh yeah? Busy solving puzzles and saving the world?" responded Selina teasingly.

A sly smirk appeared on the Bat's face. 

Selina grinned back before kissing him again, unable to wait any longer.

"I think you deserve a reward when we go home," whispered Selina suggestively. "By the way, love the new suit. Guess the prototype was successful after all."

Batman smirked at her comment before going over to Chase to remove the bindings from her with Robin and Selina helping her along by each arm. Once done, the blonde psychologist went over to him and kissed him similar to what Selina gave him. Robin gave a surprising look at this development, not fully expecting to see Batman show so much affection to another woman when he was already in a relationship with Selina. The Dark Knight gave him a look that read; 'I'll explain later.' The Boy Wonder had decided to drop it, for now, deciding that it was best not to press the matter. 

Before any of them made any plan on how to wrap the incident up, they all heard a maniacal laugh behind them. They all turned around to see Two-Face standing on the beam above them, pointing his gun at them threateningly. They had forgotten all about him up until this point. And how he managed to get down here from the control room above them was beyond them all. 

"All those heroics for nothing," sneered Two-Face. "No more riddles, no more curtains one and two. Just plain curtains!"

He laughed once more before raising his gun at them once more. 

"Aren't you forgetting something, Harvey?" inquired Batman calmly. "Your coin."

Two-Face stopped smiling immediately and gave him an incredulous look before looking down at the coin in the palm of his hand. He looked at it for a few seconds, not quite sure where this was all going. 

"You're always of two minds about everything," the Dark Knight continued and took something shiny and silver out of his belt. 

There was some conflict within Two-Face the longer he stared into the coin, listening to Batman's words slowly sink in. For the longest time, even before becoming Two-Face, this coin had caused him great pain and frustration, the only thing keeping him sane during a very difficult time in his life with this multiple personality disorder that affected him greatly. The one shiny side represented his true self while the other scratched side represented his nasty side, a second personality that only acted when provoked or angered.  So, despite knowing he was crazy and dangerous since the acid attack in court that caused both personalities to be jumbled into one giant mess, the coin had never given him pause, for it represented an object that would be the judge of who would live or die. He had believed that the coin itself would make his decision for him. However, it wasn’t the coin that convinced him it was right, but rather the person holding it.

It was his Achilles' heel, just like Chase said. 

"Yes, of course. You're right, Bruce," Two-Face admitted slowly with a hint of sadness in his voice, almost like some traces of the old Harvey Dent were still there despite everything. "Emotions are always the enemy of true justice. Thank you. You've always been a good friend."

Then like the flip of a switch, his Big Bad Harv personality quickly took over, giving an evil smile as flipped his signature coin. 

Then, just as Two-Face flipped it in the air, Batman threw a set of identical coins at him in a flash at the same time, much to Robin, Selina and Chase's surprise. Two-Face was stunned as well, staring wide-eyed at the coins in confusion. He glanced from one to the other in bewilderment. He tried to catch one, eyes glancing wildly about to try and find the real one. What he failed to notice, however, was that he was standing on a steel support beam, swaying slightly from side to side when he just now had noticed that he was struggling to regain his balance. It took Two-Face several moments to realize the gravity of his situation. When he did, his footing slipped forward from under him and screamed at the top of his lungs in utter terror as he started plummeting downwards right to the bottom of the shaft where the spike pit was. 

Batman, Selina, Chase and more specifically Robin, all watched with horrified fascination as the man plummeted to the ground with a sickening crunch. 

Down the pit, the coin that Two-Face had been reaching toward, the one that symbolized his two personalities, had landed directly right onto the cold, unmoving palm of one Harvey Dent before the hand slid underwater beneath its surface.

Robin continued to look down at where his family's killer had fallen, unable to believe what he'd seen. He blinked once, twice, three times, trying to comprehend what he’d just witnessed. Throughout the whole thing up until this point, he had revenge in his mind, all his training, all the build-up leading to his confrontation with Harvey from the incident at the circus that took away his mother, father and brother, forcing him to deal with the cold, harsh reality of their deaths. 

But now, with Two-Face now gone, the hatred in his heart began to fade, turning into fear. Fear for himself, because if anything happened to Bruce and Selina, he didn’t know what he'd do. Seeing Harvey plummet to his death, he should've felt relief and maybe even a glint of happiness for a moment now that his family was avenged, but instead, all he felt was nothing. No joy, no sadness, not even anger. Just nothing. 

Bruce and Selina were right in one respect though: there is nothing to be gained from vengeance.

The murderer may be gone, but nothing will ever bring back the family that Dick Grayson had lost.

---

Above ground, Sugar and Spice, surrounded by a smoke-filled world of sparks and flame, held a quick confab.

"Girl, can you swim?" asked Sugar.

"And ruin this hair?" sniffed Spice. "Hell no!" As they headed for a secret exit, Spice flipped open her portable phone. "I know a guy with a yacht."

As they made their way for the exit, the two women were still unclear about everything that had happened. Batman’s salvation was that the Riddler and Two-Face, considering knowledge to be power, had told no one else of the connection between Batman and Bruce Wayne. Nygma had it in for his former employer, but so what? Selina Kyle and Chase Meridian were hot on Batman, but again, so what? Sugar and Spice themselves found him kind of hot.

Unfortunately, a proposed romance with Batman didn’t seem conducive to continued freedom, especially not after the way they treated Selina and Chase during their capture before Batman and Robin stormed the island. 

As both Sugar and Spice were about to escape from the island and Gotham entirely, they heard a voice that neither woman wanted to hear.

"Going somewhere, ladies?" purred out a dry, sultry tone. 

Sugar turned to the source, and just in time for Selina to ram her fist across her jaw while Spice received an elbow to the face from Chase that sent her flying onto the floor in a heap. Selina grabbed Sugar's wrist and roughly twisted her arm behind her back making her cry out in pain while Chase halted a dazed Spice by stepping on her hand with her heeled boot, preventing the gothic woman from any means of escape. 

"Not so dominant now, are you?" Chase taunted before ramming her heel to the back of Spice's head, effectively knocking her out cold. 

The blonde psychologist shared a matching grin with Selina, and they both felt good to give those tramps some retribution after the humiliation they subjected earlier. Sugar squirmed uncomfortably at how her arm was locked behind her back glancing barely at the two blonde women above her.

"So, what do we do with them, Chase?" inquired Selina casually. 

"I dunno," shrugged Chase, "I don't think we should put them in jail, especially with them knowing who Bruce is. We can't risk them revealing the information. Maybe we should have a discussion with him about what to do with them."

Selina nodded in agreement, before asking the next question, "Where is he now?"

"I believe he's up above the control room taking care of some business with Edward," replied Chase as she picked up the unconscious Spice while Selina was pulling Sugar to her feet harshly, eliciting another whimper from her.

---

Above what's left of the wreaked control room, the place was engulfed in darkness, save for the flickering lights when Batman approached the electronic throne that was tilted over at an angle during the destruction of the antenna with wires strewn all over the glass floor. His eyes scanned the area until they landed upon the whimpering form of the Riddler, or what's left of him. His flashy outfit was torn, his glittery eye mask melted, and his scalp was blistered and burned. Pathetic, whimpering and mad, he stared at the pieces of his machinery as they crumbled in his hand. 

"Why...?" whispered Edward through cracked lips. His voice was small, lost. "Why can't I kill you...?" he let out a pained wail at the last word. 

Batman looked down at the remains of the once arrogant and eccentric scientist who had so much pride and ambition, only to reduce himself into nothing more than a pathetic husk of a man all because he let his work and pride get the better of him. The pride of thinking he had the upper hand in outsmarting Batman and the plans of reading the minds of every human being on earth were to be his downfall. 

So much potential wasted...

"Too many questions," Edward mumbled to himself, but it was as if he was unaware that Batman was in the room. "Too many questions..."

"Poor Edward," spoke Batman in a low, sympathetic tone. "I had to save them both. You see, I'm both Bruce Wayne and Batman. Not because I have to be. Now, because I choose to be."

This was the feeling he had not felt before during his tenure as the Dark Knight. This...wasn't anger or sadness. It was something new, a sensation that came from deep within his chest and settled around him like a mantle. The clashing duality of light and dark was something he hadn't felt since he donned the suit, the two lives he led together now separated by the divide created by his alter ego and Bruce Wayne. It took a moment for him to realize that this wasn't a physical separation, but rather a mental one; the difference between him being two people who existed in the same body and actually being two separate beings was becoming clear. He didn't understand it yet, but the idea gave him the beginnings of hope. For the first time in his life, there was a balance. He could feel it in the depths of his soul. A mixture of both lives was now residing there, and the two souls now resided in the same body. He felt inner peace wash over him, a sense of calmness and serenity filling his body with an indescribable warmth . There was no reason for him to dwell on it now. There were important matters to address, and he needed to take care of those first.

Edward looked up at Batman, his eyes were red and irritated. He suddenly shrieked in terror when the Dark Knight reached for him. From what he could see, he didn't see the silhouette of the figure looming above him. It was the ravenous face of a hideous, demonic giant bat descending ominously towards him as Edward's screams fade away in the background before everything became silent. 

A/N: And we're nearly done, ladies and gentlemen! This has probably got to be the quickest and shortest chapter I've written as far as finales go, and I hope you faithful readers loved the different outcome of Selina being in that cylinder of the Riddler's death game instead of Robin being in there. Now it's only the epilogue that's left to wrap it up, but I wanna discuss what me and neostardustdragon101 have planned for the future of this rewrite series afterwards. And I know you folks think it's gonna be the rewrite of Batman and Robin, but we'll get into it after the epilogue so stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of the rewrite of Batman Forever! Peace!