Fic: Splintered, Part Eight
Part Eight: Plan Zee
Thanks to Djinn for the beta.
Part 7.2
"Tropsnart su ot etius," Zatanna said. Bruce heard a loud popping sound and felt like he'd been spun around on a carnival ride. They all instantly appeared in his suite.
Diana glanced over at the flute in his hand. "I see you were successful. Did she try to seduce you?" She was trying to sound casual, but Bruce noticed she was having difficulty meeting his gaze as she asked.
That's kind of sweet. "Let's say she wasn't completely disinterested." He quickly changed the subject when he saw Diana's eyebrows shoot up. "What happened with the lions?"
"They were curled up in the sun, just like the big cats they are," Zatanna said, sighing. "I think they'd just been fed; they were too lazy to move. We appeared in what must have been their litter box, though." She grimaced.
"Sounds like Circe," Bruce said. "One down, one to go."
Diana seemed to be smothering her jealousy. "Do you think Circe and Catwoman are still working together?" she asked.
Bruce shook his head. "Not from the way Circe referred to her. It sounded like she only employed Catwoman to help her steal the flute. The Tears of Aphrodite were Catwoman's payment - along with my identity."
Diana pursed her lips. "So Selina knows who you are. Great."
One more grudge she's got against Circe.
"At least we shouldn't have to worry about Circe controlling you through Catwoman." Zatanna did a double take. "Wait a minute - you said Selina?" She turned to Diana. "You know her?"
"We haven't met yet, but I'm certainly looking forward to it," Diana said grimly. "Now that she knows who Bruce is, he's vulnerable. What are you going to do to help protect him from that porne?"
Zatanna raised an eyebrow at the word, but wisely did not comment. "I will construct a magic shield, but I wouldn't rely on that completely. Something originating from a major goddess like Aphrodite has a good chance of overwhelming whatever I could create." She turned to Bruce. "If you want my advice, stay away from Selina unless you're in uniform. That face shield should come in handy."
* * *
Diana had been quiet a while as they flew back to Gotham. Bruce presumed she was staring out the window at the landscape below, or else lost in thought.
Finally, she spoke. "You're probably safe at work, and you're definitely safe as Batman. But I don't suppose you could cancel all your social engagements from now until August 30."
"I can get out of some of them, but not all. Bruce Wayne is supposed to be a playboy, not a recluse."
"It's still strange to hear you talk about yourself in the third person like that." She rested her hand on his arm. "Who are you really, when you take off the cowl?"
"Until recently, I would have said I was Batman, with or without the cowl. But when you asked me under the lasso - I couldn't believe it myself, what I said. But it must be true. So I guess the answer still is that I really don't know."
"You're like Theodorus."
"Who?"
"The actor. I saw him perform numerous times in tragedies and comedies. He always wore the appropriate mask for the type of play he was in - that's where those masks you people use to represent drama come from, you know."
"So you're saying that Batman and Bruce Wayne are both masks?"
She nodded. "One of tragedy, one of comedy. The real you is somewhere in between."
He thought of the mirror he'd shattered in Amsterdam, twenty years ago. Is there even a real me?
Diana covered his hand with hers, seeming to sense his discomfort. "So, when are we going to get the Tears back from Selina?"
"Tonight. I'll wait outside until she leaves, then break into her apartment and search it." Nice change of subject.
"Bruce, this doesn't just involve you. I'm coming too."
"Your uniform hardly protects you from exposure! What if she returns? The thought of you as Selina's love slave makes me want to - to..."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'd certainly like to see where this is going."
"Dammit, Diana, you know what I mean! Neither of us can afford to be in that position. If you're coming with me, you're wearing something more covering."
She held up both hands, as if in surrender. "And how exactly are you going to arrange for that?"
"For starters, put your hands down and take the stick. You'll find out."
Once she took over the controls, Bruce contacted Alfred and detailed his specifications. He hasn't failed me yet - though it'll be interesting to see what he comes up with on such short notice.
* * *
They hid in the shadows on a rooftop across from Selina's apartment building, Diana's form momentarily silhouetted against the night sky as they shifted their position.
Alfred really is a genius. Diana's midnight-black cowl had large, horned eyes, and her gauntlets sported talons - both nods to the owl-eyed goddess Athena. Not even a bit of her face is exposed.
Diana's lips moved noiselessly for the stealth communicator mode.
[Is she in there?] The words appeared glowing blue on the heads-up display of his cowl.
[Unclear. Informants saw her in vicinity. This time of night, she sometimes gets the munchies - goes back to her place - ]
[For milk and cookies?] The sarcasm seemed to just jump out of the text characters. [Tell me, does she eat out of your hand?]
[You're cute when you're jealous.]
[The mission, remember?]
[Touché, Princess.] A flicker of motion caught his attention. [Showtime.]
Selina came into view through what appeared to be her living room window. She was wearing a robe, but he thought he could see her boots peeking out underneath. She was eating something with a spoon.
A single woman…I bet it's yogurt.
Selina turned toward the window and looked out, an amused expression on her face.
[Think she can see us?] Diana asked.
[Possibly.]
[What do we do now?]
[We wait.]
[For what? An invitation?]
[For her to leave.]
[And what if she doesn't?]
[She will. She doesn’t really know that we're here. She's just paranoid.]
[You ought to know.]
They waited until they saw Selina on the roof, rappelling down the side of the building. Once Selina had disappeared into the night, Diana flew them to her balcony, and Bruce picked the lock and opened the window.
"We won't have time to look everywhere, so we need to look for the most likely places she could hide the vial." Bruce opened his hands. "You spent more time with the hologram; wouldn't you say the vial's about this big?"
"I think so. Any other pointers on how to search, without letting Selina know we were here? Unless you want her to know we were here?"
"Not yet."
* * *
Bruce checked the proximity sensor he'd set. After an hour, neither he nor Diana had found any trace of the Tears. He wasn't sure how much more time they would have before Selina returned.
Diana came in from Selina's bedroom. "Other than learning that she has exotic taste in underwear, I haven't found a thing. You're presuming she would keep the vial close at hand, no?"
"That's what most people would do."
"She must not be 'most people'. What now?"
He thought for a moment. "Let me check her bedroom. Maybe you missed something."
"It's possible; I'm new at this, after all. But I don't think she'd appreciate your snooping in her goodie drawer."
"Goodie drawer?"
"Sex and the City. Kara and Mari introduced me to it. It's where a woman keeps her erotic paraphernalia."
"Kara, huh?"
"And Mari."
"Yeah, her I see. Doubt the Kents let Kara watch it on the farm."
He entered Selina's bedroom and looked around. She didn't hide the vial anywhere obvious, so it must be somewhere… not obvious?
He winced. Brilliant, Bruce. Took you all day to think that one up, I'm sure.
He opened the bottom left dresser drawer and felt around behind it. There was quite a bit of residue from duct tape, and a couple of leftover strips remained. Judging from the pattern of the residue, the overall size of what had been attached resembled the alabaster flask.
"I think I've found where it was," he called to Diana. "But she's moved it, probably someplace off site. Maybe a safe-deposit box - she'd keep it there until right before she's ready to use it."
"Can you get into her safe-deposit box?"
"Maybe - eventually. But we don’t know where she banks, and even if we did, she might not have the box at the same location. Even if we could successfully break into every bank within five miles of here, we don't have time."
Diana stood in the hallway outside the bedroom. "Why not?"
"Because the opening-night party for the museum exhibition is in two days, remember? That's one engagement Bruce Wayne can't get out of. It's being held at the Manor." He left the bedroom, and Diana followed.
"Do you think Selina will show up?"
"She hasn't been invited, so it would be breaking the rules. What do you think?"
Diana looked determined. "She's not going to get away with this."
I hope not. I've got the chamber almost done anyway - guess I should finish it just in case…
"Wait a minute."
He had just felt a slight change in the consistency of the floor.
"What is it?" Diana strode into the room.
He stamped his foot again to make sure. "Here. This is hollow."
"Cheval?"
"Huh?"
"I thought I might use a baccarat term this time. I still seem to be bringing you luck."
"Hrn." Despite himself, he smiled as he dropped to the floor. "Help me find the edges of this."
A few seconds, and they had determined it was a small area, about a foot square, that was making the sound.
"How are we going to do this without her noticing?" Diana asked, clearly worried.
"If it's a safe, she puts things in, she takes things out. There has to be a way to do this without tearing up the carpet."
Diana crouched down onto the carpet, knocking softly.
Suddenly, she started kneading the carpet.
"What are you doing?"
She looked up, smiling. "She is a cat, right?"
He rolled his eyes. "If I mentioned something about female logic, you'd kill me, right?"
"Not tonight. Haven't gotten enough out of you yet."
True.
"Here it is." Diana started moving her hands in a circular motion at one end of the square, then pushed down. The carpet suddenly parted and a trapdoor slowly opened upwards, revealing a safe with a digital lock.
Diana looked like she was going to break it apart with her bare hands - something she could do as easily as tearing open a paper bag.
"Wait!"
"Why? So she knows we took her accursed booty. So what?"
"Anytime you can withhold information from an adversary, you do. It's a matter of principle."
"That's not -"
"What? Not honorable?"
"No, just -"
"Not direct?"
"Underhanded." She suddenly looked chagrined. "Sorry, Batman. I'm used to battle, not espionage. I was taught the art, and Amazons appreciate its necessity, but I always assumed I would be fighting my enemies face to face."
"Yes, and on the plains of Troy, with thousands cheering at midday. I get it. Well, that's not me. I fight in shadows." He paused, thinking.
"You have a plan."
"Always." He took out a small black box out of his utility belt; a slender cable was attached to one end, terminating in a disk. He placed the disk next to the digital readout and tapped the box three times in rapid succession.
One side of the box shimmered, became a graphical display. [Active. Decode?]
He tapped his commlink to activate it again. "Decode. Cover tracks. Heuristics on, access Catwoman files.
"Cover tracks?" Diana asked.
"It will do its best to avoid doing anything that would make our tampering obvious. Takes longer, but worth it in this case. She won't be back for at least a few hours - unless this is a trap, in which case she already knows and it doesn’t matter."
She spread her hands. "Far be it for me to argue with the Batman."
[Decoding proceeding. Heuristics active.]
Several nerve-wracking minutes passed.
[Decoding completed with partial use of heuristics. Combination follows…] Twelve digits rolled past the screen.
"Twelve digits, Batman?"
"She's almost as paranoid as me." He frowned.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, it's just - I would have thought she would have used a truly random cipher. This is her birth month, birth year -"
"- Send her flowers much?" Diana interrupted sweetly.
" - and Isis, her cat's name, in a simple alphabetical code. And yes, every birthday." He smirked. "I could send you flowers on your birthday, but I don't know the Julian calendar equivalent."
She cleared her throat. "For what's it worth, I like roses and orchids."
Had to be. He decided to drop it and sighed, looking warily at the decoder display. "I may just be reading too much into this. She's in a rush, maybe, and the last thing she wants to do is to forget this code and be unable to access the contents of the safe at a moment's notice. Maybe we just got lucky. It happens." He punched the code into the safe's keypad and was rewarded with the sound of tumblers turning. The Tears of Aphrodite were there, next to a diamond brooch and assorted jewelry - some of it even paid for, he thought wryly. Bless her larcenous little heart.
He took out a biohazard evidence bag from his belt and carefully placed the vial into it. It was no more than ten centimeters tall, about what he had estimated. He tapped his left index finger to the palm of his right glove twice. A blue LED light shone from the back of his right glove. Shining it through the translucent alabaster, it showed the vial to be more than two-thirds full.
* * *
The museum curator had been ecstatic to get the vial back - or at least what passed for ecstatic with him.
Bruce surveyed the ballroom. In keeping with the exhibit's theme of ancient Mediterranean culture, replicas of Grecian pottery and sculpture adorned the tables. Members of Gotham's wealthiest families filled the room: eating, drinking, dancing, and talking among themselves. As he moved through the crowd, he shook hands, kissed cheeks, and schmoozed, waving his wineglass around for emphasis. He noticed the appraising looks on the faces of the single women. Probably wondering if I've dumped Diana yet, or if she's grown tired of me. Won't they be disappointed when she arrives - if she can make it. Supervillains have such bad timing.
And then he saw someone who didn't belong. Speak of the devil.
He casually made his way over to her and said quietly, "Selina! How unexpected. I didn't realize you were on the guest list."
"Oh, I wasn't." Selina pulled an invitation out of her handbag and showed it to him. "Don DiNardo gave me his."
"Those aren't transferable, you know."
"A technicality." She shrugged. "I keep missing you. Haven't seen you around lately, day or night. You need to remember to break in when I'm actually home."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
She stared at him as if she'd never seen him before, shaking her head in apparent disbelief. "I still can't believe it's you."
"Selina, are you feeling all right? Of course it's me. You're at my party. I live here." He laughed. "At least, that's what the funny guys in the white coats tell me."
"You know what I mean." She lowered her voice to a whisper, forcing him to lean perilously close to her. "My Dark Knight."
He affected an air of polite befuddlement as his heart skipped a beat. Let's see if I can bluff her. "Of course it's dark. It's eleven o'clock. Selina, what -"
Her eyes were suddenly hard and glistening. "All this time, it was you. I can't believe what a dolt I've been."
His mind was racing. Why is she here? She doesn't have the Tears. Assuming Circe wasn't lying, she already knows I'm Batman.
"Oh, Selina! Don't be so hard on yourself. We had a few laughs. It just didn’t work out, babe." He cocked his head fatuously to one side. "Don't tell me you're sentimental."
She couldn't want to just blow my cover, could she? Need to get her drunk - fast. Or at least make it seem that she is, so no one will believe anything she says.
She raised an eyebrow. "Look who's talking, Mister Roses-and-Orchids. You could choose something different next year, you know."
He ignored her. "Selina," he said with mock solemnity, "I think you could use a drink. Good thing I know the host." He flagged down a waiter and picked out two champagne flutes.
"Here you go," he said, handing her one. "Drink up, babe!"
Selina looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm on to you. This whole 'himbo' routine isn't going to work anymore." And she downed the champagne in one gulp. "Cristal?"
"Of course, gorgeous." And he beamed.
"Well." She gave him the empty champagne flute, stepped back, and spun around, showing off her dress and her assets, he thought. I'm not sure that neckline could get any lower. Her dress was made of a sheer black fabric, and had a low-cut back and a plunging neckline contrasted by long, flowing sleeves. Her hair was caught up in back, held in place by a jeweled ornament.
"So - who's the act? The Bat, or the playboy?"
"I don't understand -"
She tapped her foot. "Come on, Bruce! I like to think I'm a little bit brighter than the bimbos you usually bed. Though you seem to be concentrating on one in particular lately."
He pretended not to understand her jibe. "I've been busy." Busy trying to figure out what the hell you're up to, for one.
Selina threaded her arm through his. "You're always so busy, Bruce - what a shame. No doubt you've been planning this charming party. But where’s your Amazonian acquisition? Shouldn't she be the feature of this exhibition?"
His mouth tensed before he could force it to resume Bruce Wayne’s typical blithe expression. "I'd love to see you call her that to her face, but she’s off saving the world somewhere." He set his untouched champagne flute on a nearby table. "That’s the problem with these superhero types - they don’t have much regard for social commitments. Shall we dance?"
Without waiting for a response, he moved Selina’s hand to his shoulder, placed his other hand on the small of her back, and steered her into a waltz.
"I do hope you don’t plan on stealing any more artifacts," he murmured.
In one quick motion, she narrowed the space between them until her breasts pressed against his torso. "It’s not just the artifacts I’m interested in, Batman."
"You don’t say?" He abruptly spun her around. It didn't follow the music - a slow waltz - but it elicited oohs and aaahs from the crowd all the same.
It also made her skirt twirl, so he could get a good look at her legs. As nice as I remember - and no way she could have hidden anything on them. At least, nowhere that she could take out inconspicuously. Damn. Too obvious.
She snapped back to him from the turn; he placed his hands on her neck and sensuously slid them down her shoulders and sleeves.
Her eyes glowed softly. "My, Bruce, you should teach Gotham's finest your frisking technique. I might get arrested more often."
"I'd love to. Turn yourself in, and I'll make sure you get the frisking you deserve."
She tsked and her eyes widened in mock horror. "All those men frisking poor little me! Bet you'd watch behind a one-way mirror. You pervert." She looked at him, her gaze suddenly hungry. "Pussies hate crowds. They'd rather be petted by someone they know."
"Isis must really miss me, then."
She let her hips sway sideways just a bit. "Her, too."
The music changed - a tango now. He heard a chorus of murmurs from the women who had been sitting the waltz out as they dragged their partners onto the dance floor.
Must be the ballroom dance club's night out. Tango is a lot harder than a basic Viennese waltz.
And an alarm bell sounded in his head. The tango's dance position is cheek to cheek.
He looked at Selina. Her smile spoke of softly falling feathers and missing birds.
Yet Bruce still let the ghost of a leer play on his lips. "Perhaps we should see what really interests you."
"Oh, I'd love that." She arched her back and - almost - purred. And they started with the Caminata, the slow sensuous walking step of the Argentine Tango. The dance seemed tailor made for Selina's catlike grace.
"Forgotten, had you?" she whispered, so close he could feel her warm breath on his neck.
"There's always hope."
She laughed softly. "Naughty Bruce! That will cost you." She had timed it perfectly - the music had reached a free-form moment, and she started with an improvisational Zarandeo that made some of the dancers stop dead in their tracks. At one point, she whipped the ornament out of her hair, causing it to cascade around her shoulders.
God, I'd almost forgotten how absolutely sensual she can be.
The dance continued. Bruce and Selina prowled about the dance floor, trading steps. At one point, she balanced on one leg and wrapped the other around him, drawing her heel down his back and bringing their bodies together. He willed himself not to react.
She teased him anyway, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Don't think that's your Bat-light. That must be why you couldn't catch me all those times. It was getting in the way." She looked up at him, and Bruce realized with a start that despite her tone of voice and her bravado, her eyes were misty.
He saw a flash out of the corner of his eye. The Gotham Examiner's society photographer was hard at work, capturing the latest Bruce Wayne bacchanalian escapade.
"You look a bit… a bit flushed, Selina. Let me get you a little something." He guided her off the dance floor and beckoned to a passing waiter. "A glass of champagne for the lady, please."
The waiter left, and they sat down at a nearby love seat. Selina fussed with the hem of her skirt the whole time.
"You called me a lady. How nice. Getting soft in your old age?"
Whatever.
The waiter returned almost immediately, handing the brimming flute to Selina. She took it, and then turned to the side to sneeze.
"Sorry. Must be that waiter's cologne." The sudden flash of vulnerability he had seen was now gone - or buried. "Don’t you remember how much fun we had together? Can't you see what you’re missing?"
"I know exactly what I’m missing," he snapped, his patience wearing thin. "What do you want?"
"Why, Mr. Wayne!" she said, batting her eyes. "All I want is to dance with Gotham's most eligible bachelor. Or is that Bat-chelor?" She leaned closer to him, a sly smile on her lips. "Come on, Bruce, you’re no fun. That goody-two-shoes in the red go-go boots isn’t your type."
He lowered his voice to a Bat-growl. "If you don’t tell me what you’re up to, Ms. Kyle, I’ll make you truly sorry."
"Ms. Kyle," she repeated slowly. For a brief moment she seemed hurt. "Ah well."
"Selina, I'm warning you…"
"A kiss for old time's sake?"
She moved to embrace him, then pulled back sharply. "Mr. Wayne! How dare you!" Seizing her flute, she dashed its contents in his face.
He tried to evade the splash, but she had trapped him perfectly, and he had almost no room to maneuver. Reflexively, he closed his eyes as he felt the cold champagne trickle down his cheeks and onto his lips. Grabbing his handkerchief, he wiped his face, then sniffed the now-sodden cloth. It smelled of Cristal and…salt.
Tears?!
Got to get out of here. He pasted on a pained expression and clapped the handkerchief over his face. "My eyes! What did you do to me?"
Careful to focus his gaze toward the ground, he stumbled out of the ballroom toward the staircase leading to the master suite. Once out of sight and earshot of the guests, he activated his League communicator.
"Batman to Zatanna."
"Zee here. Did she -"
"Yes. I need you here - now!"
"All right, all right. Be there in a second."
He felt a rush of air and a loud popping sound. "That you, Zee?"
"Yes, it's me. Damn, no need to clench your eyes that tightly. You know, you could do worse than me."
"Save it."
He heard a peal of laughter come from her, and felt a little better, despite himself.
"Here you go," she said, and he felt her wrap a silky piece of fabric around his head, covering his eyes. "Now you don't have to worry about my using you for my own nefarious purposes, and I don't have to worry about an enraged Amazon rearranging my face."
"Glad to see we're all coping with our personal crises."
"Well, Bruce, you've still got your sense of humor - or whatever it is you call it. Now, hold my hand..."
Obediently, he held out his hand. He felt her take it, and suddenly he felt as if he had been spun about a dozen times. Teleportation.
"And, here we are. I'll just pop out…" and he felt the air rush again.
The timbre of her voice changed - it was coming in from loudspeakers now.
Tentatively, Bruce took off the scarf and looked around. Computer terminal, screens everywhere, all as he had left it a scant twelve hours ago.
His audio-visual cell for the duration: an entire chamber completely enclosed in titanium-aluminum alloy, built in the middle of the Batcave. Shower, bathroom, sleeping cot, computer terminal, floor-to-ceiling screens...
And no doors or windows.
The elaborate system of cameras and monitors meant that he could see anyone entering the Cave, and if he permitted, they could see him. He'd come up with the solution after consulting with Zatanna, who had theorized that the effect of the Tears was probably only triggered by contact with another person's direct gaze.
Perseus had been able to fight Medusa without being turned to stone by using his shield as a mirror. The photons that were reflected off Medusa's face would have turned Perseus to stone. But Medusa's gaze did not petrify those who looked at her indirectly, through a mirror.
He was no magician, but Zatanna had said that mathematics ruled the cosmos, be it magic or science. All mathematics were systems of axioms and rules. If mathematics ruled the cosmos, then magic had to follow rules. And this had given Bruce the idea, because he knew something the ancient Greeks did not - that light did not really "bounce". Light's photons are absorbed by mirrors, and new ones are emitted by the atoms on its surface. If gazing at Medusa indirectly, through a mirror, was safe, then the curse - the contagion - was carried, had to be carried by the photons emitted from the surface of the Gorgon's face.
Yet the mirror itself did not turn to stone. So the effect only worked on living creatures, and only on those unfortunate enough to receive the cursed photons. Ergo, cameras, which would break the chain of contagion, and were also guaranteed not to turn to stone - or fall cataclysmically in love.
Assuming the Tears - a deity's gift - were like the Gorgon's gaze - a deity's curse.
Zatanna had objected, saying that mirrors of the time had been quite imperfect. It could be that the Medusa's curse was gnostic, requiring sufficient knowledge of her appearance, and that the mirrors of the time made the gnosis insufficient, short-circuiting the curse. If that were the case, a modern-day mirror might have doomed Perseus. And Bruce's cameras would be like unto perfect mirrors.
If, if, if…
They would soon find out who was right.
Thus, he had hesitated before finally looking at Zatanna's image on the floor-to-ceiling monitor.
"How are you feeling?" Zatanna asked, her voice strained.
"I'm not madly in love, if that's what you're asking. I was right. Photons are the carrier."
She exhaled, visibly relieved. "I've never been so glad to be wrong. Now, the
handkerchief - pass it out."
Bruce placed the wet handkerchief into a small opening. He pressed a button and a door closed, sealing the opening. He pressed the button again.
"Got it." Bruce saw Zatanna lean over to the side and pick up the handkerchief from the open, airlock-like compartment. And then he noticed she was wearing gloves.
"Gloves? Why, Zee, whatever are you afraid of? I mean, you could do worse, right?"
Zatanna eyes narrowed. "You know, I could just leave you in there and let you stew for a couple of months. Hang out with Circe in Vegas, learn some dark arts, catch a few shows…"
He pursed his lips in annoyance. "I guess I'll have to endure your jokes until you
find a counterspell?"
"If I find a counterspell." She looked grim all of sudden. "Well, at worst it's just a few months. The Bat Clan can handle Gotham for a while."
"Fine," he growled, sitting down in frustration. "I just… God, this is infuriating."
"Don’t worry. I'm sure I'll think of something. I'm bringing in Dr. Fate, too." She held up the handkerchief. "It was already super-absorbent, and I added a magical entrapment charm. We've got our sample. Neat little combination of high-technology and magic." She sealed the handkerchief in a bag.
"Bruce, how did Catwoman get the Tears into the champagne?"
He was removing all his outer clothing and putting it into a burn bag. "She'd just gotten it from a waiter. Unless she'd bribed him to bring a flute that she'd poured
earlier and spiked with the Tears…but no, the champagne was still effervescent." I
know she can see me on the outside screens, but I really don't care right now.
"Nice undies," Zatanna said, whistling. "And no Bat symbol in evidence there, either. And in high-definition video, too. Looks like something I could show at the next League all-hands meeting."
He ignored her, pacing around his cell. "It must have had something to do with the sneeze."
"The sneeze?"
"Yes, right after the waiter handed her the flute, she turned away for a second to
sneeze. Said something about his cologne being too strong. She must have doctored the champagne then. But I can't figure out where she hid the Tears."
"Was Catwoman wearing long sleeves?"
"She was; they were among the first things I checked. She didn't have anything hidden on her legs either."
"Guess you checked her out pretty thoroughly, then."
"Would Bruce Wayne do any less?"
He accessed the video from the ballroom's security camera, making sure that it played on the external monitors as well. He fast-forwarded until he reached their dance, then played it frame-by-frame.
"Interesting barrette," Zatanna said.
They moved slowly into the tango. Selina reached for her hair and removed the barrette, shaking her hair out as she jiggled other parts of her body.
"There's your answer. She must have had a tiny container hidden inside the barrette, and palmed it while she distracted you. Then I bet she tucked it into her sleeve, since you'd already searched her. Basic sleight-of-hand." Zatanna smirked. "Guess you need a refresher course in stage magic - or maybe you were paying attention to other things when my father was teaching you."
He couldn't help smiling slightly. "Despite what you may think, nailing you wasn't the only thing on my mind." He sealed the burn bag, placed it into a larger airlock and pressed a button.
"Sure. You were eighteen. You were probably also thinking about eating."
"I've always been good at multitasking." He started rummaging through the small dresser in the sleeping area, found a pair of jeans.
"You're smiling again, Bruce?" She shook her head. "Diana really is a good influence, I must admit. Don't forget though, I had you first." But she was actually pouting slightly.
"Zee... you should be glad you're not with me."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Bruce…love the jeans and no shirt look, by the way."
She looked down, then suddenly looked up again, shyly. "You know, there is something you could do right now to avoid being locked up."
"What's that?"
"Just… just pick somebody you wouldn't mind falling madly in love with for a few months." She coughed, looking abashed. "You know, somebody you know. Somebody you could trust not to take advantage of your, um -"
Bruce was rolling his eyes. "Let me guess. You?"
She laughed, embarrassed. "Well, now that you mention it…" She blushed furiously. "Oh, just forget it."
"Zee."
"Yes?"
"I haven't said no."
"No." She eyed him suspiciously. "No, you haven't. But - I guess I figured, you know, Diana…"
"What about her?"
"Well, you and she - that is, I thought you would prefer…"
"Zee, I want my feelings for her to be real."
Zatanna smiled sadly. "Whereas with me, it's okay if they're fake?"
He hesitated.
"Bruce, I shouldn't have asked that. I'm sorry. We've been friends for a long time, and I won't let our fling so long ago get in the way of that." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "But there will be a price to pay if you go through with it."
"What's that?"
"See if you can get Superman to keep Diana from strangling me when she hears the news."
Suddenly Zatanna put her hand to her ear. "Okay, Fate, I'll be right there." She turned to Bruce. "Kent's got an idea he wants to try. We'll keep working on the counterspell for now, and save the…other as Plan B."
"Don't you mean Plan Zee?"
"Two wisecracks in the same hour? She really is good for you."
* * *
Despite his best efforts to keep his routine, Bruce found himself slipping into a state of lethargy after a few days in the cocoon. He couldn't say he missed the sunlight - he would sometimes go for days without being out during in daylight when the case was particularly involved.
"You are not looking your best, Master Bruce."
"Nice to see you too."
"You could shave, you know."
"That is true. It would be physically possible to do that."
"You look like - what's that word they use nowadays? You look like trailer trash."
"Been watching Springer again, Alfred?"
"It does pass the time. Much as a laxative helps pass other things." Before Bruce had a chance to react to the proper English gentleman's crude allusion, Alfred bowed. "Miss Diana of Themy-"
"Alfred, for Chrissake, I know who she is!"
"Propriety must be observed, sir." He turned to leave. "This is why you ought to shave."
Diana was already standing there, her face dour. She was carrying a small tote bag.
"Bruce -"
"Yes, I should shave."
"Well, yes, that would help. Facial hair looks better on Clark."
"Hrn."
She sat down - there were a number of chairs still there from the Bat Clan meeting earlier - and placed the bag on one of the other chairs. "Seriously, though. How are you holding up? Any news from Zatanna or Kent?"
"Zee just called. She said they had a major breakthrough last night. It's still going to take a while, but now they know what to do."
Diana's face lit up. "That's wonderful!" And she leaned closer to the camera. "I -
I've missed you. I've been thinking about you a lot."
She's so happy… He forced himself to act nonchalant. "Is that a fact?"
"Yes, it is a fact, and don't act so coy. The Bat Clan all have noticed your - what is that word? - your moping."
"Moping. Right."
"Yes, well, Dick used stronger language, I think. Something about you lying around like something that rhymes with herd."
His eyes narrowed. "It's nice to know that all those years of prep school I paid for
gave him such an impressive vocabulary." When I get out of here, I'm going to lay
that insolent whelp out flat on the tatami.
Diana looked at him with mild distaste. "What is it about men and their need to regress to their caveman past, anyway?"
He gave her a tight smile. "Your Highness, the only part of my toilette I am
neglecting, if I may use Alfred's words, is the daily masochistic ritual of passing a
blade over my face. Besides, Alfred's told everyone I'm sick as a dog and in bed. I
can't grow a week's worth of stubble overnight when I get out of here."
"So your unkempt appearance is really all due to your dedication to the mission."
Diana's deadpans are improving.
"Everything I do is in service of the mission."
"Even not shaving."
"Even thus."
Diana suddenly laughed. "How can I argue with male logic?"
"I don't know. You could give it a go sometime."
Diana shook her head in mock sympathy. "I suppose I should try to rescue you from your dungeon."
Bruce smiled lopsidedly. "The princess rescuing the beast. That's a new one. But
whatever would you do with me, once I became your love slave?"
She grinned wickedly. "I've been composing a list that would make Ovid blush."
Ovid. I better read the Metamorphoses again. Better yet, the Ars Amatoria. "I thought you said the Romans were posers."
"I said my mother thinks they were posers. I, on the other hand, enjoy a bit of
kitsch as much as the next Amazon."
Bruce heard himself laugh. "You really are almost nothing like what I expected."
"Is that a good thing?"
"How can a delightful surprise be anything but a good thing?"
"You have a honeyed tongue, Bruce." And she chuckled. "You're more like Odysseus than you know."
"Thanks, I think."
"It is definitely a compliment. Now," she said, getting up, "I think it's time you
did some martial arts - snap you out of your morose mood. Why don't you put on your gi, and I'll put on mine?" She produced hers from her tote bag. "Is there a place for me to change?"
"Right where you are is fine."
"I'm sure it would be, but I'd rather you didn't get distracted. Mental discipline,
remember? Now, I thought it would be good for us to review Karthene forms,
specifically the third, Prolonged Siege."
Prolonged Siege. How apropos.
* * *
"Bruce?"
He opened his eyes, and was startled to see the red glow of J'onn's eyes piercing the chamber's total darkness.
Squeezing his lids shut, hoping somehow to avoid Tears-induced infatuation, Bruce turned his head. "Leave. Now."
"Your therapy has been unsuccessful. It's time to try a different approach."
In an eyeblink, Bruce was free of the cocoon and, he realized, in the middle of a much larger and more comfortable bed than he had slept on in some time. He reached behind him until he could touch the headboard, then recognized its intricate carving.
He wondered how he was going to tell J'onn that, rumors aside, he really didn't swing that way, and that at least on this planet, laws prohibited sexual contact between therapists and clients. Okay, he's a shapeshifter, but still…
He heard J'onn's voice again, sounding as though it were from across the room. "On Earth, psychologists call this technique 'flooding.'"
"I don't think Alfred would appreciate having to clean up water damage," he said, but the Martian was already vanishing.
"That's not what he meant, lover," Bruce heard Diana say.
How did she get here? He heard her footsteps grow closer, then felt the mattress give ever so slightly as she sat down next to him.
"Water won't be involved," she murmured, as she ran her hand down his chest. "Unless you want it to be. Don't you have a Jacuzzi big enough for two?"
"Or three," Zatanna breathed, adding her weight to the bed. "But let's not speculate. Why don't I make it bigger right now? Egralne securb izzucaj!" She settled on his other side and ran her fingers through his hair.
He couldn't deny a certain guilty pleasure at the thought of both of them in his bed - or his bathtub - but how the hell was he supposed to get over his anxieties, all the while avoiding eye contact with either of them! He tried to move, but his limbs seemed paralyzed.
"Cat got your tongue?" he heard Selina ask. "How about now?" He felt her mouth against his, her tongue parting his lips.
Circe's honeyed voice joined the chorus. "Bruce darling, I thought I'd give you another chance, for Odysseus's sake." He felt her hand stroke his inner thigh.
And then not a part of him remained untouched, and he wanted, and he yearned, and he felt the pressure building, and no one but him could hear Annika's screams in the dark, punctuated by a gunshot -
Bruce sat up quickly, nearly banging his head on the dresser next to his cot. His sheets were drenched with sweat.
He was alone with his thoughts.
And his fears.
* * *
"I've got the counterspell prepared. I'm sending in the blindfold now."
After sixteen days of confinement, Bruce had never heard more welcome words. Only Selina's periodic attempts to break into the Manor had allayed his boredom. Fortunately, his security measures and his protégés had ensured that she was unable to enter.
He pressed the button and the compartment opened. Pulling out the scarf, he tied it around his head.
"Ready?" Zatanna asked, sounding nervous.
"Let's do it." He felt the strange spinning sensation, heard the pop, and realized he was outside his cell.
She recited an incantation in a language he couldn't even begin to recognize. It didn't even sound like her usual backward English spells. If anything, it sounded like words that had been reversed, rearranged, and then spoken with a French accent.
"And... that's it. Okay, Bruce, you can take off the blindfold now."
He untied the knot and removed the scarf. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes.
Zatanna stood before him, looking concerned. The light from the Cave glinted off her hair and seemed to shine from her violet-blue eyes. Why hadn't he ever noticed before how beautiful, how radiant she was?
He smiled, enjoying the simple pleasure of gazing into her face. "Have I ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are?" Why did I just say that?
She rolled her eyes, chuckling. "Good one. Now, any dizziness or -"
"God, I could just listen to your voice forever." I can't believe I'm saying this. "I 'see your coral lips to move, and with your breath you do perfume the air'. I don't even deserve to breathe the same air you do."
Oh, no.
"Bruce? You're scaring me. And that's saying something, coming from you."
Seeing Zatanna's concern, he felt an almost overpowering urge to reassure her. "There's nothing to be frightened about, love. We're together. I don't have any plans. Would you like to bear my children?" Shut up! This is Zee, you nitwit!
Her eyes widened. "Diana's going to kill me."
"That's okay, darling," he heard himself say. "She'll kill me too. And then we'll be
together. Won't that be nice?" Despite his best efforts, he felt his smile widening to goofy proportions. I must look like a complete dork.
Zatanna stared at him for a while in apparent disbelief that swiftly turned to panic.
She backhanded him, saying "Snap out of it, dummy!"
He rubbed his cheek. "Honey, it's all right with me if you want to play rough." God! Four months of this…
Zatanna put a hand to her ear. "Zatanna to Wonder Woman. Um, Diana…there's been a…small problem. No, no, no, he's all right, it's just…calm down, Diana…thespelldidn'tworkandhelookedatme."
Zatanna winced, apparently at the volume of the reply. "Well, we thought it would work, but…you said you couldn't be here! Yes, I know the space station falling out of orbit was important! Diana, it's not like I did this on purpose!" She winced again, and Bruce felt indignant on her behalf.
"All right. Yes, you can come by - wait, let me check with Lover Boy here - that's a joke, Diana!"
She glanced at Bruce. "Diana wants to stop by and see you. Is that all right?"
He heard himself reply, "As long as she doesn't take too much time away from you, sweetie. Hang on a second." He went over to the desk and grabbed a small notepad and a pen. Sitting on the edge of the desk, he wrote:
Spell partly successful
Speech and emotion affected, but not ability to reason.
Motor skills mostly under my control.
Fix it. NOW!
He walked back to her and held up the notepad. "Here you go, honeybun. Do read it."
Zatanna grimaced. "What is it? A love poem?"
He noted that even her grimace didn't diminish her beauty. "Please read it,
snugglebunny."
Zatanna hit her forehead with her palm. "Great. A lovesick Batman - who probably writes bad poetry. Could this day get any worse?"
Bruce pouted.
"All right, all right - and quit the pouting, will you? I don't think your facial
muscles can take it." She took the notepad. Her eyebrows rose.
"Diana? You still there? Okay, it's just gotten even weirder…I'm not sure I can even describe what he's like…Yeah, come on by. Just don't kill me, all right?"
She turned back to Bruce. "She's coming over. I'd start looking for something larger to write on, if I were you. You're going to have a lot of explaining to do."
I'm not the only one who needs to explain. But he couldn’t imagine disobeying the woman who was the center of his universe, and immediately started rummaging through his desk drawers. This is creepy. It's like the lasso.
Locating a legal pad, he held it up. "Is this what you wanted, lover? And afterwards, can't we make sweet love in the moonlight?" How did Mila put up with this crap?
Zatanna shook her head slowly and sighed. "Okay, now my day's worse. Elbuod natilopomsoc raeppa."
He watched as she drained the glass in a couple of swallows, and then pressed the intercom button. "Alfred?"
"Yes, Miss Zatara?"
"What excuse has Wayne Enterprises been giving the media to explain Bruce's absence?"
"A rather virulent strain of Asiatic flu. But I've hinted to them that his recovery is coming along nicely."
"You'd better tell them he's just suffered a relapse."
* * *
"Master Bruce, Miss Diana is here to see you."
Bruce tore his gaze away from Zatanna and saw Diana at the top of the stairs to the Cave.
"I think I'll leave you two alone for a moment," Zatanna said, as she headed for the stairs.
"But sweetheart? I'll miss you." He sighed. "Hurry back."
I hope Diana's calmed down since she spoke to Zee.
As Diana came closer, Bruce could see the expression on her face - worried, saddened, and angry. He handed her the note he'd written, which explained the situation.
She read it, her brow creasing. "That's what Zatanna said, all right." Then she looked up, and Bruce saw her eyes flash. "Answer me one thing: did she do this on purpose?"
"Diana! How could you say such a thing? She's the most wonderful woman in the world. I'm so lucky." He wanted to fight for Zatanna's honor, but instead grabbed his legal pad and started to write:
No, she didn't. Trust me.
She feels awful about this.
Diana took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I believe you both. What's she going to do about it? You can't stay like this for four months!"
Bruce heard himself sighing happily, imagining four months with the love of his life.
Tell me about it, he wrote. Do you have any ideas?
She thought for a moment. "I'd start by avoiding daytime talk shows for the time being."
Although he realized that he wouldn't mind telling the world how he felt about Zatanna, he managed to scribble, Don't compare me to that Cruise idiot.
Turning away from him, Diana started to pace. "I can't believe that Aphrodite had this result in mind when she felt sorry for Mila."
Bruce tried to remain silent, knowing that saying anything at all wouldn't help matters.
"I mean," she said, walking back in his direction, "Aphrodite is playful, even capricious, but she's not cruel. And what's happening to you is nothing but cruel, Bruce." She held up her wrists and showed him her bracelets. "No one deserves to be a slave, not even of love. I won't let this happen!"
What's your solution? he wrote.
She sighed in frustration. "I don't know. Callina said the potion was nigh on impossible to counteract. Most potions of this kind access a god's power indirectly - the ingredients act as a kind of antenna for the god's power, or rather for the portion of the god's power which is manifest in our plane."
"Zatanna explained it better," Bruce said. "She's so smart." Then he scribbled frantically and showed Diana the pad:
Just ignore me. I can't help it.
"I know you can't." Diana looked thoughtful. "But maybe we can turn this to our advantage."
"How?" He glanced around forlornly. "Where did Zee-Zee go? I miss her."
"I'm going to need a few supplies."
Like what? he wrote.
"Firewood, wine, herbs, flowers, a young lamb…"
Picnic or sacrifice? he wrote.
"In your current state, a romantic meal outside is out of the question."
Thanks to Djinn for the beta.
Part 7.2
"Tropsnart su ot etius," Zatanna said. Bruce heard a loud popping sound and felt like he'd been spun around on a carnival ride. They all instantly appeared in his suite.
Diana glanced over at the flute in his hand. "I see you were successful. Did she try to seduce you?" She was trying to sound casual, but Bruce noticed she was having difficulty meeting his gaze as she asked.
That's kind of sweet. "Let's say she wasn't completely disinterested." He quickly changed the subject when he saw Diana's eyebrows shoot up. "What happened with the lions?"
"They were curled up in the sun, just like the big cats they are," Zatanna said, sighing. "I think they'd just been fed; they were too lazy to move. We appeared in what must have been their litter box, though." She grimaced.
"Sounds like Circe," Bruce said. "One down, one to go."
Diana seemed to be smothering her jealousy. "Do you think Circe and Catwoman are still working together?" she asked.
Bruce shook his head. "Not from the way Circe referred to her. It sounded like she only employed Catwoman to help her steal the flute. The Tears of Aphrodite were Catwoman's payment - along with my identity."
Diana pursed her lips. "So Selina knows who you are. Great."
One more grudge she's got against Circe.
"At least we shouldn't have to worry about Circe controlling you through Catwoman." Zatanna did a double take. "Wait a minute - you said Selina?" She turned to Diana. "You know her?"
"We haven't met yet, but I'm certainly looking forward to it," Diana said grimly. "Now that she knows who Bruce is, he's vulnerable. What are you going to do to help protect him from that porne?"
Zatanna raised an eyebrow at the word, but wisely did not comment. "I will construct a magic shield, but I wouldn't rely on that completely. Something originating from a major goddess like Aphrodite has a good chance of overwhelming whatever I could create." She turned to Bruce. "If you want my advice, stay away from Selina unless you're in uniform. That face shield should come in handy."
* * *
Diana had been quiet a while as they flew back to Gotham. Bruce presumed she was staring out the window at the landscape below, or else lost in thought.
Finally, she spoke. "You're probably safe at work, and you're definitely safe as Batman. But I don't suppose you could cancel all your social engagements from now until August 30."
"I can get out of some of them, but not all. Bruce Wayne is supposed to be a playboy, not a recluse."
"It's still strange to hear you talk about yourself in the third person like that." She rested her hand on his arm. "Who are you really, when you take off the cowl?"
"Until recently, I would have said I was Batman, with or without the cowl. But when you asked me under the lasso - I couldn't believe it myself, what I said. But it must be true. So I guess the answer still is that I really don't know."
"You're like Theodorus."
"Who?"
"The actor. I saw him perform numerous times in tragedies and comedies. He always wore the appropriate mask for the type of play he was in - that's where those masks you people use to represent drama come from, you know."
"So you're saying that Batman and Bruce Wayne are both masks?"
She nodded. "One of tragedy, one of comedy. The real you is somewhere in between."
He thought of the mirror he'd shattered in Amsterdam, twenty years ago. Is there even a real me?
Diana covered his hand with hers, seeming to sense his discomfort. "So, when are we going to get the Tears back from Selina?"
"Tonight. I'll wait outside until she leaves, then break into her apartment and search it." Nice change of subject.
"Bruce, this doesn't just involve you. I'm coming too."
"Your uniform hardly protects you from exposure! What if she returns? The thought of you as Selina's love slave makes me want to - to..."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'd certainly like to see where this is going."
"Dammit, Diana, you know what I mean! Neither of us can afford to be in that position. If you're coming with me, you're wearing something more covering."
She held up both hands, as if in surrender. "And how exactly are you going to arrange for that?"
"For starters, put your hands down and take the stick. You'll find out."
Once she took over the controls, Bruce contacted Alfred and detailed his specifications. He hasn't failed me yet - though it'll be interesting to see what he comes up with on such short notice.
* * *
They hid in the shadows on a rooftop across from Selina's apartment building, Diana's form momentarily silhouetted against the night sky as they shifted their position.
Alfred really is a genius. Diana's midnight-black cowl had large, horned eyes, and her gauntlets sported talons - both nods to the owl-eyed goddess Athena. Not even a bit of her face is exposed.
Diana's lips moved noiselessly for the stealth communicator mode.
[Is she in there?] The words appeared glowing blue on the heads-up display of his cowl.
[Unclear. Informants saw her in vicinity. This time of night, she sometimes gets the munchies - goes back to her place - ]
[For milk and cookies?] The sarcasm seemed to just jump out of the text characters. [Tell me, does she eat out of your hand?]
[You're cute when you're jealous.]
[The mission, remember?]
[Touché, Princess.] A flicker of motion caught his attention. [Showtime.]
Selina came into view through what appeared to be her living room window. She was wearing a robe, but he thought he could see her boots peeking out underneath. She was eating something with a spoon.
A single woman…I bet it's yogurt.
Selina turned toward the window and looked out, an amused expression on her face.
[Think she can see us?] Diana asked.
[Possibly.]
[What do we do now?]
[We wait.]
[For what? An invitation?]
[For her to leave.]
[And what if she doesn't?]
[She will. She doesn’t really know that we're here. She's just paranoid.]
[You ought to know.]
They waited until they saw Selina on the roof, rappelling down the side of the building. Once Selina had disappeared into the night, Diana flew them to her balcony, and Bruce picked the lock and opened the window.
"We won't have time to look everywhere, so we need to look for the most likely places she could hide the vial." Bruce opened his hands. "You spent more time with the hologram; wouldn't you say the vial's about this big?"
"I think so. Any other pointers on how to search, without letting Selina know we were here? Unless you want her to know we were here?"
"Not yet."
* * *
Bruce checked the proximity sensor he'd set. After an hour, neither he nor Diana had found any trace of the Tears. He wasn't sure how much more time they would have before Selina returned.
Diana came in from Selina's bedroom. "Other than learning that she has exotic taste in underwear, I haven't found a thing. You're presuming she would keep the vial close at hand, no?"
"That's what most people would do."
"She must not be 'most people'. What now?"
He thought for a moment. "Let me check her bedroom. Maybe you missed something."
"It's possible; I'm new at this, after all. But I don't think she'd appreciate your snooping in her goodie drawer."
"Goodie drawer?"
"Sex and the City. Kara and Mari introduced me to it. It's where a woman keeps her erotic paraphernalia."
"Kara, huh?"
"And Mari."
"Yeah, her I see. Doubt the Kents let Kara watch it on the farm."
He entered Selina's bedroom and looked around. She didn't hide the vial anywhere obvious, so it must be somewhere… not obvious?
He winced. Brilliant, Bruce. Took you all day to think that one up, I'm sure.
He opened the bottom left dresser drawer and felt around behind it. There was quite a bit of residue from duct tape, and a couple of leftover strips remained. Judging from the pattern of the residue, the overall size of what had been attached resembled the alabaster flask.
"I think I've found where it was," he called to Diana. "But she's moved it, probably someplace off site. Maybe a safe-deposit box - she'd keep it there until right before she's ready to use it."
"Can you get into her safe-deposit box?"
"Maybe - eventually. But we don’t know where she banks, and even if we did, she might not have the box at the same location. Even if we could successfully break into every bank within five miles of here, we don't have time."
Diana stood in the hallway outside the bedroom. "Why not?"
"Because the opening-night party for the museum exhibition is in two days, remember? That's one engagement Bruce Wayne can't get out of. It's being held at the Manor." He left the bedroom, and Diana followed.
"Do you think Selina will show up?"
"She hasn't been invited, so it would be breaking the rules. What do you think?"
Diana looked determined. "She's not going to get away with this."
I hope not. I've got the chamber almost done anyway - guess I should finish it just in case…
"Wait a minute."
He had just felt a slight change in the consistency of the floor.
"What is it?" Diana strode into the room.
He stamped his foot again to make sure. "Here. This is hollow."
"Cheval?"
"Huh?"
"I thought I might use a baccarat term this time. I still seem to be bringing you luck."
"Hrn." Despite himself, he smiled as he dropped to the floor. "Help me find the edges of this."
A few seconds, and they had determined it was a small area, about a foot square, that was making the sound.
"How are we going to do this without her noticing?" Diana asked, clearly worried.
"If it's a safe, she puts things in, she takes things out. There has to be a way to do this without tearing up the carpet."
Diana crouched down onto the carpet, knocking softly.
Suddenly, she started kneading the carpet.
"What are you doing?"
She looked up, smiling. "She is a cat, right?"
He rolled his eyes. "If I mentioned something about female logic, you'd kill me, right?"
"Not tonight. Haven't gotten enough out of you yet."
True.
"Here it is." Diana started moving her hands in a circular motion at one end of the square, then pushed down. The carpet suddenly parted and a trapdoor slowly opened upwards, revealing a safe with a digital lock.
Diana looked like she was going to break it apart with her bare hands - something she could do as easily as tearing open a paper bag.
"Wait!"
"Why? So she knows we took her accursed booty. So what?"
"Anytime you can withhold information from an adversary, you do. It's a matter of principle."
"That's not -"
"What? Not honorable?"
"No, just -"
"Not direct?"
"Underhanded." She suddenly looked chagrined. "Sorry, Batman. I'm used to battle, not espionage. I was taught the art, and Amazons appreciate its necessity, but I always assumed I would be fighting my enemies face to face."
"Yes, and on the plains of Troy, with thousands cheering at midday. I get it. Well, that's not me. I fight in shadows." He paused, thinking.
"You have a plan."
"Always." He took out a small black box out of his utility belt; a slender cable was attached to one end, terminating in a disk. He placed the disk next to the digital readout and tapped the box three times in rapid succession.
One side of the box shimmered, became a graphical display. [Active. Decode?]
He tapped his commlink to activate it again. "Decode. Cover tracks. Heuristics on, access Catwoman files.
"Cover tracks?" Diana asked.
"It will do its best to avoid doing anything that would make our tampering obvious. Takes longer, but worth it in this case. She won't be back for at least a few hours - unless this is a trap, in which case she already knows and it doesn’t matter."
She spread her hands. "Far be it for me to argue with the Batman."
[Decoding proceeding. Heuristics active.]
Several nerve-wracking minutes passed.
[Decoding completed with partial use of heuristics. Combination follows…] Twelve digits rolled past the screen.
"Twelve digits, Batman?"
"She's almost as paranoid as me." He frowned.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing, it's just - I would have thought she would have used a truly random cipher. This is her birth month, birth year -"
"- Send her flowers much?" Diana interrupted sweetly.
" - and Isis, her cat's name, in a simple alphabetical code. And yes, every birthday." He smirked. "I could send you flowers on your birthday, but I don't know the Julian calendar equivalent."
She cleared her throat. "For what's it worth, I like roses and orchids."
Had to be. He decided to drop it and sighed, looking warily at the decoder display. "I may just be reading too much into this. She's in a rush, maybe, and the last thing she wants to do is to forget this code and be unable to access the contents of the safe at a moment's notice. Maybe we just got lucky. It happens." He punched the code into the safe's keypad and was rewarded with the sound of tumblers turning. The Tears of Aphrodite were there, next to a diamond brooch and assorted jewelry - some of it even paid for, he thought wryly. Bless her larcenous little heart.
He took out a biohazard evidence bag from his belt and carefully placed the vial into it. It was no more than ten centimeters tall, about what he had estimated. He tapped his left index finger to the palm of his right glove twice. A blue LED light shone from the back of his right glove. Shining it through the translucent alabaster, it showed the vial to be more than two-thirds full.
* * *
The museum curator had been ecstatic to get the vial back - or at least what passed for ecstatic with him.
Bruce surveyed the ballroom. In keeping with the exhibit's theme of ancient Mediterranean culture, replicas of Grecian pottery and sculpture adorned the tables. Members of Gotham's wealthiest families filled the room: eating, drinking, dancing, and talking among themselves. As he moved through the crowd, he shook hands, kissed cheeks, and schmoozed, waving his wineglass around for emphasis. He noticed the appraising looks on the faces of the single women. Probably wondering if I've dumped Diana yet, or if she's grown tired of me. Won't they be disappointed when she arrives - if she can make it. Supervillains have such bad timing.
And then he saw someone who didn't belong. Speak of the devil.
He casually made his way over to her and said quietly, "Selina! How unexpected. I didn't realize you were on the guest list."
"Oh, I wasn't." Selina pulled an invitation out of her handbag and showed it to him. "Don DiNardo gave me his."
"Those aren't transferable, you know."
"A technicality." She shrugged. "I keep missing you. Haven't seen you around lately, day or night. You need to remember to break in when I'm actually home."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
She stared at him as if she'd never seen him before, shaking her head in apparent disbelief. "I still can't believe it's you."
"Selina, are you feeling all right? Of course it's me. You're at my party. I live here." He laughed. "At least, that's what the funny guys in the white coats tell me."
"You know what I mean." She lowered her voice to a whisper, forcing him to lean perilously close to her. "My Dark Knight."
He affected an air of polite befuddlement as his heart skipped a beat. Let's see if I can bluff her. "Of course it's dark. It's eleven o'clock. Selina, what -"
Her eyes were suddenly hard and glistening. "All this time, it was you. I can't believe what a dolt I've been."
His mind was racing. Why is she here? She doesn't have the Tears. Assuming Circe wasn't lying, she already knows I'm Batman.
"Oh, Selina! Don't be so hard on yourself. We had a few laughs. It just didn’t work out, babe." He cocked his head fatuously to one side. "Don't tell me you're sentimental."
She couldn't want to just blow my cover, could she? Need to get her drunk - fast. Or at least make it seem that she is, so no one will believe anything she says.
She raised an eyebrow. "Look who's talking, Mister Roses-and-Orchids. You could choose something different next year, you know."
He ignored her. "Selina," he said with mock solemnity, "I think you could use a drink. Good thing I know the host." He flagged down a waiter and picked out two champagne flutes.
"Here you go," he said, handing her one. "Drink up, babe!"
Selina looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm on to you. This whole 'himbo' routine isn't going to work anymore." And she downed the champagne in one gulp. "Cristal?"
"Of course, gorgeous." And he beamed.
"Well." She gave him the empty champagne flute, stepped back, and spun around, showing off her dress and her assets, he thought. I'm not sure that neckline could get any lower. Her dress was made of a sheer black fabric, and had a low-cut back and a plunging neckline contrasted by long, flowing sleeves. Her hair was caught up in back, held in place by a jeweled ornament.
"So - who's the act? The Bat, or the playboy?"
"I don't understand -"
She tapped her foot. "Come on, Bruce! I like to think I'm a little bit brighter than the bimbos you usually bed. Though you seem to be concentrating on one in particular lately."
He pretended not to understand her jibe. "I've been busy." Busy trying to figure out what the hell you're up to, for one.
Selina threaded her arm through his. "You're always so busy, Bruce - what a shame. No doubt you've been planning this charming party. But where’s your Amazonian acquisition? Shouldn't she be the feature of this exhibition?"
His mouth tensed before he could force it to resume Bruce Wayne’s typical blithe expression. "I'd love to see you call her that to her face, but she’s off saving the world somewhere." He set his untouched champagne flute on a nearby table. "That’s the problem with these superhero types - they don’t have much regard for social commitments. Shall we dance?"
Without waiting for a response, he moved Selina’s hand to his shoulder, placed his other hand on the small of her back, and steered her into a waltz.
"I do hope you don’t plan on stealing any more artifacts," he murmured.
In one quick motion, she narrowed the space between them until her breasts pressed against his torso. "It’s not just the artifacts I’m interested in, Batman."
"You don’t say?" He abruptly spun her around. It didn't follow the music - a slow waltz - but it elicited oohs and aaahs from the crowd all the same.
It also made her skirt twirl, so he could get a good look at her legs. As nice as I remember - and no way she could have hidden anything on them. At least, nowhere that she could take out inconspicuously. Damn. Too obvious.
She snapped back to him from the turn; he placed his hands on her neck and sensuously slid them down her shoulders and sleeves.
Her eyes glowed softly. "My, Bruce, you should teach Gotham's finest your frisking technique. I might get arrested more often."
"I'd love to. Turn yourself in, and I'll make sure you get the frisking you deserve."
She tsked and her eyes widened in mock horror. "All those men frisking poor little me! Bet you'd watch behind a one-way mirror. You pervert." She looked at him, her gaze suddenly hungry. "Pussies hate crowds. They'd rather be petted by someone they know."
"Isis must really miss me, then."
She let her hips sway sideways just a bit. "Her, too."
The music changed - a tango now. He heard a chorus of murmurs from the women who had been sitting the waltz out as they dragged their partners onto the dance floor.
Must be the ballroom dance club's night out. Tango is a lot harder than a basic Viennese waltz.
And an alarm bell sounded in his head. The tango's dance position is cheek to cheek.
He looked at Selina. Her smile spoke of softly falling feathers and missing birds.
Yet Bruce still let the ghost of a leer play on his lips. "Perhaps we should see what really interests you."
"Oh, I'd love that." She arched her back and - almost - purred. And they started with the Caminata, the slow sensuous walking step of the Argentine Tango. The dance seemed tailor made for Selina's catlike grace.
"Forgotten, had you?" she whispered, so close he could feel her warm breath on his neck.
"There's always hope."
She laughed softly. "Naughty Bruce! That will cost you." She had timed it perfectly - the music had reached a free-form moment, and she started with an improvisational Zarandeo that made some of the dancers stop dead in their tracks. At one point, she whipped the ornament out of her hair, causing it to cascade around her shoulders.
God, I'd almost forgotten how absolutely sensual she can be.
The dance continued. Bruce and Selina prowled about the dance floor, trading steps. At one point, she balanced on one leg and wrapped the other around him, drawing her heel down his back and bringing their bodies together. He willed himself not to react.
She teased him anyway, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Don't think that's your Bat-light. That must be why you couldn't catch me all those times. It was getting in the way." She looked up at him, and Bruce realized with a start that despite her tone of voice and her bravado, her eyes were misty.
He saw a flash out of the corner of his eye. The Gotham Examiner's society photographer was hard at work, capturing the latest Bruce Wayne bacchanalian escapade.
"You look a bit… a bit flushed, Selina. Let me get you a little something." He guided her off the dance floor and beckoned to a passing waiter. "A glass of champagne for the lady, please."
The waiter left, and they sat down at a nearby love seat. Selina fussed with the hem of her skirt the whole time.
"You called me a lady. How nice. Getting soft in your old age?"
Whatever.
The waiter returned almost immediately, handing the brimming flute to Selina. She took it, and then turned to the side to sneeze.
"Sorry. Must be that waiter's cologne." The sudden flash of vulnerability he had seen was now gone - or buried. "Don’t you remember how much fun we had together? Can't you see what you’re missing?"
"I know exactly what I’m missing," he snapped, his patience wearing thin. "What do you want?"
"Why, Mr. Wayne!" she said, batting her eyes. "All I want is to dance with Gotham's most eligible bachelor. Or is that Bat-chelor?" She leaned closer to him, a sly smile on her lips. "Come on, Bruce, you’re no fun. That goody-two-shoes in the red go-go boots isn’t your type."
He lowered his voice to a Bat-growl. "If you don’t tell me what you’re up to, Ms. Kyle, I’ll make you truly sorry."
"Ms. Kyle," she repeated slowly. For a brief moment she seemed hurt. "Ah well."
"Selina, I'm warning you…"
"A kiss for old time's sake?"
She moved to embrace him, then pulled back sharply. "Mr. Wayne! How dare you!" Seizing her flute, she dashed its contents in his face.
He tried to evade the splash, but she had trapped him perfectly, and he had almost no room to maneuver. Reflexively, he closed his eyes as he felt the cold champagne trickle down his cheeks and onto his lips. Grabbing his handkerchief, he wiped his face, then sniffed the now-sodden cloth. It smelled of Cristal and…salt.
Tears?!
Got to get out of here. He pasted on a pained expression and clapped the handkerchief over his face. "My eyes! What did you do to me?"
Careful to focus his gaze toward the ground, he stumbled out of the ballroom toward the staircase leading to the master suite. Once out of sight and earshot of the guests, he activated his League communicator.
"Batman to Zatanna."
"Zee here. Did she -"
"Yes. I need you here - now!"
"All right, all right. Be there in a second."
He felt a rush of air and a loud popping sound. "That you, Zee?"
"Yes, it's me. Damn, no need to clench your eyes that tightly. You know, you could do worse than me."
"Save it."
He heard a peal of laughter come from her, and felt a little better, despite himself.
"Here you go," she said, and he felt her wrap a silky piece of fabric around his head, covering his eyes. "Now you don't have to worry about my using you for my own nefarious purposes, and I don't have to worry about an enraged Amazon rearranging my face."
"Glad to see we're all coping with our personal crises."
"Well, Bruce, you've still got your sense of humor - or whatever it is you call it. Now, hold my hand..."
Obediently, he held out his hand. He felt her take it, and suddenly he felt as if he had been spun about a dozen times. Teleportation.
"And, here we are. I'll just pop out…" and he felt the air rush again.
The timbre of her voice changed - it was coming in from loudspeakers now.
Tentatively, Bruce took off the scarf and looked around. Computer terminal, screens everywhere, all as he had left it a scant twelve hours ago.
His audio-visual cell for the duration: an entire chamber completely enclosed in titanium-aluminum alloy, built in the middle of the Batcave. Shower, bathroom, sleeping cot, computer terminal, floor-to-ceiling screens...
And no doors or windows.
The elaborate system of cameras and monitors meant that he could see anyone entering the Cave, and if he permitted, they could see him. He'd come up with the solution after consulting with Zatanna, who had theorized that the effect of the Tears was probably only triggered by contact with another person's direct gaze.
Perseus had been able to fight Medusa without being turned to stone by using his shield as a mirror. The photons that were reflected off Medusa's face would have turned Perseus to stone. But Medusa's gaze did not petrify those who looked at her indirectly, through a mirror.
He was no magician, but Zatanna had said that mathematics ruled the cosmos, be it magic or science. All mathematics were systems of axioms and rules. If mathematics ruled the cosmos, then magic had to follow rules. And this had given Bruce the idea, because he knew something the ancient Greeks did not - that light did not really "bounce". Light's photons are absorbed by mirrors, and new ones are emitted by the atoms on its surface. If gazing at Medusa indirectly, through a mirror, was safe, then the curse - the contagion - was carried, had to be carried by the photons emitted from the surface of the Gorgon's face.
Yet the mirror itself did not turn to stone. So the effect only worked on living creatures, and only on those unfortunate enough to receive the cursed photons. Ergo, cameras, which would break the chain of contagion, and were also guaranteed not to turn to stone - or fall cataclysmically in love.
Assuming the Tears - a deity's gift - were like the Gorgon's gaze - a deity's curse.
Zatanna had objected, saying that mirrors of the time had been quite imperfect. It could be that the Medusa's curse was gnostic, requiring sufficient knowledge of her appearance, and that the mirrors of the time made the gnosis insufficient, short-circuiting the curse. If that were the case, a modern-day mirror might have doomed Perseus. And Bruce's cameras would be like unto perfect mirrors.
If, if, if…
They would soon find out who was right.
Thus, he had hesitated before finally looking at Zatanna's image on the floor-to-ceiling monitor.
"How are you feeling?" Zatanna asked, her voice strained.
"I'm not madly in love, if that's what you're asking. I was right. Photons are the carrier."
She exhaled, visibly relieved. "I've never been so glad to be wrong. Now, the
handkerchief - pass it out."
Bruce placed the wet handkerchief into a small opening. He pressed a button and a door closed, sealing the opening. He pressed the button again.
"Got it." Bruce saw Zatanna lean over to the side and pick up the handkerchief from the open, airlock-like compartment. And then he noticed she was wearing gloves.
"Gloves? Why, Zee, whatever are you afraid of? I mean, you could do worse, right?"
Zatanna eyes narrowed. "You know, I could just leave you in there and let you stew for a couple of months. Hang out with Circe in Vegas, learn some dark arts, catch a few shows…"
He pursed his lips in annoyance. "I guess I'll have to endure your jokes until you
find a counterspell?"
"If I find a counterspell." She looked grim all of sudden. "Well, at worst it's just a few months. The Bat Clan can handle Gotham for a while."
"Fine," he growled, sitting down in frustration. "I just… God, this is infuriating."
"Don’t worry. I'm sure I'll think of something. I'm bringing in Dr. Fate, too." She held up the handkerchief. "It was already super-absorbent, and I added a magical entrapment charm. We've got our sample. Neat little combination of high-technology and magic." She sealed the handkerchief in a bag.
"Bruce, how did Catwoman get the Tears into the champagne?"
He was removing all his outer clothing and putting it into a burn bag. "She'd just gotten it from a waiter. Unless she'd bribed him to bring a flute that she'd poured
earlier and spiked with the Tears…but no, the champagne was still effervescent." I
know she can see me on the outside screens, but I really don't care right now.
"Nice undies," Zatanna said, whistling. "And no Bat symbol in evidence there, either. And in high-definition video, too. Looks like something I could show at the next League all-hands meeting."
He ignored her, pacing around his cell. "It must have had something to do with the sneeze."
"The sneeze?"
"Yes, right after the waiter handed her the flute, she turned away for a second to
sneeze. Said something about his cologne being too strong. She must have doctored the champagne then. But I can't figure out where she hid the Tears."
"Was Catwoman wearing long sleeves?"
"She was; they were among the first things I checked. She didn't have anything hidden on her legs either."
"Guess you checked her out pretty thoroughly, then."
"Would Bruce Wayne do any less?"
He accessed the video from the ballroom's security camera, making sure that it played on the external monitors as well. He fast-forwarded until he reached their dance, then played it frame-by-frame.
"Interesting barrette," Zatanna said.
They moved slowly into the tango. Selina reached for her hair and removed the barrette, shaking her hair out as she jiggled other parts of her body.
"There's your answer. She must have had a tiny container hidden inside the barrette, and palmed it while she distracted you. Then I bet she tucked it into her sleeve, since you'd already searched her. Basic sleight-of-hand." Zatanna smirked. "Guess you need a refresher course in stage magic - or maybe you were paying attention to other things when my father was teaching you."
He couldn't help smiling slightly. "Despite what you may think, nailing you wasn't the only thing on my mind." He sealed the burn bag, placed it into a larger airlock and pressed a button.
"Sure. You were eighteen. You were probably also thinking about eating."
"I've always been good at multitasking." He started rummaging through the small dresser in the sleeping area, found a pair of jeans.
"You're smiling again, Bruce?" She shook her head. "Diana really is a good influence, I must admit. Don't forget though, I had you first." But she was actually pouting slightly.
"Zee... you should be glad you're not with me."
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Bruce…love the jeans and no shirt look, by the way."
She looked down, then suddenly looked up again, shyly. "You know, there is something you could do right now to avoid being locked up."
"What's that?"
"Just… just pick somebody you wouldn't mind falling madly in love with for a few months." She coughed, looking abashed. "You know, somebody you know. Somebody you could trust not to take advantage of your, um -"
Bruce was rolling his eyes. "Let me guess. You?"
She laughed, embarrassed. "Well, now that you mention it…" She blushed furiously. "Oh, just forget it."
"Zee."
"Yes?"
"I haven't said no."
"No." She eyed him suspiciously. "No, you haven't. But - I guess I figured, you know, Diana…"
"What about her?"
"Well, you and she - that is, I thought you would prefer…"
"Zee, I want my feelings for her to be real."
Zatanna smiled sadly. "Whereas with me, it's okay if they're fake?"
He hesitated.
"Bruce, I shouldn't have asked that. I'm sorry. We've been friends for a long time, and I won't let our fling so long ago get in the way of that." Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "But there will be a price to pay if you go through with it."
"What's that?"
"See if you can get Superman to keep Diana from strangling me when she hears the news."
Suddenly Zatanna put her hand to her ear. "Okay, Fate, I'll be right there." She turned to Bruce. "Kent's got an idea he wants to try. We'll keep working on the counterspell for now, and save the…other as Plan B."
"Don't you mean Plan Zee?"
"Two wisecracks in the same hour? She really is good for you."
* * *
Despite his best efforts to keep his routine, Bruce found himself slipping into a state of lethargy after a few days in the cocoon. He couldn't say he missed the sunlight - he would sometimes go for days without being out during in daylight when the case was particularly involved.
"You are not looking your best, Master Bruce."
"Nice to see you too."
"You could shave, you know."
"That is true. It would be physically possible to do that."
"You look like - what's that word they use nowadays? You look like trailer trash."
"Been watching Springer again, Alfred?"
"It does pass the time. Much as a laxative helps pass other things." Before Bruce had a chance to react to the proper English gentleman's crude allusion, Alfred bowed. "Miss Diana of Themy-"
"Alfred, for Chrissake, I know who she is!"
"Propriety must be observed, sir." He turned to leave. "This is why you ought to shave."
Diana was already standing there, her face dour. She was carrying a small tote bag.
"Bruce -"
"Yes, I should shave."
"Well, yes, that would help. Facial hair looks better on Clark."
"Hrn."
She sat down - there were a number of chairs still there from the Bat Clan meeting earlier - and placed the bag on one of the other chairs. "Seriously, though. How are you holding up? Any news from Zatanna or Kent?"
"Zee just called. She said they had a major breakthrough last night. It's still going to take a while, but now they know what to do."
Diana's face lit up. "That's wonderful!" And she leaned closer to the camera. "I -
I've missed you. I've been thinking about you a lot."
She's so happy… He forced himself to act nonchalant. "Is that a fact?"
"Yes, it is a fact, and don't act so coy. The Bat Clan all have noticed your - what is that word? - your moping."
"Moping. Right."
"Yes, well, Dick used stronger language, I think. Something about you lying around like something that rhymes with herd."
His eyes narrowed. "It's nice to know that all those years of prep school I paid for
gave him such an impressive vocabulary." When I get out of here, I'm going to lay
that insolent whelp out flat on the tatami.
Diana looked at him with mild distaste. "What is it about men and their need to regress to their caveman past, anyway?"
He gave her a tight smile. "Your Highness, the only part of my toilette I am
neglecting, if I may use Alfred's words, is the daily masochistic ritual of passing a
blade over my face. Besides, Alfred's told everyone I'm sick as a dog and in bed. I
can't grow a week's worth of stubble overnight when I get out of here."
"So your unkempt appearance is really all due to your dedication to the mission."
Diana's deadpans are improving.
"Everything I do is in service of the mission."
"Even not shaving."
"Even thus."
Diana suddenly laughed. "How can I argue with male logic?"
"I don't know. You could give it a go sometime."
Diana shook her head in mock sympathy. "I suppose I should try to rescue you from your dungeon."
Bruce smiled lopsidedly. "The princess rescuing the beast. That's a new one. But
whatever would you do with me, once I became your love slave?"
She grinned wickedly. "I've been composing a list that would make Ovid blush."
Ovid. I better read the Metamorphoses again. Better yet, the Ars Amatoria. "I thought you said the Romans were posers."
"I said my mother thinks they were posers. I, on the other hand, enjoy a bit of
kitsch as much as the next Amazon."
Bruce heard himself laugh. "You really are almost nothing like what I expected."
"Is that a good thing?"
"How can a delightful surprise be anything but a good thing?"
"You have a honeyed tongue, Bruce." And she chuckled. "You're more like Odysseus than you know."
"Thanks, I think."
"It is definitely a compliment. Now," she said, getting up, "I think it's time you
did some martial arts - snap you out of your morose mood. Why don't you put on your gi, and I'll put on mine?" She produced hers from her tote bag. "Is there a place for me to change?"
"Right where you are is fine."
"I'm sure it would be, but I'd rather you didn't get distracted. Mental discipline,
remember? Now, I thought it would be good for us to review Karthene forms,
specifically the third, Prolonged Siege."
Prolonged Siege. How apropos.
* * *
"Bruce?"
He opened his eyes, and was startled to see the red glow of J'onn's eyes piercing the chamber's total darkness.
Squeezing his lids shut, hoping somehow to avoid Tears-induced infatuation, Bruce turned his head. "Leave. Now."
"Your therapy has been unsuccessful. It's time to try a different approach."
In an eyeblink, Bruce was free of the cocoon and, he realized, in the middle of a much larger and more comfortable bed than he had slept on in some time. He reached behind him until he could touch the headboard, then recognized its intricate carving.
He wondered how he was going to tell J'onn that, rumors aside, he really didn't swing that way, and that at least on this planet, laws prohibited sexual contact between therapists and clients. Okay, he's a shapeshifter, but still…
He heard J'onn's voice again, sounding as though it were from across the room. "On Earth, psychologists call this technique 'flooding.'"
"I don't think Alfred would appreciate having to clean up water damage," he said, but the Martian was already vanishing.
"That's not what he meant, lover," Bruce heard Diana say.
How did she get here? He heard her footsteps grow closer, then felt the mattress give ever so slightly as she sat down next to him.
"Water won't be involved," she murmured, as she ran her hand down his chest. "Unless you want it to be. Don't you have a Jacuzzi big enough for two?"
"Or three," Zatanna breathed, adding her weight to the bed. "But let's not speculate. Why don't I make it bigger right now? Egralne securb izzucaj!" She settled on his other side and ran her fingers through his hair.
He couldn't deny a certain guilty pleasure at the thought of both of them in his bed - or his bathtub - but how the hell was he supposed to get over his anxieties, all the while avoiding eye contact with either of them! He tried to move, but his limbs seemed paralyzed.
"Cat got your tongue?" he heard Selina ask. "How about now?" He felt her mouth against his, her tongue parting his lips.
Circe's honeyed voice joined the chorus. "Bruce darling, I thought I'd give you another chance, for Odysseus's sake." He felt her hand stroke his inner thigh.
And then not a part of him remained untouched, and he wanted, and he yearned, and he felt the pressure building, and no one but him could hear Annika's screams in the dark, punctuated by a gunshot -
Bruce sat up quickly, nearly banging his head on the dresser next to his cot. His sheets were drenched with sweat.
He was alone with his thoughts.
And his fears.
* * *
"I've got the counterspell prepared. I'm sending in the blindfold now."
After sixteen days of confinement, Bruce had never heard more welcome words. Only Selina's periodic attempts to break into the Manor had allayed his boredom. Fortunately, his security measures and his protégés had ensured that she was unable to enter.
He pressed the button and the compartment opened. Pulling out the scarf, he tied it around his head.
"Ready?" Zatanna asked, sounding nervous.
"Let's do it." He felt the strange spinning sensation, heard the pop, and realized he was outside his cell.
She recited an incantation in a language he couldn't even begin to recognize. It didn't even sound like her usual backward English spells. If anything, it sounded like words that had been reversed, rearranged, and then spoken with a French accent.
"And... that's it. Okay, Bruce, you can take off the blindfold now."
He untied the knot and removed the scarf. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes.
Zatanna stood before him, looking concerned. The light from the Cave glinted off her hair and seemed to shine from her violet-blue eyes. Why hadn't he ever noticed before how beautiful, how radiant she was?
He smiled, enjoying the simple pleasure of gazing into her face. "Have I ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are?" Why did I just say that?
She rolled her eyes, chuckling. "Good one. Now, any dizziness or -"
"God, I could just listen to your voice forever." I can't believe I'm saying this. "I 'see your coral lips to move, and with your breath you do perfume the air'. I don't even deserve to breathe the same air you do."
Oh, no.
"Bruce? You're scaring me. And that's saying something, coming from you."
Seeing Zatanna's concern, he felt an almost overpowering urge to reassure her. "There's nothing to be frightened about, love. We're together. I don't have any plans. Would you like to bear my children?" Shut up! This is Zee, you nitwit!
Her eyes widened. "Diana's going to kill me."
"That's okay, darling," he heard himself say. "She'll kill me too. And then we'll be
together. Won't that be nice?" Despite his best efforts, he felt his smile widening to goofy proportions. I must look like a complete dork.
Zatanna stared at him for a while in apparent disbelief that swiftly turned to panic.
She backhanded him, saying "Snap out of it, dummy!"
He rubbed his cheek. "Honey, it's all right with me if you want to play rough." God! Four months of this…
Zatanna put a hand to her ear. "Zatanna to Wonder Woman. Um, Diana…there's been a…small problem. No, no, no, he's all right, it's just…calm down, Diana…thespelldidn'tworkandhelookedatme."
Zatanna winced, apparently at the volume of the reply. "Well, we thought it would work, but…you said you couldn't be here! Yes, I know the space station falling out of orbit was important! Diana, it's not like I did this on purpose!" She winced again, and Bruce felt indignant on her behalf.
"All right. Yes, you can come by - wait, let me check with Lover Boy here - that's a joke, Diana!"
She glanced at Bruce. "Diana wants to stop by and see you. Is that all right?"
He heard himself reply, "As long as she doesn't take too much time away from you, sweetie. Hang on a second." He went over to the desk and grabbed a small notepad and a pen. Sitting on the edge of the desk, he wrote:
Spell partly successful
Speech and emotion affected, but not ability to reason.
Motor skills mostly under my control.
Fix it. NOW!
He walked back to her and held up the notepad. "Here you go, honeybun. Do read it."
Zatanna grimaced. "What is it? A love poem?"
He noted that even her grimace didn't diminish her beauty. "Please read it,
snugglebunny."
Zatanna hit her forehead with her palm. "Great. A lovesick Batman - who probably writes bad poetry. Could this day get any worse?"
Bruce pouted.
"All right, all right - and quit the pouting, will you? I don't think your facial
muscles can take it." She took the notepad. Her eyebrows rose.
"Diana? You still there? Okay, it's just gotten even weirder…I'm not sure I can even describe what he's like…Yeah, come on by. Just don't kill me, all right?"
She turned back to Bruce. "She's coming over. I'd start looking for something larger to write on, if I were you. You're going to have a lot of explaining to do."
I'm not the only one who needs to explain. But he couldn’t imagine disobeying the woman who was the center of his universe, and immediately started rummaging through his desk drawers. This is creepy. It's like the lasso.
Locating a legal pad, he held it up. "Is this what you wanted, lover? And afterwards, can't we make sweet love in the moonlight?" How did Mila put up with this crap?
Zatanna shook her head slowly and sighed. "Okay, now my day's worse. Elbuod natilopomsoc raeppa."
He watched as she drained the glass in a couple of swallows, and then pressed the intercom button. "Alfred?"
"Yes, Miss Zatara?"
"What excuse has Wayne Enterprises been giving the media to explain Bruce's absence?"
"A rather virulent strain of Asiatic flu. But I've hinted to them that his recovery is coming along nicely."
"You'd better tell them he's just suffered a relapse."
* * *
"Master Bruce, Miss Diana is here to see you."
Bruce tore his gaze away from Zatanna and saw Diana at the top of the stairs to the Cave.
"I think I'll leave you two alone for a moment," Zatanna said, as she headed for the stairs.
"But sweetheart? I'll miss you." He sighed. "Hurry back."
I hope Diana's calmed down since she spoke to Zee.
As Diana came closer, Bruce could see the expression on her face - worried, saddened, and angry. He handed her the note he'd written, which explained the situation.
She read it, her brow creasing. "That's what Zatanna said, all right." Then she looked up, and Bruce saw her eyes flash. "Answer me one thing: did she do this on purpose?"
"Diana! How could you say such a thing? She's the most wonderful woman in the world. I'm so lucky." He wanted to fight for Zatanna's honor, but instead grabbed his legal pad and started to write:
No, she didn't. Trust me.
She feels awful about this.
Diana took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I believe you both. What's she going to do about it? You can't stay like this for four months!"
Bruce heard himself sighing happily, imagining four months with the love of his life.
Tell me about it, he wrote. Do you have any ideas?
She thought for a moment. "I'd start by avoiding daytime talk shows for the time being."
Although he realized that he wouldn't mind telling the world how he felt about Zatanna, he managed to scribble, Don't compare me to that Cruise idiot.
Turning away from him, Diana started to pace. "I can't believe that Aphrodite had this result in mind when she felt sorry for Mila."
Bruce tried to remain silent, knowing that saying anything at all wouldn't help matters.
"I mean," she said, walking back in his direction, "Aphrodite is playful, even capricious, but she's not cruel. And what's happening to you is nothing but cruel, Bruce." She held up her wrists and showed him her bracelets. "No one deserves to be a slave, not even of love. I won't let this happen!"
What's your solution? he wrote.
She sighed in frustration. "I don't know. Callina said the potion was nigh on impossible to counteract. Most potions of this kind access a god's power indirectly - the ingredients act as a kind of antenna for the god's power, or rather for the portion of the god's power which is manifest in our plane."
"Zatanna explained it better," Bruce said. "She's so smart." Then he scribbled frantically and showed Diana the pad:
Just ignore me. I can't help it.
"I know you can't." Diana looked thoughtful. "But maybe we can turn this to our advantage."
"How?" He glanced around forlornly. "Where did Zee-Zee go? I miss her."
"I'm going to need a few supplies."
Like what? he wrote.
"Firewood, wine, herbs, flowers, a young lamb…"
Picnic or sacrifice? he wrote.
"In your current state, a romantic meal outside is out of the question."