Fic: Under the Radar (Crossover: Batman/Daredevil)
Fandom: Batman/Daredevil Crossover
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson
Words: 2272
Summary: When Bruce Wayne finds himself in a bit of legal trouble in New York, he discovers that good attorneys are easy to find, but hard to keep in the dark-even when they're blind!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Drama
Warnings: None
Timeline: Daredevil near the end of Volume 1. Batman post-Knightsend, pre-No Man's Land.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Thanks to Kathy and Debbie for the beta!
Chapter 2
Matt straightened his tie and did his best to appear apologetic. "You aren't an easy person to track down, Mr. Wayne," he said. "I... was under some undue pressure yesterday and I think that might have colored my behavior at our meeting. I believe I owe you an apology." He smiled diffidently. "May I come in?"
Bruce regarded the other man for a moment. One eyebrow shot up, but he moved aside and opened the door wider. He took a moment to introduce Dick, wondering briefly when Murdock's smile broadened.
"If you turn around, there's a desk chair at two o'clock five or six steps away," Bruce offered. "Let me understand this," he said as he sat down on his bed. "You no longer think I was lying to you?"
Matt shook his head. "No, I know you were. I may have jumped to conclusions about how relevant your less-than-full disclosure might be to your case." He hesitated for effect. "In point of fact, I've been reliably informed that Baron and Baron had an unexpected visitor or two last night." He fought not to smile. Wayne was good at keeping his reactions in check. Had Matt not been observing him closely, he might well have overlooked the slight spike in his heart rate. He made a mental note to warn Clint Barton never to play poker with this man.
"Oh?" Bruce said, sounding only vaguely interested.
Matt nodded. "To be frank, when a potential client is less than straight with me, under most circumstances, I turn them down."
"Most circumstances," Bruce repeated.
"I do a fair amount of pro bono work," Matt said, "often with clients who feel they have no reason to trust the justice system and thus, no reason to cooperate with it. Obviously, you don't fit that category."
"Then...?"
Matt took a deep breath. "Daredevil vouches for you. He had his own reasons for checking out the crime scene and I've become aware that he's uncovered a few details that shed a new light on your situation."
Bruce's eyebrow shot up again. "Did he, now?" he asked. "Might I ask what?"
"I'd prefer to discuss it in more businesslike surroundings," Matt said smoothly. "Shall we say in my office? Around noon?"
There was that heart rate jump again, though there was no hint of undue concern in the other man's voice. "I believe I do have time at that hour," he replied. "I'll meet you there, then."
Once Murdock had left, Bruce turned to Dick. "You didn't tell me you knew him," he said.
Dick blinked. "I don't."
"Are you sure?" Bruce asked, frowning.
"Sure, I'm sure," Dick said. "Why?"
Bruce frowned. "Because when he came in, I got the feeling that he recognized you..."
Sometimes, Matt thought that the Fantastic Four had the right idea when it came to secret identities: forget the 'secret' part of it. He'd been ready to tell Wayne that he'd figured out exactly who he'd been fighting with last night and he had a pretty good idea as to why. Oh, he didn't know the particulars, of course, but clearly there was something shady going on at Baron and Baron and Wayne had been looking into it. Perhaps, Wayne had believed that it would be easier to investigate in his civilian identity; perhaps, there was some other explanation, but something had gone wrong and his presence had been detected, so he'd gone back after hours as Batman.
Under the circumstances, he would have had no problem coming clean to Wayne about his own costumed identity. The problem was, Wayne hadn't been alone in his hotel room.
Matt couldn't say that he knew Nightwing; it was more accurate to say that he knew of him-as leader of the Teen Titans. He had first encountered that team several years earlier, after his move back from San Francisco. They'd been operating in New York for a bit before that, but the team of super-powered youths tended to deal with situations more serious than the street-level threats that were his specialty. Still, on his return to New York he'd done his best to catch up on what the other Costumes had been up to.
At the time, the news reports had been buzzing about Nightwing having replaced Robin as leader of the Teen Titans, while Robin seemed to have relocated back to Gotham. The name had meant nothing to Matt and he'd had a few concerns about a neophyte hero possibly getting in over his head. So, one night, he'd observed the team in action and discovered that, whoever else this Nightwing might be, he definitely knew what he was doing. After that, Daredevil had left them to their devices and gone about his own business. And if, occasionally, they encountered one another, things never went further than a friendly wave or other casual greeting. Still, he'd swung by Nightwing enough to note his distinctive heartbeat in passing.
He'd recognized it in the hotel room just now. And while Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson obviously knew each other, and Batman and Nightwing often worked together, Bruce Wayne might not necessarily know that Dick Grayson was Nightwing, or vice versa. At first glance, the odds were remote, but then again, there was a reason why they called them 'secret identities'. He and Spider-Man had known each other for years before they'd learned each other's identities and he still didn't know a number of the Avengers in civilian life. Maybe the odds weren't that remote.
In any event, even if Matt hadn't officially taken Wayne's case yet, he was still going to apply attorney-client privilege and not discuss sensitive information in front of a third party, unless Wayne gave his direct consent. Hence, the noon meeting at his office.
Matt smiled. Foggy would be pleased about that, at least.
He stopped at Dean & DeLuca on his way back to the office and picked up a selection of teas and coffees. Wayne would probably expect the best and Matt was always glad of an excuse to indulge his passion for gourmet.
"Am I catching you at a good time?" Barbara asked when Bruce answered his cell.
Bruce checked his watch. Manhattan traffic could be dicey, but something in him rebelled against taking the subway when he wasn't in disguise. He wished that Alfred could have come with him this time-the butler had a talent for navigating city streets that was, perhaps, matched only by the most reckless of cabbies-but Tim was looking after Gotham by himself in Batman's absence, and the newest Robin was still a bit wet behind the ears. Bruce might have wanted Alfred to come to New York, but Tim needed him in Gotham. "I have a few minutes," he said, knowing that he would have to call for a taxi soon, if he was to make it to Nelson and Murdock on time. "What have you found out?"
"Well," Barbara said, "your hunch was right. Lewis Baron, grandson of the CEO and currently AVP Customer Support, could be your guy. You've probably heard of him; he was considered a strong candidate for the US Olympic men's gymnastics team a few years back, but missed qualifying by a tenth of a point. Had a similar problem qualifying for the Pan Am Games, too. He's a bit on the short side, mind you, but there are ways around that."
Bruce nodded thoughtfully. "So he's known in athletic circles, but stays just enough under the radar not to be considered a top athlete."
"That's right. He officially retired from competitions a couple of years ago, when he was twenty-six and decided to devote himself to his family business fulltime. The media barely noticed. However, he does have skills. And smarts; he did a double degree Business Administration and Computing. He's twenty-eight, now; still young enough to be in this game."
"This is hardly a game," Bruce countered absently. He tried to place the name among the executives he'd met a day earlier, but couldn't. That didn't necessarily mean anything; an AVP Customer Support was no top-level executive. "Do you have a photo?"
"Sending," Oracle replied crisply.
"See what you can find out about how frequently Daredevil has been spotted in or around Baron and Baron," Bruce sighed. It wouldn't prove anything. His own patrols covered all of Gotham and, while he did, in fact, often gravitate toward the Old City Hall district, it wasn't because of Wayne Enterprises. GCPD headquarters was there, too. Still, if Baron and Baron enjoyed regular visits from a 'guardian devil', it would be one more thing to file away pending further evidence.
"Will do, Boss-man." She sounded a bit distracted. "Sorry, Bruce. JSA call coming in on a priority channel. Can I let you go?"
"Of course," Bruce replied. "I'll phone after I've reviewed the data." He ended the call.
Bruce studied the photos and the accompanying statistics carefully. Daredevil had been moving about too much for Bruce to get a fix on his height, last night. He guessed him to be in the neighborhood of six feet, though, perhaps five-eleven. Baron was five-eight; tall for a gymnast, but Barbara was right: he was probably a bit short for Daredevil. Probably. The office had been dark, Bruce had been off his game, and his vision had been affected by Daredevil's trick with the lights.
Still... No, he decided. Unless Lewis Baron wore some sort of lifts in his boots to give him additional height, he was not the man that Bruce had fought last night. And while lifts could easily add an inch or two, four inches would be far more noticeable. Bruce had learned that very little was truly impossible, but it occurred to him that he might be trying a bit too hard to make a square peg fit a round hole. He wasn't yet ready to eliminate Lewis Baron as a possible Daredevil candidate, but he was downgrading him.
He called Barbara back. "After reviewing the data," he said, "I believe we should keep looking. Narrow the search to candidates ranging from five-eleven to six-one and..." he reflected for a moment, "...one-ninety-five to two-oh-five pounds."
He ended the call on her acknowledgment. Then he picked up the room phone and made another call. This one was to the front desk-to order a cab.
In Murdock's office, Bruce declined the offer of coffee. "I have to admit," he said, "I'm a bit puzzled by your change of heart. When we spoke yesterday, you were extremely clear on where you stood."
Murdock nodded. "That was before I realized that there was more going on than what there seemed to be at first glance," he said.
Bruce frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."
"I'm not sure I do myself," Murdock admitted. "However, since then, I've learned that both Daredevil and Batman were spotted at Baron and Baron last night. It would appear that if, as you claim, you're an innocent bystander in all of this, you've gotten yourself involved in something a bit more serious than it appeared on the surface. I only know Batman by reputation, but that reputation tells me I wouldn't want to be on his bad side. I know Daredevil somewhat better-we have something of a working relationship. That is to say, I know him well enough to know that you don't want to cross him either. If you're on both of their radars, Mr. Wayne, you are in some serious trouble. I can help you," he added, "but I'll need to know everything you can tell me about how things got to this point. If you've been operating under some kind of duress," Bruce got the impression that Murdock was fighting not to laugh, "and that's the reason that you couldn't be straight with me, I'll need to know that too."
"And if I were to tell you," Bruce said slowly, keeping his amusement out of his own voice and trying to sound dismayed, "that I'd love to tell you what you want to hear, but unfortunately, I can't?"
Murdock was still smiling. "Then odds are that you've got enough on your plate already without adding in the need to secure legal representation. I'll take your case." He extended his hand toward across the desk. Bruce shook it.
"Right," Murdock said, "I'll have my administrative assistant draw up the papers and we can get to work." He got up from behind his desk, rising to his full height. "If you'll accompany me...?"
As Bruce got up, his eyes narrowed. It occurred to him that Murdock stood about six feet tall. And as he came around to get the door, Bruce noted a looseness to his stride that one generally saw only in trained martial artists. It was then that he realized why Daredevil's voice had been familiar to him last night.
"Mr. Murdock," he said slowly, "there is one thing that you should know. Batman is not investigating my involvement. You see, he and I have... something of a working relationship."
"Ah," Murdock said, "so a bit like mine with Daredevil."
"Actually," Bruce replied, "I'd say it's exactly like yours with Daredevil."
Murdock smiled. "Now that we've got that out of the way, once you've filled out the paperwork, I think we'll need to sit back down and compare notes. I know this city a bit better than you do-and I don't just mean geographically. Tell me, Mr. Wayne," he paused, one hand on his cane, the other on the doorknob, "how much do you know about a man named Wilson Fisk?"
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonbat2006.dreamwidth.org/37688.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson
Words: 2272
Summary: When Bruce Wayne finds himself in a bit of legal trouble in New York, he discovers that good attorneys are easy to find, but hard to keep in the dark-even when they're blind!
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crossover, Drama
Warnings: None
Timeline: Daredevil near the end of Volume 1. Batman post-Knightsend, pre-No Man's Land.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Thanks to Kathy and Debbie for the beta!
Chapter 2
Matt straightened his tie and did his best to appear apologetic. "You aren't an easy person to track down, Mr. Wayne," he said. "I... was under some undue pressure yesterday and I think that might have colored my behavior at our meeting. I believe I owe you an apology." He smiled diffidently. "May I come in?"
Bruce regarded the other man for a moment. One eyebrow shot up, but he moved aside and opened the door wider. He took a moment to introduce Dick, wondering briefly when Murdock's smile broadened.
"If you turn around, there's a desk chair at two o'clock five or six steps away," Bruce offered. "Let me understand this," he said as he sat down on his bed. "You no longer think I was lying to you?"
Matt shook his head. "No, I know you were. I may have jumped to conclusions about how relevant your less-than-full disclosure might be to your case." He hesitated for effect. "In point of fact, I've been reliably informed that Baron and Baron had an unexpected visitor or two last night." He fought not to smile. Wayne was good at keeping his reactions in check. Had Matt not been observing him closely, he might well have overlooked the slight spike in his heart rate. He made a mental note to warn Clint Barton never to play poker with this man.
"Oh?" Bruce said, sounding only vaguely interested.
Matt nodded. "To be frank, when a potential client is less than straight with me, under most circumstances, I turn them down."
"Most circumstances," Bruce repeated.
"I do a fair amount of pro bono work," Matt said, "often with clients who feel they have no reason to trust the justice system and thus, no reason to cooperate with it. Obviously, you don't fit that category."
"Then...?"
Matt took a deep breath. "Daredevil vouches for you. He had his own reasons for checking out the crime scene and I've become aware that he's uncovered a few details that shed a new light on your situation."
Bruce's eyebrow shot up again. "Did he, now?" he asked. "Might I ask what?"
"I'd prefer to discuss it in more businesslike surroundings," Matt said smoothly. "Shall we say in my office? Around noon?"
There was that heart rate jump again, though there was no hint of undue concern in the other man's voice. "I believe I do have time at that hour," he replied. "I'll meet you there, then."
Once Murdock had left, Bruce turned to Dick. "You didn't tell me you knew him," he said.
Dick blinked. "I don't."
"Are you sure?" Bruce asked, frowning.
"Sure, I'm sure," Dick said. "Why?"
Bruce frowned. "Because when he came in, I got the feeling that he recognized you..."
Sometimes, Matt thought that the Fantastic Four had the right idea when it came to secret identities: forget the 'secret' part of it. He'd been ready to tell Wayne that he'd figured out exactly who he'd been fighting with last night and he had a pretty good idea as to why. Oh, he didn't know the particulars, of course, but clearly there was something shady going on at Baron and Baron and Wayne had been looking into it. Perhaps, Wayne had believed that it would be easier to investigate in his civilian identity; perhaps, there was some other explanation, but something had gone wrong and his presence had been detected, so he'd gone back after hours as Batman.
Under the circumstances, he would have had no problem coming clean to Wayne about his own costumed identity. The problem was, Wayne hadn't been alone in his hotel room.
Matt couldn't say that he knew Nightwing; it was more accurate to say that he knew of him-as leader of the Teen Titans. He had first encountered that team several years earlier, after his move back from San Francisco. They'd been operating in New York for a bit before that, but the team of super-powered youths tended to deal with situations more serious than the street-level threats that were his specialty. Still, on his return to New York he'd done his best to catch up on what the other Costumes had been up to.
At the time, the news reports had been buzzing about Nightwing having replaced Robin as leader of the Teen Titans, while Robin seemed to have relocated back to Gotham. The name had meant nothing to Matt and he'd had a few concerns about a neophyte hero possibly getting in over his head. So, one night, he'd observed the team in action and discovered that, whoever else this Nightwing might be, he definitely knew what he was doing. After that, Daredevil had left them to their devices and gone about his own business. And if, occasionally, they encountered one another, things never went further than a friendly wave or other casual greeting. Still, he'd swung by Nightwing enough to note his distinctive heartbeat in passing.
He'd recognized it in the hotel room just now. And while Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson obviously knew each other, and Batman and Nightwing often worked together, Bruce Wayne might not necessarily know that Dick Grayson was Nightwing, or vice versa. At first glance, the odds were remote, but then again, there was a reason why they called them 'secret identities'. He and Spider-Man had known each other for years before they'd learned each other's identities and he still didn't know a number of the Avengers in civilian life. Maybe the odds weren't that remote.
In any event, even if Matt hadn't officially taken Wayne's case yet, he was still going to apply attorney-client privilege and not discuss sensitive information in front of a third party, unless Wayne gave his direct consent. Hence, the noon meeting at his office.
Matt smiled. Foggy would be pleased about that, at least.
He stopped at Dean & DeLuca on his way back to the office and picked up a selection of teas and coffees. Wayne would probably expect the best and Matt was always glad of an excuse to indulge his passion for gourmet.
"Am I catching you at a good time?" Barbara asked when Bruce answered his cell.
Bruce checked his watch. Manhattan traffic could be dicey, but something in him rebelled against taking the subway when he wasn't in disguise. He wished that Alfred could have come with him this time-the butler had a talent for navigating city streets that was, perhaps, matched only by the most reckless of cabbies-but Tim was looking after Gotham by himself in Batman's absence, and the newest Robin was still a bit wet behind the ears. Bruce might have wanted Alfred to come to New York, but Tim needed him in Gotham. "I have a few minutes," he said, knowing that he would have to call for a taxi soon, if he was to make it to Nelson and Murdock on time. "What have you found out?"
"Well," Barbara said, "your hunch was right. Lewis Baron, grandson of the CEO and currently AVP Customer Support, could be your guy. You've probably heard of him; he was considered a strong candidate for the US Olympic men's gymnastics team a few years back, but missed qualifying by a tenth of a point. Had a similar problem qualifying for the Pan Am Games, too. He's a bit on the short side, mind you, but there are ways around that."
Bruce nodded thoughtfully. "So he's known in athletic circles, but stays just enough under the radar not to be considered a top athlete."
"That's right. He officially retired from competitions a couple of years ago, when he was twenty-six and decided to devote himself to his family business fulltime. The media barely noticed. However, he does have skills. And smarts; he did a double degree Business Administration and Computing. He's twenty-eight, now; still young enough to be in this game."
"This is hardly a game," Bruce countered absently. He tried to place the name among the executives he'd met a day earlier, but couldn't. That didn't necessarily mean anything; an AVP Customer Support was no top-level executive. "Do you have a photo?"
"Sending," Oracle replied crisply.
"See what you can find out about how frequently Daredevil has been spotted in or around Baron and Baron," Bruce sighed. It wouldn't prove anything. His own patrols covered all of Gotham and, while he did, in fact, often gravitate toward the Old City Hall district, it wasn't because of Wayne Enterprises. GCPD headquarters was there, too. Still, if Baron and Baron enjoyed regular visits from a 'guardian devil', it would be one more thing to file away pending further evidence.
"Will do, Boss-man." She sounded a bit distracted. "Sorry, Bruce. JSA call coming in on a priority channel. Can I let you go?"
"Of course," Bruce replied. "I'll phone after I've reviewed the data." He ended the call.
Bruce studied the photos and the accompanying statistics carefully. Daredevil had been moving about too much for Bruce to get a fix on his height, last night. He guessed him to be in the neighborhood of six feet, though, perhaps five-eleven. Baron was five-eight; tall for a gymnast, but Barbara was right: he was probably a bit short for Daredevil. Probably. The office had been dark, Bruce had been off his game, and his vision had been affected by Daredevil's trick with the lights.
Still... No, he decided. Unless Lewis Baron wore some sort of lifts in his boots to give him additional height, he was not the man that Bruce had fought last night. And while lifts could easily add an inch or two, four inches would be far more noticeable. Bruce had learned that very little was truly impossible, but it occurred to him that he might be trying a bit too hard to make a square peg fit a round hole. He wasn't yet ready to eliminate Lewis Baron as a possible Daredevil candidate, but he was downgrading him.
He called Barbara back. "After reviewing the data," he said, "I believe we should keep looking. Narrow the search to candidates ranging from five-eleven to six-one and..." he reflected for a moment, "...one-ninety-five to two-oh-five pounds."
He ended the call on her acknowledgment. Then he picked up the room phone and made another call. This one was to the front desk-to order a cab.
In Murdock's office, Bruce declined the offer of coffee. "I have to admit," he said, "I'm a bit puzzled by your change of heart. When we spoke yesterday, you were extremely clear on where you stood."
Murdock nodded. "That was before I realized that there was more going on than what there seemed to be at first glance," he said.
Bruce frowned. "I'm not sure I understand."
"I'm not sure I do myself," Murdock admitted. "However, since then, I've learned that both Daredevil and Batman were spotted at Baron and Baron last night. It would appear that if, as you claim, you're an innocent bystander in all of this, you've gotten yourself involved in something a bit more serious than it appeared on the surface. I only know Batman by reputation, but that reputation tells me I wouldn't want to be on his bad side. I know Daredevil somewhat better-we have something of a working relationship. That is to say, I know him well enough to know that you don't want to cross him either. If you're on both of their radars, Mr. Wayne, you are in some serious trouble. I can help you," he added, "but I'll need to know everything you can tell me about how things got to this point. If you've been operating under some kind of duress," Bruce got the impression that Murdock was fighting not to laugh, "and that's the reason that you couldn't be straight with me, I'll need to know that too."
"And if I were to tell you," Bruce said slowly, keeping his amusement out of his own voice and trying to sound dismayed, "that I'd love to tell you what you want to hear, but unfortunately, I can't?"
Murdock was still smiling. "Then odds are that you've got enough on your plate already without adding in the need to secure legal representation. I'll take your case." He extended his hand toward across the desk. Bruce shook it.
"Right," Murdock said, "I'll have my administrative assistant draw up the papers and we can get to work." He got up from behind his desk, rising to his full height. "If you'll accompany me...?"
As Bruce got up, his eyes narrowed. It occurred to him that Murdock stood about six feet tall. And as he came around to get the door, Bruce noted a looseness to his stride that one generally saw only in trained martial artists. It was then that he realized why Daredevil's voice had been familiar to him last night.
"Mr. Murdock," he said slowly, "there is one thing that you should know. Batman is not investigating my involvement. You see, he and I have... something of a working relationship."
"Ah," Murdock said, "so a bit like mine with Daredevil."
"Actually," Bruce replied, "I'd say it's exactly like yours with Daredevil."
Murdock smiled. "Now that we've got that out of the way, once you've filled out the paperwork, I think we'll need to sit back down and compare notes. I know this city a bit better than you do-and I don't just mean geographically. Tell me, Mr. Wayne," he paused, one hand on his cane, the other on the doorknob, "how much do you know about a man named Wilson Fisk?"
This entry was originally posted at http://dragonbat2006.dreamwidth.org/37688.html. Please comment there using OpenID.