Fic: Every Contact Leaves Its Trace - Chapter One - Part One
EVERY CONTACT LEAVES ITS TRACE
Disclaimers: Usual disclaimers stand. Doesn't belong to me, really.
Fandom: The Dark Knight, Nolanverse. Bruce Wayne&OC (sort of, gender bender)
Summary: One vigilante, one accomplice, one killer, and one city trying to get better; a man of despair, a woman of many faces, a child of vengeance, and a city more like a necropolis; in other words-a hell of a lot of problems. Succintly put; welcome to Gotham.
Beta-read by Moonstruck Kitten
Chapter One: Part One
Cameron Reese was a good daughter, good lawyer, and even better employee. The youngest of four girls whose father dreamed of having a son, dutifully continuing his legacy and his family name, little Cameron had been raised as an obedient daughter who talked little and smiled even less. All her life had been laid out to her even before she had been born, since that faithful day at the doctor's office where her father had been informed yet again that his wife was expecting another baby girl.
There had been no surprises in Mr. Reese's life so he didn't see any reason why there should be any in his daughter's.
When Cameron graduated from Harvard with a degree in Law and Accounting, her father held her by shoulders and she was told that he was proud of her, yet the cloud over his eyes didn't go by unnoticed by anyone. Cameron, of course, knew what it meant, and her father knew she knew but they didn't talk about it. Discussing feelings wasn't appropriate in the Reese family.
When Cameron had told her father that she had been appointed to evaluate the books for Wayne Enterprises, her father smiled and told her he was proud, and she smiled back. But she's still not a son, he must have thought.
Thence, anyone who assumed Ms. Cameron Reese as a cold, calculating, stern woman who talked little and smiled even less could have assumed correctly, because everything about her matched their expectation. And everyone generally was ready to believe what they were seeing on the surface because believing in appearances was the easiest way to make life bearable, and also a one way ticket to being wrong.
It wasn't going as she had planned, and somehow she started to suspect it would only go downhill from there. The negotiations should have already finished by now and she should have been gone from Gotham, long ago; very quickly and very rich. Yet, there she was, in the middle of a board meeting, which she'd come to admit long ago, on a general principle were tedious, long, and dull occurrences.
The conservative suit disturbed her as much as the fake glasses but Cameron Reese could not simply wander around WayneBuilding in jeans or dresses. The Chinese suit of LSI was talking about something-opportunities and such, the words were meaningless and heavy with his strong accent. Her gaze flicked toward the man across the table and her hand beside her hip pulled into a fist. She full-out glared at Bruce Wayne. Yet her glare didn't seem to work because- God damn him to Hell and back- The Prince of Gotham kept snoring very loudly, completely unaware of it. This was stupid, she decided, entirely and completely stupid. She should have been gone long ago…
Admittedly the plan wasn't excellent to begin with but it was good enough. Find a company LSI Holdings (of which she knew things) was planning to join with, infiltrate it, find the books, find the bank accounts, and transfer an unremarkable amount of money (considering the vast resources of the said company) to an untraceable Swiss bank account and then get the hell out. Not exactly her preference and not exactly delicate but simple, and streamlined. Just the way she liked it. Only, she hadn't calculated in the Bruce Wayne factor. Being a spoiled rich Peter Pan who happened to be handed over an awful lot of money, she could understand that he didn't need to be attentive to mundane things like his company's business, but falling asleep-and snoring in a board meeting was entirely another thing.
Not that it was a particularly fascinating thing, of course, even she had had to pinch herself a few times to keep her attention where it belonged but still…Her glare returned back to his figure; his back leaned in the expensive leather chair in a posture only a large balance in bank accounts could achieve, his elegant features eased into a eased into a peaceful state, his broad chest moving up and down with his rhythmical breaths. She wondered briefly if he was faking it. Even she, of all of people, wasn't sure what could be accomplished with this kind of mockery but he was very, very rich and rich people were known to be eccentric. And she knew exactly what eccentric people could do to draw attention to themselves.
If it had been another time she wouldn't have minded (who was she to complain about fake personalities after all), sat back amused, and enjoyed the show, and made sure that it wasn't crossing any of her paths. But it wasn't certainly any other time, and he was definitely crossing her path.
She sighed inwardly. This corporate business con had proved itself more tiresome than she had expected and she was getting fed up with playing good girlie. She wished she was in her usual circle of friends where she could quite nicely smack some finer points of business into the heads.
But, she wasn't quite ready to call it quits yet either. She refused to throw in the towel just because of a rich boy, however ridiculously eccentric he might be. When the meeting came to an end; there was only a few things to be discussed when the supposed chairman kept snoring after all; she stood up and walked toward Wayne Enterprises' CEO Lucius Fox. Decisively, she held her ground before the man, one foot slightly before the other, arms tight at her sides.
"Mr. Fox-"She started, her tone appropriate for talking to a superior about the big boss and glanced back toward her problem as of late, "sir, I know Mr. Wayne is curious about how his trust fund gets replenished, but frankly, this is embarrassing."
Fox followed her gaze to said big boss, aka the fool of the town, and then looked back at her. She felt her stomach clench, her very being roaring in protest. Used to standing on the other side of proverbial line, she hated to get those kinds of stares, meant only to condescend. "You worry about diligence, Ms. Reese. I'll worry about Mr. Wayne."
She half-turned and closed her eyes. Count to ten…just think of all that beautiful money…Fortunately that was all the motivation she needed. She had spent months planning this con, on top of the six months enduring the mundane nine-to-six office life, and boring work gossip. No, she had come here for a reason and she wasn't going back with empty hands. Light seeped through the shades over the long narrow windows twinkling over her eyes as they fluttered open. She turned back to face Mr. Fox, and with all the reticence she could gather she muttered. "The numbers are solid."
Again a condescending stare, this time accompanied with a smile as well. "Do them again," he turned to leave, "wouldn't want the trust fund to run out now, would we?"
She glared at his retreating back and sniffed. It had better be worth it.
She did the numbers again. She couldn't know why; when she thought she was sure about something, she tended to be right about it hence the numbers were solid, much like the first time. Then she did something else. She couldn't know what urged her to do it, something almost primal, as much as irresistible. If she were lucky enough, she might find something against Fox for leverage, then it would be her turn to throw condescending stares around. So she did the numbers again but didn't stop there and searched Wayne Enterprises' other funds as well. Then she caught something.
It was easy to assume it as a small glitch, easy to overlook but to her it stood out like a red flag, blinking at her through the slender computer screen. She decided to dive deeper, to search for other such anomalies but to do that, it was necessary to break into the files she didn't have authorization to see, and that thought was enough distraction to put her off out of her case.
Not with haste, she warned herself. Delicate situations require careful planning. With the proper tools and time she could hack into their systems. It wouldn't be easy but she could pull it off and ifit proved too much a nut to crack for her she could easily hire Jeremy for another job. She wasn't really a fan of team jobs, too many problems to take care of, but Jeremy had proven himself to be a good partner on several different occasions, and he was an even better hacker. He was solid, unemotional on many different, interesting levels, and always down to business. It would be a child's play from him to find his way in.
But was it necessary? No, not really. She was there with a goal, as impossible as it seemed, and she had enough problems already; there was no real reason to chase after ghosts. There likely wasn't any profit to be gained except putting Fox in his place. But that, she had to admit, would be enough pay off at the end.
You shouldn't get personal and childish, chided half of her mind while the other started to list necessary precautions…An untraceable laptop is a must…no, stop, she ordered herself, pondering it from other angles. There must be other ways to get back at Fox without risking her cover identity. No man with his status could have risen up to where he stood with clean hands.
With that thought in mind, she started to check his background. His ascension to power, fall and re-ascension was a curious case and had been the favorite subject of Wayne Enterprises' grapevine for almost a year. Suddenly it hit her, hit her hard. Straightening her back, she checked the dates. They corresponded. The glitch was the same day as Fox's legendary return from his exile in the basement. The day Fox's former department had merged with Archives; the same day Bruce Wayne had regained his throne from the clutches of William Earle. A definite hostile takeover, but downright illegal too?
She smiled. It seemed so.
She stood up and headed for the elevator to descend into basement. There was something, something in there, she was sure of it. And when the woman known as Cameron Reese at that point of her life was sure about something she also tended to be right about it.
That night, in her overcrowded, tiny flat, she went over her options. Jason had warned her several times about greed. You must have control over your greed before it starts controlling you, she could almost hear his voice in her mind.
"People say because of our profession we are greedy," he had said, his cigarette hanging at the corner of his lips out of habit, unlit. He couldn't be counted as a good father according to any social principles but at least in his particular ways he had been trying. "to some extent, I must admit, doll, it's true, but I discovered some time ago the easiest way for a first class ticket behind the bars is greed exceeding one's abilities." He had fixed a mocking finger at her, "Know thyself."
When she had seen the designs of that thing that occupiedthe news every night, jumping from roof to roof, pancaking police cars, she had laughed. The merry sound had ripped through the abrasive silence of Archives, and despite it she laughed again.
How delightfully unexpected, how very-interesting.
When the first shock of the unbelievable discovery wore off, she had pondered what to do. Making sacrifices wasn't a foreign notion to her. Life had taught her that point very successfully. If you chose to become a drafter and thief as a profession, you were bound to forsake some things in favor of others. Or else you wouldn't last long in the game.
The con she was trying to pull against LSI Holdings wasn't her best, but then again it wasn't required to be. She was more than a little sure LSI's income's had been gained in not quite legal ways; it wasn't very likely they would call a full investigation. They would surely want to deal with it themselves, and she had been very careful not to leave any traces that would lead them to her. She had no partners to worry about, and had worked hard to make Cameron Reese's background impeccable. Truthfully though, more than anything she had been trusting that LSI wouldn't want to gets its hands dirty over a couple thousand dollars when they had the opportunity to make billions.
A couple thousand dollars wasn't bad, but on the other hand, the secret she had unburied must be worth millions. And then there was this urge, this stupid compulsive need to get people to acknowledge her, make them amazed, and bring them to appreciate her skills. You have fooled everyone, but not me. You are good but I am better.
Greed and pride… Who could resist their call? For that she chose to blame the frailty of humanity. And truthfully, if even the great Morningstar could fall, who was lil' ol' her not to follow anyway?
When she went to see Fox in his office the following morning she was dressed how Cameron Reese would dress on such an occasion. It was Ms. Reese who had come through the massive main entrance six months ago and it was trivial Ms. Reese that would leave it, in whatever way that might be. Because if there was one thing she was really good at, it was surviving, and that included not ever comprising her identity.
Dressing in the way she would have preferred wouldn't do. Cameron Reese had a style and upbringing very different from her true self. Even to blackmail, she would go stylish. But then again, a relief in persona must be allowed; hence she wore a simple white shirt and dark, flowing high waist pants instead of the conventional suits. She put her glasses on but instead of a professional tight bun, she let the dirty blonde hair hang loose down her shoulders in waves. She put faint yet bright toned eye shadow on, going with her light green eyes, and the favorite light peach lipstick was gone, but she did go with the darkest pink, something closest to the red that Ms. Reese could wear. Yes, that should do it.
Even though he did notice the difference in her attitude, as he must have done, it was hard to overlook, he didn't show it. She sat back, and crossed her legs in a way Cameron Reese would never do under normal circumstances, mostly to worry him.
Though her attempt to trouble him seemed to fail because Fox didn't even bother to lift his head to look up at her from the reports he was reading. "What can I do for you, Ms. Reese?"
She surpassed her urge to grit her teeth, and replied with a sweet tone. "You wanted me to do due diligence on the LSI Holdings deal again," she paused a little. "I found some irregularities."
He finally lifted his head up and…that stupid smile again. "Their CEO is in the police custody."
She threw at him the most fictitious smile she could handle and looked directly into his eyes. "Not with their numbers, with yours. Applied Sciences," she flashed another mocking smile; lips not parted and leaned forward. "Whole division of Wayne Enterprises just disappeared overnight…I went down to Archives and started pulling some old files." Leaning back again, she looked at him smugly. "It is amazing what one could find through that mess." She stopped to wait for an answer. When he didn't talk, she continued. "Don't tell me you didn't recognize your baby out there, pancaking cop cars on the evening news. Now you got the entire R&D Department burning through cash claiming it's related to cell phones for the Army? What are you building for him now, a rocket ship?"
At that point she had to admit her mouth overran her brain. The slip of Cameron's persona was visible-she had waited so long to gloat-but luckily he didn't seem to be aware of it. He kept looking at her, and defiantly she held his stare. "Ms. Reese..." He leaned forward. "What do you want?"
"I want…" She paused as if to really consider it then pursed her lips. "I've never been a greedy person, Mr. Fox. I want-say…a million dollars a year for the rest of my life."
Surprised, he straightened back, and smiled. "Let me get this straight. You think that your client, one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the world, is secretly a vigilante…" What? Could it be that she heard him wrong? "...who spends his nights beating criminals to a pulp with his bare hands…"She blinked once,then twice,"…and your plan is to blackmail this person?" Satisfied with her lack of response and frozen stupor, he leaned back and smiled yet again down at her. "Well, good luck."
She knew that a good fighter should know when to retreat, and analyze the situation to strike back again. She stood up, and turned to leave. "Keep that as well," Fox called after her, and she pivoted her body to see him pointing at the plans with his head.
"I already have copies," she said through her teeth.
How had she missed it, how had she let appearances fool her to the point where she didn't have any good excuses for her failure was beyond her. But dammit, it had seemed logical. Definitely more logical than believing Bruce Wayne to personally be that rodent man instead of just banking and backing him up. But, then again, everything really had started with Wayne's coming back from the dead, from his long absence doing only-God-knew what. A young man, merely a teenager who had disappeared off the face of earth the very day his parent's killer had been gunned down by the mob at the courthouse in which he had been set free. How could she have missed such a thing? She glared at the ceiling.
No, she hadn't missed that part. It was understandable to assume that Bruce Wayne's support for the vigilante was for that particular reason. And Bruce Wayne was the most self-absorbed, self- involved person she had known and that was saying a lot, because in her life she knew a good number of people that were very self-absorbed. How one could assume him to be that thing, a vigilante. It hadn't been logical.
That night in her home, she thought about him at great length. She remembered her doubts about his mannerisms, the times she had thought he was faking it. Some things only made sense only in retrospect, she thought grudgingly, gazing at her ceiling. But stressing over it didn't help anything; especially with Fox thinking she had known the truth. And truth to be told, what would have changed if she had known the secret? She still would have threatened him.
Like other of time of crisis, she consulted her best friend: she set the short round glass in front her on the coffee table and sat cross-legged to pour a handsome amount of liquid into it. There should still be something she could do with that information.
Would blackmailing Fox and Bruce Wayne for being a vigilante's accomplices been less dangerous than blackmailing the said vigilante directly? No. No, it wouldn't have. Would Fox tell him what she had tried...he would, certainly. Then what would Batman do to her? Threaten her, for starters, she was sure. She was also sure he couldn't harm her in a deathly way, maybe a few bruises and such but not further. He had rules, everyone knew it. She had tried to blackmail him, yes, but as much as he knew she was an opportunistic young woman who was out of her depths. Apart from an attempt for blackmail, Cameron Reese wasn't a criminal, not that she thought herself one. Moral laws, social norms and semantics to be damned for all she cared.
After second glass of scotch, she had categorized the situation as 'not that bad'. After the third she was truly convinced he couldn't harm her fatally. And at the fourth she started to consider there might be a way to get out of this mess, while still making money.
The following night, on T.V she saw Harvey Dent declare himself as Batman.
Disclaimers: Usual disclaimers stand. Doesn't belong to me, really.
Fandom: The Dark Knight, Nolanverse. Bruce Wayne&OC (sort of, gender bender)
Summary: One vigilante, one accomplice, one killer, and one city trying to get better; a man of despair, a woman of many faces, a child of vengeance, and a city more like a necropolis; in other words-a hell of a lot of problems. Succintly put; welcome to Gotham.
Beta-read by Moonstruck Kitten
Chapter One: Part One
Cameron Reese was a good daughter, good lawyer, and even better employee. The youngest of four girls whose father dreamed of having a son, dutifully continuing his legacy and his family name, little Cameron had been raised as an obedient daughter who talked little and smiled even less. All her life had been laid out to her even before she had been born, since that faithful day at the doctor's office where her father had been informed yet again that his wife was expecting another baby girl.
There had been no surprises in Mr. Reese's life so he didn't see any reason why there should be any in his daughter's.
When Cameron graduated from Harvard with a degree in Law and Accounting, her father held her by shoulders and she was told that he was proud of her, yet the cloud over his eyes didn't go by unnoticed by anyone. Cameron, of course, knew what it meant, and her father knew she knew but they didn't talk about it. Discussing feelings wasn't appropriate in the Reese family.
When Cameron had told her father that she had been appointed to evaluate the books for Wayne Enterprises, her father smiled and told her he was proud, and she smiled back. But she's still not a son, he must have thought.
Thence, anyone who assumed Ms. Cameron Reese as a cold, calculating, stern woman who talked little and smiled even less could have assumed correctly, because everything about her matched their expectation. And everyone generally was ready to believe what they were seeing on the surface because believing in appearances was the easiest way to make life bearable, and also a one way ticket to being wrong.
It wasn't going as she had planned, and somehow she started to suspect it would only go downhill from there. The negotiations should have already finished by now and she should have been gone from Gotham, long ago; very quickly and very rich. Yet, there she was, in the middle of a board meeting, which she'd come to admit long ago, on a general principle were tedious, long, and dull occurrences.
The conservative suit disturbed her as much as the fake glasses but Cameron Reese could not simply wander around WayneBuilding in jeans or dresses. The Chinese suit of LSI was talking about something-opportunities and such, the words were meaningless and heavy with his strong accent. Her gaze flicked toward the man across the table and her hand beside her hip pulled into a fist. She full-out glared at Bruce Wayne. Yet her glare didn't seem to work because- God damn him to Hell and back- The Prince of Gotham kept snoring very loudly, completely unaware of it. This was stupid, she decided, entirely and completely stupid. She should have been gone long ago…
Admittedly the plan wasn't excellent to begin with but it was good enough. Find a company LSI Holdings (of which she knew things) was planning to join with, infiltrate it, find the books, find the bank accounts, and transfer an unremarkable amount of money (considering the vast resources of the said company) to an untraceable Swiss bank account and then get the hell out. Not exactly her preference and not exactly delicate but simple, and streamlined. Just the way she liked it. Only, she hadn't calculated in the Bruce Wayne factor. Being a spoiled rich Peter Pan who happened to be handed over an awful lot of money, she could understand that he didn't need to be attentive to mundane things like his company's business, but falling asleep-and snoring in a board meeting was entirely another thing.
Not that it was a particularly fascinating thing, of course, even she had had to pinch herself a few times to keep her attention where it belonged but still…Her glare returned back to his figure; his back leaned in the expensive leather chair in a posture only a large balance in bank accounts could achieve, his elegant features eased into a eased into a peaceful state, his broad chest moving up and down with his rhythmical breaths. She wondered briefly if he was faking it. Even she, of all of people, wasn't sure what could be accomplished with this kind of mockery but he was very, very rich and rich people were known to be eccentric. And she knew exactly what eccentric people could do to draw attention to themselves.
If it had been another time she wouldn't have minded (who was she to complain about fake personalities after all), sat back amused, and enjoyed the show, and made sure that it wasn't crossing any of her paths. But it wasn't certainly any other time, and he was definitely crossing her path.
She sighed inwardly. This corporate business con had proved itself more tiresome than she had expected and she was getting fed up with playing good girlie. She wished she was in her usual circle of friends where she could quite nicely smack some finer points of business into the heads.
But, she wasn't quite ready to call it quits yet either. She refused to throw in the towel just because of a rich boy, however ridiculously eccentric he might be. When the meeting came to an end; there was only a few things to be discussed when the supposed chairman kept snoring after all; she stood up and walked toward Wayne Enterprises' CEO Lucius Fox. Decisively, she held her ground before the man, one foot slightly before the other, arms tight at her sides.
"Mr. Fox-"She started, her tone appropriate for talking to a superior about the big boss and glanced back toward her problem as of late, "sir, I know Mr. Wayne is curious about how his trust fund gets replenished, but frankly, this is embarrassing."
Fox followed her gaze to said big boss, aka the fool of the town, and then looked back at her. She felt her stomach clench, her very being roaring in protest. Used to standing on the other side of proverbial line, she hated to get those kinds of stares, meant only to condescend. "You worry about diligence, Ms. Reese. I'll worry about Mr. Wayne."
She half-turned and closed her eyes. Count to ten…just think of all that beautiful money…Fortunately that was all the motivation she needed. She had spent months planning this con, on top of the six months enduring the mundane nine-to-six office life, and boring work gossip. No, she had come here for a reason and she wasn't going back with empty hands. Light seeped through the shades over the long narrow windows twinkling over her eyes as they fluttered open. She turned back to face Mr. Fox, and with all the reticence she could gather she muttered. "The numbers are solid."
Again a condescending stare, this time accompanied with a smile as well. "Do them again," he turned to leave, "wouldn't want the trust fund to run out now, would we?"
She glared at his retreating back and sniffed. It had better be worth it.
She did the numbers again. She couldn't know why; when she thought she was sure about something, she tended to be right about it hence the numbers were solid, much like the first time. Then she did something else. She couldn't know what urged her to do it, something almost primal, as much as irresistible. If she were lucky enough, she might find something against Fox for leverage, then it would be her turn to throw condescending stares around. So she did the numbers again but didn't stop there and searched Wayne Enterprises' other funds as well. Then she caught something.
It was easy to assume it as a small glitch, easy to overlook but to her it stood out like a red flag, blinking at her through the slender computer screen. She decided to dive deeper, to search for other such anomalies but to do that, it was necessary to break into the files she didn't have authorization to see, and that thought was enough distraction to put her off out of her case.
Not with haste, she warned herself. Delicate situations require careful planning. With the proper tools and time she could hack into their systems. It wouldn't be easy but she could pull it off and ifit proved too much a nut to crack for her she could easily hire Jeremy for another job. She wasn't really a fan of team jobs, too many problems to take care of, but Jeremy had proven himself to be a good partner on several different occasions, and he was an even better hacker. He was solid, unemotional on many different, interesting levels, and always down to business. It would be a child's play from him to find his way in.
But was it necessary? No, not really. She was there with a goal, as impossible as it seemed, and she had enough problems already; there was no real reason to chase after ghosts. There likely wasn't any profit to be gained except putting Fox in his place. But that, she had to admit, would be enough pay off at the end.
You shouldn't get personal and childish, chided half of her mind while the other started to list necessary precautions…An untraceable laptop is a must…no, stop, she ordered herself, pondering it from other angles. There must be other ways to get back at Fox without risking her cover identity. No man with his status could have risen up to where he stood with clean hands.
With that thought in mind, she started to check his background. His ascension to power, fall and re-ascension was a curious case and had been the favorite subject of Wayne Enterprises' grapevine for almost a year. Suddenly it hit her, hit her hard. Straightening her back, she checked the dates. They corresponded. The glitch was the same day as Fox's legendary return from his exile in the basement. The day Fox's former department had merged with Archives; the same day Bruce Wayne had regained his throne from the clutches of William Earle. A definite hostile takeover, but downright illegal too?
She smiled. It seemed so.
She stood up and headed for the elevator to descend into basement. There was something, something in there, she was sure of it. And when the woman known as Cameron Reese at that point of her life was sure about something she also tended to be right about it.
That night, in her overcrowded, tiny flat, she went over her options. Jason had warned her several times about greed. You must have control over your greed before it starts controlling you, she could almost hear his voice in her mind.
"People say because of our profession we are greedy," he had said, his cigarette hanging at the corner of his lips out of habit, unlit. He couldn't be counted as a good father according to any social principles but at least in his particular ways he had been trying. "to some extent, I must admit, doll, it's true, but I discovered some time ago the easiest way for a first class ticket behind the bars is greed exceeding one's abilities." He had fixed a mocking finger at her, "Know thyself."
When she had seen the designs of that thing that occupiedthe news every night, jumping from roof to roof, pancaking police cars, she had laughed. The merry sound had ripped through the abrasive silence of Archives, and despite it she laughed again.
How delightfully unexpected, how very-interesting.
When the first shock of the unbelievable discovery wore off, she had pondered what to do. Making sacrifices wasn't a foreign notion to her. Life had taught her that point very successfully. If you chose to become a drafter and thief as a profession, you were bound to forsake some things in favor of others. Or else you wouldn't last long in the game.
The con she was trying to pull against LSI Holdings wasn't her best, but then again it wasn't required to be. She was more than a little sure LSI's income's had been gained in not quite legal ways; it wasn't very likely they would call a full investigation. They would surely want to deal with it themselves, and she had been very careful not to leave any traces that would lead them to her. She had no partners to worry about, and had worked hard to make Cameron Reese's background impeccable. Truthfully though, more than anything she had been trusting that LSI wouldn't want to gets its hands dirty over a couple thousand dollars when they had the opportunity to make billions.
A couple thousand dollars wasn't bad, but on the other hand, the secret she had unburied must be worth millions. And then there was this urge, this stupid compulsive need to get people to acknowledge her, make them amazed, and bring them to appreciate her skills. You have fooled everyone, but not me. You are good but I am better.
Greed and pride… Who could resist their call? For that she chose to blame the frailty of humanity. And truthfully, if even the great Morningstar could fall, who was lil' ol' her not to follow anyway?
When she went to see Fox in his office the following morning she was dressed how Cameron Reese would dress on such an occasion. It was Ms. Reese who had come through the massive main entrance six months ago and it was trivial Ms. Reese that would leave it, in whatever way that might be. Because if there was one thing she was really good at, it was surviving, and that included not ever comprising her identity.
Dressing in the way she would have preferred wouldn't do. Cameron Reese had a style and upbringing very different from her true self. Even to blackmail, she would go stylish. But then again, a relief in persona must be allowed; hence she wore a simple white shirt and dark, flowing high waist pants instead of the conventional suits. She put her glasses on but instead of a professional tight bun, she let the dirty blonde hair hang loose down her shoulders in waves. She put faint yet bright toned eye shadow on, going with her light green eyes, and the favorite light peach lipstick was gone, but she did go with the darkest pink, something closest to the red that Ms. Reese could wear. Yes, that should do it.
Even though he did notice the difference in her attitude, as he must have done, it was hard to overlook, he didn't show it. She sat back, and crossed her legs in a way Cameron Reese would never do under normal circumstances, mostly to worry him.
Though her attempt to trouble him seemed to fail because Fox didn't even bother to lift his head to look up at her from the reports he was reading. "What can I do for you, Ms. Reese?"
She surpassed her urge to grit her teeth, and replied with a sweet tone. "You wanted me to do due diligence on the LSI Holdings deal again," she paused a little. "I found some irregularities."
He finally lifted his head up and…that stupid smile again. "Their CEO is in the police custody."
She threw at him the most fictitious smile she could handle and looked directly into his eyes. "Not with their numbers, with yours. Applied Sciences," she flashed another mocking smile; lips not parted and leaned forward. "Whole division of Wayne Enterprises just disappeared overnight…I went down to Archives and started pulling some old files." Leaning back again, she looked at him smugly. "It is amazing what one could find through that mess." She stopped to wait for an answer. When he didn't talk, she continued. "Don't tell me you didn't recognize your baby out there, pancaking cop cars on the evening news. Now you got the entire R&D Department burning through cash claiming it's related to cell phones for the Army? What are you building for him now, a rocket ship?"
At that point she had to admit her mouth overran her brain. The slip of Cameron's persona was visible-she had waited so long to gloat-but luckily he didn't seem to be aware of it. He kept looking at her, and defiantly she held his stare. "Ms. Reese..." He leaned forward. "What do you want?"
"I want…" She paused as if to really consider it then pursed her lips. "I've never been a greedy person, Mr. Fox. I want-say…a million dollars a year for the rest of my life."
Surprised, he straightened back, and smiled. "Let me get this straight. You think that your client, one of the wealthiest, most powerful men in the world, is secretly a vigilante…" What? Could it be that she heard him wrong? "...who spends his nights beating criminals to a pulp with his bare hands…"She blinked once,then twice,"…and your plan is to blackmail this person?" Satisfied with her lack of response and frozen stupor, he leaned back and smiled yet again down at her. "Well, good luck."
She knew that a good fighter should know when to retreat, and analyze the situation to strike back again. She stood up, and turned to leave. "Keep that as well," Fox called after her, and she pivoted her body to see him pointing at the plans with his head.
"I already have copies," she said through her teeth.
How had she missed it, how had she let appearances fool her to the point where she didn't have any good excuses for her failure was beyond her. But dammit, it had seemed logical. Definitely more logical than believing Bruce Wayne to personally be that rodent man instead of just banking and backing him up. But, then again, everything really had started with Wayne's coming back from the dead, from his long absence doing only-God-knew what. A young man, merely a teenager who had disappeared off the face of earth the very day his parent's killer had been gunned down by the mob at the courthouse in which he had been set free. How could she have missed such a thing? She glared at the ceiling.
No, she hadn't missed that part. It was understandable to assume that Bruce Wayne's support for the vigilante was for that particular reason. And Bruce Wayne was the most self-absorbed, self- involved person she had known and that was saying a lot, because in her life she knew a good number of people that were very self-absorbed. How one could assume him to be that thing, a vigilante. It hadn't been logical.
That night in her home, she thought about him at great length. She remembered her doubts about his mannerisms, the times she had thought he was faking it. Some things only made sense only in retrospect, she thought grudgingly, gazing at her ceiling. But stressing over it didn't help anything; especially with Fox thinking she had known the truth. And truth to be told, what would have changed if she had known the secret? She still would have threatened him.
Like other of time of crisis, she consulted her best friend: she set the short round glass in front her on the coffee table and sat cross-legged to pour a handsome amount of liquid into it. There should still be something she could do with that information.
Would blackmailing Fox and Bruce Wayne for being a vigilante's accomplices been less dangerous than blackmailing the said vigilante directly? No. No, it wouldn't have. Would Fox tell him what she had tried...he would, certainly. Then what would Batman do to her? Threaten her, for starters, she was sure. She was also sure he couldn't harm her in a deathly way, maybe a few bruises and such but not further. He had rules, everyone knew it. She had tried to blackmail him, yes, but as much as he knew she was an opportunistic young woman who was out of her depths. Apart from an attempt for blackmail, Cameron Reese wasn't a criminal, not that she thought herself one. Moral laws, social norms and semantics to be damned for all she cared.
After second glass of scotch, she had categorized the situation as 'not that bad'. After the third she was truly convinced he couldn't harm her fatally. And at the fourth she started to consider there might be a way to get out of this mess, while still making money.
The following night, on T.V she saw Harvey Dent declare himself as Batman.