Batman fic: The Fantastic Detective Mr. Edward Nigma, Chapter 3
Title: The Fantastic Detective Mr. Edward Nigma
Characters/Pairings: Edward Nigma, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Jonathan Crane, mentions of and appearances by others, established Wayne/Crane
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none as far as I can tell
Disclaimer: I don’t own Batman, Superman, or any of the other characters from Batman or Superman they belong to DC comics, Warner Bros., etc.
Spoiler alert: Spoilers for Batman Begins, the Dark Knight, Superman Returns, and a bit from the DC universe. WARNING! Takes Places two years after my fic The Boundaries of Friendship
A/N: Takes place two years after the events in my last fic The Boundaries of Friendship and about a year after the events of Superman Returns. Basically, Superman Returns happened between these two fics.
Summary: The Man of Steals saves the day and Nigma learns there is more to Superman than even he thinks.
Chapter Title: The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts
Gotham City, Arkham Asylum
It was easy to sneak into Arkham. The criminals at this place snuck in and out every day, so why couldn’t Bruce? Most places in the Asylum were deserted at this point. Bruce hoped that many of doctors and nurses managed to get out of the asylum, but chances were many of the staff and patients were held up in the Intensive Treatment Ward. Bruce still wasn’t certain how many of the patients were helping the Joker and how many were hostages.
Bruce crawled through the air ducts; his shoulders hurt and his back ached, but he finally made it. Looking at of the vent, Bruce surveyed the situation. The Joker was pacing at the front of the room with what looked like the leg of a wooden chair. Ivy and Harley were guarding the left and right doors while Killer Croc and… Jon! Bruce couldn’t believe it. Jonathan stood with a syringe in his hand guarding the hostages with Croc.
“Dammit, Jon.” Bruce whispered silently to himself.
The Joker’s pocket started ringing, playing the latest song by Keisha.
“Well howdy doody, Commisioner. What can I do for ya?”
“Release the hostages, Joker.”
“Hostages? Hmmm… hostages… nope, no hostages here; we are having a fun slumber party though. Besides, aren’t ya supposed to negotiate with me?”
“Alright Joker, what do you want?”
“Hmmm… some pizza would be good-”
Bruce kicked open the vent and made sure to land onto top Croc. The man fell backwards, hitting his head off the concrete wall and rendered unconscious in a matter of seconds.
“Never mind Commissish, the delivery boy is already here.” The Joker yelled and charged at Batman with Harley following on his heels. Ivy, not interested in helping the deranged clowns, quickly ran from the room. Bruce was too busy dodging Harley’s attacks to stop Ivy. He’d deal with her later. For now he’s just have to keep his wits about him. Every so often, the Joker stepped into the fray with a well time swiped at Bruce’s legs, back, or stomach. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Jon move forward. Bruce’s stomach clenched at the thought of fighting him the way he used to, when suddenly the Joker let out a scream. Harley jumped, startled at the Joker’s scream, giving Bruce enough time to knock her out. Bruce looked away from Harley, seeing the Joker holding Jon by his collar. There was an empty syringe still stuck in the Joker’s arm.
“You are supposed to be trembling in fear,” Jon said, sounding more annoyed than scared.
The Joker pulled Jon closer. “Do I look like a man with anything to be afraid of?”
Bruce moved to hit the Joker, but the clown quickly backed up, pulling Jon in front of him. The Joker reached into his coat and pulled out a handgun.
“One of the lovely security guards was nice enough to lend me his gun so I can threaten the hostages,” Joker said pressing the gun to Jon’s temple.
“Let him go, Joker.”
“Yeah, let me go.”
“I told you that you could a be hostage or an accomplice, Jonny. Guess what you chose.”
“You have twenty other hostages in here pick one of them.”
“Jeez Jonny, I thought you were reformed.”
“I’m reforming - not suicidal.”
Bruce moved toward the Joker, intent on grabbing the gun while the Joker was distracted, when the ceiling started coming down. Bruce went to save the hostages before the ceiling collapsed, but found that they were somehow already gone, and in their place was a tied up Poison Ivy.
“What the-?”
“Superman,” Jon yelled in shock and awe.
Bruce turned around, and there he was in all his goddamned, primary-color glory.
“Joker, I demand that you release that um… other convict.”
The Joker started howling with laughter. “Look at you! Mr. Red, White, and Blue himself in Gotham to stop me! Yeah, right. Listen Supes, may I call ya Supes, why don’t you go back to Metropolis and pull some cats out of trees. You are interrupting my Bat-time.”
Bruce blinked, and Jonathan was safely placed on the other side of the room, the hostages were freed, and the Joker was knocked out, lying next to an annoyed looking Ivy.
Superman smiled down at his handy work. “Now the only thing left to do is turn you into the authorities, Batman.”
Superman turned around and found only a forlorn looking Jonathan Crane staring back at him. The Batman was nowhere to be found.
“How did he sneak away? From me!” Clark started scanning the building with his x-ray vision and super-hearing but found nothing. The Batman was long gone now.
“Yeah, he does that.”
Superman glanced at Jonathan Crane. “You are the Scarecrow, right? The one who poisoned the Narrows here in Gotham?”
Crane held his head high. “I was the Scarecrow. I’ve given up that life now.”
Superman smiled and nodded. “I admire that, I really do. Good luck with your rehabilitation, I just know you will be released soon.”
Jonathan beamed. “Um, thank you… I mean, thanks, Superman.”
Clark was about to fly away when he felt a hand grab his arm. He saw Jonathan Crane clutching on his arm with a pleading look in his eye.
“I know you aren’t from around here so I’m going to fill you in on something. Batman didn’t kill anyone. The people of Gotham don’t know, but we do - the inmates here at Arkham, I mean - he didn’t kill anyone.”
Crystal blue eyes gazed seriously at Crane. “He’s a vigilante.”
Jonathan nodded. “He can be an idiot, stubborn, and clearly has issues he’s not dealing with, but he’s a good man. I’m not asking you to believe me, just to… give him a chance.”
Superman’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “I promise,” he said and flew away. Clark had a certain detective to meet with.
Gotham City, East End, Edward Nigma’s Apartment
Edward smirked and turned off the television as it showed, for what seemed like the thousandth time, Superman flying heroically away from Arkham. Edward congratulated himself on averting disaster. He knew Batman was an oaf, and well Superman clearly was too, but at least he was a powerful oaf. Edward used Superman like a gun, pointing him in the right direction and pulling the trigger. Edward Nigma was a hero today. Though, the rest of the brainless population didn’t know it.
Edward stood from the couch, stretched, and yawned. After his trying day at the party, and then all the hero-ing he did, he was exhausted. Edward moved toward the bedroom, intent on simply falling into bed when he heard a knock at the door.
There was no one who would visit Edward. The only two people he could really call friends were Jonathan and Harley, and they were both locked away in Arkham. The Bat would never use the door and he doubted his neighbors would want to introduce themselves, especially at ten at night, in the East End, to a former convict. Edward cautiously peered out the peephole of his door and found no one. He was about to dismiss the whole thing as a prank from whatever kids lived in the building when he heard the knocking again. Except, he was still looking out the peephole and still saw no one. Furthermore, the sound wasn’t coming from the door. Edward slowly turned around and stared at the curtain-covered window with a look of horror. He was twelve stories up and there was no ledge by the window. That meant it could only be one person, or rather, alien. The knock continued a little louder this time, or maybe it only seemed louder to Edward.
“Mr. Nigma, I can see you. Could you please let me in?”
Edward remained with his back pressed against the door. “No.”
There was an audible sigh from the window. “You know, I don’t have to ask.”
Edward slowly pulled himself away from the door and inched toward the window. He pulled the curtain open quickly the way one would rip off a band-aid, and jumped back violently when he saw Superman hovering there. He knew the alien would be there but knowing it and seeing were two completely different things.
“Mr. Nigma please, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”
“I’m not afraid!” Edward stormed forward and violently opened the window. He had hoped to shock or at least fluster the Man of Steel, but he just calmly floated through the window and touched down gently on the ugly green carpet in his apartment.
“We need to talk.”
“So you said. Speak your peace, then get out of my home.”
Superman did seem flustered then; his eyes widened and his hands clenched ever so slightly. It was always very subtle but the signs were all there and all pointing to a bumbling Daily Planet reporter. The same way that the reporter seemed to hold his head a little too high at times, or play up his clueless persona a little too much. That, and the fact that the two men looked exactly like each other, had told Edward Nigma one very important thing, that Clark Kent was Superman.
“You know my secret identity.”
Edward scoffed. “What, like it’s hard? At least Batman was a challenge, you don’t even wear a mask. Glasses, a secret identity does not make.”
“It’s always worked before.”
“That’s because the rest of the world is an idiot.” Edward mulled the idea around in his head a bit, thinking things beyond his own perception the way Dr. Adams had instructed him to. “And the preconceived notions of who Superman is and how he should act is completely opposite your Clark Kent persona. I admit even I was surprised. Why would a super-powered alien pretend to be a weak mortal? Are you trying to learn our culture? Understand us better? Or is it Miss Lane that has you working day after day as the bumbling reporter? If it’s the last one, I suggest you rethink your strategy because Lane is clearly not interested in Kent.”
Superman blushed and scratched the back of his head, and Edward started to wonder if it was Superman that was the persona and not Clark Kent. “Its, um, complicated, but anyway, I came here because I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t tell anyone about my identity.”
Edward frowned and shook his head. “You mean you aren’t going to threaten me or try to trick me into keeping your secret.”
“What? No! I would never, I just want to make sure I can trust you. You seem like a good person, but I have been fooled before.”
“I bet. You’re far too trusting, that much is clear. With that attitude, I suggest you leave Gotham as soon as possible. Good people in Gotham tend to get themselves killed.”
“I can take care of myself, but you’re avoiding the question. Is that something that all Gothamites do?”
“Yes, to latter. As to the former…” Edward shrugged. “I don’t see why I should.”
“You’ve kept Batman’s secret.” Superman was giving him an imploring look, as if willing Batman’s identity out of him, but Edward had promises to keep. Jonathan would never forgive him if Bruce was arrested.
“I have my reasons for that.” Edward stared at Superman. “Are you going to arrest him?”
“I promised someone that I would give him a chance, but I can’t promise I won’t arrest him. Is it true he didn’t kill anyone?”
Edward bit his lip and kicked at the coffee table. “It’s the reason I went to Arkham. I couldn’t let it go. I knew he was innocent but I couldn’t prove it, but I knew, I just knew, because it didn’t make any logical sense. The police refused to listen to me. Hell, Gordon outright ignored me! Eventually, I started realizing how stupid everyone was, and worse yet, the few intelligent ones allowed themselves to be blinded by what the rest of society wanted them to think, even the Batman.”
Edward stopped and placed a hand over his face and tried to achieve some sort of calm. He revealed too much about himself already, but now he would have to reveal a little more. Edward had spent two years in therapy working on his obsession with riddles, but despite being pronounced cured, his doctor had told him that he could never fully be cured of his OCD or his supposed narcissism. He could only try and maintain, to find a balance.
“I like to know things. I need to know things. I propose a trade. I will keep your secret, but you have to tell me why.”
Superman shrugged. “Why what?”
“Pretend to be human.”
“I was raised as one so, it wasn’t hard.”
That was not an answer that Edward was expecting and it only raised more questions in his over active brain.
“Thank you, Mr. Nigma,” Superman said, placing what was meant to be a consoling hand on his shoulder. It only infuriated Nigma.
“Yeah, yeah, get out of here, flyboy.”
Superman nodded and flew out the window with a wave. Edward glared out his window. The man was far too nice. It was almost unnatural. Edward sighed and slumped down on the couch, turning the television back on. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.
Gotham City, Wayne Tower
Bruce glared at the morning paper and willed it to burst into flame, but since he was not some ridiculous, flying, costumed alien, the paper remained as it was. Bruce was so wrapped up in his burning hate for the boy scout that he didn’t hear the door of his office open and close, nor did hear Lucius walk up to his desk.
“Don’t feel bad, Mr. Wayne. I’m sure you’ll make the papers some other day.”
Bruce frowned and folded the newspaper up. “Gotham is acting like that flying lunatic is a hero.”
“Isn’t he? If I recall he saved Dr. Crane last night.”
Bruce chose to ignore that comment. “Forgive me if I’m the only one who doesn’t trust a man with unlimited and unchecked power.”
“Some would say that about Batman.”
Bruce smiled. “Batman is just a symbol; Superman is a very real threat.”
“Another very real threat is the board of directors meeting for the Gotham City Bank. A meeting you should have been at five minutes ago.”
Bruce jumped up. “Shit.”
“They are waiting for you. I suggest you get there eventually.”
Bruce was already out the door and half down the hall. The board had been trying to approve taking a large sum of money from Falcone, and there was no way Bruce would let that happen. Richard Daniels was spearheading the deal, and a large number of the board was on his side. Bruce smirked, but Gotham’s elite always followed its prince.
Later that night, at some undisclosed location in Gotham City
“Your boy, Wayne, needs to be taken care of.”
“No, your boy, Richard Daniels failed. I suggest you take care of it.”
“Mr. Luthor, we have to put Wayne down; it’s the only way.”
“No, I have a better idea. I have an experiment I have been meaning to test anyway. Wayne will be dealt with by tomorrow morning.”
Characters/Pairings: Edward Nigma, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Jonathan Crane, mentions of and appearances by others, established Wayne/Crane
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none as far as I can tell
Disclaimer: I don’t own Batman, Superman, or any of the other characters from Batman or Superman they belong to DC comics, Warner Bros., etc.
Spoiler alert: Spoilers for Batman Begins, the Dark Knight, Superman Returns, and a bit from the DC universe. WARNING! Takes Places two years after my fic The Boundaries of Friendship
A/N: Takes place two years after the events in my last fic The Boundaries of Friendship and about a year after the events of Superman Returns. Basically, Superman Returns happened between these two fics.
Summary: The Man of Steals saves the day and Nigma learns there is more to Superman than even he thinks.
Chapter Title: The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts
Gotham City, Arkham Asylum
It was easy to sneak into Arkham. The criminals at this place snuck in and out every day, so why couldn’t Bruce? Most places in the Asylum were deserted at this point. Bruce hoped that many of doctors and nurses managed to get out of the asylum, but chances were many of the staff and patients were held up in the Intensive Treatment Ward. Bruce still wasn’t certain how many of the patients were helping the Joker and how many were hostages.
Bruce crawled through the air ducts; his shoulders hurt and his back ached, but he finally made it. Looking at of the vent, Bruce surveyed the situation. The Joker was pacing at the front of the room with what looked like the leg of a wooden chair. Ivy and Harley were guarding the left and right doors while Killer Croc and… Jon! Bruce couldn’t believe it. Jonathan stood with a syringe in his hand guarding the hostages with Croc.
“Dammit, Jon.” Bruce whispered silently to himself.
The Joker’s pocket started ringing, playing the latest song by Keisha.
“Well howdy doody, Commisioner. What can I do for ya?”
“Release the hostages, Joker.”
“Hostages? Hmmm… hostages… nope, no hostages here; we are having a fun slumber party though. Besides, aren’t ya supposed to negotiate with me?”
“Alright Joker, what do you want?”
“Hmmm… some pizza would be good-”
Bruce kicked open the vent and made sure to land onto top Croc. The man fell backwards, hitting his head off the concrete wall and rendered unconscious in a matter of seconds.
“Never mind Commissish, the delivery boy is already here.” The Joker yelled and charged at Batman with Harley following on his heels. Ivy, not interested in helping the deranged clowns, quickly ran from the room. Bruce was too busy dodging Harley’s attacks to stop Ivy. He’d deal with her later. For now he’s just have to keep his wits about him. Every so often, the Joker stepped into the fray with a well time swiped at Bruce’s legs, back, or stomach. Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Jon move forward. Bruce’s stomach clenched at the thought of fighting him the way he used to, when suddenly the Joker let out a scream. Harley jumped, startled at the Joker’s scream, giving Bruce enough time to knock her out. Bruce looked away from Harley, seeing the Joker holding Jon by his collar. There was an empty syringe still stuck in the Joker’s arm.
“You are supposed to be trembling in fear,” Jon said, sounding more annoyed than scared.
The Joker pulled Jon closer. “Do I look like a man with anything to be afraid of?”
Bruce moved to hit the Joker, but the clown quickly backed up, pulling Jon in front of him. The Joker reached into his coat and pulled out a handgun.
“One of the lovely security guards was nice enough to lend me his gun so I can threaten the hostages,” Joker said pressing the gun to Jon’s temple.
“Let him go, Joker.”
“Yeah, let me go.”
“I told you that you could a be hostage or an accomplice, Jonny. Guess what you chose.”
“You have twenty other hostages in here pick one of them.”
“Jeez Jonny, I thought you were reformed.”
“I’m reforming - not suicidal.”
Bruce moved toward the Joker, intent on grabbing the gun while the Joker was distracted, when the ceiling started coming down. Bruce went to save the hostages before the ceiling collapsed, but found that they were somehow already gone, and in their place was a tied up Poison Ivy.
“What the-?”
“Superman,” Jon yelled in shock and awe.
Bruce turned around, and there he was in all his goddamned, primary-color glory.
“Joker, I demand that you release that um… other convict.”
The Joker started howling with laughter. “Look at you! Mr. Red, White, and Blue himself in Gotham to stop me! Yeah, right. Listen Supes, may I call ya Supes, why don’t you go back to Metropolis and pull some cats out of trees. You are interrupting my Bat-time.”
Bruce blinked, and Jonathan was safely placed on the other side of the room, the hostages were freed, and the Joker was knocked out, lying next to an annoyed looking Ivy.
Superman smiled down at his handy work. “Now the only thing left to do is turn you into the authorities, Batman.”
Superman turned around and found only a forlorn looking Jonathan Crane staring back at him. The Batman was nowhere to be found.
“How did he sneak away? From me!” Clark started scanning the building with his x-ray vision and super-hearing but found nothing. The Batman was long gone now.
“Yeah, he does that.”
Superman glanced at Jonathan Crane. “You are the Scarecrow, right? The one who poisoned the Narrows here in Gotham?”
Crane held his head high. “I was the Scarecrow. I’ve given up that life now.”
Superman smiled and nodded. “I admire that, I really do. Good luck with your rehabilitation, I just know you will be released soon.”
Jonathan beamed. “Um, thank you… I mean, thanks, Superman.”
Clark was about to fly away when he felt a hand grab his arm. He saw Jonathan Crane clutching on his arm with a pleading look in his eye.
“I know you aren’t from around here so I’m going to fill you in on something. Batman didn’t kill anyone. The people of Gotham don’t know, but we do - the inmates here at Arkham, I mean - he didn’t kill anyone.”
Crystal blue eyes gazed seriously at Crane. “He’s a vigilante.”
Jonathan nodded. “He can be an idiot, stubborn, and clearly has issues he’s not dealing with, but he’s a good man. I’m not asking you to believe me, just to… give him a chance.”
Superman’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “I promise,” he said and flew away. Clark had a certain detective to meet with.
Gotham City, East End, Edward Nigma’s Apartment
Edward smirked and turned off the television as it showed, for what seemed like the thousandth time, Superman flying heroically away from Arkham. Edward congratulated himself on averting disaster. He knew Batman was an oaf, and well Superman clearly was too, but at least he was a powerful oaf. Edward used Superman like a gun, pointing him in the right direction and pulling the trigger. Edward Nigma was a hero today. Though, the rest of the brainless population didn’t know it.
Edward stood from the couch, stretched, and yawned. After his trying day at the party, and then all the hero-ing he did, he was exhausted. Edward moved toward the bedroom, intent on simply falling into bed when he heard a knock at the door.
There was no one who would visit Edward. The only two people he could really call friends were Jonathan and Harley, and they were both locked away in Arkham. The Bat would never use the door and he doubted his neighbors would want to introduce themselves, especially at ten at night, in the East End, to a former convict. Edward cautiously peered out the peephole of his door and found no one. He was about to dismiss the whole thing as a prank from whatever kids lived in the building when he heard the knocking again. Except, he was still looking out the peephole and still saw no one. Furthermore, the sound wasn’t coming from the door. Edward slowly turned around and stared at the curtain-covered window with a look of horror. He was twelve stories up and there was no ledge by the window. That meant it could only be one person, or rather, alien. The knock continued a little louder this time, or maybe it only seemed louder to Edward.
“Mr. Nigma, I can see you. Could you please let me in?”
Edward remained with his back pressed against the door. “No.”
There was an audible sigh from the window. “You know, I don’t have to ask.”
Edward slowly pulled himself away from the door and inched toward the window. He pulled the curtain open quickly the way one would rip off a band-aid, and jumped back violently when he saw Superman hovering there. He knew the alien would be there but knowing it and seeing were two completely different things.
“Mr. Nigma please, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”
“I’m not afraid!” Edward stormed forward and violently opened the window. He had hoped to shock or at least fluster the Man of Steel, but he just calmly floated through the window and touched down gently on the ugly green carpet in his apartment.
“We need to talk.”
“So you said. Speak your peace, then get out of my home.”
Superman did seem flustered then; his eyes widened and his hands clenched ever so slightly. It was always very subtle but the signs were all there and all pointing to a bumbling Daily Planet reporter. The same way that the reporter seemed to hold his head a little too high at times, or play up his clueless persona a little too much. That, and the fact that the two men looked exactly like each other, had told Edward Nigma one very important thing, that Clark Kent was Superman.
“You know my secret identity.”
Edward scoffed. “What, like it’s hard? At least Batman was a challenge, you don’t even wear a mask. Glasses, a secret identity does not make.”
“It’s always worked before.”
“That’s because the rest of the world is an idiot.” Edward mulled the idea around in his head a bit, thinking things beyond his own perception the way Dr. Adams had instructed him to. “And the preconceived notions of who Superman is and how he should act is completely opposite your Clark Kent persona. I admit even I was surprised. Why would a super-powered alien pretend to be a weak mortal? Are you trying to learn our culture? Understand us better? Or is it Miss Lane that has you working day after day as the bumbling reporter? If it’s the last one, I suggest you rethink your strategy because Lane is clearly not interested in Kent.”
Superman blushed and scratched the back of his head, and Edward started to wonder if it was Superman that was the persona and not Clark Kent. “Its, um, complicated, but anyway, I came here because I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t tell anyone about my identity.”
Edward frowned and shook his head. “You mean you aren’t going to threaten me or try to trick me into keeping your secret.”
“What? No! I would never, I just want to make sure I can trust you. You seem like a good person, but I have been fooled before.”
“I bet. You’re far too trusting, that much is clear. With that attitude, I suggest you leave Gotham as soon as possible. Good people in Gotham tend to get themselves killed.”
“I can take care of myself, but you’re avoiding the question. Is that something that all Gothamites do?”
“Yes, to latter. As to the former…” Edward shrugged. “I don’t see why I should.”
“You’ve kept Batman’s secret.” Superman was giving him an imploring look, as if willing Batman’s identity out of him, but Edward had promises to keep. Jonathan would never forgive him if Bruce was arrested.
“I have my reasons for that.” Edward stared at Superman. “Are you going to arrest him?”
“I promised someone that I would give him a chance, but I can’t promise I won’t arrest him. Is it true he didn’t kill anyone?”
Edward bit his lip and kicked at the coffee table. “It’s the reason I went to Arkham. I couldn’t let it go. I knew he was innocent but I couldn’t prove it, but I knew, I just knew, because it didn’t make any logical sense. The police refused to listen to me. Hell, Gordon outright ignored me! Eventually, I started realizing how stupid everyone was, and worse yet, the few intelligent ones allowed themselves to be blinded by what the rest of society wanted them to think, even the Batman.”
Edward stopped and placed a hand over his face and tried to achieve some sort of calm. He revealed too much about himself already, but now he would have to reveal a little more. Edward had spent two years in therapy working on his obsession with riddles, but despite being pronounced cured, his doctor had told him that he could never fully be cured of his OCD or his supposed narcissism. He could only try and maintain, to find a balance.
“I like to know things. I need to know things. I propose a trade. I will keep your secret, but you have to tell me why.”
Superman shrugged. “Why what?”
“Pretend to be human.”
“I was raised as one so, it wasn’t hard.”
That was not an answer that Edward was expecting and it only raised more questions in his over active brain.
“Thank you, Mr. Nigma,” Superman said, placing what was meant to be a consoling hand on his shoulder. It only infuriated Nigma.
“Yeah, yeah, get out of here, flyboy.”
Superman nodded and flew out the window with a wave. Edward glared out his window. The man was far too nice. It was almost unnatural. Edward sighed and slumped down on the couch, turning the television back on. There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.
Gotham City, Wayne Tower
Bruce glared at the morning paper and willed it to burst into flame, but since he was not some ridiculous, flying, costumed alien, the paper remained as it was. Bruce was so wrapped up in his burning hate for the boy scout that he didn’t hear the door of his office open and close, nor did hear Lucius walk up to his desk.
“Don’t feel bad, Mr. Wayne. I’m sure you’ll make the papers some other day.”
Bruce frowned and folded the newspaper up. “Gotham is acting like that flying lunatic is a hero.”
“Isn’t he? If I recall he saved Dr. Crane last night.”
Bruce chose to ignore that comment. “Forgive me if I’m the only one who doesn’t trust a man with unlimited and unchecked power.”
“Some would say that about Batman.”
Bruce smiled. “Batman is just a symbol; Superman is a very real threat.”
“Another very real threat is the board of directors meeting for the Gotham City Bank. A meeting you should have been at five minutes ago.”
Bruce jumped up. “Shit.”
“They are waiting for you. I suggest you get there eventually.”
Bruce was already out the door and half down the hall. The board had been trying to approve taking a large sum of money from Falcone, and there was no way Bruce would let that happen. Richard Daniels was spearheading the deal, and a large number of the board was on his side. Bruce smirked, but Gotham’s elite always followed its prince.
Later that night, at some undisclosed location in Gotham City
“Your boy, Wayne, needs to be taken care of.”
“No, your boy, Richard Daniels failed. I suggest you take care of it.”
“Mr. Luthor, we have to put Wayne down; it’s the only way.”
“No, I have a better idea. I have an experiment I have been meaning to test anyway. Wayne will be dealt with by tomorrow morning.”