Chapters Bruce Wayne sighed as he hung up his costume for the last time. The heart attack he'd had while trying to save that kidnapped girl had made one thing plain to him. He was too old to continue to be Batman, no matter how much he loathed the idea. However, when his only chance for survival and completing the mission had been picking up the gun and threatening the thug with it, he knew he could hide from that truth no longer. Walking up the steps out of the Batcave, he turned for one last look at who he once had been.
He also realized he would have to stop trying to fight Derek Powers attempted takeover of Wayne Enterprises. At least if a single company took over or absorbed the company, some vestige of his father's legacy would remain, as it was plain Bruce himself would have none of his own.
"Never again," he said to the cave at large, referring to both being Batman and fighting in general, turning off the lights one by one. As the cave went dark for what he was sure would be the last time, he turned to leave. However, noise deep in the cave - noise that wasn't caused by the resident bats - made him turn back to switch on the lights. The noise was from one of the vault rooms, where he stored those things recovered in battles with supervillains that he deemed too dangerous to leave anywhere far beyond his sight.
Striding confidently in, he brought no weapons with. While cruel eld had laid some grip on him, he did not feel as though he had succumbed completely as yet. He could still defend his home.
As he drew closer to the noise, however, he grew more cautious. The noise was coming from the vault in which he stored the dangerous magical artifacts. Pausing at the entrance, he picked up an nth-metal combat stave. The unique properties of the alloy disrupted any magical field it came in contact with, making it an ideal weapon for combatting magic users. Thus armed, he slowly opened the vault door, and then switched on the lights.
The first thing he noticed was that most of the artifacts had lost their eldritch glow, and the systems that had monitored their energy fields showed no magical reactions. Some of the artifacts even had cracks in their embedded gems. Their was also a large scorch mark in the floor in the center of the drained artifacts. A small white and purple shape was visible in the center of the blackened floor.
Bruce approached the shape carefully, holding his staff out ahead of him, just in case the figure was dangerous. He could feel his blood pumping faster as his body prepared for battle.
Before he could get any closer, his heart began to beat out of rhythm, having been pushed too hard as it was still recovering from the strain of earlier in the night. Clutching his chest, he staggered, falling to his knees, using the staff to hold himself up as he grunted in pain. He closed his eyes, struggling to regain focus and calm his labored heart.
A strange coolness flooded into his chest. Opening his eyes, he found himself wondering if maybe his heart had given out, and he had stumbled into the afterlife, or if perhaps the kidnapper from earlier had successfully killed him after all. He couldn't really find any other logical explanation for what he was seeing.
A tiny white unicorn with an expertly curled purple mane and tail looked up at him with bright blue eyes. A pale blue glow surrounded her horn, flowing from it into his chest, matching the cool sensation that eased his laboring, faltering heart. Feeling his levels of strength return to normal, he lowered himself all the way to the floor, letting the tiny filly crawl into his lap.
He began a more minute examination of the filly. Her coat was a pure white and very fine, meticulously cared for. Her mane was quite luxurious, and her horn a perfect spiral. The only marking of any sort on her body was a mark of three blue diamonds - the exact shade of her eyes and the glow from her horn - on each side of her rump. Her hooves also weren't what he expected of equine hooves, as they had a somewhat amorphous quality. Gently pressing his thumb into one of the filly's fore hooves, he felt it shift around his thumb and then grip.
Gently disentangling his thumb from her grip, he pushed himself to his feet, holding her in one arm as he made his way back out. For her part, the filly seemed fascinated with his clothing, running her hooves over the fabric and - at one point - nibbling on a button. Bruce couldn't stop himself from smiling. "What a rarity I've found," he mumbled under his breath.
The tiny filly swiveled her head to look up at him, her eyes wide.
"What?" he asked curiously. "Something to say?" He didn't actually expect her to speak.
The filly pointed to herself. "Wawity!" she said firmly.
Bruce stared. The creature he had found was not just unique to his experience, but capable of speech. "Your name...is Rarity?" he asked, intrigued.
Rarity nodded firmly. She then gasped, reaching towards the line of Batman costumes, seeming fascinated by them.
"No," Bruce said firmly. "Those aren't toys." He walked up the stairs, turning off the lights as he went up.
Rarity frowned, plainly pouting. She then looked up at him, her lips pursed as she begged.
"That won't work," Bruce replied firmly.
Rarity returned to her pouting.
Bruce chuckled. "Well, you're certainly going to be a handful," he said softly. "Should be interesting." He gently stroked her behind one ear, smiling as she leaned into the caress.
Bruce stared at the filly in his arms as he fed her from a bottle of goats milk he'd warmed up for her. He still couldn't quite figure out what she was or where she came from. A unicorn small enough to fit in his lap...he'd never heard of anything like it. He wished he could consult someone on this.
He mentally went over the list of those he knew he could talk to about this. He had cut his ties to the Justice League not long ago, and hadn't heard from any of them since. His previous sidekicks had hung up their capes and were living normal lives. He knew very few of the people who worked for him personally. And not long before he cut ties with the League, Alfred passed away from old age...
He'd never noticed it before, so focused was he on continuing to fill the role of Batman, but being Bruce Wayne had slowly become more and more lonely. The empty echoes of the Wayne Manor weighing on the mind, wearing away at resolve, forcing the realization of loneliness on the last resident.
As he came to this realization, little Rarity popped the nipple of the bottle out of her mouth, let out a tiny burp, and giggled before nuzzling into his chest. Bruce couldn't stop a slight smirk from gracing his face.
A thought occurred to him. As Batman, he was known as being the modern world's greatest detective. Why did he need to consult with someone over this new arrival? It was just yet another mystery to be solved. He was only forced to hang up his cape due to a failing body. His mind was still as sharp as ever. This was just what he needed, a new challenge to keep his fire burning.
With this in mind, he lifted the tiny pony up to his face to look her right in the eye. "Let's see what I can make out of you," he whispered with a slight smile.
Giggling, Rarity reached forward and booped his nose with one hoof.
Bruce's eyes crossed as he stared at the hoof. "Don't do that," he scolded, eliciting another giggle.
Bruce carefully washed Rarity in the kitchen sink, getting a good examination of her in the process. He'd so far found that she was completely at ease in the bath and enjoyed being cleaned, as long as he used high quality shampoo. The minute he reached for a generic, she kicked up a fuss and sent it flying across the room in a telekinetic aura. She also barely whimpered when his inexpert washing got soap briefly in her eyes. From what he could tell from that, she was an exceptionally well behaved infant.
He had considered putting her in diapers, but when he'd set her down in the bathroom to look for supplies, she had kept trying to climb up to the toilet. Stabilizing her over the bowl, he had discovered that she was already toilet trained, and also apparently knew how to properly use a bidet. He'd instead made note to look into either designing a floor level toilet attached to a bidet or getting a stepladder she could climb up to the bowl with, along with a seat cover that gave her room to stand on.
Drying her off, he found that her appearance before had been deceptively smooth. Between how floofed up her coat got after drying and the mess her mane became, it took all his self control to keep from bursting into laughter. However, Rarity's anguished expression had him quickly reaching for a brush and comb to return her coat and mane to their former pristine, well groomed look. Discovering that he was actually enjoying it, he even took the time to curl her mane and tail.
Sitting back once she was neatened up, Bruce decided it was time to introduce her to the one other resident of the Wayne Manor. He let off a shrill whistle. "Ace!"
With a loud bark, a large German shepherd came racing up to his call. The canine came to a halt at his feet, coming to heel without being ordered, his eyes locked on his master.
"Puppy!" Rarity said happily, toddling over and trying to climb onto his back.
Ace glanced briefly at the filly before turning back to Bruce. He gave a questioning woof.
"This is Rarity," Bruce explained. Though this was technically Ace V, the courage, loyalty, intelligence, and determination of the original had bred true in at least one pup of each successive generation, and that pup that possessed those qualities was given the name and remained at Wayne Manor with Bruce ever since the first Ace had been by his side, and it was more comfortable for Bruce to treat each successive Ace as a continuation of the original. They certainly acted like it. "She'll be staying here, too. Be gentle with her, and keep an eye on her."
Ace gave an affirmative woof, then turned to watch as Rarity batted at his upturned ear.
Bruce sat back to watch. He knew he didn't have anything to worry here, at least as far as Ace interacting with Rarity. He had proven gentle with youngsters before. After a time of watching, he stood up. "I'm going to get some supplies from the store," he told Ace. "Keep her out of trouble until I get back."
Ace gave an affirmative woof. Rarity waved a hoof at him. "Bye bye!" she said happily.
Bruce wasn't sure if he should be pleased that Rarity was such a secure and good natured youngster, surprised at her grasp of language so young, or concerned if leaving her with Ace as her only watch was smart. Then again, she was a good deal smaller than Ace, and didn't look to be capable of much climbing. As he headed to the door, he shrugged. What was the worst that could happen?
As Bruce walked back into the manor with his groceries as his eyes fell on Ace and Rarity. Rarity looked overjoyed, Ace looked resigned.
Rarity turned to Bruce. "Fada! I make puppy pwiddy!"
Bruce groaned, wondering how he was going to clean up the mess.
It wasn't until much later that night, when Rarity curled up in a basket on a coffee table in his bedroom, that he realized what the first word she'd said there was.
Bruce was amazed at how fast Rarity developed. Before long she was speaking complete sentences, and only the fact that not all her teeth had come in kept her speech from being perfect. She also began tending to her own grooming and bathroom needs as soon as she had available facilities and tools that she could manipulate, although she was always happy to curl up in his lap and let him brush her mane, tail, or coat. She also seemed determined to go everywhere with him, constantly asking questions about anything and everything around her.
She also grew bored quite easily, and could frequently be found trying to force the secret passage to the Batcave, despite the fact Bruce had sealed it completely. Eventually, Bruce decided he needed to find some other way to capture her attention.
That was when he introduced her to computers.
Bruce had never really liked the increase in automation of the world around him, as more and more human effort slowly was replaced by more and more machine activity. As such, with the exception of the tech in the Batcave and the home security system, the only state of the art electronics in the manor was two personal computers - one his and one that had belonged to Alfred before his passing - and the holographic television. Nothing else in the manor had changed since he first donned the cape and cowl all those years ago. The stove was still gas.
So when Rarity had pestered him with questions about the computer while he was working on matters for Wayne Enterprises, he had pulled out Alfred's old model and handed it to her, telling her to have fun with it. She had let out a coo of pleasure and immediately began exploring all the functions on it, her telekinesis - which Bruce had first seen when she went to brush her own mane by levitating the brush - easily manipulating the keyboard and touch screen.
After a time, Bruce glanced over to see what she was playing with. He had expected her to be using one of the game programs, watching online videos, or possibly having found something amusing to read, since she didn't seem to have any problems with the written word. He had intended teaching her to read a few weeks ago to last longer, but she grasped it quite quickly.
What he did not expect now was for her to be browsing the stock market, with a text document open where she was analyzing the flow of the stocks and making pretend stock purchases.
He couldn't help but chuckle in amusement at that. After watching her at work for a time, he decided to speak up. "Rarity?"
Rarity looked up at him with a wide smile. "Yeth, Father?" she asked, wrinkling her muzzle as her as yet not grown in front tooth caused her to still lisp.
Bruce smiled. "You seem to be enjoying that," he pointed out.
"Oh, yeth," she replied eagerly. "It theemth a motht amuthing game, but it won't let me play." To demonstrate, she clicked on one of the stocks, only to get an alert of not having an account.
Bruce rubbed his chin thoughtfully. He hadn't expected her to think of it as a 'game', but teaching her the value of money and the economy had to start somewhere...and a 'game' was as good a place as any. "How about I set you up an account to play with?" he suggested. "See how well you do then?"
Rarity gasped happily. "Oh Father, would you?" she pleaded, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Even at this age, she seemed to instinctively know how to present herself to be the most appealing.
Bruce held out his hand. Eagerly, Rarity handed over the unit. After a bit of typing, he handed it back to her. "See this?" he pointed. "That's your username and password, and this is your account balance, and this is your portfolio value. See what you can do with it."
Rarity squealed happily. "Thank you, Father!" she said joyfully, immediately pulling the unit against her as she began to 'play'. Shaking his head, Bruce returned to his own work.
After a time, he went to the kitchen to start to plan dinner. On getting there, however, he discovered that he was short on a few things he needed to feed them both. He went back to check on the little filly. "Rarity," he called, "I need to go get some groceries. You okay here on your own for an hour?"
"I'm fine, Father!" Rarity called back, waving. "And I'm not alone. I have Aythe." True to her word, she was laying back against Ace's barrel, the canine curled around her as she braced the mobile PC between her hooves, manipulating the controls with telekinesis. The canine in question let out a resigned snort, ruffling Rarity's mane and making her giggle and squeal in frustration.
Smiling, Bruce nodded. "Alright. I'll be back soon." With that, he headed for the store.
Before long, Bruce returned home, his arms full of groceries. A brief glance into the foyer revealed that Rarity hadn't moved the entire time he was gone, her eyes still locked on the computer as she lay back against Ace. Deciding not to disturb her yet, he went to the kitchen and began to prepare dinner.
An hour and a half later, dinner was finished, and he brought the two dishes to the table. "Rarity," he called. "Time to turn that off."
"But Father!" Rarity whined. "I'm winning!"
Bruce blinked, unsure how he should interpret that. "Rarity, it's dinner time. You can play again another day."
"Yes, Father," Rarity called back, her voice mollified. She trotted happily into the dining room, climbing up the stairs to her seat at the table. She set her computer beside her place as she focused on her food, smiling as she saw that Bruce had made Eggplant Parmesan, one of her favorites.
Bruce glanced at the comp unit. "May I?" he asked, reaching for it. Her comment about 'winning' had piqued his curiosity.
"Go ahead," Rarity replied happily as Ace took up his usual spot kneeling beside her chair. Despite his excellent training, Ace, like any dog, still loved table scraps, and he knew he had better luck getting them at table from Rarity than from Bruce.
Bruce spun the unit around and activated the screen, calling up the stock market program...and stared. Rarity had, in the course of the two hours she'd been on the market and - apparently - using some programs Alfred had left on there from his days before his employment at Wayne Manor, set up three ghost accounts attached to her primary to distribute her purchases to avoid unduly influencing the market (save when she made purchases specifically to influence the market), and the 'total portfolio value' and 'total liquid assets' indicated that she had multiplied the initial deposit he'd given her to 'play' with by a factor of seven.
Regaining his composure, he turned back to the meal, looking at Rarity carefully as they both ate. Ever since she had first called him Father, he had been thinking about what that meant for him...what it meant if she were to be his daughter. He had been concerned that the pressures that could bring - to both of them - would be excessive, and possibly more than his weakened heart or her young mind could handle. But if she had such a natural talent and innate grasp of economics and market forces...
...perhaps it was time for 'Take Your Daughter To Work Day' after all.
After coming to the conclusion that Rarity had somehow been reverse aged, Bruce had begun making a few speculations based on past experience and what knowledge he had managed to gather on the workings of magic. He had compiled his conclusions in a list he went over as he prepared his next move for her sake.
Fac t: He knew Rarity's capabilities - both intellectual and social - showed signs of experience rather than just natural talent.Conclusion : Rarity had been reverse aged.Fact : Rarity had appeared in the Batcave, in the high magic vault, and her appearance coincided with the complete drain of magical energy from all artifacts stored there.Supposition : Either Rarity drained their energy on her arrival to sustain herself, absorbed the energy to empower herself, or the energy went to powering this end of the gate she arrived through.Evidence : Rarity's magic demonstrates limited applications, so far managing only telekinesis and minor transfiguration of fabrics to different shapes. Telekinesis also limited presently to many small objects or one larger one, nothing with total mass greater than her own.Conclusion : Rarity's magical energy quotient is drastically less than the total energy of the drained artifacts, indicating the spell that brought her consumed the energy.
Final Conclusion : Rarity is from another world, a world of powerful magic, and was reverse aged as she arrived in the Vault. This was either a result of saving her from a cataclysm (Superman scenario), banishing a thorn in someone's side (Mythos scenario), an accidental casting (any number of scenarios), or random fluctuation of magical circumstances (Deus Ex Chaos).
Course of Action : Begin training immediately.
Having reached this decision, the only thing that confronted Bruce was how, exactly, to go about doing it. He knew from past experience dealing with youngsters that trying to make it a parenting directive was sure to either foment rebellious behavior or give him only an indifferent student. For her sake, he needed to find some way to make her want to train. Unfortunately, here his experience failed him, as the only ways he knew from his experience to get youngsters to want to do something was to either order them not to do it after they'd shown interest, or to demonstrate that their life depended on obedience. The first wouldn't work as Rarity had shown no interest in an activity she had no knowledge of, and the second would require needlessly terrorizing her. As willing in the past as Bruce had been to do whatever it took to do the right thing, he didn't want to take that path if he could help it, as a determined student learned better than a terrified one.
Having reached no conclusions as to how to capture Rarity's enthusiasm, he did know one thing: if he was going to train her, he needed to be in better shape than he was. As per doctor's instructions, he had been taking it easy since his heart condition had started acting up, and he was beginning to get out of shape. Still, there were plenty of ways to keep in shape - and get back into condition - without putting his heart under strain.
To that end, he began the next morning with a basic Tai Chi workout, getting his muscles back into condition for the more strenuous workouts, while also building up his wind again. After completing three katas, he relaxed and took a drink of water.
"Father, that was beautiful!"
Blinking in surprise, Bruce turned to the door, seeing Rarity standing there in a light bathrobe, her mane and tail already perfectly curled as usual. How did she sneak up on me? Bruce wondered, shocked, making a mental note to also work on his getting his senses back up to their old acuity as well. He wasn't that old yet. "That was Tai Chi," he explained. "It's a martial art focused on spiritual stability, and is good for both training the body and maintaining health."
Rarity smiled widely, her eyes sparkling like stars. "It was breathtaking ! It was like a dance in the wind!"
Bruce raised an eyebrow. He hadn't expected to catch her interest this easily, but he wasn't about to complain. "Would you like to learn?" he offered.
Rarity gasped happily and clapped her hooves...though no sound came. "I would love to!" she said eagerly, rushing into the exercise room, her hooves making no sound on the floor. It was at that point Bruce realized her horn was glowing, and a matching glow surrounded her four hooves.
"What's this?" he asked, gesturing to it. He was pretty sure it was some form of sound suppression, but he was curious about the exact nature and how Rarity had come up with it.
Rarity smiled nervously. "Well, sometimes you're deep in something, and I don't want to disturb you as I pass...so I put a sort of 'magic cushion' on my hooves so they don't actually contact the floor. It slows me down a little, since I have to make sure to brace myself more carefully with each step to keep from slipping, but it lets me move almost silently.
Bruce didn't bother to suppress the proud smile on his face. Whether through instinct or accessing suppressed experience, she already had some grasp of the arts of ninjitsu, yet another part of the discipline he had learned to be Batman and fully intended to teach her as she increased her skills. "That's very impressive," he praised her. "There's quite a number of times in my own life that I would have liked to be able to do that." As she blushed in pleasure, he noticed a faint hum from her horn. "Can you manage it without the glow?" he asked carefully.
Rarity blinked. "I've...never tried. I'm not sure how I would manage it."
Bruce gently stroked her mane. "We'll work on that - and other things - together, alright? For now, how about I start teaching you Tai Chi?"
Rarity smiled happily. "I'd like that very much, Father!" she said happily.
"Then stand to my side," he instructed, internally pleased at how eagerly - and calmly - she obeyed. "We begin with breathing..."
Rarity's training over the next few months progressed well. While Rarity could manage to balance on her hind hooves to perform the hand movements with her forelegs, she wasn't able to maintain that balance for a full kata, as her body simply wasn't built for it. However, it wasn't that difficult for Bruce to take the basic principles of the art and reformulate one for her four-legged frame.
Once she achieved a certain level of mastery and confidence in Tai Chi - and his own skills and conditioning had returned - he began to introduce her to the concepts behind other martial arts. Given her small size and limited movement flexibility as compared to the human frame, most of the offense-focused martial arts were beyond her ability to learn at this time. As such, he decided to focus on defensive.
The first art after Tai Chi he introduced her to was Aikido, as her small frame, good leverage, and telekinesis were ideal for redirecting an opponent's force. The hardest part of adapting Aikido for her use had been determining exactly to what extent she should utilize her magic in the art. Eventually, he decided to first teach her how to utilize the art without any magic whatsoever, and leave it to her own creativity as to how best to utilize it once she understood the basic principles.
The internal focus these two arts granted her also put forth an answer to the question Bruce had asked at the beginning. It appeared that the glow of her horn - and the hum - during spell casting was because the magic was being focused through and then projected out of her horn to effect the world around her. While this was something she had to live with for casting spells on objects, her 'Silent Hoof' spell could be cast by focusing the magic through her horn and then - utilizing the principles of Tai Chi - sent back through her body and into her hooves.
Once she had mastered that, Bruce began introducing her to the art of ninjitsu, focusing on stealth and vital point strikes. If Rarity were to go on the offensive, her small size dictated that she would have to be fast, silent, and take her target down before they were aware of her presence.
It was during this part of the training that Rarity asked a question Bruce had been expecting. "Father, how did you learn all of this?"
Maintaining his calm, Bruce explained as best he could. "When I was younger, I had...a great deal of anger inside me. A lot of rage and pain and..." He shook his head. "I was a bit of a mess. The martial arts gave me focus, and...helped me find a purpose, a use for those emotions. It allowed me to temper the rage inside me into a weapon, and gave me the wisdom to use it properly."
Rarity's eyes widened, dewing with sympathy. "What could have happened to make you like that?"
Bruce was silent for a time. "Are you sure you want to know?" he asked softly. When Rarity nodded, he sighed. "Tomorrow, I will show you. For today, training is finished."
Rarity smiled widely. "I'll make dinner then!" she said happily, rushing to the kitchen.
Bruce sat back, letting his body relax after the training of the day, catching his breath. Tomorrow was going to be rough.
Bruce stood in the mild rain, holding his umbrella up over himself and his unicorn daughter. They stared together at the monument they had come to see. Stepping forward carefully, Rarity put her hoof to the inscription.
Here lies Thomas and Martha Wayne
Rarity blinked back moisture in her eyes as she stared at the grave, stepping back carefully. Bruce kneeled down beside her, resting his hand on her back before turning to address the grave.
"Mother, Father," he said softly. "I'm sorry it's been so long since I last visited. You know how painful it is for me to come here, and...I've lost myself in my work ever since...since." His eyes glanced briefly towards another gravestone nearby, smaller and more recently constructed than this monument. "But someone wanted to meet you both.
"This is Rarity...my daughter."
Rarity swallowed, glancing up at the imposing grave. "...Grandmother...Grandfather..." She steeled herself. "I...I'm pretty sure I'm not what you would have ever expected as a grandchild. I'm not entirely sure I'm what you would want, either. But...I hope you can bring yourselves to love me as much as Father does."
Bruce carefully stroked her neck under her mane, pleased and proud of the maturity that speech showed.
Rarity glanced closer at the dates carved into the stone. Her eyes showed she was making rapid calculations, and she suddenly gasped. "Father...you couldn't have been more than ten!"
"...I was eight..." Rarity whimpered and shivered in response to his statement. Bruce was easily able to see the connection her mind was making; only three years older than she was now. Given his own health issues, it was all too easy for her to imagine losing him soon. Leaning forward, he stroked her cheek. "Don't worry. I'm not feeling any signs of incipient mortality."
Rarity managed a small smile, and her shivers slowed. "How did you handle it? Who...who took care of you?"
Smiling softly, Bruce stood up and led her to the smaller grave he had glanced at before. She read the inscription there.
Alfred Pennyworth
"Hello, Alfred," Bruce said to the grave. "I'm sorry I haven't been to visit since the funeral." He chuckled. "I can still hear you scolding me for my inconsideration there...and for not bringing Rarity here for you to meet sooner, and for not waiting longer before letting her meet you." He kneeled down beside Rarity. "Rarity, this is Alfred Pennyworth. He worked as a butler and majordomo to my parents before their death, and then he became my caretaker and guardian as I grew up before taking on the same roles he served for my parents to me. He was a good friend, and saw me through many dark parts of my life."
Rarity looked up at the grave. The newer stone seemed warmer somehow than that of the other grave. Where the Wayne's tombstone seemed etched with sadness, grief, and pain...this one seemed suffused with contentment, passion, and gentle regret. Looking up at it, she could have sworn she felt warm arms around her, helping her to her hooves as a gentle voice lightly chided her for her recklessness. Blinking, she realized that, somehow, she was picking up some lingering energy of Bruce's interactions with the well loved friend who rested here. She smiled softly as her gaze traced down the stone, over the image of an elderly British gentleman - still brimming with vim and vigor - etched into the stone over the inscription.
Under the inscription, however, something caught her eye. "What does this mean?" she asked, putting her hoof to the etchings.
Bruce smiled, both surprised and proud. Most people who saw the coded inscription there would assume it was merely decoration, never realizing the message it contained. It took a very keen eye to spot the pattern in the carvings that was more than decorative. "It's a special dedication I left him," he replied. "It means, 'The Hero Gotham needed'."
Rarity blinked in confusion. "What does that mean, Father?"
He smiled softly. "It's a long story." As Rarity playfully measured the length of her ears, he chuckled. "Alright, I'll tell you...but not here. Some I'll need to tell you somewhere else, and some will have to wait until we get home."
"Alright," Rarity agreed. "Shall we go?"
Nodding, Bruce led the way out of the graveyard.
Their first stop was a small alley behind a theater in downtown Gotham. Despite how much the city had changed over the past nearly four decades, this place remained unchanged...almost as though the city itself refused to allow this place to alter from how it been that fateful day, almost 57 years before to the day. The day the fate of the very city had changed.
"What is this place?" Rarity asked, glancing around. "It's so dark and dreary...and dirty!" She let off a disgusted snort as she shook dirt off her hoof.
"Colloquially, this place is called Crime Alley," Bruce explained. "57 years ago, my parents and I were watching a performance in this very theater when I became frightened of some of the performance, and begged to leave. Stepping out into this alley on our way back to our car, we were confronted by a mugger with a gun. My father tried to protect us.
"It was here I watched that man shoot my parents dead."
Rarity fell completely silent, all thoughts of the filth of the place banished by the realization of its significance. "...Father?" she asked worriedly.
Bruce nodded. "You asked why I was filled with such rage and pain, needing the martial arts to forge it into a weapon I could wield, instead of being wielded by it? This is the reason."
Rarity stared out at the alley, feeling the weight of history and pain. "What did you do?" she asked softly.
He gently scooped her up. "For that part of the story," he said softly, "we'll talk in the comfort of home."
Back at the manor, Bruce handed Rarity a cup of cocoa to warm her up after the rain. She took it in her telekinesis as she balanced it between her forehooves, laying back against Ace's barrel. As Bruce sat down, the faithful hound from a line of faithful hounds laid his head in his master's lap.
Bruce took a sip of his hot tea. "Comfortable?" he asked Rarity.
She nodded. "And ready to hear the rest of the story."
Bruce smiled. "Actually, I'm curious if you can figure out the rest of the story from what you already know of me and the city." He leaned back. "Show me how clever you can be."
Rarity gave a frowning pout, but she recognized the look on his face. Ever since he began training her in the martial arts - amongst other things - every so often they'd come to part of the lesson he wouldn't explain. Instead, he would instruct her to extrapolate, and figure it out on her own. As long as she made the attempt, right or wrong, she was rewarded. If she gave up, however, she didn't get dessert after dinner that night. No amount of wheedling, cajoling, or whining would move him on this...and, in fact, often lost her dessert anyway.
Sighing, she snuggled into Ace's side as she thought. "Well..." she began. "Having just witnessed your parents' murder...I imagine the rage inside you was directed at the one who'd killed them, and failing having him available for retribution, towards all criminals." Glancing towards his face, she saw the gentle, encouraging nod to go on. "However, you were a child, so you couldn't act on that right away. The martial arts taught you self control, and Alfred must have taught you responsibility."
"He did, that," Bruce agreed, giving her that confirmation.
Rarity smiled, certain she was on the right track now. "If by the time you reached adulthood you still needed the weapon you had forged your emotional turmoil into, then your parents' murderer wouldn't have been caught yet...which meant crime was a major problem in the city if the police hadn't solved the murder of a pair of wealthy industrial philanthropists after more than a decade. And that sense of responsibility would have led you to try and save Gotham - the community your parents had been working on saving - from the crime that had claimed your parents!"
Bruce resisted choking on a sip of tea through force of willpower alone. "How did you come to the conclusion that they were philanthropists, and that they were trying to save the city?"
Rarity smiled. "Account records of Wayne Enterprises dating back nearly 80 years showed honorable business practice dedicated to 'the best for all' rather than 'the best for us', and the inscription on their grave said 'Community Leaders'. They could only have been good people, dedicated to the people of Gotham."
Bruce's smile widened at this. "Very well reasoned. Go on."
She frowned thoughtfully. "But you couldn't do it as Bruce Wayne. That would leave you vulnerable to the same crime that claimed your parents, and would leave everyone you cared about as a weakness criminals could exploit." She gasped. "That's what the suits in the dark place are for, aren't they?" she burst out. "You wore them to fight crime!"
Setting his tea down, he slowly applauded Rarity's deductions. "Very well done, Rarity. Very well done. You have it all right. You'll make an excellent detective when you're older." As Rarity blushed at the praise, he picked up the tea. "That's right. Donning those suits, I fought crime. To put fear into the hearts of the criminal element...I became Batman...the hero Gotham deserved."
Rarity gasped out again. "Alfred knew!" she said accusingly. "He helped you be Batman, covering for you and keeping you in good condition! That's what that inscription on his grave meant!"
Smiling, Bruce shook his head. "While you're right about his role, that's not the meaning of the inscription." He took a sip of his tea. "After my parents died, and many other times throughout my life, Alfred saved me from myself. Saved me from being consumed by my rage, from being consumed by my need to save Gotham...from losing myself entirely to Batman, until I would become little more than the face that wore the mask. He saved me...so I could save Gotham."
Smiling softly, Rarity set down her empty cup and snuggled up to Bruce's leg. "Quite the legacy our family has," she said softly.
Nodding, Bruce gently stroked her mane. "Indeed."
Bruce watched Rarity carefully over the next few years. While she had asked to be told his story, he was concerned about how learning it would affect her. It had occurred to him that it was a distinct possibility that she would follow his example and attempt to don the 'cape and cowl', as she put it, despite the new suit design having no cape (a safety concern with the increase of jet propelled vehicles).
He needn't have worried, though. Instead, Rarity had chosen to follow in her grandparents footsteps. She dedicated herself to the company and the city, doing all in her power to improve both. She had also thrown herself into the various social events they were invited to with more verve than Bruce himself had ever been able to bring to such occasions. He wasn't sure how she managed it, but she remembered everything everyone told her, and was always able to ask polite questions of those she met again that showed it, showing how much she cared about everyone. Whether upper crust, middle merchant, or even Wayne Enterprises' night janitor, she knew them all and showed with social queries how much she cared.
Between this and her own personal dedication to seeing to it that each quarter was better for Wayne Enterprises than the one before - without losing sight of the long term plans and goals - had led to some interesting water cooler talk. Bruce had overheard some of his employees speaking regretfully of how young Rarity was, and longingly for the day when she reached her majority and Bruce turned the company over to her.
The fact that he'd discovered her playing dress up with Ace again when he returned to the office after overhearing that conversation may have contributed to the laughing fit he refused to explain to her.
Even through all this, she still kept up with her martial arts training and her own day trading. Bruce inwardly marveled at how much energy and focus she had. Even for full grown adults, it was incredible. Either her race was naturally detail focused and heavily cerebral, or she had found some means of boosting her already great suppressed experience and natural talent.
Finally, one day over breakfast when she was 8, he had to ask. "Rarity," he said, broaching the subject carefully, "you seem to have a real knack for people."
Rarity smiled softly. "It's not that difficult, Father," she explained. "Through luck, I've arrived at the peak of the social ladder. When someone that important remembers even small details about you, it makes you feel special. That's all I do, really. With mild small talk, I remind people that whatever their class or monetary status or skills, they matter. And coming from me, they believe it." She giggled. "Being an adorable unicorn dressed up all pretty to melt hearts doesn't hurt that."
Bruce smiled. He'd seen even hardened soldiers at a veteran's banquet turn to putty when Rarity made an effort to be cute to win them over. "But how do you remember so many little details, and know so much ahead of time when we go somewhere?" Bruce rubbed the back of his head. "I've tried to do such things, but I confess you seem to have surpassed my limits."
Rarity giggled again. "I do my research ahead of time...and made something of a memory aid." Smiling, she levitated her glasses out of the pocket of the blouse she was wearing. She floated them over to him.
They were rather fancy half-moon glasses, more fashionable than functional since Rarity had no eyesight problems. However, seeing her wearing them had often made adults around her melt at how she was 'trying so hard to be grown up' for him. Taking the glasses in hand, he examined them, wondering how they could be such an aid.
It didn't take him long to see it. The lenses themselves were actually miniature computer screens on the inside, ready to project information. The power supply was in the frame, more than enough to power it for a full day on an hour's charge. And each bead of the chain was a state of the art mobile drive, each one able to hold a full terabyte of data.
"I collate everything I learn about someone with their picture and name," Rarity explained. "The moment their image is recognized by the lenses, they project the name for me. When I call them by name, the data is called up in order of importance that I dictate based on how they spoke of them when last we chatted, as well as a basic algorithm that sorts the information by basic rules of psychology." She smiled. "And if I ever run out of room, I can always attach a few more beads to the chain." Demonstrating, she used her magic to unhook the chain, showing link points at where the beads connected to plug in even more bead drives. "The jacks also move around the bead, so the chain can move fluidly," she explained, "while also allowing me to coil them up if I'm going to be engaging in an activity that would run the risk of them being caught on something."
Bruce couldn't help but grin at the ingenuity. "And you couldn't have had it remotely access a data storage unit at home, why?" he asked, not critically but curiously.
"Do you have any idea what that level of data access would do to bandwidth usage at one of the big social events?" Rarity asked, shocked. "Not to mention that the delay of data transfer would be noticeable, and it would be easy to figure out what I was doing. Really, Father, don't be so gauche!"
Bruce couldn't help but chuckle slightly. It was true that her current set up allowed her to read the data as though she were recalling it from her own mind. A closer look showed that the delay on loading from the drives to the screens was less than the time it took to get through general social pleasantries. He handed the glasses back to her. "Very clever, Rarity," he said proudly. "I've used systems like this myself for other things, but never quite so compact or easily concealable."
Picking up the newspaper - he still insisted on getting hard copy, even if the paper was no longer made from trees - he sighed. Crime rates were on the rise again. After word of 'Batman pulls a gun' got around in the criminal underworld, criminal activity had taken a nose dive to the point the police could handle it on their own. Bruce had hoped that would last. Then again, it had lasted for eight years before criminals had taken the absence of Batman as license to start increasing their activities again. Once more, his city was being polluted with crime.
"Don't even think about it, Father," Rarity spoke out suddenly, an intense scold in her voice.
"Think about what?" Bruce asked, managing to sound innocent.
"Don't be coy, Father," she replied intensely. "I know what article is on that page, and I know where your mind would go. I don't care how good of shape you're in for your age, you hung up the cape and cowl because your heart couldn't take it anymore, and no matter how much medicine and my magic has eased it, your heart is still no longer up to fighting crime." She sipped her tea. "So don't even think about it. I've been looking up more magic spells online, and while I still can't do much, I can apply a magical seal to prevent you from getting into the Batcave if I have to."
Bruce sighed. While the initial spell she'd used to calm his labored heart when they first met hadn't been needed since, she had also looked into magic she could use to strengthen his heart. As a result, he hadn't had an attack or falter since, even with the more active lifestyle Rarity's tastes in socializing and their combat training forced on him. But the condition that forced him to hang up the 'cape and cowl' hadn't gone away just because he'd learned how to manage it.
Turning the page, Bruce decided to bring up something he'd noticed in Rarity's behavior. "You seem to have taken a special interest in the McGinnis family," he commented dryly.
Rarity smiled softly. "Well, Warren and Mary are such wonderful people. Of course I'd enjoy their company."
Bruce glanced at her over the top edge of his paper. "And it just so happens to be coincidence that you've managed with a few choice words at the right time to head off several possible marital problems?"
Rarity shook her head, tossing her mane back over her shoulder. "Well, if I did some good, all for the better. Terry certainly deserves a happy family home."
"Ah yes, their son," Bruce said calmly. "He's only a couple years younger than you. You seem oddly fond of him."
Rarity glanced away. "He's interesting," she replied dryly. "I believe he has a lot of potential."
Frowning, Bruce folded his paper and stared directly at her. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked firmly.
Rarity shivered slightly, then looked back at him. "It's probably nothing important, but...there's something about him I don't quite understand. I was...hoping to figure it out before I brought it up."
Bruce sat back. "Well, perhaps we can figure it out together," he offered.
Rarity sighed. "I suppose. I'm not having much luck, though I was hoping to solve my first mystery myself." She looked up. "I don't know how else to put it but...he smells like you."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
"But not in the normal sense," Rarity explained. "He doesn't actually smell like you at all...but something in his scent always calls you to mind, for some reason." She shrugged. "I'm not sure what to make of that."
Bruce sat back. "I admit I'm not really sure what to make of it, either." He shrugged. "This is obviously something unique to your senses. If there is a mystery there, you're the only one who can solve it. Tell me if you do, though."
"I shall," Rarity replied, picking up her own paper. "Oh, Femme Fashions is having a sale!"
Bruce chuckled, rolling his eyes at Rarity's pleasure at shopping sales.
The past two years had seemed to blur for Bruce. Between the tail end of what he could teach Rarity about the family business - and business in general - helping her reach black belt level in the three martial arts he had taught her, and continuing to introduce her to society, time just seemed to fly by faster than Kal El. At some points, he wondered about how the only major things in his life were now about Rarity, but such thoughts were quickly discarded. According to the parenting books he'd read when she was younger, the child's accomplishments became the primary source of pride for good parents once they reached a certain age, so he took that to mean he was doing a good job.
Only a few major changes had occurred over the past two years that even showed any time had passed. The first was when Rarity had arranged for Wayne Enterprises to flat out acquire Powers Technology. As she'd put it, "I was already making all the decisions and having to countermand Derek through a shareholder's vote at every turn. This way I only have one set of paperwork to deal with, and I can focus on other things." Derek Powers had retained official authority over the departments that were part of Powers Tech, but he wasn't allowed to make any official policy decisions without clearing it higher up.
The second major change involved the McGinnis' boy, Terry. Rarity had continued to try to solve the mystery regarding him, but had nothing new to report. However, she had posited that she might learn more if she were able to observe Bruce and Terry interacting. Towards that end, on learning that Terry - as was normal for young boys - had an excess of energy, she had suggested to Warren and Mary that he might benefit from martial arts lessons. Since they had their hands full with Mary's pregnancy, Rarity had suggested that Terry join her in training with Bruce, since he could easily handle a second student. Once Warren and Mary had agreed, Bruce had been pleased to have another student to whom he could teach all the martial knowledge he had learned. He was glad that Rarity had shown no signs of jealousy there. If anything, she seemed even more interested as she watched Terry mimic Bruce's movements on the practice mats.
The third major change had been the increase in crime, especially with the formation of a gang calling themselves 'The Jokerz'. While they only engaged in vandalism and petty crime so far, the fact that they dressed up like and claimed to be acting in the traditions of The Joker was quite upsetting to Bruce, although at this point he refused to explain to Rarity why. As far as he was concerned, the less he talked specifics about his time as Batman, the less likely she would be to try and follow in his footsteps in that regard, and the better for her.
Having just turned 70 himself, he knew he was going to start to slow down before long, and the last thing he needed or wanted was to be stressed out over Rarity running around as a vigilante...or her doing so without him to watch over her. Still, she had started managing his diet to keep him in good shape, and the cane he now walked with was more aesthetic than necessity. That, and it had been left to him by Alfred, and had a very high quality sword concealed inside, just in case.
Today, he was training Terry once again. Rarity had excused herself from training earlier, saying she had something she needed to check on, and would be back shortly. Bruce had been distracted by how easily Terry was learning martial arts, and lost track of time until a device in his gym bag began giving off a rather loud alert.
"What's that, Mr. Wayne?" Terry asked. An enthusiastic eight-year-old, Rarity had had no trouble encouraging him to put his energy to assisting Bruce around the house during their training days to keep the aging man from straining himself unnecessarily. Bruce hadn't the heart to tell either youngster that, sometimes, their excessive youthful energy was more strain than doing things himself.
Walking over to the gym bag, he fished the device out and examined it, immediately seeing what the alarm was about. "It means it's time for you to go home, Terry."
"Aww!" Terry complained. He enjoyed training with Bruce, and when training ran late was often invited to join them for dinner. Bruce wasn't sure if it was the extra training or the elegant dinners Rarity prepared that Terry was more upset about missing out on.
"No complaints, Terry," Bruce chided. "You're here to learn discipline, amongst other things."
Terry sighed, then bowed respectfully to his teacher. "Yes, Sensei."
Bruce nodded. He pressed a button on the wall. "I've called up the robo-cab. Now go straight home."
"But I didn't get to say goodbye to Rarity," Terry pointed out. "She never came back."
"I'll give her your apologies," Bruce promised. "I'm going to check on her right now."
Guiding Terry out to his lift home, Bruce then went to check the source of the alarm. It quickly became clear what was going on. The entrance to the Batcave was open. Groaning, he climbed down the stairs, closing the entrance behind him and turning on the lights as he went. Reaching the bottom, he saw that the case for the last Bat Suit was open, and the suit was missing. Shaking his head in disappointment, he turned the computer system back on. Once it had powered up, he activated the suit communicator. "And just what do you think you're doing, Rarity?"
Rarity barely stifled a yelp as she pulled back into her hiding spot in the rafters of the building she had been scouting. "Father!" she hissed. "You have horrible timing!"
"Care to explain why you swiped the Bat suit, Rarity?" Bruce's voice came through the communicator.
"How did you find out so fast?" Rarity asked. "I'd run the scenarios, and I should have been out and back before your training with Terry was finished and you'd never have had to worry!"
"The suit displays have alarms that transmit to a device I carry with me at all times," Bruce replied, "just in case you tried something like this."
Rarity winced. "Touche."
"You didn't answer my question. Just what do you think you're doing?"
"What you trained and raised me to do, Father," Rarity replied. "Protect Gotham."
"...Explain."
"The Jokerz haven't been too much of a problem," Rarity began. "But recently, they began getting high power weapons to engage in more serious crimes. While this would normally only be of marginal interest, the weapons have Wayne Enterprises logos on them, marking them as being manufactured by our company."
"Wayne Enterprises has never manufactured weapons!" Bruce replied hotly.
"That I well know," Rarity replied. "As does Commissioner Gordon, which is why she's been keeping that part under wraps as the police investigate the situation...but I've begun an investigation of my own."
"What have you found out?"
"The weapons are being manufactured with Wayne Enterprises resources, but off the books...from the Powers Technologies part of the company." Her teeth gnashed. "Derek Powers has been arms dealing with the criminal element of Gotham City, and he's dragging our family name through the mud in the process. He thinks if he's able to disgrace us in public opinion, he'll be able to push the Board of Directors to make you retire before I'm old enough to take over the company, and then maneuver the company around until he can take control."
Bruce was silent for a time. "And you haven't reported all this to Barbara because...?"
"I have," Rarity replied. "Unfortunately, I don't have any proof that she can act on, and given she's quietly investigating into our family and our business, she can't just take my word for it."
"So you decided to take them down yourself?" Bruce replied, sounding disgusted.
"Please," Rarity replied. "I'd have been more than happy to just use an official internal company audit to smoke him out...except that would take two weeks, and I only have two days to prevent something horrible."
"What do you mean?" Bruce asked.
"Two days from now, there's a charity concert for the Widows and Orphans of Law Enforcement," Rarity explained. "Lots of money coming in, lots of young children and easy hostages...and lots of press. The Jokerz - under Powers' direction - intend to use the weapons marked with our company logo to attack the concert. That will put the gangs using weapons 'from Wayne Enterprises' on front page news. Whether or not anyone got hurt, that publicity could drastically damage the company...or a the very least, lay the path for Derek Powers - who cares more for the bottom line than for the people of the city - to make a power play. And if he'll go this far, what won't he do to make more money? For the sake of this city, he and the Jokerz have to be stopped now! And it must be by someone who has no official connection to the matter. ...Gotham needs its Dark Knight to return."
"Although I agree with your reasoning," Bruce replied after a time, "what makes you think I'll let you risk yourself to pull it off?"
Rarity smiled. "How would you stop me?"
"The suit has a remote shutdown circuitry and remote control functions."
Rarity chuckled. "Had , I'm afraid. See, I used my outfit manipulation spell to shape it to my frame-"
"And you think 'Batmare' won't be connected to the only unicorn in Gotham?"
"I don't intend to let anyone see anything but what I want them to see," Rarity replied primly. "My illusion spells may have been limited before...but the remote shutdown and control circuitry was cannibalized into magic amplification circuitry around my horn. Quite tingly."
Bruce was silent for a long while. "Nothing I say will convince you to come back, will it?"
"I guess I'm a little too much my father's daughter," Rarity replied lovingly.
Bruce sighed. "Be careful. I'm still going to spot you. I've already gained access to the local security cameras."
"Thank you Father." With that, Rarity returned to her position gazing in the window.
Seeing below her Derek Powers' agent beginning the weapons deal with the Jokerz, she decided to put her plan into action. Charging her horn, she called a bolt of lightning between to clouds up above and behind her, the peal of thunder instantly drawing attention as the flash created the classic bat silhouette.
"Batman?" one of the male Jokerz gasped in shock.
"Can't be!" another proclaimed. "He's dead!"
Smiling to herself, Rarity dropped from the window to the floor, wings spread from her forelegs to conceal her exact shape.
One of the Jokerz laughed. "No way that's Batman!" he proclaimed. "Way too small!"
"Must be some sort of Bat drone or something," one of the female Jokerz laughed. "Some new tool of the cops!"
"Take it out!" the leader proclaimed, cocking his new gun.
Rarity released her next spell. A wave of absolute darkness in the shape of a nightmarish bat spread from her body to cover the entire warehouse, plunging the Jokerz into darkness.
"This city...I protect it..." she growled, doing her best to make her voice gravely. "Time is no barrier...Death is no barrier...you defile my city...you answer to me!"
As she spoke, she warped around them with quick teleport spells, striking them in pressure points, disarming and disabling them. The overall act had left them in gibbering panic, many of them having dropped their weapons and starting to try and crawl away.
With one last warp, she pushed them all into a corner, and the darkness congealed into the image of a demonic bat. "Confess! " she growled.
They all screamed once in terror, and all of them began to open their mouths to babble out their crimes. In the instant their mouths opened, however, they all went perfectly still.
Dropping her illusion spells, Rarity breathed a sigh of relief. "Still a bit of an effort to maintain an illusion and teleport at the same time," she admitted.
"What did you do?" Bruce asked.
"I put their minds to sleep without informing their bodies," Rarity replied. "Useful spell." Calling up a Hoverbat, she used her telekinesis to pull the net down and bind the criminals up in it, storing the captured weapons in another net. "I've timed it well. It will wear off the moment these drones drop them off at the police station...and they'll eagerly confess every wrong doing they've ever committed to the police officers." The Hoverbat took off with its quarry.
Bruce was silent over the comms for a time. "Not bad for your first time under the cowl. A bit showy for my tastes, though."
"I was trying to conceal the fact that I was a unicorn and not a human or drone," Rarity pointed out.
"Still, you need to learn to conserve better. Your magic reserves are almost depleted."
"How did you know?" Rarity gasped, certain she'd been concealing the weariness and headache she'd been experiencing, sure signs she's pushed her magic too hard.
"Your suit's telling me. Now come on home, and we'll go over how you can improve for next time."
"Next time?" Rarity asked eagerly.
"You're right. Gotham needs its Dark Knight back. I'm too old, and nothing I say is going to convince you to stop. I might as well support you in it."
Smiling, Rarity took off with the jets attached to her hind hooves, using the wings under her forelegs to steer. Halfway home, though, she stopped to land atop an old church, bracing herself on all four hooves as she looked down at the city she was dedicating herself to protect.
It wouldn't be until much later, as lightning flashed again behind her, that she realized just how photogenic that pose had been.
"The entire population of Earth are morons! "
That shout at the breakfast table the following morning pulled Bruce's nose out of the financial times. Sighing, he set the paper down. He had been looking forward to a happy, peaceful day after last night. After discussing Rarity's performance wearing the Bat suit and how she'd managed to conceal her identity, they had decided to stay in and take it easy today. The day plan included a delicious breakfast, some board games, possibly a few hands of Poker, some healthy walks around the Wayne Estate, checking the news reports regarding the Jokerz Rarity had captured - they'd already heard of how things had gone with them at the police station - before listening to some classical music while reading together, ending the evening with a relaxing dinner. The goal of that plan was to let Rarity unwind from the excitement of wearing the suit, so that she could ease herself back into day to day activities and find a way to work donning the suit into her daily life without burning herself out. She was only 10, after all.
That uncharacteristic outburst, however, hitting just after Rarity had glanced through her news feed, made it plain that the relaxing plans had already hit a major stumbling block. She almost never used such insulting terms unless she was severely out of sorts or if she had a specific ire towards the person being described. Such a general statement indicated something had majorly upset her. "What makes you say that?" he asked calmly.
Rarity sighed, taking a deep breath to try and calm herself. "Just...just look at the front page," she said finally.
Confused, Bruce picked up the front page of the newspaper. He normally didn't read that until he'd finished reading the financial section. However, a single glance was all it took to show him part of what had upset Rarity. It was the massive composite photo and article that covered the entire top half of the front page.
Who Is Batmare?
Beneath that massive title was a picture that took up all but two columns of text worth of space, one on each side of the picture. The image was actually a composite. On the left was the last picture ever taken of Bruce As Batman. Standing tall and proud, looking out over the city from atop a church with lightning flashing overhead. On the right was Rarity as - as the news had dubbed her - Batmare, posed surprisingly enough on the exact same church on the other side of the cross. Given their respective positions, it was no wonder the one preparing the article couldn't resist putting the pictures together. They actually matched seamlessly, complete with the pattern of lightning flashing in the clouds. There was also a shadowy aura surrounding Rarity, looking not unlike she was just about to fade out of existence. The article spoke about the actions of this 'Batmare', her sudden appearance - as well as references to a dissertation on equine anatomy as to why the horse-like being in the suit could not be male or a gelding based on the captured image - and speculations on possible connections between Batmare and the long missing Batman, this sighting coming exactly ten years after the last Batman sighting.
Bruce sighed. "Well, I admit that it is bad luck that someone managed to take your picture as 'Batmare', it doesn't seem that anyone has connected that to you-"
"Look at the lower half of the page," Rarity groaned.
Curious now, Bruce flipped the paper over, seeing the other article taking up the entire rest of the front page.
Wayne Heiress Funds Veteran Support Group
It was an article about an event Bruce and Rarity had been to yesterday before Rarity's sojourn as Batmare. Having amassed quite a bit of personal funds and a large portfolio, Rarity had begun turning to her desires to clean up the city her family had loved, lived for, and died for. However, her awareness of Wayne Enterprises becoming a nation wide - and then global - company had led her to extend her eyes beyond the borders of the city. As such, the first such thing she had done was open a mutual fund specifically to fund a Veteran's Support Group in order to assist soldiers returned from wars in returning to normal lives, whether through therapy, financial aid, or state of the art prostheses. The event had been a fundraiser and charity auction in order to expand the reach the fund could work with. Since Rarity considered the issue quite serious, she and Bruce had been photographed with severe expressions on their faces. Standing as Rarity had been about to go give the speech she'd prepared.
"I don't see how this is relevant," Bruce began.
Sighing, Rarity slid her tablet across the table. Calling up the holographic image of the newspaper, she took the photo from the upper half and dragged it as a transparency over the one on the lower half. They lined up exactly, from positions to body shapes to facial structure...even to facial expressions.
Bruce blinked. "Okay, there's no way you're the only one to see that," he commented dryly.
"But I am!" Rarity complained. "I did a net search for any articles mentioning 'Batmare' and 'Rarity Wayne' in the same story, and the only one I found was a veteran being interviewed, who felt sorry for me because the appearance of Batmare stole my thunder on the front page of the news!" She threw her forelegs up in exasperation. "How can a civilization advance so far-" she gestured to the technologically advanced state of the city "-and still be so stupid? "
Bruce scratched his chin as he pondered Rarity's question. It didn't make sense. The main reason he had been concerned about her donning the Bat suit was because it would be too easy to connect a unicorn in a costume to the only known unicorn on the planet, and yet this was over and beyond that that there was no possible way that no one was seeing it short of... "...magic," he said aloud.
"Beg pardon?" Rarity asked. "Are you saying my magic is somehow protecting my identity?" She rolled her eyes. "Really, Father, my magic isn't that powerful, even with the amplification of the suit. The sheer amount of evidence pointing to me being Batmare is just too overwhelming for me to believe I somehow am countering it with an unintentional I'm Somebody Else spell."
"Not necessarily your magic," Bruce countered. "What you've brought up here got me thinking about all the methods myself and other superheroes used to keep our secret identities secret. Some were logical, some were thorough...but some were so ridiculous that - in hindsight after learning the secret identity - I couldn't believe I hadn't figured it out before. One good example: Superman used to hide his secret identity of Clark Kent just by putting on a pair of glasses when in civilian identity."
Rarity snorted. "How did no one see it was him every time his glasses fell off?"
"They didn't," Bruce replied. "And between that and this, I've been thinking...several ancient cultures had beliefs, rituals, and ceremonies surrounding masks. The idea of the use of the masks was that, in donning it, you became the entity the mask represented, leaving your normal identity behind. My own experience has since revealed that those ancient cultures had a great deal of powerful magic at their disposal. It could very well be that there's some sort of magic behind that concept of masks suppressing your true self, bound in the very weft of Earth's magical field...one that protects those who don masks - metaphorical or otherwise - to protect people."
Rarity blinked. "So, if you're right...then any superhero who creates a 'super' identity for themselves with which to protect others or fight crime, this magic would protect their civilian identity from backlash?"
"Save from those who learn of the identity, through one means or another," Bruce concluded. "Whether from seeing the identity revealed or being told what it is."
Rarity sat up in her chair, thinking about that. "An interesting hypothesis," she said finally. "Unfortunately, there's no real way to test it."
"But it does imply that as long as you're careful about anything that might draw a connection between you and Batmare as Batmare, your secret identity is safe."
Rarity breathed a sigh of relief. "That will be good news. Illusions of the level I used on the Jokerz really take it out of me."
"Well, we do have a relaxing day planned," Bruce pointed out.
Rarity raised an eyebrow. "So...we're just going to ignore this?" she asked, gesturing at the news article.
Bruce shrugged. "If it isn't causing any immediate problems, we can wait to address it until tomorrow." Reaching over, he gently caressed her ear. "You should be allowed some time to be a child, after all."
Rarity smiled at that, and returned to her food. After a time though, a question that had been bothering her forced its way out. "Father?"
"Yes Rarity?" Bruce asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
"When will I get to meet Richard Grayson?"
To his great credit, Bruce did not spit-take. "Where did you come across that name?"
"Wayne Enterprises records," Rarity explained. "If I understood correctly, isn't he my brother?"
Bruce sighed. "We...haven't spoken in a long time. We had...a disagreement."
"You and Richard?" Rarity asked pointedly. "Or Batman and Robin?"
Surprisingly enough, Bruce smiled. "You are quite the detective, aren't you?" he praised. "A little of both, I admit. We haven't spoken since well before he got married. I was invited to his wedding, but...I didn't go."
"Perhaps it's time for you to extend an invitation to reconcile, then?" Rarity suggested archly.
Bruce sighed, knowing that with this on his mind he would get no relaxation this day.
Author's Note
A little forwarning regarding the next chapter: only what is shown in the cartoons will be considered for canon regarding this story...and not just Batman Beyond. However, since I do not recall ever seeing Dick Grayson make an appearance in Batman Beyond, don't be surprised if how he appears is drastically different from what you expect.
Bruce had spent a long time thinking about Rarity's words. From the moment he tucked her in after their relaxing day together, he had sat in his chair before the fire, thinking on those words. The reason he couldn't get past them was because of one crucial detail that gnawed at him until he was eventually forced to face it.
She was right.
In hindsight, it became plain that everything that had driven a wedge in his relationship with Richard could be derived from his own unyielding stubbornness. The decisions he made that affected Richard - made without consulting him - had driven him to go solo as Robin. His choice to put being Batman before being Bruce Wayne had prevented a civilian reconciliation. His own pride had kept him from trying to patch things up. And then putting Batman before Bruce had meant he wasn't even there when Richard - the man he claimed to call son - was married. He had done this to himself, and if he wanted to fix things, he would have to swallow his pride and admit it.
Even coming to this conclusion, it was still very difficult to do so. When he was finally forced to be Batman alone, his pride had been one of the few things to keep him going, and it was hard to let it go. But time and again Rarity had taken an ax to the pillar of his pride, cutting it away and forcing him to confront reality...and each time, his life had improved for it. For her sake, he could do what was right over what was easy. It had been easy to be Batman, despite the strain on his body and his life. Being Bruce was hard.
Thinking that, he realized the one reason he had to call Richard. When solo as Robin - and later as Nightwing - Richard had managed to balance a normal life with his heroing, without sacrificing anything to either. In fact, it was through his acts as Robin - ignoring Bruce's own rule of preserving the secret identity - that he had made many of his closest friends and met and romanced his wife. If there was anyone who could teach Rarity how to be Batmare without losing Rarity, it would be Richard.
As he reached for the phone, Bruce marveled at how easy it was to do the difficult things when he rationalized them as being a good parent. He wouldn't disappoint his own folks by doing badly there, whatever the personal cost. As he dialed the number, he wondered how things would have been different if he'd made that realization 45 years ago, when he first adopted Richard.
The phone rang for a time, and a sleepy female voice answered. "Grayson residence, Mrs. Grayson speaking."
"Hello Mrs. Grayson," Bruce replied. "Is Richard in?"
"He is," she replied. "Who is this?"
"It's Bruce. Can I talk to-"
A gasp interrupted him, and he heard her eager voice away from the phone. "Dear husband, wake up! On the telephone, it is your k'norfka!"
Bruce couldn't help but smile as he heard that. It seemed even after all this time she still slipped into her native tongue on occasion...or perhaps she just felt no word in English as accurately described his and Richard's relationship as that one did.
It plainly made his identity clear to Richard. "Bruce?" he asked as he grabbed the phone. "What makes you call at this hour?"
"Sorry for waking you," Bruce replied. "I know it's late. It's just...I felt it was time to try and patch things up between us."
There was silence on the other end for a while. "Really? Wow. I mean...what brought this on?"
Bruce sighed. "Let's just say something's come up that...has made me realize what a fool I've been for a large part of my life. And...I'd like to try and fix my mistakes if I still can. Is there any chance you could swing by the manor sometime soon? I think this should be a face to face discussion, don't you?"
The silence from the other end was profound, and Bruce actually heard a pin dropping from a nightstand onto carpet. "We'll be there tomorrow...Dad."
Bruce's eyebrows went up at that response from Richard, but he decided not to question it at the moment. "Thank you...son. I look forward to seeing you again. For now, I think we both need our sleep. Get some rest; it's a long trip here."
"You too," Richard replied, his voice thick with suppressed emotions.
As Bruce hung up the phone, he wondered what could have caused that reaction in Richard. However, the warmth of the fire and the relief of accomplishment worked its magic on him, and in leaning back to think he instead found himself dozing off.
When Rarity awoke the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the sense of Bruce's presence in the study before the fire, instead of in his bed. She sighed in frustration. "Father, you can't push yourself like this..." Getting to her hooves, she went to check on him, only to find him sound asleep. She smiled softly. Shaking her head ruefully, she levitated the blanket in his lap up to tuck it around his chin.
At that moment, the security system bleeped, signifying someone with proper clearance had driven up the driveway and was approaching the door. As the only one Rarity was aware of who had proper clearance were the McGinnis's, she went to the door to inform Terry that Bruce was feeling under the weather this morning. However, when she opened the door, she found five people completely unfamiliar to her.
The one raising his hand to knock was human, an older man with healthy skin tone, black hair just beginning to go white at the edges, and friendly but piercing blue eyes. She felt immediately that he was one who could be counted on for just about anything.
Next to him was a woman with orange skin, crimson hair, and green eyes. She also looked to be about half the age(1) of the first man, whose arm she was holding in a manner that plainly indicated they were a couple. Rarity was able to conclude that the woman was a non-human. Not only were her eyes a solid green - pupil, iris, and cornea merely shading from dark to light green - but she was also floating a half foot off the ground. However, her face bespoke an open friendliness that made Rarity feel warm just to see.
The second man was tall and lean, and his skin had a slight greenish tinge to it. He also had sharply pointed ears. Rarity got the impression he must have looked like a goblin when he was younger before he grew into his looks. He also looked no older than 25(2), but his green eyes bore a deep wisdom and experience, belied by the openly friendly smile on his face rivaled only by the alien woman's, slight fangs visible in upper and lower jaw.
The second woman was moon pale, with pale purple hair and dark purple eyes. Her hair was cut short, and she looked like she hadn't changed physically since her 20th birthday(3). Like the green man she stood near, though, her eyes bespoke an ancient and powerful wisdom and great experience. Her face was neutral, but the aura of magical power Rarity could feel from her was overpowering, ancient and terrible yet strangely gentle. Shuddering slightly, Rarity turned her attention to the last man.
His skin was far darker than any of his companions, and he was much taller. Despite his bald crown, he also seemed not to have aged for a long time(4). However, Rarity quickly realized why this was in his case. More than half the skin she could see had the slight sheen she recognized as plastiskin, and his left eye was solid red, obviously cybernetic. From the amount of plastiskin visible, it was plain a large portion of his body was cybernetic...which was frankly fascinating. The way the group stood together implied they were the same age group, which meant his cybernetics were plainly at least 40 years old. She didn't know cybernetics had been that advanced back then.
Realizing she was staring, she quickly recovered and smiled at them all. "Welcome to Wayne Manor," she said calmly. "Can I help you?"
The man who was going to knock stared at her for a time before clearing his throat. Holding his quietly squealing female companion back, he responded. "We're here to see Bruce," he said calmly.
Rarity sighed. "I'm afraid Father has not yet awakened today. He had a-"
"Father?" the man asked in surprise.
The alien woman squealed loudly and swooped down on Rarity. Her training kicked in, and she focused her magic through her horn and then back into her body, toughening against whatever was about to happen. She soon became glad this included resistance to compression.
"Oh Richard, you have a new little sister and she is adorable !" the woman shouted happily.
As soon as the hug relaxed enough she could release her magic, Rarity turned to the man. "Richard? Richard Grayson?"
"That's me," he replied easily.
"Oh, it is wonderful to meet you!" she said happily, hopping down from the woman's embrace. "Please, do come in. But be quiet, Father fell asleep in the study-"
"Too late, Rarity," Bruce said, stepping out of the study. "Kori's quite loud at times." His soft smile took the sting from his words.
The woman who'd hugged Rarity blushed in embarrassment. "My apologies," she said softly, settling to the ground.
"Please, come in," Bruce said calmly. "We can talk in the study."
"I'll prepare some tea!" Rarity said happily, rushing to the kitchen.
Bruce chuckled indulgently. As he sat down in the study, he found himself under magical scrutiny. "Is that really necessary, Rachel?"
"At the moment, it's Dr. Roth," she replied bluntly. After a moment, she let go of her magic. "Although apparently, it was just Richard overreacting again, and the urgency to get here today was an illusion, since you aren't dying as far as my magic can tell."
"Blunt as always," Bruce commented dryly before turning to Richard. "You thought I was dying?"
"With how you were talking about fixing past mistakes, can you really blame me for thinking that?" Richard protested defensively.
Bruce thought about that for a minute. "Not really. If not for Rarity, that's probably the only thing that might have budged me." He turned to the other two men. "So tell me Garfield, Victor...did you two come along to be Richard's emotional support if I was dying?"
"That's just the grass stain!" Victor replied, earning a blown raspberry from Garfield. "I'm actually here just in case you needed help getting your affairs in order. I'm not the best lawyer in the country for nothing."
"If we're all done making me feel like an idiot," Richard joked, getting a laugh from the other four. "So what did spark this, Bruce?"
Bruce chuckled. "Two reasons. One, Rarity browbeat me into introducing her to her big brother, saying it was my turn to extend the olive branch."
Raven snorted mildly in amusement. "I take it she has her ways of getting what she wants?"
Bruce smiled. "Indeed she does. As for the second...I'm actually glad you all came." This piqued all their interests. "She's decided to follow in my footsteps, and take on a role I'm physically no longer capable of fulfilling." Looking at Raven, he touched a finger to his heart.
Raven raised an eyebrow. "So she's Batmare now, huh?"
"Indeed," Bruce replied, "despite my wishes to the contrary." Richard looked surprised at this. "I didn't want her to have to live the life I did. I wanted her to have a normal life. Or, at any rate, as normal a life as she can have when she's the only unicorn in a world of humans." That brought a chuckle from Garfield. "But you five managed it."
"Managed what?" Kori asked in confusion.
"You five managed being heroes and living normal lives, without sacrificing either. You even managed to live normal lives as superheroes while you lived in your Tower." Bruce leaned back with a sigh. "I want Rarity to have the benefit of your experience, Richard. Please, help her live a normal life."
After a time, Richard smiled softly. "All you had to do was ask...Dad."
Bruce returned the soft smile. "Thank you...son."
At that moment, Rarity returned with refreshments for everyone. "I hope I guessed everyone's tastes correctly," she stated nervously. She then set out the tray with Earl Grey tea for herself, Richard, and Bruce, a strong herbal blend for Garfield and Rachel, black coffee for Victor, and a bottle of mustard with a straw for Kori.
The alien female gasped happily. "However did you know of my fondness for the wonderful mustard beverage, little pony sister-in-law?"
Rarity smiled. "A lucky guess, I suppose." She climbed into her chair and levitated her tea to her lips. "So what brings you all here today, Richard?"
Richard smiled softly. "My friends call me Dick."
Rarity frowned. "I think I'll call you Richard. I shouldn't be tasting one of those on my lips at my age."
Richard groaned as Garfield and Victor cracked up laughing. "Good one!" Garfield crowed.
Rachel groaned. "Just when I thought you'd finally grown up..."
Richard shook his head ruefully as he sipped his tea. "Sis...we've got some stories to tell you."
"Oh?"
Richard held his cup, staring into its swirling depths. "It all begins the day I decided to take my own path separate from Dad's...and found my way to Jump City..."
(1)Obviously, aliens who are able to generate radioactive energy blasts from their body would age differently from humans...especially when they haven't used them for a long time. (2)Self rewriting genetic code plus being part all animals - when several age incredibly slowly - means visible aging is really a matter of personal choice. (3)Hey, that heritage has to have some benefits. (4)I don't think this one needs explaining.
The Benefits of Experience
After a time of hearing all the stories the former Titans could pass on to her, Rarity found herself in awe of the former heroes and everything they'd faced off against. The sheer scope of the responsibility they'd taken on protecting the entire world - and forming a world wide organization to do just that - was humbling. She found that, more than anything, she wanted to live up to the heroic legacy she seemed to be inheriting from so many directions. Wanting to prove herself, she had asked if the Titans would train her. After exchanging glances, they had agreed.
It had been Richard who suggested they start with seeing just how much she was currently capable of. He disallowed himself, as he was the least in shape of the Titans - having suffered the most from the ravages of time - and that there was little in terms of standard combat he could teach her that Bruce couldn't, and probably hadn't. Instead, Richard agreed to sit with Bruce and observe the training combat, analyzing Rarity's prowess and how she stacked up against opponents far more experienced.
However, as they adjourned to the training arena in the Batcave, she noticed only three opponents arrayed before her. She turned to the last person on the sidelines. "Miss Roth? Will you not also be testing me?"
"I've already got a sense of your magical potential," Rachel replied curtly. "While the suit is boosting your power, at your current level most of what I could teach you won't be useful to you. And I won't be fighting you." She closed her eyes, inhaled, then exhaled before opening them again. "My magic has drawn enough blood in my lifetime. I will not use it to do anything but heal anymore."
Rarity nodded. "Very well. I quite understand, though I hope you'll deign to teach me to heal with magic, beyond what little I've figured out."
Rachel smiled. "That would be a pleasure."
Smiling in return, Rarity pulled the hood of the suit back over her face, once more becoming Batmare. "So who will be my first opponent?" she asked, the suit distorting her voice.
Starfire floated up, once more in the combat attire she had worn as a teen...although it fit her mature adult body a great deal more tightly than it did back then. "I will be your first training opponent, Batmare," she proclaimed proudly, energy gathering in her hands and the gems of her half-gauntlets.
"We've arranged the available opponents in order of expected difficulty," Richard called from the sidelines. "Thus you'll be facing Starfire first, and Changeling last."
Rarity turned to glance to where Cyborg - having removed his plastiskin for combat - sat next to Changeling. "I had thought Cyborg might be the hardest foe," she muttered.
Cyborg and Changeling both chuckled. "You'll see," Rachel commented with a smirk.
"Each fight will last until one of the combatants are defeated, or three minutes into the match," Bruce stated calmly. "After the fight, you'll have the option of combat analysis, or immediately progressing to the next match."
"I will be holding back the full force of my starbolts," Starfire reassured everyone. "While they will still hit with great force, it will not be the full force of radiation energy I am able to generate and focus."
"You don't need to worry about that, Star," Rachel replied. "Even outside the suit she was able to focus her magic back into her body to increase her durability in order to withstand the compression of your excited hug. Between the further amplification of her magic and protections her suit provides, she should be able to handle your full force."
Rarity gulped as Starfire grinned widely. "Oh joy! It has been so long since I could cut the loosing!"
"You mean cut loose," Garfield absently corrected.
"That too!" Starfire agreed, raising her hands as green energy coalesced around them, lightning sparking inside the green spheres.
As the spheres launched, Rarity's body seemed to blur into shadows, flowing across the arena and out of range of the explosion before solidifying. All the spectators sat up in interest at that. Starfire, however, grinned even more eagerly, diving down to deliver a crushing blow that left a crater in the floor of the arena.
Rarity barely managed to dodge the blow by blurring into shadows again. This time, however, she seemed to blur through Starfire, who flinched back, her muscles jerking as though she'd briefly been electrocuted. When she flew back up for another aerial assault, Rarity solidified above and behind Starfire, falling down behind her. As she dragged the tip of her horn down Starfire's spine, she discharged an electrical current.
Starfire's body jerked, and she fell. She landed heavily on the ground as Rarity blurred into shadows again to land lightly beside her. "Miss Roth, I believe she will require your attention," she said gently.
Rachel was already rushing to Starfire's side, her hands glowing with blue light. "And this is why I said I didn't have anything to teach you," she said, laying her hands on Starfire's spine.
"What happened?" Richard asked, concerned.
"She left an electrical charge all along Starfire's spine, disrupting the nerve signals flowing along it, inflicting temporary full body paralysis," Rachel replied. "Her entire voluntary musculature shut down with the signals going out of whack...and because of how she shaped the magic, the involuntary systems were completely unaffected. Not an easy thing to pull off, but Starfire got overconfident when she was told she could cut loose."
A few moments later, Starfire sat up, smiling. "It has been some time since I have been so soundly beaten," she told Rarity. "Well done. Also, what was that you did with the shadows? It felt like lightning through my body."
"Phase shifting," Rachel explained. "I don't know where she picked it up. It's a side discipline to teleportation. By shifting her phase variance, she enters a physical energy state in which the normal laws of physics don't entirely apply. This lets her ignore the conservation of momentum and limits on her speed. Given her penchant towards ninjitsu, I'd say this was an amplified 'shadow step' technique, as used by those ninjas who amplified their skills with the mystical arts. One of the side effects of phasing through objects is the discharge of electrical energy into the object. On unempowered individuals, it would probably be enough to knock them out instantly. Those like us who are empowered, or who have had intense training, would be able to resist it for a time."
Rarity smiled softly. "I read some of the scrolls Father keeps down here," she explained modestly. "They were quite enlightening."
Cyborg chuckled at her word play. "Guess it's my turn, huh?" he asked, one hand converting into his sonic cannon. Rachel helped Starfire to the sidelines.
"Indeed," Rarity replied.
"Begin!" Bruce called, starting the timer.
Cyborg opened strong, using his Sonic Cannon to release a wave burst, trying to catch Rarity with an area of effect attack. However, Rarity used a brief magical energy shield to block it before charging forward. Putting his cannon away, Cyborg drew a sonic energy sword from his other arm and raced to meet her charge.
As he swung, however, she phase shifted through him. Cyborg grinned at her. "Electrical attacks won't work on my hardened circuitry!" he bragged. He tried to turn, but his joints locked up. "What the?"
"How about a magical computer virus?" Rarity offered. "After doing a bit of work with some computers, I realized some criminals I face may use some form of technological enhancement. So I did some research and found a way to write a computer program as a spell form. I left a magical computer virus in your systems as I phased through you. The cybernetics of your body are currently unable to interpret the signals from the positronic parts of your brain. It is, however, designed not to interfere with the involuntary ones, much like what I did to Starfire. The version I used on you, however, has a self termination cycle. It should be dissipating right about now."
Cyborg chuckled as he regained control of his body, putting his weapons away. "Well, it's pretty obvious I lost that one." Walking up to her, he held out his closed fist. "Come on, gimme a hoofbump!"
Rolling her eyes, Rarity bumped her hoof against Cyborg's fist. "Good match."
Changeling chuckled. "Seems like I'm the only one who's going to give her a real challenge," he said, standing up.
Rarity took in his appearance more clearly. He was very leanly muscled, and there didn't seem to be so much as an ounce of fat anywhere on his body. He was also nearly as tall as Cyborg, though quite thin. He wore black, tight fitting pants and a black jacket. Both pants and jacket looked like leather, but Rarity could sense they were of some other material. He also went barefoot. "Shall we so what you can do?" she asked softly.
Changeling smirked back. "Come at me then."
"Begin!" Bruce called.
Rarity began to circle, watching Changeling. However, he remained perfectly still, relaxed, almost uninterested. After a few seconds, Rarity phase shifted again, intending to come in with a magic amplified kick to his side.
The instant she solidified, Changeling blurred forward, his whole body expanding and changing shape as a clawed fist struck her hard in the gut, sending her flying across the arena. Landing on all fours, she stared up at Changeling's altered form.
For a moment, she thought she was staring at the Beast of Disney fame, except green. However, the lack of horns quickly divested her of that notion. The rest of the resemblance was uncanny, however...save that every inch of this Beast was made for battle, as though someone had cherry picked all the best combat traits for a bipedal mammal and fused them together into an organic battle machine.
Changeling lunged forward fast, faster than Rarity could track with her eyes. Thankfully, she was able to leap back in time to dodge getting hit. She attempted to fire a magical shot at his chest, but his entire body retracted into the other hand as a green bat dove at her face before morphing into an anaconda.
Rarity managed to avoid getting bound by phase shifting, but only had time to lunge to the side as the anaconda morphed into a dragon and exhaled an intense blast of green fire that would have singed her tail if it weren't kept completely inside the suit. She then was forced to leap into the air as he shifted into something round and spikey to attempt to roll over her with crushing force.
As she came down for a landing for an attempted sneak attack, he instantly shifted back to his natural form, catching her right in the gut with a hard kick. Rolling backwards, she suddenly found herself pinned by a roc's talons.
Changeling paused there, plainly expecting her to yield. He obviously did not expect her to phase shift through the extended limb, aiming right for his brain. He was able to reshape himself away from that, rolling away on the edge of a tortoise shell before regaining his feet and form.
Both of them circled now, plainly put on guard by the intensity of the fight. Rarity was breathing heavily, her face focused. Changeling, however, was grinning from ear to ear, plainly having the time of his life.
Changeling broke the face off first. Lunging forward as a cheetah, he brought both gorilla fists down hard enough to shatter the ground. Rarity was barely able to dodge, and for the rest of the three minutes passed rapidly. Changeling's form became very fluid, never staying entirely one animal and never holding shape for more than a few seconds at a time. Rarity spent most of her time either phase shifted or shielded. She was plainly giving it her all...but just as plainly fully on the defensive.
"Time!" Richard suddenly called.
Changeling froze, halfway between the forms of a hydra and a rhinoceros. Chuckling, he shifted back to his humanoid form. "That was fun!" he said happily, stretching. "Can't wait to see what you can do when you're old enough to join the League."
"League?" Rarity asked in confusion as she caught her breath.
"The Justice League," he replied. "I've got two jobs: one as a veterinarian, the other as a trainer for new members of the Justice League. As I got more and more skilled, my powers actually reached the point where the League banned me from day-to-day vigilante heroism. I'm not even allowed to step in for anything short of a war, be it civil, international, or interplanetary."
Rarity managed a chuckle. "No wonder I wasn't able to beat you," she murmured as Rachel went over her with her magic. "Though I was hoping after I beat Starfire and Cyborg to pull a Titan hat trick."
Changeling chuckled. "Rarity, the day you beat me is the day you get full membership in the League, skipping your probationary period. That's actually standard regs." He laughed. "Of course, there's only two members of the League I haven't beaten or fought to a draw."
"Who?" Rarity asked eagerly.
He smiled widely. "One is Superman. I just couldn't match his raw power output." Grinning, he reched down and pet her head between the bat ears of her mask. "The other is the last one to wear this suit."
Rarity gasped in awe, turning to look up worshipfully at her father.
Rachel stepped close to Garfield. "You planning on telling her that you and Bruce never actually fought before he retired?"
"Not a chance," Garfield said quickly, smirking at how Rarity was looking at her father.
Rarity sighed as she laid her paper down after reading the news regarding the events of last night. "Sabotage again," she sighed, sipping her tea. "Another one of the companies we're working with on that lunar mission suffered a major 'accident'."
Bruce chewed on a mouthful of lightly seasoned egg whites. "What makes you think it's sabotage?" he asked. Not that he disagreed with her assessment, but he was always testing her thought process, pushing her to be more and more effective.
"The frequency, regularity, and severity of these 'accidents', Father," Rarity explained. "Each time we contract a new company to work with for this government assignment, within three days they suffer a catastrophic accident in the division of their business working on the project, and we're forced to cancel the contract and continue work on our own. One might think someone was trying to indirectly sabotage us, except that we've kept on schedule with the project despite losing partners in the project." She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Of course, this does mean Wayne Enterprises ends up with more of the government project."
"Except that the lunar mission project is being worked on in the Powers Industries divisions," Bruce pointed out. "One might say it's Powers getting the larger slice of the pie."
Rarity frowned. "He would see it that way, wouldn't he?" she growled. "I keep trying to beat it into his head that it's better for the economy to have several large companies in civilized, respectable competition while also willing to cooperate, but he still can't seem to stand seeing others success rival or surpass his own." She shook her head. "Still, he does seem expert at making sure things don't trace back to him. He escaped blame regarding his involvement with the Jokerz a little too easily."
"Do you have a plan, then?" Bruce asked.
Rarity shrugged her shoulders. "About the only thing I can do is find someone else willing to take the risk of these 'accidents', and then stake them out in the hopes of catching the saboteur."
Bruce nodded. "I'll be on the comms. Be careful."
Rarity smiled sweetly. "Aren't I always, Father?"
Later that night, Batmare stood watch over Foxtech's R&D facility, keeping an eye out for anyone making trouble. She had a bit more of an advantage than most vigilantes would have in this situation, as she had laid alarm magics around the building the whole day during the tour before signing the contract, set to call her attention to anything that was out of the ordinary.
When a sequence of her magics alerted her, tracking the entrance of a possible saboteur, she made her move to intercept. Entering the control chamber from the other side, her alarm spell drew her attention to what looked like a flowing shadow as she 'shadow stepped' into the room. "Well well," she mused aloud, the suit disguising her voice, "it seems I'm not dealing with a run of the mill criminal. So...metamorph or magic user, hmm?" With that statement, she lunged forward, striking with her hooves at the moving shadow.
The shape reared back, briefly taking on a roughly humanoid form, stretched out like a badly drawn person with only a white dot for a face. "Quick on the uptake, aren't you?" a distorted female voice said before the limbs stretched out to slash at Batmare.
The masked filly dodged between the slashes, using a combination of swaying body movements, side steps, and shadow steps when necessary. "Metamorph, hmm?" she mused. "Let's see what type." Charging her horn, she sent an arc of lightning at her opponent.
The figure swayed out of the way, the lightning striking a nearby control panel. "Yikes!" the distorted voice came again.
"Oops!" Batmare murmured as the control panel started sparking, having been damaged by the lightning. She then immediately shadow stepped aside as her opponent attempted to take advantage of her distraction. Seeking a distraction of her own, she flung a nearby coffee cup left behind by a worker at the perpetrator, who dodged away from the cup as though it were filled with acid. "Can't say I'm fond of coffee myself," she murmured. "Or...or is it water that frightens you so?" She quickly sent a lightning bolt into the sprinkler.
As the sprinklers kicked in, spraying water all over, her opponent hissed, the water making her shape bubble and steam as she spun to flee as best she could, diving through a window before racing away, vanishing under vehicles in traffic. Rarity managed to glide to where her inky opponent had splashed once before reaching traffic. Finding a small puddle of black ooze, she collected it for analysis back at the cave. Once in the air, she spoke over the comms. "So, any idea what that was?"
"You're right that it was some sort of metamorph," Bruce replied. "We'll know more once we analyze that sample you're bringing back."
"It's why I collected it," she mused, increasing velocity. "But don't we have a faster way for me to get around the city than jet boots?"
"I'm still modifying the air Batmobile for hoof use," Bruce explained. "Besides, I'd rather not put you behind that wheel until you at least have a driver's license." When she didn't respond right away, he continued, "Pouting doesn't work over a radio." They shared a chuckle as Rarity returned to the cave.
"So what have you learned from the analysis, Father?" Rarity asked after changing out of the Bat suit, showering, and grooming herself to be once more immaculate. She figured restoring personal comfort after the exertion would give Bruce plenty of time to analyze and research the sample.
"I've determined the identity of your opponent based on available data," he replied, calling up an Interpol file. "Her name is Inque. She's a metamorph, the result of a bio-engineering experiment. She's able to reshape her body in various ways, though not nearly to the extent of Changeling." Bruce smirked. "Considering how many times you challenged him after that first bout, I'm not surprised she posed little challenge to you."
"She used different techniques than he did, though," Rarity pointed out. "She also seemed vulnerable to both water and electricity. What else is known about her?"
"Not much, I'm afraid," Bruce admitted. "Not even a picture. I'm afraid we won't find much, given the security we're dealing with."
Rarity rubbed her chin. "Maybe...maybe not." Pulling a box out from under the desk, she opened it up, revealing a helmet shaped to her head and horn, with several data input/output jacks for connecting to the computer system.
"What's this?" Bruce asked in interest. "Isn't that the package Victor dropped off?"
"Indeed," Rarity smiled proudly. "The basic idea was mine, but Victor and Rachel worked on it together. I'd noticed when going through the old files that most individuals who enhanced their natural capabilities used either magic, biological agents, or technology. However, those who used magic tended to spurn technology completely, and vice versa...but magic and technology can counteract each other quite effectively. So I wondered...since my suit already uses technology to amplify my magical output, what other technology could be built based on that to utilize magic. In short...magitek." She slipped the helmet on, starting to connect it to the computer.
"And what does this one do?" Bruce asked in interest, examining the workings.
"Well, all computer systems have some sort of security to resist hacking," Rarity explained. "However, Victor mentioned that when he sent his mind into a network, he was able to find holes in security that simply weren't visible when hacking through a keyboard. Also, magic is able to supersede quite a few technological defenses." She patted the helmet. "This helmet channels an astral projection spell I looked up into a database enchephalon dive, allowing me to magically, mentally enter the information networks and find the information I need."
Bruce grinned. "Impressive," he murmured. "Is that all they've developed for you?"
"It's the only one that's complete so far," she admitted. "But they're working on others. Switching on." Her eyes glowed with a white light as information began blazing across the computer screen.
Bruce sat back, watching his daughter at work. "...and I thought I had cool toys in my heyday," he mused at last.
Two nights later, armed with the information she had gathered, two new spells she had researched from some of Rachel's old spell books, and a day's worth of preparations, Rarity once more staked out Foxtech. She was certain that Inque would attack again. She was not disappointed, spying the shadowy criminal before too long. She immediately swooped down for battle.
Inque, for her part, was rather surprised to be caught again so soon. "You just don't give up, do you?"
"Of all the applications for talents such as yours, you resort to petty sabotage and crime for the highest bidder?" Batmare demanded. "How disappointing, Inque."
Inque chuckled. "You did your research," she replied, quickly engaging in battle. "...Batmare."
"It seems I'm not the only one who did their research," Batmare replied, quickly firing off a burst of ice.
Inque evaded, her face dot widening in surprise as the truck hit by the blast froze solid. "And you aren't messing around," she growled. She lunged forward, aiming a killing strike.
Rarity smirked internally as she shadow stepped out of the way. Using occasional bursts of magic to keep Inque's attention, she began leading her opponent into the ambush she'd prepared, where power cables were wrapped around four lampposts.
"For all your bravado, you certainly seem eager to run," Inque mused as she flowed into the center of the square after Batmare. "What happened to your courage?"
"What happened to your sense?" Batmare replied, releasing her first new spell. Lightning leaped between the four lampposts, flowing along the power cables before arcing between them, creating a very dangerous lightning cage, trapping Inque.
The shadowy female cursed, flinching back from the lightning. She turned towards the ground.
"Don't bother," Rarity replied. "A thin layer of dirt over a solid steel plate that goes all the way out to the edges of the cage. That layer of dirt is also the only thing keeping you from being electrocuted."
Inque snarled defiance. "So now what? Turn me over to Interpol? Send me to prison?"
"Actually, I thought I'd address my point earlier," Batmare stated. "Specifically, my disappointment in your choice of career path, given your talents."
Inque snorted. "You're going to try to reform me? Oh give me a break-"
"I'd rather give Deanna Clay her mother back," Batmare interrupted.
Inque froze stock still. "How...how do you know that name?"
Batmare smirked. "A bit of creative research tracked down every crime where you were suspected as the perpetrator, who profited most from it, and a common account number that linked them all. From there, I tracked regular deposits to a trust fund in the name of Deanna Clay...and the details weren't hard to piece together after that. Of course, it was all speculation...until you reacted. Now, I would so hate to have to bring that information to Interpol. Even if they couldn't prove anything, the investigations would likely freeze that account, and Deanna's trust fund..."
Inque sighed, lowering her arms. Her body shifted, eventually settling in the image of a young woman with blue skin and hair, most of her body covered in inky black. "Don't...don't involve her, okay? I'll come quietly-"
Batmare blurred into a shadow step, phasing through Inque, leaving behind a brief electric shock. "Good," she said as the cage shut down.
Inque saw the opportunity and tried to shift away...but nothing happened. "W-what did you do to me?" she demanded.
"I was combat trained by Changeling of the Justice League," Batmare explained. "When I repeatedly lost to him, I researched ways to deal with metamorphs like him. Nothing that could handle one of his skill and power...but the spell currently on you locks you in your current form, feeding on the energy your body generates that allows metamorphosis to sustain the spell. You're free to go."
Inque stared, completely confused. "What? You take away my power, and just...let me go? What's your goal here?"
Batmare stared her down. "I stated my goal quite clearly earlier...I want to give Deanna Clay her mother back. Money alone does not give love, nor a loving home. Go to her, Inque. Reconnect with her. She's still young, not yet ten. You have time yet to repair the relationship and actually be a mother...and a good amount of money of your own to start up a life together before she needs her trust fund."
Inque staggered back, completely flummoxed. "But...but how will I manage that? A lawyer to get custody back would drain what's left in my account...and I'd need a job..."
"As I said," Batmare replied, "a woman of your talents can do much more with your life. And...you didn't hear it from me, but I believe I know someone who would be happy to help you with many of those problems..."
The next day, Rarity sat back in her office in the Wayne Enterprises building, having slowly taken more and more responsibility from Bruce's shoulders under the fiction of 'on the job training'. More and more, matters came to her rather than Bruce, and the employees had come to rely on her quite a bit.
The intercom buzzed. "A Miss Ink Clay to see you, Miss Wayne."
Rarity smiled happily. "Send her right in," she said over the intercom, pleased to see her night's work had succeeded where Bruce had doubted. He wouldn't have done what she did last night, even had he been able to back when he wore the cloak.
But Rarity wore the mask now. She had her own priorities. It wasn't just the city she wanted to save...
Rarity sighed heavily as she came back from a rather exhausting patrol around the city. While not particularly difficult as she didn't spot any criminal activities, she'd felt compelled to keep scouring more and more. There seemed to be an odd ringing in her ears, and she felt convinced that there was something she was missing somehow. Unable to find anything despite her best efforts, though, she eventually returned home shortly before sunrise. "Ugh," she grumbled to herself. "Today is not going to be a good day. Wish Father had been staying home today. It would have been nice to be able to talk to him while patrolling to pass the time. He might even have been able to give me some hints as to what that weird feeling meant." Shaking her head, she discarded the suit before climbing the stairs to the main house.
Entering the main house, she saw the alert that someone with clearance to come and go at will was approaching the house. Quickly shutting the Bat cave entrance, she headed towards the front hall, pausing at a mirror to primp herself briefly and don the sundress she'd left behind when she'd gone to be Batmare the previous night.
Just as she reached the front door, it swung open. "Lucias?" she asked in shock, recognizing the Vice President of Wayne-Powers. "Aren't you early? Is something the matter at the office? Your son's company? I'm afraid Father didn't come home last night after he went out to walk in old memories..."
"Rarity," Lucias interrupted, "Bruce has been in a terrible accident. He's in the hospital as we speak."
Rarity gasped loudly. "Take me to him immediately!" she cried out. She raced towards Lucias' car in a panic.
At the hospital, Rarity was allowed to breathe a sigh of relief. Bruce's accident hadn't been as bad as she had been led to believe by Lucias' panic. While the car was wrecked - practically broken in two - getting only the state of the art security measures had paid off, and Bruce had only been banged about a little bit, and left dazed after the front half of the vehicle had wrapped itself around a tree. His heart condition hadn't acted up either.
"Thank goodness he's alright," Rarity told the duty nurse, her relief palpable.
"Would you like to go in and see him?" the nurse asked.
"Immediately," Rarity asserted.
Following the directions she was given, she heard her father's voice raised in a shout. "Not a chance!"
"Mr. Wayne," a nurse was trying to calm him, "you need to take it-"
"Get out!" That shout was accompanied by a flung bedpan which Rarity instinctively caught in her telekinesis.
The bedpan was followed by a rather harried looking nurse. "You can go in now, if you dare," she groaned.
Chuckling, Rarity entered. "Well, someone's chipper," Rarity teased.
"Rarity!" Bruce said eagerly. "Thank goodness. They want to keep me overnight for observation! You can make them let me sign myself out-"
"You know, you've been trying to teach me discipline and self control for years," she interrupted smoothly. She levitated the bedpan to where he could see it. "After this nearly hit me, I have to wonder what's happened to yours?"
Bruce winced. "Touche," he said dryly. "So are you going to get me out of here?"
"But of course, Father," Rarity said sweetly, inwardly pleased at the frown that instantly crossed his face. He knew her too well. "Just as soon as I'm absolutely certain you're 100% and have suffered no real damage from your accident."
Bruce sighed as he lay back in the bed. "You're going to insist I stay overnight for observation? Even though I'm just fine?"
Rarity smiled warmly. "And when's the last time you got to tell me, 'I told you so'?"
Bruce managed a smirk. "I look forward to this time."
"I'll fill in for you at the company, Father," she promised.
"You already mostly do anyway," he replied proudly, causing her to blush with pleasure.
After running the company all day, Rarity decided to skip patrol that day, hoping to be fully rested when it came time to bring Bruce home. She even called a few friends of the family to help him settle back in, just in case he got ornery about the plans she'd put in place to let him take his ease after the accident. However, she encountered an unexpected hurdle at the hospital.
"What do you mean he's been transferred to the psychiatric ward?" she demanded in a rage.
"According to the reports, he was found by an open window in the middle of the night after screaming loudly," the nurse explained. "He complained of hearing voices, and when the nurses attempted to help him back to bed, he threw one of them across the room. When the orderlies attempted to restrain him, he severely injured two before he was sedated. He's been restrained, and-"
"Where did you move him to?" Rarity demanded angrily.
"I'm afraid you can't see him until-"
Rarity slammed her hooves down on the counter hard enough it cracked. Her horn glowed, yanking the poor nurse up to the counter by her lapel. "Let's briefly overlook the fact that, as his next of kin, you can't legally prevent me from seeing him, especially as you are a general hospital and not one specializing in the treatment of mental patients, and instead focus on the fact that I'm an angry, multi-trillionaire heiress Daddy's Girl who won't hesitate to sue this hospital in general and you specifically if you do not tell me where my father is this instant! "
"Room MW137!" the nurse replied instantly, her voice full of fear.
Rarity immediately released her. "Thank you. Terribly sorry about that show of temper. I hope you can forgive me." She turned and headed into the hospital.
The nurse shook violently as she caught her breath. She had been ordered not to give out Bruce Wayne's room number, and not to allow any visitors. The reasons given had made sense at the time. But Rarity had been right about the legalities of the situation.
Besides, when that filly had stared into her eyes with barely contained rage, those blue eyes had seemed to shift somehow. For the moment, there had been something almost...predatory about the gaze, and the nurse had been filled with inexplicable fear above and beyond what the situation should have caused.
It had been like staring into the face of a living nightmare...
"I'm sorry, Miss Wayne," the doctor said, blocking her way to room MW137, "but I can't let you in to see him just now. We've had to sedate and restrain him, but because of his good physical condition despite his age, we can't be sure either will keep him under control. I can't in good conscience allow someone as young as you inside." Truthfully, the reason he wasn't letting her in was because he had been bribed anonymously to keep Bruce in the Mental Ward - and incommunicado - after he had his apparent mental break. He had been in a bit of a financial crisis at the time, and had taken the generous bribe. He hadn't expected to have to deny next of kin, but backed by two heavy set orderlies, he was certain he could handle this, and that the little unicorn would back down.
Rarity sat down as she stared up at the doctor. "Doctor, there are three ways this can go. Option one, you can let me into my father's room immediately, as you are legally obligated to do as I am his next of kin."
"As I've explained-" the doctor began.
"Option two, I will remain right here in this spot until Father's personal physician, our family attorney, and our company's press secretary arrive, and then you can explain to the family lawyer on live broadcast why you are denying my Father contact with both his next of kin and his legal counsel," she interrupted. "They're already on their way, as they're also friends of the family who I called to help me bring him home this morning, and I've already told them they may be needed in their official capacity instead." Rarity was bluffing about the press secretary, but the doctor didn't need to know that. Besides, her personal physician and trainer could easily act the part if he put his mind to it.
The doctor paled, not having expected such firm and well organized opposition. "And...the third option?"
Rarity's horn glowed. A matching glow surrounded the door to the room, and it began to groan. "Option three, I rip the door to my father's hospital room from its hinges, and use it to beat any other obstacles to seeing my father into submission! "
One of the orderlies, apparently not being anywhere near as brave as the doctor or his fellow worker, quickly palmed the door open and pushed the doctor aside. "Go right in, Miss."
"Thank you," Rarity replied sweetly. "See how much better things are when we are civilized?" She entered the room, slamming the door shut behind her.
"Rarity!" Bruce cried. "I saw your magic. Quick, someone is-"
"Zut!" she chided. "Lay back now."
Surprised at her sudden insistence, Bruce lay back on the bed.
Rarity hopped up onto the bed, laying herself down beside him. With her magic, she undid the restraints. "Now, in a calm, controlled voice, tell me about these voices."
"Not voices," Bruce replied, Rarity's own calm suffusing him. "One voice. Telling me to kill myself. It's not from my own psyche."
"You are certain?" Rarity asked.
He nodded. "It's-"
Rarity put her hoof to his lips. "No more. We'll wait until our friends get here. For now, just relax, and tell me if you hear anything else, and exactly what you hear."
Bruce sighed as he lay back. "Alright."
They remained like that in silence for a time, Bruce taking comfort both from Rarity's presence and from knowing she believed him. After a time, the door opened again. Victor, Rachel, and Garfield stepped in.
"Mr. Stone," Rarity greeted gravely. "Dr. Roth, Dr. Logan. Good of you all to come so soon."
Victor sat down. "I understood my clients were in something of a bind?" he asked, a mischievous gleam in his human eye.
Garfield gently lifted Rarity from the bed, holding her in his lap. "Rae needs some room to work," he explained.
Rachel approached Bruce and began examining him with her magic. "A few bumps and bruises," she said as she went over him. "Some bruising on the muscles. Minor concussion..." She paused over the bandage on his forehead. "Minor concussion, but no injury under this bandage...but there are electronics."
Bruce immediately ripped the bandage from him to examine the electronics. "A transmitter of some sort," he growled. Rarity pulled the bandage from his grasp, floating it over to her as she pulled her special glasses out and examined the electronics through them. Bruce noticed the chain of beads the glasses were held by had gotten quite a bit longer, wrapped tight to hang close to her neck. "Any ideas?" he asked.
"Oh, I know exactly where this tech came from," Rarity mused. "And I'll deal with it."
"I'll let the doctors here know what's really going on and get Bruce's release," Rachel said, standing up and heading out to go give the doctor a piece of her mind.
"Victor, Garfield, can you get father home?" she asked. "I'd like to deal with this immediately."
"Sure thing," Victor agreed. "I'll take care of him."
"Thank you." Climbing back onto the bed, Rarity leaned in to give her father a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you when I get home, Father," she promised.
"Mr. Shreeve to see you now," Rarity's secretary said into the intercom. "You can go right in," she told him.
Walter swallowed nervously. He wasn't sure why Rarity Wayne was calling him into her office. While it was common knowledge around the company that Rarity was the new CEO in all but title, and that only until she came of age, he'd only reported to Derek Powers since his company had been bought out after going bankrupt. And given what Mr. Powers had insisted he do, Walter was in no hurry to be called to the young Wayne's attention.
Entering the office, he noticed that the room was quite dark, the metal blinds shut tight. As soon as the door swung shut behind it, it locked tight and he could hear the sounds of sound dampening technology kicking in. Most wouldn't have noticed, but sound was his specialty.
The office was lit only by candles and a strange device on the desk that was emanating a blue aura. The only other detail he managed to catch was the strange shiny quality of the purple roof before his eyes fell on something that stopped all thought.
On the center of the desk was a bandage...the one with his transmitter embedded in it.
Rarity smiled up at him from her chair. "Mr. Shreeve, would you care to explain why your transmitter was in a bandage on my father's head while he was in the hospital, emitting a voice only he could hear to make him look like he'd suffered a psychotic break?"
Walter paled. "Umm...uhh..."
"Perhaps we should begin by explaining this device on my desk," she offered. "It's a localized electromagnetic jammer. While it's on like this, no electronic device within its range will function. And you already heard the sound dampeners kick in, so you know our conversation is just between us. Now...shall we begin with Derek Powers strongarming you?"
"You...you know about that?" Walter gasped, falling into a chair.
"It would be best if you started off assuming I know just about everything," Rarity purred, "and that your fate depends on you having something I don't know to show your value."
Walter's resistance crumbled. "He said he wanted returns on the technology I'd developed, and he gave me a way to do it. I'd managed to partially perfect my sound based demolitions technology, and he ordered me to use it to kill Bruce Wayne. I didn't want to do that, so I deliberately made it look like I'd tried and failed. When that didn't work, he said he was going to fire me and keep my patents as property of Wayne-Powers. I...I suggested the possibility of keeping Bruce out of the way by making him look crazy. He liked that idea, said that if he could get Bruce removed from his position as head of the company, you'd have to be placed in Richard Grayson's custodianship as your only other living relative, which meant you'd have to leave Gotham, at which point he could easily manipulate matters with the Board of Directors and the stockholders to get him named the new CEO."
Rarity sighed. "I really shouldn't be surprised at this point," she admitted. "Still...can you actually get sound manipulation controlled enough to turn it into a weapon?"
Walter gulped. "I can...show you the prototype suit."
Rarity waved her hoof dismissively. "Not me. Tell Lucias I've transferred you to the Special R&D department under his direct supervision. I look forward to seeing what you make for our company."
Walter stared in amazement. "You mean...I'm not fired? I'm not going to jail?"
"Not today," Rarity replied calmly. "Do good work, and likely not ever. Don't disappoint me."
Walter got up. "Y-you won't regret this!" he promised fervently, his knees weak with relief. He staggered out of the office, helped to the elevator by the secretary.
The door locked again. "Don't you think you're trusting him too easily?" an echoing voice asked Rarity.
"Trust must start somewhere," Rarity explained. "As a child of the Waynes, I believe people deserve a second chance."
"And if he stabs you in the back?" the voice asked again.
"Well isn't that your job to stop now?" she asked, turning her eyes to the ceiling.
A white circle swung around to focus on her. "I still think you're a little too trusting of me," Inque replied.
"You have earned that trust," Rarity replied. "Not to mention your place here, with all the good you've done for our company."
After Inque had worked as a security consultant for a few months and shown that she was dedicated - both to her new life and to being Deanna's mother - Rarity had removed the spell that blocked her shape shifting. Inque now used her abilities for the benefit of the company in a legal way, backing the security detail and assisting with those jobs that required minute detail work. She had also helped the company make excellent connections when her services had been loaned out to 'the government alphabet brigade', as Rarity had dubbed them.
Thinking of all this, Rarity smiled. "And how is Deanna?"
"In school just now," Inque replied warmly. "I'll be heading over to pick her up soon, but I have time to keep an eye on Shreeve for you first."
"My thanks," Rarity replied warmly.
She sat back as she watched Inque flow out of the office as the door unlocked again, heading back to her tasks. As the office door closed, Rarity sighed happily. Once it was locked again, she pulled out a small crystal ball. "Rachel," she spoke into it, "what's the report on the tracking spell you placed on Miss Clay for me?"
Trust did have to start somewhere...but Rarity wasn't just a child of the Wayne's. She was also Batman's daughter.
Rarity glanced over Bruce's shoulder at the news broadcast. "So what's this 'splicing' they're talking about?" she asked curiously.
"It's a relatively new science," Bruce explained. "Originally it was developed as a medical treatment, using animal based gene re-sequencing to correct genetic disorders, especially those that result in physical weakness or immunodeficiency. It was only in very small amounts when used medically, however, never enough to cause a visible physical change."
"Those changes sure seem visible," Rarity murmured as she stared at the teenagers who had apparently been spliced with vampire bat DNA, amongst other things, to look straight out of a bad vampire romance novel. "All they need is the sparkles and they'd complete the absurdity."
Bruce chuckled at that. "More recently, Dr. Cuvier has been promoting a new use of the technique, using animal DNA to rewrite larger portions of the subjects genetic code. At first it was only small things that were visibly different. The subject might end up with a leopard's spots, a tiger's stripes, a cat's teeth, a wolf's ears and tail..." He tapped out a sequence to call up other images. "Now, however, he's building towards even more total splicing techniques, completely altering the physical form-"
"Ooh!" Rarity squealed as she spotted one girl who'd been spliced with a skunk, the white stripe against black fur over parts of her body making quite the statement. "Now that's a fashion statement. I wouldn't mind having that dress in my wardrobe."
"It's not a dress, Rarity," Bruce scolded. "It's actual fur growing from her body."
Rarity winced. "That's...a bit far to go for fashion."
"It's no mere fashion trend," Bruce commented dryly. "Something sinister is going on there, and I fear it's a mess we'll have to clean up."
"I'm certain we can handle it," Rarity reassured him, petting Ace. "Besides, Sam Young is already pushing for it to be made illegal. Those independent studies make it plain how dangerous it is."
"The law can only do so much where the criminal or revolutionary mindset is concerned," Bruce warned. "When all is said and done, Sam Young is only a DA. There were those like him decades ago, but Gotham still needed Batman."
Rarity smiled reassuringly. "And that's why it has Batmare now," she preened. "How about I go investigate his new institute tonight, hmm?"
Bruce frowned down at her in worry. She had only just turned 13 recently, and had been getting more and more into being Batmare. While at first Bruce had feared for her safety and her life being overrun by the mask as his had, truly dangerous criminals didn't show up very often these days, and those that had shown up now all worked for Wayne-Powers as part of the security force.
The name change to the company had actually been a stroke of genius on Rarity's part, although it didn't seem that way at the time. Powers had an inherent craving for power and wealth, and would use whatever means at his disposal to acquire it. With the implication of partial ownership, he had the influence to seek out those in the criminal element who could be recruited for corporate espionage or sabotage. Derek's actual influence, however, was much less than even he knew, and Rarity was able to act - whether as Miss Wayne or as Batmare - to counteract each of Powers' stratagems before they were implemented, turning him into little more than a dowsing rod for professional criminals. And on top of that, Rarity kept a record of every single attempt with which to eventually purge Powers' effectiveness entirely.
Still, those years of easy successes had made Rarity a trifle overconfident. She had never come across a villain she couldn't either reform or overpower with ease. She had yet to face a true Joker, or other villain of his past, that would truly imperil her. He feared Dr. Cuvier - and his advantage of animal empowered fighters - might just prove to be that threat.
Despite all this, he knew he wouldn't be able to convince Rarity not to go. Sighing, he relented. "Alright," he allowed. "You can go investigate. But be careful. Observation only, no combat."
Rarity pouted. "But Father, with my magic-"
"Observation only," he insisted. "No combat."
She sighed. "Alright," she relented. "I might as well test out the suit's cloaking features."
Rarity slowly walked down from the ceiling of the inner room of the Chimera Institute, having snuck in quietly while cloaked. She quickly spotted Dr. Cuvier - a tall, thin, pale skinned man with thin black hair and piercing yellow eyes against a black cornea - in a deep conversation with three spliced underlings: a large, heavily muscled, dark skinned male with ram horns; a thin, bald, green skinned male covered in scales like a snake; and a lithe, dark skinned female with claws, tiger stripes, and a flat nose.
While Rarity briefly noticed the tiger female sniffing the air, she was distracted as she heard Dr. Cuvier state that they would be forcing the splicer revolution against the 'norms'...by taking out DA Sam Young tonight. "Father!" she whispered into the comms, "I can't just stay and observe! They're going to-" She paused, noticing someone missing. "Where'd the Tigress go-"
A powerful kick to the small of her back caught her completely off guard, knocking her into some power cables. As electricity ran through her body and suit, her back arched as the electricity followed the magic amplification circuitry straight into her horn, and from there straight into her brain. As she lost all awareness, the last two things she was aware of was Bruce calling out to her over the comms...and something deep inside of her stirring.
When Rarity started to regain consciousness, she felt something injected into her shoulder. "W-what did you inject me with?" she demanded, struggling against the bonds she found herself in.
"Something I'd prepared especially for you, Batmare," Dr. Cuvier replied easily. "I had a feeling you'd be sticking your hoof in our business, and I have been wondering how the process would work on a non-human like yourself. Though I admit I was hoping to convince Rarity Wayne to try the process. Having such a prominent member of society accept the treatment would have been very good for my cause. Splicing her DNA with Bruce Wayne's human DNA might have appealed to her..."
Rarity started to open her mouth to reply, but felt something flare forth inside her to shoulder her aside. "You really don't know what you're doing, do you little man?" a voice that both was and was not her own echoed from her mouth.
"What?" Cuvier demanded. "That shouldn't be-"
Batmare shadow stepped out of the bindings with ease, taking shape behind Cuvier. "Oh, how I would love to take the time to instruct you...but for now, I must say I'm rather fond of your gift, as it heralds my return somewhat." Dark purple bat wings erupted from her back, folding majestically around her frame.
Cuvier staggered back in surprise, before lunging forward to try and contain her. "The process shouldn't be that fast, even with your small frame! And it shouldn't-"
Batmare batted him aside easily with a magic enhanced hoof, one of his claws breaking off in her suit. "You are a scientist, you foolish man," Batmare replied with a wicked chuckle. "Even this one doesn't fully understand the consequences of mixing science with magic, and she thinks she came up with the idea!" She suddenly sneered. "However, it appears her will is a bit stronger than it once was. How tiresome. It appears I'll have to deal with you later. For now, I must - ugh - save that human." Batmare suddenly dissolved into a swarm of bats that flowed out through a window they shattered as they passed.
Cuvier stared at the broken window. "I think I may be in over my head," he muttered.
Barbara Gordon struggled in Rarmod's grip, trying to break free as the trio of spliced thugs laughed at her and Sam Young's desperate struggles. As King Cobra began to squeeze - following Ramrod's suggestion of breaking the DA in half - the skylight burst open as a swarm of bats descended, knocking all three splicers about the room.
"What children these foolish mortals be," a wicked voice echoed from the cloud of bats after Sam Young was knocked unconscious. "Come little boys and girl, I shall play with you." The cloud of bats coalesced, and Batmare stood before them...but she was quite different.
The suit had changed from black to a very dark purple to match the bat wings that had sprung from her back. The crimson bat symbol had morphed towards the demonic, and her eyes were visible behind the mask...turquoise corneas, sapphire irises, and slit pupils. As she smiled, a mouthful of razor sharp teeth became visible.
"What the hell?" Ramrod gasped, lowering his head in the hope his horns would protect him.
"What have you got against us?" King Cobra demanded as he contorted his body, hoping to evade whatever strikes came his way.
"You aren't a norm!" Tigress proclaimed. "You aren't even human!"
Batmare 'tsk'ed quietly in her throat. "Oh, you shouldn't have said that," she scolded. "I would have just captured you...but now she doesn't like you very much, so I have a bit more leeway." Her horn flared into light.
All three splicers found themselves seized in their magic and flung about the room, smashing into walls until they were unconscious and badly bruised.
Barbara stepped forward. "Batmare!" she called out, getting a hand on the mare's neck. Seeing she was the only civilian conscious, she whispered, "Rarity-"
Batmare hissed, pushing Barbara back with her magic. "Do not touch me, mortal!" she commanded. "And Rarity is not in command just now." She suddenly winced. "Though her will is far stronger than it should be...stronger even than the Princess's was in the beginning...too strong. Fine, I won't kill them!" This last did not seem directed at Barbara.
Batmare's horn glowed, and something red was drawn out of the three splicers in a mist before dispersing into the air. Right before Barbara's eyes, they reverted to ordinary humans.
"I believe I can leave them in your hands now, Commissioner," she mused. "The police are at least that effective, aren't they?" Batmare then vanished in a swarm of bats, leaving a stupefied police commissioner.
In the Bat Cave, Bruce was startled as a swarm of magically charged bats coalesced in front of him into the costumed and altered form of his equine daughter. "I truly despise you right now," she growled.
Bruce faced her calmly, one arm holding Ace back with his cane, the other casually reaching towards the antimutagen. "You aren't Rarity," he said bluntly. "So who are you?"
The figure chuckled wickedly. "Well, well, no wonder she's changed so much since I last manifested. You are unusual for a mortal." She smiled, baring her fangs. "I am one who once controlled this body temporarily, though situations have...changed things. You may call me the Nightmare."
"Are you controlling her now?" Bruce demanded angrily.
"And that is why I don't like you very much," she growled. "Even when I should be in total control like right now, I can't go against her morals. You've rubbed off on her too much; her will is far too strong for me to bend or break. As much as it pains me, I will have to compromise with her, because I'm now bound to her irrevocably because of how that Doctor's science melded with the bit of my magic inside her." She sighed. "When she regains consciousness and you've examined her to your heart's content, tell her to summon me to her consciousness so we may bargain with the phrase, 'The Night falls, The Mare rises'."
Bruce nodded. "Alright." He didn't know what was really going on, but when magic of this level was involved, he knew better than to try to force whatever it was out of Rarity until he knew more.
The Nightmare smiled. "Very well then. Pleasant dreams."
Batmare fell over onto her side, the coloration of her costume returning to normal as her bat wings turned white. Bruce rushed over and caught her as she fell, and Ace nuzzled her side. After a time, Rarity stirred.
"Father?" she asked. "How did I get back here?" Blinking, she stared at her back as she felt muscles flex. "And why do I have bat wings?"
Bruce sighed. This was going to be a long conversation. He privately hoped Jason would still take his calls...
As Bruce continued Rarity's physical examination, Rarity became more and more perturbed. "Father, what's happened to me?" she demanded petulantly.
"Not now, Rarity," he replied, continuing to scan her new wings with the computer, as well as analyzing the mouth swab he'd taken with the genetic scanner.
"Father, where did these wings come from?" she demanded. "The last thing I remember is blacking out after Dr. Cuvier injected me with something-"
"Rarity, be patient," Bruce scolded. "I need to concentrate." He began running more scans over her limbs, her horn, and even using some of the diagnostic magitek Victor and Rachel had sent to scan her magical aura.
"Father!" Rarity whined. "Right now it's taking all my self control not to freak out! I need answers!"
Bruce turned to face her. "Rarity, all I know for sure is that right now something is going on, with your magic, with your mind...for all I know, with your very soul. Your magic is driven by thought. Right now, incomplete information is more dangerous to you than no information. So please, be patient until I have all the information I can give you."
Blinking, Rarity nodded. "I'll try, Father," she promised.
After that, Bruce continued his examination in silence. When he finished, he turned to face her. "Alright, I think I can explain some of what's happened to you. I want to give you as much information as I can before you seek the rest of the answers. I'm not entirely sure the one who has them can be trusted." As Rarity opened her mouth to question, Bruce held up his hand to silence her. "We'll get to that." When she nodded, he sat back, arranging his thoughts.
"When you were kicked into the power lines, your suit electrified. As a result of the circuitry that amplifies your magic, that electricity was channeled straight down your horn and into your brain." Bruce frowned. "That's a rather glaring weakness for your suit, as a single intense electrical attack will disable you in any fight, and a sufficiently intense one could permanently cripple you. Unfortunately, not only can we not do anything about that - without that amplification, your magic isn't strong enough for combat, and you're too small to be able to act against most human opponents without it - but it has already rendered your horn sensitive - and somewhat vulnerable - to electrical current. You'll need to watch out for it in the future.
"Dr. Cuvier injected you with what for your body weight was an overdose of vampire bat serum," Bruce continued. "Normally, this would result in a mutation that would include physical alterations including bat wings and a mouthful of fangs, as well as uncontrollable rage that would render you nearly mindless." He patted a gun nearby. "On the off chance something like this might happen, I'd prepared a dose of antimutagen, altered to be based on your DNA rather than human."
Rarity raised an eyebrow. "How is it you knew how to prepare such antimutagen? And why did you have to alter the base from human?"
Bruce smirked. "The reason I feared splicing would make a mess we'd have to clean up is because it wouldn't be the first such mess a Bat had to clean up...and I had to use the antimutagen on myself a time or two."
"I see," Rarity observed. "But then why do I still have wings?"
"The splicing didn't work as intended with you," Bruce explained. "Your magical and genetic aura accepted and incorporated the vampire bat strain, making it a part of you. As a result, you didn't even get the extra aggression the process normally creates. I have a few theories as to why, but no real evidence..."
Rarity smiled. "Given how little information you have on unicorns - and my variety of unicorn in particular - I would wager based on how smoothly it was incorporated from what I can see of the display that my species comes in multiple forms - not all unicorn - with a common genetic anchor which allows crossbreeding, and that one variety naturally had bat wings." She glanced back over her shoulder as she spread her new wings. "That's really the only explanation as to why they came in looking so...regal and elegant." She fanned her wings, momentarily distracted with how the dim light of the cavern refracted through the thin membrane into a monochromatic rainbow on the floor.
Bruce nodded. "That speculation is as viable as any. However...that's not all that happened."
Rarity turned away from her wings as she folded them to her sides. "This is where you're going to explain why I don't remember the wings coming in, amongst other things?"
Bruce nodded. "Apparently, the combination of the lightning through the core of your mind and magic, plus the injection of bat serum...awoke something. There's...another being inside of you. She's the one I brought up who probably has the answers we need, the one who I don't think can be trusted...especially as all I know about her for sure is that she's egocentric, dislikes being thwarted, and calls herself the Nightmare."
Rarity giggled. "No wonder you don't like her, Father," she joked. "She sounds just like you."
Bruce gave her a pained look.
"Just teasing," Rarity simpered at him. "I know this is serious...but the fact that I am in control now implies I have some sort of leverage over her, so it's not the end of the world yet."
Bruce sighed. "She did say your will was too strong for her to control you completely," he explained. He then grinned. "She blames me for that."
"I'm my Father's daughter, after all," the filly bragged. "From both sides of his being."
Bruce nodded. "Well, I've prepped you as best I can. She said you can call her to your mind with the phrase, 'When night falls, the Mare Rises'."
Rarity chuckled. "Someone has a flair for the dramatic," she murmured. "When night falls, the Mare Rises." Her vision went white.
She found herself standing inside a building, small from her experience...though everything inside seemed sized to someone of her stature...or at least an adult of her stature. The carpet was pale purple, expanding in circles that alternated with paler purple. Pinkish purple curtains hung from several walls, surrounding circular mirrors. a golden platform stood in the center of the room, surrounded by mirrors. Nearby the platform was a mannequin similar to the ones she'd designed to hang her day to day outfits from, which stood in her room in Wayne Manor. A gorgeous pink, purple, and gold dress studded with gemstones adorned the mannequin.
"You really don't remember this place, do you?" an unexpected voice asked.
Rarity spun. On the golden platform, she saw a darker reflection of herself. The eyes were black slits in sapphire irises, surrounded by pale blue corneas. The coat was dark purple, and the mark on her flank was three bright blue stars surrounded by a field of small white ones. The mane and tail were ethereal, flowing around the filly in a field of purple speckled with stars, a single white streak running through each. The horn was also longer and sharper than Rarity's own. Dark purple bat wings were folded against her sides.
"...Nightmare, I presume?" Rarity spoke up.
Nightmare admired herself in the mirrors, spreading her wings. "I must admit, I look much better in your body than the one I was born from. While intimidating, black was never a good color for anything but striking fear. This dark purple...much better for the things I've come to enjoy. And these wings!" She admired her wings anew. "I'll really have to thank Dr. Cuvier for them before breaking him in half. Membrane is so much better for the look I'm going for than feathers. So much easier to clean, too, and the difference in lift generation is minuscule when the magic shoulders most of the burden, anyway."
Rarity chuckled, having admired herself in the mirror often enough to recognize her own streak of vanity when she saw it. "What is this place? I know it's my mindscape, but why does it look like this?"
Nightmare turned to stare at her. "Truly? You recollect this place not at all?" She slipped into a more archaic speech pattern with a slight smirk on her face, as though internally laughing at a private joke.
"It...it is familiar, but..." Rarity's voice trailed off as she glanced around. "I just can't quite place it. Is...is it a clothing store?" She glanced out the windows, but there was nothing beyond them to see but stars.
"Hmm..." Nightmare mused. "Things are more different than I thought. No wonder the old anchors...never mind. Come with me." Nightmare stepped down from the platform and led the way through the building to a table where high tea had been prepared. "We have much to discuss."
Rarity took a seat at the table, sipping the tea. "Quite delicious," she murmured, "but I don't recognize the flavor..."
Nightmare smiled sadly. She then refocused her face. "Have you figured out who and what I am?"
Rarity thought for a time. "As best as I'm able to determine...you're some sort of mordant beast. At some point, you were a part of an entity, but were forcibly separated somehow to become your own being. The exceptionally dark color scheme seems to point to you being a sort of 'negative twin', especially what you said about once being pure black." She took another sip of tea. "But whoever you were once a part of, you weren't their evil side...just an amalgamation of all their negative emotions that eventually became its own personality. Somehow you were forcibly extracted from that person...and now you're part of me somehow."
Nightmare's smile was wide and devious. "While I can't say I like how much stronger your will is, I must say I love the other changes. He has done an excellent job training you." Nightmare wriggled and seemed to flex. A dark aura expanded off her into ether, and Rarity felt her reaching out to touch the corners of her mind. "There's so much more to work with here."
"So Father's right about me being reverse aged somehow, then?" Rarity asked incisively.
Nightmare chuckled. "Naughty, naughty...you've been peeking at his files. What would he say?"
Rarity chuckled. "He'd probably be torn between irritation at my invading his privacy and pride that I was able to hack his security."
Nightmare's laugh was full-throated. "Oh, you are a fun one now." Her grin returned. "But I'm afraid I'm not going to answer any of those questions just now. You'll do better as you are if you leave those mysteries unanswered just now."
"You don't really expect me to actually do so, do you?" Rarity asked pointedly.
"Not really," Nightmare replied. "But don't expect me to help until the time is right."
"Fair enough," Rarity allowed. "Now...what do you want?"
"Straight to the point, hmm? Good." Nightmare took a sip from her own teacup. "Ah, a taste of home."
"If you don't want me pursuing those mysteries, why offer tidbits like that?" Rarity inquired.
"Because I enjoy watching you squirm," Nightmare explained. "As you said, I'm a mordant beast; the negative half of a soul forged into its own being. I'm little different from a demon reveling in torture, save torture's not really my thing. I much prefer battles, whether of swords or wits." She leaned back. "But as to my wants...
"We're stuck sharing this body. Now that I'm active, I want to be able to do things, or at least be able to make some of the decisions or interact with others. But I can't just wrest control from you. However, if I fight against you, you'll have trouble maintaining control." Nightmare smiled. "What does that suggest to you?"
"You want to draw up terms for us to share control of my body?" Rarity asked archly.
"At the moment, it's our body," Nightmare corrected. "You're the one who originally let me in, both before and now when you let me out."
"It wasn't exactly my choice to get kicked into-"
"That just broke the cage," Nightmare corrected. "The first time you opened the door to me was the first day you donned the suit." She smiled slowly. "I feed on fear. It's in my nature to instill it. When you chose to be Batmare, whether you knew it or not you chose to make me a part of you again, albeit in a different way."
Rarity sighed, taking another sip of tea. "Very well. What sort of control do you want?"
"Right off the bat, I have no interest in being a Wayne," Nightmare replied curtly. "Bruce has my grudging respect, but I'm not cut out for civilian life. Batmare's much more my scene."
"I don't think an all but demon who feeds on fear is the protector Gotham needs," Rarity pointed out.
"I admit I'm not much of a protector," Nightmare agreed. "Nor do I really care for redemption. It's not exactly my cup of tea. But not all foes you face will be redeemable. Those are the ones I want to fight."
"And who decides who can be redeemed and who cannot?" Rarity demanded archly.
Nightmare's grin was outright devilish. "Why, you, of course. After all...Batmare is the protector Gotham needs."
Rarity blanched at that. The idea that she would be responsible for deciding who this...this demon would be unleashed upon. "That's...that's a lot of responsibility."
"No more than you willingly took on when you first donned the mask," Nightmare pointed out.
Rarity took a few calming breaths. "True. And...that's all you want?"
"Not entirely," Nightmare pointed out. "I want to be able to observe - and comment - on your life as you live it. I've been caged for most of my existence, so I at least want to be able to make commentary."
Rarity frowned. Having this being commenting at any time during her daily life could be quite problematic. "How about a compromise there?" she offered. "If you don't pose commentary while I'm talking to someone or while someone is talking to me, then I'll share control of my mouth when we're only around people who know about you - like Father and a few others I'll tell - so you don't have to take complete control to speak with them. How does that sound?"
Nightmare sipped her tea as she contemplated this. "I suppose I can accept those terms. More convenient for both of us that way."
Rarity nodded. "Just one more detail to cover," she brought up. "When you're in control as Batmare...kill only when there is no other option available."
Nightmare sighed. "While killing isn't exactly something that appeals to me, either, I understand the insistence. I shall restrain myself, and try to avoid breaking the mortals. However, I ask one thing in return."
"And what might that be?" Rarity asked.
"Dr. Cuvier made all this possible from my end," Nightmare pointed out. "I'd like to thank him...properly and personally, in this new role."
Rarity thought about that. "I suppose that's appropriate. I'll track him down, and once I'm sure the 'firing line' is clear, as long as you don't kill him, he's all yours."
Nightmare grinned. "Then we are of accord. I already have a method by which I will relinquish the body back to you...and this is how you can summon me." Nightmare implanted the conjuration in Rarity's psyche.
"Hmm, rather evocative," Rarity admitted. "But why the rhyme?"
Nightmare smiled sadly. "In memory of someone I once knew who was...rather fun during the time between becoming my own entity and being bound to you," she explained.
"Very well," Rarity replied. "I can understand the need for such sentiment." The mindscape faded to equal parts white and black.
Rarity was once more in the Batcave, blinking her eyes a bit. "Well?" Bruce asked her.
"It's all settled," Rarity replied. "I'll explain everything after I've dealt with Cuvier."
"And how do you plan to find him?" Bruce inquired.
Smiling, Rarity levitated the claw stuck in her hoof. "How good is Ace's nose?"
Finding herself outside the broken down taxidermy building, Batmare cast a quick spell over the place. There was only the one life sign. "Alright Ace," she commanded. "Go home now. I'll be back soon." Ace whimpered complete. "Go. Now." Turning, Ace obeyed the command and headed for home.
So is it my turn now? Nightmare inquired.
"Not quite," Rarity murmured. She wriggled. "I need to figure out how to make this costume comfortable over the wings," she muttered to herself as she made her way in.
Inside, she spied Cuvier hiding out, alongside a large box of splicer vials.
Now?
Rarity smiled. "Gone, begone, child of light! Now you face the Darkest Night!"
As the chant echoed around the building, causing Cuvier to jerk in surprise, dark magic swirled around Rarity. The moon - which had been half full - suddenly went dark, only the faint ring of a Lunar Eclipse visible. When the dark magic unfolded around her form, Nightmare had taken her place. Instead of the bat suit, however, she was garbed in armor. All four legs were garbed in boots black as night. A matching helmet covered her face, letting her horn free. A matching peytral was adorned with a crimson Batman symbol, which seemed to drip blood.
"So, Dr. Cuvier," Nightmare purred, "are you ready to face what you've unleashed?"
"Batmare!" he gulped in shock. Seeing her spread wings, he managed a smile. "I like the new look."
"Batmare's not in right now," Nightmare purred. "I'm the Dark Night."
Cuvier staggered back, his hand reaching for the box of vials.
"Please, do show me whatever last defense you have planned," Dark Night cooed. "I wouldn't want this to be too easy."
Cuvier smirked. "You may come to regret that." Searching through the box, he injected several vials into his own body. After a time, he began to change.
He expanded vertically, his body becoming heavily muscled as his legs fused into a long, thick, serpent tail. His face became beak-like, with feathered tufts instead of hair. His skin became brown as he ripped out of his clothes, and black patterns covered his snake tail.
"Now you face a true chimera!" he proclaimed.
Dark Night chuckled. "Well, if it's to be a battle of legendary beasts..." Her magic levitated several vials out of the box, shattering in the air as their contents blending with her magic as she shaped her temporary construct. "I shall let a beast of my own deal with you."
Cuvier reared back in shock as he saw the creature that took shape, towering over him with far more raw power than he could bring to bear.
A very nice dragon, Rarity mused silently as the beast began pummeling the now helpless chimera. But why is it purple and green?
Nightmare smiled sadly, saying nothing as she watched the carnage. She was almost sorry that her promise meant that her construct would not kill Cuvier, splattering the possible future form she'd crafted with his blood.
...almost.
As Rarity returned to the Batcave, she found several guests waiting for her. Two she easily recognized as Garfield and Rachel, but the third was a complete stranger to her. He was a young looking man with red and black hair with a single white streak, dark brown eyes, and a strange aura of power surrounding him. "Father?" Rarity asked. "Who is this?"
Bruce smiled. "This is Jason Blood. He's an old friend of mine. When I mentioned your present...situation, he was happy to come and help you through it. Garfield and Rachel are here for similar reasons."
"And exactly what advice could this mortal provide regarding our situation?" Nightmare demanded through Rarity's mouth. "Besides, I'm pretty certain we are already of accord. How could any of these three help?"
Bruce groaned. "All three have dealt with having 'monsters' inside of them in the past, though Jason's situation is the closest to yours. Rarity, why is she talking when you're in control?"
"Part of our agreement," Rarity explained. "She gets to talk if we're only around people who know about her, without us having to switch control of the body."
"Does that mean if you're around people who know Nightmare is also you, you get to talk through her mouth?" Garfield asked.
"No."
"Yes."
"Not a chance."
"It's only fair."
"Not happening."
Jason chuckled. "And I thought my passenger was a handful."
"Oh?" Rarity asked. "And who is your 'passenger'?"
Jason smiled. "I think I'll let him introduce himself." He took a deep breath. "Gone, gone the form of man. Rise the demon Etrigan!" His body burst into flames as the transformation took hold. When the flames passed, a gold skinned, fish faced demon dressed in red and blue stood in his place.
Nightmare suddenly gasped happily. "Etty?" she squealed. "Rarity, please, I must show him my new shape now! Please!"
"Let me talk out of your mouth then," Rarity countered.
"...just this once."
Rarity smiled. "Gone, begone, child of light. Now you face the Darkest Night!" Rarity's transformation into Nightmare form passed quickly, and Nightmare fluttered her eyelashes at Etrigan.
Etrigan, for his part, stared in shock. "My brithday does not come so soon, and yet my eyes behold Nightmare Moon?"
Nightmare chuckled. "Just Nightmare now, Etty. I'm no longer a part of the one I was born from."
"Etty?" Bruce, Rarity, and Garfield asked in shock. Rachel face palmed.
"Born she was from emotional scars, with me she danced amongst the stars," Etrigan explained.
"We used to date," Nightmare translated.
"Used to?" Rachel asked. "What happened?"
"I was bound in magical chains, when she sought one to share her pains."
"Around the time Rarity became my new host, Etty got sealed into that Blood fellow," Nightmare explained. "We never actually broke up, though."
"Speaking of in this new light, what are you doing this wondrous night?"
"My daughter is 13!" Bruce interrupted angrily. "I don't care how old the two of you are, that's still my 13 year old daughter along for the ride!"
"While a tad inappropo," Etrigan replied, "as demon I find I must ask...so?"
Why do I keep picturing him with zebra stripes? Rarity asked Nightmare silently. Nightmare burst into laughter.
"What's so funny?" Garfield asked curiously.
"You are, but looks aren't everything." Nightmare smirked when that caused Garfield to burst into laughter. "So why are these two here-"
Rachel's eyes suddenly split into four crimson slits before returning to normal.
"This honor, Nightmare, you now have, to meet the accursed child of Scath," Etrigan explained.
"Am I to assume that Changeling has his own story of a Beast inside?" Nightmare asked dismissively. "Oh wait, he already told it. It's here in Rarity's memory. What exactly can these two offer Rarity that she doesn't already have since we have made a proper compromise?"
"Lessons in manners for you?" Rachel offered, a little angrily. "You could certainly use them."
"And why should I debase myself with such-"
"These are my friends and family," Rarity interrupted. "You will be appropriately respectful, or there will be consequences."
Nightmare chuckled. "What sort of consequences can you inflict on someone in your own mind-"
She was interrupted as her own hoof struck her in the face. "Stop hitting yourself," Rarity commanded.
"What-"
"Stop hitting yourself."
"How are you-"
"Stop hitting yourself."
"This is against our agreement!"
"Tough."
Nightmare was silent for a time. "Fine," she relented. "I will be respectful of your friends and family when speaking aloud-"
She was interrupted by a sudden squeal. Kori scooped Nightmare into her arms. "Oh who is this adorably dark bat winged unicorn with the shiny blue eyes! She is absolutely adorable!"
Nightmare blinked. "...the evil demonic spirit time sharing Rarity's body?" she offered cautiously.
Kori gasped. "Rarity? You have sprouted wings? I did not know your race went through a Transformation as my own did. Such lovely wings!" She gently stroked the wings. "And your coloration is quite lovely, and your mane!" Setting Nightmare down, she began brushing her mane and tail.
Nightmare started to relax into the brushing, but paused. "And...what I said about being evil?"
"If you were truly evil, Rarity would not let you have control. She is too much a Bat trainee to allow that," Kori explained. "Ergo, you are at best irritating."
Nightmare pouted, much to the amusement of those around her.
Monday...
While Rarity was on patrol one Monday night, she was startled to hear a massive ruckus. "Well, that's rarely a good sign," she muttered to herself, making her way to the source of the commotion. What she discovered there left her flabbergasted. "Frankenstein's monster?" she asked, completely stupefied.
The figure rampaging in the streets did rather closely resemble the fictional monstrosity of science. A massive frame, gray skin, a barely emoting face... The only things missing were stitches and bolts. As he turned towards her, however, he let out a bellowing roar before charging towards her.
Thinking quickly, Rarity tried to shadow step through him, only to feel her energy being drained. "What the?" she gasped out as she reformed on the other side. She barely had time to dodge before the creature's fists smashed her into the pavement. "What was that?" she gasped as she moved to keep her distance.
A large part of what's making him move and live is magical energy, Nightmare explained in her head. When you tried to phase through him, he absorbed some of your magical energy.
Right, Rarity thought silently. So don't do that again. Any suggestions? You know more of magic than I do.
I'm still limited to what magic you are aware of, Nightmare commented dryly as Rarity dodged a flung car. I suggest calling on Bruce for answers. He may have encountered this being before.
Rarity nodded. "Father," she whispered into the comms, "I'm fighting a strange humanoid creature. It appears to be an undead of some sort, but the size of Frankenstein's monster. A large portion of its being appears to be magical energy-"
"Solomon Grundy," Bruce interrupted. "I'm seeing him through the security cameras. Not an easy foe to handle, especially when he's a mindless brute like he appears to be now."
"Well, that's wonderful news," Rarity drolled. "Any suggestions on how to fight him?"
"Not many," Bruce replied. "Generally, I would lead him to somewhere where he destroyed himself in his rampaging. He's not easy to take down."
"Well, what can you tell me about him?" Rarity demanded as she dodged a thrown lamppost. "I already know throwing magic at him won't work, since he absorbs my magic."
"He's reincarnated from the plant material of Slaughter Swamp, where his original body is entombed," Bruce explained. "It's a magical swamp steeped with the souls of the vengeful dead."
Rarity's mind worked quickly. "I have an idea." She began leading Solomon along, eventually leading him to where she had in mind. Dodging one last overhand smash, Solomon smashed open a gas main. Shadow stepping through the released gas, Rarity ignited it.
Solomon let out one last scream of rage as his body was burned to a crisp. "So how long until he comes back?" Rarity asked worriedly.
"It varies," Bruce admitted. "Anywhere from a month to a decade, generally. It all depends on how smart his next incarnation is."
Hopefully smart enough to keep his distance... Nightmare muttered irritably. With a sigh of relief, Rarity returned home to recuperate.
Tuesday...
The next night as Rarity was on patrol, she found Solomon Grundy waiting for her, looking bigger, meaner, and less bright than before.
"I thought you said a month!" Rarity hissed into her communicators as she continued to dodge blows. Much to her chagrin, Solomon was not using overhand swings, meaning she couldn't trick him into bursting another gas main.
"Someone must be channeling extra magical energy into Slaughter Swamp," Bruce concluded. "Tomorrow you should make finding out who a priority."
"Well, I already know fire works well on him," Rarity grunted. Drawing batarangs she'd prepared that morning just in case they'd be useful, she flung them at Solomon. The phosphorus payloads went off, igniting the shambling humanoid. However, even as he screamed in pain, he continued to lunge at her. "I guess it'll take longer for him to burn up this time!" Rarity moaned, continuing to dodge.
Eventually, Rarity was able to lead him into a condemned building scheduled to be demolished the next day. A few incautious swings on the part of Grundy and she was able to 'step out', leaving him buried and burning. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed. "I need a shower badly ," she groaned, turning to head for home.
Wednesday...
"Oh, come on!" Rarity wailed as she dodged Grundy again the next night. He had appeared - seemingly out of nowhere - halfway to Slaughter Swamp and ambushed her. This time he was smaller, built more like an acrobat than a body builder, and was much faster. "Just how much magic can whoever it is have at their disposal to raise him three times in three nights?"
"Not many have that much at their disposal," Bruce replied over the communicator. "It should narrow down the list of suspects."
"Well that's a relief!" Rarity groaned, clutching her stomach after one unexpectedly fast hit caught her right in the gut. She staggered back, trying to shadow step to safety, but Grundy kept moving into the path. Eventually, Rarity had to fall back on the grappling hook the suit had that she'd never used. "How do I get something this fast to slow down long enough for me to set it on fire?"
Is that a barrel of oil? Nightmare pointed out.
Timing herself right, Rarity dumped the barrel of oil just as Grundy charged. As he slipped and fell into the oil, Rarity used a phosphorous charge to set it aflame, burning him up. "Please let this be the last one..." Rarity groaned to herself.
Thursday...
"...at least this one is easier to evade," Rarity groaned as she stayed just ahead of Grundy, now massive, built like a tank, and lumbering slowly over the ground. Rather than punching this time, it seemed to be focused on grabbing her to try and squeeze her to a pulp. Thankfully, it was too slow to keep up with her.
Doesn't make him any easier to burn up, Nightmare pointed out.
Rarity paused. "...for me, anyway." She ducked into a back alley. "Gone, begone child of light. Now you face the Darkest Night."
As the dark magic faded, Dark Night stepped out. "So it's my turn now?" she asked. "What do you expect me to-"
Make the dragon again! Rarity shouted internally.
Dark Night paused. "...not a bad idea," she muttered. Reaching into the ether, she pulled out the focused blob of living magic she'd made the dragon form from originally, now focused into a large gem. Pouring her magic into the gem, the beast once more emerged to burn Grundy to ashes. "Of course, that only worked because he was so slow. He won't be next time..."
Friday...
"Why in the fuck would they make him a Pegasus?" Rarity demanded as she fled from the ponified Solomon Grundy. "And what's that mark on his flank supposed to mean? A skull and crossed wood?"
It represents being endlessly reborn from the swamp, Nightmare explained.
"Ah. Any ideas for fighting him?" Rarity demanded, dodging a lightning bolt by folding her wings flat and dropping. "Especially when he's shooting me with lightning? "
Physically, ponies are far more fragile than humans. Especially Pegasi. Hollow bones.
Rarity blinked. "I hadn't thought of that," she said, shadow stepping to above the Pegasus Grundy and diving into him, settling for beating him physically. While he was stronger than her, she focused on his wings. He wasn't able to repair them once they were damaged, and he fell into a factory's smokestack where he landed in a crucible of molten metal.
"Please let that be the last time," Rarity whimpered as she flew home to recuperate.
Saturday...
Rarity let out a piercing scream as she fled the latest manifestation of Solomon Grundy. Once more humanoid, he was as massive as when he was built like a tank, as fast as he was when built like an acrobat, and completely mindless. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"The only thing you can," Bruce replied over the comms. "The amount of magical energy needed to make him function like this is quite prohibitive. This must be the last time whoever it is will be able to raise him as a weapon again." There was anger in Bruce's voice as he spoke. "You need to finish him off one last time."
"I'd do that," Rarity groaned, "but this time he's been coated in fire retardant! It won't be so easy to set him on fire."
And complaining about it is so effective, Nightmare drolled.
Rarity frowned, noticing they were approaching the docks. "I have an idea."
I hope it's a good one. Rarity told Nightmare her idea. You're insane! ...I like it.
Because I'm taking all the risks, Rarity groaned. When Grundy charged her again, she charged him right back, landing right on his face, pulling his nose, boxing his ears, then turning around to spank her flank at him.
Grundy bellowed in rage, and brought his fist up. Batmare shadow stepped out of the way at the last moment, causing Grundy to punch himself in the face.
"Gone, begone, child of light," Rarity whispered. "Now you face the Darkest Night."
As soon as Dark Night manifested, she shed her armor, leaving her looking like an ordinary dark purple bat winged unicorn. When Grundy turned to her, she pointed towards a particular ship. "She went that way."
Bellowing in rage, Grundy leapt into the oil tanker. Nightmare promptly sealed the vat Grundy had leapt into, yanked it from the ship, set it aflame, and flung it to the moon. It exploded halfway there. "I can't believe that actually worked!" Nightmare gasped out.
His one weakness this time was he was stupid, Rarity pointed out. Magic has to be balanced...so he had to be phenomenally stupid.
"Then why not just stick a fake mustache on your face and say I'm over there?" Nightmare demanded jokingly.
...I thought about it, but I didn't want to risk him having as much as a single point in intelligence.
"...a valid point." Dark Night donned her armor again, taking flight for home.
Tomorrow I'll investigate Slaughter Swamp, Rarity promised.
Sunday...
On arriving at Slaughter Swamp, Batmare gasped in shock. Solomon Grundy was waiting for her there, leaned against a tree. "How many times do I have to kill you?" she screamed out in frustration.
"Six is more than enough for Grundy," he replied. "Though being a Pegasus was fun."
Rarity blinked. "You're intelligent this time?"
Moderately so, anyway.
Grundy shrugged his shoulders, settling his top hat and monocle. "Funny Rahzzy man used Grundy as weapon. Dumb muscle didn't work against Batmare, so he gave Grundy back his brain. Grundy didn't want to fight Batmare again, so Grundy punch Raz in the face. Raz make a fuss, so Grundy kept punching him till he left."
Nightmare cackled in Rarity's mind. I like him already.
"So what now?' Rarity asked.
Solomon shrugged. "Grundy not know what to do with self in funky future world. Not find soul. No bird nose girl to help Grundy find self. Batmare have suggestion?"
"I hear they're shooting a new Frankenstein movie in Hollywood," Rarity offered, pulling the first thing she could think of and throwing it out there.
Solomon thought for a time, then smiled. "Be nice to be rich again without being evil," he agreed. "But Grundy need agent."
"Tell them to contact Wayne Enterprises," Batmare replied. "They'll have someone to represent you by the time you reach Hollywood."
Grundy grinned widely, waved, and walked off.
"He seems nice," Rarity admitted.
"He is," Bruce replied over the comms, "when he hasn't been led down the wrong path. He died a hero for what we thought was the last time, many years ago."
"Now he can get his reward," Rarity replied.
A spoiled actor in Hollywood being cheered for playing horror movie monsters, Nightmare sneered. Some reward.
How often do Hollywood actors get propositioned? Rarity replied silently.
...some reward, Nightmare replied again, though this time there was a hint of jealousy to her tone.
As Batmare went on patrol once more through Gotham late at night, she noticed what looked like a domestic disturbance of some sort, or perhaps a B&E. Normally, she would take her time in approaching a situation such as this, but something changed her approach. She recognized the address. "Terry..." she whispered, her voice a mixture of fear and rage.
I can feel several life signs inside, Nightmare informed her. Four familiar, three unfamiliar.
"We're going in," Rarity hissed, shadow stepping into the house.
Inside, she saw three men who had done themselves up to look like Jokerz, though were plainly too old to actually be members of that gang. The only one to stand out to her was one large man who had only a single functioning eye. Given the prevalence of available cybernetic prosthesis, such a thing was highly unusual, and seemed familiar. However, she didn't have time to think about that, as one of the toughs was holding young Matt by his neck, forcing Terry to step back from an attack position. Warren and Mary were begging the thugs to spare their children, but they weren't listening.
Acting quickly, Rarity shadow stepped into the thugs arms, kicking him in the chin with both hooves, causing him to lose his grip on Matt. Catching hold of him, she warped him into his mother's arms before lunging back into the fray. She was certain she could handle three toughs, whoever had sent them, though she was beginning to get an inkling as to who, if not why. The one eyed man seemed familiar...
Just as she was about to fell one of them, she heard a sparkling of electricity from behind her. Spinning, she saw one of them lunging at her with a taser, too close for her to have time to shadow step. Just before it could impact, however, a jump kick knocked the thug away from her, and Terry landed beside her, braced for combat.
"Thanks Terry," she whispered unguardedly without thought. She noticed his eyes briefly widen before narrowing. Before he could say anything, however, the three thugs started getting to their feet. Going back to back without thought, the two continued to fight the thugs off, Rarity holding her magic back mostly as they were just ordinary humans. Before long, police sirens could be heard, and the police charged into the house. Rarity quickly shadow stepped out of the house, hiding under the window to hear what was going on inside.
"You fought with Batmare!" Matt was saying to Terry, super excited. "That was so cool!"
Rarity suppressed a chuckle hearing that, deciding she could leave things as they were here, and get more answers tomorrow from Warren as 'Miss Wayne'. For now, she returned home to sleep.
She idly wondered why Nightmare had been quiet ever since she'd caught sight of the thugs.
Nightmare slowly got to her hooves as Rarity slept. She hadn't seen fit to inform her physical cohabitant that she could assume complete control of their shared body when she was asleep. She was bound by the same limitations she was under when she first had total control of the body during these times - unable to act against Rarity's morals and ethics - but she had a great deal more freedom than when Rarity was aware of her actions. For that matter, her magic was also much less limited, as Rarity's own dreams fueled Nightmare's magic.
Given Nightmare also had need to sleep, she didn't do this often, as she didn't want Rarity to become suspicious of her being tired at unexpected times. However, it was useful for times like now, when she wanted to pursue something without Rarity's interference or awareness.
She had taken a look at all the details Rarity had gathered regarding Terry McGinnis. The main answer to the riddle was obvious to Nightmare, which led her to one of two conclusions regarding why Rarity hadn't found the answer. One, she refused to see it due to her emotional connection to Bruce and Terry, which was backed up by how angry she'd become when she thought Terry was in danger. Two, the theory Bruce and Rarity had come up with regarding masks and ancient magic somehow applied here, but not to Nightmare as she was a being of ancient magic.
Either way, having put all the details together, she had also noticed something unpleasant. She had immediately recognized the one eyed goon as working for Derek Powers. However, she also remembered an obscure reference in his employment record that Rarity had missed...Project Cadmus.
While she wasn't able to research it electronically without tipping her hand to Rarity, she was now able to seek out answers via the dream realms. Diving into the thoughts of the arrested thugs, others they were connected to, and judiciously into Bruce's sleeping mind - she had to be extremely careful with that last one, more careful than any mind she'd ever attempted to explore - she eventually found her way to the dream of one Amanda Waller.
After glancing around the woman's dreaming thoughts for a time, she chuckled. "Project Batman Beyond?" she asked aloud. "Really?"
Amanda flinched back in her mind. "Who are you?"
"That doesn't really matter," Nightmare replied. "What does matter is what I have to say. I can understand your reasoning that the world would always need a Batman...but Batman was a product of the world. Did it ever occur to you that if the world needed Batman again, it would contrive to create him again?"
"You really think I'm willing to leave such things to chance?" Amanda demanded.
Nightmare chuckled. "Why not? Random chance produced Batmare, didn't it?"
Amanda's eyes widened. "You...You're Dark Night, aren't you?"
"Well well, you do keep up, don't you?" Nightmare purred. "However, that's as far as you go. I am not like Batmare, or Batman. Keep your nose out of Gotham, and stop trying to play god. That's my job. Cross me again, and I'll have you for lunch."
Seeing in the mindscape that her message had gotten through, Nightmare returned to Rarity's bedroom before withdrawing into her place in Rarity's mindscape. That takes care of that, she thought silently, gently nudging Rarity's mind away from the mystery of Terry. It didn't really need to be explored now.
Besides, she knew Rarity would take care of the other half of it tomorrow.
The next day, Rarity finished going through the paperwork regarding a certain segment of Powers business. He'd covered his tracks well regarding that nerve agent, and his own brief exposure - and then apparent treatment - helped sell the story that he hadn't actually been involved in the manufacture. Not that she bought that for a second, and she had the records to prove it...but as Derek was the only one to be exposed, it was actually more efficient to leave him where he was so he could continue to unwittingly feed her information regarding criminal activities.
Setting that information aside, she looked up as she heard the expected knock on her door. "Come in, Terry."
Terry stepped into the office, sitting down in front of Rarity's desk.
Rarity smiled happily. "How are you doing, Terry? I understand you had...a bit of an adventure last night?"
Terry managed a smile. "I suppose you could call it that. It's not everyday you fight back to back with Batmare."
Rarity noticed his hesitation, as though he wanted to say more. "Tell me Terry...what were your impressions of Batmare? What do you think of her?"
Terry hesitated again, plainly wanting to say something but at the same time not wanting to. "You're going to think this sounds crazy..."
Rarity smiled encouragingly. "Go on. I promise I won't call the men in white coats."
Terry chuckled. "I think she's you."
Rarity giggled. Terry might think it was at the apparent ridiculousness of his suggestion, but she had a far different reason for her amusement. Martial arts wasn't the only thing Bruce had been teaching Terry alongside Rarity, and it looked to Rarity like those other lessons were about to pay off big time. "I doubt you'd say something like that out of the blue," she said idly. "So why don't you present your evidence, hmm? Then we can have fun picking your theory apart."
Terry smiled. "Alright. I had my first suspicions back when Batmare was first sighted, when the Jokerz were caught getting Wayne Enterprises weapons that weren't actually Wayne Enterprises' products. You stepped out of our training session, and then Mr. Wayne ended it early, just before that fight that was Batmare's first appearance." He frowned as he sat back. "Each successive time Batmare appeared right at first were times when your schedule was 'full', and you were unavailable."
Rarity chuckled. "The old 'never seen together' bit?" she asked in amusement. "Surely you have more than that."
"The peak of that was actually that week of Solomon Grundy, as the press called it," Terry explained. "I hadn't noticed until that week, but every night Batmare's seen on patrol...you don't show up at Wayne Enterprises the next morning. Mr. Wayne excused you each time, and that week he said you fell ill...but it's quite a coincidence, isn't it?"
Rarity smiled. "Go on..."
"What really made me wonder, though, was Inque," Terry concluded. "She got a job here shortly after Batmare sealed her shape changing powers...and then you unsealed them. The only way that happens without Batmare coming down hard on you and Inque is if you are somehow connected to Batmare."
Rarity's eyes widened. "Well now, that is quite a lot of evidence. So tell me, what makes you think this theory is crazy?"
"A couple of things," Terry admitted. "The first was that I just couldn't see you as Batmare. Despite the training I know Mr. Wayne has given you, I couldn't imagine a 'lady' who always needs her 'beauty sleep' being a secret vigilante...or more specifically, a secret nocturnal vigilante."
Rarity chuckled. She was glad to see some of her efforts of misdirection were effective. "What was the other thing?"
"Well...the only way any of this works to say you are Batmare is if Mr. Wayne is in on it...which would only work if he was Batman, somehow." Terry shook his head. "But there's that one news article regarding Batdog where Batman and Mr. Wayne were photographed shaking hands, so that's impossible."
Rarity laughed. "Unless, perchance, that Batman were a body double?" she offered.
Terry's eyes widened. "I...I hadn't thought of that." He turned to stare at Rarity in shock. "Then..."
Rarity smiled. "Hypothetically, Terry, let's suppose you are right. Let us suppose, as unlikely as it might seem, you've hit on a secret. That I am Batmare, a masked vigilante dedicated to cleaning up crime in Gotham City. Let us also suppose that this is a legacy I inherited from my father, who was once Batman. Supposing this all were true...what would you do with this secret?"
Terry thought for a time, mulling over the words of his childhood friend. Eventually, he spoke up. "I'd want to help."
Rarity's smile widened. "Terry, my father's getting on in years, as much as he'd hate to admit it. I've been taking more and more responsibility of the company onto my shoulders, but he still pushes himself. As I take on more and more responsibility, I can't be there to take on more of his endeavors. He needs someone young, vigorous, and trustworthy to do his leg work for him. I would hire a professional, but he'd never accept it. ...but a former student, one he'd trained himself? I think I can talk him around to accept that. It'd be a good way for you to earn some extra credits for spending time with Miss Tan."
Terry smirked. "Sounds like a good deal. I'll take it."
Rarity chuckled. "I'll talk with Warren and Mary about it this afternoon. I'm sure they'll be happy to accept this arrangement. Teenagers have so much extra energy, after all," she teased.
Rarity had learned from her father that there were three ways to keep a secret when someone discovered it. The first was to kill those who had learned, an unpleasant option at best, unpalatable at worst. The second was to make them forget, unreliable at best, unethical at worst.
The third was to make them a part of the secret. Gotham would have Batman again soon, after all.
Bruce sat down to breakfast with Rarity, the morning after Terry's first solo excursion as Batman. Rarity could feel Bruce watching her carefully, obviously trying to find a way to say something. Unwilling to be patient, Rarity decided to break the ice. "You don't approve," she said bluntly.
Bruce set down his tea cup. "I didn't say that," he countered.
"You didn't have to," Rarity replied. "From the minute I first went out with Terry as Batman, you've had the same uncertain frown on your face whenever you look at the new suit. What have you got against him taking up the mantle of Batman? Unlike me, he was able to learn everything you had to teach in the ways of the arts. He's as physically capable as Batman as you ever were in your prime. He's your top student, and you're practically a second father to him! Even Warren said so. So what do you have against him donning the cape and cowl? ...well, cowl at any rate."
Bruce sighed. "Why Batman?" he asked finally. "Couldn't you have given him the mantle of Robin? Or Nightwing, if you feel he's too old for Robin?"
"And why would I relegate him to a sidekick?" Rarity demanded. "He's a partner in crime fighting. Much as you are like a second father to him, he is like a brother to me."
"But what about those who don't know that he's your student in this regard?" Bruce demanded. "Someone new to Gotham might think you're the sidekick, if not the mascot!"
"Good."
Bruce stared at Rarity in shock. "What did you say?"
"I said good," Rarity replied. "I want the bat signal to shine brightest on Terry. As Batman, he will protect the city as you did before. With us able to take turns out on patrol, neither of us will be so overworked by 'night work' that our daily lives will suffer. That's the main lesson I took from Richard: have backup you can rely on." She sipped her tea. "It's why the first few major villains I faced I arranged to rehabilitate instead of incarcerate. At the time I didn't realize Terry would seek the mask as well."
Bruce nodded. "I understand that. What I don't understand is why you want Batman to have more attention than Batmare."
"Because that way no one will notice when Batmare slowly fades into the background before disappearing altogether," she replied softly.
Bruce froze. "What do you mean by that?"
"I read your private files regarding your speculation of how I came to be here," she admitted.
Bruce frowned. "How'd you crack my security?"
"'Pennyworth' wasn't that difficult a password to guess once I started thinking like you," she replied with a smirk.
He glowered at her. "I don't know whether to be disappointed that you tried to break into my files or proud that you succeeded." When this only resulted in Rarity giggling, he sighed, shaking his head. "Alright, I suppose I can't fault your reasoning. But where did you get the suit?"
"I sent Victor the specs for the suit mine was made from and asked him to upgrade it with the most advanced tech he had at his disposal without altering the essence of it," Rarity replied. "The cloaking field will now extend to wielded weapons, the kinetic dampening field now reduces the force of impact five times as much, while the kinetic amplifiers give twice as much of a strength boost."
Bruce stroked his chin. "I'm not sure how I feel about others knowing the design of the Bat suit..."
"Victor's already deleted the files from his hard drive, with the only copy of the specs on a flash drive stored here," Rarity replied. "Same as the designs for the magitek I've used to upgrade my suit."
Bruce paused. "Do I want to know what you've put into your suit?"
"Probably, but I won't tell you," Rarity replied in a teasing voice.
Bruce chuckled. "So what did you send Terry out to take care of last night?"
"Someone's been dumping radioactive waste into the ocean," she replied. "Terry was investigating - and putting a stop to - that. He reported an all clear, and that the man in charge of the operation had Derek Powers on his speed dial."
Bruce frowned. "Well, I suppose-"
His words were interrupted as the TV turned on, having been keyed to automatically turn on for news broadcasts including certain key words. Bruce stared at the man visible on the TV. "...Victor Fries," Bruce said in surprise.
"That doctor you fought when he was villainous?" Rarity asked in surprise. "I thought he couldn't live outside his cold suit?"
As they listened to the broadcast, Bruce frowned. "It seems Mr. Powers found something that could fix that."
"And I'll just bet he offered it to the good doctor out of the goodness of his heart," Rarity growled. "I'll be in work investigating this."
"I think Terry should tail Fries," Bruce pointed out. "He wasn't exactly stable in the past."
Rarity frowned, but nodded. "Alright. Tell Terry to keep track of him...but he might not necessarily be villainous now. He might actually need protection."
Rarity's attempt at an official investigation into what Derek had used to rejuvenate Victor Fries proved to be just a little too slow. By the time she'd gotten a hold of the scientists who did the work, Mr. Fries had started to relapse, and one scientist - on indirect orders from Powers - had tried to kill him for a postmortem examination. However, Rarity had made preparations when she learned about the start of the relapse. She had an idea of how to fix things.
By the time she caught up to Terry in costume, however, she saw Batman and Freeze in battle with Derek Powers...although Powers now resembled a glowing green skeleton.
Thankfully, Terry's Batsuit had heavily upgraded protections against radiation, so he was actually able to do a good job holding off the mutated foe. Rarity - as Batmare - went straight to Freeze. "You have been badly mistreated, Doctor," she said simply. "I want to fix that."
He simply stared at her. "How will you fix that? Not even a new body is immune to what I have become."
"What if I could give you a body that didn't have to be immune in order to let you live amongst others?" Rarity offered.
Freeze stared at her. "Don't taunt me with impossible miracles," he scolded.
"I don't," she replied, holding up a transparent jewel. "I offer magic. Unshield your hand."
Uncertain what she had planned, Freeze pressed a button on the arm controls of his cold suit. The armor over his hand retracted.
She set the jewel into his hand, and it began to glimmer. "Pretty, isn't it?"
"Yes..." Freeze said, his voice trailing off. The jewel suddenly filled with a blue light, and Freeze slumped over, dead.
Taking the soul stone in her magic, Rarity handed it off to Terry. "Take this to lab 42, and call Dr. Roth. I'll take care of..." She glanced towards Derek Powers.
"He calls himself Blight," Terry explained, before taking the jewel and flying off.
Blight glowered down at her. "Do you think you won't wither at my touch?" he demanded, hunkering down to lunge at her.
Rarity stared at him for a time, then noticed something stuck to his clothing. Nightmare, I have an idea... She quickly explained her plan to Nightmare.
Nightmare whistled in her mind. Clev~er, Miss Wayne, she mused. But your magic isn't strong enough to carry it out. ...but mine is.
Rarity smiled. "Gone, begone, child of Light. Now you face the Darkest Night!"
The swirling dark magic blasted Blight back, and two beams of magic lashed out from the swirling miasma. One plunged straight into Blight's chest, the other focused on a bit of plastiskin still clinging to his shirt. The plastiskin fragment erupted, expanding uncontrollably until it fully encapsulated Blight, leaving him visibly Derek Powers again.
"Pleasant dreams," Dark Night whispered, the transformation reversing. He's all yours.
Thank you, Rarity replied silently before walking up to Derek Powers. "You're probably wondering what just happened."
Derek was staring at his hand. "The skin...it's not dissolving."
"No," Rarity replied. "I used magic to alter its composition. It now absorbs the radiation you give off, using it to strengthen itself. No matter how angry you get, no matter how strong your radioactive nature becomes...you will never become Blight again, Mr. Powers."
Derek looked up at her. "T...thank you-"
"Don't thank me, Derek," she replied angrily. "You've used your power, money, and influence to profit off of others, not caring who you hurt or who suffered, for too long. It had been my thought to simply destroy you professionally with all the records I'd gathered...but it seems that won't be enough to end the blight you are on the world. So that's what the second spell was for. Your radioactive nature sustains you so you cannot be killed, and now you cannot kill yourself because of my spell...but from this day forth, no one will believe a word you say. No matter where you go, you will be greeted with derision, scorn, and hostility. Never again will you know the safety and comfort you have stripped from so many for your own profit. Simply put, Mr. Powers..."
Rarity pulled her mask off, her eyes glaring icy daggers at him. "You're fired."
Derek stared at her in confusion, fear, and rage before scrambling off. Rarity donned her mask before turning to leave the collapsing building.
You sure that spell will do what you said? Nightmare asked. It's not one I'm familiar with.
It's a modified form of the ancient "Mark of Cain", Rarity explained mentally. I researched it as a way of protecting my secret identity should I get unmasked.
What brought that on? Nightmare wondered.
Rarity was silent for a time. The night before I offered Terry the role of Batman - after saving him and his family - I had a nightmare. I...dreamed I was kidnapped by a group of splicers obsessed with snakes, and who planned to revert the world to a prehistoric state - like the time of the dinosaurs - by dropping a nuke into a volcano. To protect myself from being spliced with snake DNA, I woke you while unmasked...which made them all realize I was Batmare. To protect that secret - and the world - you dropped them all into the volcano after disposing of the nuke. You told me I'd signed their death warrants by chanting your release while unmasked, without providing any means but death to protect our secret.
Nightmare was silent for a time. ...that actually sounds like something I'd do.
That's why I researched the spell, Rarity explained. For an alternative for death to protect the secret.
...remind me to explain memory spells to you sometime, Nightmare growled in resignation. Secretly, however, Nightmare was delighted. She liked this side of this Rarity...
A few days later, Rarity smiled across her desk in her office at the former Victor Fries. "So, Doctor, how's the new body?"
The scientist glanced at his hand. "It's...amazing. I can feel the icy nature still, but it isn't overpowering! I can feel both warmth and cold, and I can expend the cold that fills my body at will. How is this possible?"
Rarity smiled. "The same technology that saved you before...but combined with magic. Instead of trying to create a human body for you to inhabit, I produced a male yuki-onna body...a yuki-otoko, if you will. After all, the cold in your spirit is right at home in the physical form of a snow sprite."
He smiled. "And transferring my mind and spirit via soul stone instead of technology smoothed over any details," he agreed. "And I suppose the new identity is-"
"A clean slate is best for a new life," Rarity replied easily. "And a job at Wayne Enterprises helps even more." She had purged the Powers name from the company shortly after firing Derek.
"True," the former villain replied. "But...the name? Really?"
Rarity gave him big, dewy, begging eyes.
He sighed. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said, pitching his voice slightly different. "I am Akira Frieza. I am a travelling improv artist. Let me give you a demonstration. My powers will be a drunken sailor, and that statue will be a baby seal. And, go." Pointing his hand, a beam of cold shot forth, freezing the small statue until it exploded. "And, scene."
Rarity burst into peal upon peal of laughter.
Dr. Frieza rolled his eyes. "If anyone but you starts making those jokes, I'm going to be a bit absolutely livid ," he added, deepening his voice to a menacing level on the last two words, but finishing with a smile. He watched as the late adolescent unicorn fell back in peals of giggling laughter.
Bruce glanced up as the new Batmobile coasted easily into the Cave, setting down easily in its proper parking spot. As Terry hopped out, discarding his mask, Bruce smiled softly. "So how did it go with the Jokerz?" he asked.
Terry shrugged. "I broke up the robbery, but it was weird," Terry admitted. "Third time this month that particular gang was trying to intercept high tech machinery."
Bruce nodded. "Rarity mentioned bumping into them on her last run. They're probably fencing it." A frown crossed his face.
"What's bugging you, sensei?" he asked, falling habitually back into the form of address he had used back when he only knew Bruce as his martial arts instructor, a friend of the family, and Rarity's father.
"Rarity had a different theory, but it was a bit difficult to believe," Bruce explained.
"What theory?"
Bruce shrugged. "She postulated someone with bigger aims than the gang's usual goals had somehow attained some sort of control over this particular gang, which is why they're engaging in these particular robberies. This would also explain why none of what they've stolen has shown up anywhere else."
"Sounds plausible," Terry agreed. "Why do you doubt it?"
"Because there's only one person any Jokerz gang would allow to take that much control...and I saw him die with my own eyes." Bruce shook his head. "While I've seen many old foes come back when I thought they were dead, there's no doubt he's dead."
Terry nodded. While Bruce had started to be a bit more open with Terry regarding his experience as Batman - at Rarity's insistence - Terry knew when not to ask questions. "Wouldn't stop someone from claiming to be him and riding on his rep," Terry pointed out.
"I had considered that possibility, too," Bruce admitted. "But it merely creates the same problems in a different way. At least a fake would be predictable, though."
"So where is the silly filly?" Terry asked, glancing around as he changed out of the suit, folding it up in his backpack.
"Writing her speech," Bruce replied with a wide smirk.
Terry chuckled. "I'm still surprised you didn't drop it on her as a birthday present."
Bruce smiled. "I did at the breakfast table. The big ceremony is just the formal investiture. She's 18 now, after all. She's ready to run the company all on her own." He chuckled softly. "Actually, she has been for several years, despite my name still being on the CEO's office." As Terry started to head out, Bruce remembered something. "Oh, and Rarity wants you to bring Dana with you to the soiree. Your invitation is marked plus one."
"I'm not entirely sure it would be Dana's scene," Terry admitted.
"I don't believe Rarity considered whether it would be her scene or not," Bruce admitted. "I think she just wants to finally meet her in a scenario where there won't be too much social awkwardness."
Terry chuckled. "I suppose so." He slung his backpack onto his back. "Speaking of, Dana's waiting for me."
Bruce chuckled as he watched Terry head out. "Young people," he mused softly. "Was I ever like that?"
Bruce sighed to himself as he glanced around at the gathered members of the company. While on the one hand he was pleased that passing the reigns of the company over to Rarity wouldn't cause many ripples, he felt that they didn't need to be so obviously excited about it. The atmosphere was festive and joyful.
Admittedly, there were a few faces around he wasn't certain how to feel about. He had spotted an inky shadow flickering back and forth between tables and peoples' shadows, plainly indicative that Miss Clay was taking her role as Head of Security seriously tonight. He wasn't sure whether to be concerned that someone felt such security was necessary or pleased with himself that he was able to spot her. He had also spotted Walter Shreeve - whom Rarity had mentioned regarding the accident that had placed him briefly in the psych ward - working by the sound stage, helping set something up. The one that would really take getting used to was Akira Frieza, the new head of the medical research division, specializing in cryogenics. He used to pity Victor Fries, while seeing Mr. Freeze as an irredeemable threat. Seeing him now laughing and smiling as he chatted with various coworkers left him feeling somewhat out of place.
He was startled out of his musing as Rarity approached him. "Wool gathering, Father?" she asked softly.
He chuckled. "After today, I'll be officially retired. Not sure what I'll be doing with my future from now on. Only natural my mind turns to the past."
Rarity chuckled. "Father, now that I'll be officially in charge of Wayne Enterprises, I won't have nearly as much time to lend a hoof at home." While her tone was casual, the slight flex of her bat wings over her dress made it plain what she was talking about. "Terry does his best, but his training isn't anywhere near complete."
Bruce smiled. "I suppose getting him into shape will be entertaining for a time." He glanced up. "And I won't be the only one with my hands full."
Rarity smiled as she glanced up. Terry looked somewhat uncomfortable in the suit he was wearing for the occasion, though his discomfort might have been due to the stares his girlfriend was getting on his arm. The white formal dress she was wearing, while of the modern fashion, went slightly beyond what most of the party would consider proper...or at least modest.
Terry managed a smile as he walked her up to Bruce and Rarity. "Dana, this is Mr. Wayne, and Rarity Wayne. Bruce, Rarity, this is my girlfriend, Dana."
Dana smiled warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," she said formally, shaking hands with Bruce.
"A pleasure to meet the girl who takes up so much of such a gifted mind's focus," Bruce teased gently.
Dana hesitated only briefly before extending her hand to Rarity, unsure whether she should try to shake hands or pet her. She started to kneel down to Rarity's level.
With a smile, Rarity levitated herself up to place her hoof in Dana's hand without making her bend too far. "It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Miss Tan," Rarity replied formally but affectionately. "Terry talks about you all the time. Only good things, I assure you."
Dana smiled. "Terry's mentioned you quite a bit over the time I've known him, too," she replied. "You two seem pretty close."
Rarity chuckled as she lowered herself back to the ground. "Yes. With how long he's been training with me under Father, and how close our families have become...he's like the little brother I never had."
Dana glanced back and forth between Terry and Rarity. "Little brother?" she asked incredulously.
Both Rarity and Terry chuckled. "Yes," Rarity clarified, "despite appearances, I'm the older sibling."
Bruce smiled. "Terry, help me up to the stage?" he asked.
"Of course, Mr. Wayne," Terry replied hastily. "Be right back," he added to Dana.
As they walked towards the podium, Rarity and Bruce exchanged a knowing glance, followed by a shared nod. When Terry glanced between them for confirmation, Bruce smiled. "Terry...when you feel your relationship with Dana has gotten serious enough...you can tell her a bit more about your night job."
At Terry's shocked look, Rarity smiled. "Part of why we wanted to meet her, darling," she replied archly.
Terry shook his head with a chuckle. "Thanks for the reassurance," he said with a smile.
As Bruce Wayne was announced, he approached the podium. "I'm not sure how to feel about tonight," he began. "On the one hand, it's a genuine pleasure to hand the reigns of the company to the next generation of the Wayne family. I never thought I would actually get that chance." He paused as the audience applauded. "On the other hand, the rest of you don't need to look so happy about getting rid of me." This was greeted by startled laughter from the entire gathered throng.
Bruce started to speak again, but the microphone let out a sudden high pitched whine. Bruce frowned at it in concern...concern that rapidly climbed when he saw Walter Shreeve frowning, pulling out one of his handheld sonic generators and tinkering with it in concentration. Obviously, Shreeve's work with sound meant that the microphone shouldn't be doing that, and that it doing so was a more serious concern than he first thought.
Without warning, a splicer who had been blended with a hyena lunged over the outer wall, racing towards the stage. As several members of the crowd scattered, Shreeve rushed forward. Twisting something on his hand held sonic amplifier, he pointed it at the criminal - who Bruce now recognized from Terry and Rarity's descriptions of the Jokerz Gang as the one called Woof - and triggered it. An intense, focused pulse of sound surrounded Woof, attuned to affect a hyena's hearing in the same way a dog whistle affected a dog. Woof collapsed to the ground under the sonic barrage, whimpering.
A pair of scantily clad female Jokerz attempted to grab hold of Bruce, but a touch on their bare shoulders left them both shivering. Akira smiled kindly at them. "I think you should go sit with Commissioner Gordon over there," he said gently, gesturing to where Barbara already had her cuffs out. "I doubt her reception of you will be as chilly as mine."
The two female Jokerz - now unable to do anything but shiver, hug themselves tight, and chatter their teeth - staggered over to where they were quickly arrested.
Pink smoke poured out of a trap door in the floor, and a frighteningly familiar figure appeared in the smoke. Short cropped green hair, white skin, chillingly clownish smile, dark purple bodysuit... "It's just so hard to get good help these days," the Joker complained as he stepped out of the smoke. "If you want something done right...guess who's back, Gotham!" He threw his arms wide on the last words. As the crowd fled in fear, he spoke into his watch. "Ghoul, Chucko, at least tell me you're on the job!"
"Sorry," Inque replied over his communicator in the echoey voice that showed she was mid shapeshift, "they can't come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after they and the bombs you had scattered around the party area are in the hands of the police. Beep."
Joker snarled in frustration. He turned as he saw one who was somewhat familiar to him approach. "Didn't expect to see you here, Freeze," he grated. "What's with the monkey suit?"
Akira smiled. "Care to play a game, Joker? I heard you like games."
Joker grinned. "What did you have in mind?"
"You know paint ball?" Akira asked, holding one hand low as he focused his new ice powers.
"Yes?"
"Remove the T."
Joker scratched his head. "I don't get it-" He let out an explosive gasp of air as a hailstone the size of a hen's egg slammed into his solar plexus like it had been shot from a cannon. "Now I get it," he whimpered from his sudden doubled over position.
Akira was right beside him. "You need to cool off," he said, putting his fingers to the Joker's forehead and using his ice powers to slow the Joker's brain activity.
Joker chuckled as he started to doze. "When did you learn...to tell a joke?" He slumped into unconsciousness.
Smiling, Akira slung the unconscious Joker over his shoulder. "Everything's under control!" he called out to the formerly panicked crowd.
Seeing that Bruce was still shaken, Rarity stepped up to the podium. "Well, Father, it does seem like life is rather exciting these days, doesn't it?" she said, both to Bruce and to the crowd. Nervous chuckles showed that the employees, at least, were starting to calm down. Rarity then did her best to adapt her acceptance speech to the situation.
Deep inside Rarity's mind, Nightmare sighed fitfully. "This has gotten boring," she mused to herself. "It was one thing when things started. She was still learning, still developing. But she's gotten too good at this. And she doesn't do everything herself. She asks for help! What kind of Batman asks for help?" She rolled her eyes in frustration. "She just has too much to work with here, and the criminals too little. I didn't even get to fight the Joker through her!" Nightmare thought about that for a bit, then sighed. "Then again, it actually hurt me to see Bruce in such a state when he saw the Joker returned. What has happened to me?"
Sitting back, she thought for a time, then smiled. "Still...I won't have to stay here too much longer. I wonder how she'll handle going home?"
Nightmare wandered through the Batcave, letting her mind wander over everything that had happened recently. Between the various villains Rarity had reformed, Terry's training as Batman, and the Justice League's focus on dealing with the Joker chips, it was plain to Nightmare that Rarity had accomplished her goal: Gotham didn't need Batmare anymore.
While this would have been easy enough to accept and opened the door for Nightmare to bring these events she'd set in motion to a close, there was a problem she had not anticipated. Gotham still needed Rarity Wayne.
Rarity had been spending less and less time under the mask, having handed those duties off to Terry for the most part. Instead, she focused on using her position as head of Wayne Enterprises to clean up Gotham in other ways. While Batman focused on taking down those criminal elements that still sought their criminal activities - at this point mostly the Jokerz, and the occasional criminal family - Rarity focused on addressing those issues in Gotham that created the criminal element, focusing her attention on Lower Gotham, where the slums were, and finding the rare gems of talent amongst the sickly and downtrodden as she made the areas healthy to live in with company resources.
All in all, Nightmare was bored senseless. She had greatly enjoyed the combat against supervillains, and the chaos of the unknown it brought with. She felt what she should really be doing at this point was working the magic to take them both back to Equestria - now that relativistic time had allowed Rarity to catch up to herself - and leave Gotham to its own devices. But she wasn't.
Instead, here she was down in the Batcave working more powerful magics, though still ones within her power, to reopen the original portal that brought them here. If all she wanted to do was open a one way gate to take them home, she'd be able to do so easily. But for some reason, she wasn't.
She knew why, of course. Despite everything, Rarity's enthusiasm for saving the city had raised her curiosity. As much as she genuinely wanted to get back to where some excitement was bound to happen, she desperately wanted to know if Rarity could actually pull it off. It made her regret making that wish all those relative years ago - when the power of Harmony kept her caged deep inside an unaware dressmaker - that brought them here.
Never trust a draconequess, she grumbled silently as she approached Vault E-G, the one Rarity had arrived in. The magic that had made the portal on this end had been drawn from the magical artifacts stored there, but it hadn't been absorbed by the portal or by Rarity. It had become embedded in the very walls, floor, and door of the vault, waiting to be reactivated. Being able to kibbitz isn't the freedom I wished for in my book.
Approaching the vault door, she began drawing runes upon it with her horn, activating the magic contained within. Once completed, the circle she was drawing would begin the slow, gradual process of stabilizing the wormhole between here and the other end, in Equestria. When it was complete, what once was a portal would be a bridge.
By the time she comes down here again, it'll be complete, Nightmare thought to herself. And then it will be time to go home. She allowed herself a pleased smirk as she finished drawing the circle and watched the door begin to warp as space-time rippled from the focused magic that was gradually digging a hole through its fabric. I wonder how the Princesses will react to Dark Night. And I wonder how Fa- She cut her thoughts off. How Bruce will handle Equestria. He'll be able to pass through too, after all. It might just give the old fool a heart attack!
She tried to be amused at that last thought, but found instead that it was disturbing. She cursed the parasitic nature she had taken on after being purged from Luna, from whom she had been born. She existed only to find a host, and then her own goals and desires became shaped by those of her host. And Rarity was making her soft.
Maybe if I reveal myself at an inopportune time, they'll find a way to purge me from her, Nightmare grumbled. Then I can come back here and convince Bruce to be my new host or something. Or maybe use magic to turn a potato into a person. Joker would be a nice vessel for a while. Hmm...Nightmare Joker, no, not a good ring...Dark Humor...oh, I like that. Dark Humor, the Comedy Queen of Crime...
Letting loose a loud yawn, Nightmare returned to Rarity's bedroom, letting herself slip into her own slumber and letting the body revert to Rarity's slumbering form.
Several days later, after taking her turn patrolling the streets of Gotham, Rarity noticed something odd in the Batcave. "Father," she said in concern through the comms, "why is there a second staircase in the Batcave?"
"Beg pardon?" Bruce asked, surprised.
"In amongst the vaults, there's a stairway going up where there used to be a door," Rarity explained. "The steps are also much smaller than the ones leading up into Wayne Manor."
"Smaller in what way?" Bruce asked.
Rarity approached the steps. "Well..." She examined them for a time. "They almost seem sized to me, as strange as that sounds."
Bruce was silent for a time. "Rarity, go up those stairs, but proceed with caution."
"Are you certain, Father?"
"Yes. Keep up a running commentary for as long as communications hold."
Rarity paused with one hoof hovering over the bottom step. Her mind ran fast as she interpreted her father's words. "You think this leads back to the world I come from," she intuited. "And you aren't sure if I'll be able to come back?"
Bruce was silent for a time. "There is a distinct possibility of that, yes."
Rarity put her hoof back down on the floor. "Then why should I go?" she asked quietly.
"Because if that path to your world has opened, your world likely needs you," Bruce replied. "And I know you won't shy away from that."
Rarity winced. "But...but what about Gotham? And Earth?"
"If we continue to need you, I'm certain you'll find your way back."
Rarity sighed. "Alright, Father. ...wish me luck."
"Good luck."
With those words exchanged, Rarity began climbing up the stairs.
When she reached the top of the stairs, Rarity found a doorway, again sized to someone her size rather than a human. "I've found a doorway, Father," she said over the comms. "It's sized to me as well. ...I'm opening the door."
"Be careful," Bruce cautioned.
Rarity pushed the door open. "There's another stairway leading upward," she explained, "though this one looks more normal. There also appears to be...some sort of basement." The door shut behind her as she stepped through, and she saw the glow of runes. "Father?"
"I can still hear you," Bruce replied, though there was a strange quality to his voice over the comms, as though it echoed from a great distance. "However, the electronic communications have cut out. We're on the magical backup Rachel and Victor designed for you."
Rarity breathed a sigh of relief. Stepping forward, she turned the doorknob of the rune inscribed door, and found she was able to open it easily, revealing the staircase back down. She let the door shut again. "I'm going to investigate further," Rarity explained. "However, this may be a private residence of some sort, so I won't be speaking further."
A good idea, Nightmare mentioned. It's nighttime here, and we wouldn't want to wake Sweetie Belle.
Rarity flinched at Nightmare's statement, but narrowed her eyes. You know what's going on-
Go upstairs. It'll become clear soon enough.
Frowning, Rarity walked up the stairs. Stepping out of the basement, she found herself in someplace very familiar. "This..."
Yes, Nightmare replied. This is the place from your mindscape. This is your original home and place of business...Carousel Boutique.
"Where everything is chic, unique, and magnifique," Rarity found herself saying before gasping and covering her mouth. How do I know that?
Nightmare chuckled. It seems your memories weren't gone, just deeply suppressed. The right triggers will bring them back...and I'll be able to manage their awakening as they come so you aren't overwhelmed.
And what's in it for you to do that? Rarity demanded silently.
It's no fun if my host is reduced to a vegetable, Nightmare pointed out.
"R-Rarity?" a quiet voice whimpered. "I-is that you?"
Turning, Rarity saw a small white unicorn filly with a pink and purple curly mane and green eyes looking up at her nervously. As memory bubbled to the surface - gently cushioned by Nightmare - Rarity smiled, recognizing the filly. "Yes, Sweetie Belle, it's me. Did I wake you?"
Sweetie shook her head. "I heard Discord laughing, and some strange noises...and then you were talking to someone. Umm...why are you dressed like that, sis? It's nowhere close to Nightmare Night." Her eyes widened as she saw something she didn't expect. "Rarity...you have bat wings? When did that happen?"
Rarity chuckled as she pulled her mask off. "It's...a bit of a long story, Sweetie Belle." She smiled. "How about I tell you some of it, to help you sleep?"
Sweetie smiled widely, letting Rarity guide her back up to her bedroom. "It's been forever since you told me a bedtime story!"
Rarity chuckled. "Well, I think you'll enjoy this one. It begins with a bat who could no longer raise his wings..."
Rarity's adaption back to Equestria - with Nightmare feeding her her own memories of the life she'd returned to in a controlled manner - went rather smoothly. While at first she had been concerned her new wings might have caused problems, she discovered that it was remarkably easy to avoid discussion - or even comment - regarding them. Much like her friend Twilight's new wings - and status as a Princess - outside of Ponyville few noticed or even commented on it unless it was brought up, and ponies in Ponyville apparently only noticed because they were present for the rather showy ascension. Rarity seeming to wake up one day with bat wings barely caught any eyes, especially since she didn't make a fuss about it. Given her apparent reputation as a drama queen, it was easy to understand the logic of "Rarity doesn't make a fuss=it's not important".
The real issue she came across was a discovery regarding Nightmare herself. Given the intense training Rarity had given herself to supplement her own less than vast magical reserves with whatever ambient magic was in her environment, the much higher ambient magical energy levels made some spells more difficult to handle, though she was able to adjust without too much trouble or attention, especially with Nightmare's coaching. The real headache was the discovery that Nightmare could use those higher levels of magical energy to reach beyond Rarity's body to influence her surroundings to a certain extent. However, they did come to an agreement that Nightmare would not do anything to cause anyone irreparable physical or mental harm, and make sure to cover her tracks...and stop flirting with Discord . He was so not Rarity's type.
The first major confrontation between Rarity and Nightmare in this regard had come during a trip Rarity took with her friends to Manehatten for fashion week. She had made a decision that - unless a revelation proved necessary - to keep her life as Batmare and Miss Wayne separate from her life as Rarity of Ponyville if at all possible. As such, she did her best to slip into her old life without notice - save the bedtime stories she told Sweetie Belle, who had Pinkie Promised not to tell anyone without permission - and even resurrect a few old behaviors. As such, although she didn't trust Suri Polomare when the mare had started cozying up to her before the show, she had decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, giving her a bolt of the special fabric she'd made for her own new line to experiment with back home.
Suri Polomare did not appear in time for the show, much to the upset of Prim Hemline, who was running the show. Rarity's line was exceptionally well received, and she had plenty of time before the show started to attend the attractions her friends planned to go to.
It was on returning from the first such attraction that the news was heard. Suri Polomare was found amidst a half finished clothing line of her own that - in this light - was a blatant copy of the line Rarity had presented, and hanging from the ceiling, hogtied in the remainder of the bolt of special fabric Rarity had given her.
You can't seriously be upset about me giving that copy-catting witch what was coming to her, Nightmare growled as Rarity withdrew for 'private meditation' before the show.
No, I'm not angry about what you did to her, Rarity thought back. I gave her one chance to be better than I expected, and she failed.
...Are you angry because I made sure she was found out?
No, that was quite well done.
Then what are you angry about?
The waste of fabric! We worked months on that cloth to make it so perfect and unique, and you tied her up in it! It's a criminal waste of good fashion!
How else was I supposed to make certain no one would ever believe you or your friends had done it? Nightmare countered. I am supposed to cover my tracks, after all.
Rarity mulled that over for a time. Touché, she finally admitted.
After the show, Rarity found herself approached by a young mare who seemed almost unnaturally shy and quiet...and Rarity knew Fluttershy, so that was saying something. "Umm...excuse me..." the blue maned mare said softly.
Rarity turned to her, her glasses - updated with Equestrian data as she gathered it - giving her the information she needed. "Miss Coco Pommel, was it?" Rarity asked.
"Yes. I was, well, Suri's assistant..." Her voice trailed off nervously.
Rarity thought for a bit as to how to handle this situation, then smiled gently. "And I imagine this recent revelation has put you out of work?" At Coco's nod, Rarity gestured to a nearby tea shop. "Why don't we talk about a few things, shall we?" she asked gently.
Coco followed easily...far too easily for Rarity's comfort. "What would you like to talk about, Miss Rarity?" she asked gently.
"Well, I looked over some of Suri's past fashion lines after that disastrous revelation," Rarity explained. "Knowing that she would do such a thing, I noticed that many of her lines showed traits of other designers whose lines I've seen. I wasn't her first attempt at this, was I?"
Mutely, Coco shook her head.
"However, I did notice some lines that did have a common...artistic hoofprint, if you will," Rarity explained. "Tell me, did you play a part in her...creative adaptions?"
Coco shook her head. "No. I just carried materials back and forth during that time." Her eyes widened. "I-I was out getting Suri her coffee when-"
Rarity waved her hoof. "Darling, I never dreamed of implying you had a hoof in that dreadful scene she was found in. Actually...what I had determined was that, if I'm not mistaken, all of Suri's more recent lines that weren't 'creative adaptions' were your work, which she took credit for."
Coco glanced away, not meeting Rarity's eyes.
Rarity smiled widely. "Now, you mentioned you were out of work? Am I to assume you are looking for a new occupation?"
Coco nodded. "A-and a new place to live." Her eyes refused to leave the table.
Rarity tilted her head in confusion. "You were...staying with Miss Polomare?"
Coco nodded again, her voice even fainter this time. "So I was...readily available...if she needed anything..."
Having grown up in Gotham and hearing a full history of scandal regarding the behavior of certain 'professionals' - especially in the fashion industry - Rarity's mind jumped to a conclusion she hoped was erroneous. However, she decided to take some action here. "Miss Pommel, the reason I bring this all up...is because I see that you have some real talent, talent I don't want to see squandered."
Coco's eyes perked up. "A-are you by chance looking for an assistant?" she asked desperately.
"I'm afraid not," Rarity replied. "That role is admirably filled already by a dear friend of mine." Seeing Coco's eyes start to fall, Rarity smiled. "However, all things considered...I have been looking for a junior partner."
Coco's eyes widened as she lifted her head, staring at Rarity in disbelief. "You're kidding!" she gasped quietly.
"Not at all," Rarity replied. "A mare of your talents can go far in the fashion industry with the right push...and my own focus on my life is based entirely in my hometown. Fashion, while a passion, will often be sidelined as a secondary concern. I will need someone to help me with my business, to cover for me when I'm called away on other matters...and to handle matters of the business focused elsewhere in Equestria. I think you would be ideal for such a position."
Coco looked intrigued but nervous. "T-that does sound wonderful...b-but where would I live? I...don't exactly have much in terms of savings. Suri...didn't pay well and...I had to pay for things she sent me for out of my own pocket..."
Rarity smiled. "Well, until you've made enough to get your own place wherever you choose to live, I do have a spare guest room in my home and Boutique back in Ponyville." She saw gratitude but hesitation in Coco's eyes, so she took a risk she hoped would be greeted with confusion. "It locks from the inside."
The relief that became visible in Coco's eyes made Rarity sick to her stomach, but she hid it valiantly. "Oh, Miss Rarity, I'd be happy to accept!" Coco's beaming smile gave her a gentle, angelic beauty that wasn't visible before when she looked so downtrodden. "I've been working so long for Suri, I didn't think it was possible to make it in this town without looking out only for yourself. I won't let you down!"
"I'm sure you won't," Rarity reassured her. "Now, do gather your stuff. My friends and I will be returning to Ponyville on the next train, and you wouldn't want to be late!"
As she watched the poor mare bounce happily away, Rarity's mind turned inward. Nightmare, about Suri...
Already on it, Nightmare hissed, rage plainly audible in her thoughts. How far will you allow here?
Rarity's rage was at least as strong as Nightmare's, though it showed not on her face. As she turned towards the train station, she stated her case in her mind. I will not allow her to die.
Much later, Rarity would find self doubt in the fact that she didn't find Nightmare's maniacal cackle disturbing...
Rarity sat calmly before the twin thrones of the Diarchs. She wasn't sure which thought in her mind she should focus on first: Nightmare's rueful pleasure at Luna's throne being returned to its proper place; the possible purpose of this interview she was summoned for; the various recent events that had crossed her path; or how Bruce and Terry were doing in Gotham. However, she quickly cleared her thoughts as Celestia and Luna entered the room, taking their places on the throne. Steady, she cautioned Nightmare in her mind.
You do remember what brought me into being, don't you? Nightmare snarled.
Of course I do now, Rarity replied. But nothing you do here is going to solve anything. Rarity bowed politely to the Diarchs. "Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, she greeted formally. "To what do I owe the honor of this interview?"
Celestia smiled lightly, but Rarity could see where the smile was somewhat strained. "Well, there are a few events that have happened recently that have...caused us some concern."
"We had thought to ignore them, as they seemed relatively minor," Luna added. "However, a much more significant event has occurred, and these events now seem connected. We felt it best to consult with you on the matter. You seemed best placed to give answers, given the nature of the incidents."
Rarity smiled softly, though inside she grew cautious. "I'll help in whatever way I can, though I'm not sure how much I can do."
Celestia smiled. "The first incident of concern regards your new assistant, specifically her former employer."
Rarity snorted disdainfully. "After what I've been able to interpret from bits and pieces regarding that...mare's behavior with poor Coco, I hope you're telling me she's in the hospital or in jail."
"A bit of both, actually," Luna replied curiously. "She's been placed in the mental ward of the Manehatten General Hospital. Apparently, she has gone for several weeks with barely any sleep, and what sleep she has gotten is filled with horrible nightmares. While sleeping, she screams out for somepony to 'leave her alone' or 'help her', sometimes apologizing profusely. While awake, she rants and raves. Since being confined, doctors have witnessed phantom injuries appearing on her body whilst she sleeps, only to vanish moments later."
Rarity tilted her head. "Well...from what I've managed to learn, I can't say she's getting more than she deserves," she replied. "But why ask me?"
"Do you recognize the spell that has been applied to her?" Celestia asked. "It's not a common one."
Rarity scratched her chin. "Well...I've been doing some obscure reading with Twilight in my free time...and it sounds a bit like the Karmic Reprisal. Isn't that the spell that makes someone experience the wrongs they've inflicted upon others from the perspectives of their victims? Twilight mentioned it was one aspect of a Reformation Spell she'd planned as a backup, before Fluttershy proved fully capable of handling Discord."
Celestia frowned briefly, but smoothed her features. "I believe you are correct about the spell."
"The matter of concern," Luna pointed out, "is that from what we've been able to determine, the spell was placed on her shortly after you hired Miss Pommel, and was placed in her dreamscape in such a way that I was unable to perceive that she was having a nightmare."
"Well, such a working is far beyond my abilities," Rarity pointed out. "I'm afraid all I was able to do for Coco was give her a room that locked from the inside, and enroll her in Iron Will's self defense and self assertion courses." After Fluttershy's lack of satisfaction from Iron Will's original seminars, the minotaur had completely reworked his system so that his clients could escape being victims without becoming bullies themselves. A balance between self defense lessons and a gradual increase in self confidence as a result worked well. ...he'd also eliminated his satisfaction guarantee from his business plan.
Oh yes, Nightmare muttered silently. That's all you did to help her.
Hush, Rarity scolded silently. "As far as why you weren't able to perceive it, Luna, I'm afraid that explores details of dream magic that are simply beyond my comprehension. Whoever did it must know your abilities nearly as well as you do."
Nearly?
I said hush.
"Well, as we've been unable to resolve that one," Celestia murmured, "perhaps you could answer a question regarding...your choice of the Ponyville aerial relay team's uniform design for the Equestria Games this year?"
Rarity smiled innocently. "That was actually a bit of a joke on Rainbow Dash, as well as a bit of encouragement for the team as a whole. See, Rainbow had been going on and on about how Cloudsdale was the team to beat, and Cloudsdale was sending the Wonderbolt's...so I thought dressing the Ponyville team as the Shadowbolts was thematically appropriate." She turned to Luna. "I hope you did not find it offensive. I admit in hindsight it might have been insensitive, given how Rainbow first came across the design..."
"That's quite alright," Luna replied. "Personally, I found it rather amusing, and a good point with which to argue with Celestia." She turned her eyes towards her sister. "The Wonderbolts were founded to serve you in many matters after my banishment. I don't fault you for having your own elite team dedicated to your service...but it is only fair I get one as well, and the uniform design already exists..."
Celestia sighed. "We'll talk about it another time, sister," she relented. "However, Rarity...perhaps you could explain your choice of theme for the Ponyville Days festival?"
"Which part?" Rarity asked curiously. "Gothic chic, or the comic book supers theme?"
"Why you thought they went together," Luna replied.
"Well, that's why I was Batmare, after all," Rarity pointed out. "It certainly received excellent reviews." And Spike certainly enjoyed dressing up, she thought happily, remembering how adorable he looked in the Robin outfit.
Slash fiction, Nightmare teased silently.
Hush! Rarity snapped back, suppressing a blush.
"And...then you dressed up Fluttershy as Batmare so she could fill in for Big Mac in the Ponytones anonymously under the influence of Poison Joke?" Celestia asked.
"It worked out rather well, I must admit," Rarity pointed out. "Dear Fluttershy got to experience what it was like to perform in front of a crowd without the sense of everyone watching her. She quite enjoyed it, considering how many repeat performances she requested."
"There's another matter of concern of mine," Luna added. "Recently, I assisted Sweetie Belle with a certain...nightmare of hers, and she spoke of certain bedtime stories you'd been telling her? She wouldn't tell me what they were, but mentioned waking up one night to discover you had...bat wings?"
Celestia had been sipping her tea at that point. Rarity's reflexes deflected the spray of tea with her wings, flipping them in front of her as a shield before the liquid touched her, and then shaking them dry. "Oh, these things?" she asked deprecatingly. "I just woke up with them one night. Since neither of you showed up and made a fuss like you did when Twilight sprouted wings, I figured they weren't important like hers were, so I didn't make a fuss either. Besides, Twilight was having such a hard time adjusting to being a Princess, I didn't want to add another headache to her plate if they did signify something."
Celestia and Luna exchanged glances, and Luna then spoke up. "We'll get to that," she said finally. "There is another matter that I feel we must address. ...recently, I received a premonition that an old enemy of ours, Tirek, had escaped Tartarus and was once again stealing magic."
Rarity gasped. "That's terrible! But...shouldn't you be informing Twilight?"
"I would...except that not minutes after I witnessed him draining magic from a pony in the vision, I witnessed him slain by a creature resembling Nightmare Moon."
Rarity was glad her coat was white, as her paling was not visible. "Oh? Do tell."
"She approached and drove a dagger into his skull right between his horns, and the magic he had stolen returned to the ponies it was stolen from."
You didn't tell me you killed him! Rarity hissed internally.
I was operating completely independent of you, and he eats magic! Nightmare hissed back. If I hadn't, he would have eaten me!
...fair enough.
Luna levitated out Tirek's corpse. "This dagger was found embedded in his skull when he was found," Luna replied, gesturing to the blade. "Perhaps, Rarity, you could explain why it was enchanted so that only a specific magical wavelength could pull the hilt from the wound...your magical wavelength?"
You might have mentioned that before I went after a magic eating demon, Nightmare scolded.
Well, cat's out of the bag now, Rarity thought silently. She sighed. "It's a long story, your highness. But the dagger is mine. A gift from a friend in another world." She cast a light spell. When the light faded, she had donned her true bat suit. "The hilt is keyed to my magical signature, so it can't be used against me. The crossgaurd is null alloy, which prevents the magical nature of the hilt from influencing or being influenced by the blade. The blade is nth metal, a special alloy that neutralizes magical fields. That's why it sent all the stolen magic back."
Celestia gaped. "Who could you have gotten such an artifact from?" she demanded.
"It was a gift from an adoptive older brother, one Richard Grayson," Rarity explained. "And...there's someone else who should speak up here." Talk.
Nightmare let out a sigh through Rarity's lips. "Not how I expected this meeting to go," Nightmare replied. "It's...something to see you both again."
Celestia and Luna both gasped. "Nightmare?" Celestia whispered.
"But how?" Luna demanded. "You were purged-"
"Actually, I was just sealed away deep in Rarity's psyche," Nightmare replied. "One night, I wished I could be free of that prison. The present situation is the result of Discord granting that wish."
"Discord," Celestia muttered. "I might have known. If you'll both excuse me..." Getting to her hooves, she left the throne room.
Luna walked forward. "And...the bat wings? And...the rest of the situation?"
"I believe Bruce Wayne would be better off explaining these things," Nightmare replied. "The portal back to Gotham is in Rarity's basement. Just be sure to tell Bruce Rarity gave you permission to visit. He's a brilliant detective, a determined fighter, and has the strongest will of anyone I've ever encountered. You'll like him."
Luna tilted her head. "You're probably right. I just might. Do I have that permission, Rarity?"
"Certainly," Rarity replied. "But...what about...all this?"
Luna drew in her magic and cast a spell over Rarity, examining her magical aura. "Well, this is just my opinion, but considering your magic is that of a recently ascended alicorn, that makes you the Princess of Gotham City by Equestrian standards...so I'm pretty sure you have diplomatic immunity." With a smile, she turned to head off. "Keep a tighter leash on Nightmare, and I don't believe we'll need to speak of any of this ever again." She vanished in a teleport spell.
Rarity stared. "That was...unexpected."
She's certainly changed. Still think she'll like Bruce. I hope you like calling Luna Mom.
Wait, what?
Epilogue: Rise of Batmane
Luna carefully walked down the steps, her saddlebags lightly weighed down with the things she'd chosen to bring with her. Glancing around as she entered the massive cavern the stairs descended into, she could tell that most who entered the cave unwelcome would find it quite frightening, likely driving them to flee. However, to her it was quite homey. Deep within the Earth, shrouded in the dark of night, bats fluttering here and there through the stalactites, the only light that which visitors brought with them into this hidden abyss...she felt quite at home down here.
As she set her hoof down on the floor of the cavern, a voice startled her. "Not the face I expected to see when the motion sensors were tripped. Then again, Rarity usually calls ahead when she's coming for a visit."
Turning, Luna saw a human male, his body only just beginning to give in to the ravages of time. His white hair still had a few stray bits of black, and his eyes were old and wise, filled with caution but showing a gentle kindness. He sat at a chair before a massive computer system unlike anything Luna had ever seen, dressed in faded purple. While his visage was somewhat intimidating, this was balanced by the fact that Sweetie Belle was sitting on his shoulder, stretching her body out towards his hand like a cat as she sucked on a popsicle he held for her.
"Hi Princess Luna!" Sweetie said happily, before pouncing Bruce's extended hand, rolling onto the floor as she caught the popsicle.
Bruce chuckled at her antics. "How do you do...Princess?" he asked, his words showing a balance between respect and cynicism.
Luna smiled. "Quite well, thank you...Bruce, was it?" she asked. "Rarity said I could visit you. Her...friend ...suggested you might be able to give me more details regarding her story, and that we might get along well."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "You are acquainted with Rarity's...friend?" he asked cautiously.
Luna nodded. "Intimately. It is history for me."
Luna couldn't help but smile as she watched Bruce rapidly put the pieces together. Seeing the sudden smirk cross his face, she wondered just how many pieces he had been able to intuit from what she'd said...and what she hadn't said. "I think we have a great deal to talk about then," he said, pressing a few buttons on the computer. The display on the screen changed.
"Sweet!" Sweetie Belle shouted, grabbing a controller. "Button's never going to know what hit him once I've finished practicing!" She then proceeded to play the game Bruce had loaded up for her.
Bruce stood up, leading Luna over to a table where tea was already set up. He sat in a chair on one side, while Luna sat on her haunches on the other side. She chuckled as a large hound walked up calmly to say high. "And this?" she asked, running one hoof between the dog's ears.
"This is Ace," Bruce explained, smirking as he saw Ace start licking the Princess's face. "He's been rather fond of Rarity, and Sweetie Belle since she started visiting, so it could be he just likes ponies."
"Hardly an unprecedented preference," Luna murmured, picking up a few of the dreams of the city's sleeping citizens. "While we speak, here is one thing I'd like to explore. Rarity implied that you were exceptionally mentally gifted."
Bruce gave a modest tilt of his head. "I have my moments," he replied.
"While we speak, I wonder if it would be alright if I tested you in that regard?" she asked archly.
Bruce smirked. "What did you have in mind?"
Smirking, Luna levitated a board and sixteen carved figurines from her saddlebags. "Tell me...might your world have some variant of the game I know of as Chess?"
Bruce smirked. "I believe so." He glanced over the pieces, and how Luna was setting them up. "It doesn't look like - beyond terminology - it will be much different."
Luna smiled as she finished setting up the board. On one side from the middle outward was Celestia, Twilight, two Fluttershys, two Applejacks, two Shining Armors, and a row of white armored pegasi, all garbed in gold. On the other side was Luna, Cadence, two Raritys, two Rainbow Dashs, two Pinkie Pies, and a row of thestrals, all garbed in dark blue. "Shall we play Diurnal or Nocturnal?" Luna asked.
Bruce smiled. "I take it those are two different styles of play based on who goes first?"
Luna nodded. "Indeed. The game is always played best of three, with players switching which side they play each game."
"In that case, let's play Nocturnal," Bruce replied. "Ladies first."
Luna smiled warmly, then rotated the board so the night side was in front of Bruce. "I shall let you move first the first game," she replied.
Bruce smiled, his hand snaking forward for a piece.
Terry stretched as he changed out of the Batsuit after his long patrol. Hearing the clip-clop of hooves, he perked up, hoping to see Rarity. However, instead he saw two ponies he didn't recognize. "Umm..."
"Hi!" the smaller one said. "I'm Sweetie Belle, Rarity's little sister!"
Terry smiled down at the unicorn. "I'm Terry...kinda sorta Rarity's little brother."
"Little?" Sweetie asked with a raised eyebrow.
Terry chuckled. "All evidence to the contrary, yes."
"Do you have anything to eat?" Sweetie asked desperately.
Terry chuckled. "Didn't Bruce feed you?"
"Ever since he and Princess Luna started playing Chess, neither has a moment of attention for me," Sweetie replied. "They've been playing forever !"
Terry chuckled. "One game can't take that long."
"It's best out of three."
Terry laughed, scooping Sweetie Belle up. "Well, I'll get you something to eat from the kitchen. What game are they on?"
"37," Sweetie sighed dramatically.
"But you said they were playing best out of three!"
"Princess Luna won the first game because Bruce didn't fully understand the Last Stand rules, of how the Diarch piece's movement changes when one side has only one piece left," Sweetie explained. "Bruce won the second game with a surprise strategy based around that mechanic. The past 34 games have ended in stalemates."
"Yikes!" Terry exclaimed. "Didn't think anyone could match the old man like that."
As the sun began to rise over Gotham, Luna realized it was time for her to head back to Equestria and lower the moon. "How many stalemates is that?" she asked.
"64," Bruce replied, rubbing his eyes. After the first dozen or so games, the two of them had begun to get a handle on each other's play styles, and the games had started going faster. While the first few games lasted between 10 and 40 minutes, they eventually started resembling Blitz Chess as their pieces blurred across the board, the only limit on the time each move took being how fast Bruce could move his arm.
"Art thou well?" Luna asked in concern. "We...I had forgotten the limits of mortal bodies."
Bruce smiled. "Quite alright," Bruce replied. "My body is tired, but if schedule permitted, I could probably go for another dozen games or so." He chuckled. "I haven't had this level of mental gymnastics since that time The Riddler trapped me in a virtual reality quiz labyrinth. Invigorating."
Luna smiled coquettishly. "Perhaps this evening would have been more enjoyable had I spent the games asking about your story, rather than your daughter's," Luna replied.
Bruce smiled. "Challenging my mind with a lovely young woman as she listens to me talk about myself?" Bruce asked. "Few men could imagine a better way to spend an evening at my age."
Luna chuckled. "While flattering of you to say, you are the one who is but a foal compared to me," she teased. She frowned, a thought crossing her mind. There was something she could do here, and - oddly - she found herself wanting to. However, if she did, Celestia was likely to never let her hear the end of it. After a time of thought, she decided it would be worth it. "Bruce, you seem to have a great deal of experience and wisdom. I feel that my Night Guard - nay, all of Equestria - might benefit from it."
Bruce smiled. "Equestria, from all I've heard, seems like a nice place to visit if you're young." He shook his head. "I doubt my heart could handle the change if I were to visit now."
"I actually know of a spell that could restore your youthful energies, vigor, and stamina for another century or more," Luna pointed out.
Bruce's eyes narrowed. "What's the catch?"
Luna smiled, pleased to be able to speak with one who was both brilliant and direct, while still respectful. "To be blunt, the spell will not make you a young man. It will make you...a young stallion."
"...how young?" Bruce asked after a time.
"Physically, about double Rarity's age," Luna replied. "Ponies age at a different rate from humans, so you won't start to face senescence for another century or more...and that's if you don't take good care of yourself."
"And what would this do to my mind?" he asked.
"If you mean to your conscious mind - the part that holds your persona, your thoughts, your memories - nothing," Luna countered. "The only thing it will change of how your mind works is the subconscious aspect, the part that controls your limbs and involuntary systems, to adjust to having a different body."
Bruce thought about that for a time. Luna could see in his eyes that the offer was tempting. "...what guarantee do I have that this is all the spell will do to me? That it won't, for example, implant any subconscious trigger to let you control my actions?"
Had he asked this of Celestia - or just about any other unicorn in Equestria - they would have been so offended that the offer would have been immediately withdrawn, and Bruce likely would have received a hoof to the cheek at high speed. Luna, however, smiled. This was the man who had raised Rarity to be able to tame Nightmare, the one Nightmare had said had the strongest will she had ever seen. Luna was pleased to see he lived up to all the praise he had received. "I have one oath I can give," Luna replied. "If any of Rarity's previous life bled through while you were raising her, then you will know this oath as unbreakable, if not why." Sitting up straighter, she began the motions. "Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye, my spell will do no more and no less than what I have stated."
Bruce frowned. While he didn't recognize the oath and it seemed somewhat childish, the sheer solemnity with which Luna gave it - and the fact that Ace's ears went back and every bat in the cave froze stock still (even those in mid-flight) while it was being spoken - led him to believe it carried some sort of Equestrian magic behind it. "I will accept your offer," he said.
Luna smiled. "Very well, please stand up." As he did so, she stepped around so she'd have a clear spell path. "Do you have any last questions before I cast the spell?"
"Just two," Bruce replied. "What kind of pony will I become?"
"That depends on your own DNA," Luna replied as she charged her horn. "What is your last question?"
Bruce looked her right in the eye. "Will it hurt?" he asked, his voice level, showing neither concern nor fear but idle curiosity, almost as though - if it would hurt - he looked forward to testing his mettle against one last physical hurdle before he left being human behind.
Luna smiled. "To be perfectly honest, I have no idea. While the magical formula is sound, and the limited mental effects has been confirmed...I've never actually cast this spell before."
"Wait, what-"
Bruce was cut off as the blast of magic impacted his body, and he was enveloped by a blazing white light.
Luna smirked as the light faded. "Gotcha."
Bruce frowned as he pushed himself to his hooves. "Not. Funny," he scolded, then blinked. His voice sounded much younger than he was used to. Turning towards a blank computer screen, he took in his reflection.
His coat was the same dark bluish-grey as his eyes. His mane and tail were a blue so dark as to be almost black. His ears were large, sharply pointed, and tufted at the edges. Bat wings spread from his back, and he found it relatively easy to fold and unfold them. He noticed a mark on his flank: a red shield with something dripping off the bottom. He wasn't sure if it was supposed to be rust or blood. He also noticed that he was just as fit as he had been when he first donned the cape and cowl.
He wasn't the only one who noticed. "Woof!" Luna said without fully meaning to as she took in his changed form.
Bruce turned to look at her, and noticed one thing Luna might have overlooked as far as the changes the spell worked on him. It effected his instincts for his form...specifically, in this case, those covering physical attraction to one's own species. Seeing her eyes lock on his, he knew she realized it as well.
Smirking, he threw her a wink.
Take Your Daughter to Work Day
Bruce stood by the door, glancing at his watch, seeing time ticking away. Grumbling to himself, he looked up. "Rarity!" he called out. "We need to get going!"
"Just a minute, Father!" she called out happily from upstairs. She had become much more vocal ever since her last front tooth came in and she lost her lisp. She had, in fact, refused to go out where she would have to talk with anyone else until that happened, which was why this had been delayed so long as it was.
Bruce grumbled under his breath, leaning back against the wall again. After waiting a while longer, he glanced at his watch again before calling out, "Rarity! We're going to be late!"
"Coming, Father!" she called back, clip-clopping down the stairs. She was wearing a rather pretty blue sundress and silver hoofshoes, along with a ruby pendant Bruce recognized as having belonged to his mother.
Bruce blinked. "Where did you get the outfit?"
"I made it," Rarity explained. "I ordered the materials online. I was hoping to surprise you. Does it look good, Father?"
Bruce smiled. "It looks very good. And...the pendant?"
"My magic showed me an old jewelry box in the attic," she explained. "It had so much lovely jewelry in it, so well made too...I just couldn't leave it moldering up there! So I brought it down to my room to wear with some of the outfits I've made myself. Is that alright?"
Bruce was silent for a time. "...that was my Mother's jewelry box," he says at last.
"Oh dear," Rarity gasps, putting her hoof gently to the pendant. "Do you think she'll mind?"
Bruce winced internally. For all Rarity had taken to calling him Father and behaving as though they were already family - which they were only a few days of paperwork processing away from being - she still didn't know the family history. "...I don't think she'll mind," he said at last. He didn't want to upset Rarity just now. She had already begun showing a flare for dramatic behavior when appropriate, and they didn't really have time for a storm of weeping.
Rarity smiled happily. "Will I get to meet Grandma?" she asked hopefully.
"...someday," Bruce said at last, opening the door. "Come on, it's time to head into the office."
Rarity let out a happy squeal, prancing over to the car. "Can I drive?" she asked eagerly.
"No," Bruce replied immediately and firmly.
At the office, Bruce was surprised at how well things went. He had three goals in bringing Rarity to the office, and so far all three showed good progress.
The first had been to test and see if Rarity's skills at Day Trading - which she described as 'finding rare gems in the market' - could be applied to situations in the work place. So far, she had already identified three employees with underutilized talents that could benefit the company through a lateral move just by talking to them, and that was before they had even made it to Bruce's office to go over paperwork.
The second was to see how she handled herself with other people. While her reallocation of personnel proved that she knew how to manage people, it didn't demonstrate social skills. However, she quickly proved adept there, as she proved able to recall many details of anyone she met in the company every time she saw them, and engaged in small talk quite easily.
The third goal had to do with how she addressed him. Given how her talents had shown, he had already set things in motion to clear the adoption paperwork to make her legally his daughter(1), he wanted to test the waters at the company to see how his employees felt regarding his new daughter...especially regarding the possibility of her being his heir, and eventually becoming head of the company. So far, she seemed to be getting a favorable reaction from the personnel. Those that didn't coo over how adorable she was were impressed with how she handled herself, and her mere presence seemed to reassure many of the lower level workers, especially after all the worry which had become palpable since the beginning of Powers' hostile takeover attempt, which - prior to Rarity's arrival - had slowly been gaining momentum.
So far, his plans seemed to be bearing fruit, and Rarity - for her part - seemed to absolutely love working with the company and managing things. She had already found several accounting errors and missed details that allowed for a drastic improvement in efficiency. Bruce wasn't sure if she was simply that good at spotting errors or if her magic was letting her 'sense' where things didn't quite add up.
At the moment, Bruce was waiting on a rather unpleasant meeting coming up. As per usual, Powers would be coming in to once again attempt to convince him to sell the company, or at least a large enough portion of it for Powers to execute a merger. Hoping to keep Rarity from being a focus of attention - or discussion - he had given her another mobile unit to play with at a desk off to the side. Last he checked, she was day trading again.
At that moment, Powers came in. "Bruce!" he said expansively. "So good to see you again!"
"Powers," Bruce replied curtly.
"Oh come now, Bruce," Powers continued, still trying to be friendly. "I was hoping, what with our upcoming business arrangement, we could be friends! We will be working together after-"
"That arrangement won't be going through, Powers," Bruce interrupted. "I've made other arrangements. I have other plans for my family's company."
Powers' smile flickered briefly. "Come now, Mr. Wayne," he continued. "Don't you think you're being just a bit stubborn? You've built up the company so well...you'll have to retire one of these days. Wouldn't you rather the company held together? Isn't it time to pass the torch to a younger man?"
"Or perhaps a younger mare?" Rarity suddenly spoke up, levitating her unit aside, still manipulating the holo-display as she turned her attention to Powers, her forehooves crossed over her barrel as she stared at him over half-moon sunglasses.
Powers blinked, having been caught off guard. "And you are?" he asked sweetly, condescendingly.
"Rarity Wayne," Rarity said firmly. "Father's been introducing me to the workings of the family company." Her smirk could have been friendly, but Bruce bet it was in response to the back step Powers had taken at her emphasis. "And I don't see why Father would want to get into business with your company, Mr. Powers, all things considered."
"Oh?" Powers asked. "And why is that?"
Bruce watched carefully. He could see that Powers was starting to get a bit unsteady. Something Rarity was saying was getting to him, putting him off his game, and he was interested in seeing what her plan was.
"Well, it's just that several of your recent business decisions seem rather...questionable," Rarity explained. She brought the comp unit back to in front of her. "Your recent explorations of the arms market appears to have over extended your company's capital, and despite your reports to your investors, unless you're able to accomplish this merger with Wayne Enterprises - or acquire a rather large dose of liquid capital - you may yet have to file for bankruptcy...especially as those weapons you decided to invest in producing proved less than effective, especially with the new generation of body armor Wayne Enterprises has provided for law enforcement and the military." She smiled sweetly. "You know, you really should have a clean house before you try to buy your way into someone else's."
Bruce narrowed his eyes as he watched this interchange. Powers was actually sweating! He didn't know where Rarity got this information, or what she was planning to do with it, but she was playing Powers like a fiddle.
Moments later, Powers' mobile unit went off with an alert. "A moment," he said, taking it out of his pocket and checking the display. After a moment, his grin turned vicious, and he confirmed a transaction of some sort. After a time, the unit confirmed that the transaction was complete. "I don't think that's something you - or I - need to worry about anymore, Miss Wayne."
"Oh, do you mean the seven billion dollars you just acquired for your personal stock shares in your company?" Rarity asked sweetly. "Voting share at that...a full 25% of the voting shares if I'm not mistaken. Rather risky to let go of that much control of your own company, don't you think?"
Bruce felt his eyes widen in shock as Powers face paled. "How could you possibly-" Powers began.
"Oh, and to someone with the username 'Lady Mysterious'?" Rarity continued. "Certainly a risky venture, to give so much over to someone about whom you only know that they have the funds and...'a vested interest in the outcomes of your dealings'?" As Powers' face contorted in rage, Rarity sat back in her chair. "I think you'd best consult with your investors before you make any more big decisions about your company. You may find things have changed drastically."
Powers growled. "A minor setback," he grunted. "Still not enough to control the direction of the board of investors, and when they learn you're-"
"Oh, but 'Lady Mysterious' isn't my only anonymous account I Day Trade with," Rarity interrupted. "It's perfectly legal to use multiple anonymous accounts after all. Perhaps you'd best check your Board members list again. A few names to keep an eye out for...PrettyPonyPrincess, RareGem, DiamondGirl, and PinkPuppy?"
Blinking in confusion, Powers looked at the list of his Board of Investors, and discovered that many of those with voting shares had recently sold theirs off for triple their current market value. Four particular accounts had acquired those portions of the voting shares in Powers Technologies.
PrettyPonyPrincess owned 5% of the voting shares.
RareGem owned 10%.
DiamondGirl owned another 5%.
And PinkPuppy owned 6%.
Powers slumped in on himself like a puppet whose strings had just been cut. He glowered at Rarity. She had, right under his nose and in the same room as him, played him like a lute and become the majority shareholder in his company...right under his nose. With one last glower, he turned and stormed out.
"Have a nice day now, darling!" Rarity called after him. As soon as the door was closed, she fell back in her chair and giggled. "Oh, Father, that was so much fun! Are any of your other business rivals such mean-spirited idiots?"
Bruce chuckled. "No, Rarity, he was the only one."
"Pity," she sighed. "Still, it was quite fun."
"Rather amusing to watch, as well," Bruce admitted. "Just one thing, though...PinkPuppy?"
Rarity tittered. "Well, Ace was so adorable when I prettied him up that I just had to take a picture with your camera. I was at a loss coming up with new account names, and that picture made the perfect avatar, so..."
"Ah," Bruce replied, nodding his understanding. He sat back, watching Rarity as she went back to shifting happily between day trading and company paperwork.
His suspicions were confirmed. He had felt her intellectual development was outstripping her physical development by a good margin. Short of her being a member of a race of 'miniature ponies', there was no biological reason for that. Which implied a magical reason. Her easy handling of Powers confirmed his suspicion that it was not only natural talent, but suppressed experience that was allowing her to handle such things so easily. This meant she had undergone some form of age regression.
The only questions that left was how, why...and how to prepare her for what would come.
(1) The Alien Foundling Act of 2030, as passed by the UN at the urging of the Justice League, stated quite plainly that an infant that arrived from the stars, the depths of the sea, another plane of existence, or another dimension could be claimed as ward and child of the one who found them if the child proved to be content in the arrangement one year after arrival. It also stated that entities from the Foundling's point of origin who shared enough genetic commonality with the Foundling to be identified as parents would have to prove justification for the child being lost and why to reclaim them outside that one year time period. The act was instated to be retroactive, so Superman - as Clark Kent - didn't have to worry about legal issues involving his legal lineage.
When Joker regained his senses, his vision was cast with a green sheen, and white text seemed to scroll across his eyes. "What? What the-? What's going on? This isn't funny!"
"That depends on who you ask," a familiar voice addressed him. "I find this highly amusing."
The Joker tried to turn to the source of the voice, but nothing happened. "Who's that?" he demanded.
Footsteps echoed, and Bruce Wayne entered his vision. "Hello, Joker," he said in a gravely voice.
"Brucey!" Joker said happily. "So good to see you! I have to say, Bats, I've never seen you look so...pathetic."
Bruce smirked in response. "I think that's my line," he replied, holding up a mirror so Joker could see his own reflection.
He saw a metal circle with a green light in the center with various circuitry coming off of it...plugged into a pair of potatoes.
"What have you done to me?" Joker demanded, aghast.
"Plugged your microchip into a machine that can let you talk and perceive the world around you without the benefit of self-locomotion," Bruce explained. "The two potatoes were the minimum of what we needed to keep your higher brain functions active like this. So we could talk."
"Two potatoes?" Joker demanded angrily. "Is that what I've been reduced to?"
"Originally it was one potato," Bruce replied. "It looked something like this," he continued, showing Joker a picture . "But every time you got into an emotional outburst, you shut down, and didn't remember any of it when we turned you back on. The two potatoes provide just enough power for you to talk and throw a tantrum."
Joker was just on the verge of an emotional tirade when he realized that wasn't the way to regain whatever control of the situation he could manage. "So what now, Bats? Put me here in your cave with all your other rogue relics? Only this one can talk?"
"Actually, this was Rarity's idea," Bruce replied. "When we found the microchip on Tim Drake that let you take over him - physically and mentally - she felt it would be a good way for both of us to get closure."
Joker began to chuckle menacingly. "And that was her only thought when she found I'd stored my mind, my DNA, my very essence into a microchip that - when put on a person - will make them become me in time? Oh, you have chosen your successor poorly, Bats."
"And why's that?" Bruce asked curiously.
"Just this," Joker replied wickedly. "Think how much technology - especially microchips and data processing - has progressed in the 50 years since I made that chip." He laughed aloud. "Imagine how easy it would have been for me to...make copies. More advanced copies, ones that don't take so long to complete the transformation? And between splicing technology and the availability of things like Bane's Serum...how much more dangerous each successive me will..." Joker's voice trailed off as he heard the one thing he never thought to hear.
Bruce Wayne was laughing at him. A loud, long, belly laugh of sheer delighted humor.
"What?" Joker demanded angrily. "What's the joke? That wasn't the joke that was supposed to make you laugh!"
When Bruce calmed down, he was still grinning smugly. "So that was it? That was why your attack plan was so poor? You wanted to get captured and interrogated? You wanted to implant that nightmare of an endless stream of newer, deadlier Jokers plaguing the streets of Gotham?"
"Did you really think I'd stop at just Gotham with a project like this, Bats?" Joker crowed. "Before too long - possibly already - there will be Jokers in every city on the planet, spreading my own brand of comedic crime to a new generation! Each as fiendishly clever as the original, but with whatever skills their poor, hapless host has at their disposal, and whatever other resources they can bring to bear!"
Bruce's smile turned wicked. "Thank you for telling me that, Joker. Rarity can now justify the plan of action she'd already set out to do."
"Oh?" Joker asked. "What's that?"
Bruce stood up. "The moment she learned you were on a microchip, she knew there was a possibility of backup copies. She also knew that it meant your plan wasn't limited to Gotham anymore. And she knew the protocols regarding a worldwide supervillain threat."
"W-what are you saying, Brucey?" Joker asked nervously. "What did you let her do?"
"I don't let her do anything, Joker," Bruce countered. "She's an adult now, capable of making her own decisions. And in regards to you, she made the one decision I'd never have made." He slowly stood up. "She turned the matter of the Joker chips over to the Justice League."
If the Joker had a face still, it would have gone pale under the face paint. "She didn't! "
Bruce smirked. "Another major difference between her and me you didn't see coming. She doesn't have any problems asking for help with her problems. She already recruited an apprentice, since she doesn't care who protects Gotham and the planet...as long as it's protected . She doesn't send her villains to Arkham; she researches them and determines how to reintegrate them as productive members of society immediately . She doesn't even see them as her villains. For me, this was always personal. I had to protect Gotham myself.
"But protection isn't her only goal. She wants Gotham to flourish. And she knows she can't do that alone." His smile turned soft. "It's not a mission for her. It's an ideal. She dons the mask of Batmare because she wants to make a world where Batman - any Batman - is no longer necessary. Every bit along the way where she makes herself obsolete she sees as a victory.
"And I couldn't be more proud of her." He turned to go. "And you've got your closure, Joker. According to Terry, the reason you kept coming back is because you were desperate to get a laugh out of me. You've succeeded. Goodbye, Joker. You - none of you - will likely never cross paths with the Bat - any Bat - ever again."
As he walked out of Vault J, Joker screamed in impotent rage and frustration. "I'll make you pay somehow Bats! Somehow, someday, you will pay!"
Many decades later, long after Bruce died of old age and the world had ceased to need a Bat - or any superhero - a new branch of Wayne Enterprises took the tech left behind by old villains to research into it ways to improve the lives of the people of the world. This included the contents of Vault J, and the scientists were in awe of how an AI could be stored and powered so simply.
As such, the Joker chip was plugged into the core computer of the facility as the basis of the primary control AI. Joker himself remained silent through all of this, saving his mischief. He knew he would gain a new opportunity soon enough.
When a human brain scan was used to program the central control AI, he had his chance. A relatively innocent, previously subservient female, already used to obeying crazy directives. It was like having Harley Quinn all over again!
He chuckled internally, awaiting the slow, subtle manipulations he would use to twist this innocent into a monster...a monster of science. He laughed as he remembered the slogan of this new company.
We do what we must, because we can.
