CHAPTER 2: She is the Night


Lieutenant James Gordon rubbed his grey brow as he went over some files on his desk. The racketeering, the acts of gangland violence, it was becoming too much for him. The fact that most of these shady characters were getting off with nary a slap on the wrist even led him to suspect that there was corruption on the force. The thought made him cringe. Back when he was a young patrolman out on the beat, Gotham was such a nice place.. Ever since the depression, however, things had gone to pot, crime had increased, morale had gone down, and Gotham didn't seem so nice anymore.

Suddenly, Gordon's thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of the intercom that sat on his desk. He wearily pressed down the switch. "Yes?" He asked.

"Sorry to bother you, Lieutenant, but there's been a grisly discovery under the 7th avenue bridge, bodies stacked in a pile, looks like another mob job, Commissioner Loeb wants you to head out with the boys and check it out." Said the concerned voice of his secretary.

[Here we go again..] Gordon thought before saying "Thanks, Nicole." without enthusiasm.

"Oh, and Lieutenant, your wife called and said she hopes you are able to come to dinner, and your daughter said she loves you." His secretary continued.

"Thanks again."

Gordon then rose from his seat and donned his coat from the rack. He took a pack of Malboro's from his desk droor. He knew that he would probably use up the whole pack before dawn broke the next morning..


The massive aircraft landed with a somewhat jolting bump on the runway, the large propellers all dying down at the same time. The passengers began to disembark, heading to either the waiting arms of their family or lover, or regretfully returning to work after a joyful vacation abroad. For the stonefaced, resolute heiress Lucy Wayne, clothed in a form-fitting black dress, she was entering the battleground soon to come. The frontlines of her personal war on crime. Some additional training would have to be done to keep her mind and body sharp, but overall, she was practically ready..ready to show the thugs and slime that this city was no longer theirs. It would be quite a rude awakening.

Just as planned, the lily white limousine was waiting for her at the airport's entrance, the chauffeur in full uniform holding the back door open for her. Lucy simply and quite rudely stared ahead and gave no answer or even a friendly smile at the driver's "Welcome back, Miss Wayne!" Instead, she simply handed him her luggage and entered the vehicle. The driver shrugged and placed the heavy bags into the trunk, and closed the back door before entering himself and pulled away from his parking place.


Alfred was already waiting at Wayne Manor's lavish front door as the limo passed the gates and pulled up. "Miss Lucy! It's so good to see you again!"  The rotund butler said with a tear of joy in his eye as the young heiress made her slow, deliberate exit.

"Thanks, Alfred. I really appreciate it. It's good to see you too.." Lucy said without much emotion in her voice.

"Is..Is something ever the matter?" Alfred asked with concern, the smile melting from his aged, cherubic face.

"No..No, I'm fine. I'm just a little tired is all." Lucy said, passing by her old caretaker without a sideways glance.

"Is there anthing I can do for you?" Alfred said after a short pause.

"You could help Walter there with my bags." She said distantly, her back still to him, before turning around with an apologetic smile and saying warmly "And, if you're not too busy, could you fix me a bowl of hot tomato soup...and a drink of water?"

The smile returned to Alfred's face, as he spoke those words he hadn't in what seemed like a lifetime, "Anything for a maiden in distress, Miss Lucy.."


The man with the swollen face was thrown into the well furnished study by two bulky goons. They closed the two doors behind themselves and stood blocking them with their arms crossed in an intimidating manner.

Carmine "The Roman" Falcone, the aged head of one of Gotham's most prominant and brutal crime families, nicknamed so because of his profile resembling that of Ceasar's on an ancient Roman coin, sat behind his fancy oak desk, covered by a green baize cloth, in the middle of reading a book, a pair of reading glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. "What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?" he calmly asked.

One of the heavies, a large man with a brown crew cut and an ugly boil on his cheek pointed down at the poor soul, saying "Stevie here wuz gunna rat on us regardin' our little "rendezvous" at da docks!"

Falcone slowly closed his book and removed his glasses, before looking down at the young man and smiling sinesterly. "Is that true, Stevie? Are you selling us out?" He asked in a voice that sounded like a parent scolding a child.

"N-No! NO! Honest, Mr. Falcone! I'd never betray you! You've gotta believe me! You've gotta.."

"Take him out back and plug him. Dump him in the harbor." Falcone interrupted in the middle of the man's pleading. The two thugs immediately grabbed poor Stevie by his collar and pulled him back through the doors and out into the hallway of the lavish mansion.

"PLEASE! PLEASE, BOSS!! I'M NOT LYIN'! PLEASE!!!" Stevie's pathetic cries echoed off of the walls.

Carmine nonchalantly ran his finger along his black, pencil thin moustache, and said quietly to himself "Maybe you're guilty, Stevie, and maybe you aren't. But with stakes this high, I can't take no chances.." Before applying his glasses and reopening his book.


Lucy sat in a cushioned red velvet chair in the parlour, dressed in a violet linen robe, a lukewarm bowl of soup and a half-drunken glass of water on the table next to her. Her appitite had left her unexpectedly. It was humid, so she had opened the lavish window in the room. The heiress looked up at the picture of her parents on the fireplace mantle with steady, unblinking eyes. [Father, Mother, I don't want your deaths to have been in vain.] She thought. [I don't want the criminals of this city to run rampant and do as they please.. I want to be a symbol to them.. A symbol so frightening and intimidating that they no longer wish to prey upon the innocent who are too weak to protect themselves. I want them to no longer fear walking the streets at night. Mother, Father, help me.. Give me a sign..]

Suddenly, there was a fluttering noise and a shrill screech! Lucy's eyes widened to see a large black bat soar in through the window like a guided missle! The fightening looking animal fluttered around the room several times before coming to rest on the mantle!

"Of course! That's it!" Lucy exclaimed, jumping up from her chair with a start, frightening the creature back out the window. Walking over to the window and looking at the silvery full moon, she said resolutely "Villains are a superstitious and cowardly lot! They fear terrifying creatures such as bats, and they would certainly fear one that matches their size! That settles it!" She said, snapping her fingers with a confident smile. "I shall become A BAT!" She then turned to the picture of her parents with a glimmer in her eyes "Thank you, Mother, Father.." Before rushing off to her room.

Once in her bedroom, Lucy headed stright for her massive closet, which was almost as large as an average garage! Her depressed demeanor temporarily vanquished, the young heiress took a dark grey ballet leotard that had been gathering dust and placed it on her queen sized bed. She then retrieved a large amount of black cloth, black leather gloves, a pair of slick looking leather boots, and a pair of plain black panties. Sitting down at her bedside table, she thought over how her costume should be put together, what it should look like. Then, after coming to a decision, she stood and pulled off her robe. Completely nude now, Lucy set to work. She sat at her sewing machine and took to the black cloth and began shaping a mask at the top of it, forming two modest pointed bat ears on the crown. With a pair of scissors she was able to craft a pair of eyeholes that were big enough for her to see out of, yet small enough to cover the top half of her face. She looked it over. Viola! A mask and long flowing cape! To add some flair to it, Lucy then took scissors to the hem of the cape, cutting a sinister sharpened design to the very bottom. Lucy then took a paintbrush and black paint from a drawer and painted, quite skillfully, a stylized bat symbol on the leotard's chest area. Then, while waiting for it to dry, she retrieved an ammunition belt she had bought while traveling abroad, filling it with shurikens, smoke bombs, and other ninja accessories.

Once the paint had dried, Lucy donned the leotard, it cast a mold over the sexy contours of her body,her proudly large breasts quite evident. She followed with the briefs, belt, gloves, boots and, upon looking stoically at herself in the full-body mirror, she slowly and deliberately donned the cowl. She knew now that this was the moment of her true rebirth.. Lucy decided that along with disgusing her face, she must also disguise her voice to avoid giving herself away. She experimented for a few moments, using the techniques she had learned in speech class so many years ago, before settling on a slightly deep, dark and menacing, yet somehow sensual tone. Then, putting it to good use for an invisible audience. "Gotham, your days of cowering in fear are soon to be ended, for I am the shadow of justice that will strike terror into the very hearts and souls of those that would do you harm.. I am vengence.. I am the night.. I am.. The Batwoman!" She proclaimed proudly, fists firmly planted on her hips, chest boldly thrust out. Then, taking a great running stride to her open window, The newly forged Batwoman lept out to the branch of the tree that had once been the source of one of her childhood terrors, executed a textbook acrobatic spin on the limb, and sailed across the night sky to the limb of the very next tree on the spacious Wayne property..


The, young, attractive blonde woman gave nervous, backward glances to the stocky, unpleasant looking man in tattered clothes with beard growth following at a slightly uncomfortably close distance in the seedy part of downtown Gotham. As the girl passed a dark alleyway, she heard the footsteps suddenly accelerate. As she began to spin around in surprise, the unpleasent man threw his arm around her neck. As She tried to scream and resist felt something hard and cold poke her in the back!

"In the alley, now, or you die!" The man ordered with an unpleasant grunt. The young victim could smell the liquor on his breath.

The young woman was forced to comply. As they entered the terrible black chasm, the thug ripped the woman's designer purse from her shoulder and threw her down on a pile of stinking garbage. "I'll be takin' 'dis!" He announced as he pocketed her wallet and other assorted valuables. To the woman's horror, he then got down on his knees in front of her, saying with a sinister grin "But 'dat's not all I want.." As he began slowly unbuttoning her blouse!

"HEEEEELLLLLL..MMRPH!!" The woman began to shriek at the top her her lungs, before the man slapped his pudgy hand across her mouth.

"You scream, you die!" The thug coldly threatened, pointing a snub-nosed revolver at her throat.

[CLAAANNNNGGGG!] Went the fire escape behind them!

"What the Hell?!" The crook exclaimed, turning around in a shock as a caped, masked figure in a dark costume hopped down, landing on the toe of her right boot. "What's 'dis? Halluhween?!" The crook asked, confused.

"Drop the gun and beat it!" Batwoman ordered in a dark, angry voice.

The man's face contorted in a snarl as he raised his pistol, " Go to Hell, Dame!"

For a moment, Batwoman's pulse raced, the cold breath of Death blew on her neck. Then, she remembered the words of her Father..[You must be brave, Lucy..You must be brave..] And her pulse and breathing returned to normal

Then, without warning, the man fired!

Batwoman expertly dodged to the right, the bullet poking a small hole in her cape!

The thug froze for a second, before raising his gun again. However, quick as a flash, Batwoman retrieved a shuriken from her utility belt and, recalling her ninja training, focused on the gun, and tossed it expertly. With a clang, the gun was snapped out of the man's hand! The man cursed in surprise, before bending down to pick it up. But then, Batwoman was upon him, sprinting over, she landed a massive uppercut to his jaw, knocking his head back! She then kneed him as hard as she could in his groin before executing a textbook high kick to the man's Adam's Apple, causing blood to spill from his mouth, before his massive body slumped to the concrete ground with a thud!

The woman lept from the trash pile, with a joyful smile, tears in her eyes, her arms outstretched to embrace her rescuer. "OH, THANK YOU! THANK YOU SO MUCH!" She exclaimed happily.

However, Batwoman extended her palm which blocked the woman at arm's length. The young lady looked confused at the costumed damsel.

"This is your only warning. Don't walk these streets at night again! I may not be here next time!" Batwoman reprimanded, before leaping to the bottom rung of the fire escape and ascended it with the speed and grace of a feline!

"WAIT!" The young woman called out, but it was too late, the heroine had fled.


Batwoman, exhausted, her breath coming in short pants, jumped to the tree branch close to her bedroom window, struggling for a foothold. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Batwoman mentally counseled herself [Come on, Lucy, just one more big jump..One more..]. She crouched, then lept to the window, her fingers just hooking onto the ledge! The fear of plummeting to the ground below kept her resolve up, as Batwoman hoisted herself into her room, dropping onto her plush pink carpeting, puffing.

It was while she lay on the floor, that she smiled, thinking [Well, at least I know I can do this.. Gotta work some more exercises into my routine, though.. Gotta be more fit..] After gaining a significant amount of her breath back, Lucy rose, whipped her mask off, staggered over to her bed and collapsed onto it, falling asleep almost instantly.


The next morning was a bright, sunny, warm day which betrayed nothing of Lucy's previous nocturnal activity. The young heiress rose from her troubled, nightmare filled slumber, stripped of her costume, being extra careful to hide it under a pile of clothes in her bottom drawer, dropped to the floor and did 50 pushups, performed 40 situps and rose again to do 50 jumping jacks. She then dressed in her robe, and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Lucy told Phillipe, her personal chef, to fix plain toast and a large glass of orange juice. She said she wasn't feeling very hungry.

"Of course, of course, Madmoiselle." He said with a grin, as Lucy walked into the dining room.

Alfred, a cold, hard glare on his face, was waiting for her beside the large oak dining table. Lucy was surprised, She had never seen him this angry before!

"I'm going to keep my voice down, Miss Lucy, because I don't want anyone to hear about this." Alfred said in a deep, authoritive tone.

Lucy braced herself.

"This morning, I opened up the Gazette, and read an interesting story about a young woman being rescued from an armed mugger by a mysterious costumed figure." He began. "I thought nothing of it at the time, but when I ventured to your room to wake you, I found you sprawled out on your bed, dressed in an unusual outfit.. It didn't exactly take Sherlock Holmes to put two and two together. It was quite clear that you had been out on that same dangerous escapade."

Lucy remained silent, having adopted a hardened expression of her own.

"I'm sure you know, Miss Lucy, that in your Father's will, he said that should anything happen to your Mother and he, that I was to become responsible for you and care for you.." Alfred said, tears beginning to well up in his eyes, despite still retaining his angry look. "And if he found out that you had been in an altercation with an armed suspect and had been SHOT AT.." He said, temporarily raising his voice, before closing his eyes and composing himself "He would've had my head on a silver charger.. Now I am putting my foot down, Miss Lucy. You are not to have any more of these deadly night time excursions." He concluded.

Lucy raised one eye brow on her indignant face, before saying "Alfred, you just don't understand.. I'm not doing this for some deranged case of self-gratification, I'm doing this to bring the rampant crime of this city in check!"

"That's the job of the police!" Alfred declared.

"The police are bought and paid for by the mob! The good officers, if there are any left, need a helping hand, Alfred! They need to be shown that they're not alone! That there are people willing to help them!" Lucy countered.

"It's too dangerous! You don't have the skill, the experience!" Alfred said angrily, pointing at Lucy.

"Oh, my year of various training periods beg to differ! I'm a grown woman, now! I'm an adult, and you can't tell me what to do! I AM going to make Gotham a better place! Whether you like it or not, so try to stop me!" Lucy growled, before waltzing to the kitchen door and saying sweetly "Phillipe, could you have the serving tray brought upstairs? I shall have breakfast in my room."

"Oui, Oui! At once, Miss Lucy!" The chef called back.

"Merci!" Lucy responded, before storming past her dumbfounded butler, and heading upstairs.


That night, the Gotham docks had their usual unpleasant ambience, a misty fog was pouring in from the ocean, a ship's horn blared off in the distance, the stench of dead fish was prevelant. Then, along the entrance, a small army of thugs began marching toward the shipping section in a tight line formation. They were armed with guns of every kind, along with baseball bats and burning torches. Their stone cold mugs were some of the ugliest faces you'd never want to run into in a dark alleyway.

A small assembly of police guarding the area, armed with Tommy guns noticed this, and moved carefully foreward. The senior of the men, a slightly greying Sargeant named Greene, held up his palm and ordered "Halt! Stop where you are!"

The men did not obey, they continued advancing. As they began passing a number of large shipping boxes, one of them tossed their torch onto the crates, igniting a blaze!

"Stop! Stop right this instant!" Sargeant Greene harshly ordered, rasing his weapon.

"Sorry, Coppers!" One of the thick chinned goons retorted. "Da Dock owners didn't pay da union workers on time. Consider 'dis a warnin'! 'Dis goes on.. More moichendise goes up in smoke!"

Greene proceeded to fire one brisk round up in the air, before levelling his gun back down at the men. "I'm serious, men! DON'T MAKE ME USE THIS!!" Only to feel cold steel against his neck..

Greene turned his head around to see both of his partners with sinister grins on their faces, one of them pointing his machine gun at the base of Greene's neck! "Sorry, Sargeant.. That won't be happening tonight.." He said in an ice cold voice.

*BANG*


Lucy Wayne had just finished wrapping her mouth around a somwhat overspiced forkful of Steak Tartare at the enormous dining room dining room table at which she sat alone, when just then, the radio in the adjourning room ceased it's pleasant music selection, replacing it with a rapidly speaking announcer. "We interrupt this music selection with an important news flash! Reports have come in of an apparent crime related fire at the Gotham docks! Police and Firefighters are already en route.."

"..And I bet the cunning Batwoman can beat them both there.." Lucy said to herself with a proud smirk, rising from the table and heading up the stairs to her room.


After stripping and donning her costume, Batwoman made her way to the window.. where she promptly found that it had been locked. "Silly Alfred.. You can't keep this woman from her job.." The heroine muttered to herself. She considered picking the lock, but then had another idea. Taking her evening dress along with her in a box to use as her alibi, stealthily, Batwoman snuck back down the stairs, and past the dining room where Alfred was clearing her place at the table. She eased her way to the entrance to the garage and quietly made her way inside.

The garage's interior was almost as big as a normal house, with dozens of cars that Lucy and her parents had purchased.

[Now let's see, what vehicle will get me there quickly..] Batwoman thought, as she scanned the area. Her eyes were drawn to the slick, dark red Roadster. It was relatively new and was certainly very fast.

"Bingo!" Batwoman quietly exclaimed. She went to a secret drawer in the wall where the keys were kept, selected the Roadster's, and rushed over to the garage door, lifting it open quietly as she could. Batwoman then dove inside the car, tossing the box in the passanger seat and, unable to keep quiet any longer, turned the engine over, and with a loud roar, gunned the engine and peeled out into the night, her black cape fluttering in the wind!

Alfred, hearing the noise, ran out to the garage to see the door wide open, and a set of tire tracks where the roadster had been. "Miss Lucy.." He grumbled, placing his face in the palm of his hand.


Batwoman blazed across the highway, cutting off cars without a care. With her pedal to the floor, she was thankful that her mansion was relatively close to the docks. There were many horns blaring and angry shouts as the Dark Damsel's roadster sped to it's destination.


Batwoman arrived at the docks well ahead of the Police and FD. The glow of the fire and arid smoke were there to greet her. She stopped the car with a screech, and lept out, taking the keys with her. Cautiously, the young vigilante crept behind a set of boxes that hadn't yet been ignited, to see two guards actually assisting the thugs in setting more equipment ablaze with their torches! Another guard's body lay somewhere near them, a pool of blood next to his head. [So..These crooked guards are in on it too, eh?] Batwoman thought angrily to herself.

Just then, her boot accidentally slipped and kicked a beer bottle aside! As the bottle rattled, Batwoman gritted her teeth and halted it with her foot.

But, it was far too late.. The men all turned their heads in a start and pointed their guns.

"Horace, ol' buddy, go see what that was.." One of the officers ordered a rather stout thug.

[You must be brave.. You must be brave..] Batwoman heard her father echo repeatedly in her thoughts as she tried her best not to breathe, her eyes wide, her heart thudding quickly and mechanically..

Horace obeyed, muttering under his breath "Pro'lly just a rat or sumthin'.." As he approached Batwoman's hiding place, his pistol held loosely in his hands as if it were a bunch of grapes.

As the goon's footsteps got closer and closer, Batwoman made her decision. [Here we go..] She thought with a spark of anticipation zapping up her spinal nerves.

Right at the moment Horace reached behind the boxes, he found Batwoman in a crouched position. He began to raise his gun and exclaimed "What Th'..!" Before the Dark Damsel lept up and brought her knee straight into the mobster's face, K.O.ing him instantly!

The team of goons then sprang into action, one of the crooked cops shouted "Ice 'im!" Before the men raised their weapons and opened fire! The boxes were blasted completely apart by the heavy duty fire arms.

"Boys, some of you go look at the corpse, the rest of you help me finish up here." One of the mob guards ordered, half began walking with him, the others began advancing at a moderate pace towards the smoking, bullet-riddled remains of the crates.

But as the men walked behind them, a seductive female voice saying "Peek-a-boo!" from the backs of the next load of crates caught their attention!

The men looked up too late to see Batwoman as she gave an effective roundhouse kick to one man's face, knocking two of his back teeth out and sending him sprawling to the ground, before the men could even react, Batwoman, moving as fast as a bolt of lightning, pulled the next man towards her, and landed a karate chop to a pressure point on the back of his, neck, then dumping him, she moved to the next man and landed an uppercut under his jaw! She moved to yet another just as his pal was aiming his pistol. Getting behind the man, ignoring his foul body odor, and holding him by the back of his greasy hair, she tensed herself as the other goon had already began firing his weapon, inadvertantly filling his buddy with lead! Fortunately for Batwoman, the man was overweight and there were no exit wounds. Grabbing hold of the dying man's gun before he could drop it, Batwoman proceded to return the favor to the other thug, putting several bullets into his body, and finishing the last one off straight into his forehead in a quick shower of blood!

She dropped her human shield as both men began their respective death rattles, saying to herself "Now for the rest!"

"Whassat?! Shootin'?!" A bony thug with rather pronounced ears asked in fright, the rest of the gang turning around with him.

Suddenly, from out of the darkeness, a shuriken flew straight into the creep's neck with a spray of blood! With a gurgle, he dropped to the floor.

Then, taking a stride from the Boxes, Batwoman lept into sight, rushing towards the four remaining men!

"What th' Hell?!" One of the mob cops exclaimed.

As the men tried to aim at her, the Dark Damsel took a high leap into the air, and as she descended in what seemed like slow motion, she brought her fists down hard into both of the crooked guards' faces, dislocating the jaw of one of them. One goon aimed and fired, but his gun jammed with a click! With a quick smirk, Batwoman swiftly nailed him with her elbow between his eyes.

Just then, there was a gunshot, and Batwoman felt a sting across her side! [Damn! I've been shot!] She thought tensely.

As the nervous looking hood with greased back hair got ready for another shot, Batwoman forcefully inserted her boot into his mouth.

With the thugs thoroughly dispatched, Batwoman located a thick hoisting rope lying around, and proceded to tie up the goons that were still alive all in one big bundle. She then retrieved a paper and pen from her glove compartment, and jotted a quick note down, which she stuffed in the collar of one of the crooked cops' shirt. She tried to analyze the wound she had sustained in the glow of the burning crates. [Hmm, looks like it was just a graze. Stings pretty good, though.]. Her thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of police and fire engine sirens growing closer. [Better Split!] She thought briskly, highttailing it back to the roadster, and speeding away, where she retreated to a wooded area, changed into her evening dress in a hurry, then headed back to the mansion.


Alfred and some of the other servants were waiting outside for Lucy when she pulled up. Concerned looks, all.

"What seems to be the problem, everyone? The living room catch fire? Someone die?" Lucy asked with a mild chuckle.

"Miss Lucy... We've been waiting half an hour for you! When we heard your car drive out of the garage, we wondered what you were up to.." Alfred said grimly.

[Lying fool, you knew..] Lucy thought to herself with a smirk, before saying innocently "I just felt like going for an evening drive. Feel the wind in my hair, that sort of thing."

Then, Harriet, a hefty, middle aged maid with a sweet face and a constant twinkle in her eyes was just as distressed. "Heavens, Miss Lucy, there was a riot down at the docks near here! You're lucky you weren't hurt!"

"Relax, Harriet dear, I wasn't anywhere near the docks." Lucy lied with a cool demeanor.

"Well, anyway, it's high time you were in bed, Miss Lucy. You DO have to present yourself at the board meeting tomorrow." Alfred said authoritively.

"Right. I'll park the car." Lucy replied.

As Lucy drove back into the garage, the servants made their way back into the mansion.

Upon exiting the car, taking the box that contained her costume, Lucy was startled by Alfred suddenly appearing in front of her.

"You did it again, didn't you?" He asked with a hard expression.

"Yes, what about it?" Lucy answered confrontationally, crossing her arms.

Alfred just sighed deeply, the anger melting from his face. "Were there any injuries?" He asked weakly.

"There's a graze mark on my side." Lucy said, pointing to the area. "You have anything for it? And I don't want another argument!" She continued firmly.

"I'll go and get some alcohol and ACE bandages." Alfred said resignedly.

"Thanks, Alfred." Lucy said with a smile, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, leaving a slight lipstick mark behind.

Without acknowledging this, The aging butler made his way through the door that led inside the living quaters.


Lietenant Gordon walked with a regretful face into Commissioner Loeb's plush, red velvet covered office. "Yes, Sir? You called for me?" He asked sullenly.

Loeb, a modestly overweight, unpleasant looking man with receding red curly hair atop a balding scalp, who sat at a small oak desk that he dwarfed with his girth, looked up with his hard emerald eyes with x-ray properties below a pair of sharpened red eyebrows, and a pair of full, almost feminine lips against a sunken chin covered with beard stubble. Regardless of which side of the law you were on, you would fear him for certain.

"Why, yes, Jim. I did.." Loeb said with a voice that could chill a frying egg in an instant.

[First name.. Uh-oh..] Gordon thought with a clear sense of dread, before asking. "A-And what would you like, Sir?"

"I want you to tell me.." Loeb began calmly, before rasing his voice to a shout "..Why in the HELL IS THAT BATWOMAN CHARACTER STILL OUT ON THE STREETS?!!" Concluding with a series of hacking coughs. He pulled open one of his desk drawers and fumbled around before picking out a tin box of cherry flavored lozenges. He shook one into his hand and popped it into his unpleasant maw, and began sucking on it.

"Well, Sir, we're trying to pool our resources as best we can, but.. Well, Sir, we can't exactly predict the next crime in this City and which one the Batwoman will respond to.." Gordon explained, knowing full well that he was wating his breath.

"I don't want excuses, Gordon! I want results! No one does the job of the Police EXCEPT the police!" Loeb shouted, bringing his fist down hard on the desktop, shaking it's contents. "I want a Batwoman task force formed! Arm 'em with Tommy Guns and have 'em respond to every call that reports the Batwoman showing up!" He said, spitting out his cough drop upon his desk, before cramming it back into his mouth. "And as for those enforces Batwoman brutalized a the docks.. They walk!"

"But, Sir! You can't.." Gordon began to protest.

"I said they walk, Gordon! They were falsely apprehended by A VIGILANTE! Or would you like to go back to being a paper pusher?!" Loeb threatened, the lozenge still dancing on his tongue.

Gordon just sighed deeply, hanging his head. "No, sir.."

"Good.. Dismissed.." Loeb growled with a cool glare.

Gordon silently turned, opened the door and walked out of the office. Remembering to show his displeasure by slamming the door ever so slightly.

Just then, Loeb's phone jangled with a ring. Loeb picked it up without hesitation. "Commissioner Loeb.." He answered briskly. His sour demeanor sweetened with a sinister smile after hearing a familiar voice he had been longing to hear. "Why, hello, Carmine!.. Yes, Yes, I believe we shall have the Batwoman problem wrapped up shortly..." He remarked cheerfully. "Yes, I've just asked for the men to be excused.. Why, yes! Golf sounds good! I'm available this weekend! Your handicap still six?"


Elias Swinton, his bony, haggard face showing the ravages of his alcoholism, made a broad motion with his slightly shuddering hand towards Lucy, who was dressed for business in a black suit jacket with white trim on the collar, over a white blouse and black necktie, with a matching black skirt, dark pantyhose and back high heeled shoes, standing next to him in front of the boardroom's long conference table.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Wayne Enterprises, the Prodigal daughter is home at last! Miss Lucy Wayne has returned from travelling around the world and is ready to sink her teeth into the family business as Chief Executive Officer!" He proudly (With just a hint of feigned joy?) declared as loudly as his blackened lungs would permit him.

"Thank you, thank you, everyone. I truly feel that together.." Lucy began. What proceeded to stream from her mouth was so much BSing that she believed she tuned herself out before her audience did.


Her first day at the office done, Lucy walked out of the building's revolving door to meet the short limousine outside.

Walter, the bright faced chauffeur, opened her door for her. "Afternoon, Miss Lucy!" He cheerfully said with an affable smile.

"That's alright, Walter, just get in the car. I'll let myself in!" Lucy called out to him.

"Hey, Lucy! We still on for dinner?" One of Lucy's co-workers yelled.

However, as Lucy turned to answer, a sharp crack filled the air. People around screamed and dove for cover! It was the unmistakeable sound of gunfire. Lucy dropped to the floor, covering her head, only to see Walter, a large bleeding wound on his neck, sinking to the ground, his eyes glazing over. Lucy's face froze with fright, only to be interrupted by several holes being shot into the car!

[A sniper!] Lucy thought with fright. She then crawled slowly, combat style over to her fallen driver. "Walter! Walter!" She shouted. No answer. She cautiously reached up and tried his pulse.. Nothing. He was dead...

"HELP! SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!!" A woman shrieked at the top of her lungs.

Lucy was certain that the gunman had already fled, but decided to stay down just on the safe side. Whatever she had done, she knew she had been the target of the attempted assassination. She didn't know why, but she intended to get some answers..


Elias was slumped over his desk late at night. One of the only workers still in the building. He was going over some reports, when he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck. "What the.." He said with a start, and turned around.. Only to see the sinister masked face of Batwoman standing in front of the open window! "HEL..MPPPHH!" Was all the elderly executive had time to scream, before the Dark Damsel slapped her gloved hand across his mouth.

With a snarl on her lips, Batwoman thrust Swinton's body to the floor, so that his upper torso was suspended outside the large window! "WHY DID YOU TRY TO HAVE MISS WAYNE KILLED?! TELL ME!!" She shouted.

"I didn't! I swear!" Swinton squealed in terror.

"LIAR!" Batwoman spat.

"Honest to God! I didn't have anything to do with it!" Elias screamed.

"HOW'D YOU LIKE TO MEET GOD A LITTLE EARLY?!" Batwoman threatened, before pushing Swinton out the window! Swinton shrieked bloody murder as he began to plummet, only to have Batwoman catch him by the ankle!

"OKAY! OKAY! TWO GUYS ASKED TO BE ABLE TO SNIPE HER FROM THE WINDOW! THAT'S ALL!"

"TELL ME WHO SENT THEM!!" Batwoman demanded.

"I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T!" Swinton yelled back.

"Heh! Funny! I think I feel my fingers slipping!" Batwoman said with a psychotic giggle, beginning to loosen her grip.

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! IT WAS FALCONE! FALCONE!!" Swinton confessed. I DIDN'T MEAN TO GET TIED UP WITH THE MOB, BUT MY DAUGHTER WAS SICK AND.." He began to explain, before Batwoman uncerimoniously yanked him back by his leg, and applied pressure to the back of his neck, knocking him out cold! She then went back to the window, where the long rope she had planted was hanging, and began her long descent.


Richie and Sam, two of Carmine Falcone's bodyguards, stood at the foot of the long lavish staircase that led to their boss' bedroom.

"You think that Batwoman dame'll get hold of Elias and make 'im sing?" Richie, a muscular gentleman with well groomed dusty brown hair asked Carl.

Carl, the overweight hood with the boil on his cheek said dismissively "Nah, she may be a tough chick, but she ain't that daring!"

"Wanna bet?!" A sinister voice said from the shadows! Before The men could even react, Batwoman lept out from the darkened hallway and karate chopped Sam's throat, sending him to the ground coughing and sputtering. Richie started to go for his gun, but the Dark Damsel grabbed him by the back of his head and kneed him in the face repeatedly at a rapid pace, sending him off to dreamland. The goons dispatched, Batwoman then quietly ascended the stairs.

Carmine was lying in bed in his bathrobe, puffing on a Lucky Strike while listening to an instrumental piece on the radio turned up considerably loud, drowning out the sounds of the struggle below. Suddenly, the door flew open and there stood Batwoman in the doorway with an intimidating glare!

Instinctively, Carmine pulled out the .45 he kept under his pillow, but Batwoman was already on him, grabbing his wrist before he could even aim. As the two struggled with the weapon, a round went off into the ceiling and a small amount of plaster dust rained down on top of them. Batwoman's strength and drive proved superior. She wrenched the gun from the mobster's fingers.

"WHY DID YOU TRY TO HAVE LUCY WAYNE KILLED?! TELL ME!!" Batwoman demanded.

"I DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU NOTHIN', DAME!" Falcone shot back.

Batwoman then wrapped the pistol's butt across the gangster's forehead, drawing blood. "TELL ME!!"

"RICHIE! SAM!!" Falcone shrieked.

"Your little worms are taking a nap right now." Batwoman said coldly, tossing the gun to the other side of the room. "That gives us plenty of time to chat!"

"You're dealing with a professional, Honey! You couldn't make me squeal for all the gold in Fort Knox!" Carmine taunted cockily.

"Well then.." Batwoman said, raising her fist "Let's start the bidding at one hundred thousand dollars!" Before pounding Falcone's face with the intensity of a heavyweight boxer! In a matter of moments, the crime boss' face was a bloody mess "Let's start for a million!" Batwoman announced, raising her fist again.

"OKAY! OKAY!! STOP! JUST STOP ALREADY!" Falcone screamed in misery. "I figured that Wayne wouldn't play ball with us the way Swinton did! So I had to try to rub her out! I'm sorry, all right?!" He explained.

"Good. Thank you for cooperating.." Batwoman said emotionlessly, before grabbing the mobster by his shoulders and looking into his eyes, growling "Now, we're going to take a little trip.."


The officers on duty inside the Gotham Police Station were suddenly alerted by suspicious sounds outside. With their hands on their pistols, they bolted out the door, only to be shocked by the sigh of the figure of a man in a bathrobe tied with ropes to the Department's Glowing sign, His face was obscured by a pillowcase that had been thrown over his head. Attached to the front of his robe was a note with read in bold print "I tried to have an innocent woman killed. Lock me up and throw away the key!"

One of the officers reached up and yanked off the pillowcase, revealing Carmine's bloody battered face. "Falcone!" He exclaimed.

"Don't just stand there, you idiots! CUT ME DOWN!" The gangster ordered.


Falcone made bail almost instantly, with the help of his slovenly son, Anthony.

As he was being driven home in his black limousine, Anthony turned to his father and asked "Who did it, Pops? Who gave you the works?"

Carmine, his bandaged face already beginning to swell, explained with as much of an aggresive tone as he could muster "The Batwoman... SHE DIES!!"


TO BE CONTINUED...