Here it is, at long last! The conclusion to Crossed Paths! **** The DCFutures FanFiction Group recognizes that Batman and all related characters are property of DC Comics. These stories are written for no profit, but rather a strong desire to peer into the future of the DCU. The stories and concepts presented herein, however, are property of the author. So there. **** BATMAN: DCF #21 **** Written and Directed by Erik Burnham darvey@rocketmail.com **** BATMAN created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger BATMAN: DCF created by Erik Burnham THIS ISSUE IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO ROB'T KANE - WHO LEFT ME A LEGACY TO PLAY WITH, WHETHER HE KNEW IT OR NOT. THANKS FOR THE TOYS, BOB. I PROMISE NOT TO BREAK THEM. **** "Crossed Paths, part 2 (of 2)" **** "Something about it doesn't smell right, Bradley." The Penguin closed his eyes in contemplation. "I understand your apprehension, Maria. But this is an enormous opportunity for us. We must seize it." "Would Tuesday be this dumb?" "Maria, this is the height of cleverness," the Penguin said, his voice raising above it's usual tone. "His first drop is a strike, the second goes undetected in the ensuing confusion." "I think you're losing it. You're obsessed." The Penguin's eyes shot open. "My family was destroyed by this man, my dear. I don't feel obsession is out of line." "That's not what bugs me, Bradley. I mean, why do you care if Tuesday blows up a bunch of cops? Why didn't you just ace his lieutenant and let the cops be fodder? Why bother?" "I once took a vow to protect innocents, Maria. It didn't work out quite the way I hoped... but I try to keep it when I can. And if that doesn't satisfy you, then think of it this way: the enemy of my enemy is my friend." Bradley Carrington was silent for the next hour, lapsing into meditation to prepare for the battle ahead. **** "Mr. Tuscotti?" Staci Miller knocked gently on the door as she entered. "You wanted to see me?" A rasping cough was Staci's only reply. It sounded wet and thick, as though Angel Tuscotti was relieving himself of his internal organs. "Yeah, *cough* I did." Angel finally managed. "Have a seat." "Thank you, sir." "Batman." Angel began. "What do you think?" "He's all over the news, sir. Loves the spotlight." "And?" "And what?" "Doesn't that *cough* doesn't that seem a little odd to you? For a vigilante that trades on fear?" "He's probably just someone trading in on a famous name for a little fame and fortune. Is this what you needed to speak to me about, sir?" Angel Tuscotti's blue eyes glazed over with an anger that soon spilled over into the room, filling it. "I want him dead. I want his memory gone from my city. I want it done now." "But why, sir? He..." "He is interfering with *cough* with too many of my plans! Now you kill him before he becomes an even bigger problem, or I *cough*..." Angel turned, allowing a thick glob of phlegm to escape his lips and sully the priceless marble on the floor behind him. "Or, I kill you and get someone else to solve this problem." "Consider it done, sir." Staci hurried out of the room. Tuscotti had changed in recent weeks. He had become more driven than ever before; exploring new ventures, raising profits, and scaring the hell out of the people he had once trusted. And then there was this obsession with the Batman. Where it had come from was anyone's guess... but it was a deep hatred. It was almost enough to make one wonder... **** "Have I told you how much I appreciate this?" "Only once or twice in the last ten minutes." Kylie Roarke breathed to the man next to her. And what a man he was... The Batman. He was dressed completely in black, a long flowing cape mingling with the shadows as though they were one, a large red bat spreading across his chest, meeting his cowl like the kiss of dawn... And even though his face was masked, Kylie could see the hint of a wide smile that she found strangely attractive. "It's not polite to stare, Bimblykix." The Batman said, without turning. Kylie felt herself turn red. "Mike is the only one I ever let call me that." "Look at the costume I'm wearing, detective. I do things I shouldn't all the time. Within reason, of course." Again with that hint of smile. He was rather conceited, wasn't he? And he could afford to be. What presence. What a body. What... am I doing thinking like a schoolgirl? Shame on you, Kylie! Concentrate on the situation at hand. The Batman showed up at your apartment a few days ago with a theory as to the killer of Tuesday's man, and a plan to bait him out. A group of cops would perform an elaborate sting operation, setting up a faux Tuesday drop. They'd put the word on the street and hope that the mystery villain was still in town, and either stupid - or obsessed - enough to take the bait. There was, needless to say, a lot riding on this little gambit - and the Batman didn't really have anything to lose. But how did he convince her to go along with it again? **** "I still don't like this, Bradley. I'm getting bad vibes." "You're always nervous, Maria. Have you ever noticed that?" "Yeah. But this time it's different. It's... weird. Almost like a little voice screaming at us not to go in there." "In point of fact, we're not going in there." "Well that makes things a lot..." "I am." "What?!?" "You are to remain hidden in case I should need you." "No." "Don't question me, Maria, please. The longer our war is waged, the more clever the enemy gets. We need to diversify our tactics. I shall enter first, and should I need your assistance, I will summon you post-haste." The Penguin, Bradley Carrington, then placed his hand on the shoulder of his friend, his only ally in this impossible task he had undertaken. He could see her mask dampen around the eyes, despite her attempts to withhold her tears of frustration, worry, and love. "Maria. Everything will be fine." On that note, the Penguin unsheathed his sword and strode purposefully towards the warehouse that promised him his next battle. **** The Batcave was eerily still as Clark approached the main computer to call up his journal log. He had, as per usual, requested privacy from Alfred during his daily collection of thoughts; but the hole left by the droid's absence never ceased to surprise him. Alfred truly brought a sense of home-like warmth hitherto unseen in this subterranean monument to obsession. "Computer access Journal program Clark-A, 1-3-5-5-1. Password: Martha." "Access granted," the Computer replied, it's voice seeming all the more cold in comparison to Alfred. "Begin recording on my mark... Mark. I once read that, during depression, the body sometimes shuts down to deal with the severity of its emotions. I don't know if that's true, but in the past few weeks, I've slept more than enough to sate an average man... and I never have been exactly 'average.' "But could I be depressed? After all I've been through, have I finally reached my breaking point? "Everything I can remember has been taken from me; and why I don't know. There's a large chunk of my past missing, with no clues pointing as to why. There's a Superman in Metropolis doing all the things I used to, and then there's the Eradicator..." Clark paused and cleared his throat, looking around at the time worn trophies of another kind of man. "The Eradicator, who showed up here, in the Batcave. [**See THE ERADICATOR: DCF #1-2 By Jason Smith!**] What is wrong with this world? "I used to know exactly where I stood in life; such is no longer the case. I find myself, my ideals... changing. I still want to help, but I don't where to start... everything is so completely mucked up I couldn't say where to begin. "Maybe with Justice? Maybe with the League, the mockery it's become. Or maybe... maybe I should try something simpler. Maybe I should start closer to home, so to speak. "Maybe I should meet this Superman." "Close Journal program Clark-A." **** It was just as when he left it, all those years ago, when he crumbled to the call of Justice and gave up his former life. Gotham City. It smelled the same, it looked the same, hell -- it even tasted the same. Like home. Alucard Holmes smiled for the first time in months, staring at the city spread out below him as the transparent elevation unit brought him to the penthouse suite of the Gotham Mermacia. The feeling of homecoming spread over him like a warm blanket; filling him with a sense of completion he'd not felt since he had adopted Justice's vision as his own. It was... nice. Alucard glanced up at the full moon and relived past joys; the ancient feel of the nighttime breeze hitting him full in the face as he raced through the winding canyons of the city on his special edition hovercycle... The foods prepared for him at his favorite restaurants, the neverending challenges the city provided for him. It was good to be home. ...If only it weren't a business trip. Justice demanded a detailed first-hand account of the progress of the Batman, the most successful construct yet... but Justice could not show up in Gotham City; so it fell to Alucard. It always fell to Alucard. But one must never look a gift horse in the mouth. Alucard could remember his father using that phrase once, many years ago, on the eve of his death in fact. If a return home meant he must come face to face with this thing he had helped to create, so be it. It could always be worse. Always. The elevation unit stopped at the penthouse level, but Alucard did not exit, choosing instead to remain a few minutes more, enthralled by the beauty of the night sky. **** He walked right in, like he owned the place. Tim was surprised - not because, in point of fact, HE owned the place - but rather, he had been right. He'd put the pieces together in the correct order. Bradley Carrington was the man responsible for the death of Bruce Miers. Did that make him wrong? Miers was the scum of the earth; he'd peddle anything to anyone - and his product du'jour happened to be insanely powerful narcotics. Tim hated drugs. Why was unclear. They just burned a hole in his conscience... and that made it tough. Tim watched Carrington go after the undercover officers. They made no moves to attack, as per instruction - good boys - and we rewarded with unconsciousness. It is so beautiful when a plan comes together. Uh-oh. Spoke too soon. Looks like ol' Brad has decided to make an example out of the 'leader' of the group. Not good. Time to get my go on, Tim mused, melting into the shadows that surrounded him. **** "I want you to know," The Penguin started out, "That I have spared your men. I have no interest in killing grunts. You sir, however, appear to have the intelligence worth removing from Tuesday's list of assets. I truly wish it could be different." Bradley Carrington raised his sword for the killing strike. "Who says it can't be?" The voice numbed Bradley Carrington, as it had so many before him. Lesser men had lost more then their resolve when faced with the gritty tones of the Batman... ...But Carrington was not a lesser man. Nor was he acquainted with the latest incarnation of the Dark Knight. But he was a curious man, and his prey was going nowhere, transfixed as he was by the presence of the Bat. "Experience," Carrington replied at last, lowering his sword to waist-level. "And I find that experience is rarely in err." "Is that so." "Indeed." The Penguin looked Tim over with a careful eye. "Have we met, sir? You seem remarkably familiar." "It's the ears. Everybody's got 'em nowadays; they even outsell that mouse's in Florida." "Is that so." The Penguin smiled. "Indeed," Tim replied, tone-for-tone, completing the turntable scene. "I can't let you kill that man." "My dear sir, if you fancy yourself a protector of the innocent, please listen closely. I have no intention of allowing innocents to suffer. Therefore, there must be sacrifices made; a cleansing, as it were. This one is a prime example... his actions assist in the poisoning of our youth. He must die so that others might live! I appeal to your sense of..." "I'm sorry, I saw that movie already," Tim said in a dark voice, crouching ever so slightly and drawing a dart-like apparatus from his belt. "I'm not going to let you kill that man. He's innocent. Maybe you'd believe me if I told you he's a cop. Three kids, a wife, and a cat. Never done anything worse than takin' a couple puffs of the ol' wacky tobbaccy back in junior high." "I don't." "I've got no reason to lie." "Nor do you have cause to be veracious." "Whatever that means. Prepare to be taken down." "Ah, the optimism of youth!" The Penguin smiled. His sword began to glow. Tim knew what was coming... he had seen it so many years before, but he knew. A Teke bolt so precise, Tim'd have to be nuts to think he could dodge it! Insane! Loopy! Braindead! "Score!" Tim cried as the bolt eked by him, searing the air with an electric hum. "You... I... How?" The Penguin started, staring down at the dart sticking forth from his jacket; a dart that had short-circuited his abilities enough to give Tim a chance. "Me... You... No one's got a clue." "Maria?" The Penguin whispered into his lapel as he collapsed near the wall. "I need you, m'dear..." "Maria? Who's whoooooooof!" Stupid, stupid, stupid. No one said the Penguin was stupid. Carrington used to lecture League-Schoolers on battle tactics back in the day. Figures he'd have an ace in the hole. Meta from the feel of it, Tim thought. Glancing blow nearly knocked me through time, like back to the ninth grade when I asked Nina Rollins out. Much pain. Apparently, 'Maria' also dropped a good, old fashioned blacklight bomb while she was at it. Okay, no problem; wait for the lenses in the trusty Bat-Mask to adjust and... WHAT?!? **** "Can I help you?" The voice on the other end of the line was pleasant, Staci thought. Almost sexy. But hardened. Chilling in a way that few things are anymore. Back to business, in and out, stay alive. "Batman." "What about him?" "I represent a party that would like him removed from Gotham City." Staci could have sworn she heard a chuckle before the icy-yet-pleasant voice replied. "Yours isn't the first request I've had in the matter." "It's... not?" "Why should I negate the Batman?" "We'd be paying you..." "You can pay anyone. I prefer a reason. I have a conscience to uphold." "We'll double any price you quote." "My conscience has just granted me an extension. I will look into the matter. Services will be rendered upon completion of research if, and only if, I find something rotten in Denmark. Otherwise..." "Otherwise?" "...You'll wish you'd never contacted me." The line went dead and Staci suddenly felt small... as though she had just lost a bet with the devil and he was coming to collect. **** Tim couldn't believe what his optical enhancements were feeding him... but the black light bomb - obviously crude - was already fading into the light and confirming that... ...Someone had stolen his gig. A full facemask concealed her identity well enough. Better than well enough. Her cocoa-toned skin was bare from neck to shoulders, where a large yellow bat intermingled with ebon fibro-armor. Her gabardine attached to her wrists and met at her back... simply and efficiently; they also doubled as airfoils. Tim noted the design wasn't one of his. Big deal, the general motif was. "Sweetheart, the skintight look is most definitely your kind of thing, but uh... that ensemble has imposter written all over it. That is so last season, girlfriend, you know what I'm sayin'?" "Shut up." "Ooh. Feisty." Maria - affectionately known to some bountyhunters as Batgirl - didn't say another word. She wasn't the bantering type. Instead, she dug her fingers into the wall behind her and tore out a large chunk of concrete. ...And heaved it at Tim's head. The Batman had no trouble dodging the projectile. None whatsoever. It did leave him open for the faster-than-an-average-human attack of the Batgirl, however. Oops. A left. Another left. A right. This girl could hold her own. ...And Tim still had some clinging notion of chivalry. His fibro-armor absorbed the blows he didn't dodge (but for how long?) And he was hesitant to hit a woman. It... felt wrong. But if he didn't do something quick, bad things would happen. They always did, if you weren't careful. Always. Split-second decision time. You're getting assaulted. You know you can outfight your opponent. Problem: your mind stands in the way. Solution: clear your mind and let your body do what it knows. Duck. Dodge. Block. Punch. ...What a punch. Tim couldn't believe his eyes as he saw the Batgirl go sailing a good twenty feet back, cracking the plastifoam coating the walls and doing a great impression of a thunderclap. "I... didn't think I could hit that hard..." Tim mumbled, glancing like an idiot from his fist to Batgirl and back, dumbfounded. "I always told my students," A weak voice piped up, "Never be surprised with the extents of your own abilities." Carrington. "I thought you were out of it, Penguin." "It's Bradley, please. And as I just stated..." Carrington was smiling. Kylie Roarke was in his grasp, his glowing blade pressed up near her. "It appears I owe you an apology," The Penguin smiled. "Elaborate sting, young man. You'd have made a fine Leaguer. Still; all this trouble for one rogue such as myself? Doesn't seem right." "Doesn't seem wrong either," Tim heard himself growl. "Stay where you are!" Carrington yelped, his sword glowing brighter. "Now, I have no intention of killing any that don't deserve it... but intentions aren't always enough to keep blood from your hands, young man. Remember that. Now, here's what's going to happen. I'm leaving; Maria's leaving, and we're taking the detective with us, to be released after we leave the city limits. Deal?" "I don't think so." "Don't be foolish." "You're a murderer." "These people peddle filth to the innocent, vigilante! Their lives don't matter!" The Penguin shouted into Kylie's ear, practically deafening her. His face was beet red. "All lives matter," Tim said, in the calm, even tones of the man he'd learned that lesson from. "I agree with you in spirit, Bradley. But I won't let you kill until the line between innocent and guilty blurs too much. I refuse." "Don't make me do this, vigilante. Please." Bad position to be in, Tim thought, groaning inwardly at the understatement. So what to do? No more Anti-Teke darts (those things are murder to come by) a good 40 feet between hither and yon. Every advantage belongs to the Pengu- SHHHHHHHZZZZZZZAAAAK! A burst of lightning flew over Tim's shoulder, hitting The Penguin square in the face. He fell down immediately, but was still breathing. "What the f-?!?" Tim asked, spinning towards the direction of the blast. He saw three Justice Leaguers. Door. Xero. And someone new; looks like a little homework was on for later. If there was a later, Tim thought. A dark-haired man in a dark blue Keravin suit stepped through the extradimensional portal Door had created, surveying the scene. "Grab them both," he said, winking at Tim as he did so. "Hey, wait! You can't just...!" "I can't?" The dark-haired man smiled. "You have no idea, my young friend. Still - I knew you'd say something like that. You're the one. You're the one." And Alucard Holmes nodded approvingly to Tim Drake... **** END! **** NEXT ISSUE: Going to the Movies with Tim! (Oh yeah; and find out just what happened with Alucard!) **** GOING BATTY **** Letters! Here we go! Date: Wed, 30 Sep 1998 17:20:57 -0400 From: Matthew Minnich To: darvey@rocketmail.com Subject: Batman #20 Hey I haven't bought comics in close to 1 1/2 years and I need the fix your stuff gives me. Keep it coming. It was great and I am looking forward to more info on the Penguin. Matthew Minnich ****Thanks, Matt! I hope that this issue gave you an idea of the drive ol' Pengy has. And I hope you enjoy the next issue, the really big confrontation!**** Date: Tue, 29 Sep 1998 22:13:43 -0500 To: darvey@rocketmail.com From: Wayne Ligon Subject: Batmail Very good issue. I liked the Penquin appearance a great deal, plus the mention of these 'academies' got me to thinking about the nature of Tim's increasingly manifest 'programming', for lack of a better word. I just got done with the last three issues before this one came -- An excellent issue. Keep up the good work. Wayne. ****Will do, Wayne! (And people, remember to read Black Lightning, now!) Tim's programming is going to let him loose for a while; but his insanity shall return soon... VERY soon (say, issue #25) wherein we will be looking at his attempts to either cure it... or die! (Think Silence of the Lambs, huh? And remember, we actually HAVE an evil psychiatrist!) Stick around!**** AND NOW, JASON TIPPITT SOUNDS OFF ON A BATMAN: DCF MOVIE CASTING CALL! Date: Sat, 19 Sep 1998 14:33:47 -0700 (PDT) From: Jason Tippitt Subject: Tipp's Batman Casting Call To: darvey@rocketmail.com Okay, here we go. I'll offer explanations on a couple of these. Tim Drake: Ben Affleck (a lot of people have picked him, but he's my take also; would be Jason Patric if Tim were older) Richard Drake: Hume Cronyn (Jessica Tandy's widower; I figure Tim's dad must have been pretty old for him to be Tim Drake I's youngish grandson in 2112) Mark Grayson: still Tom Skerritt Jon Isaac: Bill Paxton Paul Chandler: Daniel Baldwin (he played him already on Homicide) Donna Olsen: still Jennifer Aniston Ennis Hobbs: James Earl Jones Alfred: Gabriel Byrne (seen Triggerhappy by Joey Bishop's son?) Joker: John Malcovich Grover Bowles: Matthew McCaughnehey Angel Tuscotti: Donald Sutherland Alucard Holmes: Harvey Kietel Mr. October: Andre Braugher Tino Merani: Greg Dulli (Afghan Whigs' lead singer) Dark: Brent Spiner Jonathan Weiss: Michael Madsen Cherry Red or Midnight Blue: Bridget Fonda Clark Kent: Armand Assante (seen The Odyssey? Gotti?) Kylie Rourke: Moira Kelly Shannon Mitchells: Jennifer Connelly -- Jason ****Interesting picks, Tipp - and certainly not the way I'd have gone with some of them, but hey! Does anyone else have a Bat Casting Call for me? Send it!**** THE LAST FEW PARAGRAPHS OF THIS ISSUE WERE WRITTEN TO THE FOLLOWING SONGS Lullaby - Shawn Mullins Traditional Irish Folk Song - Denis Leary Money Talks - AC/DC Thank U - Alanis Morrisette Kiss Me Deadly - Reel Big Fish Bad Boyfriend - Adam Sandler I KID YOU NOT. And with that, I bid you adieu until next time, when Batman: DCF goes to the movies! -Erik VISIT GOTHAM: http://www.geocities.com/area51/chamber/9727/gotham.html VISIT THE DCF DISCUSSION BOARD: http://disc.server.com/discussion.cgi?id=6074