The Last Son of Tomorrow
- Thread starter Ryuugi
- Start date
Interesting. I like Batman Beyond, and have been enjoying Young Justice, so I'm curious to see how this plays out.
Hopefully Terry won't stay a businessman forever. While it could be interesting, especially if he is approached by the Light, it's more fun to have at least some asskicking going on.
He could serve as an interesting counterpoint to Lex in regards to Superboy. Seeing that would be awesome.
Hopefully Terry won't stay a businessman forever. While it could be interesting, especially if he is approached by the Light, it's more fun to have at least some asskicking going on.
He could serve as an interesting counterpoint to Lex in regards to Superboy. Seeing that would be awesome.
XxXXxX
Terry was currently bored out of his mind. He was sitting alone at his big desk in his huge office, filling out enormous amounts of paperwork.
One of the disadvantages of climbing up the economic ladder as quickly as he and his company were now doing was that all those permits that needed to be filled out, bills that needed to be paid, events that needed to be scheduled, materials that needed to be ordered, and meetings, speeches, and negotiations that had to be planned still had to happen. Added to all of that, people needed to be paid, vacations had to be accounted for, workers had to get background checks, new buildings had to be constructed, new employees had to be hired on a global scale, patents had to filled out for new inventions, research had to be funded, he had to pay taxes, and that was just the beginning. There were two faces to every companyùthe public face and what happens behind the scenes in places like his officeùand while how they looked to everyone else was important, it was what happened in here that made the company rule, even in companies that werenÆt doing anything illegal, like his.
All of which amounted to him having to basically fill out huge amounts of paperwork.
It kind of made him wish he had a Lucius Fox to do all of it for him. He could hire assistants of his own, but even though he wasnÆt doing anything wrong, there were still a lot of things he didnÆt want people he wasnÆt sure he could trust to see. Common sense would told him there were a lot of people out there that would steal from him or try to ruin him if the assassination attempts hadnÆt already made that obvious.
The downside of not being able to trust anyone was that you, well, couldnÆt trust anyone.
So here he was at twenty-three minutes past midnight, angrily scrawling his signature onto one of the forms, removed it from the space in front of him, and angrily slapping it down on top of the completed pile. He did the same thing with the next and the one after that and the one after that, repeating the process again and again while constantly wishing heÆd suddenly discover his Kryptonian Heritage and shoot laser beams out of his eyes and incinerate his desk or something.
He paused for a moment as his wrist began to pain him and took the break from the paperwork almost gratefully even though he knew it would only last a moment. He put his pen down for a moment and rolled his wrist slowly, but a moment later, Mother Box fixed it and pinged.
ôYes, Mother Box; I realize the more I get done now, the less IÆll have to do later.ö Terry said, taking a calming breath. HeÆd had to do that a lot these last few years. ôThank you for your assistance.ö
He picked up his pen and returned to signing forms while Mother Box pinged again.
ôSomeoneÆs always coming, Mother Box. We live in Metropolis and weÆre in one of the biggest buildings in the city.ö He said, though he obediently took note and straightened up. When Mother Box warned him it was always worth paying attention. He swerved around in his seat, gazing over the Metropolis Skyline as it elaborated. Even in the dead of night, it never really got dark in Metropolisùthe city kept itself bright long after the sun went down.
Terry liked it that way; it reminded him of Neo-Gotham.
ôComing by air? Is it Superman or should I make myself scarce?ö Terry asked, standing. He reached over to pick up the suitcase heÆd traded his backpack for years ago. There was a secret compartment for him to fold his other suit in, though it also worked fine to carry documents. As Mother Box made another ping, he stopped in place, freezing entirely. ôOh.ö
He gently set down his suitcase and looked at it silently for a long moment before all but falling back into his chair. Just sitting there for a second, he inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling.
ôOh,ö He repeated. He licked his lips. ôWell, we figured it was only a matter of time, didnÆt we?ö
These last few years, heÆd stuck mainly to his headquarters in Metropolis, leaving only when duty called. HeÆd been to Gotham a few times on special occasions and had even been in the same room as Bruce Wayne now and againàbut they hadnÆt really talked much and when they had, it had been Bruce who usually initiated the conversations.
HeÆd wanted to go over there and talk the first time heÆd seen the man, but the first time heÆd seen him it was like heÆd been rooted to the floor. Bruce Wayne in this world and time was soàdifferent. He younger, but it wasnÆt just that.
Terry had always known Bruce Wayne after heÆd been Batmanùafter heÆd taken the mask off, at least. But this Bruce Wayne was the mask. And there had probably been a time when the same was true for his Bruce; that Batman had been the really face. But mask or not, this Bruce Wayne was a partier, to the eyes of the public, and a playboy. A happy, easygoing rich kid, rather than a jaded old man.
HeÆd known from the beginning that this wasnÆt the Bruce Wayne of his world. But it was then and there that heÆd realized how dissimilar they were beyond that. And it had beenàuncomfortable, to watch. He didnÆt have anything against the man, but seeing him standing there, partying, laughing, playing aroundùit had just been surreal to watch. It was like heÆd come home to find a dusty old mansion and someone had torn it down to put up a superman instead.
It had seemed wrong to try to go over there and simply start a conversation with a man that he realized he didnÆt know at all.
But then the question aroseùhe didnÆt know Bruce Wayneàbut did he know Batman?
He hadnÆt had a chance to check.
No; he hadnÆt wanted to risk it by checking.
But it wasnÆt really up to him now, was it?
Mother Box vibrated silently against his chest, both reassuring and warning. He had five seconds to do something.
He chose to wait, counting down the seconds like they were the timer of a bomb.
ôI know youÆre there,ö Terry spoke after five seconds had passed. ôWould you like to come in, Batman, or do you want to have a look around first?ö
Terry was currently bored out of his mind. He was sitting alone at his big desk in his huge office, filling out enormous amounts of paperwork.
One of the disadvantages of climbing up the economic ladder as quickly as he and his company were now doing was that all those permits that needed to be filled out, bills that needed to be paid, events that needed to be scheduled, materials that needed to be ordered, and meetings, speeches, and negotiations that had to be planned still had to happen. Added to all of that, people needed to be paid, vacations had to be accounted for, workers had to get background checks, new buildings had to be constructed, new employees had to be hired on a global scale, patents had to filled out for new inventions, research had to be funded, he had to pay taxes, and that was just the beginning. There were two faces to every companyùthe public face and what happens behind the scenes in places like his officeùand while how they looked to everyone else was important, it was what happened in here that made the company rule, even in companies that werenÆt doing anything illegal, like his.
All of which amounted to him having to basically fill out huge amounts of paperwork.
It kind of made him wish he had a Lucius Fox to do all of it for him. He could hire assistants of his own, but even though he wasnÆt doing anything wrong, there were still a lot of things he didnÆt want people he wasnÆt sure he could trust to see. Common sense would told him there were a lot of people out there that would steal from him or try to ruin him if the assassination attempts hadnÆt already made that obvious.
The downside of not being able to trust anyone was that you, well, couldnÆt trust anyone.
So here he was at twenty-three minutes past midnight, angrily scrawling his signature onto one of the forms, removed it from the space in front of him, and angrily slapping it down on top of the completed pile. He did the same thing with the next and the one after that and the one after that, repeating the process again and again while constantly wishing heÆd suddenly discover his Kryptonian Heritage and shoot laser beams out of his eyes and incinerate his desk or something.
He paused for a moment as his wrist began to pain him and took the break from the paperwork almost gratefully even though he knew it would only last a moment. He put his pen down for a moment and rolled his wrist slowly, but a moment later, Mother Box fixed it and pinged.
ôYes, Mother Box; I realize the more I get done now, the less IÆll have to do later.ö Terry said, taking a calming breath. HeÆd had to do that a lot these last few years. ôThank you for your assistance.ö
He picked up his pen and returned to signing forms while Mother Box pinged again.
ôSomeoneÆs always coming, Mother Box. We live in Metropolis and weÆre in one of the biggest buildings in the city.ö He said, though he obediently took note and straightened up. When Mother Box warned him it was always worth paying attention. He swerved around in his seat, gazing over the Metropolis Skyline as it elaborated. Even in the dead of night, it never really got dark in Metropolisùthe city kept itself bright long after the sun went down.
Terry liked it that way; it reminded him of Neo-Gotham.
ôComing by air? Is it Superman or should I make myself scarce?ö Terry asked, standing. He reached over to pick up the suitcase heÆd traded his backpack for years ago. There was a secret compartment for him to fold his other suit in, though it also worked fine to carry documents. As Mother Box made another ping, he stopped in place, freezing entirely. ôOh.ö
He gently set down his suitcase and looked at it silently for a long moment before all but falling back into his chair. Just sitting there for a second, he inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling.
ôOh,ö He repeated. He licked his lips. ôWell, we figured it was only a matter of time, didnÆt we?ö
These last few years, heÆd stuck mainly to his headquarters in Metropolis, leaving only when duty called. HeÆd been to Gotham a few times on special occasions and had even been in the same room as Bruce Wayne now and againàbut they hadnÆt really talked much and when they had, it had been Bruce who usually initiated the conversations.
HeÆd wanted to go over there and talk the first time heÆd seen the man, but the first time heÆd seen him it was like heÆd been rooted to the floor. Bruce Wayne in this world and time was soàdifferent. He younger, but it wasnÆt just that.
Terry had always known Bruce Wayne after heÆd been Batmanùafter heÆd taken the mask off, at least. But this Bruce Wayne was the mask. And there had probably been a time when the same was true for his Bruce; that Batman had been the really face. But mask or not, this Bruce Wayne was a partier, to the eyes of the public, and a playboy. A happy, easygoing rich kid, rather than a jaded old man.
HeÆd known from the beginning that this wasnÆt the Bruce Wayne of his world. But it was then and there that heÆd realized how dissimilar they were beyond that. And it had beenàuncomfortable, to watch. He didnÆt have anything against the man, but seeing him standing there, partying, laughing, playing aroundùit had just been surreal to watch. It was like heÆd come home to find a dusty old mansion and someone had torn it down to put up a superman instead.
It had seemed wrong to try to go over there and simply start a conversation with a man that he realized he didnÆt know at all.
But then the question aroseùhe didnÆt know Bruce Wayneàbut did he know Batman?
He hadnÆt had a chance to check.
No; he hadnÆt wanted to risk it by checking.
But it wasnÆt really up to him now, was it?
Mother Box vibrated silently against his chest, both reassuring and warning. He had five seconds to do something.
He chose to wait, counting down the seconds like they were the timer of a bomb.
ôI know youÆre there,ö Terry spoke after five seconds had passed. ôWould you like to come in, Batman, or do you want to have a look around first?ö
Batman was too trained to make any noise, but Terry knew he was surprised. A part of him half expected Batman to just come in through the window, but he shook the childish thought away immediately.
After a minute passed by in silence, he just went back to filling out his reports, figuring Batman was taking the long way around. He was probably was going to have a look around in the building, too, so Terry settled himself in for a wait.
Bruce, being himself, proceeded to keep him waiting. It annoyed Terry more than a little bit, but it didnÆt worry him.
He had nothing to hide.
Nothing that was in this building, at the very least.
It wasnÆt until nearly twenty minutes later that Mother Box shook against his chest again, causing him to raise his head and look at the door.
ôCome in,ö He said, signing one last form as the door slid open. ôTo be honest, IÆm kind of disappointed you just came through the door. IÆd kind of hoped to be on the receiving end of your famous sudden appearances.ö
It was kind of childish, but heÆd really wanted to see the old man in action, kind of like a tiny little ninja wanting to see his daddyÆs awesome skills. But even Batman had to wake up pretty early in the morning to get something past Mother Box.
ôThereÆs no point if you already know IÆm here,ö Batman said, taking one step over the doorway and letting the door close behind him. He let his cloak flow over him, hiding his hands completely. They might have been close to his utility belt, ready for anything, or they might be completely at easeùTerry couldnÆt tell, which was probably the idea. ôYouÆre pretty observant for an ordinary businessman.ö
It was almost an accusation, but mostly an attempt to probe for information.
ôYes, well, IÆm awesome,ö Terry replied, not falling for it. ôWould you like to tell me why youÆre here, Batman?ö
ôYou donÆt seem surprised to see me.ö He noted.
ôThatÆs not an answer,ö Terry sighed. ôBut no, Batman; if anything, IÆm kind of surprised it took you this long to come see me.ö
ôWhy would I come see you?ö Batman asked, tone all business, urging Terry to talk rather than provide any answers of his own.
Terry resisted the urge to role his eyes as the basic interrogation technique, but kept talking anyway. He could stay silent, but that would just make Bruce even more suspiciousùand itÆs not like Batman had anything on him. He couldnÆt, since Terry hadnÆt done anything wrong.
But Bruce was talking business so he straightened up and did the same.
ôYouÆre suspicious of me, of my background, of my company, of my closeness to Superman, of my inventions, of my intentions, etc.ö Terry made a rolling gesture before shrugging. ôAny of those or all of them. Maybe even a few I missed. Now, if you have any actual questions for me, IÆd be more than happy to answer them. Or you can continue letting me ask the questions and answer them and we can string this along. But can we hurry this up? I have a lot of paperwork to finish. Not that this conversation isnÆt riveting or anything.ö
He had a feeling the Bruce was glaring at him behind that mask but he ignored it and continued.
ôIf you wish to check to make sure my company is on the level, then feel free to do so. I have no intention of hindering your investigations in anywayùthough there are naturally things my company will need to keep hidden, such as the designs of our products. If you would prefer, then instead of snooping around at night, you can come by with Superman in the daytime; IÆll clear things with the front desk and you can look around as much as you want. As long as you donÆt antagonize them or hinder their work, you can even speak to my employees.ö Terry offered. ôYou can even stop by to question me after whatÆs probably going to be a sleepless night when IÆm sure to be easier to question.ö
When Batman didnÆt reply, he took the silence as consent and reached for the notepad on his desk to scribble himself a reminder. Looking back up at Bruce, a childish part of him wished he could see the manÆs face. He was willing to bet Batman had never received a response like this to one of his investigations.
ôIs there anything else I can help you with, Batman?ö
The Dark Knight was silent for a long moment, just watching Terry.
ôWhy are you doing this?ö He asked and if Terry hadnÆt known any better, the felt he might have heard a faint trace of confusion in his voice.
ôI think you already know that. What does an innocent man have to fear from Batman?ö Terry asked rhetorically. ôYou wonÆt find anything, no matter how hard you look, because IÆve done nothing wrong and neither has my company. I have no intention to do anything wrong, either. I donÆt mean to boast, but I have no need to do soùIÆm already so successful. Why would I risk it all on some illegal scheme?ö
Batman stood as if heÆd half expected that. For a moment, Terry thought he was going to ask another questionùbut he didnÆt. Maybe at this point, he wasnÆt sure what to ask. HeÆd look around, Terry was sure, and go over everything with a fine-toothed comb, searching as much for questions as for answers, but Terry wasnÆt worried.
Bruce turned back towards the door.
ôIf Superman comes by tomorrow, IÆll invite him for a cup of coffee like I always do. If you want, you can come too. Goodbye, Batman.ö Terry said as he left.
As the door slid closed, Terry sighed quietly, before checking his watch and smiling.
The night wasnÆt over yet.
He still had time.
After a minute passed by in silence, he just went back to filling out his reports, figuring Batman was taking the long way around. He was probably was going to have a look around in the building, too, so Terry settled himself in for a wait.
Bruce, being himself, proceeded to keep him waiting. It annoyed Terry more than a little bit, but it didnÆt worry him.
He had nothing to hide.
Nothing that was in this building, at the very least.
It wasnÆt until nearly twenty minutes later that Mother Box shook against his chest again, causing him to raise his head and look at the door.
ôCome in,ö He said, signing one last form as the door slid open. ôTo be honest, IÆm kind of disappointed you just came through the door. IÆd kind of hoped to be on the receiving end of your famous sudden appearances.ö
It was kind of childish, but heÆd really wanted to see the old man in action, kind of like a tiny little ninja wanting to see his daddyÆs awesome skills. But even Batman had to wake up pretty early in the morning to get something past Mother Box.
ôThereÆs no point if you already know IÆm here,ö Batman said, taking one step over the doorway and letting the door close behind him. He let his cloak flow over him, hiding his hands completely. They might have been close to his utility belt, ready for anything, or they might be completely at easeùTerry couldnÆt tell, which was probably the idea. ôYouÆre pretty observant for an ordinary businessman.ö
It was almost an accusation, but mostly an attempt to probe for information.
ôYes, well, IÆm awesome,ö Terry replied, not falling for it. ôWould you like to tell me why youÆre here, Batman?ö
ôYou donÆt seem surprised to see me.ö He noted.
ôThatÆs not an answer,ö Terry sighed. ôBut no, Batman; if anything, IÆm kind of surprised it took you this long to come see me.ö
ôWhy would I come see you?ö Batman asked, tone all business, urging Terry to talk rather than provide any answers of his own.
Terry resisted the urge to role his eyes as the basic interrogation technique, but kept talking anyway. He could stay silent, but that would just make Bruce even more suspiciousùand itÆs not like Batman had anything on him. He couldnÆt, since Terry hadnÆt done anything wrong.
But Bruce was talking business so he straightened up and did the same.
ôYouÆre suspicious of me, of my background, of my company, of my closeness to Superman, of my inventions, of my intentions, etc.ö Terry made a rolling gesture before shrugging. ôAny of those or all of them. Maybe even a few I missed. Now, if you have any actual questions for me, IÆd be more than happy to answer them. Or you can continue letting me ask the questions and answer them and we can string this along. But can we hurry this up? I have a lot of paperwork to finish. Not that this conversation isnÆt riveting or anything.ö
He had a feeling the Bruce was glaring at him behind that mask but he ignored it and continued.
ôIf you wish to check to make sure my company is on the level, then feel free to do so. I have no intention of hindering your investigations in anywayùthough there are naturally things my company will need to keep hidden, such as the designs of our products. If you would prefer, then instead of snooping around at night, you can come by with Superman in the daytime; IÆll clear things with the front desk and you can look around as much as you want. As long as you donÆt antagonize them or hinder their work, you can even speak to my employees.ö Terry offered. ôYou can even stop by to question me after whatÆs probably going to be a sleepless night when IÆm sure to be easier to question.ö
When Batman didnÆt reply, he took the silence as consent and reached for the notepad on his desk to scribble himself a reminder. Looking back up at Bruce, a childish part of him wished he could see the manÆs face. He was willing to bet Batman had never received a response like this to one of his investigations.
ôIs there anything else I can help you with, Batman?ö
The Dark Knight was silent for a long moment, just watching Terry.
ôWhy are you doing this?ö He asked and if Terry hadnÆt known any better, the felt he might have heard a faint trace of confusion in his voice.
ôI think you already know that. What does an innocent man have to fear from Batman?ö Terry asked rhetorically. ôYou wonÆt find anything, no matter how hard you look, because IÆve done nothing wrong and neither has my company. I have no intention to do anything wrong, either. I donÆt mean to boast, but I have no need to do soùIÆm already so successful. Why would I risk it all on some illegal scheme?ö
Batman stood as if heÆd half expected that. For a moment, Terry thought he was going to ask another questionùbut he didnÆt. Maybe at this point, he wasnÆt sure what to ask. HeÆd look around, Terry was sure, and go over everything with a fine-toothed comb, searching as much for questions as for answers, but Terry wasnÆt worried.
Bruce turned back towards the door.
ôIf Superman comes by tomorrow, IÆll invite him for a cup of coffee like I always do. If you want, you can come too. Goodbye, Batman.ö Terry said as he left.
As the door slid closed, Terry sighed quietly, before checking his watch and smiling.
The night wasnÆt over yet.
He still had time.
How will he get to Multi Dimensional Time Traveller quickly? This is a world where aliens exist and can look like humans.. Unless Batman gets some of Terry's blood, I would think the idea that Terry is selling off alien tech would be more prominent.. Occam's Razor and all that..
Now, if Bruce did get some of Terry's blood and found out that he was Bruce's biological son.. THEN I could see him coming to that conclusion..
Now, if Bruce did get some of Terry's blood and found out that he was Bruce's biological son.. THEN I could see him coming to that conclusion..
'Multi-dimensional time-traveler' is, quite frankly, a ridiculous assumption to jump to like that. Having similar DNA with Bruce has a number of explanations in the DCU, especially since we have Word of God that no one in the YJ Universe even knows of other dimensions.
Clone is the obvious one, naturally, and technically the correct one. Depending on the accuracy of the tech and given the fact that Cadmus used tech to make sure that Terry was mostly identical to Bruce (so similar that the possibility of having used nanotech to overwrite his biology was proposed), the possibility of similarities between his DNA and Thomas Wayne's could even potentially come up, which could mess with Bruce, since Thomas died about when Terry would have been born, as far as Bruce knows. Aliens are possible, too. And as bzzt said, YJ and DCAU Bruce could have different DNA, which could skew the results enough to raise questions.
While Robin and Larry had the same DNA, TT was it's own continuity, after all, and a number of other versions from other world in the comics had very different DNA. Several had organs on the opposite sides of their body, for example, and Superman has teamed up with other Supes that were blond, dark skinned, etc. While that could be a result of different Universes interpreting things differently (which as far as we know is false, since the Universes are a result of different things happening time wise, more or less, ala What If's and Elseworlds--and besides, the Fifth Dimension Larry refers to is a spatial dimension within the same Universe, rather then an alternate dimension), they could also just have different DNA.
This'll come up, however, don't worry. I just wanted to remind everyone that DNA is a tricky thing in the DCU.
Edit:
Also, DNA checks aren't Batman's first response to everything guys. They're useful, of course, but their main purpose is to find out if you are who you say you are or figure out who you're related too. Since Batman knows Terry is Terry, the only thing he'd find a DNA test useful for is finding his parents, who are, according to Terry's records, dead and cremated. Eventually, he'll go check on that to make sure it's true, but what would he gain from doing that atm? At best, he could find the parents and...what? Their son, if he had anything to hide, could pay them a million dollars to be quiet and not notice the loss, assuming that they were alive, would talk to their sons enemies, and he had anything to hide.
Seriously, guys, how often do you see Batman run DNA tests? Not very, because it's not super useful if someone's not wearing a mask or something.
Clone is the obvious one, naturally, and technically the correct one. Depending on the accuracy of the tech and given the fact that Cadmus used tech to make sure that Terry was mostly identical to Bruce (so similar that the possibility of having used nanotech to overwrite his biology was proposed), the possibility of similarities between his DNA and Thomas Wayne's could even potentially come up, which could mess with Bruce, since Thomas died about when Terry would have been born, as far as Bruce knows. Aliens are possible, too. And as bzzt said, YJ and DCAU Bruce could have different DNA, which could skew the results enough to raise questions.
While Robin and Larry had the same DNA, TT was it's own continuity, after all, and a number of other versions from other world in the comics had very different DNA. Several had organs on the opposite sides of their body, for example, and Superman has teamed up with other Supes that were blond, dark skinned, etc. While that could be a result of different Universes interpreting things differently (which as far as we know is false, since the Universes are a result of different things happening time wise, more or less, ala What If's and Elseworlds--and besides, the Fifth Dimension Larry refers to is a spatial dimension within the same Universe, rather then an alternate dimension), they could also just have different DNA.
This'll come up, however, don't worry. I just wanted to remind everyone that DNA is a tricky thing in the DCU.
Edit:
Also, DNA checks aren't Batman's first response to everything guys. They're useful, of course, but their main purpose is to find out if you are who you say you are or figure out who you're related too. Since Batman knows Terry is Terry, the only thing he'd find a DNA test useful for is finding his parents, who are, according to Terry's records, dead and cremated. Eventually, he'll go check on that to make sure it's true, but what would he gain from doing that atm? At best, he could find the parents and...what? Their son, if he had anything to hide, could pay them a million dollars to be quiet and not notice the loss, assuming that they were alive, would talk to their sons enemies, and he had anything to hide.
Seriously, guys, how often do you see Batman run DNA tests? Not very, because it's not super useful if someone's not wearing a mask or something.
You can't really keep Lex Luthor from weaponizing anything, if he really wants too. The guy was sent to prison and they had to steadily remove stuff from it because he kept making stuff to break out with. In the end, he was left with only paper and ink...which he figured out a way to make an explosive with. He just chose not too, because then they'd take away his paper and ink, too.
So yeah. Lex probably could weaponize the cure for cancer, somehow, but refusing to produce something because he can weaponize it literally means you can't do anything.
The files are hidden as best they can be and the patents, trademarks, and copyrights are there to make it harder and sue him afterwards.
So yeah. Lex probably could weaponize the cure for cancer, somehow, but refusing to produce something because he can weaponize it literally means you can't do anything.
The files are hidden as best they can be and the patents, trademarks, and copyrights are there to make it harder and sue him afterwards.
XxXXxX
Finally finished with everything, Terry carefully packed everything away, locked all the draws and doors, shut off the lights, and walked to the car heÆd bought. It was no Batmobile, but it got him places and didnÆt cause people to make a fuss, so that was fine, he supposed.
Slowing a bit as he reached it, he let Mother Box run a scan on it to make sure nobody had attached any bombs to it or cut the brakes again.
He kind of had to feel bad for his car insurance company.
Mother Box pinged its findingsùno one was trying to kill him today, apparently, but someone had attached something to it that was giving off a signal. Probably a tracer. Crouching, he curved his fingers under the backend of the car, running his fingers alongside it until he felt something uneven. Detaching it with two fingers, he lifted it into the light of a streetlamp.
As heÆd suspected, Bruce had put it there. Naturally, it was bat-shaped and everything.
Tossing it over him shoulder with a mild grin, he got into his car. It was a short drive home, even though he lived outside the city limits, and since he always had to work long hours, there was very rarely traffic as he went home. A part of him wondered if Bruce was going to follow him home, but he doubted itùwhere he lived wasnÆt exactly hard information to come by, even if you were the WorldÆs Greatest Detective. The tracer had probably been put there to monitor his movements, not track him home.
It wasnÆt until he was safely home, behind all the defenses it offeredùwhich was a lotùand down in his safe room that he was sure that he was beyond any prying eyes and could relax completely. His safe room was nothing compared to the Batcave, but it wasnÆt supposed to be, either. HeÆd told Superman about it and even showed him inside, so even Batman shouldnÆt be too suspicious of it. It was really just a bedroom, behind several layers of defenses, as should be expected of someone who regularly underwent Assassin attempts. It didnÆt have anything suspicious inside of it, or even much decorationùit was a Spartan, featureless room, all things considered.
But to Terry, it was extremely useful for one reason more than any other.
The entire room was completely sound proof. In fact, he could say with complete certainty that a Boom Tube could open in the middle of the room and someone listening at the door would never know.
Smiling, he opened his suitcase, using the secondary combination to open the secret compartment rather than the main one, and withdrawing his suit. For a moment, he just looked at it, feeling the deceptively soft material conform to his touch.
HeÆd had to modify it. He hadnÆt wanted toùin fact, it had almost seemed like a crime. But as much as he wanted too, he couldnÆt be known as Batman right now. Someone would notice eventually and all the wrong people would get interested. So heÆd had to make some changes, no matter how much he hadnÆt wanted too. The bright red bat on the chest had been replaced with the same black as the rest of the suit and heÆd had to remove the ears completely.
It was kind of silly to pout over the loss of a symbol and some ears, but so sue him. He was Batman, this was his Batsuit, and taking parts of it away seemed almost wrong.
But a man had to do what a man had to do, so he replaced his clothes with his suit, slide Mother Box into its special compartment on his Utility belt, and basked in how good it felt to be back in his suit at all. HeÆd kept up his training and had taken regular trips to a number of cities to foil crimes and keep his game up, but this was his first real mission in what seemed like a long, long time.
ôYou ready, Mother Box?ö He asked, smiling beneath his mask as he heard her response. ôYeah, me too. Ace, watch the fort. You know what to do if anyone tries to get in.ö
Ace barked from his spot on the bed and the feed heÆd attached to his collar after locking the door transmitted it to his communicator. If he started barking, Terry would know that he needed to check on the place.
ôMother Box?ö
A nearly concussive bang filled the room before he even finished speaking as the Matter Threshold opened up before him.
Without another word, Terry took a running start and jumped through the portal, coming out the other end over twelve miles in the air above his target.
It felt good to be back.
Finally finished with everything, Terry carefully packed everything away, locked all the draws and doors, shut off the lights, and walked to the car heÆd bought. It was no Batmobile, but it got him places and didnÆt cause people to make a fuss, so that was fine, he supposed.
Slowing a bit as he reached it, he let Mother Box run a scan on it to make sure nobody had attached any bombs to it or cut the brakes again.
He kind of had to feel bad for his car insurance company.
Mother Box pinged its findingsùno one was trying to kill him today, apparently, but someone had attached something to it that was giving off a signal. Probably a tracer. Crouching, he curved his fingers under the backend of the car, running his fingers alongside it until he felt something uneven. Detaching it with two fingers, he lifted it into the light of a streetlamp.
As heÆd suspected, Bruce had put it there. Naturally, it was bat-shaped and everything.
Tossing it over him shoulder with a mild grin, he got into his car. It was a short drive home, even though he lived outside the city limits, and since he always had to work long hours, there was very rarely traffic as he went home. A part of him wondered if Bruce was going to follow him home, but he doubted itùwhere he lived wasnÆt exactly hard information to come by, even if you were the WorldÆs Greatest Detective. The tracer had probably been put there to monitor his movements, not track him home.
It wasnÆt until he was safely home, behind all the defenses it offeredùwhich was a lotùand down in his safe room that he was sure that he was beyond any prying eyes and could relax completely. His safe room was nothing compared to the Batcave, but it wasnÆt supposed to be, either. HeÆd told Superman about it and even showed him inside, so even Batman shouldnÆt be too suspicious of it. It was really just a bedroom, behind several layers of defenses, as should be expected of someone who regularly underwent Assassin attempts. It didnÆt have anything suspicious inside of it, or even much decorationùit was a Spartan, featureless room, all things considered.
But to Terry, it was extremely useful for one reason more than any other.
The entire room was completely sound proof. In fact, he could say with complete certainty that a Boom Tube could open in the middle of the room and someone listening at the door would never know.
Smiling, he opened his suitcase, using the secondary combination to open the secret compartment rather than the main one, and withdrawing his suit. For a moment, he just looked at it, feeling the deceptively soft material conform to his touch.
HeÆd had to modify it. He hadnÆt wanted toùin fact, it had almost seemed like a crime. But as much as he wanted too, he couldnÆt be known as Batman right now. Someone would notice eventually and all the wrong people would get interested. So heÆd had to make some changes, no matter how much he hadnÆt wanted too. The bright red bat on the chest had been replaced with the same black as the rest of the suit and heÆd had to remove the ears completely.
It was kind of silly to pout over the loss of a symbol and some ears, but so sue him. He was Batman, this was his Batsuit, and taking parts of it away seemed almost wrong.
But a man had to do what a man had to do, so he replaced his clothes with his suit, slide Mother Box into its special compartment on his Utility belt, and basked in how good it felt to be back in his suit at all. HeÆd kept up his training and had taken regular trips to a number of cities to foil crimes and keep his game up, but this was his first real mission in what seemed like a long, long time.
ôYou ready, Mother Box?ö He asked, smiling beneath his mask as he heard her response. ôYeah, me too. Ace, watch the fort. You know what to do if anyone tries to get in.ö
Ace barked from his spot on the bed and the feed heÆd attached to his collar after locking the door transmitted it to his communicator. If he started barking, Terry would know that he needed to check on the place.
ôMother Box?ö
A nearly concussive bang filled the room before he even finished speaking as the Matter Threshold opened up before him.
Without another word, Terry took a running start and jumped through the portal, coming out the other end over twelve miles in the air above his target.
It felt good to be back.