Then she had gone, Harlequin returned to the night, and the window was shut.

[una_persson]

Characters: Una Persson, Bruce Wayne
Date: Shortly after the end of the Yard Sale event
Location: One of Batman's bolt-holes in the Metal sector
Situation: Una isn't actually looking for Batman, but she's going to find him anyway.
Warnings: References to drug use, breaking and entering, other warnings TBD.

Una's further inquiries on the matter of Dust had led her to a kedan named Jing in the Water sector. He would have been more helpful if he hadn't nodded out in the middle of their conversation (as a result of which, he was now in the medical care of other kedan), but he did offer some leads around experiments in the Metal sector as a possible origin for the stuff. Further snooping in that sector directed her toward a building about which a number of neighbours expressed vague misgivings—when pressed for details, they shrugged and waved it off, with nothing specific to say.

So now she's creeping along the outer perimeter of the structure in question, looking for a way in and hoping she doesn't set off any alarms. Hacking security apparatus is not her forte, and she's beginning to think that maybe she ought to have gotten the help of someone for whom it was. Nevertheless, blind luck and what skill she has in breaking and entering seems to be on her side, and she manages to make her way inside.

The result is disappointing—it appears to be some kind of dojo, as best as she can tell. Further investigation proves it to be irritatingly, immaculately clean, with no hint of who might be using it.

Comments

[cowled]

Each warehouse and safehouse Bruce owns through his myriad shadow companies and fronts has several things in common. The first is that none of them are under his name, or even remotely tied back into Wayne Enterprises. He's scrubed and laundered their ties to him so thoroughly that he doubts even the Emperor could finagle his identity from them. The second is that they are all set with alarms that are linked directly to the small computer he's cobbled together and that he keeps in his belt, and also to the watch he wears as Bruce Wayne.

It's the watch that goes off while he's in the shower, telling him that the warehouse six blocks over has been broken into. He is out of the shower and dressed inside of forty seconds, and out the door before a minute has passed. He takes his time on the street, counting every moment, nodding and waving and smiling to all the right people until he can duck into an alleyway where he has one of his spare suits stashed, and then he dons it and takes to the rooftops.

He makes it to the warehouse in record time and watches through the skylights. The warehouse is still dark, the only light filtering in through the windows, but he recognizes the figure creeping around in it, and his wariness is suddenly in triplicate. Una. Here? In one of his boltholes. What could have possibly lead her here? He'd have known if she followed him, and he has no other ties to this place.

Stark would have known. How close were they, really? He knows they spoke several times, but never considered it a point of contention until now. Kyle and Dinah both know this location. Dick, Tim, Damian. Clark. Lois. Arthur. So many people, so many potential leaks.

(His chest constricts. Cassandra and Stephanie knew it too)

He eases the skylight open and drops through soundlessly to the floor. It's a considerable drop, but he knows how to land and his boots are silicon-soled. Then he simply stands there, arms folded. Waiting for her to notice him, and then make her move. What she says or how she acts will determine whether or not she's uncovered enough of his secrets to make an educated guess at his identity.

[una_persson]

There's a soft sound somewhere to her left and she freezes. Belatedly she realises then that she's standing in a rectangle of dim light coming through the windows and if someone is there, they absolutely have the drop on her.

Stupid, stupid, she thinks, and quickly steps back into shadow. In the dimness, she can make out a shape—tall—horns? She remembers the intimidating kedan with their horns and scales and her hand goes to the grip of her gun.

[cowled]

"Don't." The word's like a whipcrack. Una knows his voice better than most, but he's had nearly two decades of disguising it to suit his purposes. Alfred would be proud. Bruce doesn't move from where he is, it's always unnerved people more to remain completely, inhuman still, though he does drop a batarang down into his hand. Even without the Starlite lenses in his cowl, Bruce has always had exceptional night vision - he knows the calibre of firearm she has wouldn't penetrate his body armour - but it'll hurt like hell if she shoots him, and he has six different vectors planned to knock it out of her hand if she draws it.

"What are you doing here?" It's the low snarl he uses when he's conducting an interrogation. Usually implemented against people he's dangling by their feet over cracked pavement thirty stories below.

[una_persson]

It's not a kedan voice—Una recognises that immediately. But not one she's familiar with, though something about it nags at the back of her mind. Or would, if she wasn't feeling very, very worried.

She puts both hands up in the air, palms out—nothing to see here, nothing up my sleeve.

"I wasn't expecting a foreigner," she says, a non-answer that is obliquely an answer, or a beginning of one.

[cowled]

She doesn't recognize him. Yet. Almost, he relaxes, and berates himself for the urge. Has he been so softened by being here? Damnit.

He says nothing to her non-answer, merely waits for further elaboration. He still feels the tip of the batarang against the index finger of his gauntlet, a barely-there pressure.

[una_persson]

There's a prickle of annoyance at the back of her neck. I see what you're doing there, she thinks, with the silent treatment and the immobility. Men always tried to intimidate her—or at least, they tried until they realised that it got no change out of her. Even if she can't see his face, she looks back at him directly, her expression blank and not displaying the very real alarm that she's also feeling.

And she's keeping her hands where he can see them. She knows how that works too.

She's tempted to simply meet his silence with her own and see how long it is before he breaks, and she does take rather longer to respond than maybe is entirely wise. Finally she says, "Have you heard of a drug called Dust?"

[cowled]

He lets the silence stretch a moment longer. Then, "Yes." He doesn't bother saying, what of it? She'll explain or she won't. But it's the first hint that she may not be here for his identity's sake.

Una is... someone he he doesn't want to have to manipulate the way he did Sasha. For whatever it's worth.

[una_persson]

She tilts her head and, deciding that faint heart never won—well, much of anything, she takes a step toward him, trying to pick out more details of his appearance in the dimness.

"Would you tell me if this place had anything to do with it?"

[cowled]

He doesn't move, or even giving the appearance of caring that she's attempting to scrutinize him. Bruce Wayne's expressions never mimic the grim countenance he bears now.

"No," he says flatly. "It wouldn't be any of your business." He'll already have to pack up shop and abandon this warehouse, he doesn't intend to give her any more information than absolutely necessary in the meantime.

[una_persson]

"Evandau made Dust my business. Well, mine and that of a few others." Which was true, but as for whether there had been an official extension of their investigative remit—well. Una had never shied away from white or grey lies before and she wasn't about to start now. She takes another step toward him. "Mind you, this doesn't look like a drugs clearing-house to me, despite what your neighbours might or might not be saying, so I'll believe that much."

[cowled]

"I haven't given you anything to believe." On the contrary, he's done just the opposite. Implied he knows about the drug, and refused to tell her if he had any hand in it. She's stalling, trying to buy time. To catch him with her guard down.

He stands firm, and does not move. Let her come.

[una_persson]

"No. I don't suppose you have." She moves closer. "Tell me. Is there anything you want except for me to get out of here?"

She reaches into her pocket now and takes out her lighter.

[cowled]

The lighter could be used for any number of things. Lighting a cigarette. Illuminating his features. He keys the Starlites for automatic adjustment, and his frown deepens. "If my answer is 'no', will you leave?"

Damn her, the closer she gets, the harder it is to think. To react. She's no threat to him, savvy or not she doesn't have a tenth of his training. But she's remarkable, and that's always been his kryptonite. He finds himself wondering if she'd get along with Selina.

(Or Talia.)

action

[una_persson]

The lighter flicks on and she holds it out, away from her face, trying to get a better look at him. Rather than answer his question, she frowns, tilts her head in puzzlement. Stares.

"What in the world are you supposed to be?" she blurts out.

[cowled]

He grits his teeth a little in sheer frustration. That is one of the things he dislikes most about this place - having to build up his reputation once more from scratch. He feels nineteen again at times, young and stupid. He would do so much over, if he could.

(He would be a father, first.)

"Batman."

[una_persson]

It says something about Una's usual context, perhaps, that the word evokes not a night-time terror for criminals, but the word for a military manservant.

Her mouth twitches and she bites the inside of her lip, forcing herself not to laugh. It becomes harder when she realises that the points on the top of the hood are supposed to be—well, to resemble bat ears. She reminds herself that whatever he's wearing, the man has the advantage of her and probably reasonably sophisticated weaponry under that cloak, and in so doing quells any further levity.

"Of course. I'm sorry, I should have guessed." Well, that slipped out, but she's not taking it back or apologising for it. She snuffs the lighter and puts it away again. "And what does a Batman do? Or is that classified as well?"

[cowled]

His scowl deepens. He knows when he isn't being taken seriously. So he says nothing once again, merely lapses into silence. She doesn't need an answer.

[una_persson]

He's not sulking, is he? Surely not.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I don't mean to be rude; this is just a bit outside my usual experience."

[cowled]

"Yet you think you know enough to be here." He is definitely not sulking, thank you. He's simply questioning her motives and ability.

[una_persson]

"I want to get to the bottom of this Dust business," she says, deciding she has nothing to lose at this point by being plain. "All that brought me here was a few neighbourhood misgivings about this place, so I thought it might be worth a look. If I'm well up the wrong tree, then that's that." She smiles, rather humourlessly. "Of course, now I have to wonder about a foreigner who goes about under cover of night in a hooded cape—" with bat ears, for god's sake "—and who clearly has no taste for trespassers. And who, despite that, hasn't tried to kill me or knock me unconscious or any of the usual sorts of things people up to no good do to intruders."

She's thinking out loud at this point, but it's also a way of attacking his absurdly taciturn manner, by saying exactly what's on her mind. Perhaps it's reckless to seek a reaction so directly, but her curiosity has gotten the better of her in a long way by now.

[cowled]

That's annoying. He's set up blinds and double blinds to fool the kedan, and the fact that they've taken enough notice of him to be suspicious of one of his hideaways is not exactly something he's pleased to hear. This location has been compromised, and he'll need to step back and re-evaluate.

One good thing about owning a business on the turtle, it's ever-increasing capital is sufficient for him to adapt to situations as they come.

"I don't kill." It's an automatic rebuttal. The backbone of everything he stands for. Batman doesn't kill.

[una_persson]

"Lucky for me, then." The rejoinder is as automatical as the rebuttal. "And you listen, too. Normally I'd expect to be forcibly out on my ear long ago. But you actually want to know what I have to say."

[cowled]

"Not just anyone can track me down," he says mildly. It's... almost praise. "Even if you're grossly off base, it still merits investigation."

[una_persson]

"So you can better cover your tracks?" The corner of her mouth twists in amusement. "Very wise. I can only imagine you won't be making use of this place anymore, will you? Now that you know people are watching. It's what I'd do."

[cowled]

"This line of work requires a certain ruthless efficiency of thought." It's slight agreement, and Bruce gives her another look. Speculative. "If you want to pursue this line of investigation, you could use resources." Ones he has, is the implication here.

[una_persson]

She tilts her head slightly, curious, cautious.

"Is that an offer?"

[cowled]

"It's a consideration," he says mildly. He's always had a high opinion of Una - she's everything he likes seeing in another human being. Smart, efficient. Fast and willing to learn. Lois holds the record for the most competent civilian he's ever trained in what he does, but he bets Una might just match her.

And he... likes her. To an extent.

(But then, he ran into the same problem with Sasha Bordeaux, didn't he.)

[una_persson]

She regards him thoughtfully, wondering more now.

"Why me? Why give me a chance?" Would he have done the same for any other nosey foreigner poking about his things?

And who is he? Surely she must have at least seen him in mufti at some point. Not that she knows every foreigner in Keeliai, but it's simply a matter of statistics.

[cowled]

"Are you turning me down?" he counters firmly, not willing to allow her to turn the conversation onto him too closely. He has his reasons, of course, and if pressed he could rattle them off at his leisure. But to divulge them with sincerity would lay parts of him bare that he prefers to keep to himself.

[una_persson]

"I'm pretty sure there was never a 'no' in there," she replies, a delicate parry that is delivered like an afterthought. "I suppose I'm just slightly surprised by it, is all. It's not as if you owe me anything—if anything, it's the other way around, since I've clearly rather put you out this evening."

[cowled]

His mouth quirks upwards, and he's glad of the shadows that hide the expression. "I'm not too egotistical as to fail to recognize good work when I see it. You could use a better sense of direction, but you've done adequately."

[una_persson]

She actually chuckles at that. "I'll take that as a compliment." She tilts her head at him, still studying him, and moves closer, to just outside of arm's reach if he'll let her. "All right. What's the catch?"

[cowled]

He doesn't move or shift, any motion now would make it seem as if she was getting under his skin. (She isn't. She can't. But regardless, he won't give her the satisfaction.

"You report your findings to me. Directly."

[una_persson]

"Share and share alike?" She considers. "Not unreasonable. Though I would like to know just a little more about what it is you do with your resources. Looking after the well-being of the foreigners, that sort of thing?"

[cowled]

"That sort of thing," he echoes, his tone bland. Her words, not his. She's free to assume what she likes, and all the better if he can avoid direct confirmation or denial of her suspicions. He wonders if it's fruitless to spar with her verbally - she's good enough to pick up on him doing it, though he suspects he's better.

[una_persson]

I see what you're doing there, she thinks. "As you like, then," she says. "All right. You've got an arrangement, then." A beat, and then she brazenly offers her hand.

[cowled]

He ignores it. Bruce doesn't shake hands, not like this. Instead he gives her a final long look, and he steps back into the shadows. "I'll be in touch," he says, and then he pulls one of his Patented Bat Disappearing Acts.

[una_persson]

After he vanishes, there's a beat, and then an audible snort of laughter.

"Show-off," Una murmurs. She's quite determined to figure him out now. Still, she's not going to do anything so stupid as to lose herself an ally.

She grins, checks her gear, and to the listening dark says, "I'll just see myself out, then?" And then she too is gone into the night.