ORACLE DD Ch 4

Barbara is not about to cooperate with someone like Aria Falcone.

The lights in Ivy’s little jungle simulate natural light perfectly, shifting from bright day to soft night to mirror their intended climate. The simulated moonlight is pale and gray, bathing the three women on the soil-covered floor.

Perhaps if she had more feeling in her legs, Barbara would have a stronger opinion about being nude in the dirt. Ivy seems quite at home, and Harley—well, it’s no surprise that Harley seems totally unbothered.

Barbara does not reflect on how there was likely a time when the notion of having Harley Quinn behind her without clothes on would have made her feel something very different. Harley passionately squeezes and massages Barbara’s breasts, and she left so many hickeys on Barbara’s neck that she already knows she’ll have to be a scarf person tomorrow.

More or less helpless, only half because of her legs, Barbara doesn’t worry about the noise level as Ivy tickles her bellybutton and kisses her deeply.

Once Ivy kisses her way down to Barbara’s inner thighs, Barbara can only lean back into Harley’s embrace and try to control herself. It’s not easy with Harley flicking her nipples and sealing her mouth with a kiss. Ivy spreads Barbara’s legs wide and gets down low with her hips in the air. Orgasms come as quickly as reality goes away. Barbara finds herself flat in the dirt with a hard nipple in her mouth, Harley’s finger on her clit, and Ivy’s fingers inside her. All her hands feel is warm flesh; she can’t make sense of it.

ORACLE

As much as it must have pained Alfred, he wasted no time after Bruce’s disappearance. He has full control of the Wayne fortune in the event of Bruce’s absence, and has reallocated significant funds. It isn’t that Bruce is in any way miserly with the money—it’s the opposite. Bruce has a perfectly good mind for business, which he does not use, and this leads to some financial inefficiency that Alfred doesn’t care for.

Refusing to get lost in the deepest intricacies of the ethics surrounding such vast sums of money, Alfred had sought to do three things: get the money where it was needed, get it to whom Alfred personally felt ought to have it, and grow the fortune further. Bruce was more apt to simply give money to a cause, while Alfred preferred to invest in things that looked promising, like vaccines and agricultural solutions targeting climate change. And when one has as much money as Bruce Wayne does, even a modest return on investment is meaningful.

In any case, one of the recipients of money in the wake of Bruce’s disappearance was Dick Grayson.

Dick got along comfortably with a pittance of a trust after leaving home, which had been purely a matter of pride. Between the Titans, his occasional dabbling in the world of having a real job, and his faithful nightly service as Nightwing, there hasn’t been time to live luxuriously even if he’d wanted to.

The result is that Dick Grayson has money.

Meanwhile, Leslie Thompkins has none. Programs that she conceives to be sustainable inevitably suffer expensive setbacks, often coming from City Hall—under the last administration, two ordinances were passed mysteriously that made it increasingly difficult for nonprofits to operate in Gotham.

Meanwhile, she has come under attack from hospital networks and even insurance companies with a shadow smear campaign drawing attention to just how much money she has taken from the Wayne Foundation. They hinted that she was embezzling it and that Wayne Enterprises was using her as a blind to experiment on unsuspecting people. There was no evidence, but evidence had ceased to matter with these sorts of allegations in the public discourse a long time ago.

That was why Leslie had recently distanced herself from the Wayne Foundation and sought outside funding. She had refused Bruce, refused Alfred, and refused Dick because she felt that it was more important for people to trust the operations she had than to expand them.

Dick doesn’t see why she can’t do both.

He lands without a sound on the roof of the original Thompkins Clinic in Park Row, all but invisible in the black of Nightwing. It’s almost as difficult to secretly give someone money as it is to steal it, but all of that is trivial when one is best friends with Victor Stone. Dick carries a flash drive that will create a perfect paper trail of small donations that will be just enough to get Leslie’s whole network through this quarter. She will suspect, but she won’t fight it. She’s a realist.

An engine starts in the alley behind the building. Dick flits to the edge and looks down to see a nondescript Toyota pull away. There shouldn’t be anyone here at this hour; this building is all PCPs and offices for Leslie’s administrative staff; it isn’t one of the 24-hour clinics. He ropes down in an instant and goes to the back entrance. That could’ve been someone swinging by work for something, but why not park out front? Why park in an alley? In Gotham?

Dick looks both ways, then overrides the electronic lock and enters the dark building.

ORACLE

“Remember, everyone. Gotham Tour Buses are armored and airtight,” the tour guide at the front of the bus says cheerfully. “Joker gas, gunfire—whatever. You’re safe in here.” He pauses to take a drink from his Starbucks cup, which is about half whiskey. He smiles at the full seats in the bus. Now that the Batman is back, these witching hour tours are all packed. “We even have extra powerful heaters in case we run into Mr. Freeze. But coming up on your left is what’s known as Crime Alley. It’s an important piece of Gotham history because it’s where Thomas and Martha Wayne were tragically murdered. The **** of the Waynes marked a turning point in Gotham on a cultural level; the city had been in economic decline for some time, but the Waynes had visibly spearheaded efforts to counter that. They were a rare example of extremely rich people that were popular with pretty much everyone. After their deaths, people in Gotham felt defeated. It wasn’t until the Batman appeared and fought back against some of the people who were openly terrorizing the city that Gothamites regained a little of that energy. Things have been complicated since, but these days we have Spoiler and the Huntress looking out for us here and Nightwing in Bludhaven. People have different opinions about costumed vigilantes, but I find it reassuring that there’s someone out there who cares if I live or die. God knows, the IRS doesn’t.” He pauses as a few people laugh. “And if we look on our right, that’s the very first Thompkins Clinic. It’s a bit bigger and more modern now than it used to be—it used to be no bigger than a bodega. Unique to Gotham, the Leslie Thompkins Healthcare Agency operates fourteen locations in the greater Gotham area, offering access at no charge to reproductive—”

Blinding fireballs explode from every window in the building, and the bus rocks with the strength of the blast, creaking even as sound goes in and out. Everyone screams and the guide drops his cup as he feels the explosion kick at something in his chest. The driver swears and slams on the brakes as huge chunks of masonry slam into the armored bus like machine gun fire.

Metal wails, and the front of the clinic falls away, revealing a raging inferno.

Blinking, the guide works his jaw and touches his ears, squinting in disbelief through the chipped windows. It’s so bright that it hurts to look at.

“See?” he says dazedly, knocking on the window with his knuckles. “Solid as a rock. Gotham Tour Bus.”

ORACLE

Kate Kane keeps a wary eye out as she climbs out of the car and follows Viti Saxena through the parking lot. Viti’s heels click and echo.

“Maggie and Renee say anything about Jim?” Viti asks once they’re in the elevator.

Viti is not only the commissioner, but she’s also a controversial figure. Having a single uniformed cop as her protective detail is standard procedure. Having that cop be tall, attractive, and flirty is a distraction—but despite being a rookie, Kate is friends with everyone in major crimes, and a good source of information. At least, Viti tells herself that’s why she keeps Kate Kane on this detail.

Kate shrugs. “I think he frustrates everyone. He’s thorough and old-fashioned. Ironically, he’s very mindful of people’s constitutional rights.”

“Why is that ironic?” Viti asks.

“Because his best friend is Batman.”

“Has anyone seen them together since Batman came back?”

“No, and you can tell that his feelings are hurt.”

Viti looks sympathetic. “Poor guy.”

“Worry about yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

The elevator doors open, and Kate follows Viti in the hallway. “You have the mayor, but you don’t have the council. And this thing with your wife won’t get resolved overnight. You’re in for at least a year of this. Don’t worry about Jim Gordon. He can handle himself.”

“You’re my security detail, not my therapist.”

“I’d make such a good therapist,” Kate says wistfully, leaning on the door as Viti unlocks it. Viti rolls her eyes and throws her a look over her shoulder. She scowls.

“What? What is that look?” she asks.

Kate’s eyes all but glow with cockiness. “Go ahead. Invite me in for a drink.”

Viti snorts. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you want to. And because you’re under a lot of pressure. Is there something wrong with getting some emotional support? Is that against the rules?”

“I don’t think emotional support is what you have in mind,” Viti says.

“It’s not what’s on your mind, either.”

Viti blushes. “I’m married.”

“Separated.”

“You’re an arrogant rookie.”

“I’m an older rookie.”

“Is there a story there?”

“I’ll tell you. Over a drink.”

Viti laughs. She hesitates, biting her lip.

Then her phone buzzes. She pulls it out and looks, the color draining from her face.

ORACLE

“You got her off so good she thinks you’re the sorceress,” Harley says.

Barbara is nestled between the two of them in Ivy’s bed. Pillow talk with Ivy is exactly what Barbara always—perhaps unreasonably—wanted to from Dick. It’s heaven. Ivy is sensitive, intelligent, and everything that Barbara wants in a partner except for the ever-present undercurrent of danger. Pillow talk with Harley and Ivy, though? That’s challenging.

Barbara tries to stay focused. “I’m sorry? I’m just saying that Ivy can do literal medical miracles, and that I’m wondering what kinds of therapies she could bring to the table that could change healthcare,” she insists.

“Harls, a sorceress or the sorceress? What sorceress? Which sorceress?” Ivy asks. She and Harley are weirdly in tune; it makes Barbara a little jealous.

“From He-Man. Am I the only one who remembers that? All the other bi girls are all She-Ra, but I remember the sorceress and her little bird costume,” Harley says wistfully. “I like birds. They’re weird, but I like them. Such crazy little guys. Flapping around.”

“Ivy, what would it take for you to do some medical miracles for human beings?” Barbara presses. She doesn’t care how ridiculous it sounds; she can’t ignore the potential offered by Ivy’s arguably godlike abilities. Her brain cannot ignore it.

“Power.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Power, Babs. We need to get away from fossil fuels.”

“That’s, uh, a big ask. Best I can do is push R&D to look for tech that can be widely adopted.”

“It’s also a big ask if you want me to save the gross little animals destroying my planet,” Ivy says with a yawn.

Harsh, but fair.

Influencing Wayne Enterprises to sink resources into renewable power is very achievable on the surface, but it means running face-first into the wrath of energy industry. It is, for lack of a better term, a whole new can of worms. But Ivy is maybe the one person in the world with the power to relatively quickly revolutionize medicine—if she can be convinced to do it. Barbara understands that gaining power on a populist platform is easy, but keeping it is hard—and being a one-term mayor will seriously limit her ability to make meaningful change. She needs big hits if she wants to go all the way, and Ivy can deliver that.

But Ivy won’t lift a finger until Barbara holds up her end. It feels like Barbara has wars on all fronts already. Does she need another one?

Her phone is going off on the table. She ignores it and thinks hard.

Should Barbara take on a clean energy crusade in exchange for medical breakthroughs?

Or stay in her lane?