SEL Chapter 29

Steph reluctantly gets out of bed in Wayne Manor. The morning is passing, and real life won’t wait just because last night was a little more near-deathy than usual.

In the shower, she scowls at the water swirling around the drain.

For a moment, she really had thought she was a goner when Roxy shook her free of the rocket. As she plummeted toward Gotham, she’d shrieked for Clark and gotten Kara instead. There’d been a time when they’d been good friends, but when Steph left the costume life behind, she’d left Kara as well.

Even from their two minutes together last night, it was clear that Kara hadn’t forgotten being dropped that way. Steph doesn’t know if Kara’s more upset that Steph cut her off, or that Steph didn’t reach out when she put her cape back on.

“Alfred, will I ever not hate myself?” Steph asks as she sits down to the breakfast that has been prepared for her.

“Oh, yes. That’s one of the first things Master Bruce conquered,” Alfred replies, pouring her coffee. The dining room feels vast. It’s the size of a high school gymnasium, and the ticking of the huge grandfather clock is downright spooky. This would be intolerable at night, but in the morning, plenty of sunlight falls through the tall windows.

“You’re sassing me? I just got up, and you’re sassing me? Looks cold out there.”

“It is. You’ll be pleased to know that Ms. Rocket is safely in Blackgate. The device you attached to the rocket was enough to bring it down.”

“Was she hurt bad?”

“Nothing she won’t heal from. It’s a win, Ms. Stephanie. Well done.”

“I bet Dick or Babs or Bruce could figure out how to use the grapple to not pancake on a fall like that,” Steph says dejectedly. “I had to call for help.”

“Knowing when to ask for help is the most important part of this business,” Alfred says kindly. He must’ve already eaten, because he’s just sitting there with his tea. That’s fair. He gets up early.

“I thought it was not killing people.”

“Master Bruce would agree with you.”

“Oof.” Stephanie shovels her egg and sausage scramble into her mouth. “Mm. Protein. Yes. Function. I function. Robot function. Protein.”

“It would appear that something happened at the home of Vicki Vale last night, and Ms. Bertinelli was involved.”

“Everyone OK?”

“No bodies were found.”

“Then Helena’s doing her job. Makes sense that Vicki’s got enemies if she was selling sex tapes. Helena seems reliable. I feel so grown-up saying that.”

“Ms. Stephanie, you are twenty-eight years old.”

“Am not.”

“Mmm.” He peers at her over his teacup.

“Mmmmm,” she mumbles back at him rebelliously, shaking her head from side to side.

“You have a way with words.”

“How’s Babs? Campaign really going that bad?”

“Dire,” Alfred replies.

Steph winces. “I’d like to help her, but I can’t even help myself.”

SEL

“We’re taking a beating,” Lucius reports.

Barbara’s in her campaign office; it’s just a phone call.

“I’ve taken beatings before.”

“Not like this you haven’t.”

“Where’s the money coming from?” Barbara asks. “Viti’s fundraising is fine, but it’s not better than mine. Are they using their own cash? Are board members doing this?”

“No. The Board knows how damaging it would be if any major influence peddling came out with Mr. Wayne away, so while they’re out there fundraising for Saxena, this isn’t Wayne money coming up against you. I have no doubt there’s something suspect going on,” Lucius adds. “Our insistence on playing by the rules is hurting us.”

“Lucius, I love my father. There’s only so low I can go.”

“I respect that, Ms. Gordon. And I’ll respect you just as much after you lose. How are things with Ivy?”

“On a personal level, pretty good. Better than any reasonable person would expect,” Barbara adds with a laugh.

“Then you were right. Right to trust her. Right to give her a chance.”

“Too early to say that much, but maybe. I hope so.”

“It all works against you. Nobody cares that Viti Saxena is in a same-sex relationship; or at this point, the number of people who do is too small to matter. Especially with her opponent identifying the same way.”

Barbara shakes her head and straightens her glasses. She still isn’t used to thinking of herself as someone who dates women. But she does date women. Seed is a hell of a ****.

“So now it’s down to the woman in a stable marriage versus the woman who’s sleeping with reporters and murderers.”

Barbara winces. “Yeah. Yup. Yes, sir.” She sucks her breath in through her teeth. “Can we rehabilitate that?”

“Of course. The average American voter has a memory about as long as that of a goldfish. But they don’t have to remember when Viti Saxena is cramming every possible ad vector so full of reminders about how horny and irresponsible you are versus her common sense, tough on crime stance.”

“Do I need to get tough on crime?”

“Won’t work; your dad isn’t commissioner anymore, or that alliance could’ve easily handed you this election. At least before the attack on GCPD. The Gordon name won’t do it. Elevating your name is possible, but you’ll have better luck if you can get some dirt on Saxena. Bringing her down is going to be a lot easier than bringing yourself up,” Lucius insists.

That’s probably true, but Barbara doesn’t love it.

SEL

The rhythmic clanking of weights is a nice accompaniment to the music in Steph’s headphones. She takes them off when she sees Alfred approaching. She’s working out in the cave instead of at the gym; the Kara thing has her feeling bad about herself, and the fact that she enjoys those two muscle chicks drooling over her is… also complicated for her self-respect. To think she used to be in what she thought was a normal, committed relationship with a nerd like Tim Drake. The thought of accepting that she’s horny for women now just feels wrong. Is this what Catholic guilt is like?

Steph isn’t going to take the day off from fighting crime, but she’s giving herself a break from complicated emotional stuff.

“As requested,” Alfred says, handing her a folder.

Roxy’s at Blackgate. Most of the other heavy hitters are unaccounted for at the moment. Steph doesn’t hate the idea of going after them proactively, but that seems like a job for a real Bat person, not Spoiler. The only one she knows where to find is Penguin, and she has no particular business with him at the moment.

The only active weirdo right now is ‘The Spider’.

This is an odd one. Extremely rich Gotham men have been robbed by this person, but they’re all uniformly tight-mouthed. No matter how much they’ve lost, they don’t talk about what happened.

The name comes from a single photograph taken of one of the victims, strung up with white ropes in his penthouse high above the city. The leap to spider imagery seems long to Steph, but the name stuck.

Because so little is known about this thief, and the fact that no one gets hurt, they have never been a priority. There is a suspicion that they have hit more wealthy Gothamites than anyone realizes, because there must be some out there who are afraid to even report their losses to the police.

“It does appear that the Spider has become more active recently,” Alfred informs her.

“How do we know?”

“Insurance claims on paintings and other items with significant value.”

“Is Selina changing her brand?”

“No, Ms. Kyle only works for something that she personally wants. That, or a thrill. The Spider is more mercenary.”

“Big-ticket items only, huh?” Stephanie stops lifting and looks through the folder. These are photos and files ripped out of GCPD’s active cases and printed.

She can investigate this person and perhaps save some rich guys from getting robbed.

Or she can go on patrol and perhaps help some normal people.