PRESENT DAY
"No, you listen to me, Elias. I announce we are working together at my next press conference, stir up some media attention, and then we covertly work on Wayne in the meantime. Not the other way around."
Meredith rolled her eyes, picking up the mug of hot tea in front of her and sipping it gingerly. She watched the man pace back and forth across the office, eyebrows wound tightly and hands behind his back.
"I disagree."
He made an exasperated noise. "That much I'm aware of."
She set down the mug, narrowing her gaze. "Lex, if you notify the public, there's no way Wayne won't get tipped off. And if he realizes what's going on then game over— we only get one chance to pull this off correctly."
Lex spun around, halting in the middle of the room. "You place too much faith in that absolute imbecile of a man. I could blatantly declare our entire plan and he would be too hungover from the night before to give a damn."
Meredith scoffed. She couldn't exactly come out and say well actually that imbecile of a man also masquerades around as the World's Greatest Detective and would most definitely notice so she had to find a different explanation. "Okay fine, maybe Wayne won't realize what's going on. But you're telling me that no one in the company will get suspicious? Does the name Lucius Fox ring any bells?"
"Hm." He pursed his lips. He rolled his neck back and groaned in irritation. "I suppose. Though, Fox is mediocre at best."
She sighed, tilting her gaze out over the Metropolis skyline. Luthor's office was exactly what one would expect it to look like— grand, cold, and void of anything other than showing off his money. Everything was done in glass, with large windows and doors and even portions of the floor. It felt like there was someone watching your every move— Meredith didn't know how the man could stand it.
"Why do you even want to be President?" she finally asked. "Do you not have enough media exposure as it is?"
The businessman turned around languidly, his stare hard and bitter. It was his turn to scoff. "Why does someone like me want anything, Meredith?"
She waited for him to fill the silence. She furrowed her brows. "Is that rhetorical, or...?"
"Power!" He sounded exasperated. "To right the wrongs cast upon society by our failure of a government. You of all people should know what it's like to want that— that's why I came to you."
She crossed her arms. "You're right, I do. But when have you ever cared about what happens to society? It sounds to me like all you're focused on is righting the wrongs cast upon yourself."
"Elias," he seethed. "You don't know a single thing about m—"
"What's your first action as President, then?" she interjected. "Convince me that you're not just in this for self-interest and then maybe I'll tell you what I think we should do about Wayne."
Lex's eyes were a terrifying shade of green, darting around her face so quickly that it made his pupils look almost akin to those of a snake. Snakeboy was what she and Bruce used to call him in high school. It was somewhat comforting to know that it still rang true.
He finally sighed, tapping a button on his watch and suddenly multiple holoscreens were appearing around his body, casting the room in dim blue light. "I want to take a proposed moratorium on fossil-based fuels to the U.S. Congress. According to my scientists, if we stop extracting 90% of coal reserves, as well as 60% of oil and gas reserves in the next thirty years, we can limit global temperature rise by 2.7 degrees. Not nearly where I want to be, but you know how politics are."
She scanned the information on the screens, before smirking slightly. "How many times did you practice that in your mirror?"
His features contorted into anger. "Elias—"
"Now, tell me your real first action, not this 'save the turtles' bullshit."
That elicited a growl from his throat. He tapped his watch again and the screens shifted.
"I want Gotham."
She glanced at the maps of the city behind him, shifting her weight in her seat. "Well, now you've got my attention."
"Gotham is one of the biggest producers of technology in the world between you and Wayne," he explained. "There's a lot of potential— plus, people love to see the classic 'shithole revamped into shining Metropolitan playground' trope."
He raised his hand and brought another screen forth, showing news articles of the corruption in Gotham. "Our government constantly mishandles the city and people are angry— they've been angry for years. The extreme unpopularity of the current administration's botch-job with Gotham politics will only result in more positive numbers for me in the polls."
Meredith knew where he was heading. "And you want me to be seen working with you because—"
"—Because who is the one person who's always been at the forefront of the push to better Gotham City? Why, it's none other than their very own princess who, not to mention, is also incredibly popular in the media right now for partnering with the world's most beloved roster of heroes."
She slowly picked up her mug, drumming her fingers on the side. "You think the people trust me."
"Are you telling me they don't?"
Meredith was silent.
With another tap of his watch, the screens disappeared. "As I told you weeks ago, Elias, we both benefit from being seen publicly together. My numbers go up in the polls, and you finally get to save your precious city. And now, as an added bonus, we both get to ruin that dunce Wayne, because—" He paused to laugh. "Let's be honest, Meredith. It's been a long time coming. He doesn't deserve or use his power as we do."
Images of Batman saving innocent people from burning buildings and fighting supervillains flashed behind her eyes.
Meredith sipped her drink. "Right." She set it down and stood out of her chair, clasping her hands in front of her. "Well then, with that settled, let me tell you what I think we should do about said dunce."
Lex gave her one of his rare grins— the grin he used when officiating a business deal— a grin she wished he didn't use on her ever again.
"But the conditions of our... alliance—" She inwardly shuddered. "—Are on my terms. Not yours."
His grin fell.
"You need me more than I need you, Luthor. So we do this my way or we don't do it at all."
It was very rare that Meredith Elias got to watch Lex Luthor cave into her instructions, so she doubted anyone could blame her when she slightly relished in the feeling.
His stare was void and cold. He finally rolled those nearly lime green eyes. "Very well."
"You want to forge the deeds to the land that Bruce owns in your name, correct?"
"Assuming you sign yours over to me as well, giving me full control of the city, yes. The problem that is Gotham City, unfortunately, cannot be fixed by mere Congress policy-making. Of course, that's what we'll make it look like to the public, but in order to truly get to the root of the corruption, we'll have to handle it behind the scenes."
Meredith nodded. "I... think trying to forge the deeds without Wayne noticing won't go over well. I suggest we try something else."
Lex chuckled. "Meredith, please. It's Bruce. The same teenage party boy who went to jail for smashing a guitar through the window of a cop car. I assure you, with my technological prowess, the man won't notice until it's too late."
She bit back a knowing smirk at the fact that Luthor, a man who was supposed to be one of the brightest minds of the age, just compared Batman to a teenage party boy. "I still think it's too risky. Again, even if it's not Bruce, someone at Wayne Enterprises will realize what's going on."
The man looked irritated once more. "Then, please, enlighten me with what you plan to do, because we keep circling back to the same exact point—"
"What if we can get him to legally sign the deeds?"
He appeared blank. She could tell he was calculating what she'd just said.
Lex huffed. "Continue."
"Perhaps... a beneficiary could sign? I do have one of his sons working for me at the moment, who just happens to be turning eighteen in a few weeks—"
"Wayne would have to be dead for that to work. I, to be very honest, am completely fine going down that road if you're in agreement, but I assume you're not. And even if you were, there's too many legalities and chains of command to go through before Wayne's eighteen-year-old could haphazardly sign away his capital."
Meredith thought for a moment, and suddenly a very horrible idea— so horrible and scandalous and just plain wrong— crossed her mind. So wrong that she didn't even want to bring it up, in part because of how many ways it could backfire on her, but mostly because it would probably actually work.
"Hypothetically, who... who says the deeds have to be signed to you?"
"Well, in this hypothetical world we're creating, I'm president. So—"
"But our deal is that I give you good press, and you let me complete my goal of fixing Gotham. And I already own half of the deeds anyway, so doesn't it make more sense for me to just get the other half?"
"Absolutely not. How could I be guaranteed that you won't just sever ties with me and follow your own agenda?"
"By this point in our hypothetical universe, I'll be publically associated with you. I already have a master plan set to rebuild Gotham, and as I carry it out under your administration, it will reflect positively on you. Win-win."
"Hm." He tilted his head ever so slightly, turning around and slowly striding away from her. He paused. "And let's say hypothetically that I approve of this. How exactly do you plan on legally gaining control of Wayne's assets?"
This was the part of the plan she'd been avoiding. In the back of her mind, she, for once, prayed that the businessman would scoff at her idea and call it ludicrous as he usually did.
"I agree with you that a son wouldn't have that kind of power but..." She couldn't help her voice from getting caught in her throat. "A... a wife would, wouldn't she?"
Lex's eyes suddenly snapped towards her, cutting into her soul in the most terrible way.
There was that gleaming grin of his again. "And just who would this wife be, exactly? Just so we're on the same page."
She cringed, unable to hold his gaze and looking out the window once again. "Don't make me say it, Luthor."
And then he was laughing. A sound that made her want to shrivel up into her chair because fuck he actually agreed with her.
"I'll spare you the embarrassment, Elias. I do have to admit, though. I'm... thoroughly stunned by your apparent level of dedication."
"I'm sure," she commented dryly.
"Well, then." He strode towards her and held out his hand. "While we'll have to work out the smaller details, I believe, for probably the first time ever, we have a deal."
She glanced at his hand wearily, having an awful feeling that she was making a grave, grave mistake.
Meredith clasped her hand in his and gave it a firm shake, meeting his eyes. "I guess we do."
"Oh, and one more thing." He dropped his hand to the side. "Just so you don't think it's alright to take the deeds and run away—"
He didn't break eye contact as he pressed his watch and a holoscreen popped up, showing a recording of the two of them currently sitting in the office. "I won't hesitate to send this to Wayne, and then everyone loses. Consider it insurance."
Her heart sunk, but she made sure it didn't show on her face. She smiled evenly.
"I would expect nothing less of you, Snakeboy."
The rage that exploded across his face almost made this all worth it. Almost.
"Get the hell out of my office, Elias."
* * *
Meredith had never been scared to enter a room. If anything, it was her favorite part of a meeting— her father once told her to study the way a person walked into a room and you could figure out everything you needed to know about them.
But now, her stilettos made her feel nothing but wobbly and her red pantsuit was nearly constricting and the color made her stand out way too much and did her hair look bad? She was such an idiot she should've straightened it, why was she so stupid—
"Identity Accepted: Meredith Elias."
As she walked into the Hall of Justice, she noticed that the heroes were thankfully still milling around and chatting with one another. It made her usually dramatic entrance less noticeable.
Be calm be calm be calm—
"Meredith!" Clark's beaming grin made her stomach churn. "You're early!"
Was she? She was never too early and she couldn't risk doing anything out of the ordinary or else her ex-childhood friend turned vigilante would surely notice and what if he was watching her over the cameras that they most definitely had—
She tilted her gaze down to her watch. 7:57.
Meredith rolled her eyes in an attempt to control herself. "By three minutes, Kent."
He chuckled warmly in only the way that Superman could. "How has your week been? I haven't seen you since last Thursday."
"Fine." She began walking into the room and he fell into stride with her. "Busy, but that's nothing new."
"Any funny stories from the office?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you asking."
The kind look fell off of his face. "Can I not just wonder how a friend's week was?"
Friend. Friend. Meredith Elias couldn't afford to be friends with tight-wearing freaks from other planets.
"Where's Batman? I'm on a schedule here."
She almost felt guilty by the way America's Golden Boy appeared saddened.
"Identity Accepted: Batman."
Her heart skipped a beat or two or four.
Meredith looked up with the most nonchalant expression she could muster, seeing a dark figure drift through the center of the room that had quickly fallen into hushed whispers at the presence of its leader. A migraine suddenly started to form at the base of her skull, and she could barely take her eyes off of the toned biceps wrapped in gray spandex that had punched out Johnny Prescott for her the other night like they were in grade school all over again or the black cowl that concealed pink lips that concealed a tongue that had been all but down her throat in her office and those stormy blue eyes and his fast cars and the way she now knew that the man who went toe-to-toe with the world's worst criminals preferred chocolate over vanilla and hockey over basketball and—
Maybe... just maybe, Meredith was having a more difficult time accepting Batman's identity than she had initially thought.
"Meredith?" Clark's tone was quiet next to her. "Are— are you okay?"
"I..." Her voice fell flat in her throat as the Caped Crusader turned to mutter something to Cyborg, washboard abs on full display, and Meredith's cheeks burst into flames.
"It's Ms. Elias to you," she seethed at Clark before storming towards the front of the room.
"Wha—?"
The businesswoman cleared her throat. "Alright. Now that we're all here—"
And then, as if the universe hadn't already put Meredith on the verge of a full-blown heart attack, the computer announced another name.
"Identity Accepted: Bruce Wayne."
She furrowed her brows, thinking it to be some practical joke, but found that, as the metal doors slid open, it was anything but. Because into the room walked Bruce fucking Wayne, looking devilishly handsome in a fitted navy tux, with a pearly grin on full display as he chuckled into his phone.
Meredith's reaction could only be described as numb.
How the hell—?
"Yeah, I know, I'll be there as soon as I can," Bruce's smooth voice wafted across the large room. "I just have to get out of this stupid meeting... a huh. Right. For what? I don't know, some benefactor thing. I just have to sign some papers." He laughed again. "No, and I don't care to, either. Of course. See you, Mark."
If that was Bruce... and it clearly was, then who the fuck was standing next to her?
The members of the League all seemed stunned, and Meredith's face was blank, raising her eyebrows in irritation. She, luckily, could feel her mind falling back into her usual cold businesswoman facade. It's what she did when she was too shocked to come up with a more appropriate reaction.
Bruce hung up the phone, looking like he had only now just noticed that he had walked into a room with the Justice League. His eyes zeroed in on her and her world-renowned poker face almost shattered on the spot.
"Mare!" He spread his arms wide, with the silly three-quarter grin that Bruce had always given her. If she didn't know any better, and she did, he seemed to be... genuinely enjoying himself. "Told you I'd show up eventually."
"Well, finances aren't on the agenda today, fortunately, so you can leave," she spat.
He turned his features into a faux pout. "Maybe I'm just bored."
"Go crash one of your million-dollar cars or take your jet to Spain for the weekend."
"I would," he drawled, casually striding over to one of the empty chairs at the long table and slowly sitting down. "But my new Jaguar's on backorder and the weather in Pico de Europas calls for light showers this weekend, so the outdoor bars will be closed. And is it really Spain without Cava and Flamenco?"
Before she could respond, Hal was scowling in Bruce's direction.
"Hey, Rich Boy, that's my designated seat."
The Son of Gotham appeared so unamused he might as well have fallen asleep. He raised a brow. "Sorry, who are you? Green Arrow or something?"
That got a few chuckles from the table and Meredith rolled her eyes if only to keep herself from falling to the floor out of confusion. Hal, after a few curses under his breath, begrudgingly sat down next to the billionaire.
"Cyborg," she turned to the half-robot. "First on the list?"
"Yeah, I got it," he muttered absentmindedly as he pulled up a few holoscreens in the center of the table. "Looks like we still need to address the issues with the Green Lanterns of Sector..."
As Cyborg explained the problem which came up nearly every week, she waited patiently to see whether Batman would get into his usual argument with Hal or not.
It's just... how could the man next to her not be Bruce? He had the muscles and the stature and the... everything.
"I'm tired of talking about this," Hal groaned. "I told you I'm working on it!"
There was silence instead of what would typically be a fight.
She turned her head to... whoever was next to her. "Batman?"
His head moved slightly.
"No comment?" she asked.
All she received was a grunt in response, followed by him crossing his arms.
"Where's Oliver?" Bruce interjected, head previously resting on one hand. He sat back in his chair with a groan. "He told me he'd be here."
"Aw," Hal cooed sarcastically. "Brucie can't survive a few minutes without his millionaire bestie?"
"Billionaire," Bruce corrected, narrowing his eyes. "And we're supposed to be drinking after this. I don't want to drink alone."
"Hey, I'll drink with you if you want," Barry offered from across the table with a snicker. "My alcohol tolerance is pretty decent if I do say so myself."
Bruce seemed unimpressed, flashing a brief, snobby face that he would've once made in his teenage years. "How much is in your trust fund?"
Barry frowned. "I don't have a trust fund."
"Then I don't think you'll make the cut." Bruce turned his lips down apologetically but his eyes said he was anything but. "Sorry."
For a moment, Meredith might've questioned if this was the same man who played Batman at night if it wasn't for Clark stifling a laugh from the corner. Bruce seemed to pick up on it, too.
"I don't appreciate people laughing at me, Boy Scout."
"You're just quite the character, Mr. Wayne." Clark's eyes twinkled. "That's all."
Meredith allowed herself an eye roll. "If we could please move on from the middle school banter, Victor, can you—"
"Identity Accepted: Oliver Queen."
Meredith huffed.
The doors opened and in drifted the bodacious voice of the blond-haired billionaire that was Oliver.
"Oh my God, Devin," Oliver spoke into his phone much as Bruce had. "I told you, I just don't think she wants me like that. I buy a thousand roses and all she comments on is the stupid placemats? Yeah... a huh. Ha! Honestly, I'd probably have better luck if I was the motorcycle."
Oliver looked up, locked eyes with Meredith, and cringed. "Ah, shit. Your sister's looking at me like I'm in trouble. Mhm. Yeah... yeah, I'll let her know. Alright. Talk to you later."
The blond hung up the phone and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He smiled brightly. "Good evening, superheroes that I donate billions of dollars to out of the kindness of my heart! And Mare, I was just on the phone with your brother, he told me to tell you that your dad wants to talk to you."
"I've seen his calls," Meredith deadpanned. "I'll get to them eventually."
"Good, good," Oliver hummed, his attention now on Bruce. He clapped a hand on the back of the other billionaire as he took a seat next to him. "Hey, are you still going to that lunch with Mark?"
Bruce raised a brow. "You mean his bachelor party that he told us about weeks in advance?"
Oliver paused mid-seat. His mouth dropped. "He's getting married? To who?!"
"Portia."
"With the mom who's the maxillofacial surgeon at Gotham General?"
"No, the one with the grandfather who's the third cousin of J.P Morgan."
"Ohh... that Portia! Damn, there are too many of them to keep up with these days."
From across the table, Barry scoffed, nudging Hal's shoulder. "These are problems I wish I had."
Meredith scowled at the scene. "Alright, thank you both for the wonderful interruption, but if we could please continue—"
"Mare, listen." Oliver held his hands up. "Bruce and I, we're busy guys. Okay? And no offense, because I'm sure your financial plans for the League are flawless, but we don't exactly need to read the fine print, if you get what I'm saying. Just tell us where the hell we need to sign and we'll be outta your hair."
Oh, Meredith was going to slap the shit out of Oliver Queen next time she saw him for playing along with Bruce's "pretentious asshole" act.
"Finances aren't even up for discussion today, so why on Earth you two decided to show up when you're clearly so busy, I have no idea. Feel free to leave at any time, preferably now."
Oliver scoffed softly. "She is so mean to us, Bruce. Isn't she?"
She watched the Son of Gotham choke down a genuine smile, glancing at her with that stupid, irritating twinkle in his eyes. "Just the rudest."
The blond stifled a chuckle before reading the look on Meredith's face and opting to shut up. "Continue, Mare. You know we're just teasing."
"Mhm," she deadpanned, turning her gaze back to the rest of the League who all looked incredibly amused. "Well, since we're already sorely off schedule, I have an issue I'd like to address with the table, if that's alright with you, Cyborg?"
The half-robot nodded, gesturing with his hand. "All you."
"It has come to my attention over the last few weeks," Meredith began as she set her tablet down in the center of the table, creating a holoscreen above it. "That the Justice League is being represented in international as well as federal affairs by A.R.G.U.S, the government organization headed by Colonel Steve Trevor and Amanda Waller. Given that they also deal with collateral damage costs, and seeing as Trevor and Waller are, frankly, incapable of supporting the League, as we saw in Colonel Trevor's last interview in court, I have a proposition— we have them both step down, and I replace them as head liaison of A.R.G.U.S."
There was silence for a moment before the table burst into discussion.
Diana's voice beat out the rest. "Steve is not incapable of supporting the League."
Meredith had already known the heroine would bring up that point. "Diana, American politics aren't truly about making laws to better society. It's all one big popularity game, and the only way to win is to be the public's most favorite. Unfortunately, Steve's relationship with you makes him biased in the eyes of the public, and unless you're willing to terminate that relationship, then there isn't anything we can do to fix his reputation."
Diana's brows furrowed, but other than that the woman was silent.
"And what about Waller?" Victor asked.
"Well," Meredith turned to face the half-robot. "Amanda's just a power-hungry bitch. And I know that anything she can do, I can do better. Regardless of her, I believe that, logically, I'm simply the better candidate. I'm already positively associated with the League and managing collateral damage, and I'm also an actual lawyer, who can actually answer questions under the scrutiny of a jury if need be."
"Let's say we all agreed to this," Clark spoke up. "How do we go about getting both of them to step down, and how do we break that to the public?"
Meredith nodded, thanking the hero for the inadvertent vote of confidence. "I can handle notifying the public, considering they don't want Waller or Trevor there in the first place. But asking both of them to step down is out of my jurisdiction, and someone— i.e Batman or Superman— would have to vouch for me to replace them."
It was quiet.
"Well, you got my vote," Victor finally said.
"Same here," Barry agreed as he gave her a wink.
"Agreed."
"Hundo percent, Mare Bear."
Meredith glared at Hal for his use of the nickname, who did nothing but smirk.
The rest of the heroes, including Diana, seemed to begrudgingly agree. The only vote missing seemed to be from the Caped Crusader standing to her right. Meredith tilted an expectant eyebrow in the direction of the vigilante.
"Batman?"
The man turned slightly towards her.
"You're awfully... nonverbal today," Meredith noted. "Even for you."
"What do you want me to say."
She furrowed her brows. "That you agree with me being the new A.R.G.U.S liaison and that'll you'll get Waller and Trevor to step down?"
He was unmoving, and the room fell into silence.
"We'll see."
Meredith rolled her eyes. She had been expecting that response from... whoever the hell was in that suit. "Figured. This will be a weeks-long process, so the sooner you could let me know your decision, the better." She looked back at Cyborg. "Victor, if you wanted to continue?"
"Yeah, course. So, next up, we still need to figure out..."
The meeting continued on with a surprisingly limited number of interruptions from the two billionaires, who seemed to more or less be behaving themselves. Meredith tried her best to keep her eyes on whoever was talking, but she couldn't help but feel Bruce's gaze burning into the side of her head the entire time. It was incredibly uncomfortable.
"Well, people." Cyborg shut down all of the holoscreens at the front of the table. "If there are no more questions, it looks like that's a wrap for this week."
Soft murmurs rose from the table as everyone began to get out of their seats.
"Wait!" Hal suddenly shot up and his head snapped directly towards Meredith. "I actually do have one more question— you've been avoiding me the last couple meetings, Mare. I don't appreciate being avoided."
She scowled. "And I don't appreciate it when you call me that."
The green-clad hero waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah. Listen, just one question and you can go. You know the drill."
Meredith rolled her eyes, tucking the tablet beneath her arm. "Fine. Hurry up, then."
Hal tapped his chin in thought before snapping his fingers together. "Oh! I got one— so, word has it that you used to be tight with these pretty boys over here. Tell me something embarrassing about them."
She momentarily glanced around and noticed how all of the heroes seemed to be watching them intently. Bruce and Oliver, who had been whispering to each other off to the side, now had their attention locked on her.
Meredith was about to open her mouth and tell Hal something along the lines of fuck off and that his question was too personal for her to answer, when she met Bruce's eyes from across the room and all of a sudden she felt rather compelled to answer.
The Bat had wanted to make her look like a fool in front of his team, and Meredith never minded some perfectly-timed karma.
She took a long, almost-too-dramatic exhale and glanced back at Hal. "How inappropriate do you want it to be?"
That got some chuckles out of several of the members, and a shocked smile from the Green Lantern.
"Shit, uh... as inappropriate as you got!"
"Whoa, whoa," Oliver finally decided to interject. "I really don't think it's necessary to—"
Meredith held up her hand and smiled. "No, no. I think Lantern has a point! Besides, you two are busy guys, right? You have a bachelor party to be attending now, Oliver. Surely no time to sit around and chat."
The blond's mouth fell open and closed, before turning around and looking at Bruce, who just appeared irritated.
"There's this one story," Meredith began, unable to help the smallest of smiles forming on her lips. "It was my brother's twenty-first birthday. And of course, he was throwing the biggest of parties at one of the most high-end clubs downtown. At the time, my father had a thing about no underage drinking. And so, he couldn't stop Devin or any of his friends from going, but, these two geniuses—" She jabbed a thumb at Oliver and Bruce. "—Got upset that they were prohibited from going. So, obviously, in true Queen and Wayne fashion, they decided to pay off the bouncers and sneak in anyway."
Even Oliver now seemed annoyed. "Meredith, we don't need to be telling this stor—"
"And, so?!" Hal interrupted. "What happened?"
Meredith chuckled slightly, looking at Bruce who was nearly glowering.
"Well, that same week, Bruce had made the unfortunate mistake of pissing me off. And when I found out the two of them had gone, I told my dad, and he got so mad that he not only called the GCPD commissioner at the time, but he also had the entire GCPD force and SWAT show up to the club, shut the entire place down, walk in, and drag these two— who were wildly drunk and half-naked— out in handcuffs."
By now, the entire room had erupted into laughter, and Meredith couldn't help but bask in the other billionaires' anger.
"Oh, and the best part?" she added. "It had caused such a scene that it had attracted nearly all of Gotham's media, and so there are pictures somewhere out there of this entire ordeal plastered on page six of magazines."
"Jesus!" Hal managed to get out in between his laughs. "And did they get in trouble?"
Meredith snickered. "Big time. Oliver's parents happened to be on a plane, and so my father contacted the captain of the flight and had him turn it around just to come back and yell at Oliver. Both of them were grounded for months— you should've seen Bruce's butler's face. It was terrifying."
The heroes were still roaring with laughter, and Meredith playfully rolled her eyes, beginning to walk out of the room. "Hope you enjoyed the story— see you all next week."
She had a feeling Bruce and Oliver were not going to live that one down for a while.
* * *
It had been a long time since Clark had laughed so hard— clutching his stomach while Barry nearly toppled into his shoulder, equally in tears.
Because that story was absolutely not what Clark— or probably anyone, for that matter— had been expecting, and the idea of drunk, naked Bruce being pulled out of a club in handcuffs by a full SWAT team was utterly hilarious.
The second the doors slid shut behind Meredith, the laughter in the room only seemed to increase tenfold as Bruce angrily stormed to the computer at the front.
"I-I'm sorry," Barry wheezed out. "I r-really shouldn't be laughing b-but I... I just..."
Clark finally found it in himself to stand up with some sort of composure, for Bruce's sake, if nothing else. He watched the figure dressed as Batman slowly melt away, taking the green form of J'onn J'onzz, otherwise known as Martian Manhunter. Bruce's paranoia had finally gotten the better of him and he'd asked the martian to step in for the evening— Clark was a little surprised it hadn't happened sooner.
J'onn eyed Bruce as the billionaire stomped past him.
"She is... more personable than the media says," the alien noted, a knowing smile gracing his features. J'onn didn't show facial expressions often, which said a lot about the current situation.
Oliver seemed to be taking it better than Bruce, simply rolling his eyes. "Yeah, Mare's such a jokester when she wants to be. But what the fuck, Hal?! We're doing this so she won't find out about our secret identities— you can't start asking questions about us!"
"Oh, please, Ollie. You know it was too good for me to resist! Plus, that story was fucking hilari—" Hal cut himself off into another round of chuckles.
Clark approached Bruce at the front, who looked severely out of place as he tapped around on the computer without his cape or ears.
"Bruce?"
"What."
"I just want you to know that I think no less of you."
While he was genuinely trying to comfort the man, Clark immediately regretted his choice of words as it made the entire room explode into laughter once more. Bruce spun around with the most bone-chilling look on his face, which was ironically more petrifying without the cowl than with it.
"Walk away from me now."
Clark opened his mouth but quickly closed it, simply nodding and turning away. However, he couldn't quite keep the smile off of his face as he studied his teammate's reactions, and especially Oliver's, who now, more or less, seemed to be chuckling along.
Every day, Clark started to like the Businesswoman of the Century more and more.
* * *
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Meredith watched the way the coffee finished splashing into the mug, barely letting it cool off before she pulled it out and twisted open a bottle of creamer— the three-dollar, run-of-the-mill, supermarket-shelf creamer that a woman as wealthy as Meredith Elias shouldn't be caught dead with, instead only drinking something mixed with Muscovado sugar or whatever the hell rich people were supposed to consume.
But right now she didn't have the patience for contemplating the price of carbohydrates per pound, she only could manage to focus on the way the white liquid swirled deep into the dark drink, dipping down to the bottom of the mug before creating a blossoming plume of spiraling brown hues along the surface.
It was her third... fourth? No... definitely the third cup of the night. Her heart was racing, hands shaking, and her hair was most likely frazzled. She didn't want to look at herself in the mirror.
She turned back around to her kitchen island— a grand slab of pearly-white granite from somewhere in Brazil.
The heat from the mug suddenly seared into her palm and she hissed, quickly setting it down on the counter before shaking her hand in pain.
Some of the coffee splattered out of the glass and onto one of the many pictures sprawled out across the surface. Meredith briefly forgot about her hand as she stared at the crime-scene-looking collage she had haphazardly been creating for the past few hours, and it was at that moment where she glanced down to her wobbling fingers and realized that maybe she was going a little crazy.
The papers featured pictures that citizens had sparingly managed to capture of the Dark Knight and then had the bravery to post online. Most were blurry splotches of black, but others were clearer, showing the man midair in some outrageous flip, cape flourishing dramatically behind him in a way that no human should ever be able to do.
Next to her on the floor were boxes she'd ripped from the back of her closet, with the few pieces of childhood memorabilia that she didn't leave at her parent's house. Inside an envelope, she'd found old, polaroid photos of a young Bruce Wayne— still looking as dashingly handsome as ever with his expensive suits and the mischievous, know-it-all grin he'd sported back then.
She slapped some of the pictures next to the images of Batman and stood back, studying them.
Meredith ran her hands through her hair.
There was a buzz at her elevator doors.
She walked over and pressed the button to answer the call. "Yes?"
A man's voice came over the speaker. "Lois Lane is here as you requested, Ms. Elias."
"Thank you, James." Meredith nodded although he couldn't see. "Send her up."
"Will do."
Meredith sighed, pulling her plum-colored, silk robe tighter around her body. She turned around towards the windows— her favorite feature in her uptown penthouse, which gave her the prettiest view of Gotham, built to selectively ignore the grittier parts of the city. From so high up, it looked almost like a place that didn't need the protection of Bruce Wayne in a costume.
Ding!
The elevator doors slid open quietly. Heels clicked on the floor as Lois entered the room.
"Wow, Mare," the reporter commented. "Quite the swanky joint you got here."
Meredith glanced at the woman with an amused brow raised. "I try."
"So, I assume the reason you have me driving across the bridge to Gotham at one in the morning and nearly getting my car broken into at a red light isn't just to have a glass of wine? Or, at least, I hope it's not, because no offense, but no alcohol is worth getting kidnapped."
"They probably wouldn't have kidnapped you," Meredith quipped. "Most likely would just steal your wallet and then kill you or something."
"Oh, wow." Lois barked out a sarcastic laugh, setting her coat down at the table near the door. "Because that's so much better."
Meredith glanced down at the floor briefly, wrapping her arms around herself. She looked back up to find the other woman staring at her curiously. "I have a problem."
"And you think I can help?"
"No."
Lois scrunched her brows.
"This is a problem that can't really be solved."
"Ohhh... is it about Batman?"
"Yes. And no. It's... about a lot of things."
"As much as I love the cryptic answers, and really I do, because that's quite literally my job, I can't really help you with no information."
"I..." Meredith stared at the woman again, contemplating what to do. She sighed in frustration. "I... I don't think I can tell you."
"Damn. That serious, huh?"
"It would probably be the biggest secret you've ever, and will ever hear in your entire life. And if you chose to report it, it could quite frankly end the entirety of Gotham City and most parts of the modern world."
There was silence.
"Can I still take you up on that wine?"
Meredith rolled her eyes but secretly appreciated the comedic relief. "Red or white?"
"How much am I gonna freak out once you tell me whatever this is about?"
"On a scale of one to ten?"
"Sure, let's go with that."
"Twelve."
"Red. An extra big glass."
Meredith gestured towards the kitchen, which was connected to the rest of the large living room. The glass lights above her counter illuminated the room in a warm glow. She opened one of the doors to her small wine cellar and pulled out a bottle of red.
"What's with all the old pictures?" She heard Lois comment from behind her. Meredith walked out, watching the reporter pick up one of the papers. "Aw, baby Bruce! What a handsome little guy, huh? Glad to know nothing's changed."
"Mhm," Meredith hummed, unimpressed, as she poured a glass of the red liquid.
"And what's with Batman?" Lois asked as she accepted the drink. "Oh, wait, I get it. Are you trying to decide which man to pick but you're too indecisive? Because I can definitely help with that."
Meredith crossed her arms. "No."
"Then what could I possibly be needing this large of a glass for at this time of night?"
The businesswoman stared at her in silence.
Lois took a slow sip before her eyes widened into saucers. "Oh my God."
"Wha—"
"Oh my God, you're pregnant with Bruce Wayne's baby, aren't you?"
Meredith's mouth fell slightly. "No."
"Oh." Lois was quiet for a moment before she gasped again. "Oh my God, you're pregnant with Batman's baby, aren't you?!"
"Lois! No!"
"Then I don't understand what the problem is!"
"The problem is that Bruce Wayne is Batman!" Meredith finally exploded, gritting through her teeth and gesturing her arms to the sides. "Okay?! That's the problem."
"Bruce— what?"
"Don't make me say it again."
"Bruce—" A chuckle poured from Lois' mouth.
The room fell into silence.
"Wait. I'm sorry— you're... you're actually trying to convince me that Bruce 'party boy of the century' Wayne, is that dark, twisted asshole?"
"I'm not trying to convince you of anything. I know he is. So either believe me or you don't."
"I just— I—" Lois scoffed and took a sip of her wine. "You should've let me get more drunk if you wanted me to fall for that, Mare."
Irritation simmered beneath Meredith's skin. "If you don't want to believe me then just leave."
Lois narrowed her eyes in suspicion, setting her glass down again. She leaned on the granite counter. "Are you genuinely being serious?"
"You think I want to believe that the man I've known since childhood is a crime-fighting vigilante?"
"There's— no. C'mon. There's no way! The identity of the Batman is probably debated at least twice a day in my office and you're telling me that I've literally talked to the man before? I mean, you've seen Batman, right? The gloom, the brood? No fancy suits or expensive whiskey in sight— and the shit that guy does every night? The flips and the fighting and the gadgets and the car? Bruce just... I mean he... no. I'm sorry. For once, you're wrong, Meredith."
"He kissed me. In my office. Full cape. Mask. Tights. The whole nine yards. I know it's him."
"He— Batman kissed you? When?!"
Meredith rolled her eyes. "That's really not import—"
"Why didn't you tell me?!"
"Last week, after Bruce's birthday."
"See! There's another reason he couldn't be Batman— Bruce was drunk off his ass Thursday night! How could he have thrown on his whole getup and flipped over to your office three bottles of champagne deep?"
"Bruce doesn't actually drink."
"Wha— of course he does! I see him do it all the time!"
"He fakes it. It's always ginger ale."
"You can't— this is ridiculous. You do hear yourself, right? Bruce Wayne is literally the most notoriously known alcoholic on the East Coast— and there's no way that Batman's a drunk!"
Meredith pinched the bridge of her nose with two fingers. "Think for just one minute, Lois. Realistically, who could be Batman? Who has the time, money, and resources to be him? Those are very rare things to come across in Gotham City— and to have all three?"
"That doesn't prove anyth—"
"Physically, he fits the description. Six-foot-however-tall, white man, muscles like a professional bodybuilder. He has all the time in the world, too. He doesn't need to worry about paying bills, making money, feeding himself— he can just focus on his body and his mind and being a vigilante."
"There are a lot of six-something white men in Gotham, Mered—"
"Who the hell would have the money to do what he does? The car alone is billions— who else is able to just casually throw that around?"
"There are a lot of billionaires on the East Coas—"
"He's the CEO of arguably the biggest conglomerate in the world with one of the best weapons divisions, forefront technological innovation, and renowned scientists— perfect for a man who needs unfathomable gadgets to fight criminals every night."
Lois was silent.
"I went to visit Wayne Enterprises Tower over the weekend— I've known his head scientist, Lucius Fox, since I was young. He took me down to the labs— I saw all of the Bat paraphernalia, Lois. With my own eyes. Billions of dollars in tech and suits and cars and weapons are stored there, and not a single person would ever guess."
Meredith picked up her coffee again, which had now cooled down. "That's why I've always hated Bruce— I know he's smart. He's always been. And night after night I watch him lie to the public, fooling them into thinking he's some idiotic playboy billionaire and nothing more— because who would believe that's the same person who parades around as the most famous masked vigilante in the world? It's the perfect cover-up."
"I..." Lois had a dead-stare at her wine. "I guess... now that I think about it, I've... I've never seen Batman and Bruce Wayne in the same room..."
"Because they're the same person," Meredith finished.
Lois' eyes snapped up to meet hers.
"Holy shit."
Meredith nodded.
"Bruce Wayne is Batman."
The billionaire nodded again.
Silence.
"You kissed Bruce Wayne!"
"Oh my God."
"And... and the man we've been talking about for the last few weeks is Bruce!"
"Unfortunately."
"And—! Wait, who the hell does that make the Robins?"
The world stopped. It came to a complete, utterly grinding halt because that was a question Meredith hadn't yet considered. The reporter stared at her with wide eyes, undoubtedly mirroring the look on Meredith's face.
"I..."
Who were the Robins?
"His kids," Lois whispered the answer Meredith hoped it wouldn't be.
His kids.
Damian. Tim. Dick.
Children that she'd met— children that worked for her. Children.
Children.
Bruce Wayne was an absolute madman.
"Meredith, are you oka—?"
"I am going to ruin that man," Meredith seethed, slamming the mug onto the counter and stalking back into the living room.
"Wh—"
The businesswoman spun around, clutching her robe. "They are children, Lois! Kids! One of them works for me! Tim isn't even eighteen— and holy shit, forget about him— I've met with Damian before, and he's eleven! Eleven years old— not even a teenager— and Bruce lets him go fight the crime in Gotham City?! An eleven-year-old boy, that's who protects us in the war on drugs?! That's who fights the Joker?! He's lost his mind. Absolutely lost his mind! Someone... someone should call CPS! Someone... I'm telling my father—!"
"Meredith!"
The billionaire paused.
Lois was giving her a look that said you're definitely losing it.
"I'm going crazy," Meredith's voice was shaky as she sat down on the plush, white couch in the middle of the room. She clutched her hands together to stop them from trembling. "I'm threatening to tell on a grown man to my father at thirty-nine years old and I'm tearing out images of a guy dressed as a bat from newspapers at one in the morning and—'' Meredith rested her head in her hand. "I was rude to Clark at the meeting today and he didn't deserve that, he was just trying to ask me how my day was and I told him to call me Ms. Elias—"
"What— what meeting?"
Meredith sat up with a huff. "The League meeting."
"Why was Clark at the League meeting?"
"What's with all the obvious questions today, Lois?" The billionaire stood up and cracked her back, beginning to walk back into the kitchen. "Why wouldn't he be?"
"Well, I just don't—"
She rolled her eyes and picked up her coffee mug once again. "It's the Justice League meeting, Lo. Of course Superman is going to be th—"
Meredith froze, the drink only halfway to her lips.
"What are you saying?"
The billionaire sipped her drink.
Lois slowly walked in front of her and crossed her arms. "What are you trying to say, Meredith?"
"I, uh..."
"Meredith?"
Fuck.
"What do you think I'm trying to say?"
Lois narrowed her eyes. "Well, it sounds like you said Clark was at the meeting, and then told me 'why wouldn't he be there, because Superman always is.'"
"That's... definitely what I said."
"So..." Lois laughed slightly. "What? You're telling me that Bruce Wayne is Batman and Clark is Superman?"
Silence.
Meredith thought very carefully about what to say next. "Your words, not mine."
"Wha—?"
The reporter's voice trailed off, and she got a very spacey look on her face, tilting her gaze down at her drink.
Maybe she wouldn't actually figure it out and just laugh it off like she did about Batman—
Lois gasped.
The wine glass shattered on her floor.
Or not.
Meredith cringed, trying to keep her white slippers from getting stained in red liquid as the reporter started screaming.
She should probably stop telling Lois secrets.
* * *
Hello again everyone! Here's the second chapter, as promised. I may not get a chance to post before the end of 2021, so if I don't, have a happy holidays and a great start to your 2022! Thank you all for 56k and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far :)
xo Alexa