From: Philippa Chapman (Glastonbury, Somerset, UK.) Date: Wed 17 Sep 1997 22:00 +0100 Subject: Batleap, Part 4. 'Doing the batty bat...' The Count, Sesame Street. "Well," Al continued,"It's damned dark in here. You could use a flashlight." "I wish we *did* have a flashlight." Sam felt Batwoman shrug. "Sorry, mine's gone. Somebody searched me and took it away." "Ooooh, I wonder where she kept.... Sorry, Sam. Anyway, my handlink isn't strong enough for me to see what's up ahead, and those laser light lines that Ziggy's produced in the past wouldn't cut any ice at all. I'll see what I can do and get back to you as soon as I can. Just hold on in there and don't do anything I wouldn't do...." He grinned broadly and vanished. "We'll just have to do our best without light, then." Sam and Batwoman recommenced inching slowly forward. They came to a steep upwards slope. Sam began to crawl up it, but the incline was too sheer and he kept slipping backwards. Batwoman tapped his shoulder. "Will *this* help?" Sam felt a thin cable with several curved metal things at one end. "What is this? Oh; it's got a sort of grappling hook arrangement. The trick's going to be getting it to fasten on anything useful in this darkness. How did you manage to secrete *that* ?" Batwoman chuckled. "You don't want to know. Haven't you got any of your secret weapons stashed away from prying eyes?" Sam was glad Al had missed that particular question. He hung on to the line while he checked all the secret compartments and pockets one-handed. He found the dart-gun, his handkerchief, one kung-fu star and a packet of mints. Sam smiled ruefully and offered one to Batwoman. His hand brushed her cheek below the mask, then her lips closed around his finger and thumb. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the jolt of awareness and pleasure that shot up his arm. He managed to feed a mint to himself with the same fingers. Sam concentrated stoically on getting the line up the slope. The line kept hitting a wooden surface then skittering back down. Batwoman had a few turns herself, but with similar luck. They co-ordinated their efforts and on the third try, the line caught and held. Sam let Batwoman go first this time and waited until she called down from the top. It didn't sound that far, maybe thirty feet, but not pleasant to fall down. Sam braced against the floor, finding the ceiling brushing his back. After several minutes, Sam reached the top. He located the hooks, unfastened them from the slanting joist where it had landed, then handed the whole lot back to Batwoman. After a brief rest, they pressed on, crawling slowly but easily. Up ahead, Sam heard an odd metallic whirring noise. Batwoman had heard it too. "What's that?" "I don't know, but it doesn't sound good." "I'll go and see..." She crawled away. Suddenly Sam remembered his father's barn and knew exactly what that noise was. "Hey! No! STOP!" He launched himself forwards and took her down in a tackle. "Ow.....!!" "Sorry. It's a buzz-saw..." Batwoman froze, then began to tremble. "Oh, God! I nearly touched it..." Sam folded her in his arms instinctively. "It's okay. I know." After a few moments, she was composed and broke away gently. They sat together silently. "I can feel the draught coming off it." "It'll be moving fast, then." "Mmmm, backwards and forwards across the passage." "And razor sharp....we must assume that it is deadly." "You probably saved my life. Thank-you, Batman." "That's okay. The question is now either how to disable it or to turn back." "We might try the grappling irons. They *could* snarl up the works." "No. We might be glad of that wire in the future. I've got a kung-fu star that's specially reinforced." "So have I! The two together *might* just do it.." Sam's mouth went into a thin line. "I don't fancy the prospect of getting close enough to use the things in the saw's track." Eventually they both knew that they had to give it a try. Sam wet his fingers and counted. "It takes fifteen seconds to roll completely from one side to the other. On the left of the tunnel, there's a good five seconds of draught. Timing this is everything." "I know." Sam placed his left hand over Batwoman's and they placed the two stars in her palm. "Ready?" "As ready as I'll ever be. One, two three.....Now!" They planted the stars and whisked their hands away. Sam felt something just beyond his fingers, then there was a loud crunching and grinding noise, followed by silence. Sam reached out very gingerly. "We stopped it! It's stuck fast on the left hand side." Sam travelled over to the right. He reached through the gap and found a button. Realising that this could maim him if he got it wrong, he pressed it anyway, bracing himself for the worst consequences. To his eternal relief, the saw dropped through the floor. Sam and Batwoman fairly scooted over the narrow trench. Sam's hand encountered a switch. Light flooded the wooden corridor from a series of bulbs, making him blink. He turned towards Batwoman, whose face was pale and streaked with dirt, but she was otherwise unharmed. She saw what Sam had done. "You could have had your arm chopped off!!" "My reasoning was that someone must have set that saw going. It made sense for the on/off switch to be *this* side. It also explains the light switch. You couldn't set that thing up in pitch darkness." "Okay, but next time, warn me please. I'm the one who'd have to pick up the pieces." Batwoman and Sam carried on much faster under the lights until they came to a 'T' junction. Sam peered to the left and Batwoman the right. Both options looked the same, apparently going maybe thirty feet before they both bent round in the direction of the main corridor. "Some choice, huh?" Sam wished that Al was there. "Okay... You check your way, I'll check mine, then we'll make our choice." He watched Batwoman crawl away. As he glanced around the far corner, two metallic grabs shot out of the wall and caught his arms. As he cried out, a noose came from the ceiling and snared his neck. Sam began to choke. He tried to relax and not struggle, but the noose got tighter and tighter. The lack of air started to make spots appear before his eyes. Suddenly Batwoman was there. She carefully attacked the rope with one of the metal claws of the grappling hook. Sam felt the metal at his throat and tried not to flinch. Batwoman worked as quickly and efficiently as she could, all the while saying soothing things to Sam. He felt so dizzy that he was sure that he must pass out soon. There was a sharp pain in his neck under the claw and breath was sucked in past his bruised throat into his grateful lungs. As he continued to breathe deeply, temporarily unable to speak, Batwoman examined the metal rings and chains fastening onto his arms. "This looks tricky. These appear to be self-locking. I'll do my best." Sam found his voice, which came out huskily. "You've already saved my life...." Batwoman smiled. "Then we're even, Batman." Sam smiled back and their eyes locked for several seconds. Batwoman came close to help him and Sam tried to ignore his increased masculine interest and the desire to kiss her. After ten minutes of examining, fiddling and manipulating, the cuffs were prised away from the metal chains that held them. Sam rubbed his arms and looked more closely at the metal still encircling his wrists. "I'm sorry, Batman. If I had all my tools, I could probably deal with those metal hinges." Sam nodded. "Yes, me too. They're not too tight or heavy. I can put up with the temporary discomfort. Thanks." "Any time." Their eyes locked again and Sam felt a fresh surge of mutual attraction. He started to reach out towards her, but her face suddenly became shuttered. He took a steadying breath and they moved on. After another half hour of crawling, sliding or climbing, with occasional visits from Al, they finished the packet of mints as they took a rest. "How big *is* this maze?" Sam considered. "Well, I have a photographic memory. We haven't covered the same part more than once. It's on several layers; the whole thing could be constructed in several large warehouses or an aircraft hanger or something like that. We haven't encountered anything quite as dangerous as those blades again. My hunch is that if we keep going, we *will* reach The Riddler." "We should keep on the alert, though." "Yes. I hope it doesn't go on for many hours longer, otherwise we'll face certain undeniable physical needs and *those* would be.....embarrassing to deal with in this environment." After a while, the floor began to slope gently upwards. It was so subtle an incline that neither Sam nor Batwoman noticed it for some time. The climb became steeper, but not enough to need Batwoman's wire and grapples. They reached the top, panting. Suddenly the floor gave way beneath them and they plunged together down a smooth plastic tube. They landed in a heap at the bottom on thick cushioning. The walls of the small rectangular chamber moved, pushing them closer together, then the roof descended. "Is he planning to crush us to death?" Sam covered Batwoman's body protectively with his own. He looked into her eyes as they were manipulated closer. "If I have to die, I can't think of nicer company...." His lips met hers eloquently in the semi-darkness. Her arms and mouth encouraged him closer. They both moaned, caught between the pleasure of such close contact and the danger of their situation. Sam folded her closer in his arms and her legs wound around him until they were as closely entwined as they could be in their body armor. They kissed on, completely oblivious now to anything but each other. "Sam! Oooh, Sam! Hey....not that I blame you, but now's not the time nor the place... Ahem; forgive me for mentioning the blindingly obvious, but you'll find you need to take some clothes *off* if you're about to....erm....indulge. Or perhaps this is just a really intense necking session.... Sam, kid; you're really going to get your glasses steamed up in a minute... HEY! Where did they go? That was a rotten trick, pulling the floor out on them at a time like that! He could use a break; it's been *ages* and he's been a good boy." This last sentence was delivered to the ceiling. Al sighed and relocated himself to Sam's vicinity with his handlink. He was standing upright and there was something cold against his back. Sam took a breath and began to try to move, then he felt the ropes holding him in place. Sam opened his eyes. Firelight and dark shadows. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. "Sam? Are you okay?" Sam opened his eyes and saw Al, dressed in a green suit and gold waistcoat. His tie was gold with lime green random patterning. "Yes; as fine as one can be trussed up like this. Where's Batwoman?" Al gestured over to his right and Sam's left. She was fastened similarly to Sam and not moving. "Is she okay?" Al checked. "Still unconscious, but breathing." Sam nodded slowly. He took in his surroundings. A mantlepiece faced him, with a real fire, but the resonances of the space he was in were too big for such domesticity. Apart from that, the room - or whatever it was - was dark, with a concrete floor. Batwoman moaned. Al turned his face away, grinning, reluctant to let Sam see that he'd witnessed their earlier sensual entangling. A voice cut through Al's musings. "Ahh, the two *lovebirds* are awake. Time to play....." The voice was sing-song and menacing. Al bristled defensively. A rope descended from somewhere above and The Riddler came sliding down. He was still wearing the leotard covered in question marks and a clown mask. "Welcome, both of you. Now, Batman, you've got very *close* to Batwoman. I wonder if you'd be so keen if you knew her true identity." "I *do* know it." The Riddler came closer and flourished a Punch's head under Sam's nose. A knife blade flicked out and Sam flinched. The Riddler moved over to Batwoman. "Daddy's little girl has really grown up. You were beautiful then, but you're stunning *now*." Batwoman held herself tall. "How do you know what I was like?" "Ah, precious. Many's the time I bounced you on my knee." The Riddler came nose to nose with Batwoman and she grabbed his mask with her teeth. "Attagirl! This babe's got guts, Sam." Sam was quietly working on the knots in the rope around his wrists. As The Riddler pulled back, the string on the mask broke and Sam got his wrists free. Batwoman gasped. "Uncle Cedric! Dear God, how could you?" Sam boggled. "You never laughed at my jokes; not *one* of you!" Batwoman's cheeks were streaked with tears. "You had a career as professor in Camford University. If it hadn't been for your love of practical jokes, you might have made Chancellor. You could have been great. It was you who awakened my love of antiquities, you who recognised that I had the 'touch'." The Riddler sneered. "Your *boyfriend* doesn't seem that keen any more - unlike earlier." Sam got angry. "You were *watching*?" Sam and Batwoman spoke together. "He wasn't the only one." Al muttered, sotto voce. "He's only ever seen you behind that mask, hasn't he?" Batwoman flinched. "Ahhh, found your weak spot, haven't I? Why don't I cut off that mask so that he can see you as you really are?" The Riddler brought his knife close to Batwoman's face. Sam continued to work on his knots as fast and as surreptitiously as he could. The Riddler put the knife slowly under Batwoman's mask and began to slice at the leather. Sam re-doubled his efforts. Batwoman tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. The knife cut her cheek and blood dripped slowly down onto her armor. Sam roared with anger and broke free. He jumped The Riddler and the two men rolled on the floor. Sam knocked the smaller man out, then freed Batwoman. "It's not deep. Here...." Sam ripped off a piece of The Riddler's costume and gave it to her, then he slung the unconscious man over his shoulder and they left the building. They left The Riddler and his headquarters' address in the capable hands of the police and made their way back to the square and the Batmobile. Al checked his handlink. "You've done it for The Riddler. He gets the psychiatric care he needs and his henchmen get five years. You just need to smooth things over with Barbara." Sam had already thought about that. He turned towards Batwoman. "That cut needs attention. Come with me?" "Where?" Sam smiled warmly. "You'll see......Barbara." Sam drove back towards Wayne mansion, stopping before his destination became clear. "I've found out some of who you are and I still like what I know. We got too close in the maze for anything to rock the trust and affection between us. I think it's time you knew the man behind the mask - and I found out about you. I have the feeling we'll be working together more often." Al spluttered from behind the passenger seat. "Nice guess, Sam! These two *are* going to work together; once they've both come out from behind their masks. Oh, very funny, Ziggy!" The car approached their ultimate destination. "Wayne Manor! *You're* Bruce Wayne! So much for the indolent, playboy image!" Sam chuckled. "Well, now you know what I really do in the evenings!" Al cleared his throat. "Not always.....there have been *some* women, too. He's just picky - like you." Sam parked the Batmobile. Alfred was there, only his eyes betraying his concern. "Glad to have you home, sir. Batwoman; pleased to make your acquaintance, Ma'am." "I think we both need a good hot shower, then Batwoman's face..." "Yes, of course. This way, Ma'am." Al chuckled. "He's crusty as hell, but I kinda like the guy." Sam's mouth quirked in amusement. "Sounds like somebody I know!" Sam got through his shower, put on a casual jog suit which had a designer label and went in search of Alfred and Barbara. Al guided him to the guest suite. Alfred was standing in the small en-suite bathroom, his back to the door, ministering to Barbara's face. Sam took a deep breath. "Here, let me finish that," he offered. Alfred turned around and got out of the way. Barbara turned to face Sam. He gasped. So did Al. "You!" Sam managed, "It was you all along!" Her mouth dimpled into an apologetic smile. Navy blue eyes locked with his. "I needed to get my job at the museum on merit, not just because I was the mayor's daughter..." Sam tried to find the words to express his delight that she was actually incredibly close to perfection, then realised it might come out like a put-down and stopped. As she stood up, brushing her towelling robe nervously, Sam realised something else. "The delicious brunette at the masked ball!" Al boggled. "What on Earth have you been up to, Sam?!" Barbara blushed. "Senor Zorro? That was *you*?" Sam's delighted smile grew wider. "So, are you Jean or Barbara?" "Actually, it's Barbara Jean Gordon." Sam moved in closer and gently finished Alfred's task, aware as never before of the incredible undercurrent of attraction between them. Adrenalin buzzed inside him as he accepted the fact that he had kissed Barbara under the illusion that she was three different women. He realised that the knowledge that he had failed his own earlier rash declaration didn't bother him one bit. In fact, he was pleased. "I would like to know all there is to know about the lady in the mask." She gazed into his eyes. "I already like what I know about you..." Sam cut her short with the kiss he'd been planning for the last few minutes. "That's it, Sam! You don't need *me* to tell you that everything works out just fine..... Ah, there you go....." Sam opened his eyes. His surroundings were white and he felt safe. Al grinned down at him. "You did it again, kid! Bruce got all your memories more or less intact, and he and Barbara......*cemented* their alliance about an hour after you leapt out." Sam grimaced inspite of himself. "I wanted to....very much." Al grinned. "So did she, Sam. It worked both ways." Then Al clasped Sam's arm and he shouted in surprise. He sat up and pulled Al into a bear-hug. He looked around him properly. "I'm *home*?" Al gave him a strange look. "Where else would you be, now that the leap's over?" Sam felt new memories flooding his mind. "Sorry.....the holes in my mind are obviously bigger than usual......" "That's okay. I'll leave you now - when you're finished ..... ahem .... readjusting, I'll see you again. The monitors are off." Sam sat in his fermi suit, trying to fight through the fog in his mind. Images came to him....the business-like female architect and computer engineer that Al had produced to help build the complex....the way she'd never imposed, reading his broken heart after Donna......their marriage....then the mutual surprise when their minds as well as their bodies had become one....the deep spiritual and psychic link between them....the way they knew what the other one was thinking. Sam boggled. The wife that part of Sam had never known came into the room. Sam grinned. "Bonnie Jean...." Now he knew why Barbara had been so tempting. She had been almost the double of his wife. But Jean was subtly more stunning, more beautiful to Sam's eyes. She was wearing an anonymous lab coat and her hair was pinned up. She smiled, almost shyly, then ran into his arms. Sam kissed her deeply. He heard her soft laugh in his mind. Sam removed his eager lips from hers and gently unpinned her hair. He realised that Al had been wrong. There was one woman at least with whom he felt secure enough to indulge in role-play from time to time. He tugged playfully at her lab-coat. "So what sort of welcome home have you got for me *this* time?" Her eyes twinkled. "The tried and trusted formula, Sam, darling." She unbuttoned the coat and Sam's blood pressure rose dramatically. He pulled her onto the bed with him and began to kiss her passionately, his hands full of warm, willing woman. Her hands were pretty busy, too. Sam growled with pleasure. Then he leaped.