eddie likes to (riddlethem) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-08-04 20:42:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | catwoman, door: dc comics, riddler |
Who: Riddler and Catwoman
When: Around the time Kara was in prison
Where: Gotham warehouse district
What: Stealin Mrs. Freeze
Warnings: Violence
Eddie and Frank popped up behind the rooftop barrier, binoculars in hands and elbows perched on top like spy versions of Linus and Charlie Brown at their favorite philosophical brickwall. Eddie was in true Riddler form. The hat, the green with question marks, the violet glasses, the black shirt with a purple tie and Muerte’s Ankh clipped to it. Frank wasn’t wearing any bright green like a good right-hand henchman because he said it made him look gay. Years ago, Eddie might have forced him to wear a ridiculous outfit out of spite, but now he was a man of compromise. Black with jeans and beanie worked just fine. Even a suit. Frank liked suits, too.
“See, that’s the problem with modern science. You can put a girl in a block of ice like a fucking fish for years and years instead of let her die.” Frank said, binoculars pressed to his eyes as he counted the guards.
“My thoughts exactly, Frank.” Eddie agreed, taking notes on what weapons the henchmen had.
“I mean if my old lady came down with somethin’ real bad and the doc said look you can put her on ice for a couple fucking decades but we can’t promise nothing?” Frank lifted two, then three fingers up indicating power outlets. Eddie nodded. “I mean at some point you’re going to want to get your dick wet with a healthy, alive woman.”
“Except our friend Freeze fell into a tank of otter pop juice, so theor-”
“Does his dick even work? Have you ever asked him?” Frank lowered his binoculars and turned towards Eddie. The two men exchanged grave looks.
“Would you seriously ask a guy with a freeze ray a question about how well his manhood worked?” Eddie quirked an eyebrow and Frank laughed hoarsely. “I don’t think she’s ever going to escape her ice prison and I also don’t think Freeze actually cares.” Eddie clicked something on his glasses, head tilted down as he investigated different floorplans. “He just wants his snowglobe back.”
Frank grunted in disapproval. He knew what a trophy looked like. Been around enough serial killers and crazy people to know the difference between loving someone and refusing to let their pretty face go. Eddie acknowledged the grunt and simply shook his head. No, they were not going to put her out of her misery. It wasn’t worth a lifetime of relentless frozen revenge.
Both men were from the wrong side of the tracks, having served plenty of time in their respective prisons (Eddie in Arkham and Frank in Black Gate), and both men wanted to stray from typical Gotham crime. Frank had a family, a kid that still coughed sometimes from coming down with the plague months ago. The whole thing had put perspective on his life in Gotham and while Eddie’s reformation made the rest of his paid employees ditch for bigger scores, Frank stuck around. After all, it wasn’t like Eddie didn’t make life interesting even after going semi-legit.
“Alright, Frank.” Eddie confirmed a few more details and then handed Frank his binoculars. “You get set up for Plan B. I’m going in.” The riddled man grinned and grabbed his cane, jumping off the side of the roof onto a catwalk that he scaled down with the grace of a magician. He wasn’t a cat or a bat, but everyone who was anyone in Gotham taught themselves how to get up and down buildings real fast. With an oof as he hit the ground, Riddler straightened his tie and strolled towards the warehouse that they were spying on. He punched a code into the sidedoor, swung it open and with a tink of his cane against the smooth concrete floor, made his presence known.
In the middle of the warehouse, there were two men with their own sets of bodyguards right in the heat of negotiation. One was a high ranking family member of the Falcone mob and the other was a black market buyer. Eddie feared neither of them. “Hello, gentlemen.” The green man rolled his cane across his shoulders, spun it at his side and then walked casually towards the two men.
“What the fuck!” The Falcone yelled, leveling a gun at Riddler.
“Now, now. I warned you I’d be here. Didn’t you both receive my ridd-”
“Dude, I threw them away.” Black Market interrupted rudely. Clearly not a man from Gotham.
“Seriously?”
“Me, too, Nigma.” The Falcone didn’t move his gun away from Eddie’s head.
“Are you kidding me?” Eddie threw his hands up. “Well, if you had used your primitive caveman minds and attempted one or two of the riddles I sent you, then you’d have an advantage to the game we’re about to play.” The riddled man slid in closer, hand raised like he was telling the two a secret. “See, a good number of the guys in here owe little old me a favor. Those riddles, the ones you threw away, detailed which one of them they are. But, since you’re a couple of baboons, the advantage goes completely to me! Shoot one tiny bullet into my impressive brain and this place is going to look like a butcher shop. Understand?”
“You’re bluffing.” Black Market laughed with a roll of his eyes. Eddie squinted furiously. Tourists were the worst.
“No, he’s not.” Falcone gave another large sigh like he would do anything to get out of this crazy town. “What do you want?”
“The ice princess. Hand her over and I won’t even tell Freeze you’re the bozos who have been selling her for used parts.” Eddie smiled brightly, leaning on his cane as the two men considered their options.
The kitty cat wasn't really all that concerned with Mrs. Freezerburn.
She had other things to worry about these days, like, say, the fact that Oliver Queen was about to end her up on the wrong side of some very unfortunate tracks if she wasn't careful.
Oh, the kitty cat hadn't actually chosen to sign on the JLA's dotted line. It had been an ultimatum, blackmail, pure and simple. And, at the time, it didn't seem like such a bad idea to get on the wrong side of the Bat. Sidling up to Stevie had seemed like as good a way as any to ruffle the Bat's wings, and Stevie was all sad puppy over Diana. Perfect win for the kitty cat, who knew what it was like to be told no. And she trusted Stevie when he'd said she would get to walk away, clean slate and no Suicide Squad hanging over her kitty head. But then things had gotten complicated, and as soon as the JLA - under Ollie's new reign - had decided to sacrifice her to Arkham for the greater good, the game had changed. She'd gone from secret member of the JLA to JLA "fugitive," which boiled down to becoming JLA bait. And there wasn't a J'onn here to keep her out of the worst of it. No, here she had to play the little game, and she trusted this Oliver Queen even less than she'd trusted her own.
Men with principles werethe worst.
She understood where Ollie was coming from, and in her world the balance of power was too heavily tilted in favor of a Supes who didn't have a little reporter to make him love humanity. But seeing the reason behind the agenda didn't mean she thought they'd succeed. Unless they managed to get enough Kryptonian DNA to make something happen? Well, there was going to be hell to pay. And the kitty cat liked to be as far away from that kind of hell as possible.
Which explained why, despite her disinterest, she was perched on a beam high in the warehouse ceiling, listening to the distant sound of the two men below negotiating. Freeze's reward would give her a nice little nest egg, should things fall apart with the JLA. She'd blown through all of her money, and even the Wayne Tower penthouse was going to need to be abandoned soon, unless she replenished the bank.
Enter the popsicle wife.
No, strike that; enter the man in green.
Selina sighed. Didn't Eddie have better things to worry about?
Well, no time to dawdle.
The kitty cat dropped down, no net and only acrobatic grace as she swung her whip against a counter-beam, slowing her decent enough to land soundly behind the henchmen on two very high, very black heeled shoes.
She was dressed in her standard black, visor down and a smile on her lush red lips. "Eddie, you aren't getting in the way of a girl's fun, are you?" she purred, and she had a gun in each hand by the time the henchmen turned around. "Tsk, tsk, boys."
Eddie figured he had this in the bag. The idiots didn’t even read his riddles and the guards above with their guns were already arguing with each other about which side they were all on. It was organized chaos. A plan set in motion to produce a game with rules that no one wanted to play with him anymore. Well, that was fine. Eddie liked easy wins from complete morons. His attention was away from Falcone and Black Market, giving an aloof, powerful green confidence that was so rogue gallery he should have earned an achievement for it. Nothing could possibly, possibly go wrong, right?
He cocked his head to the side when he heard the familiar tap of heels and he rolled his dark eyes from behind his violet glasses as he slowly took out his pearl handled revolver and pointed it in her general direction. The Falcone asked if Catwoman was with him and there arose a moral dilemma. Eddie didn’t need the money. He’d like the money, but he didn’t need it like the Cat did for a fallback. The easy way would be to say yes the Cat was with him for some extra muscle, cut a deal with her later and everyone went home moderately happy. But, Eddie was feeling the stress from the JLA, too, and god damn it he wanted to have some old fashioned fun.
Eddie gave the Cat a look of mischievousness over the shoulders of the two thugs, his way of saying this was their game now instead of these two bozos. “No, she’s not. And, before you light this place up with gunfire I’d like to make it a little more interesting.”
“This city is a fucking freakshow!” Black Market yelled, which made Riddler’s eyes glint with a touch of madness. The man in green took out a little, harmless looking metal box that started beeping ominously. “You blockheads ever hear of a dead zone before?” He asked, pushing a button with his thumb to make the little box give a distorted beep and suddenly all the lights, electricity and electronics went completely dead. Riddler took off his bright green coat and tossed it to his left, which was immediately shot at in the dim light as he dodged to the other side of the warehouse into the darkness. There was a buzz and the sound of a few of the guards equipping night vision goggles. The only people who could see in the blacked out warehouse or use any of their electronics were people who worked for Riddler.
And, that’s when gunfire started to ring out.
"Now, Eddie, it's not nice to point a gun at a lady," the kitty cat purred, adrenaline in her veins and her smile going even more pleased. Reward money and some fun? The night was getting better already.
She thought she saw a hint of madness behind those purple lenses, and she wasn't surprised. After all, this little mess with the JLA was going to inconvenience him every bit as much as it was going to inconvenience her. Well, almost. She was pretty sure his little blonde bat would, given time, forgive him anything. She didn't have that same luxury with Mr. Tall, Dark and Brooding. But there would be plenty of time to lick those wounds later. After all, it wasn't like they were going to heal anytime soon.
Right then, the harmless little box in Eddie's hands (which she was sure wasn't harmless at all) was the only real concern. Would he blow them up? No, the kitty cat didn't think he'd gone that mad, and she'd figured they were about to go dark before he even mentioned it. Fingers to the side of her visor, and the night vision goggles slid into place. Now, they weren't as good as whatever Eddie had equipped his little friends with, but that hardly mattered. The kitty cat was very, very good in dark spaces.
She went down and low when the bullets rang out, almost disappointed that their entertainment for the night actually wasted ammunition on the jacket. Amateurs, and she was on her feet before the last bullet rung out. "Didn't anyone tell you not to breathe through your mouth," purred into the ear of Falcone's man, who she reached without making a sound, even on the sharp heels. "It gives you away in the dark." Her whip snapped, and she had a new little gun to tuck into her thigh holsters. She risked a shot, high, against where memory told her a beam was, just to hear the ricochet and get a better sense of location.
Ding and ding and ding, and she climbed Falcone's man like a ladder and used him to get height. She brought a gun butt down against his temple, and then she swung up to a beam high in the warehouse's rafters. Now, if she was hiding a popsicle in a little warehouse, where would she stash her? The kitty cat wasn't above letting Eddie worry about the riffraff on the ground. After all, this particular prize was on ice.
Eddie was running through the darkness. Bullets flying, men screaming at each other, Selina’s whip singing in the distance. This was Gotham music at its finest. A tune that had been playing in the back of his head since he started wearing question marks. His violet glasses were green now to match the night vision goggles and he said a silent prayer that his goons were waiting for him outside. He had a Plan B. He always thought of everything.
Unlike Selina, he knew exactly where the ice queen was being held. Her high tech tank freaked the men out, so they kept her in a warehouse that could hold cuts of meat in a large freezer. If her glass bowl broke, they could keep her alive long enough to decide whether to kill her and sell her or try to find someone who could fix it. Predictable and like every Gotham building, easy to blow up. Eddie took his glasses off as he pushed the door open, his gun in it’s holster and his purple tie flapping against his black shirt a little in the harbor wind. He inhaled.
“Jeremy. Anne.” Eddie greated two of his goons waiting for him by the door. Both armed to the teeth with protective gear on.
“Where’s the explosives?” Anne asked and Eddie stepped forward, wordlessly ripping through Jeremy’s coat to take out a couple large packs of C4. Jeremy’s eyes went wide and he staggered back.
“You put that in my bullet proo-”
“You’re fine, Jeremy. And, in a way it is bullet proof. The C4 explosion would kill you before the bullet would.” Eddie slapped the goon’s face sweetly and worked on setting up the explosives so quickly and efficiently it looked like he had done it a thousand times before. And, really, he had. “There’s a cat in there. I want you to distract her until Frank gets here with a truck.”
“A cat?” Anne looked alarmed. Eddie waved his hand dismissively.
“A couple scratches will give you character. Think of it as a badge of honor. Join me behind that building over there.” He backed up on his heels, signalling the two to follow him behind a protective corner and then popped a compartment on his cane open. “What’s round as a ring, has two eyes but can’t see a thing?” Eddie asked them, looking between Jeremy and Anne with eyebrows high.
“....A button?” Anne blinked.
“Good job.” Eddie grinned. “You earned the honor of pushing it.” He tilted his cane to reveal a big, red button on the side and Anne, despite herself, smiled. Say what you wanted about Gotham rogues, at least they knew how to have fun.
With a BOOM the wall of the warehouse blasted open to reveal the large meat locker. Eddie strolled through the rubble and then pointed his cane through the darkness as Frank and his truck pulled up. “Go bag me a cat.”
The Cat in question was following footsteps that she was counting on belonging to one little man in green. Of course, without the jacket it was hard to tell, but she was fast, and she stayed on him, whip hiss and whip hiss, beam to beam, and not paying the slightest bit of attention to the ricochet of bullets against the walls and floor. That was the thing about having a very well defined deathwish; it meant the kitty cat didn't hesitate in order to save her own hide. It kept her ahead of the fighting, and it kept her on the tail of the little man down below.
Outside, it would be easier to keep on his tail. Gotham-born or not, Eddie didn't have her facility of movement, and she was silently above him as he reached that warehouse door. Purple tie visible in the dreary Gotham moonlight. Always so ostentatious, Edward.
She dropped as the door closed behind him, letting the door snick deceptively, and then cracking it right back open without even a creak. She was low, at foot level, listening through a crack the size of a sliver, but that was all she needed. A quick peek told her all she needed to know about how serious Eddie was about this game; the protective gear his little minions wore were built for things that went boom, and the kitty cat took a moment to consider whether or not this was really worth the payoff. Oh, she had no doubt that she could take his men, but chances were very, very good that he already had something in mind to drive little miss ice pop away, and that meant the kitty cat would need to steal the transport method too. And putting a dent in Eddie wouldn't win her any favors with little bonde bats and their family members.
She watched Eddie fuss with the explosives, and she almost felt a twinge at his easy command that his little people should distract her. But this was Gotham, and she knew better than anyone that no one could actually trust anyone in Gotham.
She smiled a little at the woman's look of alarm at the prospect of a few scratches, and she slid out and scaled up when Eddie sought cover. The kitty cat knew all about buttons.
Unfortunately, getting clear of that BOOM meant she couldn't hear whatever else transpired between Eddie and his little lemmings, but the kitty cat already had everything she needed to know. She watched the truck pull up, and she watched the minions span out, and then she dropped on top of Eddie from overhead. No warning, no concern for Frank and his truck, no concern for the trophy wife on ice.
So, maybe the kitty cat's priorities were a little skewed, but she was in a mood. She put her full weight into the fall, heels aimed right for Eddie's narrow and unimpressive shoulders. Both guns were pointed right at the riddled one's head, because the kitty cat was no dumb kitten - not anymore. This Cat would shoot first, and ask questions later.
Eddie loved a good surprise. Even when it was a one-two sharp hit to his shoulders with all the kitty cat force she could afford him. He hadn’t felt pain like that in a long time, not since Arthur tied him up and tortured him just for fun. And, it’d be a lie if Eddie ever said he didn’t like it just a littttle bit. Plus, he enjoyed seeing that the cat was smart enough to follow the guy with the plan instead of forge her own path. He didn’t see that coming. The slight, green man fell back with a ggaaacck! and winced, eyes squeezed closed as he grinded his teeth and made a couple more pathetic, whimpering noises. When he opened his eyes, there was the cat, with her guns pointed at his head.
“Don’t get cute, meow face.” He murmured to her, grimace turning into a simple smile that didn’t contain any of the Arkham that was there before. The kitty cat would shoot for her share of the booty, but she’d never kill him for some cash. Eddie would bet his bottom dollar on it. Then again, Eddie could get a little crazy sometimes. “Or would the kitty really take the riddled man’s life?” He asked her seriously, as if asking these kinds of questions flat on his back was a natural thing. His mooks closed in, guns raised and Eddie rolled his head to the side. “One second, friends. I want to settle a moral dispute with the cat here.”
"I'm always cute, Eddie." Maybe she didn't refer to herself as cute very much these days, because the kitty cat had started to feel too old for that particular descriptor, but it didn't show on her face. She was all lush smiles as she pointed the heat at his face, and nothing on her face gave away whether or not this kitty cat would hesitate to put a pair of matching holes in the man with the riddles.
She knelt on his chest, black and sleek and an unforgiving knee against his sternum. "And I don't know, would I?" she said of taking his life. She watched as he told his little henchmen to wait, and there was nothing on her face that showed even the slightest bit of concern. The guns, so close to his face, were security; it was the reason she'd gone for them and forgone her precious whip. "See, the kitty cat is very grateful that you helped her find little princess popsicle, and she's very grateful that you got her such good transportation. But now, I think we have to go. There's a little reward that I need to collect, and I'm sure there's a tiny blonde bat somewhere that you'd rather get cozy with. Does Eddie really want to spend the night with another man's frigid wife? Tsk."
He gave a gurgling sound as she pressed against him. Purple glasses askew and know-it-all smirk still fixed on his face. “You’d be a lot better off if you answered my rid-dles.” Eddie murmured in a rough sing-song voice and closed his eyes. He didn’t care much who delivered the ice queen in the end. He didn’t even care about bragging rights. Part of reforming was suppressing that competitive edge he had with everyone in town. An edge that would do anything to win. An edge that would have already shot off the cat’s tail to scamper away.
Still, he didn’t give out free ice cream.
Eddie couldn’t shoot her, so he did the next best thing. He tightened his grip around his cane as she purred at him and pushed it into her side. With a snap crack it gave out a lick of electricity as powerful as a taser. He used the opportunity to crawl out from under her like a child escaping bathtime and staggered to his feet behind the two goons. “Stall.” Eddie breathed a ragged gasp, his black hair flopping wildly down in front of his eyes in a comic book curl.
Anne wasn’t convinced she could take on the cat. Jeremy was looking forward to it. Eddie didn’t give a damn if the Cat knocked the two of them out in seconds, all he needed to do was get on that truck where Mrs. Freeze was being loaded.
The electricity bit, and that bite made the kitty cat very, very angry. She was tired of being bossed around by the likes of Oliver Queen, and she was tired of a world where she felt like she knew people, but where nothing was like it had been. Damian had made her feel old, and Bruce had made her feel meaningless, and the kitten made her feel like she couldn't get anything right. She rolled onto her feet and rubbed where it hurt. She was angry, and it was very, very obvious. Stall? She pointed a gun at each of the henchmen, and she fired low, at their ankles. She didn't hesitate before running toward then, full tilt and an arial flip over their heads. She twisted mid-air, and her whip wound itself around both of them rolling them together and pinning their arms to the sides of their bodies.
Stall? Wasn't that just adorable.
She gave the bound pair of useless little nothings a sharp kick, sending them rolling. Let someone else worry about those two.
She took off after the man in green at full speed. He had enough headway on her that getting into that truck was a given, but it didn't mean he was getting away clear. If she couldn't claim the prize, neither could he.
She didn't go for the door of the truck, and she didn't shoot out the tires. No, the kitty cat ran behind, and she shot open the rear doors that hid little Mrs. Popsicle. She stood there a second, giving herself time to rethink, but she was too worked up to alter course. The bullets hit the bottom quarter of Mrs. Freeze's container, and fluid began to leak down into the truck's bed. Three more shots, all low and clear of the princess on ice, and Selina backed away.
It took Eddie a total of three seconds to go from mastermind, thrill seeking genius to concerned, experienced problem fixer. He didn’t want Lady Freeze to die. He didn’t like that angry cat he saw in the rearview mirror. That was enough to put the crazy back in its box and solve this problem. His laugh died quickly, his smile faded into something more stern and worried and he screamed at Frank to STOP THE TRUCK as he heard something crack and splash. The truck spun to a sudden stop in the middle of the warehouse district, Mrs. Freeze’s cold coffin sliding to the side and almost spilling out onto the hard asphalt. By then the truck was useless and it was luck that she hadn’t hit something that could have blown him up.
Eddie was out of the truck in seconds, running to the back to see the trail of practically glowing blue frozen goop and Selina standing there with the gun her her hand. “Frank, get out of here.” Eddie said, all of the riddles gone and replaced with a dark, mature wisdom that didn’t match his bright colors at all. Frank tried to protest, as he always did, but with another stern request the best henchman in Gotham was gone. Eddie turned to look at Selina, hand idly touching the warm Ankh on his tie as if it were a prayer bead and put his other hand up. “Okay, okay.” Calm, worried about her. Worried about this damn ice queen.
“She’s going to die if we don’t get her to Freeze soon. I’m going to get working on repairing what I can of the glass case. I don’t give a damn about the money. If she dies, you’re screwed for life. We both are.” Eddie walked towards her, the rival rogue bit gone in exchange for a friend helping a friend. “We tell him that we ended up working together and Falcone caught up and tried to shoot out the tires.” He put his hands on his hips for a second, trying to remember how much safety gear was in the smoking, broken truck. Then, quietly: “Sloppy work, Selina. Real sloppy.”
It took Selina a little longer to shift out of win mode. The kitty cat had spent seven years playing much, much harder games than the ones played in this Gotham, and what had just happened was evidence of that. Her mossy green eyes were dark as she looked over at Eddie. The way he touched his tie felt unfamiliar, and it was only the hands that settled onto his hips that reminded her that she knew him, this little frazzled man in green.
"So, call Freeze. Tell him where she is," she said, unconcerned. Freeze could put her back on ice. Putting people on ice was what Freeze did. And if there was a little worry line burrowing its way between her brows, well, that didn't mean anything at all. The kitty cat wasn't actually concerned. Not really. "It wasn't sloppy. It was intentional," she said, fully intending to claim she'd never, ever even been there. What was it that he'd said? No one could be trusted in this Gotham? Well, he'd brought that reality home tonight, and she couldn't be blamed for feeling a little scratched by it. "You've been here too long, Eddie. You've forgotten how the game is played. Or did you think I was just going to let you win? That isn't how we do it." And if ever there was proof that she'd been gone a long, long time, that was it. "What's the point of playing, if you aren't in it to win?" Because all she'd done was take his win away from him. She couldn't claim the reward, fine, then neither would he.
Those were Gotham's rules. The real Gotham, and she shrugged off the guilt that was making her shoulder twitch. Her guns were holstered at her thighs, and her whip was in her hand a moment later. It was very, very obvious the kitty cat didn't intend to stay around and say meow to Mr. Popsicle.
Eddie was already walking back towards the truck, getting whatever tools for repair he could use to keep the woman alive long enough to either get her to a popsicle stand or Freeze. He turned, giving Selina a look over his shoulder that was soft and inquisitive, like he was trying to recalibrate her into his life. Eddie valued her so much for being the kitty he knew, but now he was starting to see the giant flaw in wanting someone like that around. He wasn’t the same Eddie and it would take Selina years and years to catch up.
“Sloppy.” He repeated with a shrug, turning with a sweep of one leg out and his hands in his pockets. So old fashioned. So much swagger for someone who worried so damned much. “You could have taken her in three moves.” Eddie wasn’t impressed by her false indifference. He had seen it too many times on his young, blonde bat to take it seriously. And, god he was getting tired of girls trying to act like women. “You took five and you nearly killed a woman in coma. A woman, who would haunt you for the rest of your nine lives because her husband is a psycho snowman.” Eddie was at the truck, rolling up his sleeves and putting on giant rubber gloves. The riddled man thought of everything.
“Did it ever occur to you that some people play games for different reasons than you?” Duct tape. Eddie needed duct tape. He searched his bag. “Did it ever occur to you that those guns and your bad aim aren’t going to get you anywhere beyond a couple jewel heists? Go, Selina.” Eddie flopped his giant glove in the air dismissively. “Riddler can take care of your mess.”
She didn't like that look he gave her. It made her feel exposed, like the cracked paint at the party had, and the kitty cat didn't like that feeling at all. "Intentional." she insisted. She'd seen a way to get the woman in three moves, but not without damaging him, and she'd opted not to go that route. And that was the real problem. In her Gotham, she would have left him on the floor and never given him a chance to hit her with that cane. Just another reason why walking the fence didn't work, not for the kitty cat, not here. Back home, she didn't have to worry about her emotions getting in the way. She wasn't good enough to kill the Bat, so she didn't hold back with him. And with everyone else? The kitty cat just didn't care. She'd lost that here, for that year all those years back. She'd lost her deathwish, too, but it was all back, strong as ever, and she was already walking away by the time he was talking about being hunted. Please, like the kitty cat cared about being hunted. She was hunted from the time she woke up in the evening, until the time she went to sleep at sunrise.
She would have kept going, but he had to make that comment about games. She stopped, heels clicking to a standstill. "Who says there's anywhere else to go?" she asked, and she looked over her shoulder as he flopped his glove into the air. "This isn't real, Eddie, and it isn't permanent. Any moment, when you least expect it, you could be back home. You could be stuck there, and you wouldn't have the slightest idea how to survive in that world anymore, not without your little blonde bat and your little moral code. I learned that the hard way. I won't go soft again. This is just a waiting game," she told him, and there was old pain in her green eyes, seven years of forcing herself to be fit for hell again, and she'd never gotten a chance to get there without knowing she was missing, not like he had.
"It's not my mess. It was your mistake," she insisted, even as she swung her whip at a beam. "I didn't win, Eddie, but neither did you. It's what we call a stalemate." The whip kissed the air, hissed, and she let it swing her up to the top of the truck, and then to the top of the destroyed warehouse.
Somehow, she didn't feel any better for having thwarted him.
Eddie pulled the duct tape out (bright green with little question marks, of course), making a ssccrraaaaaattcccccch sound as it ripped off the roll. He didn’t give a damn about her pride. Didn’t give a good goddamn about getting in trouble, either, since trouble was always just another puzzle to wiggle out of. But, something about doing the right thing when a person like Selina refused to made his fingers itch. And, when she said he could lose the blonde bat any second he stopped working long enough to actually listen.
“No one’s going to screw up what I have with Stephanie except for me. Not even this goddamned hotel.” Eddie whispered, returning to his patch-up work with anger in his dark eyes she couldn’t see. He didn’t like someone dropping in on his world and reminding him how the only thing that survived Gotham were the cockroaches and since he upgraded to a caterpillar or maybe one of those fuzzy centipedes, his chances of keeping his happiness were oh so very slim. “You can take that to the bank, Selina.”
But, the cat was already gone and all Eddie could see was the Snow White sleeping peacefully in her broken glass box. Eddie checked the readings on her casket and could make sense of some of them, but wouldn’t be able to build another machine in time to save her. He had to call Freeze. Right after Eddie promised himself that he’d never end up like him.