According to Plan

Disclaimer: I don’t own Batman or BTVS, if I did there’d be more capes in both!
A/N: Sorry for the delay! Classes started and my reading list is a little on the oh-my-god-my-head’s-going-to-explode! side.


Gotham Slayer
By: Cousin Mary


They reached the corner of Myrtle and 17th in record time. There were no other cars and nearly all of the surrounding businesses appeared abandoned, most were boarded up. 24/7: Storage and Disposal was set back from the street behind a pad of crumbling asphalt and a rusting razor wire fence. The building itself was a colossal warehouse with a blue corrugated tin roof that had leaked stains down crumbling, cinderblock walls. There were security lights burning in each adjacent alleyway and there was one strip of yellow neon above the front door. Once Bruce shut off the engine, the light buzzing was the only sound.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Buffy asked, already eyeing the roof for access.

Bruce didn’t answer. As he got out of the car, his movements jerky and tense, he let the edge of his cape drag across the ground. Buffy couldn’t help but wonder if Bruce did his own laundry, or, if Alfred spent his Saturdays adding extra starch to his boss’s vigilante wash cycle. She bit back a smile. It wasn’t really funny, in fact, it was probably close to the truth. Alfred had to know, they lived in the same apartment, at least she thought they did. She shook her head and climbed out of the car, there’d be time to worry about stuff like that later. Bruce had something electronic in his hand but apparently wasn’t in much of a sharing mood; even when she cleared her throat expectantly he failed to look up.

Well, if Bruce was going to go all strong and silent on her she’d just have to take matters into her own hands. She had a plan after all, not much of one: bust down the door, kick ass, save Dawn. But a solid, workable plan nonetheless. She glanced between the alleys, the roof and the front door, mentally weighing pros and cons.

“Buffy,” Bruce hissed. His eyes were heavy on her when she turned back. She noticed a muscle in his jaw jump. Like he’d bit himself.

“She said she was in row 47,” she said, “that’s probably near the back.”

Bruce nodded before taking off towards the alleyway on the right. When Buffy started towards the left, Bruce changed direction and followed her. It couldn’t be that he was afraid to go alone, and he had to know by now that she could handle herself... She didn’t argue though, and let him follow after her like a big, winged puppy.

The alley was long, with motion activated lights flicking on one by one as they passed. They apparently weren’t attached to any sort of alarm, at least, no one raced outside to confront them. The lights cast strange double, triple shadows on the opposite wall, Bruce’s bat costume projected three stories high in blacks and grays.

The back of the building boasted a series of doors, from normal sized all the way up to a huge roll up number that looked ready to accept anything smaller than a jumbo jet. Bruce chose a door with human proportions and pulled something that looked like a credit card attached to a wire from his belt. He swiped it between the door and jamb and there was a sound like cellophane crinkling before the door lolled open.

“That’s handy,” Buffy commented, pushing past him into the warehouse. She paused just over the threshold, straining her senses for any sign of her sister or the kidnappers. Directly in front of her, and throughout most of the warehouse, were rows of storage units, each built out of cinder blocks, each with its own roll up door. Far off to one side there was a more open path that led to things like boats, old cars and assorted large items not fit to be left out in Gotham’s unforgiving clime. Her spidey sense told her there was at least one vampire nearby and she could make out the sound of a far off conversation deeper in the warehouse. There was no sign of Dawn.

She pulled a stake out of her jacket pocket. The last row wasn’t marked but she was beginning suspect that row 47 was going to be smack dab in the middle. It made sense, the warehouse was so huge and maze like, the size alone would act like another guard. Bruce had one of his gizmos in hand, a wire ran from the device to a tiny port embedded in the side of his mask, like some weird Ipod. I-bat? Buffy winced, she really had to stop mentally naming everything ‘bat.’ She moved closer to Bruce and looked down at the display screen.

“Anything?” She whispered, unsure what the graph was actually showing.

“I’m worried what’s stored here,” Bruce’s voice was at an odd register, not quite his own, but not really Batman’s either. It kept hitching, his words catching between syllables. “Weapons, explosives… the client list is extensive.”

Buffy nodded, trying not to think about all the blind corners and potential traps ahead of them. She had to get to Dawn. She slid forward, her feet landing soundlessly despite her fashionable footwear. The warehouse wasn’t much warmer than the outside, but she could feel sweat prickling between her shoulder blades and soaking into her thermals.

Together they moved deeper into the warehouse. She wanted to tell Bruce to take another route, that he was following too close, but something in his expression made the words die in her throat every time she tried. Splitting up made sense, but he wasn’t going to do it. She drew a long breath as they passed into the storage rows proper. The units were tall enough that getting over them would be difficult. The aisles between the rows were about 8 feet across, enough room to maneuver in a fight but not really wide enough to dodge a bullet. Buffy swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. She might die tonight, or worse, she could get Bruce killed.

The murmur of voices echoed through the warehouse. She had a vague idea of where they were coming from, but she wasn’t sure. And with Bruce behind her she had to be sure. She took a hard right and started following along the outer edge of the warehouse. The fluorescent lights overhead burned bright, but sharp angles and disused corners fell into shadow.

Then someone screamed and her ‘stay hidden plan’ went to hell.

She was running before the voice even registered as her sister’s. The first person she came across was 100% human. He wasn’t armed with anything more lethal than a flashlight, but she clocked him across the jaw anyway. He went down fast, hard and silently.

Human number two had time to make a noise, more of a shout of surprise than an actual warning, but then he too was out cold. Bruce had climbed up on top of the storage units, at least, she assumed it was him. She came to the intersection of two rows and froze with no idea which way to go. Bruce’s steps echoed like car crashes on empty streets as he bounded ahead.

“Dawn?!” Buffy shouted, her voice loud, frantic even to her own ears.

There was a sound of one of the roll up doors slamming shut deeper in the warehouse and Buffy chased after it. She could sense the vampire, hear its movements, almost touch it. Her stake was clutched in her hand and she could feel tiny slivers shed off in her hot palm.

“Buffy!” It was Bruce, it sounded like a warning. She stopped dead only to watch in horror as the vampire came out from behind a corner with Dawn clutched to his massive chest. He was a big one, tall and broad. He had small, nearly beady eyes buried in a puffed up boiled ham of a face. He had a gun to her sister’s temple.

“Call off your dog or the girl dies!” The vampire snarled.

“He’s a bat,” Buffy pointed out stupidly, she didn’t mean to, it just slipped out. She slid her stake into the waistband of her suit, under her jacket. His eyes were darting in every direction almost at once. He was looking for Bruce, but he didn’t know exactly where he was either. Buffy held up her empty hands and took a step closer. “You know you’re only getting out of here if you let her go.”

“Back the f*** up!” The vampire screamed, taking the safety off the gun and jamming it into her sister’s cheek. For her part, Dawn looked pissed. Her eyes were angry and locked on the ground about midway between herself and Buffy. Her hands were curled up clenching the arm pinning her to the vampire. Even from a distance Buffy could see that her nails were drawing blood.

She took a moment to wonder where Bruce was. He had to be watching, but as long as the vamp had a gun on Dawn, there wasn’t much either of them could do.

“It was supposed to be easy. Straight up kidnappin’, hand over the dough and no one gets hurt,” the vamp explained. “You weren’t supposed to come here!”

“You’re a vampire, I’m the Slayer,” Buffy shook her head. “How did you think it was going to work?”

“This is business,” he argued, “I didn’t bite her!”

“You still kidnapped her!” Buffy yelled back. It was ridiculous, getting into a screaming match with vampire who wanted to be a ‘real’ criminal. “Just let her go!”

“No!” The vampire yanked on Dawn, her whole body lifting off the ground for a split second. If anything her nails went deeper. He grimaced and slipped into game face. Dawn just rolled her eyes. “Tell Batman to get out. This is between me and you, Slayer.”

“Even if he leaves I’m still here,” Buffy reminded him.

“You leave too,” he tried.

“Not without my sister!” Buffy huffed. If it weren’t for the gun she’d so just tackle him. Her stake hand was getting itchy.

At that point, Bruce took it upon himself to drop down from… somewhere. There was a big swirl of cape and something that sounded like a fishing reel releasing, then suddenly, there was Bruce. His dark eyes held a look of fury that Buffy could hardly reconcile with the Bruce she knew. His jaw was clenched and something close to hate radiated from him, just by the way he stood and glared at the vampire. He looked so frightening, so much the embodiment of what should be feared, that Buffy wasn’t that surprised when the vamp took his gun off Dawn and fired at Bruce.

Bruce moved again and the bullet hit cape. There was a moment when Buffy’s heart stopped, when she thought Bruce would go down, hurt, bleeding, dying. But he didn’t. He lifted his hand and something spun out and hit the gun, knocking it to the ground. Bruce moved like a dancer, even catching Dawn when she was shoved forward. The vampire staggered a step back and then spun, disappearing down one of the badly lit aisles.

“You got her?” Buffy asked even as she rushed past the pair after the vamp. She pulled her stake and let her spidey-senses bubble to the surface. He wouldn’t get far.

“Buffy?” Her sister was favoring her right leg, but quickly stood on her own.

“Stay with Bruce!” Buffy ordered over her shoulder, leaping over the spilled remains of something the vampire had knocked over.

“Wha- Bruce?”

Buffy heard her sister behind her. She cringed but she couldn’t stop to explain. Right, Dawn didn’t know. Well, now she did. Buffy blew out a harsh breath and took a second turn, racing across an empty cement floor. The vampire was trying to confuse her, not heading straight for a door but rather in a serpentine pattern through the cavernous warehouse, hoping to lose her. It wasn’t going to work.

It took her fifteen minutes to finally corner the vamp and introduce him to Mr. Pointy II. She rolled her shoulders back as she watched the dust settle. Her inner-Slayer was relaxed, happy with a job well done. Buffy, on the other hand, still had things to do. It was a rare day when Buffy was jealous of the Slayer.

By the time she got back, the still unconscious human kidnappers had been handcuffed together with bat-shaped restraints. Dawn was finger combing her hair, clearly not talking to Bruce.

“Did you get him?” Bruce asked. It was in his own voice, though he still had the mask on. It was kind of surreal.

“Dust in the wind,” Buffy tried to smile, but it didn’t really work. She eyed his suit, looking for any sign that the bullet had landed. “Are you okay?”

He grunted, which is something Batman would do, but not Bruce. Buffy frowned, unsure what to say.

“Uh, thanks for helping me with, you know, all this,” Buffy gestured around the warehouse. She knew she was staring at him, but she couldn’t seem to stop.

“Can we go?” Behind all the teenage bravado, Dawn was obviously fading fast. There was an ugly bruise blooming on her cheek and there was a look in her eyes… a look Buffy hadn’t seen there since before Sunnydale fell.

“Yeah, uh,” Buffy’s eyes darted to Bruce.

“I’ll drive you home,” he offered.

She felt Dawn stiffen beside her. Buffy closed her eyes and shook her head, “Uh, no, that’s all right. I mean, there’s a subway station like a block away and someone has to…” she gestured to the kidnappers, “can you handle them, maybe?”

He nodded, but his face was unreadable with the mask on. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, but she couldn’t be sure what that meant. She found herself reaching out to touch him, or rather the bulletproof shield covering his forearm. She tapped her fingernail against the plate, absently wondering how heavy the suit had to be, when Bruce started rotating his arm. Her fingers were dragged off the edge of the armor and onto the underside of his arm. It was softer, just cloth over skin and muscle. She could feel his pulse.

She looked up and met his eyes and, there was just so much there, Buffy nearly gasped. She bit her lip and wanted, actually, she didn’t know what she wanted but somehow she knew that if she could just find the right words Bruce would give it to her. The intensity, the heat, in his eyes… but then again, Bruce wasn’t talking and Dawn was shivering behind her and one of the kidnappers was waking up and, and…

Glancing over at her sister, Buffy saw that Dawn was edging away. The teen hadn’t picked a direction, but it was clear that it was only the maze keeping her close. She wanted to leave and Buffy couldn’t blame her. She looked back at Bruce, but the moment had passed. He looked as guarded as she’d ever seen him. “Uh, call me? Or, maybe just come over when you’re…”

Bruce was staring at her, his face tilted forward in a way that threw his eyes into shadow. Buffy swallowed and looked away. Now that Dawn was safe, everything she’d pushed away came racing back. She felt awkward and stupid and more than a little hurt. How long had he known who she was? What she did? How long had he kept his secret even though he’d known hers? They’d sat in her kitchen and she’d told him about the Hellmouth, about the Master and destiny and everything that made her her, her whole nightmare of a life! And he just, he’d just sat there and stared. Kind of like he was doing now.

“We should go,” Dawn piped up, “it’s gotta be really late.”

“Yeah, it is,” Buffy agreed. Her sister was shaking so Buffy took off her jacket slung it over her shoulders. She glanced back at Bruce one last time, but he stayed quiet. She led Dawn to the exit and just before they stepped out, she heard him. It was barely more than a whisper, but for some reason it carried.

“Buffy.”

If she hadn’t been the Slayer she might not have heard him. As it was, she pulled Dawn closer and pretended she hadn't.


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