Catwoman acts as protector of children and finds some disturbing realities. Things only get worse the deeper into the investigation she goes. A simple thief, not any more. A Mercenary? Maybe if someone were paying her bill. Story threads start weaving together.

Diamond in the Rough

by Lynceus

Lee Crawley had given up on trying to be a hero a long time ago; the world owed him a living, and he intended on taking whatever he wanted. Then he made the mistake of thinking superpowers would make his life easier...

Chicago Water Torture 1

(It would be torture for anyone else!)   (AquaGirl 2)

by mittfh

Copyright © Ben Norwood 2010

Ever spent an entire morning swimming underwater, the afternoon having an intensive workout,
followed by an evening trying to reason with an alien AI with an obnoxious personality?
It's all in a day's work for Rena...

With thanks to Lilith, Lynceus and EnemyOfFun - you know your roles in producing this!

Image credits:
  Original: DC Comics
(found @ ComicVine)
  Modified: mittfh

I interrupted her. "Never mind that. The chips. I want them." I needed at least one sample, and I couldn't trust anyone else to destroy the remainder.

She frowned at me. "Now hold on one moment, Miss..."

I sighed, and silently cursed my new form for the thousandth time. Intimidation wasn't in my arsenal anymore, unless you were six years old. If I couldn't intimidate, I had to demonstrate, and that took time and people got hurt. My hand snapped out and grabbed the woman's throat, lifiting her off the ground. "Chips!"

Her hands clutched at her hand on my throat for a few moments, before she pointed frantically back towards the hallway. "Office. Safe." she choked out.

I headed towards the bar but didn't get far before there was a touch on my arm. "Um, hey gorgeous, how's about getting us a drink?" The line sounded over-rehearsed and rushed, more of a plea than a confident request. I pasted on a smile and turned to face a short man with a middle-aged spare tire and a ruddy complexion, thin hair pasted across his bald head. He was standing alone, so 'us' must have meant, well, us. His eyes were fixated on my breasts. I kicked myself for spending so much time working on my face; in this crowd, I could have had slitted pupils, sharpened teeth and a snake for a tongue, and only the other women would notice.

"We were hoping to work out an arrangement where we might occasionally call upon your skills, in a consulting role. We'd benefit from your experience on the street and your impressive metahuman abilities, and in return, you'd get to call upon our resources -- intel, financial, manpower, equipment. The ability to run interference with the law. Plus, of course, we'll pay you. An annual retainer, paid immediately, plus a fee for each job, half in advance."

This is much too sweet a deal. I shook my head slowly, sliding the badge back to her. "I'm sorry. It sounds very interesting, but I've got other things on my mind at the moment. Perhaps in a couple of weeks, we could talk again." I got the feeling Merrick was sincere, but I didn't trust the motives of the people behind her. I stood up, ending the discussion.

"Wait. Before you decide, you should hear what the first two jobs are."

The first one reached out to grab me. I wanted to kill them -- kill somebody -- so badly I could taste it, but I couldn’t afford the luxury. Not yet. I broke his arm and smashed his knee, putting him down with a gratifying scream. The second guy I just tossed over the bar into the wall, hard. He slid down and didn’t move. I slapped Ramon’s knife out of his hand and bent him backwards over the bar, fist bunched in his shirt, my now-broken beer bottle pressed into his cheek. “The bartender touches that gun, you lose the fuckin’ eye, kay? You choose.”

"Hey! Wait! You said you wanted to talk!"

I sighed and settled back to the roof. "We have been talking. We’ve been talking about what a bunch of fuckups you are. How you’ve been infiltrated, and you knew it, and you dragged me into this anyway." My voice was rising. "I am not interested in your games. I’m just trying to cope with the shit that’s been dumped on me, live my life, and help out where I can. As far as I can tell, the only thing that keeps me out of your hands is that you don’t know who I am."

I folded my arms across my chest. "I don’t know why you asked Jade to set up this meeting. I don’t know anything about your group. I don’t know what your intentions are, or if I should trust you even if you told me. I’m not feeling a lot of government love out there for metas. Some of you guys have already tried to cart me off and dissect me, alive or not. I was lucky -- lucky! -- Jade was there for me. Nobody else was. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t you. Or maybe you’re just plan B."

The events detailed in this story take place in the three hours after the events in "Catching Up" and "Big Trouble 3"

Author's Note: A Retroactive Continuity, or Retcon if you will, is the altering of previously known facts in order for the universe to conform to new story lines. This is mine. This is a retcon of the story of Catwoman's furhter adventures. Detective Comics owns the character of Catwoman, Lex Luthor and Lena Luthor.