A Day in the Life of Mercy Graves
All characters belong to their perspective copyright holders
This is a departure from my standard work due to the ennui I suffer in either lack of story ideas or just ennui in general. I was going back and looking through my Superman TAS DVDs and I really liked the character of Mercy Graves who is Lex Luthor's bodyguard, chauffeur, go-between, hitwoman/henchwoman and somebody you don't want to trifle with or call her "baby," and what clinched it for me was the cat fight between her and Harley Quinn while Joker and Luthor were having a conversation about sudden developments in Joker's commission and the sudden appearance of Batman.
At 5:30, Mercy Graves awoke to the sound of her alarm clock. Instantly alert she went through her normal routine of showering, ablution and running a comb through her short sandy blond hair. Being the only occupant of her midtown Metropolis apartment she made great use of her K-Cup coffee maker which save her time, money and most importantly aggravation and ammunition especially if she was stuck behind someone ordering those over priced coffee drinks with very specific instructions when all she wants is a simple cup of black coffee.
With a little time to spare, she glanced at the Daily Planet through her smart phone. Ah! The boy in blue made the news yet again. Am I surprised? Not really. She thought to herself as she sipped her coffee. Actually Mercy was quite ambivalent to Superman but she can understand Lex was coming from since he was a self made man from Suicide Slums and Superman flies right in, and literately, steals the spotlight. She will admit to herself she wouldn't mind making a pass at Wonder Woman, Power Girl, Zatanna or the Flash.
Glancing at the clock on the wall next to her framed poster of the Knight Sabers from an '87 anime called the Bubblegum Crisis and another called the Dirty Pair. She had to laugh at herself; during one of her days off she was perusing a local video store looking a movie watch, preferably one with a gun toting tough woman kicking ass and taking names and a shitload of violence. She happened to walk through the Japanese anime section or eye candy for the pimple faced basement dwellers. Until she came across a title called the Bubblegum Crisis, watching it she really enjoyed the character Priss Asagiri but she felt the character Brian J. Mason and his Boomer henchwomen kind of hit too close home with her and Lex. Getting back her mind back on track, it was already half past six and Lex's schedule was to arrive at the office half past seven.
Taking the elevator, Mercy exited to the garage level heading for her private parking spot and her pride and joy, a high performance midnight black Ducati 1198.
Stuffing her hat into her gym and strapped down to the back of her bike, Mercy pulled on her black helmet and turned on the engine. Revving up her bike a few times, the rumbling of 180 horsepower in between her legs gave her a rush no man can give her. Flipping the visor down, she sped her way out of the underground garage and into rush hour. Being on a motorcycle gave her advantage of weaving in between traffic and cut through back alleys. Have fun, ya' schmucks!
Reaching her destination with at least 15 mins to spare, she reached the underground garage of Lex's apartment building. She parked her bike in a private space then traded her helmet for her chauffeur's hat from her gym bag.
Approaching Luthor's limo, Mercy tossed her gym bag into the front passenger seat and pulled out a shammy from a wall mounted equipment locker and began wiping down the limo as per her many duties. After receiving a call from Lex to start up the car, she turned on the radio while she waited in time for her favorite morning radio program: the Leslie Willis show. Metropolis' no. 1 shock jock; she was crude, rude and without a filter. Lex tolerated Mercy listening to the show on the way to office since he derived some amusement from her colorful rants against Superman. Mercy's even called in couple times where she can get "a little" vulgar about the topic Leslie was ranting about much to the host's delight that Mercy was her favorite caller. She tried listening to Howard Stern a couple times only to have Lex ordering her to change the station. One remembered one amusing thought of radio duo named Timm and Dini who had a routine lampooning Lex, before Willis was brought in, last Mercy heard of them they were doing traffic and weather in Barrow, Alaska.
Arriving at the office at 7:30, to Mercy it was turning out to be a normal day at the office as administrative assistants swarmed around Luthor giving him his itinerary for the day various press conferences, meetings, and two banquets later in the week. She quietly excused herself to make use of the company gym. Trading her working clothes for a tank top and pair of gym shorts from her gym bag along with her iPod and earbuds; with IPod in hand she put on playlist marked "workout" which included works by Nine-Inch Nails, Rage Against the Machine, Linkin Park, Motley Crue, Metallica, and the like. Cranking up the volume and clipping her iPod to the waistband of her short she exited the locker room for the gym for an hour at the weights then half hour of cardio, for her working on a punching bag. As she worked out her ears being blasted by heavy metal she allowed her mind to wander a bit, she'll examine herself during the course of the first hour of her workout she thought back to incident last week when she clothes shopping at the mall and some rail thin anorexic moron had the great misfortune to call Mercy "fat." Getting her and equally bean pole friends up against a wall and in cold, sardonic voice told her "look bitch, this ain't fat, it's muscle. And I can break you like the fuckin' twig that you are, so don't piss me off." During her time with bag, she remembered promising Lex and the gym manager of going easy on the punching bags, since she alone blew the gym budget during times when she needed to blow off steam on the job. There was another gym she was well known very near her apartment where all local boxers hang out, during her off time she'll go in to spar but many of the fighters would get to get together and have a lottery of who gets to be Mercy's sparring partner and a betting pool of how long her opponent lasts against her in the ring, double if her opponent does something stupid like call her "baby" or "little girl."
After her hour-and-a-half intense workout, she walked across the gym to the meditation room; taking her iPod she switched the playlists from 'workout' to one marked 'meditation' which played more calming music aided in her mediation. After 30 mins of meditating, she always felt refreshed; she made a mental note to consider for as an alternative form of anger management when her normal options were closed to her.
After showering and changing back into working clothes, she entered Lex's spacious office to find her boss in a very unhappy mood, which meant someone was going to die. "Problem, Lex? Or did Superman just take a massive dump on your plans?" She quipped.
"Very funny Mercy," He answered in a very dry tone, "No, some lowly crime boss has just stolen several million dollars of Lex corp equipment."
"Ah! I suppose you know who it is and you want him disposed of?"
"Yes, and as you see fit," Lex answered having Mercy a packet.
Taking the packet from Lex, she opened it and pulled out the contents. The petty crime boss was a Gotham local named Vincent Starky, AKA: "Vinny the Shark." Nothing remarkable ran drug lab out of South Gotham, then ran crystal meth from abandoned auto part factory out of Bayside both broke up by Detective Harvey Bullock while latter being assisted by Batman. Both times doing a stretch in Stone Gate and then released on parole. "Well I guess I will be moonlighting tonight."
"After your task is completed take the rest of night off."
"You got it!" She grimly smiled.
After work, Mercy returned to her apartment to get ready for her assignment, at the dinette table she busily cleaned her pair of Desert Eagles. Once satisfied she loaded the two handguns and placed into a special shoulder rig holsters. Next she took a whetstone to sharpen her KA-Bar knife, she loved this type of knife when she had to do wetworks because it did not cast shine since the blade blacken great for the element of surprise. Next she checked to see if she had her brass knuckles.
Next she changed into pair night fatigues that also had several layers of Kevlar weaved into the fabric; enough to provide protection but not hindered her range of motion. Last was a black balaclava, she wait until she was near the target before she put it on. According to latest information she got from Lex, Vinny the Shark was holed up in a warehouse out in Hobbs Bay. Ready, Mercy left her apartment for her motorcycle.
Reaching her objective she parked her bike, some distance away and made her way to the warehouse avoiding the few night watchmen on patrol. Climbing up a ladder alongside the warehouse, Mercy, climbed through a skylight access hatch onto the catwalks where she pulled on her balaclava and a black ball cap.
"Boss, Luthor going to be rather pissed at us for heisting his stuff."
"Between him and Batman, I'll take Luthor. Keep working" Vinny ordered.
Suddenly several small canisters fell to Vinny's feet. "You idiots! I thought…." Before Vinny could finish the canisters exploded in bright flash and a loud cacophony of noise. Blinded and disorientated he fell to ground as two shots punctured both of his kneecaps. "Can't be Batman! Who the fuck!" He demanded before passing out
After a half an hour, Vinny awoke to find every one of his boys either dead or dying and person clad in black blowing a hole into in the head of his remaining goon. "Who the fuck are you?"
"The Grim Reaper, but mainly a messenger," Mercy quipped off hand as she knelt down and grabbed Vinny by the collar. "Mr. Luthor doesn't like punks like you jackin' his stuff."
In response Vinny spat in Mercy's cloth covered face. Taking out her part of brass knuckles, she slipped a pair on her free hand smashed it into Vinny's jaw, probably loosen some teeth. Getting back onto her feet she searched around for some rope. Tying Vinny's feet, she hoisted him from a rafter singing "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns and Roses. "Vinny, we're going to play a game. It's called piñata. Guess who the piñata is?"
Picking up a baseball bat from a fallen punk, she swung into Vinny's midsection breaking several ribs and punctured one or both his lungs. And with a mighty swing she slammed the bat right into his face breaking his nose, cheekbones and swelled up his eyes. "Aw, no candy. C'est la Vie."
Loading up the equipment stolen from Lexcorp into a single truck, Mercy drove it another warehouse that was owned by Lexcorp and made a phone call for pickup. Then she returned to the warehouse where she still left Vinny hanging and hanging onto life. Noticing the flammable material in the warehouse she took her KA Bar knife and ripped a hole into the oil drum and poured a trail from the oil stack around Vinny and near the exit. Taking out a pack of cigarettes, she lit one and smoked it a bit. "Yo, Vinny! Have a blast!" She remarked as she tossed the cigarette into the oil trail.
Vinny through his swollen eyes watched the flame trail speed its way to the stack of oil drums. She ain't no Batman. She's without mercy. Vinny made his final thoughts as he was engulfed in a massive fireball that consumed the warehouse.
Climbing back on her bike, Mercy Graves watched with satisfaction as a massive plume of smoke rose from the warehouse. Speeding off, the night was now her own, time to go home, change, find a seedy dive on Hobbs Bay, get drunk and maybe get into a bar room brawl; have a little fun.
Memo from author: Even though in the majority of my fics I interject a bit of myself into some of characters where I feel either it fits within the parameters of the character. But the bands I picked for Mercy's playlist are bands I felt would fit within the parameters of the character but I pulled a lot names off Wikipedia since I consider myself too highbrow to listen to likes of Linkin Park or Rage Against the Machine.