Chapter Two

Rachel Wayne's Point of View

Wayne Manor - Gotham City - 7:48 PM

The sautoir necklace was worth at least eight figures.

In fact, if the original appraisal value of the necklace was still correct, it was worth more money than ten average people would accumulate over the span of their entire lives. That had been when my mother had first acquired it on her honeymoon with my father decades ago in Italy, that had been where her jewelry collection had really begun.

With the near tripling of the value of precious metals and jewels since then, its weight in platinum, and the diamond and sapphire trim on the necklace band – along with the 53.5 carat sapphire mounted on the pendant, it might be pushing nine figures in its worth. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry, elegant, and it had fit my mother very well.

Though I had inherited my mother's love for jewelry, at least somewhat, I did think that the piece was ostentatious. I felt that it was something that only needed to be worn when one needed to make a statement – when one wanted to make others obey.

In the cut and thrust world of Gotham Society, I needed to use everything at my disposal to make sure that people knew that I was in charge. They needed to understand that their pathetic illusions were there because I had use for them there. I knew that the piece, which was worth more than most of their McMansions, would do it.

Like the stone foundations of the Manor, I'd be here long after they were gone.

"We're going to be late." Dick hummed as he marched into foyer.

Dick was dressed in a form fitting Armani tuxedo, his hair was slicked back, and I knew that every single person in that room that wasn't jealous of him, would be jealous of me. Dick's appearance, along with his looks, was just as much a part of the image. In the spot light, in the midst of the fact that we looked like twenty million bucks, they'd be far too distracted to gossip about our odd relationship, like the toxic rodents they were.

"It doesn't start until we get there," I answered back. "Are the grounds secure?"

"The perimeter alarms are functioning perfectly, if anything attempts to breach the grounds, you wouldn't be able to blast your way in," Dick hummed and folded his arms across his chest. "Alfred and Tim don't plan on leaving, so it's just you and me."

If the authorization code that only Dick and I had possessed wasn't entered at the gate, the manor would be locked down until we could get back here. It had been a precaution that I had installed years ago, but luckily, I had never put the system to use.

By that same token, the list of wrong-doers that had an inkling that my alter-ego and I were even mild related, could be counted on one hand. The list of those same wrong-doers that could potentially penetrate the defenses around the manor wasn't so much as a list, as it was a single name. It was the one name that could bridge the divide between Rachel Wayne and Batwoman, and put everything that I held dear at most risk.

"Any word if Jason is actually there yet?" I turned and arched an eyebrow.

Dick shook his head, "I called and asked, not yet."

"The security around ballroom?" I readjusted the necklace.

At of the corner of my vision, I could practically feel Dick rolling his eyes, "Tight."

Nothing was going to happen, that was the conventional wisdom at any rate – but I had learned a very long time ago to never take things at face value. It would be presumptuous to assume that Jason would simply allow a ball, thrown in his honor, to go unimpeded. If his physiological assessment was true, he simply was too unbalanced.

He needed help, he needed care.

Then, and only then, would I lower my guard – if only for a fraction of a second.

"Well then," I sighed and looked myself over in the mirror. "How do I look?"

Dick Grayson's Point of View

It was magnificent.

Not tasteless, but extravagant – it wasn't gauche, but it made a statement.

The statement only went to reaffirm that vast power of the Gotham elite, that if one had enough money, imperial grandeur was a mere flick of the wrist away. It was disgusting, in the way that it was the contradiction between the point of the celebration, and the celebration itself. The fact of that matter was that not everyone would benefit from the Jason Todd wing of the hospital, and even fewer would have a chance at it.

In short, this celebration was the rich celebrating the rich – as usual.

That was the story of this socioeconomic end of the populous of Gotham.

It was the order of the things in Gotham, I had known that since I was a child – and I knew that I would never, ever be able to change it. I had learned that the hard way, in both respects, and since then, I had no desire to be amongst these people.

If they could be called people – and not caricatures.

Except, I knew that it was something that Rachel had to do, it was necessary to her as breathing was. She was the head of the largest financial empire on the entire planet, she was the Queen, and she had to keep her nobles in line, or they would rebel.

She was the truly magnificent sight in the room.

Her couture gown, her shoes, her hair – the sapphire the size of a small apple nestled between her breasts. The cliched analogies of what she truly looked like did her no justice, because she did indeed look like the most valuable thing the entire ballroom.

That was saying a lot, when one was surrounded by these people.

"There are the Brooks," Rachel whispered in my ear as she sent them a false smile and convincing wave. "Patricia, from what I hear, is sleeping with the house keeper, the female housekeeper, and Jack is up to his neck in debt to the Black Mask."

I raised an eyebrow, "Drugs?"

"He made some bad investments," She replied softly and turned away from her subjects. "And in this world, you've got to keep up the image, and Roman has the cash."

That was another reason why she made sure to keep this aspect of her life up, because it did prove useful in some respects. More often the not, the rich and powerful of Gotham City had just as much of a connection to the seedy underground as the poor and disadvantaged. Sometimes, for Batwoman, it made sense to keep enemies close, rather than having to scour the planet for other leads to follow and chase down.

"And why would you go out of your way to make nice with them?" I hummed and slipped and arm around her waist before joining her in sending the crowd a bright smile.

When it came to this aspect of life, Rachel never made a move that wasn't calculated from at least three steps before hand. Someone had to do that if they were going to do what she did for how long she did it – that was the nature of Batwoman.

"You'll notice how their son isn't here?" She whispered.

Dick had indeed noticed that – and that was odd.

These sort of events, they tended to be affairs for everyone in a family, it was against how Gotham Society had developed. It was some sort of perverse rearing act, for the family to groom the children to one day take their place in this disgusting circus.

"When I learned of the identity of the new player, I added the Brooks to the guest list, at the last moment, and I made sure to do it personally," I grinned down at her a she leaned up to kiss me on the cheek for the photographraphy line. "Mr. Brooks holds the largest amount of debt to Roman than anyone else in Gotham – and with our new player's motives abundantly clear, I felt it prudent to put the two together and watch."

All with Mason Brooks asleep at home.

It was masterfully done.

Turning away, I leaned closer, "Jason is going to try and kill him?"

"Or kidnap him," She replied. "Jack Brooks owes Roman at least nine figures."

And if Rachel's logic was to be followed, Roman was funding the Brooks Holding Company, and if Jack Brooks wasn't alive to pay his debt, the Black Mask was out to the tune of a hundred of million of dollars, or more, – doing damage to his operation.

If Jason was truly interested in taking Roman down – Brooks would be tempting.

Probably irresistible

Rachel's eyes were calm to those who didn't know her, but there was a twinkle in them that bespoke of a sort of dark humor. I knew that she would never let Jason really kill Jack and Patricia Brooks – but she would use them to her advantage if she needed.

"Bait," I spoke.

"An insurance policy," She wore her best, overly-charming smile.

I felt her tap her fingers against my back, "One that I knew would pay off."

Turning my head back to follow her prodding, I laid my eyes on the man directly in front of his, chatting amicably with an older hospital donor. Although I knew who he was immediately, I was just struck by just how much Jason could blend in with them.

There was that dyed hair, and that white streak.

He looked almost exactly as he did the last time I saw him, expect he was a lot bulkier, bigger – and he carried himself as if he knew it too, he bore a unique smugness.

It was Jason – but it also wasn't.

It was an actor, it was a mask.

Masks where what we all about – no one did masks better than we did.

Jason Todd's Point of View

The Queen.

Ms. Wayne.

Rachel – Batwoman, Bats, Boss – whatever you wanted to call her.

That woman knew how to make an entrance, and she very much aware of that fact. She wore her wealth and status as a cloak, her last name as her scepter and crown and Dick as a symbol of her superiority. The stone that she wore, alone, was as valuable as an apartment building, and the homes of most of the people in this room.

"Ms. Wayne," I nodded at her – and I wasn't even bothering to hide my smirk as I looked him up and down, rubbing my new height advantage in his face. "Mr. Grayson."

Dick put one hand in the pocket of his suit, "You're an idiot."

"And you're a tool," I shot back.

"Takes one to know one," Dick scowled.

"Be careful Dickie," I walked forward, and took a sip of my glass. "Don't scowl too much, you'll get wrinkles – and you don't want to ruin that pretty face of yours, do you?"

It took every ounce of my willpower to suppress the shivers going through me.

I wasn't sure why that was happening, but I wouldn't dare explore it right now.

"This is a very important night," Rachel broke in and whispered. "Don't ruin it."

That pesky shiver did not subside, and I wouldn't be lying if I said that her proximity nearly broke my resolve to keep it under wraps. I knew myself well enough to know that the two were having an effect on me, but I was quite sure if it was on real. I wondered if it was because of my proximity to the both of them for the first-time years.

I shot her a smile, "I'm the guest of honor."

I was very carefully keeping my eyes trained off the Brooks in the background.

Rachel Wayne's Point of View

When I discovered the nature of the bond, I attempted to find a way to sever it.

There was none.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Any attempt to break the neural and chemical bond between the three of us would result in our deaths. That was a risk not worth taking, and I simply resigned myself to the fact that this was going to happen – and Jason and Dick would have to deal with it too. Even if Jason was unaware of it – I could see that death couldn't stop it any more than I could, he was still under effect of the bond, he was feeling that pull.

Not even death could stop it – if truly had died that is.

"If you'll excuse me boss," He stepped closer to me and breathed into my ear. "I have someone I need to see – and fortunately for you and Dick-head here, it's not you."

It was only after Jason had left that I left myself reflect on him.

I finally allowed my mind to dwell on the fact that it was not that past and that Jason Todd was grown now. The question of whether his psychological growth was on par with his physical one remained to be seen – but he was no longer a lanky teenager.

Turning my head and keeping my eyes on him, I could practically see our connection. It was a throbbing, pulsing need that his mere presence had exacerbated and from the feel of it, I wasn't the only one that had been effect by his proximity.

Dick's arm tightened around my waist.

"I think we need to excuse ourselves," He whispered in my ear.

I felt that tightening in my gut – it was familiar, yes.

My control over the bond was usually impeccable – usually yes.

But I was overwhelmed, I was utterly overwhelmed by Jason – it was like every aphrodisiac and drug I ever been subjected to, like every magnetic that I had ever felt.

Frustration welled up inside of me, anger at Jason's insolence – anger at myself for being the cause of a lot of it. The Brooks would not be here and I wouldn't have to make the choice between making sure Jason didn't kidnap them or kill them, and Dick.

This bond, this influence, it was pulling my judgement in two – and my fear was only surpassed by the lust spiking through me. That was what was driving me in two, the lust generated by both men and myself – not to mention my own real, natural lust.

There were some things that I couldn't even fight – and with the flood of hormones into my brain, even I found that I couldn't fight it – I wouldn't fight it at all.

It was going to make me go with him.

Dick's gripped my wrist, and pulled me away.

Trusting these feelings had taken quite a bit of work for me.

When we were first afflicted with the bond, and I still wasn't quite sure if that was the word to describe it, I kept my thoughts focused. Hormones in the brain could be manipulated into any shape or form that was desired. If one applied the right pressure, at the right point, and the precise junction, you could break someone. I figured that the same applied to the situation that Dick, Jason and I had found ourselves in. At first, I was very content to dismiss them, they were merely genetically manipulated hormones.

Just hormones.

My will had given me the strength to do everything that I had ever wanted to do with my life, and I had anticipated that it would have been able to do the same for me here. Mind you that this was before I had discovered the fatality of severing the bond, but I was sure that if I waited it out – if I kept hunting for a solution, I'd be able to do it.

It did not take me long to discover that there was something underlying about this chemical bond. While I hadn't bore a physical attraction to Jason, he was still very young when the incident occurred, I had harbored one for Dick. Without the machinations of our captors, it would have been something that I could have easily controlled. I wasn't an animal, and I had a sense of right and wrong to hold me back.

It was later that I realized that our captors had played on that long buried physical attraction that I had to Dick, had exacerbated it, and used it to bond us together. I never told him, and I wasn't sure if I was ever going to tell him – of all the things that I knew bound us together, I didn't want to face the idea that it was me that forced us together.

I groaned into his mouth as his hands drifted up my thigh.

There was a small part of me that was shameful over the fact that I had practically raised him. I took everything that I had to suppress that feeling daily and proceed, it was all that I could do to proceed, the only alternative meant pain, or death.

"I need him," Dick whispered against my mouth as we broke apart.

I resisted the urge to smirk, despite everything, "I guess we have our answer."

I knew exactly what was he was referring to, it had gone through my mind as well. Jason's size had trigged nothing short but a torrent of lust to surge through our bond, and it made me want to be dominated by him. I had never been one to give up any measure of control, which extended to sex, but I had felt the need to, very clearly.

I had wanted Jason to pin me down, tie me up and utterly use me.

That was not good.

The rocking of the private atrium that Dick and I had found ourselves in was also not good. Considering the airtight security around the event, I knew that the list of possibilities, excluding natural disasters, was not good. Judging from the intensity of the explosion, I would be willing to bet that it was caused by some well-placed explosives.

Dick's eyes widened, "The Brooks."

"This place was swept from top to bottom, and they didn't find any explosives," I commented lightly as I considered what to do next. "He must have someone inside."

"Or he knows you," Dick responded.

Pushing him back, I looked to my right and to my left, and then back at him, "You go back in there and stall, the explosion should be enough to distract the other guests."

I didn't like the idea of sending Dick against Jason without some manner of protection, but I had no choice. I had been so short sighted in my attempt to lure Jason out that I had walked around into his hands, blindfolded. No matter how much of a scum-bag Jack Brooks was, I wasn't about to let him be killed for being a pawn.

"Stall them," I repeated my order.

Dick scowled at me, but turned on his heels and took off in a run.

Keeping my eyes on the exact spot that Dick had been only moments before, I brought my left hand up and turned the diamond affixed to the ring that I wore on my index finger. The ring was real, the diamond, and the gold band, but it hid the only conventional way that I could summon the Batmobile and my armor on short notice.

This was a disaster of my own making.