Title: Vespertilio
Chapter: Chapter 1
Author: Svelte Rose
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Watchtower's been kidnapped. Batman works with the Justice League for the first time.
Pairing: Eventual Oliver/Chloe. Maybe a hint of Bruce/Chloe?

Xxxxx

She was going to kill Tess Mercer. Chloe lifted her heeled foot from the muddy pool she'd stepped in as quietly as she could. The attempt was unsuccessful. Her foot came away with a wet 'squick' and her shoe fell right back in with a 'plop.' She plucked the shoe from the puddle and stuck it back on, ignoring the squishy wet dirt. Diving into the bushes, she held her breath. A few seconds later, three kids, two girls and one boy, walked on by. The boy swore under his breath. The girl shushed him, straining her ears.

Chloe bit her tongue to keep from screaming Clark's name. She didn't even know if he'd hear. What she did know, however, was that the first two times she got away and screamed Clark's pseudonym, they'd found her immediately. While they didn't have Clark's super-speed, one of Tess' hired guns definitely had his super-sensitive hearing.

She swallowed nervously.

The trio turned towards her hiding spot. One of the girls sported a very satisfied grin and the other two looked positively bloodthirsty.

Xxxxx

Oliver glared at his cell phone. Katherine, the temp his company hired a month ago after his last secretary stormed off in a huff, flashed a pretty smile, setting his coffee cup down on the glass surface. He didn't even look up. Eyes seemed to bore holes into the expensive, hi-tech gadget before he finally cleared his throat.

"What's the rest of my schedule for today?"

Katherine licked her lips nervously. "You've got a board meeting at 2pm, a presentation by the financial planning committee at 4, a conference call at 5…"

He waved his hand and she stopped. "That's all." It was dismissive.

Katherine opened and closed her mouth several times before she finally snapped it shut and nodded. "Right."

"You can leave."

When the door shut behind her, she frowned and plopped down in her chair. Pouting, she picked up the phone and jabbed at the keys.

Xxxxx

The car drove by, kicking up dust, dirt, and stones. The passenger, a girl no older than fifteen had watched with a sort of unfazed expression as they passed the bedraggled traveler. Living in Gotham, they were used to sights like that.

Chloe didn't pay them any mind either. She was pretty sure she was walking straight into The Narrows, Gotham's slums. How she got there was an entirely different question. She had streaks of grime, sweat, and brown spots of dried blood littering the lab coat she stole. Both her heels were broken (one had broken off by itself so she had to snap the other one off), her arm was hanging at an awkward angle, and she was pretty sure she twisted her ankle. She was a gimp.

She looked awful. It was normal for The Narrows but still awful, nonetheless.

Three weeks since she'd been kidnapped and it had taken a midnight shift change, slight of hand, and impeccable hand-eye coordination before she'd been able to stab one of her guards with a tranquilizer dart.

Chloe crossed her arms. At least her healing powers were still with her. She had the scars from the fat needles they'd continuously jabbed her with to prove it. What should have taken several days to scab over and heal took a matter of hours for her. In retrospect, it didn't prove the least bit helpful. When the people working on her discovered the ability, they'd only increased the testings.

Clearly, Project 33.1 was still very much alive.

She grunted and winced. Her toe had unwittingly kicked up a rock. Now, her foot just hurt that much more, her arm was sore as all hell, she smelled like bovine dump, and she was hungry. Her stomach growled that deep rumbling pitch, threatening to push her into eating something - probably something not meant to be eaten - if she didn't find her own sustenance soon.

Wrapping the coat tighter around herself, Chloe stepped off the road and into the bushes. After all of those hours staring and studying the urban schematics of this city, she hoped she remembered enough to get to where she had in mind without being the latest Gotham victim.

Xxxxx

"I promise to fix your gate in the morning."

Alfred blinked, crossbow in hand pointed steadily at their midnight visitor. Guns weren't allowed in the estate and since he wasn't as handy with the nightstick as the other inhabitant was, this was his choice of weaponry.

She clutched her shoulder and seemed to be favoring her left foot. Her face was covered with scratches and dirt. In fact, there wasn't a part of her that wasn't covered with something…earthy.

Once his eyes separated the girl from the nature that covered her skin, clothes, and hair, he dropped the weapon, eyes wide with surprise. "What about the gate?"

She opened her mouth but immediately closed it again, making a swirly-motion with her finger. He wasn't sure how that could have told him anything. Regardless, the worry that came with finally seeing the face they'd been searching for the past three weeks took precedence. Alert eyes assessed her physical shape. Before he could welcome her in, another figure stepped out from the shadows. Body coiled and ready to spring, there was no nightstick, batarang, nothing. Bruce Wayne was deadly enough with his hands alone.

As soon as he took note of Alfred's expression, he stepped back. Followed by the imminent collapse of their night-time visitor, Bruce hurried to the lithe figure's side and caught her in his arms before she split her head open on the marble steps. Through the knots of blonde hair and dirt on her face, he came to the same conclusion Alfred had come to seconds prior.

"Master Wayne, let me take care of Miss Sullivan." Alfred pried her from the young man's arms, hurrying inside.

Bruce nodded. "I'll call Queen."

Xxxxx

Even through the haze of a faint-turned-medically induced sleep, she could tell Clark and Oliver were arguing. The door was partially open and she could see Oliver glaring stone-cold at Clark. Farm versus city; the differences between them were vast. Clark dealt with his anger more directly while Oliver had a tendency to wait quietly and go straight for the jugular at the right moment.

"It's a wonder they can even work on the same team." A smooth baritone sounded from her right.

Chloe turned her head and blinked sleepily at the man. "I'm used to it by now." Her voice was raspy and only half the words had come out but he understood it just fine. Damn. Water would be nice right now.

"They've been going at it for about an hour now." As if reading her mind, he produced a glass of water whilst checking his wristwatch at the same time.

No surprise there. Clark really liked rehashing the same things over and over. She rolled her eyes.

Smiling congenially, he leaned forward and set the book he'd been reading on the bedside table. "We've never been introduced - " smirk, " - not formally anyway. I'm Bruce Wayne." There was a knowing look in his eyes.

Chloe gave an apologetic grin. "Hi."

"Here." He held a glass of water up to her lips and she sipped generously. She pushed the glass away and wiped her lips. He placed it back on the nightstand before leaning in again. "Better?"

Chloe nodded, glancing surreptitiously at the door where Oliver now had his hand up, finger jabbing in the air at Clark, finally shooting remarks of his own.

"They'll be fine." He waved nonchalantly at them. "I think I'm suppose to tell them that you're up but eh," he shrugged, "I sort of like having the attention of a beautiful woman all to myself. Plus, I don't think either of them realize how absolutely ridiculous they look in their pajamas."

Chloe glanced over. Sure enough, both were still in their sleepwear. Atleast Oliver had thrown on a pair of wrinkled jeans. Clark still sported his flannel robe. They must have rushed right over. She arched an eyebrow at him. "Please."

Bruce only flashed his most charismatic grin. "If I had known you were part of the whole 'joining the JL'-package, I would've signed right up."

Chloe threw him a look of disbelief.

"Great work on the Riddler-bombs by the way." He had that knowing look again. This time, there was a bit of chastising sprinkled in.

Before she could open her mouth and respond, Clark's super-sensitive hearing had finally kicked in and he threw open the door without minding his strength any. Oliver snuck past him and crossed the wide room quicker than normal. Hands covered her face, hair, and eyes checked the monitors Dr. Hamilton had set up in the Wayne Manor. His worry-lined features seemed to lighten with relief after a while. He shot a glare at Bruce before leaning down and pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Welcome back, Sidekick."

Clark stayed at the doorway. "Hey."

Chloe gave him an arched look. "I promise I won't bite."

He hesitated and scratched his head nervously. "It's not that."

Confused, she looked to Oliver and Bruce for answers.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Turns out you're something like a walking piece of kryptonite. So…"

Ah. That made sense. No wonder she spent most of her time in captivity sitting next to a large, glowing, green rock.Another one-over and she noticed the sheen of sweat covering her best friend's upper lip. Pursing her lips, she made a shoo-ing motion with her arm. "Keep away, you."

Xxxxx

"You're going to let her stay in Gotham?" Clark's hands were on his hips as he watched Oliver sift through the items they had been able to salvage.

Grinding his teeth, the blond jerked on his heel. "Alright, you convince her to come back. You can explain to Lois why you can't visit her cousin even though the two of you are supposedly best friends. You can go into missions sans Watchtower until we get this mess -," his arms swung, motioning to the destroyed room, " – cleaned up."

Clark opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. "Well, do you trust him?"

Oliver turned around and continued packing. Clark wouldn't like his answer. He trusted Batman. He did not trust Bruce Wayne. "You know Chloe, once she sets her mind to something, it's impossible to convince her otherwise."

"What's he having her do while she's there?"

"Strengthening his security system until we figure out what happened. She's allowed to use them for the time being and continue being Watchtower for us. Once the parts Cyborg ordered comes in, she can return to the clock tower. By then, hopefully you guys can stand in the same room together."

Why Bruce Wayne of Wayne Industries - parent company of WayneTech, a leader in world's technological industry - would need help when he could have easily asked someone or dealt with the issue himself was the exact reason he didn't trust the smarmy bastard.

Though, Chloe was the best.

But he didn't know that. Or he shouldn't.

Oliver shoved another wire into the bag.

Trust her to hack a seemingly impenetrable system. He was more pissed that she had been helping Batman at the same time they were on a mission when he only hired her for JL-stuff. There was no JL and Batman. It was JL only.

The only reason he'd even asked his old schoolmate was because he'd been outvoted by the JL. If he remembered correctly, the Boy Scout was one of the only ones who had voiced his opposition in the first place. Good thing Clark didn't know about her other activities that night.

It probably had more to do with Clark's inability to comprehend that 'saving the world' was not just a one-man job. Oliver just didn't like the man. Plus, he wasn't up for another lecture from the Boy-Wonder about how much danger he was always putting Chloe in.

Please. He wasn't the one whose powers Zod and Tess were after.

Clark's cell phone rang. The man picked it up and winced at the name that flashed across the screen. "It's Lois."