"What do you mean they all got caught?" Carmine pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Uh… well, they're in the cells, boss," his idiot assistant said.
"No shit, you idiot!" Carmine slammed his fist onto the desk. "What I'm asking is how twenty different dirty cops got caught in the span of a single afternoon. They'd been working fine without a trace, so what the hell happened?"
The families each paid good money and spent plenty of resources buttering up some of those pigs. That was simply how the game was played.
There were plenty on the force who sold information to the highest bidder, but for more nuanced work, it was common for the families to invest in certain officers for the long run.
Some of those relationships went all the way back to the nineties.
It had been easier back then, but with the Bat around and that schmuck Gordon taking over, getting high-ranking officers was harder than ever.
Even then, the Falcone family never let that stop them. They'd had three detectives and even the Deputy Chief in their pockets.
They had survived Gordon's pointless little purges just fine and helped keep the Falcones at the top.
But now…
"We don't know. All we got is a rumor that Gordon caught them all and made them cry like babies, boss. All the cops are going crazy about it."
Goddammit. He should have put a bullet in that bastard's head years ago. Carmine grabbed a glass and poured himself a drink.
"At least the little union bastard is dead, even if it cost us an arm and a leg," Carmine grunted, taking a sip to dull the edge.
"...About that." His assistant looked down.
Carmine's grip tightened around the glass as he locked onto the man.
"He is dead. Right?"
"There was a traffic jam on the Trigate Bridge. The mercenaries we hired got caught up in it. It's not our fault. It was just bad luck…" the idiot blurted out, sweating. "The Bat caught them, and the middleman's dead, so there's nothing to trace back to—"
"Get. Out."
The idiot paused and stuttered. "Uh… what should I tell the other dons?"
"GET OUT!"
Carmine hurled the whiskey glass. The babbling idiot ducked, and it shattered against the office wall.
The man quickly fled the office like a coward.
Useless idiots.
All that money and all those favors burned for what? Just to make a fool of himself.
He heard the floor creak.
"I told you to get the hell—"
Carmine froze as he came face-to-face with an owl-masked assassin.
Shit.
His hand moved for the pistol under his desk.
"Don't." A sword was already at his neck. "You have failed your task."
"I can still—"
"Silence." The owl-masked freak's voice was cold and flat. "Those more fit shall take over your assignment in slaying the upstart. If you still wish to enter the halls of the Court, you will do as you are told."
Carmine gritted his teeth, then let out a slow breath. "What do you need me to do?"
"Prepare your men." The freak sheathed his sword. "Rally the rest of the crime families as well. You are to attack their production facilities. If you succeed, all will be forgiven."
"When and where?" Carmine grunted as he rubbed his eyes. He would have to put pressure on the other families, especially after this debacle.
"That is not for you to know. Simply be ready."
"I—" Carmine looked up again and found himself alone.
Fucking… ninja bastards.
—
I simply watched as Poison Ivy furiously jotted down notes. The little second-floor office space in the warehouse had turned into an impromptu science lab, with piles of materials scattered all over the floor at the villainess's command.
Even now, her eyes had the look of a woman possessed.
At the center of the chaos sat the Recycling Can, a simple, blue metal bin that reached about to my head.
Ivy stood on a little step ladder, holding a ball of plastic, glass, and roots she had cobbled together. It looked like an abomination, dozens of cracked and mismatched pieces fused into one ugly lump.
She lifted the lid of the can and dropped her creation in.
Almost the instant it disappeared inside, materials began appearing at the bottom in neat little piles. Despite the unholy mess she had tossed in, the can spat out clean, organized stacks of glass, plastic, and roots, each perfectly separated from the others.
"This… this is crazy." Ivy set down her notes, and I could see her hands trembling. "One of the biggest problems with recycling is efficiency. Cross-contamination of materials is one of the biggest barriers to fully functional recycling operations."
"Like when somebody throws an oily food bag in with paper, right?"
"Exactly." She started pacing back and forth. "Lack of environmental consciousness means any large-scale recycling operation becomes incredibly costly. Sorting out certain contaminants just is not possible past a certain point. Microplastics, oils, melted glass. But this… this changes everything. I can heal the world with this."
I knew she was environmentally focused, but wow, she was really into this. Gotta respect that kind of devotion, even if it was a little scary.
Poison Ivy suddenly turned and stared at me like I was a piece of meat.
"I need this." Ivy grabbed my shoulders and looked straight into my eyes. "I'll do anything for it. Name your price—"
"You can have it."
"I know we may not—" She paused. "Wait… just like that?"
"Yep." I shot her a thumbs-up. "I was gonna use it to help fix stuff around Gotham, but if you want to use it to fight pollution and littering, be my guest."
"…You don't want anything at all?"
"Nah, we're cool." Then I remembered. "Oh, right, that too." I pointed at the redhorn pitcher sitting in the corner. "You can take the pitcher too. Infinite fresh water has gotta be super useful for plants, right?"
Poison Ivy just stared at me for a long moment, her eyes drifting toward the two items.
I raised an eyebrow as Ivy turned toward the office door and shut it behind her. The click of the lock sounded oddly loud before she strode back toward me.
What is she—
Green hands cupped my face, and then soft lips met mine.
I froze for half a second before my hands found her waist and held on. The kiss was slow at first, warm and deliberate, but it deepened fast enough. She tasted sweet and dangerous, and the way she pressed into me made it very clear what she wanted.
When she finally leaned back, both of us were left catching our breath.
"...Not complaining at all, but aren't you and Harley a thing now?"
"Harls says it's fine as long as I record it and show it to her later." Ivy blushed and looked away.
"Probably not the smartest thing to say right now, but your girl is genuinely insane. " I chuckled.
"You can keep talking, or…" Ivy stuck her tongue out at me as she stepped back.
She raised her arms and slipped off her top with her back turned to me, then glanced over her shoulder and sashayed toward the couch in the office.
I lifted my hands in mock surrender, grinning as I did.
My phone buzzed, and I tensed for a second as I checked my texts.
Bestgirl Simmy: Crazy bitch Shiva on the roof across from you, watching. Interfere?
I spoke quietly to the air, knowing she could hear me.
"Let her watch. Just don't let her interrupt."
***
Comments and Thoughts would be greatly appreciated. Likes are like a drug to me and boost my creative juices.
I have advanced chapters on my Pa tre on/daisyberry if you wanna read ahead.
I'll be sticking with three chapters a week from now on.