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Passion	By : Loreley Category: DC Verse Cartoons > Batman Beyond Views: 9472 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman Beyond, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
A/N: Don’t own Batman Beyond, but anything new is mine!
Thanks to Casshan for the review (hugs).

The VP

            The first thought that came to Lora’s mind was She’s the Vice President of Epithet?
            The first thought that came to Amanda Hunt’s mind as she studied Lora was She’s the woman Shawn believed could run his company?
            The first thought that came to Dane’s mind was Damn, another hot woman I can’t have.
            An awkward silence hung in the air for several moments after Amanda’s little introduction because it was Lora’s place to acknowledge her, but Lora was momentarily struck speechless. The redhead looked more suited to the role of mistress rather then VP. Then again, perhaps that was how she had obtained the position in the first place, Lora reflected with bitterness. After all, Lora’s mother Cindy had been a redhead. Shawn had a real weakness for them, it seemed.
            Dane was still hiding in his secret alcove, and he couldn’t reveal himself without startling the visitor. Even from a distance he could feel how troubled Lora was, though for the life of him he had no idea what was upsetting her.
            Lora fought to give this woman the benefit of the doubt, it was none of her business what her father did after her mother died anyway. She did not like the woman showing up at her home uninvited, however. And furthermore, how did Amanda even know where to find her? Lora had severed contact with her father long ago. “I see,” Lora finally replied, not bothering to invite the woman in. “I was under the impression my…father was dead.”
            Amanda blinked at her in surprise, the artificial smile on her face fading. “He is.”
            “Ah, so he’s controlling the company from beyond the grave then,” Lora mused, knowing she was being bitchy but unable to help it. Anything that had to do with Shawn or his precious company Epithet put her in a foul mood.
            Amanda cleared her throat nervously, realizing there was more to Lora then she had initially surmised. She had been led to believe the woman was a lazy, somewhat spacey trophy wife. Apparently Lora had a brain. She had certainly inherited her father’s biting sarcasm. “Actually, he left explicit instructions in his will that I seek you out upon his death,” Amanda informed her.
            “Really,” Lora commented in a tone that clearly indicated she had no interest in listening to whatever it was Amanda had to say. “How like him to be domineering to the very last. It’s a pity you wasted your time coming out here. I’m not interested in anything you have to say. I intend to run the company how I see fit, and not according to the dictates of a dead man.”
            Lora’s bitter words caught Amanda off guard, although she knew they shouldn’t have. It had been no secret there was no love lost between Shawn Knightly and his heiress. Still, she had come on behalf of Epithet, Shawn, and more importantly, herself. As Vice President of Epithet, her financial wellbeing was tied directly to the company’s, and she was going to make damn sure the advertising monolith continued running at optimum levels. No spoiled little daughter was going to ruin her future. “Are you sure that’s wise? Your father sent me here because he knew you would need assistance in making decisions regarding a business as complex as Epithet. He was the most successful businessman in his field, perhaps you would be wise to at least listen to the advice he has instructed me to give you.”
            Dane sucked in a sharp breath and nearly choked, knowing exactly how Lora was going to react to such a comment. He hastily holstered his guns, aware that he might have to restrain her from killing the redhead.
            Lora stiffened and her eyes narrowed as she glared at the tall, striking woman in her doorway. “Perhaps you would be wise to keep suggestions to yourself. I told you I’m not interested in anything you have to say. All I want to know is how you managed to find me.”
            Amanda was seething with fury by the time Lora finished speaking. How dare such a worthless little housewife speak to her that way! With great pleasure, she replied, “Why, from your husband of course.”
            Lora stepped back as if she had been physically struck, her face going deathly pale, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?”
            Amanda knew Lora had filed for separation from her husband years before, and like everyone she knew the girl had been practically sold to Maximus in exchange for a partnership between his company and Shawn’s. It was easy to conclude Lora would not be fond of her husband, but it seemed as if she were terrified, repelled and in awe of him all at once, judging by her reaction. “I contacted Maximus Carlton when I was unable to locate you and he gave me your address. I’m certain he felt it was appropriate for him to do so, since he knew you had inherited Epithet upon your father’s death and I made it clear to him I wanted to contact you regarding a business matter.”
            Lora wasn’t really listening to Amanda, she was too busy sorting out what the woman’s earlier words meant. She had suspected Maximus knew where she was, but to have it confirmed was something entirely different. Her first instinct was to flee, like she had always done in the past, because experience had taught her that once Max found her he couldn’t resist paying visits to her. But if she ran, he would only find her again. And she knew that even though it pissed Maximus off when she disappeared for months at a time, she also knew he got a perverse sense of enjoyment out of the power he had over her, the fear he inspired in her. Lora had fought against that fear for years, but it was much more difficult to conquer an inner demon then a living person. There was no running from herself. Lora put on a brave front for the world, but the simple truth was that she had lived under the rule of Maximus for so long, and been so manipulated by him both physically and emotionally, that she was a spineless coward when it came to her husband. She might occasionally get the nerve to do something brave once she had been pushed far enough, such as walk out on him, or have affairs, but when it came to face to face confrontations with him, she was truly pathetic.
Lora knew better than anyone how quickly he could succumb to madness, how irrational he could be. Over the years, she had come to understand that she was not only his most prized possession, as he’d admitted he’d originally intended her to be. She was also his love, his one and only, and he worshipped her with the intensity of the fanatic he was. He would do anything to have her, to control her, to please her. Even if it meant hurting her first. And no one knew more about inflicting pain then Maximus, at least that was what she believed. Lora was dimly aware that she was on the verge of hyperventilating. She was having a hard time drawing breath, and she was starting to feel distinctly dizzy.
Amanda actually began to feel concerned for the other woman. She had told Lora about Maximus helping her because she had wanted to get back at the woman for her bitchiness, but she hadn’t intended on causing her to have a panic attack. “Are you ok?”
Lora simply blinked at her, starting to gasp for air.
“Hey, breathe,” Amanda snapped, reaching out to grab the other woman as Lora started to sway in place.
Dane couldn’t take it any more. He holstered his hand guns and then slid out of the alcove, but Amanda was so engrossed in what was going on with Lora that she didn’t notice him until he had stepped around her to pull Lora into a steadying embrace.
Amanda gave a small gasp of surprise at his sudden appearance and hissed, “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Lora’s bodyguard,” he calmly replied, thinking Amanda Hunt was one fine looking piece.
Amanda scowled at him, vaguely recalling that Shawn had mentioned Lora did indeed have a bodyguard. “You could have told me you were behind me.”
“Why? It would have startled you no matter what I did, since you didn’t know I was here,” Dane blandly remarked before leaning down to whisper to Lora, “Take it easy now. Breathe. There’s a good girl.”
It was a strangely endearing scene: the giant of a man cradling the small woman in his arms with obvious concern, and despite her initial dislike of Lora, Amanda couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. The woman had led one terrible life, and was undeniably scarred by it. “I think I’ll stop by tomorrow. I still have to find a hotel and get settled in,” Amanda told Dane, starting to back out of the house.
Lora raised her head from Dane’s chest and cast a sorrowful, bone weary look in her direction. “There’s no need for you to stay in a hotel. There are plenty of rooms in Donovan Hall.”
Amanda blinked at the other woman, certain she hadn’t heard her correctly.
Lora managed to fix a wavering smile on her face and said, “I insist you stay here. You came on behalf of…my father and Epithet, and you were kind to try and help me.”
Amanda was starting to feel like an ass for what she’d said, but damn it, the woman was irritating and mouthy. She really didn’t want to accept Lora’s offer, but she knew to do otherwise would be terribly rude, and like it or not she had to find a way to get along with the other woman. Amanda fixed a bright smile on her face and said, “Thank you for your hospitality.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Terry decided to hit the weights after slamming down a six pack of beer under the displeased glare of Bruce. Though Wayne could empathize with a broken heart, he generally did not approve of drinking oneself into oblivion. At the moment, Terry didn’t care what Bruce did or did not approve of, but the beer hadn’t managed to take the edge off his anger, so he thought a little physical exertion might cool him off. He spent two hours running through a vigorous work out, but no matter how much weight he threw up on the bench press, or balanced doing squats, or lashed into at the hip sled, he couldn’t get the truth out of his head.
Lora Carlton loved her husband.
Her physically perfect psychopath.
She had to be a little crazy to care about that creep, but Terry had to be crazy himself to want her, he supposed.
Coming to the conclusion that weight lifting wasn’t doing him any good, he decided to go out and find some Jokerz to beat on. Physical combat was very tempting at the moment, even knowing that later tonight he was going to be meeting up with Lora. He had to shake some of his anger, or he was going to say something stupid when he saw her, and at the moment he didn’t want to fight with her since she was already angry at Allen. No need for him to alienate himself on both fields. He took the Bat Jet out and toured Gotham for a matter of minutes before finding a pack of the low life thugs that had named themselves after a deranged criminal mastermind. Beating them up was like taking candy from a baby, but it felt good to actually hit something, to unleash his violence without remorse, and ironically to achieve something good for the city while doing it. A few of the Jokerz got in some lucky punches, but in the end he left them bound up in a bloody pile on the steps of a police station. Terry was in a much better mood when he returned to Wayne Manor. Bruce arched an eyebrow at his cheerful smile and his bruised face.
“All better I see,” he drawled in his driest voice.
Terry grinned, refusing to be chastised. “Yep. Nothing like a little crime fighting to put a smile on your face.”
Translation: he’d kicked some ass and worked out his aggression. Bruce gave a noncommittal grunt and then watched as Terry wolfed down a quick dinner, still wearing his Batman costume sans mask. “Are you going out again tonight? One good deed not enough for you?”
“Hey Bruce, you know this town never sleeps. There’s always someone somewhere who needs my attention,” Terry responded in a deliberately ambiguous way, unable to resist having a private joke on the old man. It was mistake. Bruce was the Batman, after all, and no one knew double meanings better then he. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out Terry was going to see his little obsession.
Bruce decided to hold his tongue for the moment. He hoped Terry wasn’t reckless enough to actually visit the woman dressed as Batman, but having been a young male himself once, and doing something similar, he hardly had room to chastise the boy. Consequently, Bruce said nothing when Terry exited the kitchen a few minutes later, but he was scowling as he rubbed Ace II behind the ears and muttered, “I hope he knows what he’s getting himself into old boy.”
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- 13
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Passion