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A perfect vantage point	By : Kip Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 4301 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-A perfect vantage point
- 2-Meeting
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- 2
Warning! Humour...
It was the perfect vantage point. The small balcony overlooked the harbour, while the shadows made it almost impossible for anyone to see him standing here while he was wearing the dark armour. For almost two weeks, he climbed the side wall of the building nightly and lowered himself silently down onto the small space.
With his luck, he should have known it was too good to last…
He'd just settled in for another evening of waiting to see if Killer Croc would emerge from hiding to menace Gotham again, when the light behind him went on and the air conditioning unit kicked in for a moment and then died.
Oh shit… The apartment was no longer empty… No one would try and put the air-con on just to burgle the place, would they? So obviously the rightful tenant was now in residence…
Drawing back right into the corner, he prepared to try and explain how come he, the Batman, was standing on an inauspicious balcony waiting for a hint of a super criminal…
Just a few paces from his left knee the window reluctantly ground open a couple of inches.
"Yes, Jessie! I hear you," A pleasant female voice insisted, "but I had to put the phone down. Why? Because the window was stuck… Yes, I have the grille in place. This IS Gotham… So why do I what? Oh? Want the window open? Sorry, the reception's absolutely terrible tonight… Mmm? Oh yes, because it's about 200 degrees in here and the air-con's still not been fixed – yes, still… and the flat's not been aired for a fortnight…"
There was a telling pause.
"And I'm just about to run out of coins for the meter…" The voice announced with evident resignation.
The light died.
"Bugger," The same sweet voice said soulfully. "Yes, talk soon, honey. Bye …"
Biting his lip to stifle a smile, the Big Bad Bat stood there, in the half-dark and mulled over his options. He could tap on the window, introduce himself, and ask if it was alright if he used the place for surveillance. Yeah – right… The woman might have underworld connections for all he knew…
He could make a quick break for it, and hope that the occupant didn’t happen to be looking in his direction… but with the lights out in the flat and the floodlights of the docks colouring almost the entire sky, the slightest movement out here would be almost certainly be instantly noticed… And he really did NOT want to get a reputation for being a peeping tom…
There were some parts of this town where being named as a voyeur would be a distinct improvement to the Batman's current ratings, but the idea of getting a city-wide reputation as 'the costumed perv who stares in women's windows at night' was really not something he cared to think about. Besides, Alfred would be horrified… Most of Gotham hadn't a clue about who was under the mask, but if Alfred was upset then not only was Bruce not going to get breakfast in bed, but he was likely to find himself being served his laundry, finely chopped and stewed; on a plate, instead of dinner… That old man had some VERY strange ways of getting a point across.
Which left Bruce with only one viable option – he would have to wait here until the lady retired for the night, hope that she didn’t decide to step out on the balcony and admire the view first… and then sneak away undetected.
Casting a critical eye around the visible skyline, from the gasworks on the far left over the sewage treatment plant, the docks, and then the rear end of one of the larger canning plants, the Batman subtly crossed his fingers and hoped that his inadvertent hostess had better taste than her current location suggested.
Another window slid begrudgingly open, then another. The sounds of movement from inside the flat were tantalising. A zipper… too long and loud to be clothing… a suitcase of sorts? His guess was quickly confirmed by the clatter of hangers in a wardrobe, and the solid 'thud' of drawers being refilled and closed.
Back from vacation then? Pressed tight against the brickwork, he waited. Inside the noises dwindled. Running water somewhere and something whirring. Ah! The lady preferred an electric toothbrush. The toilet flushed. No need to speculate overly about that… She did wash her hands after though, as the sink ran again. Hygienic then?
As he stood there, he wondered what this mysterious female looked like? Probably about eighteen stone and over fifty, too much to expect anything much better than that. According to the statistics seventy percent of the people who lived in this area were in the low income bracket, and many were obese. Although she hadn't sounded out of breath while talking on the cell phone or opening the window, so maybe not? Could still be over fifty though, he reminded himself, and one of those stick-thin old prunes…
Since he was rapidly grossing himself out with that particular topic, he decided to concentrate on waiting for whoever was in there to retire for the night, and then make his own retreat. Croc wasn’t going to show this evening by the look of it, and the idea of an early night was beginning to really appeal… A bath wouldn’t come amiss either. It really was swelteringly hot, and being encased in full armour wasn’t ideal in this weather. The woman in the apartment might not be able to hear or see him, but much longer out here and she would almost certainly be able to SMELL him…
Tilting his head, he listened. Ah, that sounded like someone climbing into bed, didn’t it? No lights to turn out… No bedside clock alarm to set. Should be quite quick now then… But what was that … buzzing? Surely she wasn’t using the toothbrush in bed? Not quite the same sort of pitch though… more…
Oh!
Despite the fact that no one else should have the slightest idea he was out here, let alone listening, Bruce felt his face heat up as it occurred to him exactly what sort of small battery powered device a woman might choose to use in the privacy of her own bedroom… while in her bed, in fact… The creaking of bedsprings was perfectly audible in the quiet of the late evening.
It was at that exact second that he also realised just how wrong he was. God, he hadn't realised that his mind was that dirty! Closing his eyes in mortification he stood there, flustered, listening to the whine of a small hand-held battery-powered travel fan, and wondering exactly how long he was going to hold onto his reputation as the World's Greatest Detective if he continued to leap to such ridiculous conclusions without the slightest shred of evidence?
When the sounds of soft breathing echoed out through the windows, he gathered his wits and his courage, and took a tentative step toward his escape route. Something halted him in his tracks. He wasn’t intending to come here ever again, but he wouldn’t be the Batman if he wasn’t incurably nosy…
I've got no right to be doing this… He reminded himself quite sternly. I'm already trespassing… One foot just seemed to edge closer to the window without him actually meaning to. Then the other. Damn. Well, he was standing here now, and…
I'll just see what she looks like… Check that she's not on the 'Wanted' list… Probably someone's sweet white-haired old grandmother anyway…
Peering very carefully in through the security grille, which he noticed, with some concern, was composed of slightly more rust than metal, he cast a wary glance into the darkened interior.
Well, THAT was spectacularly pointless, wasn’t it? And so was holding one-sided conversations. He really did not want to get into the habit of talking to himself. Do that with Alfred around, he'd more than likely get calmly stared at… or even worse… the dreaded disapproving 'eyebrow raise'…
He must be tired, otherwise he would have realised that, with the interior of the apartment in complete darkness, he didn’t have a hope of seeing anything of the occupant. Unless…
That really isn't what the night vision lenses were intended for… Hounding hardened criminals is one thing, but using them to spy on middle aged women in sensible nighties is quite another… He chided himself mentally, although he already had the feeling that he was going to ignore that bit of advice as well.
Except, when he blinked and looked, the woman lying stretched out asleep on the fitted cotton base sheet was neither middle aged, unshapely, nor wearing any sort of sensible nightwear…
Unless you count a birthday suit… His astonished mind just had time to make that observation, before his very hasty, and hopefully ultra-silent, retreat cut off any sort of view through the partly open window.
Given the heat that evening, the young lady's state of near-undress certainly was VERY sensible… And had that been a thong?
Not my usual stuff... Comments please...
'Purr
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A perfect vantage point