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Clark couldn’t help, but look at his subject for his next article. He’d been assigned the task because he was often the one best able to get anything out of the enigmatic Edith Wayne. Looking back on it, he could understand why .
After all, Edith Wayne was his teammate, Batman.
And wasn’t that still mind boggling? The woman who presented herself as a reclusive billionaire with a strong love of Gotham and her people was the I am Vengeance, I am the Night goddamn Batman.
During previous interviews, she spoke in this soft, high pitched voice that almost felt as though it would be snuffed by the wind if it weren’t for Clark’s super hearing. Batman, on the other hand, had a deep baritone voice that was smooth, and had a rumble to it. Now, Edith spoke with that deep baritone, though a few pitches higher than her Batman voice. It was a beautiful sound, one Clark couldn’t get enough of.
“So, Ms. Wayne—” Edith sighed, their little game unchanging.
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Edith, Clark? Ms. Wayne makes me sound so old .” She clicked her tongue, but there was a wisp of a smile on her lips; it was odd how easily the persona of Edith and Batman clashed with one another, but Clark could tell they were simply facets of the whole person. Someone so complex Clark wanted to eagerly learn more to understand what made Edith Wayne tick.
“Ah, sorry—Edith, what is your current plan to assist with the housing crisis in Gotham?” Clark already knows the answer to this question, Edith has gone about the topic at length with Selina by her side. The cat burglar was as smart as a whip, easily providing insight regarding Gotham’s underbelly that neither of the two would consider. Gentrifying Crime Alley, the Narrows and Bowery wouldn’t solve any of the housing crisis, in fact, it would only double the homelessness. People would be ousted from their homes, as unsafe as they were, and they would have their rent hiked in the process.
But they couldn’t leave the apartments as they were. They were fire hazards and had serious mold issues.
They needed to do repairs, without completely destroying the pre-existing structures. It would be difficult, but it was doable. It was a much more preferable outcome than mass evictions across Gotham City. It was a ten year timeline so far, to have the residents leave their homes while they’re brought up to code. Edith knows the cost of rent will be increased with the repairs. How to resolve that issue has been difficult, so as not to have the current residents evicted. Making them free homes has been considered, and they will turn the condemned complexes into free homes, but with the amount of repairs, it’s unfortunately not a possibility, as much as they want to provide free housing. There’s the possibility of offering stipends with people who want assistance from the Martha Wayne foundation, and so far that option seems the most sound. There’s the fear the funds will be taken and used for… other purposes, but Edith could not let that fear of misuse of funds stop her from starting it.
Clark had taken down many notes, and thought the project was a noble deed, and not one many would undertake. But Clark knew… Edith loves Gotham with all her heart, and she will do anything for her city.
…
Tonight, her armour is not kevlar and cape, but high heels and makeup. She paints her face in a manner that befits the image Edith Wayne embodies: a macabre woman, dressed in black. There are no bold colours to be found, unlike many other socialites at these galas. Her eyes are done in silver, while her lips are tainted red. The dress she wears is long and black, with batwing sleeves. Some call her the modern Morticia Addams; Edith can only see that as a compliment.
She stands at the podium in front of the crowd, making a prepared speech regarding unity and empathy to garner support for the low income housing of Gotham’s most vulnerable. Her lips craft tales of sympathy, and they must be magic, for the elite donate to her cause gladly. Though, she knows it’s only so they can pat themselves on the back, parading their good deeds to others of their ilk. See, I care! They will say, but only care when the camera rolls, where the people see and where they will sing.
Edith sees them in the underbelly of the beast.
…
The gala, while successful in raising its goal, had also been a total disaster. There had been an auction portion for the charity, after the meal, which had drawn the attention of Magpie. An easy rogue to deal with, but still a bit of a nuisance.
Dick had been able to sneak away and handle her while Edith simply stared the fighting down with her impartial gaze, something that often unsettled the criminals heisting the galas she visited. She was ‘uncomfortable’ and ‘creepy’, as though she was gazing into their very soul. Frankly, she was just judging them for their actions.
Though, she understood why people resorted to theft. Gotham wasn’t an easy city to live in, it was a kill or be killed world out there on the streets. There was no safety net for the vulnerable, only sweet whispers of salvation turned to debt and servitude on the darker side of life.
Magpie was not one such person. But she needed help. Something Edith hoped Arkham would be able to provide her, but the current track record was rather disheartening. It felt like a revolving door: Batman brings them in, they stay locked up, don’t get the help they need, escape and cause chaos again.
Even worse, those meant to help become the victims . Dr. Harleen Quinzel had been a bright woman with a promising career, but they put her with the Joker .
Joker tested her morals on the daily. Batman does not kill. Batman does not kill . It’s a line that cannot be crossed.
Here she was now, at the Batcomputer after the events of the Gala writing her report after debriefing with Robin. She allowed him to leave early, and write his report tomorrow. It was already late, and a school night, making him stay up later to write a report would not be beneficial for his academic career.
She finished up her own report and saved it to her database, making a slight note to add the reference to Robin’s report once it’s been completed.
“A little birdie told me there was a loot goblin tonight.” Edith looked up, seeing her girlfriend lean lazily along the back of the batchair.
“Magpie. She wanted the sterling pocket watch engraved with her namesake.” Edith relaxed into the chair, feeling the tension leaving her shoulders as she let out a pleased sigh. “Her skills barely compare to yours, love.”
Selina leaned around the chair to place a chaste kiss along Edith’s lips. “You flatter me.” The younger woman moved around the chair, slowly spinning it so the two women were facing one another. Face to face, Selina reached out to grab Edith’s calloused hands and pull her up onto her feet. “Now, let’s get to bed. Arcturus was not happy his mommy wasn’t there to give him his nighttime scratchies.” The older woman gave a soft smile, knowing their little army of cats were always so sassy and needy. Arcturus was especially fond of her, and as Selina said, got quite temperamental when she wasn’t there to pet him.
Maybe it was time she turned in too, after all she had another morning interview with one Clark Kent.