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Another from my current comic phase. The sequel to "In the Bat of the Claw" Bat the Claw By Bill Hart Bruce smiled as he looked at his still sleeping wife. She was just so beautiful. Was it any wonder he loved her? Last night Elektra had once again been that totally incredible lover he'd married. She was nearly insatiable. But then, she had always been. Any time he thought about how the man she'd once been had vowed to fight him any way she could and every step of the way, Bruce couldn't help but smile. Even then, he'd known what his wife's former self hadn't and couldn't have guessed. There was simply no way she could have ever hoped to fight the spell. Dr. Strangefate himself had told him that the spell was unbreakable once cast. He'd also warned that it was not to be used against friends. He'd been absolutely right. Bruce had never doubted what the arcane master Strangefate had told him. In the past several weeks, Elektra, as her alternate ego Katra, had been busily training Robin in the martial arts. They'd been close before. However, Elektra had shown no signs of reverting whenever she'd been with Stephanie. In fact, their instructor-pupil relationship was slowly evolving into something more akin to being sisters. That was simply perfect; it would strengthen the effect of the spell. Clearly, just as Dr. Strangefate had explained the workings of the spell, his wife recalled nothing of having once been the Bruce Wayne or the Batman of this reality. Oddly, she had gained some knowledge she hadn't possessed before, but that was of little real concern. Her newfound knowledge would simply help them in their ongoing fight against the Foul One. Elektra's sole interest in the new Bruce Wayne he'd become was now apparently as her lover and husband. She fit into those two roles just perfectly. His place - Bruce's place - in this world was absolutely secure now. Even this reality's Justice League - an odd mix of heroes reminiscent of his own Judgment League Avengers - had accepted him into their ranks without question. Elektra's place beside him was equally secure. Of course, she wasn't exactly the same Elektra she'd been when they'd first been married. That didn't surprise Bruce, since he knew she wasn't the same woman. His wife had perished in the destruction of their world by the Foul One. She had only recently, after using this world's Bruce Wayne as raw material, been reborn. Now Elektra had returned to him, as he'd always known she would. Fortunately, this world's Bruce Wayne had chosen against being his friend and ally. Not that there was anyone who would ever notice, there were some subtle differences between his two Elektra's. It had been impossible to alter the underlying pattern that defined the old Bruce into an exact match with the pattern of being that was his world's Elektra. Actually, he could have easily matched his pattern with hers exactly. The spell for doing so was simple child's play. There were other problems that had complicated things. Elektra's exact pattern, just as his had, already existed here. Here her synchronous dimensional counterpart was known as Selina Kyle. He'd made simple minor changes in his Elektra's pattern of being that would distinguish her from Selina. Those simple changes allowed both of them to co-exist in this world. Neither would ever need to know of the other. Only then, had he cast that pattern over the former Bruce Wayne. The initial effect of that casting was the most noticeable. Once the new pattern had been absorbed into he who had been Batman, it had swiftly superseded and overwritten the physical pattern already present. As a result, the pattern governing the Bruce Wayne of this reality had been readily replaced with that of his Elektra. The transformation from his former male pattern to her new female pattern had been nearly instantaneous. It was also irrevocable. Bruce still remembered the surprise his former equivalent self had exhibited at finding herself suddenly female. Once the former Bruce had been physically transformed into Elektra, the final die had been cast. The remaining changes to her mind became inevitable. Once firmly in their place, those mental changes were, according to Dr. Strangefate, irreversible. Those simple questions he'd asked her about who he was and who she was had been superfluous fluff. Regardless of her strength of will, she could have no more held off those changes taking place in her mind than she could have willingly stopped breathing or quit eating. Once physically his Elektra, she'd simply had no other choice but to become his Elektra mentally as well. The pattern simply matched her mind with her body. There was a distinct possibility - even the arcane master Strangefate hadn't truly known - that the pattern might have relinked her with her soul. However, his wife had still surprised him from time to time over the past few weeks since her rebirth. Bruce was convinced those surprises stemmed from those subtle changes he'd been obliged to make in his Elektra's pattern of being so that she would be somewhat different from Selina. He'd thought those changes merely innocuous at the time, but his experience since then clearly indicated she might have become better, not just different, than she'd been. Elektra certainly knew more tricks in their bed than she'd ever known before. However, he quite definitely had no thoughts of issuing any complaints. Very simply, he enjoyed this newness and the variety that Elektra now brought to their bed. He did, however, wonder when and where she might have learned them. On the other hand, he tried not to worry about from whom. Bruce leaned over and kissed her. Even though fast asleep, Elektra swiftly responded. He wished he didn't have to leave her again. But he had so many obligations and responsibilities in this reality that seemingly always needed his immediate, if not swifter, attention. How had his former counterpart dealt with it all? The paperwork alone was horrendous. How had he managed to ever find the time required to fight crime and evil? It was nearly overwhelming at times. It adversely affected his time with Elektra. Was that why the former Bruce had never married here? Sometimes he just wished he could return to the simplicity of his former life as Logan Wayne. Those had been simpler, happier, days. There had been no problem finding quality time for being with his wife. But those days, as well as his world, were now gone. Having dressed - he hated these uncomfortable suits and wondered what evil madman had devised the sinister tie - he looked down at his still sleeping wife. He couldn't help but think that she'd gotten the best part of the deal. She didn't have to put up with the constant crap that seemed to follow him around everywhere he went. Aside from teaching Stephanie the martial arts along with all their subtleties, the only other thing Elektra had to do on a daily basis was please him. She did an exceptionally wonderful job of it too. He doubted she could say the same about him. With her transformation into Elektra, her world had become far simpler; his had become far more complex. Bruce was convinced his wife would have appreciated what he'd done for her, if she could. However, her former life was his now. It was no longer - had in fact never been - hers. She couldn't possibly know what he went through every day. He'd let her continue sleeping, just as he always did. As he left their room, he only hoped that today would be a far better day than yesterday had been. *** Fight. Fight, Katra. Fight it. Fight. You must continue fighting every step of the way, Elektra. You must fight harder. Fight. Elektra Kyle, also known as Katra, opened her eyes. Her husband Bruce Wayne was not in their bed. She wasn't the least bit surprised. Bruce was - had always been - a very busy man. The demands on his time were great. She certainly didn't envy him. In addition, the voices had returned once again. Those odd voices never troubled her when Bruce was around. It was almost as if his nearness protected her from them. But wasn't her protection one of his duties and responsibilities as her husband? The voices - it was possible there might be just one - had begun just over a week ago. They - she could never determine their genders - always had the same message. They implored her - both as Katra and Elektra - to fight, but at the same time never bothered telling her with whom or with what she must do battle. Perhaps it was some kind of warning about the Foul One. But in fact, she needed no voices in her head to remind her that the vile and evil Foul One needed to be fought and defeated, utterly destroyed if at possible. The fight against the Foul One, side by side with her husband, was simply a given in her life. However, they'd strangely heard nothing from him in the past several weeks. As Katra, she was mistress extraordinaire of all known martial arts. She fought; it was simply her nature to do so. It was a vital part of her life. She also taught others those same arts that were second nature to her, even as she now instructed Stephanie Brown, the latest Robin to be employed by Batman. The latest Robin? Had there been others before her? She searched her mind for the answer she felt she must know. Buried deeply in the dark recesses of her mind, Elektra found vague, nearly forgotten, memories. They were troublesome memories, as well. Had there truly been three others? Even stranger, these other Robins had all been male. That didn't make much sense to Elektra. Robin, that is Stephanie Brown, was a girl. For as long as she could remember Bruce's partner had always been a girl. Jubilation Drake, who she clearly remembered being the latest Sparrow, was - had been - a girl. Jeanne Todd, who had been brutally murdered by the Hyena, had been a girl. Even the first Sparrow - Angelica Grayson had left the nest in order to become Firewing - had been a girl. Something seemed totally wrong. If Robin were now Batman's partner, then what had happened to Sparrow? What, if anything, had happened to those other Robins preceding Stephanie? Those memories were either not in her mind or inaccessible for some reason. Had they even existed? Was there something significant in there having been three former Sparrows and three former Robins? Why did she suddenly have all this trouble remembering things? Her head began throbbing. She'd never tried working out what the voices had meant or what they might want from her before now. The dull ache in her mind was clearly a warning. Something - she didn't know just what - was apparently standing between her and the truth. Something was somehow wrong... very wrong... here. Elektra just didn't have a clue about what it might be, but she was definitely determined to find out. The warning ache in her mind faded as her thoughts turned elsewhere. She remembered that at some times she had been a cat burglar. At other times, she had been an assassin. Both were true statements. She knew the absolute truth of those statements as well as she knew that her name was Elektra Kyle. Those professions - cat burglar and assassin - she simply remembered being. So, in spite of her memories, why did both of those statements ring so false in her ears? Why did it suddenly seem there must be another woman named Kyle - she couldn't find a given name anywhere in her memory - that was actually this cat burglar she thought she was? She was no criminal. Elektra knew that with equal certainty. Despite what her memories constantly insisted on telling her, she was no cat burglar. She fought crime; she didn't commit them. She was a hero, not a villain. She captured cat burglars and other criminals. She put them behind bars where they belonged. That wasn't all. Why did it also seem that some other Elektra existed somewhere - it was her surname that eluded her this time - as the true assassin that her mind insisted was her? Assassins killed. She simply couldn't kill. In fact, she'd never been able to kill, even though her memories said she had taken many lives in many places over several years. Her soul might be darker than she'd like it to be, but that certainly didn't make her some heartless cold-blooded killer. A heartless cold-blooded killer? Just another murderer? The thoughts echoed in her mind. Strange images flashed there. The boy. His parents. Murdered, as the boy watched. Crime Alley. Elektra suddenly screamed in agony as the pain returned full force and assailed her mind and senses. It wasn't until those disjoint thoughts and images had been driven from her mind that the pain finally began to subside. It had felt like years and years of searing agony instead of only mere minutes. Clearly, these were things she was not being allowed to remember for some reason. The why of it all puzzled her. The pain was simply there as a barrier to keep her from treading on ground on which she was forbidden to walk. That situation was simply intolerable. She'd walk wherever she wanted to walk whenever she wanted to walk there. That decision had to be hers; no one else had the right to make it for her. She'd simply have to fight harder and harder against the barrier of pain until it - or perhaps she - collapsed. The voices? They had told her to fight harder. Was this what they'd meant for her to fight? Had she an unseen ally she knew nothing about? An odd thought suddenly passed through her mind. Although she didn't know from where the name might have come, Elektra wondered if there might be a Selina Natchios out there somewhere, perhaps of another time or in another plane of reality, plagued with this same problem she had. Pain began slowly creeping back into her mind. Clearly, she was on the right track. Otherwise, there would have been no pain to keep her from thinking. Slowly, Elektra closed her eyes. With a conscious effort, she willed her mind to go blank. The budding pain vanished, just as she'd surmised it would. Control of the pain gave her an advantage she wasn't supposed to have. She was quite pleased with herself. But this fight was clearly far from over. Having opened her eyes once again, Elektra rose from her bed and strolled casually toward the mirror. It was such an odd sensation. For some inexplicable reason, she had this strange sudden need to see herself. She didn't know why. Unlike so many other women she knew, she'd never really been that engrossed with seeing her reflection. She was who she was and was happy with that. Standing in front of the mirror, Elektra wondered what it was she was supposed to see in it. As far as she could tell, nothing about her had significantly changed since the last time she'd looked in a mirror. There was no new third eye in the center of her forehead. That would have been so gross and probably look so horribly tacky. People would likely stare at her. Nor did she stand over seven-foot tall or weigh well over five hundred pounds either. She was still the same 5'8", 129 pounds she'd been for the past several years. Her weight was just perfect for her height. That made her happy. She simply had no idea what weight might be best for a seven-foot girl. Her hair was just as black as it had always been. Nor had it grown as much as an inch. She just liked its length the way that it was. It was perfectly manageable. Longer hair would just get in the way and that might one day prove fatal. She was still just as hot and sexy as she'd ever been. That pleased her no end. She was just the way Bruce liked her. Of course, Bruce would do whatever she wanted him to do. Her husband - how typically male of him - had never realized she had him wrapped around her little finger. She just wished she could give him a little more energy in their bed. Of course, she was also standing in front of the mirror naked. She always went to bed naked. Even the flimsiest of negligees simply got in the way whenever she and Bruce had sex. She'd never wanted to waste time that could be better utilized elsewhere in something as droll and mundane as removing clothing. As much as she might have wanted to be, she just hadn't been naked the last time she'd looked at herself in a mirror. People were just too uptight about seeing hot naked young sexy women running around in public. She simply didn't know why nakedness caused so many people so many problems. Most likely, the other women were simply jealous. In any event, if she had her way, the whole world would go naked. All the hot sexy curves she'd had before, she still had now. They hadn't gone anywhere. In fact, there was every possibility her curves were far more dangerous now than they'd ever been before. Her boobs hadn't changed a bit. They were neither too big nor too small. They were just about right as far as she was concerned. Although, she'd been getting this feeling of late that Bruce would have preferred them just a little bigger. He'd have to get over that. After all, they were her boobs, not his. So why had she felt compelled to look at herself? She was still the same girl she'd always been. People didn't just change for no reason at all. It wasn't as if she'd had a sudden attack of amnesia either. She knew exactly who she was. Why wouldn't she? She was Elektra Kyle, wife of Bruce Wayne, who was secretly Batman. Of course, she'd never tell anyone that Bruce was Batman, just as he would never tell anyone she was also Katra. On the other hand, there were a lot of narrow-minded people out there who were totally pissed off with her for keeping her maiden name. She didn't know why it bothered them so much when it didn't bother Bruce at all. That was really none of their damn business. She just had never really liked the sound of Elektra Wayne all that much. It had sounded a little too much like electric train. An odd reason to be sure. She'd never really cared for hyphenated last names either. It was a simple case of Elektra Kyle-Wayne sounding so terribly tacky and overly pretentious. She did, however, like the sound of Mrs. Bruce Wayne. It just rolled off her tongue. The sharp sudden pain that had accompanied the thought had been a surprise. It just made no sense. She was his wife. Why shouldn't she think of herself as Mrs. Bruce Wayne every now and again? With a glance at the clock on the wall, Elektra wondered where all the time had gone this morning. Had she actually been pondering these strange things that long? It was just about time for Robin to arrive for her next lesson. She'd have just enough time to don her Katra attire and make her way down to the BatCave before Stephanie arrived. From somewhere, she decided there were also a few questions she needed to ask Stephanie. *** "Greetings, Mistress Katra." Stephanie bowed to her mentor. "Haven't I told you to call me Elektra while we're working out here in the BatCave?" "Many times now, Katra," replied Stephanie. "But while you are garbed as Katra, it simply seems better that I call you Katra. That will prevent slip ups in the field. That is why Batman only calls me Robin when I'm dressed as the Girl Wonder." "A most sensible precaution, Robin. I too shall abide by that rule." It certainly sounded like something Batman would consider important. Her husband had always been a practical man, even when he'd been... The name that had just been on the tip of her tongue now eluded her. Elektra wondered about whom she'd just been thinking. Bruce Wayne had never been anyone save Batman. Why had she thought, even briefly, that her husband might have once been someone else? She ignored the flash of pain that came with the thought. "All you all right?" asked Robin. "Of course," replied Katra. "I was just thinking about other things. Before we begin our lesson, would you mind telling me whether or not you've noticed anything odd or different about Bruce?" "Bruce? Or Batman?" answered Robin. "Either," replied Katra. "Or both, perhaps." She simply didn't know what she was looking for. However, she was convinced there must be something she needed to know. "Bruce seems to be having a few problems with day to day stuff lately," replied Robin. "I can't remember him ever having the kind of trouble he's having now before." "I see. Of late, he's been adequate at best in our bed," added Katra. "It's almost as if he were another person." That made some sense and yet it didn't. "That might also be part of the explanation for his other poor performances lately." "I'm not sure I want to hear about that," said Robin. "Point taken," smiled Katra. "What were the names of his parents?" "Thomas and Martha Wayne. I thought you knew that." "So did I." She wasn't sure how to reconcile the fact that John and Elizabeth Wayne held an equal place in her memory to that of Thomas and Martha Wayne. They couldn't possibly both be Bruce's parents. Odd as it seemed - she'd never known the names of her own parents - Thomas and Martha just felt more like they should be their names. How was that possible? Another sharp sudden pain was also ignored. "What about Batman?" "He's paranoid as hell, but then he's always been paranoid as hell," replied Robin. "I'd be far more worried about him, if he wasn't." "Agreed." Batman's paranoia at least seemed consistent. "Then there's his costume." "His costume?" repeated Katra. "What about his costume?" "It's different," replied Robin. "I can't really explain it. Even though I know it hasn't - couldn't have - changed, it's just different somehow now." "How odd? His costume hasn't changed in all the time I've known him," said Katra. "And yet, now that you've mentioned it, something does seem wrong about it. I sense that, somehow, it no longer strikes the fear in the hearts of the criminals he battles that it once did. It may have never done so." "I think it might be something like that, Katra." "Perhaps. Do you know the fate of Sparrow?" "Sparrow? I know no one named Sparrow," replied Robin. "Who is he?" "He is a she. Somehow, your lack of knowledge of her surprises me not." Katra smiled weakly. "Sparrow is, perhaps was, partner with Batman. And yet, she is, or was, not. There is another - a name even now I fight to remember - with whom she fights, or fought, crime." Katra held back the pain. It was still there, but it no longer bothered her anywhere near as much as it had before. "What of the Robins that preceded you?" "Are you sure you sure you're all right?" asked Robin. She was certain Katra knew more about her predecessors - Tim excluded, of course - than she did. "I am fine," replied Katra. "I just need to know what you know of them. It's important." Robin wasn't sure what was going on. Both Batman and Katra had been acting very strangely for the last several weeks. There had been times - this was one of them - that Katra actually reminded her more of Batman than Batman did himself. Maybe it was just some kind of test. Batman was always testing her. Why wouldn't his wife do the same? "Where should I start?" "Start with the first Robin," replied Katra. She needed to compare what Stephanie knew about the three Robins with what she remembered, not of the Robins, but of the Sparrows. If she was right, they were all somehow connected. "The first Robin was Dick Grayson," began Stephanie. "I don't know much about him. I suppose he's sort of the base pattern for all the Robins that followed him. When he quit being Robin, he continued fighting crime under his new identity of Nightwing. He's become a legend in his own right." "That's sufficient," replied Elektra. The pattern she'd expected to find was clearly there. In fact, it shouted out at her. Angelica Grayson had been the first Sparrow. When she'd left, she'd become Firewing. "What about the next Robin?" "I don't really know much about him either," said Stephanie. "Batman doesn't - won't actually - talk to me about him. His name was Jason Todd. He was murdered by the Joker." "I see." Elektra could see the pattern was still there. Like the second Robin, the second Sparrow - an often troubled Jeanne Todd - had also been murdered. Elektra wondered if the Hyena and the Joker might also follow this same odd pattern that she'd so far observed with the Sparrows and Robins. It seemed likely they would. "And the third Robin?" "I know a lot about him; we go to high school together," smiled Stephanie. "His name's Timothy Drake. He's quite a detective. He figured out Batman was Bruce Wayne from all the odd clues left lying around. He quit went someone discovered he was Robin." Stephanie paused for moment, before deciding to continue. "He was really pissed off when he figured out I was the new Robin. He said being Robin was too dangerous a job. He was worried about me; I kind of think he likes me." Stephanie wasn't about to tell Elektra that she sort of liked Tim too. "He's still alive." "He'd better be." "That's good." If the pattern were correct, then Jubilation Drake was also still alive... somewhere. However, would she discover a male Sparrow had taken her place when they returned to their world? Their world? What could that possibly mean? This was her world. She knew that for a fact. This had always been her world. She'd been born here. At the same time, Elektra also knew that this world was not the world of her husband. He'd been born elsewhere. His world no longer existed. "Batman is not Batman, as he was before," said Elektra suddenly. "He is actually Dark Claw. He has come from another reality and usurped Batman's position, authority, and role in this world." "That sounds a little farfetched to me." "I know it must," agreed Elektra. "Nevertheless, it is all true." "If it is, then who are you?" "My mind tells me I am Elektra Kyle, wife of Bruce Wayne known as Batman. It also tells me I am married to Logan Wayne known as Dark Claw," replied Elektra. "But neither is actually the truth. Search your deepest memories, Stephanie Brown. Bruce Wayne was not - has never been - married. And even though Logan Wayne married Elektra Kyle in their reality, I am not she. I was born here... in this world, this reality. Logan somehow made me believe I was really his Elektra... his Katra... his wife." "Then who are you?" asked Stephanie. "I don't know... as yet," replied Elektra solemnly. "But sooner or later, I will put all these pieces together and discover my true identity." She was more convinced then ever that the names of her parents were Thomas and Martha. But the surname Kyle simply didn't belong to them anymore than it was hers. It was just a clue, however vague, to that person she really was. She could almost picture them in her mind. "Perhaps I can help you." Stephanie went over to the BatComputer and typed in a new query. She frowned when the result came back. "This is really weird. There have been no women reported missing in Gotham in the last month, Elektra." "That is very strange," agreed Elektra. However, she wasn't too surprised. She actually had an idea who she might be. Even though Stephanie's data had provided potentially corroborating evidence, Elektra didn't think the girl would believe it. After all, she had some trouble believing it herself. However, she knew that when all the other possibilities had been exhausted that whatever remained, however unlikely it might be, must be the truth. That was one of those things that had always made her such a good detective. "Perhaps we should continue with your lesson now, Robin," said Katra with an odd smile. "It might help me remember more." *** Elektra sat quietly in the darkness of their room. The lesson with Robin had gone well. They'd all gone well. She was - just as she'd first said she was - a quick learner. But she'd known that the first time she'd met her. Stephanie was an apt pupil. Elektra wished she could have more pupils like Stephanie Brown. Unfortunately, her remaining time with her pupil might soon be cut short. The outer door opened. His footsteps approached. "What's wrong with the lights, Elektra?" asked Bruce as he entered the darkened room. "Nothing. Nothing at all," replied Elektra. "I just thought you might find facing me easier in the dark, Logan." "Logan?" he asked. He wondered what had gone wrong. She shouldn't have remembered. "Don't even think of playing any more games with me," said Elektra. "I know that you're Logan Wayne, not Bruce Wayne. I know that you're Dark Claw, not Batman." She paused for a moment. "I know that you've come from a reality outside this one and usurped both Bruce's and Batman's place. I'm not even your wife. I'm from this reality, not yours." "Have you any idea what you're saying, Elektra?" asked the now exposed Logan nervously. "This is nonsense. It's impossible. No one will ever believe that ridiculous story. They'll think you insane and lock you away someplace. Is that what you want?" "So be it," replied Elektra. She glared menacingly at Logan. "It will be better than living this lie of yours you've constructed for me, Logan." "If you're not my wife, then who are you?" "I'm Bruce Wayne." Logan's mouth dropped open. "No, you're not. This is impossible," he said, clearly flustered. "Strangefate told me the person on whom the pattern was laid could never regain their true memories. You can't possibly remember being Bruce Wayne." "Not quite. It is still a little vague," replied Bruce. "But I had eliminated every other possibility." Still feeling more female than male, she absently cupped one of her breasts. "Since my being Bruce Wayne was all that remained that fit all the facts, I therefore had to be Bruce Wayne." She smiled at Logan. "You've just given me the final confirmation." "No. It's just not possible," argued Logan. "But don't worry, with a simple spell I can give you back your life." "Which life?" snarled Bruce. "Yours, of course," replied Logan. "You will be Elektra Kyle, my wife, again just as you should be." "No! I won't!" objected Bruce. "I am not Elektra Kyle; I am Bruce Wayne. I'm not your wife; I never was. This is my world; you don't belong here." "But Elektra," wheedled Logan. "I can make it all better. I can make everything all right again." "You're an insufferable ass," stated Bruce. "I don't know what the real Elektra ever saw in you." "She is right, you know. You are an insufferable ass, Logan," said another female voice suddenly in the room with them. "I'm surprised it took her a whole month to figure it all. It didn't take me anywhere near that long at all." "White Witch!" exclaimed Logan, as he turned and saw the dark haired young woman clad in a white suit. "What are you doing here?" He suddenly seemed puzzled. "How can you even be here? I thought you killed when the Foul One destroyed our world." "On the order of Dr. Strangefate, I've come to take you home, Logan." The White Witch turned to Bruce. "You are right, young lady, he does not belong here. He endangers us all. Our world, for its own stability, needs Dark Claw returned to us." "Our world was destroyed by the Foul One, Witch," said Logan. "You must know that as well as I do." "It was not destroyed. There is no Foul One. Our world continues on as we all, save for a few, believe it always has," replied the White Witch. Logan shook his head. "It can't be." "I've come from Dr. Strangefate himself, Logan. If you don't believe me, then you don't believe him." The White Witch smiled at Logan. "Your wife - the real Elektra - waits for you in our world. She is lonely without you and wants you to return." "She wasn't killed by the Foul One?" As much as he wanted to believe what the White Witch told him, Logan wasn't convinced he could. He knew what he knew. "There is no Foul One, Logan," replied the White Witch. "There never has been one. Your mind has played tricks on itself. It was he who was known as Strange - a name your mind misread as Foul One - that saved, not destroyed, our world." "I can really go home?" "You can. That's why I'm here." Logan turned Bruce. "I hope you can one day forgive me, Bruce. I would rather be with my wife, then remain here with you. You aren't my wife; you just look like her." He turned to the White Witch. "I'm ready. Send me home, Witch." And abruptly, Logan was gone. "Where did he go?" asked Bruce. "Who are you?" "I sent him home to our reality. That was what he wanted. That was where he wanted to be. That is where he needs to be. It is but a pocket reality now, but few need ever know it. As our world exists, then so too do we. It is better that way. In truth, what else, but existence, is truly important?" replied the White Witch. "As you have heard Logan Wayne name me, I am called the White Witch in my reality. You may, however, want to call me Wanda. It is not too often I use my birth name Wanda Zatara." "What happens next, Wanda?" asked Bruce. "An intriguing question," replied Wanda. "You pose an interesting dilemma, Bruce." "How so?" Bruce folded her arms under her breasts "For one, you've regained - at least partially - your sense of self. Neither Dr. Strangefate nor I believed that was possible to any degree," replied Wanda. "Your mind must be incredibly well-ordered. Your willpower must be indomitable; I doubt it would be measurable." Wanda bowed, then smiled at Bruce weakly. "But then, you are - or rather you were - Batman. Even in our reality, your legend precedes you." "You're just trying to tell me there's some kind of problem." Bruce swept the strands of stray hair away from his eyes. "I suppose I am," replied Wanda. "The pattern that defined Bruce Wayne no longer exists. You'll never be Bruce Wayne again. Even worse than that, you'll never be Batman again." "There must be something you can do, Wanda. Gotham still needs me. It must have its best crimefighter." Bruce stared at the White Witch. "It can't end this way. I won't let it." "There might be a way, Bruce," replied Wanda. "You might not be able to be Bruce or Batman again, but your crimefighting career can, if you'd like it to, continue. It will take some adjustment on your part, but I have no doubt you'll succeed. Only Robin, aside from yourself, shall know all. You will need her aid and assistance." "Very well, Wanda Zatara, do whatever must be done," said Bruce calmly. "I am ready." "It is done," echoed the voice of the White Witch as she faded from sight. *** Stephanie Brown watched as her partner finished the last of several training sessions. Much to the chagrin of the criminals of Gotham City, the detective was about to return to active duty. It was simply amazing. Everything had come back even faster than Stephanie had imagined it would. Aside from the changed appearance only they would ever notice, there would be little, if any, real difference, between what had been before and what now was. That was clearly attributable to the tenacious nature her partner had always exhibited in the past. "I'm just about ready now, Stephanie. The criminals that had thought me vanquished are going to be in for one great big surprise." "There would be no disputing that if they knew everything we know," replied Stephanie. "Will you let me drive the Batmobile when we go out on patrol?" "I suppose I must. I have no driver's license at present." "Just who would stop the Batmobile and ask you for your license?" "That's not the point. I can't drive without a license, Stephanie. It's not legal. I would know I was doing something wrong." "You're just as pigheaded and stubborn as you ever were," replied Stephanie. "I'm glad that was something the White Witch didn't change. I've grown used to dealing with those traits in you." "I'll take that as a compliment, Stephanie." "You would." Stephanie smiled at her partner. "We should change. It's about time for us to head out on patrol." "It's about time too. I doubt I could have taken much more of this inaction. Training is one thing; the real thing is something else entirely. When Wanda first told me some adjustment would be necessary on my part, I didn't know this was quite what she'd meant." "You've adjusted rather well, even faster than I would have thought," smiled Stephanie. "I doubt I could have adjusted anywhere near as well if our places had been reversed." "You never know what you can and can't do until you have to do it. I had no idea when Wanda told me I could never be Bruce or Batman again that I couldn't be some other male." "I suppose you're right, Kitty," replied Stephanie. "How could either of us have possibly known that some part of Dark Claw's spell might indeed be irrevocable." Katherine Wayne scowled in Stephanie's direction. "While we're in costume and out on patrol, I will call you Robin as I always have. I hope you remember to do the same and only call me ShadowBat, as well. We don't need any foul ups here." "You don't need to worry about that, Kitty," replied Stephanie. "Once you're garbed as ShadowBat, you'll just be ShadowBat to me. I haven't forgotten anything that you taught me before your change." Stephanie began grinning. "I'm kind of wondering what's going to happen the first time you phase through a wall to capture some escaping crook that thought he'd gotten cleanly away." "I never asked for a superpower. I don't why Wanda insisted on giving me one," grumbled Kitty. "I never needed a superpower when I was Batman." "But that's the whole point, Kitty," replied Stephanie. "You're no longer Batman. You're clearly ShadowBat now. You're also 5'7" and at least a hundred pounds lighter now than you were before. Wanda just gave you an additional advantage she thought you might need." "I guess you're right," sighed Kitty. "I suppose that's something else I'll just get used to having too." THE END