Lois Lane made her way to the subway system and went to the transporter hidden in a broken handicap bathroom. She had made sure that no one was following her. She waited until two trains had gone and checked hidden camera feed to make sure no one was waiting for her. She then dialed in the activation code she had gotten from the Justice League and set up transport to Gotham City, right to the clock tower.
Thanks to Barbara’s association with Bruce and family she had gotten the penthouse apartment for nothing and in the attic they turned the clock room into a command station for her. Lois materialized in the special closet on the side of the clock room built just for the teleportation machinery. After she opened the door an intercom buzzed.
“Lois?” Barbara’s voice called, “What’s up? I’m in the kitchen.”
Lois made her way down stairs into the apartment proper. Barbara was seated at the kitchen table cutting up a bunch of vegetables.
“Why the visit?” Barbara asked, “Tonight is dinner with my dad so I am making a stew.”
“I interviewed the Rubber Queen,” Lois said as she took a seat across the table and out of reach of the kitchen knife, “She was telling me that she had the Bats infiltrated and under her control… Are you under her control?”
The red head dropped the knife on the table, her eyes narrowed and then crossed…
“Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong, Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong, Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong, Bah-weep-Graaaaagnah wheep ni ni bong…” Barbara started chanting.
Lois backed tried to back away and fell out of her chair.
“Relax,” Barbara smiled, “It’s the Universal greeting, you know from the Transformers.”
“You scared the crap out of me,” Lois sneered, “Why would you start chanting that?”
“I figured if I told you I was my normal nerdy self, you wouldn’t believe me,” Barbara shrugged and picked up her knife returning to the cutting, “So I figured the only way for you to believe that I am my nerdy self would be to act nerdy. So it was the Universal Greeting or sing Dare To Be Stupid.”
“Why didn’t you just sing?” Lois asked.
“Because Dare to be Stupid is in the bedroom snoring,” Barbara smiled.
“Why the Transformers kick?” Lois asked.
“Dick, Tim, Steph, Hellen and I kind of kidnapped and tied up Damien last night and made him watch the movie,” Barbara had an impish grin, “By the end of it; Tim, Steph and Hellen were singing You Got The Touch to Damien.”
“Oh god,” Lois could only imagine the wraith unleashed by the demon son when he got free.
“You want to talk about cult brainwashing,” Barbara finished and wiped her hands with a towel, “That poor bastard was slathered with it since before he was born.”
Barbara got up and walked to the desk next to the balcony door, she grabbed a bundle of papers and a Tablet/Laptop hybrid. She handed the bundle to Lois.
“Here is all of the open source on Miss. Queen,” Barbara snickered, “Born Mary Jane Watson in Montoursville Pennsylvania to Philip and Madeline Watson. One sister, Gayle. Moved around a lot as a kid, came to Gotham about four years ago after a stint in New York City living with an aunt. Connecticut DMV issued a Driver’s license at the time states she is five foot eight, a hundred and twenty pounds, red hair and green eyes.”
Lois looked up.
“That woman was at least six feet tall,” Lois said.
“And when she had the state reissue her license after her name change, she was five eleven barefoot,” Barbara continued, “About a year and half ago she legally changed her name to first name Rubber and last name Queen. Now what did she have to say?”
Lois recounted the alien parasite story and her tossing out that she knew who the Bats were and who Clark was.
“A tendril that enters people’s minds and let her know their secrets,” Barbara turned to the laptop and brought up an archive link, “I am willing to bet she learned about us from Fox. Here, two years ago he presented Miss Watson with an ‘attaboy…’ well ‘Attagirl,’ on behalf of the Chamber of Commerce. Fox got the short straw since the other two of Gotham’s self-made millionaires were appearing all week in the courthouse for bail hearings and what not.”
“Bruce? Dagget?” Lois asked.
“Bruce was born a billionaire,” Barbara noted as she crossed her legs, “We had just busted Dagget for suppling dealers with cheap drugs in markets he wanted to rebuild. He would open the flow of drugs to dealers and after the prices crashed, he bought up the properties and then offed the dealers. Miss Watson was on her way to being a self-made millionaire at that point so they asked Fox to hand out the plaque. Fox was born in the slums by the university and worked his way into Wayne Industries and climbed to that million dollars a day CEO job the hard way and right way.”
Lois looked at the pictures along with the write up from the local paper, Watson had to be five ten by that point and there were plenty pleasant pictures for the camera, hands on shoulders, shaking hands, hug, group shot with Fox and his kids and so on. Watson or Rubber Queen could have infected them at any point.
“Makes sense now,” Barbara said, “Shortly after the dinner, she started changing up her plan and started investing in other groups and companies. She started buying herself subsidiaries and starting a few of her own and launched her global outreach.”
“And she spread her fetish everywhere she went,” Lois noted looking at finical disclosures from the Kinky Kloset fetish retail chain.
“No,” Barbara rolled her eyes, “We can blame Rihanna for that.”
“What?” Lois asked.
“Yeah so I looked into that and it seems that her stores open on a regular basis,” Barbara brought up another file on the computer, “It seems that she isn’t driving it only making good on the surge. Each time one of these ‘pop-tarts’ as Alfred calls them, does a big public event or releases another music video like the S and M video Rihanna did there is a surge in sales of latex items from two days after until eighteen days after. Come day nineteen, the surge is dead and sales are back to base line for that time of year and market. She has opened shops too early and too late for the surge in sales which indicates that she isn’t pushing these events to boost sales at her stores.”
“Doesn’t she co-ordinate with these people?” Lois wondered aloud.
“Many of the celebrities rely on handlers who have been doing this for decades,” Barbara said, “Most of them have a short list of people they trust to do the outfits and not spill the beans before the big event.”
“Great,” Lois said, “Why haven’t you guys kicked in her door yet?”
“We got nothing,” Dick said as he stumbled into the kitchen.
Lois watched the grown boy wonder go towards Barbara and lean in to kiss… the chandelier over the kitchen table.
“Sleepy has a point,” Barbara pulled him over to kiss her, “We have never had enough to go after her. But I just thought of who else she might have compromised… Iris, Barry’s wife. She did an interview with her about six months ago.”
“I read the notes she sent me,” Lois admitted, “Most of them were her complaining to herself about how to go over sex and fetish in the store and not offend her rather conservative editor and market.”
“I could imagine if she was carrying around a tendril thingy,” Barbara said, “Her highness would know everything the Flash tells his wife.”
“Oh joy,” Dick face planted into the dry bowl of cereal.