Batman

Jack strolled through the dimly lit alleys of Gotham, the city's shadows embracing every corner. Impatient, he decided to take the lead, veering into a particularly dark and isolated alleyway. In a city like Gotham, such alleys were as common as streetlights.

As Jack traversed the third narrow passage, Bruce Wayne, lurking in the shadows, seized the opportunity to make his move. Guided by Jack's calculated acquiescence, Bruce stealthily closed the distance between them.

"Freeze, and don't make a move," Bruce commanded, pressing an iron pipe against the back of Jack's head, mimicking the shape of a concealed weapon.

Jack complied, halting in his tracks. "Who are you?" he inquired.

Bruce, lowering his voice, remarked, "Your reflexes don't match the tales in the newspapers."

Jack retorted with a smirk, "Regardless, they're still superior to a mysterious man in black."

Intrigued, Bruce questioned, "How did you figure it out?"

"There's a glass wall ahead," Jack pointed towards it. Bathed in moonlight, the glass revealed their silhouettes to anyone with a keen eye.

Bruce, lacking his Batman attire, felt a surge of embarrassment. A mere mask adorned his face, transforming his once intimidating presence into something rather naive.

Caught in an awkward pause, Bruce mumbled, "Fuck."

Jack, unfazed, calmly suggested, "You've been tailing me for quite a while. If you won't make a move, I will, sir. Lower the steel pipe and let's have a civilized conversation."

Bruce, his pupils narrowing in surprise, protested, "You can't know I've been following you!"

Jack, maintaining his composure, stated matter-of-factly, "You've trailed me through three streets. Need me to recite their names... Or"

In an instant, Bruce realized the steel pipe in his hand was no longer pressed against anything. A chill descended upon him, and before he could react, Jack had vanished from his sight, reappearing behind him with an unsettling ease.

The issue is, Bruce couldn't figure out how Jack pulled it off!

"Or maybe I need this to show you what I'm capable of and convince you to have a proper conversation instead of getting involved in this pointless game of temptation," Jack remarked, pushing the wrench forward, then retracting it. He circled around Bruce and continued walking without glancing back. "Whatever you have to say, say it at my place."

Bruce hesitated for a moment but decided to follow him.

After a short walk, Jack reached his rental house. Soon after, Bruce entered.

"Take a seat; let me brew some tea." Jack gestured towards the living room before heading to the kitchen.

Bruce had no choice but to settle on the sofa, sitting upright without squinting. He felt like an elementary school student being disciplined, making the atmosphere a bit awkward for him.

Initially, Bruce's plan was to conceal his identity, extract information from Jack, discover his origins, identify any affiliations, and assess if Jack's abilities could complement his team in Gotham.

However, Bruce's flawless plan unraveled from the start.

It's just that Jack's abilities far surpassed Bruce's expectations. Even now, Bruce couldn't comprehend how Jack executed his previous actions.

Jack's movements were not only incredibly swift, catching Bruce off guard, but they were also silent, not even a whisper in the wind.

Bruce's decision to follow Jack wasn't solely about conveying information or inviting him to join the mission. Another factor was his fascination with Jack's physical skills.

Jack swiftly prepared a pot of tea, the aroma wafting through the air as he entered the living room. "You know, I never expected to find this kind of tea in Gotham. Quite a pleasant surprise. Care for a cup?" he offered with a warm smile.

Bruce, sitting across from him, acknowledged, "You're British. I gathered that from the information I've seen."

Not willing to play into Jack's pace, Bruce explained, "I've looked into your background," trying to regain control of the conversation.

Jack leaned back, exuding a relaxed demeanor that sharply contrasted with Bruce's vigilance. With a smirk, he prompted, "Oh, I may or may not be. What else did you find out?" His ease indicated a stark difference from Bruce's cautious stance.

"All the information seems normal. The documents check out, but the individuals who could vouch for it are all deceased," Bruce disclosed. "I've only come across such profiles in specific professions. Are you an agent? FBI, perhaps, or something else?"

Jack, unfazed, took a casual sip of tea. "Is that all?" he grinned. "Why not enjoy the tea? By the way, is there a particular reason you always wear that hood? It's a bit peculiar."

Bruce hesitated, his body tense. "I believe it's not in our best interest if my identity is revealed before we clarify things," he responded, wary of any potential aggression from Jack.

Regret started to creep into Bruce's thoughts. Perhaps he acted too impulsively by coming here without proper preparation. He pondered, "I should have gone back to gather strength and acquire new equipment before venturing into this situation."

.....

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