Deals #48

Stepping out of the taxi, I waded into the wet streets of Gotham, taking a deep breath. The air here had a distinct flavor – a peculiar blend of chemicals and grime that made my face involuntarily scrunch up. Ah, Gotham, the charming paradise of urban decay. 

My presence in this city wasn't a leisurely visit or a quest for adrenaline; it was all business. Contrary to my initial plan of meeting Mr. Freeze, a sudden call from Azrael had redirected my course. The urgency in his voice hinted at Livewire's case needing immediate attention. 

And so here I was, accompanied by my trusty rodent companion, making my way into the dilapidated building that housed the Vigilant Law offices.

Navigating the building felt like a quest in a dilapidated dungeon, but I eventually reached Jean's office after a brief encounter with his vigilant secretary. Flopping onto the couch, I shot him a look that said, "Spill it, my man."

Jean, however, didn't bring the cheeriest news to our little tête-à-tête. "It's a good thing you sat down because I don't have the best of news," he began, injecting a dose of seriousness into the room. "I was met with unexpectedly fierce resistance while working on Livewire's case..." 

"Resistance? As in?" I probed, expecting some twisted Gotham bureaucracy.

"Someone with serious connections, working overtime to nix Livewire's parole and send her straight to Belle Reve," Jean confessed, a sigh punctuating his revelation. "As to why, I'm honestly clueless," he added, shaking his head.

'Belle Reve...?' I pondered, trying to make sense of this unexpected twist. The only logical reason I could conjure was Amanda Waller trying to draft Livewire into the Suicide Squad. But that seemed more absurd than Batman singing karaoke in a furry bat suit. 

To my knowledge, Livewire had never been Squad material in any of her storylines and iterations. Damn you, butterfly effect. 

After wrapping my head around the bizarre circumstances, I decided to embrace the chaos and blame it on the butterfly effect of my existence in this world.

"And? How's it looking?" I inquired, cutting to the chase.

Jean scratched his head, his expression a combination of hesitancy and frustration. "I managed to keep Livewire in her current holding facility and even scheduled the parole session," he began. 

"But, whoever's pulling the strings is persistent. I don't know how they swung it, but what should've been a straightforward parole now comes with a hefty price tag of five million," he added, the weight of the situation etched on his face.

I heaved a sigh of relief at his words, though my grin hid the pain in my heart. Sure, I had just scored a cool ten million, but now I was about to part with half of it to spring Livewire from the slammer. 

As much as it hurt my wallet and my sense of financial responsibility, I had given my word to get her out, so it had to be done. 

"If it's a matter that can be solved with money, then it's no problem at all," I said, a grin plastered on my face that didn't quite match the turmoil within. "I can foot the bill, so keep up the good work and get her out of the big house as soon as possible," I added with a resolve that screamed, "I just became a reluctant philanthropist."

Jean gave me the side-eye, a silent "Are you for real?" etched across his face. "Just like that?" he quipped, raising an eyebrow. My response was a nonchalant shrug that mirrored his words, sans the question mark.

A chuckle escaped him. "Well, if that's how you roll, I'll call Lex Luthor and gracefully decline his offer to pay for Livewire's parole and even fund her talk show," he announced, diving into his pocket for his phone.

I couldn't resist chiming in with a faux dramatic tone, "That's right! Tell Lex to take his offer and shove that offer where the sun don't—"

But mid-sentence, a sudden realization hit me like a freight train. "Hold it! Stop!" I exclaimed, making Jean pause his dialing escapade. "Backtrack a bit. Lex Luthor wants to pay? Why the hell didn't you lead with that?" I demanded, eyebrows doing an enthusiastic dance of confusion.

Jean threw me a casual shrug in response to my incredulous expression. "You didn't exactly give me a chance to spill the Lex Luthor tea," he defended himself. "The real deal is, he caught wind of Livewire's parole situation and waltzed in, waving his checkbook, offering to cover all expenses, no strings attached," he explained.

I, in my infinite wisdom, responded with an eloquent, "Well, if someone's willing to foot the bill, why the hell should I?" I gave Jean a pointed look, accompanied by an expression that hinted at his potential membership in the "Slow on the Uptake" club. 

"Quit stalling, and give Luthor a ring! We'll happily take his cash," I urged, making my stance clear.

However, Jean wasn't entirely convinced. "Are you sure about this? Lex Luthor doesn't exactly sprinkle kindness like confetti. There has to be some ulterior motive. Even Livewire seemed uneasy about posting her bail," he warned, wearing his skepticism like a badge of honor.

Rolling my eyes at his caution, I dismissed it with a wave. "Sure, he's got an agenda. Probably wants Livewire back on the trash-talking Superman circuit with that talk show of hers," I scoffed. "But who cares? As long as there are no tricky contracts involved, we'll ride this gravy train all the way."

"Paying all that money just to have someone badmouth Superman..." Jean grumbled, his forehead creasing with concern. "It seems rather unlikely. Luthor probably has a more sinister goal in mind," he speculated, shaking his head.

"All that money?" I scoffed, waving off his financial qualms. "Chump change for someone like Luthor. He's got a whole vault of petty cash just for Superman-related vendettas," I explained with a smirk. 

"And even if he's got some other ulterior motive, who cares? We'll just ghost the bald bitch and pretend he doesn't exist as long as Livewire steers clear of any contracts he might throw her way," I added nonchalantly.

Jean pondered my words for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. "I suppose you have a point," he conceded with a sigh. "I'll make the call to Luthor, let him know we're taking him up on his offer."

"Good man," I commended him with a pat on the back. "Now, before I hit the road for some Gotham shenanigans, I've got something for you," I declared, reaching into my jacket's inner pocket. 

"Consider this your well-earned pay for a job well done," I added, pulling out a potion bottle filled with a swirling, black liquid resembling a nebula, with vibrant specks twinkling within it.

Jean's eyes widened as he gazed at the potion like a parched wanderer stumbling upon an oasis. "This is...?" he began, anticipation glinting in his eyes. 

I couldn't resist a chuckle at the eagerness painted across his face. "The elixir of mental clarity, or that's what I've christened it," I disclosed, a sly grin spreading across my face. 

"It works like the one I gave you last time, but this version comes with a permanent effect. Guzzle it down, and your noggin will be as clear as a cloudless sky, free of demons, murderous thoughts, split personalities, and everything in between," I pitched, reveling in the role of a charismatic snake oil salesman.

"I... I don't know what to say... Livewire isn't free yet, you know?" Jean hesitated, torn between gratitude and the immediate desire to gulp down the magical remedy.

"But she will be soon, won't she?" I retorted, earning a confident nod of agreement from Jean. "That settles it then. Enjoy," I declared, pivoting on my heel and strolling towards the exit, the sound of the potion bottle's cork popping out resonating behind me.

"Thank you," Jean expressed, a genuine tone laced with gratitude as he readied to partake in the elixir. I merely waved in acknowledgment without bothering to face him, exiting his office with a nonchalant stride.

...

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