Batman and Killer Moth in:  Business as Usual, Same Bat-time, Same Bat-Channel!

Batman silently eased through the shadows of the shadows of the mechanic shop, not thirty feet away where an unremarkable moving van was being filled with plastic and tape wrapped bricks of pure cocaine from the back of a car, the loaders and guards completely oblivious to his presence.  A pair of armed trios - one holding a briefcase - stood nearby trying their best to look intimidating towards each other.  The trick to being invisible was usually nothing more than a bit of camouflage from one's surroundings and keeping to your enemies' blind spots.  They were looking at the rafters, high above and practically invisible behind the lights dangling from the ceiling; Batman always dropped down from the rafters according to every goon and thug "in the know" and Batman himself was only willing to reinforce that belief.  There really was nothing more satisfying to walking right up to someone and have them not notice you're there.  But this time something caught his attention.  They weren't scanning the rafters, they were staring at one particular spot.  Something was up there.  Someone was up there.  And Batman quickly narrowed down the list of possibilities in his head to a scant handful of foes.

Batman removed a small device from his utility belt with one hand and a handful of large pellets with the other.  Turning the device on, he flung it towards the door on the wall opposite the van and followed it by tossing the pellets in a high arc towards the crowd.  As soon as it hit the ground, the device emitted the sounds of loud footsteps, shouting, and a door being kicked in, causing everyone to turn in a single direction just as the pellets descended among them.  At eye level they exploded, powerful pyrotechnical charges flashing bright enough to get everyone to cover their eyes before the pellets emitted billowing clouds of thick smoke.  With visibility dropping and the goons panicking and firing wildly in the opposite direction, Batman leaped into action.  A high flying kick to the back of the nearest gunman put him down and out immediately, and before his partner could react Batman kicked the knees out from under him, landing a chop on his throat and pulling the pistol out his hand before he hit the ground gasping.  With ease Batman dropped the mag and cycled the action one-handed before hurling the now useless gun at the man in the back of the van, nailing him right in the eye and causing him to fall back onto the pile of cocaine bricks.  By now the room had recovered somewhat but the smoke kept them too disoriented and confused to shoot at him.  All but one.

Batman leapt out of the way as the rafters erupted into sharply cracking wheeze of pneumatic fire, bolts of streaming chemicals impacting the ground and erupting into expanding strands of high tensile adhesive.  Swinging down from the ceiling, Killer Moth had joined the fray.  Now among the crowd of criminals, Batman flowed between the ones unfortunate enough to be near him, a whirling dervish of fists and pain that left Killer Moth unable to get a good draw on him.  Backhanded elbow to the teeth followed by wrapping his arm around the head and flipping a man to the concrete.  A quick kick knocking a gun skyward where it fired harmlessly at the ceiling accompanied by a palm strike to the nose and punch to the gut.  Grabbing a collar and tossing a body into Killer Moth's line of fire as impromptu cover.  Grappling gun fired to the ceiling, pulling himself above the fray so he could flip over the crowd and land himself upon the thug with the briefcase with a wet SNAP of the man's collarbone.  Faster than Batman expected, the goon behind him pointed a gun right at the back of his head and pulled the trigger.  Faster than the goon expected, Batman jerked his head out of the way and bumped the gun with his shoulder, sending the bullet whistling harmlessly past Batman's head and just close enough to the head of the criminal opposite that it took a chunk of ear lobe as it passed.  Grabbing the gunman's wrist, Batman pulled forward and down, the criminal screaming as his elbow popped and cracked, bending 90 degrees in the wrong direction.  Holding his now smaller ear, the remaining thug grabbed the briefcase off the ground only to run into Batman's boot on the way down, sending it and the money it contained flying into the air.

The thug still draped across Batman's back cried and begged but for Batman to twist the broken arm further as he twirled around and kicked the man in the chest sending him lurching backwards, only to be shoved to the ground as Killer Moth vaulted over him to get Batman into his sights.  Batman closed the distance and knocked Moth's gun to the side, covering the walls with misfired cocoon webbing, before landing a punch on Moth's helmet.  With practiced ease, Batman ripped the gun out of Killer Moth's hand and twisted the ammo reservoir free.  Seeing an opening, a thug rushed in with a tire iron only to be met with a metal canister full of chemicals to the face; as he reeled Batman shoved the cocoon gun down the front of his pants and pulled the trigger, the sticky white goo gluing the gun to the goon's gonads.  It almost made Batman wish he he had brought Robin along, the criminals of Gotham rarely appreciated his moments of levity.  Spinning around, Batman nailed Killer Moth in the face with the thrown reservoir, cracking one of the lenses on his helmet.

"Hope you got paid in advance, Moth."

"I'm only here to protect half these guys."

Killer Moth charged, throwing wild punches that Batman deflected with ease.  As he grabbed Moth's wrist, he realized the deception as the spoon of a grenade sprang from the unfurling fist and a small flashbang bounced off his gloved palm.  Too late, the flashbang detonated right in Batman's face.  Auto-adjusting lenses and ear protection in his cowl saved his vision and hearing but left him blind and deaf, and the concussive force disoriented him.  Just as he regained his footing and senses a powerful blow to his jaw whipped his head around, only to be followed by a hook from the left.  Instinctively Batman reached up and caught the third strike, Killer Moth was a competent, effective, and even occasionally clever, fighter but boxing habits are predictable and die hard; gripping the fist, he yanked hard and sent his cowl clashing into Moth's helmet with CLANG.  With that opening, Batman twisted Killer Moth's wrist and grabbed the exposed trice with his free hand.  Recognizing the incoming arm lock, Killer Moth rotated and pulled his arm inward then shoulder charged the Dark Knight to shove him back, giving him enough time and distance to pull a knife from his belt and slash at Batman's exposed face.

Dropping Moth's arm, Batman went on the defensive, knife against armored gloves until Moth overextended himself and Batman was able to lock the knife between the blades on his gauntlets and yank it from Moth's hands.  Suddenly disarmed, Killer Moth had no time to react before Batman came in with an uppercut that sent him to the ground on his back.  Dazed, Killer Moth barely had time to scramble out of the way as Batman flipped forward and dropped an axe kick that landed right where Moth's crotch was located a half second prior.  Before Batman could recover, Killer Moth fired a grappling line into the wall and pulled himself away, tossing his own smoke bombs to cover his escape.  Batman went to chase Killer Moth when the sound of the van starting cut through him to the bone.  He had allowed Killer Moth to get into his head.  The remaining crew had time to grab the rest of the drugs and were now escaping.

Batman pressed a hidden button on his gauntlets and growled into it, "Activate program FAITHFUL HOUND, starting point 1939 West Adlebrock St., white panel van, plate number Juliett One Two Echo Kilo Quebec," as he sprinted towards the exit, pressing another button on his utility belt as he ran.  Throwing the doors of the building open he was greeted by the matte-black, winged slab of the Batmobile automatically pulling up in front of him, it's cockpit opening up automatically for him to leap inside.  Settling into the seat, the viewscreen in the dash showed a map of Gotham that was being filled with a moving cluster of green dots as FAITHFUL HOUND's backdoor access to private and public surveillance and data collation heuristics plotted a realtime tracking of his quarry.  With the roar of the engine, the Batmobile took off in pursuit.

Suddenly the right side of his windshield HUD flashed red; flooring it, the Batmobile barely missed being t-boned by a garish muscle car flying out from a side street.  In the rearview, Batman could see the car's rear end whip around from a high-speed turn and shoot forward as they found traction.  He had to give credit where credit was due, someone was getting their money's worth out of Killer Moth tonight.  Nonchalantly, he pressed a button on the steering wheel, and vents in the rear bumper dropped a payload of exploding caltrops.

From the behind the wheel of the Mothmobile, Killer Moth floored the gas and shifted gears.  First thing he did was flip a switch that dropped wedge-shaped guards over his wheels.  As he passed over the caltrops, the guards scooped them up and flung them to the side or under the car where they detonated ineffectively.  Poor, predictable Batman, oil slicks are too dangerous for bystanders, so it's always self-destructing caltrops.  Killer Moth smiled as he pressed a button on his dash and two targeting reticules appeared on his windshield; using a small joystick on his steering wheel he aimed the guns mounted under his hood at the Batmobile and let loose a spray of gunfire.  He had long since realized that he wasn't going to damage the Batmobile short of anything that could harm a tank, so he settled for plastic bullets filled with a high viscosity, electrothermal resistant adhesive.  Suspended in the adhesive were a rotation of tracking devices and infrared diodes that allowed him to easily track the Batmobile as long as it was within range of the Mothmobile's sensors, along with pigment capsules and high-powered LEDs in purple, gold, and green.  The latter two didn't really do anything, but good luck at pulling off the "I am the night!" shtick when he's lit up like Mardi Gras.  Sometimes it's not about winning, but losing with pettiness.

Batman could hear the impact of the bullets and the Batmobile's internal sensors alerted him to the presence of the devices glued to the car.  Rolling his eyes, Batman pressed a few buttons on a touch screen and electricity arced across the Batmobile's rear panels as embedded thermal lines heated up.  Last time Moth pulled this trick it took only 27 seconds to burn everything off.  Largely irrelevant though, as the on-board computer had plotted both the most likely course for the van he was chasing and the most optimal intercept route.  He couldn't fire up the jet turbine on Adlebrock St. due to it curving, but once he hit a straight away nothing Killer Moth had under the hood could keep up with the Batmobile for long.  He vaguely wondered if Moth was still thinking that him having to spend five minutes hosing paint off the Batmobile when it was all over counted for something.

Killer Moth tried to pull alongside Batman, only for him to be blocked at every turn.  He pounded on the steering wheel in anger, as long as Batman was in front of him there is no way for Moth to hope to stop or slow him down.  Finally he saw his chance when a pair of lights approached from the opposite direction.  Pulling fully into the opposing lane he knew Batman would only have one move to make.  Unable to risk the life of the oncoming car, Batman yanked to the right and pulled onto the side walk.  Killer Moth slammed the gas to the floor and hit the nitro boost, putting himself alongside Batman and pulling back into the right lane with only an instant to spare.  Furious, Batman turned the wheel and slammed the Batmobile into the Mothmobile, pushing it back into the left lane, only for Killer Moth to do likewise.

"Voice control activate!" screamed Batman.

"Voice controls active," intoned the dispassionate computerized voice of the Batmobile in response.

"Active disabling measures, full rotation."

A holographic popup appeared over the dash and highlighted a series of armaments that began activating automatically in sequence.  From a covered recess along the hood popped up a small parabolic dish that oriented itself at the Mothmobile and bathed it in EMP bursts for a few seconds to no effect as the cars continued to jostle and slam into each other.  Laser emitters popped out the sides of the Batmobile and targeted the wheels, but couldn't penetrate the layer of ablative insulation that covered the tires, much less the shielded wheel wells - which likewise stopped the flechettes that followed.  Finally out came the side spikes, but they too were useless - grinding away at the armored body panels before bending and snapping off.  Killer Moth had been at this game for a long time, and there was little in Batman's arsenal he hadn't seen before.

Killer Moth slammed his car hard into the Batmobile but this time kept them pressed together.  He knew he'd lose this if he kept it up, for despite it's sleek design the Batmobile was a rolling fortress and physics were in its favor.  Reaching down to a T-shaped quartet of buttons, he pressed the center followed by the right.  With the whirr of a motor, a spike strip launched from the side of the Mothmobile, it's hollow, serrated spikes deploying just in time to embed themselves in the left rear tire of the Batmobile.  This in and of itself wasn't an issue for the Batmobile, which could, and had before, drive over landmines without stopping, except this was no ordinary spike strip.  Once it detected the pressure of being run over, powerful electromagnets spooled up and the tire carried the strip along its rotation where it firmly stuck itself to the inside of the fender and turned the world's most expensive and durable tire into confetti.

A shower of sparks appeared on the rearview screen and the holographic popup switched to a flashing red transparency of the rear tire to show the damage.  Batman reached out and almost activated the emergency tire stored within the rim, stopping at the last second when the display also showed something had attached itself to the car.  He thought for a moment and gritted his teeth.

"Prep turbine."

"Road condition unsuitable for turbine use.  Vehicle condition unsuitable for turbine use."

"Override safety.  Right side nozzles only."

"Turbine to speed."

"Activate."

With the scream of a jet engine, the Batmobile rocketed sideways as Batman yanked the wheel hard, sending the Mothmobile onto the sidewalk, its left side grinding against a brick retaining wall as Killer Moth screamed and tried to push back against Batman.  The gaudy car bucked and shuddered as garbage cans and decorative sidewalk trees slammed into the bumper but kept going.  Suddenly the impact of a lamppost sent the front end flying into the air, causing the Batmobile to slide under it.  Batman wrenched the wheel and cut the turbine, his over-correction sending the Batmobile across the road and onto the other sidewalk, where it impacted a dumpster sitting at the entrance to an alley and came to rest as the Mothmobile slid to a stop under the friction of the retaining wall.  Before the Batmobile's hatch finished sliding forward Batman had jumped from the car to inspect what Killer Moth had used.  Kneeling down, he only had a second to examine the damage before he heard a car door open and Killer Moth stumble out onto the street.  Barely able to keep himself from falling to his hands and knees, Killer Moth lurched across the street at Batman.

"Round Two, Batman!" he screamed defiantly as he found his footing and charged.  Batman stood up and rushed him, only to be caught off guard as Killer Moth tackled him, slamming a shoulder into his solar plexus and carrying him backwards, all the while pummeling Batman's side with his right fist.  Knocking Batman against the Batmobile he continued his flurry of blows while using his now free hand to try and grab something out of Batman's utility belt as a weapon.  Rearing up, Batman brought an elbow down on Killer Moth's spine with all his might, but the villain seemed unphased outside a pained grunt.  Again and again the elbow dropped until Moth's attack began relenting.  Grabbing Killer Moth's shoulder's he lifted him up and dropped him down as he raised a knee into Moth's chest.  After the third knee to the chest Killer Moth was spent and could barely defend himself when Batman grabbed him by the neck and dragged him across the street, picking up speed to a full run before slamming Moth's head into the roofline of his car.  Killer Moth slumped to the pavement, and could do little but wave his arms in protest as Batman leaned him to the side and slammed the car door on him.  Striding back to the Batmobile, opened a supply compartment and rummaged for a second, pulling out a small tool he attached to the spike strip.  In short order the strip popped free with a crackle of electricity and Batman tossed it into the remains of the dumpster.  Right before he hopped back behind the wheel, he heard a pained, wheezing laugh from the villain.

"You'll never catch them in time!  They have to be at the interstate by now, and we both know you'll never take that thing down the I-78!"

And then Batman turned and smiled, long enough for Killer Moth to notice but short enough to leave him wondering if he saw things right, before jumping in the Batmobile and peeling away. "Want to bet?"

														**********************


Killer Moth headed down the highway back towards his house.  Usually the Mothmobile didn't stick out as long as he remembered to retract the wings and turn off the running lights, but usually it wasn't missing half its paint and dragging a not insignificant amount of tree limbs underneath.  The sodium vapor lamps that dotted the road created pools of orange dots in the darkness, forming a visual rhythm of light and darkness that provided a drumbeat for his thoughts as he recounted and examined the events of the evening.  Orange.  Should have been quicker on the draw when Batman showed up.  Black.  Left myself open when coming down from the rafters.  Orange.  Too many people to effectively fight, kept getting in each other's way.  Black.  Let yourself get disarmed.  Orange.  Mothmobile is going to need a new coat of paint.  Black.  Probably gonna have to remount the guns.  Orange.  Held up pretty well all things considered.  Black.  Hope I don't have a concussion.  Orange.  Ribs might be broken.  Black.  Orange.  Black.

He snapped to with a start from his introspective road hypnosis as he heard the sound of his phone ringing, the caller ID on the dash screen letting him know it was his daughter.  After a second of pondering, he hit the button to answer the call.

"You were supposed to be in bed six hours ago."

"Daaaaaadddd, can you stop by the store on your way home?"

Killer Moth paused momentarily and inhaled, "You're supposed to be asleep.  And what could you possible need from the store at 3AM?"

"I was asleep!  Then I woke up, and I need...it's embarrassing."

"Seriously?  You call me at work, in the middle of the night, to buy you something but you're too embarrassed to tell me what it is?"

"I'm out of tampons, okay?" she snapped and he could hear her huff through the phone.

"I...I'm sorry, sweetie, bit of a rough night.  I'm still about 30 minutes from the house though."

"That's fine."  She paused for a moment, "I'm going to be doing some laundry anyways," she finished meekly.  "Thank you, daddy.  Love you."

"I love you too, Kitten."

He hung up and stared at himself in the rearview mirror wondering if Batman ever had to make a 3AM tampon run.  Sighing heavily, he pulled off the highway at the first gas station sign he saw and trundled inside.  The door opened with the tinny chime of cheap bell dangling from it and the worn and faded flooring felt gritty under his feet.  Behind the bulletproof glass the clerk, who according to his chipped and haphazardly placed nametag was Mahmoud, stiffened and reached under the counter as soon as he looked up.  "What the fuck is his problem?" thought Dru as he lumbered past the rows of candy gathering dust under the harsh florescent lighting to the small medicine section.  Grabbing the only box of tampons, and briefly wondering if they had an expiration date considering how dusty everything else in the store was, he realized upon looking at his reflection in the drink case that he was still in full costume.  For a second he considered taking the helmet off, but what was the point?  Heading back to the counter, he placed the tampons in front of the window and waited as the clerk stood there stiffly, hand on what Dru could only assume was gun, sweating nervously.  After a few seconds Dru started rocking on the back of his heels and tapping the counter with his fingers.  Mahmoud coughed nervously.  Dru sighed.

"Look, buddy, this can't be the weirdest thing you've seen at this job."

A soft "heh" escaped Mahmoud's mouth and he relaxed, pulling his hand up and scanning the box of tampons.  "Anything else?"

"Yeah, give me a pack of Morely Black and Gold 100s and a $10 dollar scratch off.  Two scratch offs."

"That'll be $42.98."

"Jesus Christ, and I thought I was supposed to be the supervillain."

He shrugged and took the crumpled up bills that Dru handed him.  Grabbing the scratch offs, Dru tried his luck.  Star, star, banana.  Nothing.  Horseshoe, grapes, the number 7.  Nothing.  He didn't know why he expected anything different.  Just then he felt his burner phone chime and fished it out of his utility belt.  The clerk was saying something to him but he wasn't listening as he checked the message.  A wire transfer to one of his bank accounts for the rest of his fee for tonight.  They had made it safe and sound.  "I bet you $10,000 dollars you son of a bitch," Dru thought to the memory of that smirk as Batman pulled away in his car.  As he put away his phone he realized that that clerk was trying to talk to him.

"Did you win?"

Killer Moth looked him up and down for a moment before tearing the scratchers in half.  "Mahmoud, my good man," he said as he tossed them into the small wastebasket overflowing with losing cards, and grabbed his smokes and tampons, "I'm always a winner."