Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Penny’s perfect organization system for her sock drawer is almost complete. Everything is set up in a neat grid, with rows of perfectly-rolled-up sock pairs organized by category and color, rotated cyclically to ensure even wear. Her only real problem is that the ultra-low socks she wears with her flats stubbornly refuse to stay in their lines. The problem is easily solved with the right container, which she managed to find at a local store in the mall.

And the only problem with solving the problem is that it’s currently evening on a crowded October Saturday. Normally she’d call Jason to come be her big scary bodyguard who can smell danger a mile away, but tomorrow is Halloween and he’s busy with the rest of the Batclan preparing for a pretty much inevitable Scarecrow attack. She should wait until November first instead.

She closes the drawer. Then she opens the drawer and scowls when she realizes even that small motion made the socks slide into a wobbly offset curve instead of a nice line. The problem is so easily solved.

It’ll only take five minutes inside the actual mall, she reasons. Besides, what if they sell out in the next two days? I’m sure it’ll be fine.

And she’s almost right, even. She’s happily trotting toward the mall exit, new sock container in a bag on her arm, when the screaming starts and she sees a cloud of gas rolling toward her.

FUDGECICLES, she curses mentally, diving for the nearest planter to take cover.

Pretty much everyone in Gotham has a gas mask, kept with the scarves and beanies for this time of year. She does too, an ultra slim and ultra efficient full-face mask that Jason made for her⁠—in the same shade of pink as her Glock, of course. It has a dedicated strap on her EDC belt, and Jason made her practice getting it off and onto her face until she could do it in less than a second.

That’s why she’s completely safe and unaffected when the gas rolls over her, turning her exposed skin sticky and gross. The lights go out. The mask’s night vision kicks in. At the same time, she knows a distress signal was sent off to Oracle and… well, everyone else, the moment it sealed over her face. If they weren’t on their way already, they sure will be now.

Jason is never going to let me out of his sight after this, she thinks ruefully, drawing her Glock. The diamond pin that Penguin gave her is displayed prominently on her shirt, but it won’t help her today. One of the few Rogues who doesn’t give a darn about the Pink Pin of Protection, and I’m right where he’s attacking.

Penny’s goal⁠—her only, entire goal⁠—is to leave the mall. That’s it. It’s not to find Scarecrow. It’s not to take out any goons. It’s not even to rescue people, because she’s not equipped to do that safely. If she can help, she will, but the odds are bad. Fear Toxin doesn’t make for cooperative rescuees. All she wants is to get the heck out of the mall and let her darling vigilante boyfriend mother-hen her to death.

She has an advantage over the rest of the citizenry in her goal, even! Nightvision makes it very easy to get up and scurry toward the exit⁠—or at least she’s pretty sure she’s scurrying in the direction of the exit. The toxin is still pretty thick. She keeps her Glock low, ready to react to anything that tries to kill her, although she’s betting nothing will. The exit isn’t far and Scarecrow’s aerosol toxin takes a bit to fully affect people. It’s been maybe ten seconds since she put the mask on.

A hand suddenly emerges from the fog, needle-tipped fingers glinting brightly in the green haze of her nightvision. It isn’t reaching past her. It’s reaching for her neck.

THREAT, screams a voice that sounds a lot like Jason when he’s running her through drills. She whips her 43X up and opens fire.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

She doesn’t think when the mag runs out, just sprints and reloads along the way⁠—fumbling, ungraceful, but she gets the spare mag seated and chambers a round. If she somehow missed her assailant at point-blank range and those needles get anywhere near her again, she’s done for. The mask won’t save her from a direct dose. No more cautious scurrying for Penny Ledger, no sir! She ugly sprints until she bursts out through the door. Her hip flexors are going to feel it tomorrow.

“Penny,” Jason⁠—as Red Hood, of course⁠—says through the comms built into the mask. The beacon is functioning correctly, because he clearly knows where she is. It’s amazing how he crams an entire lecture into a single, rolling growl of her name.

“I didn’t know he was going to attack in the five minutes I was here, sue me!” she snaps, voice high with lingering terror. She’s still running, not slowed down much by the doors. She keeps running until she sees the Batmobile scream into the lot, followed closely by Nightwing’s motorcycle.

She slows to a walk, gasping. Her legs feel wobbly. Miraculously, her bag stayed on her arm the entire time. She stops and leans over, bracing her free hand against her knee, and wishes it was safe to take the mask off. That was too much sprinting for a forensic accountant. It feels like she’s going to barf.

“Penny!” Nightwing shouts, easily recognizing her⁠—probably thanks to the face bright pink mask. While Batman and Robin continue on toward the mall, he stops next to her. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she says unsteadily, forcing herself to go slow as she returns the Glock to its holster. “Just… ran too fast. Can I take the mask off?”

“If you have to. Are you⁠—”

She rips it off and dry heaves. “Ughhhhhh,” she groans, shuddering. “Oh my god. Okay fine I’ll do conditioning from now on. Cheese and crackers, I am so unathletic.” Her stomach rolls again, but she manages to swallow it down.

“Can you move?” Nightwing asks tensely. “It’s not safe until Scarecrow is in custody.”

“Might need help,” she manages. He ducks and threads her arm over his shoulders without hesitation. She has to swallow a few more times before trying to explain. “But⁠—uggh⁠—but about Scarecrow⁠—”

Dick must hear something through comms, because he goes stock-still halfway to the Batmobile. Then he looks at her. Even with the mask she can tell his eyes are bugging out. “Wh⁠—HOW?”

Yeah… Penny can guess what he just heard. She whines shamelessly, despite being a grown woman in her twenties. “I was only in there for five minutes!”

They start limping along again. “I know you wouldn’t run toward him. Right?”

“I headed straight for the exit,” she says indignantly. “He tried to personally stab me with his creepy needle fingers within ten seconds of me trying to leave, so obviously I defended myself.”

Nightwing helps her into the back of the Batmobile. She’s extremely grateful to sit down. “Hood is on his way,” he tells her, bracing his hand on the edge of the door. “You’ll be safe here until he arrives. Put your mask back on if you can, and if you can’t then don’t touch your eyes, nose, or mouth. Try not to breathe near your clothes either.”

“Got it,” says Penny, and puts the mask back on. “I think I’m good now. Go help everyone else.”

“Open comms if anything starts feeling wrong,” he commands, and then shuts the door and sprints off.

Penny slumps backward, letting the seat envelop her. Her hip flexors are already starting to throb… along with many other muscles and tendons in her legs. “Ow,” she whispers. “What the fudge monkeys.”

She should have taken that job in Metropolis. Then again, she wouldn’t have met Jason if she had. What are a few near-death experiences if it means she can have a hot, competent, secret-literary-nerd boyfriend?

A boyfriend who is definitely going to have a few things to say about this situation. And will probably implement some kind of civvie buddy system so she can’t wander off and accidentally land herself in the middle of another Rogue attack—not without him, at least.

“I am a normal civilian,” she whispers to herself like an affirmation, “and this is freaking ridiculous.”

She only has to wait about two minutes before Jason is there, ripping the Batmobile door open. Her breath catches when she sees him. They lunge toward each other and crash into a hug.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” he asks, running a hand over the back of her head. It’s sweet. He’s also definitely checking her for signs of a concussion. “I heard you throw up through ‘Wing’s comm.”

“I’m going to regret running that fast, but no one hurt me,” she assures him. “You were right about conditioning.”

“Told you.” He pulls away. “What happened? Everyone is listening, by the way. Say hi to the peanut gallery.”

Penny huffs at him. “I went to the mall for five minutes. Seriously, I timed it. And when I was leaving, Scarecrow attacked. I put on my mask and headed right for the exit. I followed every SOP we went over for stuff like this.” The terror is gone now, replaced by indignant outrage at the situation. She flails her arms unbecomingly. “And within ten seconds, Scarecrow personally tried to kill me! I didn’t find him, he found me! So it was either die or dump a mag into him, and I chose to live.”

“What the fuck,” says Jason. “Penny, are you cursed or something?”

“NO! I am a normal civilian who grew up normally and has a normal job and did only normal self-defense classes up until the Joker tried to kill me! I’m not cursed, Gotham is freaking cursed!”

“Gotham is cursed,” Batman growls in her comms, “but this is too much of a coincidence. Once is chance. Twice is not.”

Penny grits her teeth. “What, you think I set this up?” she snaps, bristling.

“No.” His response is so quick and assured that her hackles go right back down. “I know you wouldn’t. But there may be something going on here that will put you in danger again. I’d like to have one of my colleagues look you over for signs of… outside influence.”

“Well…” She glances at Jason to check what he thinks. He nods. “Okay. If you think it’s a possibility.”

“Thank you.”

She sighs and slumps against the car seat. Jason takes one of her hands and squeezes. “What was so important that you were willing to wade through crowds without me, anyway?” he asks.

Immediately, she feels her cheeks heat up. The bag is next to her hip. She just knows no one is going to let her live this down: she was in position to take out a whole entire second supervillain all because she wanted a perfectly orderly sock drawer. “Uh⁠…”

“What?”

“Shouldn’t you go help everyone else?” she deflects feebly.

Even though she can’t see his eyes, she senses that they narrow suspiciously behind the helmet. “They can wait.”

“Yeah, we’ve got it handled,” says Nightwing. “I want to know too.”

Penny grimaces and mumbles, “...sock drawer.”

Jason leans closer. “What?”

She reluctantly raises her voice enough to be heard. “I was organizing my sock drawer and needed a container for my no-show socks. The only one that fit perfectly was at a store in the mall. Sue me.”

“Oh my god,” says Spoiler in awe. “That’s so Penny.”

“Scarecrow is dead because you were organizing socks?” Robin pipes up incredulously.

Penny bristles again. “No, he’s dead because he tried to kill me. The socks were tangential at best.”

“Tt.”

Jason pats her shoulder. “Easy, tiger, no need to bite his head off. He’s just a little shit who speaks without thinking. No one blames you.”

Speaking of blame, there are a lot of sirens getting closer. Penny’s grimace returns. “Do you think Commissioner Gordon is going to be mad?”

Red Robin jumps into the discussion. “Mad?” he says, amused. “You’re going to get the key to the city at this rate.”

Her grimace deepens. “Noooooooo.” Jason pats her shoulder again. Conspicuously, he does not refute his brother.

She really should have taken that job in Metropolis.

Chapter Text

Penny’s sparkly pink Glock is in GCPD lockup⁠—again. When Gordon and Montoya enter the interview room, Penny is resting her face in her hands. The pile of gifts and flowers from officers is somehow even bigger than it was when the Joker died⁠—maybe because they actually know her now. Amused smirks and friendly ribbing had accompanied many of the gifts being dropped off.

“Well, well, well,” says Montoya with a shit-eating grin as she sits down across from Penny. “Fancy meeting you here again, Miss Ledger.”

“Ughhhh,” says Penny, dragging herself upright.

Gordon looks (and smells) like he was chain smoking before he came in, but he smiles at her anyway. “I take it this wasn’t on your schedule for today?”

“It wasn’t on my schedule for ever,” she insists. “I was in the mall for five minutes!”

Montoya nods sympathetically, a motion that contrasts sharply against the grin still on her lips. She’s having another excellent day thanks to Penny, it would seem. “Walk us through what happened, Miss Ledger. Start from when you entered the mall.”

Penny sighs, resigned to her humiliation. “Actually, it started with my sock drawer…”

This time the interview only lasts about forty-five minutes. Maybe they expedited the paperwork, who knows. Honestly it would have been thirty, but she showed them a picture of her sock drawer (“Wow, that’s… precise”) and they’d gotten caught up talking about organization strategies and systems optimization.

Unlike after the Joker’s demise, though, she isn’t escorted to the mall parking lot. Instead, she’s released to the loving mother-hen attention of the Red Hood (not that they know who he actually is). He’s waiting outside of the police station in her car and only relaxes once she’s sitting in the passenger seat.

“B’s ‘associate’ arrived,” he tells her as he starts the engine.

“Already?” That seems so fast. It’s only been a few hours since Penny shot Scarecrow.

“I was surprised too. I think she was both available and worried about a civilian.” He glances at her and then starts driving. “You realize you now have one of the highest ‘major threat’ kill-counts in the world, right? And definitely the highest for a, quote, ‘normal civilian.’”

She stares blankly at the dashboard. “…I’m gonna get assassinated so hard, aren’t I?”

He growls. “Not if I have anything to fucking say about it.” His hands tighten dangerously on the steering wheel for a moment. Then, they relax. “Besides,” he says in a slightly more comforting tone, “no one liked Joker or Scarecrow. As long as you avoid shooting anyone who has actual friends, I think the assassination odds are low.”

She sighs. “Right. Low odds. That’s been working out great for me so far.” Her knuckles are cool when she presses them against her forehead. Somehow, they smell faintly of Gordon’s cigarettes. “Okay. Compartmentalizing is my friend today. Where are we going, exactly? Please tell me you’re not about to drive my car to the cave.”

Jason snorts. “No. B’s sending the Batmobile to pick us up from one of my safehouses. The one close to your apartment.”

“Good.”

The Batmobile has autopilot, which is nice because it enables Jason’s desire not to let her out of arm’s reach and her desire to take a freaking nap. She dozes against him for the length of the ride and blinks back to awareness when they arrive, feeling at least slightly more emotionally stable.

Batman and Red Robin are both in the cave, speaking with a gorgeous woman in a stage-magician outfit by the computer. Penny thinks she’s seen her in a video or article at some point, but can’t quite recall. The woman looks her over quickly as she and Jason approach, then smiles.

“You must be Penny,” she says. “I’m Zatanna⁠. Batman’s been telling me all about your very long day.”

“It wasn’t long by choice,” Penny responds with a tired smile. “Batman thinks I’m cursed.”

“In Gotham, ‘cursed’ is basically the default.” She nods toward a chair. “Come sit, I’ll see what I can find.”

Penny sits, and Zatanna proceeds to mutter under her breath and alternately frown or look puzzled for the next five minutes. It’s… quite boring, actually. Penny quickly grows distracted by how much her legs hurt. It’s probably going to be worse in the morning. Maybe she should have some epsom salt delivered. Or tiger balm.

“Well,” says Zatanna eventually, startling her from her thoughts, “the good news is you’re not personally cursed.”

Batman’s perpetual frown deepens. “And the bad news?”

She taps her lips thoughtfully. “The bad news is there’s a trace of ambient magic, and for the life of me I can’t figure out where it came from. Whatever’s affecting you is doing so in a roundabout way. Batman told you that Gotham is cursed, right?” She looks approving when Penny nods. “It’s not just one curse, either, but multiple. Unfortunately for you, it could be one, or some, or all putting you in interesting situations with the local rogues’ gallery.”

“Any chance that it isn’t the city?” Jason asks. His arms are crossed over his chest forbiddingly.

Zatanna huffs a laugh. “There’s always a chance. But based on what Batman told me? That chance is… vanishingly small. If you want to get to the bottom of it, I suggest calling in the heavy artillery.” She shoots Batman a strangely amused look. Penny notes that his expression has turned even more sour than usual. “Jason Blood knows Gotham’s curses best. Save Constantine for if you’re feeling really masochistic."

Penny raises a hand like she’s in a staff meeting. “I don’t know who either of these people are,” she says, “but I vote no on masochism, thank you.”

“I second that vote,” says Red Robin quickly. Even Jason grunts in agreement. They must know exactly who Constantine is.

“Noted,” says Bruce, and he doesn’t look amused but his consternated expression has softened. “Thank you, Zatanna. I’ll contact Jason Blood.”

“You’re welcome,” says the magician with a flirtatious smile. She turns to Penny and the smile becomes sympathetic instead. “In the meantime, be careful, and try not to be alone. Allies will help.”

Penny nods. “I will. Even if I didn’t want to, I don’t think Hood is going to let me out of his sight for the next few months.” She smiles ruefully. “Fortunately I don’t really want him out of my sight either. He’s a lot better at scaring people away than I am.”

Zatanna laughs. “Oh yes, you picked a scary one.” She winks. “Make sure you get good use out of him.”

Penny’s face immediately turns crimson. “Ma’am,” she says, scandalized.

Jason’s laugh drowns out Zatanna’s. “Don’t worry,” he says, “she is.”

“SIR!”

Jason can’t go with her to work for a wide variety of reasons. He looks pretty disgruntled about it when she finishes her mandatory leave of absence (spent mostly in Jason’s safehouses and enforced by Tim, the hypocrite). The only reason he doesn’t go with her anyway is because she has special exception to carry while at work. She’d had to do quite a bit of training with the WE security chief first, but it had been so worth it.

“I’ll be fine,” she assures him the night before. “There’s going to be tons of security around me at all times.”

His lips are still set in an adorable disgruntled scowl as he checks her EDC belt and equipment. Again. If there’s one thing Jason doesn’t trust, it’s her safety with anyone but himself. If you want something done right, do it yourself is a radical understatement when it comes to him. “Be careful,” he says. “Plenty of nutjobs have attacked Wayne Enterprises over the years.”

Penny grins and presses a kiss to the top of his head with a loud, obnoxious MWAH. “I love you too.”

And it is fine! She goes to work and comes back to her apartment with absolutely no notable incidents.

For the first day, at least. The second doesn’t go quite as smoothly.

She's with her team visiting a WayneTech satellite lab, mostly because its Director managed to “lose” every single important receipting document for the past six months. Penny was massively skeptical, though her supervisor Andrea was not. Wait until you see him in person, she’d said grimly. And when they meet Director Davis in person… well. Penny gets it. The man is an organizational nightmare, to put it lightly. She can tell just by looking at him.

“I swear I had them all,” he says, disheveled and wild-eyed and, unfortunately, also a notable genius that absolutely cannot be fired. “They were in a bag! I even wrote ‘auditing’ on it!”

“And now you can’t find it?” Andrea asks, unimpressed.

“…unfortunately.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Davis. You can’t just stuff signed invoices into a bag. You need to scan and upload them within a week of the receiving date.”

The Director looks sheepish. “I know.”

She sighs. “We’ll see what we can find on-site. But… whatever we don’t find, you’re going to have to track down each of the suppliers and have them send a copy of the invoices. We’re also going to need two signed forms per invoice, one for you and one for whoever did the receiving. I emailed them to you.”

“But my experiments—!”

“Do you want to be accused of embezzlement?”

Penny and her coworkers watch the back-and-forth with interest, like a tennis match of financial compliance. The Director grimaces. “No, not again.”

“That’s what I thought.”

And then the wall behind them explodes.

Penny scrambles for cover as a frigid wind buffs her suit jacket. She drags her nearest coworker along with one hand and draws her gun with the other. She doesn’t need to turn to know who it is, but once she has the partial cover of a yellow delivery container labeled “flammable” (uh-oh) she turns and—

Yep. That’s Mr. Freeze alright, busting into the exact WayneTech satellite lab that she has only been inside of for fifteen minutes.

Goons pour in. He levels a massive freeze-ray machine at them while she’s still scrambling and says, “Give me the dexamethylhydrofluoroether and no one will be—“

He freezes abruptly, pun maybe intended, so Penny does too. Her Glock hovers at a low, safe angle. She thinks he’s looking right at her, but he isn’t attacking.

“Ah,” he says, stuttering, “Miss Ledger! I… was not aware you would be here at this hour.” The ray gun is hastily packed away. “My apologies, we will be going. Come, men, quickly.”

She watches in mild disbelief as Mr. Freeze and his goons beat a sheepish but hasty retreat. Several of the goons toss her apologies as they go. One of them even picks up a piece of the demolished wall and sets it gingerly back in place with a so sorry hand gesture before sprinting off.

It’s the first time her Pink Pin of Protection has ever seen serious action. She’d always believed it would work, but not like this.

Director Davis’s head pops up from behind the secretary’s desk. “Oh!” he says, nose smudged with drywall dust. “Can we just say the receipts were destroyed in a Rogue attack?”

Andrea—bleeding slightly from a cut on her forehead—regards him with disbelief. “No!”

Penny sighs and puts away her gun. Hopefully the curse expert will be available soon, or no one is going to let her leave the safe house at all.

Chapter Text

It’s not every day a mere accounting associate gets to sit in the Wayne Enterprises CEO’s office. Even rarer to be there with both the CEO and the founder. Penny would prefer not to be in the position for this at all, but. Well.

“He really just turned around and left?” Tim asks, frowning.

“You are literally watching the footage,” Penny points out, head in hands.

“I thought the protection deal would work out more like ‘pick her up and move her out of harm’s way,’” he admits, eyes glued to the screen. “Send a goon to escort you or something, you know.”

“They’re wary of her,” says Mister Wayne, leaning against the massive desk. “And wary of what happens if they hurt her. But not everyone will be.”

Penny takes a deep breath and drops her hands into her lap. “I know. Jason gave me a list. And flashcards.”

Mister Wayne’s lips actually quirk at the edges. “You’re a rare member of the uninitiated, Penny, and he cares about you.”

“I know.” She smiles, and it’s slight but very fond. “What do you think my odds are of getting home without him handcuffing us together?”

“Low,” says Tim, still watching the footage. “Lucky for you, Blood is going to arrive the day after tomorrow, and chances are he’ll be able to sort things out.” He finally looks away from the screen. “Until then, you’re on mandatory leave again.”

Tim isn’t that much younger than her, and more importantly Mister Wayne is turned in the other direction for the moment. She makes a face at her boss’s boss’s boss. He snorts and conspicuously doesn’t fire her.

“Stay with Jason in one of his safehouses,” Mister Wayne says. “This feels like an acceleration. We’ll cover his patrols, too, so he doesn’t have to leave you.”

She sighs. “Alright. I’m going to go home and feed Rhuby, then I’ll bunker down.”

Jason tells her he’s already on his way when he answers her text. It soothes her itchy, anxious feelings. She locks the front door behind her and goes to pet Rubarbara the attack plant and feed her a raw steak. When she's sure that Rhuby has been placated in advance of her coming absence, she goes to take a quick shower.

“Stupid cursed city,” she mutters, dumping everything in her EDC tray before stripping and tossing her clothes in the hamper. “Metropolis wouldn't have done this to me.”

Penny is rinsing the conditioner from her hair when she hears the front door open and shut. “Jace! I'm in the shower!” she calls, as if it's not obvious. “I'll be done in five!” He doesn't answer at first, which is fine.

But then he doesn't answer at all. She frowns, hands stilling in her hair. Why wouldn’t he…?

Someone chuckles. Adrenaline turns her vision as sharp as glass.

That’s not Jason.

“Gotham’s newest hero… slayer of Joker and Scarecrow!” A man’s voice echoes distantly⁠—on purpose, she thinks. He wants to be hard to pinpoint. He’s springing an ambush. He wants her dead.

Control your breath, a voice that sounds like Jason murmurs in her ear. She shifts toward the box on the wall but doesn't act yet. It will make too much noise. Her breath stays even and calm. If you control your breath, you control the fight.

“You did them a service, releasing them from this pointless existence. Did it feel good? Did you enjoy it?” the intruder croons.

He's closer now, but she still doesn't know exactly where. Maybe the kitchen. She has to assume he's between her and both Glocks. She has to assume he’ll win any physical fight.

“What a tragedy that you survived too… but don't worry. A hero deserves her rewards! And I've picked out a special place for your mark. Right where the slide bites the hand.”

Victor Zsasz, she realizes, mind flashing back to Jason's briefings. The serial killer, the one she was told in no uncertain terms to shoot on sight. He's near the doorway now, she’s sure of it. She's only going to have one chance here, and she has to know exactly where he is.

“Did you panic like a little animal when they threatened you? Did you hold the pretty pistol too high?” He chuckles, no longer throwing his voice, but it’s not enough. “So futile… but don’t worry. Death is mercy, and for you I’ll make it quick.”

A shadow falls on the shower curtain. There, she thinks, and finally presses her hands into the box’s exterior panel.

Penny only knew how to shoot pistols before she moved to Gotham, but Jason isn’t the one who taught her how to handle a shotgun. That honor goes to one Alfred Pennyworth, who also (secretly) gifted her a hot pink twelve-gauge Mossberg 590. Jason and Tim worked together to design the shower-proof box she keeps it in, complete with a quick-dispensing chute, and as she presses down the 590 falls with a soft kerthunk into her naked arms. She can’t see Zsasz directly, but she knows where he is. A flimsy shower curtain can’t do a thing to save him from a 2¾” inch rifled slug.

Penny braces and squeezes the trigger.

BOOM!

Recoil slams her like a linebacker, driving her upper back into the cold tile as she fights for balance. The curtain shreds under the assault. Light pours in through the ragged holes, and she watches the shadowed form topple to the floor. It hits with a heavy thud.

Never assume they’re down, Jason barks, and she doesn’t. She yanks the curtain aside and scrambles out onto the bathmat. Zsasz is on the floor, knife still in hand. The slug made a massive tear in his upper chest, and his breath rattles. His skin is covered in scars⁠—each one, she knows, from a person he took great delight in killing.

His eyes are open, fixed on her and wild with glee. The knife rises an inch from the floor. He laughs.

It’s the most terrifying thing Penny has ever seen, but her breath is still calm when she cycles the action and fires again. Her life won’t be marked on his skin⁠—ever.

Zsasz doesn’t move. The world feels distant and hollow and so very quiet after the thunder of the shotgun. Behind her, the shower is still running. She’s dripping water onto the floor. Her hands on the Mossberg are slightly slick with conditioner.

So much for my security deposit, she thinks inanely.

The front door slams open, this time with a panicked cry of “PENNY!”

Jason. Relief nearly brings her to her knees. She can’t quite figure out how to call him when her entire face feels frozen, but it’s fine. He races into the bathroom, Glock 40 drawn and ready. He stutters, eyes darting between her and the downed serial killer.

“Pen,” he breathes.

The ice around her throat thaws. “He was going to kill me,” she says. Her voice comes out flat. She doesn’t understand why. “He came for me. He came for me on purpose. He wanted to kill me.”

Her voice breaks on the last word. The rest of the ice thaws too as her eyes begin to sting madly. Jason’s image suddenly blurs.

“Shit,” he curses, closing the last of the distance between them. She sobs, sudden and so violent that it hurts. He takes the 590 and sets it down on the counter. He wraps an arm around her. Then he hisses “Fucker,” and the muzzle of his 40 flashes once. She flinches in surprise. He tucks her closer into his side.

“Why a-am I crying?” she asks him, bewildered. “I didn’t c-cry the other t-times.”

Jason holsters his gun and folds her into a full hug. “It’s different,” he says in a low voice. “Having their full attention instead of just being there… it’s different.”

Oh. She doesn’t try to stop crying, because that seems counterproductive. But she does contemplate what he said as her body does what it needs. Joker didn’t even look at me, and I didn’t see Scarecrow fully. But Zsasz…

Penny shudders. She never wants to be hunted like that again.

“I’ve got you,” says Jason, tucking his chin over the top of her head. “It’s okay. He’s dead.”

“We should⁠—” She pauses to sniffle. “We should call 911.”

“Oracle is on it.”

“Oh.” She’s starting to feel a little less rocked, but the adrenaline crash is making her cold and shaky. She curls her trembling fingers into his leather jacket. “...I think you technically desecrated a corpse.”

She can feel the disbelief roll off of him in a wave. “Only you would be thinking about that right now. Besides, what judge or jury in Gotham could possibly say it was unwarranted?”

Penny sniffles again and adjusts her grip. She’s getting conditioner residue on the leather. Hopefully it won’t cause any stains. “True.” A bunch of sirens are getting closer, which is nice. It feels like she’s missing something. The shower is still running behind them.

Her eyes fly open, all thoughts of crying abruptly forgotten.

“I’m naked!” she squeaks. “Oh my god!”

“Oh shit,” says Jason, as if he just realized too. He doesn’t let go of her, which is good because he’s providing the only cover she has right now, but he does raise his head. “Where are your towels?”

There’s no way she isn’t blushing from toe to scalp right now. “Back of the door,” she manages, dying of embarrassment. He seems to sense her reluctance to let go of him, so he backs them both up to the bathroom door and snags one of the towels to drape over her. She hastily takes it and lets go only long enough to wrap it around herself.

“Do you want to get dressed before the cops get here?”

That’s a lot less embarrassing than a towel. “...yeah.”

By the time the police arrive, she’s acceptably dressed and her hair has gone from sopping wet to damp. She even managed to quickly slap some moisturizer on her face. Jason only leaves arm’s reach long enough to let the police in while she sits curled up on the couch. Even that makes her adrenaline spike uncomfortably.

What if what if what if what if?

To her surprise, the Commissioner himself arrives with the second wave of officers. She stutters mid-answer when she catches sight of him approaching.

“Miss Ledger.” He nods. “Are you alright? We got a tip from Batman’s people that Zsasz was after you.”

“I’m fine, sir,” she says, brow furrowed. Jason’s arm around her tightens at the Commissioner’s words. “They knew?”

“They only found out a few minutes before he broke in,” he clarifies, and her breath catches. No wonder Jason was so terrified when he arrived. If she hadn’t deliberately put the Mossberg in the most vulnerable location in the apartment, he would have been… too late.

“Oh.” She swallows down nausea and the thought that in another world, thirty-minutes-ago Penny is dead in the bathroom. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

The Commissioner’s eyes slide over to Jason. “Not quick enough, but it looks like that didn’t matter. You’re the boyfriend, are you? The one with the 40.”

“Yeah,” Jason drawls, and something in his tone makes Penny think the Commissioner already knows. Or at least suspects. “I might have been too late too. Fortunately, my girlfriend is like the law-abiding civilian version of Batman.”

She elbows him, mostly out of exasperation. “Jace.”

“Not many people have a dedicated Shower Shotgun, Pen.”

“In hot pink,” the Commissioner adds, and she isn’t surprised that particular detail quickly got around to all of the officers. “You’re a remarkably consistent woman, Miss Ledger. Good. It seems to have saved your life several times over.”

She blushes again.

Then he turns back to Jason. “Correct me if I’m wrong, son, but have we met before?”

“We have,” he responds blandly. “It was a long time ago, though, and I was indisposed for a few years.” He smirks. “The rumors of my death were… greatly exaggerated.”

Realization flashes across the Commissioner’s face. “So, it’s true.” His expression is an interesting mix of emotions. “Welcome back, kid. You were missed.”

Jason pulls Penny even closer, but she thinks it’s more for him than her this time. “Yeah,” he says gruffly. “Well, once the clown was dead, I didn’t really have a reason to keep out of view. I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of me soon.”

They stay at Wayne Manor after the interviews and paperwork are finally done—Penny, Jason, and Rhuby, who seems angry that Zsasz didn’t get close enough for her to eat him. No one is taking chances on safety now.

Alfred is the first to meet them at the door when they leave the garage. Penny immediately tears up. Without thinking for even a moment about manners and propriety, she surges forward to hug him.

“Thank you,” she chokes out. She’s so tired of crying, but for this it seems okay.

He returns the hug without hesitation. “My dear girl,” he says, nearly as choked-up as she is, “it was my great pleasure.”

I’m safe, Penny thinks. I’m safe. It’s going to be okay.

Chapter Text

Jason Blood proves to be a tall, svelte man with dark red-brown hair and a white streak at the front. Penny blinks when she sees him, glancing between him and her Jason. Must be a Gotham drama thing, she thinks, and forcibly puts it from her mind. She is a completely normal civilian who has had a very long week, and she is not going to ask.

Zatanna is back too, which is nice. “Good to see you in one piece, Penny,” she says with a very knowing level of sympathy.

Penny’s answering smile is strained to put it mildly. Jason keeps her tucked close to his side, which is exactly where she’s been for the past two days. She would still prefer not to leave. “Likewise. Please tell me you have an idea of how to get Gotham to stop trying to kill me.”

“I don’t, but he does. This is Jason Blood, an occult scholar and demonologist. Among other things.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he says, inclining his head. “I will certainly do my best to give you an answer, Miss Ledger, and a solution if it can be found.”

The idea that there might not be a solution makes Penny’s stomach lurch. She takes a deep breath. “Thank you.”

He scrutinizes her for a moment and then nods to himself. “This way,” he says, leading her and Jason over to a wide, empty section of the cave. The rest of the Batclan perches all around, eyes intent, as he starts to draw some kind of circle. Apparently this is the kind of event that merits all hands on deck.

Well. Three villains are dead, so yeah. All hands on deck.

Penny’s anxiety climbs with each practiced, efficient line Blood draws. It’s complex. Even with his clear expertise, it takes long enough that she’s worried she’s going to barf.

“Relax,” Jason mutters, squishing her into his side. The rigid lines of his body armor are, once again, comforting. It occurs to her that she should probably ask for some too. Some nice, level IV plates. In pink.

“Relax? Wow, why didn’t I think of that before?” she grumbles back at him. He snorts. It makes her feel better.

When the circle is done, Blood places a stool in the center and beckons her forward. “Sit, please.”

Penny gingerly picks her way to the stool, careful not to step on any of the lines, and hops up onto it. “Uh, I still have my gun on me. Is that going to be a problem?”

That seems to amuse him for some reason, as if she’s asked whether the ritual has a dress code. “Not at all. Now, try to stay still.”

She takes another deep breath and looks around, counting each of the family members. Dick smiles at her; Bruce’s mouth is set in a flat line directed entirely at Blood; Damian is both hostile and vaguely intrigued; Tim is taking notes; Steph looks fascinated; Duke (the least familiar to her) is uneasy; Cass is perched on the railing above, and she waves when Penny looks at her.

Then Blood starts chanting, and Penny’s attention snaps back to him. The lines beneath her… change. The symbols darken as if the light is being consumed by them instead of reflected. Penny draws her legs up instinctively, bracing her toes on the stool’s top rung, and grips the seat with both hands.

The circle flares—deep, arterial red—and a thin, tar-black residue beads along the markings like sweat.

“Well,” says Blood, who doesn’t exactly look happy about this development. “At least we know it’s demonic now.”

“Demonic?” Penny squeaks, horrified.

“Oh yes. Gotham’s demon, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Gotham has a demon?”

He seems to find her open-mouthed horror a charming novelty. “It does, born of the wretchedness and violence heaped upon the land. And it seems to be the primary reason the city is fixated on you. Unfortunately, this does mean we require Etrigan’s involvement.”

This is apparently a bad thing, based on how everyone reacts. Zatanna comes to the edge of the circle and says, “Penny, come stand by me.”

She does so immediately, eyes wide. Jason brackets her in on the other side, and the rest of the Batclan moves closer.

“Change, change the form of man,” Blood begins to chant. “Free the prince forever damned. Free the might from fleshy mire. Boil the blood in heart of fire.” His voice rises as he begins to glow with infernal light. “Gone, gone the form of man, rise the demon Etrigan!”

In a whirlwind of fire, Blood disappears. An utterly terrifying being takes his place, giving voice to the final word of the incantation⁠—his own name, Penny guesses. Etrigan the demon regards her with blood-red eyes, and she takes back what she said about Zsasz earlier.

This is the most terrifying thing she’s ever seen.

No one says anything. Her heart pounds like a jackhammer behind her ribs. If not for Jason’s arm around her, she thinks she would have turned and sprinted away. A silly little Glock isn’t going to save her if this demon wants to rend her apart.

The cave is eerily silent for a moment. Then, without saying a word, Etrigan bursts into deafening laughter.

It’s not a mild laughter either, but bent-over, hands-on-knees, wheezing laughter, as if she’s just told the funniest joke he’s ever heard. It doesn’t make her unafraid, but it does pop the bubble of her terror and replace it with profound confusion.

“Um,” she whispers to Zatanna without moving her eyes, “is this normal?”

“No. This is a first.”

Etrigan straightens upright, still chortling, and finally speaks. “No greater amusement could ever I find than Gotham’s fiend in such a bind.”

“Bind?” Batman echoes. “What does that mean?”

The demon laughs again, freshly amused. “One pure lamb is all it takes to make the Bat in his prison quake. He gnashes his teeth and howls beneath, for your every breath is a torment worse than death!”

“Me?” Penny echoes, aghast. “But what did I do?”

His eyes fix on her again. She presses instinctively into Jason’s side. “Do, little girl? You misunderstand. It is what you have not done that forced his hand.”

Zatanna frowns. “The demon wants her to do something? But what? And why?”

He grins widely. “Like thorn in flesh from a single rose, her nature stands too far opposed. Virgin blood and heart of a mule: she simply refuses to break a rule.”

Blank silence pervades the cave as everyone processes the declaration. Then Jason says, “Well that can’t be right. Everyone breaks rules, especially in Gotham. I’m sure Penny has broken the speed limit or something.”

Penny frowns at her boyfriend. “Why would I do that?”

There’s another pause of an entirely different kind. “...you’ve never broken the speed limit? Ever?” Tim asks slowly.

“No. Why would I do that? The traffic authority sets limits based on safety and traffic flow. It’s not arbitrary.”

Etrigan wheezes again as everyone else becomes increasingly disbelieving.

“You didn’t break a single law when defending yourself from Joker,” Batman murmurs with dawning realization. “After that, there were… opportunities. Small ones at first. Chances for you to engage in criminal behavior with little to no repurcussions.” His eyes narrow. “And they’ve only gotten bigger over the months—until the demon grew impatient.”

“You have to have at least jaywalked or something,” says Jason with an edge of stunned incomprehension.

Penny steps back from him enough to put her hands on her hips. “Jaywalk? In Gotham?” she says, incredulous that he’d even suggest it. “That sounds like a great way to get run over and fudging die!”

Steph joins Etrigan by bursting into laughter. “Oh my god!” she says gleefully. “Penny doesn’t even swear! Notorious crime lord Red Hood got the ultimate goodie-two-shoes girlfriend!”

Penny flounders. “I⁠—I am not a goodie-two-shoes!” she insists. “I’ve been mean and rude before! I have guns! I’ve⁠—I’ve used them! Three times! I just don’t see the point of breaking rules because it’s inefficient!”

“Your little lamb has proven too much for the fearsome Bat’s most desperate clutch!” says Etrigan. “BWAHAHAH!” 

Zatanna pinches the bridge of her nose. “Right. So, Penny, you’re going to have to break the law. And you’re probably going to have to keep breaking it in a minor, non-harmful way, just to be safe.”

Penny whimpers.

Twenty minutes later she finds herself in front of a makeshift firing range with borrowed ear protection on, getting ready to break a Gotham city law (and general good-sense rule) that she considers sacred. Unfortunately, it’s also very easy to break when given a large group of determined vigilantes with tons of resources.

“Okay,” says Jason, handing her a shot glass full of vodka. “Drink and then empty a mag. You should probably swear while you’re doing it too.”

Penny glances at the alcohol, then at the peanut gallery. Etrigan had refused to leave, gleefully citing how much fun he was having watching everything unfold and listening to the irritated howls of Gotham’s demon.

“Do I really have to swear?” she asks. Half a dozen Looks bombard her and she backpedals. “Okay, okay, fine!”

She takes a deep breath and faces the target. Then, abruptly, she forces her spine to straighten, slams the shot back, bellows “FUCK!” at the top of her lungs, and squeezes the trigger.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

Penny doesn’t know what Gotham’s demon looks like but she imagines its face on the target. It’s not nearly as cathartic as she’d hoped.

“This is so pointless and inefficient,” she moans, setting down her Glock and running a hand over her face. “What, do I have to keep doing this every week?” The thought is horrifying. What if she actually hurts someone? No alcohol around guns is a rule for a reason!

“Actually,” Barbara says brightly, speaking from over the Batcave’s speaker system. “I have a better idea. How do you feel about joining the Birds of Prey as a vigilante forensic auditor? It’s good work, but it’s definitely not legal.”

Steph bursts into laughter again. “Holy shit!” she wheezes, “My prediction was right! Please can we give her a glittery pink grappling gun?”

Jason bristles at the idea of her being out on the streets, but Barbara interjects first. “No, she’s not going out at night,” she says, exasperated. “She’ll get a secure workstation with me, nice and safe.”

Penny grimaces. “It’s better than having a demon sending supervillains after me, I guess.”

Cass appears at her elbow. “You are good at what you do. Can catch many thieves.”

“Welcome to vigilante life!” Steph says gleefully, slapping her on the back. “We’re so happy to have you, Miss Penny ‘three kills’ Ledger!”

“Please don’t say it like that,” Penny sighs, defeated. So much for being a completely normal civilian.

The strangest thing to come out of speaking with Jason Blood and Etrigan is learning that no, Gotham’s demon actually had nothing to do with her taking out the Joker. Apparently that was one hundred percent bad luck. Three days was not nearly long enough for a random law-abiding (“Goodie-two-shoes!” Steph insists) citizen to personally irritate the demon.

“I guess we would have met anyway,” Penny tells Jason later, when they’re alone in her guest room upstairs. Today has been a lot, and she’s glad he’s tolerant of her primal need to curl up against him and feel normal again.

“Yeah,” he agrees, eyes closed. “As long as you were the one to take out that damned clown, I was always going to find you.”

“You do hate him way more than everyone else. Why is that, anyway?” He stills, breath catching. She gives him a curious look. “What?”

“Oh. I forgot you wouldn’t know,” he murmurs. “I hated him because he beat me to a pulp and then blew me up, back when I was Robin. Then one day I just… woke up in my grave and crawled out.” He sighs. “It was my mission for a while to try and make Bruce kill him. That’s where the whole crime lord thing came in. Then the bastard finally gambled on the wrong target, and I couldn’t be happier.”

Horror makes her freeze for long enough that he cracks open an eye to check on her. “What’s wrong?”

“I⁠—” She stops abruptly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. It’s not enough. She has to count backward from five before she’s sure her voice isn’t going to crack. “Do you need me to be factual or can I react like a normal girlfriend?”

He looks a little spooked by her question. “Oh shit, uh, you can react like normal?”

“Good.” She clambers into his lap and wraps herself entirely around his head and shoulders, as if she can shield him from the past.

“Okay,” says Jason, muffled, “I will admit this is not the normal normal reaction.” Still, he drapes his arms across her lower back and doesn’t object to being smothered.

Penny tries to swallow down the lump in her throat. “You didn’t deserve it. And I’m sorry you had to suffer through that. It wasn’t your fault.”

He’s quiet for a moment. She feels the tiniest hitch in his breath. “...thanks, baby.”

Then they’re both quiet for a while. Penny blinks against the stinging in her eyes, determined not to cry. This isn’t about her. It’s about Jason.

“You know,” she says at length, “if I’d known that before I went to the mall all those months ago, we wouldn’t have had the problem with a demon trying to get me killed.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

Vicious fury makes her protective embrace around his head tighten. “Because I would have broken the law by dumping my entire second magazine in the clown’s stupid fucking face,” she snarls.

Jason bursts out laughing. He shifts until she sits back and takes both her hands. There’s a new lightness in his expression she’s never seen before. “Have I ever told you I love you?”

Penny coyly returns his smile. “Oh, once or twice. I could stand to hear it more.”

“I love you.” He pulls her in for a kiss. “I’m kinda glad Bruce didn’t kill him, now. I would have missed out on a totally normal civilian girlfriend if he had.” He pauses. “Plus I don’t think I would have enjoyed kissing him near as much.”

“Jason.”