The Villain Wrangler

Different Kind of D&D

The Iceberg Lounge was not merely a bar, Danny had come to realize as he sat at a table on the second floor of the establishment. The iceberg sculpture in the middle of the main floor alone made the place stand apart from other night clubs, let alone the fact that a well-dressed band was playing jazz on top of it. He had a feeling there was much more than just the restaurant, bar, and club area that was visible, seeing as the Rogue - Boomerang- had said Penguin owned the lounge. He wasn't stupid- almost all Gotham residents recognized his name as being behind some of the city's organized crime.

The man also had his connections, since it appeared he knew Danny would be coming. So, for the past two nights, he had been welcomed into the VIP second floor area, the disappointed whines of other guests floating up behind him. The bouncer merely nodded at Danny as he unlinked the red velvet rope before glaring at the few that tried to sneak past. Only those with permission were allowed in the "business" area.

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked up as he sensed someone approaching his secluded spot. It wasn't without some difficulty, but Danny managed to not widen his eyes too much at the sight of the heavily armed and armored individual that sat down across from him. The red-ish eye scope the man wore did nothing to mask the glare sent his way.

"Man, you must be some kind of stupid to be looking for people like us," Deadshot said point blank.

Danny merely sighed. "If I had a nickel for every time I've heard a version of that..." He flicked his fingers towards the sniper scope. "Reason for that?"

Deadshot's glare held steady. "Lesson 1: keep all eyes open when you're in this crowd, kid." His lips twitched upwards slightly. "There's over fifteen people here who could kill you in the next twenty seconds.

Fifteen? Danny counted quickly and could only spot eleven, which drew a snort from the mercenary when he voiced his findings. "Ain't that the point?" Deadshot asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "That Australian bitch said you wanted to find me. Start talking."

Danny rolled his eyes. "There's this kid, Chris; he's twelve. He had both legs amputated after some complications from a car accident the other week." He pushed the file in front of him across the table, watching with interest as the other man rifled through it. "He asked to play a round of HALO with you and Deathstroke." Danny didn't miss the fresh glare sent his way.

"I was right- you are some kind of stupid," Deadshot sneered. "On the off-chance you convince me, what's saying you'll get him to come too?"

Danny smiled innocently. "Oh, he already knows." He flicked his eyes towards the stairs. "You think I didn't know that he was the bouncer?" He crossed his arms. "Who else wears an eyepatch with their disguise?" Danny wasn't going to mention it had taken hours of internet searches and another call to Cold before his suspicions were confirmed.

It was silent for several moments before Deadshot began to chuckle; Danny watched the man in amusement. "I see what the others meant now."

"Others?"

The assassin looked up at him as he pulled out a pen and scribbled a number onto a bit of the folder he had torn off. "Congrats, kid, you're famous." He handed it over before standing and nodding slightly. "Contact me about when to show up."

Famous? Danny contemplated as Deadshot disappeared into the club. Fantastic. That was the last thing he wanted. But, if it helped with the new path his job was taking, he was fine with it. He pocketed the slip of paper and made his way out of the establishment as well. "See you on Thursday," he called over his shoulder at the bouncer (aka Deathstroke in disguise). The man's face remained blank, to Danny's amusement.

It took him until halfway through his drive home to realize that he hadn't been intimidated by either assassin. He wasn't sure whether or not that should worry him. Maybe he was going crazy.

When he walked into his apartment to find Harley and Ivy lounging on his couch again and called out a greeting to the women, he became positive that some of his screws were loose.

"Hiya, Danny!" Harley grinned. "We needed a place to relax for a while and whadya know, your place was close by!"

He raised an eyebrow and turned towards Ivy to get the full story. "Bats was on patrol and we decided to crash here for a few hours."

Yup. That sounded right.

"Besides, now you get to finally meet our Kitty!"

"Your wha-" Danny started to ask incredulously, but stopped short when he felt someone press up against his back and place their hands lightly on his shoulders.

"So this is the new specimen the underworld's raging about?" The woman purred, her nails pressing ever so slightly into him. Danny carefully detached himself and spun around to face the newcomer. His eyes widened as he found himself facing a woman covered only by a towel wrapped around her torso; the fabric, which he recognized as being his, barely reached the top of her thighs.

Danny crossed his arms in annoyance. "Is that my towel?" He asked rhetorically.

The black-haired beauty shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't worry; I used a clean one." She smirked and slipped back into the bathroom. He really hoped she had brought a change of clothes in there.

"I should just give you ladies your own keys," he said with a sigh, moving to sit next to Ivy.

"If you'd like to make this arrangement permanent, go ahead." She stared at the television in amusement as Harley flipped through the channels. "Who's the latest victim of your lovely visits?"

Danny tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. "A pair of sassy assassins." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the slip of paper with Deadshot's number on it. "At least he didn't give me another burner..."

"Ooh! Nearly forgot," Harley said excitedly, reaching into a brown backpack that rested by her feet. "Selina got this encrypted cell for yah when I mentioned that yah had too many phones-" She was cut off abruptly by Ivy slapping a hand over her mouth.

"Harley!" The green woman hissed. Danny looked over to see Harley roll her eyes. "You weren't supposed to say her real name!"

"Sowwy?" She said from under Ivy's hand.

Danny coughed awkwardly to remind him that they were here. "If it makes you feel better, I can stick to calling her 'kitty.'"

"Your funeral!" The mentioned woman called from the other room.

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In reality, his funeral came several days later as he escorted the pair of heavily armoured assassins into the long-term recovery ward of the hospital. Danny listed off the ever-expanding rules in place for these visits.

"No shooting real weapons, no purposefully intimidating hospital staff or family members, no answering questions about killing people, no swearing, no fighting. Got it?"

Deathstroke turned towards him; Danny was sure he was glaring under his mask. "This ain't my first rodeo, kid."

"It is with me, so deal with it," Danny shot back. He gave a tight smile to a visibly frightened nurse as they stopped in front of their visitee's door. "And remember, his name is Chris."

"Alright, alright," Deadshot grumbled. "Get lost." He opened the door and led the way into the room. "What's up, kiddo?" Danny heard him ask gruffly as Deathstroke followed him in. He caught a peek over their shoulders of Chris's eyes brightening in excitement at their arrival.

"Woah! I can't believe you both came!" He said happily, holding out controllers for both men to use. "The lady in charge couldn't get either of your names right, so I was worried they wouldn't be able to find you guys."

Deathstroke pulled over a chair to sit beside Chris. "Never miss the opportunity to show Deadshot over here who's the better man."

"Oh, you're gonna be eating your words soon, old man."

Actually, they both did. They may be the best assassins in the world, but Chris was a far better gamer than them.