The ropes spilled onto the floor, untangling like a noodle. Bruce pressed a button on his cufflink. Deep within the confines of the Batcave, the Batmobile revved.

Now all that was left were the half a dozen goons in the back of the truck and the Penguin, peering out of the back of the truck to make sure the job was done.

Piece of cake, Bruce thought. He’d be done before dinner.

…

A radio crackled on Robin’s bike.

“Robin,” said a voice, the voice of a girl. “Bruce is just up ahead; you’ll have to hurry though. Penguin is nearing city limits and we can’t risk him firing that weapon when they’re civilians around.”

“Thanks Batgirl,” Robin said. There was something very familiar about his voice that Peter couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“There’s a Batgirl too?” Spider-Man asked. Robin ignored his remark.

“So, Spider-Dork,” Robin asked. “You coming or not?”

Hell yeah, Peter was. Sure, he didn’t like Batman or his green underweared sidekick but if he could rescue his childhood hero and manage to get that high-tech weapon off of the Penguin’s hands, it would be a win in his book. He was just about to give up until Robin came along.

“Hell yeah,” Spider-Man said. “As long as I get to drive.”

Robin laughed. “Keep dreaming.”

“Come on,” Spider-Man said. “At least let me touch the handle-bars.”

Spider-Man tried grabbing on to the accelerator but Robin slapped his hand.

“No touching.”

Spider-Man mumbled something underneath his breath about green underwear.

Robin revved the gears. the bike shook vibrated causing Spider-Man to almost be shaken off.

“Hold on tight,” Robin said. “I’m about to gun it.”

“How bad could it be?” Spider-Man said.

The bike slid across the road like a rollercoaster and before long, Spider-Man was holding onto Robin’s hips for dear life.

…

Bruce could feel the cufflink beeping slowly and steadily. The Penguin turned around grinning.

“These weapons are one hell of a thing, eh Bruce,” Penguin said, he sauntered towards Bruce, Vibranium weapon in hand. The goons, relieved that Spider-Man had been dealt with slumped onto the floor, one of them keeping an eye out of what remained of the door, just in case any uninvited guests started to pop up.

“I’m sure you’re not going to tell me where you got them?” Bruce remarked.

Penguin grinned. He placed the Vibranium weapon carefully in the crate, like it was a bomb about to go off. “Still got a bit of mouth on you Brucie? You won’t be so clever when I’m done with you.”

The beeping was a bit faster now, though it would be a while before Bruce could make his escape.

The Penguin shuffled around his coat, grinning. “Vibranium weapons sure are fancy,” Penguin said, sneering. “But… now you can call me old fashioned but I prefer the up close and personal approach.”

From inside his coat, he pulled out a pair of brass knuckles.

The Penguin grinned. “They’re not going to recognise that pretty face of yours when I’m done with you.”

The Penguin walked up close to Bruce, pulling his face up delicately, almost tenderly to meet his beady eyes and sneering face then let go. The Penguin raised his fist and struck him.

Bruce spit out blood. The beeping was getting louder now.

The Penguin grinned, sneering at him. “How did that feel Brucie boy? Did that hurt? Do you need a hug from mommy?”

The Penguin gasped. “Oh wait.”

He let out a burst of hideous laughter that sounded like the cawing of crows.

“I am going to enjoy this,” the Penguin said, wiping a tear from his eye. “I’m going to enjoy seeing the mighty Bruce Wayne grovelling on the ground.”

The beeping was at its loudest now. The goons were suddenly up, their weapons pointing at someone, at something. Bruce grinned.

“Why the hell are you grinning?” Penguin growled. “Huh?”

The Penguin raised his fist but before he could strike, he was interrupted by a high-pitched voice.

“Boss,” the voice screeched. “You might want to see this.”

The Penguin turned around and the brass knuckles clattered on the floor.

…

“Hey Batboy,” Spider-Man said.

“Stop calling me that,” Robin mumbled.

“Where’s the big man?” Spider-Man asked. “I thought he’d be shivering all the way up to his pointy ears seeing that one of Gotham’s most influential billionaires is in trouble.”

“He’s brooding.”

“Brooding?” Spider-Man said. “At a time like this?”

“He says it’s important.”

“He does not have his priorities in order.”

Robin grinned. “Tell me about it.”

The voice on the radio spoke up. “You guys are getting closer.”

“What about you?”

“I’m on the way,” Batgirl said. “There’s been a hiccup, something got in my way?”

“A hiccup?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

The radio fizzled to static.

“Who’s that?” Spider-Man asked.

“Batgirl.”

“She seems like a sweet gal.”

Robin scoffed. “You clearly don’t know her as well as I do.”

There was a sudden rush of wind and the sound of mechanical plates getting into position. The shock of which almost caused Spider-Man to fall off the bike.

“What the hell was that?”

Zooming in front of them was a 1000-kilogram pitch black tank zooming around the road like a Ferrari. The Batmobile rushed on ahead without a single care in the world.

Robin grinned. “Our hiccup.”

…

Bullets bounced off the Batmobile harmlessly, clanking on the floor like useless pieces of tin.

The Batmobile hummed and whirred, from the bonnet appeared cannon. Penguin’s thugs tried shooting at it but the Batmobile swerved avoiding the weapons. The cannon fired electric darts that caused the goons to drop like dominoes.

Bruce got up, stepping over the stunned bodies of Penguin’s goons who were all dazed and confused. The Batmobile at the back of the truck Bruce was about to jump inside when he felt something poke at his chest.

The Penguin, still dazed had the tip of his umbrella by Bruce’s chest.

“I’m not letting you go Brucie boy.”

Bruce quickly turned, the Umbrella firing upwards and bashed Penguin’s face against the side of the truck. After making sure he was knocked out, Bruce jumped into the Batmobile.

…

Spider-Man and Robin saw a black speck hopping into the Batmobile.

“He’s safe,” Robin said.

“What about Penguin’s guys?” Spider-Man asked. “Looks like they’re up to something.”

As if answering his question, the truck the Penguin was in skidded ahead and the circle of half a dozen trucks surrounded it. The doors of those trucks burst open and from within the dozen vans, thugs clambered on top of the truck, others were in the back, all of them had automatic weapons. To make matters worse, the back door of the truck in leading the rear slammed open revealing a thug with a…

“Is that a gatling gun?” Spider-Man asked.

The goons opened fire. Robin swerved to avoid the rain of bullets hailing on them. Spider-Man’s spider sense was buzzing like a school alarm.

Robin swerved his bike behind the Batmobile where the bullets didn’t leave so much as a scratch on its sleek black metal surface.

“Can’t your Bat-Dad do something?” Spider-Man asked, screaming his question out loud as his question drowned in the sea of bullets.

“Please don’t call him that,” Robin said. “If Batman does do something, he runs the risk of killing some of them.”

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“What about those electric thingies?”

“They’re in limited supply,” Robin explained.

One of the bullets grazed Spider-Man’s shoulders.

“So now what?” Spider-Man asked. “Do we just die?”

The radio on Robin’s bike buzzed. “Robin.” It was the voice of Batman, cold and formal. “They are two trucks flanking the Penguin’s truck and the Vibranium weapons. I can handle the one on the right that leaves you and Spider-Man with the one on the left?”

“What about the others?” Robin asked. “Especially the one with the goddamn gatling gun.”

“Batgirl’s in the woods,” Batman said. “When I give the order, she’ll appear and handle the others.”

“By herself?” Robin said, the sudden burst of passion taking Spider-Man aback. “Batman that’s insane. She can’t…”

The radio cut off. Robin sighed.

“Who’s this Batgirl?” Spider-Man asked. “Your girlfriend.”

“None of your business web-head,” Robin said.

Spider-Man raised his hand in surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to be so edgy.”

The Batmobile suddenly swerved to the side taking a brunt of bullets. And shooting out of it like a bullet was Batman. The goons all had their weapons trained on him now and were about to fire when…

Spider-Man and Robin started knocking them out. Spider-Man webbing up their guns and Robin knocking them out with his strength, throwing the same boomerang things at them that Spider-Man saw the Batman use. Meanwhile Batman wasn’t falling far behind, he threw a small disabler device when he jumped on the thug’s guns that caused their weapon to emit a burst of electricity when they tried to fire it causing them to drop their weapons. All of Penguin’s men on the other trucks had their weapons trained on him but before they could fire, they were greeted by a sudden burst of smoke.

On of Penguin’s men tried knocking Robin across the head with a wrench, Spider-Man quickly webbed up his hand and yanked him backwards, his head hit the metal surface of the truck and he was knocked out.

“Hey Batboy,” Spider-Man said. “Pay more attention to your surroundings.”

Spider-Man’s head started buzzing. One of the thugs had regained consciousness and had his gun pointed at Spider-Man. Before he could fire Robin pulled out his grappling gun and disarmed him, yanking the gun away. He then leaped over Spider-Man and kicked him across the face.

“Could say the same about you, red tights,” Robin said.

“Doesn’t have the same ring as Batboy.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “But at least when I’m in costume people don’t see my crotch.”

Spider-Man looked down and then back at Robin again. “Good one.”

Meanwhile the Batman was no where to be seen. Carl, the man behind the gatling gun sighed. He really wanted to do in the Bat for putting him down at Blackgate. Left him with a black eye too. Carl had it in for that pointy eared son of a bitch ever since them. After all, he was just a dude in a black suit with a bunch of fancy technology. He wasn’t like that Captain America guy who could carry entire trucks. Carl still had some of the playing cards.

Frustrated that he wouldn’t be the one to do the Bat dirty, Carl fired at the Batmobile. The bullets bouncing harmlessly off its sleek metallic surface. Carl wondered if the Boss’s fancy high tech weapons could do something to that glorified tank. After all it was made out of that fancy Vibralium or whatever. Carl didn’t care about the specifics.

The boys up top were dealing with the Batman’s colourful sidekick and that Spider-Man character. That just left Carl with a handful of goons up top with that Indian Chandu as a driver. Carl hated Chandu. Pretentious prick.

“Yo Carl,” Jeff called from up there. “You okay down there?”

“Yeah,” Carl replied. “Bored out of my wits though. How are y’all holding up?”

“Fine,” Jeff said. “Spider-Man and Robin are giving the boys a run for their money. Seems they’re headed straight to the boss.”

Carl chuckled. “Seems like we’re safe here. What do you think happened to the Bat? You think he chickened out. Eh, Jeff.”

Jeff didn’t reply.

“Jeff?”

The truck suddenly veered off course. Carl heard someone yelp. Carl heard horns honking and tyres screeching until the car suddenly crashed into a tree.

He heard some pained grunts that were silenced, he heard heavy fists. Not knowing what to do Carl sought the metallic comfort of the gatling gun. Even though there was a thick veil of smoke obscuring his view, Carl was ready to fire at anything that moved in front of him.

Not turning around to see the figure in black behind him.

…

The trucks suddenly broke formation as the one with the gatling gun veered so dramatically off course. The truck Spider-Man and Robin were on veered dramatically. Robin tripped downwards but Spider-Man stopped him from hitting the asphalt with his webs.

“Nice save, tights,” Robin said, staring at the asphalt beneath him that was inches away from grinding his nose into an ugly red and white paste. Spider-Man pulled him up, heaving a little. Suddenly, behind him one of Penguin’s goons raised a club about to knock him out.

Spider-Man’s senses were buzzing, he knew there was danger but he couldn’t let go of Robin.

A sudden flash of light and the revving of an engine stopped the thug in his tracks. A bike flew over them like a comet and clattered on the other side of the road. There was a flash of yellow and the man was kicked across the truck, a line stopped him from being reduced to bones.

“Thanks,” Spider-Man said, as he got Robin back up on the truck. Spider-Man turned to see a woman wearing a mask with short pointy ears goggles plastered on top, more stubs than anything and flowing red hair. She wore a tight leather outfit over a slender body and a big yellow symbol that looked like a bat in the middle complimented by yellow gloves and a yellow cape.

“Hey boys,” Batgirl said. “Did you miss me?”

“I don’t even know you,” Spider-Man said. But boy, did he want to know her.

But again, something in his gut told Spider-Man, told Peter that he knew these people. Batgirl’s red hair looked awfully familiar.

Robin placed his hand on Spider-Man’s shoulder. “C’mon tights, let’s head out.”

Robin attached a tightrope to the last truck. The Penguin’s truck. The thugs all had their fire concentrated on the Batmobile after Batman broke their formation by dealing with the gatling gun, leaving Penguin ripe for the taking. All they had to do was zip across and tie up the midget and they were home free.

“So uh,” Spider-Man said, walking up to Batgirl. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Batgirl,” she said with a straight face.

“Are you Batman’s girlfriend or…?”

Batgirl laughed. “Hell no.”

“Is he your father?”

“Please stop trying to associate me with him.”

“But you’re called Batgirl.”

Batgirl tried attaching a line to the Penguin’s truck but all she was greeted with was a hiss of air.

“Stupid thing decided to stop working now,” Batgirl groaned, slapping the gadget a few times and letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Need a little help?” Spider-Man asked, walking up to her side.

“No, I can handle myself,” Batgirl said.

“Really?” Spider-Man asked, Peter raising an eyebrow but realising Batgirl probably wouldn’t be able to see that.

“Stupid thing,” Barbara muttered under her breath, slapping the gadget against her thigh.

“Will you two lovebirds hurry it up?” Robin called, standing atop the Penguin’s truck. “I don’t have all night.”

Barbara growled, hitting the gadget against the truck. That’s when Spider-Man did something Peter would never do. He grabbed her by the hip.

“Hey,” Batgirl shouted, Spider-Man pulled her close and Batgirl slapped him across the shoulder. “Let go of me before I pepper spray you. Let go of…”

Spider-Man attached a web to the truck, zipping across towards it. Barbara screamed as she was whizzed across the air, both her and Spider-Man landing on the roof with a thud.

“How was that?” Spider-Man asked, Peter grinning under the mask.

Batgirl tried to hide the giddiness she felt and the newfound feeling of respect she had towards the boy behind that webbed mask.

“That was,” Barbara said, trying her best to hide her grin.

Peter waited in anticipation; it was the first time he’d touched a gorgeous girl, unprovoked (besides MJ, but MJ was his best friend, this was different). It made him both nervous and excited, his heart was beating so loud he wanted to make it stop so that Batgirl wouldn’t hear it. Peter was eagerly awaiting her response and…

“Terrifying,” Batgirl exclaimed. “Let’s never do that again!”

…

The wheels of the trucks exploded beneath them. The trucks swerved, crashing into the forest, coming to abrupt halts. The GCPD were closing in on Batman, they would clear out the trash. Meanwhile, Batman had only one goal, one focus. To get to the Penguin’s truck. They were closing in on the city and if that weapon was let loose it would destroy lots of important infrastructure and cost the lives of thousands.

Batman would not have that.

And so, he cleared the trucks one by one, causing them to swerve to the side, launching electric bolts to short circuit the batteries. The doors of one of the trucks swung open and from it came a man with a grenade launcher. He fired.

It barely made a dent.

The Batmobile, efficiently tore through the trucks one by one, making sure not to kill the men holed up in the trucks. Murderers and rapists, they may be but Batman swore, he vowed, never to take a life. No matter how despicable.

And soon they were no more trucks, they were no more vehicles. Save for two, the Batmobile and the Penguin’s truck.

…

The door slammed right in front of Skinner.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you Skinner.”

Crawling through the window, dressed in red was the Spider-Man. He slid through the window in a way that made Skinner’s stomach lurch. Sitting on the seat next to him and staring at the windshield.

Skinner tried to open the door again but Spider-Man shut it again with those webs of his, webbing the entire door shut.

“Now, now Skinner,” Spider-Man said. “Let’s not get too hasty.”

“W-What do you want?” Skinner whimpered. Letting out a high-pitched cry. “P-Please I’ll do anything. I-I’ll pay you.”

To Spider-Man’s surprise the guy was crying. And even though his mask covered the worst of it, Peter could smell the strong stench of urine in the air. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was a criminal, Peter would probably have felt sorry for the poor guy.

“As much as I need the money, surprisingly I also have bills to pay,” Spider-Man said. “I’d rather we do something simpler. How about we drive to the GCPD building?”

Skinner nodded, a little too quickly. The truck zoomed on ahead. Now Peter did not know the way to the GCPD office but judging by the shine on Skinner’s face from all the sweat running down his body, he figured Skinner wouldn’t be pulling any fast ones.

Spider-Man placed his legs on the dashboard and hung back, hands resting behind his head.

As they entered the city grounds, Spider-Man felt something off. Robin said once they’d deal with the Penguin they’d knock against the side of the truck. 30 minutes and there was no knock.

Spider-Man pat Skinner on the shoulder causing him to jump. “Keep on trucking Skinner, pun intended,” Spider-Man said. “I’ll be right back.”

And Spider-Man crawled out of the window, slithering out of it like a snake. Skinner could hear his heavy footfalls, his crawling against the side of the truck. It made his heart stop and when the sound disappeared, he let out a sigh of relief.

The psychiatrist at Blackgate called it arachnophobia and man what he would pay to not experience that again.

…

Spider-Man did not expect to see a high-tech weapon pointed straight at his face.

He was about to fire his webs but the Penguin cut him off.

“Don’t try anything,” the Penguin said, grinning. “Or this itsy-bitsy Spider will go down the water spout.”

Spider-Man raised his hand in surrender. At the back of the truck he noticed Robin leaning against the wall, blood running down his shoulder and Batgirl trying to treat the wound. A rather dazed thug pointing the nozzle of the machine gun at the base of her skull.

And just at that moment the truck entered city grounds.

The Penguin grinned, an ugly sick grin. “It would be a shame if this went off in the city, wouldn’t it?”

The Penguin pressed the trigger, a blue ball of energy formed in the centre.

“C’mon Penguin, old buddy, old pal,” Spider-Man said, Peter trying his hardest to stop his voice from shaking. “Maybe we can work a deal out.”

“Pal?” Penguin said, smirking. Taking in this moment, savouring it like a man at a restaurant. “If I recall, you called me short.”

Spider-Man met Batgirl’s eyes. She nodded at him. Robin’s eyes fluttered open.

“That was a joke,” Spider-Man said, laughing nervously. “You know how friends make jokes.”

The ball was getting bigger. The Penguin’s grin was getting wider.

“All I have to do is pull this trigger,” Penguin said. “And squish this little spider.”

He knew it would be stupid but Spider-Man had to do something. Anything. If this weapon was let loose in the city there was no telling what it could do.

“What’s the matter Spider-Man?” Penguin sneered. “Cat got your tongue?”

There was a loud pop. The truck lurched causing the weapon to fly in the air. Spider-Man leapt for it but he missed it by inches, it clattered on the floor. The Penguin scrambled for it but it clattered towards Batgirl who tried to grab it but the thug tripped and the gun hit the wall. Robin dazed tried to get it but the goon pushed him out. Stumbling like zombies, Robin and the thug walked out the truck causing both Batgirl and Spider-Man to grab them and get them out of the way.

Batgirl and Spider-Man met on a roof, Spider-Man holding the thug and Batgirl holding Robin.

Below them the Batmobile hummed, cutting around corners, skidding past cars and crashing into lampposts and traffic lights.

“You go handle the Penguin,” Batgirl said. “I’ll take care of Robin and chuckles over there.”

Spider-Man nodded and ran off the building, attaching a web to the sides of the building and following behind the Batmobile.

The truck was swerving and jerking. Penguin stumbled back and forth, the Vibranium weapon shaking in his hands. His thug’s unconscious bodies were littering the streets, causing the Batmobile and oncoming traffic to violently turn to avoid their bodies.

The truck was missing its right wheel, causing the axle to emit a shrill metal screech with a trail of sparks following suit.

The truck righted itself, swaying a little but still it corrected itself. The Penguin’s grip on his gun was firm. He would get this son of a bitch and end it, once and for all.

The ball grew and grew, the Penguin sneered. To hell with Gotham. He would be the one who killed the Batman.

The Batmobile’s lights flashed upon him and the Penguin was face to face with the metal goliath. Still he remained calm, his finger on the trigger.

Batman had his finger inches away from the eject button.

Spider-Man saw the ball grow and grow.

The Batman ejected.

The Penguin fired.

And a wave of destruction followed.

To be continued…