Requested Character: Sasha Bordeaux
Summary: How many times could a woman die and be reborn?
Spoilers: Through all of The OMAC Project and Infinite Crisis.
Once upon a time, Sasha had thought she was tough. Hard. A
fighter, a bodyguard, and a protector. But Bruce's grief and loss had
made her crack like an egg, the shell coming apart piece by ragged
piece. The 911 tape of Vesper Fairchild's murder cracked her open some
more, and listening to it over and over had made her weep for a woman
she couldn't stand. Then prison. Bruce's abandonment. The night she'd
sat next to her handwritten false confession, a poor man's Kevlar too
late to protect her from the fatal bullet wound.
That was before Maxwell Lord promoted her to his Black Knight.
Murder never made her cry anymore. Not much did.
"Waller wants you back ASAP," Jess said. Smoke billowed from the
wreckage in the sand, flames flickering over her face, reflecting off
the sweat beading on her forehead.
Sasha pinched her arm. Felt flesh bend under her fingertips.
Not metal, not a... composite polymer/ceramic/metallic mixture. Not
anymore. Sasha felt the heat and grit, ash stinging her eyes and
getting in her nose; she couldn't stop smiling. "Safe house first."
Everything hurt, from her little toes to her eyelashes. She'd gone to outer space
in a ship shaped like a bug, elbow to elbow with metas and legends. And
she'd destroyed Brother Eye as Batman asked, exploded that
presumptuous, metallic piece of shit all the way back to hell where it
She knew Batman would win his fight if he hadn't done so
already, a limping, injured kind of win that only went down as a
victory in the history books because there were too many funerals for
Earth's heroes to plan to be happy about it.
Yeah, they'd won. Now all Sasha wanted was a long, hot shower,
a new uniform, and flat surface to crash on for about the next five
years. The four hundred thread count sheets were optional.
"Safe house it is," Jess agreed.
"The Wall won't like it," Fire told them, gazing at the wreckage
of Brother Eye. Her arms were crossed, but she didn't look committed to
making them obey.
"The Wall can kiss my ass," Sasha said.
Jess grinned. "Let's move out."
The other inmates had called her "Queenie" in prison. Queenie and Fancy Pants. Sasha and Bruce. No name and Batman.
Everyone had thought they had money and airs, that they were
weak, that after a couple of days inside they would cry on their knees
begging for their mothers. The inmates couldn't have known how wrong
they were. Bruce Wayne had done his job too well, and so had Sasha.
She'd taken the bullet for him. A slow death bullet, a gut shot that
would take years to bleed out.
Sasha had spent months hating herself for doing that. Batman
was her principal, and he'd never needed her protection. But maybe
Bruce had needed her, if only just the once.
Sasha didn't want to come out of the shower, didn't want to stop feeling hot water and soap and a razor against her skin. Skin. A rush of cool air made the hair on her body prickle and stand up.
"You look a bit David Bowie about the eyes," Jess said from the open doorway, cocking her head to get a better look. "Not bad."
Sasha blinked the water out of her eyes. "Help me with this, will you? I can't reach the shell on my back."
Jess stared at her for a few seconds, a corner of her mouth
turned down in thought. "What the hell," she said, and stripped off her
uniform. She stepped in the shower stall behind Sasha, soaped her
hands, and began prying the metal off Sasha's body with her
It felt like ripping off a bandage, like peeling burned skin,
like picking fingernail polish or peeling paint chips from walls. Sasha
concentrated on her front while Jess got her back; the loose metal
clicked against the bottom of the shower stall until all of it was gone
but for a stubborn spot here and there. Her eye. Part of her arm. Sasha
didn't want to look too closely. Not exactly perfect, but it would do.
She was more woman than machine now, just the way she liked it.
"Mmm," Sasha hummed. Behind her, Jess chuckled.
It had been a while since she and Jessica had been easy like
this. Months. Ever since Sasha had become Maxwell Lord's sword and
shield -- or rather, ever since she'd gotten good enough for Max to notice
her. Losing Jess's trust should had been one of Sasha's many regrets,
but it had kept both of them alive long enough to see Max to go down.
"We were good once," Sasha said. She felt warm and loose,
speaking the truth after pretending to be faithful to her King for so
"Yeah, we were," Jess said. She pressed her forehead against the back of Sasha's neck. "Dammit, Sasha. You could have died!"
Sasha didn't apologize. She just turned around in the shower,
felt Jess's body slick and warm against her own. Sasha cupped Jess's
face and kissed her. Jess gathered her close and opened her mouth,
kissing Sasha back as if she had missed this more than she'd let on.
Sasha had missed her too, but she was used to going without sex or
touch, or having anyone to talk to at the end of the day.
Sasha slowly let her hands slide down Jess's neck, over her
breasts and abs. When she finally slipped her fingers inside Jess's
body and touched her clit with the pad of her thumb, Jess laughed,
holding onto Sasha's shoulders so she could widen her stance.
"Oh, damn," Jess moaned. "I forgot you were as good at this as you are at everything else."
Sasha had never had any privacy in Blackgate, but it didn't
matter. Hostile eyes meant nothing. She'd been tried and convicted, and
there hadn't been anything worse that they could do to her. Not without
the gas chamber or a shiv made out of a toothbrush.
Visitors were allowed every Thursday, for an hour. Not too many
people had bothered to come see her. She had no family and no friends.
People in her line of work had business relationships only. Made things
Working for Checkmate under Maxwell Lord had been worse than
prison. A domino mask could hide a multitude of sins; making one out of
her own face had taken more effort than she'd realized.
Only then had she felt the smallest iota of sympathy for what it must be like for him to go out in public as Bruce Wayne.
Jessica had her spread open, her damp, dark hair brushing the
insides of Sasha's thighs. Sasha dug her heels into the mattress as
Jess licked and fucked her with her tongue. The sheets stuck to her
back and her hair tangled in her eyelashes, and her neck felt like
somebody had pulled her strings too tight, but it was perfect, just
fucking perfect. She was wet and she could feel her pulse beating under
Jess's tongue, and if she didn't come soon she was going to shoot someone.
"Jess," she said. "Dammit, Jess, would you just --"
Jess pushed three fingers inside her and pressed up. Her breath
caught in her throat, Sasha closed her eyes, arched her back, and came.
A moment later she felt the mattress dip as Jess got off. The faucet
came on in the bathroom. Sasha's sidearm was still on the nightstand,
easily within reach.
The air in the room moved as Jess exited the bathroom; the
slightest whisper of fabric indicated she'd put the uniform back on.
Someone knocked on the door, and Jess stepped into the hallway for a
"Fire says our transport will be here in an hour," Jess said as she climbed back onto the bed.
"Wake me in forty-five," Sasha told her drowsily. Jess's arm was a welcome weight on her body.
"Sorry I didn't trust you," Jess said, her lips brushing against Sasha's throat. "Guess I should have known better."
"You weren't supposed to," Sasha said, opening her eyes. "Kind of the point."
"Well, you did learn from the best," Jess said with a lopsided smile.
Jess had never liked Batman. She never hated him, but
she never quite forgave him for busting up her face, for screwing up
Checkmate's missions, and probably most of all because Sasha refused to
discuss him. There was something inevitable about Batman. He wasn't a
fairy tale, or even a nightmare. He just was. A myth, a legend, and a man she had fallen in love with a lifetime ago.
Jessica's had been the first face she'd seen when she had woken
up from prison, and the last face she'd seen before she died the second
time, as much of a constant in Sasha's life as Batman. How many times
could a woman die and be reborn?
Sasha hoped she wouldn't have reason to find out.