Chen Mo stood on the baggage cart, watching Deadpool reattach his wrist.
Click.
Deadpool even shook his hand out.
"Not bad," he said. "Four stars for pain. Docking one because Gotham's walls are too damp. Bad feel."
Chen Mo drew a breath.
He raised a hand and shot out a web, sticking it to the sword at Deadpool's feet.
Deadpool looked down at the sword.
Chen Mo dragged it away.
"You're so annoying. Can you shut up?"
Once the words were out, Chen Mo himself froze.
"I can't believe those words actually came out of my mouth without Peter Parker even being here."
Deadpool looked up.
"Who's Peter Parker?"
"That's not important."
"Sounds important. Secret identities in dialogue are usually important, especially when there's a dot in the middle."
"Deadpool."
"Whoa, you recognized me."
"Keep babbling and I'll pretend I don't."
Deadpool clutched his chest and took half a step back.
"Are all you Gotham bat-themed heroes like this? First you give people hope, then you make them pay an emotional price? You've played with my feelings."
Batman punched an oncoming Talon away.
The Talon slammed into the turn of the stairs, crushing half the sheet-metal cabinet behind him. The cabinet door sprang open, spilling a stack of old freight waybills. Melted snow and dust settled onto the paper together.
Deadpool glanced over.
"Is the big guy dressed like an accountant's nightmare always this busy?"
Chen Mo jumped off the baggage cart.
"Hey, Batman, hear that? Pay up."
Batman didn't turn around.
"What?"
"He's here for money." Chen Mo twisted aside to dodge a slash from Deadpool, stuck a web to a platform billboard, and slid along its surface. "Your corporate finance department should be pretty familiar with the most direct way to deal with mercenaries."
Deadpool chased after him.