A/N: Not really satisfied with this chapter but here we go.
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Sitting at the back of a taxi, Liam waited with a frown as he watched the empty field in front of a warehouse. The driver stared into space, silent.
It was night and with each minute that passed, his frown got deeper. Just as he was about to pull out his phone to make a call, he spotted a black car driving into view.
Stepping out of the taxi with a case in each hand, a man in a black suit exited the other car. He didn't need Appraisal to tell him that he was one of Cobblepot's men.
As he expected, Cobblepot wanted more Euphoria. His customers were going through it fast and its addictive nature kept them coming back for more.
Last time it was sixty kilos he ordered, now it was a hundred. He knew the man still wanted to get the formula but he could also guess that the sales were giving him a lot of money.
Kevin had also texted him for more of it but he delegated the delivery of that to David. It was clear which customer needed his personal attention between the two.
"You're late." Liam said, frowning at the man who looked her over.
"I guess we lost track of time. We're here now." The man looked at the cases in his hands. "Is this all of them?"
"The rest is in the car. Where's the money?" Liam asked, prompting the man to bring out two cases from the back of the car, dropping them at Liam's feet.
A quick appraisal told him that it was complete. His payment; 1.5 million for 100 kilos.
It only took a few moments to have the rest of the drug-filled boxes into the henchman's car before walking back into the taxi, his money in hand. There was no need for any unnecessary talks between them, it was just business.
With that done, he signaled to his compelled driver to drive off.
Xx-Xx-Xx
Almost a week passed since he delivered Sportsmaster to Batman and nothing had yet to happen. The man had been locked up but no more assassins or hitmen had been sent since then.
He warned to say he was satisfied but he knew that it was only a matter of time before someone else would come knocking, for the cure or for something else.
Shutting the door as he walked into the apartment, he was met with the view of Artemis lazily lying on the couch.
"You're back late." She said in a matter of fact tone, sitting up. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She had seen him packing up the cases after all, he made no effort to hide it seeing as how it was his house. Better for the confrontation to happen sooner rather than later.
"What is there to talk about?" He asked, moving to the kitchen as she rose to her feet, following him with her eyes.
"You, dressed in all black clothes and carrying a shady suitcase that looks like it came out of a nineties movie." She said, not budging.
"Trust me, you don't want to know the answer." He intentionally didn't attempt to hide his activities from her for a handful of reasons.
One of those reasons being that her knowing about it couldn't stop him. She couldn't go to the authorities given her wrap sheet and even if she managed that, any 'evidence' was stashed in his inventory.
The second reason was that he wasn't blind. He knew where this closeness between himself and Artemis was going. Selling drugs was probably going to be one of the least illegal things that he'd do.
If she couldn't handle that, then she'd back out and save themselves the drama of finding out later.
"Try me." She stood her ground, hand on her hips as she stood in front of him.
"Don't say I didn't warn you." He said, taking a large gulp of the soda he'd found in the fridge, making a mental note to get more later. "How do you think I pay for this place? Yeah it's not big but it still costs money to live here."
The look on her face told him that her brain was already running wild trying to figure it out.
"I'm something of a chemist. I make drugs and sell them to whoever wants to buy them. It's how I figured out how to cure Valerie too." He continued, watching her body go still for a moment. It was subtle but he caught it.
"So that case you took out earlier…" She spoke slowly and carefully.
"A request from a client." He helpfully supplied.
"But why? Why drugs? Like Gotham isn't already messed up enough with all the problems it has." She pressed further, some frustration appearing on her face.
"How many employers would take a sixteen year old for a serious job?" He shot back before sighing at the look on her face. "You can judge me if you want but I have dreams too. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life playing catch up with the rest of the world."
-[Artemis]-
It made sense now, just a bit. Why he wasn't so fazed with everything that had happened so far. Why he wasn't bothered by her familial connections. He was basically a drug dealer.
She wanted to judge him. She wanted to say that she could but she couldn't. Not when she'd done worse. Under Sportsmaster's tutelage, she'd done a lot, one such occasion requiring her to act as muscle for a drug deal to get her acquainted with how things were done.
Not to mention…they'd avoided the topic but she knew that Liam had figured it out already. She wasn't proud of it but she'd killed before, sometimes under the label of 'Tests' from her father.
She had her own ledger in blood. Her whole family did. So as she watched him leave, walking to the bedroom, she wanted to call out to him. The look in his eyes as she berated him about why he could do such a thing, it only had sadness that he tried to hide with nonchalance.
She couldn't help but feel disappointed in herself for her own reaction when he'd been nothing but supportive to her.
Her voice failed her as she tried to call his attention, so she did the next best thing. Rather, she moved without thinking.
Quickly moving to him and grabbing his hand, he turned to face her only for her to capture his lips with her own. She felt his shock as he was unresponsive for a moment before he relaxed, kissing her back.
Fireworks lit up in her brain at that moment, barely stopping her shaking knees. This was really happening.
-[Unknown Location]-
In a dark room, seven monitors converged together, white figures shrouded in light being present on each monitor.
"The acquisition of the miracle drug has been a failure, as was the attempt to purchase the others from the auction." A male voice said from one of the monitors, annoyance evident in the way he spoke.
"Patience Luthor, we must reassess, as new developments are coming to light. We now know that whoever makes them is related to the Jones family and they have someone powerful backing them." An aged male voice came from another monitor. "Until we figure out who this new player is, we cannot spare further resources on that front. Another opportunity will present itself."
There was an annoyed hum from the earlier speaker but no further complaint was made.
"What about Sportsmaster?" A female voice said as another screen lit up, showing a prison cell.
A blond man sat in the corner, his entire appearance disheveled and a crazed look in his eyes as he muttered incomprehensibly, rocking himself on the ground. Sportsmaster, or rather, what was left of him.
"A lost cause for the moment. According to Strange, he is suffering from a severe case of withdrawal. Until we can decipher how to restore him, a new enforcer is needed." The aged voice narrated as a door opened up.
A tall man in orange and black armor walked in, long white hair leaking from behind his mask.
"Deathstroke, welcome to The Light." The same voice said, the armored man lifting his mask to reveal a single eye, the other hidden behind an eyepatch.