Batgirl Arrives | By : AdultBat Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 14777 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series nor any of the characters from it. No money has been or will be received by me for this story. This story is for adults and cannot be redistributed for the purposes of financial gain. |
The only other item on Barbara’s agenda for the following day was a Board meeting of the Gotham Public Library. It was scheduled to start at eleven and end at two. At two o’clock the meeting was still in full swing and there were still several items left on the agenda. Barbara looked at her watch and thought, “As long as I am out the door by two-thirty I am fine.” The meeting continued to drag and at two-thirty five she noticed that Bruce Wayne who was sitting at the other end of the table was fidgeting, too. “I guess I am not the only person who must be someplace else as well. Don’t these people have other lives?” At two-forty five, Barbara folded her leather portfolio and quietly excused herself. She headed for the nearest door. As she placed her hand on it she felt another hand immediately cover it.
“Sorry, Miss Gordon, it appears we both are needed elsewhere.”
“Yes, Bruce, I guess we are.” He opened the door for her and motioned for her to continue. Out the door and into the hallway they both realized that they were headed in the same direction. Neither was comfortable with each other’s presence at this moment. Not wanting to appear rushed Barbara asked, “So how is Dick doing in his first year of college?”
“Oh, the young fellow is doing well, achieving good grades and participating in many activities like sports.”
“Jesus, Bruce, you make it seem so formal. It’s just college. Now that he is no longer under your protective eye, I hope he is letting go and more of a party animal.”
“Well, Dick is quite a serious young man, Barbara. I imagine he is booking it diligently and exercising his participation in recreational activities judiciously.”
“God, you are impossible. Remind me again, why do women swoon over you?”
The pace of their traipse down the hall had quickened. “I guess some women just have a cultured eye for a pearl like myself. Do not knock that which you do not know. You could be pleasantly surprised.”
“Please...” Barbara’s voice trailed and that was the last conversational word they exchanged. “I can’t believe he would try to hit on me. These overly rich boys always think that there is a mystery to them. There isn’t a thing about Bruce Wayne that isn’t numbingly transparent.” As they walked out into the open of the street Barbara considered letting Bruce offer her a ride in his limousine but decided at that time in afternoon the subway would be quicker. As she turned away they exchanged brief farewells.
Back at her apartment Barbara methodically stripped as she plotted her strategy for this meeting. Her voice had recovered completely so she could not rely on that for disguise. She needed to put them on the defensive as much as possible and keep their attention diverted. One way to distract them was with her costume. Definitely she would forsake undergarments for this summit. She chose her one-piece kevlar outfit that required a little more effort to put on but added a bodaciousness that she needed. It had a hidden back zipper that went down to her butt but when she zipped it up the seam magically disappeared leaving a costume that appeared painted on. She scrutinized herself closely in the full-length mirror of the small dressing room. The protective leotard hugged and accentuated her bosoms bringing out their authoritative shape and fullness. It also complemented her legs and bottom featuring their muscularity without compromising her femininity. It had a very sleek look without her cape or utility belt. She put the belt on first and the cape next. Each accessory was individually reviewed. Although she hoped to some day drop the wig, today she knew it was necessary. She was amazed how different she looked and felt when she placed the wig on her head. That, more than the mask, gave her the confidence for a more powerful personality. Finally, she put on her gloves which also layered seamlessly onto her costume. She liked the way she looked. She was hot and she was ready.
Before leaving she called her father’s personal line and asked if he was free for her to come over. “Sorry, dear,” he replied, “but I have a big pow-wow with Batgirl to clear the air. You’ll be very proud of me, Barbara, I am prepared to listen openly to what she wants. I think she may be alright.” Barbara had only called to set him up for later but this revelation was better than anything she could have hoped for. She expressed her regrets and said she would call him later.
Cruising the streets of Gotham certainly had a different feel in the daytime. First of all, the attention she drew was unmistakable. Heads turned and people called out. Many were shouts of encouragement and cheers to Batgirl to ‘give them hell’. She did not mind the compliments and felt further empowerment from them. Nevertheless, she remained focused on her meeting. In front of police plaza she noticed the Batmobile already parked in front. She considered pulling in behind it but for her own benefit chose to park her bike in front of it instead. Stepping off the bike, she ran up the steps of the building to the entrance.
As she approached her father’s office, she almost blew her whole practiced charade. “He is not Daddy, he is the Commissioner,” she repeated to herself. Yet, when she asked the secretary to see the Commissioner she almost thanked the woman by name. The near slip up went unnoticed and she was instructed to enter immediately.
Batgirl opened the door and locked eyes with the Commissioner. She walked directly to him without visually canvassing the room. She shook hands, turned to her right, and introduced herself to Chief O’Hara. He gave a gruff acknowledgement. Without turning she said,
“And is that you in the corner, Batman?” She did not have to look. Years of being in her father’s office with the Caped Crusader there she knew his favorite spot near the alcove window. Chief O’Hara blinked in amazement at Batgirl’s observatory powers.
“Yes, it is I,” he replied.
“Well it is a pleasure to meet you for the first time as well.” Batgirl spun around and extended her hand. She wanted to make Batman come to her. After a slight and imperceptibly brief pause, Batman decided manners counted more than ego and walked toward her. As he neared, she noticed him checking her up and down. “Perfect,” she thought, “keep looking.” What was not so comforting was the sight in the corner of her eye of her father checking her out as well. She would have to deal with that unpleasant situation later.
Batman’s grip when shaking her hand oozed surety and well balanced strength. She was careful to maintain eye contact with him the entire time. She could see him in momentary conflict torn between using his psychological skills to assess her personality and visual skills to capture her appearance for a cross referenced familiarity. Neither was successful.
She released the clasp and turned toward the Commissioner. “Sir, I believe you know why I am here.”
“Yes, Batgirl, the three of us were just discussing it.”
“And…” maybe this would end much sooner than expected.
“I am afraid it is more complicated than you perceive.”
“In what way, sir? Is there a test you want me to complete on either the law or physical strength?” Batgirl petitioned.
O’Hara jumped in, “We ain’t deputizing anyone we don’t know, so be a good girl and show us who you are under that mask. Come on, lass, make it quick.”
Batgirl did not flinch. “Did you hear that, Batman? They want us to take off our masks. Come on let’s show them who we really are.” She knew the Commissioner did not know Batman’s real identity. They had talked about it often in the past. He used to wonder but had long since given up on ever discovering it.
“No, no, no just you, girlie. I don’t need to see Batman. He’s already deputized on my force.”
Batgirl did not respond to O’Hara. Rather she directed her comment back to her father. “Commissioner, I hardly think it is fair for me to have to de-mask in front of you all just for some curious fancy. I know of no provision in the code of deputies that allows for grandfathered secret identities. I am perfectly willing to reveal my identity at this moment if Batman is willing to do the same.” She turned to Batman and challenged, “are you up to it, Batman.”
The Commissioner did not give Batman the time to respond, “O’Hara, we do not have to discuss identities now. There is a more grave concern. Batgirl, you assaulted an officer of the law.”
“While it is true I engaged physical contact with an officer,” Batgirl began, “I only did so after determining it was necessary under Article 4, section 3, sub paragraphs 7 to 14 under the Gotham City penal code. I believe there are adequate precedents for its use.”
O’Hara fumbled, “I don’t know what you are referring to.”
“I believe I can help, Chief,” Batman interrupted. “What Batgir—what she is saying that, due to fear of imminent harm to herself and evidence of behavior by the officer, which either had or would contribute to a crime occurring, she chose civil authority to restore order. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Batman, that is what I, Batgirl, said. Do you have a problem saying my name, Batman?”
“I am sure that I will have no problem saying your name once you tell me what it is,” he parried.
“I believe I already introduced myself. Commissioner, I must have been mistaken. I thought this would be a constructive meeting. If it is going to be a chest thumping exercise, I think I would rather fight crime.”
“No, wait Batgirl. You must admit the situation is awkward. These two men represent my most trusted officers. I am proud to say I would gladly go into any battle with them. You cannot expect to walk in and receive immediate acceptance.”
“Your point is fair, Commissioner. I have come here for two reasons: to clear my name and to continue to fight crime. What evidence do you have to support the officer’s claim against me?”
O’Hara jumped in, “We’re mounting a substantial case, young lady, just you wait and see. Nobody assaults my crew and walks off scott free.”
“Commissioner, I am interested in hearing the evidence you have against me.” As Batgirl was saying this, she discreetly pressed to a button on her utility belt. The Commissioner’s private phone rang.
“Excuse me, gentlemen--I mean-- lady and gentlemen. This will not take long.” The Commissioner picked up the phone. “Gordon here. Oh, hello Barbara. Listen I am a bit busy right now. Can I call you back? What? Dinner? Yes, that will be fine. Goodbye.” Late last night Barbara knew she needed an extra diversion in case any of the men were too clever. She knew exactly how her father would respond to a call from her during an important meeting (she had a lifetime of experience) and digitally recorded her voice accordingly. She even took the precaution of having several versions recorded if he deviated from her planned script. She could control it all from her Batbelt. “I am sorry,” he continued, “where were we?”
“I am waiting to hear hard evidence of a wrongdoing,” Batgirl pushed. She did not like to be tough on her father but it was necessary. Besides, speaking right after the phone call would reinforce the idea that Batgirl and Barbara Gordon were separate individuals.
“Well, in that regard we may be able to work something out.” The reality was the cop’s story stunk. He did not believe it, nor did many of her blue brethren. Thankfully, Batgirl was a female or the problem could escalate into ugly dissension. “However, the deputy issue. I just do not know. It is not something we want to do often. Yes, Batman is deputized but since he has such an established reputation it is quite easy to manage with the public. Your situation may be different.”
“Commissioner, I believe I have a solution,” proposed the budding but sultry criminologist. “If you think I need credibility, have me hang out with Batman for a period of time. If anyone can ensure I know the ropes, it is he. Besides, with Robin gone, I am sure he could use the help.”
The surprise of the suggestion hit Batman harder than any foe. “Commissioner, I assure you, I do not need any assistant.”
The phone rang again. “Gordon. Yes, pumpkin, what is it? Is who here yet?” Then his voice went down to a whisper, “Barbara, she is here now. I’m busy. I will fill you in over dinner.” He was slightly embarrassed but the second call did the trick. Maybe one call could be faked but not two. Ah, the advantages of knowing how her father would react in certain situations!
“No, Batman, I think I like this idea,” said Gordon returning to original Caped Crusader, “this might provide a better balance in our stance against crime.”
“Commissioner Gordon, I must protest. You know the caliber of archenemies I square off against. They are not the usual street trash that she has been dealing with. Having anyone other than my trusted partner, Robin, could be life threatening.”
“Nonsense, Batman. When you first walked in here with Robin he had barely begun puberty. Frankly, I thought your choice of him was a bit peculiar. However, he blossomed into a true asset—and he was very green, greener than his shorts. No, Batman, this will be the best thing for Gotham City and I want you to seriously consider it.”
“Yes Batman,” Batgirl began as she moved closer to him and look deep into his eyes, “what could possibly go wrong. You (as she touched her finger to his chest) are the best crime fighter bar none.”
Batman did not like being backed into a corner. He could defy the Commissioner and flatly refuse but that would not be good form. Gordon had been a good man and used the law to make Batman’s job easier. He was particularly chagrinned by the way Batgirl had manipulated the conversation. He needed to find out more about her.
“Okay, Commissioner, I am in. I will assist Batgirl through her internship.” Turning to Batgirl, he extended his hand, “it will be a pleasure working with you.” As their palms touched Batman uncharacteristically also reached out with his left hand and touched her shoulder in an apparent display of camaraderie. Actually, he placed a tiny tracing sensor on her cape. If he had to work with her, he was determined to know her identity.
Batgirl was elated. She achieved everything she had hoped for. “Well gentlemen, if there is no other business…Batman, when would you like to begin, tomorrow evening?”
“Tomorrow will be fine, Batgirl. Shall we say 10PM?”
“Ten is great. Where shall we meet?” she asked, not wanting to miss any details.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find you,” Batman proclaimed with a typical confidence.
Batgirl did not want to go back home. She won. She was vindicated and deputized. She bested Gotham City’s foremost police minds. She straddled her bike and decided to day cruise the neighborhoods she had been frequenting at night. That’s right. Let them see who is out there waiting for them. With her new confidence she was ready for trouble in the wide open. On the course of her victory tour, she crossed paths with Batman two times and gave him an acknowledging nod at each instance. He nodded coolly back in return. The third time they crossed in a completely different section of town, something seemed peculiar about the frequency. Finally, on the fourth coincidence she realized he was following her.
“That bastard. Who does he think he is?” she grumbled. Batgirl decided to venture into a neighborhood she previously had not visited to make sure Batman was not merely checking her out in her known haunts. “Let’s see how good he really is.” And with that, she throttled her bike and jetted off through a maze of alleys and streets losing the Batmobile for good. Or so she thought. When he arrived in the same fashionable district within minutes she concluded he must have some sort of tracing device planted on her or the bike. Unfortunately, she could not tell which. She cursed herself for not being prepared. Worse, the hour was late and her father would be expecting her for dinner shortly. How was she going to get back to her apartment without leading Batman to her secret identity?
She decided she would have to take a risk. She first drew Batman to a location far from her place. When she was sure he had caught up with her. She shot off for her apartment using a route that would be infested with traffic at this hour. On her bike she could easily maneuver through the congestion. Not knowing the source of Batman’s trace, she parked the bike in a hidden place near her apartment but not through the secret entrance. It would be secure there but not betray her. Batgirl then raced back to her apartment and began to remove her costume. Now she regretted wearing the one piece as precious minutes ticked away as she struggled to strip it off. Finally free of it, she was left standing in her changing room naked except for her mask and wig. Batgirl retrieved her trace-detecting device. When she discovered it on her cape she knew Batman would be not be far behind. Her first instinct was to smash it but she realized that if she did the last transmission would come directly from her apartment. She heard the Batmobile’s turbo wind down in front of her building.
She darted to the window to check out how he was going to proceed. Briefly glancing down, she saw him hoist up the Bat-rope to the top of her building. “Okay, plan B,” she thought. She caught herself in the mirror and noticed that her mask and wig were still on. “Don’t be that obvious, Babs,” she said to herself. She tossed them into the hidden doorway of her changing chamber and slid the door closed. She thought again about smashing the transistor but reasoned on her alternative course of action. “Okay, Batman, the next step is up to you,” as she stood naked waiting for him.
The transistor Batman applied to Batgirl was not his most sophisticated. Consequently, the beep led him to this building but he could not determine exact location. He could tell however that her movement had stopped. He decided to scale the building and enter through the first point of entry that made itself available. Reaching to his utility belt he pulled out a trusty Bat-a-rang secured to his lightweight but strong tether. Batman’s accuracy was about one hundred twenty feet, easily enough to ascend this four story building. With a quick tug to ensure its security he started his climb. He made his way up the first two floors with an eye to the third where he noticed a window cracked. Upon reaching the ledge of the third floor he stood to the side and carefully peered in. He caught a quick glance of a woman’s figure which appeared to be partially if not entirely uncostumed. He positioned himself to get a better look.
Batman moved around to the other side of the window and assumed a position to provide stealth but with a viewline to capture everything. He peered into the window. The woman inside had an incredible figure. He could easily make out her large, firm breasts with perfect pink nipples and well rounded hips that flowed into muscular legs. This woman appeared to have no shame with her body as she traipsed across the room with the balletic grace of a woman deciding what to wear and getting ready to go out. Batman took his crime fighting very seriously but this was a perk that he could not resist. He felt his cock stiffen against his tights. He could not take his eyes off her. With each movement, her bosoms moved in unison. Normally, his costume gave him a civil obedience that he did not have to obey as Bruce Wayne. However, this temptress was testing that crossover. Finally, his eyes moved off her body and to her head as she began to unwrap the towel off of her head. He did a double take as he recognized the face. “Oh my God,” he thought, “this isn’t Batgirl, it’s Barbara Gordon. I’m looking in the wrong apartment.” And then, on cue, the ledge gave partially away and Batman lost his balance and came crashing through the window.
“Batman!” Barbara screamed, “what are you doing here?” She quickly grabbed for the towel she just took off her head and wrapped it around her glistening body.
“I am sorry, Miss Gordon,” as he deliberately tried to look down at the floor, “but I was just ah, trying to, ah, work out on, ah…”
“I cannot believe that they sent you over.”
“M-me?” Batman stammered.
“Why yes. You’re responding to my call. One of my tenants in 4B called me complaining of somebody on the roof. I told him it was probably kids playing but just to make sure I would call the police and have them check it out. I hope they did not send you just because I am the Commissioner’s daughter. I mean you only deal with the major criminals not creepy trespassers, right?”
Fantastic. She was giving him the out he needed. “Er, yes, Miss Gordon, that’s right arch criminals are my specialty but I heard the call come in over the police radio and since I was in the neighborhood I took it upon myself to respond.”
Barbara adjusted her robe to give the illusion of being helpless and push her breasts up just a little bit more. It was timed just as Batman was taking his eyes off the pattern of her rug to speak.
“So I” –the sight of her adjustment made him blush at the embarrassment of his situation—“I better be going to check out the, ah, roof situation. Say hello to your father er, ah, maybe it’s best if you don’t, ah, tell your father we saw each other.” He could not believe how he was squirming. He decided it would be best just to turn around and leave.
“Batman,” he heard her call just as he was stepping out of the window, “you weren’t checking me out before you entered were you?” There was an air of suggestion in her voice.
His first thought was “I hope these kevlar shorts are hiding my hard-on.” He responded, “Of course, not Miss Gordon, I, ah, merely slipped as I was heading to your roof. It happens more often than most citizens think. I will send someone by immediately to fix this window. Good night.” He hoped she was not observant enough to realize that he was heading down the rope and not up to the roof. He rationalized to minimize the chance of damage and danger, just like a crime scene.
As soon as she was sure Batman was out of her apartment Barbara ran to the transmitter and took it apart. She manipulated the tracking mechanism so that it showed Batgirl on the move. If Batman wanted to follow her, let him, but he would be following a shadow. She plotted an intelligent course that led from her apartment to Gotham’s Central Park and eventually ended in the Great Lake where the signal died. That should give him something to think about.
“Alfred, I did the stupidest thing today,” Bruce Wayne confided to his butler, “I almost jeopardized my whole crime fighting career.”
“How was that, sir?” Alfred replied. After so many years of serving one person he had a way of acknowledging remarks with a question. It was a way of pretending to listen and pretending to care. Not that he did not. Bruce Wayne, afterall, had been extremely generous to him and with the stock options granted every year, Alfred had amassed a sizable fortune. However, the wealth did not inspire him. He had been surrounded by money his entire adult life and his father’s life before him. He knew it did not ensure happiness and, in fact, attracted loneliness. Through many of Bruce’s lonely rantings Alfred had learned to partially tune out.
“I was tracking Batgirl trying to find out her identity when all of the sudden I ran into Barbara Gordon, naked, in her apartment, and I never realized how well that young girl has blossomed, and that she is not a young girl anymore, and how distracted I was from fighting crime with this Batgirl thing, and me having to train her, can you believe that train her, and how perfect Barbara’s tits are, and a neatly trimmed beaver, too, and what if Batgirl’s carelessness puts me in a situation I cannot get out of, and why was the Commissioner so insistent on me helping her…”
This discourse threatened to ramble on for some time. “Well, sir,” Alfred interrupted, which of the two is the more pressing problem: discovering Batgirl or getting into Miss Gordon’s trousers?” Alfred amused himself when his language would slide cautiously over to the naughty side.
“Definitely Batgirl,” Bruce answered abruptly, “no, banging Barbara. I don’t know both.”
“Maybe they are one in the same problem, Mister Wayne,” Alfred offered wisely.
“What? Weren’t you listening to anything I said? I swear, Alfred, sometimes I think it is time to retire you.”
The next evening Batgirl arrived at the Commissioner’s office precisely at ten.
“Batgirl,” Gordon inquired, “what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to go out patrolling with Batman.”
“I thought so, too, Commissioner, although apparently finding me was not as easy as he thought.” She casually took a seat on the edge of his desk.
O’Hara, taking her attitude as brazen, tried to defend the Caped Crusader. “What have you done to trick him, you vixen? If Batman says he’ll find you, he will.”
“I am sure you are correct, Chief O’Hara, but tonight he will find me here.” Just then the red Hotline buzzed. Batgirl could not resist, “Commissioner, may I?” as she motioned to the phone.
“Go ahead,” he allowed almost dreamily. O’Hara glared at him.
Batgirl picked up the phone, “Yes, Batman, where are you? Should we be expecting you soon? I will be here waiting. Let’s hope no crimes happen until then. Bye.” Batgirl could barely contain her glee but knew enough not to ridicule the man in front of his two staunchest supporters. “He is on his way.”
Batman entered the Commissioner’s office offering no apologies. He spoke directly to Gordon and O’Hara. “Good evening, gentlemen. Are there any new breakthroughs I should know about?”
“Word on the street is that Catwoman is back, Batman, but we have no leads or clues as to who she is this time or what she is up to,” O’Hara reported. “I trust you will be providing us with more shortly.”
“Of course, Chief. Well, Batgirl,” finally acknowledging her, “are you ready?”
They agreed to travel together with Batgirl taking the seat formally occupied by Robin. Batman wanted to control the situation with her as much as possible plus, through conversation, possibly obtain a better bead on whom she might be. Batgirl agreed to the arrangement knowing that the more time they spent together, the more he would accept her as a true partner in crime fighting.
Batman decided to begin the night with a little hand to hand combat. Rather than testing her himself, he thought he would see her in action. He drove to a particularly seedy section of the city and stopped the car. “Okay, lesson one, battling the bad guys. Follow me”
He led her through a few alleys that finally open up into a concrete park. Trouble was about to burst in front of them. Two gangs were squared off, ready to rumble. Batgirl did not like the numbers.
“What’s your costume made out of?” he asked.
“Bulletproof kevlar like yours, why?” she asked back.
“Go break that up then,” and he motioned to the gangs.
“Just me?” she looked at Batman unassured. Was he trying to get rid of her by having her maimed on their first night?
“Don’t worry, I will back you up with more than you can imagine.”
“Okay, but I’m trusting you,” she said as if he cared.
Batman watched ready to jump in and assist. He knew she could fight well one-on-one or even two-on-one. Her record demonstrated that. But fighting a gang required strategic fighting and stamina. He had to know what she was made of.
Batgirl scaled the fence of the basketball court with impressive ease. He observed her call out to them and noticed the surprise of the two gangs as an unexpected combatant arrived. He adjusted his position as the gangs circled around her and momentarily blocked his view. Their posture was threatening but nothing happened yet. There were a few shouts back and forth and invitations to get it on. Batman saw Batgirl separate two guys with her arms. He surmised they were the leaders. One of the leaders pushed her into the other leader. Then the configuration of the crowd changed again and once more, he lost sight of her. Batman thought this was the time to enter but surprisingly the action did not begin. He tried for a higher position to see better and swoop down but then the incredible occurred. The two gangs moved apart and began to walk away. Some even exchanged the street equivalent of shaking hands. As the sea of bodies parted he saw Batgirl emerge and head back toward him.
“What was that all about?” he demanded, “I thought I was going to get to see you in action.”
“What do you mean, Batman, you did see me in action.” Why was he so odd sometimes?
“That wasn’t action,” he continued, “there were no punches, no kicks, and frankly no peril. That’s not what I sent you out for.”
“Listen, Batman, if the situation dictated it I was prepared to execute. However, you asked me to intervene in a situation where I had no chance of success. The numbers were overwhelmingly to my disadvantage; I counted the steps I took and calculated that, at your best, it would you take eight seconds to respond and in those eight seconds I could be dead. So, I reasoned the best way to battle bad guys is prevention. I talked to the leaders listened to the situation. I asked each for a non-violent alternative to their turf issue. Surprisingly, each offered the same solution. I believe they walked away happy.”
“But that was not the purpose of this lesson. Why didn’t you use a smoke bomb or starburst from your utility belt as you climbed over the fence to gain the upper hand?”
Batgirl restrained her frustration over not receiving recognition for a job well done. “Batman, I chose not to use any of my tools because up to that point no crime had been committed. I will not instigate a crime just to break it up.”
“Of course not, Batgirl, but surely you must have seen that they were about to commit a crime. You would have just been containing it.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Batman. When I arrived it became clear that they were there to air their differences but fighting was not necessarily their first option. The numbers were more for posturing.”
“Please, Batgirl, anyone could see that they were the type for violent behavior.”
“What do you mean, Batman?”
He appeared frustrated as well. Was she testing me? “Batgirl, tell me that there clothing and rap music and gold was not a dead give away for trouble?”
“Batman, are you saying that because they were black that I should assume they were about to commit a crime.”
“I didn’t say that race was the only determining factor but you must statistically consider it in criminal situations.”
“Don’t even go there, Batman. You are giving a couch potato editorial to a scene you observed but did not participate in. Let’s drop this and go on to lesson two.” Batgirl was disgusted.
Fortunately, the rest of the evening went very well. Batgirl and Batman alternated taking the lead in several criminal altercations. After each arrest they assessed what happened, what caused the situation, and how it could have been handled better. Batman was not patronizing when criticizing Batgirl rather offering constructive feedback. She, in turn felt she was given the opportunity to demonstrate her skills. Batman talked a lot about preparation and how crucial it was in dealing with arch criminals. He went through the list detailing their history and patterns. He outlined how they filled the void left when Commissioner Gordon went on his crusade against organized crime after his wife was kidnapped and murdered. He explained that the Commissioner did such a thorough job that a newer more nefarious mind cropped up and quickly overwhelmed the Gotham City police. Batgirl bit her lip hard to appear neutral in the wake of criticism against her father. Even though Batman had put several away, many returned either through breakouts or holes in the criminal justice system.
The night ended at dawn and they agreed to meet again the following night although Batman cautioned her that they would not be together every night. He wanted to introduce her to his level of crime fighting gradually. She agreed but knew she would impress him enough to accelerate through his training. On the way home removed another homing device he had attached to her bike.
The second night picked up where the previous night ended. They apprehended criminals and reviewed the circumstances. Batgirl liked working as a pair with Batman. At one point during an instruction she caught herself fantasizing about him entering her apartment again and having his way with her. Somehow as Barbara Gordon she found him exciting and dangerous. The mere thought of him eyeing her naked body again was enough to dampen her crotch. When he caught her with her attention wandering she snapped back into the officious Batgirl and re-focused her alertness on his message.
Somewhere in the middle of their fifth night, Batman suggested they head out of town to a special training facility he had. It was a sound idea to Batgirl and she thought it would give her greater insight into his methods. Once there, Batman worked her hard with running, gymnastics, and climbing. After a couple hours Batgirl had worked up a healthy sweat and felt the acid in her muscles burning. Batman noticed her fatigue and asked:
“Are you okay to continue.”
Not wanting to appear weak Batgirl replied with out hesitation, “Of course, what’s next?”
“More hand to hand combat,” and without pausing Batman began to attack Batgirl with a combination of punches and kicks.
With her sapped energy and tired reflexes to defend herself, Batgirl block the shots but did not retaliate. “What are you doing, Batman?” she managed to blurt out.
“I’m fighting you, of course,” as he released another barrage of moves designed to attack aggressively. “When you are most tired that is when you must be most prepared for combat. Trust me, that is how the arch criminals think.” At his last word he landed with a spinning kick that sent Batgirl flying.
She fought back refusing to be intimidated and not sure how far he planned on taking this exercise. Batgirl was well schooled in the martial arts and seemed to score more points the more she felt Batman was about to overtake her. After a particularly sharp blow to Batman’s ribs that jarred him, he changed gears and increased the tempo of his assault. Soon all Batgirl could do was try to block as many blows as possible and avoid being knocked out. Batman was very adept at switching and combining martial art disciplines and, before she could prevent it, he was behind her with one arm locking both of hers behind her back. With hand of his free arm he reached in front of her face and grabbed the bottom of her mask.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a panic.
“Isn’t it obvious Batgirl? I’m about to unmask you.”
“But…why?” she labored between breaths, “aren’t we working together?”
“First of all, if I were a criminal I might not hesitate to reveal your identity and use it for my evil advantage, and your unprepared fatigue just gave me the opportunity. Second, while it is true we are paired together for now, I prefer to know with whom I am working,” and with those words he lifted her mask a bit higher.
Part of Batgirl—the Barbara Gordon part—wanted him to rip off her mask, her costume, and make passionate love to her. It would be her adolescent dream coming true. However, the Batgirl in her had more fight. “Wait right there, Batman. Just who in the hell do you think you are? What is your perverse obsession with my secret identity? Does it kill you not to know everything? I have put up with your damn silly transmitters every night for the past week without saying a word. I have met every contest you have put before me so far and shown I can contribute to the betterment of Gotham City. Now you want to try and expose me? For whose benefit, Batman?
“If you can figure out my identity with cunning and intelligence, fine, I accept the challenge. However, if you expose me now or later solely through your superior strength than you are no better than the preying villains that you have sworn to apprehend. Respect me, Batman and let me go.”
Batman’s was torn. With his body pressed hard against hers he debated what to do. What she said was true. He hadn’t really tricked her just overwhelmed her. However, he also felt that this may be his best chance to find out who she is. He still gripped tightly onto her mask and cowl. He wasn’t used to hesitating and fighting doubts about his behavior.
“Listen, Batman, I’ll go you one better,” Batgirl started up again, “take off your mask and I will gladly take off mine. You won’t have to take advantage of me to achieve your aim.”
She had him in a stand-off. He knew he wouldn’t—he couldn’t—reveal himself to her. At least not now. He longed for someone other than Alfred and Robin share his duplicity but he was not prepared to enter that type of relationship yet. He loosened his grip slowly and then let go completely.
Batgirl spun around. “So what’s it going to be Batman? Masks off?” She was still breathing hard but kept her eyes up and locked into his.
He did not immediately answer. “Go,” he finally replied, “get on your bike and go. Tutoring is over for the night.”
Batgirl left, shaking inside and furious at him, but with the added knowledge that beneath his costume, he was a troubled man.
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