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Batgirl's Uptown Affairs, Part 2	By : AdultBat Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 7403 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of the characters in this story. I have not or will not receive any money for this story. It is for adults only and is not intended for redistribution or renumeration.

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Batgirl felt she had planned and prepared adequately. She was waiting for the afternoon to arrive when it would be her time to capture the Bookworm. With time to kill she decided to go uptown, beyond the wealthy enclaves, to see Shaft. She wasn’t sure how she should announce herself (Batgirl wasn’t used to buzzing someone’s apartment) so she decided to take the fun and daring route by scaling his building up to his balcony. Trying to remember where his apartment was in relation to the building confused her for a bit but then she recalled her reference points and was soon climbing over the rail to his balcony.

Peering through his glass door she saw him walking around his apartment completely naked. “Sometimes I love my timing,” Batgirl decided. She slid open the door and demurely called out, “Knock, knock.”

“Batgirl,” Shaft was startled, “what are you doing here?”

“I thought I would just stop by to see if my favorite protector of the streets was okay and from what I can see,” as she looked down at his dormant python, “things look all right to me.” She was about to reach down and grab his love baton when she heard his bathroom door open. A tall and striking black woman stepped out pinning on her nurse’s hat to complete her uniform. “Sugar, can you give me a lift to – .” She looked up and saw Batgirl standing next to her naked paramour. “What’s she doing here?”

Shaft remained silent but produced a shrug which indicated ‘hey, you know how it is baby, I gave you no commitments.’

Batgirl tried to fill the silence by saying, “I just came here to ask for Mr. Shaft’s assistance in a criminal matter I am working on.” It sounded as false as it was delivered.

The nurse just gave an exasperated sigh and glowered at Batgirl as if saying, ‘if I ever catch you with my man again, superhero or not, you and me are going to have a problem.’ The she left.

“Shaft, I am so sorry. It never even occurred to me, although I guess it should have, but I just wanted to talk to someone, well to you really, and I wanted to show you that I could be unconventional by scaling your building and…and…I’m rambling.”

“Don’t sweat it, Batgirl. Coffey’s all talk but she’ll be cool. So what did you want to talk about?”

Batgirl didn’t want to admit that all she really wanted to do was fuck him again so she started some discussion then told him about her plans to capture the Bookworm.

“It sounds like you have your superhero agenda all worked out. Good luck, Batgirl.”

Picking up on the ‘superhero’ inclusion Batgirl asked him, “have you ever considered becoming a superhero yourself? I mean after all you have the skills and the respect on the streets.”

“I don’t think I have the desire to be a superhero and besides, I don’t think the City is ready for a superhero of my shade.”

“No, Shaft, I disagree. I think a black superhero is what the City needs. Especially here, uptown, where the blight is so tangible. I think the kids could use a superhero to be a role model and something to which they can aspire.”

Shaft responded with a bit of annoyance in his voice, “The kids on these streets don’t need another impossible goal like becoming a superhero or a NBA star to survive in this neighborhood. The superheroes these kids need to recognize are Black doctors and lawyers or the Black garbage man who marries his woman and busts his butt everyday in order to put food on the table and see his kids grow up. You live in a fantasy world. Chasing the Bookworm because he stole an old book written by some White man. Where is the law’s response when something valuable to the Black community is stolen?”

“Like what?” Batgirl did not expect to be attacked for her suggestion.

“How about our dignity for starters? You’ve been around, tell me the schools in the Black neighborhoods are as nice as the White kids’ schools. The money is apportioned out equally at the beginning of every year. How come some schools have new science labs and others have history books ending when Kennedy was still President. What happened to that money? Somebody takes it every year but no one says nothing.”

“Shaft I don’t have an answer for you but don’t be such a hypocrite. You have the intelligence to be that doctor or lawyer. But, you don’t have the courage to be that garbage man. You choose a profession that kids look at as dangerous and exciting and you’ve probably slept around with more women than ten men combined. Do you ever wonder if one of the kids you’re busting is your own son that you never claimed or even knew about? Where was his or their role model when they needed it? That role model living large in his own fantasy life wasting his real chance to change the world.”

Both just stood there in silent judgment of each other. Finally, Batgirl said, “I have got to go.”

“Listen,” Shaft began but paused for several moments. He looked like he wanted to say something meaningful but all that came out was, “be careful tonight and if necessary be enforcement and justice - don’t take any prisoners.”

            Batgirl took the elevator down and was headed for her customized ninja motorcycle when the PDA in her utility belt signaled an incoming message. Forwarded by the Batcave it was a message from the Commissioner asking her to stop by Lawrence Pierce’s residence. Apparently, he wished for Batgirl to protect some of his rare volumes as well. “I didn’t mean for this setup to make me a substitute for Brink’s,” thought Batgirl, “but this will give me a chance to finally see his library.”

            Batgirl did not need to consult her GPS device on her bike to know how to navigate herself to his townhouse. Swerving through the traffic she reflected on how much the broad swath of uptown differed between Shaft’s neighborhood and Lawrence’s. “It’s amazing it’s all the same city,” she remarked, “I’m not sure if that is part of its eternal attraction or curse.”

            She was greeted at the door by his ubiquitous butler. When she saw him her first reaction was embarrassment over her behavior a few nights earlier. She wondered if he watched as she frigged herself on his boss. She quickly realized that dressed as Batgirl he had no idea that she was Barbara Gordon but it was still difficult at times to separate her different public lives. Unemotionally, he requested she wait in the parlor before escorting her to the library.

            Being at this house in a more formal situation gave her a different perspective on things like his choice of furnishings and design. Granted it was all still exquisite but it seemed to lack the warmth she associated with it before. The path to the library seemed to snake though many rooms of the house. Many of the rooms she had seen before but some were new. Entering the library brought on the emotional response of being overwhelmed by its dimly lit enormity but also the lucid realization that this space was, in fact, the next door house. Lawrence obviously owned both but had cleared out all the inner structure of the second house to make room for his collection.

            “Batgirl, come in,” she heard Lawrence’s voice from behind some stacks, “I am so glad you could come on such short notice.”

            “No problem, Mr. Pierce,” Batgirl responded as she peaked around the bookcases trying to match his voice with his location, “which are the books you wanted me to protect from the Bookworm?”

            “Here they are, my darling,” as he emerged from a shadow. In his hands he was holding two books but his attire is what first seized her attention. He was wearing a peculiar green outfit that almost looked plastic. The outfit included a fedora that had a reading lamp built into it and plastic frames supporting coke bottle lenses that obscured his eyes. Normally, he was not a very stylish dresser but this get up was just bizarre. Cautiously taking the books from his hands she looked down to read the titles. She was astonished.

            “Mr. Pierce, the Memoirs of the Agricultural Society of the Seine and the 1689 edition of The English Pilot? These books were part of Thomas Jefferson’s collection. How can you own these? They were destroyed in the fire at the Library of Congress in 1851.”

            “My, my Batgirl, I am impressed. Not many librarians are as well informed as you, certainly not my pseudo librarian girlfriend.”

            Batgirl was offended but quick to compose herself. Her reaction almost compromised her identity. Did he just insult her though? “Mr. Pierce, I must ask you again, where did you obtain these books?”

            “They were left to me by my father who received them from his father and so on. I guess we have a bit of a family tradition of checking out books that we desperately want. That fire you referenced was merely a ruse to divert attention from my great-great grandfather’s pilfering.”

            The blatant admission of guilt and the hauteur of his outfit now confirmed to Batgirl what her personal involvement in his life failed to uncover. When she was passed out in his out the other night he must have taken her all access pass to gain entry to the library and make himself a library card. “Mr. Pierce, you are the Bookworm.”

            “Oh yes, you are quite right,” he admitted with pride. Batgirl then felt a sharp thud glance off her head a land mostly on her shoulder. Behind her back the butler tried to knock her out with the Old English dictionary. It looked like the first part of the alphabet. She stepped back to prepare for a fight but neither was moving toward her. In fact, they both looked like they wanted to run away scared. Finally, Bookworm called out shrilly, “Pressman, Typesetter, Printers’ Devil come here immediately!” From the stacks emerged three henchmen of the usual overgrown proportions; only this trio all wore glasses.

            Batgirl wanted to end this quickly so she wasted no time in being the aggressor. With one right cross and another sweeping kick she sent Typesetter and Pressman to their butts in bombastic fashion. Printers’ Devil was either a better fighter or more prepared because he avoided her first two strikes and caught Batgirl with his own glancing shot. Knocked off balance but not hurt Batgirl rushed the thug in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. Underestimating his mass her body was absorbed by his and he clamped his arms around her. Squirming and twisting Batgirl broke free just as the other two made it to their feet. Pressman missed wildly with a roundhouse punch and stumbled past her into the stacks. Batgirl grabbed a book off the shelf and prepared to clogbber him with it but when she brought it up over her head she noticed by the title and binding the value of the edition and hesitated destroying it on a criminal hard head. The momentary waver cost her as Typesetter and Devils’ Pressman both connected with blows to the back of her head and her temple.

            Wobbled, Batgirl tried to run away and hide within the dark crevices of the bookcases to regain her composure. Not showing any of the respect she showed for bibliography, they decided to end Batgirl’s concealment by pushing the first stack forward and making them collapse like dominoes until the last one was buttressed by the rear wall. Feeling the rhythm of the chain reaction closing in on her Batgirl tried to use her all of her super strength to hold up her shelf and stop the implosion. However, the weight was too great and Batgirl felt her feet slip out from under her as the shelves came crushing down on top of her.

            Lying on the floor face down Batgirl realized to her relief that she was not squashed but definitely trapped. The weight would not allow her to breathe for long. With limited movement available she reached into her utility belt and produced a mini Bat-jack which she place next to her hip and started the hydraulic pumping to create first some breathing space and then enough room to start inching toward faint light. It was a struggle but when she neared the edge she was able to extend her arms and pull her torso out. She let out a sigh of relief and was energized by the prospect of being completely out. Unfortunately, sitting on a footstool waiting for her patiently was the Bookworm with several old books in his hands. Holding the books together he brought them to her face and blew of the dust covering the top edition directly into her mask. She immediately began to feel woozy.

            “Batgirl, I am going to give you the chance to make literary history. The powder you just inhaled has highly hypnotic qualities. Through the power of scholarly suggestion I am going to transport you into the book of your choice. All you have to do is lift yourself up and choose from my vast episodic shelves.”

            In her mind, so clouded, she tried to think of a title where a female character would be strong so that she might have an aid or advantage in this cruel game. As she was cataloging her knowledge of the Greek, Roman, and Norse goddesses Batgirl struggled to speak, “You’ll, you’ll, you’ll never control me, Bookworm.” Collapsing, her hand absently grabbed one of the books out of his hands and continued clutching it as it fell heavily to the floor.

            “Oh I love this,” Bookworm squealed girlishly, “instead of Madame Bovary, Scarlett O’Hara, or even a biblical heroine she has chosen most interestingly. Jay, glancing over to his butler, “I think you are going to like her choice even more than me. Look what she has selected.” In her hand she held the Kama Sutra.
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Batgirl's Uptown Affairs, Part 2