The Land of Make Believe

BY : Nancy Brown
Category: DC Verse Cartoons > The New Adventures of Batman
Dragon prints: 6847
Disclaimer: I do not own The New Adventures of Batman. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

The Land of Make Believe
by Nancy Brown (
Copyright 2005

Disclaimer: Not mine. DC and Warner Brothers would be very mad at me if they knew about this.

Feedback: Please?

Thanks go to Xffan_2000 for the beta.

Barbara doesn't know who he's pretending she is when they have sex, and she tries not to care. He never calls her by another name, never acts surprised to find her panting beneath him when their coupling has ceased, but she understands just the same.

Bruce has been around Gotham more lately: prowling by her side in the shadows, tossing out his lines next to hers. He has been here so little these past few years, his presence is a cool shock each time he appears out of the darkness. In her dreams, the silly little girl dreams she still allows herself from time to time, she pretends he has come back for her, but Barbara isn't a fool. He came back for Tim, because he wasn't here for Tim when the need came and now he is simply making up for lost time, lost everything.

Tim isn't allowed to go out with them anymore, has not been allowed for months. She can see the compulsion writhing beneath his skin every time she dons her mask, but it is long past the time for complaints. This is the arrangement. Barbara goes out to the streets with Bruce and Tim doesn't. She wins. In a way.

Bruce barely speaks to the rest of the League now. She was in the Cave when he sent out the message:

"Robin missing. Please send assistance." The sad-eyed Martian on the other end told him the League was overextended but would send someone to Gotham when they could spare a hand. Bruce told him not to bother and cut the transmission, and no one came at all.

Barbara knows how much pride it cost him to ask. She doesn't know how much it cost him to be told "No."

And Tim is home now and Tim is safe and Tim is not quite sane but then who among them is?

She knows about Wonder Woman. Barbara followed the few news reports that came out, read the tabloids. Like pressing her tongue into a hole that used to hold a tooth, she had to see for herself. But it was over now, between them, and she doesn't know why and she isn't asking.

She's almost sure Bruce thinks about his princess when he's making love to Barbara. (A small, romantic part of her still calls what they do "making love," although the cynical part strangles that voice a little more every night and keeps an eye on how many condoms are left in his nightstand.) There's a certain half-gasp he makes when he thrusts inside her, an extra hitch of hip and squeeze of muscled hand on her arm that tells her he's more used to metahuman strength from his bedmates in recent days. There is veneration in the burn of his lips on her breasts and her stomach and between her thighs that denotes a worship he does not give to Barbara herself.

He always closes his eyes. Always.

His head is between her legs tonight — this morning — and he is lapping at her with his eyes squeezed tightly shut. She briefly has a mental flash of a cat licking cream from a saucer and she wishes she didn't.

Some nights when they come in from patrol almost broken from what they have seen on the dark streets, he takes her to his bed and he strokes every inch of her with the tips of his well- manicured nails, following their delicate trail by tiny nips of teeth. He does not demand she return the favor but she knows too well how much he likes the reciprocal caress of her nails along the length of his hardened cock, and behind his eyelids she suspects he's thinking of cats while she envelops him in her mouth.

Now his tongue is flicking her, hard, and his hands have slid in from holding her thighs wide. One finger dips inside her to find moisture, withdraws and gently probes her anus as another finger returns to the place she wants it, wants him. Both fingers slide in and out in time to the motions of his tongue on her clit, and Barbara is aching to come.

She doesn't know who else he pretends she is when she lets him do these things to her. Maybe in his head, she's a violet-eyed reporter. Maybe she's a different daddy's girl, or two if the rumors about him and the Beaumont woman were true. The nights he does not watch her ride him until she screams, his mind's eye might grant her wings, or else long golden hair flowing behind her.

The single night she wore the stockings was the one time he shouted when he came. Barbara bought a white baby tee and blue miniskirt last month but she keeps the outfit at her apartment and has yet to show him.

She tells herself she doesn't care, that it doesn't matter. Batman has been her idol for years and he has chosen her. He might be using her, but in a way she's using him too and fair is fair.

Bruce withdraws his fingers, stops his licking with a final rough kiss, and she is panting and tired. A quick glance to the bedside clock tells her it is almost five a.m., and she wants to sleep, but even more than that, she desperately wants to come. Barbara doesn't object as Bruce slides his way up her body, kissing and tasting as he does, and she doesn't object as he rolls her over onto her stomach.

She's curious, at times, about who he's pretending she is, but on nights like this, she understands she doesn't want to know. He has slicked his cock with her juices and his own pre-ejaculate, and it only burns a little as he slides himself, glacially slow, into her ass.

She muffles her moans in the pillow, wanting to yell from the pain, from the pleasure, from the power he has over her at this moment and the power she has over him as he shoves himself into her. He is silent when he fucks her except when he takes her this way. As he grinds deeper, Bruce grunts softly; anyone not knowing him as she does might not even notice.

She slips two needy fingers into her mouth and then pushes them between her crotch and the sheets. She's long accustomed to finding her own pleasure and she rubs her fingers against her clit as Bruce thrusts faster inside her. She knows by his rhythm that he's going to come soon, and she wants to get off when he does, wants to feel it with him. It's like sharing, almost.

And the other reason she never asks him is that she doesn't want him asking her. She doesn't want to have to tell him that she pretends he's still wearing the cowl. Sometimes he does wear it, taking her against the car or a dark alley wall, and then she comes hard and fast and her costume reeks of sex for days afterwards. She, too, doesn't want him to know that when his eyes are closed, sometimes so are hers and there's a dark-eyed young man in his place and Barbara is a lifetime younger and less world-weary.

When he takes her like this, she isn't sure the same young man is not behind Bruce's eyes too.

He gasps as he shudders and comes. Barbara rubs her clit hard and she bites her lip and a few seconds later she follows, jerking beneath him. It's not the best orgasm she's had, but she is trembling and content as the quakes fade.

They are both tired beyond words. Bruce pulls out of her gently and he bites her lip and kisses her before staggering off to the master bath. Barbara moves to the side of the bed she has claimed as her own since they started this mess, and curls around a pillow. She gets that she's not the one he's thinking of when they have sex, but she's the one in bed with him and that has to be what matters.

Alfred knows, has to know. Tim probably knows. Dick doesn't, not yet, but Tim is going to tell him soon. Tim won't be able to tell him that Dick's shade is in the bed with them and that's for the best.

Bruce has a fine mattress; it barely shifts when he returns to bed. Barbara knows she should get up and use the facilities, but she's tired and she's sore, and Bruce's arms are strong. She lets herself fall into them, fall into him, and as he draws her close for a few hours of sleep, she closes her eyes and pretends she's someone else too, someone the Batman could love. It's an easier pretense than most and it chases her into her dreams.

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