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The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes of sexual
activity. It includes characters that are copyrighted by DC Comics. This
story is intended for the non-commercial enjoyment of fans and should be
considered a parody. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit
will be made from the distribution of this story.



Batman: Love Potion #9 (MF,mc,drugs)
by Ann Douglas ([email protected])

Barbara Gordon, newly appointed Head Librarian for the Gotham City Central
Library, looked into her dressing mirror and sighed. Tonight was the
retirement dinner honoring her predecessor, Angela Brown, for thirty years
of service. During which, her own appointment would be made official. At
first glance, it should've been an event that she could look forward to
with some enthusiasm. Unfortunately, one aspect of the evening had cast a
pall over the otherwise happy event.

It was only yesterday that she learned that her escort for the dinner was
going to be Billionaire Bruce Wayne. There had to be, she told herself, at
least a thousand women in this city that would've given almost anything to
trade places with her tonight and given the chance, the short haired redhead
would've gladly done so. Unfortunately, there was no way she could do it.

It was no secret that one of the reasons she'd gotten the coveted position
was due to Wayne's position on the Library's Board of Directors. In this
city, few people said no to Bruce Wayne. If it had been up to the other
Directors, the appointment would've gone to some political hack, or at least
someone with more experience. Wayne, however, was a friend of James Gordon,
Gotham's Police Commissioner, and while he would never make the request
himself, Bruce had been more than happy to intercede on behalf of his old
friend's daughter without being asked. The bottom line was, Barbara reminded
herself, that regardless how she got the promotion, she was more than
qualified for it. Having graduated college two years ago with a Masters in
Library Science, the twenty-two year old was the most qualified person on
staff at any branch.

Barbara's main objection to being Wayne's escort was the worry of what Wayne
might be looking for in return for his support. While it was possible that he
might actually have done it solely as a favor for her father, Barbara was too
much of a realist to take that at just face value. Too often men of Wayne's
reputation expected a quid pro quo. While hardly a virgin, she nevertheless
had no desire to become just another notch on the Playboy's bedpost.

In the years since she'd first met Bruce Wayne, the man had been somewhat of
a contradiction to her. His companies employed thousands of people, jobs that
carried some of the best benefit packages around. Additionally, the Wayne
Foundation, named in honor of his parents, was one of the country's largest
charitable organizations. Yet, Wayne himself seemed to be totally
disinterested in any serious matter. You'd be more likely to find his name on
the society pages than in the business section, usually in connection with
some escapade with a model or actress. Sometimes more than one of them.

There had even been rumors over the years that Wayne led some kind of double
life. That he might even be gay. More than a few eyebrows had been raised
when he'd taken in a teenage boy as his ward a few years back. Political
connections surely had something to do with letting a single man, who lived
in a country mansion with only his butler for company, take in a minor.
Still, there was definitely another side to the man, one that few people ever
saw. One that she had only encountered in her other identity as Batgirl.

Five months ago, on the night Batgirl was born, Barbara had been on her way
to the Policeman's Masquerade Ball. As a surprise for her father, she had
made a 'Batgirl' costume, never intending it to be anything other than a
'joke'. Driving along a back road to where the Ball was being held, she'd
come across a kidnap attempt on the billionaire. Not even thinking of her
own safety, she'd rushed to his defense.

Years of training in various martial arts, as well as letters in more than a
few college sports had left Barbara with a body as finely developed as her
mind. She more than held her own against two of the hoods who'd tried to
kidnap Wayne, then was surprised to discover that there was more to the man
than the fluff people expected.

Wayne himself dispatched the remainder of his attackers, showing more steel
than straw beneath his tuxedo. Afterwards, however, he insisted it had been
just luck that had allowed him to defeat his attackers. For a while after
that, Barbara had wondered if she, and a lot of other people, had misjudged
Bruce Wayne. But then, having never noticed any aspect of the Wayne she'd
seen that night re-emerge, she finally decided her original assumptions about
him had been right after all.

Putting the history of Bruce Wayne to the back of her mind, Barbara Gordon
turned her attention back to the here and now. She'd go to the dinner and
despite her discomfort, have a good time. But if Mister Bruce Wayne had
any thought that she was an easy lay, well he was going to be sorely
disappointed.

* * *

A few miles outside of Gotham at Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne grimaced as he
looked at himself in the mirror wearing a new tuxedo. It didn't matter that
every suit he owned was custom made to his exact measurements, he always felt
uncomfortable in any of them. Give him his skin tight batsuit any night and
he'd gladly trade the finest hotel ballroom for some dirty back alley.

Still, for Batman to function, Bruce Wayne needed a cover identity. One that
no one would ever connect with the Caped Crusader. And that involved being
seen as a man about town. It wasn't so much the function that he had to
attend this evening that bothered him. The Gotham Library had been a great
personal interest of both his father and later himself. It wasn't even the
fact that he'd used some of his considerable political pull to get Jim
Gordon's daughter the recently opened head librarian position. She was more
than qualified, despite her age; otherwise no amount of friendship would've
swayed him. No, it was the fact that he'd been roped into going to the
retirement dinner for the outgoing librarian as Barbara's escort.

It was true of course that Barbara was both young and reasonably attractive.
Her early graduation from college also attested to a remarkable intelligence.
But along the way she had developed a reputation as a ice princess, the kind
of woman more at home with books than the real world. Okay for some men, but
not for him. Nevertheless, the two of them would be on the gossip sheets by
morning, even if he were the height of propriety. At least in the case of
some of those Hollywood bimbos or Society types that he linked Bruce Wayne
with, he wound up bedding some of them for the night. He was, after all, a
man underneath either tuxedo or cape and cowl, with a man's needs and
desires.

Some might say he used women, but just as many might say they used him. The
city was full of women who'd rather say they'd spent a night with Bruce Wayne
and were then tossed aside, than count themselves among those who never got
the chance. Besides, even being one of the rejected did wonders for one's
career.

"Excuse me, Master Bruce," said Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce's butler, chauffeur
and all around aide de camp, "but if we are to pick up Miss Gordon on the way
to the dinner, we need to be going."

"Very well, Alfred," Bruce said with resignation, but not before glancing out
of the large French windows in hope of seeing the Bat-Signal rising from the
roof of Police Headquarters. "I guess I'm not going to be able to get around
this one."

"There are times when one must make sacrifices," Alfred replied, hiding the
smile that said he hardly considered spending the night with as lovely a
young woman as Barbara Gordon a sacrifice.

"Where're the Joker or Riddler when you need them?" Bruce mused as he glanced
one last time out the window.

* * *

Under Alfred's skillful driving, they arrived at Barbara Gordon's apartment
right on schedule. Bruce went up to get her and was the perfect gentleman as
he complimented her on the decor.

"Thank you, Bruce," Barbara said as she picked up her pocketbook and wrap.
"I guess we'd better get going."

"I'm sure they won't start without us," he assured her.

"Oh I'm sure they won't start without you at least," Barbara shot back, not
wanting to give him an inch.

"Well Alfred's waiting," Bruce calmly replied, thinking that he was right the
first time when he said this was going to be a long, long night.

* * *

"So tell me Bruce," Victor Griffith asked from the other side of the table
after dinner, when all the testimonials were done. "What do you make of this
Batgirl the newspapers keep writing about?"

Barbara, who had been ignoring Bruce for most of the evening turned in his
direction when she heard the question. The answer, she thought, should be
very interesting.

"I only know what I read in the papers, Victor," Bruce said as he wished the
subject hadn't come up.

"But didn't this mystery woman actually save you from a kidnapping a few
months ago?" the head of Griffith Industries asked.

"That's right," Juliet Jakes said from Bruce's other side. "I remember
reading about it in the Gazette."

"A frightful experience," the dark haired billionaire said, hoping to change
the subject. "one that I'm sure you'll understand that I'd rather forget."

A mixed chorus of murmurs said that they did, and the table conversation
turned to the stock market and everyone's favorite topic - money. Everyone's
favorite except Bruce and Barbara's. Her opinion of him had dropped even
lower, and his thoughts were far from the Dow Jones Average.

From the night she'd first appeared, Batgirl had been a sensitive subject
with him. He'd never even mentioned it to his closest confidants, but ever
since that night, he'd had sexual dreams about the female crimefighter. For
a man who could have just about any woman he wanted, in or out of costume,
she occupied a considerable amount of his interest. One he hadn't felt in
anyone since the first time he'd encountered Selina Kyle, the Catwoman.

It seemed that at least one other person at the table preferred the prior
topic of conversation as Sylvia Hawkins continued on the subject of Batgirl.

"I heard," she said, "that Batgirl is actually Batman's girlfriend."

Both Bruce and Barbara had to try hard not to react to that comment. As
graphic as some of the fantasies Bruce had about Batgirl were, they were
nothing compared to the sexual attraction that Barbara felt for Batman. An
attraction that went back to her teenage years when she'd spy on meetings
between the Darknight and her Police Commissioner father. Many were the
nights she'd played with herself, the idea of taking Batman as a lover
filling her thoughts. Thoughts that more than bordered on the pornographic.

"Speaking of Batman..." another guest interrupted as he directed everyone's
attention to one of the large windows that lined the south wall.

There, reflecting off a low flying cloud, was the famous Bat-Signal. More a
moral booster for the people of the city than anything else, it had long been
surpassed by much more modern technology. Bruce's cell phone went off at that
moment and an innocuous automated message told him he was needed by Gotham's
Finest.

"I'm afraid I have an emergency at Wayne Enterprises, Barbara," Bruce said
apologetically. "There's no need for you to leave of course. Alfred will stay
around and drive you home when you're done here."

"Actually I think I'm getting a headache," Barbara replied, "and if it's all
the same to you, I'll just get a cab home."

Bruce was willing to go along with anything at that moment. He was relieved
that she hadn't complained, not imagining that she wanted to get out of there
and respond to the signal as much as he did.

* * *

Exiting the Library's large exhibition hall where the dinner was being held,
Bruce started to head for the main stairwell then paused. In a pinch, he
could change clothes in the back seat of the limousine, but why use such
cramped quarters when more spacious and just as private accommodations were
available.

Heading up two levels on the side stairs, he entered the antiquities storage
room on the top floor. Only a few people had the access code to open the
security door, himself being one of them since he sat on the Board of
Directors. It seemed tailor made for the task.

The small room was dark, the only light spilling through the skylight and
window from a cloud obscured moon. To a creature of the night like Batman,
it was hardly an inconvenience. He moved over to a spot near the large bay
window, and there quickly shed his outer garments. The core of his skin-tight
batsuit fit easily under his tuxedo, and his mask, cape and other accessories
were carried in a small bag he was almost never without. It only took a
minute to complete the transformation and all that was left to don was his
cape and cowl.

The totally unexpected then happened. The door he had locked only a few
minutes before opened and another figure stepped in. The unmasked Batman
tried to blend into the shadows, but the heavens conspired against him as
the moon chose that moment to reappear, flooding the room with light.

"Bruce?" a startled feminine voice cried out when she spotted him standing
there.

"Barbara?" he automatically identified the voice.

"Oh my God!" Barbara Gordon cried out as she realized what her date was
wearing. "Bruce, I can't believe it, you're Batman?"

"Barbara, I don't have the time to explain," Bruce said, knowing that there
was no story he could fabricate that could explain away what she saw. "I'm
just going to have to trust that you know how important it is that you don't
tell anyone, and deal with this later."

"No, you don't have the time, do you?" she said, looking out the window where
the bat-signal could still be seen. "Then again, neither do I?"

To Bruce's amazement, his reluctant date abruptly slipped out of her dress
and, clad in only her bra and panties, pulled a large gym bag from one of
the bottom storage shelves. A bag with a combination lock that she opened in
seconds. The black and gray uniform that she pulled out of the bag resembled
his own and she donned it with an ease that matched his. Gone was the quiet
librarian, and in her place stood Gotham's newest defender - Batgirl.

"Shall we go?" Batgirl said as she stood silhouetted in the moonlight.

"I guess I don't exactly have a choice, do I?" Batman replied, somewhat
stunned by the unexpected revelation.

"Not really," Batgirl grinned.

One after the other they exited the window, to rappel down silken bat-lines
to the street where Batgirl was astonished to find the Batmobile waiting. One
of several actually, it had been remotely driven from a hidden midtown garage
to the library by Alfred using controls in the limousine.

"I guess you have to drive too," Batgirl grinned again as she moved around to
the passenger side.

"Well it is my car," Batman smiled.

The Darknight Damsel returned the smile as she hopped over the door and into
what was normally Robin's seat. By the time she strapped herself in, the
Caped Crusader was already on the Batphone speaking to her father.

"It's the Gotham Diamond Exchange," Batman said as he put down the receiver
and pulled out onto the city streets. "The special alarm around the Taylor
Collection was tripped five minutes ago. When the patrol car in the area
tried to investigate, some sort of electrified field stopped them. For now,
they have the building sealed off."

"And here I thought this night was going to be oh so boring," Batgirl grinned
as the Batmobile raced down the boulevard, covering the distance between the
Library and the Exchange in under three minutes.

* * *

Gotham's Finest had established a block wide perimeter around the Exchange
that quickly parted to let the Batmobile pass. The high-powered car came to
a stop at the main entrance and the ranking officers were surprised to see
Batgirl emerged from inside. If the Caped Crusader took note of their
surprise, he declined to offer any explanation. Instead he asked for a quick
update of the situation from the on-scene commander.

"We've been able to determine that the electrical field only extends up to
the first two floors," Chief O'Hara said as he tried to ignore Batgirl's
presence as she looked over his shoulder at the blueprint spread open over
the hood of his car. Robin, he thought, was at least mindful of his junior
status enough to wait a few steps back for Batman to decide on a course of
action.

"Then we should be able to enter the building through the third floor
windows," Batgirl offered as she looked up from the diagram and turned her
head to the higher building only a small alley's distance away from that
goal. "I don't see any problem getting to those ledges."

"Except that whoever's inside has to know that's the only way in and will be
expecting us," Batman added, not looking up from the blueprint. He's already
taken in the buildings around them when they'd arrived and didn't need a
second look.

"Expecting you maybe," Batgirl countered, "but not both of us. I can easily
come in from the other side of the building."

Batman nodded his head in agreement. His Robinless status had been public
knowledge with the front page story this morning that showed the Boy Wonder
in California with the Teen Titans. With a course of action decided, the two
Gotham Guardians turned and headed for the building Batgirl had indicated.

It only took Batman a minute to reach his objective, and to her credit,
Batgirl was less than another minute behind him. A small chirp of his
communicator told him she was ready and, tossing a set of small flash-bang
grenades in ahead of him, the Darknight crashed through the closest window.

The sound of crashing glass was instantly drowned out by that of gunfire.
It had indeed been a trap but the split second's hesitation caused by the
flash-bangs was all Batman needed. The deadly bullets crashed against an
empty wall. The spot where his would be executioners thought he would be,
not where he actually was.

Well trained ears identified the sounds to his left as those of a Colt 45
automatic and a .38 caliber revolver, as well as the location of the men who
had fired them. They would be the hired guns of course, whoever was behind
this robbery would be too smart to be in the line of fire.

Before they could retarget their prey, Batman was on the closest of them. A
solid right cross found a glass jaw and he dropped to the floor like a sack
of potatoes. Before the thug hit the ground, Batman had somersaulted across
the room, delivering a double kick to the midsection of gunman number two.

Taking only a few moments to snap Bat-cuffs on the two of them, Batman raced
down the corridor to the central hall where he knew the Taylor Collection to
be displayed. There, he knew, he would find his real target.

His instincts proved true once again as no sooner did he clear the large
archway, he spotted the brains of the operation busy stuffing the last of the
diamonds into an already full carry bag.

"I'm afraid the souvenir shop is on the first floor by the elevators," Batman
said as he scanned his surroundings and realized to his surprise that the
woman in front of him was all alone. "You're going to have to put those
trinkets back."

"Batman!" the woman in a soft white dress said, more in simple acknowledgment
of his presence than any real surprise. "I was so hoping that I'd get the
chance to meet you while I was in Gotham."

The self-confidence in her voice put Batman on guard. He hadn't survived all
these years by taking things at face value. He didn't see any obvious weapons
on her, but that didn't mean they weren't there. Or, there was always the
possibility that she might be a meta-human.

"Allow me to introduce myself," she said as she closed the bag and let it
fall to the floor, freeing both of her hands. "My name is Aphrodite, the
Goddess of Love."

Standing five-nine with flowing blonde hair and a body as voluptuous as any
of the Hollywood starlets Bruce Wayne had dated, the twenty-something woman
certainly fit the physical description of the Greek goddess. Still, the man
behind the mask thought it unlikely that a denizen of Olympus would need to
steal diamonds.

"I can see that you don't believe in me," Aphrodite said, "but soon enough
you will. And you shall serve me as all men shall serve me."

"I'd be happy to have the police physiologist discuss that with you," Batman
said as he took a few steps closer, removing another set of Bat-cuffs from
his utility belt, "after we take a little trip downtown."

"I think not," the beautiful young woman said, reaching into the folds of
her gown and removing a small, crystal orb, a fragile thing reminiscent of a
holiday ornament. "That you might understand, I give you my gift - the gift
of love."

As soon as the woman produced what might indeed be a weapon, Batman made
ready to deflect it. The action was instinctive and he was sure he could
handle any threat.

With a powerful toss that would be the envy of any minor league pitcher,
Aphrodite hurled the orb at Batman at a range that made it almost impossible
for her to miss. The Cape Crusader was ready, using his cape to catch the
fragile projectile and sending it hurdling to the far end of the room where
it shattered harmlessly.

But Aphrodite seemed to have anticipated that move and no sooner had she
tossed the first orb, a second was also on its way. There was no time for
Batman to react and deflect it as he had the first.

Suddenly, from out of the shadows, came another dark form, racing across the
room to a point half-way between Batman and Aphrodite. Determined to stop the
second projectile, Batgirl used the only obstacle she had time to employ, her
body itself.

The fragile crystal exploded against her chest, releasing an expanding mist
of sweet smelling gas. The sudden cloud caught Batgirl by surprise and while
it dissipated almost immediately, she couldn't help but breath in a large
amount of it.

Batman raced forward to aid Batgirl, cursing himself for not anticipating the
second attack. In the heartbeats it took to reach her, she had already lost
consciousness and dropped to the floor. Her vitals were still good, giving
hope that the orb had contained little more than a knock out gas. Effective
but otherwise harmless.

"Oh what a shame, I do seem to have hit the wrong Bat," Aphrodite giggled.
"Still, this should prove interesting as well. It's a pity I can't stay
around to watch."

With that, Aphrodite was gone, vanished down the hall and out of sight. There
was little chance, Batman knew, of the Gotham Police surrounding the building
catching her. But that didn't worry him, she would be back, they always were.
There would be another chance to take her down. Meanwhile, he needed to get
Batgirl out of here before the Chief's men filled the building.

Disabling the electrical field around the lower floors, Batman directed the
Batmobile by remote control to the side door in the alley. He radioed Chief
O'Hara where he could find the goddess of love's minions and then carried
Batgirl off to the side entrance.

A hospital would raise too many questions so he headed instead to the Crime
Alley clinic run by Dr. Leslie Tompkins. Better equipped than the emergency
rooms of most hospitals, thanks to generous grants by the Wayne Foundation,
the founder of the facility was a close personal friend of both Bruce Wayne
and Batman. It was the friendship of the later that insured that all of the
high priced equipment that filled the clinic, stayed there.

* * *

"I think your preliminary conclusion about the compound being some sort of
highly concentrated knock out gas looks to be pretty much on the money," Dr.
Tompkins announced as she finished her examination of Batgirl. "Still, there
are a few elements in it that I can't yet identify and there's no telling
what their effects might be."

"It there any chance that they might be fatal?" Batman asked.

"I don't think so, but you can never tell with an x-factor," Leslie
continued. "While it might not be toxic in and of itself, it could have side
effects on the body might prove hazardous."

"So what would you recommend?"

"Well her vitals are quite strong and getting more so by the minute so there
doesn't appear to any danger in moving her," the older woman said as she
stripped off her rubber gloves and dropped them into a waste pail. "I would
just keep her comfortable and she should wake up in a few hours."

"Thank you, Doctor," Batman smiled, relieved that his error hadn't had fatal
results.

"If there is any change in her condition, well you know how to reach me,"
Leslie said as she held up a small, powerful radio-transmitter from her bag.
"I must remember to thank Mr. Wayne for this and the latest batch of medical
supplies that he sent over. I don't know why he does it, but I am forever
grateful."

"You never know why a man like Bruce Wayne does anything," Batman replied,
"but I'm sure he knows what good work you do here for people that have no
where else to go."

As he carried Batgirl back to the car, Batman wished he could tell Leslie
Tompkins why Bruce Wayne had become the patron saint of her clinic. On the
night Thomas and Martha Wayne had been murdered, on a block not too far from
here, it had been a much younger Doctor Leslie Tompkins who had held an even
younger Bruce Wayne and tried to make the pain go away. The pain never did,
and had led to the birth of Batman. But he had never forgotten his debt to
Leslie Tompkins for trying.

With the two of them still in costume, taking Batgirl back to her own
apartment didn't seem like a good idea. For the same reasons, Bruce Wayne's
apartment in the city was also out. There was an available solution
fortunately.

Using third and sometimes fourth parties as cover, Batman, as Bruce Wayne,
had begun buying up small properties in and around Gotham. The idea was to
create a series of safe houses he, or his associates, could use when the
need arose. The closest of which, he remembered, was only a quarter mile
away.

Parking the Batmobile behind a false wall in the basement garage, Batman
took the still unconscious Batgirl down to the basement apartment by a back
staircase. It was only a small two room apartment with minimal furnishings,
but it was all they needed. Laying Batgirl out on the single bed, he turned
to the kitchenette to make some coffee.

Removing his cape, cowl and gauntlets to make himself more comfortable,
Batman also removed the same from Batgirl, in addition to her boots and
utility belt. According to the good doctor, she should regain consciousness
shortly and when she did, the two of them had a lot to talk about.

Almost as if on schedule, a low moan spilled from Batgirl's lips a few
minutes later, signaling her return to consciousness. Sitting up on the bed,
she brought her hand up to her head to stop the room from spinning.

"I can only hope whoever hit me feels even worse," Batgirl said as she
steadied herself.

"I'm afraid the person who hit you got away," Batman replied, keeping his
distance while she got her bearings, "but if it's any consolation, what hit
you was meant for me and you kept that from happening."

"Now I remember, the Diamond Exchange and Aphrodite," Batgirl said as the
room finally came into focus.

"Here, have some coffee, it should help," Batman said as he held out a cup.

Looking up at the Caped Crusader, Batgirl saw instead the face of her date
from the library dinner. Then she realized that she too was unmasked.

"Bruce Wayne, now I remember," Barbara said as her mind shifted into her real
identity mode. "The face behind the mask."

"Barbara Gordon," Bruce replied, "and I might say the same about you."

"Boy, I guess the laugh's really on me," Barbara said as she sipped at the
coffee. "And here I thought Bruce Wayne's big secret might've been that he
was a little light on the loafers."

"Not quite," Bruce replied as he finished up his own cup.

"Might I ask where I am?" Barbara asked as she took in her surroundings.

Bruce quickly explained where she was and the results of the examination
Doctor Tompkins have given her. Their best course of action, he suggested,
was to wait out the night and make sure there weren't any side effects from
the gas.

"Sounds good to me, cause I don't think I'm up to going anywhere right now,"
Barbara agreed. "You wouldn't happen to have any change of clothes here would
you, I left my dress back at the library and this costume is getting a little
warm."

"That I can help you with," Bruce smiled. "The other room is actually a walk
in closet with a large selection of clothes, including female attire. I'm
sure some if it is in your size."

"You think of everything, don't you?" Barbara said as she got up on her feet
and after a moment's hesitation, went off to the other room in search of a
change of clothing.

Thankful that Barbara seemed perfectly normal, Bruce poured himself another
cup of coffee. Gotham would have to do without Batman for the rest of the
night.

Inside the walk in closet, Barbara was amazed at the wide selection of
women's clothes she found there. There were a number of outfits her size,
ranging from simple sweats to an expensive dinner dress. There was even a
collection of suitable undergarments.

"Some how I don't think I'll ever have a wardrobe like this," she thought as
she held the dinner dress up between her and the full length mirror on the
far wall. "I bet this dress costs more than I make in a month."

Putting the dress back in place, Barbara was about to try something simpler
when she suddenly felt a lot warmer than before. No, not just warmer, she was
actually hot enough that sweat had begun to run down her back inside the
insulated batsuit. Frantically she worked her way out of it, stripping away
even the sports bra and cotton panties that she wore beneath.

Not even that helped as she was still burning up. The room around Barbara
began to spin and she had to grab hold of one of the clothing racks just to
keep her balance. Realizing that something was very wrong, the unmasked
Batgirl opened her mouth to call out for help.

Then, just as abruptly, her suddenly warmth faded and the room came back
into focus. Nothing was wrong, she told herself as her brain brushed away the
temporary cloudiness. No, for the first time in a very long time, something
was very right.

* * *

"That's right, Alfred, I'll be staying at the Kane Street apartment tonight
so cancel anything Bruce Wayne has scheduled for the early morning," Batman
said into the phone's receiver, confident that the attached scrabbling device
made it impossible for him to be overheard. "If anyone asks a reason why,
just tell them that Mr. Wayne had a very late evening and let them use their
imaginations from there."

As he hung up the phone, Batman was sure their imagined reasons were
certainly going to be a lot more interesting than the reality. Having Batgirl
revealed as Barbara Gordon had certainly taken the sails out of his own
fantasies as far as the Darknight Damsel had been concerned. A pity really,
he thought, as his own imaginings about her had been entertaining to say the
least.

Soft footsteps to his left alerted him to Barbara's return and he instantly
put such musings from his mind. Little realizing that said reflections paled
next to those now filling his counterpart's thoughts.

"Barbara, I ..." Batman started to say, only to have his words end in
mid-breath. Few where the times in his life that Bruce Wayne had been struck
speechless, but this was certainly one of them.

"Is that a batarang in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Barbara
asked as she stepped out into the center of the room.

The corny comment might've brought a load groan even from the pun-filled Boy
Wonder, assuming of course that he too hadn't been stuck dumb by the sudden
appearance of the red haired crimefighter. After all, it wasn't every day
that Batgirl walked in on you wearing nothing other than that with which
she'd come into this world.

It was fair to say that Bruce Wayne had seen more than his fair share of
naked women in his life, a disproportionate amount of which would fall into
the highest standards of beauty. Yet, few of them, he was readily willing to
admit, came close to the vision now only a few feet in front of him. Part of
the reason, he would later realize if he had the time, or inclination to
analyze the situation, was because he'd never really seen the woman before.
When he looked at Barbara Gordon, he'd always saw the Commissioner's daughter
or the dutiful Librarian - never just the woman.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bruce had forever fixed the image of
Barbara as that of the skinny teenage girl who had spied on him and her
father when they held late night consultations in the privacy of the
Commissioner's apartment. An image that had been reinforced many times by
the highly conservative wardrobe she normally wore on the job. He'd ignored
his own theory which he applied in the case of Bruce Wayne that the right
clothes sometimes hid much more than they displayed.

In the years since Barbara had been that teenager hiding in the wings, she
had spent as much time in the gym as she had in the classroom. The end result
being a body as finely toned as her mind. A lean, muscular athletic form that
perfectly blended in with a pair of soft, firm breasts. Not exceedingly
large, they were nevertheless perfectly symmetrical with the rest of her body
and capped by thick, pert nipples that had already sprung to life. Down
between her legs rested a carefully trimmed red mound, the cherished prize
that so many admirers, who saw her with clear eyes, had long lusted after.

"Catwoman got your tongue?" Barbara asked as she closed the few feet between
them and wrapped her arms around the startled Batman's neck. "Well let's just
see if I can't find it for you." she added as she brought her mouth to his
and kissed him passionately.

She did indeed find his tongue as her own wrapped around it, probing deep
into his mouth, pressing her naked body against his. Bruce couldn't help but
respond to her kiss, even though he knew it was wrong to do so.

But right and wrong didn't seem so absolute at the moment as Batman too
experienced a reaction similar to that which had affected Batgirl in the
other room. His own exposure to Aphrodite's orb had been peripheral at
best, but evidently it had been just enough to lower his own inhibitions.

Inhibitions that washed away with the tides of Barbara's lust as she grabbed
his cock through his costume and squeezed it tightly.

"I guess happy to see me wins out after all," Barbara laughed as she undid
the clasp of his utility belt, dropping it to the floor.

Trying one last time to fight the urges that threatened to overwhelm him,
Batman didn't have the strength to resist as Barbara removed the lower half
of his costume. Her hands closed once more against the large bulge in his
black briefs, rubbing her fingers against its hardness.

"What do we have here?" she grinned as her fingers took hold of the waistband
and she pulled down his underwear. "The famous bat-cock no doubt."

Whatever last vestiges of self-control Batman might've been trying to hold
on to faded at that point. Literally blow away as Batgirl closed her mouth
around his cock and took it deep inside of her.

"Mmmmm," she groaned in appreciation as her tongue swirled around his
thickness.

The bat-cock as she had named it was not exactly porn star material, but
neither was it anything for Bruce to be ashamed of. It was exactly what you
would've expected to find on a man of his build. A build that she had long
time noted, bordered on perfection.

"Oh God, Barbara ..." Bruce moaned loudly as he totally gave in to his long
held fantasies.

What was it had he compared the woman on her knees in front of him to, the
Caped Crusader's normally razor sharp brain tried to recall. Oh yes, an ice
princess he finally remembered. How long ago that had seemed, and how wrong
he had been.

With a skill that rivaled some of the most uninhibited starlets in Hollywood,
many of whom at one time or another found themselves on Bruce Wayne's arm or
his bed, Barbara Gordon forever dispelled that hated sobriquet.

His resolve now totally gone, Batman felt his legs grow weak as Batgirl slid
his cock in and out of her mouth, her tongue sliding back and forth along his
length. At the same time, her fingers gently massaged his balls, adding to
the pleasures rocking his body. Every once in a while, she would let his cock
slip from her mouth and move down below to his balls, kissing them and taking
one at a time into her mouth. Then she would work her way up again and
swallow him once more.

Fueled by the potent mix of his long secret fantasies and Aphrodite's drug,
not to mention Barbara's consummate skill at fellatio, Bruce quickly bordered
on the edge of orgasm. A state Batgirl was quick to recognize. She took him
even deeper into her mouth, increasing her ministrations as she did.

"Barbara ... I ..." the Darknight managed to gasp just before his cock
exploded between her lips, filling her with his climax.

A climax she drained every last vestige of as Batgirl refused to relinquish
her hold on him until he was totally spent and began to soften. Even then,
she was disappointed to let him go.

Rising to her feet, Barbara kissed him again. A deep kiss that Bruce didn't
hesitate to return. Whatever the circumstances, that had been the best blow
job of his life.

His pants still down around his ankles, the Caped Crusader held his naked
counterpart in his arms for what seemed the longest time, but in reality had
been a little more than a minute. Yet in that minute, a change had occurred
in him that was impossible not to notice. He no longer felt the effects of
the drug. Somehow, the intensity of his orgasm had burned it out of him.

The question then presented itself, would an orgasm have the same effect
on Batgirl? After all, she had received a much more concentrated dose of
Aphrodite's love potion. Perhaps it might be better, he thought now that his
head was clearing, to get her back to Doctor Tompkins so that they could run
more biochemical tests on her. Logically, that would be the best course of
action, but unfortunately, logic was the last on Batgirl's mind.

"Barbara, we have to get you back to the doctor," Bruce said in an intense
voice as he tried to get through to her. "We need to work up an antidote to
the drug in your system."

"Don't want an antidote," Batgirl purred in a voice Batman found too similar
to that of Catwoman not to be affected by it, "wanna fuck ... I wanna fuck
you! I've wanted to fuck you since I was a teenager."

As tempting as the offer was, even under the circumstances, Batman knew that
it wasn't one he could act on. No, he had to get Batgirl to medical help. The
question remained, however, how was he going to do it?

There was no telling what affect any additional drugs might have on her
system, so hitting her with the bat-spray was out of the question. As was
physical force because as sure as he was that he could overpower her under
normal circumstances, these were anything but normal.

The only solution, it finally seemed to him, was to do exactly what she
wanted and hope for the best. What Bruce didn't realize at the time was that
even though he had bested the primary effect of the drug, enough of it was
still in his system to influence his judgment.

Judgment that once more gave way to passion as he kissed Barbara again, this
time his hands exploring her body with great enthusiasm. An exploration that
brought gleeful sighs from the woman in his arms.

"Now it's your turn to do me," Batgirl insisted as she helped him out of the
remainder of his costume, an action only slowed by the fact that she insisted
on kissing each new section of exposed flesh as it appeared.

Turning her around in his arms, the now nude Batman brought his hands up to
her breasts and massaged them gently, his fingers closing around her erect
nipples. Tilting her head back, Batgirl's lips again met his, their tongues
interlocking as Bruce glided one hand down away from her twin mounds to the
much smaller one between her legs.

On the long road that led to his becoming Batman, Bruce Wayne had many
teachers along the way. Experts in their fields who taught him all they knew
of the skills he would need to wage his war against crime. On a parallel
road, he also learned the skills he would need as a man from equally skilled
experts in those fields. Skills that he applied to the woman pressed tightly
against him now.

Nimble fingers worked their way past the folds of Barbara's sex. Quickly
identifying her most sensitive spots, he worked the magic entrusted him long
ago by the most talented of courtesans, stroking her inner walls and deftly
caressing her already excited clit.

"Oh yes," Barbara moaned loudly as his actions sent tiny ripples of delight
racing through her body. Ripples that were soon to build in both frequency
and intensity.

The dexterity of the hand still on her breasts matched that between Batgirl's
legs and it wasn't long before the two-pronged advance had the desired
result. Bordering on the edge of orgasm, it only took a little more pressure
to bridge the gap. A pressure that was happily given and more than
appreciatively received.

"Mother of God!" Barbara screamed, falling back on her religious school
upbringing in a way the nuns never intended, as an intense orgasm racked her
body.

Holding her tightly, Batman felt her body quake and tremble, as sweat poured
down her skin. That little trick he had learned in a small inn outside of
Kyoto and it had never failed. It could turn even the coldest of women into
a raging inferno in an incredibly short amount of time. And once he looked
past his erroneous misconceptions, he knew that Barbara had hardly been the
former to start with.

Listening as her shallow breaths became longer and her body grew limp in his
arms, Batman waited for some sign that Batgirl's sexual release had the same
effect as it had on him. Finally, she lifted her head and looked up at him,
a smile on her face. Unfortunately, the words that came out of her mouth
weren't those at least part of him hoped to hear.

"More," she smiled. "I want more."

"This," the Caped Crusader admitted to himself as he again recounted that
Batgirl had taken the full impact of Aphrodite's orb and the drug it
contained, "is going to take some doing."

Coming to grips with that conclusion, the Darknight Detective set out to do
what had to be done.

* * *

Lifting Batgirl in his powerful arms, Batman carried her across the room to
the small bed she had previously been resting in. This time, however, sleep
wasn't on the agenda.

Kissing her softly, Bruce blazed a trail down from her mouth, across her neck
to the sweet fullness of her breasts. Again employing the skills taught to a
much younger explorer, he caressed her nipples with his lips and tongue,
while his fingers massaged the soft flesh surrounding them.

After a while, his journey continued downward, over the softness of her
stomach to the patch of short red hair between her legs. The pleasing aroma
of which drew him like a moth to the flame.

At first he was content to again gently probe it with his fingers,
reaffirming his knowledge of her most sensitive places. Then he replaced his
fingers with his mouth, relegating the former to keeping an open path to the
now exposed treasure.

Many things had been said about Bruce Wayne by the women he dated over the
years. That he had been fickle, that he was sometimes inattentive, that he
had an incredible fear of commitment. But to a woman, every one who had
shared his bed would all easily agree on one thing - the man did know how
to make a woman feel good.

With a skill that matched, then exceeded that which Barbara had exhibited on
him, Bruce brought the redhead beneath him to the joys of nirvana. Every
thrust of his tongue against her inner walls was reflected and multiplied
across her body, echoing the ripples he had produced before. Echoing, and
then surpassing.

He would bring her to the pinnacle of pleasure, then back down just enough
to start the ascent once more. And each time her body would cry for more, yet
fear that the next journey might be the last.

Three more times they made the climb and on each he had let her teeter on
the edge a longer time. Anticipation had almost become as desirable as
culmination. Almost, but not quite.

In place of their fourth ascent, Bruce lifted himself from between her legs,
just long enough to reposition his body. When she saw what he was doing,
Barbara let out a resounding yes to encourage him on.

Lifting her legs high, Bruce positioned his still hard cock at the saturated
entrance to her womanhood. It didn't take much effort to glide it in past the
barriers of her modesty. There was so little resistance in fact that he was
content to penetrate her only an inch or so at a time, letting the both of
them savor each delightful moment.

Filling her with his full length and girth, the man under the cowl reversed
direction with the same slow, measured pace, nearly withdrawing before
entering again. With each succeeding entry, his pace quickened until Barbara
could hold out no longer.

"Oh God, Batman ... Bruce ... fuck me," she cried out as she took hold of him
and pulled him into her. "Fuck me as hard as you can, I need you inside of me
so badly."

Even if part of what she was saying was the result of the chemicals in her
system, Bruce knew that part of it was also the consequence of long held
fantasies. Desires that predated even those he'd had about her. A hunger
that, regardless of its origin, was one they both shared.

Faster and harder Bruce fucked her, driving his cock as deep as it would go.
His sweating body was like a well-oiled piston, each movement carefully
choreographed for maximum effect. Motions energetically and loudly encouraged
by Barbara as every barrier in her body shuddered beneath his efforts and she
knew that she was on the threshold of the biggest orgasm of her life.

A threshold that Bruce could also sense, again through the result of
meticulous training. He knew they both were ready, but as more than one
teacher had taught him, it never hurt to give it that one little extra
push.

Withdrawing from her so quickly that she didn't have time to realize he'd
done so, Bruce grabbed the sides of Barbara's body and flipped her over. In
a second quick motion, he grabbed her thighs and lifted her midsection up
off the bed. Then, just as she was starting to react to his withdrawal. He
pressed forward and reentered her from the new position.

"Oh yes, that's even better than before," Barbara cried out as she buried her
face in the pillow and lifted her ass even higher, meeting Bruce's forward
thrust halfway.

A balancing act that quickly synchronized itself as they rocked back and
forth on the bed with double the intensity of only a few minutes before. No
longer did either of them have any control of what was happening, their
actions reduced to a primal function.

This time, Barbara didn't invoke the platitudes of her youth as she climaxed.
The force of her orgasm was such that even simple things such as words were
beyond her. The best she could manage was a simple sequence of grunts, just
enough to show that she had been satisfied beyond her expectations.

Bruce too had been totally drained by his own orgasm, his final effort taking
the last of his reserves to achieve. Letting out a loud sigh, he collapsed
across Barbara's back, his rapidly shrinking cock slipping out of her as he
did. Lifting his head to look up at her, he was glad to see that she had
given in to her own exhaustion and was now sound asleep. Closing his eyes
with a smile, he decided the best course of action was to join her. It wasn't
like he had the strength to do anything else.

* * *

The night had given way to an early dawn before Bruce opened his eyes again.
Barbara, on the other hand, showed no signs of waking anytime soon. After
checking her vitals, he quickly made a phone call to Doctor Tompkins and
after giving her a carefully edited version of last night's events, asked
her advice.

"I did some further tests after you left on the blood samples I took from
Batgirl," the doctor said over the phone. "It seems that the x-factor I
mentioned last night was keyed to behavioral response. Under the right set
of circumstances, it could lead to errors in judgment or even a total
lowering of inhibitions. So it was a good thing you decided to call it a
night when you did."

"Were you able to develop an antidote to the drug then?" Batman asked.

"No need to," Doctor Tompkins assured him, "the effective life of the
chemical combination appears to be quite short-lived. In fact, just a hard
workout would be enough to burn it out of your systems and that's one thing
I'm sure the two of you would have no trouble coming up with."

"I guess you could say that," Batman replied as he looked over at the still
nude Batgirl sleeping on the bed.

"Well feel free to call me if there are any other problems," the good doctor
said as they drew the call to a close.

The problem now facing Batman was hardly one Leslie could help him with. Of
course he could blame it all on the chemicals in their blood, but deep down
he know that wasn't true. Part of the blame for what happened was still his.
He only wondered what Batgirl's reaction would be when she woke up.

When that happened, he decided, maybe it was better if it was in more
familiar surroundings. A quick call to Alfred brought one of Bruce Wayne's
limousines to the basement garage of the building, along with the clothes
Batgirl had left behind at the library. After that, it was a quick trip to
Barbara's apartment where a sizable gratuity to the doorman ensured that no
questions were asked when he explained that she had a little too much to
drink celebrating her promotion the night before.

"Ah, she's a fine lass, Miss Gordon is," the white haired doorman said as he
unlocked the door to her apartment for the billionaire. "It's nice to see her
enjoy herself for a night, she works so hard she does. And don't you worry,
no one will ever hear ill of her from my lips."

Closing the door behind him, Bruce laid Barbara down on the couch and sat in
a plush chair on the other side of the coffee table. All there was to do now
was wait until she woke up and face the music.

An event that came to pass less than an hour later as Barbara began to stir.
Taking a deep breath, Bruce offered the waking librarian a cup of the herbal
tea he had found in the kitchen cabinets when he looked for something to
drink.

"Here, you might need this," Bruce said as he held out the cup.

"What the hell happened?" the redhead said as she slowly shook her head and
then took some of the tea. "How did I get home? What time is it?"

"I brought you home," Bruce offered, choosing his words carefully while she
got her bearings, "and as for the time, it's about a quarter past eight."

"A quarter past ..." Barbara repeated, trying to make sure she had heard him
correctly. "And you've been here the whole night with me?"

"Don't you remember?" Bruce asked, seeing a glimmer of hope after all.

"I remember the dinner, at least I think I do," Barbara went on as she tried
to fit the pieces in place. "How much did I have to drink?"

"Not that much," Bruce assured her, "I do remember you mentioning that you
weren't feeling well before we left."

It was then that Barbara took notice of the state of her clothing. It wasn't
anything she could put her finger on, but they just seemed out of place
somehow. She also felt like she needed a shower, as if she had been
overexerting herself for some reason. It was then a horrible thought
presented itself.

"You and I didn't ..." She asked, the meaning of the unfinished question
abundantly clear. "I mean I couldn't have ..."

Bruce took what Barbara felt was a long time to answer. When he finally did,
she got the impression that he was choosing his words very carefully. When he
did answer, it was somewhat cryptic as he assured her that if any article of
clothing had come off her last night, she had been the one to remove it.

"What does that mean?" Barbara silently asked herself. "Did I get sloshed and
do a striptease on the banquet table?"

"As much as I'd love to spend the rest of the day chatting with you, I do
have a business to run," Bruce said somewhat abruptly as he glanced at his
watch. "I do want to thank you again for a lovely evening."

"Sure, anytime," Barbara said in deference to Bruce's friendship with her
father, leaving out the second part of her thought, "but not anytime soon."

She saw Bruce to the door and watched as he walked down the corridor to the
elevator. For some reason, she got the distinct impression that he was
greatly relieved about something. Closing the door and locking it after he
got in the elevator, she tried again to remember just what happened last
night.

"Oh well, I guess if any of it was important I'll hear about it from someone
else soon enough," she thought as she picked up the rest of her tea and began
to finish it.

Putting the now empty cup in the sink, she considered that she might've been
wrong about Bruce Wayne after all. He might be a little wishy-washy about
some things, but she never thought him a liar. If he said she had gotten
sick, then that was what must've happened, even if he did seem to indulge in
a bit of humor about her not being able to remember much of it. And it was
pretty nice of him to wait and make sure she was all right before he left.

"Me and Bruce Wayne," Barbara mused as she again considered what she had
momentarily feared had happened between them last night as she lay down again
on the couch and let her tired body relax. "Nah, never could've happened.
Okay, I might've been wrong about him on some things, but he's certainly no
Batman."

As she closed her eyes and she felt sleep once more taking hold, her thoughts
again drifted to her favorite fantasy. One that involved a certain Darknight
and a whole new meaning to the phrase "dynamic duo".

END

(c) Ann Douglas 2005

    

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