(Author's Intro....
This story (Episode 2) is a 'prequel' to the 'A Day In Gotham' series that I wrote a year or so ago. In particular, it precedes 'Batgirl's Dilemma' which is the first story that I wrote and technically is Episode 3 in the series. I always had it in mind to come back to Batgirl at some stage (she's such a fun character!) and fill in some gaps, and this story attempts to set the stage for some of the later action. As it developed, it grew (as usual!), so I've split it into three parts. This will therefore be Episode 2 Part 1. Hope that's not as complicated as it sounds!
Some kind people have contacted me over the last year requesting a follow-up to my last piece, Batgirl Vexed (Episode 8), particularly as the ending was not to everyone's taste, so I've sketched out a storyline which I'll hopefully have ready shortly after I've finished these three episodes.
As ever, I write these for people's entertainment and to give me some practice in the black art of storytelling. Feedback of any shape, size or intensity is always welcome!
Please enjoy........ Duke1951)
Index :
1 -- Batgirl Goes Solo
2 -- Threats in the Barn
3 -- Batgirl Has a Problem
4 -- A Fate Worse Than ........?
5 - Plan A -- High Expectations
6 - So What Was Plan B Again?
7 - The Aftermath
8 - After the Aftermath
9 - Heather's Party Surprise
10 - Catgirl Attempts 'Gentle Persuasion'
1 -- Batgirl Goes Solo
The adrenaline had stopped pumping. The excitement had dissipated. It had become, unbelievably, a bit boring!
She stopped in front of a large department store and examined her reflection in the giant plate glass window. Even in the dim street lights, the image reflected back brought a satisfied smile to her face. She turned slightly to get a profile, pleased at the way her tight purple costume clung to her shapely figure. Her latex clad bosom thrust forward suggestively, her narrow waist was gripped by the bright yellow utility belt and her nicely rounded rear end curved smoothly down into a pair of lithe, young legs that disappeared into her long black boots. She lifted her black gloved hands to smooth the bush of red hair cascading down her back from the under the purple cowl. It was a blatant, narcissist pose, but she didn't care. She looked fabulous, she knew, and she felt great about it!
It was late, about eleven, and the streets of Gotham City were starting to clear. It didn't look like she'd be getting much action now, and on top of that, and to her considerable annoyance it was just starting to drizzle with a light rain. She drew in a deep breath as she thought back to her earlier excitement as she'd started her first solo patrol. It was the first time without either Batman or Robin doing their hand-holding routine.
It really was frustrating! She'd spent months pestering Batman to let her loose. She'd invested years of her young life training hard under Batman's guiding hand, building up her strength, learning fighting techniques that should have won her Olympic medals. Now here she was, almost twenty two, a finely tuned super-athlete ready to take on the worst that Gotham could throw at her and what had she achieved? A couple of 'drunk and disorderlys', a failed mugging and a thwarted bag snatch!
At least the bag-snatcher had made a run for it and she'd been able to demonstrate her speed and power in taking the young hooligan down. The police had queried the bruising when she'd handed him over but hey, a girl had to get some fun out of fighting crime didn't she?
Then there'd been the reporter. How he'd found her she didn't know. He'd wanted to follow her, write up a scoop. Ah, as if! She'd soon sent him off with a flea in his ear as well.
It almost brought a tear to her eye. Such high expectations, such a miserable tally! Batman wouldn't laugh of course. He was better than that, but she could almost hear the slightly condescending words of re-assurance that she'd get when she reported in. And 'condescension' was the last thing she wanted from Batman. She'd so hoped to be able to impress him, make him see her as a woman to contend with, not a girl anymore. Make him want to wrap his arms round her, to feel her urgent response, to pull her to him and take her ........
'Oh God, not again!' she thought angrily to herself as she wiped the vision from her mind, 'Get a grip girl. This is getting almost obsessive!' She hadn't been able to suppress the little shiver that ran through her though, or the tingle that had appeared between her legs at the thought of those strong hands caressing her.
Suddenly her senses sharpened! What was it she'd heard?
She stepped back into the shadows as she turned towards a group of men who'd just tumbled out of one of the nearby bars. They were laughing and joshing each other in the friendly way men do after a few drinks. She studied them warily. There were four of them and they were big, powerful looking men, casually dressed but, for all the laughter, there was something sinister about them. It looked like this mob really could be worthy opponents because the word that had caught her attention and was bouncing around her brain didn't normally sit well in conversations about football or the barmaid's physical attributes.
'Kidnap' meant something a bit more serious surely!
She followed them discretely around a couple of corners, excitement mounting, before watching them board a large black SUV. There was just time to dash forward, keeping low, and attaching a Bat-Tracer to the rear bumper before it pulled out into traffic.
Heart pumping hard, she twisted round and sprinted away towards the alley where she'd parked her Bat-Bike a couple of blocks away. This was more like it, a bit of action at last!
She was hardly out of breath when she reached the alleyway and was congratulating herself on her superb physical condition when she suddenly pulled up abruptly. A small red light on the steering column console was blinking urgently. The alarm on the bike had been triggered!
Batman had spent many months with Batgirl designing and building the bike to her specifications and had insisted on installing a small electrical shocker to deter would-be thieves. Batgirl being Batgirl had tested it and decided that something stronger was required so she'd secretly upgraded the system to give a somewhat stronger jolt. A seriously strong shock in fact.
She peered further into the darkness of the alley where a dark figure lay squirming in the dirt, moaning softly.
"Well, that'll teach you a lesson won't it! No time to sort you out though," she murmured as she disabled the alarm and jumped on her machine, hitting the starter in one smooth motion and feeling the powerful v-twin motor come to life between her legs. She switched on the console tracker and paused for a moment as it searched for the Bat-Tracer's signal, breathing a sigh of satisfaction as she saw it pulsing away on the street display. They hadn't got far and were heading East on the main route out of the centre.
Within seconds she was off, weaving expertly through the traffic until she'd caught them, slotting in a couple of cars back and trying to be patient. But a nagging doubt had been building in her mind about this. Were they really up to no good? Had she misinterpreted the comment? She was seriously wondering whether to call it off as they reached the outskirts and she had to drop even farther back to avoid being spotted, but after a couple of miles into the country, she saw the SUV indicate left and disappear up a track between trees. She paused at the turn-off and seeing the sign for a farm, idled the machine up the track until she reached a clearing with a farmhouse and outbuildings. The farmhouse looked dark and deserted, but nearby was a big timbered barn and the SUV was parked outside.
'Oh well, better see what they're up to,' she thought, hoping fervently that it wasn't just a late night poker school.
2 -- Threats in the Barn
After hiding the Bat-Bike behind some shrubbery, Batgirl carefully walked around the barn. There was light leaking out from gaps in the big front doors, but clearly she couldn't just barge in. However, down the side opposite from the house, she spotted a window near the roof. It looked slightly ajar, so she quickly pulled out a thin throwing rope from her belt and launched it at the roof above. The end was weighted and sharp and she was pleased to fell it snag something solid. Satisfied after testing the tension she began hauling herself up until she reached the window, eased it open and slipped silently inside.
She crouched in the semi-darkness, senses on full alert. She appeared to be on some sort of platform stretching the width of the barn and covered with bales of hay and other farming paraphernalia, it was incredibly dusty and for a moment she thought she might sneeze and ruin the plan completely. By a supreme effort of willpower though she fought back the urge and looked around. Light was filtering through from the end of the barn near the door, and she could hear the men talking, but they were out of sight. She crept lightly forward towards the edge of the platform, using some bales of hay for cover.
Looking down she could see the four big men below her, lounging about in a pool of light illuminated by a single bright light hanging down from the ceiling on a long wire in front of her. Alongside it chains dangled down from a pulley attached to the main ceiling beam. The men were chatting relatively quietly and she couldn't make out the words consistently but she soon got the impression that they were waiting for something.
Now what? She'd come this far on a hunch and, despite their menacing manner, they'd broken no laws. How long should she just sit here and wait? What if something dramatic happened back in town and she missed it? Batman would probably have something scathing to say about 'women's intuition', but she could deal with that. The indecision was annoying, but in the end she decided to grit her teeth and wait it out.
Fortunately she didn't have to wait long.
After about ten minutes, she heard another vehicle pulling into the clearing and lurching to a stop on the gravel outside the barn. It sounded big. A few minutes later the small access door set into the big barn door, creaked open and, to Batgirl's horror, another four big men trooped into the barn, shaking hands and greeting each other with manly back-slaps. The language was hardly kindergarten friendly, but at least was loud enough for her to pick up some key information.
"Boss has got the fuckers," said one of the newcomers loudly, "Marco'll be here in a few minutes."
Batgirl was now in a quandary. At least it looked like something would happen after all, but now there were eight large bruisers below her, with the possibility of more to come. The odds may have been ok before, but now they looked decidedly iffy, and Batman had a standing rule that anyone facing that sort of number had to call for back-up. She was in two minds again. Calling for help was absolutely the last thing she wanted to do on her first solo patrol, and still nothing untoward had happened. She decided to wait and watch.
