Note- Another mash up of some of my favourite sixties spies with Batgirl. Although the Thunderbirds show was set between 2065 and 2068, I brought Lady Penelope back into 1968. For Yvonne, Alexandra, and Sylvia.
xxx
Sharron Macready was one of The Champions. Endowed with superior skills and qualities that included fantastic vision and hearing, and heightened strength and durability. Sharron Macready, a recently widowed scientist, whilst on a secret mission in the Himalayas had encountered a lost civilisation in the snowy wastelands of Tibet. The unknown race of people had given her gifts, both physical and mental, gifts that the attractive young blonde used to the best of her advantage as one of the champions of law, order and justice. An operator of the international agency of Nemesis.
x
He was the sort of eccentric Englishman who always wore his monocle. Even in the bath. And his moustache was always waxed to perfection. Such a gentleman was Sir Hugh Creighton-Ward, the erstwhile father of Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. He had been born, had lived, and indeed had died in the same residence, the stately Creighton-Ward Mansion. Earlier in his life he had been a young politician. Soon after leaving the Government, he had been tasked with organising a vast tea growing community in India, which took the best part of ten years. On his return to England, he married and the union bore one child. He and his wife died young, leaving his daughter considerably well off.
x
Born in 1945, the now twenty- three year old Lady Penelope took after her mother, with astonishing good looks, luxuriant strawberry blonde hair, and blue-grey eyes. After her schooling, she soon became the rage of Chelsea society, attending numerous parties, balls, fetes, and hunt balls. All of which she found to be utterly boring. Very much like her father, Penelope had spirit, determination, and had acquired his need to live her life on the edge.
x
She desired adventure, action, and intrigue. And the virile young thing also possessed a healthy inclination for matters of a more physical nature. Or to put it more bluntly, the hot blonde loved to have sex. Often, and with either persuasion. Blessed with a body to die for, the bubbly blonde was beyond desirable and had become hugely popular at the height of the swinging sixties, and had the pick and choose of all of the bright young men and women around.
But most off all, Penny wanted to be a covert secret agent. To investigate those involved in espionage and treason in this never ending cold war. She had found gainful employment with various organisations, and when asked by Nemesis, the UN law enforcement confederation based in Geneva to play a part in a mission, she jumped at the chance.
x
A shaft of pale sunshine filtered through the window as Barbara Gordon rubbed her tired eyes for the third time in as many minutes. Tired from poring over dozens of marriage and death certificates in the public records office of the tiny village of Little Piddlington. It was mostly her own fault that she was irritable and bored on this hazy day in May. It was the second week of her solo trip to England. A month long visit in order to trace the ancestors of her father, Commissioner of Police in Gotham City. She had gotten sidetracked soon after arriving when she had become involved in the thrilling escapade with two agents of UNCLE, in which she had donned the costume of her alter ego, Batgirl.
"That was fun."
She recalled as she closed the big ledger on the table in front of her. This was the real problem. Babs missed the excitement of being a crime fighter on the sin filled streets of Gotham. And not only that, she missed her sometime lover, Skip. He was mostly inconsiderate with her in bed, but he always got her off.
"Be careful what you wish for, Barbara."
She told herself, remembering the very satisfying threesome she had enjoyed with April Dancer and Mark Slate. They had made love all evening and Barbara had lost count of the number of orgasms she had achieved. (See Batgirl '68 meets the Girl from Uncle, published here.)
"This is the BBC."
The girl at reception turned up her transistor radio as the hourly news came on.
"News just in, the Princess Amara of Kamabinia is to arrive on a surprise visit to England in order to officially open the Republic's new embassy in Londinium. The twenty year old has been opposed to the latest West African state since becoming independent of France, and she has amassed a loyal following. She plans on holding a masquerade party tomorrow night to officially declare herself sovereign leader."
"Golly," said the receptionist. "A real life African Princess here!"
"That is cool." Agreed Barbara. That might be fun she thought. To turn up at the party in her Batgirl costume. What a riot. Any excuse to avoid the dreary research.
x
When Sharron arrived at Creighton-Ward Mansion, she felt like she was stepping into the canvas of an 18th Century oil painting. She was highly impressed. Not only by the extravagant stately home, but also by the still relatively young lady of the house. Lady Penelope welcomed her with a warm smile and open arms. The glamorous hostess looked her usual elegant self in a slinky iridescent in bright silver and matching strap sandals with a three inch heel. Her strawberry blonde hair was in a French twist style, which showed off her extravagant earrings.
"Darling, so nice to meet you. Do sit down."
As they sat down in the large drawing room, Penelope pulled on a long chain which silently summoned her trusty butler.
"You rang, M'Lady?"
A man appeared almost instantly in a black uniform and polished shoes. He had a craggy face and a rather large nose for the size of his head.
"Yes, Parker. Tea for two. And some of those delightful dark chocolate and orange biscuits from Fortnum and Mason."
"At once, M'Lady."
"They do go so well with a cup of Darjeeling."
"Thank you."
"So tell of your latest assignment. I'm grateful to be included."
Parker returned, depositing a tray on the table. Sharron took a gulp of hot tea, crossed her slender legs and settled back in her plush seat.
"Nothing definite, but so many reports have filtered through to Tremayne, that it can't all be put down to wild imagination."
"Quite so, quite so. Mister Tremayne is your number one?"
"Yes. Stationed in Geneva. He has a shrewd head on his shoulders. Word has come to his attention that the Princess Amara of Kamabinia, the newest Republic in West Africa, is not only coming to England on a private visit but will also be the subject of a kidnap attempt. She has declared herself the new leader of the state and has many enemies."
"Gosh! How thrilling!"