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.
Author's Note - The characters in the story are based on those in the original comics (pre 1985) and not any current versions.
All characters in sexual situations are 18+
*****
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.
