The Adventures of Roxy Rocet!

Characters appear in this story that are property of DC comics. I have used them in honor of the comic series and admiration for the characters. All other characters are original creations of the author. This story is original, though makes mention of events that happened in the DC Universe. This story contains adult material of a sexual nature. If it is illegal for you to view such material, turn back now. This work is property of the author. Do not post this on any other site or use it for personal gain. It is for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.

*****

"Leave," Batman angrily commanded.

Roxy looked over to her lover, panic on the punk's face. Their bodies still entwined, Roxy could feel Sapphie quivering at the imposing sight of Batman. Tall, broad shouldered, dressed in all black including a cape. There was something so haunting about not seeing his face, either. Just his jaw, which barely moved when he barely spoke. Feeling her friend's fear, Roxy was compelled to defend her, to show her she'd be safe with her, even against the Bat.

"Hey!" she shouted back, standing up on still wobbly legs. It would be hard for Roxy to intimidate the Batman, ever, but especially difficult while naked and with the standing integrity of a newborn deer. "You don't tell my friends what to do! Especially not in my place of business...slash home."

"Now," he specified to Sapphie, his voice taking on an almost inhuman quality. To punctuate the point, he squeezed his fists tighter, causing the fabric to creak and draw attention to them. Batman of course wasn't going to hurt the woman, either of them, but he was a man of intimidation. When he wanted something done, he found that fear was the best method.

Sapphie was confident that Roxy could defend her until her last breath and for several punches after, but she wasn't about to have her do that. She also assumed Batman wouldn't really hurt either of them, he was a super hero after all. He wasn't, however, a super hero in the way that Superman was. He was barely more confirmed than an urban legend, and stories of his brutality were likely exaggerated, but she wasn't willing to see by how much.

"Yea, yea okay, I'm going," Sapphie complied, trying to keep herself covered while she redressed. Half way through getting her blouse on, Batman turned to her and said "And return that car from where you stole it." She was half surprised he knew it was stolen, but only half. He was Batman, after all. She had fully intended on returning it, it was just a prop in her gag. Any chance of her taking it for a joy ride or being lazy and just leaving it in a nearby ditch was obliterated by his orders.

Roxy remained defiant to Batman, fists planted on her broad hips, unashamed of her nudity, and just daring Batman to show any kind of embarrassment toward seeing her in a state of undress.

I would not want to play poker with him,

she thought, realizing she couldn't read any emotion on his face other than sternness. Breaking, she let out a sigh and dropped her arms to her side, surrendering to Batman's staring contest.

"Fine, I'm sorry I told someone about our little arrangement," she admitted, assuming his negative attitude was due to her spilling the beans. "I tell Sapphie everything, though!"

"I know."

"You...do?"

"I knew you would tell Ms. Song about me. She's been your friend since your first stunt job on a movie, and has been deeply involved in your life ever since," he revealed. He stepped toward the table where Roxy was standing. From within his cape he pulled out a folded set of clothes for her to put on.

"So what was all that doom and gloom you casted over us?" Roxy had to know.

"To remind you that I was serious about you not telling anybody

else

about us. And so Sapphie doesn't get the idea to tell anyone about what she knows."

"Why let me tell anyone at all then?" Roxy pushed, certain, after she said it, that she ran the risk of Batman enforcing some kind of punishment for her constant questions, or revoking her right to even speak to Sapphie further until their training was done. Roxy loved fear, but she didn't like

that

feeling of dread that burrowed into the pit of her stomach.

"Because no one should have to do this alone," he softly put. Roxy could hear the experiences in his voice, his position fueled by tragedy and regret. She began to reach out to cup her hand to his shoulder, in some vain attempt to console him of pain she knew, deep down, she couldn't mend. "Get dressed." His shoulder was moved away from her hand as he turned after the given command, and walked out the door to wait for her to get ready.

Roxy emerged minutes later, now comfortably clad in the work-out clothes he had just given her. A simple black tank top and sweat pants. She wore her own sneakers and gloves to complete the outfit. Enough time had passed for Roxy to find her humor again, even after Batman barked her friend out of her home and showed some brief vulnerability.

"Hey, so while I appreciate the offer to train me, I

do

already know how to fight," she boasted, flexing her arms and giving a few swift and precise punches to the air. While she had been trained on how to stunt fight, she knew it was a simple matter of just ditching the mindset of not hurting your partner.

"Not well enough," Batman criticized.

She gave a huff, rolling her eyes at his counter to her brag. "I beg to differ, Bats. Maybe you should ask Batwoman about how I beat up those creeps in the alley way six months ago. I can handle myself in a fight." Then she thought about Batwoman and grew a wicked smirk. "How is Batwoman by the way? Did she ask about me?"

Batman ignored her inquiry into the redheaded Batwoman, and instead addressed her presumption that she was ready to handle herself in a real brawl. "If you do this, you won't just be going up against perverts in narrow alleys," he explained, referring back to her earlier bout that she claimed was evidence to her prowess. "You'll be facing down killers, some with abilities you and I can never have. So you have to train to be better than they could ever be."

"Pfft, I'm not scared," she courageously stated, puffing out her full chest in defiance to the world. "Guy pulls a gun on me, I'll just quick draw and shoot him first," she promised. Roxy then mimicked her plan, using her fingers as guns and making

pew pew

sounds as she pretended to shoot the imaginary murderer.

"No!" he snapped, with more anger than Roxy had ever seen in him, or anyone. "You will not kill. Not anyone. Do I make myself clear? If you can't agree to that, then we stop, here and now. If you plan to go out there and take lives, even in the name of justice, I will put you back in that prison and I will not tell the warden to go easy on your sentence this time. Do you understand me?"

The brunette bomber had never see Batman that stern and angry before. It put into perspective all the other times she thought he was genuinely angry. They now clearly were painted as acts, meant only to intimidate so he could get his way, to maintain an order he felt was best. This, however, Roxy knew was real. She had no witty remark to give him in response, no snappy comeback or quip to maintain a level of control of the situation.

"Yea, yea I understand," she stuttered out, feeling, for the first time, real fear of the Batman.

"Good. Follow me," he said as he began to walk away. It was like a switch. Roxy had seen him with a rage so fiery in his eyes that she figured it could never be contained. And yet, he had just boxed it away. He was still stern and humorless, but she didn't fear this side of him. Though she thought perhaps she should. If he could produce that kind of anger, and have the power to control it, she knew it wouldn't be wise to mess with him.

Before the distance between them got too great, Roxy sprinted back toward him to walk alongside him. "Heeey," she started, finding her smile again. "Did you really ask the warden to reduce my sentence? I think you're sweet on me, ya big lug," she sweetly said, punching him in the arm, and finding no give in his rocky exterior.

You never had to walk far in Gotham to find an abandoned warehouse, factory, carnival or whatever you wanted for your theme-matching villain hideout. Roxy wasn't going to be training in an abandoned movie lot or rocket testing lab, though. Instead, she got a run-of-the-mill warehouse, long since left to be taken by the members of the street. Inside, however, Roxy was surprised to see there was no one else there but her and the Batman.

"Wow, not an addict in sight," she said, her comment echoing through the wide open space. "Usually these places are swarming with junkies. Or worse."

"I cleared them out," Batman took credit for. He needed an large, empty space, for them to train in. He didn't trust her enough, yet, to take her to the Batcave, or even reveal its existence. Getting rid of drug addicts was usually an easy enough task. He was already a scary figure to behold, but what a junkie saw while high was something truly terrifying. The gang was a bit tougher to get rid of, but he convinced their leader to take his men elsewhere. "Now take a stance," he told Roxy, standing several feet from her and waiting to see how she held herself in a fight.

"A stance? Okay, uh, I think a woman should have the right to choose what happens to her body, I think puppies should become the new national animal, I think-" she started to list off her political stances before Batman got tired of her joke and cut her off.

"A fighting stance."

"I know," Roxy agreed with a heavy sigh. "God, you have no sense of humor, I swear." Roxy planted her feet apart, turned her body slightly, and held up her fists in a defensive position, though one that would allow them ready to shoot outwards to land a swift and decisive punch.

Accepting her stance, Batman himself got ready. First his cape came off, falling to the floor with a weight that Roxy was surprised to hear. Then came the gloves, and eventually the armor and costume that adorned his upper body. He didn't want to fight her with all those added advantages. If he had felt it would be appropriate, he would have suggested they fight completely naked, maybe a small bit of underwear for modesty, to completely remove any advantages or disadvantages.

"Hello there, Delilah," Roxy said to herself, admiring the view. Batman was built like a Master of the Universe. Bulging muscles, tanned and large. His chest thrust out from his torso, covered in a moderate amount of hair. Not enough to obscure a single detail, but still enough to remind her of his testosterone. Roxy had never seen so many abs on one man, and began to wonder if he did have some super powers that allowed him to get this bulky, and yet not look like a monster. Just as her eyes were beginning to trace the V that his muscles and hip bones made toward his belt, she felt herself crashing to the floor after her legs were swept out from under her.

"Don't get distracted," he said simply, giving her her first lesson while looking down at her, offering a hand to help her back up.

"You're the one giving me the half Monty!" she said with a groan, rubbing the back of her head. It was a good lesson to have, she figured. Roxy didn't have a problem shutting out the world around her. Explosions, car engines, screaming. It all became white noise when she focused on performing a stunt. She knew if she got too distracted, she could hesitate and that would spell death, or worse: an injury that would prevent her from ever performing her dangerous feats ever again. If a curvy woman crossed her path, or in this case a muscley bat, she shut out everything she was supposed to be doing while she thought of how to get that person into bed with her.

They trained for several hours, and yet Roxy never felt herself get tired. Until she did. She never had a problem, in the past, outlasting her partners in any arena. The Batman, however, didn't even break a sweat until she was already drenched in her own. She was at least happy that she was able to hold her own against him. He was strong, her punched stomach and brushed arms could attest to that, and faster than his bulky form would lead her to believe. She was faster, though. More lithe and agile, she learned quickly her best chance at winning was to let him believe he had an opening, and then exploit his attack.

He would adapt quickly, however. Just when she was confident she had him figured out, he would change things up so she was reminded just how chaotic a fight can be. It was as if he was channeling 100 different fighting styles and possible scenarios, enacting one after the other as soon as she found a way to survive the previous one. Just before she was ready to lie down, feeling as if her bones had vanished and her muscles turned to jelly, Batman ended the session.

She had two motivations that helped her get through her sparing session. One was the desire to prove to Batman, and to herself, that she could not only hold her own in a fight, but could also kick Batman's ass. She wasn't able to really maintain the latter point, but given that she came out the other end alive, she felt she proved the former. Her other goal that helped to motivate her was to get close enough to touch his ass. Sadly, Roxy failed in that regard. She did, however, enjoy putting his arm into a leg lock, and began to grind herself against his bicep.

I'm the worst lesbian

, she thought, amusing herself.

Roxy was told that she did well, though they were far from finished. She went from a smile to a frown in record time at that revelation. She tried to argue, or even give a clever quip, but her lungs were too focused on getting air to even say a word. Batman appreciated a new sense of quiet from her. Scheduling her for another sparring session the following day, Batman then dressed and left her to find her way back home.

Her breath caught and her sweat dabbed away, Roxy looked forward to heading back home and resting for the rest of her life, even if she had to lie to herself about needing to spar again tomorrow to do it. Half way through the alleyway, she heard the sound of something landing behind her, and heavy cloth following with it. It was far too light to be Batman, though she realized she was half right when she turned around to see who it was. Batwoman.

Mimicking how Batman had approached the pair six months ago, she rose up slowly from her crouched landing position. Roxy told herself she was doing it all for her, to show off her curves rising out of the black mass near the ground. "Well hello there, tall, pale, and curvy. Been wonderin' if you'd come by to say hi," she greeted the bright red-haired woman.

"Shut up!" she snapped, her emotions bubbling near the surface. Batwoman had an obvious bone to pick with her. She stomped over just close enough to stare Roxy down; though she regretted her decision when she noticed how gorgeous her eyes were. How her curious face perfectly framed her big eyes and plump lips. A cute button nose in the middle of it all. Batwoman shook this feelings away and let her original purpose return. "I don't trust you, Sutton."

"Roxy's fine," she replied, staring back at her own eyes, though she couldn't make them out through her mask. "Or Ms. Rocket if you're into the whole brevity thing," she teased, mocking the seriousness that Batwoman had approached her with. Batwoman's vague eyes narrowed down, and her cherry lips pulled back in a sneer, letting just a hint of her white teeth show behind them. "What's the big deal?" she asked. "Batman trusts me."

"I'm not Batman," she firmly stated.

"I know, I know. You're not Batgirl. You're not Batman. You're Bat

woman

," Roxy said, showing she remembered their first encounter. "Still, you're a bat, and he's the big bat, which makes him your boss, right? So relax." Roxy offered a hand toward her shoulder, but for the second time today a caped crusader avoided her consoling hand.

"He's not my boss!" she snapped, acting with more offense than Roxy felt was necessary. She figured Batwoman must get that all the time, being mistaken for Batman's sidekick.

"Touchy touchy," she scoffed, but returned with a smile. "Speaking of touchy, how about I help you relax with a little massage?"

"Watch it, Sutton," Batwoman warned.

"Come on, I promise, I'm veeeery good with my fingers," she offered again, wiggling her fingers in the air as she approached. Batwoman took one step back for every two steps that Roxy took. Before long, Roxy had her up against the brick wall.

"Oh please," Batwoman huffed, trying to save face by acting like Roxy wasn't a threat, that her promise of a good time was all talk and she couldn't possibly do anything to make her happy. In her mind, she saw this as a defense, though in her heart she feared it was more like a challenge she'd hope she'd accept.

"Well since you asked so nicely," Roxy cooed before gliding her fingers up the caped-woman's clavicle and behind her neck.

"That's not what I meant," she said, taking all her strength not to shudder and stutter out the words with her quivering.

"Just say the word and I'll stop," Roxy promised. "Otherwise..." she trailed off, stepping closer and now pressing her body against the taller woman's. Roxy started to get up on her toes to close the gap between their lips. Her breasts, barely contained in the sweaty tank, pressed up against Batwoman's more considerable bust, which thrust against her costume.

"I'm warning you, Sutton," she gave one last attempt at proving she didn't want this, but realized her hands were getting dangerously close to Roxy's wide, inviting, hips.

"Still not hearing that 'no'," Roxy whispered against her lips.

"Roxy, I-" but before she could act out another fake protest, her lips were occupied by other activities. Batwoman was surprised that, even with Roxy's trademark forwardness, she was very gentle, taking her time to let Batwoman savor every movement of her lips against her own.

Roxy was confident that Batwoman would not pull away, and that her protests were just her way of hiding her true feelings. Her body language was almost deafening. The most damning evidence of all was Batwoman's lack of trying to escape. With another woman, simply backing up might be enough to convince her, but this was Batwoman. She could have thrown her to the ground in 100 different ways, or zip-lined out of the alleyway. Instead, she stayed, and let Roxy advance. She wanted to be slow with her, as to not spook her, to avoid scaring her off when she began to doubt if they were going too fast. However, Roxy could only go so slow before needing to speed up.

After tasting the cherry lips she had been dreaming about, which, much to her delight, tasted like cherries, she started to press the tip of her tongue between the woman's lips. Her tongue met with a wall of teeth, and Roxy knew she wasn't ready. Normally, she would just pinch her partner's nipples and force her to let out a moan so she could thrust her tongue in, but again - she wanted to be slower than that. So instead she just gently massaged her earlobe. Her thumb, meanwhile, ran up and down the base of Batwoman's throat, letting Roxy feeling the vibrations of her moan while they traveled up.

Batwoman let out a shuddering, quiet, moan when Roxy bit her bottom lip and pulled slightly. Next she felt a tongue enter into her mouth and immediately began massaging itself against her own tongue. Though tentative at first, Batwoman soon returned the kindness, moving her tongue against Roxy's and moving between their pressed lips to taste the inside of her mouth. She remembered how Roxy had to get up onto her toes to reach her, and she wanted to help her out a bit with that. A red gloved hand pressed against the small of Roxy's back, pushing up slightly to take a small amount of stress off her toes.