Batgirl: Sex Bomb Ch. 01

After a short, pregnant pause, during which they both grinned at each other, in embarrassment, Barbara broke the silence.

"Give me a call at the Central Library, tomorrow... about noon. I work there during the day, by the way." She smiled, briefly. "We can do lunch and I can try to explain things! 'Bye, Officer Thackeray!"

"Goodbye Ms. Gordon!" Phil replied, watching her turn and hurry away across the well-lit compound, her shapely ass swaying, fetchingly. "That girl has a figure to die for," he added, under his breath.

He took out his notebook and pencil and wrote down her phone number, before wiping all trace of it from the condensation on the passenger window.

Wednesday, 1:02 am

The Caped Crusaders had spotted the street robbery taking place, from their vantage point, high on the flat rooftop of the Sheringdon Hotel, where the crime-busting duo had been maintaining a night-time vigil.

"Follow me, Robin!" declared the Dark Knight, bounding over to the fire escape and clipping a line to the metal framework, before plunging down the hanging nylon rope at breathtaking pace, on the descending mechanism that was attached to it.

The more gaudily dressed half of the crime-fighting duo, quickly followed his partner's example, mere seconds later.

-oOo-

"I said hand over all your cash and credit cards!" snarled the lanky individual in the pin-stripped suit and fedora hat, who was waving his bright, shiny, newly acquired handgun in the faces of the terrified middle-aged couple. "Do it, or I shall blow your fuckin' brains all over the goddamn sidewalk!"

The plump, smartly dressed man gulped. Up until this point, he had steadfastly refused to comply with the punk's outrageous demands but he was starting to have second thoughts.

"Give him what he wants, Henry," pleaded the terrified woman, obviously the man's wife, who was clinging tightly to his arm. "It isn't worth our lives, dearest!"

The husband nodded, knowing that he had no other sensible choice. The guy had a crazed look on his face, as if he were high on drugs.

"Okay, okay, I'm reaching for my wallet," he said, begrudgingly, moving slowly, as he took out his billfold from his inside jacket pocket. "Here!"

The armed robber snatched the billfold from his chubby grasp.

"And the watch!" he snarled, his eyes glittering, dangerously.

The man slipped the expensive Rolex from his wrist and handed it over, without a word.

"Now the bitch's jewelry!"

"Noooo, please, not my necklace," protested the woman, tearfully, her hand moving to her throat. "It belonged to my late mother!"

"Hand it over, bitch, unless ya want it to belong to her late daughter!" The hoodlum cackled with humorless laughter, at this clever retort, then scowled again, his finger tightening on the trigger, the gun barrel mere inches from the woman's forehead. "I ain't used ta saying things twice, bitch! Now, hand over...."

Ooof!" The air rushed from his lungs, as a pair of booted feet struck him hard, in the small of his back, sending him staggering forward. He crashed, face first, into the brick wall, alongside his victim, before spinning around and falling to the sidewalk, beneath the light of the nearby streetlamp.

Miraculously, he was still fully conscious and still holding the gun, as he staggered back to his feet, blood streaming from a deep cut in his forehead.

"Batman?" he croaked, recognizing the approaching figure, with his bat-like cowl and yellow Bat-emblem on his Kevlar armored chest. Normally, he would have been terrified by the sight, but the reassuring feel of the piece in his hand, gave him added courage.

"This is where you get yours, Caped Crusader!" he snarled.

He raised the gun and fired, but just as he squeezed the trigger, a Karate chop to the back of his neck, caused him to lurch forward, ruining his aim. He staggered forward, half falling, only to be met by a raised knee, that caught him smack on the point of his jaw. With a low grunt of pain, he lost all interest in events. The gun went flying from his grasp, as he pitched forward, out like a light.

Robin lightly ran over to the Dark Knight, who was holding his upper left arm and grimacing. "Are you alright, Batman?" he cried out, anxiously.

"Just a slight graze, Boy Wonder! Luckily, you arrived in the nick of time and managed to upset his aim."

The fat man rushed over to them. "Thank you, Batman," he gasped, in obvious relief. "How can we ever thank you?"

The Costumed Crime-fighter smiled at him, from beneath his cowl. "No need to thank me sir! I am just another citizen of our fair city, doing his civic duty! Are you both alright?"

The man nodded. "Yes, thanks to you and the Boy Wonder, here! I'm must reward you both, somehow."

Batman held up a gauntleted right hand. "No need, sir, but if you insist on showing your appreciation, then please give generously to the Gotham City Police Benevolent Fund. Our gallant Boys in Blue need all the help they can get!"

The man nodded, then hurried back to his trembling wife, who looked about ready to collapse. It had all been too much for her.

Robin stooped to gather up the handgun.

"Brand new!" he commented, turning the weapon over in his gloved hands. "There seems to have been a huge surge in armed robberies, over the last couple of weeks, Batman!"

"Yes," agreed the Caped Crusader, "and I don't think it's merely a coincidence that the increase seems to have occurred since the GCPD armory was broken into! The sooner we track down those missing weapons, Robin, the better!"

He took out his Bat-phone and called the GCPD, to request that they send someone out to collect some street trash, giving their current location.

Wednesday, 1:17 am

The ravishing red haired beauty unzipped the little black dress and shrugged it from her shoulders, before pushing it down off her shapely hips and stepping out of it. She had already kicked off her heels, glad to be home at last. Placing her hands on her hips, she gazed at the reflection in the dresser mirror. The image before her, was clad in just a clinging pair of red thong panties and black, lace topped hold-ups. There was just a hint of a bruise on her left cheek, where the cop had slapped her, and her makeup looked a real mess.

"Heaven only knows what that cab driver must've thought?" she mused, gently stroking the bruised area.

She sighed and, bending over, picked up the fallen dress, walked over to the closet and neatly hung it up. Then, sitting on the side of the bed, she carefully rolled off her sheer stockings and tucked them in a dresser drawer, before thumbing down her remaining item of underwear and stepping out of it. After dropping the skimpy red thong into the used laundry basket, she half-turned, to examine the reflection of her naked left buttock, where a dark bruise had already started to form, from its heavy impact with the floor, when she'd landed on her butt, earlier.

"I shall get my own back," Barbara muttered, darkly, before going to the bathroom and taking a tube of antiseptic ointment out of the medicine cabinet. She then gently massaged some of the cream into the effected area of her pert derrière.

Barbara had nominally arranged to meet Officer Thackeray, the following lunchtime, when she would have some serious explaining to do to the ruggedly handsome policeman. Still, once he had discovered her true identity, he seemed to have mellowed significantly. Officer Thackeray had promised to contact her at work, the following day, to arrange the actual rendezvous.

"Perhaps I can enlist his aid in my investigation?" she mused, aloud. The thought seemed to cheer her up, strangely, and she felt a thrill of anticipation. She would certainly NOT be revealing the fact that she was also Batgirl, scourge of the Gotham City underworld.

With a loud sigh, she pulled back the bed sheet and slipped her long, lithe body beneath it. Barbara usually slept in the nude and tonight would be no exception. It had certainly proved to be a long and eventful day.

Wednesday, 9:57 am

"Commissioner Gordon's office, his secretary speaking! How may I help you?" It was a little before ten o'clock, the following morning and Bonnie had just been thinking about fetching herself a nice hot cup of coffee from the vending machine along the hallway.

"Hi, Bonnie, this is Barbara! Is daddy around?" said a familiar cheerful, female voice on the other end of the call.

"Oh, hello Ms. Gordon," the long-serving secretary replied, her face lighting up. "I'm afraid your father is tied up in an important meeting, over in the Mayor's Parlor. He won't be free before early afternoon, I'm afraid."

"How frustrating! Er, perhaps you could help me, Bonnie dear?"

"If I can, Ms. Gordon? What appears to be the problem?"

"I'm trying to find out a little background information on one of your uniformed police officers... for a friend of mine. Nothing of a restricted or private nature, you understand, just a general character reference."

Barbara chuckled. "We wouldn't want her getting mixed up with the wrong sort, now would we?"

Bonnie smiled. "I think I could manage that for you, dear. What's his name?"

"Phil Thackeray; six feet two, blonde hair, blue eyes, with a cute..."

"Er, yes, I get the picture," Bonnie replied, scrawling the officer's name on her notepad. "Could you give me half-an-hour or so, while I pop down to central records, then I'll ring you back. I take it that you're phoning from the library?"

"Yes that's right!"

"I'll get back to you as soon as possible. 'Bye Barbara, dear!"

"'Bye Bonnie... and thanks!"

-oOo-

Is this the start of a new romance for the Dark Damsel?

Will Batman's concerns about the rising gun crime in Gotham, be realized?

For the answers to these and other intriguing questions you might have, dear reader, tune in for the next exciting chapter of 'Batgirl: Sex Bomb', coming soon to these web pages!