Batgirl: The Vampyre Caper Ch. 05

This story is the seventh in an ongoing series of Batgirl adventures, mainly based on characters in the early Batman comics and that wonderful '60s TV series but with the timeline brought up to the present.

Warning! This fictional story contains strictly ADULT content and is ONLY intended for mature readers and for personal consumption. No copyright infringement is intended.

The Adventures Of Batgirl

Batgirl: The Vampyre Caper

Chapter 5: Power Dressing

"I'm worried about Barbara, Alfred," Bruce Wayne announced, as he sat down at the breakfast table the next morning and the manservant placed a plate of ham and scrambled eggs in front of him, together with a rack of warm toast.

"Oh yes, sir?" replied his faithful old retainer, with a frown of concern, pausing as he was about to turn away and go pour his employer a cup of freshly percolated coffee. Alfred Pennyworth had been looking after Bruce ever since the multi-millionaire had been tragically orphaned as a young boy and was regarded as a member of the family rather than merely as an employee.

Bruce finished tucking the napkin into the collar of his crisp white shirt, before replying. "Yes, Alfred. She's started to suffer from short periods of amnesia, which always seem to coincide with the appearance of this vampire creature. Also, she's taken to wearing this new, ultra revealing Batcostume, whilst on vigilante patrol. It's almost as if she's deliberately trying to encourage some sexually frustrated young miscreant into attacking her and taking advantage of her."

Alfred shook his head, vehemently. "I'm sure that isn't the case, Mr. Wayne. Ms. Gordon is a properly brought up young lady. It's probably just some passing fad, influenced by those skimpily clad young pop divas who regularly appear in those videos they show on the music channels on cable TV."

The multi-millionaire businessman raised an enquiring eyebrow. "What brings you watching scantily attired young women on MTV and other music channels, Alfred?" he enquired, giving the old retainer a disapproving look.

The white-haired butler went bright red with embarrassment. "I, er, I try to keep up-to-date with all the latest trends in popular music and fashion, sir," he protested. "One doesn't want to be accused of being out of touch, does one?"

"Hmm?" Bruce didn't sound entirely convinced by this explanation

"Perhaps you should have a quiet word with the young lady, sir?" Alfred offered. "I'm sure you can convince her that a more modest attire would be eminently more suitable for her costumed crime-fighting exploits."

Bruce scooped up a forkful of scrambled egg and masticated it, thoughtfully, before replying. "Perhaps you're right, old friend," he mused, aloud. "Perhaps I should point out the obvious impracticalities of such an outfit. That girl is far too naïve for her own good."

"Will Master Dick be down for breakfast, shortly?" enquired the butler, changing the subject. He was referring to Dick Grayson, Bruce's youthful charge, who also happened to be Batman's masked sidekick, Robin.

"Er, no, not this morning, Alfred. I believe he's having a lie in. Young Mr. Grayson had a very late night. After we completed our evening patrol, he went on to some nightclub in town, where he was meeting up with his girlfriend, Jennifer Goodbody."

-oOo-

"Victims number three and four of the vampire killer turned up last night, Chief," the Commissioner of Police revealed to his number 2, a grave expression on his face, as soon as O'Hara had sat down facing him on the other side of his desk.

The uniformed officer's eyes widened and he sat up straight in his chair. "Bejabers, Commissioner!" he exclaimed. "Was the modus operandi the same as before?" His Irish brogue always became more pronounced whenever he grew excited.

Jim Gordon smiled, grimly, as he nodded his confirmation. "The same as the last time but a man AND a woman. Both victims were drained of blood and had deep fang marks in their necks. The corpses were discovered by Batgirl, while out on patrol last night, but it was the Caped Crusader who actually phoned it in."

"So, vampires DO exist," exclaimed the wide-eyed Irishman, leaning forward with a look of morbid fascination on his florid features.

"Batman thinks that, if the killer IS human, then it is more likely to be a person suffering from haematodipsia, a sexual thirst for human blood," corrected the Commissioner. "If so, the killer has obviously developed some sort of 'blood fetish'. He may also be a practitioner of necrophilia, but we have, as yet, been unable to confirm whether sexual intercourse occurred just before, during or just after death."

"Bejazus!" The Police Chief's bushy eyebrows nearly shot off the top of his forehead.

"Death occurred due to heart failure, brought on by lack of blood. The victims literally had their life sucked out of them, Chief."

"We must catch this homicidal maniac before the news gets out, Commissioner, or we will end up with a city-wide panic on our hands."

"I am well aware of that, Chief," Gordon retorted, a little peevishly. "I have already taken the precaution of canceling all police leave and doubling the number of officers on night patrol, from this evening onward. They will be on the lookout for someone acting strangely, probably having sharp, protruding teeth. The Caped Crusaders have also agreed to commit all of their considerable crime prevention resources to the task of tracking down the killer."

-oOo-

Barbara finally drove into the library underground parking lot and parked up the Mercedes, some three hours after her normal arrival time. This was due to a couple of detours she'd made, on her way to work that morning. First, she had visited her favorite hairdressing salon for a cut and restyle, and then she had popped into a local shopping mall, to purchase a completely new outfit for work, which she was now wearing.

She stepped into the small private elevator and rode up to the second floor. As she stepped out into the hallway, she glanced at her wristwatch and took a deep breath. She drew back her shoulders, thrust out her chest and firmly pushed open the door marked 'PRIVATE -- STAFF ONLY'. Luckily, Mr. Peabody, the Head Librarian and her immediate superior, was on a week's vacation and had left Barbara in charge. As a consequence, his office, situated just beyond the doorway, was closed and in darkness.

As Barbara strode, purposely through the open-plan admin area, heading for her own office, her newly purchased platform soled, five-inch Manolo Blahnik stilettos, click-clacked, noisily, on the wooden flooring and the daring mid-thigh length skirt of her tailored navy-blue business suit, swished, sexily against her dark, nylon-encased thighs. The unbuttoned jacket of her worsted business suit was worn over a crisp white silk blouse, with a blue and white-striped ladies silk bow tie about her throat, hiding her snug-fitting choker from view. Her glorious red hair was freshly cut in a stylish bob, which bounced with each long graceful stride.

Her fellow workers all stopped what they were doing and stared at the new arrival in open-mouthed astonishment. Not only was it unheard of for the Assistant Chief Librarian to arrive late for work, but this was Barbara Gordon as they had never seen her before! This was power dressing at its stylish best, with killer makeup to match. Most of them had always regarded the redhead as a pleasant but deadly dull senor employee, with no interest whatsoever in the exciting world of fashion or glamour. Those people were forced to rapidly revised their former opinions.

Someone gave out with a long low wolf whistle and Barbara paused and half turned toward her audience, as if acknowledging their presence for the first time. She slid the bridge of her spectacles to the end of her nose, griping the corner of the frames between forefinger and thumb, as she peered over the top at her attentive fellow employees.

"Thank you, whoever that was," she said, her scarlet painted lips forming a warm smile. "It was much appreciated, although in some people's eyes, such an act may be regarded as a form of sexual harassment. Not by myself, I hasten to add. Now, could you all please get back to whatever you were doing before I walked in here. I didn't mean to cause such a stir." With that, she turned and continued on her way. All eyes were glued to her swaying, tightly encased derriere.

No sooner had Barbara disappeared into her office, than a buzz of excited conversation broke out amongst her co-workers.

"Wow! Did you see that?"

"Yes, I could hardly believe my eyes."

"Ms. Gordon looked absolutely stunning!"

"I never realized it before, but Barbara has a face and figure to die for," sighed a young brunette named Sue, a fairly recent addition to the library personnel. "How come she's never flaunted them before?"

No one could come up with a worthwhile explanation.

-oOo-

Jennifer Goodbody had missed all the excitement. She'd been searching for a manuscript amongst the archival material in the basement, at the time, but her fellow workers quickly brought her up to speed, when she eventually returned to her desk.

"She looked absolutely incredible, Jen," gasped Heidi, the girl sitting at the desk next to her own. "Ms. Gordon's had a complete make-over. I could hardly recognize her."

Jenny could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Barbara had always gone to exceptional lengths to dress conservatively for work, determined not to draw any unwanted attention to her bland everyday persona.

"This I've got to see for myself," she informed Heidi, determinedly, rising from her chair and picking up the manuscript, before making straight for Barbara's office.

Jennifer politely tapped on the windowpane of the closed office door.

Barbara looked up from her powder compact. She had just been checking her makeup in the small mirror. "Come on in, Jen!" she called, waving the blonde in, from her seated position behind her desk.

Jenny walked in and turned and closed the door behind her. "I've got that research manuscript that you want..." she began, as she turned back to face her superior. "Good grief, Barbara!"

Barbara smiled up at her blue-eyed research assistant. "Is something the matter, dear?" she enquired, slipping off her glasses before rotating her chair to face the slim blonde.

"You! You look absolutely amazing, Barbara."

"Yes I do, don't I?" the redhead acknowledged, with a conceited smirk on her crimson painted lips.

"But I thought you told me that you always tried to blend into the background, in your everyday existence, to avoid attracting any unwanted attention. In that outfit, you stand out like... well, like a nudist in an Eskimo colony."

"Well, I've had a change of heart, Jen. Dressing like this makes me feel powerful and sexy. Why should Batgirl get all the kicks?"

Jenny groaned under her breath. "What if someone spots that the new glamour puss Assistant Chief Librarian and the sexy Batgirl, are actually one and the same person? It would almost certainly bring the curtain down on your crime-fighting career."

Barbara shrugged her shoulders, her obviously braless breasts jiggling, fetchingly, beneath her expensive silk shirt. "I'm willing to take that chance," she replied, offhandedly.

Jennifer groaned again and rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. Moments later, she spotted a slight bulge beneath the skirt, where it was tightly stretched over the top of Barbara's thigh. "Are you wearing a garter belt underneath that skirt?" she gasped, experiencing a sudden thrill of arousal.

"Uh, huh! Want to see?"

Jenny blinked like a startled deer caught in a car's headlights, late at night. She licked her suddenly dry lips, before giving a barely perceptible nod. "Yeah, okay."

Barbara smiled. "I thought you might. Pull the blind down on the door pane first, there's a dear. Better lock the door, while you're at it," the redhead added, almost as an afterthought.

Jennifer hurried to comply and when she turned around, Barbara had already risen to her feet and hiked her skirt up about her trim waist. She was deliberately standing with her legs parted.

"Barbara," Jen gasped, her eyes bulging, "you're not..."

"Not wearing any panties," Barbara finished for her, with a impish grin. "Yeah. Sexy, or what?"

Jenny stared at the lacy black garter belt that clung to Barbara's hips. Narrow garter straps were attached to the tops of her stockings, giving additional support to her dark hold-ups. The two front straps framed the smooth, hairless mons of the redhead, providing a delicious contrast to her pale delicate skin. Jennifer swallowed hard and nodded her agreement.

Jennifer felt her panties growing wet with arousal, but she managed to shake herself out of her trance-like state. "Put it away, you idiot!" she hissed, in wide-eyed alarm. "Someone might come along and try the door, at any moment. If they discover what we've been up to, then we could both end up out on our ear, looking for another job."

Barbara chuckled but obediently tugged her short skirt down to hide her charms, suitably chastised. "For the first time in my life, I feel like a completely liberated woman, Jen," she explained, with a long, contented sigh.

-oOo-

Later that morning, while no one was about, Jennifer put through a call to Wayne Manor.

Alfred, the old family butler, finally answered the ringing telephone. "Wayne Manor, Alfred Pennyworth speaking," he announced in that cultivated but slightly pompous British accent of his. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Alfred, it's Jenny," she whispered into the mouthpiece, "is Mr. Wayne around?"

The butler was well aware that Jennifer Goodbody was also Sparrow, the most recent addition to Gotham's caped crime-busters.

"Hello, Ms. Jenny," he greeted, warmly. "I believe that Mr. Wayne is in the, ah, the basement area. Shall I transfer your call down there?"

"Yes please, Alfred."

After a few moments wait, the multi-millionaire came on the line. "Hello, this is Bruce Wayne speaking. To whom am I speaking?"

"Bruce, it's Jenny."

"Oh, hello, Jennifer. What can I do for you, dear?"

"Is this a secure line?"

"Of course."

"I'm worried about Barbara, Bruce. She's been acting very strangely."

"You've noticed that too. I must admit that the new costume of Batgirl's is... well, to be perfectly honest Jen, it's positively embarrassing. You can see just about everything she's got and if it wasn't for that... that thong, I would've been forced into making a citizen's arrest, what with her lewdly displaying her body in public like that."

"She's up to some similar tricks over here at the library, Bruce. Barbara arrived this morning, in a whole new sexy business suit, minus a couple of key items of underwear."

"WHAT?"

"I'm not kidding, Bruce! The way she's acting, some observant person's going to put two and two together and come to the conclusion that Batgirl and Barbara Gordon are one and the same person."

"Hmm, that could prove disastrous. Ask her to pop over to my place after work and I shall try to talk some sense into the young woman."

"Would you Bruce? Thank you, I will be truly grateful. Barbara's always looked upon you as a sort of alternate father figure."

Bruce snorted, indignantly. "Don't go telling her father that. Now, there's something you can do for me, Jennifer," he added, seriously.

Jenny giggled. "Aren't I a bit too young and inexperienced, for Gotham's most eligible bachelor's tastes?" she pointed out, coyly.

Bruce ignored the sexual innuendo. "Talk Barbara into making an appointment with her doctor for a thorough medical examination. I'm worried about these bouts of amnesia that she's been having lately."

Jenny became serious. "I'll do my best, Bruce," she promised, soberly. "By the way, did you know she's also been having nightmares over the last couple of nights?"

"No, no I didn't," Bruce said, in a worried tone. "That makes it even more essential that she sees a doctor."

With that Jenny said goodbye and hastily ended the call. She had just spotted Heidi approaching her desk. Her workmate was just returning from a visit to the Ladies Room.

-oOo-

Barbara pulled the Mercedes over to the curb and parked it out front of the sprawling brownstone building with its neatly manicured stretch of front lawn and its colorful borders of well-maintained flowerbeds. She switched off the engine and sat there, gripping the steering wheel, debating with herself, whether to go in or not. She'd driven there straight from the library after finishing work. Barbara had been bullied and cajoled by Jenny, into making an appointment, over the phone, with her family medical practitioner, Dr. Macintyre, earlier that afternoon. Luckily, the good doctor had agreed to see her after normal consulting hours, that very same day.

She was still dubious about the need for such a visit, but Jennifer had insisted, saying that her recent lapses of memory and her vivid nightmares, were both good reasons for her to have a thorough medical checkup. Barbara sighed and, opening the automobile door, slid out of the driver's seat. This caused her short skirt to ride up and reveal a tantalizing glimpse of dark, patterned stocking tops.

She smoothed down the skirt of her business suit, locked the car with her electronic key fob and dropped the bunch of keys into her purse. She then turned and purposefully strode up to the front door, her high heels clicking on the short length of paved pathway.

Pushing open the door, Barbara entered the combined reception and waiting area, and walked over to the woman sitting behind a desk. She smiled down at the bespectacled young woman, who was wearing her long brown hair tied back in a neat ponytail.

"Good afternoon, my name is Barbara Gordon," she explained. "I believe Doctor Macintyre is expecting me? I have a five-thirty appointment."

The receptionist smiled back. "Ah, yes, Ms. Gordon, we were expecting you. I'll just check that the doctor is free." She picked up the internal phone and pressed a button. "Ms. Gordon is here for her five-thirty appointment, doctor." She listened for a moment. "Very well, sir." She replaced the receiver and looked up. "Dr. Macintyre will see you shortly. Please take a seat, Ms. Gordon."

"Thank you."

Barbara sat down on one of the uncomfortable-looking waiting room chairs and crossed one long lithe leg over the other, causing her short skirt to ride up even further. She heard a subdued "Tut, tut!" from the direction of the receptionist and an amused smile touched her lips.

"If she knew I wasn't wearing any panties, she'd probably have a panic attack," the redhead thought, stifling a giggle with the back of her hand.

A minute or so later, the doctor popped his head out of the door of his combined office and examination room and looked over at her. "You may come through now, Barbara," he announced with a welcoming smile, before turning to the receptionist. "You can go now, Lisa. I'll look after Ms. Gordon and lock up when we're finished. See you in the morning."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," the girl replied, standing and slipping on her coat. "Goodnight, both!"

"Goodnight!" Barbara replied.

The doctor ushered Barbara through into his office and closed the door behind them. John Macintyre was in his early-fifties, a well built five-feet nine-inches in height. He was black-haired with just a touch of grey at the sides of his temples. He had been the Gordon's family doctor for almost twenty years.

"How is your father, Barbara?" he enquired, conversationally, as he ushered her over to a seat in front of his desk, with a wave of his hand.

"Pretty much the same as usual, Doctor," she replied with a resigned smile. "Working far too hard and doing his stomach ulcer no good at all."