Birds of a Feather

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+

*****

"Damn," the colorfully garbed crimefighter said under his breath as he spotted a solitary figure walking along the edge of Kane Reservoir. "How is it that no matter how hard you try to get the message out, there's always someone who doesn't get it? Or worse, just assumes that it applies to everyone but them?"

The message, in this case, was that there was a homicidal maniac running loose on the streets of Gotham. Or more specifically, the woods of Middletown Park and that it wasn't safe to be out alone there after dark. Not only was it well after dark, to the tune of an hour after midnight, but the young woman in the scope of his binoculars was about as alone and oblivious to her surroundings as she could be.

"She's actually wearing a Walkman," the hero in red, green and golden yellow said as he adjusted his focus. "How stupid can one person be?"

This was the third night a small army of police had spent patrolling the hundred and fifty-year-old park, certain that the killer would try and strike again before the passing of the new moon. Three young women had died during the last such phase, two more under this one, the last being an undercover police officer. With eight hundred and forty-three acres of park land in the urban oasis, it was impossible to check behind every tree and rock. The best they could do was seal off the park and hope that one of the legion in blue might get lucky.

Including the hero in the search for this lunatic wasn't something that Harvey Bullock, the detective heading the task force, had been enthusiastic about. In the end, however, he'd been overruled by the Commissioner's office. The loss of his decoy officer the night before hit him hard. The last thing he wanted to deal with was some glory-grabbing vigilante. Officer Ricardo had only been out of the sight of her partner for a few moments, but that short span had been enough for the butcher to turn a beautiful, vibrant young woman into a mass of bloody meat that caused even the most veteran officer to become ill.

"How can Bullock expect to find this madman if he can't even keep people out of the area?" the dark haired adventurer pondered as he realized that he'd have to give up his surveillance and get that girl out of here for her own safety.

As Robin lowered his high-powered night glasses, his well-disciplined mind automatically filed away all the details he'd noticed during his brief observation. She was quite pretty, he thought, bordering on being a natural beauty.

She was about his height, five nine or ten, and somewhere in the vicinity of a hundred and twenty pounds. A well-developed athletic build made him suspect she played sports or spent part of her week at the gym. He also couldn't help but note that she was also quite braless. Long black hair stretched down her back, reaching past a tight fitting yellow blouse to a blue skirt shorter than most women would have the nerve to wear.

"Nice legs," he added to his evaluation as he dropped his lenses back into his utility belt and reached for the silken cord he had previously positioned to facilitate a quick exit from his perch. "Why can't I meet a girl like that when I'm not wearing the mask?"

Leaping into the night air, he heard the voice of his absent mentor reminding him that this was hardly the time to be worrying about his social life. Or the fact that the mask, and the life that went with it, were usually a major impediment in that direction. Still, there had been a few times when the reverse had also been true. The memories of those times couldn't help but flash through his mind for the few seconds it took for him to drop to the ground.

Images which, pleasant as they might have been, instantly faded as his feet hit the ground and his thoughts returned to the task at hand. A task that, in a further blink of an eye, shifted from mere annoyance to abject horror.

"Oh God, no!" the nineteen-year-old gasped as he saw a tall, shadowy form appear, seemingly out of nowhere, less than thirty feet behind the girl. A figure that he would bet all that he owned had not been there two seconds before. That determination became academic as mask-covered eyes spotted a large knife sparkling in the moonlight.

Robin's heart pounded as he surged forward, running as fast as his well-developed legs could carry him. Automatically he calculated his rate of advancement against the shrinking distance between the girl and the knife. Even before he was halfway there, he already knew the race was one he couldn't win.

"Stop!" Robin yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping that the outburst might gain him the few precious seconds he needed.

The dark killer didn't even pause. The sounds of music in her headphones, audible even at this distance, made his intended victim ignorant of death's approach behind her. Unaware, that was, until a massive hand grabbed her shoulder and spun the dark haired woman around. A look of surprise, then terror filled her face as she recognized the grim reaper in the form of a razor-edged blade reaching for her.

"No!!" Robin screamed as he helplessly watched the knife slash across her chest, ripping apart her blouse and the flesh beneath it.

She was still falling to the ground when Robin slammed into her killer, bringing to bear all the power of his muscled hundred and seventy-five pound form. An impact that had absolutely no effect on the still shadow-shrouded figure, except to cause him to casually swing his empty hand outward with such force as to knock the Teen Wonder ten feet back. Robin's body hit the ground hard, the impact almost enough to knock him out. Only a determined strength of will and the certainty that, if he lost consciousness now, he would never regain it, kept him going.

Dismissing the battered hero, the killer turned his attention back to his grisly task. Ignoring the ringing in his head, Robin forced himself to his feet, drawing a batarang and a handful of glass pellets from his belt as he moved. There was still a chance that he could save the girl if he could get her to medical attention. A slim chance, but one he had to take no matter the risk.

"This guy can't be human," Robin thought as he again rushed forward to the attack. It was a theory that he'd considered several times in the last few hours as he waited, keeping in mind that the police had failed to track the murderer down, despite their overwhelming numerical superiority.

With the certain knowledge that he himself might be dead in a minute, Robin reached back to let loose with the mixture of gas and explosive projectiles in his hand. Halfway into the throw, the impossible happened. A sequence of events so unexpected, that for the first time since he'd put on the mask, the hero totally froze.

If the man who'd tossed him like a rag doll wasn't human, then that assessment had to now also apply to his intended victim. It was the killer's turn to exhibit a visage of fear as, rather than having her life's blood spilling out on the dirt covered ground, the dark haired girl leapt to her feet and grabbed her attacker by the throat. Her movements flowed with a speed almost too fast to be seen.

Then, in a further display of vitality and strength, she lifted him off the ground and held him, one handed, high in the air. A sight so unbelievable as to cause the crimefighter to be totally oblivious to the display of bare breasts that had been exposed by the slash of the knife now lying on the grass. At least not beyond the fact that while her blouse might be ripped clear across, the supple flesh beneath it was totally unmarked.

"Please...don't...hurt...me..." the now not-so invincible slasher gasped in slow, pain filled words.

"Don't hurt you?" the girl said in disbelief as she flexed the fingers of her hand, applying just a little more pressure to her grip. "You butchered all of those poor girls and you have the nerve to ask for mercy? If justice had any meaning, I'd rip your head off right now and save the mockery of a trial."

That argument, was one that Robin remembered having with his mentor many times over the years. If there was one thing Batman was passionate about above all else, it was his personal concept of justice. The law, or what those in high-priced suits said was the law these days, was sometimes a secondary consideration. Still, in all the years since Bruce Wayne had put on cape and cowl, he had never gone over the line and taken a human, or inhuman, life. Not even in those cases where it could easily have been argued society as a whole would be much better off if he had. Robin had followed that belief, but found himself wondering if he had just met someone who didn't.

"But, my cousin constantly tells me that it's not my place to play judge, jury and executioner, no matter the temptation," she said as she relaxed her grip and let him fall, gasping onto the dirt.

Taking a few steps closer, Robin now got his first good look at the New Moon Slasher, as the newspapers had christened him. He was almost so totally ordinary as to be improbable as the man who'd put an entire city on the edge of fear. That he was a meta-human was pretty much a certainty, but whatever drove him to use his paranormal abilities to kill was something for the psychologists to figure out.

"I'm not sure these will hold him," Robin said as he produced a pair of cuffs from his utility belt, remembering the strength of the blow that had almost laid him low.

Without saying a word, the tall young woman glanced around the area and spotted a small pile of building supplies. Stepping over to them, she returned with a thin metal pole about six feet long. To Robin's amazement, but no longer his disbelief, she snapped it in two and twisted one piece into a set of restraints about the Slasher's wrists, and then the other around his ankles. He wasn't going anywhere.

The sound of fast approaching sirens broke the stillness of the night, reminding Robin that he had hit the emergency button on his belt radio, sending a signal to the task force when he had first spotted the killer. The GCPD would be here in another minute or two to take him into custody. Be it to jail or a mental hospital was something for the law to decide.

"You might want to change," Robin suggested as, with a noncommittal look, he referred to the current state of her blouse. "If you don't have something else to put on, I'd be glad to lend you my cape."

"Thank you," she replied, with a smile that seemed to light up the dark night, "but I have something else to change into."

Picking up the small knapsack she had dropped when the slasher had grabbed her, the dark haired woman stepped over to the tool shed where she had gotten the metal pole and disappeared behind it. The thought that she was now totally nude occupied Robin's attention for the next minute until a trio of police cars pulled up behind him.

"Congratulations, Robin," Harvey Bullock said as his men quickly lifted up their suspect and ushered him off to a waiting police wagon. "I'm going to be totally honest and say I never imagined you had a chance in hell of actually getting him."

"I'm sorry to say," the teenager said to the portly, unshaven detective, "that I'm not the one that got him. It seems that I wasn't the only one with an interest in this case."

"Then who...?" the Detective started to ask.

"Someone a lot stronger than me," the Teen Wonder interrupted. "Unless you think I've suddenly taken to bending steel bars in my bare hands," he added in reference to the improvised restraints on their killer.

Before the perplexed Detective could ask a further question, the subject of their discussion reappeared from behind the tool shed. Her appearance answered all of their questions, and Robin felt like an ass for not realizing it before.

Long straight blonde hair now replaced the black, flowing across a bright red cape. A tight form fitting blue top replaced that tattered yellow that she had gone to replace, along with a red skirt and matching red boots. Resting across the breasts that Robin had gotten a quick look at earlier, sat an irregular red and yellow pentagon with a stylized "S" in it.

"Supergirl!" both men said almost in unison.

"I think you'll need this, officer," the Girl of Steel said as she carefully picked up the murder's weapon from where it had fallen in the grass and handed it to the officer.

"Thank you," he replied as he just as carefully produced an evidence bag and dropped the knife in it.

"I'm only sorry that I hadn't heard about this before this morning," Supergirl said, belittling the Mayor's Office's initial reluctance to publicize a possible serial killer. "All of those girls that he killed."

"Well, we...err..." Bullock replied, knowing that he had nothing with which to respond, especially since he hadn't agreed with the political decision either.

"I guess I'd better get going then," Supergirl said, knowing that if she stayed she might very well say something not quite consistent with the public image that her cousin, Superman, had worked to create for her.

"We're going to need some kind of report downtown," the Detective said, falling back on proper police procedure to hide his discomfort. "For when they bring him before the judge in the morning."

Supergirl gave him a hard look, one that Robin recognized as asking, did he actually think this murdering bastard was ever even going to come to trial?

"I'll take care of that," Robin said, thinking that he was certainly more used to filling out forms than someone who regularly changed the course of mighty rivers, as the old saying went.

"Well then," Bullock concluded, "I'll meet you back at headquarters." he said to Robin, after which Bullock expressed how honored he was to meet Supergirl.

Both costumed heroes waited until Bullock got in his car and drove away before saying anything. Robin took the time to really take a good look at Supergirl, and would've been astonished to know that she was doing the same.

If he had thought she was good looking as a brunette, his conclusion jumped to absolutely stunning as a blonde. A body that would seem more suited for a gymnast or runner concealed the fact that she could juggle two-ton boulders. Looking back at him were the deepest blue eyes he had ever imagined. Despite the circle of larger than life figures with whom he sometimes had the opportunity to travel, Robin suddenly felt like a high school nerd trying to impress the head cheerleader.

Supergirl took a moment to take in the young man who had rushed to her aid. Lacking her own invulnerability, she thought, that took real courage, especially after having been tossed for a loop by the meta-human strength of the slasher. The Maid of Might couldn't help but be impressed. He was a few years younger than her, and pretty cute, she decided, behind that mask. Not a bad body either, she added, even if the yellow cape, red tunic and green undershirt, briefs and boots seemed more suited for a young teenager than a full grown man.

"I hope you didn't get hurt when he hit you?" Supergirl asked, her concern genuine.

"Nah, just a few bumps and bruises," Robin said as he tried to smile. "It takes more than a little knock on the head to put me out."

"Well, no concussion at least," Supergirl said a moment later as a strange look filled her eyes.

"What?" Robin replied, having seen the distant stare, then realized, "Oh yeah, X-ray vision."

"That took real courage," the Girl of Steel complimented, "If I didn't have my powers, I don't know if I could do something like that."

"But you're Supergirl, you save the world."

"Sometimes, saving the world isn't as important as saving a single life," Supergirl said.

The realization that the moment was past and it was time to say goodbye gave Robin a sudden courage of another kind. Before Supergirl could leave, he asked her one more thing.

"You think that maybe, if you find yourself on this side of the country again, we might go for coffee or something?" he asked, feeling he sounded like an idiot the moment he'd let the words out.

Supergirl paused for a moment, then said, "Sure, why not."

With that, she lifted herself into the air, pivoting as she rose until she was hovering a few dozen feet above the Teen Wonder.

"By the way, nice legs." She smiled before again turning in mid-air and speeding off into the distance.

Watching her fade away in the darkness, Robin realized that it hadn't been his legs that had such a strong, visible reaction to the Kryptonian. A reaction that, even partially concealed by the protective cup in his shorts, was one that she couldn't have helped take notice of. Thankfully it hadn't been the one she commented on.

Even so, it was a good half-hour before his motorcycle followed the road back out to the city streets.

-=-=-=-

"Eat lead and die, Bird Boy!" Boss Tripper, the leader of the car theft ring called out as he opened fire with his machine pistol, sending a stream of deadly projectiles across the chop shop.

With reflexes well befitting the son of the Flying Graysons, Robin dropped to the floor, out of harm's way. Two of the shooter's henchmen weren't so lucky, however, and went down in the hail of bullets. Loyalty among thieves was indeed a fallacy.

"And how did you spend the summer vacation, Dick?" the Teen Wonder imagined one of his classmates asking upon his return to the Hudson U campus come the Fall, even as he took advantage of the ring leader's lack of fire discipline and bolted for better cover while Tripper changed the gun's now empty magazine.

School was indeed out for the summer, and while many of his classmates imagined the ward of a billionaire traveling the world on his vacation, Dick Grayson had instead returned to the streets of Gotham to assist Batman in the never-ending fight to keep those streets safe. And that included detouring from his trip to Police HQ to the sounds of gunshots, to find another police raid in progress. A raid he had decided to lend a hand to as well.

Robin reached the safety of a steel column just as Boss Tripper opened fire again. Bullets ricocheted all about him as he reached into his utility belt for a small but powerful smoke pellet to cover his next move. The glass capsule exploded into a dozen pieces against the car Tripper was using as cover, filling the air with a dense cloud of darkness.

Following the layout of the garage he had already memorized with a glance, Robin raced toward Tripper. He leapt up onto the hood of another car and bounded up into the air, grabbing an overhanging chain-link winch. From there it was an easy swing up on to the second floor railing that led to the gang leader's office and observation post.

The cloud of smoke quickly dissipated, and Tripper strained his eyes trying to spot the Teen Wonder through it. He followed his gaze with an outstretched gun hand, his finger resting on the trigger in case he should spot the yellow caped hero. A flapping motion of yellow cloth to his right caught his attention and he pulled the trigger, sending an arc of rapid death in that direction.

The burst of gunfire echoed off the walls, until it faded away to be replaced with silence. The last vestiges of smoke also dissolved, giving him a good look at what he'd hit. Weapon still in hand, Tripper stepped out into the open.