Cape and Cowl

A fiery rage flushed though her body as she stormed into the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind as she stood under the rushing water, washing away the grime of the day's adventure. The central theme of her train of thought was that someone had tried to kill her today - now what was she going to do about it.

Quickly drying herself once out of the shower, she concluded that there was little that Congresswoman Gordon could do. A much older one - one a great deal more dynamic however, was quickly replacing that aspect of her personality.

"I guess I wasn't making as much of a difference as I thought." the naked beauty thought as she stepped into the bedroom, realizing that she had already made her decision.

Moving to the red brick wall that the builders had left when they remodeled the old building, Barbara reached up and pressed the center brick on the top row. Silent servos came to life as the brick wall separated in two, forming an entranceway to a concealed room beyond.

When she had first made the decision to relocate to Washington, Bruce Wayne had offered her this apartment in one of the buildings owned by Wayne Enterprises. He had explained about the hidden room and how she could use it to hide that which she wanted to keep away from prying eyes. At the time, she'd laughed at the idea that she would drag her past along with her as she set out on what she termed a great adventure. Still, to humor Bruce, she had allowed him to set up the room in case she ever needed it. Now it seemed that Bruce had known her better than she knew herself.

Not that she found that thought very surprising as she stepped into the inner chamber and the entrance closed behind her. People had been underestimating Bruce Wayne for twenty years. To the world at large, he alternated between the image of a playboy and the head of one of world's leading industrial giants. What few had ever saw, because he didn't wish them to see, was that beneath those dual guises he wore another mantle. The mantle of the bat. Bruce Wayne, was the scourge of Gotham's underworld known as The Batman.

As the lights of the small antechamber grew to life, the paraphernalia around her gave testament to the fact that like Bruce, Barbara had also worn the mantle of the bat. For the last few years, Barbara Gordon had been Batgirl.

The room around her was almost an exact duplicate of the one she had designed herself in her original apartment back home. Bruce was good for that, recreating familiar surroundings. He'd even had the main rooms of his family's suburban estate recreated on the top floors of the Wayne Tower when he shifted his operations to downtown Gotham.

A small dresser contained a collection of plain white sports bras and panties. Barbara had never really checked before but discovered that both were exactly her size. That was another thing that Bruce was really good at estimating.

As she put them on, Barbara slightly regretted that she never really took the time to find out what else Bruce was really good at. Of course that was the state of arousal talking she knew. There was no way she could've had an affair with Bruce Wayne. Not after she'd already had a somewhat brief one with the junior partner of the Dynamic Duo - Robin.

Adjusting the straps of her bra, Barbara remembered how nice it had felt to have the younger man in her bed those many mornings after they'd gone on patrol together. It was a pity that the relationship had faded after he left for college.

"Time to put all those thoughts behind you." a little voice reminded her as she shifted into what she used to call "combat mode."

With a practice that came back so naturally, Barbara quickly donned the purple and gold costume she had made what now seemed a lifetime ago. Of course this wasn't the same one she had worn on her first night as Batgirl. Batman had long ago replaced that uniform with one that incorporated the very latest in lightweight body armor.

The soft feel of lycra against her chest brought back a rush of pleasant memories. How could she ever have thought she could leave all of this behind.

Carefully she adjusted the gold utility belt around here waist. There was no need to check each compartment. She knew each one would contain a duplicate of what was in her original arsenal. That, or an updated improvement.

Finally, to complete the transformation, Barbara reached for the tight purple and black cowl that rested on a Styrofoam head. Back in her early days of the Darknight Damsel, she'd worn a long haired red wig underneath the cowl to hide her own short locks. Now her own natural hair was more than long enough to take the wig's place.

Once cowl and cape were securely locked in place, the transformed Congresswoman stood before the large full sized wall mirror.

"This is what I was born to do." she said to the reflection of the crime-fighter. "I'm never going to make the mistake of leaving it behind again."

Opening the laptop that Bruce had left her, Batgirl quickly logged on to the secure link with the massive Batcave computers. Nimble fingers played across the keyboard as the files on the Crimson Rose filled the screen. Waynetech was the fourth largest computer software company in the world and in each program was a sub-routine that allowed Batman access to any system that used it. If there was a clue as to where to begin her search, it would be there.

Quickly, the costumed adventurer read the information on the woman who so wanted her dead. 26 years old, the Crimson Rose had been born Sumiko Tabuchi in a small village on the island of Hokkaido, Japan. Daughter of an American soldier and his bar girl lover, she had been left to grow up in the streets after her mother had simply gone out one day and never returned. By the time she was 18, the lithe teenager was already responsible for a half dozen murders and had acquired a reputation that impressed the local crime lord enough to accept her into his organization. Speculation was that the old man had also taken her as a lover but the only fact that was sure was that within two years the old man was dead and she was queen of his organization at the age of 20.

By 22 she had branched out into the world of international assassination and for the last four years had been one of the premier killers for hire. Sumiko had acquired a taste for the finest things in life as well as a fatalistic belief that everyday might be her last. It was an important aspect of her personality according to Batman's notes added to the bottom of the file. If anything, she was more apt to hide in plain sight than hole up in some hidden bolt hole.

The file also contained one of the few photographs of the Crimson Rose. Taken back in the days when she was just Sumiko Tabuchi. Even then, the eyes held both a fierce defiance as well as the spark of hidden intelligence. If you took the time to really look at them, you wouldn't be fooled by the outer appearance - that of a street urchin.

Reading over Batman's personal notes once more, Batgirl reflected how good it felt to be in costume again. It had been a long time. One thought led to another and she recalled the night she had worn it for what she had then believed would be the last time.

It was one of those nights were nothing was going right. She had just ended her relationship with Robin days before and had gone on patrol alone. Responding to a silent alarm at the Gotham Museum, she had interrupted a robbery in progress. The two low caliber thugs who had tripped the alarm systems went down without her breaking a sweat. She had just finished tying the two of them up when the lights went out.

"Who's there?" Batgirl called out as she spun around in the dark.

The only response was a soft feminine laugh. Followed a moment later by the muffled sound of a pair of boots hitting the floor. Batgirl turned in the direction of the noise but before she could do anything, a blinding light exploded in her eyes.

Batgirl's disorientation only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for the new arrival to grab her from behind and slip a silken cord around her wrists, pulling it tight. She heard the laugh once more and then the overhead lighting came on once again.

Illuminated by the twin rows of track lighting that covered the opposite walls, her assailant stood revealed. Clad in a skintight dark purple jumpsuit that looked like it had been literally poured onto her body, the intruder also wore a tight fitting cowl with small cat ears. Up to this moment, Batgirl had only seen her in pictures, but there was little doubt to her identity.

"You're the Catwoman!" she said in an excited voice.

"Congratulations. Did you figure that out all by yourself?" Catwoman laughed.

Confidently, the purple clad huntress strode over to where Batgirl had left the inept thieves. Slowly she shook her head and lamented on the sorry class of criminals these days.

"Wouldn't you just know it." she said as she walked over to the large glass case where a priceless and rare Egyptian cat emerald was on display. "I spend over a week casing this place. Then two hours hiding out after closing in a very uncomfortable spot. Finally an hour bypassing all of the alarms, only to have one of these idiots trip the last of them less than ten seconds before they would've been inactive. Some days you just can't win."

Picking up one of the flashlights the bungling burglars had dropped, Catwoman swung it in a wide arc and smashed open the display case.

"Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best." she grinned as she reached into the case and picked up the gemstone.

Dropping her prize into a small bag attached to her belt, Catwoman moved over to Batgirl, stopping when their faces were only a few inches apart.

"I hear you've been screwing the junior Batman." she said. "I admire your taste. He's both cute and a pretty nice fuck."

Batgirl didn't know what to answer. Her only thought was that if public knowledge of her relationship with Robin had reached that far, then she had ended it just in time.

"I was his first, I don't know if he told you that." she whispered in Batgirl's ear. "So every time he gets you off. Every time you feel his tongue in your pussy. Think of me cause I'm the one who showed him how it was done."

Then without warning, Catwoman grabbed the back of Batgirl's cowl and pulled their faces together. Batgirl was startled by the abrupt feel of Catwoman's lips against her own, then by the even more unanticipated touch of her tongue as it invaded her mouth.

The kiss was endless as Catwoman seemed to radiate more lust in a fully clothed kiss than many lovers did naked in bed. Barbara was only dimly aware of the feel of the feline fatale's hands as they cradled her lycra covered breasts.

"It's a pity that time is so short and the police so near." Catwoman purred. "I'd really love to show you how it's done as well. I've always had a thing for redheads."

One more brief kiss and she was gone, leaving a Batgirl both embarrassed and tantalizingly aroused.

That same night, ironically enough only four blocks away, Congressman Stephen Jefferson was entertaining an important constituent in his private apartment in the Gotham Royal. Her measure of importance was increasing by the moment as the 52 year old legislator pressed his cock harder and harder into her young almost hairless pussy. Her name was Bobbie Joe Wilson and she had just passed her 18th birthday a week before. She had met the Congressman at a political rally for, ironically enough, Citizens For A More Moral Government. She was looking forward to casting her first ever vote for him when he came up for re-election the following year.

The amply endowed brunette didn't realize at that moment, that she would have more of an impact on that election than anyone else in her district. Four minutes later, just as he was about to explode into what he had judged to be the tightest little snatch he'd ever had since his navy days in the Philippines some 30 years before, Stephen Jefferson instead suffered what doctors later referred to as massive coronary failure. Lost in her own climax, Bobbie Jo didn't realize that the man atop her wasn't moving anymore for quite some time. Then the sound of her screams reached throughout the surrounding floors of the upscale apartment house.

It was decided at the highest levels of the party that in order to gloss off the circumstances of Jefferson's death as smoothly as possible, it would be necessary to appoint someone as acceptable as possible to fill out the rest of his term. According to tradition, they had first offered it to his now widowed wife - who promptly told them where there could put their congressional seat. Still eager to make their announcement as soon after the funeral services as possible, they had gone down a short list the night before. The first three of the names on it were unavailable. The forth had been Barbara Gordon. In hindsight, they had congratulated themselves. Who would be more perfect to present a good image than the daughter of Gotham's own legendary police commissioner.

Overwhelmed by the honor, Barbara had immediately accepted and put away her double persona for what she thought would be the duration.

Floor by floor, room by room, Supergirl continued her clandestine observation. Most of the activities at the embassy were mundane in nature. This changed dramatically as her search reached the basement gym and the connecting locker rooms. More specifically, the showers reserved for female employees. The Girl of Steel was shocked to come across two women sharing a single shower. It was not only the shower they were sharing as they proceeded to soap and caress each other's naked form.

It wasn't the nature of the act the two olive skinned women were so actively engaged in that surprised her. After all, under different circumstances, she might have been inclined to join them. Rather it was the fact that the two had been willing to take the risk of discovery. Qurac was the type of country where you could find yourself put up against a wall for even harboring such desires - much less acting on them.

If Kara were to examine the two women's purses in the adjacent locker room, she would've discovered that the older of the two was the embassies cultural attaché. Slightly stocky in her late 30's, she had short brown hair that was just beginning to gray. Only 5'2", she had a rounded body with plentiful mounds.

Her taller, much younger companion was a new addition to her staff. Recently graduated from an American University, she had acquired certain desires there that had definitely not been part of the curriculum her government had sent her there for. Tall and small breasted, with long black hair that stretched down to below the buns of her ass, she really wasn't Kara's type. Still, the Girl of Steel was impressed by the enthusiastic way the 22 year old dropped to her knees and began to work her tongue in between the walls of her superior's love canal.

As entertaining the show they were putting on was, Supergirl has a job to do. She started to shift her gaze up to the first floor when she accidentally x-ray scanned the ventilation system above the shower room. She almost missed the small camera hidden above the vent.

For a second as she spotted the spy device, Supergirl was afraid the lovers had been found out and considered if she should get them out of there. Then to her relief, she noticed that the camera wasn't hooked into the main security system. Rather it was tied into a small video tape unit also hidden in the air shaft.

"The hook up looks a little amateurish." the blonde adventurer thought as she examined the unit a little closer. "I think I've come across someone's home movie maker."

A few seconds of concentration increased the power of her x-rays until the tape in the VCR began to smolder and then burst into flames. A small smile appeared on the corner of her mouth as a cloud of smoke filtered out of the vent, drawing the attention of the two women below.

Quickly they wrapped themselves with towels and ran for help. Hopefully, when the now melted recorder was found it would result in their being more circumspect in the future.

"Well that's my good deed for the day." Kara grinned as she shifted her gaze to another part of the Quraci consulate.

"Klahid speaking" Supergirl heard the chief of security say as he answered the phone.

The voice on the other end was female and it was perhaps the five hundredth phone call Kara had monitored this afternoon. Hopefully this wouldn't be another one of the security chief's seemingly endless parade of girlfriends. The man seemed to have a fetish for phone sex. Not a bad thing by itself, but the man also suffered from a terrible lack of imagination. "Gordon is still alive." the female voice said.

"You state the obvious." the security chief answered.

Supergirl jumped up to her feet, she'd hit the jackpot. Every fiber of her being began to focus on the carrier wave of that phone call. One by one, she tuned out every extraneous sound until the signal was all she heard. Then, using abilities that few could understand, she began to trace the line back to its origins. Twice she had lost it, then backtracked to find it again.

Mentally she superimposed the map of Washington over the invisible trail. It came to an end at one of the most exclusive hotels in the city. Specifically, the penthouse suite. Not exactly the place where you'd expect to find a terrorist cell. Then again, Sumiko wasn't your ordinary terrorist.

"I'll have this wrapped up by dinner." Supergirl thought as she dropped off the ledge and arced upward into the sky.

As the city passed beneath her, she imagined Barbara Gordon's response when she told her that Sumiko was safely behind bars and no longer her concern.

"It wasn't my fault that space-bitch interfered." the tall dark haired woman shouted into the phone. "If it wasn't for her, Gordon would be fish food by now. Trust me, there will be..."

The sound of shattering glass cut off her next words as Supergirl came crashing through the large French doors that led out to the balcony. Without pause, she grabbed the two armed men who were in the large living room and tossed them into the far wall. The impact robbed them both of the automatic weapons they'd been carrying and their consciousness.

"I'm afraid your conversation is going to be interrupted." Supergirl said as she stood in the center of the room, her hands on her waist. "For about a hundred years or so seeing as how many countries have warrants out on you."

"Supergirl!" the beautiful Amerasian woman exclaimed loudly as she dropped the phone and reached for the bright red carry bag on a nearby table.

"Sorry, that bag definitely doesn't go with that dress." Supergirl said as her eyes flashed red for a moment and the bag burst into flames.

Sumiko recoiled from the sudden heat as whatever weapons might have been in the bag were instantaneously transformed into melted slag. A string of curses, some of which were new even to Supergirl, came out in rapid fire Japanese.

"Now now"," Supergirl said with a smile. "Such language from a lady."

Sumiko stood 5'10" and amply filled out the expensive white evening gown she was wearing. Evidently she had plans for the evening, plans which would now be somewhat changed.

When you're nearly indestructible, it's easy to become overconfident. So it was that Kara was paying more attention to the deep crevice between Sumiko's breasts than to the small hand that moved across those mounds. With a sudden motion, the Japanese woman ripped off the pendant around her neck and after popping it open, tossed it to Supergirl.

"A present." she laughed chillingly.