BAE Chapter 70

The Batcave hasn’t changed much, but Stephanie Brown has.

She isn’t a child anymore. Spoiler. Batgirl. Robin. It doesn’t take a great therapist to know that she was searching for an identity back then. She liked to think that she’d found one when she settled down for these past few years, but here she is.

“You haven’t lost a step,” Alfred says as a winded Stephanie climbs the stairs leading up from the training area.

“I bet if we did the score thing, I’d still be behind Tim,” she says, accepting the towel that he offers her.

“It’s not a competition.”

“Not to you. I missed you, Alfred.”

“It’s good to have you back.”

Stephanie takes a deep breath. Bats squeak in the darkness and water drips. She and Alfred are alone in this vast place. It’s cool and placid. She feels safer and calmer in this moment than she has in a long time.

“Do you know where Cass is?” she asks bluntly.

“I’m afraid that I’m not at liberty to discuss that.”

Stephanie grimaces. “Right. I can tell it’s driving Babs crazy to leave this killing unsolved. Might as well take a look at it.” She touches her earpiece and heads for the computer. “Kate, you good?”

“She’s on the move. Don’t worry. I’ll behave,” Kate says.

“We should go easy on Babs. She’s under a lot of pressure.”

“Suckup.”

“See, that’s funny. You were literally on your knees when I walked in on you,” Stephanie says, then she remembers that Alfred is right there. “But that’s not important. You think she’s made you?”

“Not sure, but I’m leaning that way. If she thought she was safe, she’d be making more contact. I own her phone now, but whatever app she’s using is deleting the messages. There’s nothing incoming. She’s a medical student. I think she’s being careful.”

“Don’t you just hate the smart ones?” Stephanie drops into the huge chair in front of the Bat Computer. “Keep me posted. I’m going to solve this ****.”

“You get to have all the fun.”

“We’ll see.” Stephanie brings up Barbara’s notes, which are succinct and clear. There’s something to be said for working with a PhD candidate. Barbara’s a good writer. There’s not much to catch up on. “Babs bugged the window with a pickup,” she says to Alfred. “Get anything off that?”

“Nothing useful. Ms. Beaumont has not entertained since then. Some half-intelligible phone conversations, but nothing was flagged by the computer,” Alfred says.

“Another smart one, huh? Great. It says here that this Riley Beaumont is having some kind of affair with the DA. And that Babs thinks it’s ongoing.”

“A reasonable conclusion, in context,” Alfred confirms.

“And Barbara met her as Barbara Gordon.”

“Ms. Gordon was left with the impression that this young woman, Ms. Riley Beaumont, took a rather amorous view of the world. Not unlike Ms. Kane, in some ways.”

“You’re saying she’s horny and shameless?”

“I wouldn’t presume to judge.”

Stephanie leans back in the big chair and crosses her legs and arms, frowning at the notes. “And Babs doesn’t want us doing anything too direct while she’s napping, right?”

“Quite.”

“Indirect it is. I’ll need you to pull some Wayne money strings for me.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“My dad used to say that hunting was a mug’s game. Let’s try baiting the hook.”

“Very good, Ms. Brown.”

BAE

At least Stephanie doesn’t have to doubt that coming back was the right thing to do. She missed this so much. Sexy purple leggings and a strappy sports bra aren’t quite a Batsuit, but getting all put together to fight crime is pure joy.

She breezes into the gym where Riley Beaumont works as a personal trainer. Alfred’s ability to make things happen does not disappoint. Stephanie has barely checked in when Riley Beaumont appears.

Riley’s about Stephanie’s height, with hair a little redder and brighter than Barbara’s. Her body suits her job, and she’s every bit as fit as Barbara, Stephanie, and Kate. She wears a snug black workout top and short, cute, 80s-style gym shorts that betray the bulge between her legs. There’s a hint of her toned abs on display, but it's her smooth, shapely legs and hindquarters that have the guy behind the desk staring. What Stephanie walked in on with Kate and Babs has been living rent-free in her mind. And there’s all this talk about the Seed Attack and women with dicks. There’s no stopping all the thoughts that come from that.

Riley Beaumont doesn’t have jock energy, exactly, but there’s definitely something about her. She doesn’t make a production of checking out Stephanie, but she does. Stephanie is used to it, just not from women.

“Hi. I’m Riley.”

“Thanks for seeing me. Scheduling is really hard for me,” Stephanie replies.

“It’s fine. I’m happy to help. Looks like you’re in great shape.”

“Thanks,” Stephanie replies. “But I need to, um, do some work.”

“OK,” Riley says, looking pleased. She puts her arm around Stephanie’s waist and guides her into the gym. “What can we do?”

“Lower body.”

“Lower body like… I’m a distance runner? Or lower body like I enjoy getting likes on social media?”

“The second one,” Stephanie says with a self-deprecating smile.

“It’s Sara, right?” That’s the fake name that Alfred used for this.

“Yeah.”

“Sara, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Riley leans over as though to take a second look. “I’m confident in saying that.”

“I wish that I was confident.”

“You should be!” Riley says. “Trust me. I would know.”

A minute later, Stephanie is on a leg press and Riley is positioning her feet for her.

“You want to go higher. As high as you can. That’ll engage your glutes more,” she’s explaining.

“If you say so,” Stephanie replies.

“OK, nice and easy.” Riley puts her hand on Stephanie’s waist and leans in close. “Go ahead and press. Do not use your lower back at all. Stay relaxed. Let your spine really push into that backrest. Glutes and legs engaged. Nothing else.”

Stephanie obeys, then lets out a bark of laughter.

“What’s funny?” Riley asks.

“You sound like my boss,” Stephanie says wryly.

“Your boss is into fitness?”

“I guess in a way. No, you said glutes only, nothing else. Sometimes I feel like he, uh… like in his world, glutes are the only thing. You know?”

Riley looks sympathetic. “I’m sorry.”

Stephanie shrugs. “It’s whatever. He’s the mayor. He can do what he wants.”

Riley looks taken aback. A couple of seconds pass.

“How many times should I go?” Stephanie asks.

“Oh, stop. You’re good. Let’s hold up a second before we do another set,” Riley says, placing her hand on Stephanie’s thigh.

“OK.”

Riley chews her lip for a second. “You work for the mayor?”

“Well, kind of,” Stephanie lies shyly. “I work for his campaign.”

“Oh,” Riley says with a nod. “OK. Sounds stressful.”

“Kind of,” Stephanie says.

There’s no question that in the hour that follows, Riley puts her hands on Stephanie’s body quite a bit more than is necessary. Stephanie isn’t sure which is worse: Riley’s confidence in her sexiness or the fact that she has the bod and the chemistry to back it up. She knows what she’s talking about, she gives just the right amount of pushing and encouragement, and plenty of compliments. What’s not to like? Stephanie can understand why this girl is the most popular trainer in Gotham’s most expensive gym. If Riley goes out of her way to make all of her clients feel likable and sexy like this—well, it explains why even someone as high-profile as the DA would fall under her spell.

Stephanie is almost sorry when the hour is up.

Riley stops her as she’s heading for the front lobby.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Riley says, putting her hand on the wall and leaning in. “I know this is horrible, so I’m going to own it. I’m sure you get hit on a lot at the gym, but I’d be kicking myself all night if I didn’t.” She looks into Stephanie’s eyes. “Would you want to get dinner? Or a drink or something later?”

The thrill of the trap doesn’t quite reach the highs of the thrill of the hunt, but Stephanie is glad to be back. Although this particular maneuver might be just a wee bit out of her comfort zone. That won’t stop her. Barbara doesn’t want her in costume, breaking into Riley’s apartment to search the place for evidence. Fine. There’s more than one way to get in there.

Dinner?

Or a drink?