BAE Chapter 88

“Got it, Boss,” Stephanie says, nodding.

Vicki Vale is well-known around Gotham for her beauty and reporting. She’s not afraid to lean on her beauty from time to day. Today she carries her coat over her arm. Her little dress isn’t particularly daring except for the tiniest cleavage cutout that manages to be more stimulating than a plunging neckline. She’s found pantyhose even sexier than Stephanie’s, and she wears serious shoes as though she actually knows what she’s doing. Her wavy hair is a much paler, less violent shade of red than Barbara’s, and she wears it down. Her lipstick, beauty mark, and rather sultry default expression make her look as though she’s just come from an audition for a femme fatale role.

Meanwhile, Stephanie is flushed, a little rumpled from all the sweating that she’s been doing, and clutching her purse in front of her to keep any signs of excitement from showing. She’s gotten her erection to go down, but she’s no longer tucked and she doesn’t trust her skirt to hide anything.

They stand in the hallway outside the newly-rented offices, reflected in black and white chessboard tiles under old, soft, orange lights. The window behind them gives a nice view of the back and wings of a gargoyle looking down over a narrow, choked, downtown street where pedestrians in coats step over vagrants.

Vicki holds her notepad and pen as though she were born with them. She gazes at Stephanie with a sly, almost predatory smile.

“You aren’t what I expected,” she says, clicking the pen.

“What did you expect?” Stephanie musters some bearing.

Vicki’s eyes look Stephanie up and down. They miss nothing. She shrugs.

“Sara with an H?”

“No H,” Stephanie says.

“Perfect. What made you decide to become politically active?”

Great. Just great. Stephanie isn’t opposed to coming up with a great backstory for Sara Smith, but she wasn’t expecting to have to do this. Lying convincingly will be tough. Telling the truth is impossible. That leaves… the old razzle-dazzle.

“I thought it would be a good opportunity to talk to foxy reporters,” Stephanie replies.

Vicki’s no rookie, but even she is taken aback. She’s a celebrity, and Sara Smith is ostensibly a nobody. It’s hard to pretend to be meek when one spends her nights punching criminals. Stephanie just wishes that she had this kind of confidence when she’s talking to hot guys.

Vicki taps her pen against her lips.

“So that’s how you’re playing it. All right,” she says.

“Come on,” Stephanie says with a little shrug. She can’t do much more than that; the outfit is too limiting. “There’s not even anything to get here. We’re literally setting up the office and making plans. There isn’t even a campaign to report on yet.”

“That’s what you would say.”

Stephanie snorts. “We’re the incumbent, Vicki. I don’t know what the Mayor’s official statement would be, but he’s not sweating.” If Vicki quotes Sara on this, it will sound good.

“I’m not reporting on the campaign, Ms. Smith. I’m reporting on the election. Starting with what sorts of people Mayor Hill is hiring to run his campaign. I guess we’ll start with you. Shall we have a drink?”

“What time is it?”

“Past lunch.”

“Sure. If I’m going to be the subject of an in-depth profile, I’m not doing it sober.”

Vicki seems to like that. “Michael’s is downstairs. You won’t even have to put your coat on and it shouldn’t be crowded. I’ll buy you a margarita.”

“Works for me,” Stephanie replies, getting into character. It’s easy to just… act like Kate acts all the time. “Lead on.”

Vicki turns and starts down the hallway and Stephanie looks at her feet. She’s got to learn to handle heels like that. It’s not just the shoes, it’s the effect that they have on walking. Stephanie wouldn’t even know where to start making her hips move like that. Her eyes travel up Vicki’s legs to the fluttering hem of her skirt, which clings and stretches in all the right ways.

“Shit,” Stephanie mutters, keeping her purse firmly in place. A perfectly innocent curiosity about walking in shoes just turned into serious tingles. Is this what Seed does? There’s no way that it’s just the penis. Ivy must’ve made Seed turn everyone a little gayer. There’s no other explanation. Stephanie swallows nervously, her eyes on Vicki’s backside. Is this what life is going to be now? Or is it just her?

Her face is heating up as she follows Vicki into the elevator, which is crowded.

Suddenly self-conscious about all the sweat, Stephanie only begins to sweat more. She might be acting cool, but her body must be telling Vicki otherwise. It’s not Vicki’s first day. She must see through all this.

The elevator stops at a lower floor and more people get in. Stephanie finds herself pushed into the corner. It’s not her favorite situation, but she’s been in worse. Her purse jabs the guy in front of her, and she considerately moves it.

“Jeez,” Vicki mutters as the elevator stops again and more people crowd in. This is life in Gotham, but this is a huge building with all sorts of rentals inside. It’s not a great building, frankly. Notably, this is where Mayor Hill’s campaign planning committee is based, not the campaign itself. That’ll be somewhere more photogenic.

“Oh!” escapes from Stephanie’s lips as Vicki is pressed, through no fault of her own, in front of her.

Stephanie feels terror like she hasn’t since her days of screwing up royally around Batman. Vicki’s rear end is shoved against her and the purse isn’t there to protect her. She isn’t hard, but that’s about to change because Vicki’s perky ass is the stuff teenage boys dream of.

Pleasure and total horror mingle as the juices flow and Stephanie’s brand-new penis swells, straining against her tight outfit. Vicki cannot possibly fail to feel it back there.

There’s a nasty, metallic squealing noise. The carriage jolts to a halt.

They’re obviously between floors. Something’s wrong.

Someone coughs. Seconds go by.

All Stephanie can see is Vicki’s perfect hair. All she can smell is herself, and all she can feel is between her legs. This is bad. Real bad.

Should she apologize?

Or say nothing?