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Back in the Bat Cave, you get straight to work trying to pick up any clues as to where the three villainesses have their hideouts and what they are planning next. A sample of your blood indicate a poison from a flower you don’t recognise and it has been mixed with Ivy’s own chlorophyll blood. You won’t be able to create an antidote on your own. The police reports are shedding no light either and you’ve left the computer on search. It is a mixed blessing that Alfred has the week off relaxing abroad which means, you may not have to have that awkward conversation about the illicit adventures you are likely to take part in soon. But it also means no one is around to keep you informed of any updates. You may have to come back to the cave more often than usual. You gaze at the computer screens dimly. Still nothing. Where is your favourite sex kitten? Where is the scantily-clad nymph and the naughty, curvaceous jester? Where are these pussies hiding?
A tap on the shoulder startles you. “Bruce? Are you alright?” It is Batgirl.
“Barbara. I didn’t hear you come in.”
“No kidding. I’d been calling you from the top of the stairs. What happened?”
“The Sirens are back together. I was captured by Ivy, Catwoman and Quinn. They let me go after injecting me with some kind of poison that…affects my mind. They all have part of the antidote. I just need to find them.”
“Well, we were getting worried about you after we lost contact. Dick and Helena are still out there looking for you.”
“Huntress? After all we’ve been through and she still worries about me.”
“We all do. Sure, Helena’s got a bit of a temper but who can blame her? The way I see it, the longer she hangs with us, the more ‘behaved’ she’ll become. You should let her join the team.”
“I’ll give it some thought once I’ve found the Sirens. In the meantime, you should call them. Tell them I’m okay, but they should stay out there keeping watch over Gotham. You should go too. This poison isn’t causing any ill effects that I can’t control but I don’t know how much it will impair my better judgment.”
“So you’re going to sit staring at the screens until something happens? You were never good with computers. Share the seat. Maybe I’ll find something you missed.”
“I am good; just no expert.”
She budges you aside sitting on one half of the seat and immediately goes to work on the keyboard putting in search patterns and key codes you’ve never even heard of. As she pushes the buttons excitedly, you can’t help but marvel at the petite form sitting next to you: skilful fingers hectic yet coordinated; slender legs tucked slightly under the seat; perky breasts on a small, athletic frame; long hair shining red. She’s become quite the desirable young woman, even more so in that uniform. You vacate the seat before she notices your hard-on.