SEL Chapter 3

Barbara’s not happy about anything that has happened tonight, and Mayor Hill’s **** is nothing to joke about. She still wants to laugh when Summer bursts into her hospital room. Her characteristic skirt and blazer look is rumpled, her glasses are crooked, and more than a few hairs are out of place.

Barbara’s a little disheveled too, sitting in her chair with her sleeve rolled up. Summer must have yelled at a lot of cops to have gotten in here.

“Hi,” Barbara says tiredly.

Summer doesn’t do anything as obvious as ask if she’s OK; she just hurries over and kneels, putting her hands on Barabara’s knee.

“Jesus Christ,” she says, and Barbara snorts.

Seeing Barbara almost killed on TV? Mayor Hill getting shot? Or is Summer already thinking about the Fallout? The answer is all of the above.

Barbara puts her hand on Summer’s and gives a light squeeze.

“It’s OK. We’re OK.” She’s used to bullets and danger, but it’s not the same for Summer. She’s been in danger before, but Summer was never Batgirl.

“Don’t patronize me. You know how hard it is to have a best friend when you do what I do?”

“I can relate,” Barbara says, trying not to laugh.

Summer gives her hand a little slap. “That was scary!”

“Hey, I was the one they were shooting at.”

“They hit Hill first,” Summer notes. Then she shakes her head. “I don’t want to think about that right now. What are you doing?”

“I’m going to Wayne Tower. For my protection,” Barbara adds, making quotes.

“You’re going to see Ivy.”

“It’s the perfect excuse.” Barbara shrugs.

“Is she really that needy?”

“No. But I need her happy, I need her to know that people care about her, and I do enjoy her company,” Barbara says, counting on her fingers.

“A little coldblooded,” Summer notes, unable to help but be a reporter. “A man is dead.”

“I’m not sentimental about Hill, but I also don’t want to think about what this means for any of us. And I’m not making any statements tonight. So my schedule is free.”

“Oooh, defensive.”

“You know me so well. Want to come do an exclusive with me and Ivy?”

Summer bristles, then blushes. She rolls her eyes, then reaches up and prods Barbara’s forehead with a fingertip. “Maybe you just use that politician brain and figure out how you can… tell me all about it later.”

“Easy. Guess we’d better see how the dust settles first, though.”

“Guess so,” Summer says with a little glare. “You have fun. I’ll go figure out what to say to make Mayor Hill sound like a good guy.”

“He wasn’t a bad guy,” Barbara says seriously. “That means something in this town.”

Summer can’t argue with that.

SEL

“Oh boy,” Stephanie says under her breath as she reaches the edge of the roof. The O’Neil building is ahead, and there’s a busted window on the tenth floor. It’s never good when things are happening high up. Red and blue flash below; the cops are down there, but they haven’t moved in yet because they don’t know what’s going on.

Stephanie’s not about to rush in. Bruce could get away with that stuff, but Stephanie has been… humbled too many times not to have learned some lessons. She takes a knee and raises binoculars, peering through the broken window. Wayne Enterprise’s best technology can zoom, identify targets, and correct for low-light conditions.

The binoculars identify a substantial safe that’s wide open and a set of unmistakably female hindquarters wearing tight, black pants sticking out of it. Selina? Breaking into a Wayne-owned business? Well, everyone thinks Bruce is dead. Maybe she doesn’t care. And while Selina doesn’t really do anything that Stephanie considers villainous, she does steal things. Stephanie wants to let it go, but… sometimes Selina gets into trouble with the wrong people, then they make her steal dangerous stuff, and Stephanie has an obligation to keep dangerous stuff from falling into the wrong hands.

Well, she can handle Selina one on one. Stephanie fires her grapple and leaps. It’s only as she’s swinging that she asks herself: since when does Selina break windows and set off alarms?

She swings through the opening and lands.

“Hold it,” she says.

“Oh, come on,” replies a muffled voice. A dark-haired woman wearing goggles and a brown bomber jacket withdraws from the safe and looks back, then gets to her feet, holding a flash drive.

Stephanie knows her, although they’ve never met face to face.

“Roxanne Sutton,” she says. Also known as Roxy Rocket. A former stuntwoman turned criminal, Roxy uses a rocket that amounts to a flying motorcycle to commit her crimes. She’s tangled with Batman a few times. She’s in it for thrills, not money. Her presence here explains the high altitude, but not the rest. Stephanie sees the tattered remains of a glider chute. It’s just like Roxy to do something as crazy as gliding this low in the city.

Roxy cocks her head. “Who are you supposed to be?”

“Spoiler,” Stephanie says, bristling. She’s been active for a few weeks and doing OK for herself. Sure, she doesn’t have the big, yellow bat on her chest anymore… not that anyone really noticed when she was Batgirl anyway. It was always just comparisons to Barbara.

“Who?”

“I used to be Batgirl!”

“Did not,” Roxy retorts. “She wore gray. And she had a little more to work with, you know?” She gestures toward her chest with her gloved hands.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up,” Roxy replies, tucking the flash drive into her cleavage.

“Where’s your rocket, Roxy?”

“Why do you think I’m stealing money?”

“I thought you were in Metropolis.”

Roxy groans and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well, messing with Superman isn’t as much fun as I thought it would. I know when I’m out of my league.”

“Even with the rocket, you’re out of your league here,” Stephanie notes. “I have a jet.”

“You aren’t Batman.”

“I have his jet.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Want to find out?”

“Hey, maybe you do have a jet. But I have them,” Roxy says, pointing.

Stephanie turns to see two massive goons looming over her.

“Oh, shit,” she says.

SEL

Not only is Ivy completely unbothered by Mayor Hill’s ****, even with Barbara’s abilities in the sack somewhat limited, she is happy to do the work. Indeed, Barbara feels like a passenger even though Ivy’s the one riding her. Her hands rest on Ivy’s joyfully undulating hips while she’s smothered with sweaty boobs.

Ivy cries out and arches her back, letting Barbara up for air. She slows down, resting her palms on Barbara’s ribcage, then sliding them up over her boobs and squeezing. Still rocking, she gazes down, hair sticking to her face.

“Glad I didn’t catch you in mourning,” Barbara says breathlessly.

“You don’t seem too broken up,” Ivy pants in reply. Her pussy squeezes Barbara’s cock and Barbara’s belly flutters.

“I’ll be broken up tomorrow.”

“I’m glad you had time for me. I’ve been neglected.”

“I tried to score you a three-way,” Barbara says with a grin.

“With who?”

“Summer Gleeson.”

Ivy pauses, absently massaging Barbara’s breasts. “Redhead? On TV?”

“You really don’t know her?”

“I don’t watch much TV. How’d you blow it?” Now she sounds annoyed.

“I didn’t. Not everyone’s crazy enough to get in bed with me or you, let alone both of us. I’m sorry. Is that what you’re into?”

“I just want some human contact,” Ivy mutters, starting to move her hips again.

“Strange thing for the crazy plant lady who hates mankind to say,” Barbara says obnoxiously.

Ivy twitches. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Fine.” Ivy calls Barbara’s bluff and climbs off.

“Mmm!” Barbara can’t get a word out before Ivy’s on her face. Ivy’s fingers move through Barbara’s hair, and she sighs as Barbara accepts her fate and uses her tongue.

SEL

The goons are big. Real big. There’s no time to notice anything more than that.

Roxy bolts for the broken window. She’s wearing another chute.

Stephanie’s fast, but she’s only one person. Gooparangs are the solution to all problems; she firmly believes that, and has a lot of evidence to support her thesis. But she can only address one problem at a time. She has no idea what’s on that flash drive.

Stop Roxy?

Or protect herself?