Barbara Gordon stretched in her bed as she yawned. It had been a rather intense dream. When she had been wheel-chair bound following her little home invasion by the Joker, she had dreamed of prowling the Gotham City night once more. Following an experimental surgery she was back in the field as Batgirl once again. But last night she had an old dream, one she hadn’t had in a long time. She giggled at the thought of being Catwoman. Off and on she had had dreams of being Catwoman and committing various acts; like stealing the Boy Wonders v-card, taking the Batmobile, walking out of the Gotham Diamond district with all the jewelry she could ever want, getting a double date with Dick and some of the other junior superheroes.
Barbara smiled.
“Meow,” she said at the fading memories of being the princess of crime.
Barbara panicked when she went to scratch her belly and found it in rubber. Throwing her sheets and covers off, she screamed at the sight, from neck to wrists and ankles she was clad in a black rubber catsuit. On her night stand were the clawed gloves and cat hood. Looking over the side of her bed was the boots and a bag of… oh no! Looking in the bag, it was a diamond and gold choker, a few rings and platinum bracelet.
“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” Barbara was freaking out.
The doorbell went off, then it went off again and again, that had to be Dick! She shoved the boots, gloves, hood, and loot under her bed. She grabbed a bathrobe and went to answer the door.
“Hello Babs,” Dick held out cup of coffee, “Don’t bother lying.”
“Lying?” Barbara gasped.
“We both know you just got out of bed. You have been up for what? Maybe five minutes?” Dick smiled, “I take it the finals last night went well? You never went out on patrol.”
“Yeah, it was stress full, I went and did some shopping then called it a night,” Barbara said.
“Did you buy that?” Dick smiled as he pointed at the bits of black rubber sticking out from under the bathrobe, “It isn’t part of any of your known Batgirl outfits. Did you buy that for us?”
“Dick you can be such an ass,” Barbara downed her coffee.
“What? I can hope can’t I?” Dick smiled, “I still think you are the best thing that happened to me. To you I am just digging myself deeper aren’t I?”
“With an excavator there Boy Blunder.”
“Any rate,” Dick shrugged, “I’m sure your in box will be filled, but there was a rash of Catwoman Copy cats last night. We had two know here in Gotham. We know that Catwoman was accounted for all night so we are seeing if this was a sleep agent plot of hers.”
“How do you know she was accounted for?” Barbara asked.
“She spent the night giving Bruce hand jobs at the opera,” Dick noted crassly, “And then spent the early morning hours screaming like a banshee in Bruce’s bed room.”
“You are kidding,” Barbara stared at her boyfriend, “Please tell me you are kidding.”
“Nope.”