She hated the name. Loathed it with every fiber of her being. And yet, it was she who wore the cowl. She who worked in the cave, and she who they dubbed "batman".
"Batman, they called, or even worse, "Batdude!" The press clamored for her attention, but not as her, as batman. She doutbed that they would want her attention if she was herself, who she set out to be, batwoman…
Because. Because a woman couldn't be a hero. Women were meant to be the damsels in distress, the arm candy, just another pretty face.
The suit was loose enough to hide her form, an idea that Alfred had had after her first night where the Riddler had laughed her off for being a woman.
Soon, her rage started to boil over when she was asked if any of her lady friends where silly enough to break her equipment.
"Godammit!" She wanted to scream, "Woman can be better then men, though you may not be evolved enough to comprehend the idea!"
Soon the press was all over bat"man." Because he was a man. Because he rescued beautiful damsels in distress, because all the girls wanted him
bat"man". That was how she thought of herself now. Not fully batwoman. Not anymore, yet she would not, would never be batman. She refused.
One night, after she had just saved the city, the press was all over her. Not for her though, clamoring for his attention, for batman's
"Batman, Batman, you have lowered crime rates in Gotham exponentially, do you have anything to say?" She did. "One thing. I'm not a man"
Soon crime rates were back up. Newspapers were laughing her off of headlines. But she didn't care.
She was herself. Soon enough the press started to except her, and villains realized that she was the one that had put her in Arkham in the first place, and she would put them back.
This is a really terrible story that I just found buried in the depths of my laptop, tell me what you think, flames are ok.