CONTINUITY: I suppose it's before War Games.
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to DC Comics. I just fantasize about them.
NOTES: This is for the Psych30 challenge 16, fetish.
Bruce stalked away from the car, swishing his cape in anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tim and Alfred exchange a meaningful glance, but he really didn't care. All he wanted to do was write up the night's work and forget--
"Hello, Bruce!" Barbara's unusually cheerful voice boomed out of the high-quality speakers.
Bruce whirled and glared, which dimmed the gigantic grin on her face not a whit. Tim and Alfred, however, took a step back toward the steps leading to the mansion.
"Tim, Alfred, so good to see you," she said, her grin getting wider.
"Oracle," Bruce said in a dangerous tone, "we have work to do."
"Do you know," she said, looking thoughtful, "Lois has been trying to get an exclusive from me for years. 'Secrets of the Superheroes,' that kind of thing."
Tim typed something into the auxiliary keyboard, Alfred at his shoulder.
Barbara rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her Batgirl coffee mug. "No, it's not Poison Ivy or the Mad Hatter, Tim. Just to save you some time. No, this is me in a good mood."
"Oracle," Bruce said in the closest thing to a pleading tone anyone had heard from him in years.
She waved a hand at him. "You are not going to ruin this perfect moment for me. I intend to tell them what happened this evening."
"I forbid it," he said, switching tactics.
"Oh, but this could be important, it could affect your safety. I think your partner there needs to know--"
"No!"
"That you have a--"
"Barbara!"
"Groupy!"
For a very long moment, the only sounds were rustling bats and the whirr of the ventilation system.
As Tim and Alfred turned to stare at him, Bruce wondered what he had done to the universe to merit this. Barbara sipped her coffee with an expression that had become positively beatific.
It fell to Alfred, as always, to try to save the awkward situation. "Pardon me, Miss Barbara, but I'm afraid we must have misunderstood you. Perhaps--"
"Oh no, you heard exactly right. Batman has a groupy."
Bruce pulled off the cowl and covered his eyes with his hands.
Barbara sighed happily. "A groupy with a fetish for leather."
Tim developed a highly suspicious cough, while Alfred was obviously torn.
"Dare I ask...?" the latter ventured.
Bruce glared at him.
"Well, it became fairly obvious," Barbara said, "when the young woman in question ripped off her dress to reveal a leather bodice and underwear and yelled 'Take me, Batman!'"
From behind them, Dick's voice echoed in the silence. "Do I even want to know what you're talking about?"
--end--