Author's Note: The legal stuff is at the end again to avoid spoilers… and all I can say in my defense is how could I NOT go in this direction?

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Chapter 3 – THE (un) USUAL SUSPECTS

By SHADO Commander

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"This is an outrage!" The pointy eye-browed man with the ratty-beard and lame butterfly suit screamed as he exited the small office tucked away at the end of HenchCo's main Gotham warehouse and recruiting center. "Do you know who you're trifling with?"

"It's okay, sweetie," the stunningly hot black-haired woman with the pink retro Jackie outfit and a frighteningly deep voice soothed the mothman as they were lead out. "He said he'd call if one of the lairs on hold opened up."

Shego resisted the urge to grit her teeth at the man's continued whining… that might have given away the fact that she'd been listening in on the entire conversation… as well as the three before it… with the GJ ultrasonic audio amplifier she was currently wearing disguised as one of a pair of blue sapphire earrings. However, it was hard not to be discouraged under the current circumstances.

Her 'simple' little assignment had been to drop into the Gotham criminal underground and gather info about the other… er… the REAL supervillains and send it on to Global Justice without causing too much havoc herself. The one-eyed harridan who ran the ultra secret law enforcement agency had made no secret of not trusting the resident caped crusaders' ability to keep the peace over the upcoming few weeks, but, at the same time, GJ's complex relationship with the Bats was currently much too thorny for Dr. Director to have offered any direct assistance to the Gotham PD. Not that Shego normally cared a damn what Betty's local problems were, but that had only been the beginning of the steadily increasing shitstorm of stupid crap and piss-poor luck that had been raining on the ex-villain since she'd come to Gotham.

It had been bad enough that when she'd arrived here two hours ago and discovered that there was a line… an actual, honest to God queue of approximately 30 villains waiting to rent lairs and henchmen! She'd been relieved at first when half of them had been asked to leave once they'd filled out their 1069-02s (Lair Rental Request Forms) and been proven to be wannabes with no prior villaining history. Shego had to give Betty one point for that: the staged and nearly staged jobs she'd pulled out west under the Blue Fire name had definitely given her alias just enough street cred to be taken seriously here. Or, then again, maybe it was just that she'd ditched the Blue Fire costume in favor of a more comfortable pair of blue jeans and an old black leather motorcycle jacket that made her look even more intimidating than she usually did… which was saying quite a bit.

In either case, the NEXT thing to go wrong had been when she'd found out that Jack Hench was handling the interviews personally. It was one thing for her to attempt to bluff her way past some local office worker, but she'd met Hench dozens of time in person and she had to wonder if the dye and paint job Betty's team had worked on her would be enough to fool him. Worst case scenario, of course, was that she could come out to him and admit that she was really Shego and that she was starting up the new villain career while keeping the pardon she'd received for her new identity. It wasn't as if that kind of duplicity wasn't completely in character for her, after all, which was why Betty had originally approached her with the idea of going bad again in the first place. Anyone who did manage to crack the disguise of the woman pretending to be a supervillain would find that she was actually… ta daa! a real supervillain.

That was a revelation Shego really didn't want to make, however, as it would mean blowing a cover they'd spent a lot of time creating. Spending another six months in some backwater part of the country making 'thefts' from third rate museums and fifth rate private collectors was bad enough, but the semi-staged bank robberies she'd had to pull always carried the danger of accidentally getting shot by one of the local cops or guards who wasn't cued into the scam. And it would require even more time to do it because any NEW identity that they created for her would be even harder to establish… her powers were fairly unique and it had taken a lot of time for GJ's research team to discover the chemical combination that made her plasma burn blue instead of green. Plus, even if they could figure out how to tint it, say, red, there was the little issue of changing her skin color AGAIN. At least her current blue-white wasn't that far off from the pale green she'd gotten used to, next time she might be red or dandylion yellow.

And then there was that other reason that Shego didn't want anyone to find out that she was being a villain again, even if it WAS as part of an undercover operation.

Not that ANY of that looked like it was going to even matter at this point, as what was making Shego's job seem nearly impossible right now was that it looked like Betty had, if anything, underestimated the level of interest the cornucopia of high dollar events occurring so close together had brought to Gotham. To start with, the local kingpins of crime had all gone on a major hiring binge weeks ago, with the end result being that if you wanted ANY henchmen in this town, you HAD to go straight to the source: Jack Hench. And what Shego's eavesdropping was revealing pretty quickly was that Hench himself was reaching his limit. Oh, he could bring in more Henchmen from out of town, but the formerly green woman had heard him tell the three of the five villains ahead of her in line that he was basically out of Henchco Lairs, and the Henchco Henchman's contracts were VERY specific about Henches being able to work only in lairs that had been certified as acceptable by the senior Union reps. Those, needless to say, were all either in the hands of, or promised to, the local crooks, and while Hench could probably get a few more on line before the first major event began, it was going to be a sellers market.

"It's not gouging. Its basic supply and demand," Hench had told the first villain he'd met with, a strange looking man whose head was nothing but an exposed brain. "In fact, I think I'm being pretty stand up in honoring my usual contractual terms with my local regulars. If they've got the cash at their established rates, they get the men and real estate. If, after all my regulars have had the opportunity to pay at their USUAL rates, on the spot, THEN I'll make the space available at whatever price I think the market will bear. The same goes for the Henchmen… I'm bringing in as many as I can from out of town, but the Joker, the Penguin, Two-Face and the Riddler are all still asking for more too."

That villain had left with Hench's promise that he'd be called as soon as/if a lair became available, and the second villain, a big, burly hominid with the head of a wolf or dog… she wasn't quite sure which, although she guessed 'it' was a male from the business suit it wore… received much the same treatment.

The THIRD interviewee, was another a matter altogether, and had been a major gamechanger. For one thing, they'd swept him in through an unmarked side entrance and Shego would never have even SEEN him if the pocket game system she'd been pretending to play hadn't actually been displaying the signal from the little dead cockroach-shaped camera/AV transmitter that she'd dropped on the floor and kicked down the hall while pretending to get a drink of water. The second giveaway was that Hench had practically been fawning over the villain, who wore a green shroud over a complete set of armor that obscured even his face. There was only one villain who matched that description… no on else would dare imitate his 'look'… but what the hell was HE doing here in Gotham?

"I said I can't give you one YET, your Excellency," Jack Hench had told the man immediately. "If you'd called in advance I could have arranged something, but Gotham's only so big and Henchco has a limited number of rent-a-lairs in the vicinity. Add to that the amount of cash that's going to be flowing through the city over the next two months, every villain in the Western Hemisphere is trying to get in on the action."

"I am trusting that by the word 'yet,' that you WILL procure a lair before I require it?" The uber-villain asked.

"I'm certain that I can," Hench had promised quickly, then added conspiratorially, "Let's just say that there some of my regulars who broke out of Arkham two days ago. To be frank, they're not the kind my Henchmen are comfortable working with in the first place, but they've also managed to raise the wrath of one of the major local players. I'd prefer that they just disappeared, but the problem is the contractual obligations Henchco's tied to in their lease. Technically, I HAVE to hold their lair available for them for five days after they escape or are released. BUT, since also I happen to know that they're cash poor and all of their accounts have been frozen…"

"Then name your price and be done with it." the armored man had growled irritably. "You know I will outbid anyone for that spot."

Shego had suppressed a scowl on hearing that. Dr. Director had never placed an absolute cap on her spending limit, but it sounded like the amount of cash that Hench would be asking for was going to be astronomical. If the 'new' villain was able to walk in and pay those kind of inflated rates, Sapph-Fire was going to be subjected to a lot more scrutiny… more than her cover story might bear. How much could she dare bid, in good judgment?

Then her thoughts about dollars and sense had been suddenly interrupted by the next bombshell that fell from Hench's lips.

"I can't," Hench had been protesting. "This is America, not Latveria, so I have to go through the pretense of following our own written policies… however…" Hench's voice had dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "I could give you the information you need to know to… make sure that they're eliminated from the equation, so to speak, and put you in possession of the property."

"And possession," He'd added slyly, "Is nine tenths of the law. Even in America,"

That had stunned Shego. It wasn't that she was surprised that he would screw some of his regulars over for a high roller… she'd never known Jack Hench to give up an opportunity to make a dime… but she'd never expected that he would actually set one of his own clients up for axing by another. Fortunately, this was all being recorded by the DTR in her left shoe, so Shego had no doubt that at some point in the future that little bit of audio was going to cause quite a lot of grief for Hench. Unfortunately for whoever the targets were, whatever info he'd given metalhead as to their identities and location had apparently been on a piece of paper, because the other man's deep rasping voice had simply said:

"Understood. I imagine we'll be talking again tomorrow."

"I imagine we shall, your Excellency," Hench was grinning as he ushered the walking museum display out the same hidden door, before coming back down the hall, turning to the butterfly-clad man and snapping "Next!"

Shego had barely let Hench's conversation with the moth guy skim over the top of her brain, though it was impossible to completely ignore his constant moaning and kvetching at the injustice he was receiving. Never mind that he was essentially receiving the same song and dance that the brain and wolf guys had received. Whoever Mister Moth-face was, he had a vastly exaggerated concept of his position in the world… and even though Hench had basically been snowballing him, Shego had to admit that it had been done in a very congenial manner. No one who hadn't heard the previous conversation would have thought anything out of the ordinary was going on.

"Next!" snapped Hench and the next victim… er, villain… got up and walked into his office. Some idiot wearing a giant gold cobrahead and carrying a cobrastaff. Even in her current mental flux, she had to wonder how could possibly be practical? Where did these people get these ideas for costumes? Shego looked at the number in her own hand, number 12, and grimaced. It was clear that everyone else was going to get the blow off as well, but if she just got up and left now, people would wonder why… and that led to the possibility that some question would be asked that might end up blowing her cover. That would be bad. At the same time, there was also a chance that if she did leave now, and reported what she'd already heard back to Dr. Director right now, some analyst at GJ might be able to figure out who it was that Hench was setting up and at least prevent a couple of murders…

"Damnit!" A voice broke into her chain of thought. "We broke out of Arkham for this?"

Shego looked up to see that it was one of the villains setting across the hallway from her, whispered abruptly. "I ain't got two pennies to rub together, do you?"

"He has to give us five days," the person to whom the whispered question had been addressed to spoke softly and reassuringly, rubbing the other's hand with a caressing motion… and immediately Shego was all ears.

Well, all ears and barely restrained bulging eyes, actually, as she put two and two together. Someone, she thought, in the GJ profiling section was going to be in for a bit of overtime when she filed her report, because the news that THOSE two were working together hadn't been on the briefing sheets she'd gone over just this morning. Not that it could remain a secret for long, given that they obviously weren't just worki…

Holy crap. Suddenly everything clicked and she knew who was being set up and why. Yes, THAT particular local player was crazy enough that anything that calmed him down might be worth it to Hench. At least Dr. Doom would be neat about it. The Joker… who knew what that psycho might attempt?

And with that realization, an entirely new plan fell into place. Betty was probably going to freak but… oh yes! This was going to be FUN!

"Excuse me," 'Sapph-Fire' addressed the mismatched pair across the aisle with a broad smile, having crossed the hall so fast it might have appeared that she'd teleported. "If you have a minute, I have a business proposition I think you'll be interested in."

Blinking in surprise, the two women across from her stared back in astonishment. You didn't approach supervillains like this… It just wasn't done… and yet…

"Well," The one with the heavy makeup turned to her partner and nodded thoughtfully… "She IS wearing a Harley jacket… That ought to count for something. Right?"

"Exactly… what kind of proposal?" Poison Ivy asked warily, possessively holding Harley Quinn's hand in her own.

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Triggering the remote release on the Bat-Grapple, Kim performed a faultless quadruple flip in mid air, hovering almost weightless six hundred feet above the streets of Gotham as she utilized her own spin to extend the magic split second before inertia forward and upward began to be canceled by gravity. Her mind counted off the time with metronome-like precision… 3… 2…1… and her ear was rewarded with the click and ping that announced that the cable was both fully retracted and re-armed for firing again. Then, just as she started to fall, she fired the Grapple again, aiming at the thin steel rails that supported the giant neon sign atop the Gotham Utility Light Power building below and flying forward as the line went taut, swinging her forward again in a manner that was a bit more Spiderman-esque than proper Bat-style dictated. But it was effective, which was the point she was trying to make.

A quick thumb-flick and the reel on the Grappler spun furiously in the opposite direction as it gobbled back down the cable it had just extruded, pacing her rate of fall to bring her into a smooth arc that dropped her to the roof of the shorter, adjacent United Export building.

"Easy!" She gloated smugly as she coasted in for a perfect two-point landing, the hooks disengaging with a simple flick of the wrist and retracting back into the main body of the grappler. She'd taken a glance back in the middle of one of her last swings to see if she could see Nightwing behind her, using the reflective sides of the Power Tower as an improvised rear view mirror, and since her supposed guide was barely a speck on the horizon behind her, it would probably be a good idea to sit and wait for him to catch up. Unable to completely stop moving while the adrenaline was still pumping through her system, however, she decided to squeeze in a few aerobics, which had the additional benefit of helping keep her warm in the chill Gotham night air.

Kim was a good three minutes into her routine when her pursuer finally caught up, breathing just a bit too heavily for the cool demeanor he was trying to project. She wasn't quite sure what to make of Nightwing yet… at times he seemed carry a bigger cloud of gloom around him than Batman himself, at others he was like a big brother… unlike the Dark One who seemed to be stuck in glower mode every time Kim had to train with him.

That, however, had proved to occur far less frequently than Kim had expected, especially since the senior Bat-statesman had originally seemed rather insistent about taking her out to 'show her the ropes' personally. Once it had become blatantly obvious that she could already loop rings around him using the archaic bat-a-rang and bat-grapple system the Dark Knight had apparently been using since his cape was a security blanket, the grim, taciturn hero had mumbled something about 'youthful energy' and turned her over to the others, charging the slightly-less grim, slightly less taciturn Nightwing with helping her 'learn the lay about of the city.'

Personally, Kim felt she'd probably learned a lot more of importance in watching the interaction of the two heroes… who clearly had a lot of issues… than she had in the subsequent tour of Gotham's back alleys, sewers and red light districts. Though she had to admit, the red light district HAD been a bit eye opening as well. Wow. Middleton had NOTHING like that! The night could have been quite… well, informative was probably the right word… had Nightwing not scooted her right past, though his professed show about 'never going there' was an obvious sham.

She'd have to ask Robin if he knew what Nightwing was hiding. Although he was years behind his teammates in terms of fighting and technical skills, Kim had quickly learned that the young man in the green pants and yellow cape was the person to go to when she needed information that made sense of the bizarre string of relationships that theoretically held the Bat Clan together. That was something that she was increasingly grateful for given how the others all seemed to want to dance around each new bit of scuttlebutt she encountered… it was uncomfortably like that one Stoppable family reunion that Ron had talked her into attending during the period where they were still an item. Though if the Stoppables had a lot of unspoken secrets and skeletons in their closets, the Bats had libraries and mausoleums. Probably where the inspiration for the bat motif had come from in the first place.

"Are you sure you don't take some kind of performance enhancing drugs?" The tall, angular young man scowled as he walked up beside her, still catching his breath. "Or have Amazonian DNA?"

"Just clean living and the power of positive thinking," Kim returned, never interrupting her workout. "And maybe a little help from Wade's 'toys.'"

"Yeah, you've sold ME," Nightwing's face looked like he was trying to hold back a grin, as the 'grimace' he was trying to keep on his face kept trying to twitch upwards on both ends. "But if you want to do yourself a favor, try not to gloat on that too much in the old man's presence."

Kim ignored him, allowing a very smug smile to stretch from ear to ear. It had quickly become obvious to her that her own equipment… hastily remodeled in full Bat-mode by a hero worshiping Wade… was, in general, noticeably superior to most of the current Bat-arsenal. Her grapplegun, now in a much slimmer black housing with a Bat-emblem on the side, was capable of a greater distance and had a faster rewind than the official Bat-Grapples, and the Bat-Team didn't have anything to compare with her lipstick laser or the newly renamed 'Batmunicator.' However, when she'd passed on Wade's offer to produce similar gear for the rest of the team, Batman's reaction had been… well, it had been odd. You'd have thought he manufactured his bat-gear himself, rather than farming it out to a division of Wayne Industries, and was embarrassed at being offered a better product by a kid who was just entering his teens and built everything in his bedroom.

"Which just goes to prove, Wade" She thought as she finished her exercises and stood to face Nightwing. "You STILL rock!"

"So, in your expert opinion," She asked slyly. "Am I ready?"

"Skills-wise?" Nightwing gave the impression of lilting one eyebrow behind his mask. "To be honest, you could probably kick my ass. But characterization wise, you still need to watch yours."

"Ah, yes, that…" Kim sighed. That had ended up being the most difficult part of her "training.' She had to be able to pass for Batgirl even around those who knew the crimefighter, so they'd fit her with fake boobs, elevator heels that subtly added an extra inch to her height and a vocoder patch on her throat to drop the register of her own voice to closely match Batgirl's normal tones… but even with all that, it was apparently obvious to the others that something was missing, and it had been Nightwing who had put his finger on it.

"It's your, um, rear-end," he'd uncharacteristically blushed. "Batgirl sways when she walks and you just…"

"I just what?" Kim had asked in a deceptively soft tone that Ron Stoppable would have recognized as a cue to start running.

"Well, you kinda walk like…," Nightwing flushed, then started over. "Bar… Batgirl slinks and sways, where you… I mean… Oh hell, let's look at some tapes."

Embarassingly enough, he'd been dead on in his assessment. She'd initially thought he was just abnormally focused on her ass, but when they'd gone back and looked at video of the real Batgirl, she DID have an exaggerated sway to her hips. On the other hand, Kim had never realized that she, herself, had a very determined, forceful forward walk and barely moved her hips at all.

In other words, Kim Possible walked like a tomboy, Batgirl walked like a sex goddess.

As a result, she'd ended up spending quite a bit of time watching tapes of Batgirl… both in action and simply walking around… all the while attempting to emulate the same physicality of her Gotham counterpart. It had been a lot harder than she'd expected it to be… trying to keep the motion from the tape in mind at all times… but then she'd made her big breakthrough when, ironically, she'd finally realized the similarity of Batgirl's swaying hip motion to that of her own former foe, Shego. Keeping how Shego moved in mind was a lot easier, and while Nightwing was still rather particular about it, neither Robin or The Bat… as Robin and Batgirl apparently referred to their elder partner when he wasn't within earshot… could tell the difference.

"I'll keep working on it," Kim promised with a smirk, turning and walking away with an exaggerated hip thrust.

"Better?" She tossed back over her shoulder.

"Uh… yeah," Nightwing gurgled, the giant red letters reading GULP across the top of the roof behind him effectively summing up his reaction. "I uh… I've got someplace I need to be. So… um… you know how to get home, right?"

"My hotel's right over there," Kim pouted, motioning northwards to the Wayne Residential Suites they'd put her up in. "But I need to get switched over to staying up all night, so it's kinda early to be going back to that cold little bed. Couldn't we…?"

"No," Nightwing's head bobbed. "I really have to be someplace. So uh…" It was as if a switch was suddenly pulled inside him as he made an abrupt decision. "You know what? You're good."

Kim made the little hand on cocked hip gesture that took the place of an eyebrow raise while in bat-costume.

"I mean, as in there's nothing else I can show you," Nightwing continued rapidly. "I'll tell Br…Batman in the morning, but if you want to go on solo and work off some of that tension, it'll be fine."

"Well… if you're sure…" Kim slowly turned the pout up another twenty degrees… not the old school puppy dog pout, but a new variant she'd been developing while dating Ron, followed by a deep sad sigh. "I suppose I can find something to do." A VERY deep, sad, breathy and lonely sigh. "I CAN do anything, you know."

"Gotta Go!" Nightwing blurted. "If you need anything, call Batman, he's got the late, late shift!"

Kim held back the giggles in as Nightwing somehow managed to keep from killing himself as he flung his bat-rope off into the night. She knew she was being horrifically wicked, but she had a feeling that finding ways to phase the supposedly unflappable Nightwing could become her new hobby. Of course, HE didn't know that SHE knew exactly where he was going.

Though all involved had initially denied that there was anything going on now, at one point, Batgirl had confided that she and Nightwing's "real" identities had dated, but that it had fallen apart once they discovered who each other's secret crime fighting identity was… a concept that just hurt Kim's head to think about but that was apparently not unheard of in the big G. Of course, knowing that HAD explained why they had put Nightwing in charge of coaching her to move like Batgirl, but the level of… knowledge… Nightwing had about the real dynamic damsel betrayed that he was still a man deeply besotted; and it hadn't taken Kim long to figure out that Batgirl felt the same way BUT there were issues with Batman, who had apparently also been... well… it was all really quite a soap opera.

The end result, though, was that while Kim WOULD be going back to a 'cold little bed,' Nightwing was on his way back to as much action as was possible while one of the parties involved had her leg in a cast. What made everything just a little wrongsick was that he also clearly had some hang-ups involving the batsuits themselves; as in when Nightwing was watching Kim, she got the impression that he was sometimes slipping into thinking about the real article and trying desperately not to get the two confused. That opened up a whole series of possibilities that, in retrospect, made Kim REALLY hope that the suit that she had inherited had never been used before. Because, like… ew!

Then again, she thought as she caught her reflection in a sheet of mirrored plate glass. Maybe it WASN'T just the suit that was messing with Nightwing's mind. While there were obvious downsides to this gig, there were definitely some perks as well, and right at the top of the list were some of the reevaluations it had forced Kim to make about herself. After years of thinking of herself 'just an average girl,' it had come as a bit of a shock for Kim to make the sudden discovery that when poured into the iconic Bat-Costume, she was anything but average. She was, in fact, what could only be described as totally smokingly hot.

"Not bad, Possible," she thought with a wolfish grin, admiring the way the skin-tight black outfit hugged curves that the young hero hadn't been aware she had just a few days ago. "Not bad at all."

Oh, granted, the realistically jiggly silicone inserts that took her breasts from a modest B to a full C weren't hers, but it wasn't something that an uber-bra couldn't give her the appearance of, and she had plans to buy more than a few of those when she went back to being plain old Kim. And, on the flip side, the fact that her single greatest natural asset, her flaming red hair, was dulled down under a temporary die that better matched the real Batgirl's hair tone certainly should be allowed to balance some of that out. In fact, suddenly having to deal with the 'extra breadth' upstairs was doing a lot to minimize her long fixation on larger breasts… she'd been surprised to find out how inconvenient they were turning out to be… the first time she'd gotten a lift in the Batmobile, she though Robin was going to have a… something… watching her attempt to find a comfortable way to wear the seatbelts.

(Yes, the Batmobile had seat belts, which wasn't quite as bizarre as discovering that Batman was a compulsive "Is everyone buckled up?"-er.)

In any case, NOT focusing on her personal lack of boobage had finally drawn Kim's attentions to the rest of her body, and the completely revealing nature of her BatTights had finally made her notice that the genes she'd her inherited from her mom combined with years of exercise had combined to create what she was willing to admit was one of the finest asses she had ever seen. Showcased in the skin-tight BatSuit, it was such a stunning change that she found it hard to swing past a reflective surface without giving herself an approving look.

"Yep, the tights definitely show off my better assets," Kim thought. "I'd definitely do me in a second."

She stopped, suddenly, realizing what she'd just thought. That was a MOST un-Kim-Posssible-like thought. And if she was going to be honest with herself, she'd been having a LOT of un-Kim moments over the last few days, all of which led her to wonder whether, in the process of burying her "Kimness" inside the alternate identity that she'd chosen to think of as Bat-Kim, she'd subconsciously re-opened bridges to aspects of her own personality that had previously been buried. In a way, that thought was kind of disturbing… and yet, at the same time, just a little bit exciting.

Okay, it was a LOT exciting. This dual identity stuff was like going to a shrink without the guidance/advice part, and if being Batgirl didn't get her enough excitement at night, maybe there was yet another aspect of 'Kim' who could find something interesting to do here in Gotham…

She was just wondering why so many superheroes went the "dark, angsty, introspective" route when the first explosion lit up the sky…

To Be Continued…

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Holy Bat-Legal stuff: Kim Possible, Shego, Dr. Betty Director, Jack Hench, Wade Load, Ron Stoppable and all other characters from the wonderful KP Universe are the creations of Mark McCorkle and Bob Schooley, and those names are all trademarks of the Disney media organizations. Batman, Batgirl, Nightwing, Robin, the Joker, the Penguiin, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, The Riddler and Two-Face are all property of DC Comics and Time Warner Communications. Dr. Doom was created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and is the property of Marvel Comics. Oh, and those other villains? I'd be curious to see who actually recognized them (and their source series) before I post it. If you have a guess or just magically KNOW the answer,'cause you're like all psychic and stuff, pop it in a review, okay? All use should be considered fair under current parody law, and is not for profit in any case. Finally, this story takes place at a time at which all characters shown should be considered to be over the legal age of 18.