Part Three of Twenty Seven Point Six
Batman frowned. "I don't think I can do that."
Shayera turned to look at him. "Do you want to impress her or
not?"
"I want to maintain my dignity while impressing
her."
Shayera snorted. "We wear tights in public, genius. So just try
it. I hear it drives all the girls outside of America nuts." She added under
her breath, so quietly that he didn't hear her. "Or, at least it used to. Back in the day."
And Diana did grow up outside of America, she
thought.
Batman glowered for a moment, then
took a deep breath, spun around, grabbing his crotch and bending his knees so
that he was poised on his toes. "Ow!" he
said.
"No! You sound like you hurt yourself." Shayera did the move, ended on Ow!
and said, "See? It has to be done so that the Ow! is more like a funky cry. Use
the same type of breath and effort you would with a karate kick. But instead of
Hi-Yah! it is Ow!"
"I don't make noises when I kick," Batman said.
"That would hardly help me sneak up on anyone."
Shayera rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She pulled a CD from
her shelf.
Batman grimaced. He'd known he'd seen that move she'd
shown him somewhere. On the front cover of the jewel case, a man in leather
clothing glared out at his audience. Red letters across the front declared that
he was 'Bad'.
Somehow, although many women seemed to be attracted to
bad boys, he didn't think that song would do anything for Diana.
"I don't want to sing that I'm 'bad'. She thinks
that I'm a jerk right now, I don't want to confirm her current opinion."
Shayera gave him a withering glance. "I know that. So I chose a
song that had her name in it – nothing is better than a guy who seems to sing
directly to, and for, a specific woman."
"It's a song about a woman named Diana?"
"Yes," Hawkgirl said,
slipping the CD into the player. She threw the sleeve with the lyrics at
Batman. "Now sing along. It's track number nine."
He flipped through the small booklet as the heavy,
throbbing music started. The singer had already begun when he finally found the
tiny lines of the song, and he rushed to catch up to him, began automatically
reading the words without really registering their meaning.
"No!" Shayera shouted
over the music. "Sing, don't read!"
Batman gave her a Batglare, but
complied, beginning in the middle of the first verse:
I've Been Here
Times Before
But I Was Too Blind To See
That You Seduce Every Man
This Time You Won't Seduce Me
"Uh, isn't this exactly the opposite of the message
I want to give her? And insulting as well?" Batman wondered.
"Shut up! Sing!"
A Batglower, but he sang.
She's Saying That's
Ok
Hey Baby Do What You Please
I Have The Stuff That You Want
I Am The Thing That You Need
She Looked Me Deep In The Eyes
She's Touchin' Me So To Start
She Says There's No Turnin'
Back
She Trapped Me In Her Heart
Well, maybe it isn't so bad, Batman thought. Looking into
eyes, touching, hearts – that was all kind of feminine and mushy, even if the
beat of the music wasn't romantic at all. He sang the next part.
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, Nah
Dirty Diana, No
Dirty Diana
Let Me Be!
Batman stopped. Glowered at Shayera,
who was giggling uncontrollably.
She wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" She
laughed harder. "I couldn't resist!"
"Those tickets to the Riviera are slipping away, fast," he
growled.
She slowly controlled her giggles. "There's another
song on the CD that might work – it's called 'Liberian Girl', but you could easily
change it to 'Themyscirian Girl'."
Batman flipped a page over, read the lyrics.
"Liberian girl, you came and you changed my world, a love so brand
new." He paused, then used Shayera's
suggestion. "Themyscirian girl, you came and you
changed me girl, a feeling so true." He skipped down the song, muttering.
"…more precious than any pearl…just like in the movies…"
He threw the sleeve down on the desk.
"I can't sing that garbage." He added, "And I'm not going
to spin around and grab my crotch, either."
Shayera gave him a hard stare. "But you will dance. And you will
sing."
He began to stare back at her, then
remembered that it was futile. "Yes," he gritted out.
"Okay, so you are too manly for a cheesy love
song," Shayera said, tapping her teeth with a
fingernail as she thought.
"That's right," he muttered. Manly.
Bat-manly.
"And your problem is that you insulted Superman. So
we need some way to let Diana know that you really aren't an ass, and that you
appreciate Superman."
"Those are, indeed, the facts. Your detective skills
continue to astound me," he said.
She glanced at him witheringly, then walked back over to
her shelf of music, pulled out another CD and tossed it to him.
He read the name of the group, frowned. "Are we
going to have to use and/or ruin the Batmobile for
this?"
TO BE CONTINUED
