The Code
by Te
August 26, 2011

Disclaimers: No one and nothing here is mine.

Spoilers/Timeline: Vague references to assorted older storylines. Takes place sometime well before the end of Cass' run as Batgirl. *shudders delicately*

Summary: Batgirl vs. Batman! Battle Royale -- Teland style! *koff*

Ratings Note/Warnings: Sexual content which may or may not dovetail with the content some readers may or may not find disturbing. Look, I don't even know anymore.

Author's Note: A commission for the lovely and generous Sarah! Hope you like it, honey. <3

Acknowledgments: With much love to Pixie, Mildred, Jack, and ShadowValkyrie, all of whom gave me audiencing, encouragement, screams, and helpful suggestions.

Length: 7,000 words.


You know want. This is what happens when you don't sleep, and don't sleep, and grip for something that is nowhere near.

You know desire. This is what happens when your body moves and doesn't move, when your stillness is as taut and tense as a poorly-held ready-position.

You know hunger. This --

You know hunger.

You know *lust* --

Barbara explained this with video of Dick tumbling his joy and Bruce working, working, *working* his determination --

Barbara explained it with the shift of her shoulders, the narrowing of her eyes, the tight *purse* of her mouth --

Barbara's mouth explains many, many things.

The fact that you already knew *this* thing does not mean you didn't appreciate it.


You go to the other Cave -- the *full* Cave -- because you want to explain what you know to Bruce.

He smiles when he sees you, eyes widening with pleasure-hope-curiosity --

And then he stops smiling, and hunches in on himself like Batman --

He is not truly Batman.

You hit him multiple times, but he does not stop lying.

You go home.


You go to the Clocktower the next day, and Barbara asks you with her eyebrows what happened.

You point to your heart.

Her questions get sharper.

You point to your genitals *vehemently* --

And she winces and nods.

She holds up a finger, and shows you video of Dick longing after Bruce's back --

And Tim bundling in and in and *in* on himself as if he could make himself smaller --

And the other Barbara -- young and lithe and happy, so happy --

Except that she isn't happy, at all. She's angry and frustrated and *hurt* -- and Bruce is pretending not to see her.

Bruce was pretending every time.

You tell her this, and she blinks slowly... but she is not surprised.


You go to the other Cave when you know he won't be there, and you break Jason free of the Case. His scent is surprising to you -- sharp and fresh -- and you realize that, somewhere, Bruce keeps many of his clothes out of the air.

You are ashamed of yourself for being surprised, but it isn't the time for that.

You pull on his terrible uniform, and it hangs loose everywhere save around your hips, where it fits perfectly. You feel cold, and unprotected, and you wonder if Bruce is really as crazy as he seems.

You think he might be, but you know you could be wrong. *He* knows many things you still don't.

You go to the heavy bag with its years of bloodstains and sweat --

You know *lust* --

You work the bag, focusing on your upper body, your punches and strikes --

The punches and strikes Barbara has shown you in the playroom --

The punches and strikes Dick showed you when you asked --

You don't stop when you hear him on the stairs.

You don't pause when you hear him growl.

You do not pause when he only stares at you, when he tries to fill you with forbidding and fear and shame --

You toss your head, and jut your chin the way Steph would --

You watch him clench his hands into fists and you know he wants the suit, the cowl --

"You're not Batman."

He takes a sharp breath -- but he does not blink. "You're not Robin," he says, and walks back up the stairs.

Away from you.

You take Jason off, but you do not force him away again.

You'd left the Case in pieces anyway.


You go to Blüdhaven, and Dick hugs you, and pets you, and smiles smiles smiles.

He plays with you the way Steph does.

He puts books in your hands the way Tim does, but then forgets what he's doing and tickles you, instead.

You tickle him back.

He kisses you, warm and soft and hungry-not-hungry --

He blushes.


"Um. Sometimes?" He laughs then, but he doesn't mean it. He uses his hair to cover his face.

He hunches like Tim.

You tickle him until he stops, and then you go out together and hurt many, many people.

He kisses you again before you go.


You go to the other Cave, and Bruce looks at you warily until you show him your fear, and your need for him to hold you, and your need for him to love you.

He catches his breath.

He lifts his arms -- they shake.

You run to him like Dick and press close, so close --

"Of course. Of course you can always --" He makes a soft sound and holds you, and strokes your hair, and your back.

"Miss you."

"I'm." He swallows. "I'm here."

"*Miss* you."

"Cassandra --"

You look up into his eyes, and he stops like you've struck his solar plexus. He is worried, and hungry.

He is --

"You think you're not good enough."

He smiles and it hurts -- you can feel it in your cheek and in the muscles of your neck.

"You think you *can't*."

He nods, and it's as if you've struck him again. And then he pulls away from you, and gestures to the mats.

He teaches you four new strikes -- none of which you'll be allowed to use with most opponents. Humans are too fragile.

You teach him three new kicks, but he is only flexible enough for one, even after you massage him for thirty minutes.

He smiles hurt at you again, but it's happy hurt. *Amused* hurt.

Tim would say 'rueful' and mean something which has shame.

You sweep Bruce's legs out from under him and straddle his hips, then thump his chest the way you always do when he's being very slow.

He squeezes his eyes shut, and his shoulders say 'no' and his hands say 'please' and his mouth --

"I love you, Cassandra."

You hear yourself make a sound you don't know the meaning of --

And when he opens his eyes, you know you won't get what you need.


You climb in Tim's window --

You duck the three shuriken --

You dodge the staff-strike --

"Oh! You. Ah. Yes?"

He's really saying 'what why *why*,' so you stay still, and calm, and *still*.

He relaxes, and tucks his knife back into the sheath taped to his back.

And collapses the staff.

He *starts* to reach for the shuriken in the windowsill -- and then he raises an eyebrow and smiles with happy-amused-shameful hurt.

You hand him the shuriken.

"Thank you. But... ah?"

"Bruce," you say, because Tim hates to waste time almost as much as you do. You point to your genitals.

Sometimes, Tim looks like a very scared cat. This is one of those times. This --

You frown. "*Bruce*."

"Oh. Oh! Well. I'm honestly not sure."

When Tim says 'honestly,' he's usually lying. You glare at him.

"I mean! You know *I* haven't. And Dick --"

"And Barbara. And Steph."

"Yes. So you see --"

"Being Jason didn't work."

Tim blinks again -- and winces. "Yes, I -- I have to admit I've tried that."


"It's..." Tim tells you not to pay attention with a wave of his hand, but his shoulders say he's going to be honest. "Sometimes I used to feel... different. From how I am. It still didn't work."

You nod slowly. Tim likes being other people very much.

"I..." He reaches out. "I understand? I don't mean that to be a question --"

"Yes you do."

"I -- oh. Oh. Hm."

You hug him then, because you understand it when Barbara smiles like a predator sometimes, and because Tim sometimes needs to be reminded --

Tim hugs you back. "I wish you the best of luck. I mean that."

"I know."

He breathes relief. *He* didn't know.

He almost never does.


You go to Steph's house instead of the Cave the next day, and she blushes like Dick and uses a lot of words instead of saying anything until you grip her shoulders and *look* at her.

"Oh -- God. I --" She kisses you then, and it's not like anyone else, at all, and she's warm, and she's soft.

She says a lot more words, but all of them mean 'I like you I like you what are we doing I like you DON'T STOP!'

You don't stop.

After, you lie together on her bed, and you tell her stories about all the heroes on her wall. You haven't met most of them, but it's clear enough what they're saying in the pictures.

She sighs and tries and fails to braid your hair.

You try and fail to braid hers.

"But -- *why*?"


"Oh, *Cass* --"

"Not with you. With *Bruce*."

"Um. I'm not supposed to know that --"

You pinch her thigh --

"Ow ow ow! Okay! I know! What about the big freak?"

You point to your genitals.

She stares at you.

She stares *angrily* at you -- but she also shrinks inside.

"No. No --"

"Um -- but you -- and we just --"

"Want *both*. Want *more*."

"I -- oh. *Seriously*? Like -- you're a ho?"

You look *frustration* at her.

"Hey, I have to *ask*!"


"Because we're *dating* now, Cass!"

You blink.

She punches you.

"We'll go... out?"

"Um. Maybe?" She punches you again, and this time she wants you to tell her something that makes sense.

"I love you."

She smiles, and it's brighter than her hair, and softer than her eyes, and because she knows you she doesn't say anything with her mouth.

Until she uses her lips and teeth.

After that, she throws herself back on the bed with a sigh, and she wriggles, and she kicks her panties off her ankle. "So I think you should just -- straight jump on his dick."

"He's too fast."

"Faster than *you*?"

"Would bruise him."


You shake your head, and let your hand flop.

Everything of her body screams disgust at Bruce, and possibly all other men.

You nod.

"Okay, so -- strategy."

"Tried being Jason."

"Oh -- he -- *really*? I mean -- the two of them?"

"Yes. Lots."

She turns to look at her poster of Jason, and when she means 'rueful,' she never means 'shame.' "What's he thinking?"

"'Hurt you. Hurt you bad.'"

She nods and it means she's thinking-wanting-missing -- "Tim says Batman had to pull him off the photographer."

You nod. This makes sense.

"And... I don't know," she says, and turns to look at you. "Are you sure he's *worth* it? I mean. He's all -- you know."

"Yes. He lies lots."

"See, this is my point --"

"He can't lie to me."

She blushes and it means there are secret things, touch things, warm things --

You crawl close and tell her you love her in every way you can think of.


You go to the other Cave, and this time you bring your favorite clothes, and the soft Batgirl doll Steph gave you, and the music CDs Tim gave you, and the pie Clark gave you last night that you couldn't finish.

Clark gives you food often. It always means 'like you' and 'I'm here' and 'I'm here and would like to touch you.'

Clark is a better liar than Bruce is, though, and sometimes that makes you worried.

Bruce looks wariness into you, but more hope. He wants you here.

You knew that with the top of you, but not with the bottom. Cain would hurt you for that mistake --

You don't have to think of him. Not ever if you don't want to.

You put the CDs near the stereo you know used to belong to Dick.

You put the pie on the big table.

You *start* to put your clothes and the doll near the extra gurney, but Bruce cups your elbow and nods toward the stairs.

This is something else you didn't know.

This is -- this is hurt, but not bad hurt. This is *soft* hurt, the way Steph had cried after you gave her a fourth orgasm.

The way you had when she gave you your first.

You push all of that at Bruce, as much as you can. You *push* -- and you let him guide you up the stairs.

You've been here before, and you know the room which isn't Dick's anymore, and the room which isn't Tim's, and the room which probably wasn't Jason's even when he was alive.

He takes you to another room, and it's full of painted flowers and mirrors. The bed has lace all around it.

You look at him.

He coughs, and takes you to a different room.

This one is darker, but also warmer. The pictures on the wall are all of things happening underwater, and the bed is big and firm. You bounce on it.

He smiles a question at you.

You reach for him.

"You'd... like for me to bounce?"

You nod and give him your impatience, your need for just *this* --

"Dick. Dick would..." He swallows and toes off his shoes, and his arms miss Dick very, very much, and his hands want to be on you, and his mouth --

He *moves*, and he is faster than himself -- but not faster than you.

His moan when he kisses you is surprised, mournful, *deep* --

His body on you is so hard so big so much --

You wish he had Steph's hair, even though he would look very silly. As it is, you can't get enough of a grip, and he pulls away too soon --

"Cassandra. I -- I'm sorry --"

"No," you say, and bite his jaw where the hair grows in too thick for his straight razors --

"Jay. Jay. He -- "

You bite him harder --

And he bites you back. Your ears, and your cheek. Your throat and your lower lip. He pauses there, and his eyes are full of hurt and need and pleading, so much pleading.

He looks at you like you've denied him for years.

A part of you knows what he means. The rest of you pulls back and flips him onto his back. You kiss him the way Dick had kissed you, only without the giggles and the sorry-whoops-sorry.

He grunts and strokes you all over, and grips your hips.

You show him Tim's fear and violence --

"Oh -- *please*," and his hands say it again as they stroke you, and he's warm, so *warm* --

You have to *move*, and he only stops you a little, only stops you to better *feel* you --

His clothes are so *soft* -- too soft.

You tear them away and he grunts, laughs --

You think his eyebrows are talking about Clark.

You jut your chin like Steph again --

"Beautiful, so -- I watched..."

You know that and tell him so with your hand on his penis --

He groans and throws his head back -- "She... both of you."

You give him her giggle -- the one that means she wants to punch you and be punched in return --

And he grips your shoulders and *pushes* into your fist --

You knew this, too.

You will teach him to do better, but first you'll do this. You stroke him with your hunger, with your impatience --

"It can never be only -- only *touch* --"

"Never only touch," you say, and squeeze him like a pinch --

He growls and his eyes say more, say danger, say 'dare me.'

You smile the way Jason did in the videos --


And you gasp, and you do it again because you can't help it, and your face is hot and your genitals ache, your lips and your clitoris --

You feel like you have a pussy, the way Steph would say it, and hers was pink and swollen every time you touched it.

You feel very swollen, and very pink inside. You --

"Beautiful girl," and Bruce means 'please,' and 'faster.'

You shake your head and move to tear your own clothes away --

He uses *all* of his speed to flip you again, to pin you --

You *growl* and move to drive your heel into his Achilles tendon --

"Alfred rather likes you in this dress. And so do I," he says, and his eyebrows invite you to share the joke --

You *ache* too much to laugh --

"Oh... my love," and he strips you quickly and gently. You hadn't bothered with the panties -- you don't like the way they make your hair tangle -- and Bruce moans when he looks at you there, moans and strokes your hair and means 'I love you I miss you so beautiful.'

You thump him to make him hurry --

"Of course," he says, and he kisses your mound, and he tugs gently on your labia with his teeth --

And he looks at you, into you --

The question is hard to answer. You want him to do everything, touch you in all the ways --

"I *hurt*," you say, and you want him to understand, to already *know* everything, to already have *touched* you in all the ways --

"It's all right," he says, and 'I'm sorry,' and he spreads you wide and licks you, nuzzles you and groans --

Nuzzles you and *groans* --

You scratch his scalp -- no.

You scratch his ears, because they're more sensitive --

And he nods and pushes his tongue inside your vagina. When you'd done this to Steph, she drummed her heels on the bed and everything in her was 'don't STOP.'

When she'd done this to you, she'd giggled and you'd giggled and you'd needed *fingers* --

You thought you'd always need *fingers* --

But this. Is it because his tongue is bigger?

Does it feel warmer?

What's it *saying*?

You don't know, but it makes you shiver and squeeze-squeeze, and it makes you shiver more, and you're scratching and petting his scalp, and the noises you're making are loud, confused, hungry --

You don't want him to *stop* --

And when he opens his eyes to look at you --

When he *sees* you and the light behind his eyes *flares* --

When he grips your thighs and pushes them wide, so wide --

You know that he understands. You --

You let yourself fall back so you can feel, and you close your eyes, and you move the way he wants you to move, you sweat the way you both want you to sweat --

You cry out --

He clutches you like it's the perfect thing, and so even though the Cain who won't ever go away is pointing a gun at you --

Even though it's not *allowed* --

You open your mouth and cry out, and gasp, and you say Bruce's name, all of his names --

You only stop yourself when *he* starts moaning -- but that doesn't last, at all.

His sounds vibrate, and his body shakes the bed, and everything is shaking you, everything is lifting you up and *shaking* you --

You reach up and up and you don't know what you want to *grasp* --

And then it's there, just like it was with Steph, and you cry out the way even Cain did when there was a woman, when it was the *end* --

And then you cry out the way you want to, smiling and writhing and purring inside, sparking and *purring* --

And Bruce doesn't stop --

And Bruce moans *more*, laps at your vagina and your urethra and your clitoris --

Bruce *nuzzles* you, and it's your pussy, and you must be pretty like Steph, you feel so --

But you want more. You push Bruce aside and then yank him further up the bed --

His smile is *sticky* --

You lick him and hold him, scratch at the scars he puts in your hands' path --

And then you kiss his smile with your smile, teeth bumping and lips stretched and your breath tastes like sour cherry from the pie and *his* breath tastes like you --

His eyebrows are talking about Clark again, and there's *something* you want to know about that, there is, but mostly you want him inside you. You *look* at him --

"Tell me. Please."

You look at him *harder* --

And his smile is rueful-with-shame, but it has nothing to do with her. Or...


"I want you to speak. It is... a kink."

You narrow your eyes at him, because --

"I also wish to help you improve --"

"No *lesson*!"

He leans in and licks your upper lip, and the bridge of your nose, and the shell of your right ear --

He does it until you *giggle* --

"I promise," he says with his mouth, "to make the lessons enjoyable."

His body makes the promise a threat. You can't tell whether he wants it to be or not. Right now it doesn't matter. You nod and open your mouth -- "*Inside*."

He licks his lips, and his eyelids tell you that he loves your taste, that he wants more -- "*Which*."

This is a good question -- and maybe a *Robin* question -- but your vagina is yelling-yelling -- "Vagina," you say, enunciating --

He shivers --

He kisses you, and it's very wet, very --

He's moaning and clutching your shoulders, your hips --

He clutches your waist and bites your lip -- "So --" He growls, and you know he's stopped himself from saying something which shames him, but you can't tell which --

You thump him like Steph would --

"*Cassandra* --"

"*You* speak, too."

He shivers again, and rolls you onto your back again. He licks your nipples --

You grip his ears and *twist* --

Bruce grunts and looks up, smiling pleasure-hurt -- "You're very small."

You frown at him and prepare to twist again --

And his smile turns dark, dare-me, hurt-me -- "Very, very, small."

You blush, and a part of you wants to close your legs, or at least punch his genitals until he can't use them --

The rest of you spreads your legs wider and -- "You like that."

"More than I should --"


"Yes, Cassandra. I like it very much. I am... large."

"You -- hurt?"

He cups your wrists and squeezes them, presses them down to the bed -- "Hopefully with pleasure."

You shiver --

"I know that makes you want to hurt me --"


"Should I apologize?"

You *start* to shake your head -- "No. *More*."

"As you say," and he thrusts against your left thigh, and your right --

And he grinds his hips and thrusts *between* --

You moan and your face heats, your body *shakes* --

"More more!"

"I am not always a good man --"

You growl for that, but it's the kick of your leg when your knee is tapped, and the way you throw your elbow when a target is just *there* instead of anywhere else. You blush more, and you feel like Steph like Dick --

Bruce sighs and thrusts --

He is big, you are not.

He is hairy, you are not.

He is scary -- but everyone says you are, too.

You fight him as hard as you can without bruising what you need of him --

You *clench* when he growls and fights you back --

The flesh over your ribs will bruise --

His hip will bruise worse --

"What do you *want*," he growls, but he is more hungry than angry.

He knows lust.

You smile and wriggle and push --

You rub your abdomen against his penis until he begins to pant --

"I *need* you --"

"Yes," you say, and you say it with every part of you because he didn't say you couldn't --

And he says 'please' and 'don't' and '*now*,' so you bruise him more as you flip him --

You rise *above*, and it feels wonderful, strange, right, *adult* --

You call his name as you take him in --

You call his name as your vagina screams --

You scream his name as you *clench* --

And his hips say 'more' and his fingers say 'more *now*' --

He pinches and *tugs* your nipples --

You *test* with this cry --

And he frowns 'no' and brings his hands to your hips -- he may move you if you don't stop him.

You clutch his wrists and stare into his eyes, you try to tell him --

"*Speak* --"

"You -- can't make *noise* --"

"You *can* --"

"I know I see --" You shake your head, and you want to tell him that sometimes even the wrong lessons last a very long time, but the words are slippery and small, too *hard* --

"*Tell* me, Cassandra --"

"I can I can --" You growl and clench, and squeeze with your thighs --

He flushes all over, dark and almost angry -- not angry. Hungry and desiring and *wanting* --

You flush, too --

He groans --

He opens his mouth --

He pants, and his eyes are begging you and his spasming fingers are begging, too, and a part of him wants you to say *no* --

So you pinch his nose and twist.

His laugh is an *interesting* honk --

You laugh *together* --

And it's like being loosened, freed.

It's the first time you saw water from a faucet --

It's the first time you performed a kata perfectly, and Cain touched --

It's the first time Bruce hugged you, and it didn't matter that you were also drowning --

This is drowning, too, because you think he's much too big --

Because you're *small*, and he knows it, and he *likes* it --

You use the motion you learned from Barbara's favorite -- as of last October -- pornography, and you cry out --

You cry out --

Bruce grunts and *flexes* his wrists in your grip --

Bruce *stares* into you --

You cry *out* --

"Cassandra, *please*!"

You gasp and *squeeze squeeze squeeze* his wrists -- you weren't expecting words to mean this much --

Even *now* --

Is it the sound? Is it the way you can see his lips and tongue and teeth --

You know how that *feels* --

"*Let* me!"

You whimper then, because that was a command but it *wasn't* Batman --

You want to call him Batman --

You want to whimper and *hold* him more --

You whimper and move faster, hold *tighter* --

You're pleading and crying *out* --

"*Cassandra* --"

"Bruce Bruce --"

He breaks your hold and caresses your hips, strokes them and squeezes, *grips* --


And then he *makes* you ride him, makes you stare into his eyes and see his need, his anger, his *apology* --

It's so *fast* --

So you struggle until he releases you enough that you can make it faster, harder --

You're so *swollen* --

You *must* be so --

So --

You cover your face --

You move your hands so you can lick them, bite them the way Steph bit hers --

Bruce grunts and tightens his grip again -- "*Cassandra*."

"Yes! Yes yes!"

But you can't keep your eyes open --

And you can't do anything to keep from feeling him so much, feeling the rocking-slamming-*yanking* waves inside you --

He's making you *move* --

You're trying to *grasp* --

But then he growls again and moves you, pulls you *off* of him --

You claw at him like a child --

"*This*," and he flips you onto your hands and knees --

He spreads you and kisses your anus, licks you and *stabs* --

You claw at the sheets --

You kick *back* --

You try and find the right *words* -- he's terrible at reading your back --

"My *love*," he says, and it sounds like 'Robin' and it sounds like 'Batgirl' and it sounds like --

It's *please* when he pushes his tongue back in --

It's always --

You think it's always please.

You think it's always *been* please, and you hate yourself for being stupid, but mostly you *want* yourself, want to always be this slick with sweat, this hungry-swollen-*ready* --

And you want to know if Bruce wants himself like this --

And you want --


He grunts, and his hands shake so *much* on your hips --

He kisses your anus *hard* --

But then he pulls away and pushes his penis back into your vagina, and you're so surprised by the speed that you *scream* --

And then you scream *again*, because he'd given you just enough time to swell more --

Steph was so *pink* --

And you make a sound like an American child in a bad dojo --

And you beat at the bed with your fists and want it to be *him*, always --

"*Bruce* --"

"*Yes*," and he covers you, and he's big, and the shadows always always belong to him --

"B-*Batman* --"

And his growl is long and low and sharp, so --

He grips the back of your neck and pretends to want to move you, to throw you --

He wants you right where you are. He wants --

He thrusts so much *harder*, but the rhythm is exact, the timing is --

Perfect --

You howl for him, and you do it again because it makes the waves *crest* in you --

You want to take him to the ocean, even though you know he's already been there --

You want to *show* him everything you are--

And when he shudders, rhythm slipping to something much more jagged --

You know you'll have the chance.

You smile then, and rock for every thrust, and yank one of his hands to your face so he can feel you --

"*Love* --" And it sounds strange in Batman's growl, sounds swallowed and *hurt* --

And you know he doesn't want to lie to you right now, that he *never* does. "*Bruce*!"

"Yes -- always -- always with you --"

"Like *this*!"

"*Nnh* -- " And then he grunts with his thrusts, even though there's no rhythm at all, anymore. It makes *you* grunt, too --

It makes you sweat and clench and *wriggle* --

"So *beautiful* --"


"*Yes*," and his weight is on you --

You can't stay *up* --

He *presses* you to the bed under all of his heat and hair --

He *grinds* in and in --

And *in* --

You bite the sheets and claw them --

You scream out all your air for the hurt of it, so sweet and large and *good* --

He groans and seizes with something that feels like shock -- it is, it's the way you seized when Steph touched your clitoris --

It's the way you seize every time you've seen Bruce's lips part in the seconds before he lies --

"*Cassandra* --"

And his orgasm brings more heat and pleasure, *frustration* --

You don't *want* to be frustrated --

You want to be able to enjoy the feel of him shaking and spasming and pressing you down-down-down --

You can't.


He pants and shakes as he pushes up --

"Bruce Bruce --"

"I will please you," he says, and his voice is low and *rough* --

And his fingers make vows as he strokes down your back --

And he's breathing like you've *fought* --

And you realize, deep and so *sweet* inside, that he was making love to you that night, too. You moan, then, and clench around him until he gasps again and again --

Until he shakes and you shake, *too* --

"Let me. Let me use my mouth and fingers."

You blush for that --

You don't know *why* --

He strokes your cheek, and his fingers say love, and his penis isn't *softening* --

You *clench* --

"*Nnh*. Cassandra..."

"Tell me *why*," you say, and you turn your head enough that he has to either meet your eyes or *hide*.

He meets your eyes... and there is shame in his rueful. "I will grow too tired for patrol --"

You *growl* --

"-- because I masturbated twice this morning while thinking of your smile... and your beautiful body on my lap."

You blink.

You *think* about it, and wriggle the way you would if you *were* on his lap --

And then you think about Barbara's pornography. "Spanking?"

He grunts and twitches. "If... if you'd like. Another time --"

You nod and push up onto your hands and knees --

"Cassandra, I must --"

"Pull *out*!"

"Yes," he says, and does so.

You think about it, weighing angles and -- no, it has to be *this* way. You turn onto your back and spread your legs for him, for yourself --

And the smile in his eyes is so big that it moves all the way to his cheeks.

You smile back and point at your genitals.

"Of course," and he leans in -- and pauses.

You frown at him.

He smiles again. "Speak...?"

You want to hit him for that, but you can't. His smile is too happy, and he is -- playing with you.

You pat his cheeks *almost* the way you would if you wanted his emotions to be quieter, and then you stroke them and his ears --

And you *pull*.

Bruce hums against your clitoris --

You gasp --

"As you say," Bruce slurs, and shows you the laugh in his eyes --

The bright and *sharp* laugh --

You gasp again --

And again --

And you drum your feet when he pushes two fingers in so deep, so *deep* --

"Mm! Mm!"


You giggle then, with your feet and your fingertips --

He hums and he *moans*, and you know it's for the taste of you, of the two of you *together* --

You push your fingers down and down, and you gather the mess, and you taste --

He narrows his eyes --

And you narrow your own and pull your fingers out slowly, just the way it happens in Barbara's pornography --

He shivers.


And then you shout, because his growl vibrates *everything* --

Because he's thrusting so *hard* --

You smile, and you gasp, and you shout again and again --

You know the right words.

You know the right words for *Bruce*, and that means that he can't hide from you anymore --

You'll make sure to teach everyone else. For now, you clench around his fingers and *hold* it until your hips can only say 'ooh' and 'please' and 'more!'

You hold it until you're *scratching* all the words into Bruce's scalp --

He licks you and *stares* --

And you stare back for as long as you can. You have to *see* --

He hid for so *long* --

But you still fall back against the headboard when he sucks --

And you still close your eyes when he starts to *twist* his fingers --

He hums and *hums* --

But you want something else. You push his head away --



"Hmm. I... you're beautiful --"

"Yes yes --"

"You... I..." And the wet sound means that he licked his lips --

And he thrusts *faster* --

"From the first moment I saw you, your wise and lovely eyes... will you open them?"

"*Nnh* --" You shake your head then, because this is how to learn this language, this won't let you *cheat* --

Steph *always* calls it cheating --

"Oh... of course," Bruce says, and he breathes hot on your mound, he thrusts *harder* -- "I want to take you again, Cassandra."


"I want to..." He sighs. "I want to fill you with myself --"

"Oh --"

"I want to watch you with others. Other... perhaps Kon-El?"


"But he would never allow... would you?"

You nod then because you have to, because Bruce has to *see* --

"Thank you," he says, and his voice is low and heavy, *thick* with all the ways he wants to thank you --


"I want to taste Stephanie on your skin..."

You moan -- you moan and you *imagine* --

"I want to lick Dick's semen from... from your *cheek* --"

And you can't keep your eyes from flying open --

Your eyelids are birds, and your fingers move to stop them, to cover --

"No, Cassandra. *Show* me."

You look at him then, and you realize that you can't stop moving your hips --

That the waves keep *crashing* --

That he can pull you *under* --

And, when he smiles, it's a thing of blades and fire and *friction* --

He knows you're close --

He knows you *need* him --

And you beg with everything you can, with the *grind* of your hips and the way you're reaching for him --

He shakes his head *slowly*. "Speak."

You grunt --

You growl and clench and then you *shout* -- but.

"Please *more*!"

"I would watch you take Tim's fears, piece by piece until he was pliant in your arms..."

"*You* -- you *have* to, I'll *show* you!"

Bruce nods slowly and licks his lips again. "Yes, you will. Now..." He moves then, moves until he's looming over you and you're breathing yourself in from his mouth --

You're gasping and *reaching* --

"Come for me, Cassandra."

"*Bruce* -- *mm*!"

And he kisses you, and he kisses you again, and he breathes and nuzzles and kisses you *again* --

And he never closes his eyes.

And you never close your eyes.

And you moan, and ache --

And you squeeze and *squeeze* --

And his eyes smile and call you valuable, more, *different* --

And his lips won't *hear* 'no' --

And his fingers --

You don't --

"I don't *know*!"

"I do," he growls, and kisses you again as you shudder and twist and *fight* through your orgasm --

Kisses you so *hard* --

And loves you --

And loves you until you fall back and splay like Shiva has been fighting you, like you're exhausted-hurt-done.

You don't think you'll ever be done with this.

He sighs and kisses you softly. "Stay here with me."

You nod once, and let the tides move you inside -- but you don't let Bruce move his hand.


Barbara claps when you go back to the Clocktower, and gives you several new bugs to plant.

She also gives you ice cream, and you know this means that she wants you to tell her things about how you feel.

You do so, and together you decide what she should say to Bruce when you knock him out and drive him here.

Dick taught you how to drive. You're good at it.

After you're done with that, Barbara puts on her pornography for you.

The first one is Arsenal spanking Stargirl, who you don't know, but who says 'yes' with her feet exactly how Steph does. You're not sure if you should like her as much as you do for that, but you won't worry about it until you meet her.

The next one is Clark -- no. The next one is Kal spanking Dick, and Dick is giggling and squirming and worried-horny-shocked.

He keeps calling Kal 'Clark.'

The next one is Wonder Woman spanking Troia, and it goes on for a very long time. You don't get bored, though, because they're both begging with their hands and shouting with their shoulders and straining-working-*pushing*.

"You like this one."

"Yes," you say, and rewind to the part where Wonder Woman pushes her thumb into Troia's anus.

Barbara smiles, and makes herself into a predator faced with something small and very delicious. "I like it, too. Clark *presenting* me with this video... well. It was the first time I found myself *truly* considering bisexuality."

"It's good."

"Agreed," she says, and turns the volume up.


You pounce on Dick in a Blüdhaven alley, and he *starts* to elbow you, but realizes who you are and spins you into a rib-crushing hug, instead.

You smile at each other for a long time, and then go hurt people.

When your calf gets slashed, he stitches it for you while humming a song you know from a show about happy purple people. Steph showed it to you.

When his arm gets grazed by a bullet, you curse together, then bandage him.

He tickles your chin.

You tickle his back.

You roll around on the roof of a warehouse, and you giggle and giggle, and when he kisses you this time he doesn't stop until he realizes that he's tugging on the top of your suit.

He apologizes then, and he searches you to see if you want more, and you do, but first you tell him about Bruce.

His eyes cross.

You like the way he almost never puts his lenses down, so you don't laugh at him. You tell him what he should do, and he argues, and he paces, and he paces on his hands, and he argues.

You drop him, pin him, and tell him again.

He blushes and tickles you.

You catch his hands and *look* at him.

He blushes harder and promises to come to Gotham soon -- "Now can we kiss more?"

"Yes," you say, and you don't tear his uniform. You really like his uniform.


You wait for Tim on his roof and he only throws two shuriken at you when he sees you -- and he uses the staff to knock the second off its trajectory.

"Sorry. Sorry. Ah?"


"I -- oh. Well. Yes, O... informed me," he says, and you know that he doesn't know whether he wants you to tell him more or not. You watch him centering himself -- and then he smiles at you hurt-sharp-amused. "N told me you've been dispensing... advice."

You look at him and -- you're not sure. "Don't know if you want it."

"Well... neither do I," and he pushes his gauntleted hand over his hair. "Tell me anyway?"

You do, and he nods, sinking deep into himself the way he does when he wants to dissect something until it's dead and quiet.

You wait.

You wait, and listen to Gotham --

"It almost seems... hm."

You cock your head at him.

"Sorry, bear with me -- ah. You're convinced he *should* be having sex with all of us."

"Making love."

Tim winces -- and nods. "I'm not sure I'm... anything enough for that," and the wince becomes a smile, soft and warm. "I'm very happy about you and S."

You smile, because when Tim tells the truth about Steph, there's never any hurt in him. "Hug?"

"Absolutely," he says, and deactivates several traps on his suit so he can do it. And then he kisses your cheek through the cowl, slowly and thoughtfully. It's a question, and Bruce is in it. 

"Bruce wants that, too. Wants *us*."

"Oh... goodness. Ah. Ah." He steps back and reactivates the traps.

You only laugh at him a little.


"Go team Cass!" And Steph puts on very loud and cheerful music.

You dance to it, and you make her dance with you.

She shows you other ways to dance --

"Wait, *Nightwing*? That's *Tim's* boyfriend!"

You kiss her and kiss her and kiss her -- wait. You pull back. "I'll tell Dick that?"

Steph snorts and bites her lip.

Steph cackles and bites her lip again.

Steph rolls around on the bed and kicks her feet and it all means 'yay' and 'I love you' and 'tell me everything.'

You promise to do so with your teeth on the fold of her navel --

And Steph sighs and pets your hair. "I feel so disloyal now, girlfriend. I mean -- um. We should probably... something?"


"*Not* ruin my boyfriend's careful plans?"

You frown at her. "They're stupid."

Steph bites the tip of her tongue. "Yeah, you're right, let's bone."


You sit on Batman's lap when he's at the computers, and you reward him with a kiss when he turns into Bruce.

Then you do other things on Bruce's lap.