Hello there! This is my first fanfic, so I hope you enjoy. I'm relatively new to the vast world of Batman and the Batfamily, but I know enough to attempt to fulfill my own smutty desires. I plan to keep adding chapters, so keep an eye out for those. Thanks for reading and have fun ;)

—

It was late. Sure, I'm usually tired after a night on patrol, but tonight was particularly rough. No one ever talks about the amount of discipline and time management that comes with being a costumed crime fighter, but that's not really the fun part, is it? I had classes at Gotham University in the morning to mid-afternoon, training at the Batcave and any homework I could squeeze in until dinner, then a quick second to digest before getting ready for patrol — and that's all when there isn't some catastrophic criminal event that can take weeks on end to resolve.

I quietly grappled from building to building towards my neighborhood, choosing to jump from roof to roof when I could to lessen any noise. The last thing I needed was a panicked phone call to Bruce, telling him I needed to move again. Nosy neighbors. He blamed me for not being stealthy enough. Please. Everyone's always on a quiet witch-hunt to find out who the Batman and his ever-growing team are in real life: Robin, Red Robin, Nightwing, Red Hood, and me, Batgirl.

I finally made it to my balcony, shrouded in shadow, just as the sun peeked its face over the horizon. I needed to get some sleep. No big-hitter bad guys tonight, just some low-life muggers, a lone robber, and a couple guys trying to break into a car. Still, with each fight came the adrenaline rush, along with the exhaustion that always followed.

I silently entered my locked apartment, pulling my cowl off my head and shaking my hair out. I had barely changed out of my costume before collapsing on my unmade bed.

—

"You look like hell."

Tim Drake stood over me as I sat on a bench in the training level of the Batcave. I was attempting to stretch out my neck. I slept on it weird last night.

"Thanks, Timmy," I bit back. He frowned at my nickname for him that he deemed childish.

"What's going on? Too many late nights?" Tim asked, grabbing his bo staff. He began to stretch his arms out and spin the weapon around in preparation for his spar with Damian. I could see Bruce's son doing his own warm up in the opposite corner, brandishing his sword threateningly. Bruce wanted them to use practice weapons but the two boys insisted on using real ones with the promise they wouldn't actually hurt each other. Not too bad anyway. They almost always did.

"Yeah, I think I've been going on patrol too much lately. It's getting hard to balance everything. My grades are abysmal — but don't tell my dad."

Two hands running down my arms and gripping my shoulders startled me. My reflex prepared me to flip that sorry bastard over my shoulder when a familiar voice filled my ears.

"Settle down, Babs, it's just me." I looked up to see Dick Grayson peering down with a crooked smile. A warm feeling filled in my chest — and deep between my legs.

"You're working too hard, you've got to take some nights off. There are six of us here you know." He continued to rub my shoulders, working out that kink in my neck that had been bothering me all day. I felt my eyes closing in relaxation.

It took us a long time to get here. Speaking to each other I mean. We've been on and off for a long time… not that anything was really official until a couple of years ago. Before that it was an unspoken childish crush, turned flirtation, turned friends with benefits, turned into actual dating over the years. But the long-term thing didn't last long.

"I know, I know. Maybe I could tempt you out of Blüdhaven for a night or two as an assist? It's always easier sharing the burden." I gave a coy smile, which Dick returned. Tim rolled his eyes and left us to our flirtation haven. We couldn't help it. It was like our weird language now.

"I'll come along, but only if it's you assisting me." He leaned over the bench now, his face close to mine.

We were broken out of our reverie by the jarring sound of metal on metal. We both whipped around to see Damian and Tim begin their combat training. Dick jumped up to cheer his littlest kid brother from the side. Not that he needed any encouragement. He had the ego of all other previous Robins combined. But it was always so sweet to watch Dick and Damian interact.

Tim spun his staff with expert precision, whacking Damian when he had the open opportunity.

"Move your feet, Damian." A low voice boomed down the cave. I looked up to see Bruce descending down the steps wearing the batsuit with the cowl off. Seeing him like that, the simple image of him in uniform without the mask always brought back such memories; technically inappropriate memories, but memories all the same.

As Tim and Damian went on in a blur of kicks, punches, whacks, and dodges, I daydreamed of that night several years ago. Dick and I were on another "break" of our official relationship. We knew each other too well, which meant we knew exactly how to tick off the other one enough past a certain breaking point. He holed himself away in his city of Blüdhaven while Bruce and I went off on a mission near the docks. There was always a strange tension between Bruce and I. We hid it well (Bruce was an expert at hiding his feelings, trust me) and we worked on cases, researched criminals, basically did our jobs without any trouble. But as I got older and more mature, the more I felt that tension, but was convinced it was completely one-sided. I mean, who doesn't get crushes on handsome older men?

We were following a trio of robbers who were targeting Gotham's Old Money elite. They wore animal masks and spoke to each other like immature teenagers, but were obviously in their mid-30s — Bruce's age. Honestly they reminded me of the boys I saw around Gotham University. When the time came to approach them, I descended first. This was something we often did with these dim-witted criminals. When they see a young woman approach them in a costumed outfit such as mine (something they previously would have only experienced at boozy Halloween parties and, regrettably, in the bedroom) they are stunned, surprised, excited, and more importantly, relaxed. Their guards are down. That's when my sweet manner turns lethal and Batman arrives in a glorified descent from the darkness, swift and powerful.

But it wasn't working this time. These guys were too stupid to even be afraid. I leaped down from the fire escape hidden in the shadows, rising with my hands on my hips.

The three men whirled around.

"Hmm, if it isn't Batbabe," the man in the fox mask said, "looking to get her hands dirty."

"I don't know, boss," shark head said behind him, "she looks dirty enough to me."

My face twisted into a look of disgust. I quickly stifled it.

"Why don't you fellas come a little closer, and I can show you just how down and dirty I can get," I said sweetly with growing force. I could see their perverted grins even beneath their masks. They dropped their loot and started walking towards me.

With these goons, I barely expected to have to put in half the effort I usually did. As soon as they were close enough I popped up into a swift roundhouse kick. Right before my foot made impact with Fox's face, he caught it with a strong hand.

Oh. He was stupid… but strong. He pulled me towards him so I collapsed against his chest and into his arms. I struggled against his grip. What was wrong with me tonight?

I felt his hand run down and grab my rear, hard. My face burned with anger.

"Don't. Touch. Me," I boomed with barely suppressed rage.

"You were asking for it, sweetie. You know, I was hoping I'd run into you. Robbery has more than just financial perks."

Thankfully, I felt the soft gush of wind of Bruce entering the scene. Fox's head jerked up in surprise, and the other two jumped back with a cry. I twisted my head around to see Batman's large and looming presence, the white slits of his eyes narrowing as he surveyed Fox groping my behind, my breasts pressed against him. I squirmed, looking for an opening to break away, but his strong hands whirled me around to face Batman. My backside was now against Fox's groin. One of his iron hands secured my arms behind me, while the other pressed against my breasts, roughly fondling my skin beneath. Forced to look at Bruce, I felt my cheeks burning involuntarily.

"Let her go," he growled.

"Your girlfriend's found someone new to play with, Bats. Best to leave us to it." The man in the bear mask pulled out a Tommy gun and began firing at Batman, forcing him to dive for cover. But I knew what would happen next.

As if on cue, Batman threw smoke pellets towards us, which softly popped into a thick fog. With his guard down, I freed one of my arms and swiftly elbowed that disgusting Fox in the face.

"Argh!" Fox stumbled back. I allowed myself one hard kick to his ribs before stealing away Bear's gun and punching him in the stomach. I had one second to wonder where Batman was — he usually jumped into action with the help of smoke cover — when I felt my body collide with something solid and hard.

We ran right into each other. Oh, the Robins would have laughed and laughed if they saw us now. At the momentum Batman was going, along with his body weight, he probably would have flattened me if it wasn't for his quick reflexes. Right before we hit the ground, Batman shifted his body weight to his arms on either side of me, cushioning me from the force of the fall. But I still felt his weight upon me. And just like that the air became inexplicably intimate, with billowing smoke hiding us from all eyes. I was immediately reminded of Dick and I in bed, and his welcome body weight on top of me, thrusting, grinding, him biting his lip as groans escaped and sweat-drenched hair marking his forehead.

And that same weight was upon me now. Time seemed to grind to a halt as we looked at each other, faces inches apart. I looked into the expanse of his mask's white eyes, then to his firm mouth exposed by the cowl. I could feel his thigh in between my legs, pressing. First accidently, then he pushed a little harder. I inhaled a soft gasp.

Batman opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated.

"Cheating on the first date? Batgirl, you should know I'm a jealous lover." We both looked up to see Fox with a rocket launcher — pointed at us. "Courtesy of the Gotham armory."

Batman swiftly dropped his weight on me fully and rolled us behind a nearby wall of metal crates. My heart leapt in a thrill as our bodies worked as one, a mess of limbs clutching the person in front of them.

They may have had the weapons, but that didn't mean they knew how to use them. The kickback from the launcher propelled the rocket well over us, striking a cargo ship and engulfing it's bow in flame and debris.

This was the moment to strike. Batman and I charged towards the three goons, confident to be back in charge of the situation. So we thought.

We would soon learn this just wasn't our night. Batman charged Fox, knocking him to the ground. I ran towards Bear and Shark, dodging their initial clumsy strikes. As Bear's weight tipped him forward, I used it against him, grabbing his wrist and flipping him over my back to land heavily on the concrete. Shark punched wildly in my direction. Using my gymnastic skills to my advantage, I backflipped a few paces before using my flexed legs to kick him under the jaw, sending him flying backwards. But as soon as I landed, the mass that was Bear charged me, sending me crashing against a concrete warehouse wall.

"Boys! Get over here!" With spinning eyes, I looked up to see a crazy-eyed copper-haired man gripping Batman from behind, his forearm pressed against Bruce's throat. A long, bleeding cut on Fox's cheekbone — no doubt from Batman — scarred his otherwise handsome face. Fox's mask was torn down the middle and locked between Batman's fingers, which clawed at the oppression on his windpipe. As I struggled to stand up, I saw two figures run to Fox's side and restrain Batman's arms down to his side.

"A mask for a mask, eh, Bats?" The sharp glint of a knife shone in the moonlight, and my mind snapped awake. They were going to take off Bruce's cowl.

Just as Fox began to pull the cowl off Bruce's face, I threw tear gas pellets under their feet. Thick gas filled our field of vision — Bruce always said this was a last resort for escape. It seemed as if we were there — but not before I saw Fox pull the mask off, but not quite quick enough to see who lied beneath.

"Hey!"

"Argh!"

The three men coughed and sputtered, wiping their watering eyes. Shark even tipped his mask up in order to vomit in the gutter. I dashed for the shadows knowing Batman was right behind me. We darted down a side street and into a small, hidden alcove. I glanced at Batman — his cowl was gone. I could see ridges near the back of his neck where Fox must have torn it off, refusing to let his captive go. Bruce had to leave without it.

"Your mask..." I whispered. We jumped into the darkest corner of the alcove. Voices echoed down the alleyway.

"Shhh." He said. He grabbed my waist and pulled me close, just out of the light from the street lamp. Again, here I was pressed up against Bruce's solid body. I looked up at him. It was Bruce. Bruce, not Batman. His face, which I could normally never see, was a marvel to look at in our situation. He was concentrating fully on the incoming footsteps, his dark brow furrowed, his mouth a hard line of complete focus.

"What the hell, you idiots? I sent you out here to do a job, not have a play date with Batman and his bitch."

Bruce pulled me closer incrementally, as if to reassure me that no, in fact, I was not a "bitch." More importantly I knew we both recognized that gravelly voice. Two-Face.

"We still got the stuff, boss, we just got a little distracted. The whole shebang's in there, just like you wanted." Fox ended this with an attack of coughs, and I could hear Two-Face whacking his back forcefully.

"Uh-hum.. Thanks," Fox muttered. The men proceeded to talk through their next heist, stopping every few minutes to laugh and joke at one of their expense, before Two-Face got them back on track. My legs started shaking from fatigue, and I tried to pace around silently to redistribute my weight. We had no way out until they left. With Bruce exposed and Two-Face and his whole posse out there, there was no way I could take them on alone.

After a while I gave in and rested my head on Bruce's chest. We were body-to-body anyway, I was sure he wouldn't have minded. His hand slowly began to rub my back — subtly, comfortingly. But instead of relaxing, my heart began to beat a hundred miles a minute. There was that strange energy in the air again, more potent than ever. Batman and I were in close quarters for the second time that night. And we were in danger of getting caught, and that was thrilling. If there was anything I knew about each member of the Batfamily — we loved a good thrill.

Bruce silently and slowly retreated his arm from around my waist and turned me around. To my slight surprise, my heart sank.

I took it too far, I thought to myself. I shouldn't have let myself get so close to him. Not willingly anyway. But with both of us looking out into the alley, where Two-Face and his men's long shadows were cast along the brick wall, Bruce pressed my body against his again, his groin against my backside. With gentle fingers his left hand held me in place on my upper abdomen, while his right hand went lower and lower. My stomach flipped in excitement, fear, and adrenaline.

Over my costume, Bruce softly ran his hand between my legs, across my inner thighs... he touched my stomach, and after a moment's hesitation, my breasts, gripping them firmly — confidently. With that, I sunk into him, relaxing myself against his body like a dirty dance frozen in time. My head fell into the curve of his collarbone, and as I turned my face towards his I felt his short but rough stubble against my cheek and caught sight of his dark hair just covering his eyes. I could, however, see his lips parted, breathing sharply, but silently, as his exploration of my body went deeper.

He found the fastening that held the top portion of my uniform to the bottom and undid it, allowing himself access to touch my skin. I could barely stand it when his rough hand snaked its way down the front of my pants — I could feel my body respond immediately down there. It seems Bruce's did too, as a firmness pressed itself into my backside. My body responded with an urgent feeling between my legs. He had trapped one of my arms, but the other was free to play. I promptly whipped it around to stroke his erection that had grown so quickly. I heard Bruce groan softly in my ear, which almost did me in. To hear such a subtle but unquestionably erotic noise come from my mentor — and me being the one who caused it — was a big turn on.

His other hand worked its way up my top, clutching my left breast and groping it rhythmically. His fingers tweaked at my nipple and I pushed my body harder against him, soft whimpering noises escaping my mouth. Encouraged, he moved to the right breast, kneading and gripping it with a new urgency, while his other hand finally pushed two fingers inside me. I stifled a gasp as he worked his way in and out of me, keeping an intoxicating pace. I involuntarily writhed in pleasure, so Bruce used his other arm to keep me in place. I forced myself to keep my breathing in check as uproarious laughter filled the alleyway from Two-Face and his men.

I could only imagine what a display we were making of ourselves. There's more than one reason we were doing this in the darkest of shadows — shine a light on us and there is Bruce, yes Bruce Wayne, groping and pleasuring Batgirl, the daughter of Commissioner Gordon, Batman's long-time colleague. Writhing and touching with hot breath and aroused bodies. Dick was just a faraway memory for both of us at this point.

Bruce dipped his head down to kiss and bite down on my neck. In one swift motion I pulled my own cowl off to expose my skin. He immediately pressed his mouth against the base of my neck up to my hairline, fervently kissing and using his firm tongue to taste my gathering sweat. This new sensation hit me hard, and I stroked him faster, eager for more. Suppressed grunts escaped his mouth, and in the quietest of gasps I heard:

"Barbara…"

I could barely stand it. At that moment his fingers finally found my clitoris and began playing with it expertly. Pleasure rippled in waves. His other hand went to my throat, gripping it so my face was tipped towards the sky. And then, involuntarily, I moaned. The sound escaped my lips and Two Face and his men went silent. Bruce clapped a hand over my mouth, but his other one did not stop its steady motion on my clitoris. Their conversation resumed, but Bruce didn't remove his hand over my mouth, and again the thrill and eroticism was bringing me closer and closer to my breaking point.

But before I reached my peak, without thinking, I spun around, subconsciously doing something I've wanted to do since the beginning. I saw one second of surprise flash across his handsome face before I grabbed it and brought his lips down to mine.

It was like waves crashing. I felt detached from my body, in complete disbelief as my mouth worked against his firm, warm mouth, in complete glee as his tongue pushed its way through to meet mine. Finally, a result of years of sexual tension, subtly building stronger over time. It's come to this, and boy, was it satisfying. I wasn't even controlling myself anymore. His tongue explored my mouth, in complete control as I tried to reciprocate. My fingers tangled in his dark hair, his in my long red locks. He held my face with an iron grip so he could controlled the quick, fervent pace of our passion. I felt aroused just by his command over me, and it only made me more enthusiastic. I licked his tongue, the corners of his mouth, even a little of the side of his face, our breathing restricted to restrained short breaths. His fingers dove again inside me and on the clitoris, working, working, working. I felt my orgasm rising, rising…

—

"Father! Tim is cheating! He brought a second weapon into our combat training."

Damian's commanding voice jolted me back to reality. Feeling a bit flustered after my debaucherous dream, I glanced at Bruce. He stood tall, his arms crossed over his chest — the authority of the room his and only his. A small hint of a smile lifted the corner of his lips.

"Come on, Damian, you could take him with no weapons at all!" Dick said cheerfully, walking over to Bruce's side.

"You're such a whiner," Tim muttered. He tossed a short blade out of the practice ring and it clattered to the floor.

"Don't complain just because you're losing, Damian," Bruce said. "One more round. Let's go."

After that night, we both knew what we did could not, and would not, happen again. We never talked about it, and I managed to avoid patrolling with him for the next couple months. It wasn't so hard, since the week after our alleyway foreplay, Dick arrived at my door again, hand rubbing the back of his neck and insisting we give it another shot. I agreed, and when patrol teams were sorted out, Batgirl and Nightwing together was the obvious choice. Of course, that didn't last long, and I found myself having to normalize two friendly relationships under one roof. And then there was Jason…

"Excuse me sir," Alfred called from the Batcave's main level. "Master Todd has just arrived." Damian and Tim's sparring immediately grinded to a halt.

"What?" Tim said, disbelieving.

The roaring thunder of a motorbike filled the cave. Down the runway came Jason Todd wearing his Red Hood helmet and favorite brown jacket. He'd been gone for weeks, maybe months now, following a lead out of Gotham into Metropolis and god knows where else. He came to a screeching halt on the round landing pad and pulled his helmet off. He shook out his somehow always-perfect hair, the white streak glinting in the lowlights of the cave; it was a physical representation of his dying and coming back to life — as well as his infuriating rebellious attitude.

"Huh, so he's alive. Looks like we can cancel our search party to the Lazarus Pits," Damian called out, arms crossed, as Jason walked the steps up to the training floor.

"Shut it, Demon Spawn," Jason said. He strode over with his signature cocky smirk and tossed his helmet on the bench I was sitting on. It landed roughly in my lap. He swiftly perched his knee on my bench and leaned down towards me, his bright green eyes piercing into mine. My heart quickened.

"Hey Barbie. Miss me?"