It was all Poison Ivy's fault. Of that, Barbara Anne Pennyworth was quite certain.
And they could lay the blame squarely on her new aphrodisiac flower pollen. Potent stuff, that. And her new version worked on women as well as men.
Not that the circumstances the three of them were currently in were a necessarily bad thing – at least to Barbara – but it was the principle of the thing.
It had taken a few minutes for the tiny granules to work their way inside their costumes, so they'd been able to subdue the Plant Princess before they headed home to try and find a quick antidote.
The road to the Batcave was paved with their good intentions – well, more of Bruce's than hers or Dick's, but… They'd managed to hold off until they were back inside the Cave – and out of sight of prying eyes and ears – but once there, the gloves were off.
And the boots, the capes, the utility belts, the Kevlar/Nomex weave bodysuits… Bruce and Dick had fantastic bodies. (As if she hadn't known that before). And it was amazing the things you find out about your crime-fighting partners when you're all naked and sweaty together.
Who knew that Bruce had a tattoo of the Bat symbol at the small of his back? Or that Dick had more pierced than just his left ear?
Barbara had gotten her bellybutton pierced too, but it now made more sense that Dick had forgone having his nipples molded into the chest plating – wouldn't have been comfortable with the ring in. (Barbara wasn't sure what had possessed Batman to add that feature, and wasn't sure she wanted to know if it had been her Uncle Alfred's idea.) She just wasn't sure why Batman had let Robin wear the nipple ring on patrol. It had to have been distracting…
Then again, Bruce probably hadn't even known that Dick had a nipple ring, considering how…entranced he acted when he saw it. It was interesting information that it was, apparently, possible to make a man come just by tonguing his nipples – if he had it pierced.
She'd have to try that for herself sometime. Possibly whenever Dick next woke up – which, according to the sporadic schedule they'd been keeping since the night before, should be in another twenty minutes.
Barbara had been harboring some pent-up lust for both Dick and Bruce almost since she first met them. Well, Dick more than Bruce – it had taken her a while to see past the playboy façade and the broody exterior into Bruce's actual personality (which was rather nice, if conservative) – but that was years ago.
It was kind of hard to work with someone you wanted to jump at every turn, so Barbara had gotten pretty good at self-denial. And at knowing when to stock up on batteries for her vibrator – fighting crime didn't leave a whole lot of time for dating, and anyway, the guys she met in Gotham weren't even a close second to either of her partners.
Apparently Bruce and Dick had also been dealing with some pent-up lust for each other, as well.
And apparently Barbara Anne Pennyworth had a bit of a voyeur in her. More than a bit. Two very virile, extremely sexy men, tussling with each other in sweaty abandon… And then when they'd finished with each other and turned their attentions to her…
Oh. My. Unspecified Deity. Just the memory sent shivers coursing down her spine – straight into her clit.
Barbara was really glad that despite the fact she'd been playing the part of a 'Good Girl' while at boarding school last year she hadn't stopped taking her pill. With their luck, she would have ended up knocked up by both of them. Simultaneously.
Her uncle Alfred would have had a coronary. Or a heart attack. Possibly even a stroke.
Were those first two the same thing?
And she couldn't be Batgirl if she was pregnant, either. She'd go nuts alone in this house (or the Batcave) at night, worrying about the two of them.
But they were safe, for now, because Alfred was out of town at England's seventy-fifth annual Butler's Convention, or somesuch nonsense – Barbara privately speculated it was actually the seventy-fifth annual Her Majesty's Secret Service Convention, only Uncle Al didn't want any of them to worry – and the three of them had just as many days to figure out how to explain this to him.
Well…the two of them. His Broody Battishness – or maybe Batty Broodishness, since they were still in the Batcave, and he was still technically in Batman Mode, despite having let himself go more than Bruce Wayne ever did – wasn't going to be much help aside from worrying himself to death over Alfred's reaction.
As usual. Normal people loosened up when they got laid. Having some particularly spectacular sex with two spectacularly sexy people was normally a free ticket to some instant rest and relaxation. Bruce just…set aside a few hours (or a whole night) to enjoy it, and then tensed up even more.
Barbara and Dick would have to work on that. Some intimate touch desensitization training, perhaps…
Mmmm… Bruce… Dick… Touching intimately…
That thought brought up some good memories. Very good memories.
Barbara felt a drop of sweat trail down her spine and over her hip. She watched as it fell towards the workout mat beneath her, only to be intercepted by Dick's thigh. It was getting awfully warm in the Batcave all of a sudden. Especially considering it was October…
Bruce and Dick had better wake up soon or she was going to spontaneously combust. Maybe this thing with Ivy's aphrodisiac wasn't all fun and games.
Looking at the two naked, sweaty, kiss-mussed and hickey-marked men lying on either side of her, Barbara could only grin and shake her head. Definitely fun – even if it was brought about by Ivy's games.
Maybe she would send Ivy a nice potted plant for her cell in Arkham Asylum.
Bruce and Dick might have been stubborn macho males, too wrapped up in their brooding to forgive and forget, but Barbara was happy enough to forgo her recriminations and extend her thanks for helping the three of them grow closer.
Although… Ivy really needed to lay off the sex pollen.
Perhaps a cactus would be a fitting choice. One with extremely sharp spines.
That would definitely get Barbara's point across better than a bunch of pansies.