2 comments/ 1519 views/ 1 favorites Robin Bedeviled by Mystery Woman By: fanfare ****************************************** A Romantic FanFic of the Crime Fighting Duo ****************************************** Author's Note As I was cleaning out a folder of old story ideas, I found this one. A guy I had worked with, a half-dozen jobs or so ago, was a real Batman fanatic. Long before the movies came out. He belonged to one of the early online fanzine groups. At lunch, we would talk about the stories he wrote. This story we sort of collaborated possibilities together but never finished. Years later I found my copy of the outline and filled in a lot of the scenes. Then forgot about it again until recently. On a whim I decided to polish this up and submit it to Literotica. Cause, why not? A bit different from my usual writing, I enjoy the challenge. The more intelligent readers will have already figured out my favorite comic book character was always Dr. Strange. Perhaps I should think up a story for Brains over Brawn? I know most of these stories are placed in the Celebrities genre for whatever reason, I do not understand. However, I prefer this to be under Romance, I think that is a more accurate description. Cause in my opinion most of the comic book characters have all the personality of a battle robot, just not as interesting to talk to. I do have a rough outline of a follow-up story based upon this one. But, no promises how soon I will complete and post. Sorry. Like most overrated virtues, Patience my children, Patience. ****************************************** Due to prior ownership of the Batman/Bruce Wayne, Robin/Dick Grayson, Andrew, Joker and Riddler characters and the basic storylines by the originating artists and D.C.Comics. This story may not be sold! If reprinted or distributed in any medium, all copies must include this warning. Or The Big Bad Media Conglomerate and their sharkcat lawyers will come to chew on your testicles! ****************************************** The original characters of Cecelia Atlanta Cabot-DeMillo, Bernard, du Chef de Maison Catering Service, Henrietta Cabot, the Badhavenhorst Resort/Spa, in Austria, Thomas H. DeMillo,CEO, Strident Financial Trust, Sylvia Golde, Fürst Furs Mercantile Cooperative Mrs. Prentice, Ms Kelly, Dr. Charlene Smitherson, and the Secreted Police Intelligence Network are original to this story and author - fanfare - ****************************************** ****************************************** ****************************************** ****************************************** *************************** Shock and Awe **************************** Alfred is supervising the various work crews, security, housekeeping, groundskeepers, party supply, caterers, etc; all preparing the Wayne Mansion for the Wayne Foundation Combined Charities Benefit Masque. When his pocket monitor buzzed that a taxicab had entered the main gate to the estate and was coming up the driveway to the mansion's formal entryway. He was puzzled why Mr. Wayne or his ward Dick Grayson would arrive in a taxi, since only they would know the correct code to open the gates and enter the grounds along that route. So he assumed it must be one of them as he hurried to greet them at the front entrance. When he opened the door though, he got quite a shock to find a seriously lovely young woman standing there with a set of matching luggage at her feet. She was wearing a couture suit with short-cut jacket and knee-length skirt, both a pale pink tinted lavender silk blend material over a cream colored frilly blouse. With a matching beret jauntily perched atop shoulder length curly hair of light brown with a red/gold tint. The modest purse over her shoulder and the two inch heel pumps perfectly matched the rest of her outfit. As Alfred tried to control his feeling of being off balance the young woman stepped forward into the doorway, looked him straight in his eyes with her sparkling sea-blue eyes, while extending a gloved hand and in a bright soprano voice said. "Good Afternoon, you must be Alfred. I am Miss Cecelia DeMillo, I will be moving in and living with Dick in his rooms." 'Hmmphh!' Alfred thought as he shook her hand. 'We are now past shock and onto shock and awe!' "My apologies Miss DeMillo, I have not been informed of your arrival or of any changes in Master Dick's residency." She had stepped inside the hall and was looking about with mild curiosity. Turning back to the elderly gentleman's gentleman she put a hand up to her lips to hide a smile, then leaning her head to Alfred conspiratorially whispered. "That does not surprise me. You know how careless young men are with their toys." Alfred blushed at her innuendo, then cleared his throat as her faint perfume aroused long dormant feelings. Suddenly he found himself moving her luggage inside the door and closing it. He shook his head to clear his thinking and mentioned tentatively. "Neither Mr. Wayne nor Master Dick are at home at this time to properly receive you." "Yes, I know. They are, mmm, dealing with a minor business crisis. I understood that they will have the matter wrapped up soon and be returning home within a couple of hours. It was convenient for me to come straight here to the mansion." She started to the staircase leading up towards the residential wing and as she slowly walked, looked back over her shoulder with a mischievous smile at his indecision, she said. "Do not concern yourself with my luggage, I understand that those will be inspected by the estate security team before being brought to...our room. I do have some ideas we will need to implement before Dick returns and since all this extra staffing is available, let us take advantage to accomplish a few minor tasks." Now Alfred was feeling annoyed that Master Dick had failed to notify him of this young lady's arrival. As she was determinedly ascending the stairs, he felt compelled to follow. When he noticed that he was staring at her shapely legs, the seams of her cocoa colored stockings and the alluring sway of her very nice rolling derrière, he flushed and hurried around to her side. "Uhmm, Miss DeMillo, how long have you and Master Dick known one another?" "Oh, Dick and I first met last year at the Spring Cotillion. He was such an accomplished dancer and a perfect gentleman. I simply could not get him out of my mind. From what I have heard, I believe that you deserve some of the credit for those qualities I find most attractive about him." Alfred blushed again. "That is most kind of you to say. However, I am of the opinion that Mr. Wayne's role in mentoring Master Dick has been a more significant influence." "Also true. And of course his life before he became Mr. Wayne's ward. Dick is a complexity of diverse influences that present an interesting challenge for me to understand. I have come to the conclusion that this challenge is what has compelled me to present myself today. Unfortunately, most of the young men I am acquainted with, are rather intellectually shallow. Egotistical narcissists trapped in a perpetual adolescence they will never climb out of. ****************************************** ****************************************** *************************** Room For One More? **************************** As they entered Dick's large bedroom she nodded her head and said, as she waved a hand towards the double-doors, camouflaged by drapery behind the settee. "That leads to an unused room, I believe, Alfred?" "Yes, Miss. Mostly storing extra furniture and decorations for now." "My idea is to open up both rooms by having those drapes and doors removed. I will pick out a dresser or wardrobe and a vanity table plus some mirrors. Perhaps a desk or secretary. Let us take a look and then we can decide what needs to be moved to other storage. Then you can perhaps suggest items to be brought in." Fortunately the settee was of light weight. The two of them were easily able to swivel it away from in front of the doors. Alfred's keys unlocked the double-doors and he found the switch to the ceiling chandelier lights. Revealing a room a little larger then Dick's, crowded with covered furniture. Alfred slipped behind to reach the outside wall. Pulling the drapes apart and opening the windows, to let in the early afternoon sun and fresh air. Then Alfred went around pulling the cloth covers off. The young woman walked around the furniture, to open the shutter doors exposing a whole wall of closets. "This will be perfect for my clothes. I will not need to take any of Dick's closet space." Alfred was looking at the uncovered furniture and said. "These must have been used by Mr. Wayne's mother." Cecelia ran her hand over the fine finish of a large bureau and pulled open a couple of empty drawers. "I like these pieces. Excellent craftsmanship. Feminine and attractive and functional. I'll keep the matching furniture, have the rest removed with the double-doors and the room cleaned. We'll wait to decide on accessorizing this room." "Yes, Miss. May I make a suggestion?" "Of course Alfred. I am always appreciative of good advice." "If I remember correctly, there may be a few more pieces to this set. A davenport I think and a tall free-standing mirror, I am sure. I will look in the other closed rooms along the hall." "You are a gem. I will leave you to it while I will be downstairs in the kitchen scrounging up lunch. All I had time for this morning was a breakfast shake." "My goodness, how embarrassing. I should prepare you some refreshments." "Nonsense, Alfred. I am quite capable of making myself a sandwich. You already have the responsibility of preparing the Mansion for the Benefit Masque. Then I come along and add arranging my accommodations to your burdens. I am the one who should be apologizing to you." She affectionately squeezed his arm and then set off back down the stairs, across the great hall to the wing where the main kitchen was located. As she passed the front doors where she had entered, she noticed with a faint smile, that her luggage had been removed. She just hoped the security team included women. They would be more thorough searching through her personal items but would also be a lot more conscientious about putting everything back neatly when finished. She heard several people working in the enormous kitchen as she pushed the door open. Everyone looked with curiosity at her entrance. She picked out the head chef and went over to him. "Hello, I am Cecelia. I came down for a spot of lunch. Anything you would recommend?" "I am Bernard, du Chef de Maison Catering Service. I am most enchanted to make your acquaintance, Cecelia. We'll whip you up un specialte du maison." Miss DeMillo sat on a stool at the work counter, observing the bustle about her with real interest. She chatted briefly with Chef Bernard. Then, with hopeful aplomb, he asked. "Are you one of Mr. Wayne's secretaries?" She looked down at her fidgeting hands, then admitted to the older, suave Frenchman. "No, actually I am with Dick. We, ahhmm, are now living together." He looked startled and in an envious tone replied. "I would never have believed that I would ever be so jealous of an American man's love life as I am right now!" Cecelia practically combusted as she blushed so prettily. Then giggled as the catering staff applauded her for dragging such an admission out of their proud and temperamental Parisian food artiste. He glared at them all. Then laughed at himself. Under the chef's competent direction, she was quickly served a small salad of mixed greens, sweet peppers and berry-tomatoes, dressed with a handmade vinaigrette. A halved sandwich of sliced, pressed duck in a sweet-tart citrus sauce on thin, lightly toasted bread. The plate accessorized with an assortment of pickled baby vegetables and gingered sliced fruit. For the grande finale a carafe of sangria, Chef Bernard himself whipped up before her. As she patted her lips with a linen napkin after finishing her second goblet of that civilized combination of wine and fruit juices, she complemented the chef and his team. "That was a delicious meal Bernard. The sangria you prepared is most refreshing for such a warm day." She took a look at her watch and calculated how much time was remaining and decided. "Alfred is very busy at this time. That dear man has many responsibilities and I have added to them. Mr Wayne and Dick should be returning home within the hour. Please prepare them a hearty lunch, they will be hungry. I doubt that they will have taken the time to stop somewhere." ****************************************** ****************************************** ***************************** Two, Too Many, Mysterious Women ***************************** For the crime fighting duo in the Batmobile, the ride back to the Mansion was silent. Both men were brooding over the confusing morning they had just experienced dealing with the latest outrage by the Joker's gang. They had thought. that with the Joker safely caged in the sanitarium, without a strong leader his minions would have dispersed back into petty crime. This fur warehouse heist at the Fürst Fur Mercantile Cooperative in midtown Gotham turned out to be a lot more sophisticated then Bruce or Dick would have believed the Joker's thugs capable of on their own initiative. Fortuitously, the Duo had managed to thwart the crime and captured all the participants without any innocent bystanders coming to harm. Except for some cuts and bruises on a couple of security guards who had joined in to help subdue the perps. What turns out to be most preposterous about this caper, is that all the valuable furs had already been removed and only the cheapest, most shoddy quality of furs were left for the gang to fail at making off with. The crime fighting duo's investigation discovered that the CFO of the Fürst Fur Mercantile Cooperative, had that very morning, absconded with the missing furs. He was quickly tracked to the airport while trying to load his stolen goods onto a cargo-jet and apprehended with the missing merchandise. While interrogating the gang members, it became clear that none of them were in charge of this caper. They all received orders two days ago, from an unidentified mystery woman who had the proper cypher identifying the orders as originating from the Joker, himself. Which was impossible! Since, for the last two weeks, the Joker had been continuously sedated comatose as part of an experimental treatment for his psychosis. Batman and Robin personally visited the medical center he is secretly being held at. To verify his coma by reviewing all the security videotape recordings of that period. The FBI interrogation of the CFO revealed that he had been blackmailed into stealing the furs. Also by an unknown mystery woman. Who had somehow discovered that he had for years been embezzling from his firm. Three major crimes solved in a morning with all the perpetrators facing substantial prison time, rendering the people of Gotham City that much safer. Yet, who were these mysterious women? And why did they or she arrange all of this? It was most baffling. Privately, both the Batman and Robin shared the same hypothetical fear. Maybe a female version of the Riddler? That was a scary thought! After they pulled into the parking slot inside the Bat-Cave, Alfred hurried to meet them in the command center. He was helping them peel out of their fighting suits and setting them aside for cleaning after disarming the tactical gear they had carried. The two men took quick showers and dressed casually while Alfred described what still needed to be accomplished for the charity ball. Neither Bruce nor Dick paid much attention for the several hints he dropped about Miss DeMillo. They both assumed she was a social secretary or some other foundation functionary here to assist with the preparations for the Masque. They went up to the small, informal dining room and Bernard's people immediately served them baked chicken with a medley of oven-roasted root vegetables, followed by warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream and strong coffee. As they enjoyed the end of a satisfying meal, Chef Bernard came in to see if there was anything else they wanted. "Bernard, you and your people outdid yourselves as usual." Dick, with a mouth full of savory apple pie, nodded agreement. "Thank you Mr. Wayne. Dick, your lady friend had informed me that you would both be back soon and hungry. Glad we could be of service." Dick paused spooning up the handmade ice cream. With a confused look compounded with a sudden brain freeze, asked in an uncertain tone. "What? My lady friend?" "Why yes, Cecelia is a lovely and charming mademoiselle. Vous êtes un jeune homme plus heureux!" The 'fortunate young man' almost choked swallowing and had to take a a gulp of water to clear his throat. Bruce looked at Dick and then remembered that Alfred had mentioned a Miss DeMillo. He hadn't realized that Dick had a brought any of his female acquaintances to the mansion. It would be a serious security breach that he had failed to inform Bruce. Not understanding the sudden tension between Wayne and Grayson, Bernard diplomatically thought it best to withdraw. "I better get back to work. So much still to prepare for this Friday's festivities." Bruce rang for Alfred while glowering at Dick who was desperately trying to remember any woman he knew by that name. He was about to admit he had no idea of who she may be when Alfred entered the room and Bruce asked brusquely. "Alfred, there is a young lady in the mansion by the name of Cecelia?" In an enthusiastic tone the elderly butler replied. "Why yes, Mr. Wayne. Miss DeMillo arrived two hours ago and I have placed her in the expanded suite Master Dick occupies." Master Dick utters a strangled cry, this day has now officially, gone from total confusion all the way to surreal. He blurted out. "I don't know any Cecelia! No, I'm sure of it." Both older men look at him with skeptical glares. Alfred speaks first. "You provided her the entrance codes to the driveway gate. Either you described the layout of the second floor or she has been here before. She even knew about the anteroom you never used. Security checked everything including her identity and she was given a tentative clearance." Bruce interjected. "Dick, this is not the first time you have allowed your little head to overrule your thinking. Not checking with me and having her thoroughly vetted is a serious security breach. You are a healthy young man and I do not expect abstinence, none of us are perfect. But, I certainly expect some measure of common sense on your part." "Bruce, Alfred, I swear to you...That I have absolutely no idea who this woman is!" Now in Batman mode, for the moment assuming that his junior partner was telling the truth as far as Dick knew it, the senior crime-fighter coldly asks. "Think back over the last week or two. Are there any blank spots? Any time span that you cannot account for? Possibly a hypnotic drug has been used on you." "Sorry Bruce but I was with you the only times I wasn't here at the mansion. I'd think you, either of you, would have noticed if I had been acting strangely. And, I haven't even dated anyone seriously for...God, how many months? Almost half a year!" Alfred then spoke up. "Miss DeMillo is awaiting your return in the Library. Should we not direct our inquiries to her?" The two younger men flushed as they suddenly realized that they were wasting time arguing conjectures when the answers were awaiting them right down the hall. Robin Bedeviled by Mystery Woman Like a squad of executioners, the three men marched loudly across the patterned wood-parquet floor of the hallway into the Library. As they entered, they warily spread out, not certain of who they faced...or what? ****************************************** ****************************************** ************************* Our Life's Journey ************************* The young woman in question was seated behind the large, polished walnut antique desk, evidently writing a letter. Looking up with a pensive expression at their sudden entrance. She replaced the pen she had been using into it's brass stand. Standing up she took a deep breath, exhaling softly, coming around the desk and walking forward to Bruce. With a pleasant smile she extended her hand and introduced herself. "Mr Wayne. I am Cecelia DeMillo." Without hesitation, Bruce clasped her proffered hand, gently but firmly in both of his. Using his finely tuned senses to evaluate the young woman before him. Instantly ready to counter any possible attack. He replied. "Miss DeMillo, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." With a dimpled smile she responded. "You are a most considerate host. Alfred has been a dear, interrupting his busy schedule to see to my needs." "I am pleased that a guest is at ease in my home." As their hands parted, she turned her gaze to the mortified Dick. His overloaded mind was torn by the mysterious confusions of this morning. His rational superego was screaming alarms 'Danger!' 'Danger, Will Robertson!' While his libido raved 'Available beautiful woman! Drag her upstairs right now! Fuck yourself stupid! NOW!! NOW!!' She approached the purple faced young man, put her hands against his chest. Looked up into his desperate glare with limpid pools of desire. Pushing up onto her toes, she cocked her head to plant a lingering kiss against his lips. Automatically, as their balance wavered, Dick put his strong arms around her to steady them both. Responding to her kiss with a passionate growl. The two older men considered the case closed against Dick. Guilty as charged! They were both thinking. Suddenly Dick pulled himself free while pushing on her arms to give him enough distance to look at her face. It was driving him batty that he couldn't remember her! "Okay, I give up! Who the heck are you? When was I ever so stupid as to meet you? And then let you go out of my life without a second thought!" She looked up at him with adoring supplication and theatrically declaimed. "Last year at the Spring Cotillion. We had two dances and that was when I realized that we are destined to be together forever." This has to be the first time in many years that either Bruce or Alfred were stunned into slack-jawed stupor. A look of relief flashed across Dick's face. "Oh thank God, I'm not going crazy!" She smiled hopefully at his words. He was thinking hard, trying to remember the specific event. He had attended maybe a dozen such social functions the last couple of years. There was a beautiful, witty young debutante. She danced so gracefully. She looked so desirable in his arms. She smelled so delicious ...She?... ...She! "Now I remember you!" The rugged young man blanched with embarrassment. "Oh no! I had promised to call, to get better acquainted. Then I got involved in, a hmm, a sudden...There was an 'accident' later that night. My tuxedo was ruined and I must have lost your phone number. Then to compound my stupidity, I allowed events to crowd you right out of my mind." Dick's face openly displayed his chagrin. "I am so sorry that I failed to keep my promise." A look of obvious relief, then hope swept across her face as she replied. "I understand darling. You are a very busy man. You are studying for an MBA in addition with all the work that you do for Wayne Industries and the Wayne Foundation. While trying to shoehorn a social life in around being a famous crime-fighter." It was official now, all three men were poleaxed. Dick croaked. "I, ahmm, uh, I'm sorry. What did you say?" "I mean to say that Mr. Wayne over there is THE Batman and you Mr. Grayson, would be his partner THE Robin." He was starting to vehemently deny when she raised a finger and placed it on his lips. "Hush sweetie. I have not told any lies, even to Alfred to gain his cooperation. There is no need on your part to tell me any fictions. I will explain who I am and how I came to know of your secret identities." Cecelia then turned to the elderly factotum and requested. "Alfred, please ring the kitchen and have them send up the tea service I had requested. Then you may all sit comfortably as I expound for you a tale that will rival Scheherazade's finest." Turning back to Dick, she gave the bewildered younger crime fighter a comforting pat on the cheek. Before returning to the desk to sit, again picking up the pen to finish her writing. Alfred removed the tea tray from the dumbwaiter. Setting it upon a side table, to begin serving the three of them. As he poured the tea into the cup at her elbow, the young woman looked up at his troubled face, smiled reassuringly and said in a kindly voice. "Have a cup for yourself Alfred, it will be soothing. Then please, have a seat. You are an integral part of this team and undoubtedly will have valuable insights to contribute when the three of you confer later." Miss DeMillo took the page she had been writing on, folded it into thirds then slid it into an envelope she had pre-addressed. She left it sitting on the desk, unsealed and told Alfred. "Please add this to the outgoing mail for tomorrow, to be postmarked for Overseas Express Airmail." She stood, picked up her cup of tea and took a sip. Then came around the desk facing the three men. As she placed the cup and saucer down, she explained. "This is a letter to my Mother, Ms Henrietta Cabot. If you follow the society columns you will know of her. For the next couple of weeks she and her friends will be at the Badhavenhorst Resort/Spa, in Austria, for their annual ritual of taking the waters and playing bridge and gossiping unmercifully about everyone who is not participating." The men smiled faintly at her impish tone. "My father is Thomas H. DeMillo, CEO of the Strident Financial Trust. You have certainly done business and socialized with him. My mother took back her maiden name after they divorced six years ago." Bruce nodded and somehow his visage became even more wary. Wayne Industries and Strident Financial, with Thomas DeMillo at the helm, have been fierce competitors in the marketplace. She was leaning, half sitting against the desk with her arms propping her up as she spoke to the three men. "My full name is Cecelia Atlanta Cabot-DeMillo. When you investigate my short life, you will discover nothing unusual or particularly interesting about me. I am rather average by all measurements." The look on all three men's faces, begged to differ with her self-assessment, but she knew they were just prejudging her based on her most superficial surface features and inherited social status. "So far, I have only a few modest accomplishments or achievements. I have friends but I have never belonged to any clique. I am neither a follower nor a leader. I have never been in trouble with the authorities nor ever been accused of a crime or even had a serious accident. Dull and boring would describe, to date, my chosen lifestyle." "Except for one important difference for which there is no record, public or private. I have some weak psychic powers. Very localized, very unreliable, often very annoying. I am requesting that you respect my secret as I have respected yours." With a troubled expression, maybe even fear, she continued. "Please do not keep any records of this conversation or inform the authorities. I have heard of their experiments attempting to strengthen psychic capabilities and the almost invariable disasters that have resulted. I prefer remaining sane and appearing normal. I will be happy to go through life as an 'average' person." "I think it started when I went through puberty. Except I was very fortunate, that no one else noticed. I avoided the whole poltergeist nightmare. Which is an all-too-common burden upon girl fledgling psychics as their bodies begin to mature into womanhood. My hypothesis is that their blossoming talents attract psychic or otherworldly parasites. Who feed off of ,maybe deliberately encourage, wild swings in their emotional states." Taking a deep breath and letting it out, it was obvious that what she was explaining, had long been a deeply hidden secret. "Instead, I have a weak telepathic ability that can only read fleeting conscious thoughts. A weak clairvoyant ability restricted to very close range in space and time. And third, the ability to *confuse* other psychics trying to *read me*. Perversely that last power seems to be my major ability." She barely controlled her emotional laughter in response to her audience's futile attempts to NOT think about the 'pink polka-dotted ballet-dancing rhinoceros'. "Contrary to logic, my telepathic ability works best with intelligent people with strong minds and stable psyches. That was how I got the code for the front gate...from Mr. Wayne." As his face clouded up, she gave him a silent, apologetic look then continued. "Last week at City Hall, I was standing behind you in the elevator. You were only half-listening to the Mayor's campaign manager as he tried to shake you down for an under-the-table contribution to the Mayor's reelection committee and I *picked up* some interesting information. Including the entrance code, the mansion layout and your security procedures." Bruce's face was crimson as he couldn't blame this on Dick. He mentally made a note to apologize later to his protege. The sardonic glare from Dick implied that an apology was expected. "Dick and I had met at the Spring Cotillion and I admit he had infatuated me and frightened me." "I *discovered* your secret identity then and I have never spoken of it with anyone. I know how to keep secrets." "I needed time to work out my feelings, my desires for you, Dick. So in a way, it was fortunate that an 'accident' kept us apart." "If we had met again, too soon, my fears would have compelled me to deny my feelings for you. Sabotaging myself into running away and never see you again." "That is why clairvoyance is so unreliable. Destiny is fickle and the future is malleable. Our decisions and indecisions can easily change our future course with heedful abandon." "Right now all of you are mainly concerned with my telepathic ability. As I have said, I can only read the most surface of thoughts. Please consider the matter from my personal experience." "99% of the thoughts I will *pickup* on an ordinary day are equally divided between mediocre driving and tediously mediocre sex." "I cannot read your memories or, as far as I know, actually influence your thoughts. Recently I have been experimenting with mentally *projecting* questions with a modest success. As most people simply assumed they were talking to themselves when they sub-vocalize an answer that I can *read*." "Honestly, I deliberately try to avoid most minds as they consist mostly of repetitious twaddle." "Until now I have not risked attempting to *read* criminal minds. Because with psychotics and sociopaths what I *receive* are painful bursts of emotional chaos. This makes me very happy." "I think I would be very, very sorry if I ever had the misfortune to clearly *read* the mind of maniacs like the Joker or the Riddler." "The reason I was at City Hall that day was following through on a promise I had made to a friend of mine. I have known Sylvia Goldie from High School and College and we regularly get together for lunch since." "The week before, she told me about a problem at her employer, the Fur Wholesaler you saved today. My friend had accidentally overheard a couple of senior managers voicing concern about how much money was failing to appear on the books of the Fürst Furs Mercantile Cooperative. Sylvia knew that through my Uncle, Judge Philip Cabot-Lodge, who had been District Attorney several years ago, that I would know some of the people still working in the DA's office." "Meanwhile, as I walked through my favorite downtown neighborhood, I could sense an undercurrent of fear and despair. When you imprisoned the Joker and his lieutenants there was no one to keep his mob together. They had scattered and returned to extorting small shopkeepers and muggings and purse-snatching." "Yes, I am both of your 'Mystery Ladies. God, it feels good to get that off my chest!" She took a moment to finish her cup of tea, to refresh her voice and collect her thoughts. "I went to City Hall and asked sub-vocal questions of the people in the Prosecutor's offices and the Police Commissioner's Office. They unwittingly supplied the information that the embezzler at the Fur Company was known to the authorities already." "A major problem they had with ordering his arrest, was that he had successfully moved his ill-gotten gains to offshore banks. If he was arrested, without stronger evidence, the official investigation ran the risk of him escaping while on bail or even winning an acquittal. They could lose the only hope of getting the money back and saving the business, the Fürst family that owns it and all it's employees and pensioners from financial ruin." "Standing behind you Batman in the elevator, I learned several important things from you that day. First, your courage and determination to make a difference in the world really impressed me. Your example forced me to demand of myself. What can I do to make this world a better place?" "Second, your concern that Dick was alone and lonely but too busy to maintain a mature relationship. I had believed. No! I had convinced myself that he had just made a rich playboy's thoughtless promise to me that night and had gone on to other women. I realized that my original intuition that we might have a destiny together may be possible after all." "Finally, that the Joker had recently been secretly anesthetized for the experimental treatment that would render him comatose for at least a few more weeks. As I walked to the car-park the entire plot congealed in my mind and I understood what I had to do to accomplish my goals." "With a little effort I was able to ferret out the Joker's signals from his thugs. Plus, with what I already knew and what the embezzler's panicky thoughts revealed, I triggered him into deciding to flee. I retrieved the banking transfer ciphers from his mind to return the Company and pension funds the money stolen with interest." "I think you know all the rest of it. Perhaps I stretched some ethical boundaries. I could be accused of violating the criminal's privacy and protection from self-incrimination. Even be accused of inciting the criminal activities for which they have been arrested. However, I believe that I managed to resolve all these conflicts for the greater good of society. Please forgive me if I appear rather smug about it. In my short, uneventful life, I have never before had the courage to be this heroic." "I am proud, that with my assistance 'Justice', if not 'Law', could prevail." "As the 'Mystery Woman' I have no need of public adulation. However, personally, I am a woman with the need, the desire for love. I hereby claim Dick Grayson as my reward." All three men responded with autonomic flinches at this blatantly unconditional demand. "We will attempt living together for a while. Taking the time to learn if our individual lust can learn to become our shared love. If it should turn out that our infatuation fails to evolve, we will have experienced a worthwhile and I believe mutually enjoyable affair." "In the end, if we decide to part, I would hope we will be mature enough to remain lifelong friends." "This brings up my remaining psychic ability, I call it 'Confusion'. The simile I would use is, imagine a shattered mirror. Each broken shard scattered across the floor, reflects that little portion of light that hits it but each shard's reflection is a slightly different point-of-view from all the other pieces." "My ability is not like a classical shielding effect, it does not directly block other psychics from *viewing*. What it seems to do, is bounces back at them a multitude of conflicting *signals*. This causes them to sheer off and avoid *scanning* the area I am in. Every attempt to *scan* my presence, is chaotic *noise* for other psychics. Thereby, having me around would help shield you and your secrets from psychic *probing*." "I have speculated that this paranormal ability actually protected me from the poltergeist parasites." Finally, she ran down. Exhausted at risking the exposure of all her secrets, she went to the table with the tea service and poured herself another cup. Standing there, sipping at the warm liquid to soothe her throat and calm her nerves. Her back to the three men who looked at each other with conflicted expressions. A good story is not always a true story. Even if her interpretation is correct, as far as she knows? There is always a possibility of missing information that could completely alter their perception of events. The problem with psychic influence, is, how can anyone ever be factually certain of the reality of our personal world-view? Putting down the eggshell china cup, she turned and walked back to the crime fighting team and in a small, brave voice said. "I am feeling rather tired. I would guess I am not yet up to the level of endurance being a super-hero requires. I shall go to the Ladies Lounge and stretch out on the divan there. Please give me a half-hour or so. I never nap very long. Then, if there is anything else you wish to ask about, just knock on the door." Not knowing what else to say the three men stood and watched her slip out the door. The fading clacking of her heels on the polished parquet floor, as she walked down the hallway. Suddenly Dick convulsed as he realized that he could be letting happiness walk away. He started for the door to intercept her but Bruce's hand grasping his arm held him back. "Let her rest. We need to make a decision. All or nothing. We trust her totally or we trust her not at all. No half way measures nor do we obfuscate. Every moment, every day she spends here with us, risks everything we have built." With a flash of anger Dick replied. "I am not going to let her, let her...push her, send her away. I want her to want me." "Damn it Dick! Think rationally." "No, Bruce. I won't! This is about the possibility of someone loving ME. LOVE! Not the playboy heir to your corporate empire. Not even the heroic crime-fighter. She could learn to love the real me and I could learn to love the real her. Rational has no place in such a decision!" Dick jerked his arm loose from Bruce's grasp and startled him with a pugnacious glare. And poked at his senior partner chest with a hard forefinger. "I would rather risk everything...And fail miserably! Than totter to my old age with nothing left but empty regrets for the woman I failed to reach back to when she has risked everything...Everything! Too try and reach out to me." Alfred interjected. "Mr. Wayne, he is correct. Our Life's Journey is the Goal and the Prize." Bruce sighed and in a morose tone replied. "I understand the need, the craving for an honest emotional bonding with another human being. Someone you can share your fears and joys with. I have the same desires as other men, as do you." "The worst problem is, that if everything she told us is veritably accurate? Even the most thorough investigation into her background will leave us with the quandary of proving a negative." Robin Bedeviled by Mystery Woman "If we are to accept Miss DeMillo, on her terms, then we must not allow suspicions to fester. If any negative information is revealed, we must all, all four of us together, confront that issue when, if it happens. Trust all the way or not at all!" The other two men were expressing their agreement, when Alfred received a call from the supervisor of the cleaning detail in Dick's suite. "Please excuse the interruption gentlemen. The cleaning detail have some questions. I think Master Dick, we should go up and you can see for yourself what Miss DeMillo has decided for your quarters." ****************************************** ****************************************** ***************************** A Suite for Sweethearts ***************************** A few minutes later, the three men walked into what used to be young Master Dick's room and was now a suite. The opened entrance between the two rooms plus the new furniture really changed the atmosphere. The combination of masculine and feminine forced Dick to confront that this was now a place that adults will inhabit together. 'Cohabit. This is what that word means!' The supervisor Mrs. Prentice asked as she waved a hand at the luggage, then at one of the uniformed cleaning staff standing nearby. "Excuse me gentlemen, shall we unpack the young lady's luggage? Or would she prefer to do that herself? Kelly has had some experience as a lady's maid. Probably some of the clothes will need to be pressed before hanging." Dick asserted himself by turning to the indicated woman, a tall, wiry middle-age red-head with a pale coffee complexion. "Kelly? Would you prefer Miss or Mrs.?" She replied with a strange accent, a combination of Texas twang and Irish brogue. "Kelly is fone sar. I've no druthers." "Ms Kelly, down under the great stairs is the Ladies Lounge. Miss DeMillo is there having a lie down. She mentioned that she only takes short naps so it should be permissible for you to interrupt her. Please tell her that I request that she come up to our suite to see if there are any last minute changes she would consider necessary before your team leaves." "Yas sar." She left at a brisk pace. {Father was Black Texan-American serviceman, USAF Sergeant. While stationed in Great Britain, he met and married Fae Scrínársa, an Irish Tinker woman. When he retired from the Air Force, he brought them to Texas, where he had inherited an 40 acre truck farm from his deceased Uncle.} {When Kelly was eighteen, she visited some of her mother's family in Ireland and England for two years. She traveled with her Great Aunt Deas Gealach as a companion/maid. Four years later when her elderly Great Aunt was seriously ill, Kelly returned and for the next year lived with her as a companion/nurse before the senescent woman passed on,} Bruce looked warily at his no-longer-so-young protege, then turned to Alfred and said. "I will leave it to you two then. Alfred, please bring me a light supper in my study, at seven. And Dick, you have my complete trust. This is an important responsibility, please respect Miss DeMillo's emotions." As Bruce Wayne walked down the stairs, he met Cecelia and Kelly coming up. They paused and from right below him, the young woman looked up at his concerned expression. She reached and gently touched his arm and with a glint of tears in her eyes, whispered her gratitude. "Have a good evening Miss DeMillo." "Please, Cecelia." "Of course, have a good evening Cecelia."
 "And yourself...Bruce." The cleaning crew were bustling about pretending to be preoccupied while giving each other significant glances when they weren't stealing curious looks at Dick. Alfred and Mrs. Prentice gave each other sour looks, they knew that gossip would spread like wildfire. Tim just stood there in the middle of what used to be his room, oblivious to the silent semaphoring all around him until suddenly She was standing in the doorway. He was amazed that such a beautiful woman seemed to be genuinely interested in him, personally and not the Wayne fortune or the dashing crime-fighter. She looked at him with a timid smile, her eyes were a little puffy, she must have had a cry and then washed her face. Kelly whispered in her ear, indicating the luggage waiting in the other room. Cecelia went up to the Supervisor and extended her hand and as the two women shook hands, the younger woman said warmly. "Mrs. Prentice? I want to thank you and your team for doing such a inopportune task at the last minute. Would it be possible for Kelly to stay with me and assist me with my unpacking?" She leaned close to the older woman and in a stage whisper. "Alfred is a dear but let us girls be honest, men do not understand the madness of female methodology. Their sense of orderly does not always coincide with ours." All the women giggled, Alfred accepted the joke with good humor. Only Dick looked baffled and then he blushed when he realized that the women were now laughing at his befuddled expression. "Certainly Miss DeMillo. We have always found Kelly to be a most reliable employee. Please take a look around and let me know if there is anything else my team can do before we are reassigned." The two women smiled and nodded at each other. Cecelia walked through what will now probably be called the sitting room then back into the bedroom. Dick was still firmly planted in the middle of the floor, never taking his eyes off of her. As Cecelia walked closely past him, her left hand brushed against his left arm. She briefly glanced at the queen-sized bed and overflowing bookcases and peeked into his walk-in closet. Then she went into the large bath and came out and smiled again at the cleaning staff. "Very good. I do not see anything needing further attention. If something should come up I will inform Alfred and he will decide what assistance is required. Thank you again, all of you, for your diligence." Mrs. Prentice signaled the other women it was time to go, she stopped at Kelly and said. "Kelly, when Miss DeMillo releases you, call me and I will direct you to your next job." "Yas, Messas Prendess. Seeyah ghals onna flepsidhe." The staff giggled at the flippancy as they gathered their cleaning supplies and the old window drapery to be replaced, as they left. Alfred politely suggested for the new couple. "I presume that for tonight you would wish to dine ensuite. What time would you prefer, Mister Grayson?" Dick gulped and looked at his watch, it was four thirty. Unsure, he turned his head to ask Cecelia but the words just froze in his mind as he suddenly realized that she was standing right next to him. Looking up at him with those lovely sea-blue eyes. She encouraged. " A light supper at six?" Kelly was moving the luggage over to between the bureau and the wall of closets. The make-up case she placed on the mirrored vanity table. Dick found the strength to say. "Yes, Albert. Make it at six, perhaps an antipasto platter or a seafood salad. And a bottle of Champagne!" "Very good sir. If there is nothing else, I will leave you and the young lady and return at six p.m.." Cecelia uttered sincerely. "Thank you so very much Albert for all that you have done for me today!" "The pleasure has been equally mine, Miss DeMillo." As he closed the door, the two them turned to one another, standing close and looking, searching one another's eyes. Then they melted together, their arms around one another as their lips met in an exploratory kiss. Then again with tentative awkwardness. By the third try it was a wild adventure ride of passion as their lips locked and their tongues tasted. They heard a giggle and broke apart in a mutual embarrassment when they remembered they were not completely alone. Kelly was watching, with her hands pressed to her smiling lips. "Ah beg youall pardahn, Ah don't n'tend ta ehmbhress youall. It's justd, thad for ta resd'f uhs? Ta see ah freish new love, alltagether youad given usall hope'nd cheer. Thet suj joy is still apossible inna thisd uld warld." Cecelia came over to her temporary assistant and they hugged with tearful glee. "Goodness, Kelly. You are a wise philosopher!" Dick shook his head in wonderment while kicking off his loafers into his closet. As he walked to his, no, 'their' bathroom, he could hear the two women melodiously converse as they unpacked Cecelia's luggage. The sound of their voices brought a warm glow to his stomach. This was really happening to him! ****************************************** ****************************************** ************************** Sex as a Metaphor for Wildfire ************************** At six, as Alfred was pushing the cart with supper to Master Dick's room. No, he corrected his thinking, Mister Grayson's suite. Kelly came out of the door carrying some women's clothes. With a laughing good bye trailing behind her. "Mestarh Ahlfredt, Ah whell tahke 'hese hohme wit mhe ahnd retorn ehm prhess'd themorrow. Messas Prendess ahnd dhe ghals har wait'n fur mai ad dhe rare ntrance fur dhe vhan ta packus uhp. 'hishad been ta mosd hnjoy'ble jhob. Puleeze kull 'ponus ve'nevar whey mhay bhe huf sorvess ta yourall 'mployers." "I certainly will do so. As a matter of fact I have requested for your team to return tomorrow for any assistance the decorators may need." "Thaded bhey swell, 'ave ah ghood ehvenin' sar." "Good evening Ms Kelly." He pushed the cart through the door and into the sitting room, over to a small round cafe table with two matching chairs, next to the credenza. Master Dick. No! Mister Grayson. Yes, Mister Grayson, was now standing by one of the reopened windows of the anteroom. Obviously amazed at this unexpected view of the garden. Miss DeMillo must be in the bathroom, he could hear water running. An album of Nat King Cole singing, softly played in the background. Since the young man did not do more then briefly glance at him with a smile and nod before returning his gaze out the window, Alfred went ahead with the dinner preparations. Laying out the linen cloths over the credenza and the small cafe table, then setting out an assortment of covered dishes, a freestanding ice bucket with the protruding neck of a magnum of champagne and a table setting for two. After a final bustling about, the elderly butler stepped back, pursed his lips and nodded his satisfaction. Then the bathroom door open and a goddess appeared. In multiple layers of silky chiffon. A floor length, waist-gathered negligé in a pale rose color, covered by a matching chiffon robe of dark rose tint. Both men stared in wonderment at this glorious vision as she crossed the newly opened space towards Dick. He broke out of his trance and advanced to meet her with long, eager strides. "You are gorgeous, Cecelia!" Her dimpled smile thanked him for the compliment before they met, embraced and kissed with slow burning passion. Alfred was fussing again at uncovering the serving platters, pretending not to stare. As they separated with smoldering glances flying between them, Alfred popped the cork! The man and the woman smiled self-consciously and moved to the table. Dick pulled out her chair and carefully adjusted it as she sat. From behind her, he could not resist caressing her lovely hair then both his hands gently rested on her shoulders as he inhaled the seductively mingled scents of perfume and woman. She closed her eyes and her red lips parted to the tip of her tongue as she sighed in her enjoyment of his possessive touch. Dick forced himself to circle the table, groaning in his mind at the effort to sit himself across from her. Compelling himself to sit! Impatiently mentally undressing her. Using all his hard learned self-discipline to resist the primal urge to sweep away the wall of table between them and ravage her...Right Here!...Right Now! Her eyes sparkled as she *read* his desire. Alfred poured the champagne and as they silently toasted one another with a gentle clink of crystal and smoldering glances that promised shared passions to come. He prepared them each a plate of assorted seafoods and accouterments. Once served and a refill from the magnum, he bid them good evening. As he began his withdrawal, once again Cecelia managed to surprise both men when she said. "Again thank you for everything. And Alfred, if there is an emergency. Do not. I repeat. Do Not hesitate to interrupt us!" Dick uttered a choked denial when she leaned across the table to press a couple of fingers against his vehement disagreement. "Hush darling. In an emergency Albert, you do what you Must do. Dick, I expect you to do Your Duty." With tears in her eyes, she repeated that famous phrase uttered by a thousand generations of brave warrior's steadfast women. "Return with your shield or on it, Soldier. No less do I expect from My Hero!" Albert bowed his head in respect to her feminine wisdom, murmuring his understanding as he closed the door behind him. Dick sat there stunned with the enormity of this woman's love thundering in his ears like an avalanche. Finally they were alone, together. Dick looked at her and for the first time saw past the skin of "Beautiful Woman" whose body he ached to conquer. He could see the intelligence and the courage of the person who is Miss Cecelia DeMillo. Soon to be his lover and with more luck then he felt he truly deserved, eventually she would be so much more to him, for him, forever more. They sampled the dishes and sipped at the champagne and discussed some of the current events in the news. They both simmered, secretly communicating with pheromones and lust filled glances. Seeking to prolong their desires while slowly basking in the pleasure of each others company. Finally Dick just stopped. Stopped eating. Stopped drinking. Stopped talking. Stopped thinking. He just sat there dumbly taking in her beauty and charm and wit. His mind and body made it obvious as to his intentions. The lust flashing across his mind in waves of masculine greed pounded at Cecelia's consciousness as she placed her empty champagne flute down. His primal desires flooded her mind, she could feel her body responding with a deep crawling, fear driven, pleasure. Her nipples were taut and her vulva dripped with feminine lust. Suddenly her body flared with passion, she felt as if she was burning up! Jumping to her feet and shedding her robe in a futile attempt to cool off. As she rose, knocking his chair back Dick stood to thwart her escape. He lurched towards her and crushed her supple body into his embrace as she responded with her arms up around his neck, with wild biting kisses to the base of his throat. His strong hands seized her buttocks through the single layer of the chiffon negligé and lifted her high enough that their lips and tongues could freely share their urgent passion. Cecelia gasped into his mouth as his hands, roughly squeezing her bottom, rubbing thousands of her nerve endings with the chiffon, triggered her first small wave of orgasmic pleasure. He growled and sliding one hand down to the back of her thighs suddenly lifted to carry her to the bed. It seemed to both of them, it was taking a million years to cross that few yards of space to the bed. As he stood beside the bed. He shifted his hands, freeing one to grab the covers and yank them to the floor out of the way. Suddenly gentle, he laid his goddess out to be worshiped upon that altar of love. Her golden-brown hair like a halo around her head on the pillows. Through the sheer, pale rose material he could see her harden nipples against the rise and fall of her breasts. Then down to the not quite concealing promise of her patch of pubic hair capping the swell of her mons. Barely making out the cleft of her vulva below. He could see there was a small damp spot on the front of the negligé. He inhaled the intoxicating musk of her aroused femininity. Their eyes locked as he began to undress, heedlessly flinging his clothing behind him in the general direction of his valet-stand. Her hands tugged at the ribbons holding her negligé together. A muscular young man loomed above her, his penis already at attention. She sat up silently begging him to help her remove her garment. As she slipped her arms free and her small pear shape breasts with bright pink aureole and swelling nipples were exposed, he uttered an appreciative growl. Then he reached down and with both hands gathered the material and yanked it free, spinning her luscious nude body over onto her front. He dropped the negligé to the floor and crawled onto the bed. Sitting besides her, with his knees folded under him. With his erection trapped between his muscled thighs. Both his hands reached out and began to run up and down her soft, lightly tanned flesh. Up her thighs to fondle her buttocks, then continue up parallel to her spine to her neck. He tenderly brushed her curls to one side, then strongly began to massage her neck. "Please...please continue." She purred to his ministrations. Several minutes of this relaxed Cecelia into a haze of mild, never ending pleasure. While Dick massaged her shoulders and upper arms and then with long deep strokes of his hands to the right and left of her spine. As he worked around her sides, she was about to giggle from the tickling sensation when he laid his body on top of hers. His erection rubbing the crease of her butt cheeks as his legs forced her thighs apart. He lifted her body a couple of inches, slipping his hands under to grab her breasts as she moaned at the heavy weight crushing down upon her. She was gasping for air when he cantilevered his upper body from his knees. His hands remained clamped to her breasts as he bridged, forcing her upper body to bend a few inches backwards. Her head raised, she cried out in startled pain as he pinched her sensitive nipples. In mid cry this became a moan of sensual delight as the signals from her abused bosom was misinterpreted by her vagina as pleasure and it began to contract deep within her with another small orgasm. Panting with excitement, Cecelia propped herself up on her elbows and knees allowing his hands to work his strong fingers down the front of her arching body to her thighs. She groaned into the down pillow she clutched, turning her head to look over at the mirrored door to Tim's walk-in closet. The lovely brunette could watch herself and the gorgeously handsome man behind her as he manipulated her voracious body like a violinist fine-tuning his instrument before playing a concerto. In her mind flashed the image of the scene from the movie '1776', where Blythe Danner as Martha Jefferson was singing that saucy tune, 'When he plays his violin, oh he bows and he bows'. Cecelia giggled at the memory, then as Dick hit several pleasure points in quick succession, her giggles became soft cries of passion and a few tears leaked from her eyes to match the liquid perfume wantonly dribbling from her pink inner flesh. She shuddered to feel the trail of slimy moisture his penis was trailing down her butt and along the back of her legs. Now his hands were strongly massaging her buttocks in a circular motion that exposed her tiny, dark tan sunburst and her engorged pink labia blossoming to his hungry view at every orbit. Scooting back, Dick began to run his hands down the back of her thighs with a proprietary intensity that sent a steady stream of pleasure signals causing her vagina to contract again and again. Cecelia clenched her teeth and tried to concentrate on math problems in a futile attempt to slow down and stretch out the latest outburst of sensual spasms.