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Drabbles of Babs

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User name: Batman

Search files... B a t g i r l


... Opening computer file


Code Name: Batgirl

Actual Name: Barbara Gordon

Age: 23 years old

Occupation: librarian for the Gotham city library system

Education: high school education Riverside High School (finished two years early)  --  Graduated summa cum laude from Gotham State University with a dual doctorate in Computer Science and Criminal Forensics

Skills:  subject holds a black belt in judo, skilled in several other martial arts, a computer prodigy, subject possesses a high IQ, is proficient at athletics, has studied criminal forensics... more


Traits: Flirty, Intelligent, Outspoken, Eidetic memory, Athletic, Speedy shapely and Flexible.

Appearance: Petite build, lavender eyes, copper-red hair, heart-shaped face, curvaceous  normal womanly figure

(damn it, why did I type that?...  COMPUTER delete highlighted information)


 See Next Page Of File...



Background: Miss Gordon was a track star in high school in her freshman year, yet she pretended to be an average student, she also affected to injure her leg to get off the track team, she was at the time terrified that she was looking much too intelligent and athletic.

(She likely desired her civilian identity to be very distinctive to that of Batgirl, I don't condemn her for that, she never deceived me, though. I saw right through her artifice.)


Traits: As Batgirl, she's often rather flirty, she's sharp and not afraid to show it, she possesses a perfect memory, she's a computer prodigy, she's highly intelligent, has long thick and delicious, copper-colored hair, possesses an outstanding athletic body, wears a lightly armored uniform, she's acrobatic, and she has a secret sensei

(at least that's what she thinks, he sighs)


Batman re-reads her file once more, deleting all the personal items and remarks.

This is meant to be a working personnel database after all, not a private diary, and they don't belong here.

He sighed, frustrated.

He didn't want her to read his personal opinions of her, or to know how he really felt about her. He knew in his heart that it would hurt their partnership, and she was clever enough to infiltrate even his highly encrypted personal files.

Why was he concerned about her curves, her luscious hair, heart-shaped face, and her violet eyes?

He pictures her in her uniform, form-fitting to the point of straining his self-control. It's not that it's obscenely tight, or shows more than any other heroine shows (he knows that many of them show much more skin than she does) but his imagination just won't quit. He keeps picturing himself removing her uniform piece by piece.

He knows where all the closures are, he could probably undress her in under a minute.

Hell, he could do it in thirty seconds if he needed to.

And hell, he wanted to, so badly. 


That's why he had to keep his distance.

She wasn't jailbait, she was 23 for god's sake, but he was almost 40. 

God, he couldn't stop thinking of her.


He was alone down here, and he found his hand wandering into his shorts, working himself into a frenzy as he pictured her naked flesh.