Batgirl and Killer Moth in:  The Perils of Mixing Professions and Pleasure!

Batgirl scaled the side of the building, her feet banging out a drumbeat off the rusty steel fire escape.  She was cutting it close this time, the heist was going down at 11pm according to her info and it was already past 10:50.  Last minute caper, barely anyone knew anything and it took forever for Babs to suss out the details from the rumors.  Now here she was, no backup, no mission control, just trying to get to the roof of an adjacent building with enough time to catch the whole crew trying to go in through the skylights.  Her heart pounding and her breath a little ragged, she parkoured up the top floor emergency access and vaulted onto the roof.  Dropping low she scrambled to the opposite edge, looking down over the building containing a private security vault.  She had to be careful, this was the closest vantage point but there was still enough open air between the buildings that she was a sitting duck if they noticed her swinging down.

Hitting the edge she popped out a small pair of binoculars and looked over her landing zone.  A single man waited, his back to her, sitting and smoking a cigarette.  Babs pounded the roof's edge with her fist, "Too late," she recriminated and pulled back to think for a second.  One guy on the roof facing away from her, somewhere between 3 and 4 guys on the interior crew according to her informants, and an unknown quantity of hired muscle backing them up.  Against that were six security guards, two down at the front desk, four roaming the building, and one Batgirl playing catch up.  Guards all had guns, and she wagered at least some of the thieves did too.  She had to work fast.

With a deep breath she pulled her spare grapple gun out and anchored its line.  Holding it in her off-hand, she pointed the other grapple gun at the building below her and pulled the trigger.  As soon as the hook hit she pressed the button to reel in, the slack quickly disappearing before she was pulled off the side of the building by its force.  In her other hand she carefully released slack to the line attached to her former vantage point and allowed her self to tether to two lines.  The wind whistled past her ears, her shoulders felt like they were going to rip out of their sockets, and her hands were numb to anything other than the pain of herculean effort to keep her grasp.  But it was faster than gravity.  If only she could nail the landing.

As the rooftop rushed up, she detached the lines and went into freefall; the fast approaching roof coming into detailed clarity as she continued face first until the last possible moment, rolling forward she took the impact across half her body as she let the momentum carry her back to her feet.  Whether or not her shoulder was dislocated could wait, she came up off the ground in a full sprint and charged the man sitting across the roof from her.  She had closed half the distance before he even realized she had landed, and turned to her, a blank look on his face and cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.  As she raised her fist, he limply waved to her and Babs recognized the violet and gold jumpsuit of Killer Moth.

"Hey Batgirl," he said softly, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and stubbing it out on the sole of his boot.

Despite her best efforts, she clumsily lurched to a stop - fist punching wildly only a few inches from face - curiosity had gotten the better of her and refused to listen to the part of her brain that said questions come after violence.  She stood there a moment drinking in the scene.  Killer Moth, d-list supervillain, professional interloper in vigilante activities (his words, not hers), and long-running fashion victim, was on the otherwise undisturbed rooftop of a security vault that should be experiencing a burglary at that very moment.  He had to be the hired muscle, but where was the crew?  Was she early?  Why wasn't he fighting her?  A blinding flash of obviousness hit her when she realized he wasn't even wearing his helmet, he was sitting on it.  She glanced around as confusion began sitting in: skylights intact, power boxes untouched, the only thing out of place were two people in costumes and some cigarette butts on the ground.

"Don't 'Hey Batgirl' me, Killer Moth, no one's robbing this vault tonight!" she managed to get out after a few seconds.

"Well, yeah," he said and pushed himself to his feet, stretching as he stood up, "gig went south."

Batgirl shifted her weight, ready to throw hands at a moments notice, "You'd like me to believe that."

Killer Moth hooked his boot under his helmet and kicked it upwards, a smug look of petty satisfaction on his face as he caught it with one hand, "Believe it or not, but my employers were no-shows."  He dropped the helmet over his head, seating it with hard knock between the antennae.  "I've been up here an hour, things were supposed to have kicked off..." he checked his watch "...half an hour ago."

"Bullshit."

"Why's that?  Cold feet, one of the big boys got wind of this and dissuaded them, you name it.  Once I had to scrub swiping six million in museum pieces because my driver blabbed to a stripper.  Shit happens."

Batgirl refused to let her guard down despite her recognizing the validity in his words.  She and Robin had once foiled a Two-Face scheme before it started by breaking a key off in the ignition of a boat.  She pursed her lips, her adrenaline pushing her towards a fight, maybe she could bust him on littering?  Finally she sighed and dropped her guard.

"So what now?"

"I'm calling it a night, my deposit is non-refundable so everything is coming up Dru Walker right now.  We'll throw down some other time, B."

Despite his words he just stood there silently across from her, both of them just fidgeting as the wind blew around them.  He made a few abortive attempts to walk off which were followed by a few abortive attempts attempts to stop him.  After a few seconds of looking at each other while trying not to look like they were looking at each other, Babs broke out into a soft smile as Dru chuckled.

"Not exactly what I was expecting from this night, Dru."

"Me either, but I got paid.  Sorta."

A few more seconds passed before he spoke up again.

"Babs, were you, uh, were you wanting to maybe go back to and, you know..."

Babs tried not to look bemused at him dancing around but found herself equally tiptoeing around.

"I don't know, it's just not the same when..."

"We haven't been chasing each other around or beating the shit out each other as foreplay?"

Babs couldn't help but laugh hearing it out loud even though she tried her best to not actually think about what that statement said about them, much less herself.

"We're really fucked up, aren't we, Mothy?  But yeah, it's lacking that certain je ne sais quoi if we're not bruised or bleeding.  But I can't really let you get away with your ill-gotten gains, now can I?"

Dru readied himself for a fight before he decided that there was something between the lines.  He wasn't sure, and part of him really hoped he wasn't going to screw everything up, but he decided to lay it all out and see what happened.

"I know this great little late night dessert place slash bar."

Babs was caught off guard, she had been expecting a punchup followed by maybe third base, not a nightcap.  Before she could even process she heard herself blurt out, "Sure."

Both of them were shocked by what had just gone down, but tried their best to play it off like nothing out of the ordinary.

"It's a dat...deal," Killer Moth stammered, the bass of his voice cracking like middle schooler, "we can go get changed and you can meet me at the parking garage at 39th and Binder.  An hour and a half enough time?"

Babs bit her lips and nodded, silently watching her secret supervillain something complicated activate his flight rig and buzz off into the night.  She turned around and looked at the empty rooftop, scanning the surrounding buildings for anyone possible watching, before finally letting out a long, exasperate exhale directed at herself.

"Ssssssuuuuuurrrrrrreeeeeeeee..."

						********************************

Babs throttled down the engine of her bike as she pulled into the parking garage.  Her stomach was still in knots and her chest felt tight and claustrophobic.  She could just turn right around and head home.  She didn't owe him anything.  They had something simple:  fight then fuck.  Sure, sometimes there was late night junk food or sleeping it off at his hideout, and that thing last Halloween that didn't really count.  She grabbed the ticket from the machine and pulled into her designated parking space.  Batman bones his supervillainesses; Batgirl leaves all the criminals with broken hearts, broken legs, and begging for more.  This was the kind of thing she had chided Bruce and Dick and Helena about, getting involved, making it personal.  She checked herself in the rearview mirror.  The first name basis was bad enough, now she's having drinks and dessert.  Smoothing out her shirt, she touched up her makeup.  This can't go on.  Was the perfume too much?  Straightening her shoulders, she headed to the entrance of the parking deck.

"Dru!" she shouted, only to be met by the sight of a shadowed figure leaning up against the concrete wall.  A long drag on his cigarette lit his high cheekbones and square jaw in fiery red light, and he looked up at her intently.  At that moment all of Barbara Gordon's misgivings and mental debates about the evening and what she was doing disappeared, replaced by a giddy mirth that had her break out in laughter.

"Oh my god, did you, did you really think that would make you look cool, Dru?"

The intense look on Drury Walker's face was suddenly replaced by vulnerable shame and he flushed as red his cigarette's cherry in embarrassment.  Quickly he tossed the cigarette away and stood up, clearing his throat as he approached her.

"N-no, come on, what am I, fifteen?"  He felt naked and afraid in the presence of Babs' withering and mocking smile, and could think of nothing more to say that would salvage the situation.  With nothing left, he simply put his hands on her waist and pulled her in.  She put her hands on his and together they stood there, her smile to his embarrassment, for a moment before he leaned in to kiss her.

"Not 'til you've had a breath mint," she chided as she turned his face away with her hand, letting him grumble as he fished a stick of gum from his pocket and shoved it in his mouth.  After a few chews she gave him a quick peck on the lips and took up position beside him.  "Lead the way," she commanded and they set off down the sidewalk.  She considered wrapping her arm around his, but thought better of it and settled for simply pressing her shoulder against his.

After a few blocks of quiet walking Dru spat his gum into the street.  Before Babs could say anything, he put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her down a side alley before planting a heavy kiss on her lips.  Relaxing, Babs wrapped her arms around Dru, pressing their bodies together hard, and continued the kiss.  Tongues snaking between their lips, she tasted the hot bitter smokiness of his breath and felt weak at the knees.  The rope-like cords of his muscles held her tight and a part of her wanted to jump up and wrap her legs around his waist.  She didn't care if anyone could see them, she didn't care they were six feet from the street, she barely managed to pull herself back and put some distance between them.  "Lets," she panted, "lets not get too carried away.  Just yet."  She wiped a bit of spit off her lips as they smiled at each other and fought the urge to continue making out.  Snaking her arm around his, they leaned against each other as they walked out of the alley and sauntered down to the restaurant.

Passing through heavy wooden doors, a hostess quickly greeted them before whisking them to a cloth covered table decorated under dim, mood lighting where they, sitting indistinguishable from the other couples, quietly perused the menu, sneaking occasional glances at the other.  "So..." said Dru, breaking the silence since they sat down, "what do we even talk about as normal people?  I'm kinda not ready to drop the whole secret life thing."

Babs opened her mouth to answer but realized she didn't know either.  "Work?"  She shrugged then looked around at the other customers surrounding their table, "Can we even talk about work with everyone here?"

Dru eyeballed the crowd surrounding them and made a noncommittal gesture.  "Maybe if we phrase it like we're a couple of cape fanboys, but that doesn't seem like something you'd be dow-"

"Is it true that Encantadora tongue punched Superman's tonsils?"  Babs leaned forward eagerly.

Dru blinked a couple of times in surprise at Babs' reaction, then leaned forward to answer, "I don't know who Encantadora is."

"Really?  Hispanic, does illusions, giant set of bolt-ons?"  Babs waved her hands a few inches from her chest for emphasis.  "You really don't know?"

He shook his head, "I've been to Metropolis maybe three times in my life.  And the last time..."  He trailed off as their server approached and rattled off the specials, in response to which he just ordered chocolate cake and a stout while Babs picked the petit four sampler and recommended wine pairing.  He waited until the server left and rested his head on his hand, "I kinda expected you to order the most expensive thing on the menu," he chimed with a lopsided smile.

"Weeeelllllllll, just because I'm depriving you of your...sorta...ill-gotten gains doesn't mean I'm going to be That Girl.  Plus I refuse to eat anything covered in gold leaf on principle.  So what happened the last time you were in Metropolis?"

Dru dropped his voice down to a whisper so no one else could hear him, "I was in town for less than 3 hours before Superman hauled me off to Stryker's, carrying me by my belt."

Babs managed to hold off laughing for a few seconds before it began to leak through between her teeth and over her tongue, a throaty closed mouth giggle that drew the attention of everyone sitting nearby and continued unabated as their server placed their food in front of them while side-eyeing her.  It wasn't until long after he had left that the Babs regained her composure and only the occasional chuckle squeaked out as she picked up her fork.  "Sorry," she uttered, followed by one last giggle.

Dru waved his hand dismissively and brought a bite to his lips.  "My turn.  So Catman and Huntress?"

Babs took a sip of wine and returned to her cakes.  "Yes, now no."

Dru nodded his head and both of them ate in silence, listen to the indistinct sounds of nearby tables and the bar, punctuated by the occasional outburst from the kitchen.  Babs had begun playing with her food, prodding and breaking down the small cakes to her amusement when the sound of Dru clearing his throat drew her attention back to him.

"Why'd you start?"

She looked him in the eyes for a moment then cast her glance aside.  "You were there," she said, her tone almost nostalgic.

"Bu-"

"Why'd you start?"  She stared right into his eyes as she cut him off, waiting to see his reaction.

He shrugged and sat quietly.  "I was already a criminal.  I guess I decided that I needed to be a more garish one."

Silence returned to the table and Babs resumed picking at her food.  "I think..." she started after a minute, "if I had to be honest, I started because Barbara is the kind of person who'd go through life under a cloud of dissatisfaction, but Batgirl...Batgirl...God, I must sound like a complete idiot."

"I get paid to wear a bug costume and fight people."  He raised his glass to Barbara, "here's to the idiots, B."

Barbara clinked her glass against his.  "To the idiots, Mothy."

"So now the heavy stuff is ou-"

HELLO DADDY!  HELLO MOM!  I'M YOUR CH-CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB!

Babs flustered with embarrassment and pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket to silence the ringer.  "Sorry, sorry, when I'm on the bike it's hard to know its ringing even with the ear piece in.  I'll jus-"

HELLO DADDY!  HELLO MO-

Babs quickly silenced her phone and grimaced at Dru as she set the phone on the table.  "It can wait until we're-"

The phone made a dull buzzing noise, muffled by the tablecloth, as it vibrated itself across the table.  Dru cocked an eyebrow at Babs, "Just answer it."

Babs picked it up sheepishly and turned her head, yelling as loud as she could whisper, "What is it, Frankie, I'm in the middle of a thing!"

"Why haven't you been answering your communicator?  That security vault job you had me look into, it's happening right now!  The direct security line just went dead and I'm picking up a localized cell service outage!"

Frankie continued talking but Babs couldn't hear it, she slowly turned to face Dru, all the blood seeming to rush from her face to the pit of her stomach.  He was checking his watch, the corners of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk that slowly morphed into a domineering, almost sadistic, smile as he stared right into her eyes.

"Oh man," he said, with faux self-recrimination, "don't I look stupid, getting the time mixed up.  Especially after I spent all evening telling every lowlife gossip and snitch that the heist was going down at 11pm instead of 1am.  To the idiots indeed."

Babs clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white and she felt blood seeping under her fingertips.  Dru slowly grabbed another forkful of cake and brought it to his mouth, scraping the fork across his teeth and never flinching from Babs' hateful gaze, chewing slowly and dramatically as she sat paralyzed with anger.  Without a single conscious thought she grabbed wine glass and threw its contents in his face.  With that everyone sitting nearby turned to look at them, and Babs felt naked and afraid under their gaze, every productive thought buried under a blood-hot haze.  Dru, his face and hair dripping, slowly grabbed another bite as his victorious stare continued to burn a hole deep into Babs' soul.

"Feel free to storm out anytime; I've got the check."