addy and steph are the (blondebat) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-08-22 07:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | door: dc comics, riddler, stephanie brown |
who Older!Steph and Thief!Eddie
what Gotham's sweethearts get their BatCat on (Part I of II).
when Recently.
where Gotham Museum.
warning harsh kissies, touchies, and a thief on the loose and a bat on the prowl.
Plastered on Stephanie’s computer in familiar, green blocky text was a remarkably easy riddle: “What Golden Riddler asked the violet question 1st?” First golden Riddler? Well, the golden sphinx statue at Gotham Museum (one Eddie had stole a couple times before) seemed like the obvious choice. Too obvious. Maybe the Riddler was getting soft. After all, the last time he saw Batgirl, they had worked together to take down a gang that got into the habit of beheading people who didn’t pay what they owed. When it was all finished he lingered a little longer than he should have, looked at her with dark eyes that said more than this is just good business before vanishing into the night with a glimmer, glimmer of green and advanced technology. Eddie was fully aware when he showed a weakness for her and frankly it embarrassed him. Later, he even tried to duplicate the look he gave her in the mirror the next morning as if he were afraid there was a crack in his charming, grinning, rogue persona. When he got it just right he saw an intimate look of pride, confidence, and worst of all trust. Batgirl had chased him across Gotham for years now, so she must have caught it too. She must have thought something changed. And, he wasn’t going to have any of that.
The riddle pointed most clearly to the Museum, but the real answer was hidden in logic jumps only someone who had gone toe-to-toe with him for so long would catch. Golden Riddler were actually meant to be initials G.R. to stand for Gotham River. The 1st pointed to the First National Bank. And, the question? Well, the question was a little inside joke between them. Years ago, he had been captured by her father by meddling a little too deep in things he shouldn’t have. He escaped once and before Arthur’s goons dragged him back inside, he wrote a giant question mark in a paint only her high-tech cowl could see in a pretty shade of violet. She figured it out, saved his life and since then that question mark had never been washed off the alley brickwall. With the pieces put together, she could see that another game was happening across town. A robbery of the First National Bank with a getaway on the Gotham River and the stash hidden at the question mark.
It would have been romantic, if he wasn’t trying to rob a bank right under her nose.
The Riddler was betting that Batgirl wouldn’t pick up on it, though and would chase him to the museum on blind rage that he was out thieving again. He was banking on the fact that if he called, she chased. The goons wouldn’t even come to mind if he was galavanting around a museum full of valuables.
So, there he was in the Ancient Egyptian exhibit. All the guards neatly tied up. All the security cameras dead as doornails. All the trip lasers set to his neon green and harmless as a sleeping cat in a sunbeam. He was somewhere in the life-sized model of Cleopatra’s throne room, admiring the Hollywood style approach they took to history for the purpose of increasing visitors in the least tourist friendly town in America. He ran his delicate hands over a lion with his giant paw on top of a stone ball. Riddler knew this place by heart and while the people of Gotham liked to think their taxes made the building belong to the community, he knew it was actually his. Anything here he could take, sell, give or hide and no one, not even her could stop him.
Dressed in a perfectly cut black suit with a tie of bright green question marks and a dark green domino mask that made him look like a dangerous man infiltrating a masquerade, he twirled his brass cane full of surprises as he waltzed towards the Golden Sphinx. “Are you there? I’m going to steaaaal it. And, I think I’m still a faster runner than you, so once it’s in my hands I’m gone.” He said to what he believed was an empty room. His twirling cane projecting various glimmering energy barriers to keep him safe. Like a rotating, changing protective shield.
But the room wasn’t empty at all. High above his head, in the rafters of the roof, Batgirl stalked her prey like a cougar looking for its next meal. She had arrived some time after he had, long enough to give him time to set up all of this. To fiddle with the settings, hijack the security, tie up the guards, all the things necessary for a heist with the usual Riddler flair. With the green and the glitz and the smarmy sort of bragging that screamed the question-marked man. She knew what she was getting into that night. She knew it the moment that her computer froze up, replacing her caseworking with blocky text in that shade of green seared in her mind. Green, really, would never mean anything but him, just like she was sure that purple always pointed back to her. They were tangoing for years, after all, and sometimes things just stuck. Like the way he filled her with so much hate sometimes, but an incomparable sort of desire and need at the same time.
The blonde bat knew the Riddler too well, frankly, but then again, he was sort of her own personal archnemesis with a twist. The Joker to her Batman. They had a tangled sort of history that traced years and years back, and everyone knew that there was something going on with them, but the blonde bat and green man were always awful with addressing any sort of feelings like that. But, she knew him, knew that despite the fact that she caught that look he gave her (a glance that maybe, maybe she’d thought about for days later), that Riddler wouldn’t go that soft on her. Would never make it so easy. Even if this was anything more than business or a peculiar game of cat-and-mouse. So, though she immediately wanted to go the museum because duh, she stopped herself to think. Even years and years later, Steph was awful at riddles, but she still applied herself. Still picked through every bit and tried her best to logic through it all.
It took a while, and luckily, she was already dressed by the time it clicked (and maybe a call over the police radar hinted, too) and on her way to Gotham’s First National Bank to apprehend Eddie’s goons. Oh, he thought he could outsmart her, right? Joke was on him. She had taken enough time to almost miss them, but she had figured out the river clue. So, her cycle blazed through the city streets, ripping through traffic, and cut the boys off just as they were arriving at their rendezvous point of escape. “It’s just not your day, boys, is it?” she asked with a grin as she knocked two of their heads together. Within ten minutes, the mooks were beaten, bound, and waiting for the arrival of the boys in blue. As she jumped on her motorcycle to race back to the museum for her real adventure of the night, she saluted Riddler’s boys with a cheeky smirk that spoke of how she thought she had their boss in her pocket.
And, so, she’d slipped into the museum via an open window in the science hall and slinked her way into the room before Eddie managed to stroll in with that swagger that pissed her off and turned her on at the same time. (God, sometimes she wanted to slap herself for that.) Without warning, she jumped down to land in front of him, a few feet separating the two Gotham giants, and she smirked over at him. “I’ve been training for my 5K. I think I might beat you this time.” Her bright blues flashed mischievously, her blonde hair curled around her shoulders, and she placed one hand on her hip as she considered him and her next move of attack.
The sudden appearance of his bat in purple and black startled him at first. A jump back, cane up like it could save him from an attack while the energy shields moved as worried, rotating protectors. The insect wing glimmer of green was the only thing that gave an indication as to where they were and sometimes they moved so quickly it seemed like he was wrapped in neon film. His surprise melted into a smirk and he leaned casually on his cane. “Kinda hard to run if you’re stuck in the air.” He said with an easy shrug, looking past her at the golden sphinx he was about to steal and with a sudden buzzing rush of air, one of his energy shields blasted towards her, pinning Batgirl to a nearby Egyptian pillar a couple feet off the ground. The shield pulsed a static shock kind of power. Something she was used to after years of fighting against it. It wasn’t a Lex Luthor power suit or a Scarecrow fear toxin, but his little gadgets made fighting her just as fun as the puzzles and the little games they played after one of them was defeated.
“Don’t feel bad about losing horribly, Batgirl.” He said, tapping his cane and waltzing towards the sphinx statue. He picked the golden thing up, marveled at it with wide, appreciative dark eyes and then turned to look at her. “Most people think that ancient Egyptian artifacts are cursed.” He said cursed like a chill swept through the room and stepped up a shiny staircase of energy plates to get eye level with the trapped blonde bat. “Legend has it that the Titanic sank because some mummy was in the cargo hold.” He inched closer, pressing his body against the energy wall she was stuck under. Too close. Close enough that he could hear her breathing and she could feel his breath hot on her skin. His nose skimmed her cheek and kevlar cowl affectionately. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and this thing will fill my workshop full of beetles. Or light it on fire. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He whispered into that curled blonde hair he dreamed about losing himself in.
It felt like the seconds he was pressed against her were an electric eternity and he pulled himself away before he did anything else daring. The most important thing was getting out of the museum with two prizes. The sphinx and his bags and bags of cold hard cash waiting for him with his goons. With a wave he hopped off his platforms, his shields rotating around him again as he started out of the exhibit. Well, what was better than two prizes? Three? Or maybe four. “You know what? Now that I’m here it wouldn’t hurt to go on one of those audio tours.” His voice drifted down the hallway. “I heard the English had some really great family jewels.” The farther away he got, the less powerful his energy shield was and the easier it got to manipulate and turn it off. Eddie should have ran like he promised, but his ego tended to keep him from being all that smart.
She was very familiar with the tech Riddler loved to use during his heists, and she didn’t even raise an eyebrow as she caught the flickers of neon green light that protected her from him. Just regarded him in that same casual, smarmy sort of way that he had probably gotten used to over the years. The flash of her blue eyes, the curve of her mouth, the way her head tilted to the side. No one else got that kind of look, not even people supposedly on her side. (Tim never, ever saw a glint in her eyes the way Eddie managed to create.) But, there was obviously a big, fundamental flaw in the way of any sort of relationship between the two of them: the fact that Riddler was kind of a bastard and Batgirl’s entire existence was to fight against people like him.
Plus, the fact that he liked to pin her against the wall with his wacky technology when he was trying to steal priceless artifacts didn’t help either.
Steph grunted, cursing up a storm as he plucked the artifact from its display and clutched it in his fingers, and rolling around to fight against it. Failing miserably. And, when Riddler climbed up to be at eye level with her, she narrowed her blue eyes and tried to keep her best poker face as the shock warmed her body (or maybe, though she’d never admit it, it was his proximity to her). She almost, almost shuddered when he brushed his nose against her cheek, a huff of air and closed eyes a quick tell that he knew too well, too. “Oh, I’d fucking love it,” she growled, trying to jerk out of the hold and failing yet again. She grimaced, shifting her shoulders back and forth as she fought the force pinning her against the pillar. “Goddammit,” she snapped, though she was glad she wasn’t leaving and secretly thrilled by the entire situation. Tangoing with Riddler like this? Oh, this was where she got her kicks. This was what she looked forward to on days where she felt like she’d seen nothing but children with the worst conditions in her real life. This was the escape.
She felt the force holding her back waning as Eddie strolled away, and after his voice finally faded, she fell to the floor, heavy thump of her boot landing echoing through the now empty exhibition hall. “Jackass,” she said aloud, then went off running to follow him. By the time she reached him, he had found the English history section and some jewels to play with. She stopped short, skidding to a halt about five feet from him, and watched as he juggled some precious royal jewels. “Riddler,” she said, anger there but something else was hidden underneath it all. “Those gems don’t really bring out your eyes, you know.” Her fingers closed on a Batarang, and, without thought, she tossed it at his feet to make him lose his concentration and maybe slip past the barriers for a second.
Eddie was counting on her chasing him farther into the depths of the museum. He listened for the pounding of her heavy boots, the cursing echoing through the halls. All pieces to her puzzle that he found himself addicted to. And, who knew he’d find himself teasing and taunting a girl like her? A tough Old Gotham bat that knew just as much as growing up with hard knocks as he did? Riddler had run with other women before, anything from thorns to his query and echo, but none of them intrigued him the way the blonde bat did. Not one of them made him curious for more. He wanted her, he had for a long time, and while he was quick to bury any more intimate feelings about her, Eddie didn’t mind shining light on how attracted they were to each other. So, there he stood. Middle of the darkened English History exhibit with its velvet curtains and low lighting to show off the sparkle of diamonds, rubies and more. He was a flash of unnatural green surrounded in blacks and reds. Just how he liked it.
He knew she was coming, but he didn’t know what she was going to do. And, before he could put his defenses up, a couple batarangs zipped towards him, sharply cutting into his legs. The Riddler gave a loud OW and fumbled the jewels he was juggling, kneeling to keep any of them falling from the ground. “Not nice, Stephanie Brown.” He said darkly, smiling at her as he resumed juggling. “Spend a lot of time thinking about my dreamy eyes, do you?” Eddie asked with an annoying eyebrow waggle, tossing one gem into the air so that his energy plate could smack it like a baseball towards her. “If I search online, am I going to find some really embarrassing Batgirl poetry about a certain charming, green man?” The next two gems were lobbed up in the air and smashed towards her. All of them intentionally missing, but coming within a hair of touching her. Eddie didn’t mind fighting tooth and nail until they were both covered in bruises, but one misfired hit from that gem could kill her. He was being careful, even if it seemed he was only interested in being dangerous.
He slipped into one of the nearby exhibits, holding up an ancient cloak of royal purple so that it hung off his arm like a cape. “Maybe if you read me some of your poetry aloud, I’ll let you have this one. It’s your color.”
“Oh?” she asked, eyebrow cocked and voice far more innocent than she looked. “I thought we were just leveling the playing field. Besides,” she continued, stepping forward, “you like it.” She couldn’t even count the number of scars that were hidden away underneath all the purple, black, and kevlar that Edward Nigma caused. He marred her perfect, porcelain skin, and she loved it. She loved the reminders she had in the dark of night, the grooves permanently etched in her skin that spelled out Riddler. But, he wasn’t supposed to know that he even thought of him outside of their little escapades at night. She rolled her eyes, hard and painful, and snapped, “Well, just as often as you think about me when you’re touching your little question mark late, late at night.” Face. She was saving face.
Her blue eyes widened as the first gem whizzed past her, and she glared at him as the other two came just as close. Not even bothering trying to save them in favor of not having a hole blown through some part of her body. Oh, now it was on. Steph didn’t even think of the fact that he was being conscientious about not hurting her, just about the fact that her head could have been sawed off by a gem being pelted at her. The gem crashed against the wall, but Stephanie was already on her way to follow him, stomp stomp stomp echoing behind him into the next exhibition room. “Roses are red, violets are blue,” she called out, circling the corner and finding him only a foot or so away from her, “and, sorry, but I’m gonna have to hit you, too.” A swift kick tried to break through the barrier and connect somewhere behind his knee and then she lunged forward to try to pin him against a nearby display case.
“I do like it.” He bit his lip, eyes sweeping back and forth as if he were giving away some big secret about himself. But, it came to no one’s surprise that the riddled man got off on being pushed around by her. He loved saying and doing all the wrong things, pushing all those buttons in the right order to get her at that batty edge of anger and frustration. “And, who I think about during my alone time is none of your business.” Eddie brought the purple cloak up to eye level like one of those caped crusaders and narrowed his eyes at her. “Though, I really do like thinking about what gets you going late at night. In your bat apartment. When no one can see you. After a good night of chasing me around.” He murmured into the ancient fabric, voice barely carrying across the quiet room.
The stomping of her boots perked up his defenses and his energy shields swirled as they tried to guess where she was coming from, creating a jumbled, weakly patched defense. Her kick shattered one of the plates in a zap zap brrrt as it fizzled away and he turned just as she pinned him against the display case. His eyes were electric, dark and full of anticipation. “We really need to come up with a safeword, don’t you think?” He asked her, struggling under her weight, sneaking one of his hands loose. “It’s gotta be a word that neither of us would ever use. Like cuppycake.” Instead of trying squirm away from her, he pushed his body close, catching her lips with his in a sudden and messy kiss.
Heart racing and eyes closed, he brought his free hand up to her cowl and grabbed hold of her bat ear. Months ago, he had implanted a digital scrambler into his arm that could make all of her cowl functions go temporarily haywire. One touch and suddenly her vision changed from ultrared, to night goggles to blank nothing. Her communicator sizzled, tuning like a manic dial on radio until it found a jazz station with blaring trumpets, uncompromising strings and pounding piano. Somewhere in the chaos of noise and churning colors, she could hear him whisper into her neck, “When you kiss me, do you hear music?”
Even with her vision blurred, Eddie knew she could just imagine that know-it-all smirk on his face.
The fizzle brought a smirk of great satisfaction, the curl of her lip in the window of that cowl the other default expression whenever Nigma was around. The other, of course, was that pulsing sort of anger that turned her lips into a thin line or a deep frown that dipped all the way down her face. An expression to try to bury away the confusing feelings she felt towards the man in green at any given moment. Sure, he got flickers of real rage, and once or twice he probably saw something flash in her blue eyes that spoke of more feelings than simply a bat searching for her prey. And when she pinned him against the way, she hummed a haughty little nose and smirked over at him as if she’d won the whole game already. (It was never that easy, of course. Not between them. And, where would the fun be if it was?)
She laughed just a little at his suggestion of a safeword, distracted enough to not notice his hand slipping from her grip, but she did notice as he pressed closer to him. Her eyes mirrored his, static darkness and lust dancing in her bright blues and darkening them with something only for him. And as he caught her lips in a messy, passionate embrace, she pushed back with equal fervor. Hands gripping whatever part of his body she could use to keep him against the glass display. Fingers digging roughly, bruisingly hard into his arms as her eyes squeezed shut, as she tried to drown out the weird buzzing in her ears. She thought, at first, that she was imagining the static noise in her comm, that the taste of him had her losing her mind and had her hearing music in his ears. God, she was stupid, wasn’t she? Stupid for a scrawny little man covered in proverbial question marks. But then, his voice broke through her reverie, and her eyes snapped open. To nothingness.
She grunted, ripping her neck away from his mouth and bringing his forearm to his neck with pressure enough to lightly choke him. Not take all his breath away, just enough to make him a little dizzy and stupid just like she did. “Do your knees buckle like a little girl when I’m close?” Steph asked roughly, mouth by his ear. She grazed her teeth, tongue teasing there, too, as her hot breath warmed his cheek. And while she was doing that, she snuck the back of her foot around to sweep at his ankles to replicate just that. (Take that, prideful little smirk.) All the while being driven insane by the flashing lights and noise blaring into her ears.
He gave a rumbling laugh as she struggled to find the difference between the electrostatic heat between them and the actual technological chaos he was forcing through her cowl. His arm pulsed an unnatural green, jagged lines of black trailing down his wrist and through his fingers as the implant did its work. Eddie know his technology was dangerous, he knew that later after this was finished he’d have to rip the machinery out of his flesh before it corrupted his nervous system. But, it was worth one good trick, wasn’t?
His laugh was cut short as she choked him and rolled into something pleased and painful. His dark eyes flashed open, the black around his eyes and under his mask smearing dangerously. Eddie tried to worm away as she struggled against the loud jazz and flashing lights, but she swept him off his feet (very funny, Stephanie) before he could escape. With a crash, he pulled down a couple displays of royal clothing down with him like a kitten that climbed too far up the curtains. She had three more seconds until her cowl would go back to normal.
Three, two, one.
Eddie reached for his cane and smacked it hard into her side, scrambling to his feet as the green energy shields returned. Take the Sphinx and run, Nigma. He knew now was the time to escape with the pretty treasure. He knew that was the smart thing to do. But, god did she make him stupid. The energy shields formed around his shoulder and he charged her, his tiny frame making a big impact with the help of his technology. Draped in royal furs of red and purple, he pinned her to the ground as a green shield moved between them to bring up the time.
“You see that, Batgirl? You’ve lost.” He pressed the cane to her neck, dark eyes staring at her through the green clock. “The riddle had two meanings. The riddle always has two meanings. And, by now my boys have already robbed the biggest bank in Gotham while you’re here playing pussyfoot with me.” Eddie moved through the translucent clock, the energy buzzing pleasantly across his face as he pressed against her. “That golden sphinx isn’t actually even Egyptian. It was made in the 1800’s by a couple of skilled English forgers. But, don’t tell the tourists. Gotham needs the money.” A whisper as he slid the cane away from her neck and ran a couple fingers tattooed with techno corruption down her cheeks and jaw.
She would have cursed up a storm over him tearing some of the display as he fell, but the cowl still garnered her full attention, and her fingers curled into it in a temptation to rip the entire goddamn thing off. She didn’t, of course, because though they both knew the identity underneath, they hadn’t crossed that threshold yet. And, frankly, Steph had no desire to ever step over it at the moment. Maybe she would sing another tune in another life, but part of the thrill of them was this game they played. How mystery shrouded some of themselves. And, it was only a few more seconds of torture before the radio silence settled around her, and she let out a deep sigh of relief that had her pressing her palms on her thighs while she hunched over. If she had a moment of recovery, she would have been able to abate the dizziness he left behind with his buzzing tech and his taste.
But, she didn’t. Of course she didn’t. No, that goddamn cane whacked her in the side, and she was coughing out pain while Eddie cooked up his next move. Not even able to think of what he was up to next.
She cried out in surprise when he tackled her down, too taken back to even dodge the charge and surprised by his strength. (But, oh, did he surprise her a lot with that. There was an alarming amount of power behind all of those question marks and neon green.) Wiggling underneath him as he pinned her down, she looked up at him with narrowed, angry eyes, expression barely clouded by the green sweeping between them tick tocking away the time. She thrashed violently, but to no avail, losing her breath as the cane pressed against her throat. But, soon, the panic and rage slid away to pure haughty joy. Eyebrows raised behind the cowl, lips pursed in an attempt to suppress a pleased laugh, cheek tilting into his gentle touch. Maybe it looked like she was reveling in the caress, but there was another bit of sharp needling in her eyes.
“Oh, Nigma,” she said softly, partially to tease, partially because she was still catching her breath. She turned slightly to catch his fingers with a painful nip before looking up at him again. “Nope. Strike one. Your boys are, in fact, tied up at the harbor waiting for the boys in blue to drag them away to Blackgate. Or, well, they might actually be on their way already. It has been a little while since I left there. I’m sure they’re all snugs as bugs in rugs in their holding cells right now.” Eyebrow wiggling, laughter on the edge of her tongue, she reached up as far as she could. Blonde bat triumphant. “Pussyfooting is exclusively left for after I finish. You lose, Riddler.”
Her laugh alarmed him like a know-it-all who got the answer wrong when he raised his hand in class. The energy shields buzzed behind him, making confused formations as they didn’t know how to protect him when he was so close to her. The Riddler recoiled in anger, slapping her cheek lightly, almost playfully like he was challenging her to an impromptu duel. “That’s impossible!” He yelled at her, dark and deep exchanged for that frustrated geeky high. “You’re not that fast. You’re not that smart!” Eddie was too busy being angry to hide a certain level of attraction seeping through his voice. He was impressed, but more than that, having her so expertly out maneuver him was always a turn on.
His hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing as his eyes flashed a neon green as he tried to get in communication with his goons. Nothing. They were all out like lights. Frustrated and confused he looked straight at her, eyes returning to those deep darks as his green energy plates formed around his back and arms. “Well, then I guess I’m going to have to steal something more valuable while I’m here.” He whispered, fury fading in exchange for primal, stupid want. His grip around her neck loosened as he planted his hands on either side of her head.
“What do you suggest? Does the blonde bat even visit the museum when she’s not following me around?” Eddie asked, chasing down that sour taste of defeat with a long, demanding kiss. This time deliberate and slow, trying to get drunk on that feeling of her understanding him so perfectly that she could piece together such an impossible little riddle. His smugness made it seem as though he were just trying to distract her so he could formulate a new plan, but the riddled man would have been content pinning the bat to the floor the rest of the night. “Does she like paintings? Monet or Degas?” He asked lowly, his fingers moving to find those weak spots in her bat armor that he knew so well. In between grooves along her shoulder, across her collarbone. “I think they might have Dorothy's ruby slippers here somewhere.” Eddie shrugged like it didn’t matter to him, biting her bottom lip as his mind tick tocked with a backup plan.
“I know you, Eddie Nigma,” she whispered harshly, dangerously, ripping through his panic to push him further through his anger. Her head snapped back from that cocky curve up to brag about his downfall when he wrapped his arms tightly around her throat. She gurgled a little dramatically, but her blue eyes flashed in a pleased sort of way as the absence of air went straight to her head. Dizzy and stupid and daring him to do worse as he found out she wasn’t lying about defeating him. She wasn’t as stupid as she seemed. Maybe stupid for him, weak for him, but the blonde bat grown wasn’t the same as she had been in her eggplant purple all those years ago. Rash, yes. Daring, of course. Dark, sure. But, she’d gotten smarter over the years, outgrown some of the leap before you look, and she knew Riddler. Knew him just as well as she knew herself. He consumed her in the way that the Joker consumed Batman, her mentor. The strange sort of obsession that clung to her day and night, but with an extra delightful twist of gnashing teeth and roaming hands. Speaking of.
Steph returned his kiss with a growl, sharp breaths through her nose replenishing the air she lost when he was choking her, ignoring his needling questions about what to do next. Her eyes drifted shut, and she allowed herself to get lost in the embrace, slow and more than just a hateful way to cut the tension like it had began all those years ago. She could lose herself for hours in this, and that was part of the problem. She lost track of time when she felt his lips against hers, when his hands roamed like sneaky thieves trying to penetrate her kevlar through the weak points he’d memorized after countless tangoes of this. As he was distracted by sneaking his hands wherever he thought best, she used all her might to push him in a swift move, roll them both over, and get herself on top of him. “I’m too busy saving the world during the day to schedule any visits. Besides, I thought this was our special little date place. I’d never cheat on you and our little rendezvous with someone else.” Her bottom lip puffed out after he’d bitten it, and as she straddled his waist, she pressed a heavy hand to the middle of his chest, fingers brushing against that green tie as if debating whether to pull at it. “God, you’re so predictable. Paintings? Movie props? Jesus Christ.” As she spoke, her hand gripped his tie, and when she finished, she yanked so he’d snap up. “Forget what I said. I’m gonna have to cheat on you. You’re getting goddamn boring.” She smiled down at him, affection bleeding through her stormy blues, and she caught the collar of his shirt with her other hand to tug him forward and crush her lips against his.
Now, years ago being called predictable and boring would have irked him to the point of fighting her off him and really bringing the house down. He remembered scrambling away, screaming at her until his throat was hoarse and pushing her limits until she was too broken to spread her wings for weeks and weeks. The Riddler used to really hate her beyond this playground boys are made of spice and girls are everything nice happening here. But, the more he obsessed, the more he felt his chest tighten when she swooped in from above. The more they fought tooth and nail, the more he wanted to rip off that kevlar. So, her teasing just made him grin dangerously at her. Grin like she just made some kind of fatal mistake he wasn’t going to clue her in on any time soon.
His hand reached for his cane and then flopped down on the cool museum floor as it was just out of reach. Her yank made him look back at her, dark eyes moving past her taunts that silently said she was easily the best thing he could steal here. He loved that grip of his collar. That angry show to hide desperate want in her voice. “Riddle me this.” He whispered, the techno scribbles on his hand began to light up in green under his skin. “If you find me so boring, then why won’t you throw me away?” Eddie returned the kiss, hand full of real electricity that hummed nicely from his skin through her kevlar. A buzzing, nibbling energy that could click to something dangerous at any second. He brushed his hand along her collarbone, fingers delicately dragging down her chest with that pleasant rumble of electricity.
“I’ve seen you bored before.” He circled a single finger around her nipple, watching her expression as he managed to vibrate his touch through the protective kevlar. The magic of science was truly a wonder. “If you were bored, you’d send the cops. But, you wanted to see me.” Eddie whispered, tilting his chin up for another kiss as his hand trailed down her hip. “I know you, too, Stephanie Brown.”
She caught the sharp edge to his grin, and her eyebrows almost furrowed in a mild panic about what he had planning up in that buzzing hard drive that was his wonderful brain. Steph could remember a time where she felt nothing but a bitter rage for Eddie the way that caped crusaders were supposed to hate the colorful rogues that inhabited her city. Anger towards a man who manipulated her father all those years ago and put she and her loved ones in plenty of near-death situations. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment where he became something more -- probably somewhere between that time she saved him from her father and when Tim Drake broke her heart -- but it didn’t matter at that moment laying on the marble floor with him. The annoying green man had burrowed his way into her mind and created a unique, acute sort of pain in her chest that had never happened before and no one else came close to replicating.
“You wanted to see me, too,” she challenged quietly, barely shivering against his roaming, electric fingers. Fingers digging deeply into his shoulders and blonde hair falling down like a curtain. “You could have riddled at the Bat, Nigma. Could have made this grand and violent, and ending with you hanging from the roof as he cleaned up your mess. But you wanted to see my pretty blonde hair, didn’t you?” Her voice was just a whisper, a teasing and confident sort of sound that slipped through her puffy lips before she dived down to capture his lips again. “You wanted to feel my weight on top of you so you could think about it for hours and hours later when you’re tucked away in your little lair.” Her warm breath tickled his lips before she bit down hard on his bottom lip, tugging his collar hard and then slipping gloved fingers underneath to spread across his clavicle. The top button of his shirt popping off pulling a sweet, bragging sound out of her.
A noise rumbled in her throat, something pleased and egging him on, as she felt that sharp electricity crackle through her kevlar and nip against her skin, but she stopped herself short of a moan, even if her body briefly curved into his touch. Biting down on her lip, eyes still closed, and curving her neck away just enough that he could have mistaken her desperate whimper for a breath. Maybe. Because that was exactly what he wanted, and she wanted him to work harder than that. “You’ve never seen me bored. Tell me when you’ve seen me bored, Riddler.”
But, before he could respond, she sat up again, gloved hand slipping up his chest, fingers spreading as she went. After a second of catching his eye, stormy blues speaking volumes about how much she wanted him to rip off her kevlar and have his way with her, she slapped him hard across the face (for slapping her before, thank you), ground her elbow quickly into his chest, and stood, slowly up, up, up and then started backing away. “Don’t want the security cameras to catch you taking advantage of little old me, now, do you? That could complicate things a lot.” She didn’t think of kicking away the cane further or incapacitating him further at that moment, but she did try to survey a way to take him down if he tried something stupid(er).
“The Batman can’t keep up with me.” He said confidently. They both knew that was true. This Batman was old, brooding and lacked the skill it took to figure out his riddles. If he wanted to challenge a brute, he’d go after Killer Croc. And, even though tonight seemed like a point in her favor, Riddler had won against Batgirl plenty of times before and a number of those victories were so tight it was eternally satisfying. Her mind was sharper than Arthur’s and her persistence outweighed everyone in the Batfamily. Facts he knew, facts he’d tell her if she asked, but he knew she’d never, ever show she wanted validation from him.
Eddie’s fingers trailed over her legs and across her thighs, glancing down to see them brush against the black kevlar before he looked back up at her. “I’m not like you, Batgirl. I don’t have to be ashamed for wanting you. And, I want you. I do.” It was the first time he admitted that he wanted her out loud and just as he promised, he didn’t seem embarrassed by it at all. Want was different from care, love or that secret pain in his chest when he thought about her. Want was a blinking question on her computer screen. Want was his hand exploring across her armored body while he daydreamed about what was hidden underneath.
He gave a grumbling pleased noise as she spread her hands across his chest, opening his mouth to tell her exactly the last time he saw her bored when he was interrupted by that slap. Eddie groaned in pain as she ground her elbow into his chest (sharp pain smashing down on a blooming, beating hurt that settled every time he touched her) and he was on his feet the second she stepped away from him. “I control the security cameras. The worst you gotta worry about is me watching a replay when I get home. But, if you wanna play it that way.” Eddie held his hand out and the cane lept into his grip. The green plates swirled back around him and duplicated three different projections of The Riddler, all running in separate directions.
The only way she could guess where he was headed was a simple clue in the last thing he told her: play. Play what? Well, Eddie’s favorite sport happened to be the nation’s favorite passtime: Baseball. The museum had a nice exhibit of old, old players and Gotham Knights uniforms on the second floor. A couple stolen score sheets, a few baseballs and he’d score enough money to make up for tonight’s loss. He didn’t make time for playing now, swiping what he needed the second he got to the second floor, stuffing them into an ancient batbag and slinging it over his shoulder as he escaped through one of the windows.
Eddie climbed to the top of the museum’s roof. It was uneven and almost as ancient as the baseball paraphernalia in his bag. Slipping down the side of the building he hopped onto one of his energy shields and bolted for a nearby, flatter rooftop to make his escape.