This story is the sixth in an ongoing series of Batgirl adventures, mainly based on characters in the early Batman comics and that wonderful '60s TV series but with the timeline brought up to the present.

Warning! This fictional story contains strictly ADULT content and is ONLY intended for mature readers and for personal use. No copyright infringement is intended.

The Adventures Of Batgirl

Batgirl: Sex Bomb

Chapter 5: Letting The Cat Out Of The Bag

Meanwhile in stately Wayne Manor, situated on the outskirts of Gotham City.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah... Oh, God, yeah! Harder, fuck me harder!" urged the naked, blue eyed blonde, as her well-built lover buried his rigid shaft deep into her sopping pussy, again and again, grunting loudly, with each powerful lunge. She was lying face upward on the bed, both shoulders pressed deep into the mattress, her ass raised in the air and her shapely legs draped over his broad shoulders, as he gripped the front of her thighs and fucked into her, energetically. Her small, but shapely breasts, were swollen with arousal, the pink nipples standing out stiff and erect. The bodies of both participants were covered in a gleaming sheen of perspiration, thanks to their energetic coupling.

"Oh, yes! Yess! Yessss!" the girl gasped, writhing her shapely ass, as she tried to take his cock in even deeper. "More Dick, I want more!"

Jennifer had still not completely forgiven Dick Grayson for failing to inform her of the Dynamic Duo's visit to the gay bar. After all, they had allowed Barbara to tag along, even if she hadn't actually accompanied them into the place. At least Dick had finally managed to coax Bruce into allowing his girlfriend to stop over for the night, but only on the strict understanding that she slept alone, in one of the many guest bedrooms and didn't go messing around in the Batcave. Bruce Wayne was only too aware of Jennifer's uncontrollable curiosity.

Jenny smiled to herself, slyly. "If only Bruce could see what his youthful ward is up to now." She managed to stifle the giggle that threatened to escape her slack lips, by turning it into a low moan of pleasure.

The first time that Jennifer Goodbody and Dick had made love, had been as their crime-fighting alter egos, Robin and Sparrow, down in the Batcave, of all places. The Boy Wonder had not disappointed her on that occasion either. The interesting bulge in the front of his red briefs, had soon been revealed as a more than adequate eight-inches of throbbing man-meat, when she had released it, to spring forth into full erection. Since that first glorious occasion, the two youngest members of Gotham's Caped Crusaders had been having sex on a fairly regular basis.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh... Unnngghh!"

Dick Grayson groaned with pleasure, as he thrust into her one more time, then started to ejaculate, as he attained his much-needed climax. "I'm cumming, Jen," he warned, arching his back, both eyes closed, his hips twitching with each successive spurt of milky semen.

His lovely partner, continued to milk his cock, with her powerful vaginal muscles, until he was finally running on empty.

"Aaahhhhhh! That was sooooo good, Jen," Dick gasped, opening his eyes and smiling down at his lovely companion.

"Don't stop, you selfish bastard!" the girl cried, raising herself up off the bed, on her elbows and giving him a sulky, pout. "I haven't cum myself, yet."

Dick Grayson grinned at his gorgeous girlfriend, as his shrinking penis slithered from her wet sex. "Sorry, Jen, but I'm just about finished," he apologized, shrugging his broad shoulders. He carefully stripped the full condom from his softening organ and, wrinkling up his nose in distaste, dropped it, and its milky contents, into the bedside wastebasket.

He eased her legs from off his shoulders, then flopped down on the bed beside her, before leaning in and planting a brief kiss on her full red lips and, at the same time, caressing one of her firm, still swollen tits. "But I still love you," he added, with a twinkle in his eye, then collapsed back onto the mattress.

"Oooooohhh!" Jennifer Goodbody moaned in frustration, clenching her fists by her sides, as she stared up at the ceiling of Dick Grayson's bedroom. "Call yourself a superhero," she muttered, under her breath. "You'd think a superhero would have a bit more stamina in the sack."

She gave a loud, frustrated sigh and rolled over onto her side, raising her head and propping herself up on one elbow, facing him. She stared at his shrunken and shriveled cock, now draped over his soft ballsack. It was glistening with the evidence of their lovemaking.

"I swear you do this on purpose, every time, Dick Grayson," she said, glaring at him, suspiciously. "You know there's only one sure way of my getting you hard again , don't you, you pig?"

"Oh?" he replied, raising an eyebrow and putting on that boyish look of innocent that so infuriated her. Dick knew his lovely bedmate wouldn't be satisfied until she had attained her own orgasm, the little minx, and that meant getting him erect again. Well, he wasn't going to complain. He casually linked his hands behind his neck and eased his legs apart, slightly.

"You damn well know what I mean," Jenny retorted, her big blue eyes flashing, angrily. She lent over his groin and started licking and sucking him clean, while pulling at his limp cock, impatiently, with the fingers of her left hand. She saw it twitch and smiled to herself.

-oOo-

Several minutes of sustained oral attention later, Dick's cock was once again the best part of eight-inches of thick, throbbing muscle. Jenny slid him out of her hot mouth and worked her aching jaw, before smiling down at the result of her endeavors.

"The things I have to do to get an orgasm," she muttered aloud, as she clambered astride his hips and positioned his impressive erection at the entrance to her glistening pink pussy.

"Whoops, almost forgot!" she exclaimed, with a girlish giggle. She reached over to the bedside table and took a fresh rubber from the pack in her purse.

"Did I ever tell you? You have the gentlest of touches," Dick murmured with a smile, as he watched her expertly roll the ribbed condom down over his hot, vertical shaft.

Jennifer ignored his sarcastic comment and sighed with pleasure, as she slowly lowered herself down onto him, until his Latex sheathed cock was fully embedded inside her. "There's nothing better than the feeling of a nice fat cock inside your pussy," she reminded herself, a slight smile touching her full lips.

Dick raised himself on both elbows, to get a better view, as his thick shaft disappeared between her tightly stretched labia. "Holy Orgasm, Jennifer!" he gasped. "That feels soooo good. I can feel your pussy muscles gripping my cock, like the coils of a hungry anaconda."

Jenny smiled at the compliment, placed an outstretched hand against his muscular chest and firmly pushed him back down onto the bed. "Leave it all to those who know how, Batboy," she commanded, as she started to slowly raise and lower her hips, her velvety sheath squeezing and relaxing about his engorged member.

"Geez! Whatever you say, Jen," Dick gasped. He closed his eyes and threw his head back against the pillow. "She is unbelievable," he added, silently.

Jenny gradually increased her pace, arching her back and leaning back, increasing the friction against the front wall of her vulva, as she felt herself growing wetter and wetter. She began to gasp, louder and louder, as she felt a climax starting to bubble up, from deep within her belly, like molten lava about to burst forth from an active volcano.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah..." she gasped, as she felt herself rushing toward that ultimate pinnacle of pleasure.

"Ooooh, yes, yes, yesssss!" Her back was arched, her swollen breasts thrust forward, her rock hard nipples standing out like two .45 caliber bullets, as she shuddered and started to cum, bathing his erection and testicles in a flood of hot clear love juice.

"Unnnggghhhhhh! Aaaaaahhhhh!" Her hips jerked with the orgasmic after shocks going off in her pussy, her head swaying from side to side.

Finally, she rocked forward, drunkenly, her damp blonde hair hanging over her eyes, her glorious tits swaying and heaving, mere inches from Dick's face, as she recovered on straightened arms, hands positioned either side of his head.

"God, that was the BEST," she finally gasped, still holding him deep inside her, not wanting to let him go, wishing it could've gone on forever.

Dick reached up and pinched her erect nipples between his fingers and thumbs, causing her to jerk and gasp with the sudden pain. "For one moment there, I thought you were going to snap my cock off," he complained, with a boyish grin, before she could berate him.

-oOo-

Later, when they were cuddling up in each other's arms, Jenny suddenly raised her head and looked into Dick's eyes, with a bemused expression on her lovely face. "Do you know what really puzzles me about this whole weapons case?" she said, right out of the blue.

"What?" he groaned, wishing she would go to sleep.

"Why did they take such an almighty risk, breaking into the police armory, to steal all those guns? Surely they could have gotten them from some other source, at much less of a risk?"

"Yeah. Now that you mention it, that is kinda strange," he agreed, frowning.

Friday, 7:55 am

The next morning, Jennifer and Dick, hand in hand, strolled leisurely down to breakfast, in the roomy kitchen of the sprawling old mansion. The blonde beauty was positively glowing with health, after their energetic lovemaking of the night before. They found multi-millionaire Bruce Wayne, already seated at the head of the table, tucking into a hearty breakfast of sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs and toast.

Bruce paused and looked up, as the two youngsters entered. "Good morning both," he greeted, politely, before turning his full attention to their lovely guest. Jenny was wearing a tight-fitting checkered shirt and blue jeans combination, that emphasized her shapely figure. "I hope you slept well, young lady?"

Jennifer blushed, prettily, and exchanged a swift conspiratorial glance with Dick, before replying. "Yes thank you, Bruce. I can't remember when I enjoyed a night in bed so much."

"What?"

"The bed was so soft and comfortable," she added, quickly, seeing a puzzled expression appear on Bruce's face.

"Oh, ah, yes. We take pride in our standard of hospitality."

Dick held out her chair for her and Jennifer sat down with a smile of thanks, before he seated himself next to her and reached for a napkin. He poured them both a glass of freshly squeezed juice, before looking over at the fourth person in the room, who was quietly getting on with the task of preparing breakfast. Alfred Pennyworth was wearing a frilly edged, flower patterned, apron, over his usual manservant uniform.

"Morning, Alfred. What's on the menu today?"

"Good morning, Master Dick. Good morning, Ms. Goodbody. Bacon, sausages and eggs with toast," the elderly retainer replied, walking over and placing a fresh rack of hot toast on the breakfast table. "Or I could prepare some waffles with syrup, if you prefer, Miss?" he added, smiling fondly, at the young woman.

Jennifer shook her blonde curls. "No thank you, Alfred. I think I'll just have a glass of cold milk, if that's alright with you?"

"Certainly, Miss. Thinking about that trim figure of yours, no doubt?" Alfred was fully aware that Jennifer was also, Sparrow, the fourth member of Gotham's famous costumed crime-fighting team, and as such, needed to keep in good physical shape.

Jenny blushed at the compliment and nodded, demurely.

"I'll have the same as Bruce, scrambled eggs and crispy bacon," Dick announced.

"Certainly, Master Dick. It will be ready shortly. I had already anticipated your choice."

"You were a little noisy, last night," Bruce said with a slight frown, addressing his young ward. "You probably kept Jennifer up half the night, as well as myself. What on earth were you doing?"

"Huh? Er, yes, I was busy doing some extra push-ups," Dick admitted, looking decidedly sheepish. "Sorry about that."

"Yes, I, ah, I did have a little trouble getting to sleep... initially," Jenny added, giving Dick a sly, saucy smirk, that seemed to go unnoticed by Bruce.

"By the way, Dick, that blood sample did turn out to be a match with that of Officer Thackeray's blood group," Bruce continued, looking over at his young protégé. "I checked out our analysis results against GCPD personnel records, earlier this morning."

"Yeah, it seems to confirm our abduction theory," replied Dick, gravely.

Bruce nodded, and then picked up the copy of the Gotham Daily Gazette, from beside his elbow. The morning newspaper had been delivered just a short while earlier. "Good grief!" he exclaimed, as his gaze alighted on the banner headline:

Police Chief Suspended Over Cover-up of Massive Gun Heist from Police Headquarters.

"What is it, Bruce?" Dick asked, jumping to his feet in alarm.

Without a word, Bruce spread the newspaper over the tabletop, so that they could all read the front page:

It has just been revealed that Mayor Lindsay has suspended Police Commissioner Jim Gordon from duty, over allegations that he deliberately tried to cover up an armed robbery of the weapons armory at GCPD HQ that occurred some two weeks ago, where, it is believed, over a thousand weapons and items of ammunition, were stolen from right under the noses of our so-called 'finest'. The city fathers had been kept totally in the dark about this, until an anonymous tip-off to this paper, started the ball rolling.

Mayor Lindsay categorically denied such a crime was even possible, when first confronted by this paper, but later announced that he had discovered that the information we had obtained, was essentially true, after cross-examining Jim Gordon, at a hastily convened meeting in the Mayor's Parlor. Our top cop had since claimed that he did it to avoid creating any panic in the local population, but considering the absolute epidemic of armed crime that has been sweeping through our fair city, over recent days, this seems a pretty feeble excuse, at best.

It has even been suggested that Jim Gordon might actually be implicated in this robbery, in some way, although this reporter hastens to add that there is currently no evidence to support this premise. The Police Commissioner has been suspended on full pay, while an urgent internal investigation is undertaken, to try to determine the truth of the matter.

In the meantime, Captain Peter J. Schmitt has been asked to assume the duties and responsibilities of Police Commissioner until the investigation is completed. Normally, Chief O'Hara would've been expected to assume the position, but it was thought that he was too closely allied to Gordon to remain impartial. Captain Schmitt has been quoted as saying that he was never totally happy with the policy of secrecy that was put into place by his superior, immediately after the robbery, and that he believes the good citizens of Gotham deserved to be told the truth, despite any embarrassment this might cause certain senor members of the police force.

The number of armed robberies within Gotham City and the surrounding area has more than tripled over recent weeks and Acting Commissioner Schmitt has revealed that there is considerable evidence to suggest that many of the guns that were stolen, are already out on the city streets. He has advised all citizens to keep off the streets late at night, unless their journey is absolutely necessary.

"I knew nothing good would come of that piece of subterfuge," Bruce muttered, shaking his head. "It is now more essential than ever that the Dynamic Duo solve this case, as soon as possible."

"Hey, don't forget to include myself and Batgirl in on that," Jennifer protested.

"What? Oh, yes, of course, dear."

Friday, 8:45 am

Jim Gordon was in the process of clearing out his office desk, at GCPD Headquarters. Acting Commissioner Schmitt had asked him to vacate the office by nine, as he would be requiring it himself from now on. He turned his grey-blue eyes to his faithful second-in-command, Chief O'Hara, who had been helping him to pack. They were glistening with barely suppressed tears.

"Do you know what I find most galling, Chief?" he muttered, with a gesture of annoyance. "It's that two faced son-of-a-bitch, Schmitt. He was the one who convinced me that it would be in the best interests of the department and the good citizens of Gotham, to keep all knowledge of this robbery under wraps. Now that the shit has hit the fan, the turncoat is claiming exactly the opposite."

O'Hara blinked in astonishment. He couldn't ever remember his superior using such strong language before. "Bejazus, Jim, I never loiked the fella, m'self!" the florid faced Irishman exclaimed, in his thick brogue, shaking his head in sympathy.

"Keep me informed about what's going on here, Chief. I don't trust that Schmitt any further than I can throw him. Not after this debacle. Anyway, YOU should have been made up to Acting Commissioner in my absence, old friend, NOT Peter Schmitt. That's something else that stinks to high heaven."

Just then the telephone began to ring, insistently, and he grabbed the receiver and raised it to his ear. "Hello, Commiss... er, Jim Gordon speaking."

"I have your daughter on line one, Commissioner. Do you wish to speak with her?" enquired the voice of his secretary, from the outer office. Bonnie had heard the upraised voices, through the thin partition wall.

"It's all right, Bonnie, dear. Put her on."

"Daddy?"

"Hello, Princess."

"Daddy, I've just heard the AWFUL news that you've been suspended from your job. It CAN'T be true?"

"'Fraid so, darling. They seem to think I might have something to hide and the mayor has insisted on a full internal investigation."

"Utter nonsense! It doesn't make any sense, daddy. You're the most honest and dedicated cop on the force."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, dear. You've cheered me up no end. Now, if you don't mind, Princess, I must finish clearing out my desk and vacate the office, or I might just get thrown out on my ear. Talk to you soon, okay?"

"Okay," Barbara agreed, reluctantly. "'Bye Daddy."

"'Bye Barbara, dear." There were tears in the elderly policeman's eyes, as he gently replaced the receiver.

Jim looked up at his number two, and then straightened his back and shoulders. "Try to put any personal grievances behind you, Chief. Acting Commissioner Schmitt is going to need all the help he can get, if this tidal wave of gun crime is to be contained."

"You're a charitable man, Jim Gordon, that you are. I'll do my best to keep the slimy... er, the Acting Commissioner, from making a fool of h'self, that I will, but it doesn't mean I have to LOIKE the boyo, NO SIR!"

Friday, 8:55 am

The heavily armored Brink's security truck rumbled steadily through the Gotham City suburbs, transporting its considerable payload of cash and securities, to the local branch of the Bank of Trust, some five minutes journey time away. Within the truck, the driver and his fellow armed security guard, passed the time discussing the merits of their favorite football team and their newly appointed coach. In the back of the armored truck, the third and youngest member of the crew, Jimmy Crow, who claimed to be directly descended from one of the most famous of all Red Indians, Sitting Bull, sat reading a copy of the local morning newspaper.

As they pulled up at the traffic lights, which had just turned to red, at the busy city intersection, a large Jeep Cherokee SUV, that had started crossing the junction from their left, suddenly swerved toward them, and screeched to a halt, right across the nose of their truck.
"What the hell?" Jack Fuller snarled. He grabbed for his rifle, immediately realizing what was going down. Moments later, the supposedly bulletproof windshield, erupted in a shower of glass shards, as a burst of high-powered bullets swept across it.

"Holy shit!" exclaimed his partner, Herbie, clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles, as they were both showered with safety glass fragments that, luckily, caused only minor facial cuts. By some miracle or perhaps by design, neither man had been struck by a bullet. Three hooded men had emerged from the vehicle in front, waving lethal looking automatic weapons in their direction.

"What's going on?" came the muffle voice of Jimmy, from out the back of the truck.

"Robbery," growled Jack, gripping his weapon, tightly.

"Drop your guns and get the fuck outta there," yelled one of the robbers, waving the barrel of his automatic rifle in their direction, "or you guys get the next shots in the head!"

"Fuck that," Herbie gasped, going even paler. He jerked his podgy hands high in the air.

After a moment's hesitation, Jack carefully placed the rifle down and followed suit. The company didn't pay him enough to risk his life and, anyway, he had a wife and two young kids to support.

"Don't do anything stupid, Jimmy," he called, out of the corner of his mouth, the warning aimed in the direction of the small square grill that accessed the rear compartment. "These guys look like they mean business."

At the same time, he pressed the red emergency button with his knee, which set off the alarm in the destination bank, thus indicating that a robbery was taking place. The bank staff would immediately inform the local police of the situation. With any luck, the area should be swarming with cops within a couple of minutes.

The two security guards slowly clambered out of the cab, empty hands held high in the air. Jack was ushered around the front of the truck, at gunpoint, to join a pale, sweating Herbie, who looked frightened to death.

"Which one of you guys has got the keys to the rear of the truck?" snarled the spokesman, waving his gun barrel in their faces.

"Neither of us," Jack retorted, maintaining a brave face. "It can only be opened from the inside and there's another armed guard in there."

"Shit!"

The hooded thief walked to the rear of the truck. "Hey, you in there, open up, or we kill your two pals," he yelled.

Meanwhile, people in the line of cars that had piled up behind the armored truck, had started getting out of them and running away from the crime scene, having realized what was happening.

"No fuckin' way," came the muffled response from within. "I've got me a gun."

Jack groaned, under his breath. Jimmy always had been a headstrong kid.

"Have it your way, moron," snarled the hoodlum, stepping aside.

Jack saw one of the masked men, go down on one knee some twenty yards behind the truck, and heft, what looked like a bazooka over his shoulder, and take aim at the rear doors.

"OH, SHIT!" he yelled grabbing Herbie's arm and diving for the ground, pulling the older guard down with him.

"What the..."

BOOOOM!

Herbie's wail of surprise was drowned out by the noise of the loud explosion and the screech of metal being torn asunder. A gaping hole appeared in the buckled doors at the rear of the truck, together with a plume of smoke that rose high into the air.

"Jimmy?" Jack cried, staggering to his feet, alarm on his face. He turned to the apparent leader of the gang. "Jimmy was in there, you murderous bast..." His angry yell was cut off, as the butt of the automatic rifle struck him under the jaw, with a sickening crack, and he lost all further interest in the proceedings.

"Start unloading the money, boys," yelled the leader, turning away from the body of the unconscious security guard and waving his gun barrel in the direction of the distant crowd which had gathered at a safe distance. "Just stay well back, folks, and nobody else will get hurt!" he yelled.

The crowd murmured nervously, and shuffled back a couple of yards.

Ignoring the bloody remains of the youngest of the security guards, the other two masked men, began to leisurely unload the blood-spattered sacks of money and security bonds, and dump them into the rear of the SUV.

Meanwhile, the leader handcuffed Herbie and his unconscious partner to the door handle of the truck. "Your big-mouthed buddy looks like he needs hospital treatment," he observed, with a sneer.

When all the bags had been transferred, the leader joined his companions in the Jeep Cherokee and it screeched off with a cloud of smoke rising from the hot rubber of its tires.

Herbie peered around, anxiously. "Where the hell are the local cops?" he muttered, angrily. He was aware that Jack had set off the emergency alarm. "They should've been here ten minutes ago."

He turned and yelled over to the gradually approaching crowd. "Can someone please call 911 for an ambulance? This man needs urgent medical attention." He knew, in his heart, that it was already too late for Jimmy.

Friday, 9:03 am

Barbara looked up, at the sound of a polite knock on the frosted glass panel of her office door. "Come in, Jen," she called, recognizing the curvy silhouette. The door opened and her bubbly blonde research assistant hurried in, looking anything but bubbly.

"Babs, I've just read the terrible news in the paper," she exclaimed, rushing over to the desk and placing a sympathetic arm around the seated redhead's shoulders. "You must be distraught."

A tear glistened in a big green eye, as Barbara looked up at Jennifer and patted the hand resting on her shoulder. "How could they even THINK that Daddy could be involved in that gun heist," she protested, almost bursting into tears.

"Yeah, it's ridiculous," agreed Jennifer, huskily. It grieved her heart to see Barbara so upset. "Looks like the old team of Batgirl and Sparrow will have to get back together and find out who's really behind that robbery, right, girl?"

Barbara looked up at her best friend, gratefully. "Uh, huh," she agreed. "We made a good team, didn't we?"

Before she even realized it, she had slid her arm around Jenny's neck and pulled the blonde's face down to her own. Their lips met, in a long, lingering kiss.

Jenny look a little flustered, when they finally broke their passionate clinch.

"I... I'll come by your place about eight tonight... and bring my Sparrow costume," she promised, as she gazed into Barbara's big green eyes and swallowed, nervously.

"I'll be waiting, " Barbara replied, softly, "and thanks, Jen."

Friday, 9:33 am

"Batman and Robin!" exclaimed Acting Commissioner Schmitt, looking up at the two costumed vigilantes, who had just been ushered into his office in GCPD Headquarters (formerly that of Jim Gordon), by his secretary, Bonnie. "What a great honor." He rose to his feet and held out a hand.

"Likewise, Commissioner Schmitt. We had a close working relationship with your predecessor, Jim Gordon, and are hoping to cultivate a similar understanding with your good self," Batman replied, as they shook hands. "Hence the main reason for our visit."

The policeman shook hands with Robin, and then sat back down behind his desk. "Now what, exactly, can I do for you, gentlemen?" he added, resting both elbows on his desk and clasping his hands together.

"We've just been informed, by a reliable source, that an armored truck has been held up and robbed, on the way to make a delivery to a local branch of the Bank of Trust earlier this morning, Commissioner?"

"Er, that is correct, Batman," Schmitt replied, trying to hide his surprise.

"We would like to offer our services in helping to solve this crime, Sir."

"That, ah, that won't be necessary, Caped Crusader," Schmitt replied, putting a supercilious smile on his face. "Now that the GCPD is under new management, so to speak, we will no longer be needing any help from well meaning amateurs, in solving our more serious crimes."

"Why, you arrogant, overbear..." Robin began, taking a step toward the seated policeman, who held up the palm of one hand, effectively cutting off his ranting and bringing him to a halt.

Schmitt smiled again. "That doesn't mean we won't continue to appreciate any help the Dynamic Duo can provide in helping to reduce street crime, muggings, car theft, prostitution, burglaries, etcetera."

"But not any MAJOR capers?" Batman clarified, with a grim smile.

"That IS essentially the situation, Caped Crusader."

The Dark Knight stepped forward and held out his hand. "Well, thank you for your valuable time, Commissioner Schmitt," he said, tersely, shaking hands. Robin refused to follow suit.

"No, THANK YOU, gentlemen."

Schmitt smiled to himself, as he watched the costumed buffoons exit his office. "I thought you handled that very well," he congratulated himself.

He flicked the intercom switch down to the transmit position. "Bonnie, NEVER show Batman into my office again, UNLESS he has a prior appointment," he snapped.

-oOo-

Will the Dynamic Duo become suspicious of Acting Commissioner Schmitt and his mercurial rise to prominence in the GCPD?

Was the armored truck robbery merely the first of many major armed robberies to come?

Will our two Costumed Cuties manage to prove the innocence of Jim Gordon?

The plot deepens folks. Don't forget to tune in to the next exciting installment, for the answer to these and other puzzling queries that may be on the tips of your tongues.