Marry The Knight Ch. 05

Bullock paused, toothpick dropping out of his mouth. "You got me there. Alright, get the hell out of here. And next time keep it behind closed doors?"

"I do apologize for the confusion, Roxy got a little overly enthusiastic. What is going to happen to my—friends, anyway?"

Bullock took out another toothpick, the habit of a reformed smoker already needing another expression. "The Rocketeer's free to go. Calendar Girl has some outstanding warrants—blew up a couple Macy's, luckily before the sales started. She'll be coming with us."

"That's out of the question, officer. I've asked Ms. Monroe to marry me. You'll set her free immediately, of course."

Bullock lost another toothpick.

***

Ivy was about to beg Harley to ram the dildo into her again when the blonde kissed her lips passionate. They both grunted as Harley lifted her hips and slammed the strap-on home, the whole length of it forcing Ivy violently open.

"Do you want it like this, Red?" Harley asked, punching it into Ivy's wet pussy. "Is this okay? Am I fucking you with my big dick like Mistah B does?"

"Harder!" Ivy demanded. The dildo was much bigger than she had remembered—had she really been using something that big on Harley all this time? She wailed, her passion building, climbing—

"I'm gonna give it to you!" Harley warned. "Give it to you even harder than Brucie!"

"Good!" Ivy wailed. "Just make sure I—come!"

The phone picked then to ring. It kept ringing and ringing, and after the machine got it, it started ringing again. Ivy growled as she pushed Harley off her, rolled over, and crawled to the phone on the nightstand.

"WHAT! What the fuck is it?"

Selina's sultry voice oozed over the line. "It's twelve PM. Do you know where your husband is?"

"Windsurfing! What the fuck is it to you?"

Harley, seeing the tempting target of Ivy on her hands and knees, walked on her knees to the presented green backside.

"Windsurfing. Hunh. Well, the way I hear it—from my source in the GCPD—Bruce is out proposing marriage to Calendar Girl. Fucking Calendar Girl."

"Wha-?" Ivy demanded as she felt her sex once more entered. She looked over her shoulder to see Harley's face curled in concentration, tongue poking out the side of her mouth. God, she looked cute. God, it felt good.

"I could understand if it were Silver St. Cloud or someone, I like her, but that ivory-faced goon? The reason I let you two idiots marry the big lug was that I trusted you to keep him satisfied. I don't want to marry him, but if I do, I don't want to be the johnny-come-lately to a fucking harem!"

"Fuck me harder, Harl! Fuck me!"

"WHAT?"

"It's nothing, you caught me—" Ivy hissed in sublime pleasure as Harley did as she was told. "Right in the middle of something!"

Harley clutched Ivy's voluptuous body and began to throb, getting off on pleasing Ivy.

"Ivy, you useless lesbian. Fine. I'll handle it myself."

"Fuck off, housecat. Wayne is our... our... our mark!" Ivy almost wanted to stop, but the pleasure was too much. She grunted and preened her ass to the invading strap-on, spasming to the command of Harley's bursting ecstasy.

"Not for long," Selina replied, though Ivy barely heard her as she came long and hard.

Then she hung in the afterglow as Harley hugged her from behind, the dildo still scrunched up her sex. "No more waiting," Ivy breathed. "Who cares about the inheritance? Let's just kill him and ransack the place—there must be enough jewels in this heap for us to make it to Bolivia..."

"Yes, dear," Harley said, thinking she'd be happy to kill Bruce.

Just so long as she got his dick first, same as Ivy had.

***

They took Page to lock-up to wait for the paperwork on her marriage. Behind her white mask, she was silent. Roxy, meanwhile, took her pay-out from the job and immediately went to Josie's Bar. It was a low-down den of scum, but she was fine either finding someone to drag into an alley or finding someone to try and drag her into an alley. She'd already gotten laid, she could use a good fight.

She wasn't expecting to walk into a war zone. The crowd of ex-cons and prospective dirtbags was laid out, Batman standing in their midst, not even winded. With the lights knocked out, he was mostly shadow.

"I've been expecting you. Come with me."

Roxy followed. Batman was the only man she'd ever found who'd been able to keep up with her for any stretch of time. She'd give him a shot.

Back out under the night sky, in an alleyway of twisted fire escapes and decrepit furniture being cannibalized by some mutant strain of moss, he towered over her.

"I've been allowing you to run free. That was an oversight. You're a thrillseeker, Roxy—harmless enough, in your own way, but it's only a matter of time until you get pulled into something more sinister and someone really gets hurt."

"Look who's talking," Roxy replied.

He wasn't amused. "You can keep going with your present lifestyle, knowing that sooner or later you'll either be in jail or have blood on your hands, or you can go another way. I can offer you an outlet for your—urges."

"Yeah?" She eyed him. He was kinda cute, in a Dracula sort of way. His jaw was almost as square as Bruce Wayne's.

"I have operatives. You know the sort of work we do. Catching murderers, stopping robberies—exciting enough for you?"

"Maybe. What's in it for me, though? Rocket fuel ain't cheap, bud."

"So I've heard." He flipped her a card from his glove. It wasn't paper, but a very slender sort of smartpaper. Currently, it displayed an address. "Go there if you're interested. One of my associates will meet you there. If you do decide to go through with this, I'll expect you to obey my orders at all times—and treat my team's orders as if they were my own."

"So who's my friendly? Nightwing?" she asked hopefully.

"Robin."

"You're pawning me off on the boy wonder? What about fighting the League of Shadows with you?"

"Prove to me you can handle a night with him."

"And if I can?"

"I'll see about more dangerous work—and reimbursing you for your services."

"Yeah, all those Batman dildos they sell, bet you're just loaded." Roxy strutted off before he could pull a disappearing act, flexing the card curiously.

Batman observed her passage, silent and watchful. "Dildos..." he grumbled. He raised a hand to his cowl, starting up the communicator. "Wonder Woman," he vocalized, and the Justice League system patched him through automatically.

Diana's rich voice came through, always sounding a little clearer than anyone else's did over comms. "Bruce. Lovely to hear from you. Need the number of a good divorce lawyer?" she quipped.

"Just some help from an old friend. When could you make it to Gotham?"

"I'm a little tied up at the moment. Say, tomorrow? Day or night?"

"Day."

"Ah, so it's not the Bat that needs my help. Interesting. I don't suppose this has anything to do with you getting picked up by a woman?"

"Somewhat."

"Like they say in Man's World, 'this I gotta see.'"

***

Page Monroe sat in her cell. Even Bruce Wayne couldn't compel the courts to set an escaped convict free simply on his say-so, but she was being treated with kid gloves. She'd even been allowed to keep her mask. That was good. Perhaps Bruce thought she was beautiful, but the others—they saw how ugly she was.

She thought of his offer. Marriage. Mrs. Bruce Wayne Number Three. There'd be press. It'd be just like Kate Middleton. Overnight, she'd be a celebrity again, a fashion icon, interviews, magazine covers. She could put together a look on short notice—rustle up a wedding dress. Something slinky. Something hot. Hideous as she was, if she were Bruce Wayne's bride, they'd all have to look at her. She'd shove herself in their faces with a wedding ring even better than she could with a gun and a bunch of himbos. And—the honeymoon...

Perhaps Harley or Ivy would think she was beautiful too.