Chapter 24 - Cat and Mouse // Julia Pennyworth

Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!

"Oh~♡! Oh~♡! Mwah~! Ah~♡! Ahhh! Ohhh~! Ooh~♡! Ooooooh~♡! "

First thing in the morning, it was sex. Second, it was a blowjob. Third, it was oral. Fourth–

Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!

"You're so fucking good, Cass…so tight…!"

A loud groan devoid of ecstasy interrupted the moment. "You two are animals…animals, I tell you!"

Stephanie groaned again, laying on her bed utterly exhausted. Bags hung underneath her eyes. Her neck was fitted with a lace of hickeys. She turned, revealing the redness in her rear, and sighed as she watched the two intruders in her room.

Cassandra Cain and Aaron Reigner.

Yep, they just couldn't get enough of each other. Their hands rarely left each other and when it did it was because they were busy conjuring up another impossibly flexible position. Stephanie had seen them giving each other oral while on the edge of the bed. It was insane. The trust, the equilibrium, it was like what she had experienced with Tim or Dean wasn't sex. It was…lesser. Somehow. It wasn't supposed to make sense but watching them do it did. The sex was on a different plane of existence. It was hardly human.

Stephanie had given up half way into dawn, the two of them kept going. They just…never stopped. Right now, for example, Aaron was fucking her asshole. Drinking a bottle of water, Aaron laughed and continued to clap her cheeks. His hips rolled back and forth, back and forth. The wet noises of her asshole and his cock reverberated.

"Sorry, Stephanie. We'll be done in a moment." He leaned forward and whispered something in Cassandra's ears. Her back arched. Her hips started to beat against his pelvis faster. The rhythm seemed to match to the smallest nanosecond. His ballsack swung and pounded her rear. Stephanie watched with one eye, too exhausted yet finding it mildly soothing. The tempo seemed to go faster and faster, like the gradual increase of counting sheep.

"Here it is!" Aaron slammed himself into her and came. Stephanie sighed and watched him unload.

"You guys are insane…"

Cassandra stuck her tongue out, smug, then moaned as the cock withdrew out of her and transformed her expression into primal pleasure. The cum dripping from her rear was…asinine. Simply ridiculous. The volume must have exceeded a fucking bucket of milk.

"I swear, it's like your balls never run out," Stephanie commented, "I mean, I guess that's why they're so massive but still."

The window was open since the stench was sex stained every object and particle in the room. For a moment, Stephanie regretted choosing her room. However, after feeling the load inside her on top of the lingering aftershocks, she decided otherwise. Plus, despite how overbearing it was, the smell was delicious. Just maybe a little too strong.

"I've never seen Cass so…" Stephanie trailed off. She had known her best friend for so long but never had she acted like this. Never had she seemed like a decrepit whore or a willing participant to being a slut to a man. Her other half, her duo, was vaguely bisexual from what she had gathered and moderately interested in sex but this…this made it seem like she had the libido of a hundred prostitutes. Given her training and temperment, that was probably an understatement too.

Stephanie thanked all that was holy that the Wayne Manor was totally soundproof. Even when pressed to the door, nothing less than a nuclear explosion could leak out the room. That was how well-protected it was. The wood, metas, and alloys embedded within the walls were of the highest military-grade. Billions had been spent for the reconstruction of Wayne Manor and it was worth it.

Of course, there was the lingering fear that someone heard. "Ugh, I mean, we did fuck pretty loud…"

"We did." Thwap! Aaron's flaccid swung right in front of her eye. It was just…incredulous looking at that thing. How did it fit inside her? How had it fucked her? Stephanie Brown did not know. All she could seem to gauge from the monster cock was that it was bigger than all her previous boyfriends combined…

'Ha.'

Aaron Reigner read her inner monologue like a book. It was that easy for him. With his senses dialled up to eleven, he could see and hear the innocent emotions behind her movements. The way her eyes blinked, the way she decided to move her fingers. He had always been able to do this but now it was on a whole other level. Now he could understand people like a telepath without actually needing mind reading powers.

His penis was two inches away from her. She turned her so that her full settled onto its glorious, sheathed form. Circumcised, thick, subtly veiny, long and hanging, hiding a considerable nutsack…without the alcohol dulling her, Stephanie could react without reserve. Praise, compliment, and admire without holding back. Mesmerized, she could hardly hear him as he called out to her.

"Steph? Stephanie?" Aaron repeated. Sighing, he put a hand on his hip and intoned loudly, "My clothes, please."

"O-oh." Stephanie blushed and instantly rolled away to grab his stuff. "S-sorry, I thought you were going to ask me for a blowjob or something. Here…"

Aaron found her reaction cute but did not laugh. He couldn't blame her, after all, he was just…superior. His junk could probably tame the universe with its size and shale. Even so, he put on his pants to hide its presence. Stephanie ogled like a shameless pervert as he covered up the manhood that had been fucking her silly. Because…well…just like that, it was gone. Covered. The delectable smell cut from her nose. Protected by a fabric that would likely tear if it oh-so desired. Aaron was that big and virile. Not to mention the rest of his body was marvellous. A slutty waist that just tempted a woman to cling onto, lean muscles that refused to border on the ridiculous, and a handsome face accompanied. Even his fucking gluts were fantastic and probably as thick and toned as Nightwing's (Aaron could tell she would have to double check on that). All in all, Stephanie Brown could not find a single fault in him as a male specimen.

Cassandra stretched her arms out, breasts jiggling slightly, and allowed thick plops to fall from her gaping cunt. She sighed, relieved, then turned to Aaron.

"Shower?"

His lips twitched upwards. "Are we gonna fuck?"

Cassandra giggled and shook her head. "Cameras, so no. You wanna go first?"

"We have a special body wash to hide bruises and hickeys," Stephanie supplied.

'Cameras? Oh, in the halls. I see.' There probably weren't cameras in the rooms due to privacy reasons. Batman was paranoid but not that paranoid as to peek on his kids. The hallways were free real estate though.

"I guess you can go first, Cass." Aaron hid the disappointment in his voice well. Fucking the two Batgirls in the shower? Forget dreams, he would straight-up be in heaven.

"By the way, you two," Stephanie began, pulling over a shirt. Again, Aaron was silently disappointed from the lack of breasts. Her pretty erect nipples were addicting to leer at. The blonde paused, pantless, and then shook her head. "Actually, nevermind."

"What's up?" Aaron asked. "Oh, is it about the alcohol? I guess there's the issue of consent…"

"Uh, definitely not. Trust me, I definitely wanted this." Stephanie checked under her bed and searched for her undergarments. She huffed as she found her g-string, swore under her breath, then put them on. Aaron could hear and see the fabric slap into her rear. It was a snug, sexy fit. "Um…" Stephanie continued to busy herself by wearing a pair of pyjamas. She considered her next words carefully. Too carefully. Aaron started to worry.

"So…?"

"Ahem!" Stephanie cleared her throat and swept her peripheral. Her closet, Cassandra, her cabinet, strewn clothes, Aaron. "I'm just curious, are you guys dating?"

Cassandra blinked twice. Aaron forced a smile. "No, we're not," he responded.

"So…is this the first time you've…" Her gestures were sheepish and she turned red as she failed to explain her rationale. "...I'm guessing not, right?"

"We're…not friends with benefits if that is what you're insinuating." Aaron said. "It's…a little more than that."

"Oh, no, I get it." Stephanie played with the ends of her released hair. Golden locks twirled from her finger. "The whole Bat Family, the supervillains, I get it. You're just some guy. Er, no offence."

"None taken."

"I mean, you're not just some guy. Well, you are, but you…you know, you're just some guy with the biggest dick ever." Pause. Sigh. Face-palm. "Sorry."

Stephanie Brown. She was surprisingly normal.

Moreover, the silence beside him was striking. The nude Cassandra stared at the floor, pondering Stephanie's words. She wasn't as swift as him when it came to socializing so it took a while to digest his and Stephanie's comments. Aaron wished they had a better place to talk about it. Their feelings were constantly up in the air due to their noviceness. Neither of them were experienced in the world of romance. Ironic given their prodigious skill in sex.

"Let's just fetch breakfast," Stephanie said hurriedly, noting the stillness between them. "I'm sure, ah…well, actually…"

Aaron blinked. She seemed nervous. What was so special about breakfast to fester further hesitation in her?

***

"Dick, seriously? You couldn't even find the pancake mix? We're doomed."

"How!? How is this possible!? Why are eggs so fragile!?"

The Robins, mainly Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, and Dick Grayson were struggling to make breakfast. Seriously, it was an abysmal effort from the legendary trio. Damian was slamming the egg into the edge of the bowl while Dick and Tim scurried left and right searching for something. They must have put too many points into martials arts, detective work, and physical conditioning. It was like they were navigating the kitchen for the fifth time in their lives.

"This is what I was talking about," Stephanie said, sighing. "To be honest, even I'm not much of a cook. Nobody is. Not after…" Stephanie stopped herself, words dropping back into her lungs. A crestfallen shadow appeared underneath her. "Anyway, it's been bad. We want to hire someone but…we need someone really trustworthy. Someone who will know the consequences of what we do."

Fair enough. They couldn't just pluck in a chef without informing them of Wayne Manor's true purpose. Suspicion would grow, mistakes could be made, secrets could be leaked.

"Are they trying to make soft-boiled eggs with deviled soldiers and pancakes? Cassandra is a heavy eater so I get it b–"

Crack!

The yolk spilled over the counter. Damian growled in frustration and nearly caused another accident. A deep chuckle erupted beside him. It was Bruce fucking Wayne, watching his flailing kids with a coffee in hand. Amusement danced in his blue eyes. When the hell did he get there, Aaron asked silently.

"Oh, hello," Aaron greeted, "it's good to see you, Mr. Wayne."

"You as well, Aaron." Bruce nudged his coffee cup towards them. "Mind helping them? For my sake?"

Aaron nodded. He was going to do it anyway. He headed over, arms crossed, and gazed upon the chaos. He wasn't sure whether to be impressed. To achieve this kind of mess…Aaron hadn't seen it since his college days. Counters dripping with yellow yolk, batters of improper pancake flour, and what looked to be toast cut in all the wrong shapes. The long straight strips required for a soldier were nowhere to be found.

"Oh, thank goodness!" Tim skipped towards him with a huge sigh of relief. "We were about to make scrambled eggs unintentionally."

"Please, save us from this breakfast disaster," Dick added, appearing behind his adopted brother. "We are struggling!"

Aaron chuckled and then got to work.

"Okay, we need to time the eggs perfectly. Too soft, and they'll be runny; too hard, and they'll be solid. Precise timing is crucial. And no, timers won't help. You sometimes have to judge with your own intuition. The smell in the air, the logical timing, use the information in your disposal to make the best educated guess you can."

"I see…" Damian eyed Aaron as if he was the wisest master in all the lands. "Most insightful."

"No problem."

Dick and Tim took to his cooking skills faster. It was likely an age factor rather than a natural inclination. As grown adults, cooking meals wasn't new to them. The issue was cooking good meals. Most college students in his time served absolute shit. Aaron had picked himself up the boot straps, read over three dozen cook books, and became something close to a professional. The sweet old lady that was the original Red Tornado was unironically the closest thing to a mother-figure in his life due to her easy-to-grasp instructions. Her influence sometimes seeped into his cooking when he instinctively wanted to add tomatoes. Red Tornado had also been called Red Tomato due to the bright red colour of her costume and her inclination towards the old-fashioned fruit in her recipes.

With firm discipline, a bit of creativity, and support from the technical Tim Drake, breakfast was served. Six plates with two beautifully presented egg cups in the centre. Each egg cup held a perfectly cooked soft-boiled egg, delicately peeled to reveal the creamy, golden yolk. Surrounding the egg cups were slices of lightly toasted pancakes, with a hint of citrus zest and a sprinkle of powdered sugar. The pancakes were stacked neatly and a drizzle of maple syrup cascaded down the thick, fluffy batter. Fresh berries and mint leaves were artistically arranged around the plate.

The creative twist was largely Aaron's idea. The fridge had suffered from the chaos and he didn't want to waste too many ingredients. Rather, he wished to create a masterpiece with a small supporting cast.

"Dude," Dick began, swallowing his fork three times in one second, "Dude! This is amazing!"

"Agreed. Are you sure you're not a chef?" Bruce asked. The former billionaire had taken a particular liking to the beetroot pancakes.

Aaron shook his head curtly. "Thank you but no. This is all homemade."

He watched. He listened. He silently took notes. Damian wasn't a picky eater but did nudge towards the classic pancakes better. Dick wasn't. He was the total opposite, open and welcoming to the earthy tastes of the beetroot. Tim was picky and chose to compliment his breakfast with coffee.

Aaron did the same. Making a sugary, caffeinated monstrosity of his own, he sat down next to Tim and clinked cups with him.

Coffee bros, they said in their heads, sipping on the delicious swirl of roasted beans.

"It's…" Tim went for another long sip. "...it's like a reward."

"It is," Aaron agreed, sighing in delight. He slid his plate to Cassandra. It wasn't that he didn't want to eat, but…Cassandra was just hungrier. A single plate couldn't fill the ravenous pits of her stomach and he couldn't ignore her starving gaze either.

"So good," Cassandra praised, her cheeks instantly stuffed. Her wide grin was admittedly gross but cute.

"Again, no problem," Aaron responded, smiling. "Eat up."

They did. Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne devoured the breakfast like it was nothing. They were vigilantes and athletes so of course they needed a colossal amount of calories. Aaron wondered how they had managed to work so well in the past year without a proper cook. Lucky? Magic? Secret military-grade meals?

"Hello, Mr. Reigner!"

Chloe. Everytime he heard her voice, it was like everything was going to be okay. She wasn't his prized treasure just because she allowed him leniency with the Bat Family. No, her humble jump to the chair, her patience, her smile. She was the best kid a guy could ask for. He had saved a plate for her.

"I guess Ms. Carrie left?" Aaron asked.

"Yep! Just now! We were playing Lego Batman!" Chloe explained. Some of the Robins stared at Bruce, watching his reaction. The older male merely smiled.

"I hope you had fun," Bruce said.

"I did." Chloe beamed. "Joker is my favourite. He's so funny!"

'…yeah, okay, maybe I should limit her game time after all…'

Barring Chloe's innocent comment, breakfast went off without a hitch. Stephanie and Dick left to wash the dishes. Something about a schedule. Aaron wasn't paying too much attention as he was engrossed in a conversation with Tim.

"...so since his girlfriend is super mad, he's going to bring her flowers. Honestly? There's a fifty-fifty chance it'll work."

Duke Thomas. Apparently, he was trying to make up with Izzy after the Leviathan fiasco. He had been radio silent due to the effects of the anti-metahuman bullet. Tim explained he was slipping in and out of a coma, waking up once a week, if that. When he woke up in earnest, Leviathan was attacking the city. He had no time to text or talk. Fight, fight, fight, those were the orders given to him by Batman. The Signal got caught on camera in broad daylight because his metahuman powers of light and darkness hadn't fully returned.

Aaron pitied him. That was such shitty luck. Explaining to his girlfriend that that was the truth would be next to impossible.

However, now that the situation had died down, he could. Duke left the manor early to see Izzy. It was anybody's guess which direction their relationship would go. Aaron couldn't blame either party if they decided to end it. Duke had been incapacitated by the anti-metahuman bullet and Izzy and her friends had been utterly desperate for his support, only for it to never arrive. They felt totally abandoned, like they didn't matter. It was sad. Nobody was at fault here. It was just an instance of terrible circumstances.

"I give him sixty," Aaron replied. "If he gets her orchids, then maybe seventy."

"Do women love orchids that much?"

"According to my college roommate, yes."

"What about men?" Tim asked. "I have a boyfriend, so…"

"For a guy, forget flowers, spend the hundred dollars on a Lego set. I guarantee he'll like it."

Tim nodded along and tapped a finger to his temple. He was taking mental notes. Aaron wanted to laugh. What was he, a romance guru now? Guys or girls, he could advise every gender and sexuality like a Pokemon Master. This might have been the strangest change in his ordinary life yet.

It was disturbing just how well he and Tim got along. They were both coffee addicts, both from humble backgrounds, both calculated and smart, and both struggling with romance (not that Aaron would ever tell him that). The conversation switched from person to person, topic to topic, until they settled on Helena Bertinelli.

"Yeah, a school teacher. Sometimes, I can't believe it myself," Tim said. "Same with Selina. She just told us before leaving that she works at a museum."

"Work is work. Actually…" Aaron checked the time and sighed. "I'll have to leave soon as well. Running late for work…plus, I have an engagement after that."

The date thing with Iman. Fuck, it was a busy Thursday. He would have to drop Chloe off at Claire's, then head to work, and after that go to whatever event she wanted him to tag along to. Aaron wished he had had time to cool down. He was an introvert, not an extrovert. He needed at least two days to recharge. Oh well…

"You can leave Chloe here, if you want," Tim said.

"Oh, no, I couldn't–"

"Don't worry. I have nothing to do anyway."

"Are…you sure?"

"Yep. Today is my break. Most of us, besides Bruce, take at least one day off a week."

"Nah, Tim almost never takes breaks," Dick interjected. "Seriously, he's a workaholic. He's only saying that today because he's slightly hung over from yesterday."

Tim chuckled nervously. Since Chloe was here, they couldn't spell out their vigilantism but they could dance around it. Still, Aaron didn't want to involve Chloe if at all possible. He decided to change subjects and checked his surroundings for something new to talk about. His eyes settled on Dick Grayson, the original adopted stewart of the Wayne family. Aaron squinted.

"Dick Grayson…Dick Grayson…" Aaron repeated to himself, eyes narrowed.

"That's my name. What's up?"

"...you know," Aaron began, tilting his head, "that name has been ringing a few bells. Say, were you ever in a circus?"

Aaron had never seen another man brighten up that much.

"Haly's Circus!" Dick nearly stood up. "You heard of it!?"

"Yeah, when I was super young. Like…I think I was five? Six? They offered to perform for my orphanage for free."

"Yeah, yeah, we would sometimes do that!" Dick snapped his fingers and shook his head, grinning. "Oh, man! I can't believe it! Which part was your favourite? The tightrope? The jugglers? Ooh, ooh, how about the animals!? I bet you haven't forgotten about that even after all these years!"

The man was positively beaming. Aaron thought back for a moment, recollecting his memories, and answered his question in sincerity. "I think the Flying Graysons were my favourite. You know, the guy and girl who were flying? I thought that was pretty amazing. It was like Superman, you know?" It was a pretty casual remark. A compliment from his youth, a piece of nostalgia, and not intended to be something greater. Yet Dick softened and smiled the kind of smile a person would see once in a lifetime.

"Really?" Dick asked, suddenly low.

"Hm? Yeah."

From then on, Dick was all smiles. It was like a fundamental aspect of his soul had awakened. Aaron wondered what was going on until he saw Tim's ecstatic expression. Like always, Aaron's deductive mind went into overdrive.

'The Flying Graysons. Dick Grayson. Duh. They were his family…and if Bruce Wayne adopted him…' He glanced at the Wayne patriarch and noticed the mirth in his eyes. The pride as well as the sorrow. '...they died. I see.'

So that was why it meant so much to Dick Grayson. Who knew? Coincidence could be a scary thing but also quite wholesome.

"What's Haley's Circus?" Chloe's voice popped in. Dick shined down at her with a sunny grin.

"Aw, it was just the best. It's closed down now but back in its heyday…oh man! Just pure awesomeness!"

As the breakfast chaos settled and before I could leave, Bruce Wayne motioned for me to join him outside the kitchen. My heart raced a little, unsure of what he wanted to discuss. Bruce always had an air of authority that made even a simple conversation feel significant.

"Hey, Aaron," Bruce said, his voice calm and commanding. "I wanted to talk to you about something important."

Aaron nodded, trying to maintain a composed demeanour. Inside, though, his mind was racing. What could he possibly want to discuss with him? Did he do something wrong? He was the World's Greatest Detective. Maybe he picked up on something impossibly minute…

Once Stephanie and Cassandra had left to take a shower, he snapped his fingers and instantly warped the room back to what it was. No smell of sex, no puddles of cum or female juices, it dissipated like magic. So it couldn't be that. He couldn't have caught onto the fact that he fucked both Cassandra and Stephanie last night…right?

"I've been meaning to talk to you about our meals here at the manor," Bruce continued, his eyes focused. "I've noticed that you have a genuine passion for cooking, and I wanted to ask if you'd be interested in becoming our official chef."

Straight and to the point. Frankly, it caught Aaron off-guard. "Huh?" He did a double-take. "Of…Wayne Manor? Why?"

"You know why."

Aaron did. He knew their secret identities and regardless of whether he was good or bad they needed to keep a close eye on him. The moment Cassandra had hugged, the instant she had told him of her identity, the ship of a normal had sailed. Gone. He was going to be monitored no matter what.

"Carrie can take care of Chloe or, if you want, you can quit your job and stay with us full-time," Bruce explained. "I know it might seem a little…fast, but I believe this arrangement is the best option to bring peace to everyone."

Aaron didn't have a problem with it either. Logically, it was an arrangement with merit to it. He assumed he would get paid, not to mention he would get both a baby-sitter and additional time with Cassandra.

"I'm honoured but…you're right. Isn't this a little too fast?" Aaron asked.

"I'm the World's Greatest Detective. If you were suspicious, I would know. I trust you."

He spoke those words with the timbre of Batman–of a Justice League member. Chills went down Aaron's spine. To be acknowledged by THE Batman was breathtaking. The detective wasn't technically wrong either. Aaron held no ill-will towards Batman. In fact, he admired him. He agreed with his mission.

Standing so close to him as an equal was an interesting perspective as well. Ridiculously defined jawline, broad shoulders, neck muscles; the superhero body type shouldn't be even possible for ordinary humans yet Bruce Wayne stood with said idealized body type like it was nothing. From man to man, Aaron could acknowledge the hard work and dedication he needed to maintain muscles of that calibre. Of course, admiration from fellow males did not equate to female attention. Well, in Bruce Wayne's case, it didn't matter too much since he was rich, but it was an undeniable truth that women did not enjoy absurdly muscular men. Take Bane, for example. While he had seen fangirls for Joker and even the fucking Riddler, never once had he seen someone thirst over the comically brawny, drug-addicted latino.

He suddenly thought about watching a video on the female vs male gaze. The topic seemed intriguing. Maybe at work when there was time he could look it up.

"Plus," Bruce's face crossed with an appreciated smile, "at the party, the food was catered. But it was your cupcakes that stood out. And it's not just me, everyone agrees. I talked to Barbara. She did a lot of research on you. You're safe. You're…normal. It's just what this family needs, if you are willing."

Aaron chewed on his words. Despite how tempting his offer was, he needed to think about it.

"Don't worry, I'm not asking for an answer now," Bruce said. "Just sit on it."

***

Aaron was looking out the window in Iman's limo. Deep in thought, he reflected on the past days and how well things had come together. He had a new reliable babysitter, a job offer, cosmic powers, and a ticket to a fancy show. His life was so normal yet abnormal. Just how he liked it.

"You look troubled. Something wrong?"

Limos. They were so wide that Iman could face him without hindrance. Aaron glanced at her and faked a sigh.

"I have a daughter and I dropped her off at a new place. That's all."

"You…have a daughter?" There was a clear tone of unwillingness in Iman's voice. "Really?"

"Yep. Chloe. She's nine."

The reactions nearly caused him to be hysterical. "I see. That's…congratulations."

Iman did not press further. Inside, Aaron was cackling.

Everytime. Everytime. God, he loved Chloe. She was literally the greatest alibi he could have asked for. Have nothing to talk about? Talk about his daughter. Was something troubling him? His daughter. It was the most versatile excuse in the world. The recipients couldn't respond properly since Aaron looked too young to have a daughter in the first place. It was great.

"Where are we headed, by the way?" Aaron asked, genuinely curious. "You didn't tell me so…"

"Oh, right. Yes. We're going to Zatanna Zatara's magic show. It's for a charity."

Another? Sheesh. Where did all the charity money even go? Actually, he didn't need that question answered. It unquestionably went back into the pockets of the rich. The tax cuts from charity work were an open financial secret. There was a reason none of the money the wealthy supposedly raised made a substantial difference in the city. It was a never ending cycle of money laundering. A method for the rich assholes to suck their own dicks.

Did Zatanna not know? Or…wait, it was a charity co-hosted by Wayne Enterprises. Batman was likely using this to track the root of the corruption.

'Huh…would he actually do that? Ha, it's Batman, of course he's doing that.'

All of a sudden, he was looking forward to this. He was contributing to Batman's investigation (if his deduction was correct) and about to watch the sexy, luscious Zatanna Zatara up on stage.

The limo pulled over. It was time. Cameras waited for them as soon as they got off. Of course, it was less because of who they were and more about the attendance and success of the show. Wayne Enterprises and Zatanna Zatara. A crossover, for sure.

It was a calm, peaceful affair where they went inside the theatre and sat in their seats. The dimly lit theatre buzzed with anticipation as the audience eagerly awaited the start of the Zatanna Zatara magic show. Iman must have been looking forward to this evening for weeks as she had chosen the seats near the front row.

"Are you excited," Iman asked, steady yet quivering. "I can't wait…"

"Me neither. Zatanna is great." When a man said it, it was obviously a little…ahem…it could be perceived as a perverted comment due to her appearance. But what could Aaron do about it? What could Zatanna do? It wasn't like she could leave all that ass at home.

Poof!

The stage lit up and in a puff of white smoke Zatanna Zatara emerged, her presence commanding and enchanting. She was not facing the audience, however. Hands on her hips, holding onto the tip of her magician hat, her juicy heart-shaped ass for the world to gleam and ogle. Her little black coat barely hung over her black leotard, which flexed and highlighted the curvature of her ass. Knowing all eyes were on her, she turned. Her shining smile greeted the audience, her gorgeous facial features entering the fray soon after. Her heart-bowed lips were accentuated by red lipstick and her alluring cyan eyes were heightened by her soft angled eyebrows.

His pants churned. His breath hitched. Inside, his cock stirred. Who could blame him? This magician was just…sexy couldn't describe it. This was on another level of temptation. This was provocative and naughty that was purely magical and seamlessly punctured the hearts of men.

Facing forward, he could witness Zatanna's form in all its glory. From the iconic fishnet stockings clinging to her thick, gorgeous legs to the corset tightening her waist and overstuffed her white top. The show of cleavage was very, very daring. It was a flaunting of her large, gifted assets. The white bowtie wrapped around her neck and placed just on top of the flesh valley revealed just how strategic it was–just how strategic Zatanna was. She was hot and voluptuous and she used it to her advantage.

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen!" Arms thrown up, Zatanna's voice echoed through the theatre, her words carrying an air of grandeur. "Prepare to witness the extraordinary!"

With a wave of her hand, Zatanna conjured a bouquet of vibrant red roses, seemingly out of thin air. As she gracefully plucked each petal, the flowers transformed into a flock of fluttering doves, soaring above the audience. Gasps of awe filled the air as Aaron and Iman exchanged excited glances.

"I thank you all! Each and every last one of you for your patronage! Your efforts will not go to waste!"

The doves went in circles, performing tricks and then disappearing into the shadows. Many heads turned to see where they disappeared off to. There was no answer, only thrilled murmurs.

"Cool?" Aaron asked.

"Way too cool," Iman replied giddily.

Zatanna's charm and charisma were magnetic. She moved effortlessly across the stage, captivating everyone with her intricate sleight of hand. Coins vanished and reappeared in the most unexpected places, cards danced through the air, and objects levitated under her command. Truly, there was a reason she was a member of the Justice League. Beauty, power, money, prestige, she held it all within the tips of her gloved fingers.

Iman leaned over to Aaron, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. "Isn't she amazing? I can't believe the things she can do!"

Aaron nodded, his gaze fixed on Zatanna as she performed a mind-boggling illusion. He couldn't help but admire her confidence and stage presence. He could see through some tricks but not others. Especially because she switched between actual, reality-warping magic and stage magic. It was a spectacle of talent and hard work. A sight that could not be fully captured by a video on the internet. In person, directly in front of you, that was when you could recognize the sorceress's delightful skills.

For anyone not attracted to women, there was the occasional slip. The perversion. The eroticism. The part of her shows that caused her to sell out everywhere. They jiggled. They bounced. Aaron pretended not to notice. So did the rest of the audience. It was always brief and innocent. Unintentional. The ladies either pitied her or envied her. Did she forget to wear a bra or something? Or perhaps it was intentional recoil of her tits, a strategy to gain the male gaze.

Well, it was working. This was the first time Aaron wanted to whip his dick out in public. He didn't, of course, because he wasn't a fucking idiot. But a guy could dream.

It was an hour long show. Somehow, Aaron managed to keep it in his pants. He saw a few men get up to relieve themselves in the bathroom. The term relief meant jerk off. He wondered if she slipped aphrodisiac-like magic into her performances. Was it normally to be this horny at a magician's show?

She paraded her body like a whore while managing to conduct herself with dignity and professionalism. Aaron supposed it said more about the males than her.

At the forty minute mark, Aaron decided to get up to go to the bathroom. Not because he had to jerk off but because he genuinely needed to piss. He tapped Iman on the thigh and told her as much. She was too infatuated by Zatanna to care.

The theatre was empty and he half-jogged to the nearby restroom. Chosen One or not, he had to his urges. Luckily, no one was around and he could piss in peace. He selected the middle urinal, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and exposed a portion of his black boxers. As expected, they had a remarkably prominent and large bulge, almost as if he had stuffed it with a pineapple. Obviously, that wasn't the case. He was just ridiculously well-hung.

He pulled on the waistband and his limp cock flopped out and slapped his thigh, the thwap echoing through the washroom. Aaron winced. There was a reason why he never used public bathrooms. Being hung like a horse was a curse. Having to put on pants was an ordeal in itself. He needed time and space to be able to pee.

'I must have drank too much coffee in the morning…or maybe Wayne Manor uses expired beans.'

He was pressed to the urinal, minding his own business, when someone else entered. No biggie. It was a public area. Except said male decided to break the sacred bro code and slipped directly next to Aaron.

'What the fuck is he doing? There are literally seven other urinals? Are you blind?'

The disruptive smell of cigarette wafted through his nose. Aaron nearly blanched. It was almost as bad as intentionally ignoring every open urinal to use the one to his right. Almost. Hearing the man unbuckle his belt was grating. Fuck, he just wanted to leave. Unfortunately, he couldn't. His bladder hadn't emptied yet.

Then, against all odds, all of what Aaron desired, the man decided to break rule number two of bathroom etiquette and spoke gingerly. "Nice meetin' you 'ere. You 'ere for the Zatanna show?"

Why was he speaking!? Did British people not have bathroom etiquette? Was it not a universal rule? It didn't make sense, they were using the fucking urinals! Why!?

"...yeah." Aaron's response was curt and unfriendly. He did not wish to participate in a conversation and he hoped he made his intentions clear.

The man with the strong English accent paused. Did he get the message? Hopefully. Middle-aged men tended to flap their mouths unnecessarily but would shut up if the opposing party seemed uncomfortable. That was not the case this time and the man flapped his mouth anyway.

"Bloody 'ell," the blonde male exclaimed, his eyes widening in astonishment as he laid eyes on the gargantuan monstrosity dangling from Aaron. The swagger that had been enveloping him was momentarily replaced by genuine shock. "That's a right massive bugger, innit? Didn't expect a pecker to ever be that bleedin' huge."

Aaron cringed. 'Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up…'

On the outside, he was as cool as a cucumber. He didn't look, he didn't respond, he didn't twitch. He merely glanced at the other male's face.

Blonde and rugged, he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair. While Aaron needed both hands to guide his penis, the rough looking stranger needed one. "'Ere I was thinkin' I'd seen it all, and now I'm standin' next to a proper behemoth. Just goes to show mother nature never ceases to amaze."

"Sure…" Curiosity got the better of him and Aaron decided to peek at the man's package. He didn't want to be mean but he was fucking tiny. Flaccid was no excuse.

'So what the fuck is up the excess confidence? The rough exterior? The badass coat?' The scruffy blonde British man had a two inch long penis, accompanied by a pouch smaller than a single testicle of Aaron's. The contrast was asinine. They were the same height too yet the difference in manhood was staggering. Even Aaron's stream of yellow piss was ten times stronger.

"Ya know, as fuckin' massive as that thing is, I bet it's never been inside of Zatanna Zatara." The man didn't seem deterred as he continued the conversation. "Jealous? I know I would be."

His penis didn't even hang over his balls. Aaron was literally four times bigger than him. To add insult to injury, Aaron was rich, good-looking, had family and friends, and was the esteemed Chosen One of the omniverse. Aaron might not have been a bragger but he was a realist. He was as jealous as Superman was to Lex Luthor.

'Zatanna got fucked by you? Jesus, dude, you better be a grower. The girl deserves something to match her tits and ass. Something nice and big to come home to.' A sharp inhale through his nose. He was growing agitated and rightfully so. Much to his annoyance, his stream of piss refused to stop. His bladder wasn't empty yet. He shook down his penis and his agitation. 'No offence.'

He could not ignore the English side-eye, the pestering accent, and the silent encouragement to reply. The discussion was practically forced on him. "Boyfriend?" Aaron asked.

"Former boyfriend. Ha! Now there's a bloody story, mate." The British male sighed, his voice tinged with a mix of fondness and regret. "We were like fire and ice, passion and sorcery intertwined. She had that spark, that magic that could mesmerize anyone who crossed her path. But in the end, it was our differences that tore us apart."

Aaron shook down the last bits of his piss before tucking his schlong away. Fuck this conversation and fuck this guy. He just wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately, the stranger's bladder hadn't been as full as his and he finished at the same time as Aaron. Their actions were almost mirrored, except Aaron took longer due to his significantly larger cock. Again, having dick and balls four times bigger than the other guy and silently comparing the experience of their respective endowments was amusing and comical. But it wasn't that amusing. Aaron would much rather be left alone.

He wasn't.

"Oh, but it wasn't the old tudger that was wrong. Seriously, it may look tiny to you, but this baby works like a charm. It ain't about the size of the ship but the motion of the ocean if you get my drift." The two of them washed their hands together. Aaron nearly sighed as he listened to the ramblings of the middle-aged British man. "Zatanna, she's all about the light, the grand illusions, and saving the world with her flashy magic tricks. Me, well, I'm more comfortable in the shadows, dancing with demons and embracing the darkness. We clashed, you see, like bloody hellfire and holy water."

"Okay…"

Aaron dried his hands with the hand dryer. The gust of artificial wind would have felt pleasant if not for the rough voice assaulting his ears.

"We had some wild times, no doubt about that. The sparks between us could set the Thames ablaze. But deep down, we knew we were destined for different paths. I couldn't give up my reckless ways, my penchant for delving into the forbidden and the dangerous. And she couldn't let go of her unwavering commitment to being a hero, to continuing her magician act." A wistful smile crossed his face as he reminisced. "But make no mistake, mate, there'll always be a part of me that carries her with me, like an old spell gone awry. She's a force of nature, that one. And although our paths diverged, I'll always have a soft spot for that bloody magician."

"Wow, I see. That's good for you." Aaron tried to escape him by leaving the bathroom. He followed like a puppy.

"The name's John Constantine, by the way. Been scouring the town for a strong source of magic in this city. Have you seen it? Lotta strange shite happens in Gotham. Could be magic. Ya never know."

Weirdly enough, he sensed the truth in his words. His accent and chosen words were picked with a touch of arrogance, sarcasm, and wit, but one thing remained clear amongst the Chosen One's senses: John Constantine was not an ordinary man. His presence radiated an intensity that demanded attention, a force that stirred the very fabric of reality.

"No."

Except Aaron gave no shits about John Constantine or his alleged stories. He wanted to see Zatanna. He wanted that leotard in his face, not the stinky breath of a decrepit guy from England.

"Drat."

John Constantine casually reached into the pocket of his worn trench coat, his fingers deftly retrieving a crumpled pack of cigarettes. With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, he extracted a single stick and placed it between his lips, the end dangling slightly. Aaron watched him, bewildered.

"Smoking isn't allowed here," Aaron stated.

"Says who?" John asked.

"The sign." He pointed at the sign directly behind him. John turned, then laughed.

"Well, I'll be damned. Can't believe even the theatre would betray me." He took one long puff, dropped the cigar, and then stomped it beneath his feet. Aaron pretended he wasn't cringing. The red carpet was definitely going to be fucked up and an unfortunate janitor would be responsible for cleaning it up.

"Say…" John began, his voice filled with a charm that could bewitch even the most reluctant souls. "You wouldn't happen to have a spare couch or a cozy corner in your humble abode, would ya?"

Aaron looked taken aback, gobsmacked at the audacity of the request. "... I'm sorry, but I don't think I can just let a stranger crash at my place."

'Was this what the conversation was for!? Getting a place to stay!?' Aaron was blank. He offered no emotions to this John Constantine. No sympathy whatsoever. Whether Zatanna was his boyfriend or not, whether the city was suddenly engulfed in magic, it didn't matter.

John shrugged, an impish grin playing on his lips. "Fair enough, mate. Just thought I'd give it a shot. Can't blame a bloke for trying, right? But if you ever change your mind or find yourself in need of a magical adventure, you know where to find me–on the streets of this American shithole."

John walked off to the exit and without looking back raised a waving arm, as if they were friends that had known each other for decades and were bidding a heartfelt goodbye. They weren't. This was the first time Aaron had met the man and it was at a fucking urinal.

The absurdity of the situation actually caused him to crack up. 'Alright, maybe I was taking him too seriously. He was funny even though he broke the dude code. Whatever.'

Aaron laughed till he recalled the gorgeous figure of Zatanna Zatara. Fuck the cigarettes, fuck the magic, he wanted to see the bootylicious sorceress.

Iman hardly heard him slip back down next to her. Sitting down, comfortable, watching the minutes of a sexy magician at play, Aaron should have felt at ease. Yet in the back of his mind there was a tingle. Zatanna disappeared and reappeared in an instant, a display of magic that caused the audience to go into an uproar. It was so impossibly fast that it shouldn't have happened. Physics would not allow it.

Strangely enough, Aaron wasn't keen to figure out the mystery. His mind was dissociated from the show. He wanted to smack himself. His arms on his lap, still as an unimpressed audience member.

'What's wrong with me? Focus.' The tits were right there but he couldn't. It was like…this was too good to be true. Right after he left the manor, right after an easy day of work, he was greeted with this? Zatanna Zatara herself? Iman had brought him here and…and…

Something was nagging at him and it wouldn't stop. A train of thought that ignored the breaks and kept twisting and turning until…until…

'Wait a fucking minute…' He blinked seven times, pretending to be awed by her magic. He wasn't. It wasn't magic that was shocking him, it was the harrowing discovery he just made.

'A strong source of energy in Gotham, the sudden appearance of Zatanna in Gotham by Wayne Industries…it's way too good to be true. Iman didn't even tell me where we were going until today. Right now. I get it now…this is Batman's doing. His little scheme.'

All those words, the offer to babysit Chloe, to hire him as a chef, it was a fake-out. A way to earn his trust. He should have seen it. Why would the World's Greatest Detective trust him with his most devastating secret? He wouldn't. No way. Cassandra had once told him that Batman was more paranoid than an owl. Just because he cooked well and gave Dick some comfort wouldn't make all that paranoia disappear.

'To think he said all that without actually meaning it. Batman hid his intentions well. Scarily well.'

Aaron understood why as well.

The Chosen One. The dangling thread in the mystery of Leviathan. That was what Batman was trying to solve and his only suspect was him: Aaron Reigner. Batman had likely deduced the coincidences surrounding him were too good to be true. His relationship with Cassandra, the Harley-Ivy incident, his very brief interactions with Hadiyah and Jace at Tanya Fox's party, his escape from the Tournament of 100, the sudden disappearance of Angel Breaker and Prometheus, and finally, the emergence of a powerful source of magic. The detective had managed to narrow it down to Aaron as the connecting thread.

He was the World's Greatest Detective. Of course he did.

Aaron glanced up at the ceiling. Given the discreet yet thorough nature of his actions, the detective's plan was simple: to get him to drop his guard. Perhaps, like Angel Breaker and Prometheus, the Bat was aware that the Chosen One was compatible with all of reality, including magic. He wanted to see if Zatanna could sense it. He likely invited this John Constantine character too, although it was clear he wasn't a stickler for the detective's orders. He suspected John had come to the theatre to leer at his ex, not to actually cooperate with her on the investigation. After all, he had left the place to smoke. Aaron could detect he was honest in that desire.

'John Constantine…I don't know who you are but thank you.'

A smile grew on his face. Aaron had to hand it to the detective, he almost got him. On top of that, he was sure that somewhere, whether physically or through a hidden camera, Batman was monitoring him. Scanning his every move. Judging him.

'So he thinks he's trapped me? I'll admit, it was a good play. Too bad that it got spoiled.' Talk about luck. The universe really did love him. If Aaron hadn't run into John (or John hadn't bumped into him like a crazy homeless guy), then the plan would have flown over his head. Things would have gone like this: he would approach Zatanna at the behest of Iman (who was likely doing this under Bruce's orders), talk to her, the sorceress supreme would cast a spell to expose his status as the Chosen One, and the remaining pieces of his actions would fall into his place. Aaron's cover would totally be blown.

Additionally, Batman had Chloe and a general sense of who Aaron was. Two key advantages. On the other hand, Aaron possessed three secret trump cards. First, the detective couldn't monitor him too closely when he was with Cassandra since the Batgirl was a monstrous fighter with absurdly sharp senses. If she, his adopted daughter, learned what Batman was doing, there was a chance she would lose all trust in him.

Second, Chloe. As long as Chloe was around, he could move as he pleased. If he didn't want to work for them, he could use Chloe as an excuse. If he wanted to go somewhere, again, Chloe was there. She was attentive and would agree to his little plans. The girl had once been homeless and he had already tested if she listened to him. She did, to the tiniest detail. She played the part of an adopted daughter incredibly well.

Third had to do with Catwoman. She was carrying out a little mission for him. It would be important for later. Aaron suspected something like this would happen and put in a countermeasure just in case, but not this soon. His opponent was much cleverer than he presumed.

Aaron cupped his cheek, smiling. Put simply, this was a battle of wits between him and Batman. A game of cat and mouse. A chase.

There had to be a crack in his plan. A hole he could exploit. But who? How? Aaron thought he saw Sid Bunderslaw in the audience. Would he be useful though…? Probably not. His eyes wandered and settled on the Persian beauty beside him.

'Maybe the crack is closer than I thought.'

Iman Avesta. Since she was totally unaware of his daughter, the chances Iman was told of her purpose here was slim. In other words, she didn't know this was a mission to trap the Chosen One. At best, she was told to keep an eye on him for safety reasons.

Interesting. That gave a little insight as to how Batman treated his allies. Lure them close but not too close. Offer them rewards and friendship but never the truth.

Time seemed to slow. Think, think, think. He removed his hands from his cheek and drummed his fingers on his lap. 'How do I get out of here without causing alarm? I'll need Iman's help. I'll need to control. Should I just kiss her? No, that would be too out of character, he'd figure it out instantly.'

Strangely, Aaron wasn't panicking. He was as cool as the other side of his pillow.

Meanwhile, Zatanna proceeded to summon fireworks through her hat. Applause. Some people stood up. Zatanna ran across the platform and swooped down the remaining crackles in the air into her hat.

Swish and bow.

"Thank you, thank you!" Her hat extended, head bowed, cleavage in their direction, and a wink, she caused a greater uproar. She stood up straight, smiled, and raised her arms out. "This was Zatanna Zatara, Mistress of Magic! Remember that name!"

As the audience continued to applaud her, with a final flourish, she vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving the audience in awe and another thunderous round of applause. Next to him, Iman stood and clapped. Silent but glowing with enthusiasm.

'She's not pretending. She really enjoys Zatanna's shows. Hm. A mistake on Batman's part. '

The audience dispersed and headed into the foyer. There was a large crowd centered around Zatanna. Conversations were exchanged and cheques were written. There was also a camera following the magician. Aaron made sure to stay clear as servers carrying drinks zig-zagged the area.

Aaron smiled as he took two glasses. "A drink?"

"Sure," Iman replied, immediately taking a sip. "I was thirsty."

'You should have told her more, Batman. Telling her to just keep an eye on me is too vague.'

He calmly sipped on his drink and watched her. In the background, a buzz of noise came from Zatanna and her presence. Although away from that crowded region, they could listen in on them. Frankly, it was just a bunch of nonsense. Flirting, donations, sexual innuendo, and arrogant phrases of the rich. Aaron wondered how Zatanna put up with it.

"You know," Iman began, suddenly talkative, "I'm Arab so I'm not supposed to drink. Being in Gotham changed that."

"You're from Iran, right?"

"How'd you figure?"

"Heard you speak Farsi once," Aaron explained. "Iran has banned alcohol, if I'm correct."

Iman nodded and took a small mouthful of wine. "I believe so. Of course, I was born and raised in Gotham. I am not too attuned with my ethnicity besides knowing the language and culture. My dad forbade me from drinking, but well…life kicks you in the ass sometimes."

She must have been tipsy if she was swearing. Even so, Aaron didn't stop her.

Another sip. Iman tilted her head back and proceeded to down the rest of it. Aaron pretended to be surprised and then offered her his chalice.

"Need another?"

"Haha, thank you."

He keenly observed her taking his half-drunk glass of wine and emptying it in an instant. He smiled.

By drinking his glass, she absorbed his saliva into her system. A small, insignificant amount, but an amount nonetheless. He could feel the neural link, the shift in her eyes.

Iman Avesta was in his control now.

He didn't verbally give orders. A mere glance and Iman knew what to do. She obeyed. She listened. With the sliver of pure Element X inside his soul, growing and growing with every passing day, he didn't need to give a roundabout order. He could circumvent it entirely.

It was an impossible tell. An undetectable change. Not even Batman would notice.

"I got backseat tickets to Zatanna's dressing room," Iman brought up. There it was. Batman's trap. This was how he was going to be led to Zatanna. Where she would expose him. "I was lucky. Between the directors, only one person and their partner could go. I was chosen."

'Yeah, right. I bet it was rigged. Bruce Wayne gave it to you.'

Coincidence after coincidence. Ha! The odds were really stacking up. Normally, this would have garnered a little bit of suspicion but at this point it was downright confirmation. Aaron pretended to nod appreciatively. "Lucky." A smile crept on his face. "My daughter will be so jealous when I tell her I met Zatanna. She's her idol."

He was sure that comment would give Batman pause. Daddy issues, the most weaponizable thing in the world. Aaron was aware of how Bruce Wayne's parents were shot and killed in front of him. Everybody in Gotham knew. It was what spurred Batman on, made him who he was today: a paranoid, logical, intelligent, yet emotionally-driven detective.

Arriving at the magician's door, Aaron could feel the magic swirling inside. Was she just going to blast him with it? No, probably not. Iman was with him and she was an innocent bystander. He suspected a magic circle. A trap. Something that would go unnoticeable in the chance he was innocent.

Afterall, the fact that Batman was going out of his way to do this meant he had no grounds to confront him. No tangible proof. Only this elaborate plan that he could only entrust to a close alley. The details to Bruce and Zatanna's relationship were lost on him but he could casually deduce that it was not just professional. Maybe there was romance or maybe it was purely platonic.

It didn't matter regardless. For now, Iman opened the door and the two of them went in. Zatanna sat her dresser and reapplied her red lipstick. She puckered her lips together and pretended she saw them through the corner of her mirror.

"Oh, hello!" Zatanna's voice was genuinely lovely and her curves more so as she stood up from her chair. He wished he could one day rip her stockings and hear her moan. "You must be the visitors. Come in, come in!"

Aaron noticed a carpet between them. He smiled. So that was it. Underneath it was the magic circle. Again, it was discreet. If he wasn't the Chosen One, it would have gone under his nose. But he could see the magical outlines as though he had x-ray vision. Judging by Iman's calm eyes, that wasn't supposed to be the case. The magic circle was intended to be hidden under the carpet completely, not glowing like a neon light on a street.

He suspected Batman had also fitted the place with cameras and microphones. On paper, there was nothing Aaron could do to deactivate them and to prevent Batman from noticing suspicious activity. There was nowhere else to go.

Aaron stopped onto the carpet.

Nothing happened.

He could see the confusion dancing in Zatanna's gorgeous eyes. She seemed almost hesitant as he and Iman stepped forward.

"Your performance was incredible," Iman praised. "I've been watching you and your father since I was a little girl. Just…fascinating."

"Thank you!" Zatanna recovered quickly and graced the Persian woman with a smile. She gestured to the top hot on her dresser table. "You want me to sign it for you?"

"Oh, yes!" Iman clasped her hands together. "Please. It would mean a lot to me."

Aaron stayed quiet, hands in his pockets. On the inside, he was cackling and he could practically hear the perplexity from the Bat Cave. Here was the hole in Batman's plan, a facet of his being he did not understand: Aaron Reigner was undetectable.

To God, to Death, to the universe, the Chosen One did not exist. He did not register within their omniscience. The Manhunter said it himself during their conversation. He was simply undetectable. A spell from a great magician would have worked on anyone but him.

'How unlucky for you, Batman. Your plan was flawless. You only lacked information. To completely activate my skill and avoid springing her magic circle, I had to think empty thoughts. Admittedly a little difficult because of Zatanna's stockings but easily doable as long as I was focused.'

How did he know? Cosmic intuition known as the Collective Unconscious.. It was like the universe was advising him on what to do and the results were plain to see. He had casually trudged through the most dangerous magic circle in the universe without blinking, and now that he had stepped off the carpet and magic circle, he was free to think as he pleased. Of course, once he stepped back on it again, he would have to clear his thoughts. For a calm, rational person like Aaron, it was as easy as eating pie.

'It really is a good thing I figured it out in time. Otherwise, I would have gotten caught.'

"Hey, this might be strange," Aaron said, "but could I get your number? My daughter is a huge fan of yours. She'd love it if you could talk to her. She's asleep right now so I don't think I can reach her now."

"Aww, of course! I don't mind. As long as you don't spread it." Zatanna winked at him. He smiled and bowed his head a little.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Aaron and Iman decided to leave not long after. Empty thoughts, empty thoughts. He got away. The magic circle did not activate as his shoes nonchalantly crept on top of it.

As the door closed, he could hear Zatanna calling up Bruce and telling him that he was totally wrong. As the Chosen One, his hearing had evolved to the point that he could hear across entire buildings (assuming he focused intensely–he still didn't have complete control over it). Stepping into the limo, he could hear her complaints through walls and doors.

The limo started to move. He could still hear. A kilometre, two kilometres–

"–not a zilch of magic. I thought I sensed magic in the crowd but honestly? I feel that kind of thing all the time. Human magi that don't know of their potential are more common than you think. When they get exposed to my magic, they feel it and their bodies naturally respond to it by radiating a little magic of their own. It's normal."

He couldn't catch Bruce's response. The phone was too quiet, too low. Fortunately, he didn't need to. Zatanna's replies gave him a pretty good picture of what he was saying.

"It was a quadruple-layered magic circle. If he was the Chosen One, if he was some sort of reality warper, I would have noticed. You trust my expertise, right Brucie? Then listen when I say this guy isn't it. The Chosen One is here in Gotham but they are not this Aaron individual."

A murmur from the phone. Aaron waited patiently. Thank god Iman was silent. It wasn't easy focusing on their position in a moving car. He required total focus.

"No problem." A sigh from Zatanna. "The next suspect is Dick, huh? I mean, saying your own son is the Chosen One is a bit conceited, wouldn't you think? Wait, John is also on the list? Wait, you brought him here to Gotham!?"

She seemed petrified by John's presence. So it was true, the British man he met at the urinal was Zatanna's ex boyfriend. Interesting. Her reaction was a dead give away. 'To think the ramblings of a cocky British guy would help me outfit the greatest detective. I got lucky,' Aaron thought.

Nonetheless, Zatanna was closer to Batman than he assumed. Another interesting facet of her life but largely irrelevant. The main takeaway was Batman's method of investigation. Aaron was just another suspect among a long line of them. That made sense. The World's Greatest Detective had to remain objective and count his losses when he had to. Given his cunning nature, he likely already prepared a plan to expose Dick too. According to Cassandra at least, Batman was the type to have plans stretching the alphabet. Dick, Tim, Aaron, Superman, whoever the Chosen One was, Batman had a plan to rip apart their identity.

***

Nighttime had descended upon Gotham City. Iman dropped him at Wayne Manor, albeit with a puzzled expression. She did not ask though. Good girl.

Tim opened the door for him. As promised, he had been taking care of Chloe and had even tucked her into bed. Aaron thanked him for his help.

"Oh, by the way, Bruce wants to talk to you in the living room. I think it's about the job offer thing?" Tim said.

"He told you?"

Tim smirked. "Nope, I figured it out."

Located on the ground floor of the mansion, paralleling the kitchen area, was the common space for relaxation and family gatherings. The living room was spacious with high ceilings and large windows that allow ample natural light to filter in. A grand fireplace stands as a focal point, providing both a source of warmth and a touch of old-world charm, faced by a large couch.

Bruce Wayne sat on said couch, glowering. Upon hearing him, however, his expression rose with politeness.

"Good to see you, Aaron. I hope work went well," Bruce said. Aaron decided to sit on the single sofa beside him. The two of them peered into the fireplace. Bruce exhaled. "I owe you an apology."

"Why?" Aaron asked, acting his ass off. "Is it about the job offer?"

"Yes," Bruce admitted. "I think I might have jumped the gun. If you want, you can stay with your daughter and live your life out normally."

A hand pressed his cheek, Bruce grimaced. He must have been truly surprised if he was opening up like this. The blur between Batman and Bruce Wayne was plain for Aaron to see.

"To be honest, I was thinking of accepting," Aaron replied. "I need a good babysitter and I think Ms. Carrie would do a great job. Plus, there's the money. I could retire early."

"Yes, of course," Bruce said, all of a sudden wanting to accommodate him. "Us Waynes aren't gentle when it comes to pay." He paused. A sigh. "Sorry, it's just that…Cassandra revealed her secret identity to you. It's a big, big deal to the rest of us. Maybe it's hard to grasp because…well…revealing our identities to a lover is something I would do."

"Really?" Aaron was surprised. Was he wrong about his paranoia?

"I craved love to the point where I made irrational decisions. Most of the women who knew my great secret have died. Silver St. Cloud, Amina Franklin, Dawn Golden, Jezebel Jet, Natalya Trusevich, Vesper Fairchild…" Okay, that was a LOT of women. Aaron didn't expect Batman of all people to be so irresponsible. "Even for those that lived, there were consequences to pay. It isn't pretty." Bruce glanced at him. "I just don't want Cass to fall into the same pit I did. That's all."

This. This was it. He wasn't pretending this time. He was opening up. Good. Very good. Aaron plastered on a comforting smile.

"You would do anything for her. I get it," Aaron responded, coating his words with authentic emotion. "I would do the same with Chloe."

"I understand." His voice grumbled, staring off into the flames. "You can start on Monday, if you like. If you want to move in, you can do that too."

"Ah, no thanks. I'd like to come over but I'd still like my own place."

"You can drop Chloe off here then. Carrie comes to the manor three times a week anyway. If we double her pay, you shouldn't mind staying whenever you want."

The deal was set. His name was crossed off from the list of suspects and Batman's hunch was thrown to the wind. The Chosen One was safe. Aaron was safe.

…at least that was what he thought but Bruce's features were still narrowed–still conflicted. Thinking, thinking, thinking. 'Did I miss something? This conversation should be over…'

"Sorry. I really am, but…there is one last thing I have to tell you." Like an old man telling a childhood trauma, Bruce sighed. Hands interlocked, elbows on his legs, he stared at the fireplace. Another sigh. "See, when Barbara was investigating you, we…found something. It's why I found it difficult to trust you. Again, I am sorry." He sounded sincere and…sad.

'What is he talking about?' His heart raced.

"Your daughter, Chloe, she's adopted, yes?" Bruce's question sent him for a loop but tentatively Aaron nodded. The Batman breathed in. "There's well-documented records on her. From her birth certificate to the papers leading to her placement in foster care–old but authentic. It took a while but we found them to be a little after No Man's Land nearly ten years ago. Chloe was born to a fifteen year old Gothamite. A blonde, blue-eyed, naive teenager whose boyfriend abandoned her when the earthquake struck. She thought she could raise it. She thought wrong and in the end she made the choice to put her daughter up to adoption."

Aaron didn't like the feeling sinking into his stomach…

Bruce continued as he glanced at him for perhaps the third time. "It was her decision and you couldn't fault her for it either. She was just a little girl and it was the only way for her to keep crime-fighting." A breath from the Batman, then a sorrowful glance to the floor. "We couldn't believe it at first. I told Barbara to do a blood test and…it was as the records showed. We haven't told her yet."

"...who?" Aaron asked, throat dry. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a vigilante…in his mind, the options dangled between two people. "Who is the mother?"

Bruce stared him right in the eye and said, "It's Stephanie. Stephanie Brown. She's Chloe's mother."

Aaron…didn't know how to react. He had seen the similar features–the golden locks, the blue eyes, the chirpy personality, and even the way they ate. But…mother and daughter? He put a hand over his mouth. He wasn't acting at this point, he was sincerely shocked.

"I know this is a lot to take in. I can see you didn't know. I'm sorry." Again, his apologetic expression was authentic. The World's Greatest Detective could not find a crack of dishonesty. "We haven't told anyone yet, including Stephanie because…well…we don't know how she'd react. Guilt? Sadness? Joy? Plus, legally speaking, she doesn't have a right to visit her or adopt her but–"

"If Stephanie ever wanted to visit Chloe or to try to be her mother again, I won't stop her. As long as it's what Chloe wants," Aaron said, regaining his bearing. "Like you said, she was a pregnant fifteen year old girl during arguably the worst disaster in American history. I'm not sure there's a man or woman on this Earth who would have been able to handle the responsibility. I was sixteen when it happened. I saw what it did to the people. Homeless people were everywhere and the buildings were just…messed up. I'm pretty sure half of my high school school ended up falling apart."

"Thank you for understanding." Bruce looked relieved. What, did he think he was going to a petty dad that would fight tooth and nail for pointless custody? No, never.

"You took a big risk telling me," Aaron pointed out. "Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me. I'm sure you understand why I told you." Bruce's expression narrowed. Ah, so this was the infamous Bat Glare. "If anything happens to Chloe, then I will not hesitate to treat you like any other criminal. And the same is for Cassandra. I don't know whether you mean to be just friends, but I expect you to be on your best behaviour."

'Ah, since I'm a normal civilian, by saying this you think I won't do anything. I'll continue to be, well, normal. Smart.'

Put simply, it was a hollow threat. At best, he would scare him in costume. Rather than succumb to his fear, Aaron hardened. "I won't, sir."

Bruce studied his expression like he was an animal to be tested. Face, hair, eyebrows, his eyes darted in a single instant and managed to absorb and connect his emotions. His shoulders relaxed. "Good," Bruce said. "I like my coffee black, by the way."

A joke. Aaron laughed.

Bruce Wayne was an interesting man. The line between his secret identity and his real life persona was fascinating to watch in-person. It wasn't an immediate switch but rather a change in shade. Subtle and indiscernible until the goosebumps started.

More importantly, there was what he said. He was honest, compassionate, and firm. Since Chloe was related to Stephanie, one of his old Robins, he would protect her too. Aaron could see it in his hawk-like blue eyes.

'Good. It makes my job easier. Having Batman as Chloe's guardian is the best thing I could ask for.'

Not to mention it adjusted his priorities. The fact that Stephanie Brown was Chloe's biological mother automatically placed her in a position of importance in his social life. She had alleviated from a mere sex buddy to a co-parent. Even if Stephanie potentially declared she wouldn't want to be a part of Chloe's life, he would always be aware of their relationship. And if Chloe ever wanted to know and get closer to her, well…he wouldn't stop her.

'I was an orphan. I know how it feels to want to know who your family is. You want to know why you were abandoned and why you weren't worth caring for. You just…want answers. '

A human's origin was incredibly vital to their identity whether they recognized it or not. He sighed. To think the Batgirls, Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown, would be the two most important women in his life. Not just sexually but interpersonally too.

Stephanie's story had also moved him. The lack of health care, sex education, and a decent foster care system pissed him off. How the hell had Chloe gone from a totally fine orphanage to being on the streets? Gotham NEEDED to change. Not in twenty years, not in five years, now.

Moreover, though Batman was off his back, he wasn't off the radar, especially because of Chloe. Once a suspect, forever a suspect.

'I should speed things up a bit,' Aaron told himself, resolved. 'I hope Selina did that thing I asked her to do because otherwise I can't act.'

***

"Mmmmmph! Mmph! Ctmhphh! Bbhmm!"

Julia Pennyworth, daughter of the late Alfred Pennyworth, and the Nest for We Are Robin. She was a danger to his operations. He couldn't let her connect the dots. So, he had Catwoman kidnap her and bring her to her apartment. A modest and slightly run-down place in the heart of Gotham City. The faded wallpaper peeled in places, and the floorboards creaked underfoot.

Much to his expectations, cats roamed her home everywhere. They rubbed against his legs and some of them jumped onto his shoulder when he kneeled down to pet them. It was fun. Cute.

However, he knew he couldn't dilly-dally for long. He headed to her room where no cats were allowed. Her private place.

Inside was the alluring Catwoman fitted in her classic leather. The emerald in her eyes flickered as she saw him. In her hands was her whip which wrapped around a certain woman like a Christmas present. Short hair, a tan, and completely nude and gagged, Julia Pennyworth could not move an inch. Catwoman pulled on her whip, tightening the restraints.

"Pipe down, little mouse," Catwoman said, smirking. "I already stripped you. Don't tell me you want me to humiliate you even more? Gotta say, girl, I do like being a dom but not like this."

Julia continued to resist. Her teeth pressed down on the whip shoved into her mouth, brown eyes roaring with vengeance. Alas, it did not nothing. The whip was made of a material too hard and stretchy for a human to break.

"Plus…your master is here," she said, taking off her helmet, revealing her attractive, narrow features. She placed the base of her whip to the wall and it clung like a magnet. Selina Kyle approached Aaron with wide arms and enveloped him in a loving hug. She purred and cuddled against his chest. She kissed his chin and looked up at him wantingly. "Did I do good?"

"Yes, you did," Aaron said. He caressed her cheek. The hypnosis seemed to strengthen. She purred into his touch. "You know what to do."

Her clawed hand cupped his crotch. He could feel the razor sharp nails pick through his pants and scratch his balls. He refused to look weak and remained standing without expression as her hand rotated, groped, fondled, and pawed his manhood. Her leg twisted around his leg, she licked his cheek. As always, her tongue was rough and scratchy, like a real cat's.

"Mm. Yes, yes…" Selina sniffed his neck and maintained her clawed grip on him. The prickles to his balls continued for another two seconds until finally she pulled away. "Of course…"

She lowered herself till she was on her knees. Looking back and meeting Julia's gaze, Selina smirked. Her fingers hovered over the waistline of his pants. "Watch, babe. You're about to see something truly spectacular."

Despite Julia's efforts to communicate, the only audible noise that escaped was a soft, indistinct blend of frustration and determination.

Her fingers hooked, she pulled his pants and boxers down in one fell swoop. Julia's eyes were flabbergasted as she heard the great flop. Flaccid, limp, the term didn't matter. He was at his smallest yet–

"Behold. It's the biggest, fattest, greatest cock in Gotham," Selina declared. She rubbed her cheek against the flaccid slab of meat. Julia gulped audibly and her attempts to escape weakened. The hung penis between his legs was like a focal point of impossible attraction. A black hole sucking away her rational side.

"The Nest," Aaron began, ignoring the way Selina's tongue was rolling up his droopy shaft, "Penny-Two, Tuxedo-One. From what I was told by a reliable source, you're an SAS operative. They say women aren't not accepted in the SAS. You must be quite the capable woman if you were granted an exemption."

Catwoman's fabulous back arched, leather-clad booty sticking out. She continued to nuzzle, smell, and taste the side of his cock, and allowed Julia to see just how it compared to her head. It was mind-boggling that a flaccid penis could be so long. Julia was entranced for a brief moment, the sight so agonisingly hot she could feel a wetness between her legs. It must have been eight, no, nine inches…

Then she snapped out of it and her rage resumed. Aaron sighed and stepped out of his pants. Like a cat on four legs, Selina followed. Aaron came close to her, the tip of his dick nearly slapping her cheek, and kneeled down. Seeing the full length of his ballsack dangling behind caused another stir of hesitation in her.

"You're dripping wet," Aaron stated, smiling. Julia sat, her arms strapped to her legs and her mouth blocked by a gag. He leaned close to her ear. "You want to try it, don't you?"

Shivers. Julia's stiffness dissipated.

"You know you want to. I bet you've been feeling very horny cooped up in your little room. Helping Lucius, helping Batman…you've been such a good girl yet all life has thrown at you are curveballs."

Julia's eyes gleamed in agreement, though she would never admit it. Aaron smiled.

"I'm not a bad guy. I haven't done anything to Selina either. As you can see, she's been wronged too. It's not the Bat Family that's the problem, no, they try their best. It's this city. I know it, you know it. Sometimes…" He licked the shell of her earlobe. He could sense zero resistance in her now. "...we Gothamites deserve a break. Don't we?"

Julia stared up at him. Their gazes met, brown and grey. Grimacing, her head nodded up and down.

"I'm going to untie you now. Honestly, I didn't expect Selina to go this far." Catwoman suddenly popped over his shoulder and rubbed her face against his.

"I did it because she wouldn't listen," Selina said, pouting. Her arms draped over his chest, holding onto him tightly, Aaron chuckled.

"Julia, you can either leave and go back to your dull, ordinary life…or stay and get the best night of your life. The night you deserve. It's totally up to you."

"Mhm, mhm," Selina agreed. "I only dragged you here out of love. It's not a villainous thing, promise. Batman told me you were stressing yourself out. From girl to girl, as a Bat Family operative, I know how it feels and trust me: this guy Aaron over here is your best bet. Just one night." Her index finger flicked towards Julia. "Just one night. That's it."

In a swift and careful motion, Aaron's helping hand reached out and removed the gag that had silenced Julia. The feeling of relief washed over them as their voice regained its freedom. "Thank you," Julia muttered.

With gentle expertise, the same hand moved to untie the part of the whip that bound her arms, loosening the constriction and allowing circulation to flow once again. Because it was one long thread of a whip, the knots around her legs immediately followed suit. The whole thing unravelled slowly and Julia regained their freedom of movement.

For a second, she was frozen and naked. On her knees, gasping for air through her mouth, she stared at the floor. Her gaze climbed up and was met with the sight of his penis.

Julia swallowed down the anxiety in her throat. She stood up and licked her lips.

"Fuck Gotham."

And of her volition, she kissed him. Five-foot-six, she couldn't quite peck him on the lips so he had to lean down. Plus, her arms were forcing his head down. This woman pushed with unbridled aggression. Aaron could handle it. His own hands slipped onto her naked waist.

"Ooh, can I join?" Selina asked, her breasts pressing his back and gently stroking his shaft. Aaron ripped away from Julia and peered over his shoulder and down at Selina.

"Leave, please. I gave you a job, remember? It's not finished."

She pouted but obeyed. She skipped past the two of them, grabbed her whip, and leapt to the open window. "I hope you have fun…" Selina waved a little hand before diving backwards.

"What was that?" the tanned woman clinging to him asked.

"Don't worry about it, Julia." He smiled down at her and ruffled her short, black hair. Her craving for intimacy must have been incredibly high because she uttered a low moan of content. "How long has it been?" Aaron asked quietly.

"Fifteen years…" Aaron was taken aback by her response. That long? Her breathing accelerated as Julia elaborated, "Not since before I joined the SRR. Even then, it was a one night stand with a guy I don't remember. I did it just because I was about to join the military and–"

"Shush." He silenced her with a kiss. "Don't worry. I know. I know everything." He didn't. However, seeing her light up and soften, he was on the right track. "I know what happened to your father. I know it's been hard for you. Don't worry…I'll take care of you tonight."

"Ha…if you weren't carrying that weapon between your legs, I would have kicked you in the balls."

"Oh, feisty. Let's see you keep your bravado."

He dragged to the bed, kissing and groping all the way. He remained above her, the dominator in the interaction, and locked her arms above her. Julia smirked. Aaron gazed upon her flawless form. No scars, no wounds…

"You must have been quite the operative," Aaron reiterated, "I can't wait to see if your skills translate."

"Oh, they will," she said, rubbing her knee up and down his hanging shaft. Touching her navel, its heat caused her to flush and dampen. "They will…"

His fingers went down to her slit, tickling her folds and clit. She pretended not to be affected but Aaron was too skilled. He could see what affected her and what didn't. In her case, it was her outer folds. It was like she bit down a moan when his two fingers lapped around them in parallel.

Up, down, left, right, he traced their shape, smirking as she avoided his gaze and covered her mouth. Eventually, he heard music. A moan. He went faster. He flicked his two fingers inside and made circles, touching the corners of her cunt.

This time, Julia reacted with a strong moan. Aaron laughed to himself. It was so, so easy for him. Where it would take an ordinary man time to find a woman's weaknesses, it took him less than a second.

Her nipples were brown, small, and perky, and he decided to suck on them to throw fire onto the intensity. There was a stronger reaction, a louder moan.

"Y-you…you're fucking…amazing…!" Julia gasped out. She tried pushing him but his tongue swished around her tits like an animal and he was just too strong. She condemned herself to pleasure from her nether regions and her tits, and it was just…

"Fuck! Fucking hell!"

…too much. The pressure was building in her ovaries. It was like she wanted to get bred as fast as possible. His nice, flexible fingers explored her in all the right ways. Ways that she as a woman had never considered. Never ventured. The cool wetness on her chest was a foreign feeling too. Nobody paid her breasts any attention as they were unremarkable B-cups.

"Don't come just yet," Aaron said, drawing away from her. "You're my little mouse today. I'm going to show a much larger world."

While she lay flat on the bed, Aaron stood on his knees and looked down on her. From his thigh, his cock stirred. Anticipation filled the air and the SRR operative watched as it began to pump and rise. Heaving itself from his thigh, rising and rising, thickening and thickening, pulsating with veins…

"W-wow. Unbelievable."

His titanic size could not be missed, especially as it casted a shadow over her stomach. She gulped as he lowered himself and slapped the giant hunk of meat on her abdomen. "God…I thought my core was strong." In the face of his long, hard cock, it didn't seem that way. All of a sudden, she wished she had done several hundred more push-ups. Maybe then she would be capable of taking this gorgeous monstrosity…

"I've seen some penises in my time but that…" Julia huffed and puffed. "Nothing half of your size. Jesus Christ."

"Not Jesus. Me."

He lined himself up and noted just how wet and tiny her cunt was. "How old are you again?" he asked, right before he started penetration. He teased her by massaging her labia with his glans.

Moaning, she replied hastily, "T-thirty-eight…"

"So you haven't had dick since you were twenty-three? Tsk, tsk, tsk." He throbbed. Julia could feel the excess heat rub against her entrance. Never in her life did she think she would feel so small. After proving herself time and time again, she never thought she would have to build her confidence up.

She was wrong. So, so wrong. This dick was beyond her wildest imagination.

When he entered her, Julia Pennyworth thought she might as well have never gone to military training because this sturdy phallus…

"F-fuuuuuck~!"

…was the greatest thing she had ever felt, bar none. It was like the sorrow from her father's death, her agitation at being treated as a lower-class person during the military, all of it was wiped away. None of it mattered as this big ass dick stretched her apart.

Aaron didn't need to be gentle with her, after all. She was a top-of-the-line military operative. Like Stephanie, like Cassandra, she could handle his girth. And she did. Julia took it like a champ.

Julia wiggled and moaned but she didn't want it to stop. "Keep going! Keep going! Harder! Harder! Deeper! Deeeper~! God! You're so deep inside me! I can't even believe it!"

Inch by inch, he inserted himself inside. Inch by inch, he brought her bliss. Halfway in, she panting like a dog. Her legs spasmed towards the ceiling and he grabbed them. Ankles locked in, he licked her feet. He had done it a few times with Cassandra. It wasn't really to his liking but he could tell Julia relished in it, shivering like a vulnerable woman in a blizzard.

"W-what the fuck are you–"

Another inch from Aaron, another moan from Julia. It was a simple exchange. Her folds were warm and tight and he couldn't wait to find out how deep he could go. Once he was done teasing her foot, he went back to easing himself in.

"Haa….ha….mmm…." Julia seemed like she was hyperventilating. Each inch counted towards a deepness she had never felt before. It was like she was losing her virginity all over again. In fact, she might as well consider today to be the day she really lost it. The one night stand of fifteen years past was so far from her mind, so meaningless in the grand scheme of her life, that it didn't feel special or exhilarating.

"Oooh, fuck, fuck, fuck! You're nice and fucking deep! Keep going, keep going!"

This did. This felt like the ceremony she had been aching for. The heat, the wetness between her legs, it was finally being filled.

After the whole debacle with Zatanna, from her titties, stockings, and leotard to her participation in Batman's plan, Aaron needed something to bring him back to speed. A nice, tight cunt did the trick. His hips flicked back and forth with the cadence of a hobby. It was as though he were having fun with a hobby. Sighing, smiling, fucking, thrusting…

"You're so! Fucking! Amazing! You're godlike! Fuck! Fucking hell!" Julia exerted her pleasure in yells and shouts. Different but just as arousing. She also didn't hold back when it came to facial expressions. Her tongue was sticking out and her pupils spun round and round.

"Do you want it inside?" Aaron asked, casually on the cusp of orgasm. Julia's eyes trembled and she inhaled and exhaled loudly before responding.

"Y-yes! Yes! You big dicked stud! Just fucking creampie me! Fuuuck! Nut in my tight virgin pussy!"

She didn't mince words. He liked her. Smiling, he decided to swoop her up to his chest, stand up, and walk to the window. Her back latched on to him, nails digging into his back. He didn't feel the pain but he could hear as his own balls slapped his thighs. The window was still open from Catwoman's exit and they could hear the buzz of the city night. Conversations, police sirens, and even the iconic Bat Signal in the sky. Her legs tightly wound around his waist, breasts to his chest, their lips kissing and making out for a while before pulling back.

"Fuck…you're just…fuck…" Julia had no words besides wonder and amazement. Staring into his eyes, it was like she was seeing the stars of a heavenly realm. All of a sudden, she moaned and her back arched as she experienced a resounding, body-wide climax. When she recovered, she saw those very same eyes again and felt the subtle throbbing of his cock inside her.

He was so fucking deep inside her. Julia felt spiritually connected to him, like her problems would go away if she depended on this male.

"Are you ready?" Holding her weight up by a tight grip on her ass cheeks, unmoving, he waited for her answer. Her hot breath panted needily on his ear. He already understood her answer. He just wanted to hear it again.

"Y-yes! Yes! Right in front of the entire fucking city! Creampie my sorry pussy!"

So he did. His balls clenched and released their contents. She threw her head back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! That's it, that's the way! I want to get BRED! Breed me you fucking donkey dick stud! Fuuuuck!"

Her insides were assaulted with a barrage of sperm it had never experienced before. It must have been more than a litre because she could feel it fill her womb from the bottom-up. Her ovaries reacted wildly. Her orgasms rocked her mind and soul and her legs went from tightly enveloping Aaron's waist to loosening. If it wasn't for his robust shaft and his strong grip, she would have fallen. They stayed there for minutes, gushing out a mean load inside her. Spurt, spurt, spurt. Pump, pump, pump. It was never ending. Strings of white slipped onto his ballsack, the copious, thick liquid clinging on to the sack. Julia Pennyworth's inexperienced cunt couldn't contain it.

Once he was finished, the two of them let out a sigh. "I told you, didn't I? It would be the best night of your life."

Julia mumbled, "Mm…yeah…"

He laid her back on the bed, watching as the cum spilled out of her like a broken dam. The tip of his schlong was coated in white. He sat on the edge of his bed while waiting for her to recover. Legs and arms spread, he assumed it would take a while. He quickly went soft. His dong didn't dangle for long as he felt the body beside him shift. He blinked and watched as it moved.

"So you want more?" Aaron asked, smirking. She wound up on the floor and between his legs, a hand gripping his wet shaft. She smirked up at him. An abundant amount of cum was still surging out of her pussy but she didn't care. Even as she shivered and trembled, she stroked him.

"You blow my mind…hah…" Julia started to use her other hand. "...I try to blow yours…"

"Good luck," Aaron said, heartfelt in his words. "I'm sure with experience, you might."

His sincerity must have thrown her off because otherwise she wouldn't have stammered. "T-thanks?" Her ears turned red and she refocused her efforts. Seeing her look at his limp cock with such determination, such thrill, somehow satisfied him.

The game of cat and mouse might have been over but…it wouldn't be right of him to deny his urges. Today, he had added Iman Avesta and Julia Pennyworth to his little harem. They weren't just whores either, they were strong, independent women with skills, money, and authority.

'I should probably bring the group together and tell them of my plans for a better Gotham. Plus, there's the matter of Angel Breaker and her League of Assassins. Hopefully Selina comes back with some useful information.'

The League of Assassins and the League of Shadows–the former led by the al Ghuls and Angel Breaker, the latter led by Lady Shiva. He had been conflicted over whether to do it or not but…seeing the current state of Gotham, he had no choice. He needed to take the reins. He needed to forcibly change the bureaucracy of the city from the shadows. The concept of charity being a tax haven for the rich needed to disappear.

Aaron Reigner was going to change Gotham.

…and maybe get a group blowjob while he was at it.