Alfred was up in the kitchen, the twenty most trusted
members of the GCPD were patrolling the manor grounds while Bruce, Dick,
Barbara, Cassandra, Tim, Stephanie, and Damian were in the Batcave below the
manor… all because of the royal guests on the second floor.
“Still can’t believe that it was less than a day from
Casta showing up and some creepy trying to kidnap her,” Stephanie muttered in
as she pulled a Gotham Knights hockey jersey over her batsuit.
“In this town,” Barbara walked over and put a hand on
Stephanie’s shoulder, “The fact that it took four hours for the Penguin to try
and kidnap a queen is pretty slow by our normal horrible standards…”
“He might retire soon if he is that slow,” Dick said as
he hung upside down from the gymnastics rings.
There was a pause. Bruce didn’t look up from the case
notes he was reviewing.
“Cassandra,” Bruce pronounced, “No one can hear you if
you sign, you have to speak up to be heard… And shrugging doesn’t work either.”
“Is it safe to have witches in home?” Cassandra said
watching the monitors hidden in the suite of rooms housing Castaspella and her
understudy Ariel.
“They have been less trouble than the last time Talia was
in town,” Dick sniped.
“Hay Damien,” Tim Shouted, “Truth dart coming in.”
“I hate you Drake,” Damien sneered.
“Well I sort of agree with Cass,” Barbara lowered herself
into an office chair and then kicked the floor sending it spinning around, “Less
about hocus-pocus and more along the lines of the attention on Wayne Manor
right now, the cops, the government, the media…”
“I’m just creeped out by the who Stockholm syndrome thing
they have going towards Batman and Bruce Wayne.
It’s like you pinned an amazon and now she has to be your wife there
Brucie,” Stephanie teased.
“Not how that works,” Bruce said without looking away
from the case notes, “Besides, they are hardly the first ladies to want to take
over Wayne Manor as the ‘new Mrs. Wayne,’ nor will they be the last.”
“Father,” Damian spoke up, “I fear we are overlooking a
real problem…”
“No Damian,” Bruce responded, “I am well aware that The
Joker is unaccounted for and could return at any time. Harley is sure that he is still alive as well
so she will try to keep him alive in the fears of the people of Gotham.”
“Ah,” Steph said as she walked over towards a meditation
alcove, “Ah Bruce, boss, why is there a skull in here? And more importantly, why is it glowing?”
“That skull is one of thirteen magical seals put in place
to protect this house from curses and spiteful magic,” Bruce kept reading.
“Cool,” Stephanie asked, “Who put it in place? Your
grandfather? Great great grandmother?”
“Zantanna and Constantine,” Bruce responded.
“John Constantine and Zantanna Zatara?” Damian asked.
“Yeah,” Dick chimed in, “Think about how many
supernatural and other magical fuck heads we piss off on a daily basis.”
“Do your gloves itch?” Bruce asked.
“No,” Steph answered.
“Then you aren’t the target,” Barbara giggled as she spun
her chair some more, “We pissed off Gentleman Ghost a while back and after that
every Batsuit has had protection from magic built in…”
“Dad seriously underestimates how OCD prepared Batman is
for anything,” Steph said.
“For the good of the world,” Tim smiled, “Don’t clue him
in.”
“Are you kidding? I live to spoil his fun!” Step started
before being cut off with a kiss by Tim.
“Speaking of spoiled,” Dick asked, “What about the
prisoners of war we captured from the castle?
How are they handling their four star resorts?”
“My guess was that they were expecting to be executed or
put into slave labor camps,” Barbara chimed in, “As is, they are playing games
with the security people watching over them.
Nothing to serious… What is the word from Ivy Town? Any word on a mission to bring the Ivy Town
people back?”
“Constantine is working with Mr. Terrific to come up with
something…” Bruce stated, “Atom and Giganta are keeping the rebels there in
line… so far they are playing nicely.”
“What about this Adora?” Dick asked, “Will we have her
over for dinner?”
“Working on it. So
far ‘security concerns’ are sufficient to stall them,” Bruce said.
“Ahh,” Cass spoke up, “Witches done?”
“What?” Tim asked.
Barbara, Tim and Steph went over to have a look at the
monitors. The pair of redheads in the
sitting room looked like loony tunes cartoon characters when a bomb exploded in
front of them. Steph looked back at the
skull in the meditation alcove.
“I guess their spell back fired,” Steph shrugged.
“What do you think the spell was?” Tim asked.
*
“Bruce…” Castaspella murmured, “Bruce…”
“Mmmmm,” Ariel moaned, “Master Brucie…”
“King Bruce,” Castaspella moaned, “How do we please King
Bruce?”
“We must be perfect lovers for Master Brucie,” Ariel
continued in her daze.
“A perfect queen for the Dark Lord…” Castaspella moaned
in her trance like state.
*
“Well whatever they were up to, it is over for now,” Tim
said, “They defiantly have Stockholm Syndrome going…”
“Maybe they were trying to cast a love spell on Brucie,”
Barbara teased.
“Any feelings towards the lovely ladies?” Stephanie
asked.
“Announce,” Bruce said.
“Like towards the bat bimbos?” Damian gave a dark grin.
“Hay,” Barbara said, “Looks like they are checking the
internet on the tablet they ‘borrowed’ from Alfred.”
“What are they looking up?” Cassandra asked.
“They are looking up Batman’s dates…” Barbara said, “Wow
this is escalating… Catwoman and Talia… latex catsuits, latex lingerie… little
black dresses in rubber… Heads up Bruce, stock latex safe lube by the 55-gallon
drum.”
Bruce leaned back and rubbed his face with his palm. He groaned and then turned back towards the
snooping batgirls.
“What are they doing now?” Bruce ask.
“Well Student is going to masturbate in bathroom,” Cass
said, “Queen is casting spell.”
“What is she casting?” Steph asked.
“Spell on herself…” Cass intoned.
“Can you make yourself a fetishist with magic?” Dick
asked.
“How should I know?” Bruce asked.
“Bruce doesn’t know something?”
“There is plenty I don’t know,” Bruce said, “But I know
enough to know when I don’t know and who to ask for the missing information.”
“So who do we ask?” Damian asked.
Bruce picked up a phone.
“Hello, Zantanna?”