It was a hot, humid night in Gotham City. And all the body armor was only making that heat even more uncomfortable. But Bruce powered through it, as he always did, because the innocent citizens of Gotham needed him. As billionaire philanthropist Bruce Wayne, he could do a little about the heat wave by throwing around some money to get people shelter and air conditioning and plenty of clean water. But the crime wave that had also been taking place lately needed Batman to deal with it.
There were three criminals he'd been especially eager to keep tabs on lately. In the middle of this sweltering heat, they'd joined forces to pursue their individual agendas. The philanthropist in Bruce even sympathized with their causes. But their methods were far too extreme and their combined force was far too volatile. The alliance of Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and Catwoman, known collectively as the Gotham City Sirens, would do more harm than good unless he held them in check.
And he'd finally been able to locate the hideout the unholy trio was sharing.
They were assembled in the space they'd made in to an actually pretty comfortable looking living room, sharing a rather worn looking couch and watching TV. Harlene Quinzel, PhD, a.k.a. Harley Quinn, and Selena Kyle, a.k.a. Catwoman, weren't dressed for the weather any more than Bruce was, both clad in tight leather. Harley was wearing her too-tight black & red leather corset, leggings, knee-high boots, fingerless gloves, and choker. Bruce could practically see the thick beads of perspiration leaving streaks in her heavy make-up and running down her soft cleavage and tightly toned tummy. She was twirling the ends of her blonde pigtails, the tip of the left handlebar dyed red and the tip of the right handlebar dyed navy blue.
Bruce knew Selena hid light armor in her black leather catsuit. She currently had her cat-eared hood pulled back and her red-lensed goggles resting across her forehead, showing off her raven-haired pixie cut. She had her catsuit zipped down to her naval, exposing most of her breasts. It didn't take the World's Greatest Detective to realize she wasn't wearing a bra underneath. The real mystery was how her love mounds didn't pop out completely as she yawned and arched her back out and stretched.
Pamela Isley, a.k.a. Poison Ivy, looked relatively cool at least. She was tending to the potted plant by the sofa in bare feet and a very thin, breezy red button-up shirt. Only the center button was done up, barely keeping her bountiful breasts covered while displaying her soft neck and gorgeous belly. The red shirt really brought out the red of her plush lips and long, wild red hair. The leaves and vines that ran all up and down her pale green skin thickened at her waist into bikini briefs to cover her lady bits, and Bruce couldn't help but wonder if that was by nature or by design.
As cozy as Harley, Ivy, and Selena all looked, like three girlfriends having a night in, even with the elaborate and impractical costumes they wore, the Dark Knight knew they were just as lethal as they were lovely and that he would need to stay on his guard.
But as cautious as Batman was, these three femme fatales were still about to turn the tables on him . . .
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