“Damn,” the colorfully garbed crimefighter said under his breath as he spotted a solitary figure walking along the edge of Kane Reservoir. “How is it that no matter how hard you try to get the message out, there’s always someone who doesn’t get it? Or worse, just assumes that it applies to everyone but them?”

The message, in this case, was that there was a homicidal maniac running loose on the streets of Gotham. Or more specifically, the woods of Middletown Park and that it wasn’t safe to be out alone there after dark. Not only was it well after dark, to the tune of an hour after midnight, but the young woman in the scope of his binoculars was about as alone and oblivious to her surroundings as she could be.

“She’s actually wearing a Walkman,” the hero in red, green and golden yellow said as he adjusted his focus. “How stupid can one person be?”

This was the third night a small army of police had spent patrolling the hundred and fifty-year-old park, certain that the killer would try and strike again before the passing of the new moon. Three young women had died during the last such phase, two more under this one, the last being an undercover police officer. With eight hundred and forty-three acres of park land in the urban oasis, it was impossible to check behind every tree and rock. The best they could do was seal off the park and hope that one of the legion in blue might get lucky.

Including the hero in the search for this lunatic wasn’t something that Harvey Bullock, the detective heading the task force, had been enthusiastic about. In the end, however, he’d been overruled by the Commissioner’s office. The loss of his decoy officer the night before hit him hard. The last thing he wanted to deal with was some glory-grabbing vigilante. Officer Ricardo had only been out of the sight of her partner for a few moments, but that short span had been enough for the butcher to turn a beautiful, vibrant young woman into a mass of bloody meat that caused even the most veteran officer to become ill.

“How can Bullock expect to find this madman if he can’t even keep people out of the area?” the dark haired adventurer pondered as he realized that he’d have to give up his surveillance and get that girl out of here for her own safety.

As Robin lowered his high-powered night glasses, his well-disciplined mind automatically filed away all the details he’d noticed during his brief observation. She was quite pretty, he thought, bordering on being a natural beauty.

She was about his height, five nine or ten, and somewhere in the vicinity of a hundred and twenty pounds. A well-developed athletic build made him suspect she played sports or spent part of her week at the gym. He also couldn’t help but note that she was also quite braless. Long black hair stretched down her back, reaching past a tight fitting yellow blouse to a blue skirt shorter than most women would have the nerve to wear.

“Nice legs,” he added to his evaluation as he dropped his lenses back into his utility belt and reached for the silken cord he had previously positioned to facilitate a quick exit from his perch. “Why can’t I meet a girl like that when I’m not wearing the mask?”

Leaping into the night air, he heard the voice of his absent mentor reminding him that this was hardly the time to be worrying about his social life. Or the fact that the mask, and the life that went with it, were usually a major impediment in that direction. Still, there had been a few times when the reverse had also been true. The memories of those times couldn’t help but flash through his mind for the few seconds it took for him to drop to the ground.

Images which, pleasant as they might have been, instantly faded as his feet hit the ground and his thoughts returned to the task at hand. A task that, in a further blink of an eye, shifted from mere annoyance to abject horror.

“Oh God, no!” the nineteen-year-old gasped as he saw a tall, shadowy form appear, seemingly out of nowhere, less than thirty feet behind the girl. A figure that he would bet all that he owned had not been there two seconds before. That determination became academic as mask-covered eyes spotted a large knife sparkling in the moonlight.

Robin’s heart pounded as he surged forward, running as fast as his well-developed legs could carry him. Automatically he calculated his rate of advancement against the shrinking distance between the girl and the knife. Even before he was halfway there, he already knew the race was one he couldn’t win.

“Stop!” Robin yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping that the outburst might gain him the few precious seconds he needed.

The dark killer didn’t even pause. The sounds of music in her headphones, audible even at this distance, made his intended victim ignorant of death’s approach behind her. Unaware, that was, until a massive hand grabbed her shoulder and spun the dark haired woman around. A look of surprise, then terror filled her face as she recognized the grim reaper in the form of a razor-edged blade reaching for her.

“No!!!” Robin screamed as he helplessly watched the knife slash across her chest, ripping apart her blouse and the flesh beneath it.

She was still falling to the ground when Robin slammed into her killer, bringing to bear all the power of his muscled hundred and seventy-five pound form. An impact that had absolutely no effect on the still shadow-shrouded figure, except to cause him to casually swing his empty hand outward with such force as to knock the Teen Wonder ten feet back. Robin’s body hit the ground hard, the impact almost enough to knock him out. Only a determined strength of will and the certainty that, if he lost consciousness now, he would never regain it, kept him going.

Dismissing the battered hero, the killer turned his attention back to his grisly task. Ignoring the ringing in his head, Robin forced himself to his feet, drawing a batarang and a handful of glass pellets from his belt as he moved. There was still a chance that he could save the girl if he could get her to medical attention. A slim chance, but one he had to take no matter the risk.

“This guy can’t be human,” Robin thought as he again rushed forward to the attack. It was a theory that he’d considered several times in the last few hours as he waited, keeping in mind that the police had failed to track the murderer down, despite their overwhelming numerical superiority.

With the certain knowledge that he himself might be dead in a minute, Robin reached back to let loose with the mixture of gas and explosive projectiles in his hand. Halfway into the throw, the impossible happened. A sequence of events so unexpected, that for the first time since he’d put on the mask, the hero totally froze.

If the man who’d tossed him like a rag doll wasn’t human, then that assessment had to now also apply to his intended victim. It was the killer’s turn to exhibit a visage of fear as, rather than having her life’s blood spilling out on the dirt covered ground, the dark haired girl leapt to her feet and grabbed her attacker by the throat. Her movements flowed with a speed almost too fast to be seen.

Then, in a further display of vitality and strength, she lifted him off the ground and held him, one handed, high in the air. A sight so unbelievable as to cause the crimefighter to be totally oblivious to the display of bare breasts that had been exposed by the slash of the knife now lying on the grass. At least not beyond the fact that while her blouse might be ripped clear across, the supple flesh beneath it was totally unmarked.

“Please ... don’t ... hurt ... me...” the now not-so invincible slasher gasped in slow, pain filled words.

“Don’t hurt you?” the girl said in disbelief as she flexed the fingers of her hand, applying just a little more pressure to her grip. “You butchered all of those poor girls and you have the nerve to ask for mercy? If justice had any meaning, I’d rip your head off right now and save the mockery of a trial.”

That argument, was one that Robin remembered having with his mentor many times over the years. If there was one thing Batman was passionate about above all else, it was his personal concept of justice. The law, or what those in high-priced suits said was the law these days, was sometimes a secondary consideration. Still, in all the years since Bruce Wayne had put on cape and cowl, he had never gone over the line and taken a human, or inhuman, life. Not even in those cases where it could easily have been argued society as a whole would be much better off if he had. Robin had followed that belief, but found himself wondering if he had just met someone who didn’t.

“But, my cousin constantly tells me that it’s not my place to play judge, jury and executioner, no matter the temptation,” she said as she relaxed her grip and let him fall, gasping onto the dirt.

Taking a few steps closer, Robin now got his first good look at the New Moon Slasher, as the newspapers had christened him. He was almost so totally ordinary as to be improbable as the man who’d put an entire city on the edge of fear. That he was a meta-human was pretty much a certainty, but whatever drove him to use his paranormal abilities to kill was something for the psychologists to figure out.

“I’m not sure these will hold him,” Robin said as he produced a pair of cuffs from his utility belt, remembering the strength of the blow that had almost laid him low.

Without saying a word, the tall young woman glanced around the area and spotted a small pile of building supplies. Stepping over to them, she returned with a thin metal pole about six feet long. To Robin’s amazement, but no longer his disbelief, she snapped it in two and twisted one piece into a set of restraints about the Slasher’s wrists, and then the other around his ankles. He wasn’t going anywhere.

The sound of fast approaching sirens broke the stillness of the night, reminding Robin that he had hit the emergency button on his belt radio, sending a signal to the task force when he had first spotted the killer. The GCPD would be here in another minute or two to take him into custody. Be it to jail or a mental hospital was something for the law to decide.

“You might want to change,” Robin suggested as, with a noncommittal look, he referred to the current state of her blouse. “If you don’t have something else to put on, I’d be glad to lend you my cape.”

“Thank you,” she replied, with a smile that seemed to light up the dark night, “but I have something else to change into.”

Picking up the small knapsack she had dropped when the slasher had grabbed her, the dark haired woman stepped over to the tool shed where she had gotten the metal pole and disappeared behind it. The thought that she was now totally nude occupied Robin’s attention for the next minute until a trio of police cars pulled up behind him.

“Congratulations, Robin,” Harvey Bullock said as his men quickly lifted up their suspect and ushered him off to a waiting police wagon. “I’m going to be totally honest and say I never imagined you had a chance in hell of actually getting him.”

“I’m sorry to say,” the teenager said to the portly, unshaven detective, “that I’m not the one that got him. It seems that I wasn’t the only one with an interest in this case.”

“Then who... ?” the Detective started to ask.

“Someone a lot stronger than me,” the Teen Wonder interrupted. “Unless you think I’ve suddenly taken to bending steel bars in my bare hands,” he added in reference to the improvised restraints on their killer.

Before the perplexed Detective could ask a further question, the subject of their discussion reappeared from behind the tool shed. Her appearance answered all of their questions, and Robin felt like an ass for not realizing it before.

Long straight blonde hair now replaced the black, flowing across a bright red cape. A tight form fitting blue top replaced that tattered yellow that she had gone to replace, along with a red skirt and matching red boots. Resting across the breasts that Robin had gotten a quick look at earlier, sat an irregular red and yellow pentagon with a stylized “S” in it.

“Supergirl!” both men said almost in unison.

“I think you’ll need this, officer,” the Girl of Steel said as she carefully picked up the murder’s weapon from where it had fallen in the grass and handed it to the officer.

“Thank you,” he replied as he just as carefully produced an evidence bag and dropped the knife in it.

“I’m only sorry that I hadn’t heard about this before this morning,” Supergirl said, belittling the Mayor’s Office’s initial reluctance to publicize a possible serial killer. “All of those girls that he killed.”

“Well, we ... err...” Bullock replied, knowing that he had nothing with which to respond, especially since he hadn’t agreed with the political decision either.

“I guess I’d better get going then,” Supergirl said, knowing that if she stayed she might very well say something not quite consistent with the public image that her cousin, Superman, had worked to create for her.

“We’re going to need some kind of report downtown,” the Detective said, falling back on proper police procedure to hide his discomfort. “For when they bring him before the judge in the morning.”

Supergirl gave him a hard look, one that Robin recognized as asking, did he actually think this murdering bastard was ever even going to come to trial?

“I’ll take care of that,” Robin said, thinking that he was certainly more used to filling out forms than someone who regularly changed the course of mighty rivers, as the old saying went.

“Well then,” Bullock concluded, “I’ll meet you back at headquarters.” he said to Robin, after which Bullock expressed how honored he was to meet Supergirl.

Both costumed heroes waited until Bullock got in his car and drove away before saying anything. Robin took the time to really take a good look at Supergirl, and would’ve been astonished to know that she was doing the same.

If he had thought she was good looking as a brunette, his conclusion jumped to absolutely stunning as a blonde. A body that would seem more suited for a gymnast or runner concealed the fact that she could juggle two-ton boulders. Looking back at him were the deepest blue eyes he had ever imagined. Despite the circle of larger than life figures with whom he sometimes had the opportunity to travel, Robin suddenly felt like a high school nerd trying to impress the head cheerleader.

Supergirl took a moment to take in the young man who had rushed to her aid. Lacking her own invulnerability, she thought, that took real courage, especially after having been tossed for a loop by the meta-human strength of the slasher. The Maid of Might couldn’t help but be impressed. He was a few years younger than her, and pretty cute, she decided, behind that mask. Not a bad body either, she added, even if the yellow cape, red tunic and green undershirt, briefs and boots seemed more suited for a young teenager than a full grown man.

“I hope you didn’t get hurt when he hit you?” Supergirl asked, her concern genuine.

“Nah, just a few bumps and bruises,” Robin said as he tried to smile. “It takes more than a little knock on the head to put me out.”

“Well, no concussion at least,” Supergirl said a moment later as a strange look filled her eyes.

“What?” Robin replied, having seen the distant stare, then realized, “Oh yeah, X-ray vision.”

“That took real courage,” the Girl of Steel complimented, “If I didn’t have my powers, I don’t know if I could do something like that.”

“But you’re Supergirl, you save the world.”

“Sometimes, saving the world isn’t as important as saving a single life,” Supergirl said.

The realization that the moment was past and it was time to say goodbye gave Robin a sudden courage of another kind. Before Supergirl could leave, he asked her one more thing.

“You think that maybe, if you find yourself on this side of the country again, we might go for coffee or something?” he asked, feeling he sounded like an idiot the moment he’d let the words out.

Supergirl paused for a moment, then said, “Sure, why not.”

With that, she lifted herself into the air, pivoting as she rose until she was hovering a few dozen feet above the Teen Wonder.

“By the way, nice legs.” She smiled before again turning in mid-air and speeding off into the distance.

Watching her fade away in the darkness, Robin realized that it hadn’t been his legs that had such a strong, visible reaction to the Kryptonian. A reaction that, even partially concealed by the protective cup in his shorts, was one that she couldn’t have helped take notice of. Thankfully it hadn’t been the one she commented on.

Even so, it was a good half-hour before his motorcycle followed the road back out to the city streets.

“Eat lead and die, Bird Boy!” Boss Tripper, the leader of the car theft ring called out as he opened fire with his machine pistol, sending a stream of deadly projectiles across the chop shop.

With reflexes well befitting the son of the Flying Graysons, Robin dropped to the floor, out of harm’s way. Two of the shooter’s henchmen weren’t so lucky, however, and went down in the hail of bullets. Loyalty among thieves was indeed a fallacy.

“And how did you spend the summer vacation, Dick?” the Teen Wonder imagined one of his classmates asking upon his return to the Hudson U campus come the Fall, even as he took advantage of the ring leader’s lack of fire discipline and bolted for better cover while Tripper changed the gun’s now empty magazine.

School was indeed out for the summer, and while many of his classmates imagined the ward of a billionaire traveling the world on his vacation, Dick Grayson had instead returned to the streets of Gotham to assist Batman in the never-ending fight to keep those streets safe. And that included detouring from his trip to Police HQ to the sounds of gunshots, to find another police raid in progress. A raid he had decided to lend a hand to as well.

Robin reached the safety of a steel column just as Boss Tripper opened fire again. Bullets ricocheted all about him as he reached into his utility belt for a small but powerful smoke pellet to cover his next move. The glass capsule exploded into a dozen pieces against the car Tripper was using as cover, filling the air with a dense cloud of darkness.

Following the layout of the garage he had already memorized with a glance, Robin raced toward Tripper. He leapt up onto the hood of another car and bounded up into the air, grabbing an overhanging chain-link winch. From there it was an easy swing up on to the second floor railing that led to the gang leader’s office and observation post.

The cloud of smoke quickly dissipated, and Tripper strained his eyes trying to spot the Teen Wonder through it. He followed his gaze with an outstretched gun hand, his finger resting on the trigger in case he should spot the yellow caped hero. A flapping motion of yellow cloth to his right caught his attention and he pulled the trigger, sending an arc of rapid death in that direction.

The burst of gunfire echoed off the walls, until it faded away to be replaced with silence. The last vestiges of smoke also dissolved, giving him a good look at what he’d hit. Weapon still in hand, Tripper stepped out into the open.

“What the fu...” he started to say when he realized that the brightly colored cape draped across the boxes of auto parts was empty.

It was a thought he never had the chance to finish as a now capeless Robin dropped down from the overhead railing behind him. Without the advantage of the automatic weapon, the outcome was a forgone conclusion. The overweight, middle-aged crime boss was bat-cuffed and on his knees when the GCPD, which had been pinned down at the front of the building, caught up to him a few minutes later.

“I heard about bagging the Slasher over in the park, great work,” Detective Renee Montoya, clad in a black sweater and jeans, said to Robin as she stepped from out of the small crowd of uniformed officers. “First that, and now Boss Tripper. What are you trying to do, clean up the city before your partner gets back from the Police Conference in New York?”

“Just keeping busy,” Robin grinned as he reattached his cape.

“Busy he says,” the dark haired Hispanic woman laughed as she looked again at the young adventurer.

A look that Robin shared as he smiled back at the beautiful woman. Almost ten years older than he was, she was in just as good shape. Better, he mentally corrected himself, when you took in all the curves in the right places.

“Feel like a cup of coffee?” Robin asked as they reached her unmarked car.

The brown eyed Detective had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t just coffee that the Teen Wonder was looking for. She’d seen the expression in his eyes too many times to mistake it for anything else. Renee couldn’t have felt more complimented if it had been Batman himself who had asked the question. But even if it had been the Caped Crusader, the answer would’ve been the same.

“I’m sorry, but I have somewhere I need to be in a little while,” she lied, figuring it was an ambiguous enough reply as not to elicit further comment.

“Okay,” Robin shrugged, thinking at least he tried.

“I could probably use that cup of coffee,” another female voice said, seemingly out of the thin air.

Renee reacted on reflex, her hand darting to the .44 magnum she wore in a vest holster. Her eyes darted right and left, seeing no one who could’ve said those words.

Robin on the other hand, just lifted his eyes upward into the early morning sky. He had immediately recognized the voice, having heard it only a few hours before.

A red caped form set down in front of the two Gothamites, bringing a broad smile to Robin and a gasp from Renee. Supergirl smiled back at the two of them, used to both reactions from people.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” the Maid of Might asked, having heard their conversation as she flew overhead.

“No, we were just wrapping things up here,” Robin quickly answered, almost totally forgetting the police officer standing next to him.

Renee knew she should’ve felt insulted, but couldn’t fault the dark haired teen. Not much younger than she was, the blonde haired heroine had to be the most impressive woman she had ever seen in her life. What she wouldn’t have given for the Girl of Steel to look at her the way she was now looking at the Teen Wonder.

“Detective, I was supposed to meet Bullock downtown to fill out a report,” Robin said as he remembered Montoya was there.

“So now it’s Detective,” Renee wanted to laugh, but instead simply said. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks.”

“If you want to take your bike, I’ll just follow you from the air,” Supergirl said.

“Okay,” Robin agreed, the look on his face suggesting that he would’ve followed any suggestion she made right now. “I’ll try not to go too fast so I don’t lose you.”

The ‘are you kidding’ look that Supergirl gave him made him feel a little stupid. Like a girl who could count the craters on the moon was going to lose him in a little late night traffic.

Hopping onto the high-powered cycle, Robin gunned the engine to life and roared down the street, leaving the two women behind. It suddenly occurred to him that, dressed as they were, where was he going to take Supergirl for coffee?

“It was nice meeting you, Detective,” Supergirl said to Montoya as she extended her hand, the warmth and softness of which caused the hardened police officer to feel weak in her knees as well as moist between her legs.

The brief press of flesh ended much too soon, and with a casual wave, Supergirl again took flight. This time, she didn’t look back.

“Madre Dios,” Renee whispered as she watched the blonde beauty disappear in the distance, “eso es una mujer.”

Already almost a half dozen blocks away, the Girl of Steel smiled as her super-sensitive hearing caught the Detective’s remark. Renne Montoya hadn’t been the only one who’d been impressed, she thought as she recalled the fragrance of the Hispanic woman’s natural perfume. But that, the Kryptonian mused, was a thought for another night.

After riding down a mile of empty streets and closed eateries, Robin finally settled on a small out of the way diner called Roscoe’s down by the docks. In the early hours of the morning, it was all but empty, and the owner owed Batman a favor or three. It was common knowledge among the low life that frequented the area that the last two thieves who’d been foolish enough to rob the place had become an item of interest on the Caped Crusader’s radar and residents of the Gotham City Tombs less than eight hours after that.

“I hope you don’t mind the place,” Robin said as they settled into a back booth, away from the windows and any prying eyes that might pass outside of them.

“No, it’s lovely,” Supergirl grinned as she looked around the run down establishment, thinking that only two weeks ago she’d had tea at the White House.

They spent a few minutes exchanging small talk, seeing what each actually knew about the other. The real people beneath the costumes, and not the public personas that the tabloids wrote about. Robin was surprised to discover that the Girl of Steel was nothing like her more famous cousin whom he had met on several occasions. If Superman was sometimes referred to as the world’s biggest boy scout, she would never be mistaken for the female version.

Robin, on the other hand, came across exactly as the Kryptonian had imaged him. A bright, cute young man with a great love of adventure. It remained to be seen how far that spirit might go.

“I wonder where the waitress is,” Robin said after they had been waiting more than ten minutes. “It’s not like this place is overflowing with business at this time of night.”

Curious, the Girl of Steel turned her head in the direction of the bathroom to which the owner, after seeing them to their table, had indicated the waitress had gone. A flash of her X-ray vision brought a wicked smile to Supergirl’s face.

In the bathroom, the waitress, a stocky woman in her forties in a curly haired red wig, was certainly taking care of business. Just not the business that the phone booth sized room had been intended for. Down on her knees in the small space between the commode and the sink, the large breasted woman was busy performing oral sex on the diner’s nineteen-year-old busboy. Her blouse was open and her bra pulled down, giving the teenager easy access to her mammoth mounds. Supergirl watched for a few seconds as the busboy’s cock slid in and out of the older woman’s mouth. From the expression on the young man’s face, it was obvious he was quite enjoying the experience.

“Roscoe said she’d be coming right out,” the worried Teen Wonder said, taking the look of amusement on his guest’s face as a negative comment on his choice of locales.

“Oh I’m sure someone will be coming soon enough,” Supergirl grinned.

Sure enough, the bathroom door opened a minute later and the waitress emerged from within. She took a moment to check her appearance and straighten out her white and black uniform, quickly closing a middle button that she’d missed. Checking the mirror on the opposite wall, she took care to check the area around her mouth for anything else she might have missed.

“Daisy, customers in the back booth,” Roscoe called out from behind the front counter. “They’ve been waiting almost fifteen minutes!”

“Well let them wait,” she called back, “I was taking a break.”

Roscoe was tempted to say something about her having been on break half the night, but then thought better of it. Still, if he wasn’t fucking her on the side, one of these days she was going to find her fat ass out in the street. If he’d waited a few more seconds before turning his attention back to tomorrow’s racing form and saw the busboy sneaking out of the bathroom behind her, that day might be a lot sooner than either of them thought.

Daisy waited until Manuel made it back into the kitchen before heading towards the back booth. Concentrating on getting her order pad out of her apron, she didn’t notice who was in the booth until she was just about on top of it.

“What the fuck?” she exclaimed when she saw the colorfully costumed couple sitting there.

“We’re coming from a costume party,” Robin quickly offered, thinking it was a good excuse to explain their dress.

“And we thought it might be kind of fun to wear the costumes home and ... you know,” Supergirl added.

“Yeah, right,” Daisy replied, thinking that it took all kinds.

“We’ll have two coffees,” Robin said.

“Do you have any pumpkin pie?” Supergirl asked. “I love pumpkin pie.”

“I think we might have some left,” Daisy said as she looked to Robin to see if he wanted anything else.

Taking his silence as a no, she slid her pad back into her apron and headed back up to the counter. She had only gone a few steps when Supergirl called out not to forget the whipped cream on that.

“What can I say?” the Maid of Might smiled, turning back to Robin. “We had nothing like that back on Argo City.”