In fact, he was out of any costume!
Dick knew at once he was stark naked. Instinctively, he pulled the bed sheet higher up towards his neck.
Bed?
The college senior was in a bed, but it wasn’t his. He wasn’t in his campus apartment and he certainly wasn’t at Wayne Manor.
The light of early morning streaming through a window drew his attention to his left. There was someone in the bed with him! A bare, lightly-tanned back faced Dick. The figure seemed short of stature and had a full head of stylishly-cut, red hair. From the person’s regular breathing, he guessed his bed-mate was still asleep.
Dick fought the urge to panic. He struggled to recall the events of the past hours. ‘How did I end up here?’
Final exam week loomed for the students of Gotham State University. As was their Thursday afternoon custom, Dick met his roommate, Wally West, and his friend from high school, Susie, for some rest and relaxation. In recent months, the trio had been joined by Brian, the junior Dick had met at the beginning of the school year at the Round Robin, the gay bar just off campus.
Dick had struck up a platonic friendship with the amicable young man. After some initial reluctance on their part, Wally and Susie came to accept the pre-law student into their circle of friends.
In time, the Round Robin even became something of a hangout for the group. Susie enjoyed getting away from her job as manager of the Student Union, while going out rather than to someone’s apartment or dorm precluded anyone from having to serve as “host.”
Now that they were a foursome, card games had become part of their Thursday afternoon ritual. Today was Susie’s choice. As usual, she chose bridge. It was Brian’s turn to be her partner.
“You know,” Brian began as Wally dealt the cards, “you guys are starting to ruin this place’s reputation.”
“What do you mean?” Dick asked, playing his role of the innocent.
“Well, if word gets out that too many ‘straights’ are coming here . . .”
“I don’t think Bill minds . . .” Susie said. She gave the barman a cheery wave, which was returned with a broad smile. The sexual orientation of the handsome young bartender was an ongoing mystery.
“. . . as long as we keep buying the food,” Wally said between bites of an enormous Dagwood sandwich. Wally was legendary for his prodigious appetite, which was quite surprising, considering how slim and trim he was.
For a moment the quartet concentrated on their cards. After the bidding, Dick became the dummy.
“Grayson, my man,” Wally announced with the pomp befitting a coronation, “I’m dry and it’s your turn to buy.”
This also was standard practice for the group. “Okay, what does everybody want?” Dick asked. After taking his friends’ orders, he got up and went to the bar.
“Bill, I need two beers and two Pepsis.”
“Comin’ right up,” the bartender replied. There was no need to ask what kind of beers. He knew from experience. “Let me guess,” he continued as he filled a couple of glasses with crushed ice, “it’s Susie’s turn.”
“You got it,” Dick replied with a grin. Bill put the four drinks on a round tray and handed it to the “dummy.”
Dick turned, tray in hand, and ran into a woman who had come up to stand right behind him, like a basketball player taking a charge. Soda, beer, two glasses and two bottles fell to the floor, with a good portion of the liquids bathing Dick and the woman.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!!” she cried. “It was all my fault!”
“No, that’s alright,” Dick said kindly as he ineffectually brushed himself off. “I should have looked where I was – Pussycat!?”
The woman couldn’t have looked more shocked if Dick had called her a whore. “Yes . . . but . . . how?”
Across the room, Wally, who couldn’t hear their conversation, bellowed, “Foul on Grayson! She had position!”
Dick ignored his roommate. He knew had to do some quick explaining. ‘How could Dick Grayson recognize Pussycat, Catwoman’s one-time protege?’ “I . . . err . . . saw your picture in the newspaper.”
“That was seven years ago,” Pussycat pointed out, with a raised eyebrow. “You have quite a memory!” She had quickly regained her composure.
“Uh, I saw it back in The Hole?” Dick said none-too-convincingly, referring to the Catwoman shrine in the back room of the bar.
“I’m not up there,” Pussycat replied, looking at him sideways. “I’ve checked.”
Dick summoned up all his acting ability. Amazingly, he was able to blush on command. He lowered his voice and half-turned away. “I cut your picture out of the newspaper.”
“Really?” the buxom young woman said. “An admirer?”
“I also have your CD.”
“And a fan, too! Most people don’t recognize me out of costume.”
“Hey!” Wally yelled. “I’m dying of thirst over here! Dry yourself off and buy us another round!”
“Let me take care of that, mister . . ?”
“Grayson . . . err . . . But you can call me Dick.”
“Alright, Dick. It looks like your friends are ready to deal another hand. You go ahead. I’ll play waitress.”
“You really don’t have to–”
“Go!” Pussycat ordered.
Dick did as he was told. As he took his place back at the table, Wally complained, “Hey! Where are the drinks?”
Dick tilted his head in the direction of the bar and nonchalantly replied, “She’s getting them.”
“She?” Susie wanted to know. Susie had a passion for bridge. She had been so engrossed in her cards, she had barely noticed the person with whom her on-again/off-again boyfriend had collided. In addition, her back had been to the incident. “Who?”
Before Susie could turn to take a closer look, Brian observed, “Fast work, Dick.” For his remark, he received a well-aimed kick under the table from Susie.
At that moment, Pussycat arrived, a beer in one hand and a glass in the other. “Who gets what?” At the sound of Pussycat’s voice, Susie hid her face behind her cards.
“Beer for me,” said Brian. Pussycat sat the bottle down in front of him. “Thanks.”
“Wally and I are soda drinkers,” Dick said.
Pussycat smiled and handed the glass to the red-haired boy. “Thank you,” Wally said with a grin. “I’m parched!”
“I’ll be right back,” Pussycat said. “I didn’t want to risk a tray.”
As Pussycat returned to the bar, Wally leaned forward across the table. “Do you know her, roomie?”
Dick pretended not to hear as he studied the cards Brian had dealt him. Susie, however, was not going to let him off the hook so easily. “Yes, Dick,” she asked innocently, “who is she?”
“Well . . . “ Dick began.
Pussycat delivered the glass to Dick, then started to put the bottle on the table by Susie. She stopped in mid-motion. “You!” Pussycat cried. Susie glared up at her.
“You two know each other?” Wally asked, stating the obvious.
Pussycat sat the bottle down, barely within Susie’s reach. Brian, cognizant of the strained silence that followed, stood up, thrust out his hand and said, “Hi. My name’s Brian.”
Pussycat, ignoring Susie, took the offered hand with a smile that lit up the room. “Nice to meet you.” Then there was another uncomfortable period in which nothing more was said.
Dick finally spoke up. “The loud fella over there is Wally West.” Dick’s two male friends looked at him expectantly. “Uh, guys, I’d like you to – err, that is, I want to introduce–”
“It’s okay, Dick,” Pussycat said. “I prefer my stage name.”
“I’m sure,” said Susie, almost with a sneer.
Dick had no choice but to give in. “This is Pussycat.”
“The singer?!” Wally asked as he stood, clearly impressed.
“Catwoman’s one-time assistant?” Brian questioned. Wally fell back into his chair.
“Yes, both.”
Wally looked back and forth between the celebrity and Susie. A look of understanding broke across his face. “So you two met . . ?” Susie shot him a dirty look.
“. . . at the Bruce Wayne Home for Wayward Girls,” Pussycat confirmed. Dick thought for the umpteenth time how he wished his former guardian had come up with a better name for that institution.
Pussycat continued, “Susie, I’m surprised to find you hanging out at a gay and lesbian bar.”
“Huh!” Susie grunted. “I could say the same thing.”
It was obvious Susie and Pussycat had not been best of friends. Pussycat turned as if to leave. “Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your game–”
“No, that’s all right!” Wally said. He got up and grabbed another chair from a nearby table. “Here, have a seat.”
“Why, thank you,” she replied as she sat.
“Can I get you a drink?” asked Brian.
“A gingerale would be nice,” Pussycat answered. By way of explanation she went on, “I’ve got to watch what I drink – to protect the pipes, you know.”
Brain fetched the beverage for their guest of honor. The three young men fawned over Pussycat, while Susie quietly seethed.
As they talked, Dick tried not to stare at Pussycat. She had been the only good thing about Robin’s first exposure to Cataphrenic. He could never quite bring himself to blame her for scratching him with it. In fact, other than that initial attack, she had done nothing but treat the Boy Wonder with kindness.
Back then Pussycat had been cute – attractive in a perky sort of way. Now, however, she had blossomed into a truly beautiful woman–
Dick suddenly noticed Susie was giving him a particularly angry look.
They talked for some fifteen minutes, with Susie grudgingly joining the conversation. Then, just about the time Dick finished his soda, Pussycat looked at her watch and announced, “Oh, look at the time! I’ve got to be going . . . but Dick, would you walk me to my car? I’ve got something for you.”
Dick, Wally and Brian all stood up. Wally, ever the class act, hooted, “Oh, I bet you do!”
Pussycat gave Wally a patient grin. “As a matter of fact, I have some of my concert T-shirts in the car. I want to give Dick something clean and dry to wear.” She looked at Brian and Susie, “I’ll give him a couple of extra for you, but maybe you, Mr. West, won’t get one.”
“Aww, don’t be that way,” Wally said, pretending to be hurt while giving her his best puppy-dog look.
“We’ll see,” Pussycat said, with mock haughtiness. She turned to Susie. “It really was good to see you again.”
“Take care,” Susie said without enthusiasm.
Pussycat flashed Brian a departing smile, then said, “Come along, Dick.”
Dick grinned sheepishly at his friends, shrugged his shoulders as if he had no choice and followed the singer out of the Round Robin.
As they walked down the street, Pussycat looked at Dick and said, “You know, Dick Grayson, you remind me of someone . . .”
“Oh?” Dick said. Just then, he was struck by a wave of dizziness.
That was the last thing Dick could remember.
Now the figure on the bed turned toward him, eyes still closed. It was Pussycat!
Dick struggled to keep his eyes above her neckline. On her, the top of the sheet was down around her naval.
Before Dick could conceive of a plan of action, Pussycat’s eyes popped open. “Why, good morning.”
Utterly confused, all Dick managed to reply was, “Good morning.”
Pussycat smiled and stretched. Then she leaned toward Dick as if to kiss him. Dick pulled away.
“Hmm,” was all Pussycat said. Then, in one motion, she rolled off the bed, away from Dick, pulling the sheet with her!
Dick hopped out of bed, grabbing a pillow to try to protect what little dignity he had left. Frantically scanning the room, he noticed his clothes were strewn all over the floor, intermixed with what Pussycat had been wearing the day before.
“What’s the meaning of this!?” Dick demanded. “How did I get here? What happened?”
Pussycat smiled at the confused young man. “Oh, I think you can make a pretty good guess.” She paused and looked up and down at Dick. “What, are you shy, all of a sudden?”
Dick couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Pussycat turned to leave the bedroom. “Go ahead and get dressed. When you’re done, come on down and we’ll talk.” She closed the door behind her as she left.
Dick quickly gathered up his clothes and got dressed. Stepping out of the bedroom, he discerned that he was on the second floor of a house . . . no, more like a mansion. A long hallway led to a graceful, curved staircase. As he descended it, a voice from below and to the left called, “This way, Dickie-boy.”
Dick walked through a large, well-appointed living room into what was either a den or a study. The walls were adorned with pictures from Pussycat’s time in the recording business. The woman herself sat behind a large desk. She was wearing her costume, in two tones of pink.
Cat ears stuck out from the top of her head. She wore a skin-tight, plain pink top with an oval cut out for her neck, which was adorned with a dark pink bow tie. The top merged into a pink mini-skirt featuring a belt that matched the tie, with a ribbon in the back. Mittens were connected by a long string that was draped around her neck and helped accentuate her breasts, which were straining against the material of her top. Pink, wool-looking tights descended into pink-white go-go boots, completing her outfit.
Dick looked around. “You must have done quite well from your CD.”
Pussycat smirked. “The royalties only covered the downpayment. My . . . other activities finance the mortgage.”
“How did I end up here?” Dick demanded.
The twenty-seven year old woman smiled. “I assume you’ve heard of gamma hydroxy butyrate?”
“GHB,” Dick said, understanding, “the date rape drug.” The chemical had knocked him out and effected his memory.
“Exactly,” Pussycat confirmed. “Colorless, odorless – it was a simple matter to slip it into your Pepsi.”
“My running into you was no accident.”
“Bright boy. I’ve had my eye on you for some time,” Pussycat revealed. “Oh, by the way – I mixed some cialis into your drink, too.”
Dick raised his left eyebrow. “Did anything actually happen?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to worry about,” the petite titian wench said enigmatically, “but I’ve got pictures.”
“Blackmail,” Dick stated simply.
“That’s such an unpleasant sounding word, but that’s basically it,” Pussycat admitted.
“So, your reformation was just part of your act?”
“Not at first.” Pussycat got a faraway look in her eyes. “You know, it’s all Robin’s fault.”
That statement caught Dick by surprise. “Robin?”
“Yes,” the rock and roll singer said. An edge crept into her voice. “I was good for several years. Did he come around? Did he call? Did he write, even once?”
Dick knew the answer. Immediately he felt a little guilty for not encouraging the young woman’s effort to go straight.
“This way, eventually, I’m sure I’ll attract his attention.” Pussycat sighed. “For now, however, you and I have business to discuss. Like, how much will you have to pay me to keep the pictures I have of us to myself?”
It was Dick’s turn to smile. “You’ve miscalculated this time, Pussycat. I’m single. I don’t even have a steady girlfriend.”
Pussycat’s eyes narrowed. “What about Susie?”
“She’s a girl and we’re friends, but there’s nothing serious between us.” Dick was understating the case a bit, but he had sold his point to the blackmailer.
“I bet your former guardian, Mr. Bruce Wayne, would be most interested to learn you’ve slept with a known associate of Catwoman.”
“Ha!” Dick laughed. “You’re talking about Gotham City’s most notorious playboy! I imagine he’d congratulate me.”
Pussycat stood up and walked around from behind the desk. This wasn’t going at all like she had planned. Her previous victims were rich college boys who folded at once, not wanting their parents to be exposed to compromising pictures. ‘There’s more to Dickie-boy than I thought. Still . . .’ Pussycat played what she felt was her trump card. “How do you think Mrs. Harriet Cooper would react to seeing pictures of her nephew naked in bed with the girl who once tied her up in Wayne Manor?”
Dick had almost forgotten that Pussycat was a part of Catwoman’s . . . and Robin’s . . . raid on Wayne Manor. Some of the details of what happened when he was under the influence of Cataphrenic were still fuzzy.
Dick’s assured demeanor, however, didn’t crack. “Aunt Harriet is a lot tougher than most people think. She realizes that Mr. Wayne and I might be the target of blackmail. It will take a lot more than a few pictures to throw her.”
Pussycat frowned. She surreptitiously reached back behind her and toggled a switch on her desk. “Alright Mr. Grayson. You’ve convinced me. Maybe blackmail won’t work on you.”
Dick smiled triumphantly.
Pussycat titled her head. “Anyway, I had some fun . . . and I’m flexible. If blackmail won’t work, I’m willing to switch to kidnapping!”
Marlowe had stealthily stepped into the room in response to his mistress’s summons. Now he wrapped his arms around the college senior.
“I wonder how much Mr. Wayne would be willing to pay to get you back in one piece?”
“You’ll never find out!” Dick declared. He brought his right foot down hard on Marlowe’s instep.
Pussycat’s co-conspirator howled in pain. While he hopped around on one foot, Dick sent him to dreamland with a crushing right cross.
Now Dick faced a dilemma. Dick Grayson arresting Pussycat and a former Catwoman henchman wouldn’t do Robin’s secret identity any good. He quickly reached a decision.
“Pussycat, I’m leaving. I’d strongly advise you to be gone by the time I get back with the police. I’m also going to make sure the story of your little enterprise gets to the media, so you shouldn’t count on getting any more hush money.”
Pussycat was surprised and relieved that Dick was letting her go. “You . . . you do like me, don’t you?”
“I could have,” Dick replied. “Mend your ways and maybe some day I still can. Goodbye.” With that, Dick left.
Pussycat went over to roust Marlowe. As she did, she muttered, “You’ve not heard the last of me, Dickie-boy . . . not by a long shot!”