Iceberg Lounge // White Rabbit

His two extra days at the hospital were intense, to say the least. Put simply, he was fucking two black women and doing it while creating mystery and drama. Because of his sudden, almost mysterious transfer, none of the patients and doctors knew he was in his room until the following day. Nothing was made official or written in ink. So despite the cries and screams and squirting, they didn't know it was Aaron Reigner railing these bitches.

Luckily, nobody suspected. Nobody spoke to him. Aaron was quite the introvert. Handsome but upon a conversation someone who clearly respected boundaries and rules. He regularly sat outside to create a pseudo-alibi and build a character that enjoyed the peace and quiet.

Aaron was cautious and careful and could improvise on the fly. He needed to fuck Tam and Tanya Fox in separate parts of the hospital witbout the nurses or other patients suspecting. There were plenty of empty rooms, areas, and unsupervised halls for him to exploit, like the bathroom stall where he was screwing Tamara Fox senseless.

Hoisting her leg over his shoulder and fucking her slow, Tam proclaimed, "You have the greatest cock ever! Ah! Oh! Unh! There's no better cock than yourssss! Your cooooooockk is the biggest in Gotham!"

Encouraging Aaron like that would only lead to her downfall. Which it did. The big titty ebony turned into a bumbling slut whenever he put a modicum of effort in. He eventually ended their session with a nice, loaded creampie. Tamara Fox lay crumpled on the toilet for nearly half an hour.

Aaron watched his seed trickle out of her. He huffed and said to himself, "At least I know she's taking birth control."

Later in the day, Tanya Fox swung by. She still needed to talk to a few employees and discuss the contents of their insurance plans. Although they had people specifically for talks like this, Tanya wanted to be there for the sake of reputation and Aaron's cock.

The second she could, the fifty-one year old woman would head over to his room and let herself get fucked.

On the bed, holding onto the headboard, Tanya was getting reminded of what exactly she missed in her prime. What she missed by marrying her career-oriented husband.

"S-so…f-fucking…g-goood! Unhhh!" Tanya arched her back, his massive cock spreading her as it throbbed. "It's so much bigger than Lucius's! Fuck! I've been waiting for this bad boy and it's way bigger than I expected! Fuck! FUCK! COCK! Lucius can't…how can I go back to fucking him after thisssss!"

"I don't know," Aaron responded uncaringly. Besides her skirt which was split down the crack of her ass and pussy to let him fuck, Tanya was clothed and business-like. Getting this heavily make-uped woman to break under his cock was phenomenal. She was his boss, technically, yet when it came to matters of sex–

"You're the best! I-I can't…I can't live without your dick!"

Tanya said it best. She couldn't live without it.

Between the sessions, he encountered one of the ladies he fucked during the incident, although perhaps encountered was too strong a word. As he passed her in the hall, Benita, the stunning lady with long orange dreads, was holding hands with her boyfriend Giovanni and talking expeditiously with him. Their footsteps slowed down as they went past him. As soon as they thought he made a turn and was out of ear shot, they stopped to whisper and gossip.

"Do we know that guy? He seems familiar," Benita commented, low yet thrilled.

"Maybe. Because of what happened, there's been a lot of memory problems," Giovanni replied. "Maybe we saw him. Maybe you…ya know…"

"I fucked him? Yeah, maybe," Benita mumbled. He heard her breathing quicken. "My pussy has been feeling loose and he LOOKS like has a big dick."

"Benita!" Giovanni hushed.

"I'm just saying, honey," Benita replied cheekily. "Big dick energy is pretty obvious to women–or to me, at least. I can tell that dude is slanging."

"Don't I have big dick energy?" Giovanni asked, irked.

"Maybe during anal."

"Benita!"

Pause. As if in a comedy, the two shared a laugh and walked off. Meanwhile, Aaron leaned on the wall, having listened with those hound-like ears of his.

'What a weird couple.' Aaron remembered Giovanni and his tiny penis, as well as the mental insults he hurled at him. He cringed at his past self. Clearly, sex wasn't everything in a relationship.

…although he did wonder how Giovanni was going to satisfy Benita after the stretching he gave her. To compare him and Giovanni was…er…crazy, because the gap was so fucking big that it may as well not be compared. Aaron was like an eggplant or a zucchini. Giovanni was…a baby carrot, if that. It would be like using a paperclip to fill the Marianas Trench. Her hole was fucking gaping. The boyfriend was going to need cosmic forces to appease Benita.

'But I suppose it's not my problem anymore. I did my job and saved him, his girlfriend, and everyone else.' In spite of his convictions, Aaron chuckled. Honestly, after his physical examination and the way the detectives and medical staff talked about his big dick, he felt a bit down. But seeing Benita stay by her boyfriend's side even after the royal fucking he gave her brought him comfort. Sex did not supersede everything. Loyalty could come from personality. 'Maybe I should keep Mr. Giovanni in my prayers. He'll need it.'

He pushed himself off the wall. He had a check-up to attend and he was pushing it late.

Dr. Thompkins was in the room alongside an unfamiliar nurse. Fiona Wilson, her name tag read, a young black-haired woman with dark heavy bags underneath her eyes. As he sat there on the bed, the nurse came up to him with a stethoscope and checked his heart beat.

"It's strong," the nurse commented. "Meaning you're stable." She pulled back and glanced at her clipboard. "Everything else seems to be in perfect shape too."

Aaron nodded curtly.

"Why don't you strip, Mr. Reigner?" Dr. Thompkins suggested, wiggling her eyebrows. "Give her a show. God knows Nurse Wilson needs it."

The nurse scowled. "Please, Dr. Thompkins, be serious."

Aaron sent the older woman a look. She giggled in return.

As Dr. Thompkins had promised, she and her staff members did not tell or record his legendary size. The rumours he lowkey anticipated were nonexistent. Not a crumb of suspicion was on him, both for his participation in the incident, his prodigious endowment, and the hospital sex with Tam and Tanya. He blended in with his surroundings as he always did. However, in spite of the return to norm, something had shifted. He couldn't put his finger on what though.

Exiting the examination room, he encountered the two male faces he did not want to see again: Noah and Todd. They stood outside the room drinking cans of soda and conversing enthusiastically. They must have been waiting for their own respective appointments.

There was a moment where they paused and acknowledged him. A short, clipped nod of respect. Given the rumours shrieking throughout the hospital, they likely didn't possess full memories of what occurred. Perhaps they remembered his rescue, perhaps they didn't. It didn't matter. Neither he nor the duo wanted to strike up a conversation. It was too awkward.

Aaron's assumption was that they remembered very little. The fact that the police questioned him like any other victim/witness was telling. They had no clue who or what incapacitated Poison Ivy.

Luck was on his side and he was thankful for it. He wished to remain anonymous. Iman Avesta, Samantha, Noah, Todd…he hoped their memories were scrambled enough so that he wouldn't ever have to speak of the situation and his actions.

He sat on his hospital bed, relaxing and watching TV. His ears tingled as he heard an expansive set of heavy footsteps. The door slid open.

"Excuse our intrusion." It was Detective Andi Kasinsky, the short haired blonde.

"Detective," Aaron acknowledged.

"Apologies," Detective Kasinsky said, smiling, "we have a few questions for you again."

"Come in."

One-by-one, she was joined by her detective friends: Josie MacDonald, Melody McKenna, and Joely Bartlett. The cast of characters were unique in their own right, from Detective Kasinsky's apologetic nature, Detective Mac's sternness, Detective McKenna's eagerness to solve cases, to Detective Bartlett's faith. Over the past two days, the investigators came around to confirm testimonies and double-check timings. Of course, in his case, there was also the intent to flirt and ogle. In fact, this time, they seemed to be accompanied by an extra with that very obvious purpose in mind.

"Hello there, Aaron Reigner," the new ebony woman began. "I'm M.P.T Anne Bishop, part of the Medical Protection Team. I'm just making rounds to, ya know, make sure our patients are safe."

Anne Bishop was in a thick police uniform and had extra short black hair. A woman of colour with pride and discipline. Upon seeing Aaron on the bed, her pupils grew hungry. She eyed him like a piece of meat.

'They brought in an extra, huh? Well, I guess there's no pushing this off any longer.'

They wanted to fuck him, plain and simple, and he would grant them that request. They were, after all, average women working in tough fields. Medicine and law enforcement? Indeed, for the opposite gender, it could oftentimes be unnecessarily difficult due to the catcalling and harassment.

Aaron slowly edged off his bed.

"Oh, Mr. Reigner, there's no need to get off," Detective Kasinsky said, coming forward with a soothing hand. "We're only here for questions."

"Mhm. Sure."

…

…

…

...

...

"Oh, yes! I love your coooock! I'm gonna marry your cooook~♡! Oh! Ohh~! Oooohhn!"

Five thirsty women, one bored man. It was a slaughter. A mismatch. Aaron fucked them nice and hard and made them act like they were virgins experiencing sex for the first time.

The apologetic Detective Kasinsky broke first. She was the loudest too as she hadn't had dick in a long time due to her divorce. She screamed and praised his cock, thoroughly addicted to it after a fierce pounding.

Once he dumped a hot load inside her, Detective Kasinsky collapsed. She was the easiest to please as she carried the last amount of stamina.

Next was Detective McKenna. Oh man, was she a doozy. Although horny, he saw hesitation in her eyes.

"S-sorry! Sorry! It's sooo good! Your cock! Amazing! I can't–! I can't–! I can't hold baaack! Cock! Long! Deep! So goood!"

Luckily, after a nice makeout session and then piping her from behind, she lost said hesitation. It was like the delay was never there to begin with. When he asked her why she was so sensitive, the black detective was happy to answer.

"My husband! My poor husband!" Detective McKenna wailed. "Make me forget about my husband! My husband! Oooh, he never went this deep! Fuuuuck~!" He prodded her womb a little more and discovered extra details. Her husband was killed by the supervillain Mirror years ago. The grief from such a loss prevented her from moving on, from having sex or finding another man.

Until now.

"Thank you, thank, thank you! Good! God! God! Amazing!"

He pulled on her low pony-tail and dragged her across his cock repeatedly–with stealth and precision that erased her trauma. The East African woman was the darkest too so watching his white cock pump in and out of her was mesmerizing. It was like art, a blend of black and white that had longed for each other.

The emphasis between skin tones was greater as he fucked the other black women. Detective Josie Mac and Anne Bishop practically sang songs regarding his white cock.

"I was right! I waaaaaaaaaas~! White cock is better! Your cock–your cock is better! So much better! Fuck! Shit! Fuuuck!" Dreads in a high-ponytail were phenomenal for pulling. Like reigns, like with Detective McKenna and Vicki Vale, he used them to put some oomph into his thrusts. Pounding into her like a madman while he also fingered Anne Bishop.

Satisfying two women at once? Not a problem for Aaron Reigner. He creampied her and stuffed more spunk than she had experienced in a lifetime.

Then he fucked Anne Bishop. Rather than doggy style, his favourite, he slammed her against the wall and screwed her standing. The sweat and tears overflowing from the proud black officer was tasty.

"Big! Fat! White! Cock! Too good, it's too good," Anne Bishop howled into his ear. "You motherfucker! How can you be that deep? How!? How, how, how!? Motherfucker, how can a white cock be this goooood!?"

Aaron wasn't a huge proponent of race play but hey–if the ladies enjoyed it then they enjoyed it. What could he do except continue to fulfil their fantasies?

"We love white cock! We love white cock!" Anne Bishop and Josie Mac exclaimed in synch. "White cock! W-white–"

He flicked another finger inside Anne and brutally thrusted into Detective Mac. "Quiet," he ordered. "We're in a hospital."

They obeyed.

They also came seven times. Their minds were deficient by the end, their faces and bodies puckered and twitchy.

Detective Bartlett was the most attentive and observant member of the team and that showed in the way she had sex. She took a particular interest in his balls, suckling on them as soon as he was finished with Anne Bishop. Her tongue ran laps around the precious orbs. Aaron's cock throbbed, isolated, and he peered down at her strange kink.

"You're Catholic, aren't you? Should you really be doing something this perverted?" Aaron asked, gesturing to the chaos of the sixsome.

"A…holy…union…is–anh!–not a–ah!–sin." Detective Barlett didn't pause and answered between licks.

'Shouldn't that be with a husband though…' Aaron tried not to judge, despite the hypocrisy. It wasn't like he was a man of faith himself.

An hour passed. Another batch of creampies were given as well as a thorough thrashing. Anne Bishop was fucked against the wall, sliding down as cum spilled out of her, and Detective Kasinsky lay on the floor, drooling and pooling white between her legs. Meanwhile, Aaron laid on his bed and watched television, balls sucked and cock serviced by Joely Barlett and Josie Mac. A white and black woman working in sync to praise him, to deify him, to serve him. It was exhilarating feeling the mix of two worlds. They might not have been models or overly busty or sexy but they had heart. They were ordinary white and black women trying to fit this giant cock inside them.

It was fun. Nothing life bending but a solid pass time.

"Good job," Aaron praised, hands behind his back. He casually switched the channel to a nature documentary. "You're both amazing."

Hums of delight came from under his sheet. He inhaled sharply as their tongues worked together to swirl the underside of his glans.

'I guess blowjobs and handjobs are easier than sex.'

Interestingly enough, not a single one of them could fit the totality of his length inside. Eight inches, seven inches–ten inches in the case of Anne Bishop, but never the full thing. A frank reminder that these women were not Cassandra, Vicki or Harley Quinn. They were not celebrities. They were mere footnotes.

Their cunts were nothing to note either. Excruciatingly tight but that was about it. He couldn't recall further details. Cassandra, Vicki, fucking Harley, they were phenomenal in so many ways that he could still feel the phantom pressures of their walls. The longing for a better, tighter, wetter pussy. A sign his body wanted them but were stuck with these thirsty, subpar law enforcers.

"Your white cock is so massive," Detective Mac commented, stroking him with both hands. She eyed her efforts with the curiosity and amazement of a veteran detective because it truly was amazing. It was something straight out of cartoon porn–a manhood capable of handling multiple pairs of hands. "It's like a great white pipe."

Detective Bartlett hummed. "Mmm, yeah…"

"I love white cock," Detective Mac added.

"Me too."

Under the covers of his blanket, hidden from plain view, they sucked and fondled and performed their best blowjobs and handjobs. The creampies laid deep inside them dripped out piece by piece. Their fate was already sealed: their insides would never be the same. He had arranged their guts like a surgeon.

Aaron sighed, satisfied as he came and facialed the two women. Swallowing was not an option as his shaft was like an uncontrollable water hose. As a matter of fact, he probably made a mess of the blanket and his legs. Even so, his primary object had been accomplished; a rigorous glazing of thick white slop on their faces, including Detective Bartlett's massive forehead. He lifted the blanket to witness her delight. She had told him during her screams that she hated her big forehead. Given its ample size, he was sure men found it difficult to cover it in their cum. A terrible reminder for the poor woman. Not Aaron though. He could release enough nectar for not just her but her contemporary too. He was a man who turned women's insecurities to dust. He made them love and appreciate themselves as well as his big, fat schlong.

He released the blanket and ordered them to clean up the mess on his legs. The smell of his spunk was not going to leave them for a couple days and that was exactly how he wanted it. Actually, no, he craved more. They still had a night left. He was going to fuck, creampie, and facial them until they couldn't walk for weeks.

***

Monday morning, on December 6th, Aaron Reigner was discharged from West Mercy Hospital.

There was a slight chill outside and he called for a taxi to get him home. As much as he wished he could do whatever he wanted, he couldn't. Supervillain attacks were common nowadays and work places could spring back from one easily. According to the Gotham City website, "Wayne Enterprises builds all of its properties to be able to withstand an earthquake of at least 8.5 on the Richter magnitude scale."

Yep. They weren't lying either. Ivy's seemingly impressive attack did nothing more than redecorate the place. On Wednesday, Aaron and everyone who was able had to go back.

Coming home he smelled dust and fresh plants. As expected, everything was neat and tidy and in their place. The first thing he did was light up a herb-scented candle. Its aroma was pleasant and it graced the air quickly.

Aaron inhaled. 'Home.'

Tanya and Tam were excellent distractions but their roles did not extend past that. Distractions. The detectives were the same but somehow worse. In their case, not a single one of them could handle the full obscenity of his cock. It was an unequal exchange, really. He fucked them until they couldn't walk while he was left with a bored, throbbing erection. He would have preferred staying home and doing nothing over a dull hospital stay and unsatisfying sex.

Well, maybe he was exaggerating.

He changed into blue shorts and a grey t-shirt, cracked open a cold can of coke, and plopped his bum in the recliner. He played on his game console for a few hours, ordered shawarma, and kicked back. The clock ticked by and the moon took its place in the clouds.

After a quick glance, he saw the legendary Bat Signal imprinted into the clouds. 'Better not be another Ivy attack or something.'

Snorting, he checked his cabinet drawers. The rice krispies were gone.

'Probably Cassandra. I noticed the shower was also used.'

During her five day tenure, he came to learn of her many strange habits. For example, she liked to stand in the shower stall and for two hours allow boiling hot water to pour down on her head. Why? What was the reason for such a painful experience? Because it was good training, apparently, and very relaxing in her opinion.

Whatever. Aaron didn't judge.

As the atmosphere of the night lingered, he started to reflect and think about his hospital stay. More specifically, about Lucius Fox. Apparently, he cheated on his wife with an employee and spawned an illegitimate child. Which child it was Tanya did not tell him. She was too busy slobbering over his dick to spell their name out.

'Timothy Fox, the oldest child and the current CEO of FoxTech, and the Batman of New York. Then Luke Fox, second eldest and the second Batwing according to Cass. Tam, the nurse here and third, and Tiffany, the youngest and a part-time vigilante.' An elbow on the couch armrest, he propped his chin up, thinking. 'Timothy, Luke, Tam, and Tiffany. Which one was born from an affair? Can't be Tam because they acted way too friendly with each other. I didn't sense even a spark of animosity on either end. Maybe Tiffany? She is significantly younger than her other siblings. Eh, that's a stretch. Hm, but wait, Cass told me Timothy was once exiled from Gotham. Maybe Tanya discovered the affair and cast him out?'

Aaron went on his phone to do research. Honestly, there wasn't a lot. Timothy was something of a playboy back in his highschool days. A flirtatious jock who spent his father's wealth lavishly. Picking up girls and taking them to bed. Ruining condos and rentals and doing dumb shit a typical spoiled rich kid would do. The articles were few in between but they were there.

'The other Fox's aren't like him. Maybe he became a fuckboy because he realized he wasn't legitimate?'

There was even less on Tiffany; rightfully so given she was barely thirteen. A teenage girl. When Cassandra had told him that she and Stephanie Brown were spearheading a new superhero group, the League of Batgirls, he was supportive. But upon being told of Tiffany's age and lack of formal training, he became hesitant.

'Maybe it is Tiffany…? She does seem eager to be a superhero. Too eager for a girl with a silver spoon. An underlying motivation rooted from being an affair child...? Then again…'

Aaron simply didn't know. He wasn't a hacking wizard so he couldn't just go on his laptop, dive into their records and find out. Even at the office, it was unlikely he could delve into their database. Realistically, he could only speculate.

His web of thought was broken by a light knock on the door. Aaron thought about ignoring it, that was what he did 99% of the time. But something was pushing him to open the door. So he did.

He wasn't disappointed.

"Cass!"

Aaron hardly recognized her. Rather than a pure jet black skin tight outfit, she wore armour of some kind. Made of a thicker, robust material, still black but now lined and patterned with gold, and fitted with shoulder guards. And where there should have been a cape, there was a hoodie. The pants were subtly baggy, providing flexibility where the upper area gave protection.

After looking her up and down, Aaron grinned. The chirpy smile Cassandra gave in return brought his mood up.

Aaron glanced out the hall. It was Cassandra, of course she wouldn't be careless but still. Better safe than sorry. "Come in," he said. "Feels like we haven't seen each other in a good while."

She stopped inside but stopped on the foot of his doormat. She turned, offered an apologetic smile, and said, "Can't take off shoes. Suit is the whole body."

Aaron tried not to cringe. Wearing shoes in the house was close to blasphemy. "I don't mind," he joked. "Anything to keep my house clean."

Cassandra blinked and looked away, the tips of her ears pink. She muttered an apology and headed inside. Aaron laughed and followed. Despite the fact that they had explored each other's bodies more than the average married couple, Cassandra easily got embarrassed when he flirted.

He readied dinner. A pork tenderloin with tons of roasted vegetables and lasagna. For two people, it might have appeared excessive. But Aaron had learned the hard way that Cassandra was a mighty eater. Her appetite only rivalled her libido, in part because of her supreme physical prowess. She could twice as much as him and Aaron was happy to supply. He kept a plethora of ingredients in the fridge and was proficient in cooking and baking.

"Enjoying yourself?" Aaron asked, chuckling.

Cassandra stuffed a forkful of lasagna and sent him a thumbs-up. The dinner table was small, intended for two. It was the first time Aaron had seen it full. There was a heavy flutter in his stomach and it wasn't from the food. Oddly enough, he didn't mind the strange feeling.

His plate licked lean from the lasagna, he decided to voice the thoughts he had been suppressing since he saw her.

"So what's up with the outfit?"

Cassandra gulped down some pork and put down her utensils. She signed him an explanation. Cassandra wasn't just Batgirl, she was also Orphan. Her skill set was too wide to be based only in Gotham, to be limited by the Bat Family, so she occasionally went over to Blüdhaven and New York. In those cities, she was known as Orphan, a mercenary title she stole from her father. She reclaimed it as a way to better the world rather than inflict pain on it; to right the wrongs of her family.

"So that's why you have a different suit." An awed smile formed on Aaron's face "You told me about Orphan but you failed to mention how badass the suit was. You rock it well."

Cassandra beamed at him, elated that he understood her.

"Isn't the hood a little too…how do I put this, not enough? The mask in your Batgirl costume hides your face but this hood kinda doesn't."

Cassandra shook her head and pulled up a black neck mask. Aaron's smile widened.

"That's super cool. You got the full ninja experience going on."

Cassandra nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Cassandra Cain, despite struggling with verbal language, did not know sign language. Not really. She was taught the basics by Barabra Gordon but not much else. ASL was as complex as any verbal language with its own grammar, phrases and syntax. Like any mouth-speaking language, it required years of practice and discipline to be fluent in. But because of the way Cassandra's brain was wired, the way her father raised and abused her, she could only speak violence. The mere concept of a language was foreign to her for nearly fourteen years and the consequences of that would stay with her for the rest of her life.

She could read the subconscious cues of a person and that worked well enough in her role as a superhero. But as a normal person? An ordinary woman walking the streets of Gotham? Making friends? Dating? It hampered her ability to express herself greatly.

For deep discussions, it became borderline impossible for folks to talk to her. She threw random gestures, spoke in movie lines, but generally nothing stuck. Cassandra was forced to keep quiet and nod or say one-word responses because that was all she could do. She understood English and Mandarin, but was half illiterate and a quarter nonverbal. A combination leading to a harrowing life.

"I feel as though the name Orphan is still a little depressing. How about…Silhouette? You're really stealthy and it fits with the ninja theme."

Not with Aaron. He could read body language to an absurd degree, less like Shiva and Cassandra and more like Batman, the world's greatest detective. For him, Cassandra's thoughts were as easy to read as a book.

He saw how she flashed with joy, then deflated a little. Given who she was with, it was obvious to him that she was saying, "Batman would need to approve."

Yes, Cassandra spoke. But she spoke with her body first, then her mouth. Even then, her words were short and sweet, never long-winded. Aaron understood her regardless.

"I guess he's a little stingy." Aaron crossed his arms. "Maybe it needs a little flair. Shadow Silhouette? No, the One Silhouette? Like the Dark Knight, you know?"

Cassandra silently snickered and shrugged. She cleared her throat, gargling bile, and began to speak in an absurdly low, raspy voice. "I am vengeance. I am the night. I am…Batman!"

Crickets. Aaron tilted his head, lost. Cassandra's cheeks turned into a joyous shade of red as she laughed.

"D-does…does Batman really say that?" he asked quietly.

An arm thrusted at him, she declared mockingly in the same weird raspy, deep imitation of the Dark Knight, "He's the goddamn Batman."

Cassandra went into a hushed fit of laughter again. So did Aaron. He couldn't help but cackle at her impression. "Does he really sound like that?"

"Mhm, mhm."

"Wow…being a vigilante must be hard. On your throat."

He didn't mean to but there was an innuendo there, which Cassandra immediately capitalized on by imitating the motions of a blowjob. This time, it was Aaron who went red and he discreetly hid his expression behind a face-palm.

He took a peak at the clock, wanting to change the subject. "Hey, unless you're busy, do you want to watch a movie? Maybe we can brainstorm some ideas for your new superhero name there."

Cassandra blinked and pointed at herself. He smiled and nodded. Out of reflex, she put her palms up and gestured no.

"Are you busy?" Aaron asked. She swiped her head up and down. "Oh, my bad. Hey, at least you're here. That's more than enough for me."

That was exactly what she did. Eat, eat, eat until she could see her own reflection from her empty plate. Hands on her lap, she exuded anxiety and embarrassment.

Aaron got the jist of it. She didn't owe him anything but she thought she did. Aaron chuckled in his head. He knew more than anyone how stubborn she was. How headstrong she could be with her decisions. Turning back on her word was too much for her right now.

That was okay with Aaron though.

He stood up, put away the dishes, and headed over to the living room. He sensed her confused gaze trailing him as he laid across the sofa. He stretched his body like a cat and accidentally let his shirt climb to show his stomach and the curves to his crotch.

"Aw, man. So bored." Aaron yawned and flicked on Netflix. "Wish I had somebody to save me from this boredom."

Corny, yes. But was her response immediate? Also yes. In a shadowy blur, she settled alongside him and rubbed her butt against his crotch, acting as the little spoon. Grinning, Aaron draped an arm over her. Given her costume, it was somewhat uncomfortable but he didn't let it stop him from cuddling with her. Her head tucked under his chin, he could smell her wonderful pomegranate shampoo.

"Want some snacks?" Aaron asked as he picked out a movie.

"Stay," Cassandra said. She entangled her hand with his. Aaron decided to anchor himself.

Netflix and chill. Despite the past week, there was nothing else more to it. He and Cassandra really did watch Netflix and chill. Maybe it was because they simply wanted to unwind or maybe it was because of the movie. It was an animated film about a deaf girl and her bully. There was romantic subtext but it was mostly a story of forgiveness, kindness and redemption. There were times where he felt Cassandra shift under him. Afraid, excited, thrilled, sad.

Cassandra was reserved and purposely limited her emotions but that did not mean she did not feel. She was highly empathic, maybe a little too much. By the end, she shed a tear and Aaron wondered how this small, kind woman was one of the greatest fighters in the world.

There was a fight scene where the poor girl was getting her shit rocked by the bully. It was awful to watch, sad and unfair as the main character refused to fight back but a supporting character eventually arrived to break the one-sided beating.

"Not fair," Cassandra said, frowning.

"Yeah, it isn't." Then, to lighten the mood, he added, "I wouldn't let myself get beat like that though. Just saying."

Cassandra laughed in spite of the movie's tragic tone. "Me too."

"Where would we hide the body?"

Another laugh. "Fridge," she replied.

The credits rolled. Night time was upon them. He could feel her stir.

"So," Aaron began, "how do you eat your cupcakes?"

She turned her head upwards, lips brushing his chin. She didn't understand.

"Everybody eats a cupcake differently, right? Some eat it normally, top to bottom. Others eat the bottom first, or tear the bottom off and make a sandwich with the icing in the middle."

Cassandra considered his inquiry for a moment before shrugging.

"Well, that's okay. Next time you swing by, I'll bake a nice, fresh batch of cupcakes. We'll find out how you eat one then."

The implication behind his comment brightened her right up. "Yes. Next time," she murmured.

Aaron smiled sadly. "Gotta go?"

"Mhm."

"Don't let me keep you from doing your work."

Cassandra craned her head towards him. Brown eyes swimming in apologies and hesitation. Aaron kissed her on the forehead.

"Oh, but for your next visit, could you add detachable shoes to your costume? I really don't want to have to clean everytime you come here."

Cassandra grinned, teeth showing. "No promise."

Aaron pouted. "Not fair. Okay, get me whip cream and chocolate syrup. That will make it fair."

Cassandra poked his cheek with her pinky finger. Aaron's smile spread and he lifted his small finger to entangle with hers. It was a promise.

All of a sudden, her pinky broke away and she started sniffing him. As if possessed by a dog, Cassandra shoved her nose into his chest, then made her way up to his neck and eventually his ears and hair. She pulled back and stared up at him peculiarly.

"I went to the hospital," Aaron explained. Her eyes went wide in alarm. He could read every emotion and question rolling off of her. "Yes, I'm alright. No, nothing broke. Yes, it was at work. No, it wasn't a big deal. And yes, I'm going back to work."

Cassandra studied him hard. She was obsessively protective over him, it seemed, reading every slimmer of his body language to see if he was lying. Even though Aaron had omitted every important detail of what happened, he hadn't lied nor had he coated his words in half-truths or bluffs. The living lying detector, Cassandra Cain, could not see through him.

Her shoulders softened. Aaron rubbed her head and she mewled into him. "I know. You wish you could stay and talk longer but you gotta go. I understand."

"Mhm."

"Don't let my boring story at the hospital keep you. Go."

He could sense her apprehensive. After an extra minute of cuddling, however, she was satisfied. Her weight disappeared and Aaron followed her to his room. There, Orphan stood, feet on the window. She pulled her hood over, lifted her neck mask to cover her face up to her nose, and gave him a little wave. Aaron waved back. There was a grunt and some noise and she was gone.

"See ya," Aaron said to no one in particular. The silence gave him an afterthought. "Should I have asked her about whether Tiffany or Timothy were born from Lucius being unfaithful? Or about Harley and Ivy and how they invaded my workplace for the shipment zone of Dionesium?" He touched his chin. "Hm. Nah. Cass looked extremely busy and tired. Her mother and the League of Shadows must be doing some crazy stuff for her of all people to take a break. And she didn't know about my workplace being attacked either. Yeah, better not to add more to her plate."

But then came another thought. 'Should I do something? Take action? Something is clearly happening in Gotham–or maybe it's always been this way and I haven't noticed. But now that I have, I feel like I should do something. Anything.' He approached the window. There was no trail of Cassandra within the alleyways or the rooftops. He looked up at the light on the horizon of his vision.

The Bat Signal. The big, bright light of Gotham. A symbol of hope and fear. It was an open secret that the GCPD were the ones who managed it. The legality of it was questionable. From an outside perspective, from the rest of the nation, it was treasonous. Weak.

Aaron didn't see it that way. No offence to any of the other states but they had no idea how bad it was in Gotham. There was no way any regular joe could kill the Joker. The guy who escaped Arkham Asylum every other month, who could survive gunshots and laugh off stab wounds. How the hell were officers supposed to tussle with Poison Ivy, who could control everyone in a two kilometre radius? Or Clayface, a blob creature that was shotgun and explosive proof?

Weakness? The fact that Batman beat the shit out of these guys was a great thing. A strength. Before Batman, nobody messed with Gotham because the cruellest criminals were here. Now, with the advent of heroes, there was a fighting chance. Real hope.

Cassandra was his age and grew up under the brutal fist of her assassin father. Yet despite everything pushing her to kill, she resisted. She fought for her freedom. She shouldn't have known killing a person was wrong yet she did. When they talked during their five day fuckfest, he listened to how she was ten years old when she was forced to kill. She thought it was a game when her father told her to kill a target, an innocent woman by the name of Miranda Row. But when she struck and completed her objective, she said there was, "Terror and then... nothing".

The terror infected her and she ran. She kept running. Homeless, afraid, lost, until she found her way In No Man's Land protecting people. She became Batgirl and Barbara Gordon's heir.

Aaron was a normal white guy with gifts. He wasn't financially successful but he was strong, fast, and smart. He could make a difference, yet he actively chose not to. He didn't care because it had never affected him. Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Batman, they were real to many but borderline mythical to him. Before, he could ignore the darkness of Gotham and focus on living an ordinary life. Not anymore, not with the attack on Wayne Technologies and Cassandra's presence in his life. He thought about doing something now. But how? With who?

'We Are Robin.'

The flyer Robina gave him. Somehow, he had held onto it. Staring into it questioningly, the line of numbers tempting him.

Aaron wasn't intent on joining them. He had a job and hanging around a bunch of teenagers didn't sound fun. Still, he could act as a sponsor and give them some portion of his salary. For kids fighting to make change in this hell hole it was the least he could do.

Aaron took in a breath of confidence and dialled in the number. There was a beep.

"Hello?"

He heard someone breathing. "We Are Robin. How can we help you?"

Electronic, buzzed, and unrecognizable. Aaron nodded. These guys were careful.

"My name is…Aaron. I talked to Robina once. She told me to contact this number if I wanted to help you?"

The voice whose gender was blurred laughed. "Robina, eh? What's your name?"

"I'd rather not say. I'm only here to sponsor you guys?"

"Give us weapons? Money?"

"Yes."

"You serious?"

"Yes."

The buzz returned. Silence.

"Why do you wish to help us? I'm sure you've heard of the Robin Laws? Councilwoman Noctua has stopped anyone from donning the Robin costume," The voice's disposition suddenly changed. Aaron was sure this was someone else. "Our very own was implicated in the shooting of an officer and a robber. Ever since then, support for us has gone down. We're a shadow of what we once were."

"So?" Aaron said. The GCPD were the third most corrupt institution in Gotham. It wouldn't be beyond reason to assume the blame of the incident was shifted to the teenager. Someone whom they could implicate without having to take steam themselves.

"If you want to help us, prove it. You know Crime Alley? Where Martha and Thomas Wayne were shot? Meet Alt there. He'll provide you with more information." Movement and sound hummed through the phone. "If you're brave enough."

The robotic tones were the same but the indents weren't. This second person was likely Alt.

"Sure. When?"

"Tonight."

Aaron exhaled. "Sure. I'll see you there in thirty minutes."

The line cut. Aaron shrugged. What he got himself into, he didn't know. 'Might as well commit to it.'

***

Crime Alley was a ghetto street in one of Gotham's most unstable districts, Park Row. Situated between New Town (Aaron's area) and the Bowery, and bordering Amusement Mile to the east, Park Row was once Carmine Falcone's territory and later Mr. Freeze's during No Man's Land. Even before that, after the murders of Thomas and Martha Wayne, there was an infestation of crime that the GCPD simply could not clean up, hence why the terms Crime Alley and Park Row were interchangeable; there was no difference from the alley on the other side of the district or one that killed the Waynes because it was riddled with the same level of corruption and crime. It was an area surrounded by instability despite Bruce Wayne's best efforts to preserve it. The locals called it the East End where a midnight walk constituted as attempted suicide.

Aaron was stuck in New Town because it was cheap and moderately safe. Plus, to the west was Otisburg, a safe district with the Knight's Dome Sporting Complex, S.T.A.R. Labs, and his workplace. The GCPD didn't roam Otisburg like they did certain areas but there was enough economic strength that criminals didn't run rampant. People could get jobs and work like a normal person in Metropolis.

But stepping outside, going south-east towards Crime Alley was a risky journey. Aaron could sense a few nasty glares directed at him. Maybe it was his clothes, his looks, or relatively kept appearance. A sense of wealth for those on the streets to eventually rob.

Aaron pushed forward, ignoring the crumbling buildings and insects. The light of the night made it harder to see but his eyes adjusted and he eventually found the iconic street. Crime Alley was located behind the Monarch Theatre. On the cracked walls were old posters and graffiti, as well as a couple withered cars and a bouquet of flowers near the lamppost. It was in better condition than the stories suggested.

On the staircase were two strikingly dressed individuals tapping on their phones. At the harmony of his footsteps, they glanced up. In his pocket, his phone buzzed. While keeping eye contact on the pair, he picked it up.

"Is that you?"

The voice matched the lips of the boy to the right. He was tall, had a narrow face, and wore a red neck scarf. Equipped on his back was a blade and its sheath, but somehow, what managed to garner Aaron's focus was his mohawk. Though partly hidden by his maroon-coloured hood, he did actually have a mohawk where the sides of his head were shaved and a single strip of orange-red went down the centre. He lowered the phone and the second person, a girl dressed in all blue, gestured to Aaron to come.

"Hey," Aaron greeted with a small hand. "You two are Robins?"

"We are," said the red vigilante with the mohawk. Arms crossed, he looked him up and down. He frowned. "You don't look like much."

His contemporary, however, had a completely different reaction.

"Wow, you're hot. Sorry."

"Rook," the red mohawk growled.

The blue-haired woman refused to apologize and smiled at Aaron knowingly. Her skin was tanned and her hair was dyed a bright blue. Her costume was primarily blue as well but added and exemplified by yellow and orange patterns. She seemed like a nice enough young woman, unlike her delinquent partner.

"Tch! I'm Alt!" The young man pointed to himself viciously. "You wanna sponsor us? You think you got what it takes?"

Aaron tilted his head. "You were the second guy on the phone."

Alt froze. "Err…"

Their costumes were admittedly better than he expected. All those years ago when the We Are Robin craze was at its peak, they were nothing more than a ragtag group of well-meaning kids. However, looking at them now, wielding katanas and staffs, wearing metal gauntlets and belts, they were like true vigilantes.

While they had come a long way, from a single glance Aaron could tell Alt was the type to hoard attention. Make baseless irrational conclusions. His body was lean and he carried confidence, attributes necessary for a fighter. Rook was similar, a little high-strung judging by her smile, although her figure was amazing to look at. He hoped he hadn't made the wrong choice.

"I'm Aaron. It's nice to meet you." Aaron tried smoothing the situation out with a soft smile. "I remember seeing you guys on the news when I was younger. You were amazing."

"Wait, hold up–"

"Aaron," Rook called, elated. "It's good to meet you too. We Are Robin."

"Ahem! Yes, We Are Robin," repeated Alt. "The protectors of Gotham when Batman refused to. We were once great but now we have fallen. But like all birds we shall one day rise."

"He practiced that on the way," Rook commented. Aaron chuckled.

"Hey, hey!" Alt grumbled and recrossed his arms. Agitated, he glared at Aaron and said, "Look, man. We're not all games here. We're serious! You really wanna get involved with us!?"

"You guys seem like you want to make a change, so sure." Alt was taken aback by his honesty. Aaron thought it would be cool to act mysterious and edgy but now that he was here there was no need. He took something out of his pocket. Several cards made of plastic and shimmering with a certain company logo. "Here. These are Wayne Tech gift cards. They're worth about a grand."

Alt's eyes nearly popped out of his pocket. His hands shaking, he was going to take them from his hands but was beaten by Rook.

"Thank you! We'll put these to good use."

Unlike Alt who at least wore shades to cover his mask, Rook didn't bother with any facial covering. She was Japanese and young, probably in her early college years, and enthusiastic about Aaron's presence. She took the cards with great care and smiled delightfully.

Aaron gave her a thumbs-up. She gave one back. Satisfied, Aaron nodded and bid them farewell.

"W-wait, hold on, you're leaving!? Just like that?" Alt said. "Shouldn't you…I dunno, want more?"

"I'm not a spy or a Robin, I'm a sponsor. I'd rather not fight because that's not what I do."

"I-I guess that makes sense?" Alt turned quiet and looked to Rook. "We should probably tell the Nest," he said in a low whisper.

Rook nodded in agreement. Aaron wondered what the Nest was but didn't think too hard about it. Afterall, like he just said, he wasn't interested in the specifics of their operation.

"Wait, wait! Hold up, man!"

Aaron had taken five steps before Alt's obnoxious voice rang through Crime Alley. Aaron walked back, brow raised, and asked, "Is something wrong?"

"Okay, if you're gonna be honest, I'm gonna be honest." Alt shared a hesitant glance with Rook who subtly mouthed yes. He sighed and lowered his head to look Aaron in the eye. "Look. We…were expecting you to act as a decoy at the Iceberg Lounge. We thought you were going to try to prove yourself and do whatever we wanted and…yeah. We got cocky."

Aaron wanted to laugh. Instead, he squinted and said, "You guys must be new to this."

"We're not!" Alt exclaimed. "We're just really desperate right now. We need someone to sneak into the Iceberg Lounge and fish us some information. There's shit going on with the Penguin right now, everyone can sense it. He's scared. He's not doing the weird crap he usually does. Ugh, what was it that Robina said?"

"He's acting like Mr. Cobblepot, a legitimate businessman, than the Penguin," Rook said, finishing his line. "The media and streets have been quiet. His goons too."

"Yeah, yeah! Exactly!"

Indeed, though Batman and Penguin came into conflict, much of it wasn't covered by the media. If it wasn't for Cassandra opening his eyes, Aaron might have still thought him as a misunderstood businessman. Oswald Cobblepot's propaganda worked that good.

"Don't you need a special invitation to get into the Iceberg Lounge?'" Aaron pointed out. The fancy nightclubs his superiors went to certainly required invitations. "Plus, it'll be dangerous. I mean, it's the Penguin's territory. And if what you said about his goons is true, then he's probably keeping them closeby."

"Sorry," Rook said. She looked and sounded genuinely apologetic about it. Then, out of her pocket, she revealed a golden edged letter. An invitation. "Our previous leader gave this to us."

Aaron took it cautiously. Everybody seemed to be saying it: something is happening in Gotham. Something big. The overworld, the underworld, nothing seemed to be unaffected by this something.

'Is it Lady Shiva and the League of Shadows? Cass did describe her as the most dangerous woman in the world. Maybe the Penguin is scared shitless of her.' He inhaled. 'Maybe whatever the Penguin is doing is related to Cass' troubles.'

Damn it. Whenever he thought of her, he got sentimental. Maybe he was being an idiot but he might as well help these college youths. He couldn't turn a blind eye when he could help.

"Why can't you two go?" Aaron asked, wanting to weigh his options. "It's a nightclub. Hundreds of new guests come and go."

"We, er, fought the Penguin last week. It was big. We lost but we messed up a big operation of his," Alt explained. There was a tinge of pride but just as much fear and trauma.

"What he means to say is that we are wanted by the Penguin," Rook said. "Our posters are everyone. If we go into his territory, someone will immediately know: mercenaries, thugs, his goons. There's no way we can even come close to the Iceberg Lounge. None of our current Robins can."

"Alright, alright, I got it." Aaron nearly sighed. "You want me at the Iceberg Lounge, you got it."

The surprise, relief and excitement on their expressions did wonders to his confidence. 'Now I just gotta pull this off.'

***

The Iceberg Lounge overlooked Cape Carmine, the southern portion of narrow land leading into water. Still in uptown but very much isolated due to its lavishly rich populace. In Robbinsville, the legendary, glorious nightlife of Gotham shined in full effect here.

The Iceberg Lounge. The Iceberg Casino. The name didn't matter. Simply put, it was an infamous nightclub known to attract the worst. Although Oswald Cobblepot swatted away any claims of misconduct, many suspected his true intentions. Ordinary Gotham folk like Aaron, of course, didn't even know half of what he truly was. They assumed he was a simple businessman with a bit of corruption. They could have never guessed he was the Penguin, a master of the underworld. Now that he had stepped into the world of vigilantes and superheroes, Aaron looked up the lights and glamour of the icy blue structure with caution and great unease.

Hidden behind the iceberg-like structure, at the sea, were ships. Commerce and trade, legal and illegal, all in one place. He couldn't get a good look given the darkness of the night but he could see wisps.

There was a line-up of scantily dressed women and arrogant men at the Iceberg Lounge's large entrance. Aaron was still clad in his black trench coat, jeans, and a Colombina mask. An appearance somewhat out of place for someone heading into a revered nightclub.

He skipped the line, ignoring the passing gazes, and talked straight to the bouncers. There were three of them, all tall, burly, and wearing clean black suits. Seeing him, the bouncer to the left came up to push him back but Aaron raised the golden-edged invitation between his fingers. There was a flash of recognition and the bouncer muttered out an apology.

"I'd like immediate entry," Aaron said, cold but firm. "No time wasted."

The bouncer took the invitation and opened it up. There was a logo of the Penguin–a jaded silhouette of the flightless cold bird–and a signed signature. No words and no explanation was included. It was reasonable to assume it was a type of invitation that only a particular group understood.

According to the supplier of the invitation, it was supposed to be one of the Penguin's mercenary calls. He sent it out to whoever he deemed worthy to hire, which for someone of his calibre were far and between. Having ripped it from the hands of an unconscious mercenary, the supplier (the Robins' old leader who Aaron suspected to be a Bat Family member) needed someone to investigate. Apparently, the ex-leader was busy with something else, something bigger. The Robins took the mission largely out of pride, despite the fact that it would be borderline impossible for them to find out anything. That was where Aaron came in. His role was to talk to the Penguin, negotiate terms, find out what he was so afraid of, and then leave and never come back.

'If I mess this up, my life might end.'

Inspired by Cassandra, he decided to wear something cool but anonymous, a Colombina half-mask, covering the upper portion of his face. Even if he got caught, there wasn't enough information to identify him seeing as most people in Gotham had black hair and dark eyes. He could be Bruce Wayne with how little the mask showed.

The bouncer pressed on his earbud and said, "Yes, we have a 44 entry." A pause. Aaron listened carefully, focusing deeply on the earpiece. Some would say it was impossible but with enough discipline and ability it was possible to hear the tiny bluetooth.

"Do we know him?"

Because of the muffle and the fact that the voice was softly emitting from a tiny earpiece a foot away, even Aaron's keen ears couldn't identify the voice as man or woman.

"No," the bouncer replied, eyes flickering at him. Aaron, hands in his pockets, looked as cool as any criminal. "He looks the part though."

"Let em in."

Aaron wanted to let out a sigh but he felt something burning into his head. He raised his head slightly.

Above, hidden in the shadows of the highest glacier, was a man. Crouching down and observing him with a dangerous-looking red eye piece. The man, the mercenary in all likelihood, wore a dark red uniform fixed with guns and ammo, and held a sniper over his shoulder. He was getting ready. Judging, perhaps, if his intentions were pure.

'Security sure is tight,' Aaron thought, unfazed. It didn't matter who this sniper-mercenary was, they couldn't start shooting willy-nilly regardless. That was enough for Aaron to proceed inside without fear.

The nightclub was massive and flashing with lights. It was a nightclub and one of the biggest in Gotham, so of course it lived up to expectations in its extravaganza and magic. Music blared into his ears, ringing and echoing through the massive club. People were dancing, slutty women putting their hands on the men, men who grew greedy and grinded against women above their pay grade. Strippers danced around the poles and there was the occasional scream of encouragement. The dance floor was chequered with ship and aquamarine designs. To the side were tables filled with idiots and thugs.

"I'm in," Aaron whispered. The small device in his ear was adhesive and smaller than a pea, yet capable of long-range communications with the Robins. "They told me to go to 44."

"44?" Shug-R, the communications expert. She managed and coordinated most of the Robins' activities. Her appearance was unknown to him but she sounded like a polite, calculated young woman. "Oh! The Nest told us about it! It's the secret club within the Iceberg Lounge."

Aaron's eyes scanned the entire area. At the back, lodged in a large corridor was an elevator door and a single guard. That was probably it. The entrance to the secret club. The Iceberg Lounge had two floors so what was the point of an elevator unless there was something more to it? Something below perhaps.

Directly to Aaron's left was a pathway connecting to it which was distinctly highlighted by blue handrails. His eyes darted back and he noticed how the corridor led somewhere but was protected by four guards. He watched as well-dressed men and women walked the handrail-path, past the elevator, and through the guards with the flash of a VIP card. It was discreet, quiet, but something of an open secret. The Iceberg Lounge, no matter which way he looked at it, was vast, secure, and diverse in its operations. Two-stories high with nearly thirteen thousand square feet of area, the nightclub was more than just a mere nightclub. It was a restaurant, a bar, a swimming area, and a casino.

'I bet the rumoured penguins and dancing bunny girls are past that hall, through those guards.'

As much as Aaron wanted to go, it was too far and too detrimental to his mission. His destination was the elevator. Aaron took a step forward to the handrail, only to be pulled back.

"Hey there, handsome~!" a girlish, seductive voice whispered in his ear. Arms pulled back and suddenly encased between wonderfully soft melons, Aaron turned.

'Good god.'

Pale skin, platinum hair, pink eyes, a sexy bunny rabbit costume and the biggest tits he had seen in his life. There was Vicki and Harley, but this bitch here was fucking juggling melons close to the size of his head. White leggings, a white corset tightened by pink strings, luscious snowy hair going past her shoulder, and long white bunny ears with soft pink innards. In the back of his mind, Aaron knew she was likely one of Penguin's whore. A woman for the men to ogle and play with while they were here. Still, she was playing her part as a bunny girl mouth-wateringly well.

"Is there something you need?" Aaron asked without losing his cool. He made sure not to look at the canyon of her cleavage.

"You are Master Penguin's guest! I'll guide you!"

Aaron was immediately on alert. Something was wrong. Her body felt oddly electrical, constantly sending shivers down his spine.

"You must be…"

The bunny girl giggled and pulled his arm deeper into her cleavage. The soft fabric of her corset and her soft flesh, both were phenomenal and relaxing. "I am one of Master Penguin's servants. It's no biggie if you bring me as eye candy."

'This bitch is lying.' Aaron didn't mean to be derogatory but this woman was lying through the skin of her teeth. Practically every word rolling off her tongue was a lie. 'Master, biggie, me, eye candy. I sensed tremors from every word she spoke. She's lying. She's not a server here. She's a rando trying to take advantage of me to get inside the 44 Below Club.'

"Upstairs," the bunny girl pointed. "Master is usually upstairs in his private dining place. He's gone right now but if you want to wait…"

'She's searching for the Penguin and assumes I know where he is. Great. '

An arrogant smirk cracked his lips. "Hm. Prove your loyalty then."

She tilted her head, not understanding.

Aaron continued, "We both know what you do. I'm about an hour early to my appointment. You show me a good time and maybe, just maybe, I'll take you."

Momentary fireworks of conflict imploded in her dashing pink eyes. So brief that Aaron wondered if they appeared in the first place. They both knew what he was asking. She likely didn't expect it given his imposing, solemn appearance. However, doing dealings with the Penguin meant he was supposed to be a bad, bad man. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

The bunny girl flexed a wide, excited smile. "Of course, sir. Right this way."

While the first floor was inhabited for legal entertainment and low-levels, the upstairs section was reserved for those in the middle. The guards blocking the lavish stairs, however, did nothing as Aaron went up with this big-tity bunny girl. Costumed women and prostitutes were common in the Iceberg Lounge. Too common, it seemed.

The area was calm and he could hear thumps of music under his feet. There were dozens of tables and nearly a hundred rich people talking and waiting. At the left was a specially fancy dining section overlooking the entire club through a one-way window. Everything from the dance floor to the section with the giant swimming pool, the crystal iceberg statue and the penguins. Nobody batted an eye as they entered one of the empty meeting rooms, too occupied by their frivolous talk. This woman must have been quite the actor and spy because she locked the door with surprising professionalism.

"What's happening?" asked Shug-R in his earpiece.

He took the small device off and before deactivating it muttered, "Don't worry, I'm fine. Just busy. Talk later."

There was a table in the middle and soft seats at the back linking to the wall. Overall, it was small but it would make do. Aaron settled down, spread his legs to make a show, and gestured at her to come.

"Call me White Rabbit," the slutty woman said as she sat on his lap. Like him, she wore a half-mask. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned close, she whispered, "And trust me. I'm about to drain you till there's nothing left."

Aaron got chills.

Their lips crashed and their hands went wild. Aaron shoved a hand between cleavage, causing her to gasp, and he was impressed by how deep he could go. Pulling off his shirt, untying her corset, they made a silent agreement not to remove their masks. It would ruin the fun, the mystery. He could tell by the way her boobs were pressing against his chest that her efforts were half-genuine. She had an agenda, sure, but she also found herself having fun.

He shoved a hand into her panties (because that was all she had been wearing for pants) and stifled another gasp as he fiddled with her clit. Her pink eyes stared back at him almost weakened and Aaron continued fiddling with her clit until her expression broke into gentle pleasure.

Meanwhile, White Rabbit rubbed her hands all over his bulge. Definitely surprised by its size yet not deterred as she unzipped his jeans. Tongues lashing and moaning obscenely, the two of them were in unseemly sync. They separated yet still remained together by strings of their love.

"For a whore, you're pretty good," Aaron said, trying to maintain the image of a hardened criminal. White Rabbit smiled delightfully and licked up their saliva. "Ha. You're quite thirsty, aren't you? Suck my dick and maybe I'll give you more."

Smiling, she helped take off his jeans, pulling one leg and the other, before tossing it away. The massive lump through his boxers gave her pause. "Oh my. It looks like I'm not the only animal here."

Unveiling his cock was like slapping her with a check of a million dollars. White Rabbit was gobsmacked at his semi-erection, floppy yet nearly a foot-long. She swallowed her anxiety and allowed her hands to wrap around the monstrous thing. Aaron smirked at the sight of her shock. It was pure and not acted.

'Guess she isn't used to her men packing.' Aaron wanted to laugh. She definitely thought he was easy picking, probably because of his edgy outward appearance. All talk and no bite.

She stared and stared until Aaron grabbed the long furry ear and forcibly pulled her towards him. "Better get to sucking if you want to get inside."

Her eyes flashed with a powerful aura. However, considering his words, her animosity died down and she peered down at his swelling head nervously. She mustered up her courage, put herself back in her place and rid herself of her corset. Her pale white mammaries bounced out and Aaron found himself exhilarated. He copped a feel, his fingers sinking in like quick sand, and he nodded at her in satisfaction.

She grabbed her soft, pillowy flesh-mounds and swallowed his shaft with him. Despite their enormous size, a few inches of his cock still stuck out and she was forced to take it into her mouth.

White Rabbit was a master, Aaron came to realize. Up and down, she went, both with her massive titties and her mouth. She was totally in the zone and in sync, no breaks or awkward movements. Although he could see her putting her greatest efforts, it was impressive to see how trained she was. He rose to full mast and his round head poked her cheek. He could see the bulge, the way his big dick made its imprint.

Aaron groaned. He put his hand on her head and muttered, "That's it. Good."

Excited by his praise, she went faster and tried harder. Her tits were really fucking great. So soft, so pleasant, so electrical. It sent shocks up his spine. It almost felt like a superpower. Her physical ability seemed superhuman.

Then he came.

It was sudden and unprompted. There was a small burst of white and heavy throbbing. White Rabbit did her best to swallow and swallow, gulp and gulp. Her throat made vulgar gulps as she went ham on his pulsating cock. Aaron was impressed because she did exceptionally well for someone who was only half-aware of his abilities. Although a few streaks slipped down her chin, she was able to gobble up the rest of it like a greedy whore.

"Not bad." Honestly, Aaron was severely underplaying her skills. She sat there between his legs, docile and adorable. He was convinced more women should wear bunny girl outfits because of this. "Now spread your legs. I'm gonna fuck your pussy till it breaks."

White Rabbit smirked and sensually retreated to the left section. She sat down, slowly peeled her panties off, and then raised her legs with her arms, displaying her pretty cunt out for him. Aaron stood up and aligned his cock to her hole. Stretched by her volatile, shameless position, it was perfect for his big fat cock to penetrate.

"Damn, you really want this, don't you?" Aaron played up the character but also genuinely believed it. Usually, he would eat pussy or some foreplay. Not this whore. She wanted it straight from the get go.

He made sure to show her just how thick he was, his tip gliding along her labia. He could feel how soaked she was but he could also feel her stiffness. But before she could think about whether she was truly prepared or not, he plunged in. Countless inches retreating inside her and getting the White Rabbit to moan at the top of her voice.

"Ha….ha…"

She looked like she couldn't breathe. Good, Aaron thought. Her cunt was crazy tight, clamping down on him as if her life was in danger. "I bet nobody has gone this deep, huh?"

The big-titty bunny girl couldn't even offer a reply. He gave her womb a moment of space, just enough to let her catch her breath, before slamming back in. She moaned from the crux of her soul. Aaron kept going.

"W-wait–no! Nooo~! It's too deeeep! It's hitting my wooomb!"

In and out.

"Oh! Ah! Kya! Ahh~! Gah! Ah! Oooh~!"

In and out.

"I've! Never! Had! Cock! This! Deeeeeep!"

The angle, the speed. His thrusts were perfect. It was like a standing mating press, there was nothing she could do except get fucked into oblivion. Orgasm after orgasm, moan after moan. It was exhilarating to let loose a little, Aaron thought, as he moved his hips. He held onto her ankles, keeping them up as he properly drilled into her.

Her voice vibrated as she cried out, "Keeeeep fuuuuckiiiing meeeeee!"

"Wish I could but I got business to attend to. Here's my parting gift, White Rabbit."

Aaron's balls slapped her ass as he pushed himself nice and deep, then came. He pulsated and shot a dozen ropes of cum, enough to last a day. Her body shook and went into a series of tremors from his blasts of cum and her own insane climaxes. This bitch was sluttier than she looked if that was even possible. Her big tits, her thick thighs, her nice ass, even her spasms and orgasms were top-notch. His shaft was wrapped by her taut, grippy walls and he found himself wanting to go deeper and fill her up. Her pussy walls were simply phenomenal. He groaned as he let himself go, shooting off a few extra layers of cum inside.

When Aaron pulled out, she was still in that same whore-ish position except changed. Her arms shakily held up her legs, leading to her twat which was drowning in his lush white seed. Then there was her rolled back eyes and her lolled tongue. Her mask did nothing to hide her indignity–her utterly whored out expression. White Rabbit was creampied and fucked.

The door gently opened. Aaron didn't bother glancing at the intruders, too preoccupied by his work. Three women, sexy and wearing skimpy clothes, entered the room with the intent to fight. But seeing the creampied rabbit woman and the long line of cum connecting to a foot-long cock, they stopped.

"Hey, you…"

Aaron turned, uncaring of his naked form, and glancing at the three women suspiciously. The woman who called for him, who spoke in a stuck-up and bitchy fashion, was a raven-haired woman with a pixie cut. Wearing a short jacket, a bunny suit, and collar, it was clear she was an unruly but loyal henchwoman. But seeing his sway cock, the river of cum bubbling from the whore, and his picture-perfect form, she inhaled sharply and got lost in his overwhelming masculinity.

"What?" Aaron raised a brow, pretending to be agitated. Then, looking at their bodices, he said, "Are you here to entertain me too?"

"No, don't be ridiculous," chided the bunny suit woman, "I am Lark. This is Raven and Jay. We belong to the Penguin."

Lark was a stereotypical bad bitch. He didn't pay her too much attention. However, Raven and Jay caught his eye. Raven with her long black hair and magician's outfit, very much like the global sensation, Zatanna Zatara, but much less voluptuous. Jay was a cropped blonde wearing a pink-coloured attendant's outfit. Sexy and provocative were what he would use to describe the pair.

'The Penguin sure knows how to dress his women,' Aaron noted in admiration.

"Oh. Right. You three are the waitresses here. I saw you. Tell Mr. Cobblepot I'll be there in a second." It was easier to play the rule of a fuckboy mercenary than he thought. It was scarily natural. "Give him my sincerest apologies and thanks. The whores he has are great." Seeing Raven and Jay's devouring gazes, he added, "Unless one of you wants to clean my dick?"

Jay went gobsmacked while Raven seemed to seriously consider it, but of course somebody had to ruin it.

"No! No," Lark said, giving her partners a stern look. "We serve the Penguin. Okay, girls?"

"Okayyy," they drawled as they watched him pull his pants up.

Lark tapped into her earpiece. "Mr. Cobblepot, he's here. He was merely preoccupied by one of our girls."

Aaron was too busy putting on his shirt to hear the response in her earpiece. Regardless, he grabbed his own earpiece, plopped it in discreetly, and turned it on. He could hear a subtle buzz come to life.

"Finally, you're back." Shug-R sighed in relief. "Did something happen? Is the mission still a go?"

"Mhm," he replied, pretending to hum to himself. They were standing less than five metres away, he needed to be cautious and inconspicuous in his responses. Luckily, the three attendees didn't suspect a thing.

"Follow us," Raven said, smiling at him. Aaron smiled back and walked behind her. Rather than the 44 Below, the three guided him to Penguin's office. They opened the door, allowing him to step in but refusing to come in themselves. He gave Raven and Jay a small goodbye before entering.

Not too large, penguin-themed, and having a fish tank in his wall, it was everything Aaron anticipated and more. There was a fireplace, a small bar, and three comfortable sofas.

Finally, there was the big man himself.

The Penguin, melting into the chair with his own fat, cigar in his mouth, and his iconic beaked nose. Beside him was a white-haired, white-hooded man, as well as a long-haired woman who wore a black trench coat and was noticeably top-heavy. The hooded man's hand gravitated towards the gun on his thigh while the woman kept her hands behind her.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Mercenary. Forgive me, I don't believe we've met." The Penguin's voice was higher-pitched than Aaron expected.

"We haven't," Aaron confirmed.

"You must be quite capable to have defeated the Dark Archer. That invitation was intended for him, you know?"

"Is that right?" Aaron put his hands in his pockets. "I'm here for a job. Give me the details or I go back. You have some fine women."

The Penguin burst into laughter. "Great, great! Right to it! I like dat! I'm sure you recognize Lady Shiva and Orphan." He gestured to the two individuals guarding him.

It took every muscle in his body not to react. 'These are Cass' fucking parents! Right in front of me! Holy shit…'

Aaron bestowed them a nonchalant smile. The assassin Orphan, David Cain, the man in white, grunted and said, "A mercenary who allows himself to be distracted is no real mercenary."

Lady Shiva remained quiet but her piercing gaze told a thousand words. Meeting like this, it sort-of felt like one of those comedic moments in television where the boyfriend meets the girlfriend's parents and they don't like him. Except the difference was Cassandra wasn't here and her parents were professionally trained killers. The father being a six-foot-two master planner with a knack for killing and the mother the world's deadliest martial artist.

'The odds always seem to be against me.' His heart and breath were strangely steady, however. His eyes analyzed every dot and motion in their bodies and although he could tell they were doing the same it was not remotely on the same level. 'Somehow, I think I'll be fine. David Cain might be a problem with his guns but I should be able to anticipate his shots. As for Shiva, her body is too stiff. I can predict what she'll do. Probably.'

Aaron kept a cool, confident head. He didn't rise to David's provocation either and replied cheekily, "Your loss. Now, Penguin, what's this you've been cooking up? Dark Archer refused to tell much before he popped."

The Penguin adjusted his monocle. "If Dark Archer was here, I'd be a little more trusting. He has a reputation and a face, unlike you." Aaron felt a flash of light in his eyes. Again, he didn't react. He remained still as the beam of light went up and down his face. Scanning, searching, analyzing.

'He's doing that monocle test thing like in that old movie, Witness for the Prosecution.' Great. He was thinking about a movie he watched in his high school law class. Were his nerves getting to him?

The light stopped moving and stayed on his eyebrow as the Penguin asked, "So he's dead?"

"Probably. There's a small chance he lived. I threw him off a skyscraper."

Aaron knew how to pass the theatrical test which was by not losing his composure at all. The Penguin put an elbow on the table, smirking. The light of the monocle disappeared.

"Good. I don't mind mercenaries fighting and letting the better one work under me but I'd still like to keep my options open." The Penguin spun on his chair, staring at the built-in aquarium. Ice gripped the edges of encasement while the fishes moved peacefully in the waters.

"Ya know, in the religion of organized crime, I'm the indisputable prophet. I've been usurped by Black Mask, Red Hood, even my own lieutenant. Yet still I've remained, as legendary and alive as Batman and the Joker. Now I ain't as crazy as those two. I don't go to Arkham Asylum when I get caught, I go to the big-boy jails, see? I'm a mobster, pure and simple." His tone went dark. "If I catch a whiff of betrayal, I won't kill you. I'll destroy you and everyone you know. I'll show you why the ordinary fear me. I'll deport your family, take your children, I'll do anything against those who double-cross me. Understand?"

"And yet you need my services."

The Penguin's chair rolled him back around. The nasty look on his face made Aaron reconsider picking the arrogant mercenary persona. "Don't get ahead of yourself, mercenary. I need protection, nothing more. I'm willing to pay seven figures for it as long as you're capable."

He saw David Cain moving. In a swift, practised motion, the older man took out a pistol and shot him. BANG! The explosive sound hammered into his ear and Aaron was barely able to tilt his head in time. Shock immediately painted David's face. He saw the same flicker of emotions on Shiva.

'Holy shit!' Aaron was pretending not to be aghast, trying to be calm and cool when he wasn't. His heart refused to flutter. 'He just tried to fucking shoot at me! Is he nuts!?'

"Everyone thinks they'll be the one to defeat me." Aaron rolled his eyes and nonchalantly sat on the chair, clenched fists in his pockets. "But no one's beat me yet. Good try though, David Cain."

The man wore a white hood and a gas mask yet Aaron could sense his confusion through his blue eyes. "Who are you?"

"Doesn't matter. I have a pretty good guess as to what you want." Aaron was bluffing, he had no fucking clue. He made an exaggerated sigh and shrugged. "But I suppose it's none of my business, Penguin."

"Hold on, what're you doing?" Shug-R asked, the communicator in his ear rising to life. "Ask him, make a deal, then never come back again. That's the plan."

'Yeah, right,' Aaron responded in his head. 'The Penguin is too careful to do something stupid like that. There's a reason he's been the kingpin of crime in Gotham. He knows to keep his cards close to his chest.'

He needed him to slip up. To do that, Aaron would need to reveal a card of his own.

The Penguin scoffed. "How could you possibly know?"

Aaron glanced at Shiva and smirked. "The League of Assassins, Poison Ivy, Harley. Everybody seems to be interested in metals all of a sudden, aren't they?" Judging by the sudden clamp in facial emotions, he was correct. Aaron clicked his tongue. "Like I said, I don't care."

David Cain had his gun trained on him, cautiously approaching him. "Who are you? Do you work for Waller?"

Who?

"If I worked for Waller, you would all be dead."

A point was made apparently.

"Hn. He's right, you know," the Penguin conceded. "Orphan, down."

His gaze flickered but eventually the rogue mercenary relented. He did not return to Penguin's side, however, preferring to lean on the desk to stare at Aaron plainly. He was deconstructing him to every last article of clothing.

"Alright, alright." The Penguin sighed. "I'll tell ya. It may be a gamble but…well…"

"Cobblepot," Shiva growled. He cast her a half-assed apologetic look.

"I need people right now and no offence you and I ain't on the best of terms. It's a peace treaty at best between the two of us," the Penguin responded. Sighing again, he began, "Dionesium, Electrum, Nth Metal, and Promethium. There was a bunch of shit going on with the Bat and the Justice League when it came to these supernatural metals. Real apocalyptic shit. Then, the Court of Owls–they're gone now–discovered something they call Batmanium. Yes, it's named after the Bat, sue me. But according to the League of Assassins, these metals are divine. You can become god if you're able to harness the power of these metals. Create infinite energy, mold whatever superweapon you want, achieve immortality or endless wealth."

"The power of the five divine metals are largely unknown to us," Lady Shiva said, cutting him off. "History has seen facets of its power but never its full scope–until the present. The Justice League and Batman; they know the truth. However, instead of using these metals and resources to lead humanity in a meaningful way, to better individuals, they say nothing. They refuse to share the knowledge we seek. The metals whose existence is ancient and written in stone from when the Earth was young. The Court of Owls possessed a portion of that ancient knowledge, as did my League of Assassins. Immortality and endless energy. That is what we know so far. The divine metals are the ability to create and destroy."

"I enlisted the help of Harley and Ivy," the Penguin said. "They're old pals of mine, see, but they eventually found out too much and now Ivy wants to find one of the metals to bolster her powers. Hah! That woman is already too powerful for my liking!"

'Dionesium,' Aaron connected. 'That's the metal Ivy is after.'

"But still, the League of Assassins and the Penguin. An intriguing combination. Less work for me, I suppose." Aaron chuckled. "Sign me up. Give me the contract and ten percent and I'll join."

"You drive a hard bargain. Deal." The Penguin delved into a fit of laughter. "Well, assuming Batman doesn't kick your shit in. Which he likely will. The profits will be mine in the end."

"We'll see about that."

Aaron signed the contract, talked and joked with the Penguin, then left. He told them he was going to grab his stuff and return, which the three seemed to believe. They didn't realize or suspect in the slightest that he was a fraud hoping to never come back here again. Aaron would have laughed if not for the countless gazes watching him. It took nearly thirty minutes of running and breaking into alleyways in order to escape Penguin's followers. Eventually, he found himself inside a telephone booth.

"Alright, I'm out of the Iceberg Lounge. I escaped the Penguin's men too," Aaron said into his earpiece. "Did you catch everything?"

"Yes, we did," Shug-R replied. The hum of the earpiece lingered, "Thank you. We owe you a lot."

"No problem." Aaron waved off. "I'm gonna go home now unless you have something else for me."

"Nah, we don't." It was Alt but he sounded sober and genuine. "Thank you, man. We will put this information to great use, we promise you that."

"Yes." Shug-R, usually reserved, spoke with a hint of pride. "With the help of the Nest, we'll be able to get to the bottom of this. It's all because of you that we were able to get this far. Thank you!"