Batgirl's Big Night (A Stuffing Story)

[DrywallDryad]

Loosely based on the version of Batgirl from 'The Batman' (although the Riddler comes off more like the Arkham Asylum/City version).  Takes place in no particular continuity, though.  Hope you enjoy!

BATGIRL'S BIG NIGHT

They were just sitting down to dinner when her father's phone rang. 

"Hello?... Yes, this is Gordon... What?  Again?... Well, which way was he headed?  All right, I'll be there in fifteen.  And you'd better go ahead and put the signal on."  James Gordon snapped the phone shut and picked his coat off the chair where he'd hung it not an hour before.

"Oh, not again, Dad," Barbara sighed.  "They've called you in every night this week!"

"Afraid so," Gordon said, shrugging on the coat.  "Edward Nygma broke out of Arkham twenty minutes ago."

"The Riddler?  Batman can handle him without breaking a sweat."

"Maybe, but I'd still better--"

"Dad.  You're exhausted.  Please, just take tonight off.  Watch some TV.  Read a book.  And get some sleep!"

"Well..."  She could tell he was considering it.  After four nights of slouching home at dawn to grab what amount to little more than a nap, it had to be more than a little tempting. 

"You know he probably won't make his move tonight, anyway.  I mean, he needs time to set up whatever sick little game he's got planned this time, right?" she reasoned.  "And when he does, the department will need you to be rested enough to catch him!"

"You may be right," Gordon mused.  "You do have a uncanny grasp of the way these supervillains think sometimes."

Barbara grinned.  "I guess that comes from spending so much time around someone whose job it is to catch them."

"All right.  You've talked me into it."  Gordon sat back down.  "I'll put Montoya in charge of the hunt for tonight, and you and I can enjoy this delicious carbonara--"

But Barbara was already standing up.  "Uh, you enjoy it, Dad.  I just remembered I've got a paper due tomorrow."

"You know, you've been working pretty hard yourself, lately.  At least have dinner first!"

"Maybe later!" Barbara called down to him as she dashed up the stairs.  "I do my best work on an empty stomach!  Oh, and Dad--"

"I know, I know, 'do not disturb'."

"You've got it."

"All right.  I know how much you like your privacy.  I'll be down here, trying not to think about the Riddler."  Concern flashed across his face.  "You really think he won't make his move tonight?"

"Not the best job of not thinking about him, Dad."  Barbara turned and grinned at him.  "Relax.  If he does pull something, Batman will be ready for him.  He's always ready for anything."

Which is not to say, she thought to herself a few minutes later, as she climbed out her bedroom window in her familiar grey-and-black costume, that he can't use a little hand...

-------

"So, any bites?" 

The darkly cowled figure turned.  "Batgirl.  No, nothing yet."  He gestured off the rooftop, across a sea of churned mud, to the distant walls of Arkham Asylum.  Floodlights lits the grounds, and the escape sirens still wailed their mournful dirge of failure. 

"It was easy enough to track Nygma as far as the outer guard post," Batman explained.  "Then the trail just vanishes.  I've run traces on his DNA, commonly used products, even checked for particles of Arkham soil--nothing."

"No eyewitnesses?"

Batman shook his head.  "None that saw anything.  Living close to Arkham trains you to keep your head down."

"Darn."  Batgirl snapped her fingers.  "So what next?"

"I'll continue sweeping the area, but it doesn't look good.  We may have to wait until Nygma shows himself.  I'll stay active in this area tonight, in case one of the others decides to try for a breakout in the confusion."

"I guess I'll patrol the perimeter--" Batgirl began.  Her stomach gurgled audibly.

"Skip dinner?" Batman asked.  Something in his voice told her that one eyebrow was raised under that cowl.

"Yeah," she said, blushing.  "Hey, it's no fun jumping from rooftop to rooftop on a full stomach."

"Go home and get something to eat.  I'll call if I need you."

"I can handle a few hunger pangs.  If the Riddler tries something--"

"The odds are he'll lay low for tonight.  He's still relishing his escape -- his mental triumph over Arkham security."  Batman frowned.  "And me.  It will take time before he feels the need to assert his superiority.  When that time comes, I'll need you rested and in good condition."

"Where have I heard this before?" Batgirl asked wryly.  "All right.  If you need me, I'll be having a light dinner."

--------

Batgirl accepted the brown paper sack stuffed with steaming fast food.    The local Chuckle Burger was been having another help-us-stay-in-business sale--for some reason, nobody in Gotham wanted to buy food from a clown--and she'd ended up ordering a triple cheeseburger with extra-large fries, a soda, a shake, and a box of Chuckle Nuggets. 

"Wow, wait'll I tell my friends Batgirl came to the drive-through!" the pimply teenager at the window said.  "And she was even hotter in person!"

"Thanks," she said, flashing him a smile.

"And she eats, like, way more than I would have guessed, like, ever!"

Her smile dropped.  "Hey, it's a strenuous job.  Besides, I'm -- I'm getting this to share with Batman."  She eyed the bulging sack perched on the handlebars of her Bat-cycle.  "And, uh, Robin."

-------

Mmm, Barbara though, biting through six layers of meat and cheese.  Soooo good.   

She'd been so hungry she hadn't even bothered to do more than take her cowl off before digging in.  She spread the food out on her desk.  She really had got a disgusting amount.  Coach would tear me a new one if she caught me eating like this, she thought.  Oh well, what she doesn't know...

And it wasn't like she wasn't going to burn off the calories.  It really did take a lot of energy to run around on those rooftops.  She popped a Chuckle Nugget into her mouth and washed it down with a sip of soda.

Soon she was feeling pleasantly full of the forbidden fruit of grease and starch.  Whew, she thought, unbuckling her utility belt.  She carefully wrapped the remaining half of her cheeseburger.  Guess my eyes were bigger than my stomach.  I can finish off the rest for breakfast.

Suddenly, she heard one of the stairs creak.  Someone was coming up to her room.

Dad?, she thought.  But he was asleep!  She looked down at herself in dread.  If he walks in on me dressed like Batgirl...!

She was already half out of the costume when she heard the soft knock on the door.  "Barb, honey?  Sorry to disturb you when you're working.  Can I come in?"

"N-not yet!" Barbara said frantically.  "I'm--I'm just getting changed!"  She practically lept into her pajamas, then stuffed the Batgirl costume into a drawer.  There, perfect--oh, no!

Her desk was still covered with the remains of dinner.  If her father came in now, he'd know she'd been out.  She had to get rid of the food, quick.

"Barbara?"

"Juff a minuff!" she called back, cheeks bulging with cheeseburger.  She was starting to feel sick, but she forced herself  to stuff down the rest of the greasy lump, almost swallowing the last few bites whole.  She drained the shake in a few gigantic gulps, wincing at the brain freeze, and then guzzled the last of the soda.  Then she hastily rubbed a napkin across her face, making sure to get every spot of grease and ketchup, and jammed the whole mess of wrappers deep into the wastebasket, under a few wadded up papers.

What if he checks the trash?, she thought desperately.  She moved an empty tampon box so it was sitting prominently on top.  There, that'll keep him out.

She sat down heavily on the bed, feeling bloated.  Her stomach sloshed with cold liquid, and in the middle of it, resting on the bottom of  Lake Soda like an ancient shipwreck, lay a heavy ball of salt and fat.  Ugh.  Tomorrow I'm hitting the gym.

After one last check of the room, she slipped under the covers.  "Okay, Dad, come -- urrrrp!"

"What was that?"

"I said, come in!  Come in!"  She could feel her face flushing.

Commissioner Gordon poked his head in the door.  "Oh.  I didn't realize you were sleeping."

"About to--I just finished my paper.  I thought you were asleep."

"I dozed off for a couple of hours.  I noticed you haven't touched dinner yet, so I warmed some up for you."  He entered the room with a tray bearing a healthy portion of carbonara and a pair of breadsticks and set it down on the bed.

Barbara recoiled.  "Oh--yeah, I wasn't really hungry, so..."

"Barb, it's not healthy to skip meals."  He looked at her with concern.  "You're not -- I mean -- well, I saw this special about eating disorders..."

"DAD!  I'm fine!  I'm not anorexic!"  She took a tiny nibble from one of the noodles.

"It's just that gynastics can be so demanding, and I know there's a lot of pressure on teenage girls to be thin, and I hope you know that you don't have to starve yourself.  You're already in great shape."

Under the sheets, Barbara rubbed a hand across her distended stomach.    Most of the time, anyway.

Well, she couldn't let him worry.  And confessing to sneaking out was just not an option.  So that left only one thing to do.

Sorry, stomach, Barbara thought with a gulp.  It looks like you're taking one for the Bat-Family.

It really wasn't so bad, at least not for the first few bites; her father was an excellent cook.  But even the best cooking in the world couldn't get around simple physics, and the fact of the matter was that Barbara's stomach was already painfully full.  She ate mechanically, bite after bite, all the while trying to keep up a cheerful, lighthearted facade for her father.  So he wouldn't worry.  So he wouldn't get suspicious. 

"Mmm," Barbara said, licking her lips as she wiped up the last of the sauce with the last of the second breakstick.  "That was--that was--really great."

"I could go down and grab seconds, if you--"

"NO!" Barbara said, horrified.  "I--I mean--no, thank you.  I am stuffed!"

At least that was one thing she didn't have to lie about. 

"Okay.  Goodnight, honey."

"'Night, Dad."

As sooner as he was gone, Barbara dropped her cheerful act and flopped back onto her pillow.  Her poor abused stomach, crammed fuller than it had ever been in her life, was screaming at her, rippling with pain and nausea.  It would have been churning, if it hadn't been packed too full even to churn.

This must be what people mean by 'stuffed to the gills', Barbara realized.  I've actually so stuffed that it feels like I'm full up right to my neck.  Blerrgh.

She felt like a beached whale.  Maybe if I lie here for about a week I'll be able to move again...

Lethargic with overfeeding, Barbara was just about to doze off into a food coma, but her sharp ears caught the sound of a voice from below.  Her father was on the phone again.  She couldn't make out every word, but what she did hear made her overloaded stomach sink.

"You're sure?  Not a copycat? ... Well, has anyone figured it out, yet? ... Yes, of course, let Batman see it.  I'll be right there."

A riddle, Barbara thought with a groan. The police received a riddle.  That means--oh, please no.  Not tonight.  Not now!

From the nightstand, her phone jangled merrily.  She had a text.

R IN PLAY AFTER ALL.  MEET ME.  -B.

She stared down at it.  This was not a good night for heroics.  But what was she supposed to send back?  "Sorry, can't defend the city tonight, I ate too much and I have a tummyache?"  He'd lose all respect for her. 

Reluctantly, she texted back.

ON MY WAY.  -B.

-----------

"But," Barbara muttered as she struggled into her costume, "I might be a little late." 

It just wasn't fair that the leggings were tight.  Why were the leggings tight?  All that liquid on top of all that salt, she decided.  It was like a formula for bloating.

At least they were easier to get on than her utility belt.  Not matter how she tugged and strained, no matter how horizontal she got or how far she sucked in her stomach (not that she could suck it in very far at the moment), she kept coming up several inches short.    Miserably, she looked down at the taut, round bulge of her abdomen.  There was the buckle, lying on the east slope, and the insert, lying on the west slope, and never the twain had any hope of meeting with Mount Barbara in the way.

"Come on," Barbara grunted, pulling the ends together, "come onnnnn..."

She actually got the insert partly into the bucket before she had to give up in frustration.  Darn it!  My stupid stomach's just too big!

And then a flash of insight came to her.  If you can't go over a mountain--you go around!  And after another titanic struggle, she managed to get her utility belt to snap together by detouring it beneath the curve of her stomach.  Whew.  There.

She stood up and examined herself in the mirror.  The way she'd handled the situation worked, sure, but it just drew attention to how round her belly was.  Yikes, she thought in shocked surprise, I look like I've got a bun in the Batcave!  

The costume was clingy everywhere else, too.  She felt like a stuffed sausage in an ill-fitting casing.  She sighed.  Not exactly my proudest moment.  At least it'll be dark.

Batgirl climbed out of the window, the low curve of her belly scraping uncomfortably against the sill, and dropped clumsily to the ground, missing her footing and dropping to one knee.  Her stomach rebelled at the sudden jolt.  She clamped her mouth shut to keep from vomiting.

She'd been right about one thing--running across rooftops was not going to be fun on a full stomach.

[DrywallDryad]

Two dark figures met on the roof of the GCPD, in the shadows of the great searchlight which threw the image of a bat onto the gray clouds.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming,"  Batman said.

"Uh, traffic," Batgirl said hastily, stifling a belch.

"Are you all right?  You sound--winded." 

"I'm fine!  What's the word on the Riddler?"

Batman held out a sheet of paper.  Pasted on it was a crazy-quilt of cut-out letters from magazines and headlines.

At the intersection where you get Pie,

I've hidden a present for you,

Find it or don't, but if not, some will die,

In the shade of a jester in blue.

"I was wrong," Batman continued, a bitter edge to his voice.  "Nygma had this set up and ready to go from the very beginning."

"Don't worry about it," Batgirl said.  "He got me too.  So, any ideas?"

"Aside from the obvious?"

"The old abandoned pie factory?"  Batgirl looked skeptical.  "The 'jester' part fits--the Joker's holed up there a couple of times--and it is on a corner, I guess.  But it seems too ... I dunno, like you said.  It's obvious."

"Agreed."  Batman stroked his chin thoughtfully.  "There's got to be more to it."

Suddenly, Batgirl lit up.  "Third Street and Fourteenth Avenue!"

"What?"

"3 and 14.  Put them together and it's 'the intersection where you get Pi'."

Batman nodded grimly.  "I think you might be on to something, there.  I'll check it out.  You swing by the pie factory, just in case.  I want all our bases covered."

Batgirl's stomach lurched.  "Uh--how about you check out the pie factory, okay?  I'm--not in the mood for pie tonight."  She gave him a crooked smile, trying to make it look like she was joking.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure."

"All right.  Stay in contact, and let me know the second you see anything."

Batgirl was already feeling better by the time she got back to her ride.  Sure, she was still gorged, but enough of the food had moved on to her intestines that she didn't feel like she was on the verge of bursting any more.  It made a difference.

And at least I'm not going to a pie factory, she thought.  She definitely didn't want to risk getting anywhere near a pie-related trap tonight!  Whatever was on the corner of Third and Fourteenth had to be an improvement. 

Okay, I'm getting close now.  Got to be somewhere around here.  Look for a 'jester in blue'.  Wait--don't I know this neighborhood?  Is this--no.  No.  NO!

"Welcome to Chuckle Burger," said the tinny loudspeaker within the mouth of the fiberglass clown.  "Can I take your order?"

------

"I don't understand--look, you can't just--" the manager stammered.

"There's no time!  If there's a basement, a storage area, anything out of the way, you need to show me, now!"  Batgirl clapped her hands for attention.  "Everyone else, please leave.  There's--"

If I tell them there might be a bomb, I could cause a panic!

"-- there's rat meat in the burgers.  We're shutting the place down."

The guy at the drive-through nudged one of the other workers.  "Dude, see?  I told you Batgirl was here before."

"That's not Batgirl, dumbass.  Batgirl isn't a health inspector.  And since when does Batgirl have a gut?"  He probably thought he was being quiet, but Barbara's keen ears picked up every word.  She pulled her cape in front of her stomach.

"Everyone out!  Employees too!"

"Look, fine, there's a maintenance area under the Chuckles statue," the manager said hurriedly.  "Go do whatever you want down there, you psychopath!"

Thirty seconds later, Barbara was squeezing herself through a small (ugh) metal hatch and dropping into a dark room.  Metal grates covered the floor, about six inches above what looked like a layer of solar tiles.  In the center of the room, sitting on top of a small ziggurat made of soda cans, was a bomb.

Suddenly, the hatch slammed shut behind her and the room lit up.  The blank digital readout on the face of the bomb flickered, and 8:00 showed on the readout.  Then 7:59.  7:58.

"Greetings, Dark Knight.    The bomb in front of you can be disarmed, but of course, you'll need the correct code.  I'm sure you've got a thirst for the knowledge of just what that code might be, but you'll just have to get to the bottom of things to find out!"

Batgirl put a hand to her earpiece.  "Batman, I'm at the Chuckle Burger on 3rd and 14th.   There's a bomb here."

"I'm already heading back.  I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Not soon enough."  She bit her lip.  "I'll have to solve this one myself."

Hmm.  Codes.  Thirsty.  Get to the bottom of things....

She didn't like where it was going, but the answer was too obvious.  Especially when she noticed the green question marks drawn all over the soda cans.

"Good grammar or not, I think I liked Dr Pepper better without the punctuation," she muttered, picking up a can and popping the top.  Suddenly she brightened.  Nobody said she had to drink the soda to check on the bottom.  She could just pour it out!  She tipped the can--

An angry blast of electricity crackled as the liquid dribbled onto the glowing tiles.  The lights flickered, and when they came back on, the countdown had jumped by over a minute. 

Darn, Batgirl thought.  I guess I don't have a choice.  I just hope I find this code soon, or I'm going to blow up anyway!

She guzzled the first can and peered in.

YOU'RE A BAT-LOSER!  PLAY AGAIN!

"Didn't really expect it to be that easy," she shrugged, popping another.  Another loser.  And another after that.  And one more, though she was so full she almost choked on it.

She was brimming with liquid now, her stomach distended like an overfilled water balloon, but she didn't dare spill a drop.  Three minutes left now.  Another can down.  And another. 

She thumped her chest and belched, a long, low, rattling blast of carbon dioxide. 

"Batgirl?  What's going--"

"I'm fine!" she gasped.  "I'm okay!," no, I'm not okay, I'm not fine, I'm going to pop, HELP!

Less than a minute left now, and two cans.  She knew she couldn't possibility drink more than one more.  Which one was it?  Hesitating wouldn't get her anywhere, she knew that.  She grabbed the one on the left, popped the top, and sucked it down like her life depended on it, which it did.

One more drop and I'll explode!  Please, let this be the right one!  Please, please, please! she begged, tilting the empty can. 

YOU WIN... THIS TIME!  CODE : BTMNSUX

Groaning, she bent down as well as she could and tapped in the code.  The timer stopped with nine seconds to spare.  The red glow of the readout faded, the room went dark, and Batgirl slumped to the ground, surrounded by empties and wondering if it was possible to die from a Dr Pepper overdose.

-------

She came to in Batman's muscular arms as he lifted her out of the dark bowels of the ground and into a world of noise and light.  The blue and red of police lights mixed with the flash of cameras as the dark knight carried her across the close-cropped lawn.

"It's okay," Batman said.  "You did it.  It's over."

"Ugh.  I have to pee."  She squirmed against him.  "Bad."

"I'll take you inside."

"Don't -- don't let them take photos of me like this, okay?" she said.  "It's embarrassing.  I'm so bloated."

"I've got your cloak over your middle.  Nobody can tell."  He leaned in and whispered.  "You did an excellent job, Barbara."

She smiled faintly.  "Th-thanks."

"There's just one thing I don't get."

"What's that?"

"Well," Batman continued, "once the first can was empty, why didn't you just pour the next can into that one, and so on?"

Batgirl's eyes snapped open.  "Oh, son of a--"

THE END

[whalensmithers]

Amazing work! Do you do any more stuffing stories?

[riptoryx]

Cute, cleverly done, and hot!  :thumbsup:  I'd certainly be interested in seeing more of this, or even just in this vein. 

[nobody213]

Amazing work! Do you do any more stuffing stories?

http://www.writing.com/main/interact/item_id/1878117-Avatar---Female-Weight-Gain-Interactive

[ComedicRelief]

excellent, well done, i enjoyed reading that alot

[Jay Rock]

That was insanely good--clear and well written, it felt like a legitimate story from the comics with a twist.