WeaponA

Chapter 5: Hey there, Piglet 🐷 — Happy Halloween! The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. Sounds like you aren’t able to make it to the party (total bummer, fr), and we all thought you’d be lonely without something to stuff in your fat face, so here you go! All your favorite donuts, cake, cupcakes… Only one bakery’s worth, though. Addie says you’re on a diet. Good for you, Jelly Belly! I’m so sure that it’ll last more than, oh, 5 minutes. Anyway, we now hopefully don’t have to worry about your enormous stomach drowning out the music from halfway across town! See you at rehearsal tomorrow, assuming you’re not too full… That’d be a real shame, so make sure you DON’T eat all of this tonight! 😁 –Your Devoted Understudy, Lesley P.S. Who am I kidding? Your mouth is probably already full. Cassandra had always been a very light sleeper, snapping to full alertness at a moment’s notice. Sometimes, in the course of her training, the gap between fitful slumber and aggressive combat had been mere tenths of a second, and those hard-won instincts weren’t going anywhere soon. So, when her peaceful dozing was disrupted by a poke to the shoulder, Cassandra reflexively leaped to her feet and hurled a crisp roundhouse kick at her unlucky assailant. Well, she tried, anyway. Instead of springing from the bed, Cassandra rocked awkwardly forward, flopped backward onto the mattress, and felt her kick swing ineffectually through the air, well short of her wide-eyed, tangle-haired target. “Cass, it’s me!” Stephanie took a step back to stand beside the door, holding a plastic broom by the bristles – apparently, she had used it to poke Cassandra awake. “Steph, what’re you doing?” Cassandra mumbled. “Could’ve given you a concussion…” “You weren’t waking up,” Steph said defensively, still staring and also vibrating strangely. “And I don’t think you’re gonna be giving anyone concussions with a kick like… like… What the hell happened to you, Cassandra?” Cass’s eyes widened. “What do you–” She glanced down, and her jaw dropped. Her aborted leap had left her in a tangle of chocolate-smeared bedsheets and dozens of empty cupcake wrappers, but underneath all of that, she saw what appeared to be a mountain of black, tightly stretched fabric… and it was swelling and shrinking in time with her own breathing. Cassandra’s eyes bugged. “Steph, uh… What happened to me?” “You tell me!” Stephanie’s voice squeaked. “It was almost time for class, and I hadn’t seen you all morning, so I came in here and saw you lying there like… like THAT!” She ran over, grabbing Cassandra’s wrist and placing a hand on her forehead. “Oh God, you’re covered in chocolate… Maybe it’s some kind of freak allergic reaction? Temperature seems fine, pulse is okay… You’re not breaking out… Can you breathe?” “Yeah.” Cass nodded. “Okay, good.” Stephanie bit her lip. “Can you stand up?” “Sure,” Cassandra replied confidently, and she tried… only to flop back onto the bed with a surprised grunt. “Here, let me help.” Stephanie grabbed Cassandra’s pudgy hands and pulled with all of her might, and with some additional effort on Cass’s part, they were able to get the silent Batgirl on her feet. Twisting to get a better look at herself, Cassandra found that her entire body had inflated like a balloon. Her breasts stuck out like melons, but they couldn’t hope to compete with her stomach, which was more like a prize-winning pumpkin. Her butt was nearly as wide as her bed, sticking out like a shelf behind her. “I don’t get it.” Stephanie shook her head numbly, then began pacing and muttering. “You’re absolutely gigantic, but nothing else seems to be going on with you. You just… just… got fat overnight!” “Steph…” “I mean, I thought you were pretty fat before, but this is a whole other level. You’re freaking FAT—” “Steph!” She paused. “What?” “Can we just find a…” Cass fidgeted, shifting her bulk and feeling a bit unsteady, her unfamiliar weight threatening to unbalance her every time she moved in a different direction. “...a different word…” “Like what?” Stephanie cocked an eyebrow, hands on her hips. “Something more–” She tried to remember the phrase she’d heard on TV. “More body-positive…” “Stay off the internet, Cassandra. Also, I’m being extremely positive! I’m positive that you are fat as f–” “Okay!” Cassandra threw up her hands, scowling. “Fine, I’m fat. Let’s find a way to change me back. How do you think it happened?” “Well, you’re surrounded by cupcake wrappers…” “Right. Magic. I hate magic…” “Yeah, those sneaky leprechauns. Making it so that being a total glutton and eating obscene amounts of junk food turns you fat…” Stephanie rolled her eyes. “It must be, though.” Cass crossed her arms. “Too much weight for one night, even if I got a little carried away.” “A little carried away? Cassandra, there is frosting on your back–” “Okay, well… It still doesn’t add up.” “You’re right. Let’s check the math.” Stephanie cocked an eyebrow. Cassandra’s throat dried up. “What do you mean?” “I’ve got a bathroom scale. C’mon.” Stephanie smirked dangerously, then turned to exit the room. “We’ve gotta assess the magnitude of the issue, including measurements so I can get you some new clothes.” “Measurements?” Cass groaned, stumbling after her and feeling like she was wearing a water bed. Her entire body jiggled with every awkward step, and she felt like she was moving through molasses. She felt astonishingly heavy, as if she’d just fought Bronze Tiger, Richard Dragon, and Lady Shiva in quick succession. She trembled at the notion that she might become winded walking across their small apartment, but surely that was absurd… She was sure she’d seen people who were even fatter than she was now, walking around with only some minor redness and puffing. She just needed to get used to– No! Cass rebuked herself. She wasn’t going to need to get used to anything. They were going to fix this. They’d find a wizard somewhere. She would exercise! Diet! Well, definitely exercise, at least… Her stomach rumbled pitifully. Following Stephanie into the bathroom, Cassandra got a good look at herself in the mirror and felt like she was looking at a stranger who’d stolen her costume… and her hair… and her face… Not really a stranger, then. More like an estranged twin. An estranged twin who just happened to be extremely fat. Gripping the soft bulge of her stomach as if to test whether it was real, Cass glumly eyed her reflection in all its rotund glory. She couldn’t even see her utility belt beneath the avalanche of her waist, which had burst free of her Batgirl uniform and wobbled lazily below her waistband as she struggled to loosen her clothing. She may not have been able to see the belt, but she could sure as hell feel it… Cassandra put a hand to her soft face, which was as round as an apple and almost as red, seemingly bulging with more extra weight than she’d once had in her entire body. Her cheeks were wide and plump, burying any trace of her cheekbones, while her jawline was only discernible because it put a small crease in her double chin. She heard a distant thud as Stephanie dropped the scale on the bathroom floor and straightened, standing tall and obnoxiously slender compared to her butterball of a roommate. Cassandra never thought she’d see the day she’d be envious of Stephanie’s abs, but they were better than nothing… or rather, better than all of the “something” bulging in front of her like the hood of a Chevy. “Hey, Cassie, you in there?” Stephanie waved a hand in front of Cassandra’s face. It was a nice-looking hand, Cass reflected, unlike her own, which was now as fat as a toddler’s, with dimples where her knuckles used to be. “Huh?” Cass looked blankly at her friend, who still had the gall to possess linear facial features and discernible bone structure rather than a pudgy pancake with squinting eyes and a tiny mouth. “C’mon, Tubby, get on the scale already.” Stephanie gave Cassandra an encouraging smack on her enormous rump. Cassandra jumped slightly, and the bathroom shook in response. Her reflection, meanwhile, jiggled in the mirror like a mountain of black jelly, her skintight spandex exposing every gelatinous ripple. So focused on the tub of lard in the mirror, she hadn’t noticed Stephanie’s movement, leaving her in the rare position of receiving an (admittedly light) strike… but in her current state, would she have been able to avoid it even if she had seen it coming? Was she still quick enough? As a test, Cassandra turned to smack Stephanie’s rear, which she was pleased to see wobbled at least a little, though the other girl’s jump caused far less of an earthquake. “Hey!” Steph scowled at her. Cassandra crossed her arms. “You first.” “Why?” “It’s only fair.” “Whatever, you little gremlin.” Stephanie rolled her eyes and stepped onto the scale. “Be sure to get your yuks in quick, though, because your fat ass is next.” The scale beeped. 150 pounds. “That’s 40 pounds more than me,” Cass felt obligated to blurt out, to savor some brief taste of delusional, honey-sweet pride before the scale shoved an entire, sugar-free humble pie down her fat throat. “Maybe three months ago.” Stephanie lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. “Let’s see where you’re at now.” Cassandra swallowed. “Do we have to? I know I’m fat. Very fat. Fattest girl in our class.” She blushed but took a deep breath and kept going, turning her pleading eyes up toward Stephanie. “Fine, I’ll admit it. I’m probably the fattest girl in the whole school, the whole town, the whole state–” “Talk won’t save you this time, Chatterbox.” Stephanie grabbed her arm, towing Cass over to the scale. “You know Bruce is going to want the specific details.” Cassandra’s eyes widened. “Steph, do we have to–” “Yes, Cass, we have to tell Bruce! What are we supposed to do when he calls up and wants your help taking down Killer Croc’s new gang or something – tell him you’re too busy studying for an exam?” “Maybe we can fix it before that happens.” “Look, Champ, this is a bit beyond the nutrition class I took in high school, much less your PhD in stuffing your face with donuts and cheeseburgers.” Cassandra stiffened indignantly, placing her hands on her hips, where her fists were promptly swallowed up past the wrist. “Those aren’t the only things that I–” “Oh, trust me, I know.” Stephanie massaged her closed eyelids. “We don’t need to get started on everything they’ve been baking for you over in Hell’s Kitchen… Now get your big butt on the scale while I give this some thought. Who were all those cupcakes from?” “The club.” Cassandra took a deep breath and stepped onto the scale, only to have to squirm backward a bit when her belly and bust eclipsed the readout. The scale beeped. Stephanie stepped to Cassandra’s left, peering down, then slowly straightening to look her fellow Batgirl in the eye. She blinked a few times. “Four… Four hundred…” She managed to choke out. “Four hundred and sixty-two pounds.” Cassandra swallowed. “The costume adds five to ten.” “Oh, well, I guess that’s all right, then.” Stephanie laughed – a bit hysterically, though the look on Cassandra’s cute, chubby face was also priceless. “So, in just a few months, you’ve managed to triple my weight and to quadruple yours… Oh, man. I don’t know how the heck we’re going to explain this…” “Magic.” She snorted. “The cake probably didn’t help.” “Magic cake.” “Yeah, like 20 of them, when you were supposed to be on a diet! Freakin’ pig… Anyway, I guess Constantine was right about this place being all kinds of weird.” Stephanie sighed, leaning against Cassandra’s blubbery shoulder. “We’re gonna need to work our way down the list of people who are in that club with you.” “It was Lesley.” “Huh? That girl with the nail in her tongue?” “Yes.” “Why do you think it was her?” Cassandra crossed her arms. “She’s a witch.” “As in the magic kind or the Mean Girls kind?” “Maybe both.” “Cassie, just because you don’t like her–” Cass counted off on her fingers. “Wrote the card. Wants to play the lead in Swan Lake. Told me I had ‘bigger things’ in store at rehearsal.” “Hmm. Guess that’s a motive, all right.” Steph nodded slowly. “Seems hard to believe she’d write a card to go with the hexed food, though… Why be so obvious instead of slipping something to you some other way so it’d be harder to trace?” “She could still blame one of the other girls. They all signed the card. Anyway, she probably knows there’s nothing we can do to prove it’s her, and she wanted to throw it in my face.” “Yeah, but think about how this is all lining up.” Stephanie frowned. “She makes a veiled threat, slips you enchanted food with a signed note, and then coincidentally gets kidnapped and turned into a vegetable? What if she was framed by someone else, like those two we saw tonight? We know at least one of them has superhuman abilities – and potentially magical ones…” Cassandra pursed her lips. “But the last person to get used in a ritual was Seymour, who was a witch. Maybe that’s why they picked Lesley, too.” “I guess that’s possible. Still, I don’t think we’ll be getting any answers from her, so our focus should be on the two creepy cultists. Oh, and getting you less than 200 pounds again, Piggy.” She patted Cassandra’s bulging backside and turned to go. “Hopefully, I can still make it to class, then make some phone calls after–” Cass froze. “Steph.” “What?” “I have a rehearsal at 6:00.” Stephanie blinked at her. “Do you have an understudy?” “Yeah.” Cassandra swallowed. “Lesley.” “Shit. Um, okay… We can figure this out…” Stephanie massaged her forehead. “I’ll take some measurements, then run over to the store to pick up clothes for you. Then, you’ll be free to head over to rehearsal while I make calls. Besides Lesley, is anyone else in your production part of the Baking Club?” “No.” Cass shook her head. “I usually get rides from Addie, though.” “Well, watch her reaction when she sees you for any hint that she was involved.” “Steph, she’s my friend. There’s no way–” “Look, it can’t hurt to consider all the possibilities.” Stephanie threw up her hands. “We’re pretty short on leads at the moment.” Cassandra frowned but slowly nodded before pausing again. “So, you– you said you want to measure me…?” “Yeah.” Stephanie nodded briskly. “Don’t worry, though – it will be quick and painless.” It was not. First, they had to get Cassandra out of her costume, which was no mean feat. The spandex was being tasked to its absolute limits, digging into Cassandra’s waist and stretching so tightly over her ass that Stephanie could barely slip so much as a fingernail past the waistline to pull her pants off. She had an idea, though, while she was in the process of unintentionally strangling Cassandra as she attempted to pull her cowl up over her head, with the slender neck of the costume getting stuck as it slid up over her fat face. “Ooh, I’ve got it!” Stephanie bounced on the balls of her feet. “The suit’s practically bursting off of you anyway, so how about we just, you know, finish the job?” “Mmmm-mmmmph!” Cassie replied, flailing blindly as the tight, durable fabric covered her mouth, eyes, and nose. “Oh, God! Here, just let me–” Stephanie kicked the back of Cassandra’s knees, knocking her legs out from under her and grabbing the cowl as she fell, using Cass’s enormous weight to yank the costume off of her panting, beet-red face. Dropping on her ass with a surprised “Oooph,” meanwhile, was enough to finish off the pants – they split open with a loud tear, and Stephanie went about peeling the remains off as Cassandra lay in a dazed heap (after Steph first straightened a few things that had fallen over on the counter due to Cass sitting down). “There you go!” she chirped. “Now, let’s get those measure… Oh, right, heh. I forgot you’d need to stand up after that… Whoops! Um, do you want help?” “No!” Cassandra choked out, red-faced and winded. “Okay!” Stephanie backed off, hands raised placatingly. “I will go find my tape measure and leave you to it.” She gave Cassandra’s broad shoulder a quick, reassuring squeeze, then breezed over to her bedroom, pausing when she heard a knock at the door. Her eyes widened slightly as she went to answer it. “Hey.” It was a red-haired girl Stephanie recognized as one of the nursing students who lived in the unit below them. “Is everything all right up here? There was this enormous crash—” “Oh, yes, everything’s fine.” Steph nodded quickly. “We were just, um, moving some furniture.” “It sounded like it came from the bathroom—” “Yes, we were moving the… couch… out of the bathroom.” “Why was your couch in the bathroom?” “We asked ourselves the exact same question before we decided to move it.” “How big is your bathroom?” Stephanie laughed. “Let me tell you, it was pretty crowded this morning… thanks to Cassandra’s butt…” “What was that?” “Nothing!” “No, not you. That panting, gasping sound. What’s—” “Oh, that’s my roommate. She’s standing up.” “Is she okay?” “She’s great! Everything’s great!” Stephanie grinned forcedly. “Super undressed at the moment, though, so maybe you should—” “Oh. Oh.” The other girl blushed. “So you were, um—” Stephanie did some quick thinking, then snapped her fingers. “Yes! Yes, we were. The couch thing was stupid and a lie. Do you have any further questions?” There were no further questions. Well, that got rid of her pretty quick! Stephanie thought, pleased with herself as she went to retrieve the tape measure, then returned to the bathroom, where Cassandra had managed to get to her feet, wheezing like a tea kettle, with every one of the many inches of her pale, blubbery form on display, excepting the minuscule amounts covered by her tightly stretched panties and overtaxed bra. Stephanie stepped behind her and got to work, stretching the tape to its full extent with business-like gusto. “Okay, from the top… Bust: 50 inches (ooh, lucky girl). Waist… Uh, you know what? We’ll get back to the waist in a minute (best for last). Hips: 54 inches. Oh, I should get your height, too… The measure only goes to 60 inches, so I’d say 5’2…’’ God, you’re tiny. Well, vertically, anyway. All right, enough stalling, moving on to the waist— Cass, it’s cheating to suck in your tummy. We want to get accurate— and my arms are too short. Hold on…” Struggling to reach all the way around the other girl’s huge, soft waist, Stephanie hopped as close to Cass as decency permitted… and then a little closer when that was insufficient, wriggling forward, her slim frame nestling into the formidable yet strangely hypnotic curve of Cass’s room-filling backside like an X-wing attacking the Death Star. That’s no moon… She snorted softly, then sighed, chin sinking to rest on Cassandra’s shoulder, her eyelashes fluttering as she instinctively pressed even closer, melting into a sea of gently wobbling blubber. It’s a fucking planet… “Um, Steph, what are you doing?” “Mmm… Trying to measure you, Fatass…” Stephanie pressed closer, her eyes drifting shut, marveling at how warm and soft Cassandra had gotten, like a tiny mountain of microwaved butter. Her arms relaxed slightly, no longer struggling to reach in front of her but instead gently curving, wrapping around Cassandra in a protective hug. “Mm… Have I mentioned that you’re super freaking huge?” “A couple times,” Cass grumbled as Steph leaned against her, absentmindedly twirling the tape measure and drumming her hands on Cassandra’s round belly. “It’s just so hard not to comment on…” “Please try.” “It might take a lot to get rid of all this, you know?” “Yeah.” She bit her lip. “Still.” Steph opened her eyes and gave Cass a reassuring squeeze, with the other Batgirl’s soft bulk offering little-to-no resistance, folding as easily as a pillow. “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Champ! Now, are you ready?” “Ready? For w—” Stephanie took a deep breath, gripped the ends of the tape, then charged, spreading her arms and thrusting forward with all of her strength, only for both their eyes to widen as Cassandra tipped forward, pancaking on the bathroom counter, with Stephanie sprawling across the top of her broad back. Undeterred, Stephanie squirmed forward, her feet leaving the floor as she stretched her arms to the fullest possible extent around her roommate’s waist, the fingers on her left and right hand finally making contact on the other side of Cassandra’s bulk, and… “Oh. The measure’s too short. Brilliant.” Her arms flopped down to her sides as she lay on top of Cassandra. “Okay, I give up! Who knew it would be so hard to get a definitive answer to the question, ‘How many Batgirls does it take to measure a waistline?’” “Mhm.” Steph blew a sigh. “I’m gonna go with 65 inches—” “Sixty-one.” Stephanie wrinkled her nose, propping her elbows on the makeshift mattress beneath her and resting her chin on her hands. “You’re just trying to make it less than your height.” “Sixty-one.” “Okay, fine – sixty-one. It’s your funeral, Muffin Top.” Stephanie shrugged, patting Cassandra’s belly, which bulged across the countertop beneath them like a doughy tidal wave, resting on top of a nearby toothpaste tube. The tube’s contents had squirted halfway across the bathroom, causing Steph to shake her head. Such a slob… The girl’s observant enough to read a fruit fly’s microexpressions, but putting the cap back on the freaking toothpaste is too much to ask? “So, you comfy down there, Champ?” “Are you comfy up there?” “Indescribably. Our neighbors are probably gonna file a complaint, though.” Steph stretched, then checked her watch. “Whose fault is that?” “Well, if you want to go there, out of our combined 600+ pounds, you’re more than 75 percent…” “You knocked me over!” “Only after, like, 4 years of trying… It was an accident, okay? I’m used to you being invincible, not so big and soft and… mm… comfortable—” “Steph?” “Voluptuous…” “Steph…” “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. You’ve got a lot more going on up front these days. No wonder you’re so top-heavy… Speaking of which, I’m gonna run to the store so you can be decent for your rehearsal.” “Okay, thanks.” Stephanie hopped down, giving Cassandra another quick hug before squeezing a little harder as she strained to haul the fat Batgirl upright. “And don’t pig out while I’m gone! Hopefully, with some supervision, we can get you down a few pounds before opening night, and with some quality protein, you might even be able to complete a pirouette without passing out!” She skipped lightly out of the room, racing downstairs to the parking lot and driving to the nearest Target, which would have to do since Ivy was a very small town that couldn’t accommodate very big girls with a separate plus-size retailer. Stephanie made a note to see if Alfred could have something tailored for Cass’s specific measurements… later. For now, she would just look around for the biggest, stretchiest pants she could find. Unfortunately, the pickings were slim, especially when she switched gears and began to look for shirts, considering how much weight Cass was carrying in her belly, which would mean either leaving her baggy up top or finding something that would fit her boobs but would be tight as a drum over her waist, unless… Stephanie bit her lip, stealing surreptitious glances at the maternity section. Cass would probably combust from embarrassment if she knew, but what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, right? … “Steph?” She spun, eyes huge, holding a voluminous top that billowed like a tent in her white-knuckled grip. “Oh, uh, hey…” “Hey, yourself.” Simon blinked, his eyes sliding down to the purple blouse she was holding. “I’m not pregnant!” Stephanie instinctively blurted. “What?” He took a step back. “Oh, of course not – I didn’t—” “It’s for my roommate!” “Cassandra? She’s—” “No, she’s not pregnant, either, she just got super fat – Not me, though! I am… not fat…” Stephanie’s hand instinctively slid down to her small waist, and she shifted her weight self-consciously. “No.” Simon tilted his head slightly, his deep green eyes drifting slowly downward. “No, you’re not…” Stephanie smiled nervously, suddenly feeling a bit out of breath. “So, uh, what are you doing here?” “Just looking for some winter clothes.” He shrugged. “What’s going on with Cassandra, though? I saw her in class yesterday, and she’s definitely put on a few pounds this semester, but it didn’t seem too extreme…” “Let’s just say there’ve been some unexpected developments.” Steph swallowed. “Oh?” Simon moved closer, and Stephanie took an instinctive step back. Noticing that, he seemed to pause, straightening, his expression more quizzical. “Is she all right?” “I– I think so.” Steph nodded. “We’ll figure it out.” “Okay.” He nodded. “Is there anything I can do? I could ask someone on the medical staff to pay you a visit—” “No, I don’t think that’s necessary.” She shook her head. “I don’t really think this is a medical problem…” “What do you mean?” She hesitated. “You… You’re from around here, right?” “Yep—certified 1998. Born, raised, and most likely to die right here in Ivy Town.” He smiled morosely. “Oh, well… Have you ever heard anything about… witches?” His smile became a bit lopsided. “Steph, it’s Massachusetts.” “Good point.” She nodded, frowning at the ground before glancing back up at him. “So, I’m guessing you heard a lot of weird stories, growing up in this area?” Simon chuckled. “Oh, yeah. I could keep you up all night and not even get through half of them.” “I’m not surprised. It definitely seemed like that thing Lesley talked about in class was of special interest to you.” “The Seymore murder?” He nodded. “Yeah. I know it’s a bit weird, but it’s been something that’s fascinated me since I was a kid. I’ve always loved mysteries, and you know… They never identified the killer.” “I used to try to solve cases like that from my living room.” Stephanie snorted, then blushed slightly. “I’ve, uh, got a bit of a true crime fixation. Super basic, I know…” He laughed. “You should take the Forensics class Dr. Palmer will be teaching next semester.” “Yeah.” Steph smiled, then frowned. “Hey, how is he doing, by the way? Any improvement?” “Oh, you didn’t hear?” Simon blinked, then leaned closer. “Don’t tell the other students, but Dr. Palmer disappeared.” “What?” Stephanie straightened. “Really?” “Yes.” He sighed, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair. “Vanished from his lab – or maybe he’s still there… It’s so hard to say with him. I’m surprised you didn’t know.” “Me? Why would I know?” Simon smiled lopsidedly again. “Come on, now. I’m his assistant, and he tells me everything. You know, day-to-day stuff. All the little things…” Stephanie scowled. “Okay, quit being coy. What do you know?” Simon leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Ray Palmer is the Atom. Cassandra Wayne is Batgirl. You… are also Batgirl.” “And Dr. Palmer told you all of that?” Stephanie took a step back, frowning. “I’m pretty sure Batman will kick his ass when he finds out.” “Well, we’ll have to find him first.” Simon sighed. “Like I said, though, Ray tells me everything. It seemed like a good idea to have our bases covered in case there was an emergency that would require one or both of you to leave class abruptly.” “I guess. I wish he was around to help Cass with her little problem… or not-so-little problem…” She bit her lip. “Unexpected changes in mass seem like they’d be right up his alley, you know? I’m gonna see if Batman can get in touch with some mystical types like Doctor Fate, but I can’t count on that. Seems like magicians are always off on some other plane of existence when you need them. Plus, you never know when you’re going to wind up in a monkey’s paw situation… Long story short, I like scientific solutions. Magic’s too unpredictable.” “Maybe.” Simon tilted his head, then smiled slightly. “Isn’t that part of the allure, though?” “What do you mean?” “Science gets routine after a while.” He shrugged. “It doesn’t have… personality. You always feel like you’re re-treading someone else’s footsteps – at best, producing a map for others to follow. There’s nothing new, just things we understand a bit better.” “Well, Dr. Palmer’s unlocked whole new worlds at the quantum level…” “True.” He snorted, then frowned, seeming lost in thought. “Do you think he ever has regrets about that?” “He might at the moment, if he’s trapped down there.” Stephanie shuddered. “The Justice League knows he vanished, right?” “Mhm.” Simon nodded. “No luck finding him yet, though… Hm. Do you think we could do a better job?” She blinked. “We?” “Why not?” He flashed a bright smile. “You’re a crimefighting detective, and I know my way around Ray’s lab. Maybe you can help me look for him, and I can help you figure out what’s going on with Cassandra.” “Oh, wow… That’d be great.” Stephanie sighed. “I’m in way over my head here. Any help would be super appreciated, especially anything you can tell us about what happened with Rachel Seymore 20 years ago.” Simon’s smile faded. “Actually, I heard on the news that Lesley (from Physics) was found comatose in the Seymore house last night. They said she’d been stabbed…” “Yeah. In the tongue.” “You were there?” “Mhm.” “Oh. You must have saved her, then?” Stephanie shrugged modestly. “I mean, yeah, maybe a little. Cass, too.” Simon laughed softly, shaking his head. “You have no idea how surreal this is for me. Having three superheroes in my college class, counting the Professor? That’s… That’s really damn cool.” His face reddened slightly, and Stephanie blushed, too. “Oh, yeah?” “Definitely. Is it… Is it weird to tell you I’m a bit of a fan?” “Very weird.” Stephanie nodded vigorously. “But hey, at least it gives us something in common.” “Oh? What?” “We both like to dress up in tights.” Simon snorted again. “I doubt I look half as good in them.” “We’ll find out soon enough,” Stephanie replied brightly. “Opening night is… next Thursday, right?” “Right.” He nodded, then opened his mouth, pausing for a long moment. “Speaking of which… exactly how, er, large did you say Cassandra has gotten?” Stephanie wrapped a conspiratorial arm around his shoulders, leading him over to a bench. “Yeah, about that… We’re gonna need to conduct a little emergency strategy session...” [Chapter 6 available here: https://www.deviantart.com/weapona/art/Batgirl-WG-Lunar-Eclipse-6-961790203. I'll also be uploading it to Curvage soon]

The wind was quite strong as it rustled the mostly bare branches, and it was even stronger on the rooftops. Without a specific destination in mind, Cass and Stephanie instinctively angled to move with it rather than against it. Tonight, the fabric in Cass’s costume was her best friend and worst enemy. It was extraordinarily elastic, so it fit her better than Stephanie’s sweatpants, but it was even less flattering to her plump figure than her leotard was. At least its black color made her stand out a little less. If they played their cards right, no one would see her but Steph, and Steph had been diplomatic enough not to comment… at least, not out loud. Her eyes had said a lot when Cass wobbled out of her room, her normally fearsome stitched-up mask looking nearly comical with her downcast eyes and chubby cheeks. To add insult to injury, she’d forgotten to complete a maintenance check after neglecting patrols for the last handful of weeks, and her grappling hook jammed when she was halfway up to the roof. Forced to lug herself up the rest of the way by hand before they could make repairs, Cass was unable to deny how much heavier and flabbier she had gotten over the past couple of months. “It’s not… a race,” she panted, breathing heavily by the time a relatively untroubled Steph reached down to help pull her up onto the roof. Cass was blushing slightly – even harder when she saw that some of the Halloween treats she’d stuffed into the pockets of her utility belt had spilled out. It had seemed like she might like to refuel at some point, but if the compartments weren’t properly sealing, it was possible she’d gone a little overboard… Stephanie crossed her arms. “So much for the diet, I guess.” Cass was pretty sure her face would set her mask on fire if it got any warmer. “It’s only once a year, Steph…” “Oh, yeah? And how about all this?” The taller and now slimmer Batgirl thumped her partner’s belly. “You think that’s gonna be gone November 1?” “No,” Cass mumbled. “Can we talk about this later, though?” Stephanie sighed. “Fine. Hand over the grapple – I’ll fix that up while you get your belt under control, preferably not by eating all of its contents…” All in all, the night wasn’t going as smoothly as Cassandra had expected. Still, it felt good to be Batgirl again after neglecting patrols for the last handful of weeks. Cass was tired of long nights without any action, and without fail, after a long night of Swan Lake practice and pigging out at the Baking Club, she didn’t feel fit for any sort of agile motion. She was pretty full tonight, too – she’d managed to score a few burgers but had resisted Addie’s oddly forceful attempts to ply her with her signature chocolate cake. As much as the prospect had made Cass drool, she knew that once she started with that cake, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. She’d be utterly incapable of anything more than waddling to bed for the rest of the night. Things were difficult enough with two quarter-pounders and fries under her belt – or rather, over her belt. Her belly spilled over the utility belt and wobbled freely as she jogged across the roofs, lagging a bit behind Steph. Being a bit farther back wasn’t entirely pointless, though – it gave her a different angle on things, including the ability to spot a man in a trenchcoat ducking into an alleyway. “Steph.” She turned away, raised a fist to signal that she’d spotted something, then leaped off the roof, angling her cape to glide across the road. This was her first time attempting to do so since her weight gain, however, and she found maneuvering to be slightly more difficult than expected. She managed to land on her feet but had to rein in her momentum, spinning off-balance and stumbling against a wall. Steph landed casually (and more lightly) beside her, leading the way as they approached the alley. A disheveled blonde man emerged a moment later, zipping up his trousers without looking at them. A cigarette dangled from his lips, glowing orange in the dim light. He started to walk away, slouching with his hands in his pockets, and Stephanie blinked. “John Constantine?” He flinched, glancing back over his shoulder, then relaxed and turned away again, continuing down the street. “You must have me confused with someone else, Luv.” “Don’t think I do!” she called. She waited for a moment to see if he would turn around. He didn’t. “Aren’t you curious how I knew your name?” … “We only met once, but you have a pretty distinct smell, you know that?!” … Steph cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. “In case you were wondering, you smell like booze! And brimstone! And self-loathing and stale vomit! Honestly, even Alec Holland thinks you should shower—” “All right! Cor blimey, you can shut the hell up already.” Constantine moved back toward them, scowling. “I could drop some names too, little girl, but they might not be the sort you’d want to meet on a dark, windy Hallow’s Eve.” Steph swallowed. “Right. Um, point taken. I’m rapidly getting used to the smell…” “What are you doing here?” “We were here first.” Cass crossed her arms. “You tell us.” Constantine blinked, looking at Stephanie. “If y’know Swampie, I can only assume that you’re the genuine article – Purple Bat? Mockingbird? I can never keep track. But surely this other one’s just a kid dressed up for—” Cass scowled, flinging a Batarang before he could finish the sentence. It lopped the tip off the Hellblazer’s cigarette and embedded itself in a nearby wall. “This is Batgirl.” Steph crossed her arms. “She’s going through a bit of a sideways growth spurt at the moment, but I wouldn’t comment on it if you’re partial to your teeth.” “Lard-arse Yanks…” He shook his head. “And which one are you?” “I am also Batgirl.” “See?” He jabbed the stump of his cigarette at them. “Bats can’t keep track, either. Too damned many of you kids, and now I guess he’s decided one city wasn’t enough for the Legion lot of you.” “Yeah, well, we’re attending the university here, so don’t you dare pull any… any weird, occult shit we’ll have to deal with later!” “Pull any—” He stared at her. “Do you have the slightest idea where we’re standing?” Stephanie hesitated. “Ivy Town?” “Right. Didn’t the big man tell you this place is a bloody nexus point for quantum irregularities and mystical incursions? Most people blame Palmer and his damned experiments, though who can keep track of little things like cause and effect when time and space stop mattering?” “It’s been weird for a while, then.” Cass nodded slowly. “20 years?” “Longer than that, probably, but 20 years ago was definitely a watershed.” Constantine’s eyes narrowed. “You know something about the Seymore incident?” “We’ve heard things.” “Well, don’t believe half of them.” Constantine lit another cigarette. “Most people know Rachel Seymore as the mayor, but a lot less know she was also a powerful witch. They say she could read people like books… rewrite them, too, if she was inclined. Had half the town under her thumb, from voters to her playboy husband. It was a pretty cozy situation, but Rachel got bored and started looking for other things she could control. Of course, you know what they say about peering into the abyss. Whatever she tried to do went properly tits-up, and now…” “Now she haunts the town?” “Rachel?” He snorted. “I wish. A human soul would be less of a pain to exorcize. The thing that has its claws in Ivy Town is a demon — Lilith the Lesser.” “Lesser?” Stephanie brightened. “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about Lilith the Greater.” “Don’t get too excited. Younger demons typically have a chip on their shoulder. They’re not the kind of devil you see in cartoons with sly smirks and clever offers – they’re vicious buggers that’d sooner tear you limb from limb than buy your soul.” “Oh. So, um… what are you gonna do about it?” “Wait for her to come out of that house.” Constantine pointed at a building across the street, which Cass and Steph recognized from Simon’s sketch. “Should be any time now, what with the anniversary and everything…” Cass paused. “You know she died in July, right?” “What?” “Steph can show you.” Steph pulled out her phone. “Yeah, common misconception, I guess. They were arguing about it in class…” “That bloody Chimp gave me the wrong date?” Constantine bristled. “First I lose the damn bet, and now he had to go and pull a fast one on me… Laughing up a storm, no doubt. Well, I’ll… I’ll… Bollocks. Who the hell performs an occult ritual in July?!” “Lunar eclipse,” Cass explained. “Ah.” He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing. “Suppose that’d do it. Bet there was a blood moon visible in this area about twenty years ago… Hnh. Supposed to be another one next year, too.” Stephanie straightened. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah. I’m glad you Batgirls are on the case.” “Uh, come again?” “You heard that one.” He jerked his head at Cass. “You two were here first. Your jurisdiction.” “No, I’m pretty sure demons are your—” “Look, Ducky, I already made the trip out here once. You think I’ll be back in May for the blood moon? You think I’ll remember?” He shook his head. “Call Zee if you need a hand. She’ll probably be available.” He turned and started walking away again before calling back: “Oh, and in the meantime, maybe lay off the cheeseburgers, Shortstuff! It’s bad for your heart.” “So is smoking!” Stephanie yelled after him. The two exchanged middle fingers. Then, Constantine disappeared into some fog that hadn’t been there a few minutes earlier. “So… demon.” Cass glanced at the old, empty house. Stephanie swallowed. “I mean, maybe he was just messing with us.” “No. Telling the truth.” “Damn.” She bit her lip. “Do you know anything about performing exorcisms?” “Is it like punching?” “Yeah, but in a ghost kind of way, so… no, actually. Not really.” “I hate ghosts.” “Well, he mentioned May, so we’ve got a handful of months to bone up.” Stephanie shrugged. “Or see if Bruce can call up Zatanna, like he suggested. Or Doctor Fate, or– or– Well, somebody…” “Not tonight, though,” Cass observed. Her stomach growled. Steph narrowed her eyes. “No. No. You’re not going to that party. Too dangerous.” “We live for danger.” “Oh, shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “If you’re gonna use my own YOLO against me, I’m gonna have to borrow your Sun Tzu schtick: ‘The wise warrior has no opponent to fear but herself.’” She poked Cass’s belly. “Be afraid.” Then, her finger unintentionally sunk in further, and Steph’s eyes bugged. “Okay, um… On second thought, be very afraid–” “Knock it off.” Cass scowled, smacking Steph’s hand away. “Fine. I’ll lose some weight. Easy.” “Okay.” Steph put her hands on her hips. “How you gonna do that, Champ?” “Exercise.” Cass stretched, folding one arm across her chest and leaning back. Her belly stuck out like a beachball. “Okay, that’s a nice start, but if you really want to get a significant caloric deficit, the most efficient way is to… you know…” Stephanie flashed an apologetic smile. “…eat a ton less.” Cass shook her head. “I’ll burn calories.” “Okay, but like, how many? What did you say you had to eat last night?” “Two eclairs, four sugar cookies, two bowls of apple crisp, two slices of apple pie, four slices of pumpkin pie, three slices of chocolate cake…” “Okay, God help me… Let’s break that down.” Steph shuddered, breaking out her phone and bouncing around the list. “Those cakes Addie makes are freaking enormous, easily 500 calories per slice… So, three, that’d be 1500… Maybe 300 for a slice of pumpkin pie, so 300 times 4 is 1200… An eclair with frosting could be 300… 600… Sugar cookies would be maybe 150 a pop… 150, 300, 450, 600… Apple crisp, apple crisp… Let’s hope they were small bowls, so about 250 times 2…” “They were not small bowls.” “Okay, fine 500 times 2… Did I miss anything?” “Apple pie.” “Apple pie… Apple pie? Plus crisp?” “We had a lot of apples.” “Guess that makes sense, except for the part where you elected to eat both. Twice.” Stephanie scowled. “That’ll be another 600, probably, bringing the total up to… 5500 calories. 5500 CALORIES–” “Michael Phelps ate 10,000 calories a day.” Cass fidgeted, kicking a rock on the sidewalk. “How do you even know that?” “I have a phone, too.” “Okay, but seriously, Cass, Michael Phelps is 7 feet tall or something like that. No wonder you’re– You’re—” “What?” Cass glared daggers. “I’m what?” “Kind of pudgy?” Steph sighed, defeated. “Like, kind of a lot?” “I’ve always eaten like this, though.” Cass frowned. “Less sweets, I guess, but lots of nuts… protein… butter… I need–” “Don’t say ‘fuel,’ Little Miss Fatso. It looks like you may be slightly overestimating your metabolism. Like, by about 50 pounds in two months.” Cass crossed her arms. “Are you gonna help me work out or make fun of me?” Steph placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Help, of course. And then make fun of you a little because this is pretty hilarious, and you’ve never missed taking a shot at my figure…” Cass smirked. “How could I miss, when you’re—” “See?” Stephanie wrinkled her nose irritably, hand sliding down to her waist and slipping behind her back. “I don’t really know why you’d need exercise tips from me, but if you’re looking for encouragement, take a look at that spot over there…” “What about it?” “Made you look. Tag!” Cass spun as Stephanie grappled up toward the rooftops, waving. With an annoyed grunt, she grabbed her own grapple gun and fired in the same direction. To her immense chagrin, hers seemed to pull her up ever so slightly more slowly than she was used to. She hit the roof a little harder, too, grunting again as she raced after Stephanie, who was no longer waving – she had the good sense to look straight ahead and sprint like her life depended on it, jumping from one roof to the next. For her part, Cass was – for the first time – glad she hadn’t gotten the chance to eat more during her stop at Big Belly. Her stomach was churning with the unfamiliar exertion. It wasn’t fair… She’d spent 20 years getting in shape! Why had it only taken 1 month to get out of it? Not that she was slow. She could still run. It wasn’t as if she’d never had to move while carrying a lot of weight – in fact, 50 pounds hardly even constituted “a lot” in relation to what she’d been trained for. It just happened to be more than Stephanie was carrying, and with slightly shorter legs, legs that she hadn’t properly used in a while… Still, what she lacked in nimbleness, she would make up for in grit and decades of conditioning that persisted within her, regardless of whatever padding might have lately piled on top of it. There’s no way she’s faster than me! Cass sprinted forward, footsteps thudding like machine-gun fire across the roofs. Stephanie, meanwhile, was running out of rooftop – they were approaching the Seymore house now, which loomed a couple of stories taller than the other buildings on the block. Without glancing back, she fired her grapple at the side of the building, swinging up toward its moldering, Gothic bulk. Cass followed suit an adrenaline-fueled heartbeat later, though she wasn’t yet at the optimal distance. Her hook hit the building a few feet below Stephanie’s at the same moment the other girl leaped off the roof, blonde hair rippling in the wind. Cass dove after her a fraction of a second later. They were both soaring through the crisp autumn air now, angling up toward the nascent crescent of a bright, waxing moon. Ivy Town didn’t have many of the things that Gotham did, and that included the air pollution – there was just the moon, the wind, and two young Batgirls. Grinning breathlessly, Stephanie extended her legs and her free arm, turning to face the wind and letting it fling her cape behind her, forgetting the race for a moment as she swung through the air. A few yards below her, Cass was proving a bit less free-spirited – the only thing on her mind was achieving victory. That, and the fact that the swinging motion was causing a few of her extra pounds to wobble annoyingly. Gritting her teeth, she carefully adjusted her ascent, gaining momentum as she angled to intercept Steph. The move proved even more successful than anticipated – uncontrolled, her newfound weight would have been an anchor slowing her maneuvers and making her less aerodynamic. Thanks to Cass’s incredible precision, though, it became an injection of momentum that turned her small body into a black-clad cannonball. She swung her legs up and leaned forward, narrowing her profile and ignoring the way her midsection squished, her belly rolling over the compartments of her utility belt. She shot forward and upward, her legs wrapping around Stephanie and dragging both of them up toward the top of the Seymore house. Their tangled bodies narrowly cleared the edge of the roof and skidded across the roof, with Steph’s cape serving as a blanket and Cass’s serving as a parachute. Stephanie yelped and grimaced as she slid to a gradual, grinding halt, staring up at a face that belonged in a nightmare – a black mask with shadowy caverns where the eyeholes should have been, framed by sharpened black points above and a curve of stitches like a frowning, razor-toothed mouth. “You’re it,” Cass said coldly. “I guess so… Also, um, ouch?” “Suck it up.” She stood, rummaging in her belt for some chocolate and walking to the edge of the roof, cape sliding up as the wind continued to howl around them. Glancing down and wheezing a bit, she was forced to make a couple of wardrobe adjustments, pulling the top of her costume down so it wouldn’t expose her belly and hitching her pants up. “Just this once.” Stephanie observed Cass’s adjustments (and the chocolate bar she was holding) and smirked a little. “Next time, we’re falling on you and your mattress butt…” There were four gargoyles on the roof of the old building, but none of their scowls could even approach the stoniness in Cass’s masked expression. Her attempts to come up with an appropriately biting response soon fell by the wayside, though – something was happening on the street below. She leaned forward in a crouch, resembling nothing so much as a fifth batlike monstrosity protecting the rooftop, her cape rounding out slightly as it draped over her broad backside. Steph frowned. “What’s u—” She broke off as Cass raised a fist again. Steph shrugged, rocked herself upright, and crawled over to join the brooding Batgirl. Below, she saw several hooded figures approaching the front door of the building. One was tall and well-built, one was tall and slender, and one was short and slender. Something was off about the tall-but-slender one, who seemed to be moving more hesitantly than the others, occasionally guided by a prod from the well-built one. The short one raised a hand in front of the door, but instead of knocking, they jerked their hand back, and the door swung open with a clatter. “Telekinetic?” Stephanie whispered, swallowing slightly. Okay, so at least one was a metahuman, and if she had to guess, the other skinny one was there under duress… They would have to intervene. She glanced over at Cass – or rather, the uneaten chocolate bar and the tip of a ragged black cape disappearing over the edge of the roof. Muttering a curse, Steph followed, dropping down and firing her grapnel over her shoulder to slow her descent. The two landed in front of the doorway, which was still hanging open, the door to the Seymore house creaking in the wind. Cass led the way inside, staying close to the wall and glancing around the spacious entryway. It was unoccupied, but footsteps and voices could be heard to their left. One voice was muffled as if by a gag, and the other was chanting in an unfamiliar language, voice low, breathy, and animalistic. Steph hurried to follow as Cass slipped, wraith-like, across the room, standing sideways beside the door. She was standing a little too close, though, and a sliver of her stomach bulged past the frame – noticing this, Stephanie hastily pulled her back a few inches and nearly earned a reflexive elbow to the face for her trouble. The two peered around the corner and saw that the three hooded figures were standing in front of a staircase that wrapped around the room. The short one was on the stairs, standing above the taller, skinnier one, whose hands were extended overhead while the short one tied them to the railing. The sturdier one was still rumbling on in the same growling, gnashing tone, slowly lifting a long, silver nail up to the prisoner’s face. Cass’s Batarang knocked the nail across the room, and the figure spun to face her. All three cloaks were facing them now, six eyes gleaming in the flickering light cast by several candelabras scattered around the room. Two eyes glowed green, two glowed yellow, and two were white and wide with fear. “Hnh. It seems to be damn near impossible to finish a demonic ritual in this house,” Yellow Eyes said in a masculine voice that resonated strangely, almost as if a second, more feminine voice was echoing beneath it. “Well, you kind of left the door open,” Steph replied while reaching behind her back for a flashbang. If the little, green-eyed one on the stairs had TK, it was key that they disorient her before making a move on the other one. “We assumed there was a costume party… or maybe a no-costumes party, Mr. Eyes Wide Shut…” “Not that kind of party at all,” Yellow Eyes said with a smile before spinning, a second nail appearing in his hand. He plunged it into White Eyes’ gagged mouth an instant before Cass tackled him, sending them both crashing to the floor. Cass raised a fist, but it seemed to freeze, hovering over her head, and then an invisible force pulled her backward into the air, tumbling her across the room. Diving around the corner, Steph hurled the flashbang, eyes locked on Green Eyes, who staggered back at the flash of light. Yellow Eyes was back on his feet, chanting again as he leaned forward and wrenched the nail out of White Eye’s mouth, spraying blood on the floor. Then, he leaped up, grasping the railing and vaulting onto the staircase with catlike agility, sprinting up the stairway and dragging Green Eyes after him. Green Eyes glanced down the stairs at a charging Cassandra and clenched a fist. Cass doubled over as if a punch had sunk into her ample gut, then bounced over the railing as if punted by a massive, invisible foot. Steph’s focus was on White Eyes, who was bleeding badly. She pulled off the hood, her eyes widening with recognition before she tore the gag off and rolled it up like a bandage, which she pressed against the crimson hole in the other girl’s tongue. In her periphery, she saw Cass stagger to her feet, only to start spinning like a top and pitch forward, sliding across the floor until she collided head-first with the wall, cape piling unceremoniously atop her shoulders. Steph glanced up, her blue eyes locking with a pair of green ones, and she braced herself for a similar phantasmal shellacking. It never came, though, and the green eyes vanished up the stairs. “White Eyes” didn’t seem capable of tending to her own injury, so Steph didn’t dare leave her. “Cass, can you cut her loose? Cass!” Cassie was still for another moment, then leaped to her feet as if pulled by a wire. This time, though, she appeared to be moving under her own power, stumbling slightly as she tilted in the direction of Stephanie. After successfully crossing the room, she tugged her Batarang free of the wall beneath the staircase and began sawing the ropes tying White Eyes to the railing. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here,” Steph promised. “You’re gonna be fine, um… Is it Laney?” “Lesley,” Cass said tersely. The ropes snapped beneath her Batarang, and the tall girl slumped forward. She would have fallen to the floor if Stephanie hadn’t caught her, gently lowering her into a sitting position. “She’s gonna need an ambulance.” Cass nodded, turning away and making the call. Then, ignoring Steph’s remonstrance to “wait,” she ran up the stairs in pursuit of the cloaked figures. She returned a few minutes later, slouching irritably. “Out the back window.” “Well, they’re not the only ones,” Steph muttered, still crouching in front of Lesley. “What do you mean?” “I can’t get any response from her.” Steph nodded at the pretty brunette. “Probably shock.” “That’s what’s weird.” Steph raised a small pen light, shining it in Lesley’s eye. Her pupil didn’t dilate even slightly. “Her vitals don’t indicate a shock response or lack of consciousness. She’s wide awake but completely unresponsive. It’s like she doesn’t notice us or even that gaping hole in her tongue.” “Maybe she went somewhere else.” “Like where?” Cass glanced around the candlelit room, frowning. “Wherever ghosts come from.” She thought about what Lesley had said earlier: “She won’t be satisfied until she’s punished three people in this town, selected for reasons known only to her. One of the three has their body destroyed, one has their mind destroyed, and one has their soul destroyed.” How much of that story was true? Based on what Constantine said, there was definitely more to it than a grade-school ghost story. Was it possible, then, that Lesley had her mind destroyed by Lilith the Lesser? And if she was one victim out of three, who were the other two? And who were the two occultists who were helping the demon? Cassandra and Stephanie waited with Lesley until help arrived, then vaulted over the railing and escaped out into the night through the same window Yellow Eyes and Green Eyes had used. Both were silent as they spent the next few hours fruitlessly searching for the glowing-eyed duo, then made their way back to the apartment. With a yawn, Stephanie wished Cassandra goodnight and retreated to her bedroom. A moment later, she poked her head out. “Oh, and go easy on the candy! You don’t want to undo all your progress from tonight.” Cass scowled at her from the kitchen, where she had indeed been preparing to fill a bowl with Halloween candy they’d bought a few weeks prior. She waited a moment for Steph’s door to close, then resumed as if there had been no interruption. Halloween only comes once a year, she reasoned. There would be hundreds of other nights she could lose the weight. Soon, she was a good bit stickier but in a much better mood, humming a bit of the “Dance with Goblets” to herself as she made her way to the bathroom, where she had only a mildly unpleasant reaction to coming face to face with a chubby girl wearing her costume and chewing a mouthful of Tootsie Rolls. Cass paused, one hand drifting down to her midsection as she got her first proper look at herself in a while. Her belt, which had once hung at a jaunty angle from her hips because it was too big for her waist, was now much too tight for her. Her belly bulged over the top, drooping in front of the square yellow compartments. From the front, she looked wide. From the side, she looked round. Her stomach was compressed by her belt and tight costume into a ball of fat that bounced slightly whenever she took a step. Her cape could no longer hang straight down, instead being forced to curve around her plump backside, which was even softer than her stomach, wobbling from side to side even as she twisted around to get a better look at it. She swallowed her candy, but even with her mouth empty, her cheeks bulged. She had a bit of a double chin, too. She doubted even her mask, which covered her entire head and neck, could conceal it. There was no denying it – Steph was right. Lesley, too. Cassandra was a fatass. Still, she was hardly the first, and she clenched her fists as she glared defiantly at her reflection. She crossed her arms (ignoring the way this stance pancaked her considerably bigger, softer bust) and sucked in her belly. What was a little fat compared to the woman who had defeated countless warriors and assassins, including the Mistress of the Martial Arts herself? With a hint of newfound swagger in the indolent sway of her bulging rump, the plus-sized Batgirl made her way over to her room, confident that she would conquer every obstacle standing between her fatter, lazier self and her former perfection… tomorrow. Tonight, she would– She would– Cass blinked. As someone who hadn’t known the comfort of a bed as a child and had enjoyed the attendance of a butler as an adult, Cassandra had never gotten into the habit of making her bed, which she ordinarily left as a tangle of blankets and sheets after hopping lightly to her feet in the morning. Tonight, though, the bed had been impeccably arranged, and the centerpiece was a large basket placed in front of her pillow, a basket that was loaded with cupcakes, donuts, and slices of chocolate cake carefully wrapped in plastic. Cassandra approached the sugary cornucopia and saw that there was a note attached… It said it was from the members of the Baking Club, with a somewhat passive-aggressive inscription written by Lesley (who said that their front door had been unlocked) and accompanied by the signatures of the other club members, including Adrianna. Looking at the note, Cass wondered if Lesley had bumped into her kidnappers near the apartment, or even inside of the building. She would have to check the hallways for any signs of a scuffle… in a minute. Right now, the sight of all of that chocolate was making Cassandra’s stomach rumble, and she figured that there was no harm in having one bite… Cass grabbed one of the donuts, turning back to the door and then taking one step toward it at the same moment she took one small, fateful bite. Immediately, she stiffened as if struck by lightning, and it was hard to say what started pumping faster: her jaws (as she took a second bite, and then a third, and then a fourth) or her legs, which sent her lunging back toward the bed, nearly falling to the floor as she pounced on the basket of treats. As one delicious bite melted into another, one donut became two, three, four, five… Her mask tumbled to the floor as Cassandra thrust the basket into the air and flipped it over, causing confections to rain down around her as she caught a cupcake in her mouth. This, too, sent what seemed like volts of electricity coursing through her, pushing aside any thought of anything besides stuffing every last bit of this feast into her impatient stomach. As the minutes rushed by, she wriggled happily on the bed, which began to creak louder and louder with each bite she took, matching the feverish pitch of the roaring wind outside as she slowly sank deeper into the soft mattress. Meanwhile, underneath the bed, her discarded mask had folded so that the stitches formed an odd little smile reminiscent of a Jack-o-lantern, illuminated by a sliver of moonlight peeking through the window. Its grin was cast in partial shadow as the nearly empty basket dropped to the floor and rolled toward the window, spilling forth a generous slice of gooey chocolate cake. Then, a fat, gloved hand reached down to grab the cake, totally eclipsing the mask’s knowing grin.

Chapter 3 (One month later) Well, it was official. Steph had created a monster. She had seen Cassandra take on murderers, mutants, ’roided out luchadors, a disproportionate number of people wearing clown makeup, and others who for some reason elected to wear animal costumes while committing felonies. Not that Steph could judge – half of her friends had personas based on bats or birds, and she herself had also become a Batgirl after Cassandra temporarily hung up her cowl to figure some things out. Right now, Cassie was trying to figure out how to put on some jeans, and it appeared that the jeans might succeed where so many other malefactors had failed. In a display befitting her talents, the erstwhile Batgirl had pulled, stretched, pushed, and contorted herself in a series of highly improbable ways. When leverage proved ineffective, she tried to apply momentum in ways that, in reality, shouldn’t have made a lick of difference – and, also in reality, didn’t make a lick of difference. Cassandra bounced up and down on her tiptoes, jumped into the air, turned in circles while hopping up and down, dropped to the floor, and then leaped to her feet, all with her hands planted squarely on her backside, yanking on the jeans. She was seemingly hoping that some combination of upward force from her arms on the jeans and gravity’s downward force on her large, jiggling butt would eventually cause them to slide in opposite directions. Stephanie was less optimistic, anticipating that if this kept up, one of three things would break: Cassie’s pants (these jeans, after all, were lowly denim, not an armored Batsuit) Cassie’s fingers or thumbs (if she fell on her ample rear again) Their apartment floor (based on how much the less-than-svelte girl’s antics were causing the room to shake) “Do you want help?” Steph asked loudly, trying to be heard over earth-quaking footsteps more appropriate for a charging elephant than a 20-year-old girl. “No!” Cass choked out, her face beet-red, mouth hanging open as she panted. She wasn’t exactly winded, but she seemed closer than Steph could ever remember seeing, and all because of some Size 0 pants… “Then you’re gonna need to go up a size,” Stephanie pronounced, crossing her arms and deciding to put her foot down before Cass put her foot down again and their neighbors started filing complaints. Up a size… or two… or twelve… “No,” Cass repeated, on the balls of her feet again as she wiggled across the room. “Nice footwork. Do they call that one ‘le dandinement du pingouin?’” “Steph… Doing ballet—” She leaned forward as if to touch her toes. “—does not mean I know French—” She straightened to the fullest extent of her diminutive height as if hoping to stretch her bulging backside like Laffy Taffy. “—but it does mean I know—” Her tiptoeing shuffle now caused her to teeter sideways, nearly losing her balance before Stephanie caught her. “—that your French sucks,” Cassandra managed to finish, gaping like a fish, glancing down at Steph’s arms, which were wrapped around her as if readying to perform the Heimlich maneuver. Cass took advantage of Steph’s support to lean back and resume her wriggling, going so far as to pull her feet off the ground, curve her torso forward, and stretch her feet out as far as she could in front of her while yanking on the jeans. Steph grunted, stumbling back a step before she managed to find her footing. She was no stranger to hauling people around – it was definitely part of the job description, whether she needed to arrange unconscious crooks for pickup, rescue people from a burning building, or get a fallen teammate out of harm’s way. The latter group was her primary reference point for estimating a person’s weight, since she’d spent long hours practicing the most efficient ways to get one of her fellow crime fighters behind cover, to the point that she could do so in a matter of seconds. Cass was far from the heaviest she’d needed to handle (Jason and Bruce were both built like tanks, and Bruce also dressed like one), but she was definitely heavier than Stephanie remembered – much heavier than Damian, somewhat heavier than Tim/Babs, but a bit lighter than Dick, thankfully. That would put her at… what? 160 pounds, at least? Cassandra was also noticeably softer than Steph remembered. Previously, she’d always been struck by how much Cass’s physique resembled a lead pipe — she might have been short and as skinny as a twig, but she was also as hard as iron. Now, Stephanie’s arms were encountering a fair amount of… give, especially when Cass’s legs flopped back down and she sucked in a breath, her gently rounded stomach expanding to its full girth. Clearly, she hadn’t put on 50 pounds of muscle. Stephanie swung her arms up to drape over Cass’s shoulders, leaning forward and allowing the stockier girl to support her while she, too, caught her breath. “Great, now you’ve managed to exhaust both of us. I think those pants could keep this up until Judgment Day, though, and that ass? It definitely won’t quit.” “But this is my only clean pair.” “Well, do some laundry! Remember, you don’t have a butler anymore, as snazzy as I might look in a bowtie…” “Steph, class is in 20 minutes!” “Yep.” Steph sighed, then leaned forward to whisper in the dark-haired girl’s ear. “You’re gonna have to try on some of mine.” “Your pants?” Cass squeaked. “Yep.” Stephanie straightened and clapped her hands together, business-like. “All right, ditch the skinny jeans. I will introduce you to my sweats.” “Sweatpants?” Cass scoffed, albeit a bit nervously. “No w—” “We don’t have time for you to flop around for another half hour in my jeans, Cass, and even if you could get them on, I’d be worried you’d try to do an arabesque penchée or something, and then neither of us would have jeans. Though now that I think about it, I might actually be able to get yours on—” “No way.” Cass wrinkled her nose. “Your butt’s too big.” “Ha! Look who’s talking! Now, let’s go, and watch the sass, or you’ll be going to class in your underwear, and we’ll see what everyone has to say about your butt. Maybe Doctor Palmer can give you something to shrink it down so you’re only the size of a narwhal.” “Narwhal?” “Small whale.” Cass bristled, turning to glare at her. “Hey, I said small.” Steph threw up her hands, smiling innocently. The more brooding Batgirl pouted slightly as she turned back toward Stephanie’s room. “Only a little bit of blubber…” Steph leaned over and mischievously pinched Cass’s side, getting quite a handful and eliciting an indignant squeal. Lunging backward, Cass put the taller girl in a one-armed headlock. With no hope of breaking free, Steph tried tickling her, only for Cass to swing her legs up and sweep Steph’s out from under her. Stephanie dropped onto her backside with a surprised “Eep!” while Cassandra landed more gracefully beside her, then leaned forward, grabbing Stephanie’s arms and pulling them over her head, forcing her onto her back and then sliding forward to sit on her chest. “Now who’s fat?” Cass chirped. “Help, help! There’s a narwhal on my chest—” Cassandra rolled her eyes, gathering her legs beneath her and standing with the faintest of grunts before leaning down to take Stephanie’s hand and help her up. Steph stretched. “Nice moves, but you’re definitely puffing a bit. We’ve gotta get you back in shape, so no Baking Club tonight, capiche? You’re going on patrol with me.” “Fine,” Cass grumbled. “What the heck have they been feeding you, anyway?” “Last night?” Cass started holding up fingers, loudly rattling off: “Two eclairs, four sugar cookies, two bowls of apple crisp, two slices of apple pie, four slices of pumpkin pie, and three slices of chocolate cake…” “Sweet Mary and Joseph, Cass!” Stephanie stared. “It’s no wonder you can’t fit in your pants – I’m surprised you fit in the front door! Is there some kind of rule against leftovers?” “I’m the taste tester. Gotta double-check every batch.” “Oh, so you were just doing your duty, huh?” Steph cocked an eyebrow, hands on her hips. “Wanna tell me about that third slice of cake, Champ?” Cass blushed slightly. “Addie brought home leftovers and asked if I wanted some.” “And it didn’t occur to you to say, ‘No thanks, I’m supposed to play the lead in a ballet production in a couple weeks and really can’t afford to put on, oh, five hundred pounds in a single semester?’ Not to mention being a damned superhero…” “Hey, this was all your idea!” Cassandra complained. “Don’t remind me. I feel like I lit a fire in the Sistine Chapel.” Steph pulled open a drawer and rummaged for her roomiest Fat Pants™, experimentally stretching the elastic before handing them to Cassie. “All right. Start wriggling, Tubby.” Proportionally, Cass was definitely rounder than her roommate, but fortunately, being somewhat shorter as well meant that the pants would have normally been big on her and were now merely unbearably tight. She managed to get them on, then breathed a secret sigh of relief. Stephanie applauded, similarly glad the crisis was temporarily averted. “Okay, we should probably run.” Cass nodded, and the two of them exited, stopping by Cass’s room so she could grab her backpack. Steph glanced at the pointe shoes dangling from the backpack and bit her lip slightly. “So, by the way, um, how are things going with the production?” “Fine.” “Oh. Uh, good.” “Is this about my weight?” “Nooo…” The two stepped into the hallway. Cass glanced back, scowling slightly. “Well, it hasn’t been an issue. I can still dance.” “Like, for longer than five minutes?” “Yes! Just, um, a bit slower.” “Well, I guess there’s one bright side to all this,” Steph sighed. “What?” “Simon is going to get swole AF from having to lift your porky butt…” ***** It was about 10 minutes until class, and Addie was the only one in the classroom apart from Simon, who was arranging materials on the front desk. He glanced up at her and cocked an eyebrow. “It’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” “What?” she frowned. “The hat.” Her frown became a bit more severe. “It was the easiest get-up I could come up with. Costumes are a real pain, you know that?” “I’d imagine so.” “At least it’s only once a year…” He shrugged. “It’s always Halloween somewhere.” “Even around here?” “Especially around here.” He sat behind the desk, eying her intently. “How long have you known, by the way?” “Um, I don’t think I want to talk about it right now. It’s almost class time.” “Not unless I say so.” Simon smirked. “I could cancel class entirely if need be, send all the other students home except you and your—” He paused, glancing at some sheets and scribbling something on one of them before glancing up. “D...” “Why stop at a D? Just flunk me already, if you think you’d get away with it.” Addie crossed her arms. “Physics aren’t that important, anyway.” “Physics isn’t that important,” Simon corrected. “The class is a singular object.” “Wasn’t talking about the class.” She sighed, peering out the window and wondering if it would snow that night. Hopefully not. She hated the cold. “Oh, yes. Of course not.” Simon blinked, then cleared his expression again, fingers drumming on the desk. “Anyway, how’s your father?” Addie started to stand up, while he didn’t move so much as an inch, merely glancing at her. A yellow light glinted in his eye. Addie gritted her teeth but sat back down, knowing that she couldn’t lose her temper. That was a mistake that had already cost her a great deal… “He’s fine.” “Glad to hear it.” Simon smiled. “Any big plans for tonight?” “If there were, you’d know about them.” She sighed, then glanced down and realized that her fingernails were digging into the desk. She hastily shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well, better get a move on… with that assignment…” Simon’s eyes slid to the left, and he smiled. Students started trickling in, and he marked each one with a stroke on the attendance sheet. About two minutes before the start of class, Stephanie entered… check… followed shortly by Cassandra… double-check… Addie glanced up as Cass sat down next to her with her typical, casual plop – the other girl had a unique talent for blending the graceful and graceless, as if she took no care in her movements but nevertheless always arrived where she wanted with no need for the slightest adjustment. At the beginning of the semester, her chair made no complaints about this reckless treatment. Cassie had been so light that she would have had to consciously hurl herself at the seat to make any impact on it. Today, though, it groaned in protest at the distinct change in the Batgirl’s bulk. Addie did her best to avoid staring. Clearly, Cass hadn’t put that leftover cake in the fridge… “Hey.” “Happy Halloween,” Steph responded from over Cass’s shoulder. “Nice hat!” “Thanks.” Addie smiled, a little weakly. When she had looked in the mirror that morning, the big pointy get-up had seemed a little sly and ironic. Suddenly, it seemed very stupid. Maybe it was because she could feel Simon watching out of the corner of his eye. Fortunately, Steph hadn’t loaded anything into the comment, and Cass was just thinking about dinner, as usual… “You guys, um, doing anything later?” “Yeah, gonna check out the town after it gets dark.” “Oh. Um, why, though? It’s so boring around here, I’d think you’d be going to a party or something.” “Nah, Cass would never go for that.” Steph waved dismissively. “We’ll probably just binge-watch scary movies.” “Didn’t Cass tell you? The Baking Club is getting together to make a bunch of Halloween stuff, and a bunch of other people will be dropping by for snacks.” “Yeah, about that…” Steph elbowed Cass. Cass straightened, clearing her throat. “Sorry, I can’t come tonight. I’ve had… too many snacks lately.” She glumly patted her pudgy stomach, which rolled in front of her like a tiered cake. Addie’s eyes widened a shade. “Oh. I mean, you could come and just… not…” Cass’s stomach rumbled. “…eat…” Simon cleared his throat. “All right, everyone. I have to step in for Doctor Palmer for a few days. He’s come down with a fever. Don’t worry, though, he’s very small… Sorry, it’s very small.” He snorted sheepishly, and Addie’s gaze slid over to Stephanie, who had straightened at the private joke. Okay, so he knows… And she knows… And now she knows he knows… Addie wondered if that quip was intended for Steph’s benefit. Addie had found out about Dr. Ray Palmer’s “little” secret on her first day in class when he started thinking about an investigation he was working on with the Batman. She didn’t know how Simon knew — as far as she could tell, Palmer had never taken him into any sort of confidence, but since the good Doctor’s absence might well be a bit longer than the school board knew, there was nothing to stop him from pretending he had… She remembered what Simon said: “If you can handle one, I can handle the other.” Of course, that arrangement wasn’t going great if Cass was dieting. Maybe the slow but steady approach had been a miscalculation… Simon was now clarifying some points about their recent Physics exam, and then he moved over to the chalkboard, sketching what appeared to be the front of a house. “All right, some of you probably know this place. Now, who…” A number of hands went up. “Great, okay… Adam?” “That’s the Seymore house, right?” a tall boy with freckles asked. “Yep! Lydia, do you want to tell us a bit about it?” “Sure.” A girl with blue hair and piercings nodded. “Rachel Seymore was mayor of Ivy Town, but she was murdered 20 years ago on Halloween—” “Lyd, I’m pretty sure it was July,” the girl sitting next to her hissed. Lydia blinked. “Oh. Thanks for the input, Barbara.” Simon smiled. “I didn’t know that. Still, let’s go with Halloween, for the purposes of this discussion—” “I could Google it,” Barbara (who Addie knew from experience liked nothing more than being right) offered. “No thank you– Ah, Lesley! Good to see you.” The tall girl had tried to sneak in, slightly later than even her usual 10 minutes. “Hey.” She waved, blushing a little. Addie knew she had a crush on Simon, which was probably part of the reason she wanted to eviscerate Cass. “We were just discussing the Seymore house,” Simon said pleasantly. “You’ve lived here your whole life… You must know the stories.” “Oh, yeah, I do.” Lesley nodded. She cleared her throat, then began speaking quickly. “The Seymores were a very old family around here, uh… Old money, too. People used to say they had a fortune buried on the property somewhere, and most people said that’s why Mayor Rachel Seymore got chopped up by an intruder.” She leaned forward, smirking a little and clearly enjoying the fact that she had the attention of everyone in the room, especially Simon. “But other people say that’s not what happened at all… They say Miss Seymore was targeted for an occult ritual… Oh, and on the night of a total lunar eclipse, too. “Her murder was supposed to summon a demon, but a friend showed up and blew the killer’s brains out before the ritual was complete, leaving the knife embedded in Rachel’s chest, twitching from side to side in time with her frantically beating heart. Despite the ritual being disrupted, it was still too late for her, so the knife slowly stopped moving as she bled out on the carpet. “Her spirit’s haunted the place ever since, and every year, she’s risen from her grave on Halloween night. She won’t be satisfied until she’s punished three people in this town, selected for reasons known only to her. One of the three has their body destroyed, one has their mind destroyed, and one… has their soul destroyed.” She straightened, glancing around the room. Simon chuckled nervously, glancing at the hallway. “Goddamn, Lesley… Never heard it quite that way… Okay, though, yeah. That’s your assignment, guys.” The entire class blinked. “What, uh… What do you mean?” Adam asked. “Oh, sorry. The Seymore house. Not the murder. Or the blood moon ritual.” Simon nodded at the drawing, beginning to write a list of instructions on the blackboard. “I’m gonna end class early today, and you should use the extra time to swing by the Seymore place. Report back the spookiest thing you observed, and in class tomorrow, we’ll discuss whether they were definitely supernatural phenomena or if there’s the possibility of some other, physical explanation involving the Newtonian principles we’ve been applying so far this semester. Doctor Palmer told me to give you a quiz, but that will be the only question on it, so as long as you are in attendance and have something prepared, you should all be able to bump up your class averages a bit!” Several in the class sighed in relief as he turned to face the room, but the hair stood up on the back of Addie’s neck, and she sensed Simon’s gaze roaming the classroom like the glowing red dot of a sniper rifle. “Not that all of you need it.” He smiled, glancing at Stephanie. “Still, I hope to see most—” He was looking at Lesley now. “—of your lovely, hung-over, and/or chocolate-stuffed faces—” He glanced at Cassandra. “—tomorrow.” He looked at Addie. “Have a Happy Halloween!” She swallowed, looking at Cass and hissing, “Hey, are you sure you can’t—” “Yeah, sorry.” Cass shrugged helplessly with a glance at Steph. “We can hang out tomorrow, though!” “Yeah…” Addie forced a weak smile. …but what if tomorrow’s too late? ***** Cass hit the showers a bit harder than usual after rehearsal that night. They had all been told they could leave a little early to enjoy Halloween, but that meant whipping through major movements from every scene in the production in a very short period. By the end, they were all sweating profusely – especially Cass, who had more dance numbers than most of the other performers. Not to mention the extra baggage she was carrying lately, which her skintight leotard did very little to hide… Worse, it appeared that Lesley was finally willing to comment on it. Cass was surprised she had held back this long, but perhaps she had been worried that premature taunting would motivate Cass to quickly rebound – now, it was far too late for her. Given how quickly opening night was approaching, she could only hope to attain the status of “slightly pudgy ballerina” rather than “distinctly pudgy ballerina.” Lesley was clearly going to have a ball either way. She blocked Cass’s way to the stall where she normally liked to switch outfits, leaning against the changing room lockers, then stepping forward so her lean frame loomed over the shorter girl, though it (of course) couldn’t come close to eclipsing her. “Get a good workout in, Chubs?” She smirked. “I guess.” Cass shrugged. Lesley laughed. “Look at that… even your fat little shoulders squish together like Play-Doh. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say those big towels are meant to cover as much of you as possible… Don’t want to show off your killer abs while you’re strutting around anymore? What changed? C’mon. Give us a peek.” “C’mon, Cass, show us what you’ve got!” One of the other girls echoed, and the rest began chanting, “Cass! Cass! Cass! Cass!” Cassandra sighed. She had been hoping that if she got away early enough, she could ask Addie to stop for burgers – quick enough that Steph wouldn’t ask probing questions when she got back to the apartment. Apparently, though, if Cass wanted Big Belly, she’d need to let Lesley have some first. She sighed again, then lifted up one of the towels wrapped around her torso, allowing her round stomach and ample love handles to plop free. The other girls cheered, and most of them did so unironically. To the ones who liked Cass, this was more of an opportunity to prove her humanity than an attempt to humiliate her. Almost an initiation. Of course, to the ones who didn’t like her… “Nice gut.” Lesley stepped out of the way but leaned toward Cassandra again as she walked past, giving the other girl an unsubtle hip check that made Cass’s much larger butt wobble from side to side. “Doubt I’ll get to roll your fat ass out of this production, Butterball, but good luck getting cast again in the next one. The way that I see it, you’ve got much bigger things in store.” With that threat, she left the room, and Cass glanced back before pushing the unpleasant thought from her head and continuing on her way. “Hey, Cass.” One of the other girls walked next to her. “You all right? I shouldn’t have laughed—” “It’s fine, Mia. I’ve got to run, though. I’ve got—” She broke off as her stomach rumbled loudly. “A, uh, thing,” she finished weakly. Mia giggled, then blushed. “Oh, crap, not again. I’m so sorry…” Cass retreated into the stall, letting the towels drop and glumly surveying her body. The rest of them were right to laugh, she knew. She didn’t look like a ballerina – she looked like a marshmallow. She didn’t dare weigh herself, but she had packed on easily a few dozen pounds. They were soft, too. She’d seen plenty of girls who carried some extra fat and looked sturdy. Strong. These days, Cass only needed a stiff breeze to start jiggling, and there was quite a breeze tonight… [Chapter 4 available here: https://www.deviantart.com/weapona/art/Batgirl-WG-Lunar-Eclipse-4-960315902. I'll also be uploading it to Curvage soon]

Chapter 2 (Two weeks later) Cassandra loved ballet. There was something in it that spoke to her on what could only be described as a spiritual level. It allowed her to express her simmering physical energy in a way that felt simple. Wonderful. Pure. When the music started to play, she was creating something. She was telling a story, but a strange one, one that didn’t require her to use words, remember names, or find the right slang. It wasn’t something her father had forced on her or even something her new family had encouraged. As much as Cass loved Steph, Bruce, Tim – all of them! – she sometimes felt a little out of place, always on the back foot as she tried to connect with people whose life experiences were so different. Things most of them took for granted (sports, fashion, politics, gossip, movies) were foreign lands she had barely begun to explore. Sometimes, she needed to find a place all her own, to throw herself into something physically, to let her own movement speak and shout and sing. It wasn’t quite what she had been raised for – she’d been taught grace, poise, and speed, but not so she could create. She was born to be a goddess of the hunt… until something in her had balked at that. Since she first learned what it truly felt like to kill, she had run from that feeling, desperate for peace and atonement. But where could someone like her go for such things, when it seemed like all she was good for was violence and when everything else made her feel like a clumsy, contemptible imposter? She’d found a lot of peace as Batgirl. Bruce had shown her that fighting didn’t have to mean killing. She could be better than her father. She couldn’t take back the harm she’d done, but she could devote the rest of her life to standing in the way of those who would seek to do the same harm. She could be a hero. She could be good. And yet, somehow, even that hadn’t fully erased Cassandra’s turmoil. Sometimes, she’d punch some bullying thug, and God help her, it felt right. She was doing what she had been made for: still fighting, still looking for weak points, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Not tonight, though. Tonight, Cass could taste something like liberation, a moment where her course was clear. She knew what she had to do, and she knew that she could do it, and best of all, she knew that she would have no regrets when she got back to the apartment and hopped in the shower, allowing warm water to wash away the workout and loosen her stiff muscles. Sometimes, while drying off, she would pop in the CD her instructor had given her and dance around the living room. Not that she needed the practice, of course. Her time in class was more than enough to master and memorize the movements – her body was a perfectly honed instrument, so she only needed to ask what to do, never how to do it. Cass elected to practice anyway, though, because she loved Tchaikovsky and Swan Lake. She loved its moments of stirring triumph, its moments of cheerful wit, and its moments of bewilderment – of soft, mournful contemplation… The music spoke to her on an intimate level, reassuring her that none of her feelings were truly strange or monstrous. There were some things she could never put into words because words still felt like a distraction, a cheap parlor trick that interfered with the visceral business of life… Now, though, she could express these things in another way, a conversation with herself that others could watch. Then, as the music washed over all of them, they all began to feel the same things, and in those moments, Cassandra was finally understood. Cass completed Odile’s pas de deux and returned to the studio, where she was greeted by awestruck stares. She flushed a bit, both from adrenaline and self-consciousness, but she was saved from the awkward silence by the sound of clapping coming from close behind her. She turned to face her scene partner, Simon, who was playing the male lead, Prince Siegfried. His face was bright red beneath his smoothly combed black hair, and despite his equally bright smile, Cass could tell he was utterly exhausted. They had been scheduled to perfect individual components of the 10-minute sequence for at least another three weeks before attempting to run through the whole thing, but Cass had been ready to try, and Simon had been… well, at least willing to try. Cass dipped her head, and she clapped for him, too, while the rest of the auditorium echoed with the applause of the other dancers. “That was incredible,” Simon whispered. “Thanks.” Cass smiled. “You were good, too.” Steph had been quite jealous when she learned that Cass would be performing opposite the handsome TA from their chemistry and physics classes (to the point that she’d considered flunking their first exam in order to receive remedial tutoring). Cass was slightly less enamored, though. Although Simon was a good dancer and seemed nice, there was something… off about him. Sometimes, he carried himself a little too smoothly, and other times, he was so still he might have been a corpse, were it not for the breathing and those twinkling green eyes. His every movement seemed carefully calculated, which made him very hard to read. Cass instinctively distrusted such people because, in her experience, they were only ever dangerous. Ironically, she was more comfortable dealing with Lesley. The latter hated her guts, but at least she wore that hatred on her sleeve. Seeing her tightly compressed lips and crossed arms, there was no doubting her thoughts about the new ballerina. Cass was glad she hadn’t brought her jeans to switch into after practice, knowing what was in store for her later… Adrianna was waiting outside in her car, a vintage model that was 75% hood. Apparently, her father was a collector. Cassandra had met a lot of wealthy people in Gotham, but until coming to Ivy, she had never hung out with them. She had soon learned that Adrianna (“Addie”) had weird taste in cars, poor taste in boyfriends, and no taste in clothes. Still, she had a license, and Cass didn’t (mainly due to laziness about scheduling her driver’s test – she usually slept through standard operating hours, and it wasn’t as if operating a Batmobile was legal either way). Cass didn’t even have time to close the door before Adrianna hit the gas, taking them over to Lesley’s apartment, where the Baking Club meetings were held. It was a pretty silent drive, which Cass wouldn’t have ordinarily minded, but something seemed different tonight. “Are you okay?” Cass asked. Adrianna’s eyes narrowed, her hands clutching the wheel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Fine,” she bit out. Silence reigned again, but only for a moment. Cass heard a faint buzzing, which appeared to come from Addie’s phone. “Want me to check that?” “No!” Adrianna glanced at her sharply. “Okay.” Cass blinked. Fortunately, they arrived soon after, and Cass braced herself as she exited the car. As soon as she entered the apartment, warm and sugary smells washed over her. Apparently, some of the girls who weren’t involved in the show had come early. To Cass, this was all seeming more and more like a trap. “Hey there, Swan Princess,” Lesley called, sauntering over. With her flowing, wavy, chestnut hair and a couple of cute freckles to add a hint of girl-next-door innocence to her delicate cheekbones, she was annoyingly pretty – tall, too. She would have towered over Cass even if she wasn’t wearing heeled boots that elevated her another inch or two closer to the ceiling. “Fashionably late?” “You just got here, too.” Cass frowned. “You’re still wearing your shoes.” “I guess I am.” Lesley crossed her arms. “The girls just finished a batch of chocolate chip cookies. You hungry?” Cass’s stomach rumbled in anticipation, but she did her best to shrug nonchalantly. “I guess.” “Bet you worked up quite an appetite tonight.” Lesley’s lip curled. “Not that you aren’t always a bottomless pit. I should make you eat all those scones you burned the other night. Still, I wouldn’t want to hospitalize our company’s little celebrity.” “Yeah.” Cass shrugged again. “If you did, you’d have to take over Odette and Odile, which would be hard for you since you haven’t picked up the chora- choreography.” “At least I can say big words without stammering, dumbass.” Cass flushed, trying to come up with a clever retort. WWSD…? “Don’t be a bitch, Lesley.” Adrianna stepped between the two of them, looking more irritable than ever. “You know she’s ESL.” “You’re right.” Lesley’s expression softened, but she couldn’t fool Cass. The rest of her body was still tense, radiating hostility. “Sorry about that, Cassie. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.” “Mhm. Let’s get on with it.” Cass sighed, walking past her and sitting down in a chair at the dining room table. Ever since Lesley had witnessed Cass’s remarkable appetite, she had seemed determined to map out its limits as some bizarre form of vengeance. She insisted that Cass try at least two items from every batch the Club produced, which might amount to a small mountain of desserts by the end of the meeting. Cass was usually close to vomiting by the time Lesley was done with her, but she refused to give the other girl the satisfaction of seeing her waver. Plus, the food was good, regardless of how full she might be. A part of Cass wondered if Lesley was secretly trying to fatten her up, leaving her unfit to play the lead. If so, she would be sorely disappointed… Eight chocolate chip cookies, four peanut butter cookies, two slices of lemon meringue pie, four slices of chocolate pie, two pieces of pumpkin bread, and six scones later, Cass’s stomach was lifting the hem of her t-shirt. Ordinarily, that would be Lesley’s signal to call it a night, but tonight, she had an ace up her sleeve – a towering chocolate fudge layer cake, almost as sickeningly sweet as her smirk. She got no reaction from her victim. In the course of her training, Cass had learned to take a bullet to the shoulder without so much as flinching. A pile of frosting sure as hell wasn’t going to crack her. So, instead, she watched impassively as the other ballerina began to cut out a massive slice, but then… “C’mon, Lee. I think she’s had enough.” Adrianna scowled. “C’mon yourself, Addie. This one was yours, wasn’t it? Don’t you want to hear how it compares to the rest, directly from Her Majesty?” “Like you said, it’s mine, so I’ll decide who—” “Hey.” Cass frowned. “I’m fine.” “No, you’re not. You’re gonna freaking tear something open—” “You heard her, Addie.” Lesley finished cutting the cake, sauntering over to Cass and offering her the plate. “Eat up, Piglet. Oink, oink.” Cassandra didn’t look at her, and she didn’t bother with the fork, either. She picked up the cake slice, opened her mouth as wide as she could, and crammed the whole thing in, smearing chocolate on her cheeks as she began to slowly chew. After a moment, she paused, wide-eyed. “Oh, crap. I’m gonna grab a bucket…” one of the other girls muttered. Cass didn’t respond. She didn’t hurl, either. Instead, she sat very still, slowly finished chewing, and glanced up at Adrianna. She nodded once. “See?” Lesley laughed, smacking Cass’s shoulder. “I told you—” Cass was on her feet before the taller girl could blink, standing so close she knocked her back a pace. Cass was a head shorter than Lesley and substantially skinnier, and her face had adopted a pallid sheen to complement her stomach, which had inflated like a football under her shirt. Nonetheless, Lesley blinked nervously. “Good, right?” she managed to bite out with a weak facsimile of her usual smirk. “I am full,” Cass announced, swaying. “I’m going to leave now.” “Okay,” Lesley squeaked. Cass headed for the door, a bit light-headed, only pausing for a few seconds to give Adrianna time to grab her cake and follow. They headed to the car, where Cass exhaled slowly as she sat, balancing Addie’s leftovers in what remained of her lap. She didn’t bother with her seatbelt, and Addie started driving without a word. Neither spoke until they were nearing the apartment complex where both lived, at which point Addie, still looking straight ahead, asked: “Why did you let her do that?” … “Honestly, Cass, I don’t understand why you’re even still coming over. Is it really fun to be repeatedly humiliated and stuffed like a moose on someone’s mantle?” “No.” “Then why…?” “Why do you?” Cass challenged. “You’re not friends with them. You don’t like it.” “No, I… I… I guess you’re right.” Addie sighed as they pulled up in front of the building. “I hate all of those creeps. You know I was the one who started that stupid club? But before I knew it, they voted to put Lesley in charge. She didn’t even tell me when they switched locations. I had to ask one of the other girls. Felt like I was freaking beggi— DAMMIT!” Her phone had started buzzing again, and she lunged to grab it before smacking it repeatedly against the side of the dashboard, then slowly drawing it closer to her face and tapping the screen. Her hands were shaking. Cass hesitated for a long moment. “Addie…” “What?” “This cake.” Cass nodded at it. “What about it?” “It’s… good. Really good. You’re a good cook.” “Oh yeah?” Addie slowly lowered her phone. “Is that why you didn’t put up more of a fight with Lesley?” Cass squirmed a bit, then sighed. “No, I– I guess not. It could’ve tasted like crap, and I still would’ve—” “Show me.” Adrianna’s eyes narrowed. “What do you—” “It doesn’t taste like crap, right? So, I think you should show me.” Cass snorted, starting to exit the car. “I think I should go to—” “SIT your bony ass DOWN.” Cassandra jerked backward as if jolted, flopping down in the passenger seat. The cake bounced on her lap. “Addie?” She stared. “What’s wrong—” “You are. I’m sick of listening to… to everything you aren’t saying. You, of all people, have no right to be so damn self-loathing!” “Excuse me?” Cass bristled. “What are you—” “I saw you in there. Saw you play Lesley’s dumb game.” Addie clenched her fists, and there was another crackle in Cass’s head like distant thunder. A sudden wind seemed to pick up outside the car. “You were there for the same reason as me, weren’t you? You’re desperate for even a shitty imitation of popularity, you’re too stubborn to get out of a bad situation, and something in you thinks you might even deserve all the bullying. A little stomach ache is a nice distraction, right? Tell me I read you wrong.” Cassandra’s expression twisted in confusion. “Addie, you’re—” “Answer the question, Cass. Yes or no?” Cass was suddenly having trouble focusing, feeling light-headed again. She was so full… It was like she was floating, barge-like, down the rapids… She stared blankly. Didn’t Adrianna have blue eyes before? What was that green glint? “Yes,” she stated numbly. “Fine, then.” Addie’s fists whitened. “Show me how you really feel. If it’s what you really want, punish yourself until you pop like a freaking balloon, for all I care.” Cassandra opened her mouth, but there was that green glint again, and another shock like static electricity, and the wind was howling louder than ever… Suddenly, something delicious and gooey was in her mouth, easily the best thing she had ever tasted. She needed more. More! Cass grabbed fistfuls of chocolate, grunting and groaning. Her stomach was begging her to stop, but her brain was single-minded and devoid of mercy. She stuffed herself breathless, barely inhaling between bites, until finally, she slumped backward, panting and holding an empty platter that had, a mere hour earlier, borne an entire, five-layer cake. Addie watched, her expression cold. Her normally limp, messy hair was sticking out, brushing against the headrest as if subjected to an electric current. She leaned forward and jabbed a finger into Cass’s bulging stomach, eliciting a weak moan. “I don’t know why you’re here, Cassie, but I know what you are. You’re a guilt-ridden tub of shit who thinks that she should beat herself down into a greasy smear. Frankly, it’s exhausting, but if you think it’s some kind of twisted karma for you to hurt yourself, well, maybe I should help. Then, maybe you and the other Batgirl can get the fuck back to whatever cave you flew out of.” Her eyes glinted green, and the passenger door sprang open. “Get out. And please… forget we had this talk.” “Okay.” Cass nodded. “Also, before you go, I suppose I should ask… What are the two of you doing here?” Cass shrugged. “School.” Adrianna stared at her, then exhaled. “Hnh. Figures. Didn’t think I had detected anything else. Still, I guess that at least means you won’t be poking around too much, especially if you’re sufficiently… occupied… You liked that cake, right, Cass?” “Mhm.” “Good. I can work with that.” The green light faded from her eyes, and Cass frowned. She didn’t recall standing up, and she wasn’t sure when the cake had vanished from the tray she was still holding. Had it spilled? And what on earth was going on with Addie’s hair? “What?” the brunette girl asked coolly. “Oh, um, sorry. I… I think there was something I wanted to ask you, but I can’t remember…” She shrugged. “It’ll probably come to you in the morning. Anyway, I’ve gotta get going, okay?” “Sure.” Cassandra nodded. “Thanks for the ride.” “No problem.” Addie sighed. She was silent temporarily, then straightened in her seat. “Hey, Cass…” “Yeah?” Cass exhaled. She was suddenly feeling very lethargic and even more bloated than earlier. The sooner she could crawl into bed, the better. “Welcome to the Club.” Staring blankly ahead, Addie shifted the car into reverse, sliding backward out of the parking spot and then hitting the gas, disappearing into the darkness with the sound of screeching tires and a faint, lingering smell of chocolate. ***** Stephanie wished their school served better coffee. She sat in the cafeteria, idly stirring a spoon in her mug because she needed a break from sipping the foul stuff. How could they be out of sugar packets? She heard familiar, clumping footsteps and slid the mug to the left. “Here you go, Champ. Sounds like you need this more than me.” “Thanks,” Cass mumbled, plopping down next to her and shaking the bench. “Where were you last night?” “Patrol.” Steph shrugged. “See anything?” “What’s to see? Starting to think you might be right about this place.” She yawned, stretching. “The lights turn off, and everything dies. No one even gets ** except between 5:00pm and 8:00pm. How was ballet?” “Good.” Cass brightened. “Ahead of schedule.” “No surprises there… How was Baking Club?” This time, there was a pause. “Good.” “What’s the matter? Lesley giving you crap?” “No, not crap. Just everything else.” “Oh yeah?” Stephanie turned, about to make a joke… and then paused. Her glance at Cassandra’s waist had uncovered something surprising. Ordinarily, even a Size S shirt billowed around the athletic girl like a tent, with her only form-fitting clothing being jeans and some crop tops that showed off her abs. Today was a Size S day, and yet, the shirt was looking tight. Very tight. Was that… pudge? Steph looked away, then looked back again as if to test a hallucination. She had long known the struggle, of course, of looking great in some tight pants, only to sit down and find that every ounce of fat in her torso had congregated to give her the tiniest of muffin tops. Cass wasn’t supposed to have any fat in her torso, though, much less… more? Was it possible that she was bigger than Steph? When the heck did that happen? And she wasn’t even wearing tight pants… As if preparing a clipboard to hand over to insurance, Steph began to inspect the damage point by point now that she knew what to look for. Stomach? Sticking out a bit. Arms? A little softer. Boobs? Slightly less flat. Legs? Slightly more flat. Butt? Definitely pancaking a bit on the bench. Face? Staring quizzically. “Wha[t]?” Cass frowned, cheeks bulging, though Steph was pretty sure that, at least, was just a mouthful of omelet. “Nothing.” Stephanie forced herself to maintain an innocent expression despite the urge to grin mischievously. Apparently, the Freshman 15 had strolled right past her and found her roommate, but she didn’t necessarily want to make Cass self-conscious about it, even if that would be very fun… As much as she loved Cass, Steph had always felt that she was a bit in the other Batgirl’s shadow. Cass was just so good at everything, so perfect and effortlessly graceful, swinging around like Tarzan and kicking everyone’s ass from Monday to the following Saturday. She could tell the second people were lying, and she could scare them into telling the truth just by glowering at them. Well, unless they were Steph. She was largely immune to the Batglare. “What?” Cass repeated, glaring. “Nothing.” “What?” “Pancakes.” “Huh?” “They’re kind of like waffles.” And your butt, Fatso… “Whatever.” Cass sighed. She turned back to her breakfast, only to pause again after a moment. “Have you seen Addie today?” “No, luckily.” Cass shot a reproving glance at her. “Okay, you’re right, sorry.” Steph sighed. “That was mean. I’m sure she’s a nice girl, just… kind of spooky sometimes.” “I’m kind of spooky.” Cass sipped her coffee. “Yeah, but you’re more of a sad-spooky, not spooky-spooky. Uncomfortable stares aside, most people who get to know your cute side just want to shower you in gumdrops and kittens so you’ll be less moody. Addie is…” “She’s my friend.” “Okay, but maybe try being… I dunno… A little careful with that?” “Why?” “I just think that sometimes, when you don’t know a lot of people, you latch on to friendships with the first folks who give you the time of day. A little bit of familiarity goes a long way if you’re scared to talk to—” “Not scared.” “Oh, yeah. Never.” Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Just try to set a high bar, huh?” “You, too.” “Um, what are you implying?” “Simon.” “Cass, don’t do this to me. Did something happen at ballet? Is he a bad person?” Steph paused. “Is he a bad dancer?” Cass sighed. “Great dancer. Person? Can’t tell.” “Well, no news is good news…” “Not always.” “C’mon, Cassie. He’s nice, he’s good-looking, he’s athletic, he’s stupidly smart…” “He’s acting.” “Well, yeah. No one can actually be that perfect.” Steph snorted. “Next time I’m on patrol, I’ll break into his dorm. If he folds his underwear, I’ll know it’s gone too far.” “Gonna hack his phone, too?” “Of course not… Seriously, though, has he actually done anything to set off alarm bells for you?” “No. That’s what’s weird. I can’t watch him because he’s watching himself.” “He probably just wants to make a good impression.” Stephanie waved dismissively. “I would, too, if I was dancing with a complete bombshell and world-class ballerina, putting my hands around her tiny little… ah, around her waist. Especially if she was constantly staring at me, monitoring my every muscle twitch.” “Oh.” Cass hesitated. “I hadn’t thought of that.” “Never fear. I will help you navigate the weird world of boys.” Stephanie’s phone pinged, and she glanced at it, then brightened. “Speaking of, I have a study session with the aforementioned hunk. See you in Chemistry!” Cass frowned. “Why are you studying? You’re top of the class.” “I’m top of the class because I study. Try it sometime!” Steph called, turning to wave as she walked away. Turning back around, she nearly bumped into Adrianna, who was heading over with a tray. “Oops! Sorry.” “Don’t worry, it was my bad,” Addie mumbled without glancing at her. She sat down next to Cass, her unkempt brown hair dangling in front of her face. “Hey, Cass.” “Morning.” Cass glanced at the tray and blinked. “Is that a muffin?” “Yeah. You didn’t see those? Guess they must’ve just started serving ’em. Want some of mine? The caf is closing soon.” “Oh, sure. Thanks.” Cass shrugged, trying to play it cool but licking her lips in anticipation. “Why not?”

[I'm planning to upload this story to Curvage in chunks, but the rest can be read here: https://www.deviantart.com/weapona] Chapter 1 From the time she could walk, Cassandra Cain (aka Batgirl) had moved like a gazelle: hyper-alert, effortlessly sure-footed, and astonishingly quick. Perhaps it was genetics. Her mother was similarly gifted. That being said, Lady Shiva’s was the methodical grace of an apex predator. She was more experienced, knowing precisely what she was capable of (which was a good deal) and recognizing her limits (which comprised a much shorter list). Unstoppable, glacial floes of ice – not fire – pumped through her veins. Cass was younger, though, and blazing with untapped potential. She was still improving, still testing boundaries. If she was ever going to find her limits, she’d surely do it the hard way. She was too reckless, too stubborn – too hungry – for anything else. There was something more than genetics to her, then. Perhaps it was upbringing. In some ways, Cass had been raised like a gazelle by her father, the assassin David Cain: constantly surrounded by lions. The slightest moment of weakness could be a death sentence. The softest, padding footstep, the faintest rustle in the tall grass… She had learned to see and hear everything and to respond with the speed of lightning and the precision of a tornado that could snatch up a carton of eggs and set it down, unscathed, a hundred miles away. That, though, was something no one had taught her, something that made Cassandra neither predator nor prey. Just Cass. Just Batgirl. In spite of her mother, she was merciful. In spite of her father, she was unafraid. For someone who had only ever known violence, she could be surprisingly gentle, which was just as well for her friend Stephanie. “Aaaaugh…” Stephanie Brown (also aka Batgirl) had taught the formerly mute and illiterate Cassandra more words than anyone except perhaps her mentor Barbara Gordon. She even seemed to invent a few new ones every time the two of them sparred, a verbose series of grunts and groans that were unfamiliar to even Cass, who had punched more people than she had spoken to. Unlike Cassandra’s father, Stephanie’s hadn’t taught her to be silent – he hadn’t taught her much of anything, for that matter. She had learned to make her own way in the world, to voice her opinions freely and without apology, almost as if to prove to herself and everyone else that she was, in fact, present and worth paying attention to. People like her father ignored her at their own risk, but not Cass. She truly enjoyed listening to Steph talk. Not that she was doing much of that at the moment, lying on her face with her purple cape splayed to one side. “Uuuuugh…” When compared to most people, Stephanie was an excellent fighter: resilient, quick on her feet, and willing to fight dirty. Cass, on the other hand, found her style slow and clumsy, to put it generously. At least she was learning to fall pretty gracefully, but perhaps that was to be expected. She’d gotten a lot of practice during their weekly sparring sessions, with the rocky cave floor leaving more than a few tears in her old Spoiler costume (which she’d been forced to don while some quick repairs were made to her new, Batgirl suit – similarly mangled, courtesy of the floor). Not even breathing heavily, Cass pulled up her cowl, allowing her small mop of messy black hair to flop forward before she shook most of it out of her face. She leaned forward, flicking through the pockets of Steph’s utility belt until she found her phone and jabbed in the password ($p*!l#r@l#rt!). A moment later, Cass found what she was looking for: a small app labeled with large red letters. Big Belly Burger. “All right, Cheater.” Stephanie grumbled, propping herself up on her elbows and squinting up at Cass. “What am I getting you today?” Cass held out the phone so she could see. “Four quarter-pounders, 2 XL fries, and 2 chocolate milkshakes…” It was an obscene amount of food for a girl who weighed 110 pounds, but Steph’s eyes slid past the alarming calorie counts to the only number that truly concerned her. It, too, amounted to a shockingly high total. “Really, Cassie? A 50% tip?” Cass shrugged. “I need to see if a billionaire will adopt me sometime,” the blonde Batgirl sighed. “Or win sometime.” Cass shrugged again. Steph glared at her through watery, bloodshot eyes. “I don’t know what you’ve more completely destroyed… my body… my soul… or my bank account…” “Want food?” “Not fair, Cass. My wallet… is empty… My stomach… is halfway across the room…” “I’ll have Alfred make tea.” “Thank you. None of that stuff your Mom makes, though!” “It’s good for you. Strong.” Cass flashed a disapproving frown. “Less sugar.” “Don’t talk to me about sugar, Cassie. You drink milkshakes the size of your own freaking torso!” Cass glanced down at her lean, powerful body, patting her rippling abs appraisingly. “Small milkshake, then,” she pronounced happily, turning and walking toward the stairs that wound upward from the Batcave to Wayne Manor. She thrust her tiny but powerful fist defiantly into the air, causing her black cape to flutter behind her. “Need fuel!” “Were you low on fuel before?! Now, there’s a scary thought…” Stephanie managed to sit up, then thought about standing. She thought about it for some time. In fact, she was still thinking about it when Cass returned with her order, which practically overflowed her slender, gauntleted arms. She took the steps two at a time despite the fact that she had a mug balanced on her head – the white one with the tiny Nightwing (Alfred was a collector). Cass dropped the bags full of food on the cave floor, then crouched in front of Steph. “Ooh, yes… Gimme caffeine,” Stephanie moaned, opening and closing her hands. Cass smirked at her and subtly shook her head. The mug hardly wavered. “Brat.” Steph struggled to sit up, reaching feebly, only for her tormentor to hop lightly backward like a little gremlin. This time, the tea spilled a little, a drop trickling down the side of Cass’s face and connecting with her impish smile. “Mm. Sweet.” Stephanie’s eyes flashed. “Oh yeah? Let’s see how you like it—” She tried to grab the greasy fast food bags, but Cass scooped them up before she could so much as blink. Still, she’d made her point, and Cass leaned forward so Steph could retrieve the mug. Then, she hauled Stephanie upright, allowing the still-exhausted girl to lean against her appreciatively. While Stephanie sipped her tea, Cass inspected her own spoils of war, tearing through the paper bags like a wild animal. In addition to everything she’d ordered, Cass had apparently received enough barbecue sauce to fill a small pond. The perks of a 50% tip, presumably. She wasted no time drenching her burgers in the stuff, and even her fries, and a fair amount spilled on her sleek black bodysuit as well. Stephanie laughed. “You might want to go a little easy on the fuel, Cass, before you start to resemble a storage tank. Even your metabolism has its limits!” Cass stared at her for a moment, cheeks puffed out with her mouth full to bursting, then shrugged and returned to her burger before she had even had the chance to swallow. Steph stifled a giggle. Her fellow Batgirl had learned to fight from the greatest warriors on earth, but clearly, none of them had taught her how to eat. Cassandra Cain moved like a gazelle, but she chewed like a hippopotamus. ***** “Yesyesyesyes!” Stephanie jumped off the couch, waving a letter printed in very small type on red-and-gold paper. “Wha[t] i[s] i[t]?” Cass asked through a mouthful of breakfast. “Ivy University.” Her friend grinned widely, her pretty face outshining even her flow of bright, golden hair. “I got the scholarship!” She ran over to the table, giving Cass a fierce hug. Cassandra laughed. “Goo[d] jo[b]!” She swallowed with some difficulty, then swiveled in her seat to properly face Steph, who was practically vibrating. “You’re coming too, right?” Steph demanded. “To Ivy?” Cass hesitated. “What if they need me here?” “Well, gee, I dunno. If only we knew someone who owned a billion private jets, planes, cars, and Bat-boats.” Steph rolled her eyes. “Come on! Ivy Town needs us, Cassie.” Cass scoffed, returning to her small mountain of syrup-soaked, buttery pancakes. “They [s]ay i[t’s] the [s]afe[st] pla[ce] on ear[th].” “Don’t believe everything you see on commercials. Sure, the crime rates are low, but maybe their businesses are secretly in decline. You can save the local economy with your love of breakfast!” It was Cass’s turn to roll her eyes, chugging some freshly squeezed orange juice to wash down Alfred’s world-famous flapjacks. “What about dinner?” “I’m sure they’ve also got plenty of Big Belly Burgers for you to put in your big belly,” Steph quipped, patting Cassandra’s stomach, which was indeed looking a little rounder that morning. “I’m just a little full!” “Well, I guess four plates of pancakes will do that to you, not to mention that…” Stephanie laughed, grabbing a napkin to wipe off some of the syrup covering Cass’s slightly reddened cheeks. “Maybe I shouldn’t count on you getting accepted in the first place, Miss Piggy. A prestigious university may not want to admit such a slob.” “I’ll get in.” Cass smirked. “I’ve got good grades.” “Oh, yeah. I’m sure all those acceptance letters are because of your grades and have nothing to do with every school in the country wanting Bruce Wayne’s daughter as an alumnus…” Cass hummed a little, picking up her fork again but pausing a few inches from the plate. “You think it will be good? School?” “Absolutely. One hundred percent.” “But what if—” “Hey!” Steph slugged her shoulder. “Don’t wimp out on me now. We said we’d get our degrees together. Ivy’s got a great dance program, and given how much your reading has improved, I doubt you’ll even need my help with the other classes.” Cass frowned but then nodded slowly. “Okay. We can try i—” Stephanie hugged her again, laughing and rocking from side to side. Cass could feel her pulse with excitement and smiled a little in spite of herself. Glancing at the brochure Steph had dropped on the table, she saw big buildings with classical architecture… spotless dorm rooms and pearly smiles… cloudless skies and freshly cut grass. It all made Cassandra a little uneasy, though. In a place like that, what could go wrong? ***** “I’m bored…” Cassandra fell lightly on her back, sprawling with effortless, haphazard grace across a massive blue couch with her small booted feet dangling over an armrest. Her left arm drooped toward the floor, gloved fingers picking restlessly at the carpet. Stephanie glanced up from the loose papers spread around her desk. “Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you come in.” “I can’t hear anything either,” Cass grumbled. “You know, most people see the lack of crime as a good thing.” “It is good,” she conceded. “But I know there must be criminals somewhere, and that’s where I should be.” “You should be in class. Maybe you wouldn’t be so bored if you didn’t sleep all morning, mope around all afternoon, and stay up till a quarter to five roaming the streets.” “It’s so quiet,” Cass insisted, frowning. “I must be missing something. No place is this quiet.” “Trust me, compared to Gotham, most places are going to seem boring, but if you’re willing to look around, you might be surprised what you uncover.” “I have been looking—” “Cass, I mean at school.” Stephanie crossed her arms. “Join a club or something. The other students won’t bite. Much. Probably.” Cass tilted her head. “What does that mean?” Steph hesitated. “Just that you’re not around much, and when you are, you’re very… quiet. People think you’re judging them. Or planning to kill them. Or planning to kill and eat them. You should try blinking more.” “Hmm.” Cass pursed her lips. She couldn’t really deny what Stephanie was saying – she could read body language better than most, and she could acknowledge that her own was not always the most casual or friendly. “Or you know…” “What?” Cass stared. Steph looked at her for a moment. Then, slowly, the corners of her mouth turned up and pulled back. “No.” “Why not?” she sighed. “I smile when I’m happy. When I’m at school, I’m bored. All the time.” Stephanie frowned, then abruptly stood up. “No. Not all the time.” She was grinning again. Cass blinked up at her. “What?” “I know something that makes you smile…” “Yeah?” “Food!” “Oh. How does that—” “You could join the Baking Club!” Steph suggested. “There’s a club for that?” “There’s a club for everything.” “But I can’t cook.” “I’ll give ya some pointers. They’ll never be able to tell.” “Steph, you can’t cook either. Why do you think we order out all the time?” Stephanie scowled. “Hey, that’s on you and that garbage disposal you call a stomach.” Cass shrugged. “Try winning.” “How about you try a freaking vegetable?!” “No.” Cass swung her legs up, flipping gracefully backward onto her feet and stretching, her cape sliding off of the couch and flowing smoothly around her petite but muscular frame as she twisted around. “Bedtime.” “I’m forging your signature on the sign-up sheet tomorrow,” Stephanie warned. Cassandra yawned. “If they want me, I’ll be in my bed.” She started to walk away, then stopped, halted in her tracks by a familiar gurgling. “Snack first,” she muttered. “Can I borrow your phone?” “You know, you have one too.” “Don’t know where it is.” “Probably on a rooftop somewhere… Fine, I guess, but make sure that you get—” Steph broke off. “Actually. On second thought.” Cass crossed her arms. She was getting that look again… “Steph.” “Oh, yesss…?” “What is it.” “I just remembered a little something I left in the fridge.” Steph jogged over to the kitchen. “C’mon. Give it a try!” Cass followed, mildly intrigued. “Give what a try?” “A bunch of clubs had tables set up in the common area, and the Baking Club was giving out samples.” “What kind?” “Cupcakes!” Stephanie grinned before sliding smoothly in front of the container to carefully conceal its Walmart packaging. She grabbed a couple of cupcakes and turned, waving them invitingly. Cass smiled slightly. “Okay, fine.” She took one cupcake, peeled off the wrapper, and popped the treat into her mouth. She chewed for a bit, pupils dilating subtly, then reached for the other one. A moment later, it too was stuffed into her mouth, and she began chewing loudly. “Pretty good, right?” Steph crossed her arms. “Mmm… Mhm…” Cass nodded, her ballooning cheeks wobbling ever so slightly. “So, forget about the cooking. Stick around for the eating. Here, have some more cupcakes!” “Mmm, mm-mmm…” “So, will you sign up tomorrow? Just to give it a try?” “Mmm… Mm-mm.” “Great! Here’s another to celebrate.” (Steph might have bought way too many cupcakes…) ***** The next morning, Cass and Steph headed down to the common room, wandering between tables advertising various student groups. “Ooh, look – gymnastics.” Stephanie nudged her taciturn friend. “You should try out. You’d be great at it!” “No thanks.” Cass shook her head. “Too many people watching.” “Like that’s ever stopped you before, Odette…” Cass flushed. “Ballet is different. When the music starts… No one else is there.” “Fair enough. When are practices, by the way?” “At night.” She scowled. “Great! Less time for sulking around street corners.” “Hnh.” “Don’t worry. I’ll pick up the slack, run around in the dark…” Steph yawned. “I could definitely use the exercise if I want to skip the Freshman 15. Gotta watch my figure.” “All of us have to.” Cass flashed a mischievous smile, nodding pointedly at Steph’s backside, which was by no means large but was undeniably broader and flatter than Cassandra’s small but perfectly sculpted curves. “Have to make room.” “Oh yeah? Are you calling me fat, you little—” Stephanie tried to smack Cass’s shoulder, only to swat a handful of air. “Not fat, just slow.” Cass leaned against a pillar several yards away and smirked. Her smile faded slightly, though, when she realized that half the room was staring at her. “What did I do?” she hissed to Steph. “Won some fans, probably,” Stephanie whispered back. “Half of these tables are for groups of athletes, and you’re the only girl here with a six-pack, dancing around like Muhammad freakin’ Ali. You look like you’d have an easier time breaking the sound barrier than a sweat.” “They should blink more,” Cassandra muttered. Then, her nose twitched, and she barrelled over to one of the tables as if intent on knocking it over. “You make cupcakes?” The girl sitting at the table blinked. “Sometimes.” “Where do I put my name?” “Uh, the clipboard?” “No gymnastics… no soccer… no track,” Cassie declared, scribbling furiously on the paper, then brandishing the pen like a sword. “I am with the Baking Club!” “Bon appétit.” Steph twirled a lock of her hair, wandering over. She glanced down at the slightly rumpled sheet, then up at the girl. “Uh, her name’s Cass. Cass Wayne.” Cass had gotten pretty good when it came to the movements of handwriting and the shape of letters, but unfortunately, she would sometimes put five or six of those shapes in a space only a few millimeters wide, especially when she got excited. “Oh.” The girl nodded. “Okay. Email address?” Stephanie shifted over and picked up the pen. “Cass, do you want me to…?” Cass had already moved on to inspecting the plates of samples, which Stephanie decided to take as a “yes.” “I’m Stephanie, by the way,” she chirped while jotting Cass’s email down. “Nice to meet you. I’m Adrianna.” Adrianna was a pale, brunette girl with a thin face that seemed inclined to frown. She frowned now, glancing from Stephanie to Cassandra with a mildly curious expression. The two didn’t look much alike, nor act much alike. Stephanie seemed upbeat and laidback, a bright personality with a colorful flair. She was a little on the tall side and in good shape. Her hair was long, straight, and blonde, and her lightly freckled features were a touch soft but well-defined. She seemed quick to smile and carried herself casually, wearing roomy, high-waisted jeans that flattered her curvy, borderline buxom figure and perfectly matched her pink sweater. Cassandra didn’t wear much pink. She seemed a bit uneasy in the crowded area, slouching a bit with her hands held close to her body. Her face was small and round, with a similarly small, round nose and big brown eyes. Her hair was short and messy – clean, but sloppily maintained. The look suited her, though, partly because apart from her clothes (a baggy crop top and a pair of black shorts that sagged slightly at the waist), there wasn’t much else that was sloppy about her. She looked like an Olympic gymnast, barely five feet tall but with legs thicker than her waist. Her arms were slender but tightly muscled, and her expression alone would have been compelling evidence that she packed more of a wallop than most people twice her size. “She doesn’t look like she’d be that much into food,” Adrianna remarked slowly. Steph chuckled. “Oh, you’d be surprised. She’s a ballerina.” And also a crime-fighting super-ninja… Adrianna’s eyes bugged. “What?” Steph laughed. The other girl chuckled weakly. “Oh, uh, nothing. That just, um… explains it. Our Club’s president is a ballerina, too, and she eats as much as a football player. Skinny as a twig, though.” “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that Cass here eats as much as a football team… Isn’t that right, Cassie?” “Hm?” “You know, you probably shouldn’t sample everything, Champ.” “It’s fine.” Adrianna sighed. “This is our last day out here, and Lesley said that I have to eat any leftovers to keep them from going stale.” “Oh. Is Lesley—” “The president, yeah. She was annoyed because I kept coming up with excuses to skip working these recruitment tables, so today, I’m doing it all myself…” “Nice.” Stephanie snorted. “I mean, she sometimes is.” Adrianna bit her lip. “She’s just been in an especially bad mood lately because some new rich kid came in and stole the—” She broke off, glancing at Cassandra and clearly doing some quick mental arithmetic. Stephanie put the pieces together even more quickly. She laughed nervously. “You know, could we take that name off the list…?” “Why?” Cass interjected, seeming to have noticed the change in Steph’s demeanor. “What’s wrong?” “Well, um, it sounds like the Baking Club’s president might, you know…” Stephanie flashed a forced, apologetic grin. “…hate you.” Cass paused. “Why? Too much staring?” “Too much starring, actually. I guess you’re just too much of a prima ballerina, Champ!” “She’s mad I got the lead?” “Uh, yeah. You’re new here, so people who have been here a while might feel like they’ve done more to earn the top spot, even though you undoubtedly, completely deserve it, and if I hear even one clown say ‘nepotism—’” “Nepo…” “Nepotism. It’s when… um… when people get extra opportunities just because of who’s in their family, which totally isn’t—” Cass straightened. “They don’t think I’m good enough?” “Aw, who cares what they think?” Stephanie waved dismissively. “I just thought maybe you could, like, make sure to avoid this Lesley person at all costs.” “Why? I’m not scared of her!” “Of course not, but I’m trying to—” “When’s the first meeting?” Cass leaned toward Adrianna, who had begun to gather the remaining plates of food. “Tuesday at 9:30.” Steph perked up at this glimmer of hope. “Cass, when’s ballet?” “Six-thirty to nine.” “Oh. Right.” Steph supposed that this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. When one was president of the Baking Club, one could make sure meetings weren’t until after one’s other stuff… Worse, this Lesley had to be pretty deranged to schedule something at such a late hour on a school night… “Are you gonna eat all of that?” Cass asked Adrianna. “Unless someone rescues me.” “I can take that. And that. And—” “Do you want the tablecloth, too, while you’re at it?” “Be careful what you suggest. She’d probably eat the chairs if they were frosted.” Stephanie rolled her eyes. She placed her hands on Cass’s shoulders, steering her away from the table. “C’mon. We’ve got class. You might have all the snacks your greedy heart desires, but I intend to feast my eyes on that TA with the nice…” Her voice slowly faded in the distance. The brown-haired girl watched them go, then sat in silence for a very long moment before quietly standing and gathering up the corners of the tablecloth. She pulled them together, drawing up the few remaining plates of snacks into a tightly packed bundle. Then, she began humming as she wandered over to the nearest trash can, dropping it all inside without a second thought for the discarded food – not even the most resilient of the bunch, a tray of cherry jigglers that collapsed into a gelatinous heap at the bottom of the trash can and wobbled feebly for several moments as if trying to escape.