Fandom: Birds of Prey
Pairing: Barbara Gordon/Katarina Armstrong
Spoilers: Birds of Prey 101
Disclaimer: DC Comics is the creator of these characters; I don’t do this for profit.
Summary: Kat and Babs play a game. Babs loses. Mostly. Maybe.
Kat’s covered in the grit and dried debris of a mission in the field, the way a Suicide Squad member tends to find herself after a week in the field, and what Babs is thinking, when she can manage to think, is that Katarina shouldn’t have been able to find her. No one else so far has found her, nobody else has even thought about finding her…
“God, you’re something else,” Kat says, one hand on her hip as Barbara stares at the line of this woman in combat fatigues belted over a body that is sleek, hard muscle. “I was expecting, I dunno, some fat fuck who had his hand down his pants, getting off on playing God and watching it all play out.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” Babs says hoarsely, aware that she has just licked her lips to deal with the fact that her mouth is dry. “How the hell did you find me, Katarina?”
Katarina makes a disappointed noise. “I’m not going to just tell you, Oracle,” she says with a throaty little growl of a laugh. “I beat your very good little system, and if you’re as good as you think, you’ll figure it out yourself. And you’ve learned a good lesson to boot.”
“Never trust your allies?” Babs asks dryly.
“See,” and Katarina moves two steps closer, looking at Barbara with a wicked smirk. “You’re a smart woman. Just a little too trusting.”
At this distance, Babs can see that underneath her travel-stained tank, Katarina’s stomach is as sleekly muscled as her thighs and something in her wants to run her palm over that skin, feel the hardness.
“So what are you going to do with me, now that you’ve proven I can be outgamed, Katarina?” Barbara makes herself ask, swallowing and turning her face up so that Kat’s eyes meet hers and the sizzle of electricity is mutual.
So mutual that Katarina pauses in her lecture to just stare at Barbara, and butterflies shudder in Babs’s stomach.
“Gather my treasure and leave you to start the next round, Oracle,” Katarina says, and the second shudder comes from Babs knows that Kat doesn’t know her name. She hasn’t completely won, and Babs hasn’t quite lost the round yet.
So it’s not really that hard to grab her escrima stick, knock Katarina to her knees and then seize her by the front of her shirt.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Babs says, letting lust give her the hard edge that she can’t find in anger. “You don’t even know my name.”
Katarina snarls, baring her teeth, but her mouth opens when Barbara pulls her in and kisses hard. Kat’s tongue is deep in Babs’s mouth before either can pull away for breath, and Katarina smells…strangely good.
Like dirt and grime and stale airplane and salt, but like blood and skin and want and Kat’s hand is tangled in Babs’s hair and Babs hears someone moaning and oh, God, it’s her.
“I know you want to fuck me,” Katarina murmurs, rubbing against Babs’s neck and biting on her earlobe. “Say you want to.”
“Mmm, I want to,” Babs admits, fingers running over muscle as hard and perfect as hers used to be. “But you don’t give me orders, Katarina.”
She seizes Kat’s wrist, twists it just enough so that she knows it hurts, then leans over and sucks on Katarina’s pinkie, letting her tongue tease down to the webbing between her fingers.
The way Katarina’s teeth catch in her lower lip is very, very nice.
“Please keep doing that,” Katarina breathes, wicked glints in her eyes. “Or I might be forced to take away your advantages in this fight, Oracle.”
Babs keeps going. She wants to, and the whimpers coming out of Kat’s mouth are just plain GOOD, and when she’s finished tasting every part of Kat’s hand, she puts it against her breast.
“Yes,” Katarina murmurs, squeezing. “Oh, you’re something else…”
She leans in and bites Barbara’s neck, right where the jaw hinges.
“I want to strip you naked and see what happens,” she says.
“You first,” Babs breathes, feeling sweat drip down her spine.
Katarina laughs and stands up. She slides her hands under her tank and slides it up, revealing dusty skin, a scar or two, and a soft gleam of sweat.
Also breasts. Breasts that should need a bra, because those aren’t A cups, and Babs’s eyes are possibly stuck to the curve and the thin white line that goes under one to the midpoint between those perfect breasts.
“Oh,” Babs says, swallowing.
“Want to help me, Oracle?” asks Kat, hands resting on her belt as her breasts sway in distracting ways.
“Yeah,” Barbara says, thinking this is not quite the way this should go, but Katarina still doesn’t know her name, and she’s not telling. And it’s not like they’re not both half-drunk with wanting to do this.
She puts her hands on the belt and undoes it, smoothing her hand over the opening of those combat fatigues, digging her heel in as she goes. Kat hums approval, but instead of undoing them, she slides her belt out gracefully and before Barbara can think, right around Barbara’s wrists.
“Too damn trusting,” Kat whispers into her ear.
It’s so true, but Barbara Gordon doesn’t give up easily.
“Say my name,” Barbara answers grimly. “If I’m so damn trusting, say it.”
“I could get it out of you,” Katarina says, petting Babs’s face and neck, and it’s killing Babs that she moves into the touch. “Oh?”
“Oh?” Barbara says, breath ragged.
“You’re not playing me, are you? You want me,” Katarina says, staring into Barbara’s eyes.
“Not anymore,” Babs says, and it’s a lie and Kat knows it’s a lie and Kat’s got her mouth against Barbara’s and they’re kissing again, and if Babs can’t help but want it, Kat’s no better. “You want me, too.”
Katarina doesn’t answer in words. Instead her hands move away from Barbara and to her own waist, undoing her pants, kicking them off, and kneeling next to the chair, naked to her toes.
“Me first,” Kat says. “Now it’s your turn, Oracle. I promised to strip you naked and I keep those kinds of promises.”
Barbara holds up her bound wrists and rolls her eyes. Katarina snickers, and then pulls Babs out of her chair, lowering them both to the floor slowly and carefully.
Then she pulls Babs’ wrists over her head, hovering over her with those perfect breasts practically close enough to lick.
“Does this work for you?” Katarina asks.
“I have spinal damage, not libido damage,” Barbara answers, surprised that this plays into Kat’s plans at all.
“No, really?” Katarina says dryly, free hand stroking Barbara’s side. “Let’s say that I’m interested in knowing where my efforts are the most…appreciated.”
“You’re a smart woman, Kat,” Babs says with a smirk. “Figure it out yourself.”
Kat responds by tearing Barbara’s shirt open and grinning. “Thank God for front hook bras,” she says, leaning down and undoing the clasp with her teeth.
Babs does whimper over that.
“Oracle likes that,” Katarina says, easing the cloth away from Barbara’s body and then resting her chin between Barbara’s breasts. “Let’s see what Oracle likes? She likes to watch, I know that. She likes to play rough…”
It should be harder, being at the mercy of this woman. But Babs can recognize the rules of engagement. Kat isn’t out to hurt; she’s out to show Babs how good she is, and that Babs is vulnerable.
Katarina’s teeth graze over the top of Babs’s left breast and Babs is back in her body, hating the Joker, hating how life is crazy.
“Yeah, she does,” Kat murmurs, kissing the underside of Barbara’s arms, tracing veins with fingernails. “She doesn’t like being tied up.”
“Do you blame me?” Babs asks. “It’s not like I can kick you while you’re busy ogling my body, Kat. I’m at your mercy and you’ve warned me about trusting people.”
She pulls her head up and Katarina leans down for a kiss, which gives Babs the leverage to push forward and catch her arms around Kat’s neck, dragging them both down into a flurry of kisses.
“I like watching you out of control,” Katarina whispers. “It’s where you learn the most about a rival, especially someone who loves being in control like you, Oracle. She fights it, even when…”
Kat slides from Barbara’s grip and discovers a very, VERY sensitive spot on her right breast.
Babs is starting to think Katarina has a magic talent for knowing how to turn off Babs’s brain and just make her wish Kat could screw her into oblivion, no games, no…oh, God…
“Even when,” Babs says, trying to get Katarina to talk to her.
Instead Katarina keeps teasing sensitive spots, moving up, moving down and finding places that just feel good.
Barbara can almost hear the sounds clicking on Katarina’s mental checklist, but that goes away when Kat decides to assault Babs’s sweet spot right underneath her belly button with tongue and fingers.
“I’d make you wet all over,” Kat breathes as Babs writhes. “Soak right through your nice-girl panties.”
That would be good. That would be so good, feeling Katarina’s tongue rough against places Barbara hasn’t felt in years, that sweet ache right between her legs…
“Yeah, that’s what you want, Oracle,” Katarina says like some sort of malevolent sex goddess. “You want to feel some sort of edge.”
Babs expects a bite, but gets an evil chuckle instead and the weight of another body on her as Kat slides up her again to that sensitive bit of breast and just rides it, through all the shivering-whimpering-need that’s almost-almost-almost…
God, if only Katarina could just pull her pants off and go, go, go.
“I wouldn’t stop,” Kat breathes. “I’d have my fingers so deep in you that you’d have to ride ’em, hating me for making you so hot as I just pumped them in and out and in, while you wanted me to touch you right there, fighting against the belt…you’d be helpless and you’d crave it. You want to be done, Oracle, you want to be done good and nobody knows how to give it to you…”
It’s not quite the same as the old sort of orgasm, but the image flashing through Babs brain, helpless and craving, of being fucked like that, of the humiliation of being taken down, of how good it would be to have someone who could finally match her…
She makes a choked sound, stiffens, and feels satiated. It’s not quite the spasming release of how it was, but it’s better than Barbara’s managed alone. She’s choking and panting and Katarina keeps kissing her until they’re both still and warm and mostly naked.
And Kat still doesn’t know her name.
“Well, Oracle,” Kat says. “You’re not what I expected at all.”
Barbara blinks. “Are you…leaving?” she asks.
“In a moment, yes,” Katarina says. “I already got what I needed from your computers yesterday, including your location. Honestly, stealing data on-site is so early nineties, don’t you think?”
Babs blushes, because she’s been had again, thinking that this was all about getting the data. Hell. This was about getting a bead on Oracle herself, and now Katarina Armstrong knows things about Barbara Gordon that she didn’t know about herself.
“Could you undo me, Kat?” Barbara asks, looking at her bound wrists. She could probably undo them now — they’re fairly loose — but it would take time.
Kat kneels down next to Babs and undoes the belt, gleaming and sexual. “Next time, you’re gonna do me, Oracle,” she says.
“There’s not going to be a next time, Katarina,” Babs says, trying not to look at the rise and fall of perfect breasts she could just work with for hours, and the line of muscle that leads right down to a coarse patch of blonde hair.
“I’m certain that’s not true, Oracle,” Kat says, brushing a nearly-chaste kiss against Babs’ ear. “You’re going to look good, licking me.”
Babs goes about six shades of red and tries to look stony. “Get out. You got what you wanted, so get out, Kat,” she orders.
Katarina’s thumb rubs against the spot on Babs’ hand, the extra-sensitive part between thumb and hand.
“I’m gone, sweetheart,” she says, pulling away. “How long will it take you to find me?”
And she does leave then. Just like that.
Babs is covered in sweat and when she reaches down, there’s another surprise…she would have been more than ready for those fingers Katarina promised her.
She tilts her head back. “Say my name, Katarina,” Babs says to no one. “If you know so much. Say my name.”