Date: Sun, 8 Mar 2020 16:14:42 -0400
From: mr.evan.andrews@gmail.com
Subject: Robin Gets Cat Scratch Fever Chapter 1 (celebrity)

Robing Gets Cat Scrath Fever Chapter One
By Evan Andrews

The following story is a work of fan fiction. All characters depicted in it
belong to and are trademarked and copyrighted by DC Comics and/or its
subsidiaries. I am not related to the company and make no claim of
ownership over the characters. The story depicts males in sexual
situations, mostly with other males. If that offends you, if you are
underage, or if reading such is illegal where you are please stop reading
now. Thank you.

The story is set in the New Teen Titans era, shortly before Dick Grayson
becomes Nightwing in a continuity long since superseded.

If you enjoy this story, or even if you hate it, please help keep Nifty
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Chapter One:
Scene in a Warehouse

Robin moved through the dark of a Gotham City night like a shark, rooftop
to rooftop. Unlike a shark, though, he was hunting with a partner. Close at
hand, Batman was also converging on Catwoman's lair. There they'd corner
their prey, make short shrift of her henchmen, and haul her away to hand
over to the law. The Boy Wonder now stood on top of the warehouse he'd been
making for, and he faced a dilemma. He could come in from the top, but
something told him to leave the showy entrance to his senior partner.
Instead he dropped a bat-rope over the parapet and slid down the line to
the loading dock. Since loading dock doors were notoriously noisy, most
criminals didn't bother putting too many guards on them, but every loading
dock also had a side door. Picking the lock was the work of a moment, and
Robin found himself facing the dark interior. Facing the dark and the
single guard Catwoman had assigned. The two men closed and grappled, but
Robin had the advantage of his opponent. Blind fighting in the dark was a
skill Batman had insisted he master. A punch, a jab, a block here and
there, and finally an uppercut, and the hapless guard lay still at his
booted feet. Robin pulled out a pin-light and shined it at the man. He was
white, with nappy hair, the usual mask, and his tee-shirt let everyone know
that he was Calico. Villains all did this, labelling their henchmen, and
Robin didn't know if this was evidence of villains being just too lazy to
learn their henchmen's real names or if they were affording the people who
worked for them a certain level of dignity by giving them a special
identity. Maybe the shrinks at Arkham should ask one of them someday.

Leaving the loading dock, Robin entered the warehouse. He was wary, but
apparently not wary enough. Four hands grabbed him from behind and held him
while a fifth plowed a fist into his stomach. No matter how much training
he'd had to strengthen his abdominals, no matter that his costume was
augmented against just this attack, the fifth hand seemed to know exactly
where to hit him and how hard. Pure agony consumed him. The air flew out of
his lungs, and his muscles tried desperately to bend him in half. But the
hands held him upright, gasping and at their mercy. Suddenly the light
flashed to life, and after his eyes adjusted he found himself at the far
side of an open space from Catwoman herself. A svelte henchman (Russian
Blue was the name on his tee-shirt), stood behind her, and two more
henchmen (Siamese One and Siamese Two—yes, they were identical twins,
though not conjoined. Absently Robin wondered where villains got hold of
these themed henchmen. Was there an employment agency specializing in
henchmen?) held the middle ground. A burly black-haired man with Irish eyes
(Manx) stood on his one side and on the other a muscular bald black man
(Sphinx). This tableau was held for a requisite few moments, and then
Batman made his dramatic and well-timed entrance.

A skylight gave way, and amid the falling debris, Batman landed in the
midst of this standoff. People made jokes about "superhero landing" but
Batman was his own man. He all but floated down and landed on his own two
feet before striking his "Dark Knight" pose. The Siamese twins immediately
turned to face the new player, and, to do them credit, they did not
run. Rather, they assumed fighting stances. The minute they did that Robin
knew that Catwoman had not stinted on her henchmen for this caper. They
were a formidable bunch. Batman responded by assuming his own fighting
stance, and the three men fell into a sort of dance—a few feints and a
few testing strikes as they took each other's measure. Robin glanced over
at Catwoman who was watching this with a feline satisfaction. For most
villains, their egos would have had them taunting Batman by now, saying
something outrageous, but not her. She simply watched as the fighters
worked the floor. There had to be some reason they hadn't joined full
combat yet, and suddenly Robin saw Catwoman's plan.

"Batman!" the Boy Wonder cried, "It's a trap!" but it was too late.

Catwoman pressed the button on a remote that had suddenly appeared in her
hand. The floor fell out from underneath the Dark Knight, and he fell out
of sight.

 "There, that should keep him busy for a while. For long enough in any
case," she purred.

"What have you done to him, you fiend?!" Robin yelled at the feline
she-menace.

Catwoman strode across to Robin, a look of pure satisfaction on the
unmasked part of her face. Russian Blue kept pace a step behind her, and
the Siamese twins fell in on either side behind them.

"Chill out, Boy Wonder," she said, "I just gave my old friend something to
keep him away for a few critical minutes. Batman will be back to play with
me another day, but today my inner pussy prefers playing with a Robin."

Standing right in front of Robin now, exuding menace, the villainess
grabbed hold of the lapels of his red vest and ripped it open, exposing his
magnificent physique.

"Very pretty," she purred as she took his body in from his throat to the
waistband of his Kelly green spandex trunks. She reached out, and Robin
braced himself. He'd been in this position before. They called him the Boy
Hostage for a reason. Villains always wanted to get their hands on him to
use as bait for a trap for Batman, but before that they'd try to humiliate
him.

"Now she'll run her hands over my chest," Robin thought, "And maybe she'll
feel me up."

But he was not in the least prepared for what really happened. Catwoman
suddenly hauled back and raked the claws of her left hand across his chest,
leaving three parallel scratches across his left pectoral.

"Ow!" he cried.

The scratches stung like all get out.

"Oh be quiet," Catwoman said, "They're just scratches." Here she giggled,
"Cat scratches. They'll bleed a bit and be all better in a couple of
days. Or at least normally they would."

She snapped her fingers.

"Henches, we're done here. Bring him."

As the minions wrestled Robin across the floor, he felt something strange.
The scratches throbbed, which he expected, but his temperature also started
to rise, his vision blurred, and his coordination became impaired. He even
started to sweat. What the fuck was this? Cat scratch fever? By the time
they got the Boy Wonder to the waiting van, Manx and Sphinx, his two
minders as it were, were all but carrying the studly sidekick.

As they tossed him face down into the back of the van he thought,
"Wonderful. Boy Hostage time again."