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Batgirl Begins (dbspock/WendyTheRed)

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dbspock

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Oct 21, 2023
Gotham City.

Barbara Gordon, sixteen years old, had heard about the place, had even lived there once upon a time, but as the bus rolled past the graffiti covered sign welcoming her to the city, none of it looked familiar. Perhaps the city had changed, or perhaps she simply hadn't gotten out to this part of the town when she was five years old, the last time she'd been in the city.

The bus was only about half full...it seemed not many people wanted to go to Gotham, and the bus emptied out once it made its first stop. It emptied out even faster after it pulled to a stop at the corner of Dixon and Pine, and a trio of male teenagers, complete with mohawks and tattoos, boarded the bus. Babs didn't recognize the sleeveless jackets they wore, most likely, but it seemed the others on the bus recognized the signature of the local gang the Ghost Dragons. Enough so that the bus driver didn't object when they boarded the bus without paying the fare.

Even if Babs wanted to leave the bus, the leader clearly had other plans as he locked onto the young teen with almost laser vision. "Well hello there pretty lady." He said with a smirk as despite the abundance of empty seats he took the one right next to her, pushing her body over a bit to pin her against the wall. His eyes dropped down to her button up blouse, and Barbara could probably almost feel his eyes picturing what her body looked like under there.

The other two thugs followed the lead of the first thug and slid into the seat right behind Barbara. "You got any money in here?" One of them demanded as he reached out to grab hold of her back pack. "Got to pay the toll." He laughed as he tried to rip it off her shoulders. The third thug, not to be outdone, reached out and tried to caress Barbara's face, knocking her glasses a bit askew in the process.
 
Barbara's forehead had been leaning on the window beside her for the last several minutes as she just waited for the ride to end and brooded about what might happen when she saw her dad again. She wondered if he would take her in or if he would pack her back onto a bus and send her back to her mother. She mentally rehearsed the arguments she would make as the bus rumbled through Gotham.

When the thugs first got on board it took her a moment to truly notice them due to being lost in her own thoughts but when she did she instinctively knew she was looking at trouble. She chanted in her head pleasedontcomeoverherepleasedontcomeoverhere but it appeared that fate was not on her side as they approached and the one who seemed to be in charge greeted her in that arrogant way she found annoying. She gave him a bit of a shy smile and a mumbled "hello..." not wanting to cause a problem by being rude.

It seemed it didn't matter though as he sat next to her and she found herself pinned between him and the wall. Things quickly got worse when the other two set behind her. She leaned forward, shrugging her shoulders away from the one grasping at her backpack and shook her head as the first shiver of fear ran through her. "No, not much. I'm just trying to get to my dad's house..." She gripped the straps, hoping to prevent him from taking her pack though when the third caressed her face and knocked her glasses askew she had to divide her attention, shrinking back against the wall as much as possible and straightening her glasses as she looked at them with wide eyes. "Look, I'm meeting my dad at the next stop. Just leave me alone ok?" This was a fib of course, her dad didn't even know she was coming, a fact she now regretted.
 
If the thug noticed her weak 'hello' in response to his greeting, he gave no sign of it. In fact, he had already forgotten the greeting he had offered as he sat, such was his fascination with her shirt...and what she had on under it. Was she wearing a bra? Were her tits big enough to need a bra? It was hard to tell right now, especially as she leaned forward, and he had no intention of just wondering if she had a bra on. "Why don't you come to our place instead?" The thug sitting next to her asked, and judging by the hoots of the two boys behind her, they wholeheartedly approved of the idea.

As Barbara scrunched further against the wall, the boy sitting next to her simply shifted over as well, until his hip was pressed up firmly against hers, pinning her in place. One of the boys behind her grunted when she leaned away as he touched her ear, and he stood up, leaning over in the seat until he could grab a handful of her hair, which he would use to try and force her back into an upright position. This would give his seat mate an even better grip on her bag, and he tried once again to yank i away from her. It wasn't that he didn't believe her when she said there wasn't much money in it...he just wanted the bag because she wanted to keep it.

"Ok." The boy sitting next to her seemed to agree when she asked him to leave her alone, but his actions certainly didn't match his words as he reached for her blouse, fully intending to rip a few of the buttons off and see what she had on underneath...if anything.
 
She sighed as the ones behind her kept trying to mess with her, the one tugging on her backpack particularly bothersome. She glanced towards the driver, hoping for help but he didn't seem willing to intervene. She remembered how these guys hadn't even paid and realized that she might be in more trouble than she initially thought. She blinked at the thug suggesting she go to their place. Barbara wasn't exactly what you'd call streetwise, but she had little doubt that the invitation, if it could even be called that, would be monumentally stupid for her to accept. She shook her head and managed to get out a "no thank you..." in between squirming to try to keep her backpack away from the one behind her.

Then things took a turn for the worse, much worse. Her hair was suddenly in the grip of one of the thugs and she instantly regretted not having even considered that such a thing might happen. She reacted much as he hoped, jerking upright, spine slightly arching to take the pressure off of her hair and letting out a little yelp of surprise and pain. She barely kept her hold on her backpack as the other one yanked on it again and she realized the situation was rapidly getting out of her control.

She tried desperately to fend off the other boy when he reached for her blouse. She didn't know if he intended to cop a feel, check out her bra or maybe even rip her shirt open, at this point none of it would have surprised her. She may not have had the huge breasts some of the cheerleaders in her old school had but she had had a bit of a growth spurt and was no sitting somewhere between a larger b-cup and a smaller c-cup. Her current bra which she had bought last year was actually a bit tight because of it.
 
The driver seemed intent on watching the road, despite the fact the midafternoon traffic was not really that bad. But he wasn't the only one ignoring the teens predicament. Indeed two of the passengers seated closest to her simply got up and moved to the front of the bus.

"Well, then I guess we'll just get better acquainted here." The boy laughed at her polite refusal of his 'offer'. He wasn't the brightest, but even he knew no one in their right mind would agree to such a thing, so he didn't phrase it as a question. His eyes lit up as their target was forced to arch her back, which had the unfortunate side effect of making her chest stick out a bit. "Looks like we got a B-cup here, boys." The boy guessed her bust size even as he reached out and managed to undo a button on her shirt before she pulled his hand away...but not quickly enough to prevent him from confirming that she did have a bra on, his fingers feeling its presence under her shirt. With one hand he kept trying to touch her chest again, but with the expertise of someone who has done this before, he moved in with his left hand down by her waist and tried to pull her shirt out of the waistband of her skirt so he could get under it.

That, of course, was just one of Bab's problems. The other boy did not let up on his grip on her hair, but kept pulling it back until she was forced to bend her head backwards a bit to releive the strain, until she was looking the boy in the eye even as he also reached out with his free hand towards her chest.

The only boy who was not trying to cop a feel was the one trying to take her backpack. He was so intent on his prize that he didn't even notice how her chest was sticking out. He tried to yank the bag off of her shoulder and down her arm, not realizing as he did that that she would lose the ability of her left hand to fend off the pending attacks on her chest.
 
She sighed as the boy next to her talked about "being better acquainted" and watched in disbelief as the only nearby passengers moved away, clearly not intending to get involved. Even in the midst of her struggles, she tried to find some way to identify what made these three so dangerous or feared, looking for something like a tattoo or a patch on their clothes or something.

His next words caused her cheeks to go deep crimson, almost as deep as her hair but his words paled next to when he unbuttoned her shirt, exposing a bit of her lacey bra. She managed to fend him off, briefly but then things went from bad to worse. Much, much worse. Her left arm was tangled as the boy behind her tugged once more at her backpack, the boy beside her began tugging at her shirt to pull it loose from her skirt and the boy above her reached towards her chest with his free hand. Down to only one hand she had to make a snap decision. She twisted slightly, hoping to use her left shoulder to offset the tug on her backpack, working at the same time to untangle that arm. As she did she reached up and grabbed the wrist of the guy reaching for her breasts. Sadly, this meant she had to give up on stopping the tug on her shirt but it was the best she could do under the circumstances. "Stop damn it!"
 
There were tattoos on the boys bare arms, but they were all different designs so unlikely to be a gang symbol. There were no patches on their jackets either, but the jackets were all of the same design and color, a pattern others on the bus seemed to recognize and want to avoid.

Her face was not what any of the boys were paying attention to, so her red face went unnoticed. The boy grabbing for her pack gave a small cry of victory as he got it off her shoulder and a bit down her arm, unintentionally making it even easier for her to lose her shirt, especially as some of her shirt also made the journey down her arm, baring her shoulder a bit.

"Hey!" The boy yanking on her hair and reaching for her tits objected as she grabbed hold of his wrist, stopping his progress. He looked down at her with annoyance, like she was breaking the rules of their little game. He did let go of her hair, finally, so he cold bring his other hand to bear. He closed it on hers and tried to pry her fingers off his wrist.

Her words had no affect on her attackers, naturally, and the boy next to her didn't even notice when his two buddies took her hands out of the equation. All he knew was that nothing prevented him from untucking her shirt, and he took it a step farther when he yanked on both sides of her blouse, an action the buttons holding it together had never been designed to prevent.
 
That yank on the pack only further made the situation with her left arm worse and she grunted, deciding it may by time to give up that fight. She changed tactics, focusing fully on getting her arm loose from the strap of her backpack. Still, she couldn't really concentrate on it, not with what the other boys were doing. At best, she sort of wiggled her left arm, trying to jerk it loose but even that was nearly forgotten as two other actions happened at the same time.

First, the boy above her pried her fingers loose from his wrist. She tried to hold on but he was simply stronger than her and she couldn't hold tightly enough. Worse was when the other gave up on all subtlety and yanked her shirt open. She heard the tinkling sound of a few of the buttons hitting the floor and felt the cool air of the buses AC on her now mostly bare torso. To her horror the sudden temperature change caused her nipples to pebble in her bra. Her eyes widened and she quickly lost all interest in everything else, trying to pull her right hand free from the boy who had just pried it off of his wrist, fully intending to tug her shirt closed if she got it free. "Stop! Right now! I'll scream!" It occurred to her she should have done that already...
 
Barbara's change in tactics came a little too late. With her shirt no longer closed at the front, there was nothing preventing it from sliding down her arm, and the boy trying to remove her backpack figured that out. He pulled her backpack loose...finally...but dropped it to the seat unopened at the moment as he grabbed for her left sleeve and tried to pull it off her as well. This had the side effect of taking her left arm out of the fight for her modesty.

The boy holding her right arm either figured it out on his own, or took the cue from his partner. But as soon as her shirt was torn open, he no longer tried to free his hand from her grip, but instead kept his grip on her hand with both of his, making it difficult, if not impossible, for her to pull free.

This left her seat mate with free access to her mostly bare chest. He didn't notice her nipples harden under the bus's AC...not yet, at least...he was just trying to take in the full picture of her bra. "Not bad. B-cup." He said approvingly, then frowned when she said she was going to scream. Not that he thought it would get her help...he just didn't want her yelling in his ear. He didn't have much of an angle, but he still drew back his fist and did his best to punch her in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of her if all went according to plan. Then he would see if he could get his hands on those little funbags of hers.
 
For a moment she had a bit of hope she'd at least get her right hand involved in defending herself from her seatmate but that was soon dashed as the one behind her grabbed it, clearly no longer interested in freeing himself and much more interested in making her more helpless. Her entire left side was also now almost bare with the tugging on her shirt pulling that sleeve and shoulder almost all the way down to her elbow, further entangling her. She felt a mix of emotions at the thug's comments about her breasts. Ironically, some of her was slightly offended. She was proud of their growth and wasn't sure they were even still a b-cup.

Not that it mattered, she saw his fist form and she jerked her face to the side, tensing, fearing he was going to punch her in the mouth to quiet her. Thankfully, she misjudged his attentions and her tensing meant the punch to her belly didn't hurt as badly as it could have. But it still knocked the wind out of her and she wheezed for breath, her eyes widening, some of the fight temporarily going out of her.
 
Her seatmate felt his fist not make the penetration he'd hoped for, but he wrote it off to the awkward angle he was dealing with and not her tensing up in anticipation of his strike. Not that he put a lot of thought into it as the punch had its intended affect. He heard her gasp for breathe, which meant she wasn't going to scream in his ear. He also saw that both her arms had been pulled almost strait back over the seat, and that her shirt was rapidly vanishing over her arms. In a moment, her arms would be free again, but only if she gave up the fight for her shirt. If she tried to keep the clothing, her arms would remain tied up.

The boy didn't wait to see which fate she chose. He didn't even look at her chest long enough to determine if he'd misjudged her breast size. Instead, her bra was almost like a magnet to his hand and he reached out with one hand and grabbed hold of one of the cups. He wasn't sure how sturdy it was, and if the strap could hold up to the pressure he was putting on it, but he didn't wait for that either as he brought his right hand in and shoved it under her bra, right in the cleavage between her tits, and he smiled broadly as he made contact with the bare flesh of her breast.
 
Barbara was herself caught in trying to decide what to do, struggle to keep her shirt or try to free her arms. She realized quickly that having her arms free was far more important if she wanted to defend herself at all and so she gave up the fight for her shirt, working to pull her arms loose from the sleeves as quickly as she could. She gasped when the other thug's hand slid under her bra, making contact with the soft, silken skin of her breasts.

She heard a pop and felt the tightness of her bra ease as his actions on her too tight bra caused the hooks to pop free. She wriggled more frantically to get her hands free now, knowing she had only moments to do something before her bra might fall away and bare her breasts to their gaze.
 
The boy on her left arm gave a small cry of victory as he fell back into his seat, with not only her backpack, but her shirt now free of her arm. He was focused enough on his prize that he didn't think about the fact he might be able to see her tits now, and Babs would hear the zippers on her backpack begin to open as he began to search her bag for anything valuable or interesting.

The boy on her right arm likewise fell back a bit as he freed her shirt, but he quickly tossed the article of clothing aside as he turned his attention to the now shirtless target. Her hair was still waving a bit from her struggles, and he couldn't resist wrapping his fingers up in her red locks and tugging on her hair again with one hand. His other saw her bra pop loose, and that drew the attention of his right hand as he tried to reach in front of her and cop a feel.

The boy sitting next to her didn't comprehend why her bra was suddenly so loose. All he knew was that he suddenly had room to easily access her tits. He squeezed her right breast hard with the hand that was already there, even while he tried to bring his other hand into play and remove her bra entirely.

It wasn't a well coordinated attack by any means, as none of the boys thought to try and restrain her hands again.
 
The boy who opened her backpack might be disappointed. Her cellphone and wallet were in there though the wallet only had a few dollars in. A small plastic container had her toiletries and makeup. She had a few changes of underwear and socks. And that was about it. Barbara had been in such a hurry to leave she hadn't even thought to grab extra clothes. In the back of her mind she figured she'd talk her dad into buying new ones or have him contact her mother to have her clothes sent here. If all went to plan of course.

She winced as her hair was grabbed all over again and a hands from two sets of boys began to grope her breasts. Her bra was rapidly coming loose, especially when her seatmate grabbed it and tugged and her breasts were now fully uncovered, her bra hanging down, only the straps that had slipped over her biceps holding it up at all now. Still, her hands were free and she had a chance, however small. She decided the one in front of her was the biggest threat and hoping to catch him by surprise she attempted to shove him away from her as hard as she could, hoping she'd get lucky and he'd fall over or something.
 
In point of fact, the boy who opened her backpack was not disappointed. He didn't even open up her wallet before it and her cell phone would up in the pocket of his jacket. Her underwear drew the most interest, though, as he pulled out one of her bras, drew back the elastic, and shot it across the bus. He pulled out a pair of Babs panties and tried the same trick, though he didn't get nearly the range, so he turned his attention to her makeup case instead.

Barbara did indeed get lucky, or as lucky as she had been since the gang had chosen her for a target at least. The boy did indeed fall back a bit in his seat, and his hand fell away from her breast, but he didn't relinquish his grip on her bra, and once again she had an article of her clothing beginning to slip down her arms, preventing her from putting up a proper fight.

The third boy didn't notice her flying bra, or her assault on the leader. Not when he had a bare breast to feel. He kept his hand in her hair...it seemed to work well to keep her under control...while he reached past her shoulder with his free hand, once again locking on her right breast, the same as the leader had, except this time his hand was more on the top than the side of it.
 
Barbara saw one of her bras go flying out of the corner of her eyes and felt a surge of anger mixed in with all of the fear she had been feeling. Clearly her backpack was being rummaged through and what little she had was being discarded. Still, she saw with some satisfaction that she had gotten a small victory as the one boy fell back from her shove. Unfortunately, he kept hold of her bra and it was now tangling with her arms, once again preventing her from fighting as well as she hoped to. She winced as the boy behind her continued to tug on her hair and grope one of her breasts. Sadly, it had been happening long enough she was almost used to it at this point and so she fought simply to get her arms free of her bra, figuring if she could do that, little would prevent her from using her arms to defend herself.

"Damn you! I didn't even do anything to you! And damn all the cowards on this bus!" She suddenly hissed out in frustration.
 
The only effect her words had were to cause a man a few rows back to raise his paper even higher in front of his face, giving him an even bigger excuse to ignore what was happening a few feet away.

The boy rummaging through her backpack soon emerged with a tube of her toothpaste, and as he saw her mane of red hair, he couldn't resist the urge to squeeze some of said toothpaste into her hair, and he laughed as he began to run it down her face, even dripping a bit onto her boobs.

On the bright side, both her and her seat mate wanted to get rid of the bra. so they actually worked together to free her arms. He stuck her bra in his pocket when he was done, clearly more concerned about getting a trophy than whatever she might do now that her arms were free.

The third bay yanked back on her hair even harder, trying to get her to arch her back again so her tits would stick out. He also hoped she would bare her neck so he could start nuzzling her there. His other hand kept working at her breast, squeezing and twisting it, until he shifted his grip so he could touch her left boob as well.
 
She heard the rustling of the paper but was not in any position to see who was doing it or why. She guessed, correctly, that one of the cowards on the bus was hiding behind his paper. She blinked as she felt something dripping into her hair and down onto her boobs. At first, she thought one of them had jerked off and cum on her but the minty smell soon revealed what it really was and all she could think to do was blurt out. "Really? Are you a child?"

Two things happened simultaneously then. Her bra fell away, freeing both of her arms and the boy behind her tugged even harder on her hair, causing her spine to arch and her neck to be bared to his attentions. She whimpered in pain, barely even paying attention as he continued to grope her breasts and reached up with her suddenly free hands, trying to get his hand out of her hair. If she could only do that, maybe she could scramble away from them and finally be in a position to defend herself before things got even worse. For the moment, she ignored the one on her seat and thus didn't even see him pocket her bra.
 
The boy frowned as he dropped the now half used tube of toothpaste into her lap. He didn't like being called names, and he made a fist and brought it down on her right breast, the one that wasn't being groped by his friend. He then reached into her makeup kit and got out her favorite lipstick, and proving that he was indeed the least mature of her assailants, began to draw on her bare torso.

The second boy grinned as she arched her back and drove her breast into his hand. He saw her bare neck and bit down on it, not noticing her reach for his other hand until it was too late. He jerked back for a moment as she twisted his wrist, and he fell away from her for a moment, releasing both her breast and her hair.

Her seatmate didn't notice how close she was to being free. After getting his trophy, his eyes locked onto her skirt, and he reached out and grabbed hold of that article of clothing. "Are you a true red head?" He demanded as he started to pull on her skirt, as well as her underwear if he could find it.

So Bab's plan did pay off. The bus had even pulled up to a stop and opened the doors. Babs had a very narrow window of escape...if she was willing to leave her clothes behind.
 
For some reason the boy with the toothpaste and now her lipstick was the one who had angered her most of all. She didn't know why, perhaps because his theft of her backpack would have the worst repercussions or simply, his immaturity was too much for her. The boy pulling on her skirt and almost getting to her panties was an issue, since he blocked her path of escape but thinking quick she pulled her legs back. Hopefully he'd be so distracted by the view of her thighs he wouldn't react in time when she lashed out, trying to plant her feet into his chest and propel him into the aisle and away from her.

Regardless of the success of her attack, she leapt to her feet and spun, cocking an arm back she remembered her classes at the Y and lashed out at the one who had stolen her backpack, painted on her with her own lipstick and put toothpaste in her hair. She threw a straight punch, aiming for his nose, remembering the lessons she had been taught. Don't try to punch the surface of your target. Punch through it. If you're punching someone's nose. Don't try to connect your fist with their nose. Try to aim for the back of the head and push your fist through it.

She did just that, twisting her torso into a punch at his nose. Once more, regardless of her success, she moved on. If she had a chance she'd snag her backpack on her way, but she wouldn't linger for it, escape was far more important. She'd run as fast as she could to the exit stairs and flee down them, leaping onto the curb, hopefully timing it for when the bus doors fled. She wouldn't stop there though, she'd cup her own breasts to cover them as best she could and flee down the street in the other direction from the bus, her eyes scanning for a GCPD uniform.
 
The boys eyes widened when Babs lifted her legs, giving him a good view of her panties. It was more than enough of a distraction that he didn't think it might be the prelude to an attack. Her feet, still in her running shoes, missed her intended target of his chest as they impacted him on the chin instead, once again knocking him out into the aisle...this time with her skirt in his hands.

"HEY!" the boy protested as the girl inconsiderately pulled away from him before he could finish writing 'slut' on her stomach. Like the leader, he never saw her attack coming and her punch landed dead center of his face, his nose giving an audible 'CRACK' as he howled in pain and tried to stop the flow of blood from his now broken nose.

Her backpack was almost empty after the boy had rummaged through it, but no one stopped her from grabbing it. The only one in a position to do anything was the boy who had repeatedly grabbed her hair, and he was more intent on stopping her. He reached out as she ran past, but all he got was a grip on her panties which fell down her legs as she fled the bus, now dressed only in her shoes and socks, as well as the backpack.

Even for Gotham, a nearly naked girl running down the street was bound to attract attention, and there were many stares, and even a few cat calls, directed at her. But also typical for Gotham, there were no police uniforms to be seen, and no one seemed to want to get involved. Until she rounded a corner and almost ran over a heavyset middle aged man.

"Why don't you watch where your..." The man began, then trailed off and his eyes widened as he saw her state of undress. "You all right, girl? Someone chasing you?" He demanded as he pulled his stained trench coat to the side so he could reach the handle of the pistol he carried there.
 
Talk about a mixed blessing. Her attacks had actually landed and some part of her took satisfaction in knowing she had hurt one of them. She wasn't a mean girl but those boys had assaulted her and deserved what she had done. She clutched her backpack to her torso, trying to cover as much of herself as she could, aware that it still left plenty of sideboob, cleavage and her ass on display as she ran but it was the best she could do.

She stared at the man she had run into and damn near fell over her own feet backing up, her eyes wide. She looked at the pistol in his coat and paled but something in his questions made her think that perhaps she had had a slim break here. She took a moment to gather her wits, breathing deeply as she tried to calm herself before she spoke. "Please tell me you're a cop or can get me in touch with them! These boys on the bus assaulted me and no one did anything! I think they were in a gang, they all wore the same sleeveless coat in the same color." She paused, realizing she was practically babbling and forced herself to slow down. "Look, my dad works for the GCPD, his name is Jim Gordon, please call him...."
 
Harvey's eyes were wide as well. From his angle, Bab's backpack covered up most of her boobs, but there was nothing hiding her crotch from view, and it was clear she was a natural red head. His eyes narrowed a bit at her story, and he tore his gaze from her crotch to look her in the eye. He saw the toothpaste there, and mistook the white substance for cum, which convinced him her story was true. At least the part about her being assaulted. "What are you looking at!" He barked as he noticed a couple of people staring at Babs ass. "Yeah, I'm a cop!" He declared loudly, and that at least got the small crowd that had been gathering to break up.

Harve just grunted when she said no one had done anything when she was attacked. "Yeah...welcome to Gotham." He muttered, clearly not surprised. He nodded at her description. "Ghost Dragons." He said, the description and proximity to their turf a dead giveaway. Not that it mattered much, as they were nowhere in sight now.

His eyes narrowed even more when she claimed to be the daughter of Jim Gordon. "Cap ain't got no kids." Harvel declared with certainty. It wasn't like he was best friends with the man, but he certainly knew the newly promoted captain well enough to know he lived alone.
 
She noticed how he was looking her over and was pretty sure he had just seen far more than she intended. She sort of juggled the backpack on her torso in an attempt to somehow cover both her breasts and crotch, finally deciding that if she had to choose, her crotch took precedence. She lowered the backpack and covered her breasts as well as she could with her forearm as she looked at the man. She nodded when he said the name of the gang, wiping the toothpaste from her cleavage as she memorized their name. Then she blinked at what he said and bit her lip, finding his words hurt more than she would have expected. Z

She spoke quietly in reply to him. "My mother took me from Gotham when I was five. I haven't been back since. But I'm his daughter, Barbara, call him if you don't believe me. And you know..he'd probably appreciate it if you gave me your trench coat to wear, regardless..."
 
Harvey didn't really intend to keep ogling the teen, but as she dropped her backpack and revealed a bit of her breasts to him (a nice pair of breasts too,,,and was that lipstick on them? What the hell had she been into?) that made it a bit difficult. Her attempts to cover it up with her forearm helped a little, but Bullock was willing to bet the girl was a C-cup, and her tits were just too large to be covered easily.

But her words drew his attention away from her body for a bit. Bullock had been a cop long enough to know when someone was outright bullshitting him, and he wasn't getting that vibe from Barbara. "How old are you now?" Harvey demanded, trying to get the timeline strait in his head. She certainly looked a lot older than twelve, which put the events she was referring to more than seven years in the past, before he had arrived in Gotham, which made her story at least feasible.

"Fine...I'll call him." Harvey finally declared. "And I got a blanket in the car...I think." He gestured over her shoulder at an old beat up vehicle parked next to a fire hydrant. For some reason he didn't want to address too deeply, he was reluctant to give his new acquaintance his jacket to wear.
 
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