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S01, E01 - Riddle Me Love

A continuation of the 1960's television series Batman...

With Batman and Robin having expertly incarcerated their rogue's gallery of notorious villains within the newly established Arkham Asylum, Gotham City seems to have entered a well-deserved respite from supervillain mayhem. However, as The Riddler remains at large, a sense of lingering uncertainty pervades Gotham's citizens, suggesting that the games may not be entirely over. Speaking of games, when 'The Dating Game' arrives in Gotham City for a taping, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson face an unexpected challenge as an old adversary resurfaces, leaving them temporarily unable to don their alter egos.

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Batman ‘66: Riddle Me Love

Season 1, Episode 1

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Summary: 

With Batman and Robin having expertly incarcerated their rogue's gallery of notorious villains within the newly established Arkham Asylum, Gotham City seems to have entered a well-deserved respite from supervillain mayhem. However, as The Riddler remains at large, a sense of lingering uncertainty pervades Gotham's citizens, suggesting that the games may not be entirely over. Speaking of games, when 'The Dating Game' arrives in Gotham City for a taping, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson face an unexpected challenge as an old adversary resurfaces, leaving them temporarily unable to don their alter egos.

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Commissioner Gordon stood like a towering beacon of authority at the podium, facing the press with unwavering confidence. Flanking him on the left was the freshest face in the city’s legal circuit, none other than the new District Attorney, Harvey Dent, sporting a grin as bright as the paparazzi flashes that danced around them.

With a masterful gesture, Gordon commanded a brief pause from the eager audience, setting the stage for a pivotal moment. "Gotham City," he declared, his voice carrying the weight of the city's struggles and triumphs, "Has danced with its fair share of ferocious foes in recent years. But fear not, for today I stand before you to proudly declare that our metropolis is enjoying a well-earned respite. The likes of The Joker, The Penguin, Catwoman, and even the enigmatic Egghead, once the bane of our existence, now find themselves safely ensconced behind the forbidding walls of Arkham Asylum."

A sly twinkle appeared in Gordon's eye as he described the notorious detention center as "Our city’s latest and greatest achievement in keeping these mischievous malefactors in check, a fortress custom-crafted to contain their nefarious tendencies."

An enthusiastic wave of applause cascaded through the audience, a testament to their shared relief and satisfaction. Without skipping a beat, Gordon's resonant voice spoke once more, "And let's not forget, our triumphs owe a debt to the shadowy guardians of our city, Batman and Robin. Regrettably, their capes grace us with absence today, as they indulge in a well-earned break from their tireless crusade against crime."

A fresh surge of cheers rippled through the assembly, a testament to the dynamic duo's revered status. However, amidst the jubilation, a young, determined brunette cut through the joy, her voice sharp with inquiry, "Commissioner Gordon, if I may interject—what about the persistent rumors of The Riddler's elusive presence?"

Gordon's poise wavered ever so slightly, a fleeting moment of uncertainty crossing his features. But in the blink of an eye, Harvey Dent seized the conversational baton, his voice brimming with authoritative conviction, "Rest assured, reliable sources have it that The Riddler, in light of our city's enhanced detention prowess, has chosen the prudent path and absconded from Gotham's confines, leaving behind his puzzling enigmas for more accommodating locales."

In a persistent tone, the determined young brunette spoke once more, her words laced with skepticism, "Forgive my insistence, but how can we find solace in the notion that Arkham Asylum will indeed contain these relentless adversaries? History has shown past endeavors to restrain these troublemakers to be disappointingly fruitless."

Gordon's gaze honed in on the earnest face of the inquisitive reporter, a thoughtful furrow gracing his brow. With an air of intrigue, he spoke, his voice a blend of curiosity and recognition, "Your skepticism is duly noted. And might I inquire, my newfound interlocutor, with whom do I have the pleasure of conversing?"

A warm smile curved across the young woman's lips, her eyes harboring a twinkle of both confidence and candor, "My apologies for my persistence. The name is Lois Lane, a representative of the Daily Planet; hailing all the way from the bustling expanse of Metropolis."

Gordon's grin widened, his response carrying a blend of assurance and pride, "Ms. Lane, let me put your concerns to rest. Arkham Asylum stands as a truly unparalleled institution. We owe its transformation to the remarkable philanthropy of none other than millionaire playboy Bruce Wayne. This generosity has ushered in the brilliant expertise of Amadeus Arkham, a pioneering mind in criminal psychology, who now spearheads our efforts in the rehabilitation of these troubled souls."

Leaning forward slightly, his gaze reflecting his unwavering confidence, Gordon continued, "You see, it's not just about containment; it's about understanding. Within those walls, we've assembled an exceptional team of psychiatrists—individuals of extraordinary insight and compassion. Together, they're committed to unraveling the intricate layers of these criminal minds, to fathom the very roots of their malevolent inclinations."

Lois Lane raised her hand once again, “Well, if this experiment proves fruitful, what will become of the Dynamic Duo?” 

Pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts, he continued, "The future of our steadfast guardians, Batman and Robin, is a consideration that bears its own weight. Should this innovative approach yield positive results and lead to a meaningful transformation of those held within Arkham's walls, it stands to reason that our masked vigilantes may, in time, see their roles evolve as well."

He met Lois's gaze directly, his voice carrying a touch of respect for the duo's tireless efforts, "While crime-fighting is their creed, a city free from the shackles of its most malevolent elements might allow them to focus on broader challenges—ones that extend beyond the immediate battles in the shadows. However, rest assured, any such decision will be a collaborative one, made with the best interests of Gotham and its protectors in mind."

Vicki Vale, a dynamic photojournalist hailing from the Gotham Globe, gracefully stepped into the spotlight, her presence commanding attention. With a polite nod toward Lois, she spoke with a blend of sincerity and diplomacy, "Please accept my friend’s inquiry with the utmost respect, Commissioner. The fervor arises from a shared sentiment—Metropolis, much like our dear Gotham, has confronted its own surge in crime, fostering a sense of kinship in our struggles."

Her words carried a sense of camaraderie, underlining the unity between cities facing adversity, "As we stand together to confront these challenges, it's only natural for us, the eyes and ears of our communities, to seek insight and assurance in the steps taken to safeguard our cities' futures."

Gordon offered her a nod of acknowledgment before addressing her comment, "No need for apologies, Ms. Vale. Your concerns are valid, and I appreciate the shared sentiment across each of our respective cities and their similar challenges."

He gestured to encompass the audience, an expression of unity crossing his features, "Gotham and Metropolis are not so different in their battles against the tides of crime. We are united by a common thread of striving for safer streets and a brighter future. While the road may be arduous, the fortitude of both our cities, and the dedicated reporters who cover them, gives me unwavering confidence that progress can indeed be made."

Amidst the renewed waves of applause, Lois seizes Vicki's hand with a determined urgency, deftly navigating them away from the bustling crowd. Her voice holds a mix of conviction and concern, "Vicki, I can't help but harbor reservations about Arkham. It's a familiar echo of our own struggles in Metropolis, where Stryker's Island Penitentiary was once presented as a beacon of hope. But, as the sands of time shifted, so did the promises, and our city found itself grappling with the resurgence of our most formidable adversaries."

Her words are laced with a tinge of frustration, a testament to the weight of experience shaping her perspective, "The facade of security crumbled before our eyes, releasing a torrent of uncertainty back onto our streets. It's difficult not to view Arkham's grand aspirations through a lens of skepticism.”

Vicki's response came with a measured reflection, her voice carrying a blend of realism and a glimmer of hope, "Perhaps, in the end, our salvation rests within the intricate intellect of Amadeus Arkham. It's a precarious balance we tread. We find ourselves wishing fervently that his visionary approach bears fruit, for if it doesn't, the prospect of Batman and Robin's aspirational respite could swiftly be truncated."

Her words held a touch of wistfulness, tempered by the gravity of the situation, "Only time will reveal whether Arkham's strategies can untangle the complexities of these criminal minds, and in turn, offer our cities the reprieve they so desperately seek."

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Meanwhile, tucked away in the sprawling expanse of stately Wayne Manor's backyard, a private retreat untouched by the clamor of the world, the enigmatic millionaire Bruce Wayne and his spirited ward, Dick Grayson, found themselves immersed in the warmth of a bubbling jacuzzi. A deliberate choice, this sanctuary allowed them to sidestep the whirlwind surrounding Commissioner Jim Gordon's momentous press conference.

Dick's playful voice broke the serenity, bearing the infectious enthusiasm of youth, "Gosh, Bruce! While the whole city's probably glued to Gordon's grand spectacle, we're here, simmering away like one of Aunt Harriet's hearty lamb stews."

Bruce's smile held a touch of camaraderie as he reached out, his hand finding a comforting spot around Dick's back. His words carried a sense of shared understanding, "Dick, my boy, we've earned this respite, a brief interlude from the weighty burdens we shoulder day in and day out. Right now, within the fortress-like confines of Arkham Asylum, our most formidable foes have met their match."

There was a subtle reassurance in his tone, an affirmation that they could finally savor a moment's reprieve amidst the relentless demands of their alter egos, Batman and Robin.

"I must admit, Bruce, my concerns do linger around The Riddler," Dick confessed, his voice a mix of candidness and contemplation. "He's out there, lurking in the shadows, likely weaving a web of intricate puzzles that he hopes will tie us up in knots."

There was a note of both respect and challenge in Dick's tone, an acknowledgment of The Riddler's cunning intellect that had proven to be both their nemesis and a source of exhilarating intrigue.

"Dick, those worries will find their moment when it's due," Bruce responded, his voice a steady anchor of reason. "However, right now, I suggest we embrace the luxury of living as everyday citizens of Gotham City."

"Gee, you've got a point there," Dick responded with a wry grin. "Maybe it's high time I redirect some of that enthusiasm toward my studies at Gotham City University."

"Dick, remember this: knowledge wields a mightier force than even our crime-fighting prowess," Bruce emphasized, his voice carrying a weight of wisdom and experience. “If you want to be cool, stay in school.”

Bruce and Dick's contemplative interlude was abruptly broken as Aunt Harriet graced the scene. Adorned in a striking one-piece swimsuit, her presence radiated a spirited energy that was impossible to ignore. With a charming smile, she playfully inquired, "Well now, do you gentlemen mind if I make it a trio?"

"Why, feel free to hop right in, Aunt Harriet," Dick responded with genuine enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "It's time Bruce and I broke free from the clutches of our troubles and dedicated ourselves to sharing more of these moments with you."

A flicker of concern graced Aunt Harriet's features as she elegantly joined them in the jacuzzi. "A clutch of trouble?" she mused aloud, her voice tinged with curiosity. "I can't fathom what might be vexing you both? After all, your days seem to be filled with idyllic pursuits—fishing holes, swimming lessons, and even kayaking." 

Bruce's laughter rang out, a warm and rich sound that echoed through the air. "Ah, Aunt Harriet, you see right through us," he admitted with a grin. "Our fishing lines seem to have a talent for conspiring against us and rowing upstream often leaves our arms begging for rest and relaxation."

Aunt Harriet's smile held a mix of fondness and curiosity, "I must admit, I do find myself a tad envious that my two boys have the luxury of spending so much time together. Yet, amidst all these adventures, do you two never tire of shouldering the title of Gotham's most eligible bachelors?"

Her question was posed with a touch of light-hearted teasing, acknowledging the allure of their shared reputation while playfully prodding at their thoughts on matters of the heart.

"Well, Aunt Harriet," Dick chimed in with a rueful grin, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't harbor dreams of finding a sweet gal to share movie nights with. Yet, as Bruce and I remain steadfast in our mission to safeguard Gotham's streets from the, um, 'villainous ways' of litterbugs tarnishing our fair city, the life of a Casanova tends to take a backseat to our philanthropic endeavors."

A playful twinkle danced in Bruce's eyes as he joined the conversation, "Absolutely, Dick. You know it well: ensuring a clean and green Gotham for the generations to come stands as our paramount objective."

The exchange carried a touch of cheeky humor, showcasing the duo's ability to navigate both the weighty responsibilities of crime-fighting and the lighter nuances of their personal lives.

Aunt Harriet's smile took on a mischievous glint, her gaze dancing between Bruce and Dick. "Well now, brace yourselves, because I've taken the liberty of enrolling you two in something quite special," she announced with a hint of playful intrigue.

Bruce's smile shifted, a mix of curiosity and a touch of apprehension mingling in his gaze. "Enrolled, you say? And might we have the pleasure of knowing what this 'something quite special' entails?" he inquired, his voice carrying a blend of amusement and mild caution.

Aunt Harriet's enthusiasm practically sparkled in her eyes as she launched into her announcement, her words bubbling forth like a secret she could no longer contain. "Hold onto your hats, because here's the scoop: Jim Lange has set up camp right here in Gotham City, all geared up to host 'The Dating Game.' And guess what? Your devoted Aunt Harriet might have just floated your names in the air, securing you spots as featured bachelors on tomorrow night's show! Yes, gentlemen, you'll be competing for a date with a charming lady whose beauty is likely to be as ample as it is enchanting."

Laughter erupted from both Bruce and Dick, their chuckles acting as a veneer to mask the flutter of nervous anticipation beneath. "Aunt Harriet, your boundless generosity knows no bounds," Bruce managed to say through his amusement, "But I must humbly confess that both Dick and I are tightly tethered to prior commitments."

"Preposterous!" Aunt Harriet chimed in with a gleeful exclamation, her voice laced with playful triumph. "You both thought you could outfox your dear old aunt, but I'll have you know that I've been quite the detective lately. I did a little snooping around your study and, lo and behold, your planners spilled the beans loud and clear! And just in case my brilliant sleuthing wasn't enough, I even got Alfred's seal of approval—since he's essentially the wizard behind your curtains—and he couldn't concoct a single excuse that would keep you gentlemen off the set of 'The Dating Game.'"

A knowing smile graced Dick's lips as he glanced at Bruce, a twinkle of shared understanding in his eyes. "Seems like fate has made up its mind, Bruce," he remarked with a hint of playfulness. "You and I are officially stepping into the spotlight, competing against each other for the heart of a Gotham City sweetie.”

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Seated within the cocoon of her apartment, Barbara Gordon's eyes were fixed on the screen as her father's press conference unfolded, its echoes reaching the sanctum of her own abode. A swell of conflicting emotions stirred within her. While she grasped the significance of her father’s words, a pang of disappointment gnawed at her heart.

The reports remained conspicuously silent on the role of the Terrific Trio and the presence of her alter-ego, Batgirl, as part of the concerted effort to ferry Gotham's rogues into the clutches of the newly erected Arkham Asylum. A mixture of frustration and determination simmered beneath her exterior, a testament to the unsung heroism she knew she had contributed to the city's safety.

A surge of determination swelled within her, pushing Barbara's frustration to the forefront. "I've had my fill of playing second fiddle to the boys' club," she declared with a resolute voice, the weight of her words carrying a palpable sense of resolve. Allowing her thoughts to escape the confines of her mind, she voiced her frustrations aloud.

Her gaze remained fixed on the screen, contemplating the implications of Lois Lane's insightful queries. "Lois might have a point," she mused, her tone reflective and contemplative. "The enigma of The Riddler still casts its shadow over Gotham. Until he's securely confined alongside his diabolical counterparts, Batgirl won't rest." Her words resonated with an unyielding commitment to the city's safety and the legacy she sought to forge as its protector.

Yet, amidst her steadfast determination, Barbara found herself yearning for a way to bridge the gap between her vigilant alter-ego and the enigmatic duo of Batman and Robin. The trio had shared perilous encounters on occasion, their combined strength forging alliances in the face of danger. However, the veil of secrecy that shrouded their identities remained intact, leaving Barbara on the outskirts of who they were under their masks.

A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back, her gaze unfocused yet laden with thought. "Even if the whispers are true, and the Dynamic Duo is seeking a well-deserved break, I understand the need for them to fade into the shadows," she admitted to herself. "But still, the desire remains—a yearning to find a way to reach out, to forge a connection with these enigmatic figures whose presence has left an indelible mark on Gotham City." Her voice held a blend of determination and wistfulness, a sentiment echoing the longing of a heroine in search of a means to unite her own efforts with those of the legendary crimefighters.

Her contemplation was abruptly halted by a commercial break, a temporary interlude from her father's press conference. The television screen lit up with an advertisement for a Gotham City edition of 'The Dating Game.' The names that rolled off the narrator's tongue—Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne—roused her attention, two figures undeniably synonymous with the city's landscape.

"Wait a minute," Barbara's voice held a note of playful surprise as she digested the unexpected revelation. "The Bruce Wayne who's practically a regular at my dad's glamorous gatherings, always sauntering in fashionably late?” 

Her words carried a blend of amusement, curiosity, and perhaps a hint of reluctance to partake in the unfolding drama involving the wealthy playboy.

"Well, well, well! Talk about a twist even I didn't foresee," she taunted, a glimmer of curiosity struggling against an overwhelming sense of indifference. Yet, the prospect of watching wealthy gentlemen compete for love on the small screen hardly stirred her enthusiasm. "I suppose you can count me out of this grand spectacle!"

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The following afternoon found Bruce and Dick nestled within a dressing room at WGTM studios, the air electric with a blend of palpable anticipation and a dash of pre-performance nerves. As they shared the dressing room, a charged ambiance permeated the space, their veneer of calm revealing the telltale tremors that often accompanied moments of such significant importance.

Just as their nerves simmered, the room's threshold was crossed, ushering in a new figure. With a flourish, a seasoned television producer moved to the forefront, his voice resonating with authority as he crafted an introduction that riveted attention on the newcomer.

"May I introduce you to Jean-Paul Valley," the producer's words carried a regal cadence, infusing Jean-Paul's presence with a subtle air of reverence. "A recent luminary of Gotham City University, a rising star within the realm of Computer Science." The producer's choice of words wove a tapestry of achievement, casting the newcomer in a glow of accomplishment that was hard to ignore.

A warm, almost conspiratorial smile graced the producer's lips, as he continued, "Jean-Paul joins your ranks as our third bachelor, ready to stride onto 'The Dating Game' stage in the company of you two fine, young gentlemen." The weight of Jean-Paul’s arrival reverberated in his words, as the three disparate individuals converged, each harboring their own narratives and aspirations, all for a shot at a yet-unknown romantic connection.

"Computer Science, is it?" Bruce's response carried a hint of intrigue, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity. "Well, you're speaking my language, Mr. Valley. I have a certain penchant for envisioning and crafting gizmos and gadgets myself."

Jean-Paul extended his hand, a gesture of both respect and acknowledgment, clasping Bruce's hand in a firm handshake. "Bruce Wayne, of Wayne Industries," he remarked with a nod, his voice resonating with a measure of recognition. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. There's a wealth of shared interests I'd relish discussing, but alas, this isn't quite the fitting arena."

A knowing gleam sparkled in his eyes as Bruce continued, his tone adopting a hint of playful competition. "Instead, in the realm of this unique quest, I see you as an adversary of sorts. We're both contenders in the race to capture the heart of one fortunate lady."

Without hesitation, Dick stepped into the conversation with a genial smile, extending his hand to Jean-Paul. "And I'm Dick Grayson, Mr. Valley," he introduced himself with a warmth that mirrored his spirited demeanor. "I happen to be a student at the same esteemed institution you hailed from—Gotham City University. It appears we share a common trajectory, as I too hold aspirations of treading the path of computer science."

Jean-Paul's handshake with Dick mirrored the previous one—strong and confident—underscoring his own sense of presence. "A pleasure, Dick," he acknowledged, his voice carrying a resonance of respect.

A knowing smile curved Jean-Paul’s lips as he continued, his gaze shifting between the two. "There's an undeniable thread weaving through this room," he observed with a hint of gravitas, "a trio of visionaries in the realm of computer science and technology. The one who captures the heart of our enigmatic lady is in for quite the extraordinary experience, I'd say."

In a matter of mere moments, the dressing room's ambiance shifted as a wardrobe stylist made their entrance, accompanied by a rolling rack laden with an array of clothing options. With a practiced hand, the stylist set the wheels of transformation into motion, coaxing the trio of bachelors to peel away their outer layers, revealing the canvas upon which style would be woven.

Guided by the stylist's expertise, they stood there, stripped down to their essentials, ready to embark on this sartorial journey. Jean-Paul's frame, as it was unveiled, held an undeniable allure that captured both Bruce and Dick's attention. A quiet, shared acknowledgment passed between them as they caught sight of the sculpted form before them—an embodiment of strength and poise akin to that of a Greek statue.

Dick leaned closer to Bruce, his voice a conspiratorial whisper that carried a touch of humor, "By the great Odin's beard! It's as if he's been fashioned in the image of the god of thunder himself!"

Bruce's smile held a touch of reassurance as he replied, his words carrying a sense of seasoned wisdom, "Rest assured, my young friend. The game's rules are crafted in a way that shields us from the gaze of our potential suitor. In this arena, it's the prowess of intellect that shall shine, outshining even the allure of beauty and brawn."

Having evidently caught wind of their exchange, Jean-Paul leaned in slightly, his voice carrying a note of friendliness as he addressed both Dick and Bruce. "May the best man emerge victorious," he affirmed with a gracious nod.

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Just beyond the threshold of the WGTM studios, Vicki Vale and Lois Lane stood amidst a bustling crowd, their excitement practically tangible as they anticipated their chance to become part of the studio audience. Amidst this throng of eager individuals, Vicki's association with the Gotham Globe had granted her a treasured opportunity—to be a firsthand spectator at this much-hyped "historic occasion."

Lois and Vicki shared a history that ran deeper than mere acquaintanceship—they had been college companions, both navigating the corridors of Metropolis University during their academic years. There, a mutual passion for journalism had ignited a connection that endured beyond graduation. As life carried them forward, their paths diverged, leading each to secure positions at reputable newspapers renowned within their respective cities.

"So, Lois," Vicki's words danced with playful curiosity as she turned her attention to her friend, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'm practically teetering on the edge of my seat here. You have to spill all the juicy details about this enigmatic Superman. A man who soars through the skies, leaps skyscrapers in a single bound, and is practically invulnerable to bullets? It's like our dear Batman's antics have been reduced to child's play in comparison."

A subtle blush crept across Lois's cheeks as she responded, her voice carrying a touch of warmth, "He's truly an icon, Vicki. And, I have to admit, between his daring feats to safeguard our city from all manner of threats, we've managed to cultivate quite a close friendship."

Vicki's keen perception picked up on the underlying connection that seemed to go beyond the realms of mere friendship between Superman and Lois. Her question carried a playful yet probing note. "So, is there more to this story? Are you and Superman more than just friends?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Vicki," Lois chuckled, the tinge of her blush lingering as she spoke. "He's a guardian from another galaxy, or at least that's the tale they spin. I can't even fathom how something like that would work out."

Vicki's laughter chimed in, infused with a dose of good-natured banter. "Come on, Lois. I've seen those photographs too. He's the epitome of 'all man,' light-years away from any flying saucer visitor from Mars."

"Touché, Vicki. I'll give you that one. He certainly fills out that red and blue suit with style," Lois conceded with a chuckle, the playful exchange continuing. "But honestly, in my quest for companionship, I think I'm leaning more towards someone a bit more down-to-earth. Now, shifting gears, spill the beans on this Bruce Wayne character, won't you?"

"We've crossed paths a few times over the years, thanks to the Gotham Globe's insatiable curiosity about his affairs," Vicki began, a thoughtful tone underpinning her words. "He's got the whole package—devilishly handsome looks, brimming with wealth and charm. But here's the kicker: I'm almost certain he doesn't even know I'm on the same planet."

Lois' laughter echoed in response, carrying a frisky undertone. "Well, fingers-crossed he doesn't emerge victorious tonight, because it seems Lois Lane is officially on a mission to engineer a serendipitous encounter between you two," she quipped.

"Uh-oh," Vicki's words dripped with suspicion. "Why do I have a feeling that you're cooking up another one of your notorious schemes, Lois?"

"Prepare to be impressed, Vicki," Lois chimed in with a sly grin, her words oozing with confidence. "I've worked my magic and secured us an exclusive invite to an afterparty at his grand manor. Looks like your girl hasn't lost her touch."

Vicki's excitement bubbled over, her voice carrying a delighted tone as she exclaimed, "Oh my stars, Lois! You've completely outdone yourself. How on earth did you pull off such a magnificent feat?"

Lois's grin widened, her eyes glinting mischievously as she divulged her tactics. "Let's just say, I struck up quite the rapport with your city's esteemed police commissioner after his press conference. I managed to pick his brain about The Riddler, Amadeus Arkham, and the whole shebang. In a moment of cunning, I somehow convinced him that I'm crafting an extensive feature on his illustrious career. Now, I find myself on the hook for shadowing him for the next few days I'm in town—complete with hobnobbing with the wealthy elites at Wayne Manor."

"You sly vixen, you!"

"Absolutely! And naturally, I dropped your name in the mix, Vicki Vale," Lois continued with a grin. "Announcing you as my trusty photojournalist who'll be right there alongside me, capturing every moment of this enthralling dive into the world of Commissioner Jim Gordon."

"Let me guess, Lois," Vicki interjected, her tone a blend of amusement and inquiry. "This story you're conjuring up isn't exactly going to be hitting the pages of the Daily Planet, is it?"

Lois' smile held a touch of wry amusement. "Oh, you know the drill, Vicki. I'll pitch the idea to my editor, but I can't guarantee he'll take the bait. After all, the folks in Metropolis aren't exactly holding their breath to read about a middle-aged police commissioner from Gotham City. Especially not when we've got a mischievous imp from the Fifth Dimension—complete with a name that's a mouthful to pronounce—causing chaos right in our own backyard."

"I'm utterly scandalized, Lois," Vicki responded with a mockingly indignant tone. "But mark my words, that won't stop me from diving headfirst into this charade."

"That's precisely why you'll forever be my top-tier partner in crime, Vicki. Your knack for embracing adventure is second to none," Lois affirmed with a grin, acknowledging their shared spirit of daring and their longstanding friendship. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Relaxing on her couch, Barbara's fixation on the television screen began to wane as the live broadcast of 'The Dating Game' inched closer. Despite the program's allure, it failed to fully captivate her attention, as her thoughts veered towards more substantial concerns.

In her eyes, the towering walls of Arkham Asylum loomed large, sheltering the city's incarcerated villains. As she contemplated their collective confinement, a question gnawed at her thoughts: Could these malevolent minds unite within the asylum's confines, plotting a scheme to break free and unleash chaos anew upon her beloved city?

Breaking her thought, a peculiar announcement crackled through the television speakers, instantly snapping Barbara's attention back to the screen. The unexpected revelation seized her focus, as the voice proclaimed, "Following tonight's 'The Dating Game,' prepare for an exclusive dramatized reenactment of the pivotal night when the Dynamic Duo decisively quashed The Joker's shenanigans, once and for all."

The screen came alive with images of actors donning the iconic costumes of Batman and Robin, while vibrant "POWs" and "BAMs" illuminated the scenes, cleverly concealing the underlying violence. Barbara couldn't help but scoff at the spectacle before her. "Oh, come on," she chimed in with a note of incredulity, "This is downright absurd. And where's Batgirl in all this? It's common knowledge that it was the Terrific Trio who put an end to Joker's antics that night."

Barbara wasted no time. With a decisive flick of her wrist, she silenced the television and made her way to her bedroom. There, a seemingly unremarkable desk adorned with stereotypical "girly" trinkets awaited her—a picture of conventionality. Among the hairbrushes, perfume bottles, and a particularly striking ornate mirror, she pressed a concealed button. Like a secret ballet, the desk's façade rotated swiftly to unveil a concealed alcove. Within, the distinct purple hues of her Batgirl costume hung with a sense of purpose, accompanied by a striking red wig that practically shimmered.

"While our thriving city may have seen a lull in the antics of supervillains, the streets remain plagued by a different breed—bank robbers, muggers, and all manner of ne'er-do-wells," Barbara mused thoughtfully. "Even as Batman and Robin take their well-deserved holiday away from crime, rest assured that the city has not been left defenseless. Batgirl is here, a steadfast guardian keeping vigil over our beloved Gotham."

Retreating into her concealed sanctum, Batgirl's practiced hands deftly engage another concealed switch. A hidden mechanism hummed to life, unveiling her unique arsenal—the Batgirl Cycle. The sleek and nimble counterpart to the elusive Batmobile stood ready, a testament to her preparedness and resourcefulness in the face of Gotham's challenges.

In the blink of an eye, Batgirl had vanished into the city's intricate network of alleys and shadows. Utilizing a discreet freight elevator, she seamlessly slipped into the bustling heart of Gotham's streets. Swift and purposeful, she toggled a switch on her helmet, gaining instant access to the encrypted frequencies of the Gotham City Police radio network. With a fluid grace that echoed her namesake, she glided through the city's pathways, her vigilant gaze scanning for any sign of disturbance or wrongdoing that dared to oppose the ever-vigilant pursuit of justice.

To the world at large, Barbara Gordon was perceived as a mild-mannered research librarian—an individual of cultivated intellect and diverse experiences. Yet, what remained veiled from outsiders, hidden even from her dearest friends and kin, was the secret origin that shaped her into a formidable crimefighter. The chronicle of her transformation commenced during her adolescent years, when an ordinary evening took an extraordinary turn.

Arriving home one fateful night, Barbara stumbled upon a scene that would forever alter her destiny. In the private sanctum of her father's den, she bore witness to an intimate conversation between her father and none other than Batman himself—an encounter that would set in motion her clandestine journey into the world of vigilante justice.

She surreptitiously eavesdropped on their conversation, her curiosity piqued as she absorbed the details of a plot to counteract the menacing threat that had cast a shadow over Gotham City that week. The source of this turmoil was none other than the Mad Hatter, a criminal who wielded mind control devices confined within his giant hat, all while harboring a peculiar and unsettling fixation on the pages of "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."

Captivated by the lifestyle of a crime-fighting vigilante, Barbara passionately implored her father to enroll her in karate classes. Through her dedication, she not only honed the art of self-defense but also cultivated attributes such as discipline, mindfulness, and an enhanced mind-body connection. As she delved into her training, Barbara's perspective broadened, and her aspirations reached new heights.

From the sidelines, she observed Batman and Robin as they bravely confronted the array of malevolent forces that haunted the alleys and avenues of Gotham City. Every punch, every kick, and every strategic move resonated with her, igniting a fire within her to play her part in safeguarding her city.

Through diligence and dedication, Barbara transformed into Batgirl, a masked crusader who utilized her karate prowess alongside her intelligence to combat crime. Moreover, her transition from a curious observer to an active participant was underscored by the moral principles she absorbed from her father. These values acted as the cornerstone, enriching her physical and mental capabilities with a strong ethical compass that guided her path.

In the midst of her swift traverse through the Gotham City streets on her Batgirl Cycle, a sense of purpose coursed through her veins. This was her moment to unequivocally demonstrate to the citizens of Gotham that she was an undeniable force in the battle against criminality. With each determined swerve, she internalized the mantra: "Batman and Robin, who?" It was time for Batgirl to take center stage.

Abruptly, the scene unfolded before her—a frail, elderly woman, her purse stolen by a towering six-foot thug. A surge of determination gripped her as she guided her cycle to a halt, ready to intervene and showcase her unwavering commitment to justice.

“Batgirl, help!” the woman's cry echoed urgently. “My purse was just snatched!”

Batgirl's gaze scanned the surroundings, swiftly identifying a tall figure clad in monochrome gray retreating into an alleyway off Main Street. Gripped by instinct and determination, she cut the engine of her Batgirl Cycle and propelled herself into motion. In a seamless sequence, she soared through the air, her landing precise on the sidewalk, before breaking into a sprint after the thief who clutched a Jackie Kennedy pink purse. Every sinew of her being was dedicated to the pursuit, her resolve unwavering as she raced to apprehend the criminal.

The thug came to a sudden halt, pivoting to confront Batgirl with a sinister grin. His imposing stature loomed, casting a shadow over her, while his laughter carried a sense of malevolence. "Oh, you believe you can thwart me, Ms. Batman?" he taunted, a switchblade gleaming ominously in his hand. With a surge of aggression, he surged forward, propelled by both speed and brute strength.

Batgirl's reflexes kicked into high gear. She sidestepped his initial blade swipe with practiced ease, her agility proving her worth as a formidable opponent. Swiftly and seamlessly, she executed a precise kick, striking his hand and sending the switchblade spiraling into the air. Before he could regain his bearings, her next move came to life—a calculated punch aimed at the side of his face. The impact disoriented him, leaving him momentarily dazed and vulnerable. The fluidity and precision of her actions reflected her mastery of combat tactics and reaffirmed her position as a crimefighting force to be reckoned with.

With impeccable timing, she followed up her punch by thrusting her right shoulder into his abdomen, effectively destabilizing him and causing him to tumble to the ground. Swift as a shadow, she retrieved her signature purple-laced Batgirl Cuffs from her trusty utility belt. Wrapping them around his wrists, she efficiently secured him to a nearby steam pipe, ensuring his confinement.

Summoning her resourcefulness, she activated a small two-way radio embedded in her wrist. "Gotham City Police, this is Batgirl," her voice projected determination and authority, "Proceed to the alley behind Joe’s Diner on Main Street. A purse snatcher is in custody."

As she turned, her gaze met the grateful eyes of the elderly woman who had been the victim of the theft. Peeking around the corner of Joe's Diner, she expressed her gratitude with a heartfelt affirmation. "Oh, Batgirl, you're a true gem!" The exchange affirmed the impact she had on the citizens she protected, encapsulating the essence of her role as a guardian of Gotham.

With a graceful gesture, Batgirl reclaimed the pink purse and extended it back to the relieved woman. Her words, delivered with sincerity and a warm smile, carried an air of reassurance. "You're welcome. It was my pleasure to assist."

The elderly woman gazed at Batgirl with a sense of honor and gratitude, her expression a testament to the impact of the vigilante's actions. As Batgirl smoothly mounted her Batgirl Cycle and vanished into the night, the scene encapsulated the essence of her mission—bringing safety and justice to the streets of Gotham City.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Within the confines of WGTM studios, Bruce, Dick, and Jean-Paul stood at the side of the stage, their attention riveted as Jim Lange introduced 'The Dating Game' to Gotham City. The anticipation in the air was palpable, the prospect of the upcoming interactions making their hearts race. 

Before they knew it, they would be perched on stools, facing an array of questions from an unseen potential suitor. An undeniable mixture of excitement and nervousness danced across their faces, a shared sentiment that bound the three bachelors together. As they braced themselves for the unfolding experience, their eyes met in a moment of mutual understanding. The journey ahead was uncharted, but they were united by their role in this unorthodox quest for love.

"May the best man find true happiness," Jean-Paul's words resonated with a sense of sincerity and sportsmanship, a testament to his character.

Dick couldn't help but express his admiration for Jean-Paul's demeanor, leaning over to Bruce and whispering, "Holy hearts, Bruce, that Jean-Paul Valley is a true class act!"

Bruce nodded in agreement, his lips curving into a wry smile. "In these tumultuous times, finding a man who embodies pure elegance is indeed a rarity."

Bruce's friendly gesture continued to solidify their camaraderie as he casually draped his arm around Jean-Paul's shoulders. "My newfound friend, how about joining us at Wayne Manor this evening after all this fuss is over? A gathering of minds, you could say. I'm hosting a little shindig with some of Gotham City's finest socialites."

Jean-Paul's smile illuminated his face as he responded, "I'd be honored, Mr. Wayne. Perhaps I'll bring my new lady love along as well?"

Laughter bubbled among the three bachelors, the shared moment of mirth tightening the bond they were rapidly forming. Their joyous exchange, however, was punctuated by host Jim Lange's announcement, signaling their imminent appearance on stage.

"First up is Gotham City’s most eligible bachelor, Mr. Bruce Wayne," announced Jim Lange, his voice carrying the perfect blend of intrigue and humor. As Bruce stepped onto the stage, his confident smile and graceful wave captured the audience's attention. "His generosity to this city is immeasurable, his manners are unrivaled, and yet, this chap is still single as a rose petal in a garden of thorns!" The playful metaphor drew chuckles from the crowd, setting the lighthearted tone for the evening.

"Next up is none other than Mr. Wayne's youthful ward, the dashing Dick Grayson! A college scholar at Gotham City University and the rightful heir to Mr. Wayne's empire. Can you believe a young man as charming as this remains unattached? If you ask me, I'd wager there'd be a line stretching all the way down Main Street just for the chance to share a kiss with him!" Jim Lange's spirited introduction evoked laughter and applause from the audience, casting a spotlight on Dick's undeniable appeal.

"Last but certainly not least, let's welcome Mr. Jean-Paul Valley to the stage! A true maestro of computer science, with ambitious dreams of introducing his cutting-edge technology not only to Gotham City but to the entire world. Any fortunate lady out there would undoubtedly consider it a privilege to share a moment with this visionary gentleman of tomorrow!" Jim Lange's vibrant words resonated with the audience, underscoring Jean-Paul's forward-thinking ambitions and charisma.

The three bachelors settled onto their seats behind a vibrantly adorned partition, each anticipating the arrival of the coveted stool that would soon be occupied by a very fortunate woman. The air was charged with excitement as the stage was set for a potential romantic connection to unfold.

Jim Lange's voice resonated with enthusiasm as he turned his attention to both the bachelors and the eager audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to introduce our charming bachelorette, who will be taking her place on this fourth stool just beyond the wall, her presence hidden from the view of our three eligible bachelors." The air was charged with anticipation as the stage was set for the romantic interactions to begin.

Emerging gracefully onto the stage was a woman of striking beauty, her youthful allure unmistakable as she walked with poise. In her early 20s, she exuded confidence and charm, her flowing sparkly green dress perfectly complementing her vivid green eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets. Her shoulder-length, bright red curls framed her face like a cascade of flames, igniting the spotlight as it danced in the air. As she settled into her seat, her radiant smile and affectionate waves to the audience painted the scene with an aura of love and excitement.

“It’s a true pleasure to be here, Mr. Lange” spoke the woman, who continued to exude a confidence presence.

Jim Lange extended his hand to the woman with a warm smile, his appreciation evident in his voice. "Truly, the pleasure is all ours to be in your delightful company. Now, I assume you're well-acquainted with the rules? You'll be posing a series of inquiries to each of our bachelors, carefully gauging their responses against the checklist of your personal preferences."

"Oh, I'm not just aware; I'm armed and ready," she quipped with a mischievous grin, her words laced with a hint of flirtatiousness. "And I do hope you don't mind, I've come prepared with my own set of cue cards," she continued, the devilish curve of her smile adding a touch of playfulness to her remark.

Mr. Lange's eyebrows lifted in surprise, his gaze darting to the side of the stage where he caught the stagehand's approving thumbs-up. "Well, I suppose the producers are feeling adventurous tonight," he remarked with a chuckle, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "So, my dear bachelorette, what delightful surprises do you have in store for us this evening?"

With a coy smile, the bachelorette smoothly extracted a cue card from her cleavage, her actions laced with a playful allure. Fixing her gaze on the audience, she adopted a sultry tone that seemed to transcend the confines of the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, brace yourselves," she purred, drawing their attention into her question. "This one's for bachelor number one: What is the most romantic part of the ocean?"

Seated as the first bachelor, Bruce Wayne allowed a moment of contemplation to pass over him. Yet, an undercurrent of intrigue washed over him, as if the question's delivery held a hint of familiarity—a faint echo of a riddle perhaps. 

Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts, Jim Lange's voice interjected, bringing him back to the present. "Bachelor number one, the spotlight is on you. What answer do you have for our enchanting bachelorette?"

Bruce's mind awakens from its reverie, "Apologies, I've found myself delightfully confounded by the riddle-esque quality of this inquiry. Allow me to venture a response: Could it be when the 'buoy' rendezvouses with the 'gull'?"

The bachelorette's laughter cascades forth, "How delightful to witness a kindred spirit with an affinity for riddles, much like myself and dear old daddy."

Dick angles himself closer to Bruce, clandestinely sheltering his microphone, "You know, Bruce, this whole situation seems rather fishy, don't you think?"

Bruce retorts to Dick, his tone laced with intrigue, "Dick, my mind is an expanse of open sea, where suspicions roam free and curious currents intertwine."

In an instant, the doors at the studio's rear fling wide open, followed by the resonant bellow of a foghorn slicing through the air like a conductor's baton. The audience pivots in collective astonishment, their faces a canvas of disbelief, as a spectral parade of ivory seagulls infiltrates the studio. A haunting, unforeseen enchantment takes hold.

Amid the collective bewilderment that washes over the room, all eyes gradually gravitate towards the stage, where a colossal buoy adorned with an oversized green question mark materializes, descending gracefully on a wire. The room holds its breath as the buoy touches the stage floor. 

Suddenly, the bachelorette rises from her seat, extracting yet another cue card from an unexpected hiding spot amidst her attire. Her gaze encompasses the room, a mischievous glint in her eyes, before she unveils the enigma that hangs in the air, "Ladies and gentlemen, I pose this question to unravel a mystery as grand as it is whimsical: Why did the watermelon and the honeydew decide to embark on a grand wedding adventure?"

A burst of energy propels Dick Grayson upright from his seat, his voice resounding with an enthusiastic, "Because they cantaloupe?”

With a burst of exhilaration, the bachelorette flings her arms skyward in a crescendo of excitement. In an unexpected twist, the colossal buoy detonates in a spectacular display, sending fragments of obliterated cantaloupe cascading throughout the room, like edible confetti. The chaos of fruity debris lures opportunistic seagulls to gracefully descend, their eyes keen for a chance to partake in this impromptu feast of succulent delights.

"Good gory gulls!" exclaims Dick, his voice a mix of astonishment and humor, as he and Bruce Wayne instinctively seek refuge from the avian onslaught.

"We've unwittingly danced to someone else's tune, Dick," Bruce retorts, his tone a blend of irritation and intrigue. He squints thoughtfully at the puzzling figure on stage, a perplexing enigma herself. "Could this be a creation of The Riddler? Or have we stumbled upon an entirely new breed of bewilderment?"

Jean-Paul's desperate bid for escape transforms into a futile dance as a cadre of men garbed in nautical attire bars his path. A similar tableau unfolds at every exit, a symphony of sailor-clad figures strategically positioned like chess pieces. The room, now a theater of orchestrated chaos, brims with a formidable contingent of two dozen henchmen, each mirroring the maritime motif. A wave of horror sweeps through the studio audience, a collective gasp transforming into a frantic scramble as they dive beneath their seats, seeking refuge from the relentless assault of voracious seagulls. These avian marauders, driven to frenzy by a craving for the sugary allure of cantaloupe, descend upon the scene with relentless determination.

From the swirling chaos emerges a figure, a master of enigma who commands recognition without preamble—none other than The Riddler himself! Where once his iconic ensemble bore the verdant insignias of question marks, now resides a skintight suit, a canvas of white adorned with cunning horizontal pinstripes of green. 

His arrival electrifies the room, his sardonic smile matching the glint in his eyes as he addresses the captive audience. "Ah, the vast sea of possibilities! Plenty of fish to reel in, wouldn't you agree?" he quips, his words dripping with a charm that tugs at the edges of comprehension.

Bruce and Dick's gazes lock in a silent exchange, a tacit acknowledgment of their shared determination to navigate this sudden change in plan for a chance of freedom. Yet, every avenue of escape seems ensnared by the convoluted web woven around them. 

With a wry grin, Dick chimes in, his voice carrying a touch of irony, "Well, Bruce, it seems even the dynamic duo of Batman and Robin might find it a tad challenging to swoop in and save the day."

Bruce's smirk evolves into a slight hint of worry, his words laden with a mixture of amusement and resolve. "Seems that way, Dick. It appears we'll be tackling this conundrum in our civilian identities."

The Riddler's attention sharpens as he fixates on Gotham's trio of eligible bachelors, his tone a blend of mockery and theatrical intrigue. "Ah, the stars of Gotham's intellectual constellation have graced us with their presence! It's a pity they neglected to secure dear old daddy's blessing before embarking on a journey of affection with my esteemed… Enigma!"

With graceful determination, the bachelorette approaches The Riddler, leaving a fleeting kiss upon his cheek—a gesture laden with layers of meaning. "Indeed, beloved Gotham," she declares, her voice carrying a blend of nostalgia and defiance, "The truth rings out: Daddy's petite princess has blossomed, seeking her own stake within the intricate tapestry of our family legacy."

The Riddler's smile widens, a cunning glint illuminating his eyes. "With our associates safely ensconced within the confines of Arkham Asylum," he purrs, his words dripping with confident satisfaction, "the stage is set for Enigma and I to seize dominion over this city, forging our reign with an unyielding grip."

"Fat chance!" Dick's exclamation reverberates through the room, his voice a resolute challenge. "You've waltzed to the dance of defeat countless times before, and I've got a hunch that retirement might be calling sooner than you think!"

Enigma's smile carries a hint of condescension as she gazes at Dick. "Oh, spare me the collegiate charm, dear boy. You're far from my cup of tea. Nevertheless, dear father and I have crafted some intricate puzzles for you three hapless scions of wealth."

The Riddler's voice interjects, a flourish of theatricality infusing his words. "Ah, how could I almost overlook this splendid detail? It seems the clock still ticks in our favor, leaving us with ample room for a most intriguing endeavor: 'First Date of Death!'"

Descending from above, a giant crossword puzzle floats downward, covering the logo for ‘The Dating Game’ replacing it with ‘Riddle Me Love’. “My cherished progeny," The Riddler murmurs, his tone dripping with paternal pride, "why not elucidate the intricacies of the game to our esteemed guests of honor and the audience at home?"

Enigma's grin widens, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Ah, yes, the allure of choice and consequence," she chuckles. "Our dear bachelors shall find themselves entangled in a web of wit and dilemma. With each correct answer, they gain the power to save, but with each wrong answer, they decide who's sacrificed. Love, logic, and life hang in the balance on this perplexing stage of 'Riddle Me Love'."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

In the confines of Wayne Manor, Alfred and Aunt Harriet huddle before the television screen, a palpable dread casting its shadow over their faces as they bear witness to the unfolding live telecast.

"Oh, Alfred dear!" Aunt Harriet's voice rings out, a mixture of hope and desperation coloring her tone. "One can only pray that the dynamic duo of Batman and Robin will swoop in and rescue the day," she exclaims, her words laced with a fervent plea for salvation.

Alfred's gaze shifts towards the corridors leading to Bruce's den, a knowing glance that carries the weight of anticipation. He senses, with a heavy heart, the distinct absence of the echoing ring from the Batphone, its silent plea echoing in vain, as no one remains to heed its urgent call.

Alfred responds, his tone tinged with a mixture of concern and resignation. "Should the speculations hold any merit, my fear is that the Dynamic Duo might be indisposed, far from the city." Stricken by a sense of helplessness, Alfred pushes himself to leave the room momentarily, his departure under the facade of a bid to regain his composure in the face of this dire hour of need for his employers.

Alfred steps into Bruce's den, his eyes zeroing in on the Batphone as its crimson glow demands attention. "Commissioner," he conveys with a touch of regret, lifting the handset from its cradle. His words resonate through the line with a steadiness that conceals an undercurrent of concern. "I regret to inform you that Batman and Robin remain preoccupied. It seems we must seek an alternative strategy to confront this situation."

"Heavens," Commissioner Gordon's voice crackles through the line, a symphony of worry woven into his words. "My apprehensions realized. Given this circumstance, what alternatives do you believe we should consider?"

Alfred's thoughts dance in a momentary pause, a silent exchange between possibilities. Then, his response emerges with a measured certainty. "Batgirl," he affirms, his voice holding a glimmer of optimism within its cadence. "It seems she might be the beacon of hope we're seeking, the singular avenue that remains in this grave time of need."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Across the sprawling expanse of Gotham City, Batgirl propels herself through the streets astride her Batgirl Cycle. Encased in her helmet, the radio transceiver had long since detected the beckoning signal, the minutes preceding this very instant filled with a determined pursuit. With unwavering focus, she steers her vehicle toward the WGTM studios, her arrival imminent and her resolve unshaken.

"In the recesses of my instincts, I've always felt The Riddler's lingering presence," she murmurs to herself, a hint of contemplation weaving through her words. "And now, with Batman and Robin occupied, the stage is set for me to unveil the true might of Batgirl to Gotham City."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Amidst the studio audience, Lois tightly gripped Vicki's hands, a undercurrent of fear coursing through her veins. She had encountered danger back in Metropolis, yet the comforting presence of Superman had always been a mere leap away. But in the ominous shadows of Gotham, she found herself devoid of the safety net her personal guardian provided.

"So, just how dependable is this Batman of yours?" Lois inquired with a touch of skepticism.

Vicki's eyes glinted with determination as she responded, "I have no doubt he'll be springing into action any moment now, alongside Robin.”

Lois meticulously scanned the room, her gaze alighting on The Riddler and Enigma's henchmen stationed at every possible exit. The prospect of escape seemed futile at best. Yet, a glimmer of hope emerged as Lois discreetly peeked into her purse, her fingers finding solace around the grip of her taser.

Vicki's gaze flickered to Lois' hands as she withdrew the taser from her purse. "You reckon we can neutralize a couple of The Riddler's goons with that?" Vicki inquired, a spark of determination in her eyes.

"Definitely worth a try," Lois responded with a resolute nod. "I'm not exactly the type to sit still and wait when danger's on the line.”

Vicki's focus shifted toward a fire escape, positioned roughly 200 feet away, and currently guarded by only two henchmen. "If we're going to give it a shot, that side door and the fire escape seem like our best shot," she suggested with a determined undertone.

"What do you think about me getting their attention while you sneak up from behind and zap them into submission?" Lois proposed, her voice steady and strategic.

Vicki gave a nonchalant shrug. "Why not give it a try? We might be able to get at least a dozen of us out of here before more goons come swarming in," she reasoned, her tone pragmatic.

Lois's lips curled into a sly smirk. "Seems like we're locking in our destiny then," she quipped with a hint of determination.

Vicki began a deliberate, cautious advance toward the fire escape, with Lois trailing a few steps behind. As Vicki drew nearer to the henchmen guarding the fire escape, one of them seemed to catch wind of her intentions. Swiftly, he shifted his position to block Vicki's path, effectively cutting her off.

"Didn't you hear The Riddler? Nobody's leaving this auditorium during filming," the henchman retorted with a tone that was both firm and condescending.

"Oh, come on now. You really think I'm going to follow orders from a lackey like you? How old are you, anyway? You look like you're still in high school," Vicki shot back with a touch of audacity in her voice.

The young henchman, possessing both youth and a stocky build, started to move closer to Vicki, his arms extending outward as if he were King Kong, ready to scoop her up and ascend to the top of the Empire State Building.

In that critical instant, Lois crept up from behind, deftly placing the taser against the henchman's right side. A surge of electricity coursed through his body, sending him crashing to the ground in a convulsive display of pain.

Vicki followed up with a measured kick to his abdomen. "And learn to respect your elders, you colossal buffoon," she quipped with a mix of triumph and sass in her tone.

Lois stepped forward, heading toward the second goon, who had finally caught on to the unfolding situation. She extended the taser, poised to strike him in the chest. However, this henchman proved to be more agile and quick-witted than his counterpart. He seized her wrist with a vice-like grip, causing her to wince in pain and inadvertently release her hold on the taser, which slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor.

"Vicki!" Lois's voice rang out in a sharp cry, urgency lacing her words. "Get out of here, run!”

With Lois cornered and her options narrowing, Vicki dashed toward the exit. But as she reached the door, it swung open to reveal two additional goons, effectively sealing off her escape route.

The second goon swiftly wrapped his arms around Lois in a tight bear hug, forcefully pulling her to the side. Simultaneously, the remaining two goons similarly apprehended Vicki, drastically diminishing their chances of escaping.

"Boss!" the goon restraining Lois called out loudly, his grip unrelenting. "Seems like we've got ourselves a pair of dames attempting to make a getaway!”

The Riddler's focus pivoted toward the fire exit, an ominous grin stretching across his features. "Ah, well, well. Bring ‘em to me," he declared with a sinister satisfaction. "It seems our little show just gained an unexpected twist. Let this be a lesson to all who dare attempt an escape."

Guided by the henchmen's firm grips, Vicki and Lois were marched towards the stage. Their struggle to break free was evident, yet the sheer strength of the two men thwarted any attempt at escape.

The Riddler's gaze fell upon the two women, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and malice. "Well, well, if it isn't Vicki Vale, the shining star photojournalist from the Gotham Globe," he remarked with a twisted grin. "If memory serves me right, you weren't exactly singing my praises a few months ago. And that picture you chose to publish of me certainly didn't highlight my best side.”

Enigma joined The Riddler's side, her tone carrying a mixture of intrigue and amusement. "And as for the other lady, we've got Lois Lane from Metropolis," she stated, a faint chuckle underlying her words. "Caught her on the Commissioner's press conference just yesterday. She's got herself quite the set of brass ones, I'd say.”

The Riddler's smile widened with a touch of mockery. "Well, well, a Metropolis visitor in our midst. Pray tell, where's your Superman when you need him?" he taunted with a hint of derision.

Lois' defiance blazed as she spat in The Riddler's direction. "If he were here, he'd squash you like a bug without even breaking a sweat," she retorted with unyielding resolve.

The Riddler's laughter echoed through the room. "Ah, lucky for me, he's nowhere to be found. But let's have a little chat, shall we?" he proposed with a wicked grin. "How do you two feisty ladies feel about becoming part of our little game?”

Vicki made a desperate attempt to stomp on the henchman's foot, aiming to create an opening for escape. However, her efforts were swiftly thwarted as he forcefully pushed her to the ground, quashing her bid for freedom.

The Riddler remarked with a twisted grin, "Sometimes, silence speaks volumes.”

Enigma's focus shifted to Bruce Wayne, a calculated gleam in her eyes. "Dad, how about we let this wealthy playboy make the call? He can decide which of these women gets to walk away and which one meets her end," she suggested with a chilling edge to her voice.

The Riddler's smirk deepened, his approval evident. "I do enjoy your approach, my dear. A bit of a warm-up before the real games commence," he mused with a sinister glint in his eyes.

In that instant, a sizable spotlight honed in on Bruce Wayne, who found himself under the glaring scrutiny of the moment, striving to uphold his composure despite the intense pressure.

Just before the spotlight's full attention shifted to him, Dick leaned in closer to Bruce. "Bruce, try to buy us some time. I'll work on formulating a solid plan to spring into action," he whispered urgently.

"Marvelous strategy," Bruce responded with a wry smile. "If there's one thing I'm adept at in my civilian attire, it's the art of weaving compelling words."

Bruce advanced with a bold confidence radiating from him. "I'm not particularly inclined to obediently dance to the tune of a terrorizing dictator," he declared, his voice steady and composed. "How about we engage in a negotiation, Riddler?"

"A negotiation, eh, rich boy?" The Riddler's smirk deepened. "I'm the one pulling the strings here, money bags," he retorted with a touch of mockery.

"If it's money you're after, I have an abundance of it," Bruce retorted with a measured tone. "A single phone call to Gotham National Bank, and I can arrange for a substantial sum to be wired to any account of your preference. Why involve these two innocent women in your sinister game?" he questioned, his voice layered with a mix of assertiveness and reason.

The Riddler's gaze turned piercing as he looked at Enigma. "Quite tempting, isn't it?" he remarked with a sardonic twist. "You've always had a hankering for Daddy to buy you that hot rod," he added, a knowing glint in his eye.

Enigma responded, her voice carrying a sense of conviction. "Money isn't our goal, father. Once we've established our reign over this city with an iron grip, wealth will come easily," she asserted with a determined undertone.

The Riddler nodded in acknowledgment of Enigma's perspective. "Well said, Enigma. Now, Mr. Wayne, let's refocus on the matter at hand," he said, his tone taking a serious turn. With a theatrical flourish, he produced a green pistol from his trouser pocket, complete with an almost comically elongated barrel that measured around 7 inches.

Bruce's fingers delicately undid his collar, a subtle sign of surrender woven into his words. "Release the women, Riddler. If you wish, take me in their stead," he proposed, his voice a tranquil river flowing steadfastly. "The world has its fair share of millionaires running around. Spare these women and let them live another day," he implored with a touch of earnestness.

The Riddler seemed to mull over Bruce's plea briefly, a veil of contemplation drawn across his features. However, before a decision could be made, Enigma interjected with a mischievous grin. "Oh, come on now. A heroic sacrifice is far too predictable. Our playground is chaos, dear daddy," she purred, her words laced with a devilish charm. 

Drawing nearer to Dick, the Riddler presses his pistol against the side of his temple. "You see, Bruce, maybe if I eliminate your youthful ward, you'll start treating this little game with the gravity it deserves," he remarks, a cold edge to his voice that mirrors the steel of the gun.

Dick's brow glistens with beads of sweat, yet his rapid wit and familiarity with the Riddler's quirks guide him to respond with a well-crafted challenge. "Riddler, before you whisk me away to an enigmatic abyss, I present a puzzle that might tickle your intellect," he asserts.

The Riddler's firearm momentarily drops, replaced by a gleeful grin. "Ah, the college boy wishes to engage in a cerebral duel," he exclaims, his enthusiasm palpable. "Very well, challenge accepted!"

Dick's mind dances with possibilities as he conjures a conundrum for his intellectual nemesis. "Two keys in your grasp, distinct and unfeigned. One to rescue, one to be refrained. Yet amidst this labyrinthine expanse of thoughts, a twist of fate, a wisdom is sought. Speak words of logic, let Vicki's and Lois's destinies interlace, for in this enigmatic verse, hope's power finds its place. So ponder, oh Riddler, ponder with care, for in your mind's eye, solutions rare. Life's true answer gleams with delight, hiding within the dance of glee, just out of sight.”

Dick's ingenious riddle throws the Riddler off balance, presenting both a conventional dilemma and a daring alternative perspective where neither Lois nor Vicki need to meet a tragic fate. The Riddler finds himself entangled in a web of complexity, his mind grappling with the layers of the puzzle and the possibility of breaking free from the constraints of the conventional choices he's accustomed to.

"Ah, it seems the young scholar might have unearthed a hidden gem, Enigma," the Riddler muses with a spark of curiosity. "Now, my astute daughter, what symphony of solutions can you conjure from this intricate puzzle we find ourselves in?" His words resonate with a blend of admiration and expectation, as he turns to his daughter to weave her own threads of insight into the puzzle's fabric.

Enigma approaches Dick Grayson, her curiosity piqued by his intellectual prowess. "Could it be that we've underestimated his affinity for puzzles?" she muses aloud, a glimmer of respect gleaming in her eyes. "Let's take a moment to delve into the depths of this idea while we gracefully segue into a word from our sponsors.”

In that fleeting instant, Dick shares a sly wink with Bruce, a subtle signal that he's managed to buy them a precious moment for contemplation before plotting their next strategic move.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

The Batgirl Cycle rolled up to the gates of WGTM, the scene now dominated by a swarm of police vehicles and reporters. All eyes turned toward her as she dismounted the motorbike, taking purposeful strides toward Chief O'Hara. He stood by one of the squad cars, flanked by a group of officers.

"Batgirl!" Chief O'Hara's voice rang out, a blend of relief and urgency. "Oh, thank the stars you've arrived. The situation's taken a nosedive," he confided, his tone laden with concern and a heavy weight upon his heart.

She swiftly responded, her voice focused, "Tell me the details. How many hostages are inside? How many of The Riddler's henchmen are present?”

O'Hara provided the details, his expression serious. "Inside, we've got around a hundred attendees, along with some crew members. The studio is enveloped by henchmen, numbering over a dozen inside and around fifty in total. Storming the scene has proven problematic; we're keen to avoid escalating the situation into a bloodbath," he explained, his tone grave.

Batgirl's mind raced as she pondered her options, her thoughts focused on finding a way to infiltrate the studio unnoticed. "Do we possess any blueprints of the building? Are there any entrances that are currently unguarded?" she inquired, her tone reflective.

"Every entrance on the ground level is swarmed with guards. There might be a potential entry point on the roof, but our department lacks the necessary means to reach it. Batman and Robin usually dealt with situations like this for us," O'Hara admitted with a tinge of regret.

“Of course," Batgirl replied wryly. "Seems like us vigilantes have a knack for making life a little easier for the proper authorities," she added with a touch of humor.

Batgirl surveyed the situation, her gaze catching the traffic helicopter belonging to WGTM circling the area. "Think you could arrange for me to board that chopper?" she questioned, her mind racing with possibilities. "With a little assistance from Barney’s Eye in the Sky, I could potentially make a rooftop entrance," she suggested, her voice holding a glimmer of hope.

O'Hara swiftly relayed instructions into the radio attached to his chest. "Mitch, can you direct Barney to land in the vacant parking area behind my position? It seems Batgirl has a plan in mind," he conveyed with a sense of urgency.

Within mere moments, Barney's helicopter descended to the empty parking lot, and Batgirl wasted no time in heading toward the awaiting aircraft.

Chief O'Hara observed Batgirl's swift actions, a mixture of determination and hope gleaming in his eyes. "Let's put our trust in Batgirl and hope she's got a solid plan," he remarked with a hint of optimism.

Batgirl stepped into the chopper, a friendly smile on her face as she greeted Barney. "I must admit, I'm quite the fan," she chuckled. "And as a super fan, I'm entrusting you with a mission. Get me to that rooftop next to the studio, and from there, I'll use my grappling hook to make my way over to the filming studio without being spotted," she explained with a touch of enthusiasm.

"Absolutely, Batgirl," Barney responded with a mix of excitement and awe. "Honestly, who would've thought that my day would culminate with you here?" he added, his tone filled with a sense of wonder.

Barney's helicopter maneuvered over the rooftop of the executive's office adjacent to the studio. With a display of deft skill, Batgirl leaped from the chopper, executing a graceful descent that culminated in a smooth landing on the building's surface.

A short distance away, Batgirl's keen gaze fixed upon a stairwell situated atop the studio's roof. She conjectured that it probably led to a catwalk positioned above the filming area, typically utilized by the lighting crew. Her hope rested on the notion that this region remained relatively unguarded by The Riddler's henchmen.

"Time to take a chance," Batgirl murmured to herself as she deftly deployed a small grappling hook, sending it soaring toward the studio roof. With precision, it secured itself around a steam pipe, offering her a stable anchor point.

From their vantage point below, Chief O'Hara and his team stood in awe as they witnessed Batgirl's agile maneuver. 

"Truly remarkable," O'Hara remarked, a note of amazement in his voice. "Batgirl is quite the extraordinary individual," he added with a sense of admiration.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Inside WGTM studios, The Riddler and Enigma grappled with the complexity of Dick Grayson's thought-provoking riddle. "Do you think this might be a clever ploy, Daddy?" Enigma pondered, her skepticism coloring her thoughts, suspecting that Dick might be attempting to stall before the chaos of their twisted games truly began.

A perplexed expression settled upon The Riddler's countenance. "Indeed," he mused, "the notion has flitted through my labyrinthine mind. I've faced the cunning of Batman and Robin countless times, but to be confounded by ordinary citizens of Gotham City... that would be a new twist in this tale."

"Daddy, you mustn't underestimate Dick Grayson. He's no ordinary Gothamite; he's the heir to Bruce Wayne's fortune and wields the sharp intellect of a scholar. It's clear he's attempting to outwit us. While his riddle has a poetic charm, we must question: Does it harbor a genuine solution, or is it just another layer of his clever deception?" Enigma's words brimmed with confidence and doubt, casting a shadow of uncertainty over the enigmatic challenge presented by Dick Grayson.

The Riddler's announcement echoed through the entire studio, his voice carrying a tone of finality. "In light of these intricate mind games," he declared, "both Vicki Vale and Lois Lane shall be taken out of the equation. Consider it a penalty." With a theatrical flourish, he realigned his comically large green pistol in the direction of the two women, cementing the gravity of his decision.

The Riddler's ominous declaration hung heavily in the air. "Any additional interference with the proceedings," he warned, "shall lead to the execution of yet another member of our esteemed studio audience." His words were laced with a chilling resolve, emphasizing the dire consequences of any attempts to disrupt his twisted game.

The Riddler's green pistol steadied its aim at Lois Lane, and he taunted her, "Well, hotshot reporter, any parting words for the world?" 

Lois remained seated, her eyes tightly shut, tears streaming down her cheeks. She spoke with unwavering determination, "You may think you've got the upper hand now, Riddler, but mark my words: your reign of terror won't last. If Batman and Robin don't reach you first, rest assured, Superman will bring your game to an end." 

In the tense seconds just before The Riddler could squeeze the trigger and extinguish Lois Lane's life, a sudden metallic clang reverberated through the room. The Riddler's grip on his pistol faltered, and it slipped from his hand. His gaze darted downward to find a purple Batarang at his feet. 

A wry smile curled on his lips as he muttered, "Ah, Batman! Always the party crasher. Won't you step into the spotlight? The fun's just beginning!" 

Emerging from the concealed vantage point high above, Batgirl materialized out of the shadows, her poised figure commanding attention from every corner of the studio. She spoke with unwavering resolve, her voice echoing through the room, "No, Riddler. It is I, Batgirl. And I am here to put an end to this senseless charade." 

In that fleeting moment, Bruce and Dick exchanged a meaningful glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Their unspoken communication conveyed the belief that Batgirl's arrival had the potential to tip the scales and even the odds in their favor. 

Enigma's voice cut through the tension, a confident note accompanying her words. "Indeed," she added with a sly smile, "we thrive on challenges. But, Batgirl, you'll find yourself quite outnumbered here." 

In a dazzling display of agility and finesse, Batgirl executed a flawless acrobatic maneuver. She gracefully leaped from the catwalk above, grasping onto the rafters that suspended the spotlights, which cast their intense beams onto the stage. With remarkable prowess, she swung herself onto the curtains hanging beside the stage and descended to ground level in a controlled slide. 

Now, she stood eye-to-eye with her adversaries, a symbol of determination in the face of the Riddler's enigmatic challenges. The studio crackled with anticipation as the game entered a new phase.

Batgirl's voice rang out with authority as she demanded, "Release these innocent people, Riddler. It's time to settle this matter between us." Her words held an air of resolve, emphasizing her determination to bring an end to the dangerous game and ensure the safety of the studio audience.

Enigma's snap triggered a swift response from her henchmen, who advanced menacingly toward Batgirl, aiming to overwhelm her. However, with skillful grace, Batgirl deftly dodged every attempt by the goons to subdue her. Her evasive maneuvers left the henchmen grasping at air, their efforts thwarted for the moment as the studio became a battleground for the clash of wits and combat prowess.

In a breathtaking display of power, Batgirl systematically incapacitated a half-dozen of the goons who had underestimated her abilities. Her swift kicks, precision punches, head-butts, and precise side thrusts left each henchman defeated and incapacitated. The Riddler and Enigma, clearly having miscalculated her strength and determination, watched in astonishment as their henchmen fell one by one before Batgirl's skillful onslaught. 

Seizing the opportunity created by Batgirl's impressive display of combat, both Dick and Bruce sprang into action, coming to her aid in the midst of the escalating threat posed by the henchmen. Together, they worked seamlessly as a team to subdue the adversaries and regain control of the studio.

Simultaneously, Jean-Paul Valley joined the effort, rushing to the side of Vicki and Lois, ensuring their safety amid the chaos that had unfolded. The united front of Gotham's heroes began to turn the tide in their favor, a testament to their unwavering commitment to justice.

"Both of you, make your way into the crowd, blend in with the sea of faces," Jean-Paul calmly reassured the two female reporters. "I have complete faith that Batgirl's arrival will swiftly put an end to this theatrical charade within mere moments." 

With Vicki and Lois safely concealed among the studio audience, Jean-Paul pivoted his attention toward the stage, where the battle had left a dozen or so henchmen sprawled on the floor, appearing thoroughly defeated. His gaze then locked onto The Riddler, who wore an expression of contemplation, clearly strategizing his next move to regain the upper hand in this volatile situation. The studio had become a battleground of wits and wills, with the heroes and villains locked in a fierce standoff.

With a burst of incredible force, Jean-Paul surged toward The Riddler, slamming into him and sending both of them crashing to the ground. He wasted no time, raining down a flurry of powerful punches to the side of his face. The impact of each blow reverberated through the room, and for a moment, it seemed as though The Riddler's carefully constructed plans were unraveling before his eyes.

In the heat of the chaotic brawl, unbeknownst to Jean-Paul, Enigma had managed to retrieve the green pistol that had slipped from her father's grasp moments earlier. As Jean-Paul knelt over The Riddler's body, she aimed the weapon squarely at him and fired a single shot into his back.

The gunshot echoed through the studio, and a gasp of shock swept through the crowd as Jean-Paul's figure jerked from the impact. The situation had taken a grim and unexpected turn, and the heroes found themselves facing an even greater challenge in their bid to restore order.

Batgirl rushed towards Enigma, engaging in a fierce struggle on stage. The two women fought with relentless determination, each striving to gain the upper hand in their daring confrontation.

Meanwhile, Bruce and Dick rushed to the side of Jean-Paul and The Riddler. Bruce focused on The Riddler, keeping him under control, while Dick acted swiftly. He tore off his shirt and used it as a makeshift compress, applying firm pressure over the bullet's entry point on Jean-Paul's upper right back.

"Hang in there, Jean-Paul," Dick shouted, his voice laced with urgency. "I'll do my best to keep you from bleeding out." The situation had become a frantic race against time as they struggled to stabilize their ally and restore order in the studio.

Dick remained steadfast, applying consistent pressure on Jean-Paul's wound while surveying the room with a vigilant eye. The Riddler had been effectively neutralized thanks to Bruce's efforts, but the fierce battle between Batgirl and Enigma was spiraling into a more intense confrontation by the second.

The battle between Batgirl and Enigma raged on, with Enigma proving herself to be a formidable adversary. She landed a series of blows to Batgirl's face, and despite the valiant effort, Batgirl had yet to wrest the pistol from her grip. Dick couldn't help but notice that Batgirl's stamina was waning, evident in her weariness, while Enigma showed no signs of slowing down.

"Bruce!" Dick's voice rang out in urgency. "Use your shirt as makeshift handcuffs to tie up The Riddler. Batgirl could use a hand right now!" 

In response to Dick's urgent call, Bruce swiftly moved into action. He used his shirt as handcuffs, securing The Riddler's hands together to prevent any further interference. With The Riddler neutralized, Bruce then rushed to assist Batgirl in her intense struggle against Enigma.

"Stand back, Uncle Scrooge," Batgirl hissed at Bruce, her voice dripping with resolve. "I've got this." 

"I believe you do," Bruce replied, now standing shoulder to shoulder with Batgirl and facing Enigma head-on. His voice carried a sense of camaraderie and shared experience as he added, "But let's not forget, Batgirl, this isn't our first rodeo together." 

Batgirl didn't dwell on Bruce's reference to their past as the Terrific Trio; instead, she channeled her remaining reserves of energy and lunged at Enigma once more. With every ounce of determination, she pressed forward, determined to overcome the formidable foe before her and restore order to the studio.

Respecting Batgirl's decision to handle her own battle, Bruce held back from the immediate struggle and directed his attention toward subduing the remaining henchmen who had yet to be incapacitated.

As the number of henchmen dwindled, some even fleeing from the scene, panic began to grip the studio audience. Many members of the audience hurriedly made their exit, seeking safety outside the chaotic setting.

Within minutes, the studio was inundated with squads of police officers, who swiftly surrounded the stage, their presence serving as a reassuring sign that order was being restored. The combined efforts of the heroes and the law enforcement agencies were beginning to bring the situation under control.

The officers watched in awe as Batgirl unleashed a final decisive blow against Enigma, sending her sprawling to the ground. As Enigma seemed to relent and offer no further resistance, a group of police officers rushed onto the stage, swiftly and efficiently handcuffing her.

With The Riddler formally restrained in handcuffs, several officers carefully escorted him from the studio. They maintained a vigilant watch, ever alert for any potential tricks or surprises that the cunning criminal might attempt in his bid to escape.

Paramedics had now rushed to the scene, coming to Jean-Paul’s side, relieving Dick of his duty of keeping him alive. 

"You're in good hands, Jean-Paul," Dick reassured him, a note of genuine concern in his voice, as Jean-Paul was carefully placed on a stretcher. "We'll come visit you once you're feeling better!" he called out just before the stretcher moved out of earshot.

Dick, shirtless and drenched in blood, returned to Bruce's side. He managed a weary but genuine smile as he quipped, "I must say, I'm quite relieved that peace and order have been rightfully restored." 

"All thanks to Batgirl," Bruce proclaimed with heartfelt admiration, "who has shown, singlehandedly, that it's not just Batman and Robin who stand as this city's protectors." His words resonated with appreciation for their courageous ally, highlighting her vital role in safeguarding Gotham.

Batgirl approached Dick and Bruce with a sense of humility. "I want to apologize for my earlier harsh criticism, Bruce," she said sincerely. "But I must say, I didn't realize you were such a formidable fighter." 

"Apology accepted, Batgirl," Bruce responded graciously. "We genuinely appreciate your unwavering effort in putting an end to The Riddler and Enigma and, above all else, for keeping us all safe." 

Batgirl's expression shifted to one of concern. "What about the other bachelor?" she inquired anxiously. Her worry for the safety of the remaining contestant was palpable, as she sought reassurance that all lives involved in the ordeal had been preserved.

"I did my utmost to control the bleeding," Dick responded, his voice carrying a mixture of exhaustion and determination. "His pulse was weak and thready, but I did my best. I'm confident and hopeful that he'll pull through."

"Well," Batgirl responded with a faint smile, "apparently, I'm not the only hero in the room." 

Bruce and Dick exchanged a knowing glance with each other as Batgirl skillfully disappeared from the stage. Their silent communication conveyed a shared understanding of the responsibility that lay ahead and their continued commitment to protecting Gotham City, both as a united team and as individuals.

"Do you reckon we should clue her in, Bruce?" Dick inquired, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

"I was thinking along the same lines, Dick," Bruce replied, their shared concern for Batgirl evident in their exchange.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

The following day, Bruce and Dick, fully clad as Batman and Robin, walked into Commissioner Gordon's office, but their surprise knew no bounds when they found Batgirl already seated before the Commissioner. The unexpected sight left them momentarily stunned, their thoughts racing to comprehend the situation at hand.

"Glad to see you two are back in town. Sorry you missed all the excitement around here," Commissioner Gordon remarked, a sense of relief evident in his voice as he welcomed Batgirl and the dynamic duo. His words conveyed the trust he placed in their abilities to handle the unique challenges Gotham City often presented.

"Sorry, Commissioner! Robin and I decided to take a quick vacation for some much-needed R&R, but it turns out we owe all the credit to Batgirl for swooping in and saving the day. She's the one who finally locked up The Riddler and the newest menace, Enigma, over at Arkham Asylum," Batman quipped with a sly grin.

Batgirl beamed, basking in the accolades from Gotham's top crusader. "Well, thank you, Batman. Perhaps it's about time you acknowledge my contributions as a genuine savior of this city."

Robin playfully nudged Batman and quipped, "Hey, Batman, how about we spill the beans to Batgirl? We've been mulling over the idea of extending a formal invitation for her to join us at the Batcave."

Batman nodded solemnly. "Indeed, Batgirl," he began, his voice carrying a note of genuine regret, "It seems we've unintentionally kept you at arm's length for far too long. Robin and I have decided it's high time to officially extend an olive branch and fully welcome you into our Bat-Family."

Batgirl's cheeks turned a shade of crimson. "I'm deeply honored," she stammered, "It's high time the Terrific Trio made it official."

Commissioner Gordon couldn't contain his excitement. "This is absolutely astonishing news!" he exclaimed. "We were all on edge when The Riddler and Enigma had Gotham's most valiant residents in peril."

"Speaking of which," Batman inquired, his concern evident, "Do we have any updates on Mr. Jean-Paul Valley? It seems he endured some serious injuries at the hands of Enigma."

"Mr. Valley did undergo extensive surgery at Gotham City Hospital and was in critical condition just a day ago," Commissioner Gordon explained. "However, our latest update on his prognosis reveals that his father had him transferred to a medical facility in Switzerland. It seems there's a dedicated family physician overseeing his recovery."

"That's certainly a glimmer of hope," Batman acknowledged. "And as for Mr. Wayne and Mr. Grayson, I can assume they're doing well? They played their part in bringing The Riddler and his daughter to justice."

"Why, yes," Commissioner Gordon confirmed with a smile, "As a matter of fact, Mr. Wayne is hosting a social gathering this evening. He's extended an invitation for both of you to join the festivities at his elegant mansion on the outskirts of town."

Robin grinned and chimed in, "You know, Batman and I aren't really the social butterflies. But what about you, Batgirl? Are you planning to attend?"

Batgirl chuckled warmly, "I must confess, I share a similar sentiment with you both. Plus, Commissioner Gordon will already have his hands full escorting his lovely daughter around, I'm sure."

Gordon nodded with a smile, "Indeed, she's quite thrilled. Barbara has always had a fondness for old mansions, so this is an exciting opportunity for her to visit Wayne Manor."

"Well, Commissioner," Batman began, "I'm afraid it's time for Robin and I to hit the road. Batgirl, I assume your trusty Batgirl Cycle is parked nearby? Would you mind if we escort you back to the Batcave?"

"I'd be truly honored, Batman. You can find me parked right behind the station, tucked away in one of the alleyways."

With heartfelt farewells exchanged with Commissioner Gordon, who was gracefully appreciative that his city had returned to its usual state of law and order, Batman, Robin, and Batgirl headed out into the city's streets. The three of them embarked on the long, winding drive back to the Batcave. 

"Wow, this place is incredible," Batgirl remarked, shortly after her arrival at the Batcave, her eyes lighting up as she took in the array of advanced computers and technology it had to offer.

Batman and Robin positioned themselves in front of Batgirl, their expressions serious. "It's time for a proper introduction," Batman stated. "After the events with The Riddler this week, it's imperative for us to truly know one another."

A puzzled expression crossed Batgirl's face. "Wait, are you saying you're going to share your secret identities with me?"

"Yes, Batgirl," Batman affirmed, "Revealing our secret identities will not only strengthen our bond but also explain our absence from 'The Dating Game'."

Robin chimed in, "And just so you know, in a way, we were there in spirit, fighting alongside you—just not in the way you might expect."

Batgirl maintained her puzzled expression. "I'm not following," she admitted.

With a deliberate and graceful motion, Batman began to unveil his identity by removing his cowl. "What Robin meant to say is that we were technically there, but not as Batman and Robin," he explained.

Batgirl gasped, her eyes widening in astonishment as she uncovered the true identity of the man behind the mask. "Bruce Wayne? You've been Batman all along?"

"Guilty as charged," Batman admitted. "And as for Robin, you might know him better as my young ward, Dick Grayson."

Robin removed his black domino mask, revealing the face of Dick Grayson. "We attempted to fight alongside you as ordinary citizens, Batgirl," he explained, "but you acted honorably, trying to protect us. If only you had known our true identities, you might have understood our commitment to taking down The Riddler and Enigma."

Batgirl remained in a state of shock. "I can hardly believe it," she admitted, "but now that I think about it, everything is starting to make sense."

"Yes, Batgirl," Batman confirmed, "With Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne indisposed, and with our identities at risk of being exposed on live television, we had to strike a balance between appearing heroic and not overly so to avoid suspicion."

Batgirl grabbed both men, giving them a warm hug followed by a smile. "Well, I suppose it's time for you to learn my true identity," she said, her anticipation evident. "And I must say, just as I am in shock and awe, I suspect the two of you will be as well."

"Well," Batman responded, "the suspense has certainly been a challenge for us. We've been using the Bat-Computer to run algorithms on potential candidates for your identity. And I must admit, even the world's greatest detective couldn't crack this code."

Batgirl smiled warmly. "Before I unveil my true identity," she began, "I want you both to know that you entered my life when I was just a young girl. I spied on you with my father as the two of you attempted to devise a plan to thwart the Mad Hatter. This was years ago, of course, long before Robin came into the picture."

Batman appeared intrigued but puzzled. "The Mad Hatter, you say? Working to thwart his mind control scheme? Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

"Possibly," Batgirl replied, her voice filled with anticipation. With a swift motion, she removed her cowl and wig, revealing the face of Barbara Gordon.

"Holy revelation, Batman! It's Barbara Gordon!" exclaimed a maskless Robin in astonishment.

"Why, indeed. I share your astonishment, Robin," Batman remarked, a subtle twinkle in his eye. "Or should I say, Dick."

"It's true," Barbara Gordon confessed, her tone earnest. "I've been following your career for years. I even managed to convince my father to enroll me in martial arts classes as a teenager."

"Clever," Bruce acknowledged. "And I assume your father is unaware of your activities as a masked vigilante. I know your father, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne, and he would never approve of this."

"Yes, that's correct," Barbara admitted. "I trust you to keep this secret."

"As protectors of Gotham City, your secret is secure with us," Batman assured her. "But I must confess, now that you're a part of the Bat-Family, I'll be keeping a watchful eye on you. It's a promise I owe to your father, and to you, to ensure your safety. He would never forgive us if anything were to happen to you."

"Understandable," Barbara acknowledged. "So, now that I'm a part of the Bat-Family, what exactly does that entail?"

"Now that our secret identities are out in the open, we'll need to figure out the logistics. As far as I'm aware, you currently work as a librarian, correct?" Batman inquired.

"That's correct, Mr. Wayne," Barbara confirmed.

"To keep Barbara Gordon close and ensure our cover, it might be a good idea for Mr. Wayne to offer you employment," Batman suggested. "Perhaps it's time for Bruce Wayne to approach the Gotham City Public Library in search of a reference librarian to assist with sorting through the history of my family."

"It's a bit of a stretch," Barbara laughed, "but I'm in. Consider the job accepted."

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

Later that evening, amid Bruce Wayne's upscale social gathering, he couldn't help but notice Lois Lane and Vicki Vale slipping in, fashionably late. With a wry smile, he greeted them, "Well, if it isn't Ms. Lane and Ms. Vale. I'm delighted you could join us."

Lois smiled warmly, extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to formally meet you, Mr. Wayne. We truly appreciate what you and Mr. Grayson did for us over at WGTM the other day."

Bruce chuckled. "Indeed, there's no way The Riddler could have made me choose between two lovely ladies like you," he said, turning his attention to Vicki, who was stunning in a radiant ruby-colored evening gown. "You look absolutely ravishing this evening, Ms. Vale."

Vicki blushed and replied, "Please, you can call me Vicki."

Bruce took Vicki's hand and gave it a gentle, gallant kiss. "I most certainly will, Vicki."

Lois gave Vicki a knowing glance and a playful smile. "How about I let you two get acquainted," she suggested, "and I'll go fetch us some of those hors d'oeuvres that look rather scrumptious."

As Lois slipped away, Bruce locked eyes with Vicki and said with a grin, "Why do I have a sneaking suspicion that your friend is orchestrating some alone time for us on purpose?"

Vicki blushed even deeper, her candid admission flowing freely. "Normally, I'm quite bashful and awkward in situations like this," she confessed, "but the way you and Mr. Grayson bravely faced The Riddler, it stirred something within me. Yes, we did concoct a scheme to secure an invitation to your party. And, I must admit, your presence has truly captivated me."

Bruce smiled warmly at Vicki. "Your efforts certainly paid off," he replied. "It would be my pleasure to escort you this evening and introduce you to all my close associates."

Vicki gently took Bruce's hand, and the two of them approached a lively crowd of partygoers.

On the other side of the main hall, Lois watched with an eager smile, anticipating what was unfolding. To her surprise, Dick Grayson approached her side.

"So, Miss Lane, all the way from Metropolis. Would you care to regale me with tales of the Man of Steel?" he inquired with curiosity.

Lois grinned, matching Dick's playful tone. "Well, hello there, Dick Grayson. Is that your subtle way of hitting on me?" she quipped.

Dick blushed slightly. "I must confess, I'm quite taken with your intelligence and beauty," he admitted. "But I'm afraid you're way out of my league. However, I've been following reports about Superman closely these last few months. Is he as dashing as the stories suggest?"

Lois smiled warmly. "He's truly a marvel to behold, I'd even go so far as to call him the eighth wonder of the world. Much like your city's Batman and Robin," she remarked with admiration.

Dick nodded in agreement. "You're absolutely right," he replied. "And let's not forget Batgirl; without her, none of us might be here right now."

"That's absolutely true," Lois agreed, reaching for two champagne glasses from the mini-bar and handing one to Dick. "A toast, to Batgirl," she proposed with a smile.

"Cheers to Batgirl," Dick Grayson echoed, lightly clinking his glass with Lois', their glasses raised in a toast to the mysterious vigilante.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

- Epilogue - 

In a secluded convalescence house nestled deep within the Swiss Alps, Jean-Paul Valley lay unconscious on a makeshift hospital bed. His father, Ludovic Valley, sat vigilantly at his bedside, holding his son's hand, waiting for signs of improvement.

Beside them, a group of men cloaked in brown hooded robes stood in unwavering silence, ever watchful. Over the past several days, Ludovic had grown accustomed to their presence, though he had never learned their names. All he knew was that they played a vital role in ensuring the survival of his son.

"It has been several hours since the injection," Ludovic spoke, his voice filled with concern. "How much longer do we need to wait before we can determine if it's been effective?"

"Patience," came the reply from one of the hooded men.

Ludovic offered no response, his attention solely fixed on his son. He spoke softly, his words heavy with regret, "I'm sorry I had to bring you back into this, son. I had no other choice. If I hadn't intervened, you'd likely have been torn from this world."

Ludovic leaned down and gently kissed his son on the forehead. His voice was filled with a mixture of love and remorse as he whispered, "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

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Next Time: 

A cold front settles into Gotham City, but with the absence of Mr. Freeze, who is safely confined within the walls of Arkham Asylum. Who or what could be responsible for the icy grip tightening its hold on the city's heart?

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