The Adventures of Batgirl and Supergirl: “Girls Night Out”

By Nomdreserv and Dark Oni.

A stealthy figure moved almost imperceptibly in the dark, her outfit a match for the protective night. She reached a barred window - a hiss of acid, and the metal screen protecting it came free. A slight, high-pitched scrape, and a neatly cut pane of glass fell noiselessly into a waiting gloved hand.

The window opened silently, and the figure peered inside. The jewelry store was dimly lit even at night, so the motion detectors and security cameras could work. A puff of mist showed several crisscrossing infrared beams, even at this second story window level. The space between the beams was far too small for any thief to squeeze between, but that didn’t trouble the intruder.

“Your turn, Isis.” a sultry voice purred.

A smaller, black shape detached itself from the gloom. As it stepped into the room, there was enough light to reveal it as a sleek, black cat. It moved without hesitation along the ledge, too small to trip the motion alarms, then jumped onto the case near the door.

“Perrrfect, Isis,” the still shaded human figure called softly. “I’m getting a signal.”

An electronic box showed a rapidly changing display of numbers, transmitted from the special receiver in Isis’ collar. The nice thing about these new, remotely-activated and controlled alarms was their susceptibility to computer sabotage. Their built-in subroutines included the very codes needed to switch them off.

And in another few seconds, that’s just what this security system did.

Soft laughter, and the figure followed the cat into the room. The low light showed an athletic yet full-figured woman dressed in a purple, skin-tight catsuit, matching hood, and black boots. The heeled boots were an affectation, and might have hampered most wearers, yet she seemed to move as swiftly and silently in them as her feline accomplice.

She dropped to the floor, moving immediately to the special case that had drawn her.

“The Tigress’ Eye,” she informed Isis, who came to purr contentedly around her ankles. “Only recently returned to the public forum. It’s been stolen 12 times in its recorded history, but never, I dare say, so easily and by such an appropriate thief.”

A minute’s manipulation, and the “impregnable” locks closing the case clicked obligingly. A second later, the large, flawless emerald, sparkling even in this dim light, was held aloft in appreciation. It was this admiration that made her miss Isis’ tensing.

“Are you Catwoman?”

The voice was loud and imperious behind her, shattering in the quiet room. Catwoman jumped at the sound, amazed that anyone could sneak up on her. She disguised her surprise well, deftly pocketing the gem while simultaneously freeing her whip. She turned and crouched, attack ready, to find a young Asian woman, scantily if exotically clad in a metallic bikini and cape, confronting her. Before she could say anything, the woman continued.

“I mean, you’ve got the cat and everything, but that other girl in the purple spandex got real upset when I called her ‘Catwoman.’ I like your outfit better anyway - those yellow boots she wore were sort of garish. Speaking of which, do all the women here wear leotards and boots?” (Author’s note: We wish.)

Catwoman saw no immediate threat from the woman’s demeanor, and quickly scanned the room, wondering how she had managed to surprise her like that. The door was still secure, and she was sure she would have noticed another entry through the window. The woman seemed to guess her intent.

“Oh, I teleported here. You know, magic. Harley said this would be a good place to try. She must have guessed you would be here. So, are you Catwoman or what?”

Selina Kyle, who was indeed Catwoman, considered her options. Her first inclination was to simply leave, dealing with the newcomer only if forced, but she hesitated. The woman’s childlike openness marked her as a neophyte (either as a villainess or superheroine), but anyone capable of taking her by such surprise might bear further investigation. She bowed in acknowledgment of the question, never taking her eyes off her potential opponent.

“And you are?”

The woman seemed to relax.

“I’m Lilandra. I’m a powerful sorceress.”

Catwoman raised an eyebrow.

“It’s true!” Lilandra insisted. “I beat Batgirl and Supergirl all by myself, and now I’m forming a gang.”

Catwoman cleared her throat discreetly, her doubt manifest. She didn’t know quite what to make of Lilandra’s ravings.

“I did!” Lilandra stamped her foot. “And it’s going to be the greatest girls’ gang ever. I’ve already got Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and Tingles… I mean, Live Wire in it. We’re gonna get revenge on Batgirl and Supergirl.”

Selina’s other eyebrow went up. “Revenge? I thought you said you beat them already by yourself?”

Lilandra flushed. “I did. Sort of. I, um, had to leave before I could finish them. Besides, Harley thinks it will be more fun to do it together. Will you join us?”

Catwoman smiled indulgently.

“It all sounds very nice, I’m sure, but I’ve always been a solo act. Can’t really say I want to go out of my way to hurt those two anyway - live and let die.” The smile faded. “The fact that you’re obviously nuts doesn’t help either.”

Lilandra’s cheeks reddened further.

“How dare you?” she fumed. “I’m tired of everybody treating me like a k … nobody.” She reached her hand out purposefully.

She never finished the movement. A crack in the air and a split second’s time found her legs bound by the whip, and she was unceremoniously upended onto the floor. Catwoman leapt upon her and pinioned her arms.

“Hey, let go!” Lilandra demanded.

“Not yet, sweetie,” Catwoman purred, carefully checking Lilandra for weapons. To her surprise, she found none, and she released her indignant captive.

“Not too well armed - for a powerful, dangerous gang leader,” she said dryly. She noticed Lilandra reach for her ring as though to make sure it was still there. “Don’t worry. I didn’t touch your costume jewelry there. I wouldn’t bother … HEY!”

A flash of light erupted from the ring. Catwoman jumped back instinctively, but couldn’t avoid being hit. She flinched, expecting a taser-style shock or kick, but instead felt only a mild tingle. She grabbed Lilandra’s ring hand, immobilizing it.

“And just what was that supposed to do?” she asked quietly but insistently. Her acute body sense registered a mild disequilibrium, but she could compensate easily enough for the moment. Some kind of drug? The feeling grew, and she found she needed to concentrate a bit to keep steady in her boots, like her balance had shifted. She heard Isis mew questioningly behind her but ignored it.

“Look for yourself,” Lilandra said, smugly, watching her closely.

Catwoman’s eyes flickered down to follow Lilandra’s gaze, but her sixth sense warned her, and she looked back just in time to see another ball of sliver light form around Lilandra’s hand. This time she dove away cleanly, then started to cartwheel around to Lilandra’s back. Unfortunately, her body sense was increasingly off, and she misjudged the move - or her strength - and crashed into a counter instead. She stood up slowly, her feet unaccountably wobbly in her high-heeled boots. Her body felt light but weak.

“Had enough, Cat-GIRL?” Lilandra asked, climbing back to her own feet.

Catwoman’s eyes narrowed. Was Lilandra trying to provoke her? And did she look … bigger? Isis scratched plaintively at her legs, and she glanced down to shush her.

The image took half a second to develop in her subconscious. She did a double take and looked down in earnest.

The less elastic portions of her costume sagged slightly, and the parts that didn’t sag showed a lot less beneath. Her breasts were much smaller - barely-there swellings that hardly indented her costume at all. Her belt was ready to slide past boyish hips, and her legs were much thinner. Her calf boots were now knee high but loose, helping to explain her unsteadiness, but there was something else, as though somehow her body wasn’t used to heels. She flexed delicate fingers in too-large gloves as her mind struggled to accept what her eyes demanded: she was a teenager.

Or less. 12, more likely, the small remnant of calm in her spinning thoughts corrected. She looked at her opponent in an entirely different light, shocked disbelief slowly yielding to a forced acceptance and a new respect.

Lilandra, on the other hand, frowned at the result.

“You’re still too old,” she complained. “That should have made you a little kid.” She looked at her ring uncertainly. “I hope that doesn’t mean … hey, hold it!”

Selina was on the move again. She had misjudged her opponent’s abilities once (not surprising - real magic wasn’t something one expected) but had no intention of allowing her another chance. Her body was weaker and seemed to have lost some of her carefully developed reflexes, but she had grown up in a rough world. Running and dodging were second nature.

Lilandra fired futilely at the darting figure.

“Give it up, ‘Kitten,” she mocked, aiming a blast behind the counter Catwoman had jumped behind. “I’m your only hope to get back to normal. You have to … OOF!”

Selina had somehow reappeared from the other side of the store, and rolled through Lilandra’s legs, knocking her down. In a flash, she had her hands on the ring and pulled it off.

“Sorry, Lil. I don’t like dealing from a position of weakness. I’ll just take this and…”

The flash caught her unawares, and she dropped the ring immediately. Apparently, Lilandra could activate the ring remotely, so holding it was too dangerous. The flash was weaker this time, but she could already feel the tingling robbing her of strength (among other attributes), and gave up on a direct assault. She rolled away and jumped to her feet.

And fell again. Her feet slipped awkwardly in the too large boots, and the high heels seemed impossible to manage at her new size. She kicked them off, noting how skinny and small her legs were in her loose catsuit, and set her teeth after seeing her completely flat chest. Lilandra would pay for this. On Catwoman’s terms.

Retreating for now, she tried to leap to the window - and splatted into the wall halfway up. She started to clamber onto a display case to get closer, but froze as she saw Lilandra facing her with her ring back on her finger and hand outstretched.

“Perhaps Harley can teach you some obedience as well,” she threatened, preparing another bolt.

But a yowling, black blur distracted her. She spun to see Isis already disappearing around a corner after her feint, then back again to see Selina crawling out the window. She loosed the bolt anyway, completely missing the child, but just grazing the small, black form that followed her.

With a cry of anger, Lilandra teleported outside, but could see no sign of either of them in the dark shadows. In frustration, she cursed and teleported away, tired of wasting the time. She wanted to vent on someone, and it was time Harley made good on her promises to bring Batgirl and Supergirl out of hiding.

A young blond-haired girl in a baggy, purple costume watched her leave with narrowed eyes. She pulled off her oversized and now cumbersome cowl with one hand, while stroking a small fluff of black fur in her lap with the other.

“Looks like it’s gonna be a long night, Isis,” she sighed in a now childish voice.

The small kitten purred back contentedly.


**********************************************************************

Courtney closed her eyes as her clothes were pulled roughly off once more, then came the sickening swoop as her body was turned round upside down and back to front. She noticed Amber seemed as interested in examining her older sister’s naked body as how the doll clothes looked on her.

A six foot tall Barbie with a frozen plastic smile suddenly confronted her.

“Why, Courtney,” Jenny’s voice spoke in mock basso while moving the doll rigidly up and down. “You’re naked again, you bad girl. I should spank you.”

“Oh, please, Mommy,” Amber answered for her in a silly, squeaky voice that Courtney realized unhappily was probably lower than her own. “Don’t spank me. My little behind is all sore.”

It was, too. Both girls had administered “punishment” when Courtney had proved reluctant to play nicely with them, and following their mother’s frequent example, they had decided spankings were the approved method. Each had also thrilled at being able to so easily manhandle and manipulate their older and usually aloof sister, now literally helpless in their hands. Even their unpracticed, tentative swats had soon reduced Courtney to tearful compliance, and she now endured their play uncomplainingly while hoping the girls would get tired or their mother would rescue her.

So far, there was no sign of either. The girls had happily occupied Courtney’s room as usually forbidden territory, moving their dolls and accessories in to play. Courtney’s stereo was on (low volume so as not to attract their mother’s attention), her CD collection strewn carelessly about. Her diary lay open, and some of her favorite clothes were crumpled on the floor after a brief game of dress-up.

Amber’s hand closed more tightly around Courtney’s middle, and she made the unhappy teen do a little dance to mimic the doll’s “actions,” except that Courtney’s breasts jiggled wildly with the motion, in stark contrast to Barbie’s rather rigid if more dramatic cleavage. Her bobbling boobs made both girls giggle.

“Am…Am…Ammmberrrrr,” Courtney stuttered through the vibrations. “ST…st..stoppp thatttt.”

Her stomach flipped as she was swung through the air to Amber’s giant, smiling face.

“I don’t think so, SQUIRT,” Amber mocked. “You can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

Courtney’s hands moved reflexively to cover her still glowing pink buttocks.

“I…I know. I’m sorry. Can I please have some clothes again though?”

“You do look funny naked,” Amber admitted, shaking her slightly to watch her breasts jiggle again. Courtney’s hands moved up to steady them. Amber then opened her hand to study the rest of Courtney’s body. “You’re different from the dolls. How come you have hair down there? Yuck.”

Courtney blushed scarlet and moved to cover a more private area.

“It’s normal when you get older,” she protested. She couldn’t believe how helpless she was to her sister’s critical inspection.

Amber flipped her upside down to examine her from the new angle.

“And what about…”

“Amber!” Courtney squealed, desperately trying to cover herself.

“Hey, Amber,” Jenny interceded. “Come on, let’s play. Dress her in something else.”

“Oh, all right,” Amber agreed sullenly. “But these clothes don’t fit so good any more.”

She set Courtney down next to Barbie and the dollhouse, and her words made Courtney’s heart sink anew. When they’d started, the doll clothes had been tight, very scratchy, and hard to fasten, and now they went on and came off easily. Too easily. Barbie herself, leaning drunkenly against the toy house with her serene, vapid smile, now looked positively statuesque. Amber held up a dress against Courtney’s naked body. It was clearly too big.

“I think she’s smaller.” Her words confirmed Courtney’s fears. “How small is she gonna get?”

“Um.” Jenny bit her lip. She hadn’t actually specified any target size.

Courtney looked up panic-stricken, her resolution to play along crumbling.

“Jenny! What have you done? I AM still getting smaller.” She burst into tears.

Jenny and Amber exchanged guilty looks at Courtney’s sobs and obvious fear.

“Don’t cry, Courtney,” Jenny pleaded. “I can fix things.” I hope, she added in afterthought. The consequences of her power had never really occurred to her until now as she imagined having to present the doll-sized girl to their mother.

“How?” Courtney asked between sobs. “Do you even know how you did this? Have you tried UNDOING it?”

“Um.” More guilty looks brought forth more desperate sobs.

“Maybe you can make her a little bigger,” Amber suggested, her own plight temporarily forgotten by Courtney’s distress.

“Sure,” Jenny agreed, brightening. “That’s a good idea.” She touched the medallion. “I wish Courtney was as big as Barbie again.” There was a brief glimmer.

And nothing happened.

After a few seconds, Jenny and Amber looked at each other fearfully. Amber, in particular, suddenly realized how much smaller she still was compared to her younger sister.

“Jenny,” she said, a note of desperation in her own voice now. “Quit foolin’ around.”

“I’m not!” Jenny insisted. “Maybe it just takes a while to work.”

“It was quick before,” Amber corrected.

“Uh, maybe it needs new batteries?” Jenny suggested helplessly.

“Batteries?” Courtney squeaked. “It works on batteries?”

“I don’t know,” Jenny admitted in a quiet voice. “I don’t know how it works.”

“You…?” Courtney’s shock briefly quelled her tears. “I…?” She waved at her tiny form, then screeched and began hammering at Jenny’s legs, tears and sobs returning.

Jenny barely felt the assault, but pushed Courtney back reflexively, sending the teen sprawling with the force from just one finger. But she also felt rising distress at her sister’s plight.

“I’m sorry, Courtney,” she said sincerely. “I hope you don’t get any smaller.”

Strangely enough, the exhausted medallion seemed to revive with her emotion, and it emitted a brighter glow. Courtney felt a corresponding tingle and stopped sobbing.

“I felt something.”

The girls brightened. Maybe it wasn’t broken after all. Unfortunately, the power of the artifact faded with their fears.

“I wish Courtney was my size.”

Nothing.

“I wish Amber was back to normal.”

Nothing again. Amber was clearly worried now. Would she end up like Courtney?

“Jenny, maybe you’d better tell Mom,” she suggested.

“Don’t wanna,” Jenny protested fearfully.

Now tears sprang to Amber’s eyes.

“I don’t wanna be small forever,” she sniffled.

Courtney’s voice joined in a squeaking plea.

“Come on, Jenny. You have to help us.”

Jenny bit her lip but nodded. “OK,” she agreed, climbing to her feet, the precious medallion still clutched in her hand. She walked slowly down the hall and knocked reluctantly on their mother’s door.

Patricia startled awake and glanced at the time, her headache intensified by her interrupted sleep. She saw her youngest peeking in the door.

“Jenny? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Jenny hesitated, afraid to admit the misadventure, then shrugged nervously. The uncertain gesture drew Patricia’s anger.

“What are you still doing up? Where’s Courtney? Why hasn’t she put you to bed?”

“We were playing…” Jenny began meekly.

“Playing?” Patricia almost shouted, getting up and grabbing at her slipping skirt absently. “At this hour? What’s wrong with you girls?”

Jenny broke under the strain.

“I didn’t mean it, Mommy. I was playing with the magic necklace Supergirl gave me, and I shrank Amber, but only a little, and then we shrank Courtney, only sort of a lot, and that’s why it’s not her fault, and we made her like she was a Barbie and it was lots of fun, only now she’s still little and she’s not happy and they said I should ask you what to do.”

Patricia stared at her daughter icily.

“So, let me get this straight. Not only did you ignore my orders about bedtime, but you’re back to lying about super girls and magic nonsense after I expressly forbade it.” She continued grimly as Jenny cowered. “And Courtney is encouraging you? I’ll speak to her next, but first, young lady, you need to see what comes of lying and disobeying.”

“No, Mommy, no!” Jenny wailed, holding her hands over her bottom. Neither of them noticed the medallion glow back into life as her mother grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the bed. “I’m not lying!”

“Lying about lying only makes it worse,” Patricia warned, wrestling with Jenny. For some reason, she found it harder than usual to control Jenny’s struggles, and her daughter seemed heavy as she lifted her up. She must still be groggy from sleep. Another surprise came when she tried to sit on the bed - she couldn’t, and had to jump onto it instead. If she hadn’t been so busy trying to restrain her kicking daughter, she probably would have wondered at both this and the way her feet dangled off the floor.

“I warned you, Jennifer,” she snapped, hoisting the girl onto her lap with a grunt, barely able to lift her. She pulled Jenny’s dress up. A strong tingle swept her body. “Now, hold still.”

The first two blows fell in the normal routine, Patricia grim and Jenny crying, but by the third, the mother began to notice something wrong.

Jenny was feeling heavier again, for one thing, and her small body seemed strangely wide, completely covering Patricia’s thighs. It almost looked like another adult across her lap. Must be the way she was lying. Her hand felt small on Jenny’s backside, and she had to keep shifting to keep the blows centered. Her shirt slipped over her shoulder and felt amazingly baggy and loose, but she thought that must be from sleeping in it. She tried to resume the spanking after straightening it, but now Jenny seemed to lie at a funny angle, making it hard to swing her hand down. She was also amazed at her daughter’s strength, now almost impossible to restrain as she continued to struggle.

Jenny noticed the changes too. She felt the first blow as usual, but then they seemed to rain down with less and less strength. By the fifth, she barely felt a sting. But by then, her attention had centered elsewhere. Hanging over her mother’s lap, she could see Patricia’s feet dangling above the floor. They looked awfully small, and seemed to be getting closer to her.

Patricia paused as the changes became blatant, overwhelming even her unconsciously resolved resistance. Jenny was as big and heavy as an adult, and almost impossible to hold. In fact, a quick comparison to her daughter’s outstretched hand showed it might even be bigger than her own.

“Jenny!” she gasped in panic. “What’s happening? You’re growing! My God, you’re … you’re huge.” And heavy - she was crushing Patricia’s thighs. “Get off! GET OFF!”

She shouted the last in a strange, shrill voice, as she realized Jenny was too big for her to move. In fact, Jenny dwarfed her shrinking lap now, and her bottom was almost chest high. Patricia kicked and squirmed helplessly before Jenny finally rolled off on her own accord.

They stared at each other in amazement. Jenny was almost as tall, standing on the floor rubbing her behind and sniffing back tears, as Patricia was sitting on the bed. Despite her amazing “growth,” her clothes fit perfectly. Jenny, on the other hand, stared back in shock, her fear and indignation almost forgotten at the sight of her mother, small as a toddler, sitting in a puddle of skirt, her feet almost lost beneath its edge, and her shirt drooping over one shoulder. Even as she watched, she continued to shrink, her feet pulling up beneath the collapsed skirt, and her face - frozen with a mask of wide-eyed disbelief - beginning to sink into her sagging shirt.

“Jenny, what’s happening?’ she repeated in a much higher voice, even as realization slowly sank in. She disappeared into her shirt, which closed emptily around her dwindling frame. As if on cue, she started to struggle in her oversized clothes like a collapsed tent, her body rolling across the bed, leaving the empty skirt behind.

“Jenny, help!” her muffled voice squeaked. “I’m trapped!”

Seeming to break out of a trance, Jenny blinked - and the medallion’s glow faded into cold, dull metal. She reached nervously towards the thrashing bundle of clothes, grabbed the shirt and pulled, sending her foot-tall mother sprawling across the bed.

Her nervousness dissolved at the comical sight - her mother, dazed and goggle-eyed, sitting up on the room-sized bed and staring around in disbelief. Her bra had become dislodged in her struggles and almost come off entirely, the hammock-sized garment hanging uselessly over one shoulder. Jenny giggled at her mother’s cherry-sized breasts and how absurd they looked next to the gaping cups of the empty bra. Patricia’s panties had also slipped loose, and lay draped across her thighs like a flag.

Patricia’s eyes finally fixed on her smiling daughter.

“It…it was true,” she said, as though still trying to convince herself.

Jenny nodded, anger displacing her fading fear at the memory of another of her mother’s summary judgments. She rubbed absently at her slightly reddened bottom.

Patricia tried her standard, direct approach as rage flooded her. How dare Jenny shrink her?

“Jenny, you change me back right now. Immediately.” The almost naked woman stood belligerently on the bed, barely eye level to her young daughter, who seemed strangely calm in the face of her mother’s anger. She dropped her useless bra and tried to better cover herself with the ungainly giant panties, pausing to glare at her immobile child. “Do you hear me, young lady? Now! Or I’ll … I will …” She trailed off, not exactly sure what to threaten in her new circumstances.

“Uh uh.” Jenny shook her head. Pleasant memories of dominating Courtney flooded back, and she reveled in another sudden reversal of fortune.

Patricia stamped her foot and waved her fist.

“What do you mean, ‘uh uh’? I’ll spank your bare bottom so hard you’ll … EEK!”

The last was occasioned by seeing a giant hand suddenly reaching to grab her. Jenny’s hand covered her mother from breasts to thigh, and she picked her up and held her sternly in front of her face.

“You were being mean, Mommy. And you wouldn’t listen to me. And…and that’s bad. You know what happens when you’re bad?”

The question seemed uncomfortably familiar, and Patricia suddenly realized why. She gasped again, and held her balloon panties tightly against her bottom.

“You don’t mean … you can’t…”

The panties were tugged effortlessly aside as Jenny turned her mother over in her hands. Seconds later, the first of several loud slaps was followed by squeaking cries of outrage and embarrassment, changing slowly to cries of real pain.

It was the last - and most unlikely - spanking ever administered in the household.

************************************************************************

Lilandra reappeared in their converted greenhouse hideout in a foul mood. Laughter and half-heard calls met her from the kitchen.

“Harley!” she called imperiously.

“In here,” Harley called between giggles.

Lilandra glowered when Harley made no sign of coming out. What kind of respect was this to shown the gang’s leader? She finally walked in to confront her subordinate.

And got hit in the face with a glob of oatmeal.

Lilandra’s cheeks burned. She wiped her face to find Harley and the babies in mid food fight. Ivy was still in her “Lil Sprout” T-shirt while Wire now sat in her high chair wearing a toddler shirt that proclaimed “Batteries Not Included.” Each had white disposables on underneath and both giggled as they threw handfuls of cereal and tasty baby specialties like pureed chicken-with-pears (such combinations are unique to baby formulations where the actual consumer has no control over the choice).

To be fair, Harley had tried to act the proper mother. She had set the babies up in high chairs while cooing and singing, not realizing that was just the sort of treatment that would anger them, then had been perplexed when they refused to eat.

Eventually, frustration gave way to inspiration for the tots. Upon examining the meal laid out before her Wire had decided it would look much better airborne than in her bowl and flung the first spoonful. Harley had scolded her calmly and patiently, then started to clean it up. When the second glob landed from Ivy, she had yelled. But the third, catching her squarely between the eyes, triggered a more primitive response - she threw it back. The kitchen erupted with flying pabulum and squeals of laughter, Harley leading the way.

And Lilandra literally walked into the middle of it.

“Harley!” she screamed as another nameless blob splatted her bare midriff.

“Hi, boss,” Harley called cheerfully. “Care to join us in a late snack?” She saw the glob sliding slowly down Lilandra’s abdomen and giggled. “I see you’ve already tried the mashed bananas. The strained peas throw better.”

“Goo!” Ivy agreed, hurling another handful to reinforce the point.

Lilandra glared, and there was a flash of light.

“Uh oh,” Harley piped as she began to shrink. She watched her harlequin costume begin to sag. Her breasts disappeared beneath a wrinkled top, and the cuffs began to creep over her hands and feet. Even her jester’s cap seemed to deflate, tilting over to the side. “Wait, boss,” the now child called, her mask almost covering her face, and the cap sliding down over her brow. “You don’t want to do that!”

“I think I do, Harley,” Lilandra corrected her. “Since you behaved so childishly, you should look the part.”

“But that’s the way I always behave,” Harley protested, now a little girl. Strangely, she didn’t react with the panic Lilandra had come to expect. In fact, she seemed more curious than anything else as she waved the flopping ends of her sleeves around, then peered down her gaping shirt front.

“Wow, you’re really thorough.” She pursed her lips. “I don’t think Mr. J’s gonna like this. Oh well. So, Sparkles, you gonna go the whole babality move here or what?”

Lilandra paused, disconcerted by Harley’s reaction.

“I, um, well, I …” She frowned. “Why aren’t you crying and begging? Everyone cries when I turn them into a baby.”

Harley shrugged. “Your call, boss. After all, we’re just the GANG. Heck, Mr. J's done a lot worse. Of course, we won’t be able to help you much like this, but then, you’ve been doing just fine by yourself, right?”

Lilandra’s frown deepened. She seemed to be losing gang members faster than gaining them. At last, she gestured, and another energy sphere flew at Harley.

Harley oohed as she refilled her costume, especially as her breasts seemed to inflate beneath her shirt. She ran her hands sensuously around her body.

“Mmm.” Suddenly, she jumped up and down, clapping her hands. “That was cool, boss. Do it again!”

“Um, maybe later,” Lilandra mumbled. “I need your advice. I found Catwoman.”

“You did?” Harley squealed enthusiastically. “Wow, who would have gues…I mean, I told you.” She looked around in confusion. “So where is she?” Then, remembering what Lilandra could do, she started to peer under the furniture. “Here, kitty, kitty.”

“She’s not here,” Lilandra sighed, beginning to wonder about her choice of lieutenant. “She, um, escaped.”

“Another one got away, huh?” Harley shook her head. “Jeez, Sparkles, maybe you should read the handbook or something.”

“Harley!” Lilandra warned in an angry voice.

“OK, boss, just kidding. So, what shall we do? You wanna go finish off the do-gooders, or…” Harley paused and rolled her eyes innocently toward the ceiling. “Maybe take a break and spank the kitty?”

Both babies giggled.

“Spank the …?” Lilandra frowned, then brightened. “Oh, you mean teach Catwoman a lesson?”

Harley paused a few moments. “Yeah, sure,” she agreed. “Whadda you say?”

“I want Cat-girl to worry a while - get good and scared. Then she’ll know better than to cross me. Let’s go after Batgirl and Supergirl,” Lilandra decided.

“Okey dokey,” Harley nodded, ringing her bells merrily. Then she noticed all the food sticking to her costume and the babies’ clothes. “I guess we gotta change the babies…”

“Into what?” Lilandra asked, raising her hands at the ready.

Harley rolled her eyes. “Their clothes, boss.” Then, she got an idea. “Hey, wait a minute. Can you make ‘em a little older? Then they can change themselves.”

“Of course,” Lilandra agreed. She touched her ring and … nothing.

The babies stared wide-eyed and aghast.

“Whatsa matter, Sparkles?” Harley asked, sizing her “boss” up carefully. “Outta pixie dust or something?”

Lilandra frowned. “I may have been using it too much.” While she examined her ring intently, Harley slowly edged across to stand in front of her mallet, reaching behind to grip the handle lightly while whistling innocently. She seemed about to move when the ring glowed back into life. “There,” Lilandra sighed in relief. “I just needed to push a little harder.” She waved it experimentally. “It feels funny though. I’d better not use it for …”

“Hey!” Harley pointed at the high chairs, her mallet forgotten. “They’re getting bigger anyway.”

Sure enough, both babies had aged to toddlers, and were now passing into young girlhood. Their shirts stretched up to expose their rounded tummies and strained, over-tight diapers, even as their faces began to take on more defined and familiar features, including a returning consciousness.

“Ha…Ha…Hawl-wey,” little Ivy labored with still fumbling speech. The cloud was lifting from her mind and her adult personality was regaining control. What she saw was quite a shock. She was sitting in a high chair and could feel the cool air on her bare feet and tummy. She then noticed the baby food that caked her and spied the taunt diaper she wore. The sight repulsed her and as she shifted in the diaper she could just feel ... “Hawl-wey!” she repeated in an angry tone, glaring daggers at her friend.

“Hi, Red,” Harley waved back a bit nervously as Ivy continued to age. She watched the girl distastefully pull a glob of oatmeal from her hair. “Um, looking good.”

Wire also seemed to be recollecting her thoughts. She was also rapidly outgrowing the high chair she was still locked into and began to struggle noisily.

“You…oomph…idiot! When I…arghh…get free, I’ll…”

Live Wire hit adolescence, her body growing with her anger. The diaper popped open, and the shirt began to tear, leaving her early teen body essentially naked. Sparks began to dance around her skin.

“All right, I’m already charging!” she called exultantly. Her breasts began to swell beneath the tattered shirt remnants, as though responding to the electricity. She focused her anger on Harley, remembering all she had just been put through. “Just wait ‘til I finish changing, you clown.”

Harley made a face. “Phwew! Smells like you NEED changing.”

“That’s it!” Wire seemed to literally explode, lightning shattering the high chair into pieces. “You nut case! I’ll make you sorry you ever … ever … ohhh….”

Live Wire seemed to deflate before their eyes. Her nascent breasts evaporated, the dangerous lightning playing around her skin disappeared, and the remains of the shirt began to recover her body. Harley smiled as she returned to relative giantess status, coming over to glare down at a toddler-sized Wire. The suddenly not-so-threatening villainess began to sway on her feet, less and less steady. Her thumb popped into her mouth just about the time she plopped onto her baby bottom.

Harley bent down with folded arms.

“You were saying, Tingles?”

“Harley,” a child’s voice interrupted. “Forget about her! Get me out of here!” Lacking Live Wire's electrical powers Ivy was still stuck in her highchair, her arms pinned to her side. It was a highchair that was getting tighter with each passing second as the young girl kicked her legs and struggled uselessly to get out of it.

Harley quickly freed her, and a relieved Ivy dropped uncertainly to the floor, testing her balance cautiously. Ivy was still young, a few years shy of adolescence, but her manner and speech were like her adult self. Indeed, she felt like her normal self, which made her child’s body that much more difficult to take. At least her age seemed to have stabilized, unlike Wire’s. Still, she realized she had to look up at the normally petite Harley, and gazed at her friend’s womanly curves a bit wistfully, noting the flatness of her own body. She noticed something else too.

"Harley," she sighed. "If you had to put me in diapers why did you choose disposables!? Do you realize how long these things take to biodegrade!?"

Harley put a finger to her mouth and responded nervously. "Uhh, sorry Red. They were cheaper, and uh, I really didn't plan on using them for long considering I was gonna have you turned back soon and all so I knew I wouldn't have to wash anything and .... "

"Oh, just shut up!" Ivy squeaked.

"Okay." Harley whimpered. It was rather funny to see the adult clown being scolded by an eight year old dressed only in a diaper and a stretched shirt stained with baby food. No doubt her time in charge of Ivy was done.

Ivy sighed and put the thoughts aside, then tried to look as imposing as she could considering the circumstances.

“All right, Lilandra. Very impressive. We’ll work wif … I mean, with you. For now.”

Baby Live Wire gurgled her agreement as well, though she never stopped sucking her thumb while keeping a wary eye on Harley.

“Hey,” Harley put in. “That was great the way you made her get big, then small again.”

Lilandra hesitated. “I, um, didn’t do that.”

“What?” little Ivy yelled. “You mean you’re not controlling this?”

Lilandra mumbled, “It’s possible my magic is not entirely stable.”

“Not entirely stable?” Ivy mocked, pointing at the group. “I’m glad you’re here to tell us these things. Are you saying we may change at any moment from adults to babies and back, and you can’t control it?”

Lilandra simply glared back stubbornly. It was left to Harley to sum up this volatile situation.

“Cool!”



Batgirl felt ridiculous and not a little frightened as the Batmobile roared along. It was equipped with an excellent autopilot system, and was quite capable of navigating the city unassisted, even now whisking them back to the Batcave at high speed, but Batgirl was helpless to monitor its course, far too small to see outside the window. Kara shared neither her trepidation nor her predicament, kneeling happily on the seat to watch the scenery whiz by.

At last, Batgirl heard the tell-tale warble of the instruments as they approached their destination and the secret entrance was triggered. After a last few bumps and turns, the car came to a halt, the powerful engines subsiding in a drawn out whine. Using all her strength, she was able to trip the switch opening the roof. The sleek protective cover slid back, exposing the vast expanse of the underground cave Batman had transformed into his operations center, the occasional fluttering of the real bats who still lived here in sharp contrast to the extensive array of advanced computers and analysis equipment that flashed in electronic silence below.

A somber and clearly concerned older man’s face immediately appeared above the opened cockpit. His eyes widened in shock, and for the first time in memory, Barbara saw him completely flummoxed.

“It’s all right, Alfred,” she piped, trying to make her voice at least a semblance of normal. She pulled off her domino mask to reassure him. “It’s me.”

“Miss Barbara,” he finally gasped. “But how?”

“It’s a long story, Alfred,” she sighed, climbing over the side of the car. To her dismay, her feet were still a good two feet of the ground, and after waggling uncertainly a couple of seconds, she had to drop the rest of the way, a far cry from her usual theatrical leap from her seat. The jolt of landing disarrayed her costume again, leaving her standing in a baggy shirt with the sleeves well past her hands. “Would you mind giving my friend a hand out?” she asked, gesturing with floppy sleeves before wearily pulling them up again.

“Of course. And who might this young lady be?” He reached out to tickle the blond baby standing in the passenger seat and eyeing him a bit suspiciously.

“Kara. Well, she used to be Supergirl.”

“Yow! So I see,” Alfred agreed, as Kara squeezed his finger. “Allow me, Miss Kara.” He lifted the tot clear of the car and held her in his arms as he turned back to Batgirl. “Most remarkable, Miss. I was worried when the car left on autopilot, fearing you might be in some danger, but hardly expected this.”

“I think that makes it unanimous,” Batgirl agreed grimly. She proceeded to fill in Batman’s trusted friend and faithful butler with their adventures.

“My word. Unbelievable,” he commented as she finished. He set Supergirl down carefully, then picked up the staff from the car. “And you think you can trace her with this?”

“It’s got to work,” Batgirl said, more to reassure herself. “Look, I’m going to need help reaching the equipment and … whoa!”

She was interrupted as another strong tingle moved through her body. To Alfred’s astonishment, she suddenly began to grow, her shirt bottom actually lifting off the ground, and her figure becoming just recognizable through the loose fabric. By the time she stabilized, she had reached almost three feet in height.

“All right!” she exclaimed. “I’m big again!”

Alfred raised an eyebrow at the waist-high woman.

“Compared to what I’ve been the last couple of hours, I’m a giant,” she insisted. “At least I can use the lab. And I bet I’m taller than Supergirl at least. You have no idea how embarrassing it is to have a baby tower over you. It will be nice to be taller than someone again.”

As if to belie the point, a dazed six year old girl wearing a baggy shirt and now tight diaper suddenly wandered into view. She stood at least a few inches taller than the “giant” Batgirl, but seemed a little unsteady on her feet.

“Ba … Baw … Bawbawa,” she finally managed, grimacing at her still recalcitrant tongue and awkward sounding speech. “What happened?” She looked around in confusion, especially at the diaper on her bottom. Unconsciously, her thumb found its way back into her mouth.

Batgirl sighed. “OK, let’s start back at the beginning.”


An hour found Batgirl hard at work studying the computer analyses she had performed so far. The work was awkward and slow thanks to her size, but using a chair to stand on, and occasionally crawling onto the control panel put most of the machines in reach. Alfred had helped, before silently disappearing on an unspoken errand.

Both she and Supergirl had experienced a few more random swings up and down, but seemed to have stabilized again with her just under three feet and Supergirl about six years old. The blond girl kicked at the floor, bored and restless, still dressed in her shirt and diaper.

“Barbara,” she called in a singsong voice.

Batgirl sighed. Supergirl’s mind was still too young to help her work, but old enough to grow bored quickly. Unfortunately, this resulted in numerous interruptions.

“What, Kara?”

“I wanna do somethin,” Supergirl complained.

“Well, how’s your reading ability? Is it back?” They had discovered that while Supergirl’s memories remained more or less intact, her ability to process data or act appropriately seemed to mirror her age. “What’s this say?” Batgirl pointed to the computer screen, with the heading “EM Pulse Spectral Analysis.”

Supergirl shuffled nervously.

“This is so weird. It’s like it’s there, but all jumbled up.” She squinted, her face an icon for intense concentration. “Um. Impulse Special Anal something.” She snickered. “Anal.” Then started laughing harder. “Ooh, naughty.”

“Analysis,” Batgirl corrected wearily. “I don’t think you’re quite ready to play with the computer yet.”

“Aww.” The girl pouted, then her lip stuck out defiantly. A bored six year old is not easily put off. She simply switched to another complaint. “I don’t wanna wear a diapee anymore. I’m a big girl again.”

Batgirl was frustrated since she was near a breakthrough. She climbed off her chair to look sternly at her young charge, even if she did have to look up a few inches into her face.

“Look, Kara, I’m busy. I think you should leave the diaper on in case you get younger again. Remember what happened 20 minutes ago? Besides, Rook said you might find yourself with the mind of an infant even if you’re physically mature. The magic’s too unstable.”

“It is not!” Supergirl wailed. “I’m not gonna be widdle … um, liddle again.” She stamped her foot. “I’m not! I’m not! I’m … oohhh.”

A powerful tingle swept through her. Suddenly, her legs began to reappear as her shirt crept up an expanding body, and her face became older and better defined. In a minute’s time, a still growing preteen Supergirl stared down triumphantly at a much smaller looking Batgirl.

“See? I told ya!”

Her shirt was still loose, but close enough to fitting her growing form to display two small breast swellings as she hit puberty, and high enough to reveal a now very tightly stretched diaper.

“All right!” Supergirl exulted. “I’m gettin’ big!” She began to skip around in circles. “Me be … um, me be am a …” Her face frowned as her words garbled then abandoned her entirely. Suddenly, her skipping became erratic and awkward. She stopped, but even then her legs started to feel wobbly beneath her. She started to windmill her arms as though to regain balance, but to no avail, and with a look of utter, horrified surprise, she fell to the ground, landing on her padded bottom with an embarrassing plop. Tears sprang to her eyes, barely restrained as she seemed to struggle with confused thoughts. Her thumb shot back into her mouth, even as a now familiar warm wetness spread across her pelvis.

“Are you OK?” a concerned Batgirl asked, eye level to the sitting teen.

The confused adolescent tried to blink back her tears, but gave it up and bawled miserably.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

A shake of her blond hair.

“Is it because you tripped … oh. You’ve regressed out of phase with your body, haven’t you? Has the mental regression returned, Kara?”

Batgirl might as well have been speaking Huttese. Supergirl stared with a blank look for several seconds, then returned to even more copious tears. "Waaaahhhh!"

“I guess that’s my answer,” Batgirl sighed again. “It’s gonna be a long night.”

But it was only 20 minutes before she reached a breakthrough. The computer display showed an isolated energy spike, and a map overlay of Gotham that tapped into several monitoring devices Batman had set up around the city showed two blinking lights.

“Yes!” Batgirl crowed, pumping her fist triumphantly. “Now if we can … oh no!” A tingle moved through her, and she watched the computer display grow before her eyes. The rolled up sleeves of her shirt moved once more past her hands, and the collar started to slip in an increasingly familiar pattern.

An astonished gasp distracted her. She turned to find Supergirl struggling awkwardly to her feet, a few years younger, probably early adolescence, but with a newly focused and highly embarrassed light to her eyes. She reached to pull a pacifier from her mouth with a look of exaggerated distaste (the same pacifier she had sucked on so happily the last 15 minutes after Alfred had found her crying inconsolably on the floor with the distraught Batgirl), then tried a hesitant step or two, moving her legs gingerly.

“Kara? You OK?” Batgirl asked, hopping off her chair.

“Um, yeah. I’m back. I think,” Supergirl replied uncertainly. “Oh God! This is so embarrassing.”

“Tell me about it,” the shrunken crimefighter agreed, a comic sight in her oversized shirt and dangling sleeves. “I’m only waist high to you.”

“At least you’re still you,” Supergirl shot back. “Try wearing a diaper for a while.” She tried another step, more confidently this time, but another awful expression distorted her features, and she rocked her hips with a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” Batgirl asked. “You’re walking like it hurts.”

Supergirl turned crimson.

“I’m wet!” she finally bit out angrily. “There, are you happy? My diaper’s soaked, if you must know, and it’s squishy, and it’s cold, and it’s…” She looked around in frustration. “Where the hell is the rest of my uniform? I want my briefs.”

“Um, you might not,” Batgirl said cautiously. “You wet those earlier.”

Supergirl stared miserably, seeming ready to cry again.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance,” Alfred suddenly put in as he reappeared with an arm full of clothes. “I took the liberty of cleaning your costume, Miss Kara, after Miss Barbara recounted you ordeal. I believe you will find it satisfactory now.”

Supergirl received her clothes with an astonished gratitude, but also alarm at this apparent stranger who knew her secret identity.

“Th … thank you, um …?”

“Alfred, miss. Mr. Wayne’s butler. Of course, you wouldn’t remember - we met when you were, ah, younger.”

“Alfred’s our partner. And friend.” Batgirl put in.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Supergirl smiled, relaxing.

“My pleasure, miss. Sorry to make your acquaintance in such awkward circumstances.” He turned to Batgirl, holding out a small, purple set of clothes. “I thought you wouldn’t mind my altering one of your uniforms, miss. It should fit reasonably well even now, but I incorporated significant quantities of spandex and elastic to accommodate a range of sizes. Shoes were more difficult, but I brought the smallest we had - a pair of Master Tim’s old boots with some extra binders.”

Batgirl ran over to hug his knees. “Thanks, Alfred, you’re a doll.” She stopped to crane her neck up to see his face. “No. Bad choice of words.”

He smiled disarmingly. “Understood, miss. Since Miss Kara seems capable of more standard nutrition again, I thought you might be in need of some refreshments. I’ll withdraw so you can change and return with a snack I’ve prepared for you both.”

He walked back up the steps from the cave, as serene as though taking care of two-foot tall women and diaper wearing twelve year olds was old hat.

“Glad he’s on our side,” Supergirl mused.

Batgirl was already stripping, eager to wear some real clothes that fit. Supergirl reluctantly joined her, then turned away in embarrassment. Seeing Barbara’s small but fully developed woman’s body was like a slap in the face when she pulled off her shirt to reveal a barely developing girl’s body - and dressed in a diaper to top things off. She hurriedly unsnapped it, let the sodden diaper fall to the ground and stepped out of it distastefully, revealing the thin, straight legs, barely-there breasts, and nearly hairless mons of adolescence, before darting behind a piece of equipment with her clothes.

Batgirl recognized the “locker room” discomfort.

“It’s all right, Kara. I understand. I’ve been there.”

“I’ve been there, too,” Kara returned, blushing. “But that was a long time ago, and I only had my mother to compare myself to. Never thought I'd have to start over again.”

“Don’t worry - you won’t. We’ll find Lilandra, and …”

“And what?” Supergirl demanded, suddenly reappearing in her loose top and slipping skirt on a boyish figure. She looked briefly at her oversized shirt. It was normally a tight crop top, exposing her trim tummy while emphasizing her firm breasts, but now hung loosely past her waist, with no sign of the small bumps that were all that remained of her once impressive chest. Her former mini-skirt hung to her knees, with thin, childish legs revealed beneath.

“Look at us.” Her gesture swept to include her half-dressed, half-sized companion. “Do we look ready for another round?”

“I’ve been in worse spots,” Batgirl replied calmly. “And our little witch is hardly the most dangerous person I’ve faced. Look, even her spells don’t work right.” As if on cue, she suddenly lost several inches. She watched helplessly as the computer panel grew farther out of reach. “Darn.” But, as predicted, the elastic in her new shirt cuffs kept them above her hands, and as she put on the pants, they proved a bit long and baggy, but secure in the waist. “Remember, she’s got magic and we’ve got everything else. We stop rushing in headlong - play to our strengths and find her weaknesses. And we’ve already got a way to track her down. We’ll show her she’s still got Supergirl and Batgirl eager and ready to take her down.” As if to emphasize her point, she put on her cowl, completing the transformation from a shrunken victim to a confident and capable crimefighter.

Supergirl nodded, unconvinced but slightly heartened. She began to tidy up her costume, hoping for the same surge of faith. Unfortunately, Batgirl’s next words sank her spirits again.

“Um, the diapers are in that bag over there.”

“What?” Supergirl asked, shocked and mouth agape.

“I think they’ll still fit if you stretch them.”

“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“The magic’s still unstable. You could ...”

“Barbara!” Supergirl’s eyes flashed, and just for a moment, Batgirl thought she felt an accompanying heat. “Forget it! Can you imagine anything more embarrassing than wearing a diaper as a teenager?”

Batgirl’s eyes never flinched.

“Only losing control when I WASN’T wearing one. Something that would become immediately obvious to everyone around me.”

Kara stared murderously for a few seconds, then stalked over to the diaper bag and disappeared behind a display case. Several minutes later, a haughty, grim-lipped Supergirl walked a bit stiff-legged to join Batgirl at the computer.

“OK, so what have you got?” she asked in a tight voice.

“I’ve got them,” Batgirl said with quiet elation. “Or something. I’ve isolated two signals that match those of the staff, one strong and one weak. I’m assuming the strong one is Lilandra herself, and the other is the medallion.”

“What? Then why are we waiting ...” Supergirl jumped in her excitement, then hung suspended a few inches off the ground. “What the...? Hey!” She rose unsteadily into the air, then seemed to stabilize. A second later, with a whoop, she zoomed around the curve of the Batcave, disturbing a flock of its namesakes. She turned sharply, then buzzed a dodging Batgirl.

“Yippie!” she called. “I can fly again.” Her confidence soared with her body.

“I noticed,” Batgirl replied dryly, then called playfully. “But do you remember how to land?”

Supergirl went to alight softly next to her in answer, but misjudged and dropped heavily the last two feet with a less than graceful thud.

“I meant to do that,” the girl covered, rearranging her loose skirt. “So, where’s the witch parked her broom?”

Batgirl pointed at the lighted areas.

“Assuming this is the medallion, it’s in a residential area on the south side.” The light seemed to waver, then came back much weaker, making Batgirl frown. “OK, that can’t be good. This strong one is probably Lilandra, and she’s been moving around 70th and Mercantile.” She crawled onto the control panel to touch the sensor pad, highlighting the area. Several labelled outlines and names appeared. “That’s odd. It’s a shopping area - some jewelry, clothing stores, but right now she seems to be at one of those kids and toy stores.”

“Kids?” Supergirl exclaimed. She jumped into the air and held there effortlessly, pleased no end at the rapid return of her flying powers. “She may be trying something like this on someone else. I’ll see you there.” She started to streak off.

“Wait!” Batgirl yelled, briefly arresting the flash of white and red. From her position beneath the hovering Supergirl, she couldn’t help noticing the tell-tale bulge and exposed plastic strip that marred her red briefs. “We’ve got to stick together. If we combine our attack...”

Supergirl shook her head.

“Sorry, Barb. No offense, but you wouldn’t be able to do much at your size. I’d just be worried about you. With my powers back, we’re better off if I go in fast and hard. And I’ve got a little paying back to do. Lilandra will never know what hit her.” She shot down the passage in a blur.

Alfred had just reappeared holding a silver tray and tea service. He stoically watched Supergirl disappear.

“She seems in quite a hurry.”

Batgirl frowned as she stared down the tunnel. “Too much. She should have waited.”

“Teenagers can be quite impetuous,” he said, giving her a knowing look and discreet cough. It wasn’t often Batgirl had to be the staid member of the team.

“I know,” she admitted. “I just hope she’ll still be a teenager when she gets there.”





Lilandra looked worried as she teleported them into La Place, Gotham’s most upscale and exclusive department store, and anchor to the Hamilton shopping complex. Their illegal entry, bypassing all the alarms, didn’t bother her, of course. It was the increasing strain all her magical expenditures were beginning to take. They had teleported to the wrong place the first time, inadvertently appearing in the children’s store at the other side of the complex, and she could tell her teleportation belt was almost exhausted as well. She wondered if it was a good idea to proceed in their plan to force a showdown with their superheroine targets.

Her regression magic was showing definite instability, and both Poison Ivy and Live Wire had experienced several more episodes of embarrassingly random physical and mental changes before seeming to stabilize in their early teens. Wire possessed enough of her power to knock out the alarm system now that they were safely in. Her mental age was a different story, and seemed to persistently lag her physical appearance. She skipped off to check out the items in the Junior Miss area.

Ivy, on the other hand, seemed to keep her adult mind almost intact despite her junior high looks. In fact, Lilandra had taken to asking her advice over Harley’s when they made plans. She walked over to pick up some perfume bases for her plant toxins. She had insisted on wearing her normal costume, although the green leotard was wrinkled and loose on her youthful body, and she had to forgo her accustomed “strapless” look - there simply wasn’t enough up there to keep her costume from falling.

Harley seemed relatively stable - well, perhaps that’s not the best term to use for Harley. Let’s say her age stayed about the same as normal. It was just as well, since Lilandra was reluctant to use her ring any more. She wanted at least one of them full strength for their final showdown.

Lilandra looked around at the bewildering array of expensive goods.

“Why did we come here?” she asked. “This is just a merchant’s store.”

Ivy looked up. “When you’ve gotten some experience, Lilandra,” she explained. “You’ll learn that nothing seems to bring on the masked types like after hours shopping. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Yeah,” Harley sighed, examining a jewelry display. “Loosen up, Sparkles. Shop ‘til you drop.” She carefully selected an emerald ring from the display, examined it ostentatiously with a jeweler’s glass, then nodded in satisfaction. Whereupon, she tossed the ring over her shoulder and swept the rest of the jewelry into a booty bag.

Lilandra was perplexed. “Why would I wish to drop?”

“It’s an expression,” Ivy explained, selecting some expensive bottles for her own bag. “The stores are much more pleasant this way. No crowds, no hassle, no payments. Harl and I do all our shopping this way. Try it.”

Lilandra had been expecting a great battle, and was exasperated by their acquisitive behavior. However, she also began unconsciously fingering a stylish jacket on display next to her.

“I do not see the point of … of ….. Ooh, this is nice.” She pulled the jacket off the mannequin and held it against her body appraisingly.

“Now you’re getting it,’ Harley said approvingly. “But watch it. Enjoy it too much and the superheroes come running.”

“But Supergirl flies,” Lilandra protested.

“Uh, right. Nothing gets by you, does it, Sparkles?” She hoisted her giant mallet over her shoulder. “I’m gonna check out the stuff in those locked cases.”

“Subtle, as always,” Ivy murmured to the sound of shattered glass.


Some time later, a pile of furs, clothes, jewelry, and expensive accessories had taken form. Lilandra felt exhilarated - happy and invigorated by both her own “shopping” and by seeing her first real “haul” as Harley put it. Her gang was a success after all. They were almost finished, with Ivy selecting a few last chemical/cosmetics and Wire adding some electronics to the loot. Harley pounded futilely at a wall safe with her mallet.

“Maybe it doesn’t open that way,” Lilandra suggested.

“Uh…uh…uh…” Harley grunted, each exclamation marking another blow.

Suddenly, a red, white, and blue blur shot by. Harley found herself empty handed in mid strike and sprawled awkwardly as she lost balance. A whoosh of air disarranged Lilandra’s hair, and she felt a tug at her middle. She reached up to find her teleportation belt and magic crown gone.

“Looking for these?” a voice called behind her.

She turned to find Supergirl smugly holding both items. Lilandra’s heart sank to see the heroine a young teen again - not back to normal certainly, but obviously once more in possession of her powers and confidence.

Unknown to Lilandra however, the confidence was partly show. Supergirl’s flight had become erratic on the way to the store, and though no one had noticed, she had actually crash-landed at the end. Still, substituting super speed for flight had given her the drop on them just now, and her strength was intact. She should be able to hold them.

“Thought this might keep you around to the finish this time,” she continued. As Lilandra made to raise her ring, Supergirl shot forward, grabbing an oriental rug from across the floor, then back faster than the eye could follow. Seconds later, Lilandra was wrapped in a woolen cocoon, only her head visible, her hand immobilized.

And no one except Supergirl noticed how she tripped at the end, as though suddenly unable to cope with her speed. Supergirl also unobtrusively rearranged her shirt, which seemed a bit looser than she had thought.

“Well, well, a super-squirt.” Harley had recovered and examined Supergirl carefully. She could sense the insecurity the 12 year old tried to hide. “Does your big sister know you’re filling in for her? Oops, then again, you’re hardly filling in that uniform, are you?”

“Glad to see you too, Harley,” Supergirl tried to look confident. “I was hoping for a rematch.”

“You said it!” a New York accent called from behind. An instant later, arcs of electricity silhouetted Supergirl into a screaming, arching outline. Live Wire came around into view, pouring energy into the crimefighter. “Remember me, Super-Brat?”

Supergirl couldn’t answer - it was all she could do to keep from passing out.

“No?” Wire continued. “I’m shocked. No, I guess you are.”

Even as the taunt left her lips, however, the lightning arcs flickered, then disappeared. Supergirl collapsed to the ground, dazed but still conscious, Lilandra’s magic items rolling away from numb hands.

“Hey,” Wire complained in a high-pitched voice. “I lost my juice.”

“That’s not all you lost,” Ivy commented appraisingly.

“Huh?”

Live Wire looked down to see her teen fashions, so newly acquired, hanging loosely on a skinny, seven year old body. She continued to lose height and years as they watched, all but disappearing into her clothes.

“Oh no!” the toddler cried. “What gives? Hey, Wiwandwa … Wi …Wire … WAAH!”

A small baby kicked a tantrum on the floor, draped in what had only recently been a sexy leather vest.

“I…I didn’t do it,” Lilandra protested.

“Never mind!” Harley called, retrieving her mallet. “Finish her off while she’s down!” She swung the giant bludgeon towards the still recovering Supergirl’s head.

Inches from impact, Supergirl’s hand shot out and grabbed the handle, stopping the mallet dead. Not letting go, she slowly stood and glared at Harley.

Harley forced a frightened smile.

“Hey, pretty good grip for a little kid. Who’d have thought?” She suddenly whipped out a Groucho-style fake nose and glasses set. “You wouldn’t hit someone wearing glasses would you?”

A moment later, Harley went sailing across the room with a wail, her question answered.

Ivy watched all the exchanges carefully. She thought Supergirl looked different after Wire’s attack, and now, as she rearranged her very loose uniform after dealing with Harley, she was sure of it. Her breasts were almost nonexistent, and the usually mini-length skirt had crept back to just above knee level, revealing thin legs and knobby knees of early adolescence. Ivy smiled and reached into the pouch on her belt, pulling out several large, green pods.

Supergirl steadied herself as she felt a wave of weakness wash over her. OK, she had dealt with Lilandra and Harley and, well, outlasted Live Wire. That just left Poison Ivy. She tugged unconsciously at her loose skirt to pull it back up over her hips, wondering the best way to handle this. If she were lucky, she might get Ivy to surrender - after all, one on one, there was no contest.

“OK, Ivy. You might as well come out, and I’ll go easy. Otherwise, the gloves are off.”

“Probably because they don’t fit!” Ivy teased, briefly appearing, then dodging behind a clothes rack. “The training bras are over there behind you.”

Supergirl felt unaccountably stung at the comment, and grimly walked towards the rack with balled fists.

“You should talk,” she shot back. “Looks like your costume is about to fall off.”

“At least I’m not wearing diapers,” Ivy called out, unseen and now around a corner. She had seen the telltale bulge while Supergirl had been on the ground, and given her own recent experiences, suspected the truth.

“You…I…” Supergirl fumbled, tears stinging her eyes. She couldn’t understand why another girl’s taunts bothered her so much. (Welcome to junior high, Supergirl.)

“Aww, is the baby gonna cry?” Ivy mocked, still hidden.

Supergirl forgot being cautious and ran furiously around the corner - right into the waiting arms of one of Ivy’s monster plants.

It bound her instantly, lifting her off the ground in coiling vines, joined immediately by two adjacent plants. Ivy reappeared and laughed as the strong vines twisted round and round Supergirl’s arms and legs.

“We’ll see what’s funny when I get free,” Supergirl fumed, already snapping the first vines. “You know your stupid, little plants can’t hold me.”

“Who says they're supposed to?” Ivy asked cryptically, watching carefully as the last of Supergirl’s breasts faded away.

Supergirl broke another of the monster vines cleanly, but found herself having more trouble with the others. The vines seemed to be getting stronger and tougher. She switched tactics and used her heat vision to slice through the next.

It was all Ivy could do to restrain herself as Supergirl cut through her precious plants, but she had to see her plan through. She could already see Supergirl’s face youthening further, and her body began to shrink as she retreated from adolescence.

Another vine fell, but for some reason, Supergirl’s heat vision cut out. She stared and sweated to no avail.

Harley had recovered and helped Lilandra free herself. They came over to the scene of the struggle, little Wire crawling along behind.

“What gives, Red?” Harley asked. “How come you’re just standing there?”

“I think our little superhero is almost done,” Ivy answered smugly.

Supergirl strained with all her might. One vine snapped, but the others held firm, and seemed to suddenly jump several fold in strength.

“Hey!” Harley called as she looked more closely. “She got younger.”

“Exactly,” Harley nodded.

Supergirl gasped and looked down. Sure enough, she was a little girl again, no more than eight. No wonder the vines seemed so much stronger. She stopped struggling as the uselessness of continuing became obvious.

“Like with Live Wire,” Ivy continued. “Using their powers seems to reactivate the regression magic.”

“Huh? I mean, of course,” Lilandra said, impressed by Ivy’s cool battle analysis and plan. She could see why Ivy had lead the team before.

Harley had retrieved her mallet.

“OK, girlie, payback time!” She swung it back.

“Harley, stop!” Ivy ordered, making the harlequin figure spin comically around as she broke off. “Don’t be so crude. If we hurt her too badly, a certain relative of hers could make our lives miserable, and Batgirl could send him right to us. Until we have them both, we’ll have to be careful. Besides, there are other ways to have fun.”

“Whatta ya mean, Red?”

“Well, take a peek beneath Supergirl’s skirt there.”

Harley, wondering what Ivy had in mind, lifted the drooping skirt gingerly. Then she saw the bulge and telltale plastic strips.

“Diapers!” she crowed. “Ohhhh, did snookums have a wittle accident? Oh, man, wait until this gets out. I’m gonna get some pictures.”

She ran to the camera aisle, while Supergirl struggled again desperately, again near tears. Harley returned with a gleeful smile and several video and digital still cameras.

“I can’t wait to post these,” she giggled. “Aw, smile, honey. You’re gonna be all over the Internet tonight.”

“Lilandra,” Ivy suggested. “Can you…” She trailed off into a whisper.

Lilandra nodded with her own smile. A small silver sphere appeared around her ring and shot towards the helpless Supergirl.

Kara braced for the impact, but seemed to notice nothing afterwards. Good. She needed to make a plan. If she could distract Ivy and Lilandra, she could … could… Now, what was she just thinking? Her thoughts seemed to blur. She needed to … something …ooh, why did that mean clown girl keep taking pictures? She kicked at the vines and wiggled helplessly while thinking, "Stupid plants. Stupid plant girl." Her struggles were useless however and she only succeeded in flinging off her now gigantic boots.

Supergirl didn’t notice though as her thoughts became ever more simplistic. Soon, all she could think was that these girls were being mean to her and wouldn’t let her go. She began to sniffle softly, then cry more openly as her emotional control disappeared.

“You meanies!” she sobbed, her body unchanged even as her mind regressed. “Me no go … goo …la ma da,” she finished babbling with a blush, suddenly realizing she had lost verbal command.

As well as something else. As she began to slip past rational thought, her body’s control slipped with it, and she abruptly realized she was using the diaper just as intended. The remnants of her conscious mind recognized what had happened, and she started bawling in helpless shame.

Harley also noticed immediately.

“Phew! Looks like somebody needs a new diaper.” She set the video camera to automatic record. “Awww, don’t worry baby. Auntie Harley will change you.”

The words should have been a comfort, but somehow hearing the clown girl’s cooing just made Supergirl cry even harder.

"Now, off with the silly ole super skirt." Harley sang cheerfully as she unlatched Supergirl's skirt and tossed it over her shoulder. Observing the now soaked garment underneath she commented, "Wow. These really took a beating, huh? They must be ... 'Super' absorbent!"

Harley's laughter only made Supergirl cry harder. She squirmed again as the clown reached for her sagging diaper then blushed as the disposable was untaped and removed. The smell hit the room like a mallet. The only one it didn't seem to bother was Harley. She was having too much fun.

"Naughty baby. Hold still for auntie." Harley gleefully snag as she used the old diaper to clean Supergirl up. Without thinking she turned Supergirl on her side and wacked her on the behind. A loud smack echoed in the air as the heroine's cries became louder. Harley stared at her hand in shock.

"Heyyy! That didn't hurt!" Noticing the fearful look Supergirl was giving her, Harley continued with "But it hurt you didn't it?" A wicked grin came to Harley's mouth as a thumb came to Supergirl's.

(SMACK) "Bad Supergirl!" (SMACK) "You shouldn't (SMACK) have hit auntie!" (SMACK) "Or attacked (SMACK) her friends." (SMACK) "See what happens (SMACK) to bad little girls?" (SMACK) "Bad wittle Supergirl." (SMACK) "Bad baby." (SMACK)

By the time Harley had stopped her assault Supergirl's behind was as red as her cape and the fearless heroine was bawling her eyes out. Harley then pulled the cape from the girl's shoulders and began folding it.

"Might as well do something useful with this. Now lift your butt Superbaby or you'll really have something to cry about!" she threatened. As quickly as she could, Supergirl complied. As her asscheeks met the fabric of her cape however she lost control again, wetting herself. Harley just smiled and wrapped her charge up in the makeshift diaper.

"We'll just wait until you really need a change. Babies get used to wearing wet didees after all." Harley commented, laughter immediately following. It quickly spread through the room as Supergirl sat up, sucking harder on her thumb. Her sore behind burned in her soaked cape and she could feel her bare feet against the cold floor. It didn't matter though as her mind was completely gone by this point. Within seconds she too was giggling.



The Batmobile whined to a stop outside a modest, two story house, the onboard telemetry indicating it had successfully reached its destination. Batgirl relaxed a bit as the engine died. She hated leaving it to the automatic pilot to get around, but had no good alternative. She had asked Alfred to stay behind and try to contact Batman or Superman while she went into action. Despite her reduced circumstances, she almost hoped he failed - she wanted to see this through herself.

She also fretted over the decision to come here first. Her first thought had been to go straight to Supergirl’s aid (despite Supergirl’s rather cutting dismissal), but had chosen instead to track the other magic signal. Supergirl could take care of herself (as long as her powers held), whereas there was no telling what danger ordinary people could face at the mercy of Lilandra’s unstable magic. The fact that the magic signal she was tracing had flared a couple of times and then died out did nothing to assuage her fears.

She studied the house that had been the signal source. It seemed normal enough, except that several lights were on at this late hour. Well, if they were awake, it was best to be direct.

Trying to hide her embarrassment, the currently two foot tall caped crusader stretched to reach the doorbell. If she was wrong about her guess that the magic had been active inside, whoever opened the door was in for a heck of a shock. At least she’d be able to convince them more easily about the danger they faced.

Batgirl was astounded when Jenny opened the door, not only that the young girl was still up, but at the way she loomed a foot taller than herself. She had almost become used to her height, and it took being dwarfed by a five year old to bring it home again. Jenny looked exhausted, both physically and emotionally.

“Jenny? You’re still awake?” Maybe this would work out after all. “It’s me, Barbie…I mean, Batgirl. Jenny, this is very important. Did you take that special necklace Supergirl was holding earlier?"

Jenny nodded wearily, apparently beyond surprise at this point, even when miniature superheroes came to call. What seemed more interesting to her was how Batgirl had gotten bigger.

“You got big,” she said, perking up.

“Relatively speaking,” Batgirl agreed. “Jenny, you have to give me that medallion. I need it to fight a very naughty lady. Can I have it, please?”

Jenny hesitated.

“Jenny, Supergirl and I need your help, and I think that medallion could be just what we need. Will you help us?”

Jenny struggled, almost answered, then a squeak sounded upstairs.

“I need it,” she announced, starting to close the door in a panic.

“Jenny, wait.” Batgirl pulled on the door, but realized she was on the losing edge of a contest of strength with a five year old. “It’s not just for me. It could mean saving Gotham.” She tried to read the worried child’s face. “And maybe the only chance to save your family.”

Jenny stopped, astonished.

“How did you know?” she whispered.

Batgirl pointed at her own baggy clothes. “A guess. I figured that’s why you were so scared. What happened?”

Jenny’s story poured out, glad to unload to someone who promised to help. She led the way upstairs.

Batgirl gasped despite herself. There sat an older but smaller girl in her too large clothes, a foot tall woman dressed only in an old, oversized toddler shirt, and a doll-sized teenager in Barbie clothes. Between them sat the medallion, cold and lifeless, resistant to all their attempts to reactivate it.

“Mommy, Mommy,” Jenny called out as they entered. “This is the Batgirl Barbie doll I told you about. Look, she got bigger. Maybe she can help us.”

Batgirl saw the shock her own appearance elicited, but remained outwardly confident as she introduced herself and explained some of what she knew. The family was so desperate to know what was going on, they heard her with obvious relief and rising hope. No one questioned the reality of magic - one didn’t when reduced to a foot in height. However, they all jumped when Batgirl unexpectedly shot up three inches in height. They clamored to know how she’d done it, only to be disappointed when she explained it was random.

“You mean you haven’t changed since Jenny shrank you?” Batgirl asked in wonder.

They shook their heads. Batgirl looked at Jenny with interest.

“It looks like Jenny casts a better spell than the self-proclaimed sorceress.”

Despite her exhaustion, Jenny beamed.

“Never mind that,” Courtney squeaked. “Can you help us?”

Batgirl picked up the medallion and closed her eyes in concentration. Nothing. Everyone’s shoulders sagged.

“Told ya,” Jenny said quietly.

“It’s all right,” Batgirl pretended confidence. “I was warned it would run out of power. We just need to recharge it.”

“How do you do that?” Patricia asked desperately, leading a chorus of questions.

Batgirl’s communicator beeped. She quieted them and picked it up. Alfred’s always calm voice came through the receiver.

“I thought I should let you know, the other signal has moved. I’ve downloaded the new coordinates to the Batmobile. It’s a former florist’s greenhouse in Old Gotham. Will you proceed there directly?”

“Any word from Supergirl?”

“I’m afraid not. Still, might she not be the cause of the signal moving? She may have already routed this Lilandra.”

“Maybe,” Batgirl agreed uncertainly. “She wouldn’t be able to track her though. I’d better go check out the area.”

“No need,” Alfred replied. “I’ve already alerted the police to check the stores out. You can monitor their dispatches. If Supergirl returns here, I’ll redirect her. If not … well, perhaps you’d best follow up that lead quickly.”

“Agreed. A greenhouse, huh? You don’t suppose …. Nah, what are the odds? Any luck reaching the boss?”

“I’m afraid not. Superman has also proved most elusive. Would you like me to meet you there?”

“No. Keep trying. See if Nightwing is available.”

“Very well, miss. However, I’m afraid superheroes seem rather scarce tonight. Do be careful.”

“Don’t worry. Just have my real costume waiting. I’m looking forward to ‘growing up’ again.”

“Already cleaned and pressed, miss. Good luck.”

“Roger that,” Batgirl agreed. She switched off the transmitter and held up the medallion before an audience of pleading eyes. “I’ve got an idea.”



Batgirl’s heart raced to mirror the Batmobile’s dying turbines as she stopped a half mile from the old greenhouse. Her mission had a new urgency. The police had reported no one remaining at the crime scene, but obvious signs of a struggle. Not to mention 15-foot-tall monster plants. Batgirl’s suspicions about Poison Ivy seemed confirmed, making the quest that much more difficult. She wished she’d had a chance to pick up some of the special herbicides Batman kept for just her sake.

She approached cautiously on foot. At least her new size allowed her to move even more quietly, and with hardly any silhouette to speak of. Great for stealth work. Maybe she had some kind of edge.

Yeah, right. Two feet tall and up against Poison Ivy and an other-dimensional sorceress. Had to like those odds.

The greenhouse seemed dark and deserted from a distance, but as she got closer, she realized there were shielded lights inside. She could see at least two alarms rigged to the outside door, and most of the windows were sealed shut. However, an open skylight in one of the old wings beckoned as a less obvious entry point. She loaded a grappling hook into her launcher and fired.

She thought she was prepared, but the way her size kept changing fooled her again. The recoil sent her flying and the hook off target. It clattered across the roof before rolling off the other side.

So much for her edge. She waited breathlessly for signs of discovery. When none appeared, she decided it was either a trap or a false lead. Not that the knowledge helped her. She carefully tested the line and found it had miraculously secured on something after all. Silently, she scaled the wall and peered inside the skylight.

All was dark and still. A number of broken pots, some dead ornamental trees and brown vines were all she could make out. She dropped noiselessly inside.

Immediately, the dead-looking vines snapped to life. In seconds, they had bound her hands and feet, pulling her against a dead tree trunk. The vines were strong enough to hold their intended victim, Batman, and were impossible for the shrunken Batgirl to resist. At least by brute force. Instead, her hand began slowly working its way towards a tool on her belt.

What would have happened had she reached it we’ll never know. Instead, she was interrupted as the lights in the room switched on.

“About time,” Ivy announced. “I told Lilandra you’d find us, but she didn’t believe me. But then, she’s never faced you Bat-types before. Wait a minute.” She smiled at the tiny Batgirl and her makeshift costume. “I guess you’ve met before after all.”

“Look who’s talking,” Batgirl shot back. “Think they’ll let you skip junior high this time if you’re a good girl?”

Ivy glanced at her pubescent body and blushed. Suddenly, Batgirl smiled.

“Forget junior high. At the rate you’re going, you’ll be lucky to avoid kindergarten.”

Ivy gasped as she felt the changes sweep through her again. Her breasts disappeared, her face rounded, with freckles spreading around a button nose, and she had to grab at her slipping green leotard as it swallowed her .

“Damn,” she said. “Lilandra must have had to zap Supergirl again. Every time she uses that stupid ring, one of us changes.” Her voice rose in pitch as she spoke. This time, her mind seemed to change with her body, and soon a slightly confused little girl looked up at the trapped crimefighter.

“Quite a partner,” Batgirl jeered. “Maybe I should have brought a baby carriage to bring you to the police.”

“Stop it!” Ivy demanded, stamping her foot petulantly and settling her wrinkled leotard lower on her legs. “If you’re such a big smarty-pants, how come you fell into my twap…er, trap?”

“It’s superhero code,” another voice called from above. “They have to at least try. Sweet dreams, princess.”

An object whizzed down to explode at the astonished Ivy’s feet. Before she could react, a cloud of quickly dissipating gas rose around her. Her eyelids fluttered, and she sank to the ground in deep sleep.

A girl, 11 or 12 years old by what Batgirl could see of her figure through a wrinkled catsuit, dropped into the room. She flicked her arm. There were several whistling cracks, and Batgirl fell to the ground as the cut vines writhed impotently.

“Catwoman…er, girl?” Batgirl asked incredulously.

Selina coiled her whip and fixed it to her belt, pulling her suit back up at the same time.

“CatWOMAN,” she acknowledged, centering her oversized cowl. “No matter what that witch may do. I see she also cut you down to size. Cute. Can I get the name of your tailor?”

“Very funny. So, are you in league with her too?”

“Hardly, or I wouldn’t have rescued you, doll. Lilandra tried to … recruit me earlier tonight. I guess my answer disappointed her. We need to settle a few things.”

“How’d you find her?”

“She told me she had Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn and someone named Live Wire with her.”

Batgirl’s heart sank. Harley she had sort of expected, but Live Wire too?

“I always make it a point to stay informed - especially about potential rivals - so I knew where to find Ivy and Quinn. I’d been watching the place about 30 minutes before you showed up.”

“Watching? For what?”

“For someone else to spring that obvious trap,” the girl replied primly. “I mean, a single skylight left open for entry? Really.”

“Yeah. Well, thanks for the help,” a chagrined Batgirl admitted. “Truce?”

“Of course. I think we have the same goals here. The trick will be separating the little witch from her ring. Any ideas?”

“Little is exactly right.” Batgirl held up the medallion. “And you just gave us an advantage. Here’s my plan.”

Selina listened once, absorbing every detail. Batgirl couldn’t help noticing that even as an 11 year old, she seemed to have more poise and a nimbler mind than most adults.

“Any reinforcements?” Catwoman asked. “Is your boss coming?”

Batgirl noticed a tell-tale tone in the last question, and couldn’t resist teasing her new partner.

“He’s busy. And I don’t think a little girl like you could do much to attract his interest anyway.”

Selina flushed.

“I am NOT a little girl!” She stamped her foot angrily. “I am not … damn.” She lost a few years in mid sentence, and the catsuit now sagged even more sadly around an eight year old body.

“You were saying?” Batgirl asked sweetly.

“Very funny. I’m STILL taller than you, short stuff.”

“Touché. We have to be careful. The magic seems to react to our thoughts and feelings, at least on the downside. I haven’t been able to think myself taller.”

“Same here. Why don’t we try a more direct approach?”


“She shoulda been back by now,” Harley whined. “What if that was Batgirl? And what if she managed to get the drop on Red?”

“Pretty pitiful if she could get beaten by a Barbie doll,” Wire sneered. “I should have gone. I could have zapped her without breaking a sweat.”

“Yeah, and ended up in diapers again,” Harley shot back. “I’m getting tired of changing your sorry little bottom.”

“OK, nutcase, you asked for it,” Wire began sparking threateningly.

“Stop it, both of you,” Lilandra ordered. “If it was Batgirl, and she somehow gets by Ivy, we use her backup plan. Understand?” Unspoken was the acknowledgment that Ivy made the plans now.

“Yeah, all right,” Wire grumbled, secretly relieved since the use of her power had such a profound side effect.

“Live Wire, take up your position. Harley, open the door.”

“Right, boss.” She threw the door open. “Ally ally out-in-free,” Harley called enthusiastically. “Come on in. We’re waiting.”

As if in answer, a Batarang with cable whizzed in, circling Harley and pinning her arms. A smoke grenade followed.

“Hold it, Batgirl,” Lilandra called loudly. “Stop whatever you’re doing and come in with your hands up, or Supergirl suffers a shocking fate. Come in and see what I mean.”

The smoke cleared, revealing the diminutive crimefighter poised and ready in the door. She gasped as she looked past the struggling Harley.

A two-year-old Supergirl sat happily in a playpen, dressed in a frilly pink baby bonnet, little red booties, a big fluffy cloth diaper that was secured with 'Supergirl' safety pins, a red blanket pinned around her neck and a child-sized caricature of her costume shirt which sported a red “S” in crayon squiggle on the front. She was sucking a pacifier and playing with a stuffed toy puppy. Wire stood menacingly above her, electricity arcing between her hands.

“At this age, and without her powers,” Lilandra continued. “She probably wouldn’t survive Live Wire’s full charge. Surrender, Batgirl. I have truly beaten you both now.”

Batgirl sagged in defeat.

“All right, Lilandra. You win.” She looked around at the triumphant villains, then at her regressed friend. She suddenly looked very frightened. “Just please don’t make me a baby, like you did her. I couldn’t stand it. It’s awful enough being small like this.”

“Do it! Do it!” Harley insisted, freeing herself with a grunt. “I wanna see her crawl.”

“Well put,” Lilandra agreed. “By your own words, Batgirl, your punishment is decided. Harley, hold her.”

“Right, boss.” Harley held Batgirl roughly at the shoulders. “Just don’t miss, OK?”

“Don’t worry, Harley. Just watch and enjoy.” A large, silver energy sphere took form.

“Yeah, watch it!” a girl’s voice called from behind the door.

“Huh?” Harley spun to find the door swinging towards her, catching her square in the face. Batgirl twisted from her grasp, caught her feet in her own, and sent her stumbling forward. Harley had just enough time to feel something tucked into her waist when she saw the energy ball upon her.

“Oh noooo!” she wailed, her voice rising in pitch while her body disappeared into her costume. Seconds later, a white faced baby wearing an oversized jester’s cap and mask crawled out of the collapsed shirt. The bells in the hat jingled, and the baby laughed delightedly, grabbing at them, and forgetting about the fight around her.

A dark-suited figure leapt from behind the door towards Live Wire and Supergirl.

“Catwoman!” Lilandra shouted. “How dare you?”

Live Wire came up firing.

“No way, girlie,” she challenged, firing several electric bolts. To her dismay, the figure charged right through them. She knew her electric power was much diminished, but surely not this weak? A whip cracked, and Wire’s legs were bound.

“How?” she gasped as Catwoman came alongside.

“Learn some fashion sense,” Selina purred. “My outfit’s leather, and I took some insulation precautions when Lilandra told me you were here.” She pulled on the whip, expecting to upend Wire.

Instead, Wire yanked back, pulling Catwoman off her feet.

“Learn yourself, kitten. You’re pretty small to be playing with whips.”

Selina had forgotten how small and weak she was, but her fighting instincts cut in and she recovered immediately, rolling on into the off-balance Wire and sending them both onto the floor and into a fierce cat-fight. (Ouch. Sorry - had to use it at least once.)

Batgirl, meanwhile, had used the distraction to fumble through Harley’s empty clothes. She seemed to find something just as Lilandra took aim again.

“You…you…” Lilandra sputtered. “I’ll finish you first, then deal with the traitorous Catgirl.”

“You mean, like this?” Batgirl asked.

Something shiny dangled in her hand. As Lilandra squinted, it flashed brightly, and a ball of light engulfed her.

“Nooo!” she cried, feeling her own magic turned against her. “It’s impossible!”

“Yeah, that’s what I would have said. Yesterday,” Batgirl commented dryly, hoping her trick had worked. As expected, Lilandra’s magic bolt had charged the medallion again.

Lilandra’s bikini-like top sagged as her breasts shrank out of it, and the bottom half began to slide past her hips. Her legs sank into her boots until they were past her knees, and the cape settled to the floor like a blanket. As she shrank, her hands flew back and forth to preserve her modesty, and suddenly there was a clinking sound.

Batgirl seemed to have been waiting for just that sound. She had already closed as if to grapple with her shrinking foe, but now instead dove to the ground and rolled up holding the ring triumphantly. In the same motion, she let loose another Batarang cable, trussing Lilandra neatly.

“Game’s over, Lilandra,” she declared, coming over to once again look evenly and confidently eye to eye to the sorceress. “Unless you’d like to try me without your magic?”

“No, no, no!” Lilandra shouted, almost tripping in her oversized boots as she backed away. “Harley, Live Wire, do something!”

“Wire’s all tied up,” Catwoman announced, suddenly appearing behind Batgirl and plucking the ring from her fingers. “And I’ll take that.”

Batgirl spun. “We had a deal.”

“And I kept it. We work together to get the ring. Now, how does this work?”

While they argued, Lilandra fumed, struggling in her bonds. Then she saw something that made her smile.

Now, whether Harley responded to Lilandra’s plea or was simply getting into trouble, we may never know, but the fact was that the baby harlequin had found the special high-powered hose she had used against Live Wire earlier still sitting on the ground. She picked it up with a gurgle of delight and pulled on the switch at its nozzle base.

The pressure sent the hose flying out of her hands, out of control around the room. It soaked Catwoman and Batgirl, hitting them like a fire hose, while Lilandra dove out of the way at the last instant. Live Wire, bound by Catwoman’s whip, turned at the noise just in time to see the column of water rushing at her.

“Not again!” she cried.

Unfortunately, the author ignored her (and the charges of endless repetition), and the water slammed home. Live Wire shrieked as her high voltage discharged completely, a strobe effect lighting the room, and electricity charging the floor.

In particular, shocking everyone in contact with the water. Both Batgirl and Catwoman screamed as the voltage caught them, the water counteracting Catwoman’s insulation. Both dropped senseless to the floor, while Harley clapped her hands at the fireworks, safe on one of the few dry spots thanks to her position behind the hose.

Batgirl slowly cleared her head, still on all fours and barely able to rise from the floor. She saw Selina lying unconscious nearby. What had hit them? Oh … yeah. An instant later, her training kicked in and she jumped to her feet in a defensive pose.

Lilandra stood across the room. She held both the medallion and the ring, and had restored herself to her normal size.

“In answer to your question, Batgirl,” she smirked. “I’d rather face you WITH my magic, thank you.” She laughed at her joke, and Harley gurgled appreciatively across the way. “Did you really think a little nobody like you could beat me when your super-powered friend couldn’t? You don’t even have any powers. Ha! You didn’t stand a chance.” She raised the magic items triumphantly and proclaimed, “Lilandra, the Enchantress…”

“Talks too much,” Batgirl finished. She was ready this time, and was tired of always fighting on Lilandra’s terms. Time to take control, and do this the way she knew. Whether doll-sized or full-sized, she was Batgirl, and it was time Lilandra learned to deal with that.

In the half second it took for her to decide, she had her last Batarang out, all her concentration focused. She instantly compensated for her reduced size and strength, and hefted it to gauge its relative weight, then sent it flying.

Time seemed to go into slow motion. Batgirl could almost see the whirring disc’s revolutions as it flew, and Lilandra’s smile fading as it approached. For what seemed several agonizing seconds she watched it fly, all else forgotten. Time almost stopped….

And it struck true, hitting the ring directly on its jewel, shattering it and knocking it from Lilandra’s grasp, then ricocheting into the medallion and carrying it away. Even as Lilandra yelped in pain and grabbed her stung fingers, the ring exploded in a sun-bright burst of light.

Supergirl jumped to her feet, completely restored and equally befuddled. She saw Batgirl facing a young girl in Lilandra’s costume.

“Bamrll,” she began, suddenly realizing she was trying to talk around the pacifier still in her mouth. With a sinking feeling as she remembered the last hour, she looked down at the overstretched baby shirt that only half covered her once again pert, teen breasts, the diaper ready to pop around restored hips, and the booties still covering her toes. She flushed crimson as she tried to cover up.

Catwoman struggled to a sitting position, her altered clothes disarranged over her adult body. She looked at herself in relief and mouthed a silent, “Yes!” She studied the rest of the room with narrowed eyes, waiting to see if she needed to act.

Live Wire was also an adult again, but still unconscious from her short circuit. Harley, on the other hand, was wide awake and indignant. She stood up with hands on hips, jester bells ringing.

“Hey, what …” she trailed off as she realized her hands were touching bare flesh. Like a scene in a comedy, her hands slowly moved over her body, one towards her chest, the other towards her pelvis. When they found what she feared, she clamped them tightly in a useless attempt at modesty, made a strange peeping noise, and tried to run in several directions at once, finally diving towards her pile of scattered clothing.

Ivy stumbled into the room, holding her head, not yet realizing her leotard was still hanging below her chest where it had fallen, and too groggy to care.

In fact, Batgirl realized, it seemed all of Lilandra’s age magic had been undone.

Or had it? Lilandra herself glared daggers around the room. Her bikini top had fallen once more, but this time, instead of revealing abundant, full cleavage, it showed a young girl’s chest, with only the barest nubbins of breasts. Her face was round, fresh and cute, and her hair looked finer and shorter. She stamped her foot angrily, almost losing her bikini bottom, and emphasizing the skinny legs of a girl just into puberty. The great Lilandra had apparently fallen victim to her own age magic.

“No fair, no fair, no fair!” she shouted, her voice high and a bit whiny. “I was going to win. You cheated. Cheater, cheater, ch…”

“NO, Andra!” A booming male voice resounded through the room.

A glowing form appeared between them, changing seconds later to a bearded man with graying hair, dressed in a tunic, boots and cloak.

“Daddy!” Lilandra wailed. “I…I can explain.”

“Never mind,” he said sternly. “We’ll talk when we get home.” He turned to Batgirl and bowed. “My apologies, oh warrior. I did not realize my daughter had actually managed to open a dimensional rift to visit your world. She is quite fascinated by it.”

“Our world?” Supergirl asked. She had retrieved her clothes and dressed, but forgotten about the baby bonnet on her head. She wondered why everyone smiled or giggled as they looked in her direction.

“Yes. We live in a dimension of magic, though otherwise very similar to your own. With our powers, we can observe our parallel worlds, or even cross over to them. My daughter has proved herself quite gifted it seems.” He became stern again. “Not that it will lessen her punishment for causing this trouble. Or for stealing those magic items.”

Lilandra shrank down beneath her cloak. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“I am Deux M’China, Grand Sorcerer,” he continued. “This troublemaker is my daughter, Andra.” He glared, but seemed just the slightest bit proud of his wayward child. “Allow me to make some restitution on her behalf.” He made several gestures in the air.

Batgirl suddenly found herself full size and in her usual costume, cowl, belt and all. She found viewing the room from her normal perspective disquieting at first - everything looked so…small.

Miles away, there was a crash as Courtney suddenly grew explosively out of the dollhouse where she’d lay down to sleep. Amber, Jenny and their mother had dozed off in the bed, with Patricia clutched in Jenny’s arms like a doll. They were jolted awake, and Jenny found herself clutching her full-sized mother.

“Hooray! Batgirl did it!” she laughed.

“We’re big again,” Amber shrieked, jumping up and down.

Jenny joined her in a celebratory, bouncing dance on the mattress.

Patricia grabbed some clothes to cover herself, as Courtney did the same.

“Girls!” she shouted sternly. “What have I said about jumping on the bed?”

Both girls shrank down abashed.

Patricia suddenly smiled. “If you’re gonna do it, do it right!”

She leapt onto the bed and nearly bounced the girls off. They scrambled back up and joined hands in a giddy, spring-busting romp.

Courtney smiled at their joy, then checked herself in the mirror, frowning. Did her clothes look a little loose?


Back in the greenhouse, Wire vanished from sight. Deux noticed Batgirl’s eyes widen at her disappearance.

“I returned that one to the place of confinement Andra found her. All is now restored.”

Lilandra shuffled nervously next to her father, still a child.

“Why hasn’t she changed back?” Catwoman asked, still watching their erstwhile foe suspiciously.

The sorcerer looked puzzled.

“But she has. Andra is 10 years old.” His face softened. “Little Andra we call her.”

“Little…Lil Andra. Oh, geez.”

“You mean all this time we were fighting a kid?” Supergirl asked incredulously.

Lilandra stuck her tongue out at them, then giggled and started babbling brightly.

“It was a really good fight, Daddy. And I had my own gang, and we stole loot and everything. And can I please come back and do it again? Please? I beat everybody. Sort of. I shoulda won.”

“No, Andra” He turned and bowed to Batgirl, Supergirl, and Catwoman in turn. “My daughter does not yet understand the true nature of competition and victory. I commend each of you. Very few in your dimension could hope to stand against her magical power. To triumph is even more remarkable.”

“It ain’t over yet!” a hastily dressed Harley proclaimed, suddenly rushing at him with her mallet. “I’ll save you, boss!”

He barely gestured, and Harley froze, mallet held high. An instant later, she had shrunk to two feet in height, then unfroze. She staggered, her pants falling to her ankles, then tumbled backwards from the weight of the mallet, wailing and flailing in her oversize shirt.

“Shall I send them to one of your prisons?” he asked, indicating Harley and Ivy.

“Wait!” Ivy called. “It’s not like we had a choice here. We were minding our own business when she showed up and forced us to help her.”

Lilandra nodded agreement.

Batgirl looked uncertain. There was the store break-in to consider.

“Before you decide,” Ivy added quietly, suddenly producing a cache of video tapes, computer discs, and film. She nodded at Supergirl. “Your friend knows what these are. Complete, and never transmitted. I wouldn’t let Harley online.”

“What?” Batgirl asked Supergirl curiously.

Supergirl blushed a deep red. A beam of heat vision incinerated the media.

“Never mind,” she said brusquely, then nodded at Ivy. “Thanks.”

Ivy turned back to Batgirl. “Deal?”

“Well,” Batgirl mused. “If all the ‘loot’ is returned by morning, maybe…”

“Deal,” Ivy repeated with finality.

“Shall I restore her?” Deux asked, pointing at the diminutive Harley peeking out of her collar, her shirt held tent-like to cover her body.

Before Batgirl could say anything, Ivy interrupted, looking a bit flushed.

“Can you make it so that she changes back slowly, say over a week or so?”

“Done,” he answered.

“Red!” Harley screamed.

“Payback, Harl.” Ivy leaned over the tiny clown-girl with a gleam in her eye. “Now then, who’s been a bad widdle girl?"

“I’m outta here,” Batgirl announced as Supergirl nodded vigorously behind her.

And so are we.


Epilogue

It was several days later that the package arrived for Jenny. She tore it open in front of her mother and sisters, and drew a collective gasp when she lifted the medallion out.

Two letters dropped to the floor.

“Dear Jenny,” Patricia read the first. “A souvenir from our ‘little’ adventure. There’s no magic left, but we thought you might like it to remember us by. Your friends, Batgirl and Supergirl.”

“Mom!” Courtney and Amber wailed, staring at the artifact in terror.

“Please, Mommy, can I keep it?” Jenny begged. “They said it was safe.”

“Well,” Patricia held it while reading the second letter. It was a note from Batgirl explaining what had happened, and assuring her that Deux had removed all magic from the medallion. Patricia examined the artifact. The metal was cold and lifeless.

“All right.”

“Hooray!” Jenny took it and hugged it close.

And no one noticed the slight gleam from the medallion as it touched her skin.


THE END

Copyright 1999 by Nomdreserv and Dark Oni