Summary: Barbara and Linda go camping.
Date Of Completion: April 6, 2009
Date Of Posting: April 20, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 702
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for milleniumrex for the Food Fic Prompt Request. Pairing: Linda/Barbara. Prompt: S’mores. :)
This series is set in the 1960s and can be found here.
Barbara held the stick out over the campfire, the gooey marshmallow melting as her hand held steady.
Stars twinkled in the night sky, a slight breeze blowing through the trees.
The forest was lush and peaceful, the sounds of chirping insects and rustling animals the only hints of habitation. Far off in the distance were the twinkling lights of Metropolis.
She had listened to her transistor radio earlier in the day, the strains of “If you come to San Francisco…be sure to put flowers in your hair…” floating out from the small instrument, but she had shut it off as the sun set, content to listen to Nature’s song instead.
She was having her own Summer of Love here.
Barbara flexed her left hand, encased in its yellow glove. Her matching cape kept her warm, draped over her body.
Capes were very handy things to have.
She continued toasting her marshmallow, watching as the edges grew charred. Just right. She removed the stick and took a bite.
One of the stars began moving. A flight from Metropolis Airport? Incoming from Gotham?
She kept watch, the star growing until it took the form of a beautiful woman.
Linda descended from the sky like an angel on high, her red cape with the yellow ‘S’ symbol and blond hair fluttering upward.
Oh, Dick would say I’m getting poetic in my old age.
But Linda was worth it.
“Beautiful night, Batgirl.”
Linda sat next to her lover, her cape settling over her.
“Mmm.” Barbara bent down and fished in her bag. “I’ve got something else here.” She held out a box of Graham crackers. “Open that, please.” When Linda complied, Barbara took out two crackers, bent down again to rummage through her bag, and took out a Hersey chocolate bar. She placed the bar on the Graham cracker and put the toasted marshmallow on top, the heat melting the chocolate as she pressed the other cracker down on top of the gooey mess.
“What is that?”
“Didn’t you ever camp out before?” Barbara teased.
“We did on Argo City, but we ate different things.”
“Oh, gooey cakes and seed muffins and frosted dreamcakes.”
Barbara laughed. “Well, these are S’mores, and they’re delicious.” She handed the treat to her companion.
Linda took a bite and her eyes sparkled. “Delicious is right!” She devoured the S’more, and Barbara handed her a stick, jabbing a marshmallow onto it while moving her bag between them.
They sat in companionable silence as their marshmallows toasted over the campfire, the crackle and pop of the fire punctuating the quiet.
Linda took the stick away from the fire, retrieved Graham crackers and a Hersey bar, and made her own S’more.
“This is really good!”
Barbara smiled and ate her S’more, enjoying the rich flavors. “The S’more engages the taste buds.” Her voice took on a reminiscent tone. “I was a Girl Scout. I started as a Brownie and went through all the stages. I earned a lot of merit badges. I still have them stored away with my uniforms.”
“Camping out one of the badges?”
Barbara nodded. “Yes.” She took another bite. “It’s great to be out under the stars, telling ghost stories and singing songs.”
“That sounds like the Girl Explorers on Argo City.”
“See? You’ve been camping.”
“Mmm, under the stars through the dome.” Linda sighed. “But we were lucky to have it after Krypton blew up.”
Barbara squeezed Linda’s knee, then handed her more S’mores fixings.
They lapsed back into silence, a breeze blowing through their hair.
“What about Girl Scout cookies?” Linda asked.
“Do you have any Girl Scout cookies in that magic bag?”
Barbara grinned. She leaned down and rummaged in the bag, straightening up with a handful of cookies.
“You know the Girl Scout motto: always be prepared!”
Linda laughed and took the cookies.
The fire crackled, shining a golden glow over the two bodies entwined beneath the stars, red and blond hair tumbling together as breasts and groins touched, hands cupping firm buttocks and digging into muscled thighs, moans and cries piercing the night air.
It’s S’more fun under the stars.
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