A Queen Among Heroes

[ Artificial Lake, Abandoned Amusement Park, Gotham city ]

Killer Croc charged toward the shore, fury etched into every scaly feature. His target was Robin—completely ignoring Barbara, who seemed to be fiddling with her belt but was, in fact, drawing a hidden whip.

It's not that hard to understand, really. When a single, lonely soul sees a couple displaying affection right in front of him, instinct drives him to lash out at the male. It's not like he's going to reason that their relationship dynamic is flawed and attack the woman just to "liberate" the man. That's not how bitter singlehood works. Most single souls are men anyway. Statistically speaking. Probably. Unless they aren't. Data is limited.

Of course, we can't say there's zero probability of a different outcome. Some folks prefer men. Some don't prefer anyone at all. The world is diverse, and true love takes many forms—and we should support them all. Like when you see a sleazy man slap a gorgeous woman on the street and run off hand-in-hand with her handsome boyfriend, maybe don't dial 911 just yet. Maybe—just maybe—it's destiny. Just whisper, "Blessings," and move on.

Robin, meanwhile, saw Killer Croc making a beeline for him and... he was actually relieved. Not because he felt romantically victorious—no, this wasn't a Nicholas Sparks moment. It was because he didn't want Barbara to be within breathing range of that water-logged lizard. Killer Croc smelled like a fish market in a heatwave. Better he take the hit.

Come at me, bro. That was Robin's genuine inner monologue.

His throat still burned from all the yelling, but they had succeeded in luring Killer Croc out. There was no way he'd let the beast retreat now. With a glance and a hand signal, he told Barbara to cut off the escape path while he shifted the fight closer to the muddy bank.

"Felicity, are they here yet?" Barbara asked tensely, eyes fixed on her boyfriend struggling in the fight. Robin's strength had visibly waned. He'd spent half an hour under the sun screaming insults without a single break. Meanwhile, Killer Croc, well-rested and energized after gulping down two unlucky fish, was back to full strength, moving with the confidence of a predator on home turf.

The gap between them was widening. While Croc's monstrous power surged, Robin was running on fumes. His dodges were slower, his counters lacked force—they were just enough to keep himself from getting crushed.

"Ah, we're here..." Thea's voice drifted in through the comms, calm and casual. "If we all rush out now, it might spook him. Let's wait for the perfect moment." In truth, she and Selina had arrived minutes ago, but Thea had been so impressed by the couple's tag-team verbal assault that she'd chosen to stay hidden, observing from the shadows.

She was waiting for one shot—one clear weakness. Her skateboard was primed, her bowstring tight, a freezing arrow nocked. The moment Killer Croc slipped, she'd teach the brute firsthand how science made monsters—and how science took them down.

Selina, on the other hand, wasn't the least bit stressed. Crouched in the shrubbery, she watched with feline amusement, her expression somewhere between entertained and smug. Her days as a villain were behind her—mostly—and she had no doubt that if she made a move, Croc wouldn't stand a chance. But she didn't mind letting the drama unfold a bit longer.

Barbara, however, couldn't stay idle. Watching Robin struggle lit a fire in her chest. With a sharp flick of her hand, she unfurled her belt—revealing the whip hidden within—and leapt into the fight, determined to shift the tide.

Thea took a moment to assess her technique. Coordination mattered—they'd likely need to fight together soon. And to Thea's relief, Barbara didn't disappoint. Her movements, while unconventional, had a fierce elegance. It was clear she'd trained with the whip extensively. Combining agility with precision, she struck with surprising effectiveness. Against an ordinary opponent—or even a mindless brute—it might have ended the battle by now. The whip snapped like thunder, and every strike carved through the air with practiced confidence.

However, Thea quickly noted the flaws in Barbara's fighting style. Against a slightly more formidable enemy, that technique would fall apart. If this was truly the extent of Barbara's skill, Thea was confident she could defeat her barehanded—and with a high success rate at that.

Among their current ensemble, Catwoman remained the strongest. Years of walking the razor's edge between light and dark on Gotham's streets had forged her into a natural combatant. Unlike Thea, she'd never trained in any structured setting; her abilities were carved into her muscles through experience alone.

Robin, by contrast, was competent but physically underwhelming. Batman had pinned too many expectations on him, passing down all his elite techniques. But Robin's wiry frame made many of those moves difficult to execute. Aware of this limitation, he'd adapted—focusing on speed and dexterity. It made his style nimble but unorthodox, almost eccentric in appearance.

As for Barbara, she was clearly in the follower tier of heroes. Without a significant overhaul in strategy or training, she had likely already hit her ceiling. This might be the best she would ever get.

Thea was still mulling this over when Felicity's voice crackled through the comms again. "Don't just beat him—keep scolding him! Psychological warfare, people! What if he runs away? We need full emotional damage. Now then… where was I? Oh right—Crocodile Cuisine 101…"

Robin cast a side glance at Barbara, panting slightly, his staff raised defensively.

"We're really doing this again?" he muttered. But in each other's eyes, they saw it: that flicker of enthusiasm. Why not? Felicity read, they repeated—it had become a smooth system. No thinking required. And it didn't interfere with their attacks either.

Robin looked at the Croc and thought. You disgusting smelly creature! You bring material pollution into our lives, so here—take some spiritual pollution too! Let's suffer together!

At this point, Killer Croc was already considering a tactical retreat. He didn't have Spider-Man's danger sense, but his primal instincts had grown sharper with his mutation. Something in him whispered danger, even though he could only see two enemies before him.

He was just about to slip away and go back to chewing fish when he heard the couple again—more unified than ever in their vulgar harmony.

"You scaly dumpster fire!"

"Walking handbag!"

"Who let you out of the sewer zoo?"

"You stink like expired seafood!"

"You walking biohazard!"

With a perfectly choreographed turn, Robin and Barbara launched back into the taunts, voices overlapping.

And just like that, Killer Croc's fury that had been simmering beneath his thick hide surged back to the surface.

Killer Croc could hardly believe it. They're still at it?

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" he snarled.

Did these people not understand the basic principle of leaving their opponent a shred of dignity? With his limited vocabulary already stretched thin, he still opened his mouth and tried to hurl back some insults of his own.

"You wanna trade insults? Fine! You think I want to smell like algae? This is natural musk!"

Meanwhile, Felicity continued her creative assault through the earpiece. Her voice came, smooth as silk, laced with amusement. "Fun fact—did you know crocodile leather is more durable than cowhide? Perfect for bags, boots… or maybe a nice phone case? Ooooh, a custom laptop sleeve!" 

And Robin repeated the lines to Killer Croc with amusement in his eyes.

Killer Croc roared. "I am not a damn accessories aisle!"

Felicity then moved on from jokes about crocodile-skin handbags and was now explaining—in disturbingly enthusiastic detail—how to stir-fry crocodile meat using proper scientific and nutritional techniques.

Robin and Barbara didn't need to think anymore. Their voices simply echoed whatever came through the comms, their fighting rhythm barely skipping a beat. But Killer Croc… Killer Croc was fuming. Deep down, he still clung to some semblance of humanity, but over time, that grip had loosened. Isolation and rejection had forced him to identify more and more with the crocodile within.

As Robin's cheerful mockery went into vivid detail—skinning, gutting, stewing, braising—Croc finally snapped.

Croc pointed at Robin. "I'll stew you first, you loudmouthed brat!"

Robin barely parried the incoming blow, stumbling back. "Whoa! I didn't even get to the recipe yet! Step one: de-scale thoroughly—"

Croc's punch cut him off, and Robin wheezed. "Okay, okay, you really don't like jokes about braising. Noted."

Croc fury boiled over, and although Barbara remained a blur of motion to his side, dodging every swipe like an acrobat on springs, he gave up on her entirely.

His focus narrowed to Robin.

Croc let out a frustrated roar. "I swear, one more word about stew, and I'll—"

Robin interrupted, "Step two: add ginger and garlic for aroma."

"ARGH!" Croc bellowed.

Robin braced himself. He was already drained from the prolonged engagement, found himself buckling under the sudden onslaught. He blocked what he could, but his defense was visibly faltering.

Barbara's heart clenched. Watching her boyfriend get pummeled was unbearable. She knew she lacked the raw power to stop the beast, but she could at least try to slow him down. Gritting her teeth, she cracked her whip low and fast, looping it around Killer Croc's legs in a desperate bid to buy Robin a few precious seconds to recover.

To Be Continued...

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[POWER STONES AND REVIEWS PLS]

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Got a sharp review today that said: 'This fic is like the Green Arrow—dull and stupid. But the writing quality is good.' Ouch. 😅 But hey, I'm genuinely grateful they noticed the writing's solid!They also said there's no story, just a description of events. I'm taking that feedback positively. I'll definitely work on improving the pacing, adding more meaningful conversations, and making sure there's a stronger emotional and narrative thread in future chapters.If you're curious whether it really has no story... well, come judge for yourself. 😉