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The Horror of Girls' Night

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"I wouldn't say that Bruce is *fun* in bed, exactly. But he's very... focused. And goal-oriented. He never, ever leaves a girl hanging-- unless, of course, that damn signal goes off," Selina added, frowning.

"I really don't need to know any of this," Tim protested, fairly sure that his face was bright red. "Really."

"Oh, c'mon, I never get a chance to have girl talk. Huntress would as soon shoot me as talk to me. And Batgirl... isn't really much for talking."

"But I'm not a girl!" Tim crossed his arms defensively over his chest-- breasts-- *arrgh*. This kind of stuff probably never happened to Kon. Of course, Kon would think being turned into a girl temporarily was *great*-- he could feel *himself* up. Tim winced, trying not to think about that too much.

Selina quirked an eyebrow at him. "You are now."

"It's *temporary*." Zatanna, between fits of giggles, had assured him that the effects of the spell should wear off at midnight. Tim looked at the clock and sighed. It was ten till eight, and Selina had just pulled out a pint of chocolate ice-cream, a stack of chick movies, and what looked like a purple tackle box. Tim eyed the box warily. He was fairly sure, somehow, that Selina wasn't a big fan of fishing.

"Take off your boots."

"Why?" Tim asked suspiciously.

"I'm going to give you a pedicure."

"I don't *want* a pedicure."

"It's either a pedicure or a make-over, buddy. You're getting the full Girls' Night experience... minus the male strippers and tequila shots, of course, because Bruce would *kill* me." Selina popped open the top of the tackle box and pulled out a tray of little mysterious bottles. "Now take the boots *off*, or we start figuring out whether you're an Autumn or a Winter."

"Whether I'm a *what*?"

Selina shook a fluffy, pink... *thing* at him menacingly. "Stop stalling. Now, do you want purple or the traditional fire-engine red?"

"Fire-engine red what?" Tim asked, pulling his boots off.

"Nail polish." Selina pulled a few brightly-colored bottles out of the tackle box. "It's a Girls' Night tradition, grasshopper. Just lie back and think of... justice, or something."

As Selina exclaimed in horror over the state of his cuticles, Tim sighed and looked at the clock again. Five till eight.

"Now, Ollie is *really* fun in bed. There was this time in Las Vegas--"

Oh, god. This was going to be a *long* evening.