There weren't many things that could distract Starbuck from a rousing game of pyramid. Especially when it involved a rematch on those two hustling Gemenons that had so royally cheated him…
This woman, however, was not just anything. A tiny thing, probably just to his shoulder, in nothing but a pair of torn stockings in an interesting, mesh pattern and a hardened black bustier. The boots she was wearing looked serious enough for any Raptor pilot, and those gloves were well worn around the knuckles.
In short, he knew he was looking at a scrapper, and the way she leaned into Boomer's arm suggested she drank life down as wickedly as he did.
That, he decided, was more than enough to give up a game for as he folded. Much more interesting pursuits awaited.
"If I had a body…"
"If you had a brain, maybe." The blonde fighter continued to inspect the elaborate room, with walls that seemed to be made of solid jade. "If you're so immaterial, why the hell aren't you out of this box?"
"Jade. Apparently in this bollixed universe, a ghost is trapped by it." The spirit gave her another look over. "No lock pick in that bat-belt of yours?"
"Not a bat…whoa, what do you mean calling it a bat-belt?"
"That's what it's called?" he said snidely. "Same thing a para carries."
She blinked, looking confused. "Maybe in your world." She then took a long breath in and started humming…cause a strange vibration to build in their prison. When the hum gave way to a full sonic Cry, Spike winced…but their prison shattered around them.
"Bloody…" He got a good look at the creatures surrounding them, and decided maybe he shouldn't say the name of that particular abode.
"Frying pan to fire," she said in turn.
The woman thrown into the cage next caught Wolverine's attention fully. He could see the marks on the men that had thrown her in, saw that she had fought viciously to avoid this. She was unwilling, someone they must have caught snooping around.
That meant she was either a cop or a hero, and cops didn't usually come that short or that curvy.
He had wanted to wait until he knew more about this fight club, but he didn't like the looks of her against that behemoth who was the current champion. He would have to do something.
As he moved, the bell rang…and then Wolverine was clutching at his ears, protecting them from the near-ultrasonic sound that issued from the woman's mouth. It was worse than Banshee and Siryn put together as he staggered through the pain-wracked crowd.
By the time he got to the cage, the behemoth was down, and the cage itself had rattled loose. She was exiting swiftly, eyes darting around and taking him in as a threat.
"Easy, kid," he managed, his ears popping.
"I'm no kid," she snapped. "Either get out of my way, or you go down." The lines of her body told him she wasn't playing, and he stepped to one side, waving her past.
"Although," he drawled. "I wouldn't mind a piece of the action."
She gave him another look, and the sauciest grin he had seen this side of a pleased Rogue graced her face.
"I wouldn't touch that, if I were you," the woman standing very still in the room said.
"Why not?" The blonde was careful to pretend she had seen the other there the whole time.
"You'll wind up like me. Stuck."
Dinah turned to fully view the woman, letting her goggles relay the sight and energy flow. Her partner considered it a long moment, and had her sweep the item she had sent Dinah for. In short order, Dinah had it disabled and the woman released, a smile on her lips.
"Told you I don't make everything explode," Dinah said. There was a pause, and then the blonde pouted. "That's not fair!"
The former prisoner raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, but if you don't need that…" She moved toward a different item in the room of discarded Ancient equipment.
"My partner said you really shouldn't take that," Dinah said, before shoving her goggles off and sticking her hand out. "Black Canary."
"Vala, and my team said they need it."
"Only if they are trying to rig a … tell that to me in ENGLISH, O!" She paused again. "An anitmatter converter for sustaining a wormhole large enough for transuniversal teleportation."
Vala blinked and looked at the blonde one more time. "Your partner understands that?"
"Yeah, she's a genius."
"So's mine. Pain in the arse?"
She had heard smoother lines from more experienced men. In fact, if she tried hard enough, she could probably remember the exact same lines from Oliver, back when she'd been really young and even stupider.
It didn't change the effect the man's charm had on her.
Or his accent…definitely the accent that got to her.
Of course, none of that mattered, when she woke up later and found the data drive missing.
As skillful as he had been in bed, Gambit had better be ten times as good in a fight when she caught up, or he was going to be dead.
"You might want to run."
Dinah wanted to tell the man in his dashing uniform and bomber jacket that she did not take such things seriously in her own city…normally she went into the things that most ran from.
Then her eye placed the uniform as being the one worn by the Americans who assisted the Brits in the London Bombings, back in World War Two, prior to official American entry.
"You're not from around here," she said with a note of amusement. It made the man pause in his own escape, look her over, and give a very bright smile.
"I could be, if it improves my chances of getting your name and number," he purred at her, radiating sex appeal like it was a tawdry cologne. She laughed, before heading back toward what he was fleeing.
"Believe me, Captain, you don't want to try that on me again."
He looked, thought about letting the crazy but stunning blonde tackle the Sea Devils all on her own…and turned to follow her into the fray. All, he told himself, to get her name.
"I hate magic."
"For someone whose genes seemed steeped in magic manipulation, that seems extreme."
The blonde viewed the man with his outlandish costume //even Alan's collar was never that bad// and the two white streaks that reminded her so much of Hal with a peevish twitch of her nose.
"Mom ran with strange men. It mutated me, okay?"
"No need to be defensive, young miss."
"Not so young!" She was getting tired of running into men here who took her for the twenty something she looked; she was ready to be home where her hard years were better known.
"You're not having a good day."
"Gee, Doc, what was your first guess? That I DON'T FIT here?" She reined in her temper, turning a charming smile his way. "Sorry, Mister…"
"Actually, Doc worked. Doctor Strange, at your service."
"You remind me of Jason." Dinah's mouth quirked up. "You're not hiding a demon inside you?"
"Not the last I checked. Why don't you get comfortable, and we'll get to the bottom of this."
"Sounds good, Doc."
The green glowing mask avatar had been bad enough. Mirage knew she was made, and had to get away, quickly. Any hacker able to trace her would be able to find the physical location of her masked IP address.
She had never considered the hacker would be using a pair of legs to be on top of her the moment she revealed herself.
Or that the hacker's legs would be quite so…legendary. One of the True Heroes. The ones that had made the government back down and refused to hide who they were.
"Mirage… my partner'd like a word with you," she answered saucily.
Murderous dryad. Check. Experienced Hunter. Check. Psychotic biochemist trying to protect dryad. Check. One Hunter totally out of his league and pretty well fucked… check.
The dryad was just out of sight, rustling in the leaves of this gigantically non-family-friendly park in the middle of Gotham. Dean was really, truly wishing he had neither refused to call Dick and Tim nor separated from his brother.
His arms were jerked up and out by the lower limbs of the weeping willow, freaky enough. That creeping vines had grabbed his ankles and spread his legs wide was enough to make him open his mouth to shout, drawing in a deep breath…
Just as the psychotic, naked green bitch with red hair blew something in his face. He coughed and gagged a moment, all thoughts of calling out to his brother vanishing. When he looked at the beauty again, when she reached out and ran just the tips of her nails down his chest, he jerked against his bindings to try and fall to her feet, wanting only to please her, to worship her as she was meant to be.
The beauty laughed softly, as vines ripped at his shirt, opening it, while her hands undid his pants, never quite touching his skin.
Dean was vaguely aware when the redhead suddenly turned, looking in fear over her shoulder toward a distant commotion. He knew his beauty, the woman he wanted and ached for was afraid, but why would she just leave him there? Why did he have to hang there in the air, supported by her pets, unfulfilled?
He did not worry for it too long, as a smaller woman, blonde and just as beautiful, came into his view. He moaned at seeing the way those fishnets adorned her legs, enjoyed the swell of her breasts barely held in place by the bustier she wore.
"Oh…shit." The woman came over, stripping a glove off, and placed two fingers along his neck, touched his forehead. He nuzzled into each touch, feeling his chest growing tighter with every passing moment, needing this beautiful woman so intensely. "O…pollen vic… temperature is already severely elevated, pulse erratic and pushing upper limits."
Dean could not fully understand the words, but he did not think she should ever frown that way. He wanted to be free, wanted to peel those fishnets down and fall into her blue, blue eyes while he…
Her hand wrapping around his hard cock made him arch and cry out. "Kid, I don't know what you did, but you don't need to die for Ivy's twisted games. Just a little relief, and one of the Bats will be here with the antitoxin." Dean moaned and twisted and bucked his hips into her hand, slick with his pre-ejaculate already.
She closed her eyes against the necessity, before using every trick she had ever learned to bring the kid off, and get his pulse down, at least temporarily. One of these days, she was going to find a way to make Ivy deal with her own creation and see how she liked being forced into this mating need. When the kid arched one last time, body seizing up with release, she hoped it had been enough to keep him alive until help arrived.
She looked up into his face, and saw the madness of lust still in his eyes; there was no way she was cutting him down, not when memories of a bat and a very new encounter with pollen were there as memories to guide her.
"Help's coming," she said softly, soothingly, and almost wished she had kept her mouth shut as his erection surged back to life, and he began twitching. Luckily, she heard the others coming.
Sam, Tim, and Dick all kept staring at him.
"You don't remember?" Dick finally asked.
"Not a thing."
Tim shook his head. "Probably lucky for you."
Sam looked incredulously at the two Bat Boys. "How's that?"
Dick and Tim shrugged in unison. "What you can't remember, you can't brag about. And believe me, you don't want to brag about her. She'll kick your ass, and then half a dozen guys will," Dick said.
Dean just wished, now, that he could remember, and made plans to see this Black Canary for himself.