Checking in with Miss Graves--with clothes on!

Miss Graves stopped by Brandon’s apartment a few days later, and thankfully she did not kill him. She refused to look him in the eye, and she kept her arms folded with a **** grip on her sleeves, and she opted to have an entire conversation with him through his apartment doorway while she stood in the hall. He only somewhat understood her **** to meet him face-to-face. If they were alone together, he might use the amulet to have sex with her again, forcing her to strip and masturbate and lay herself bare for any number of degrading acts on the way to taking another shot or two at making her a mother. But he could do that no matter where she was, and in fact last week he’d followed her to her car and let her ride him in the driver’s seat. **** her in the hallway was possible, as was donning the amulet and pushing her into his apartment so she’d think it was her idea. A little distance wouldn’t deter him if he really wanted her, and they both knew it. For her sake he decided to leave her be; he didn’t know how long they’d be working together, and he didn’t want her to think every meeting with him would end in a creampie. Only some of them.

As expected, the topic she wanted to discuss was the same every news channel did: the reappearance of a second amulet, which had turned an Italian women’s club into an hours-long lesbian orgy that others only noticed when it finally spilled out onto the street. Via Miss Graves, Luthor expressed his concern that Brandon was embarrassing the Justice League generally, by showing off other amulets and “proving” Luthor wasn’t involved in their distribution, but not specifically bringing the heroines themselves low in the court of public opinion. That is, he was effective, but not effective enough, and he had to step up his game or face consequences.

Miss Graves’s smug expression faltered when Brandon informed her that the League had been involved, and that both the Revson porn shoot and the orgy in Riccione had occurred because he’d followed a heroine (or two) and had his way with her. Further, he showed her the other ideas he had on his schedule (through a door open the slightest amount), and her slumped shoulders admitted defeat. The first two amulets had been warmups to put the world on guard. The next step was to put the League in the crosshairs, and once he felt Miss Graves’s begrudging, silent acknowledgment, he knew his plan was perfect.

She didn’t say a word about the women he had chosen for the other three amulets, and if she had he probably would have ignored it anyway. He’d had a few options, but he’d chosen these three events specifically because of who they involved: one heroine he regarded as a missed opportunity, one against whom he wanted **** for a slight she didn’t realize she’d committed, and one who fit into both categories. Miss Graves scowled at the piece of paper and handed it back, still staring at the wall next to him. “These will work. Just don’t screw any of them up. Or do, but—whatever.”

“I won’t,” he assured her through a wide grin. “I’m excited to know you approve. I’m excited about the whole thing, really. Is this what being a supervillain feels like?”

The corner of her lips twitched in a one-frame smile. “I wouldn’t know.”