Dr. Stone Wants To Make Sue Storm A Party Girl

"I'd like to try something different," Dr. Stone said, her eyes aglow. "Meet me tonight at 8PM. Where civilian clothes, something appropriate for a night out. We're going clubbing."

The heroine didn't frown. Her head nodded, blue eyes distant. Karla smiled, her implants buzzing. She hadn't dared to use her powers this openly and fragrantly before, but her gravimetric pulse made Sue so easy to manipulate that she felt confident this could work.

"Clubbing?" Sue asked.

"Yes. Think of it as therapy," Karla said.

"Therapy," Sue repeated, as the suggestion sank in.

"Socialization, dancing, moderate alcohol intake," Karla said, her voice smooth and professional. "It'll be good for you."

"Good for me," Sue blinked slowly. "Yes."

THE MEAT RACK was not far from Dr. Stone's office. Not exactly high class, but it was free of underworld ties and papparazzi, neither of which complications Karla needed at the moment. The villain had shed her professional attire for white cowboy boots, a scandalously short white fringe skirt, a white corset bra, and a white stetson. Her yellow hair tied back in a pony tail.

"Yee haw," Sue Storm said when she saw her psychiatrist. Moonstone grinned lips painted white and outlined with gold pencil.

The Invisible Woman had chosen a more demure outfit. A single blue-and-black dress that hung off one shoulder, the strapless bra carefully concealed, with two-inch blue pumps. Her golden hair was up in a bun, held with two blue chopsticks.

The doorman didn't card them, or make them wait in line. They slid into a bar whose theme, as much as it had one, was to look like it had been a punk bar from the 1970s. Yet to heroine and villain, the graffiti was clearly copied from other placed, and many of the affections of broken picture frames and the like were clear replicas. Two mirror-balls splashed color all over the walls.

The clientele was male and mostly on the younger side. College-aged men, in nice clean clothing that showed many had rich mommys and daddies and thought they were slumming.

"Now what do we do?" Sue said. She stood stiff. Nervous. Warily looking around her, even as the men

Karla gestured to the bartender, who brought out a small bottle of top-shelf vodka, salt, limes, and a pair of glasses.

"First," Karla said, and her eyes glowed softly. "We have a drink. Loosen up. Then..."