I Can't Believe That Guy Slipped Something Into Your Drink!

Lois Lane blinked. She usually did order a drink while at a club, and watched it carefully...but if she had been roofied, that might explain why she was missing time. Hell, that could explain the note to herself, reminding her not to give in to some date-****'s wiles.

But that still left the question of who this Angelica was and what she was doing here.

"I heard you asking about those women," the tall dark-haired woman said. She leaned in toward the door. "I think I might be able to help."

"How..." Lois hesitated. Too many questions came to mind. One seemed to be of the greatest importance. "How did you find where I live?"

That Mona Lisa smile flickered across Angelica's face. She held up a familiar-looking wallet.

"You dropped this on your way out."

Curiosity and caution warred within the reporter for half a moment—then the reporter opened the door.

"Thank you," she said. "Won't you please come in?"

Angelica slid inside like a cat.

Deep in her gut, Lois had a sinking feeling. Like she had made a mistake. Yet as she closed, locked, and chained the door, she couldn't say why.

"Sorry I'm not...altogether," Lois said, holding the robe a little tighter across her chest so as not to flash her guest.

"I don't mind," Angelica said with that damn smile once again. "It's just us girls, right?"