Let Room Service In & Improvise

"Just a moment!"

Swiftly, Lois Lane grabbed the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself. She left the unmasked Batgirl passed out on the mattress, and hurried to the door. Holding the sheet around her in one hand, the reporter unlocked the door and opened it with the other.

The woman from the front, the one dressed up as a palm-reader, was in the hall. There was concern in those eyes, beneath the layers of paint.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, offering Lois a smile. "But has there been a...problem?"

"Yes, actually," Lois said and opened the door wider to show the **** redhead sprawled on the bed. "I'm afraid I've broken this one. I don't suppose I could get another?"

The madam frowned and took a step inside the door...which is when Lois dropped the sheet. The woman stared at the reporter, shocked at this, and shocked too when Lois grabbed her arm and hauled her inside of the room. Pushing the woman against the entranceway, Lois swiftly pinioned her arm behind the madam's back, shut the door, and hauled her over to the bed.

Her prisoner didn't yell, but tried a kick as Lois bent her over the bed. Lois's response was to pull the wrist up, and the woman almost screamed as her arm was nearly torn out of its socket. The reporter pressed the madam's head into the bed, fingers searching below the hair line...

"No microchip," Lois said. "That means you know what's going on here. Which means you're going to tell me."

"Fuck off, bitch!" The woman's right arm shot out, clawing toward the phone on the bedside table. Lois grabbed it...and **** the wrist down. There was a drawer on that cabinet, and the reporter was strong enough to **** the woman's hand down until her fingers were along the edge.

"I slam this drawer," Lois said, bracing a foot against it. "And I'll break your fingers. Granted, it might take a couple of tries."

"Don't," there was an edge of fear in the woman's voice.

"Tell me what's going on. Who's running it?"

"I...I can't. He'll kill me!"

Lois grinned harshly. "If you don't tell me, so will I. Eventually. I imagine people in this brothel are used to women screaming, aren't they?"

The woman tried to turn and look Lois in the face. Her left eye was wide, with the wild look of a trapped animal."

"You wouldn't," she huffed. "You're not the type."

Lois Lane's grin widened. After the night she'd had...

"Are you sure about that?"