Tall, Dark, and Handsome

The reporter scanned the bar, searching for...she didn't know what. Her eyes passed over the crowded tables, the loaded bar, women milling about, laughing talking, touching. Off to her left, there were standing tables, small and intimate. A knot of quiet seemed to surround one woman.

She was tall, at least a head taller than Lois, and thing and strong as a marathon runner. Her skin was dark, something more than a summer tan, and her glossy black hair fell to the middle of her back in a shower of oily curls. The tight black dress had a plunging neckline that tied off in a kind of knot around her waist, the small skirt showing off her long, elegant runner's legs. Her breasts were small, and Lois followed the line of exposed skin up to a striking face.

Not classically beautiful, this woman. A face like the bust of Nefertiti, with a high, clear forehead. A generous mouth that sipped her coal-black wine elegantly, and resolved into a Mona Lisa smile. She too was scanning the crowd, turned to Lois...and across the room, for just that moment, their eyes met. Dark eyes which the reporter felt almost pulling at her.

A waitress wandered into view, broke the connection. Lois moved forward, determined. She knew who she wanted to go down on tonight.

The handsome woman waited patiently as Lois made her way. The smile said everything. She saw Lois coming, but made no gesture of refusal, no movement to escape. So either she wanted to meet her...or she was cruel, and wanted to shoot her down in person. The reporter tried to project easy confidence as she strode forward. This might be the first time she'd tried to pick up a woman, but she wasn't going to let that distract her.

"Mind if I join you?" Lois asked, when she was standing above the table.

"Please," the voice had a touch of an accent, something Mediterranean, exotic. Almost a purr.

The reporter slid into the chair opposite. A waitress appeared. Wine and cheese were ordered. Enough for two.

"Lois," she gave her name, extending a hand. The woman took it, turned it over, and brought it up to her lips. The reporter's heart leaped. Tall, dark, and handsome lowered the hand, but gave no indication of wanting to let it go.

"Angelica," she answered. "I'm very glad to meet you."

The woman's thumb ran over the reporter's knuckles, a little gesture of casual intimacy that was making Lois Lane's palm sweat.

"Likewise," Lois said, and realized she had to say something, anything else.