Sue Storm Catches Other Dancers Smoking Weed

An hour in the cage was a workout that left Sue Storm dripping with sweat and grateful for the cold Gatorade available back in the dressing room. They rotated the girls out on half-hour breaks, to stretch and relax before going back out there. It was solid work to put in a shift as a dancer...but it wasn't all bad.

Three other dancers were resting with Sue. Hydrating, icing down sore muscles, chatting about school, family, what women they were dating—Sue was the oldest one there and had to fight to keep from slipping into mother-mode.

Until one of them took out a vape pen marked with a stylized cannabis leaf and took a toke.

The Invisible Woman's spine stiffened. As a heroine, she had been around a certain amount of drugs, but she had never been in such proximity to such casual use—she could actually smell it on the dancer's breath as she coughed.

Her name was Jezzail. Which Sue dearly hoped was a stage name. Six feet of weedy, thin young woman. Puberty hadn't given her much in the way of boobs or butt, but she had legs for days and as much shame about showing her body as a basset hound. Her accent was the purest Brooklynese that Sue had heard in years.

"Oh jeez, where are my manners?" Jezzail said. "You want a hit?"

She offered the vape pen with the cannabis cartridge to Sue Storm. The heroine kept a carefully neutral poker face.

"Oh, I really couldn't—I don't do illegal drugs—"

The three young dancers burst out laughing.

"Where have you been? THC is legal in New Y'awk. Been legal for years," Jezzail said.

"We all do it," Rosa Rosini said. The woman's hair was pink, and she tended to plumpness, so that the stripes of her clear heels dug into her ankles, holding on for dear life—but even Sue found the jiggle of her breasts and buttocks slightly hypnotic. "It helps us relax, dance longer, faster. You really should try it."

"Just once won't hurt," Amy Dotcom said. Sue wasn't sure if she had changed her name herself or if her parents had been involved in tech back in the day, but she'd seen the woman's ID. It was her real name. Where Rose was plush and Jezzie was thin, Amy was fit; big biceps, thick thighs. She pulled out a brand new vape pen and fitted a fresh cartridge.

"Here. Unused. No cooties," Amy said, and gave a gap-toothed smile. "Joooiiinnn uuuusss..."

The other young ladies joined in the chant, and Sue Storm felt a momentary quiver of peer pressure.

Which is when Moonstone sent a gravimetric pulse through the Invisible Woman's brain.