The Barmaid Gives Lois A Tip

"Sorry, I don't want to get too drunk—" Lois said...but as the barmaid took the reporter's glass, the woman looked Lois in the eye.

"I saw you crash and burn pretty hard. What if I told you there was a sure thing close at hand?"

Lois Lane blinked. She licked her lips, not sure what the woman meant. Her eyes traced the barmaid up and down. Hair dyed pink. Hazel eyes. A net mesh shirt that showed off the small metal barbels piercing her pink nipples. Lois put her age at something like twenty or twenty-two...younger than herself, but the eyes looked older, harder.

"Are you offering, or...?" Lois said, leaning in so that she could hear the barmaid over the crowd.

"No. But there's a...service...available. Off the books. Cash for pussy. No fuss. Interested?" the barmaid said.

Lois had to **** herself to pause, to look like the kind of horny, wary punter that had to be sold on the service being offered—but this seemed exactly what she had been looking for.

"If I am," the reporter said. "Do I get a choice? I might be a little choosy if I'm paying for it."

Painted lips peeled back, revealing nicotine-stained teeth.

"Yeah, you'll get a choice. Whole menu to pick from. Now, here's what you do..."

Security Room

Cheetah's whiskers flicked as she licked the blood from her claws. Slit pupils were focused on the monitor where Lois was conferring with a barmaid. Something passed between them...a card, a note...and the reporter stepped away from the bar and headed to a place where, the feline villain noted, there were no cameras.

"Clever girl. The game's afoot, eh?" The villain left to follow where Lois Lane was headed.