Selina Bodage vs Lois

"I can't believe I'm doing this," the driver said. "I can not believe I'm doing this!" she repeated, slamming her well-manicured hand onto the steering wheel.

Exceedingly rare violet eyes scanned up to the rear-view mirror. "You're Lois god damn Lane, you can't be doing this," Lois Lane told herself. "You're a star reporter," said the star reporter. "You're a multiple Pulitzer Prize winning journalist," said the multiple Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. "You're a self-possessed woman at the top of her field and you are 100% in charge of your own life! If Wonder Woman didn't exist, you'd likely be the ideal woman. So why are you doing this?" she asked herself. "You know what? You're not doing this."

On a road that was now closer to Gotham City than Metropolis, Lois Lane trashed her original plan and began to look for an exit ramp to take her back. As her sharp, alluring, eyes darted around, she felt it again. That itch. That persistent, metaphorical (an important distinction), itch between her legs that had been plaguing her for months. It was the reason she was on her way to Gotham in the first place, and as soon as she thought of ignoring it again, it intensified.

"Ugh! Fine!" Lois said to her libido. "Can't believe I'm having my strings pulled by my god damn vagina."

It would be another hour before Lois reached Gotham, found the selected hotel, got up to the roof, and waited at the meeting spot for 30 minutes past the agreed-upon meeting time. "I'm freezing my tits off up here," Lois said, hugging her arms to her chest. She had worn her usual professional attire of a low-cut white blouse, covered by a buttoned up purple blazer, and a white pleated skirt that reached only halfway to her knees. She used to enjoy a form fitting pencil skirt, but her frantic life often led to it tearing during both pursuit and escape alike. Lois was not at all dressed for the weather, because she assumed it would be a quick chat, despite the gravity. She also assumed she would be on time.

"You know what? This is a sign," Lois reasoned. "This was a stupid idea and I'm going home." But when she turned away from the Gotham skyline and to the exit, she was there. Perched on top of the roof access door. Squatting with arms aimed straight down so her clawed gloves could grip the edge. Her black suit almost disappeared entirely against the black, starless, Gotham sky. Lois was only able to spot her by the few scant strips of color she allowed. The red of her goggles and the white of her jaw. Most notable was the plunging cut into her suit that displayed her deep, creamy, cleavage.

"Going home so soon?" Catwoman purred.

"You're late," Lois sneered.

"You're grumpy," Catwoman mocked.

"No, I'm going home," Lois corrected and reiterated, acting as the signal to her exit. As Catwoman was sitting above it, it was all too easy for her to slip down and stand between Lois and her trepidations. Annoyed, Lois stood defiantly, arms at her sides and fists clenched, trying to will Catwoman out of the way.

"You came all this way and you're just going to leave because you're a little chilly?" Catwoman clicked her tongue. "No, no I don't think you are." The sleek cat burglar started her approach. Lois, remaining defiant, stood completely still, refusing to feed a villain's need to banter. "I think you want to stay. With me." A steel claw scratched at Lois's lapel, flipping it flippantly. Catwoman looked her up and down as she circled. Standing behind Lois, the busty burglar pressed her bust against her back while leaning her black-lipstick lips over to Lois's ear, after her long black hair was pulled back like a curtain. "I see you shiver, with antici..." One exceedingly long pause later. "...pation."

"Rocky Horror?" Lois groaned, looking over her shoulder at her Cheshire grin. "Okay, now I'm really out of here." Purple heels clicked on the roof top only a few moments before Catwoman grabbed Lois's arm.

"Okay, okay," Catwoman said as she chuckled. "I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I forgot you Metroplinites don't have the same dash of madness in your daily diet as Gothamites have."

Lois spun around and yanked her arm free so she could cross it with the other over her chest. "It's Metropolitans," she corrected.

Catwoman's smirk rose higher. She'll be fun, she thought. "Pleasantries aside, why don't you tell me why you've summoned me?" Catwoman asked, crossing her arms like Lois, in some half mockery, though she kept her arms under her exceeding bust just to get a reaction. Lois wasn't that easy to crack, however.

"I came to ask you a question," she plainly put.

"Seems like you could have saved yourself the trip and some frozen tits if you'd just texted me."

"It's not the sort of conversation you have over the phone," Lois reasoned.

"Curious," Catwoman purred. "So, what is it?"

"It's..." Lois paused, her eyes darting to the floor as she tried to find the words necessary that wouldn't necessarily embarrass her. She couldn't do it. Libido be damned. "It's nothing. It's a bad idea and a waste of time. I'm sorry for wasting yours and mine. Goodbye." Before she could finish a full turn, Catwoman called out.