Hope Taya: http://pc59te.dte.uma.es/cdb/series/dc/hope.htm

(Because I check such things obsessively...set just after Hope was introduced as Lex's
bodyguard [Adventures of Superman #573] and before he announces his bid for the presidency.)





Grace was bored.

It was a quiet night at Chaney's, which meant she was free 
to scope out the available talent and find herself 
some...entertainment. While it wasn't true that the metas 
who frequented Chaney's were automatically more 
interesting than the usual brand of bar patrons simply by 
virtue of their various powers, there *was* a better-than-
even chance that at least a few of them could withstand 
Grace's attention. Physical or otherwise.

Tonight's prospects included Dominick, a lightning bug and 
former pick-up and an assured good time, if overly 
possessive; Jamie, the short-range teleporter who she'd 
been flirting with over the past couple weeks anyway; and a 
new arrival, the woman at the bar who'd been knocking 
back shots for over an hour without any sign of stopping.

Grace had been on break when she'd come in, but even 
sitting she could see that the woman was easily 6 feet tall--
a foot shorter than herself, but still respectable--powerfully 
built, dark-skinned and dreadlocked. She approved of the 
simplicity of dress, too: jeans, low boots, and a plain black 
t-shirt outlining a truly splendiferous rack. Grace 
unconsciously licked her lips. Not much of a decision, 
really.

She sauntered over to the bar and leaned, close enough so 
the woman could get an eyeful of her tatts. "The usual, 
Joe."

Joe smirked and poured. It was more than her call for a free 
drink, one of the perks of working here; it was his signal 
that she was on the prowl, and would therefore likely be 
taking an unscheduled break sometime within the hour. 

Her quarry snorted. "Small drink for such a big woman."

Grace glanced over from her G&T and gestured for Joe to 
refill the woman's glass. "Better than--what the hell is that? 
Rubbing alcohol?"

Her new friend watched Joe pour with a critical eye. "Takes 
more than tonic water to get me drunk."

"...so now you're calling me a lightweight?"

"I could drink you under the table.  Even if we started 
counting now."

Grace grinned, showing teeth. "Oh, mercy me."

"No," the woman said, "that's my partner."

Goodie, an incoherent drunk. Grace was starting to 
reconsider when the woman spoke again. "Bodyguard, not 
life. She's Mercy. I'm Hope. Boss has a sense of humor. 
Twisted, but...."

That almost made sense. And, considering-- "I'm Grace. 
Your boss need a third?"

The woman swiveled on her stool and glanced her up and 
down, appraising. "He'd *love* you."

"Yeah?" Grace flexed, almost on instinct. "Gig pays good?"

"The best. Only cost you your soul." Hope tossed back her 
drink and slammed the glass down on the bar. "Trust me, 
you don't want any part of it."

Grace liked setting her own schedule, anyway. She took a 
few long swallows, draining her own glass, and considered. 
"Maybe not. So why are you doing it?"

"You care? It wasn't my *job* you wanted a piece of when 
you came over here." Hope quirked an eyebrow at her, 
followed by a slow grin. "Right?"

So much for foreplay. Which suited Grace just *fine.* She 
motioned at the empty glass. "Well, you can keep killing 
brain cells...or we can find a better way of helping you 
forget your troubles."

Hope just watched her, smiling a little, running the tip of 
her finger through the water ring left on the bar. Small, 
circular motions. Wet finger. And...yeah. Foreplay was 
definitely overrated. 

"Bathroom," Grace said hoarsely, and slid off her stool and 
toward the rear of the bar without a backward glance.

She had time to check the stalls for strays and find the "Out 
of Order" sign for the door before Hope came in, but only 
just. "God, you're tall," the other woman muttered, before 
Grace let herself be pushed up against the tile wall.

The bitch was *strong.* Not in her weight class, but still, 
meta enough that Grace wouldn't have to worry about 
breaking her in half. She got a hand up and twined into 
those 'locks before leaning down to meet Hope's mouth. 
She tasted like cheap vodka and desperation and a hunger 
Grace found all too familiar. She broke off the kiss and 
grinned. "You have a *need,* girlfriend."

"You have a gift for stating the fucking obvious, 
'girlfriend,'" Hope spit back, taking the edge off of her 
words with the flick of a sharp fingernail on the thin shirt 
over Grace's nipple. Grace hissed at the sensation, laughed, 
and pushed her already-considerable chest out farther into 
Hope's space.

"Y'wanna taste? Go to."

Hope leaned in and latched her teeth onto Grace's breast, 
worrying her nipple like a chew toy, shirt and all. Grace 
thought about banging her head against the wall and 
stopped herself in time; any damages she did to the bar that 
didn't directly result from her bouncer's duties came out of 
her paycheck. But damn, the woman *clearly* understood 
about metas, and superhuman tolerances for both pain and 
pleasure. Most guys just nibbled at her a little like they 
were afraid she was gonna break, but this chick--

"Hop on," Grace said, and brought her knee up to Hope's 
crotch, bracing her foot against the wall. Hope settled down 
as if she'd been made to ride, her hips already starting that 
familiar grind. Her mouth was still attached to Grace's left 
breast like a vacuum but one of her hands had wandered up 
to tug at the rings in Grace's earlobe, her finger dipping in 
and out and around the shell of an ear Grace hadn't realized 
was an erogenous zone until now.

And she was *growling.* Quietly, but with intensity. Grace 
took that for a positive sign and bounced her knee a little 
harder. She brought her hands up, one on Hope's waist to 
keep her steady, one tweaking a nipple as hard and eager as 
her own.

For another minute the only sound echoing through the 
bathroom was the sound of their harsh gasps, and then 
Hope made a frustrated noise and brought her hand down, 
fast, to the front of her jeans and started tugging at the 
button. Her mouth finally disengaged from Grace's breast, 
her face twisted with frustration. "Fuck--"

"Sure, baby," Grace said genially, and let Hope slide off 
her leg to kick off her boots and get her jeans down.