The Equilibrium Deviance Ch. 01

A/N: I'll be honest and admit that this has been kind of a backburner project for a while and I'm releasing it into the wild because it just wasn't too any damn good hanging out on my hard drive. Both me and my co-writer are pressed for free time these days, so... not trying to be the "ten comments or I don't update!" asshole here... but if there isn't any interest in it, I'll probably let it die, at least for the foreseeable future. So if you like it, you want to see more, let me know, otherwise, go back to whatever it is you were doing before this story came into your life. Probably watching cat videos. I don't know.

CHAPTER 1: WHERE DOES AN EIGHT HUNDRED POUND GORILLA SIT?

Were anyone watching, they would not believe that Mari Jiwe McCabe was a supermodel. It wasn't a lack of beauty that was the issue. Even in a sports bra and track pants, her dark skin covered in sweat, a quick photograph of her could be hung in an art gallery in the world. Nor was it her age. Although mature by industry standards, she had a grace and elegance that only came with experience, and was not wanting for contracts, even with her rigorous standards for how she and any other models on a shoot with her would be treated.

No, the problem would be seeing Mari in the first place. She was running so fast that her arms and legs blurred together, her torso and head a shimmer of vibrant motion. Her treadmill, though specifically designed by Kord Industries, was hard-pressed to keep up, and it was only the fact that she was running in place that kept her by and large visible. Were she running outside, and a random camera phone or camcorder happened to catch her, a layperson's first thought would be of the Flash family.

Mari was the costumed superhero Vixen, a Justice Leaguer whose vodun animal spirits allowed her to channel their power through her Tantu Totem. Usually, she used this power to fight injustice, but occasionally—when there was free food and few cameras—she appropriated the appetite of a panda bear and packed on the pounds. And after a comfortable interval of laziness, she took on the metabolism of a hummingbird and ran the weight off in a few hours. And that redheaded snip of a model thought she was bulimic. What was her name again? She'd had almost the same initials as Mari...

Stopping abruptly, she leapt smoothly off the treadmill before it could propel her through the back wall. She landed cleanly as the high-tech exercise machine automatically powered down, and patted her stomach—once more flat as North Dakota. She habitually kept her ears slightly pointed with the summoned hearing of a wolf, wanting to hear any possible danger before it got within six miles, as well as the ring of her JLA communicator. On scantily-clad photoshoots, she often couldn't keep it on her person.

Not a problem now. She'd left it on the floor beside the treadmill. Toweling off, she tapped it with her toe. "This is Vixen. What's up, Peej? Just feeling lonesome?"

Knowing her friend well, she could feel Power Girl's amused blush over the comm channel. "There's a break-in at the Hub City division of STAR Labs. Seems like just one assailant. You want to handle it or should I call in the Big Seven?"

"Hub City's my hunting ground. Let the League sleep, this one's all mine. Unless you want to beam down here. Watch my ass."

Power Girl giggled. I knew it, Mari thought to herself. A straight woman with cleavage like that shouldn't have any trouble getting a boyfriend—not to mention all that time she'd spent with Oracle, the biggest power dyke outside of Regina Mills. Yeah, she and Peej were on more than one of the same teams.

"I can keep an eye on your ass from up here."

"That's why I wear the skintight suit, babe."

***

Old favorite: flying squirrel. Sure, she could fly, but there was just something about gliding—letting gravity have a hold on her and just ignoring it to jump from rooftop to rooftop.

In record time, she was in the little market district that STAR Labs ruled over; a mall with packs of storefronts and parking spaces to tend to the needs of the science campus's several hundred employees. The campus itself was dominated by a trademark laboratory—a great cylinder of self-contained arcology, supposedly impregnable. Nothing got in and nothing got out, not without forms filled out in triplicate.

Vixen supposed whoever'd put the smoldering hole in the side of the building hadn't heard that part. Stretching out her limbs, she glided down to the fence separating the building from the forest beyond, perching and channeling eagle eyes to scout out the area. No sign of injured parties, nor could she pick up irregular heartbeats or other signs of trauma. STAR Labs' protocol had worked; the employees must've all retreated to panic rooms. Of course, that also meant on-site security had decided to live to guard another day. Whoever she was up against was not a C-lister.

She thumbed on her belt-mounted communicator. "Peej, you seeing this?"

"Uh-huh. Want back-up now?"

"I have every animal you've ever seen on the Discovery Channel for back-up. But keep your finger on the button."

"Consider the button fingered."

Was she flirting back? Well now. Maybe she would be seeing some nightcap to go with her thrilling heroics. Assuming she didn't happen upon some stunningly beautiful damsel in need of undistressing.

Grasshopper: She jumped the proportionate distance to the hole mid-way up the building, landing on the debris sprayed inside the hallway. It was hard to balance on, which was why when the gorilla charged, she couldn't pull a roadrunner.

Tiger: she clawed the shit out of his chest as he collided with her, carrying them both right back out the building. Tossed her aside in mid-air and, by rote, she assumed Cat to land on her feet.

So did he.

Vixen checked him out in the damaged parking lot of the arcology, amidst a fleet of cars hailed on by rubble. Far too large for a normal gorilla, without the hue of the Ultra-Humanite, and with a score of old scars covering his thick hide.

Grodd.

He set aside some whatever-it-was from a sling around his back... looked like a telescope from the set of Star Trek. Unencumbered, he stumped his big hairy fists on the ground. "Soon, gorilla will take the world from man, as it always should've been!" Blah blah blah. "When the takeover comes, which shall you be: foodstuff or... toy?"

He was staring at her breasts. Mari supposed she should've been flattered that her sex appeal transcended species but hell, she wasn't Starfire or anything. "You know, you've ruined Planet of the Apes for me? I used to think a planet ruled by monkeys would be kinda neat. But you are just no Dr. Zaius."

Again, the 'King Kong pounding on the pavement' bit. It cracked. Mari gulped. Still, no need to look bad in front of Power Girl. She put all her totem into Gorilla, her arms elongating and thickening until they settled on the ground. "Okay, Magilla. Let's make this a fair fight. You animal enough to face me?"

The sustained roar answered her. She would've responded in kind, but she was a lady after all. He rushed her, clambering over the cars in the way, and she charged him.

In the Watchtower, Power Girl watched on satellite read-out as the two collided, circled each other, pounded their own chests. With tits like Vixen's, that had to hurt.

Poison Ivy too watched as they pounded into each other, meaty fists flailing, flinging each other about like rag dolls into parked cars and chunks of scattered masonry. But she was far closer. And somewhat more appreciative of Vixen's charms.

Grodd was the veteran when it came to fighting in this form. Picking up Vixen, he slammed her down on a cherry Corvette once, twice, three times.

"Fight well," he admonished. "I may allow you to become my mate."

Vixen kicked out with her boot, catching him in the thigh and sending him staggering back. "Man, I know about gorillas and their 'proportions'. If your action figure was anatomically correct, it'd still be a Ken doll."

With a roar, Grodd struck out with his mind. Telekinetic force hit Vixen and drove her back, rolling her off the car and onto a ground strewn with shattered glass. Only the body armor of an abalone saved her from shredding her skin.

"Oh, so we're doing the psychic thing?" she asked. As long as he was cheating...

Channeling the jaw of a hyena, Vixen leapt for him. He swung at her, a backhand that would've taken a man's head off, but she was too fast all on her own. She ducked under it and bit into his arm.

Hyena's jaws were stronger than those of lions, tigers, or wolves. They could crush elephant bones. Hers easily sunk into Grodd's hide deep enough to snap the bone. He shrieked in agony as she drew back, now calling on the strength of a blue whale. People didn't commonly think of whales as strong, but it took a lot of power to survive the water pressure of the depths, to move all that blubber. One swing punched him through four cars.

When he came to a stop, wolf's ears told her he was snoring. Now to check on the tech. She looked over where Grodd had set it down—she was sure it hadn't shifted in the fight—but all she saw was a bit of moss growing on the car door it'd been leaning against. I don't suppose it's some kind of agricultural experiment...

Quick as a whip, a tentacle snagged her foot and pulled it out from under her. Her chin bounced off the hood of a car before she hit the ground, looked down to see it was a vine right out of the rain forest.

Poison Ivy.

The woman herself came strolling out of the woods, through a hole her vines had made in the fence. She was just the kind of woman Mari might've gone for under different circumstances. Women in the circles she traveled in tended to be either tall and lean, like herself, or big and muscular like Big Barda. Either could be fun, but damnit, she was shallow. It was her right to be, she was a model. And sometimes, she wanted a lover, not a fighter.

Ivy was certainly that. Her body seemed built for nothing but sex. Long, toned legs that led inexorably up to a heart-shaped ass, her breasts full and firm and overflowing from her body into her clothes, though her skin was covered only in the curlicuing vines of her namesake. Her green-tinted skin and red-burnished hair lent her an exotic quality that Mari would've loved to explore further.

With each approaching step, the leaves on her vines shifted in the wind, flashing at Mari hints of nipples and other lusciously bared flesh. She even thought she could see Ivy's clover-toe.

"Mmmm. Vixen." Ivy chewed on a fingernail. "Thank you for taking out Grodd. I thought I really would have to follow through with his plan and help him take over the world. I'm sure you'll agree, anything is better than men in charge, but at the end of the day, a bunch of gorillas running things is pretty much just people with worse body odor." She batted her eyelashes. "Now, however can I reward you?"

Mari wasn't stupid. She could feel Ivy's pheromones going to work on her. Nipples tingling. Pulse racing. Clit hardening. It was like Wonder Woman had walked into the room. "Not gonna work, Ivy. I'd die first."

Ivy ran her finger from her full lips down to... oh God... she moved the vines right out of the way with that finger. "Then why not go out with a bang?"

Startled, Vixen tried to move—too late—as more vines gripped her, winding themselves around her arms and legs. Ivy stepped closer, the leaves falling from her ropey covering. More and more of her was exposed, and Mari felt her heart race faster and faster. The feelers crept from her limbs to her torso, over her crotch, into the plunging neckline of her bodysuit, around her stiff nipples...

"Normally I have a thing about animals, and you're sort of all of them at once, aren't you? But I've made exceptions for mammals before. Grodd may be in dire need of manscaping, but he did have some good taste. How about it, Vixen?"

***

Up on Watchtower, Power Girl watched with bated breath. She had to do something. She had to get to the teleporter, beam down, and save Vixen.

Before they started without her.

***

But Karen, not wanting to miss a second of the seduction, had wasted too much time at the monitor. Before she could even spin up the teleporter, Mari had responded.

A while back, Mari had been mind-controlled into serving a religious cult. It was a fundamentalist cult, not one of those hippie-drippy things, so there'd been no hanky-panky. But she'd only gotten out from under it by literally making an ass of herself. Next time she doubted she'd be so lucky, and she had no intention of being in a Lifetime movie. So she'd trained herself for whenever some pervert got mind-control powers and thought of getting some brown sugar. Almost instinctively, she channeled a power she'd acquired on her last adventure with Rip Hunter—the penis of a prehistoric timberwolf.

Ripping free of her bonds, she jumped Ivy, bearing her to the ground and topping her. Ivy's eyes bulged as she saw the sausage-thick outline at the crotch of Mari's costume.

"Listen up, Ivy. You want to drive me crazy with lust, you go ahead. This thing's about to rip right out of my uniform and you can guess where it's headed next. Once that happens, I'll knot you. We'll be tied together for hours. Long enough for back-up to arrive. The League will hush the whole thing up, once they pull me out of you. That won't be pleasant either. So unless you're a much bigger dog-person than I figure, cut that shit out."

All of a sudden, it was like Ivy just wasn't her type. Ivy raised her hands, an expression of coy sheepishness on her face. Then something whirling and black collided with her head. Knocked her out cold.

The voice came out of nowhere, like a Beyonce album: "Sorry to interrupt, but she has an Arkham reunion to attend."

Vixen didn't know if Ivy was still pumping out a few pheromones or if she was just that easy. Either way, Batwoman's husky voice did it for her. "Sounds fun. Can she take a gorilla as her Plus One?"

The Bat stepped out of some shadows, and Mari decided yes, she was that easy, because this was the third woman in as many minutes that she wouldn't kick out of bed for eating crackers. Shorter than she imagined, but wasn't that true of everyone? Vixen was a model, she'd been to Hollywood. Everyone there was shorter and gayer than they seemed on-screen.

"Speaking of a Plus One..." Batwoman glanced significantly downward.

Vixen quickly stopped channeling the timber wolf. "Would you believe I'm just happy to see you?"

Batwoman smiled wryly, but like all Bats, was quick to business. "You have the superstrength, you take care of Mighty Joe Young. I'll hold onto Ivy." She took a moment to eye the redhead who, semi-conscious, woozily preened. "Mmm... she looks good in handcuffs, doesn't she?"

***

The proper League Support vehicles to transport Grodd and Ivy would take time to arrive. In the meantime, they carried the prisoners into one of STAR's vaults—an artless white room packed with boxes of Dr. Kirby's incomprehensible tech. Batwoman used her bottomless utility belt to sedate Grodd and slap Ivy with a pheromone inhibitor. Vixen dusted herself off from the fight with Grodd, noting Batwoman's interest in the push and pull of her costume.

With the crisis resolved, Mari likewise occupied herself with some artistic appreciation of the female form—in this case, Batwoman's. Wasn't like there was much else to look at in the sterile room.

She really wasn't tall. She'd be petite if it weren't for her high-heeled boots; and Vixen had thought those were impractical. As well, her skin was ghostly-pale to go with her blood-red hair. Goddamn Bats, being so brooding and goth and tight leather. At least the Batgirls had the common courtesy to be underage.

And something about that cherubic face, rendered fearsome by the mask, stirred Mari's memory. Did she know her in her civilian identity? Maybe she was another model slash hero. Herself, Kory, and Batwoman. They'd make a fine threesome. Err, trio.

Vixen forced herself to business. The Gotham crew didn't tend to be impressed by chit-chat. "So, what'd they nab?"

"Resonance Cascader," Batwoman explained. Or thought she explained. Off Vixen's look: "Makes earthquakes."

Vixen looked at Ivy. The elemental was seated, her hands tied behind her back, but her legs free... and open. If it weren't for the regrown vines, Vixen would be able to see her flower. "That sounds dangerous. Why don't you tell us where it is and we'll take care of it for you."

"Well, since your spread in Vogue last July kept me warm on so many lonely Arkham nights, I'll tell you that Harley took it and buried it for me to get to when I inevitably break free of Arkham."

Vixen flashed some claws. "Tell us where it is or we'll put you in an LA prison. You can get smog alerts with your weather reports.

Ivy smiled like she knew the punchline to a joke Mari didn't even know she was being told. It reminded Vixen disconcertingly of the Joker. "Do you know what it's like in Arkham? Four gray walls. Doughy orderlies. Not a lot of stimulation. Us ladies don't even shower together. All we have are our memories."

"My heart weeps," Vixen said, leaning over her.

Ivy pressed her lips together tightly. "Ooh. Bend over a little further and you'll have nothing to be sorry about."

Vixen didn't bend any further. But she did growl. "This isn't a peep show." Though she didn't straighten either.

"It could be." Mari watched Ivy's full lips rub sinuously together. And they call me Vixen. "They keep it so hot in Arkham. So warm and dry. If you could just give something to think about while I'm locked away—something to keep me nice and wet. If you two could kiss. That would be worth a few directions."

Mari and Batwoman looked at each other. What she saw in Batwoman's eyes shocked her. Not confusion. Not even determination. It was... eagerness.

With no warning beyond that look, Batwoman's lips were pressed to Vixen's. Her kiss wasn't what she would've expected: cold and domineering. Instead it was warm, submitting, eager to please. And as red as they were, Batwoman's lips tasted as sweet as candy.

Mari had to force herself to stop kissing Batwoman. It was just supposed to be one little kiss, after all. Not... what she felt like doing. What her throbbing groin, her burning breasts wanted her to do.

"All right, you got your sweeps-week lesbianism!" she fairly shouted at Ivy. "Where's the Cascader?"

Ivy wove her head from side to side, hair sashaying around her lovely face. "Oh... twenty feet north of that hole in the fence, I'd say. In the woods."

Mari took a few steps back from Batwoman, whose breasts were heaving behind her red insignia. They had pressed up against Mari's chest as the two kissed...

Batwoman took a visibly deep breath. "I'll have Doc Hamilton go there and scan." She detached herself into the corner to make the call.

Vixen kept an eye on Ivy. She could see her toes curl with a tension that flowed up her legs. "Somehow I don't think I'm the only person who'll keep warm thinking of that," Ivy said.

"Quiet, bitch."

"No need to thank me. Happy to be of service."

"I said shut up."

"Maybe you can service me too..."

Batwoman came back before Mari could show Ivy what being kissed with vampire bat teeth felt like. "Hamilton's scanning for the Cascader's energy. He says he's picking it up." She smiled feebly at Mari's evident distress. "Wasn't that bad a kiss, was it?"

"No, no, we were—you were—it was fine." Mari huffed. "I'm just really looking forward to getting home and taking one cold-ass shower."

Batwoman's cape was cinched tightly around her. "Or... we could do something else."

Vixen looked. In the shadows and blackness, only Batwoman's eyes were visible. They were still eager.