A/N: For those of you following Marry The Knight, I should let you know that I've also updated that, but cannot post it here. If you want to read it, a very quick search on Patreon will bring you right to it.
*****
A shower, a shave, and a K.O.R.D. Industries patent hangover cure that actually worked. Then Ted was headed back to the bar to get his car back. He was feeling a little weak after the double blowjob, so Ted decided to hail a cab. It wasn't like he couldn't afford it. He went to the curb and raised his hand, only for a limo to glide to stop before him.
The door opened up and he saw a woman he would almost call thick-set, if her thickness weren't so well-proportioned to her great height and huge muscles. She was dressed in a smart business suit, accessorized by a set of black-rimmed glasses on a youthful face, round-cheeked and square-jawed. Blonde pixie haircut. She looked familiar somehow.
"Ted," she nodded. "Get in."
"I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Ted, it's me."
He stared at her blankly.
"Come on, my disguise is not that good." With a sigh, she undid a button on her blouse, the one over her breasts, and pulled it open to reveal a bit of her cleavage, which she had quite a bit of—quite a quite a bit...
"Power Girl?"
She rolled her eyes. "Get in, loser, I've already made the reservations."
"Reservations?" Ted asked, though he was already getting into the car. Now that he knew it was Power Girl—Karen—he knew it was best to do what she said.
Karen sat across from him in the spacious interior. It was one of those limousines that was like a penthouse on wheels. "Hotel Lexor. Yeah, it's Lexcorp, but evil is stylish. I've booked us the Kennedy Suite for the weekend."
"For... a slumber party?"
She smiled. "Yeah. A clothing-optional slumber party." He didn't respond except for a blank stare. "Clothing very optional." Blank stare. "Emphasis on the option being 'not'."
"I'm sorry, you want to have sex with me?"
Karen took her glasses off, tucking them into a chest pocket on her shirt. Her shirt being what it was, she probably had room for five or six pockets there. "I know. I find it hard to believe too."
"Why?"
She shrugged. There was an ice bucket and opened bottle of champagne seated on the floor. She gathered it up along with two flutes, offered them to him—he demurred—and she drank from the longneck direct. "What can I say? I woke up this morning and you were on my mind. You're actually kinda cute—funny—"
"Intentionally too, sometimes."
"Don't riff me while I'm coming onto you," she said warningly.
"Sorry, sorry."
"And smart, too, occasionally. Like now, for instance. There are a lot of brooding jackasses in our line of work, and you've always been nice to me. Always tried to put a smile on my face, even when you were trying to get into my pants. Usually because you were trying to get into my pants."
"Does your costume technically have pants?"
She gave him that look which was one second away from being heatvision, but was also a bit fond. "See? I hate that I'm amused by that. But I am. And, Rao, it's a crazy world. People always dying and coming back to life and time getting rewritten. I don't want to leave things left unsaid. I want you to know how much I like you."