The Equilibrium Deviance

A/N: This fic was betaed by Gnome_man and co-written by Ksennin. While you're here, check out some of his other works available on this fine website.

*

Harley squirmed, wishing she could get just a finger free, but her bonds only drew tighter, tighter. Cutting into her flesh almost painfully, allowing her even less room to move, to even breathe. And as the vines pulled taut, she felt their pressure on her erect nipples, her needy cunt—it was scintillating. She shuffled her thighs together... she could still do that, at least, and it felt good. "I love you, Ivy!" she tried to say, but the vine across her lips could not be dislodged.

Below her—for Harley was suspended ten feet off the ground—Poison Ivy waved a hand, loosening the vines she had directed to seize Harley. She was rewarded with a massive intake of breath from the clown, then a muffled refrain of nonsense from her gagged mouth. With a sigh, Ivy tightened the vines once more and refocused on her experiment. Even with Harley bound and gagged, it was hard to get any work done with her around.

It was impossible to sneak up on Ivy in her garden. Every blade of grass, every flower's petal, every verdant leaf on every towering tree was her sentinel. A bird could no more land there without her knowing than a spider could be ignorant of a fly caught in its web. And yet, Ivy felt a sudden presence behind her. A warm, breathing

person

suddenly in the heart of her domain.

"Have I interrupted anything?" came a deep, musical voice that Ivy did not know.

It was impossible. Even teleportation had to travel through space, and all space was bisected by the Green, as was all magic. The only way for someone to just

be

in her garden was if they entered from another reality altogether—and Ivy did not know anyone like that.

That

was the arena of gods.

Still, Ivy figured she was at least a demi-god, and this was her home... She turned to regard the intruder—a beautiful woman clad in a timeless green dress, her hair dark with purple highlights, her eyes a similar shade of violet, and her lips a deep red. Ivy didn't have much use for humans, aside from Harley. She was shocked to find that the sexuality the woman exuded coaxing her most effectively. Already, her pheromones were responding in kind.

She decided to go along with her body's insistence, putting on a seductive face and letting her pheromones work. It was always best to negotiate with someone who was in love with you. "Interrupting? No, not hardly. I just needed Harley out of my hair for a little while."

"Mmm... and what hair would that be?" the woman with purple eyes asked, trailing her gaze up Ivy's long legs, ending where they stopped. "Well, never mind that. We can discuss it later. For now, I've come to you with a proposition. For you, and your... pet."

Ivy tilted her head and the vines holding Harley abruptly released. She dropped facefirst to the ground, coming up holding her nose. "Oww! Ivy, who is this chick? Is she one of your exes?"

"Quiet, Harl, she's a goddess."

"You

never

call me a goddess--!"

The woman with purple eyes smiled and gestured, freezing Harley in her affronted position. "Humans. So adorable, aren't they?"

Internally, Ivy felt her barely beating heart give a throb. There, she was still human. "Yes. Quite. Release her; she'll be good. And I'm sure whatever you want to do with me will be better with her... being good."

The woman with purple eyes widened her smile. "If I wanted to fuck you, or your whore, Dr. Isley, you and her would both have been on your knees the moment I arrived, drinking my nectar like it could cure your earthly ills. No. Doctor. I'm here on more pressing matters."

"Release her!" Ivy cried, reaching into the Green, summoning its energy to make her plants grow, change,

attack.

And the Green was not there. It was blocked to her. And Ivy's realization of that made the woman smile even more. "Well. Since you asked so nicely."

"—Harl or blondie or dumb-dumb or bitch, but you could pay me a real compliment once in a while, it wouldn't kill ya!" Harley looked around, even her damaged mind noting that the two women had seemingly teleported from where she'd seen them last. "Hey, red, am I thinking with portals or somethin'?"

"

Be quiet, Harley!"

Ivy insisted, with force in her voice that even Harley could respect. Harley enjoyed pushing boundaries, convincing Ivy to drop everything and pay attention to how cute she was, but sometimes, even she could take a hint. "What do you want?" Ivy asked plainly.

The woman with purple eyes reached up to pluck a low-hanging apple. In her hand, it turned to gold. "How long do you think you can stay here, 'uninterrupted'? You realize it's only a matter of time before someone—most likely that so-called

Knight

—tracks you here and drags you, kicking and screaming, back to Arkham."

"I'm ready for whatever comes," Ivy said in a low voice. Harley simply nodded in support.

The woman tossed her golden apple from hand to hand. "So you say. But what if you didn't have to be? What if no one could threaten you ever again?" She stopped tossing the apple and took a bite out of it—her white teeth easily tearing through the yellow metal. "What if there were no superheroes?"

"Oh, baby, did you ever pick the wrong time for this!" Harley called. "We all just joined the Society, thinking Luthor would make us masters of the universe, but all we got was punched. A lot."

"The Society was a useful diversion. Its defeat has lulled our 'heroes' into a false sense of security. Like the knights of old, now they wish to celebrate their victory with wine, women, and song. Now is the perfect time to strike. Not through strength of arms, but with their own dark desires."

Harley turned to Ivy, who was smiling icily. "Hey, red, ain't that kinda your thing?"

"Yes, it is, Harl. But unfortunately, while a sex scandal may stop a politician or a pop star, a superhero can continue being a threat, even with the whole world knowing what they look like naked."

The woman tossed Harley her apple. Harley caught it, but being solid gold, it dragged her hands to the ground instead of landing softly in their grip. She approached Ivy, her beauty growing by the moment, as Harley struggled to budge the dropped gold. "On the contrary. A little sex can destroy the most ardent hero. If you do it right. Interested?" Her grin dipped into innuendo.

Ivy smiled right back. This woman may have more power, but no cause was as righteous as preserving Mother Earth. She was outmatched, but not outclassed. "As long as we do it with Harley."

"Of course. This is a group effort." The woman drew her hands together—Ivy had fought Zatanna enough times to recognize a spell being cast—and Ivy felt her garden grow abruptly, suddenly distant, as reality changed around them. "Ready to meet the group?"

***

No one with a rack this great should be this bored,

Power Girl thought to herself.

She didn't mind monitor duty; she wasn't a fucking brat like some of the younger members, who just wanted to have fun putting out fires and punching bad guys. It was a really important position, if you thought about it, worthy of having an actual superhero spending their precious time sitting in front of a computer like some Star Trek fanboy. If anything came up, it took the wisdom and maturity that came from actually being out in the field to determine who should be assigned where, what crises required intervention and which could be handled by the proper authorities, and most importantly, if any of the distress signals they picked up were traps.

Karen felt very appreciated to be trusted with that responsibility, practically leading the JLA, really. It would just be nice if something were actually happening.

Since the defeat of the Secret Society of Supervillains, about eighty percent of the Earth's supervillain population was jailed. The remainder were, by and large, small-time criminals—or those presumed dead but with no corpse (so, probably not dead). Thus every supervillain on Earth was either in prison or lying low. There were no volcanoes. No wars. No tidal waves. No riots. No earthquakes. No meteors. Everyone, including the superheroes, seemed to be staying home and enjoying a well-deserved rest.

Except for Karen, who had monitor duty.

She wished she had a boyfriend. This would be a great time for some phone sex, and she was sure she wasn't the only one who'd thought so. Every time Vixen wrapped up a shift on monitor duty, the place smelled like fish.

In lieu of that, could she play Candy Crush on the big monitor? Yes, she could, but would Batman know about it? Yes, he would—but could she beat him up if he said anything about it? Probably.

Then again, she was supposed to be monitoring, and that meant checking in on her teammates. Making sure none of them had been captured, tortured, made to watch CBS, whatever. And if the spy satellites happened to pick up anything—

interesting—

well, she'd just stop watching. Eventually. Once she was sure no one was going to be tortured.

Karen was pretty sure she'd just figured out why Beetle and Booster volunteered for monitor duty so much. And here she'd thought it was a gay thing.