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.
