This short story is set just before the start of Grant Morrison's brilliant DC Comics maxi-series
Seven Soldiers of Victory
and details the brief relationship that Zatanna and Dr Thirteen had leading into it. All characters are TM and © DC Comics. This is a work of parody.
Zatanna:
Hex Appeal
13 weeks.
That's how long, appropriately enough, Zatanna had been seeing Dr Terry Thirteen for. It was a relationship that had by all rights taken her completely by surprise. If Zatanna were to picture her perfect man, she had to admit to herself that Terry wouldn't be the first guy -- or even the thirteenth guy -- who would leap to mind. It's not that he was unattractive...quite the opposite, in fact. She liked the whole geek chic thing he had going on, and his body was certainly nothing to sneeze at.
But his scepticism in regard to the supernatural was something that Zatanna was quickly growing to find completely infuriating. No matter how much evidence she showed him of the occult, he always found some way to rationalise it. It might have been cute to start with, in an "opposites attract" kind of way, but now she was just starting to find it exasperating.
As obstinately narrow-minded as he may be, however, he was still a good guy, and Zatanna felt like she owed him a chance. So when he'd asked her along to his book launch in Gotham City, she had of course accepted. She had even resolved to help get him some free publicity by showing up in full costume -- her high heels, fishnet stockings, bustier, tuxedo jacket and top hat.
There was a throng of journalists milling about the entrance as Zatanna showed up, all hurling questions about rumours of her falling out with the Justice League and what she intended to do now. She'd politely offered "No comment" as she'd hurried inside.
But it was no different in there. Every guest wanted to ask her about Batman, or Black Canary, or if she'd be interested in performing at their kid's birthday party. Some were even asking her to sign copies of Terry's book, while completely ignoring the author himself standing next to her.
"I'm so sorry about this." She said after they'd managed to find a quiet corner.
"Don't be," he said with a smile. "We've sold out of every copy."
She laughed, a little surprised at how much of a comfort he was in the midst of all this chaos.
After Terry gave his speech and they'd both taken advantage of the open bar, she offered to split a cab with him back to her place. He'd agreed, of course, but when they'd been dropped off at a vacant lot on the outskirts of the city, he'd been more than a little confused.
"Uh...Zee? You don't live in a tent or something, do you?
"On the contrary," she replied with a smirk and a tip of the hat, before turning to face the rambling estate in front of her. "Raeppa tsercwodas!"
In a whirlwind of sound and fury, a vast mansion came to fill the vacant space, its towering peaks rippling as it unsheathed itself from the parallel dimension it had been occupying until now.
"Wow!" Terry exclaimed, and for a moment Zatanna thought she'd finally convinced him of the existence of magic. "Hologram, right? Or some kind of high-tech, JLA-issue teleportation device?"
Zatanna let out a frustrated sigh.
"Come in." She said, walking him down to the ornate front door.
"This is my place -- Shadowcrest, it's called," she unlocked the door and commanded the lights on. They were standing in a huge receiving room, a chandelier hanging over a curving staircase.
"It's funny, it's been three months now and this is the first time I've seen your place." Terry said from behind her. She felt his arms snake around her waist, his chest against her back and, more importantly, his crotch against her ass. She could tell already that he was aroused.
"Shadowcrest is a very...private place," Zatanna said as she felt Terry's lips on her neck, his hands roaming her body. "I only let in people I trust."
"I'm honoured." He said, his kisses growing longer, his lips parting slightly.
"Mmmm." She moaned as she closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side. She could really feel the champagne she'd had earlier taking full effect. Slowly, he moved her around so that she was facing him, allowing him to brush his lips with hers, inviting her into a kiss.
One kiss led to another, the passion growing, their tongues playing against one another. All the while, Terry's hands continued to explore the curves of Zatanna's body, so frustratingly hidden away by her clothes.
The heat behind their kisses grew stronger and stronger, until it was painfully apparent that a change in venue was imminently needed. They wasted no more time, Zatanna leading the way as, kissing and groping all the while, they stumbled into the room that Zatanna called Shadowcrest's "comfort chamber" -- a small haven dedicated to relaxation, decorated with nothing but soft rugs, candles, and hundreds of harem pillows.
As far as lovers went, Terry was by no means incompetent. Zatanna always enjoyed her time with him, though whatever pleasure he offered her was always of the more earthly variety. She had tried to tutor him in the ways of tantra, much as she had explored with Constantine, but he hadn't really shown that much interest.
She'd attempted to outline the mystic symbolism of the cup and the wand, and how everything they did as a part of sex had greater, universal meeting. The attention Terry paid came across as simple humouring.
Zatanna had been left with no choice but to just accept him and his view of sex for what it was. If he wasn't going to journey with her to realms of other-dimensional pleasure and higher plains of understanding, the least she could get out of him was a damn good fucking.
With the couple having retired to the comfort chamber, Terry seized the chance to quickly pop open each button that lined Zatanna's corset, her large, firm breasts spilling out. He groaned at the sight of them, lowering his head to offer his mouth to them, peppering her with kisses and licking at her nipples.
Zatanna tilted her head back once more, granting him full access, but even as she did she couldn't help but reflect on how unlikely it was that he'd remove much more of her clothing than this. So few men ever did. They always liked her outfit too much.
She felt his hand on her crotch, causing her to cry out in surprise and then coo in pleasure. The warmth of her arousal radiated through the material of her panties, and she knew that there was at least one more piece of clothing she was set to lose.
But not yet.
