IMPRACTICAL MUCH
DISCLAIMER: I don not own anything! It all belongs to DC I'm just playing in their sandbox.
Huntress sat in the car along with The Question on a stakeout. Their target of observation was a disreputable bar in the bowels of the city's underground scene. She wanted to bust in and get the answers they needed by means of aggressive negotiations. Vic insisted on a more finessed approach. So here she sat in a car while Vic pored over files, leaving her to wallow in mind-numbing boredom. So, she started checking her social media boards. She checked her three accounts, finding a common theme in the threads: Power Girl's…ahem…costume choice.
She pulled up the female powerhouse's number and typed: 'We have to talk about your outfit.' It was true because when it came to impracticality the other woman's outfit was the epitome of the word. A technophonic sequence of beeps sounded through the silent car. Vic barely flinched. She read the message.
'Say "boob window" and I'll punch you into space.'
Ah, so Power Girl had at the very least saw the posts. Poor thing. She paused before replying, knowing to take the woman's threat seriously. 'Your…" She thought for a second, trying to find an acceptable euphemism. '…chest door is pretty impractical.' She preened over the clever choice of words.
Her phone alerted her to a reply. 'That's the pot calling the kettle black. But it represents the hole I feel in my existence. It's a metaphor.'
Huntress snorted, glancing aside to see if she'd acquired Question's attention. He still sat, muttering to himself as he perused this case's information he'd compiled in his new notebook. She shook her head and returned to the text message. Sure. Metaphor. Right. 'It's a dirt trap! Bugs must get caught in there when you fly. And don't get me started on wind resistance.' She sent with a grin on her face. Power Girl must have bras made of friggin' miracles and magic.
Minutes later her phone beeped, signifying a message. She opened the message. 'I may have found a migratory bird trapped in there once,' here she'd inserted a nervously sweating emoji, 'but I stand by my choices. What bout you? What does your belly window represent?'
Huntress raised an eyebrow. Represent? Heck, she wasn't so pretentious. Her "belly window" was there for only one reason. 'Nothing. Unless you count my sweet abs.' She inserted several flexing and winking emojis. Yes, her abs were awesome, and she was friggin proud of them. She rubbed her abs, feeling the strong sinewy muscle beneath the skin. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to her boyfriend's cheek, giving him a warm smile when he regarded her.
END