The Tower

The Justice League was not doing well against the Injustice Gang and their newest members. Green Lantern and Hawkgirl were down, taken out by the Cheetah, while the League’s heaviest hitters, Superman and Wonder Woman, were evenly matched by Metallo and Giganta.

As Bruce Wayne approached in the Batplane, he found the chess game more or less as he had expected it. Whoever’d put together the new Injustice Gang had done their job well, but they’d left enough openings for himself and his own ace in the hole, Power Girl, to exploit.

She flew alongside the Batplane, her cape fluttering behind her, as if refusing to belie her awesome body for an instant. He could see the girth of her thick biceps and strong thighs, both left entirely uncovered by her costume, and the slenderness in her narrow waist which did not carry on to the rest of her body, making it clear her voluptuousness was a result of fitness and spectacular breeding, not any sort of fat. Her breasts were the roundest thing about her, each slightly smaller than her head, pouting and heavy in deference to their astonishing heft, but otherwise high-set on her chest, showing a disdain for gravity every bit as astounding as her great strength and power of flight. It was no wonder her costume showed them off, a wide window cut out of the front of her cleavage, plunging down to just above her nipples at the midpoint of her aloft cleavage—showing off how her breasts needed no support to be as perkily buoyant as they were.

“Help Superman,” Bruce barked to Power Girl. “I’ll take care of Giganta.”

“What am I supposed to do about Metallo?” Power Girl demanded. She was no more a fan of him and his lacking respect than anyone in the JLA, especially given his distrust for her as an inexplicable metahuman, but she bore a grudging respect for his methods. It made her short-tempered in her dealings with him, but for all that, she could be reasoned with despite her ego.  “That Kryptonite will work on me just as well as the big guy.”

Bruce didn’t even look at her, focusing on his targeting computer as he began his approach on Giganta’s hundred foot height. “Physics. If you fly at Metallo going full speed, then by the time the Kryptonite radiation affects you, you’ll be going fast enough that momentum will carry you into him. That should be enough to subdue him. Superman, do you hear that?”

“I heard,” Superman growled into his communicator, sounding both nauseous from the radiation he was taking in and incensed at having Batman condescend to him.

“Then get clear,” Batman ordered. “Power Girl, go.”

Superman flung himself to the ground, taking his body safely out of the way as Karen lined herself up with Metallo from five hundred feet off. Flying at him as fast as her superspeed would carry her, she felt only a half-second of sickening distress as the waves of radiation washed over her—then she bodily rammed into him, knocking Metallo off the rooftop where he’d confronted Superman and straight at the horizon.

It was a safe bet that when he landed, the impact would be enough to jog his very human brain against its casing. In other words, Bruce thought to himself, a concussion. Even cyborgs didn’t do well with those.

“Good work,” he said brusquely, though all his attention was focused on Giganta. 

He fired a tow-cable from the Batplane, its hook snaring in the rear flap of Giganta’s loincloth. With the material being strong enough to survive her supernatural growth and countless battles, it would be more than enough to secure the other end of the cable. With the reel inside the Batplane hissing as it doled out tightly wound metallic fibers strong enough to hold a herd of elephants, Batman piloted his way around and around Giganta’s legs. He tied them together as she slapped at the gnat-sized pest drawing her ire. 

“Wonder Woman, I could use a distraction,” he barked, and heard Diana’s answer come with almost as much resentment as Superman’s. 

“Very well,” she said tersely, and flew at Giganta’s face, landing blows on her jaw that had the giant swatting at her instead of Batman.

***

Even with her strength, at this size all Diana could do was irritate Giganta. So she did that, whipping at her with the golden lasso, landing literally stinging blows with her fists, while Batman circled around Giganta’s legs, winding loop after loop of tow-cable around them.

“Diana, get her arm down around her side!” Bruce ordered, and Diana felt another flash of resentment. He was no one to be giving her orders, a mere mortal, a man, who had not even begun to live his single, finite lifetime. He wasn’t even Superman, who himself wasn’t worthy of her, not capable of satisfying Diana and keeping up with her the way she’d let herself hope he would at the beginning of their failed relationship.

And yet—throwing out her lasso, Diana caught Giganta’s right hand by the thumb and flew downward as hard as she could, pulling Giganta’s arm down to slap against her hip. The Batplane looped around it, its tow-cable catching Giganta’s wrist. Afterburners roared behind the Batplane, and in a flash it had looped around Giganta two more times, tying her right arm securely in place.

“Now her left arm, Diana, hurry!”

Diana gritted her teeth. Arrogant, overconfident, like all men. Even more frustrating, he had the audacity to be right. His planning and quick thinking would win them this battle, and she would be unable to think of him as a typical pathetic male. No, as she thought of Bruce, she would think of his strong body, his powerful discipline, how he so very nearly comprehended the drastic necessity of hardness in times of war—and she would be unable to think of anything to dissuade her from this fascination with him.

She caught Giganta’s other arm with her lasso, pulling it behind Giganta’s back for Bruce to circle around with the Batplane. In short order, it too was locked into place, and Giganta was completely tied from head to toe, unable to break free from the adamantine cable. 

“Keep at it,” Diana said over the communicator, retrieving her lasso. “It’ll take more than that to hold Giganta.”

“I’m well aware,” Bruce replied, his jet making more passes around Giganta.

Diana barely had time to fume at his arrogance before Cheetah speared into her, carrying them both down onto a nearby rooftop. Diana landed on her feet and got her bracelets up, deflecting away Cheetah’s slashing claws.

“Mooning over the Bat?” Cheetah snickered. “Oh, so worried!”

“Be silent, wretch!” Diana bellowed, and charged at her.

She was locked in battle when Giganta made her move. Just as the Batplane circled in front of her, she threw herself forward, managing to headbutt the Batplane as she went down. Apparently the impact had jammed the reel paying out the tow-cable. It stayed fixed on the Batplane as Giganta went down, dragging the Batplane with her. Her body would safely land in the street, between the low-rise buildings to either side, but the Batplane would be dashed against them.

“Batman!” Diana called out worriedly, her distraction earning her a vicious cut across the face from Cheetah. She was forced to resume combat with her, unable to get away, while Power Girl streaked in.

She grabbed hold of the Batplane as easily as someone would catch a paper airplane, and severed the caught tow-cable with a blast of heatvision. The Batplane was left safely in the air above her outstretched hands.

“Thank you,” Bruce said over the comms, his voice a little shaken—no, that was just gratitude.

“You’re welcome, handsome,” Power Girl replied in an openly sensual tone. “Feel free to make it up to me any way you want…”

Cheetah went for Wonder Woman again, though this time Diana had the presence of mind to block the blow. “Aww, what’s the matter? Miss your chance to play Princess Charming?”

“Enough!” Diana spat, and threw a punch that blew right through Cheetah’s defenses and knocked her into the next zip code.

Diana supposed that whoever went to pick up Metallo could make a stop-off for Cheetah too. She hoped she’d at least punched Cheetah in the same direction. 

***

The Martian Manhunter held out his hands, telekinesis lifting Giganta’s snugly tied form to rest in the enormous flatbed that a fleet of Army Humvees would then tow to a detention facility. When she landed, the flatbed sprouted more restraints to hold her down. They’d held kaiju before. Giganta wouldn’t be a more difficult cargo.

“The situation is resolved,” he declared. “Batman, report to the Watchtower for debriefing.”

“Negative,” Batman replied over the comms. “I still have work to do with Power Girl. You interrupted me, remember?”

Diana overheard, crossing her arms angrily as she watched the Batplane fly away, Power Girl alongside it, her muscular buttocks visible on either side of the plunging leotard of her costume, displaying slabs of thick, rippling muscle instead of the flab such a voluptuously well-rounded ass would more usually hold. 

It was stupid of her to feel this way—beneath her godly dignity—but no matter how Diana reprimanded herself, she could not help a sense of jealousy. Karen wasn’t even in the League, she wasn’t a goddess like…

Superman was approaching her, no doubt still fuming over how Bruce had taken charge of the situation. Though given the way he was eying her as well, irritation plainly writ on his handsome features, it was clear he also took issue with how concerned she’d been when Batman was in danger.

“Don’t worry about Bruce,” he told her, a passive-aggressive mixture of reassurance and resentment. “Karen will take good care of him.”

That was what she was afraid of—as Clark well knew.