Too Crazy To Love ~ A Supercorp Fanfic (PART 1)

Chapter Four: A Playful Lick, A Cowardly Lion, and a Wish Unfulfilled

"I believe this may be the seeeediest bar I have ever stepped into," Ivy said, stepping over the threshold, her vines shrinking back in disgust. "And that's no compliment."

"Well, gosh, I've been in seedier places. You should have seen the lousy joints Mr. J dragged me into. Some of them were real dumpsters."

"It's purrrfect. It's here, it's open, and this kitty needs a cocktail."

The three Sirens looked at Lena eagerly awaiting her vote.

Lena surveyed the dark, dingy bar, aptly named "The Hell Hole", and the low-life clientele with her discerning Luthor eye. She briefly considered siding with Ivy, but her mouth was parched, and her mind raced with images of Kara kissing William and she longed to make them stop.

"If there's alcohol, I'm in," Lena said, stepping past the women and sauntering into the bar with careless abandon.

All the patron's eyes were fixed on the unusual group of friends as they waded through the crowd of hairy, leather-clad bikers and tattooed misfits. The Sirens were not afforded the luxury of anonymity, but Lena felt just as exposed when she was in public. She had no illusions of grandeur, but one would only need to pick up a newspaper or magazine to know she was the CEO of L-Corp and the ex-owner of CatCo Worldwide Media. Oddly enough, Lena felt safer in this seedy bar than anywhere in National City. She was confident that the patrons of this fine establishment were not at all concerned with her comings and goings.

The four women walked up to the bar and waited for the bartender to pick his jaw up off the ground. He was not alone. The male clientele all stood agape, trying to decide whether they were threatened or turned on. The female customers scoffed and held onto their men, terrified they would want a taste of what the bad girls were offering.

"Excuse me, barkeep. We'd like to order some drinks when you've got a minute," Harley said with a flirtatious twirl of her blue-dipped pigtail.

Lena guessed the bartender had to be six-foot-three, and he weighed about 285. It shocked her when she saw his pudgy hand shaking as he approached.

"Wha... wha... what can I get you... um...," the Bartender asked nervously.

"Ladies," Cat said with a hiss. "What would we ladies like to drink? I'll take a Black Cat."

"I'll take a 'Smiling Ivy'. That's Dark Jamaican Rum, Egg White, Lemon Juice, Peach Liqueur, and Pineapple Juice."

Ivy licked her lips and her vines vibrated excitedly.

"Make it a 'Shirley Temple' for me and toss some vodka into it," Harley said with an unsettling giggle.

Cat turned to Lena and purred in her ear.

"Lena? What would you like?"

"Irish whiskey, straight up. Leave the bottle."

The bartender looked at his paltry selection of alcohol. It was clear that he wasn't going to be able to make the first three signature cocktails.

"Um... ma'am, I... I... don't seem to have any egg whites or peach liqueur. Can I get you something else?"

"Nix my order," Lena said. "Give us a tray of your cheapest, dirtiest, tequila shots, and keep them coming. When I say your cheapest tequila, I mean you crappiest tequila. Something that will wash away all of our memories and make us forget who we are."

The bartender's face brightened, and he sighed with relief. Lena looked to the Sirens for approval and they gave her a cheerful nod.

"You've got it! Coming right up. I know just the stuff. This tequila will kick the shit out of anything that's bothering you."