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dinah lance

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This is a totally logical and sensible way to do things. Shut up.

The way is: Dinah has a whole list of cities and places she wants to visit, including all over the United States; California, Pennsylvania, even Kansas, as she hasn't yet thoroughly investigated Keystone City.

She's starting in Greece.

This is, she claimed, because it's her vacation and she's always wanted to vacation in Europe and soak up the Mediterranean sun. But it's really because she's much less worried and apprehensive about what she'll find on Themiscyra than, for example, Star City, California. She hasn't even decided what she wants to find, but she can handle not finding it better if she starts with the Amazons.

Zinda's gone off to look at Egypt, after dropping Dinah off at an abandoned airfield. For some reason island-hopping on her own in a tiny plane is easier than admitting to Lady Blackhawk she doesn't know exactly which island is which on this world. Also, it feels more like a vacation.

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It is, indeed. Not that they couldn't go back to the airfield, of course.

Indy makes a non-committal sound. She's in charge.

As long as he realises that.

The house has little in the way of food, but it does have beds. Well. A bed.

Not that they need anything else, really. Great minds do think alike.

Indy pushes open the door, which is hanging slightly on it's hinges, and sticks his head inside.

"Seems safe," he says.

Dinah turns back from checking the outside, and follows suit on the inside.

"Good."

Then she grabs his shirt and pulls him towards her.

Indy looks startled for a moment, then grins at her.

"You want something?"

"You don't?"

"Touché," he allows, before leaning in for the kiss he hopes the both want.

Yeah, that's right. And a relief, as well.

Dinah rises up on her toes and wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself to him rather than him down.

Ever the practical man, Indy picks her up, and sets her on a convenient piece of furniture, so that neither of them has to get a stiff neck.

As he does so, her legs wrap around him, ridiculously powerful muscles doing nothing other than holding her in place.

Considering how forceful she's been all day, she's quite willing to let him take the lead now.

He appreciates it, just as he appreciates quite how thin her catsuit is. Her sudden change of character is a little startling though - he'd half expected her to pick him up and carry him to a bed somewhere.

If there's one thing you learn from doing this with men (not many men, but Ollie counts for a lot) who know you can kill them with your pinky, you learn that sometimes the male ego needs a boost. And there's few ways to do that as mutually beneficial as sitting against his hands and resting her own just under the brin of his hat.

It works. And she has a very, very nice ass, as his hands are discovering. Indy kisses like he does everything else - impulsively, and with full attention.

Though the temptation to take his hat off is great, Dinah decides that she'll just wait til it falls. Instead she runs her hands down to his shoulders and tightens her legs against him still.

Although she does pull away thoughtfully after a while.

"Hang on," she says, hands going to her ears, where she detaches two bird shaped gold earrings.

Indy has been known to keep his hat on, even whilst otherwise naked.

He takes the opportunity, while her hands are otherwise occupied, to slide his own hands down over her shoulders, giving in to the temptation to see if her breasts can actually be that cartoon-perfect.

There, he'll discover, her bodysuit isn't thin at all. It's actually reinforced with Kevlar, and the shape is at least partly artificial as bulletproofing meets support in a way that does little for the natural look and even less for the feel.

Fortunately, the zipper of the outfit is very clearly marked with a big gold ring at her throat.

Dinah drops the earrings in a conveniently nearby dish, noting their location as the most precious things she owns.

She wants to be there when Babs find out who she's about to sleep with.

"This costume," Indy observes, "has got to go."

z-i-i-i-i-i-i-p

Dinah fulfils all the requisite get-the-arms-out movements like a pro, before turning her attention right back to him.

Shirts are fiddly when you don't want to tear buttons, but she's happy to take it slow.

Indy would really rather appreciate it if she didn't destroy his shirt, it's the only one he has. (He has been wearing it for a few days, though, so she might want to render it unwearable and force him to get a clean one.)

Her breasts, freed from the confines of the armoured suit - really are, yes, quite impressive. Indy is well pleased with them.

Dinah is pleased that Indy's pleased with them, yep.

She frees the shirt and settles into mutual chest appreciation. And shoulders, he has nice shoulders. As her soft hums of appreciation might suggest.

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