Mark kept his hand tight on her throat, his eyes widening as he stared at the woman he'd pinned—she looked like Kara, same sharp jaw, same piercing eyes, but older, maybe five or six years, her blonde hair cut shorter, framing her face, her body curvier, hips wider, breasts fuller under her tight outfit, and no pregnant belly swelling her frame. He froze, his grip steady, thinking what the fuck—Kara was back at the Watchtower, resting, not here breaking into his mom's place, and this woman stood under his hold like it was nothing, her skin warm against his fingers.
He tightened his fingers, shaking his head, and asked, "Who the hell are you?"
She smirked, pressing closer, her voice low and smooth. "I'm Galatea—never insult me again by confusing me with that child."
Mark blinked, watching her lick her lips slow, her tongue sliding over them as she leaned in, her eyes locked on his, glinting with something wild—she breathed out, "I've dreamed about this moment," her free hand twitching, reaching for his chest, brushing his bare skin, trailing down his stomach, stopping just above his pants. She tilted her head, her breath hot on his face, whispering, "I've waited so long, Mark, watched you, wanted you, thoughts of you kept me company," her voice trembling, obsessive, her body shifting closer, hips brushing his like she'd climb him right there.
He shoved her back with his grip, keeping her pinned, and said, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about or who you are."
Galatea laughed, throwing her head back, her hair bouncing—she pushed against his hand, testing his strength, and said, "I was lucky running into Harley—would've never guessed Invincible and you were the same, wouldn't have followed you here." His eyes widened at Harley's name, his mind snapping to his search for her, but she kept going, cutting him off, "She spilled it all, didn't even know what she gave me."
She pressed harder against his grip, forcing him to step back, her boots clicking on the floor—she tilted her head, her voice dropping, "It's unfair, you know, seeing that child live her perfect little life, fucking you every night, laughing with you, bearing your kids, while I rotted a mile underground, doing the humans' dirty work—fighting Viltrumites, snapping politicians' necks, choking the life out of them." She grabbed his wrist with her free hand, twisting it, pushing him back another step, her eyes burning into his, saying, "But now I'll take what I want."
He grunted, tightening his hold, leaning in, adding more strength, but she didn't budge—his arm strained, muscles flexing, and he thought, she's stronger than me, his mind reeling as she overpowered him, her grip like steel. She licked her lips again, her chest brushing his arm, her nipples hard through her suit, and said, "I'll take you, Mark—you'll fuck me, put a baby in me too, fill me up like you did her."
He shoved harder, keeping her against the wall, and said, "I'm not interested."
Her smile dropped, her face going blank for a second—then it crept back, slow and dangerous, her eyes narrowing as she said, "Then maybe we should take this to the beginning—maybe you'll change your mind if I give you a little nostalgia."
Mark frowned, loosening his grip slightly to ask what she meant—she slammed her fist down on his arm, breaking his hold, grabbed his shoulders, headbutting him hard—his nose cracked, blood gushing down his chin, splattering her face as she laughed. She reared back, punching his chest—her fist slammed into his ribs, cracking bone, sending him flying back, crashing through the bedroom wall, wood splintering, plaster exploding around him—he shot out of the building, smashing through the brick of the next one, glass shattering, concrete buckling as he tumbled through an empty office, desks snapping under him.
He twisted mid-air, blood dripping from his nose, clutching his chest, trying to right himself, grabbing at the air to slow down—Galatea streaked in, her boot slamming into his ribs again, cracking them further, blood spraying from his mouth as he rocketed backward, faster now, crashing through another building, pipes bursting, walls collapsing, papers flying as he barreled through. He hit a third structure, steel beams bending, shattering through a window—he skidded across a rooftop, rolling, blood streaking behind him, his hands clawing at the gravel to stop.
"I hate my life sometimes," he thought, coughing blood onto the tar, clutching his chest, feeling his ribs shift, sharp and grinding under his skin—Galatea landed hard in front of him, cracking the roof, her grin wide, licking his blood off her lips.
Mark scrambled to his feet on the rooftop, clutching his cracked ribs, blood dripping from his nose as Galatea stepped closer, her boots cracking the gravel. She lunged, grabbing his throat, lifting him off the ground, slamming him into a water tower, metal buckling, water gushing out around them. He swung a fist at her face. She caught it, twisting his arm, hurling him upward, sending him spinning through the Gotham skyline, wind whistling past as he crashed through a skyscraper's glass wall, papers scattering, desks snapping under him. He rolled, grabbing a civilian pinned under rubble, shoving it off, pulling her free, shouting, "Run!" before Galatea streaked in, grabbing his hair, yanking him back, saying, "Pay attention," and slammed him down through the floor, concrete shattering, dropping him into the street below.
He hit the pavement, cracking it, coughing blood. Galatea landed, stomping his chest, forcing air out of his lungs. He grabbed her leg, twisting, throwing her off, rolling to his feet. She charged, her fist smashing his jaw, snapping his head back, blood spraying, and she kicked his stomach, sending him flying into a warehouse, steel walls bending, crates exploding around him. He pushed up, dodging as her eyes glowed red, heat vision blasting through, melting metal beams. He flew at her, tackling her through the wall, grappling mid-air, her hands clawing his back, tearing his skin as they shot across the city.
They crashed through an office building, glass raining down, civilians ducking under desks. Mark broke free, grabbing a man about to fall through a shattered window, shoving him to safety, turning just as Galatea grabbed his neck, lifting him, throwing him upward. He smashed through the ceiling, floors collapsing under him, bursting out the top, spinning into the sky. She flew up, catching him, slamming her knee into his ribs, cracking them further. He grunted, blood dripping from his mouth, grabbing her shoulders, headbutting her. She laughed, licking her lips, saying, "Hit me harder," her voice thick, her body pressing closer, turned on by the fight.
Mark gritted his teeth, swinging a fist into her stomach. She gasped, doubling over, and he followed with a knee to her chest, knocking her upward, then grabbed her arm, spinning, slamming his elbow into her jaw, snapping her head back. Blood sprayed from her lip, and he punched her face, launching her away. She tumbled through the air, crashing into a billboard, metal twisting, her body shuddering as she gripped the edge, moaning, "Oh yes," her eyes fluttering, shivering as she came, blood trickling down her chin.
He panted, wiping blood from his eyes, saying, 'Gotta get her outta here.' He flew at her, tackling her hard, wrapping his arms around her waist, pushing them both westward, away from Gotham's lights. She twisted in his grip, breaking free, grabbing his leg, hurling him downward. He crashed through a factory roof, steel beams snapping, machinery exploding around him. He rolled, dodging as she landed, stomping where he'd been, cracking the floor. She swung a fist, he ducked, grabbing her arm, throwing her into a wall, concrete crumbling.
She bounced back, slamming into him, sending them both through the factory's side, tumbling into an empty lot. Dirt flew as he hit the ground, skidding, blood streaking behind him. She straddled him, pinning his arms, grinning, saying, "Come on, harder," her hips grinding against his, her breath ragged. He bucked her off, rolling to his feet, swinging a punch. She blocked, kicking his knee, buckling it. He dropped, catching himself, launching upward, slamming his shoulder into her chest, knocking her back. She flew into a rusted silo, denting it, laughing as she stood, brushing dust off, her eyes glowing red again, saying, "More."
Mark darted forward, grabbing her, flying them higher, pushing past the city limits. She clawed his face, drawing blood, breaking free, grabbing his throat, hurling him into a grain elevator. Wood splintered, grain pouring out as he crashed through. He twisted, landing on his feet, dodging as she flew in, her heat vision slicing the ground. He tackled her again, driving them both through a barn, hay bursting around them, wood snapping. She punched his ribs, cracking them more, sending him spinning into a field. He hit the dirt, rolling, blood soaking the soil.
He pushed up, panting, watching as she landed, walking toward him, licking blood off her fingers, saying, "You're making this fun." He charged, swinging a combo, fist to her stomach, knee to her side, elbow to her jaw. Blood sprayed, she staggered, moaning, "Yes, yes," her body trembling as she grabbed his arm, twisting it, kicking his chest.
He flew back, crashing into a tree, bark splintering, falling to his knees, spitting blood as she stepped closer, grinning, her eyes wild, saying, "i hope you're not finished yet because I'm just getting started."
Galatea stood over him, grinning, her eyes wild, stepping closer, saying, "I've never felt so alive before, it feels like my blood's on fire." She ran her hands up her body, fingers sliding over her chest, brushing her breasts, then dipping down to her crotch, pressing against the tight fabric, moaning, "I'm so wet, none of the insects on this planet have come close to making me feel this."
'This bitch is crazy,' Mark thought, pushing up to his knees, wiping blood from his chin. He figured he'd need to fight smarter to win this, and actually considered calling for backup, but shook it off. If he did, she might bolt, and he'd lose the lead on Harley. Sure he could track her down eventually, but who knew how long that'd take, and he needed answers now.
He stood straight, rolling his shoulders, and said, "If you want a fight, you'll get one, don't complain if you get hurt, or if I accidentally kill you."
Galatea shivered, her body trembling as a mini-orgasm hit her at his words. She licked her lips, shouting, "Show me!"
She flew at him, streaking through the air. Mark launched forward, meeting her head-on, their fists colliding mid-flight, shockwave ripping through the countryside, trees bending, dirt flying as they grappled, tumbling into a forest. He swung a punch at her jaw, weighting his fist with gravity, cracking bone, blood spraying. She grabbed his arm, hurling him through a line of pines, trunks snapping, splintering. He twisted mid-air, landing on his feet, charging back, slamming his shoulder into her chest, knocking her into a tree, bark shattering. She laughed, swinging a fist at his face. He ducked, snapping a blue sphere behind her, pulling her backward into the trunk, then followed with a heavier punch to her gut, blood spurting as she doubled over.
She sprang up, tackling him through the forest floor, dirt flying as they rolled. He broke free, grabbing her throat, slamming her down, weighting his elbow as he drove it into her cheek, splitting skin, blood gushing. She kicked his stomach, sending him crashing into a hillside, rocks crumbling. He pushed up, flying at her, swinging a fist at her nose, cracking it, blood streaming. She blasted heat vision, searing his arm. He grunted, forming a small red sphere in his palm, shoving it into her chest, the burst knocking her back into the slope, dust rising as he dove in, punching her jaw again, a tooth flying.
They burst out, grappling upward, her fist smashing his ribs, cracking more bones. He twisted, wrapping his arms around her waist, increasing gravity to slam her into a mountain ridge, peak shattering, boulders tumbling. She emerged, laughing, blood dripping from her mouth, charging him. He met her mid-air, swinging a heavier fist into her side, ribs snapping, blood spraying as she moaned, grabbing his throat, hurling him through a forest canopy. He hit the ground, rolling, springing up to tackle her legs, bringing her down, slamming a weighted knee into her stomach, blood spurting as she gasped.
She froze his arm with her breath, ice creeping over his skin, then kicked his chest, sending him spinning into a valley, cratering the dirt. He stood, wiping blood from his eyes, grinning, starting to enjoy it, charging her again. She flew at him, punching his face, splitting his lip. He swung back, weighting his fist, cracking her jaw, blood gushing. She blasted heat vision point-blank. He dodged, forming a small blue sphere above her head, pulling her upward, then slammed a heavier elbow into her chest, knocking her into a lake, water exploding upward. He dove after her, grabbing her arm, twisting it behind her back, driving a weighted fist into her spine, bone crunching as she screamed, laughing through it.
She broke free, slamming into him, sending them crashing through the lakebed, mud flying. He twisted, wrapping his legs around her waist, flipping them, pinning her down, swinging a heavier fist into her nose, blood spraying as she moaned, "Harder!" She kicked him off, flying upward, her fist cracking his cheek, blood streaming. He grabbed her leg, hurling her into a mountainside, rock shattering, then flew in, forming a red sphere in his hand, pressing it against her stomach, the burst sending her tumbling through the peak, debris raining. She emerged, blood streaking her face, grinning, saying, "You're perfect," and tackled him again, their fists meeting mid-air, shockwave leveling the forest below.
He broke her grip, swinging a weighted punch at her gut, blood spurting, then snapped a blue sphere to her side, pulling her into his knee, cracking more ribs. She froze his shoulder with her breath, then punched his chest, sending him crashing into a tree, bark splintering. He pushed up, charging, slamming a heavier fist into her jaw, teeth flying as she staggered, moaning, "Yes! Yes!!!!" her body trembling. She grabbed his arm, twisting it, kicking his stomach, sending him flying into a hillside. He burst out, tackling her into the air, their clash cracking the sky, blood and spit flying as they kept going.
He grappled with Galatea, swinging a weighted fist at her jaw, blood spraying as she laughed, grabbing his arm, twisting it back—she reared back, slamming a punch into his chest, cracking ribs, following with a knee to his gut, then an uppercut to his chin, each hit landing fast and hard, sending him rocketing upward through the sky, clouds parting, air thinning as he broke through the atmosphere, tumbling into the black void of space, stars spinning around him. She streaked after him, catching up, grabbing his throat, slamming her fist into his face, blood floating in droplets as they floated around them.
He twisted, wrapping his legs around her waist, forming a blue sphere behind her, pulling her hands tight behind her back, locking them in place—she struggled, grinning, as he unleashed a barrage, fists and elbows flying in a blur, striking her torso, stomach, ribs, chest, then her face, hitting her nose, jaw, cheeks, each punch snapping out at rapid speeds, blood spraying in globules around them. She took the hits, her body jerking with each strike, bruises blooming, lip splitting, nose breaking, but slowly her head stopped shifting, punches landing with less force—she smiled, dangerous and wide, blood dripping from her mouth, eyes glinting.
Mark frowned, muttering, "What the hell," then turned, seeing the sun blazing behind them, its light bathing her. "Shit," he said, as she flexed, ripping free of the blue sphere, slamming her fist into his chest, sending him hurtling through space, stars blurring past. She flew after him, punching his stomach, then his jaw, then his ribs, keeping him spinning, momentum building with every hit—her suit tore at the shoulder, fabric shredding, his own armor ripping at the chest, cracks spidering across it.
[Structural integrity of your armor at 70 percent,] Eves voice chimed in his head.
He growled, catching her fists mid-punch, twisting her arms, spinning her around, planting his foot in her stomach, kicking hard—she flew back, blood trailing, but he threw his hand out, using gravity, pulling her back to him, slamming a weighted fist into her gut, blood spurting as she gasped, laughing, saying, "Enjoying this, Mark? So much better than that stupid little girl."
[Armor integrity at 50 percent.]
She swung a fist at his face—he ducked, grabbing her arm, twisting it behind her, slamming an elbow into her spine, bone crunching—she moaned, "Yes, more," breaking free, punching his cheek, blood spraying, tearing his sleeve clean off. He concentrated, forming a red sphere, shaping it around his arms like glowing armor, hardening his fists—he swung, hitting her jaw, cracking it, blood gushing, then her chest, ribs snapping, each punch landing harder, faster, her body jerking with every blow, bruises spreading, blood floating in clouds around them.
She laughed, loving it, grabbing his throat, slamming her knee into his stomach—he grunted, swinging a red-armored fist into her side, shattering more ribs, sending her spinning. They hurtled back toward Earth, flames igniting over them as they punched through the atmosphere, heat searing their skin—her suit shredded completely, his armor cracking apart, falling away in burning chunks. She fired heat vision, beams slicing toward his face—he threw his hand up, blocking it, the light burning his palm, skin blistering, blood sizzling as he gritted his teeth, pushing through.
[Armor integrity at 10 percent—critical damage sustained.]
He swung a red-armored fist at her nose, breaking it again, blood streaming—she twisted mid-fall, flipping their positions, slamming him downward as they crashed into the Nevada desert, impact cratering the sand a mile wide, shockwave flattening dunes, dust billowing. Smoke cleared, revealing them naked in the center, Galatea on top, straddling him, her battered body dripping blood, bruises covering her torso, face swollen, lip split, nose crooked, but she smiled, wild and unbroken, staring down at him, her chest heaving, blood pooling between them on his chest, mixing with his own cuts and burns as he lay there, panting, ribs screaming, hand still smoking from the heat vision, their shredded clothes scattered in the sand around the crater's edge.
Mark lay in the crater, sand sticking to his blood-slick skin, Galatea straddling him, her battered body dripping blood onto his chest as she grinned down, saying, "It was even better than I could've hoped," shifting her hips, grinding against him, her wetness rubbing over his groin. She leaned closer, her voice low, panting, "You're so strong, Mark, the only one for me, no one else gets to have you, ever," sliding her vagina along his dick, pressing harder, her breath hitching as she felt him stiffen beneath her—his cock twitched, growing hard, pulsing against her slick folds.
He laughed, hoarse and sharp, saying, "You're one crazy bitch," struggling to shove down the heat rising in his gut—the Viltrumite in him roared to take her, pin her down, fuck her raw, and the human part wasn't far behind, urging him on as he stared at her face, so like Kara's, just older, sharper, her breasts bigger, hips wider, though her wild eyes screamed instability, not that it mattered much when half the people he knew were just as unhinged.
He grabbed her throat, fingers clamping tight—she shuddered, a soft "Nngh" slipping from her lips, her body trembling over him as her eyes fluttered. "Are you done?" he asked, squeezing harder, his voice rough.
"Never," she said, grabbing his hand, sucking his thumb into her mouth, tongue swirling around it, moaning, "Mmmph, I won't stop till I've—" before she finished, he cut her off, flipping her over, sand puffing around them as he pinned her beneath him, his grip shifting to her hips, lining up his cock, thrusting in hard—her hymen tore, blood mixing with her wetness, the ground cracking wider under the force as she screamed, "AAHHH!" her body convulsing, the most intense orgasm she'd ever had ripping through her, legs shaking, eyes rolling back.
He fucked her rough, grabbing her waist, slamming his hips forward, cock driving deep, her walls clenching around him—she went wild, moaning, "OHHH, YESSS!" orgasming again and again, her body jerking with each thrust, his dick filling her completely, stretching her tight, hot core. He grunted, feeling her squeeze him, so like Kara but tighter, slicker, her insides gripping him as he pounded harder—she arched, breasts rocking with every slam, nipples hard, her voice breaking as she screamed, "This is what I've needed, keep fucking me, it feels amazing, no one else could ever come close to you, FUCK ME, MARK!" her hands clawing the sand, body bowing under him, sweat and blood streaking her skin.
He thrust faster, grunting, "Hngh," his hands sliding up, gripping her breasts, twisting her nipples—she shrieked, "AAAH, YES!" pleasure spiking as bruises bloomed under his fingers, his strength bruising her hips, her thighs, more than he'd ever dare with Kara or Raven, her flesh yielding under his Viltrumite force. She shouted, "Abuse me, take me, breed me, FUCK ME HARDER!" her voice raw, hips bucking to meet him, her walls tightening, pulsing around his cock as she came again, "OHHHH!" her screams echoing across the desert, sand shifting beneath them.
He growled, moving faster, hips slapping against hers, skin smacking skin, her tightness squeezing him, pushing him close—his hands dug into her flesh, leaving purple marks, twisting her nipples harder as she writhed, screaming, "YES, YES, DO IT!" her legs wrapping around his waist, locking him in, refusing to let him pull out. He thrust deeper, grunting, "Ungh," feeling his cock throb, release building—she came again, "AAHHH!" her vagina contracting, clamping down hard, milking him, and he couldn't hold back, cumming inside her, thick spurts flooding her womb, hot and heavy, pulsing as he emptied into her, her walls sucking him dry, her body shuddering under the wave of it, "OHHHH, FUCK YES!" her moans ragged, legs trembling, tightening around him as his cum filled her, leaking out around his cock, mixing with her blood and wetness in the sand.
He panted, chest heaving, looking down at her—her face battered, swollen, blood crusted on her lip, bruises spreading across her torso, but her eyes burned, locked on his, alive with that dangerous grin. "Are you done?" he asked, voice gravelly, wiping sweat from his brow.
She licked her lips, smiling wider, sharp and unhinged, her body still twitching beneath him, his cum dripping from her as she stared up. "Never..." she replied.
...
Mark stood in the sand, tapping his earpiece, speaking to Superman on the call, saying, "It was just a scuffle, don't worry, yeah the damage wasn't too bad, I'll drop by Gotham later and help with the cleanup, yeah they got away," lying smooth and quick, rubbing his neck as he added, "I don't need any help, I'm good." Superman grunted something about checking in later, and Mark said, "Bye," ending the call, dropping his hand, sighing deep, looking down at Galatea kneeling in front of him, her lips wrapped around his cock, sucking hard, taking it deep like it was her last meal.
She bobbed her head, throat tightening around him, slurping loud, "Glk, glk," spit dripping down her chin as she forced it further, hands grabbing his ass, pulling him in, choking herself, "Grrk!" her eyes watering but locked on his, wild and hungry. He groaned, "Hngh," his hands flexing at his sides, her tongue swirling around the head, then plunging back down, gagging, "Guhk!" as she buried her nose against him, throat spasming. He groaned louder, "Ungh," feeling his dick twitch, pulsing in her mouth—she sensed it, pulling back slow, looking up with a sultry grin, pumping his cock fast with her hand, sticking her tongue out flat, waiting.
He tensed, grunting, "Ngh," cumming hard, thick ropes shooting out, splattering her face—first hit streaking across her cheek, second landing on her tongue, third dripping down her chin, fourth catching her forehead, pooling in the hollows of her bruises, mixing with dried blood as she kept stroking, milking every drop. She licked her lips, scooping it with her fingers, sucking them clean, moaning, "Mmm, delicious," swallowing it down, her voice hoarse from the choking.
This was the ninth time he'd cum—since they crashed here, they'd fucked eight times, her taking it in every hole, mouth, pussy, ass, over and over, insatiable, begging for it rough, screaming when he slammed her into the sand, bruising her hips, twisting her nipples until she came, "AAHHH!" again and again, her body shuddering under him, loving every second of the pain and pleasure.
She stood, pressing her naked body against his, breasts squashing into his chest—he pushed her back, hands firm on her shoulders, which only made her grin wider, eyes flashing with excitement. "Enough," he said, stepping away, crossing his arms, "No more games, I have questions, you're going to answer."
"Why don't you make me," she said, spreading her legs, sitting on a large boulder, sliding a hand between her thighs, teasing herself, cum still leaking from her pussy.
He frowned, staring her down, saying, "Answer, or I'll leave," guessing indifference might crack her where force wouldn't.
She frowned back, closing her legs, muttering, "Fine, what do you want to know?"
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, keeping his voice flat.
She smiled, tilting her head, saying, "I told you, I'm Galatea."
He rolled his eyes, "I know that, why do you look exactly like Kara?"
"I like to think I don't look exactly like her," she said, cupping her breasts, smirking—he stayed straight-faced, and she sighed, dropping her hands, explaining, "I'm a clone of Supergirl, made by Cadmus to do their dirty work, to be a weapon against the Justice League if they ever threatened Earth."
He nodded, thinking it over, asking Eve in his head, 'Got anything on Cadmus?'
[Searching now,] Eve replied, pausing, then adding, [It's a secret division of the United States government, tasked with understanding the metahuman phenomenon, creating beings to maintain control.]
He nodded again, saying, "I'm guessing you escaped."
Galatea leaned back, nodding lazy, "Viltrumites found the base where the head of our project was, I blew it up with a missile—killing Waller was the most satisfying moment of my life, at least before now," eyeing him with a grin.
He rolled his eyes, "That doesn't explain how you know me."
She shrugged, stretching her arms, "It came in flashes at night, eventually I started seeing Supergirl's memories, feeling what she felt—I expect she felt the same."
"She never said," he muttered, rubbing his jaw.
"I'm not surprised," Galatea laughed, "The things I got up to, she'd probably think she was going crazy."
He sighed, stepping closer, "Now tell me, where's Harley?"
She smiled, spreading her legs again, using her fingers to spread her pussy, cum dripping onto the boulder, "Why, wasn't this enough for you?"
"Tell me," he said, voice hard with warning.
Her smile fell, "Drain your balls inside me and already looking for another woman."
"Galatea!" he snapped.
She laughed, "She's at my penthouse in Gotham, with a redhead called Samantha, an Asian girl called Cassandra, and a small child called Lucy."
His body froze, eyes narrowing, "Did you say a small child, how old?"
"Not sure," she said, picking at her nails, "Can't be older than a few months."
"Whose baby is it?" he asked, grabbing her shoulders, gripping tight.
"Harley's, from what they said," she replied, shrugging him off.
Relief flooded through him, chest loosening, but guilt followed fast—he'd been dodging Harley, dreading her yelling, avoiding the mess with Kara and Raven, hoping to leave that fling behind, selfish and stupid now that he knew she'd been pregnant, alone, raising a kid that might be his. He shoved the guilt down, focusing, feeling the pieces slide into place—Harley was close, he had a lead, all that remained was the Viltrumites, still hunting Kara, he had to keep her safe until the baby came, then she could fight, they could hide.
Galatea rubbed her stomach, saying, "I hope my child comes just as quick."
He ignored her, staring hard, thinking fast, then said, "I want to make a deal with you," stepping closer, locking eyes, knowing it was crazy but needing to try.
(AN: So Mark has finally met crazy Kara. You know i was very tempted to name this chapter Biological Imperative 2: Electric Boogaloo. But this ain't a crack fic though I doubt myself with that sometimes. Anyway next chapter we have the long awaited Harley and Mark reunion. Will there be sex? Maybe. Will there be violence. You're goddamn right. Anyway I hope you enjoyed the chapter.)
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