Superheroine Council HQ, Laboratory Alpha, one week later...

"Hey, boss, I found a discrepancy with the inventory," the junior tech says.

She stands on the other side of a workbench from La Profesora, her senior in rank, knowledge, and experience.

La Profesora moves her microscoping goggles from over her eyes up to the top of her head, and then looks up at her employee. On the table before her sits one of several projects she is working on, along with various tools and instruments of her own design and construction.

"What's the problem?"

"In the storage room, we have a space and a label for an item. But the space is empty. In the database, there's no entry for that label. I checked the purged file, too. Still no entry."

"What's the item?"

"I don't know. There's no description on the label. Just the inventory tag: SSMM4691. Do you know what that is?"

"Yes, I do," La Profesora says through a grimace. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll investigate it and resolve the discrepancy."

"Oh, okay," the tech says.

She wonders what the item is and why a senior level scientist on the Council feels the need to personally investigate it. But, she has other tasks to complete. Idle musings won't get them finished any faster. So, she sets aside her curiosity and gets back to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Naz's flat, after hours...

Two large bags of groceries fill Naz's arms. Thus, she nudges her front door open with her knee. She walks inside and closes the door with her hip. Using each foot as resistance for the other, she pulls off her shoes without needing to put down the bags. Then, she walks into the kitchen to unload.

As she puts the groceries down on the counter, she starts to call out to Belladonna Deeproot. But then, she thinks better of it. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the device--the one piece of superheroine equipment she carries with her when off duty. Even as she does, she notices the open windows.

The device confirms that trace levels of pheromones are still in the room.

"Seriously?" she thinks with growing annoyance. "Didn't we go over all of this? Amy was fun, and I even agreed she can come back. But not as a surprise. Not unless I'm ready, and we're extra careful. So, what's going on? What is Bella up to?"

She walks into the living room, purposefully looking down as she goes because she doesn't want to see anyone there. She doesn't want to be surprised. She doesn't want to be angry with Belladonna.

Scrunching her toes into the soft fibers of the carpet, she takes a deep breath and holds it. Nothing is wrong. There is no surprise. There is a legitimate reason why Belladonna used her pheromones. Everything is okay.

She relaxes her toes, her lungs, and her mind. Then, she looks up.

"No! No, no, no! Bella!"

Not waiting for a response, she moves quickly to the corner of the room, to the reclined lounger, to the woman occupying it.

The woman has dark, wavy hair, pulled back into a tight, professional ponytail. She has a pretty face, tan and unblemished. She wears a black and red bodysuit very much reminiscent of Vine's own superheroine outfit. Strikingly absent from her attire are gloves, a utility belt, footwear, and--most noticeable of all--a pair of technologically advanced goggles.

Elongated, prehensile vines bind her to the chair, wrapping several times around her forehead and many more times around her torso and limbs. Unlike Amy before her, she struggles intently against her bonds. She squirms, pushes, strains, and kicks with her bare feet. But the living restraints are too strong, and she has no leverage against them.

She also tries to speak--and were she able to, she would likely yell and cuss, as is her nature when angered. But broad, thick leaves cover her mouth, allowing only muffled grunts and groans to escape her lips.

Naz stares dumbstruck at her friend and colleague, La Profesora. Why is she here? Why did Belladonna do this to her? How will this possibly end without one semi-reformed villainess and one very foolish superheroine serving ten-to-life?

"Profesora, listen, I am so sorry! This is all a mistake. I'm going to fix it. I'm going to take care of it. Here, let me..."

She pries the leaves away from La Profesora's mouth.

"What the hell, Vine?"

The question precedes a violent outburst of cuss words in Spanish.

"I know, I know," Naz says, as placatingly as she can. "This is bad. But, like I said, I'll fix it. I will! I promise! Just tell me, why did you come over without letting me know first?"

"Because I'm investigating a missing piece of equipment," La Profesora says, still seething with anger, but calmer now. "Fourteen people at HQ have access to the inventory database. Eight of them have the computer skills to hack it and cover their tracks. You're one of them. Oh, I knew you weren't the guilty party. But, I still had to check. I had to check without you knowing, just in case I was wrong."

Naz sighs. La Profesora glares at her.

"It was you, wasn't it? You are guilty. Belladonna Deeproot got to you, didn't she? She brainwashed you. Again."

"She didn't get to me. I'm not brainwashed."

"Of course you are. That's the only reason you would steal valuable equipment and let this happen to me."

"No, Profesora. I'm in my right mind. I have your chemical detector, and I use it all the time. Belladonna hasn't used her pheromones on me. Not once. In fact, when she used them on you earlier, she opened windows to make sure they would dissipate and not affect me."

"Indeed I did, darling."

Whirling around, Naz sees Belladonna leaning casually against the far wall. The ginger beauty wears the sheer robe she loves so much, though it is open in the front and reveals everything that even a slightly modest person would want not to expose. She absently brushes her bare soles over the luxurious carpet and smiles warmly at her roommate/lover/benefactor.

"Enough with the 'darling,' okay?" Naz says. "It's not helpful right now."

"Too bad. You know how much I like to be helpful."

"I know. And there is something you can do for me. Would you bring me the toy, please?"

Belladonna nods and leaves the room. Naz turns back to La Profesora, who continues to glare at her.

"So, you're not brainwashed? You're in your right mind? That's even worse. It means you've knowingly engaged in criminal activity. You've stolen Council property. You're harboring a known fugitive. Is this how you want your career to end? Humiliated? Ridiculed? Expelled from the Council? Thrown in jail for aiding and abetting?"

"It's okay. I'm going to fix this."

"This isn't fixable!"

"Yeah, it is."

"Here you are, darling," Belladonna says from the doorway.

La Profesora peers past Naz to see what the villainess is holding. She recognizes the object. And she knows all too well what SSMM4691 is.

"You're wrong, Vine, you have been brainwashed," La Profesora says, sympathy softening her ire. "She has you under her spell. You're just so deep under, you don't even realize it. This is the same thing she did to you before. Maybe that made it easier for her to do it again. Though maybe this time, she didn't use her pheromones."

"You're the one who's wrong, Profesora," Naz says, shaking her head in punctuation of the point. "I assure you, I haven't been brainwashed. Quite the opposite. I brainwashed her."

"What?"

"I used SSMM4691 on her. Severna Strickland and Ms. Mesmer know their craft, and their portable brainwasher works well. I didn't make Belladonna into a mindless slave or anything. I just conditioned her to no longer want to commit crimes, to never use her pheromones on me without my permission, and...a few other things. Like I said before, I'm careful. I check her pheromone usage regularly. And I occasionally run her through another cycle to make sure the conditioning sticks. She doesn't even mind it."

"Of course she doesn't. You have her thinking that thing is a toy. But the question is, why? Why are you doing any of this?"

"I have my reasons."

"You have your reasons? Do those reasons have anything to do with you wanting a naked, mind-controlled hussy walking around your flat? Are you banging her? Of course you are. It's obvious. She doesn't just think that thing is a toy. She thinks it's a sex toy. What the hell is wrong with you, Vine?"

Naz looks away sheepishly, but only for a moment. When she meets La Profesora's gaze again, her eyes are sharp with righteousness.

"You're not my judge, jury, or executioner, Profesora. Think what you want about me, but don't expect me to care. I'm sorry that you got caught up in this. I don't want you to get hurt or be in any danger. But, I also need to protect myself. So, it's time to fix this."

"How? By having your sex slave brainwash me?"

"No, by doing it myself. Bella, please bring me the toy."

"Ooh, it's going to be sexy-fun-time for La Profesora," Belladonna says, as she walks over to Naz. "May I do the honors?"

"Sure thing," Naz says, her steely gaze still challenging La Profesora's. "Lowest setting, please. I just want her to forget what's happened here, not have her brain scrambled."

"As you wish."

Belladonna moves behind the captive heroine and carefully places the portable brainwasher upon her head. It fits snugly, like a metallic version of a knitted cap. Once it is in place, Belladonna turns it on at the lowest setting.

Immediately, La Profesora gasps and begins to tremble. Belladonna eyes her lustfully. Naz watches her carefully, and, after several seconds begins to speak to her in a calm, reassuring voice.

"Relax, Profesora. Don't fight it. Relax."

Naz frowns, as she watches her friend continue to struggle against the power of the machine. If she doesn't yield soon, Naz knows, the process will become painful and possibly harmful.

"Go one setting higher, please."

Belladonna increases the setting. La Profesora's eyes grow wide, and her trembling intensifies.

"Relax," Naz says again.

This higher setting proves too much for even La Profesora's considerable will. She relaxes. Her expression softens. Her eyes glaze over. Her trembling stops.

"Good girl. Now, listen carefully. When I release you, you won't be angry or upset. You will simply desire to leave, go home, and go to sleep. When you wake up from that sleep, you will feel refreshed and happy. You will have no memory of anything that has happened in my flat today. Instead, you will remember finding no evidence that I have the SSMM4691. That will confirm your earlier opinion that I am innocent. Now, repeat back what I've told you in your own words, to show me that you understand."

In a slow, sleepy, unconcerned voice, La Profesora repeats back her instructions. Naz sighs in relief.

"Bella, please turn off the machine and release her."

"Oh, if I must. But I'd rather watch her struggle some more. Her feet are adorable, and when they thrash and kick like that--mm! So enticing!"

Despite bemoaning the requests, Belladonna carries them out. Once La Profesora is free, she gets up from the lounger. For a moment, she appears disoriented. But she soon shakes it off and begins walking out of the room.

"Are you okay?" Naz asks.

"Yeah...I'm just tired. I want to go home and go to sleep."

Not seeming to care at all about the other two people in the flat, La Profesora heads towards the front door. A moment later, she is gone.

"Whew! Crisis averted," Naz says.

"Yes, but also, opportunity missed."

"How so?"

"You just had a gorgeous, sexy woman completely under your control, and all you had her do was forget some boring information. Why not have some fun with her, as well? Can you imagine how amazing she might have been at massaging, worshipping, tickling, kissing, and marathon sex? I think you can imagine. I know I can."

"Bella, I did what I had to do to protect us. But, La Profesora is my friend. Sure, I find her attractive--okay, more than attractive. I think she's very sexy. But desiring her doesn't make it right to take advantage of her. I feel bad enough messing with her mind as much as I did. There's no way I'd go any further just to get my kicks."

"Yes, yes, fine, fine. You are a superheroine after all, so I need to temper my expectations of what you're willing to do."

"That is a good idea."

"Still, I'm all worked up now. And, I must admit, jealous, too. La Profesora got all of the attention today. Now, I'd like some."

"Is that so? What kind of attention would you like?"

"I'd like you to play with me the same way you played with her," Belladonna says, licking her lips in anticipation. "You know, using the toy."

Naz smiles and gazes longingly at her near-naked lover. Playing with Belladonna's gorgeous body and controllable mind would be heaven.

And yet, something bothers her. She hears La Profesora's voice inside her mind, asking in a morally authoritative and fun spoiling way, If letting me go without taking advantage of me was the right thing to do, why is it okay to act differently towards Belladonna Deeproot?

Her smile fades. Belladonna tries to catch her eye, but she avoids looking there.

She suddenly needs to answer that question for herself: Why was it okay to brainwash Belladonna? She isn't offering the villainess counseling, therapy, or rehabilitation, as La Profesora had tried to do. No, she is controlling the woman's mind, if only subtly, for her own selfish purposes.

Finally, after an interminable several seconds of introspection, Naz comes up with an answer: It was okay to brainwash Belladonna because turnabout is fair play. Belladonna brainwashed her in the past--not subtly, but wholly and completely. She spent several months as the woman's mindless slave, living only to serve, obey, and submit.

It isn't that two wrongs make a right. But for Naz, this turnabout does seem fair. She can live with this justification. Neither La Profesora, nor any other superheroine has a say in the matter. Naz wants to be happy. And this makes her happy. It makes Belladonna happy, too. This is the way it is, and this is how it will remain.

Now, Naz looks Belladonna in the eye. She blows a seductive kiss and receives back a lewdly inviting gesture that instantly arouses her.

"All right, darling," Naz says, emphasizing the endearment that her lover always uses, "bring yourself and the toy to the bedroom. We have a long, steamy, sexy, orgasmic evening ahead of us."