Back in Geoff's penthouse suite, as if an answer to his question, the supernatural villainess, Gale, was seated on his bed.

She smoothed her bodystocking around her legs, then attached the thigh holster that held her nickel-plated pistol like hosiery to a garter belt. It was as if Gale was preparing for a night out, not a high-stakes infiltration. Her fiery red pigtails swayed gently as she moved, the ends brushing against the curve of her bosom.

Her phone rang again, the screen displaying 'François' once more. Gale answered, putting it on speaker as she finished dressing, "Yes, François?"

François' voice was smooth, almost too smooth, like velvet rubbed against the grain. "Gale, my dear, I trust you are ready?" he asked.

Gale picked up her silver gloves, slipping them on one finger at a time. "Not just ready, François, but already finished." Gale answered, her voice laced with a hint of mockery. She stood up, her curvy figure accentuated by the form-fitting teal bodystocking and navy-blue combat leotard. She adjusted her blue gingham scarf, tying it loosely around her neck.

"Already?" François sounded genuinely surprised. "That was... quick."

Gale smirked, "When you have my skills, darling, 'quick' is just another word for 'elegant,'" she replied as she walked towards the expansive window, looking out at the Los Angeles skyline. "Never doubt me François. I am the master of my domain, and I will not be bested by some overgrown boy scout and his pet scientist."

"Oui, I had little doubt, Ma Chèrie." François conceded, a hint of admiration in his voice. "However, the mere thought of that, how you say, 'boy scout,' touching that heavenly body of yours, it makes me... jealous, Gale. I want to be the one to defile that temple of sin."

Gale chuckled, a low, sultry sound that seemed to echo through the penthouse. "Always so dramatic, Mon Cher. You know I'm not one for monogamy, especially when it comes to business. Besides, Art-Man® was the perfect gentleman..."

***

The previous evening...

Gale sashayed into the lobby of the Jonas Plaza Suites, her silver ankle boots clicking on the polished marble floor. She approached the concierge desk, her hips swaying with a predatory grace. The young man behind the counter, barely out of his teens, swallowed hard as she leaned in, her green eyes piercing.

"Good evening," she purred, her voice a low, husky melody. She was wearing a pearl white sweater dress over her bodystocking, the fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. Her fiery red pigtails were tucked away, hidden under a platinum blonde wig, straight cut and sleek, reaching just past her shoulders. A simple black beret and a pair of oversized sunglasses hiding her piercing green eyes, completed the disguise.

The concierge, a young man with acne-scarred cheeks and a nametag reading 'Timothy,' gulped audibly. "Good evening, ma'am. Welcome to the Jonas Plaza Suites. Do you have an appointment?"

Gale smiled, a slow, seductive curve of her lips that made Timothy blush. "An order actually, two bottles of champagne for the penthouse. I believe Mr. Gardner is expecting me?" she stated, while she pressed on a small tablet she held in her hand, which intercepted the order that Geoff had placed earlier.

Timothy nodded, his eyes darting between Gale and his own touchscreen. "Yes, yes I see it now. I'll get that for you right away, ma'am." He hurried off, returning shortly with two bottles of champagne in a silver-plated ice bucket. "Here you go, ma'am."

Gale took the bucket, her fingers brushing Timothy's in a deliberate, lingering touch. "Thank you, Timothy. You've been most helpful." She turned and walked towards the elevators, her hips swaying in a way that made Timothy watch her until she disappeared behind the closing elevator doors.

As the elevator doors opened into the foray of the penthouse, Geoffery Gardner, otherwise known as Art-Man®, was waiting for her. He was dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, his usually styled hair slightly disheveled, giving him a boyish charm that Gale found surprisingly endearing.

"Ah, you must be the champagne delivery," he said from his drawing table, a sketchbook and pencils scattered around him. "I appreciate you coming up so late."

Gale sauntered in, her hips swaying gently, the ice bucket containing the champagne held aloft like a trophy. "Mr. Gardner, I presume?" she asked, her voice a low, sultry purr. "I do hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

Geoff looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in her overly sexualized appearance. "Um, no, not at all. Just... working on some ideas." He stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans before taking the bucket from her. "Thanks, you uh, are much more... punctual, than Timothy."

Gale laughed, a sound like velvet rustling, as she stepped further into the penthouse. "Well, I do aim to please, Mr. Gardner." She watched as he placed the ice bucket with the champagne on a nearby sideboard, her eyes scanning the room, taking in every detail. "You have a lovely home. Very... artistic."

Geoff smiled, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks. It's my sanctuary, really. A place to unwind and create." He gestured to the framed comic book panels lining the walls. "Those are some of my favorite pieces."

"And this one?" Gale asked, gesturing towards a modern art piece with fiery reds and navy blues, reminiscent of her own attire.

Geoff followed her gaze, "Ah, that's 'The Demon.' It's a bit of a personal piece. Inspired by... well, life's storms." he answered, his hand slowly drifting towards his paintbrush on the island counter.

Gale raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Storms, you say. Sounds like quite a tale."

Geoff shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips as he gently placed his palm on the counter instead, bringing up a security force-field around the paintbrush. "Perhaps another time. For now, would you like a glass of that champagne you brought?" he asked.

Gale answered with a chuckle, "Only if you join me, Mr. Gardner."

Geoff nodded, grabbing two glasses from the sideboard. He popped the cork on the first bottle and poured the champagne, handing one to Gale. "To new acquaintances," he toasted, clinking glasses with her.

Gale took a sip, her eyes never leaving Geoff's, as she made a very clear, audible, swallow. "Mmm, delightful. You have excellent taste, Mr. Gardner."

Geoff smiled, taking a sip of his own wine. "Please, call me Geoff. And thank you, I do try."

Gale set her glass down, approaching him, a hand plucking a ruby earring off one of her ears as she placed her hands on the sides of his neck. "You know, Geoff, I've always found artists to be such fascinating creatures. So full of passion, so... alive." She leaned in, her breath hot in his ear as she whispered, "I bet you're full of interesting stories, aren't you?"

Geoff swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the heat radiating off her body, smell the faint scent of jasmine that clung to her skin. He cleared his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Well, I suppose everyone has a story, or two, to tell."

She pulled back, aligning their faces, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Indeed, we do." she whispered before she stood on her toes and kissed him, her tongue darting out to trace his bottom lip. Geoff was taken aback, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he found himself responding to her kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer.

Gale deepened the kiss, her hands remaining on the sides of his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. She could feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of her own. She pulled back slightly, her eyes still closed, a small smile playing on her lips.

"That was... unexpected," Geoff admitted, his voice low. "I fully expected the wine to be drugged... Gale." he quipped, though the flush of his cheeks betrayed his bravado.

Gale shot him a condescending glare, "Now don't be silly, Art-Man®. You can't administer Sodium Pentothal orally," she explained as a hiss came from the ruby earring she'd removed earlier. She tossed it onto the coffee table, revealing a tiny needle. "But hypodermically, now that's a different story."

Geoff's eyes widened, realizing what had happened. "You... you drugged me!" he stammered, trying to push her away, but his limbs felt heavy, sluggish.

Gale chuckled, stepping back, allowing him to fall onto the bed. "Oh, darling, don't be so dramatic." she replied. "It's just an overdose of truth serum. A man of your supernatural metabolism will cope just fine, eventually. I merely wanted to make our conversation more honest, and of course... forgettable."

 "I must admit, I wasn't expecting you to be so... thorough, Gale." he stammered drowsily.

Gale smirked, adjusting her silver gloves. "Thoroughness is my middle name, darling. Now, where were we?" she asked.

Geoff blinked, trying to focus on her face. "You were about to tell me why you're here; I think."

Gale laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Was I? How delightfully crafty of you." She sauntered over to the window, looking out at the city. "You see, Geoff, I have a certain... client who's interested in your work. So, be a dear and tell me how to access that lab of yours through that thick, stainless-steel door right there." she said, pointing towards the lab area.

Geoff squinted, trying to focus on the door. "What? No! Why would I do that?"

Gale sighed dramatically, turning to face him. "Because, my dear Geoff, you're currently under the influence of a truth serum. Your inhibitions are lowered, and your desire to cooperate is heightened."

Geoff tried to shake his head, but his movements were sluggish. "No... I won't... I can't..."

Gale walked back to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Shh, it's alright, Geoff. There's no need to struggle." Gale's voice was soft, soothing, like a lullaby sung by a siren. Her hand on his shoulder was firm yet gentle, her thumb tracing circles on his skin. "Just tell me what I need to know, and then you can rest. You'll feel so much better once you've cooperated."

Geoff's eyes fluttered closed, his resistance waning. "It's... it's voice-activated," he mumbled, his words slurring together. "The door... it only opens for me."

Gale's smile was predatory, triumphant. "Excellent, Geoff. Now, what's the activation phrase?"

Geoff's brow furrowed, his mind in a fog, "Phrase... it's... 'Art for Art's sake.'"

Gale held up her tablet, crafted by Galvani, which repeated the phrase, Geoff's voice echoing in the vast penthouse. The steel door slid open with a soft hum, revealing the state-of-the-art lab, and its supercomputer beyond. "Marvelous," she purred, patting Geoff's cheek. "You've been most helpful."

Geoff tried to reach out, to grab her arm, but his limbs were leaden. "Why... are you doing this?" Geoff managed to ask; his speech still slurred from the truth serum.

Gale turned to look at him, her eyes cold and calculating. "Money, darling. Always money," she answered, as she stepped into the lab, her heels clicking on the polished floor. "My client is willing to pay a substantial amount for whatever secrets you're hiding on that supercomputer of yours." she explained while inserting a flash device into the mainframe. An animated Galvani avatar stated that the device was copying the mainframe, an extraordinary feat for a mere flash drive.

"And I, being the opportunistic woman that I am, decided to take the job..." she quipped, but was interrupted by the time remaining for the download, "Damn, six hours. This will take longer than I anticipated. I should have brought a book." she muttered to herself, leaving the lab, subtly bracing open the stainless door, and sliding into bed next to Geoff.

She propped her head up on her hand, watching him sleep. His features were softer in repose, less guarded. She reached out, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips. He stirred slightly, his hand reaching up to grasp hers, pulling it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly, still asleep, before releasing her hand and rolling onto his side, facing away from her.

"Gaze upon the pale blue orb. Gaze upon your doom..." Geoff mumbled, his voice groggy from the truth serum.

Gale looked at him, his back to her, with concern for his words...