Disclaimer: I do not own either Young Justice or its related characters. Such are the property of DC Comics, Warner Bros. Entertainment and Cartoon Network. Neither do I own the word 'grok' and its extended conjugations; it is the property of Mr. Robert A. Heinlein. I'm just borrowing them for some non-profit entertainment.

(A/N: So… yeah… I said I had abandoned this fic. Well, I had. IN a fit of post season 2 pilot shock and angst I decided that I didn't want to see, read, hear or touch anything that had anything to do with M'gann. I'm over that now. Not sure if I'm gonna continue to support the pairing in future fics, but I will continue this story –at least for as long as I can keep thinking up ways for them to do it. …And I haven't even started with my telekinetic ideas yet.)

Intercourse

Chapter Four: Experimenting with Fetishes and Kinks (part 1)

She was jogging lightly through the woods around the Cave. Her auburn hair pulled up into a bouncy pony-tail, a cheerfully bright baseball cap on her head, a functional spaghetti-strap tank-top over a wide-strapped sports-bra covered her torso, but did nothing to hide the appealing bounce she'd given her breasts as she jogged. Short Daisy Duke-style cut-off shorts displayed her upper thighs but somehow managed to conceal just enough of her vermillion green ass as to avoid being called 'indecent'. White tube socks climbed up her ankles from within brand new jogging shoes.

All of it was real. Having been bought at the Happy Harbor Target the previous day after school. While her shape-shifting allowed her to create whatever clothing she needed or wished to wear, is was not real clothing –it could not be torn or ripped off of her without causing harm (or at the very least, pain). So, she had gone shopping after school for the specific purpose of purchasing something that Conner would rend asunder in an effort to get at her body.

The outfit was not overtly sexual in nature; she looked rather unassuming in her tank-top and shorts, jogging shoes and baseball cap. The point of this experiment was not to dress like a complete whore, silently begging 'fuck me! fuck me! fuck me!', no. (She had bought other things for that.) The purpose of today's fetish experiment was to be a victim.

Conner lurked in the woods along the jogging trail feeling more uncomfortable and… slimy than he had ever felt before. Even more so than when he'd learned that Lex Luthor was his other father. Something about this just didn't sit right with him, and he knew exactly what it was, but M'gann had brushed off his concerns with the simple statement of 'That's what safety words are for.' He reminded himself that it wouldn't be real, that they were just playing pretend, that it had been her idea and they were doing it on her insistence. But still… he felt like he was doing something he shouldn't.

He heard the quick pace of her sneakers crunching on the underbrush of the forest trail. Quick enough to pass for an innocent and leisurely jog in the woods, but still slow enough to allow for someone else to catch her. Conner took a deep breath to settle his nerves; he did not like this idea. He reminded himself that it had been her idea, that it was what she wanted and that they had a safety word –then he stepped out onto the trail, blocking her path.

Her mahogany eyes widened in mock alarm accompanied by a dainty gasp and she ventured a hesitating, "Who're you?"

His line was supposed to be something like, 'Don't you know its dangerous for a pretty girl to be out here alone?' or 'Look what I've found all alone with no one to hear her scream.' Or something menacing like that. Instead the words that came out of his mouth were, "I don't like this."

M'gann's shoulders slumped, her air of innocent alarm dissolving into a cloud of irritation, one reprimanding hand resting on the oh-so-luscious curve of her hip. "Conner, we've been over this. Its fine. We both know and have agreed upon what's going to happen, we've set ground rules, and both of us have consented. What is your problem?"

"I feel… dirty." He explained lamely.

"But that's the point!" She insisted. "We're supposed to feel dirty. Its kinky fantasy fulfillment."

"I don't fantasize about accosting you in the woods when no one's around to hear you scream and no one can help you."

She sighed, closed the distance between them, kissed him gently on the lips. "Don't think of it as 'accosting' me then, think of it as… as hunting! Yeah! Like training for following a target. We train together all the time and when the training's over you have no problem making out with me then. So, think of it like that. You're stalking a target, hunting your prey like Wolf hunts for rabbits. What you choose to do with your prey when you catch it…" She trailed off.

Conner did not look convinced.

She gazed up at him, eyes shining, an adorable little pout on his lips. "Please, Conner… I really wanna try this."

He heaved a sigh of his own. "Okay, I can try this one more time."

Her smiled was enthusiastically jubilant and she floated up to give him a second, much more passionate, kiss on the lips before floating back a ways down the trail to restart this farce from the beginning. He melted back into the trees.

'Stalking prey, huh.' He thought, not nearly as enthusiastic as his girlfriend seemed to be. 'Like how Wolf hunts rabbits.' M'gann was most certainly not a rabbit. If he did have to compare her to an animal it would be a bear. Contrary to contemporary belief, bears were mostly gentle creatures until they felt their young, their territory or themselves were threatened –then they became fatally dangerous. Just like M'gann. Sweet and gentle, some times a little naïve, eager to please and make friends… but on missions, fighting enemies, protecting the Team… baby's got claws!

But as far as the other half of her little simile went, comparing him to a wolf, Conner had to agree with her assessment. He was a wolf. It wasn't just because of his super-human hearing, or super-sense of smell, or sight that made him comparable to a natural born predator. It was also his sheer viciousness in battle, his fierce loyalty to his Team –his pack. As much as M'gann was a bear, he was indeed a wolf. Hey… wasn't there some mating ritual among certain wolf species where the male had to chase down his desired female? Sort of a 'catch me if you can' chasy-chasy thing? He didn't know for sure. Cadmus hadn't thought that obscure mating rituals of canine species were pertinent to his mission of killing and replacing Superman.

He was upwind of her at the moment and could not detect her scent, but Conner could distinctly hear the crunch of underbrush beneath M'ganns's new store-bought shoes as she once again jogged lightly up the path. Training… stalking a target. A wolf… hunting his prey. Conner took a deep breath to settle his nerves. He could do this. It was just playing pretend. Don't pretend you're a vile rapist, pretend you're a wolf –a different kind of predator.

A wolf… be a wolf… a wolf stalking his mate. /'Catch me if you can…'/

Lurking in the woods along the path, he let her pass him by. Conner turned to follow. Staying hidden behind the tree line, pursuing her, jogging lightly at a speed that was only slightly faster than she was running. She was the one that was upwind of him now and her scent wafted behind her, tantalizing him with her impatient excitement. He let that scent fill his sense, his every perception focusing in on her. The snap of a twig under her shoe. The slight swish of her pony-tail as it whipped the air. The near indistinguishable wiggled of her ass as she ran. Her every move. Her every sound. Every subtle shift in her scent. It was all M'gann –his M'gann. His mate. He was a wolf… and she was his mate.

/'Catch me if you can…'/

He followed her, never leaving the cover of the trees, but still keeping pace. 'Lead the target. Don't rush in. Put them at ease. Make them second guess your actions.' They passed the agreed upon spot that he was supposed to pounce on her. Her steps slowed in confusion when he did not pop out of the trees and attack her. She could sense that he was out there; he knew she could sense him. 'Make them second guess you. Remember, you are the one in control.'

Finally, she stopped. Turning to face where she knew he was hiding in the trees, she called, "Conner? What's wrong this time?"

He did not answer. Instead the wolf padded softly through the underbrush, careful to make as little sound as was possible for him (not an easy task considering his bulk and general lack of grace), his crystal-blue eyes never leaving his mate's form. The unrelated sound of a pinecone falling from its tree distracted her and she wheeled around in search of the source of the sound. Her back was to him now. 'Don't you know you never turn your back on a predator?'

Conner leapt from the cover of the trees! One large strong hand closed over her mouth to stifle the scream that both began and ended impotently muffled behind his fingers. The other hand grabbed both of her wrists, holding then behind her to deter struggling. She struggled against him anyway, if you could call wiggling her shoulders and rubbing her ass against his pelvis 'struggling'. Vaguely, Conner remembered he was supposed to say something.

Tilting his face down, his lips just barely brushing the top of the curve of her ear, he whispered in his best 'I'm a bad guy' voice (which sounded suspiciously like a younger Lex Luthor), "Well, well, well, look what I've caught."

The hand covering her mouth drifted down to cup her breast, his thumb running over the cottony material of her tank-top.

"What… what are you gonna do with me?" M'gann breathed in a perfect blend of fearful apprehension and bated anticipation. She really missed her calling as a porn star. Her acting was flawless and almost had him convinced. –Almost. But you can't fool a kryptonian nose and Conner could detect no actual fear in her scent, it was all excitement and eagerness.

Using his teeth, Conner pulled the baseball cap from her head and buried his nose in her hair, enjoying the intoxicating aroma that was M'gann. She smelled so deliciously female. Her backside pressed against him was soft and smooth beneath her clothing. She was so eager to have him. Just who was supposed to be taking advantage of whom in this scenario again? 'Lead the target. Don't rush in. Make them second guess your actions. Remember, you're the one in control' Oh, right.

"Maybe I won't do anything to you…" He mused, still in his 'bad guy' voice. The arm that was wrapped around her waist loosened its grip on her. Then his hand traveled up to join the other at her breast. "Or…" Both hands seized the fabric of tank-top and sports bra and yanked violently. Tearing the material in two, expositing her soft, smooth vermillion breasts. M'gann's nipples tightened with eagerness, but she suppress her enthusiasm with an exaggerated gasp of horror. "Maybe I'll fuck you so hard you… you'll…" she'll what? He wasn't so good with the dirty talk. "… that I'll rip you up the middle!"

Or not. 'Note to self: find better dirty talk.'

"No, please, anything but that!" She whimpered, her voice carrying just the slightest undertone of confusion, as if she were asking herself, 'What the heck does that even mean?' But she did not use her telepathy ask him what he meant. She did not break character.

His teeth closed around the brightly colored hair-bungee of her pony-tail and yanked.

"Ow!"

He froze. "Sorry! I'm sorry!" He said quickly. "I didn't realize that was part of you. I thought it was another thing you bought. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

She huffed and slumped backwards against him. "Damn it! You broke character again."

"I thought I had hurt you."

"Did you hear me say 'souvenir'?"

"No."

She sighed. Reaching a hand up, she pulled the bungee out of her hair. Her thick auburn main came tumbling down around her head, framing her face in a curtain of burnt-sienna waves. "You pulled my hair was all. This gunband is snagly."

"Oh." The hair-bungee was placed in his now limp hands. So, it hadn't been a part of her after all, it had been something she'd bought specifically for this experiment. Now he felt sheepish. She hadn't used the safety word, he had no reason to overreact and stop everything. And he had actually been starting to get into it too…

M'gann gave a soft huff of irritation as she examined the torn remnants of her top and bra that still hung from her shoulders. They laid limply over her exposed breasts, casually concealing her tightly pearled nipples it a way that was so very teasing that it almost seemed arranged. "Well, that's twenty bucks I'm never gonna get back."

She ran one hand through her hair, the material of her shirt and bra shifting so that one perfectly sculpted nipple was visible. She scratched her head a bit before dropping her arm, the fabric falling back in place, once again hiding the most delicious part of her breast from his eyes. "Guess we should go back inside and see what else is on our list."

He said nothing. He only moved, and moved fast. 'Lead the target. Remember, you're the on in control.'

Conner grabbed M'gann by the wrist and dragged her off the path, pushing her against the nearest tree. The feeble remnant of her tank-top and bra were ripped from her shoulders and thrown on the ground by their feet. Then his mouth was on her. Face pressed between her breasts, trailing kisses upwards towards her jaw while his hands kneaded, and caressed, and squeezed, and pinched and twisted.

"Conner?"

He silenced her with a kiss. His lips mashed against hers, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth with greedy abandon. 'Lead the target.'

She moaned into his throat, her own tongue slithering out to meet his. One of her legs slid up his side and he moved his hand to caress her thigh –and was irritated to find that she still wore her shorts. Moving both his hands to the waistband of the offending article of clothing he unbuttoned and unzipped the Daisy Dukes and tried to slip them off her hips. But she would not lower her leg to allow him to do so. Instead, she lifted the second one, wrapping them both around his waist.

'Remember, you're the one in control.' Frustrated, Conner seized the tough denim material and ripped it from zipper to ass. She was now open and fully exposed to him.

When their lips finally parted she said, "I knew you'd get the hang of this."

"Shut-up."

He had no belt (having destroyed it during another one of their attempts at 'growing closer'), and so only had the stupid button and zipper of his own pants to contend with. Once they were dealt with and the cargo pants and underwear slipped from his hips, there was nothing separating him from M'gann.

He didn't wait for her nod of consent to enter, he just thrust. One strong stoke and he was inside her. Her back rubbed uncomfortably against the back of the tree he had her pressed against as Conner pounded into her unrelentingly. Each thrust sending phenomenally appreciable shockwaves through her whole body. M'gann could not help the loud heady moan that escaped her throat. Conner once again mashed his lips against hers in an effort to keep her quiet. This wasn't exactly a private hiking trail.

/'More!'/ Her mind screamed at him.

/'More?'/ He did not pause, but he was hesitant. Wasn't he being rough enough? He was pretty strong and he didn't want to run the risk of hurting her. Just because he had super-strength did not mean he had the super-control to go along with it.

/'Conner… please…'/

'Remember, you're the one in control.' He pulled out of her just long enough to throw her on the ground on her hands and knees, face to the ground, ass in the air. He knelt behind her, and then he was inside her again. As deep as he would go, both hands holding her hips, pulling her into him as he pounded her from behind. M'gann gave another loud throaty moan and Conner moved one hand to cover her mouth.

"Shut-up!" He snapped. "Someone's gonna hear us."

She offered no response, just shifted her head's position enough to slip two of his large fingers in her mouth. She sucked on them as if they might have been a penis. The idea sent shivers through out Conner's whole body and spurred him to move faster, thrust harder, reach deeper –but he was already as deep as her organ would let him.

M'gann's body tightened around him, the muscles in her shoulders, her teeth biting down hard on his fingers as she rode the rapturous waves of a euphoric orgasm. Her rings and folds, so tight around him, felt almost like they were sucking on him, like they were trying to draw him in deeper –but he could go no deeper. Yet she still pulled at him. Her insides sucking and stroking and pulling until he was pushed to a sighing, groaning climax of his own –spilling into her with everything he had.

They slumped in the underbrush.

He rolled off of her, breathless.

She lay on her belly gasping.

"This was fun." She smiled into the dirt, content in the after-glow of her climax.

"I didn't like being a bad guy."

…