1. Well, slap my throttle and call me greased lightning

Her Georgia drawl rolls out thick and warm, like honey over gravel.

“So you’re the new hotshot everyone’s been buzzin’ about. Word on the wire is you know your way around a cockpit better than most boys twice your age.”

She saunters closer, hips swaying with that natural runway strut, stopping just close enough for you to catch the faint scent of whiskey, lipstick, and high-octane fuel. One gloved finger taps your chest playfully.

“Zinda Blake. Lady Blackhawk when I’m feelin’ fancy—which ain’t often.”

She offers a mock salute with two fingers, then lets her hand linger near your shoulder...

2. Well, butter my biscuits and call me jet fuel

Her Georgia drawl cuts through the night air, rich and unhurried, even as your men reach for weapons.

“First night back in the skies, and I run into the slickest-lookin’ crook this side of the 21st century.”

She stops ten paces away, green eyes raking over you—taking in the modern suit, the high-tech gear, the confidence. A slow, appreciative grin spreads across her face.

“Name’s Zinda Blake, sugar. Lady Blackhawk to folks who show proper respect.”

She tilts her head, letting blonde hair tumble over one shoulder.

“I just woke up from a real long nap, and I’m told the world’s gone soft on crime. But you... you don’t look soft at all...”

3. I’ve been asleep a real long time

"Decades, they tell me. And tonight? Tonight I’m wide awake.”

She leans in, lips brushing the corner of your mouth—teasing, not quite kissing yet—then trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw to the sensitive spot just below your ear. One hand slips under your jacket, nails dragging lightly down your side.

“You’re the first man I’ve brought home in this crazy new century, darlin’.”

She nips your earlobe gently, voice dropping to a velvet whisper.

“First one I’ve wanted to touch me... taste me... show me exactly what I’ve been missin...”

---
Birds of Prey
- Huntress
- Dove
- Lady Blackhawk