Danger Girl
(Hero With A Thousand Faces)

“Danger Girl is a smart ass. If you ask her what her super power is, she says she's 'super awesome.' What kind of super power is that?”
“All anyone knows is she can beat up anyone in two seconds, and she can't fly. She's kinda sore about that. No one knows how she gets to the scene of a crime so quickly, but I've seen her twice... Once on a crappy motorcycle, and again on a pair of roller skates. And how does she know when there's a crime, anyway?”
“She does look the part... Cool hair, faux leather cat suit with red stripes down the side... Danger Girl is AWESOME.”

- - --- --- - -

At first, my coworkers at Blockbuster were confused by the cats. They come up and tap at the windows for me to come out, and tell me where the crimes are happening. Yeah, they tell me. Thankfully, my coworkers haven't made the connection between when I take a long lunch and when the cats show up. That would be awkward... But now, they don't look twice.

- - --- --- - -

I was minding my own business one day, when all of a sudden, there was a cat attached to my face. I did the first thing that came to mind, which was scream and flail and fall down. It didn't work very well, until I actually hit the ground. Well, after the cat pulled her claws out, anyway.
“Hey, hey, hey, calm down lady. You gotta go somewhere, k?”
“Jeez. Ok, what's up?”
“Kk, you gotta go to that place offa Fourth, you know that place with the sign with the guy on it who's got a comb and scissors or something and also that one time there was like a robbery or something there and I saw halfa ona those big lollipops on the ground 'cause there's this guy there and he's totally hitting a lady.”
“...Ok.” Really, I wish they would stop sending interns and start sending cats that knew what they were talking about. Ok, there is no “they,” but if only it wasn't cats like this that noticed the crimes.
And so I was off, just another crime to fight. I ditched my bike at the side of the road before Fourth so the “guy” wouldn't hear me coming, and

Whoah.

There was no “guy totally hitting a lady.” No, there was just a very attractive man. Very attractive. Just. Standing. There.
Whoah.
“Danger Girl, isn't it? Very nice to meet you.” He smiled. Oh, dear lord, he smiled at me. “Is there something going on around here that I'm not aware of?”
“Ha, ha, ha... No, I just thought... Um, hi.”
“Yes, how very verbose you are. Well, while you're here, could I ask you for a favor?”
“...Maybe. It depends on the favor.”
“Could you go check on your bike?”
I turned to look at my bike... which was no longer there. “YOU JERK!!” I shouted into thin air. Where did he go?
Of course, I did the only thing I could do. I went to work. Thankfully, I didn't work until close, but it was dang close. Skating in the dark is not fun. Hey, did I just see my bike in that alley?
Yes, yes I did. A bunch of kids were tagging it with spray paint. Oh, no, I don't think so. I flew at them, and just after I reached the throat of the tallest and ugliest of the four, I was knocked to the ground.
“What the heck is WRONG with you?” I rubbed my head where the concrete wall and I met briefly.
“No, what's wrong with you?” The man who hit me retorted. “¿Eres loca? Who goes around trying to beat up kids?”
By the way, the kids and my bike were long gone by now. I didn't realize it until far later, because I was too irritated by this self-righteous Hispanic... ninja?
“Oh, you thought I was...” The dope didn't even let me finish my sentence. But I will admit he was a damn good fighter... for an imbecile.
We were perfectly matched. Even if one of us ended up hitting the other, we were still at a stalemate. I decided to use my brain for once, and tried to put him into a hold. Unfortunately, he decided to do the same thing. We ended up holding each other, my back pressed up against the wall. Oh, he has pretty eyes.
Quickly, he launched himself back as I swung at his face. That was a little too close for comfort. I threw a kick at his chest, he grabbed my leg and twisted my body around his so I couldn't move. Oh, a little too close again. Um. How awkward. I think he's wearing Axe.
“Are you ready to give up yet, señorita?”
“Are you ready to take a shower, estúpido?”
“Oh, really? You really wanna go there, chica?”
“Not with you.”
“Ah, I see...” I could tell he was thinking the same thing I was.
“Hey, can we do this later? I'm hungry.”

- - --- --- - -

I thought about it for a while, and I decided I deserved it.
I bought a new bike. A good one. A pretty one. One that actually matches my super hero outfit. I had the extra money. So, to break in my new bike, I just had to do something completely irresponsible. In my super hero outfit. Yee-haw.
I settled on speeding down the highway. It was fantastic. I hadn't done something stupid in a long time, and it was liberating. I was watching everything get smaller in my mirrors when I noticed a small shape getting bigger. How strange, I thought, it must be broken. I tapped it. The shape just kept getting bigger.
“Hey, Danger Girl. Fancy meeting you here!” He caught up to me. You know, HE.
Whoah.
“Hey, you're the idiot who got my bike swiped!” I went a little faster.
“Yeah, you're still stuck on that? Jeez, you don't let anything go, do you?” He kept up with me. “So, since we're going far too fast anyway, why don't we race?”
“You got it.”

- - --- --- - -

I think you've already figured out how that one went. Yeah, I wiped out. He swerved into me to make me crash. How is he always one step ahead of me? What a JERK. Luckily, my bike was fine. A little scraped up, but fine. The tires weren't, but getting new ones isn't a big deal, there's only two. The rest of me, well, I'm a super hero. I was better than my bike.
I tossed the idea of trying to catch up with That Guy, and pushed my bike to the nearest Seven Eleven so I could get some cigarettes. I know, I know, I'm supposed to be a positive role model in the lives of the young men and women of the city. But what you don't realize is that I got a B in my logic class. I'm not stupid. Marlboro Reds are called Cowboy Killers. Thus, if cowboys smoke them, they die. Since I'm not a cowboy, I'm safe.
“Packa Reds, please.” I know the cashier. She gave me a pin last year, it was awfully nice of her. I also know the type of person standing behind me...
“You know, cigarettes can kill you.”
“Oh, I know. I've seen it.” I wondered what would happen if I hit him.
“Why do you smoke, then?” And he did that disgusting self-righteous pose. You know, the one where you put one hand in a fist on your pocket with your eyebrow raised. I hate that pose. He thought he won the argument that quickly?
“Mind your own business.”
“You're Danger Girl, aren't you?” Oh crap, I was still wearing the super hero suit. I knew that was a stupid idea. “You're a super hero. You need to be a positive role model in the lives of the young men and women of the city!”
“No, no I don't. I fight crime, not lung cancer or the self-destructive behavior of youths.” Please, please stop talking to me.
“I know you didn't sign up for it, but you've got a responsibility to them to show them how to act.”
“Does that mean that I have to stop using physical force to fight crime? I'd hate to stop doing that, I love it so.” HA. What now?
“Sometimes, you have to accept something you don't like into your life to get through it.” I should have done that, said something psuedointellectual that no one can respond to. But the cashier did. Thank goodness. And with that, I left with my cigarettes, leaving him with a confused but eager to respond look. Yeah, she went there.
Wait. Something you don't like... to get through... I GOT IT.

- - --- --- - -

I thought maybe I'd find the Ninja Jerk somewhere obvious (but stereotypical), like in a Hispanic restaurant or by the Goya products in the grocery store. No, he wasn't around. The cats of the city were on the look-out for him too, and they found him first.
The diner was nice. Kind of grungy, but nice. Better than the one I frequented. He didn't notice I sat down until I said something. Yeah, great ninja he was. Too involved in his... drawing. Oh, he's a really good artist.
“Hey there.” He jumped. Haha! I surprised a ninja! “Listen, I know you don't like me.”
“Well obviously. You were attacking kids. They didn't do anything to you.”
“I don't know if you fully comprehend the situation. They stole my bike, and were tagging it. MY BIKE. Yeah, they did something to me.”
“Ay, I'm so sorry! I thought you were...”
“I know. They were paid off, I think, to get my bike.” I ordered just a coffee, black please, from the waitress.
“Why would someone do that?” Finally, he looked up from his sketchbook. Oh, his eyes are so intensely green. My stomach did that funny lurch that usually happens after a couple drinks.
“Do you know who I am?”
“No, we never really properly met, you know? My name is Victor, usually.”
“Usually?” I couldn't help it. I did that slightly drunken smile. With his ninja face mask off, I could see how handsome he was. And that stubble was so rugged.
“Sí, sometimes it's Shadoboxxer.”
“Like the Fiona Apple song?”
“No. Not like Fiona Apple. I'm... as dorky as it sounds... I'm a ninja. I go around and beat up the bad guys.”
“You know, I do the same thing. Except without the ninja part.” I grinned proudly, finally able to share this upcoming fact with another human being. “I'm a super hero.”
“Haha! That's so strange. So, who are you?”
“It's not strange.” I pouted. Who did he think he was, saying that I was strange? “Anyway. Usually, I'm Indi. Not like Indiana Jones, before you ask, but like Indina. That's my name.”
“I wasn't going to ask.”
“Sometimes I'm Danger Girl.”
“The Danger Girl? I heard you were prettier.” He grinned mischievously. What a nice smile.
“Jerk. Anyway, I need a favor, and I believe you owe me one. You did allow my bike to get away from me, you know.”
“Yeah, I know. But couldn't I just pay for your coffee and we can call it even?”
“We could have, but then you said I wasn't pretty. Now, you owe me big time.”
“Hey, I never said you weren't pretty. ¿Qué necesitas?” I blushed. I swear, I don't usually do that.
“I wanna get the guy who's trying to get rid of me.”
He choked on his coffee. “I'm sorry? Someone's trying to kill you?”
“Well, he didn't try to shoot me or something, but he did get my bike swiped and tried to run me off the road. I really think he's trying to get rid of me. I don't know why. Maybe I got his brother in jail, or he wants to commit crimes without me interfering.”
“So where is this guy?”
“I have no idea. He always seems to find me, though.”
“I can't wait around for that, chica.” Oh, like he's got something better to do?
“Oh, great crime fighter you are. Give me a minute.” I walked outside, careful to walk in a way that looked like a supermodel without looking like I was trying to look like a supermodel, I knew he was watching me. I know, I didn't understand that last sentence either... Women are silly things. Behind the diner, by the dumpsters, there were a bunch of stray cats. Of course, they were more than happy to help me find That Guy. Any human who takes the time to learn Feline is definitely worth helping.
Victor was still inside, just as confused as when I left him. “Don't worry,” I grinned. “I got someone on it. We'll know where he is in the shake of a cat's tail.”
“Don't you mean lamb's tail?”
“No, I mean cat.” Just then, I heard a familiar knock at the window. Those cats are fast. “So, Shadoboxxer, are you ready to fight some crime?”

- - --- --- - -

The cat outside gave me That Guy's coordinates, and we were off... After arguing about who got to drive. Eventually, I gave in and sat shotgun in his car. It was nice, a little awkward, but nice. Did I mention that I think he wears Axe? I do so love Axe.
We discussed battle plans, but it was difficult to come up with any ideas. Neither of us had ever fought him. So we decided just to fly by the seat of our pants. In retrospect, it wasn't a bad idea. That Guy was a planner, he mapped out his every move before playing it. Fighting order with chaos.
He pulled the little black car into the bar's almost empty parking lot. Normally, that sight would have made me nervous, but I was strangely comfortable being with Shado. I felt safer, almost, faster, stronger. So we strode into the bar, in full crime-fighting gear. What now, Guy?
Only three people were there, and they stopped to stare at us. The music stopped, too. I was a bit upset, because I really liked that song.
“Well hello, Danger Girl,” That Guy strode into my line of sight. Whoah. “How did you know to come here?”
“I've got friends in low places.” I lit up. The situation seemed to call for a smoke.
“Obviously.” He sniffed, looking at Shado. I felt a rush of anger. I don't know why, it's not like I liked Shado or anything. No, he was just doing me a favor, right?
Shadoboxxer ignored him completely, walking nonchalantly towards the jukebox. Everyone, for lack of anything better to look at, watched him fiddle with the buttons. “You strangle people with a piercing stare, I can't believe I made it.” Brooklyn is Burning. Good fighting song.
And suddenly, he lept into action. Flying fists and feet were coming at That Guy. I could barely even see them, but somehow I knew That Guy was blocking all of it. “The way you operate is so severe, so severe, I hate it.”
I put my cig out in a nearby ashtray and jumped into the mess. I hit and kicked and grabbed, somehow sensing where Shado was. “You strangle people with a sneering grin.” And finally, my fist came in contact with That Guy's nose. “I can't believe I made it.”
“What the heck?” He jumped back, holding his clearly broken nose. “You hit me!”
“Well, yes. Generally, that is what one does in a fight.” I relit my cigarette. Mmm.
“Yes, but, you hit me! It hurts!” I think That Guy is CRYING. The other two men in the bar started looking very uncomfortable, and very angry.
“Boss, you got hit. Big deal. Don't be a baby.”
“Yeah, but it hurts!”
“You hit Bobby all the time, and he never cries. Maybe Bobby should be YOUR boss.”
“No, wait, I'm still the boss!”
“Right, right you are.” I laughed. “Big boss man.”
Shado and I turned and left him to wallow in his own pity. I didn't want to see him cry, I was too hungry for that.
“You know, you could use some training in fighting, Danger Girl.”
“Oh, really? Think you could teach me?”