Another Super?!

Alana Kent

Wayne Manor
Gotham City

Having returned from patrol and followed Alfred's nonnegotiable instructions of a shower, dinner, and a minimum of five hours of sleep, Bruce was finally able to call Clark about what had happened to the Team. "Good morning Clark," Bruce started, considering the time and knowing his friend and teammate had just woken up.

"Morning Bruce," Clark responded with a yawn. "What's wrong?"

Bruce smiled slightly, "does something have to be wrong for me to call a friend and tell them good morning?"

"Well no, but you don't usually unless something's wrong."

"Nothings wrong Clark I just had a question for you."

Clark sat up a little straighter on the edge of his bed, "what's up?"

"Do you know where Alana was last night?"

"... What'd she do?" After Bruce explained what had happened the previous night Clark said, "get the team over here." He hung up after Bruce gave confirmation that he would, and sighed, thinking about his adopted daughter. "What am I going to do with you?"

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Alana pov
Metropolis Gymnastics Center

'Hoo I got this.' I rubbed my hands together, spreading the chalk over my fingers. I looked at my audience and smiled before turning back to the challenge in front of me. Jumping up I grabbed the bar and started swinging, proceeding to perform my third Full-Twisting Shaposhnikova of the day. Landing in a perfect stick pose I let the applause wash over me as I panted, the sweat almost dripping off my forehead.

I noticed my coach walk up still clapping. "Once again perfectly executed; I dare say you might be able to take home the gold one next time." I merely smiled and scanned the crowd, quickly finding my dad; and the guests he brought with him. I grabbed my towel and wiped my forehead before walking over to them.

"Did you see?" I asked my dad.

"Yep. You just keep getting better. How many times did you do it this time?"

"That was my third," I answered smugly. Glancing at the people Dad had brought I noticed only one of them seemed to appreciate just how hard what I did was: the shortest one with dark hair and sunglasses.

"Is that supposed to be impressive?" the ginger asked, only to get elbowed in the side.

"Dude, that was the Full-Twisting Shaposhnikova. It's one of the top ten hardest moves to successfully pull off in women's gymnastics; number nine or ten if memory serves." Color me impressed, Glasses knows his stuff.

"Seventh actually," I corrected, then turned to Dad, "I'm gonna go wash up and get changed."

He nodded and I made my way to the locker rooms.

Once I was changed and my hands were free of chalk I grabbed my bag and went to find my dad again. It didn't take me long as Ginger and Glasses were chatting quite loudly, the topic of their discussion: me apparently. "I'm telling you guys I recognized her from somewhere I just can't remember where," Ginger told his friends. The blonde cleared her throat to grab his attention and pointed to me. Ginger turned around and saw me with my eyebrow raised, arms crossed, and a slightly amused smirk.