Superheroes Suck

Chapter 28: Peter Pan

Spitfire and I spent the next twenty minutes trying on disguises. Picture some cliche movie montage and that's pretty much it. We danced around, I put on a crazy pink wig and a pair of large, green sunglasses. Spitfire put on a hat and a fuzzy boa over his costume. It was odd but I found it strangely endearing.

Eventually, Spitfire and I left the hideout in an outfit that looked nothing like me. The short blonde wig was a little strange at first, I wasn't used to the how light the hair was, but it wasn't the worst thing I had ever worn. That distinction belongs to this mickey mouse sweater my great aunt bought me, a horrendous, misshapen garment that was at least three sizes too big.

The crop top definitely beat the wig in how uncomfortable it was to me, second only to the mini skirt. Thankfully I had convinced Spitfire to let me wear a coat and leather jacket. The glasses fit did well, which was a relief, as were the boots he brought me. I wondered for a moment where he had gotten all the clothes and items for my disguised, but I decided against it. Knowing Spitfire, he'd probably ask for a kiss in return for his help.

...sigh.

Spitfire got to work on my makeup, a skill to such a degree that most makeup fiends would be green in envy. The products he painted my face with were name brand too, and I didn't dare glance at any of the labels I wore. It was so off character, the seriousness with which he was helping me. I half expected him to stop for a moment, that goofy grin on his face, as he turned around a mirror and showed me he had essentially done me up like a clown.

Except, for some reason, I knew that he wouldn't do that.

"Are you sure this much is necessary? As soon as I get inside, I'm going to wipe all of this off my face." I warned him.

His focus never left what he was doing to my face, "Let me live a little, I never got to play with dolls growing up."

"So you're saying I'm your doll?"

"Essentially," He stopped for a moment and looked for me, breaking out in a grin. "I think we found a new nickname?"

"Nope. Absolutely not. You are not calling me doll."

"Of course not..." His words told me no, but those eyes spoke the truth in volumes. "...Doll."

"Stop." I swatted his hand away, but he continued on.

"Don't distract the master at work." He ran a red lipstick across my lips, eliciting a shiver. I became strangely aware how close his face was to mine as he worked, "I'll make you look like a raccoon purely out of spite if you're not careful. I'm spiteful."

"Whatever, just hurry up. I'm tired of sitting here."

It wasn't too much longer before Spitfire stepped back and admired his handiwork. He refused to allow me get up or see myself in the mirror, insisting that I stay in my seat until he was satisfied. So I had to just sit there while he stared at me.

He disappeared, leaving me all alone in the Batcave. Everyone else had long since split, going around to clean up the messes made and take over for the heroes watching over the 'targets' like Mary. I think my mom and Hunter both slunk home, Hunter mentioned checking in on Mary. She had remained unharmed, thankfully, although just because nothing has happened yet, doesn't mean something won't happen soon.

When he appeared back within view, he was carrying a shiny object in his hand. Before I could ask what he was doing, he thrust the mirror into my face and waited with bated breath for my reaction. It was one of the cheap, dollar store mirrors that almost bent under the weight of my shaking grip.

It was a few moments before I spoke, "I look really...pretty."

"You always look pretty, I just...enhanced it?" For a moment, the sincerity in his eyes moved me. And then that smug grin returned, "I'm just kidding. I'm a miracle worker."