Meanwhile, Across Town

Chapter 2

Francis threw open the door and glared at Arthur and Alfred standing in the dimly lit hall. Alfred waved cheerfully. "Hello!"

"I can think of no other reason for you two to be standing at my door at two am than that you want to have sex with me. Very well, I shall get the whipped cream."

Arthur narrowed his eyes and followed Francis into the richly decorated loft apartment. "Don't be ridiculous, you arrogant frog. We're here for fashion advice."

"Of course, why else would you turn up at my apartment at this time of night." Francis wore a fluffy red trimmed sleeping gown, red fluffy slippers, and his hair was held back by a red fluffy sleeping mask. He looked like a particularly furry raccoon. "Are you sure you don't want to have sex with me?"

"No!"

"No you don't want to have sex with me, or no you're not sure?" Francis led them into the kitchen and threw open the fridge.

Arthur thought for a moment. "The first one."

"Ah. So no whipped cream?" asked Francis, waving the can in the air.

"I'll have some whipped cream," said Alfred eagerly. Arthur blinked at him and he shrugged. "I'm hungry."

"Here," said Francis, throwing the can to Alfred.

"Ooh, vanilla flavoured." Alfred put the nozzle in his mouth and pressed it down. Arthur shook his head and looked away. Maybe this was not such a good plan after all. But then, what choice did he have? Another aspiring superhero was not likely to appear in front of him any time soon.

"So, Arthur," said Francis, "What fashion advice is so important that it can not wait until morning? I already told you, that tie is horrible."

Arthur pointedly ignored that. "Francis, meet, uh, America-man. The newest protector of liberty and justice in our fair city."

Francis looked around the room. "Huh? Where? Who?"

Alfred waved again. "Me," he said through a mouthful of cream.

Francis's mouth fell open. "The copy boy?"

"Of course," said Arthur. "Did you not notice the cape?"

"I thought that was for the sex!"

"There is no sex, Francis. There never has been sex, there never will be sex... no sex!"

Francis sighed dramatically. "Oh, my wounded heart." Arthur resisted the urge to kick him. "Very well, then, let us see what we have here." Francis slowly circled Alfred, looking him up and down, his eyebrow raised appraisingly. Alfred eyed him nervously. "Not bad, not bad... we have something to work with here. Cute butt." Francis wagged his eyebrows at Arthur, who gritted his teeth and widened his eyes warningly.

Alfred twisted his neck to look down at the aforementioned body part. "Do you think? You know, I've been wondering if maybe it's been getting a little flabby lately..."

"You, shush. Now, this." Francis gestured over Alfred's garish outfit. "This underwear over the tights business." Francis shook his head and wagged a finger before Alfred's wide eyes. "No, no, no, my dear. It's so tragically sixties. Nowadays we need something more... streamlined. Subtle. Classy." He tilted his head, took a step back and peered thoughtfully. "I do like the colour scheme, however. Maybe add a big letter 'A' on the chest. America-man, was it?" Alfred nodded eagerly and Francis folded his arms and tapped his chin. "Hmm. No. How about just..." Francis spread his fingers and waved his hand in an arc, whispering dramatically, "America!"

Alfred's eyes lit up and he gasped, staring at the wall with an awestruck expression. "I love it!"

"Of course you do. Now, I'm assuming you have some sort of superpower..." Francis left the sentence hanging.