My bike settled down pretty quickly as I swooped down to the bridge. This... this was where Parasite had been created. The first of Superman's many super-foes, and we were still a long way off any super-friends.

To my pleasant surprise, I was near-immediately waved over by one of the police working there. I hopped out, and a policeman with a Stan Lee-grade moustache came to greet me. "You're that expert that Superman sent for?" he asked in a warm, friendly tone. "Now, I might have been expecting someone a little older, but you were recommended by a bulletproof man who flies around with his underpants outside his tights. I'll take it at face value- a pleasure to meet you, Miss..."

Nodding in return, I shook his hand. "I'm Framework," I introduced myself. "I'm an alien from the planet Zok-Bubet," I then proceeded to blatantly lie, "and- since he's a decent guy- I'm mainly here to give our Kryptonian buddy a helping hand. So, what's this stuff you need superscienced?"

He nodded. "More aliens?" he questioned. "Area 41 must be getting angry by now."

...I should probably check out if there's anything actually in that place, I thought to myself. UFOs could be a potent source of boredom avoidance, and probably also supertechnology for heroing if it hadn't been stripmined for reverse-engineered nonsense by now. Megatrons to microchips and all that nonsense.

I took out the phony analysis tools I'd prepared- as we approached the puddle of ever-so-slightly bubbling purple liquid, I waved an electromagnetic wand (with plenty of useless blinking lights on it, of course). With a magnetic hum, it parted a small segment of the liquid- and as I gestured upwards, the sample floated upwards too.

Carefully, I inserted the sample into my other largely-useless tool. A spectrometer, this time, with an inbuilt refrigerator in order to keep the sample fresh for proper analysis later. I made a show of looking interested as the display on top began to show off some glorified graphs of light penetration, and scratched my head lightly. "Did they say what it was originally used for?" I questioned, for purposes of continued blatant lies.

"I heard 'em say to that reporter Mr Kent it helped energy transfers or sumfin'," he explained. He shifted the hat on his head, taking a look at my overglorified science gizmo. "What's it say?"

I shut down the graphing function. "Good news, it's non-toxic, non-carcinogenic- it just sorta sucks up bioelectricity and stuff," I explained. "Nothing more, nothing less. That explains what happened to our policemen- he stole her excess bioelectricity. It's not an efficient enough process to kill people or any living thing bigger than a cockroach," I added, "and the bioelectricity should regenerate in the victim and deteriorate otherwise- it's a short-term process."

"I'm guessing there's bad news from the way you said that," the policeman said, frowning.

With a nod, I proceeded to explain. "It's going to stick in his system a long time," I said. "Maybe permanently. And, err... from what I know of kryptonian physiology?" I winced. "Yeah, it's better he not get his hands on Superman." Leaving out the 'memory-stealing' thing seemed like a prudent idea- after all, if Father ever figured out he could get this guy to pick Superman's brain for his weaknesses... That doesn't sound like a very pleasant scenario, I think we can all agree.

He blinked. "Hey, Daniels," he shouted, calling to one of the other police on the other side of the bridge. "Didn't Superman fly off to go talk to that Rudy fella who done this?"

"Yeah!" the woman on the other side shouted in a somewhat nasal voice. "Whazzit matter?"

"Well," replied whats-his-name-mc-policeguy, "apparently the guy who got dunked in this stuff can steal his powers!"

"No way," retorted 'Daniels'. "Where'd you learn that?"

"This alien kid told me!"

"You're having me on!" She turned around- and immediately boggled at the fact I was standing here, waving politely. "Hey, how'd you get here!?"

"Hoverbike," I replied politely as I gestured to my vehicle- which was also directly in her cone of vision. Christ, I thought.

"Neat!" she shouted. "Think you can tell Superman about all this?"

...Nope? Not even going to begin to question this? Nothing? Nada?

...Wow, I thought, Metropolis police are getting really jaded. And the first season's barely started... "Can do!" I replied with a salute. Remembering that being heroic was just as much about inspiration as it was about fighting crime, I decided to add a little bit extra onto the end. "Keep up the good work, fellow heroes!"

Yeah, that comic page with Nightwing and Superman meeting the park security was adorable and I loved it forever. Sue me.

The policeman saluted, and behind his eyes I could tell he was reminiscing about something. "And good luck to you too, Miss," he said warmly as I hopped back into my vehicle.

The cockpit closed around me with a satisfying click, and it was only the lack of an accompanying startup noise that made it anticlimatic. But as I returned to the sky, letting the wind rush pleasantly past from my little pressurised bubble of comfort, I realised I had a minor problem.

Well, when I say minor, I mean I had no idea where the confrontation actually was.

I racked my brains. What could I use as a landmark...?

Well, I considered,there's either a metabrawl or the lamp post Parasite tore off to whack Superman with. That should be good enough.
As I swept around the docks, I kept my eyes peeled for that broken lamp post- by now, the fight had to be over already. Superman had pretty much left straight away to find Rudy, after all.

Instead of anything so convenient, I saw a red-and-blue object hit the water with a splash, and a purple flying man flying away- until he turned backwards, presumably to gloat. At which point he noticed me. While empowered with all the power of the Man of Steel.

Our eyes met- mine staring from behind the glass casing of my vehicle, his glowing in midair as he tried to figure out exactly why there was a small child in a flying science-vehicle. "Damn that theory of narrative causality," I muttered as I realised I'd got here at precisely the wrong time.

He immediately doubled over laughing. I reluctantly turned on the outside speakers. "-some sort of Super Brat!?" he guffawed, halfway through a sentence by the time I could actually hear him. Then his expression went deadpan for a brief moment. "Seriously?" His hands went to his hips, and as he grinned maliciously (and mouthlessly), he cocked his head in a particularly cocky manner. "I've got all the strength of Superman himself now!" gloated Parasite. "There's no way you can beat me!"

Well, I thought, time to let the world know I'm up to the challenge. "We'll see about that!" I retorted. "The name's-"

This was roughly the point where I realised two things.

One, that I had no idea how to actually beat anyone Superman-tier in a fight. Really, I'd been planning to have the kryptonian gene mods up and running already by the time I made my debut- I'd kind of forgot that I hadn't finished preparing at the precise moment I successfully did heroing at Wayne Manor.

Two, I learned that superspeed was extremely unnerving when performed by Barney the Dinosaur's douchey hominid cousin. The startled gibberish that interrupted my epic introduction was, much to my shame, probably being recorded already.

He leered in triumph as his hands crushed my precious Dynacycle's right thruster like it had been made by an actual six-year-old child. (Probably out of cardboard boxes, sellotape and toilet rolls, I mean- that's what I would have done at that age.) Then he swung my poor machine in a semicircle and tossed me- and I was suddenlyextremely glad for the inertial compensators I'd installed.

Without them, I probably would have been reduced to a fine red smear on the sides of the craft. As it was, I just saw the less reinforced part of the craft- that is, the other engine I'd spent so long on- being reduced to so much scrap around me as I impacted. There was a fantastically loud noise as my bike hit the water. It started sinking, having lost much of momentum already- I groaned as the exposed wiring and electromagnets discharged to the water around me.

Then my face fell as I saw some unlucky shoal being electrocuted. "Poor fish," I lamented quietly. "I guess the seagulls are gonna eat well today."

A shadow passed overhead- I looked up to see the equally-curbstomped shape of Big Blue above me, obviously coming to make sure I didn't drown. Or possibly chew me out for getting him electrocuted, but really, how couldthat be my fault?

(Luthor, if you're reading my train of thoughts, go fuck yourself with a kryptonite lance. You know I know you know.)

He knocked on the glass politely, and made an upwards gesture with one hand while the other clung onto the frame of the craft. I sighed as I realised exactly what was about to happen. "Goodbye, fair Dynacycle, with your non-water-proof insides and your formerly-intact engines," I mourned. "I hardly knew ye. May you rest in pieces."

I also mourned my pressurised cabin and unsodden clothes, the moment before I pushed the button to get out- and I was rewarded with a spray of saltwater and popping ears as it equalised with the exterior pressure, before it unceromoniously dumped one small, particular patch of ocean on top of me.

The shock of the water stalled me for a moment, but Superman picked me out of there. The pressure change was disorienting, but without long-term exposure, I was at no risk of the bends or anything like that; in moments, we were at the surface. I spluttered, eyes screwed shut- "I hate seawater," I complained.

"Then it's a good thing you're not a fish," said Superman, as he paddled us both to shore.

Superman pushed me forwards, and I groped around for a few seconds before I managed to find the ladder he'd been directing me towards. I have difficulty opening my eyes in fresh water, let alonesaltwater or chlorinated. Cut me some slack.

Then I started flailing as some sort of cloth assaulted my face.

"Oh, you poor dear!" I heard a woman's voice coo. "That must've been terrifying, getting thrown around like that..."

My internal monologue went something like: Aaaaaaa. There is a strange woman on my face. Aaaaaaaaaa.

Meanwhile, Superman seemed to be completely oblivious to my torment, or at least unreceptive to sympathy for my vague, muffled indignant spluttering. "It's wonderful of you to offer your coat for something like this, Ma'am," he said. "I can't thank you enough for your kindness."

Aaaaaaaaa, I thought, embroiled in eternal suffering at this she-devil's hands. Begone, foul coat. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

She moved onto overvigorously trying to dry my hair, evoking a profusion of mildly distressed noises from me as she continued to d'aww over my general smallness and apparent need for assistance. The surrounding people also appeared indifferent to my plight as they approached Superman. "Hey, Supes," said one of them- "If you don't have your powers no more, what are you and your daughter gonna do now?"

I briefly managed to catch a glimpse of Superman looking absolutely mortified before the damnable veil of coatiness shut me off from the outside world once more. "Ah, we- we're not related," he said quickly, before he coughed and returned to his normal mode of speech. "Framework's a science prodigy," he explained, "she just wants to be a superhero too. Trained under Batman, mainly desk work and self defense, I think."

There were some vague grumblings of discontent, but not too many- it's hard to be disapproving of a guy who's punched out the Joker so many times. "So she's going to, what, do surgery on you?"

"No, no," Superman said, as the lady rammed a comb through my hair. "Surgery needs very different skills- and besides, it would be irresponsible to put that sort of burden on a minor." He looked towards the horizon. "I suppose the best thing to do would be go to STAR Labs for assistance- though if Framework can offer some extra insights..."

"There we go!" said the lady brightly, as she folded her coat back under her arm and returned my cute-as-heck headwear to its rightful position upon my cranium. (It was lucky I'd put a strap on it or I'd have lost it underwater- as it was, it had just fallen backwards in the rush of seawater.) "Thank you for being so good- would you like a lollipop? I've got a few in my bag for my own son, but I think you deserve one too for helping Superman."

My thoughts raged between dignity and sugar. It was, regrettably, not a long debate. "Yes please!" I said, politely and with a smile plastered onto my face. As it was offered- she unwrapped it for me, which was disappointing, since unwrapping a lolly was just one of those satisfying little things I liked to do- I looked up at Superman. "I think I can get a quick sample, lemme think..." I frowned. "Does anyone have a cotton swab? I think I- no, wait, my bag's totally soaked. Gah, the waterproofing didn't work very well at all... Does anyone have any tape, too?"

"I have some of both, sweetie," said the lady who had redeemed herself with her offering of crystallised glucose. "Oh! Is this one of those cheek swab things?"

"Ex-actly!" I replied brightly, more than a little pleased that I didn't have to explain anything. "I have a little science setup hidden around, I can sneak in with what Robin taught me." And I can get a spare change of clothes, too. My normal ones were completely soaked.

She nodded, and Superman swabbed his cheek with the astounding skill required for something one might do in high school. "Thank you again," said Superman, smiling at her despite the growing crowd around us. "We can't thank you enough, Miss...?"

"Oh, just call me Carlene," she laughed, waving it off. "And our city can't thank you enough, Superman! Who knows how much damage those awful robots would have done without you...?"

"It means a great deal for us to hear that," said Superman graciously. He deserved some praise like that now and again. (Well, all the time, really- but that'd be bad for his ego and whatnot.) "But we'll have to get moving if we want to arrest Mr Jones as soon as possible. Framework?"

"Coming!" I said, and the crowd parted. I looked back. "Thank you, Carlene!"

"No problem, dearie!" she giggled as she waved me goodbye as well. The police were already arriving- but a quick explanation and 'medical reasons', and we were getting a lift in their car to the Labs themselves.

As I sat down on the seat- they had covers to prepare them for picking up people who were bleeding or drunk enough to start vomiting or anything like that, making out sogginess a non-issue- I realised something odd.

I rubbed at my hair. "Hey, how did she get my hair this dry with a coat...?" I questioned incredulously.

Superman looked around the corner from the front seat. "It looks pretty normal to me," he said.

"I can never get my own hair this dry," I grumbled.

"Most people your age have someone else drying it for them," said Superman, and I could hear the slight change in the tone of his voice.

Great. Now, on top of my bike being trashed, Parasite rampaging, my parasite-formula sample probably having been ruined by the water soaking, and Superman not having any powers, the journey was going to be awkward as heck too. What else could go wrong before we put Rudy behind bars?