FAWCETT CITY
OCTOBER 6TH, 2010
09:15 CST

Ski'Lira really hated delivery duty. Multiple hours spent confined to a truck, driving to a random city with some manner of precious cargo requiring utmost care and diligence in transport. Most museums used highly secure trucks and hired hands to escort their priceless artifacts, but the Halls saw no need to outsource their protection.

After all, the Stonechat Museum of Art and History had a reputation.

Only once had thieves made an attempt to take out one of their trucks en route. Their planning had been nearly impeccable, ambushing the truck during a fuel stop. What they hadn't accounted for was the driver.

An irate Shayera, fresh off eight straight hours on a highway, had terrorized them so thoroughly that they'd given up on the endeavor and turned themselves in to the authorities. Later, the Hawks managed to track down the mugshots of the culprits, and they'd all been sporting obvious red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Up until today, Ski'Lira had never done one of these delivery trips solo, as at least one of her parents was always with her. But obviously, this time was a deviation from the norm.

Both Shayera and Katara were held up with prior engagements that couldn't be abandoned, and took much higher priority. Katar had taken a Boom Tube home to Thanagar, as his testimony was needed for a recently reopened case that he'd worked on during his tenure as one of the Wingmen. Shayera was still Earthbound, currently somewhere on the coast of Greenland working with Aquaman.

So, Ski'Lira had packed up a travel bag, selected a few audiobooks, clambered behind the wheel of the truck, and set off on the sixteen hour drive from Louisiana to Wisconsin.

More specifically, Fawcett City, Wisconsin.

The journey passed in that strange haze that one only achieved on long road trips, where it felt both like time was passing in the blink of an eye and as slow as molasses. Literally the most interesting thing she'd seen (other than a few dubious billboards with horrific misspellings that she'd pulled over to the shoulder so that she could take pictures of them to send to Dick and Conner) was a large crater from one of Superman's more monumental fights that was being advertised as a tourist trap.

By the time she'd made it to the museum in Fawcett, experienced the tedious process of checking in with the curators, monitoring the unloading process, and being forced into uncomfortable small talk, she was a little desperate for some time outside before she had to set out again. Knowing the truck would be safe left alone in the museum's loading bay, she followed the curator's helpful directions to Main Street. Her goal was a simple one, find a place that served breakfast food all day.

As she wandered, she allowed the commotion of the city to wash over her, voices mingling and clashing in a strange symphony without direction. It was a tactic that she and her parents used often on patrol, opening up the scope of awareness. Though she wasn't seeking out a crime, she was hoping it would help her track down a sufficient meal.

But that's not quite what happened.

She had made a few solid blocks down Main Street when she heard something that cut through her ambling ambivalence.

"Billy, don't worry about me. You're the one who's bleeding all over the place."

"I'm fine, really. I'm pretty sure my nose isn't broken."

"Oh you're pretty sure. That's reassuring."

The conversation was coming from the upcoming alley, and her vigilante instincts kicked in. Speeding up from her lazy stroll to a determined jog, Skylar made her way towards the mouth of the backstreet. When her shadow cast into the alley, the two present occupants snapped their heads in their direction.

It was two boys, between the ages of ten and thirteen if she were to make a guess. One was currently sprawled on the ground, his shaggy brown hair in disarray, a dull silver crutch latched around one skinny arm. The other boy was crouched next to him, his black hair somehow even messier, two bright blue eyes staring at her with wariness. Of course, the bright scarlet liquid leaking from his nose and dripping down his mouth made him look wild.

Skylar didn't hesitate, sliding her knapsack off her back as she moved further into the alley, kneeling down next to the kids. Flipping the top open, she rummaged through the contents, retrieving the soft white tank top she'd packed as part of her sleepwear.

"Do you mind...?" She made a vague gesture towards the second boy's bleeding face. He just kept his wide eyes locked on her face, but he snapped out of his stupor long enough to give a tentative nod. He also scooted a little closer, which meant she didn't have to maneuver around the splayed legs of the first boy.

Reaching up, she used her fingertips to carefully prod at the bridge of his nose. "It's not broken," she informed him succinctly, folding up the shirt in her hands and pressing the cloth to his face. "Sit up straight and lean forward," she instructed. "Can you hold this in place?"

Doing as she bade, he took over the task of sopping up the blood, leaving her able to check on the other boy. "Any injuries?"

"Just my pride," the brunette answered with a wan smile. "They uh... stole one of my crutches, though. And our wallets."

Skylar's eyes narrowed, voice dropping from reassuring 'first aid' mode to a deadly ice-laden growl. "What."

"Yeah," he continued, grin getting a little tight. "Kind of embarrassing, but they got the jump on us. It's been awhile since they bothered us last, so we hoped they'd moved stomping grounds."

"Which way did they go?" She demanded, standing up. Both boys pointed in unison down the alleyway.

The messy haired boy, voice slightly muffled from the cloth pressed to his face, said "You should be careful, miss."

Skylar ignored that, instead sniffing to try to latch onto a scent trail. A few unpleasant odors hit her, primarily from the dumpster a few meters away, but she did pick up on the distinct (and recent) odor of AXE body spray. Bingo.

"Stay here, don't move, watch my bag," she ordered swiftly, stalking away. Tracking the noxious scent like a well-trained bloodhound, she followed the twists and turns of the back streets of Fawcett.

If she were in her Hawkgirl persona, she merely would have flown from above and located them that way, but she was limited to acting human for the present. That meant climbing up chain link fences the old-fashioned way, avoiding shady characters loitering in corners, and jumping over fallen trash cans.

She found her prey soon enough, as there was nowhere in this urban jungle they could hide from her, with how heavily they reeked.

There were three of them, slightly grungy teenagers far closer to her age than the two young boys they'd attacked. That certainly made this easier. One of them had the stolen crutch in his hands, swinging it around like a baseball bat to swipe at organized rows of empty bottles and cans.

"Hey!" She snapped.

The trio turned to her, and she noticed the exact second they realized they were being confronted by a (traditionally attractive for Terrans) girl. Postures shifted to make themselves look taller, guts were sucked in, and faces twisted into what they probably thought were more handsome expressions.

"Well, hello," the scrawnier of the group crooned, leather jacket emanating a near-overwhelming odor of AXE and cigarette smoke. As if he couldn't look like more of a stereotypical teen movie bully if he tried, he was even wearing half-gloves. "You lost, babe?"

Lip curling into a snarl of distaste at the degrading moniker, she took a threatening step forward. "I'm only going to ask once. Give back everything you stole."

"Ooh," he swaggered closer, brushing his shoulder-length, bleach blonde hair back from his face. "So scary. Let me guess, we give it back, or else? And what exactly do you think you can do to convince me?"

She snap kicked him straight in the gut.

All of his breath left him, and he fell backwards into a puddle, mouth gaping like a fish as he desperately tried to refill his emptied lungs.

Lowering her leg, she wordlessly stared down the other teens, face like stone, and eyes hidden behind her aviators.

The one holding the crutch trembled slightly in place, looking like a particularly strong breeze would knock him over, despite pushing six feet and at least a hundred pounds heavier than her. His lips trembled, and he held out the crutch in a placating manner, face warring with itself whether to redden in embarrassment or pale in fear.

"You will not do this again," she demanded as she took the crutch from him. "The wallets, too. You should be ashamed of yourselves for such loathsome behavior."

"Y-Yes, ma'am." He squeaked, pulling two wallets from his pockets, handing them over to her. "I mean, no ma'am... Yes ma'am?"

Letting out a slight whine, he retreated to the side of the third teen, who had been watching this entire debacle with an aloof, slightly unfocused stare. She sent a thumbs up in Skylar's direction, "Nice hit."

Unsure how exactly to respond to the other teenager, Skylar just ignored her strange lackluster enthusiasm at the long-haired boy's suffering.

Well, she got what she came for, and hopefully knocked some sense into some bullies that would keep them on the right side of morality for the foreseeable future. Though she did make a mental note to tell Captain Marvel to keep an eye out on the three, in case their wrongdoings started to escalate in severity, as she'd likely never see them again.

H

"We can't thank you enough for this, really," the still bloody, but slightly less boy beamed broadly. "It means a lot. Not many people would have stopped and helped like you did."

"I'm not most people," Ski'Lira deadpanned. She stuck her hand out, as it was the polite thing to do. "Skylar Hall."

For a moment, the kid looked like he'd just stuck a fork in an electrical outlet. She chalked the strange reaction up to being unused to proper manners, or maybe he'd just figured out what she'd probably done to get their belongings back. "Billy. Billy Batson." Giving a firm shake of her hand, he inclined his head towards the other boy. "And this is my best friend, Freddy."

"Freddy Freeman, at your service," the brunette did a little bow, expertly balancing on his newly returned crutches.

"Charmed," she replied in monotone. These kids were too cute for their own good (an observation she would never voice aloud).

Good deed done for the day, she scooped her bag up off the ground, fully intent on resuming her hunt for the elusive breakfast food served in the afternoon.

But Billy stopped her, "Is there anything we can do to repay you?"

About to immediately deny the need for any kind of repayment, a thought struck her, "... Do you know any good diners nearby?"

The two boys traded a look, erupting into bright smiles. "Funny you should mention that," Freddy said slowly. "We know just the place."

Ten or so minutes later, she was sitting in a freshly wiped down green vinyl booth, seated across from her two new tagalongs at a diner called Parker and Beck's. A waitress with bright red lipstick had already taken their orders (a complete breakfast with extra bacon for Skylar and two chocolate milkshakes for the boys). Freddy was in the middle of a grand storytelling, complete with exaggerated gestures that nearly took out the salt shakers and napkin dispenser more than once.

"So then bam, all the lights go out and a few of the girls scream. None of us have any idea what's going on, and just when we think it might be a villain attack or something, the principal walks in and tells us that somehow a squirrel had gotten into the electrical box. Power was completely fried, and just like that, we get let out early. Pretty cool, right?"

"Mmm," she agreed idly.

"So Billy and I decided to head here to the diner for milkshakes, because what else are we going to do for the rest of the afternoon." He made a face, "It was a great idea, you know, up until those jerkwads stole our stuff. Good thing you were there to rescue us. Speaking of, you just move here or something? Because no offense, it's pretty obvious you're not a local, because you definitely would have known about Parker and Beck's."

This kid's motormouth could give Wally West a run for his money. Picking out the question from that word salad, she shook her head in the negative. "I'm just here for the day for work, doing a delivery for my parent's museum. After I eat, I'm going to rent a hotel room, sleep, and then drive back to St. Roch."

Only two thirds of that explanation was true. Instead of needlessly spending money on an overpriced hotel stay, she'd be using the Fawcett City Zeta Point to teleport over to the Cave, sleep in her room there, and then zap herself back here to retrieve the truck and drive back down.

"That's a pretty long travel time," Billy mused. "Isn't it boring?"

Offering a noncommittal shrug, she stuffed a large bite of waffle into her mouth.

"So, who's your favorite superhero?" Freddy's abrupt question was ill-timed, as she fought to chew and swallow her present bite of food.

"Green Lantern," she answered once her mouth was clear, the response the same as it had been since she was a little girl.

"Oooh, good choice." Freddy approved, "Mine's Superman. You know, for a St. Roch girl, I expected you to pick Hawkman or Hawkwoman."

"What about Hawkgirl?" Billy had a slight smirk on his face.

"I'm talking League heroes." His friend insisted, taking a long draw of his milkshake. "Sidekicks are a whole different category."

Skylar raised a brow at the brunette, a little irritated at being referred to as 'girl' by someone at least four years younger than her. "You're a Fawcett boy, shouldn't Captain Marvel be your favorite?"

His mouth opened, and then closed, holding up his index finger, "Okay, I concede that point. For the record, Captain Marvel is my second favorite hero. Now, sidekicks. Favorite. Go."

That question was far more complicated to answer, seeing as the other sidekicks were all close friends of hers, picking a favorite felt... strange. But if she was looking from the standpoint of a civilian, completely unaffiliated with the heroes on a personal level... "Robin, I guess. I haven't considered it much, to be honest. You?"

"Aqualad's pretty cool. Especially with those water weapon things," Freddy struck a pose as if holding swords (poorly, mind you). His antics earned a round of snickering from his best friend. "Or Hawkgirl, she's badass as heck. I saw this video posted online once where she headbutted a guy and he just instantly got knocked out!"

Hawkgirl had headbutted a lot of people in her life, so she had no clue exactly which incident he was referring to.

"I think they're all great!" Billy blurted.

Rolling his eyes, Freddy reached over and playfully shoved the other boy. "Billy never picks favorites."

"How could I? They're all awesome in their own way!"

As Freddy launched into a long-winded rant about the pros and cons of every superhero in the League (which was entertaining on so many levels), Skylar tucked into her breakfast. When her plate was emptied and the younger boys chattering starting to lose steam, Skylar flagged down the waitress and paid the bill for all three of them with her debit card.

"How much do I owe you?" Billy started to dig his slightly scuffed wallet out of his back pocket.

She held up a hand to still his searching, "Nothing, it was my treat."

"But-"

"You've made my day considerably less boring, consider that your payment." The waitress returned with receipt on hand, and Skylar stuffed the slip of paper into the front pocket of her jacket, sliding out of the booth. "I have to get going, but this... was nice. And stop going in alleys, that's just asking for trouble."

The vinyl underneath Billy made a harsh squeak sound as he climbed out after her, "Uh, thanks so much! For saving us and then hanging out with us. You're... pretty awesome, Skylar."

"Almost as cool as a real superhero," Freddy added sincerely. "But if you start running around in a costume, I'll have to reconsider your ranking on the cool scale."

She couldn't help but snort at that, "I'll take it into consideration. Stay safe." As she started to walk away towards the door, she suddenly felt a hand grasp the back of her jacket.

Behind her, Billy dug around in his pockets again, presenting a slightly battered phone with a sliding keyboard. "To keep in touch? You know, in case you ever get lost in Fawcett again?"

Her innate need for privacy made her unsure whether to accept, but the way he was looking at her, so eager to make a new friend... It reminded her of Conner, how lost he'd looked sitting on that bench in the park.

Exhaling through her nose, she took the phone, tapping in her number as a new contact before she could change her mind.

"I hope you realize I will be stealing that number from his phone." Freddy piped up from where he was trying to slurp up the last dregs of his milkshake from the bottom of the cup. "You know, in case someone mugs me again and I need someone to get my stuff back."

"I'll keep that in mind."

H

Mount Justice was blissfully devoid of occupants, an expected outcome considering it was the middle of a school day. The only one who had a chance of being present was Kaldur, but that was only if his two day visit to Atlantis was cut short. Instead of heading straight off to bed, she changed into workout friendly clothes and headed outside. After a truly incredible number of hours spent in a truck, she was antsy for a nice, long flight.

Just flying over the ocean wasn't enough to burn off the excess of energy, so she started meticulously executing flight maneuvers, further increasing in difficulty. She didn't stop until her muscles were burning with exertion, and she glided back to headquarters.

After some cool down stretches and a quick shower to rid her skin of sweat and salt from the ocean spray, she slipped into pajamas, plugged her phone in to charge, and practically fell into bed.

She awoke naturally some amount of time later, a glance at her phone's screen confirming it was around eight in the morning. Taking care of necessary business in the bathroom, she changed into a comfortable oversized hoodie and the most worn pair of jeans she owned. Ski'Lira was fully about to leave her room bare faced, but she remembered the possibility of other people showing up during her nap. Crossing to a panel by the door, she pressed part of the screen to access the Cave interface. "Computer, list all individuals currently within headquarters."

"Robin, B01 and Superboy, B05."

She grabbed her aviators, seeing as the only two other people currently around knew what her face looked like, she didn't need to bother with her casual mask. Knapsack slung over her shoulder, she left her room and headed towards the lounge.

She heard her two friends well before she saw them.

"It's the old guy, right?"

"My money's on the heiress. She's so guilty."

"… But it's always the old man. This show isn't very creative."

"Scooby-Doo is a pinnacle of storytelling and there isn't anything you can say to tell me other-"

"The old man did it. See?"

"… So not asterous."

"Fighting over Scooby-Doo? What a sight to walk into."

Robin leapt out of his seat like a startled cat, while Superboy just looked mildly inconvenienced by her sudden appearance. "Where the heck did you come from?!" Dick demanded, pointing an accusing finger at her. "Did you hack the system so it wouldn't announce you? Sneak in the front entrance?"

She just stared at him, wondering if he'd been drinking coffee. "I was here before you were?"

Conner's brow furrowed, "Then why haven't we seen you?"

"Because I was asleep. I didn't realize that was a crime." Dropping her bag off on the empty armchair, Ski'Lira made a beeline for the kitchen. After flipping open more than a few cabinets, she located a small collection of travel mugs, and started making herself some tea for the road.

"Is... everything alright?" She looked up from where she had been filling the kettle. Dick and Conner had joined her in the kitchen, the former the one to have spoken. "You know, at home?"

Her slightly sleep-muddled brain didn't compute at first, "What? Oh, yeah. It was just easier to crash here for a few hours, I'm... technically working right now. Day job."

It was clear her hasty explanation did nothing to assuage their mutual worry or confusion.

Flicking on the burner and setting the kettle atop it, Ski'Lira crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter. "Yesterday I drove a truck of valuables up to Fawcett City and I slept here instead of a hotel room, because they're expensive and gross. I'll be heading back to Fawcett soon to make the drive back, once I get a message they're finished loading the truck."

"That's like a fifteen hour drive!" Dick's expression was sickened by the mere thought. "Why don't you just... teleport the goods?"

"It's a matter of insurance," she answered. "The delivery truck's fitted with a GPS, so if something goes wrong, there's documentation. Since progress is tracks so closely... no teleporting. Gotta keep up that veneer of humanity."

"And it's just you?" Conner prompted. "That seems... dangerous. What if you're attacked?"

"It won't." Her slight laugh was covered up by the whistling of the kettle, and she turned off the heat. As she went through the motions of pouring the water and steeping the tea, she continued, "The last time a truck from Stonechat was attacked was two years ago and no attempt has been made since. Now they just go for the source and try to break in to the museum itself."

"... That's stupid, though." Dick blinked in befuddlement. "Like, really stupid."

"Stupid or desperate." She corrected. Her phone dinged in her pocket, a check confirming it was work-related. "Well, that's my cue to depart. I'll see you both tomorrow for training."

"Have a safe trip," Dick said as she began gathering her belongings. "Wait, here." He tossed a couple of protein bars at her from Wally's stash, flashing her a thumbs up.

"Call if you get bored or something," Conner added, already on his way back to the couch to watch more cartoons.

H

In a burst of fortune, the chatty curator she'd spoken to yesterday was absent, so her assistant handled turning the truck back over to Ski'Lira. As promised with the initial deal, fodder for a new exhibit was carefully ensconced in the back, ready to be taken back to St. Roch for the foreseeable future. Included within was the true motivation behind the cross-museum deal, a small gathering of artifacts that had been flagged as 'potential magical trouble'.

For the beginning of her journey back to St. Roch, Skylar opted to forgo starting up her audio book and instead listen to the radio. Though that decision was met with instant regret as a familiar opening guitar riff was playing... Hysteria by Muse.

One of Roy's favorite songs.

"You're gonna like this, I promise." Roy's grin was wide as he held out an earbud for her to take, its twin already in his own ear. "This is one of my all time favorites."

"It's... good." She admitted after listening in appreciative silence. "I think I do like it."

"I've got every Muse album on here, if you want to listen more." He suggested. "What do you think? Listen and play some Mortal Kombat until Ollie chases us outside?"

"... That sounds fun."

Her hand moved to the dial, fully prepared to change the station... but she paused.

Instead, she let out a long breath and settled back into her seat.

About halfway through the song, something caught in her peripheral vision. In the left lane was a sizable black SUV, windows tinted black. Not a wholly unusual sight in and of itself... but it was the presence of an identical vehicle displayed in her rearview mirror that made it suspicious. With the intent to test the situation, she pressed a little harder on the accelerator. Her gut sunk when the vehicles matched her pace.

And then a third one appeared on her right.

Evaluating her options, she maintained a steady speed while also looking for a potential opening. Since she was in the middle lane of the interstate, there was very little opportunity to work with. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel as the leftmost SUV started to creep threateningly to the right.

The only real option was to keep accelerating and avoid being boxed in, but the presence of a minivan directly in front of her made it impossible, and like hell was going to endanger any civilians.

As the SUV pressed in closer, she was forced to veer to the right to avoid a direct collision. To her surprise, the right SUV was... turning with her? A glimpse of a turn off ramp approaching rapidly ahead made her understand. They were leading her right into a pre-planned trap.

It was with grit teeth that she allowed herself to be led, for now at least. Reaching over to her knapsack sitting on the passenger seat, she dug out her comm unit from where it had been safely stowed away. She didn't activate it right away, wanting to see if she could handle this situation alone before calling in backup.

The three SUV's kept her firmly boxed in, forcefully escorting her towards the off-ramp. The GPS immediately started screaming at her that she was deviating from the route, so she turned it off to prevent further headaches.

It wasn't long before Ski'Lira saw the end goal, a makeshift roadblock made of two more of the blacked out SUVs, with the addition of a pickup truck that had some kind of contraption sitting in the bed. Focusing her vision, she tried to make out exactly what the device was. She just managed to make out a sharp edge and a tripod before it activated.

Metal glinted in the sun, heading straight for her.

Throwing herself against the door, she ducked in time as the head of a giant harpoon punched through the windshield. Glass sprayed all through the interior, littering the floor and her clothes with glinting shards. A cable attached to the harpoon reeled in and pulled taught, preventing any backward movement.

She felt a slight sting on her cheek, no doubt from an errant shard slicing upon skin, but that was easily ignored. Undoing her seatbelt, she hunkered down further as the doors of the SUV's flung open, armored goons pouring out and surrounding the vehicle.

Now was the time to call for help.

Activating her comm, she dropped her tone to avoid being overheard. "Hawkgirl to Justice League, requesting immediate backup. I'm stuck playing civilian."

"Understood, Hawkgirl." Martian Manhunter was the one who answered, "Please transmit current location if you can."

"I'm in Fawcett City," as requested, she pressed the comm unit's activation button three times in quick succession, triggering the GPS locator. The ping would lead them to her exact position.

"The nearest League member is being sent to your location. Remain safe, Hawkgirl."

There was barely any time to rip out her comm and stuff it into a hiding place in her boot before two thugs shot open the window of the driver's side door, punching out a larger hole with the end of their guns.

One of them reached into the cab to drag her out, and she lashed out with a kick, catching him in the wrist strong enough to make him cry out in surprise and pain. She'd put enough force into it to at least fracture bone, but he wasn't deterred for long.

A hand latched onto her hair and the other around her arm, and she was bodily dragged through the jagged remains of the window.

Sharp, dragging pain radiated from her left leg as her shin caught on the broken glass, cutting through the flimsy material of her old jeans and into flesh in a long, bloody line. Hissing, she struggled as much as she could allow herself in her civilian persona.

Skylar was thrown into the middle of the road before the truck. Clambering into an upright position, she was met with the muzzles of multiple guns aimed her way. Thoroughly caught, she could only watch with a distasteful sneer on her face as the goons headed for the back of the truck, planting some kind of localized explosive onto the rear lock to open it.

The door of the black pickup truck's passenger side swung open, and out stepped the mastermind of the operation.

A weasel-faced little old man with perfectly round spectacles and a high-collared lab coat.

Dr. Sivana... she really should have known, considering where she was.

"Don't you worry, my dear, we'll be on our way soon enough." The villain's voice was downright grating as he approached, hands held carefully behind his back. "I just need to liberate you of a certain piece of your... previous cargo. You see," he began to monologue, literally striking a pose. How the hell did Captain Marvel take this guy seriously? "I've had my eyes on the Gem of Serket for quite some time, but alas, my attempts to acquire it before were thwarted by the Big Red Cheese! Imagine my glee when I learned it was to be transported, by a single civilian nonetheless! I couldn't pass up such an opportunity. I will not allow myself to fail again!"

She raised a brow, "Are you done?"

Dr. Sivana's manic grin faltered ever so slightly, "I beg your pardon?"

"Are you done waxing poetic about your past failures?" She clarified. "Because I really couldn't care less about your plan for... world domination or whatever."

"... But I'm stealing from you." Dr. Sivana said slowly, as if he was unsure if she could speak English or not. "I am actively robbing you. My men have you surrounded! Are you not terrified?"

"Not particularly," she shrugged. "Why would I be scared of a little man like you? You look like a strong breeze would take you out."

His face twisted with rage, which certainly didn't do him any favors in the looks department. "Who are you, one who dares to insult the greatest supervillain Fawcett City has ever seen?!"

"Someone who's stalling until the cavalry gets here."

"Someone who's what?"

There was a blur of red, a ripple of buffeting wind as all of the goons suddenly found themselves sans weaponry. With the prevalent threat of being shot gone, Ski'Lira jumped to her feet and slammed a palm straight into the face of the nearest thug, following up with a punch to the solar plexus that sent him writhing and gasping to the ground.

Opening created for herself, she made a run for her delivery truck.

"Fear not, citizen!" A charismatic, reassuringly familiar voice boomed out, obviously putting on grandiose airs for the benefit of the supervillain present. "Captain Marvel is here!"

"My greatest enemy!" Dr. Sivana screeched, "I will not be foiled again! The Gem of Serket will be mine!"

Very real effort was put into actively resisting her urge to go back and punch the weasel into the dirt. Instead, she focused on making sure the contents of the truck were secured.

Only two thugs remained behind, continuing their work to break in.

Darting around the corner, she caught the first one by surprise, knuckles digging deep into his side where the body armor had a prominent gap in coverage. Ski'Lira could have dealt a blow that would have taken him out in one hit, but she had to pull the punch to maintain her cover as just a very enthusiastic civilian who had some kind of training.

The goon was more inconvenienced by the strike than anything else, but she used his disorientation to grab one of his arms and twist, kicking out his knee. He fell like a rock, landing face first onto the tarmac with an audible crunch.

A fist swung at her face as the other mercenary stepped up to the plate. She allowed it to connect, but it didn't do much more than reopen the barely formed scab on her cheek. Grabbing him by the back of the elbow, she yanked him forward and slammed him into the metal door of the truck over and over, until his body went limp. She snapped out a kick to the first goon as he leveraged himself onto his hands and knees, knocking him out before he could attempt to attack her again.

Flinging open the blasted open door, she did a swift catalogue of the interior to make sure everything was intact. Not a single one of the protective crates had been visibly tampered with, which was a good sign. Judging from the noise outside, Captain Marvel had things well in hand, but she still moved to stand before the doors just in case one of the other hired hands tried anything.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, as she would have relished in the opportunity to take down a few more of these guys), a grinning, triumphant Captain Marvel appeared as the Fawcett City police finally responded. Late they may be, but they were ready to round up the newly apprehended villain and his tagalongs.

"Hello, miss!" He greeted with his usual blinding smile. "You seem to be severely injured, so I'd like to escort you personally to the hospital! I'll get you there much faster than an ambulance!" Marvel dropped his voice to a near whisper. "I'm not actually, I'm supposed to take you to the Cave."

"Thanks for the help, Captain Marvel," she said, loud enough for any passerby to overhear, before she too quieted her voice. "Pick me up, it'll make it more believable."

He was hesitant to do so, "Are you... sure?"

"Yes. Don't make me say it again."

Giving her an acknowledging nod, he carefully hoisted her up into his arms so she was being held in a princess carry. It was a little humiliating, and uncomfortable from how squished her wings here by his massive biceps. But if anyone happened to snap photos or video of the incident, it would help cement her cover. Lo and behold, she caught sight of a few telltale flashes as he carried her a few steps before taking to the air.

The flight was blissfully short, thanks to Captain Marvel's impressive speed, and she soon found herself being let down in front of the Zeta Access Point.

"I've got to head back and escort Sivana to jail, but um... that still looks pretty bad?" The hero was pointing to her still-bleeding leg. "Are you sure you don't want me to just... carry you all the way?"

"It's just a bad scrape, I'll be fine. Thanks for the save, Marvel." She limped inside under her own power, unwilling to keep up the damsel in distress game if she didn't have to. The last thing she saw before being spirited away was a final wave of farewell from the Captain.

"Recognized: Hawkgirl, B07"

Conner and Dick both froze in place, their spar interrupted by her abrupt arrival. Dick looked at her, then down at her leg, then back up to her face. "You were gone for twenty minutes."

H

Da'mi: The museum's sending someone to pick up the truck and Wonder Woman has graciously offered to escort it.

Sky: Did you figure out why Sivana was after it? He said something about a gem?

Da'mi: The Gem of Serket. It has a legend surrounding it, that it's a conduit for mystic power, sort of like a battery. That's part of the reason why we wanted it.

Sky: ... You say legend... Is it not then?

Da'mi: Purely unfounded rumor, it's just a big ruby. I had Zatara check it out last month before we made the deal, but since that's not public knowledge.

Sky: So it was all for nothing?

Da'mi: I wouldn't say that. Sivana was arrested again, which I'm sure Captain Marvel's happy about. Plus, our reputation was successfully upheld. We were due for providing another reminder anyway. Not to mention there were several actual minor magical artifacts in that truck, so... And if anyone tries for it again, the Gem of Serket will be behind Stonechat security.

Sky: Yeah, that could have been bad.

Da'mi: Don't forget that tomorrow you'll have to give a statement to the police and the insurance company. I do not want to have to pay out of pocket for truck repairs.

Sky: I won't forget.

Closing out of the text chain with her mother, Ski'Lira turned off her phone and placed it back into her pocket, cautious not to move her lower body.

"There, good as new." Tying off the knot of her stitches, Black Canary set aside the needle and leftover thread she'd used to suture her leg closed. The woman retrieved a roll of gauze and started to wrap the wound. "How's it feel?"

"Itchy," she answered truthfully. "I can already feel it knitting back together. Inconvenient, more than anything."

"I can imagine." Canary finished with the wrapping, and removed her bloodied gloves. "I know you hate playing civilian, but... you did a good job today, Skylar."

She scoffed at the praise which was, in her opinion, unearned. "What, taking down two thugs and getting my leg sliced open?"

"Maintaining your cover and still managing to keep your quarry safe." Dinah corrected. "You know, if you put your mind to it... I think you could do well in undercover work. Have you considered it before?"

Skylar's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "No? I mean, obviously I have some training, considering how hard I have to work to blend in here. I haven't really... thought about specializations yet."

The older woman gave her knee a fond pat. "I'm definitely not asking you to make any choices now, you're still only sixteen, you have time. Just something for you to think about. Now, I'm sure that you want out of here, so I'll let you go. I think Conner and Dick are still in the lounge if you want to join them instead of heading home right away."

"I'll do that. Thank you," inclining her head a little, Ski'Lira hopped off the bed, dragging her slightly injured self out of the med bay.

A slow-paced saunter later, she plopped down heavily on the green couch next to Conner, propping her smarting leg up on the coffee table. "What are we watching now?"

"Danny Phantom," Dick answered.

"What happened to Scooby-Doo?"

"He got mad because I guessed the bad guy right more than him." Conner added, earning a scathing glare from their younger friend.

She shot Dick a teasing smirk, "Aren't you supposed to be a detective?"

"Oh, shut up."