MOUNT JUSTICE
OCTOBER 12TH, 2010
20:34 EDT

Ski'Lira had no intention of ending up at the mountain at eight thirty, especially on a night with zero scheduled training sessions or hangouts. It was technically a school night, for everyone except for her and Aqualad of course, since they both ran on their own schedules. One of the benefits of online classes, she could maintain whatever strange hours she wanted as long as all the work was completed on time (and she was very diligent about doing so).

Not to mention, she was growing a little sick of being here, as she and the Team had spent most of their free time over the past two days carrying out Batman's punishment for sneaking off. Since they'd technically saved the entire planet and Red Tornado, they had gotten off relatively easy.

Relatively still meant cleaning every room in the base with no powers or abilities.

She had been forced to use a ladder, as even the use of her wings had been forbidden.

The sole reason she was here right now instead of preparing for her nightly patrol was to restock her room with a couple extra pairs of pajamas and casual wear. Based on the frequency the Team were finding themselves spending full days and nights here, she figured it was better to be overprepared.

However, any hopes of this being a quick errand were dashed when she came across a silently crying M'Gann baking up a frenzy in the kitchen.

Almost every countertop was cluttered by either fully finished baked goods (cupcakes, cake pops, cookies, brownies, muffins, and even a couple of cakes) or batter and frosting-smeared bowls and utensils. In her arms was the largest metal mixing bowl they had, filled with cookie batter that M'Gann was visibly struggling to mix with a spatula.

A slew of panicked possible questions poured through her brain, 'Are you stress baking?' 'Who did this?' 'Who do I need to kill?' 'Should I call Dick to help me hide the body?' 'Is it something else?' 'Should I call someone for you?' 'Do you need a hug?'.

Instead what came out of her mouth was, "What's up with you?"

Swiping at her face with the back of her hand to rid her cheeks of tears, M'Gann only succeeded in smearing damp flour everywhere. "Tomorrow is the Bumblebee Charity Festival. It's not really a festival, it's just like, a bunch of booths set up in the school gym after school with all different things like games or raffles or stuff like bracelets and pins for sale, and two weeks ago when we started planning I volunteered for one of the two baked good stands, but the girl I was supposed to run it with, Abigail, went down really sick, like 'emergency hospital visit' sick, so I have to cover all of the baking she can't do. Plus, I have to transport all of this by myself without using my powers, because I have to play human. And Conner promised me he'd help, but an hour ago Black Canary told him that he had a mandatory two-day long strength management training seminar with Wonder Woman, because she has an extremely limited schedule and they even excused him from school for it with the excuse of a fake dental procedure and this might be his only chance to train with her for like, months and that's so much more important and I couldn't possibly ask them to reschedule and I still can't get these cookies right!"

Throwing down the bowl down on the counter, cookie dough, excess flour, and goopy egg splattered all over the front of her apron. "Why am I crying, I shouldn't be crying over something so... dumb!"

Blinking once, then twice from absolute astonishment over that long-winded rant, Ski'Lira wasn't... entirely sure how to proceed from here. But she had to at least try. "Can the other... bake stand help? If they're doing the same thing..."

"I don't want to bother them," M'Gann admitted with reluctance, her cheeks coloring from her upset. "I promised everyone I could handle it on my own, so..."

As the Martian girl retrieved her discarded bowl and set to work trying to salvage her cookie dough, the wheels in Ski'Lira's head were turning. "... This is tomorrow?"

"Yeah, right after school ends. But all of us working get to leave class early to help set up, so like around two?" M'Gann affirmed, voice still slightly choked as she recovered from her crying fit.

"I can get a car by then."

Pausing mid-stir, M'Gann's head shot up so fast she nearly risked whiplash. "... What?"

"A car," Ski'Lira repeated. "To ferry all this to the school. And then I can help you carry them in. And help run the stand, if I'm allowed... Am I?"

Internally, Ski'Lira was screaming at the prospect of willingly volunteering at a public school function, but her friend was upset, which superseded all discomfort.

"I mean... Yeah?" M'Gann was thoroughly thrown. "Alexandra's having her two younger sisters help her run one of the game booths and Katie's friend is going to be working the raffle with her... But you... Actually want to help me?"

"Is it really that unbelievable?" At M'Gann's pointed look, she shrugged. "As much as I detest the prospect of stepping into a public school for anything less than fighting super-intelling androids or assassins, you're currently having a breakdown and can't figure out a solution on your own. I can help fix it, so I'm going to."

There was a blur of motion as M'Gann dropped her mixing bowl a second time, hurtling towards her and wrapping her arms around the Thanagarian (and smearing flour and batter all over her clean shirt in the process). "Oh, Hawkgirl, thank you!"

"I demand repayment in the form of at least two of those Red Velvet cupcakes."

M'Gann's arms tightened as she laughed in delight. "You can have the whole batch."

H

"DA'MI!"

"WHAT?!"

"I NEED HELP WITH CLOTHES!"

"WE CAN GO SHOPPING TOMORROW! IT'S AFTER NINE O'CLOCK, NOTHING WILL BE OPEN!"

"I NEED HELP PICKING CLOTHES!"

"WELL WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST SAY SO?"

A frustrated huff left Ski'Lira as she heard her mother ascending the stairs at a lethargic pace. The moment the older Thanagarian stepped into the room, her eyes widened at the mess within. "Ski'Lira Hol, what have you done to your room?"

The usually tidy and organized space was completely changed, looking like an explosive had gone off in her closet and deposited the contents across her bed and floor. Shirts, pants, shoes, even a few scarcely used skirts and dresses were thrown haphazardly across her bedroom.

"I'm not helping you pick all of this up." Shayera said drily, clearing off a corner of the bed so that she could sit down and watch this chaos unfold in comfort. "This is entirely your mess."

"That's not what I need help with." Ski'Lira insisted. "I need... I need to look as harmless as possible tomorrow."

Her mother raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Oh? For what occasion?"

"It doesn't matter."

"On the contrary, I need to know the entire scope of the situation so I can judge an appropriate outfit."

Shoulders slumping, Ski'Lira angled her head away to avoid looking her mother in the eyes. "... I'm helping M'Gann run a bake sale."

In a flash, her mother had her phone in hand and ready to record. "I'm sorry, but can you repeat that? I didn't quite catch it the first time."

"Da'mi..." Skylar groaned, cheeks reddening ever so slightly. "Come on."

Making no move to put the phone away, Shayera prompted her again. "Because I think you just said you were helping M'Gann with a bake sale. This requires video evidence."

"You mean blackmail?"

"It's the same thing, really." It was apparent from Shayera's expression exactly who Ski'Lira had inherited her own shark-like grin from. Chuckling quietly, the older woman relented and tucked her phone away. She stood and eyed the plethora of clothing items available. "Alright, so, bake sale. What should we go for? There's 'demure teenager'... you'd have to stay hunched over for hours like you're self-conscious of your height, but... I'd rather you not risk muscle strain or damaging your spine."

And here was the reason why Ski'Lira had gone to her mother for help, her training in espionage. Figuring out how to best blend into any setting was what Shayera was built best for, and who was she to not take advantage of that in order to fool a bunch of humans into thinking she was just as Terran as they were?

Sorting through the garments and holding them up to others, Shayera took a good chunk of time before settling on a winning outfit. To be sure, she instructed her daughter to try it on.

She ended up in a loose black tank with 'Sleeves are for Nerds' printed in bold white lettering, over which was draped a sleeveless purple cardigan, with basic denim skinny jeans and her newest pair of black combat boots. The draping fabrics hid her wings well without suffocating the appendages. For facial obfuscation she donned her customary aviators, with a white Metropolis Meteors baseball cap crammed over her head.

The result? She looked like a normal teen... Well, a normal teen with killer biceps, but that could be easily explained away by feigned active participation in some kind of outdoor activity. Like freeclimbing. Or kayaking.

Before she could be stopped, Shayera had snapped a picture, tapping at the screen furiously.

"Where are you sending that?" Ski'Lira demanded, contemplating making a dive for the phone.

"Oh, just to a few people. You know."

"... You put it in the League group chat, didn't you?"

"... Perhaps." Her mother grinned. "I needed some photographic evidence of this momentous occasion! I just wish your father was here to see this."

"It's just a volunteer gig at a school my friend goes to." Ski'Lira argued. "It's a dumb human thing. She just needed help driving all of her stuff there and getting rid of it for charity. It's not that big a deal."

"Considering this is the first and likely only time you're willingly participating in an actual school event on Earth, I'd say it is a big deal... Wait, drive? With what car?"

"From a rental place in Happy Harbor, already paid for it and everything."

That earned her a look of incredulity. "You aren't old enough to rent a car."

"But I do have a friend who knows how to hack."

Shayera pinched the bridge of her nose. "Am I going to have to call Bruce about this?"

"Who do you think paid the rental fee?"

"I suppose I can't fault you on your problem solving," she tugged teasingly at the end of her daughter's braid. "And extorting money from a billionaire. Good job."

The nonchalant air that Ski'Lira had mustered, dimmed, "... Do you really think I can pull this off?" She didn't need the encouragement, it would... be nice to have it, though.

"As much as I'd love to claim faith in your abilities, I know you're probably going to punch someone out within the first hour. But that's fine, as long as you don't get arrested."

"I'll try not to." Ski'Lira deadpanned, finding her spirits already returned to her previous level of determination.

"It's not like you to worry over something like this. Feeling alright?" A hand was placed on her forehead as if checking for a fever.

"I'm not sick." Batting away her mother's hand, she stepped back so she was safely out of range. "I just... don't want to make this worse for M'Gann. This is important to her and I don't want to screw it up."

"Fledgling, don't be an idiot. No matter what happens, that girl is still going to think the world of you for even offering to help."

"Yeah, well, forgive me for not wanting to take any chances."

A soft chuffing noise came from Shayera's throat, one of the rare occasions where she dared a non-human vocalization. "You won't lose her friendship over one incident. She's not Roy."

Ski'Lira felt an uncomfortable lump in her throat. The moment her worries had stopped being inside thoughts, she knew she'd said too much. There was no way she'd have been able to get the real source of her inner turmoil past her mother. It was just like her to find the root of an issue by dissecting a single sentence.

"One of these days, he's going to realize what a mistake he made, throwing away your loyalty."

The topic was quickly dropped, likely as Shayera recognized how reluctant Ski'Lira was to continue the conversation. Instead, she instructed her to change into her most comfortable set of pajamas and head downstairs for popcorn and a movie, something packed with an unnecessary amount of explosions and little to no plot.

H

MOUNT JUSTICE
OCTOBER 13TH, 2010
14:16 EDT

"Hey, Hawkgirl! Whoa! Where did all this come from?"

Ski'Lira stopped, her arms laden with two carefully covered platters bearing brownies, expression neutral as she stared down Captain Marvel. "M'Gann has a bake sale today."

"That's cool!" His grin was wide, his default facial expression. "Do you want any help?"

"... I wouldn't turn it down... But isn't there something more important you should be doing right now?"

"I am doing something important!" He argued as he snatched up a few cardboard containers of cupcakes. "Helping you!"

"You know, you don't need to be here all the time, right?" Ski'Lira explained slowly as she led the way outside. "Den Mother duties usually only apply when we're here."

"I'm here for Wolf, actually. Superboy asked me to play with him and take him out on walks so he doesn't get bored while he's busy. I was wondering why M'Gann couldn't do it, but I get it now."

Making a noncommittal hum to indicate she'd heard him, they reached her rented car, a nondescript black hatchback parked in the hangar. At her direction, Captain Marvel slid the trays into the spacious trunk. With his eager aid, the task took half of the number of trips she'd initially calculated in order to put everything into the transport.

"What about this one?" Marvel asked as they did a final sweep of the kitchen for stray boxes, holding aloft a smaller cardboard container.

"That one's mine," she answered. "You can take a few of them, if you want."

His blue eyes went wide, practically sparkling. "Really? That's super nice of you, thanks!"

"It's... no problem." Marvel's saccharine personality was still taking some getting used to. She waited patiently for him to carefully extract three of the cupcakes from the box before taking it from him. Grabbing a marker from the kitchen's junk drawer, she scrawled 'Property of Hawkgirl, You Eat These, Your Life is Forfeit' on the outside before storing them in the fridge. It was unlikely any of her teammates (cough, Wally, cough) would end up here before she had a chance to retrieve them, but it wasn't a risk she was willing to take.

"I'd better get going. Last I saw, Wolf was sleeping in Conner's room."

"Thanks again! Have fun at the bake sale!" With a parting wave, he disappeared from view, no doubt off to coerce a massive mutated canine out of his nap, leaving her to make the walk alone back out to her car.

Thanks to low traffic, the drive to Happy Harbor High School only took about fifteen minutes. One of the benefits of being out and about at two o'clock on a weekday.

A careful driver by nature (road laws and etiquette were made to be followed, dammit), Ski'Lira was even more cautious as she had to keep a keen ear out for the telltale shifting of boxes in the back. The last thing she wanted was to turn up with all of M'Gann's meticulously frosted cupcakes smashed and ruined. This was almost like some kind of escort mission, with perhaps the lowest stakes she'd ever experienced.

For someone who was regularly involved in transporting priceless artifacts and paintings via vehicle, this was a cakewalk.

Once her GPS had successfully directed her to the school, she followed M'Gann's earlier provided instructions and headed to the back parking lot nearest the gym. Judging by the presence of at least five other cars being unloaded of various goods, she was in the right place. After finding as close of a spot as she could manage, she carefully parked, grabbed her phone off the charger, and climbed out of the vehicle.

"Hey!" M'Gann's cheery voice was unmistakable as she jogged through the propped open gym doors. The opening provided a glimpse into the balloon, streamer, and banner covered monstrosity within. "Got everything?"

Unlocking the trunk, Ski'Lira let the confection-crammed car speak for itself. "I had some help from an overeager friend who was already around for dog-sitting." She traced a lightning bolt onto her chest with a finger.

"That was super nice of him!" M'Gann glanced back at the door. "Well, the booth's all set up, so we just have to carry all these in. Oh, hello Megan!" She smacked herself in the head. "I can't believe I almost forgot, wait here for a second." Dashing back inside, she left Skylar waiting awkwardly near the pile of baked goods for a solid minute.

When M'Gann returned, it was with a blank neon yellow and black, bee-shaped name tag in hand, along with a purple Sharpie. Said name tag matched the one the redhead already had pinned to her cardigan, her name written in incredibly loopy cursive.

"Here! Since you're sort of a temporary Bumblebee employee, you'll need this. You know, so no one will kick you out or anything. I mean, this festival is open to the public, so they probably wouldn't care too much, but better safe than sorry, right?"

Wordlessly, Skylar took the offered items. For a moment, she leaned towards writing a simple 'Sky' on the tag, but then she had a much better idea.

In blocky capital letters, she wrote 'Robin'.

When M'Gann saw the name she'd used, she did a double take. "Is that... your real name?"

"Nope, just borrowing it." Her answer made the other girl laugh.

Now, they could actually get to work.

Before, she had only seen the briefest glimpse into the high-school cliche decorations, but it didn't prepare her for the sheer amount of yellow and black themed cheap paper and latex within. Not only were there solid black and yellow balloons just sort of... piled up in corners and taped to similarly hued tablecloths and banners, but someone had splurged on an entire hive's worth of mylar bumblebee balloons.

There was a multitude of foldout tables that had been turned into makeshift 'booths', decorated with cheap posterboard, foamcore, and dollar store props to make them more individualized. A good number boasted sold goods like bracelets or keychains, others had rudimentary games like tossing darts at balloons or knocking over pyramids of cans, and even a face painting station.

"Remind me again what this is for?" Skylar asked as she and M'Gann focused on organizing all of the baked goods on their own table, which was actually three folding tables set up in a 'U' shape.

"The Bumblebees always do a charity drive before Halloween." M'Gann started to explain as she centered cupcakes and brownies on their platters to make them look more appealing (all the while wearing gloves, of course, hygiene was very important). "It's sort of a school thing, but kind of not? It's complicated, but the result is that we raise money for local hospital children's wards so they can buy costumes and candy for the kids."

"That's... pretty cool, actually."

"Yeah, it really is. Oh, hey!"

The brunette was a little confused by her friend's sudden exclamation, but a glance up from her work setting up her own little station (as she'd been put in charge of the money box), confirmed the arrival of a few newcomers. Two girls and one boy approached, the latter of whom towered over his companions, a brightly colored Superman shirt stretched across his chest.

"I knew you'd pull it off." The curly-haired girl in the front was beaming, her hand popped on her hip as she surveyed the booth. "I was worried you'd be stuck handling this all alone, but it looks like you've got some help."

"Yeah!" M'Gann, mindful of her gloved hands, leaned over and bumped her shoulder to Ski'Lira's. "This is one of my friends, Robin! Robin, this is Karen and Wendy, my fellow Bumblebees, and this is Karen's boyfriend, Mal!"

With great reluctance, she offered a slight wave. "Hi." Her head tilted to the side as something struck a chord. "Mal?"

"Uh... yeah?" The boy was visibly confused by being addressed directly.

"Hm. Conner's mentioned you."

Mal's eyes widened in surprise. "You know him too?"

"She's his best friend." M'Gann swiftly intervened. The title she'd been given made Ski'Lira startle as she realized that Conner really was one of her best friends, and vice versa it seemed. She shook away that revelation for later examination.

It was the one identified as Karen who spoke next, "Do you go to school around here?"

"Homeschooled," Skylar answered easily, making a calculated move in adjusting her baseball cap to draw attention to its Metropolis Meteors logo, hoping they'd make some kind of logical leap and assume that's where she was from. Instead she received slight looks of distaste at her answer. "Problem?"

"No, no, of course not!" Wendy denied, putting her hands up and shaking her head. "It's just, you know, it's homeschool. There's, you know... social stigma? And you don't really look like a homeschooled kid?"

"You look like you could crush a watermelon with your bare hands." Karen's eyes were locked on Ski'Lira's exposed biceps with wonder.

"You play any sports?" Mal asked, sounding genuinely interested to hear her reply. "Basketball?"

"No."

Grasping her boyfriend by the arm, Karen loudly cleared her throat. "As fun as this is, we really should get back to our tables. Things are about to kick off soon and we've got a busy few hours ahead of us. If you two need any help, we'll be over there." She jerked her thumb towards the line of game booths.

Once the trio had left, M'Gann blew out a long breath of relief. "Well, that went... okay. I think?"

"Your friends are weird." Sitting down heavily on a metal folding chair, Ski'Lira settled in for the long haul. "Why does it matter if I'm homeschooled? Or that I don't play sports?"

"I think he was just trying to find some... common ground?" M'Gann suggested. "Especially after you mentioned Conner. Mal's a really nice guy, Karen and Wendy too if you get to know them."

She had absolutely no intention of 'getting to know' any of the teenagers. As far as they were concerned, this persona was here just for the day, and they'd never see or hear from her again.

With a good chunk of time left to spare, and all of their prep work done, she fished her phone out of her pocket. Lining up a shot of her unimpressed face with her 'Robin' name tag in full view, she snapped the pic and sent it off to a certain text thread.

She received a reply in seconds.

Dick: Identity theft is a crime. You have committed a crime

Sky: Arrest me, then

Dick: Don't tempt me. : P. This will not go unanswered.

And even though she knew it would be some time before he saw it, she took the time to text Conner with a warning for the future.

Sky: If your friends from school ever ask, I'm your friend Robin from Metropolis. Get the details from M'Gann

Making the screen go dark, she stowed the device away just as a megaphone crackled into life. "Listen up Bumblebees and helpers!" The speaker was a middle aged woman, her greying hair pulled into a severe bun and wearing a slightly oversized black jumpsuit over an eye-searingly yellow t-shirt. "Doors are opening up in five minutes!" Crackling harshly with static, the megaphone was blessedly turned off, a great relief to the Thanagarian's sensitive hearing.

"You ready for this?" Megan's bright and cheerful disposition only made Skylar frown.

"I have had near death experiences that will be less painful than this."

"... You know, I'm not even going to try to argue with you." About to offer a commiserating pat on the forearm, she remembered her gloves and abstained. "I know this is... pretty far outside your comfort zone, but you're doing it anyway. So thank you, again. I know this is going to be hard for you. But um... please try not to be too... mean?"

"For your information, I can be perfectly pleasant when I want to be." Skylar argued.

"... To total strangers?"

"Yes!"

"Sure. Okay, well, just remember to smile! This is for a good cause!"

Huffing, she readjusted her sunglasses and pointedly kept her face dead neutral. This was going to be a grueling afternoon, so she'd be better off getting comfortable now. Or, at least comfortable as she was capable of being, considering how tightly her wings were crushed to her back.

H

"You're doing great!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Megan was shooting her an encouraging double thumbs up. "Thanks." She deadpanned, but her sarcastic intent was missed.

That was where the exchange ended, as the next slew of customers stepped up to point out their intended purchases before her volunteer partner could offer any more platitudes.

A woman was up next, somewhere between mid to late twenties, a young boy no older than six clutching tightly to her hand with a wide-eyed disbelief at the sheer amount of sweets laid out in front of him. "We'll take two of the cupcakes, please." With a hand not trapped by the child's grip, she slid the exact change for her purchase towards Skylar.

"Here you go!" M'Gann handed over two of the confections. "I hope you like them!"

The duo were gone for scarcely a minute before the woman doubled back, making a beeline for the brunette teen manning the money. "Excuse me, miss? I'm sorry to bother you, but my son wanted me to tell you he likes your sweater. Purple's his favorite color."

Angling her head down at the young boy, Skylar allowed a soft smile to appear on her face. "Thanks. I like your shirt." And she wasn't even lying, she did like it, a slightly stylized and colorful version of Wonder Woman's logo she'd never seen before. "Enjoy the cupcake, kiddo. Try not to get too much chocolate on that super cool shirt, yeah?"

That earned her a giant beaming, gap-toothed grin before the kid started tugging his mom towards one of the game booths handing out stuffed animal prizes. All the while, he kept the cupcake in his grip held ever so carefully.

"... That was one of the cutest things I've ever seen."

At M'Gann's gushing, Skylar came far too close to letting out an audible snarl, but she managed to restrain herself. "Shut up."

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. But instead of keeping her silence, there was a customary mental click as a mind link was formed just between the two of them.

Well practiced in the art of multitasking while having a mental conversation (something the Team had been diligently practicing over the course of their rigorous chore regiment these past two days), neither missed a beat in their work.

"I didn't mean anything bad by it, I swear. I just didn't expect you to be so good with kids." M'Gann admitted.

"In our line of work, it's a requirement."

She was met with a wave of confusion, "What does that mean?"

Skylar took the moment to properly formulate her thoughts, all while counting out change for a twenty to a small group of preteens picking out cookies. "You have yet to experience some of the aspects of being a hero, but it's no fault of your own. Conner and Kaldur too. Robin, Wally, Roy, and I, we patrol daily, spend most of our time as heroes out on the streets rather than covert operations and flashy battles with supervillains. Most of the crimes we deal with? Domestic. Saving people from fires, stopping muggers and opportunistic murders, disaster relief, the list goes ever on. And having to interact with panicking and grieving children is an expectation, not a possibility. There's a reason why most of us have undergone extensive training in disaster response and de-escalation. It's just another set of skills that we had to learn in order to do our jobs properly."

"I... guess I never really thought about it." M'Gann's customer service smile faltered, but her mask of cheer was quickly repaired before any civilians took notice. "You don't really tell stories about the... everyday stuff you guys deal with."

"Because it's usually easier to talk about the big things, the weird things, the out of the ordinary. Most days the ordinary is the worst. Sometimes with children it's simple. Their dog got off the leash, they lost their parents in a crowd, asking if you can pretty please fly up and catch the balloon they let go. But other times, they go to you because they're too scared to talk to anyone else, that's when..." She trailed off, pushing down the memories of dozens of scared children brave enough to ask for help.

"It gets difficult."

"Yeah," a wry smile made its way onto her face. "But it's... strangely rewarding, you know? Knowing that above all things, they trust you to keep them safe."

"You're pretty good at that. Keeping people safe. I can attest to that personally."

"... If you bring up the bullet wound thing again, I swear I-"

The mental link snapped off, leaving behind only an echo of M'Gann's mischievous giggle, effectively diffusing the unexpectedly solemn mood.

Ski'Lira found herself pondering how strangely depressing the conversations with her kast had started turning lately. First it was the near lecture about self-sacrifice, now this? Today was supposed to be a relatively light-hearted romp in the realm of horror that is public school fundraisers.

Shifting back into the lull of smiling, handing out cookies and cupcakes, and exchanging money, there was little that was memorable about the next hour. A few exceptions included a teenage boy who tried to get change for a fifty dollar bill and kept insisting it wasn't suspicious he was carrying said fifty dollar bill around in his wallet, being yelled at by two different people for 'not catering to people with peanut allergies' (despite the presence of a brightly colored handmade sign declaring every baked good was nut-allergy friendly), and a woman with long, pink nails pointing to every available item individually and asking it if was gluten free. That last lady was actually physically pulled away from the table by the Bumblebee's cheer coach, she was holding up the proceedings so badly.

When the event began to wind down, their booth reaching a lull in business, Skylar tapped M'Gann on the shoulder to catch her attention. "I'm going to run to the bathroom, be right back."

In the three minutes she was gone, the situation had taken a sharp turn for the worse.

A group of unfamiliar teens, two beefy boys wearing matching black and white letter jackets and four girls in varying shades of pastel had gathered around the bakery booth. M'Gann's eyes were a little too wide, smile still in place, but Ski'Lira knew her well enough to identify distress when she saw it.

"Ugh, Orcas," a voice to her left bemoaned, quickly identified as Karen. She was staring down the group with a sneer on her lips, nose wrinkling. "They're from Hamilton High, our rival school... probably came here just to stir up trouble."

Not on her watch, they wouldn't.

Cracking her neck from side to side, she straightened her spine from her lackadaisical slouch and wordlessly stalked up behind the group, just as she heard an incredibly mean-spirited comment about M'Gann's hair.

"Excuse me."

One of the girls turned first, a follow up taunt for Megan dying on her lips as she looked up at the brunette. The blonde let out a slight squeak, frantically tapping on the nearest jack-wearing boys' arms to alert him.

She relished the singular moment where the already aggressive boy realized that she was only a couple of inches shorter than him, rather than the much larger margin he was likely used to when dealing with girls his age.

"Are you going to leave my friend alone or are we going to have a problem?" Skylar asked, keeping her tone even.

"Oh please, we're just here to have some fun." A much braver brunette wearing an ill-suited shade of red lipstick said in a patronizing tone, popping a hand on her hip. "This is a festival, isn't it?"

"It is." Tipping her head to the side, Skylar moved her attention to the girl. "Are you here to stand in for the clowns? Considering how thickly you've caked on makeup and how ill-suited that red is for your skin tone, I can think of no other reason for you to be here."

Thanks to the absurd amount of foundation plastered onto the girl's face, an embarrassed flush only marred the delicate skin of her neck and her ears. It was a little comical, to be honest.

"Hey!" The jock further away protested. "You can't talk about my girl that way!"

"I believe I just did. Would you like me to repeat it so that your single solitary brain cell can comprehend it?"

"There's no need to be such a bitch," another girl piped up. "Like Tiff said, we're just having fun."

"At the expense of my friend?" Skylar stopped suppressing the sharp edge to her tone. "That means we have a problem. I suggest you leave before I lose the last of my very tentative patience."

The taller of the two jocks frowned, "Was that a threat?" His hands curled into fists, shoulders squared as he intentionally made himself look bigger.

It was pathetic.

Unafraid, Ski'Lira took a menacing step forward. "Let me tell you how this is going to happen. We take this outside so we don't get into any trouble with the woefully underpaid staff here at the school. You and your friends keep hurling insults, you try to hit me first but end up hurting your own hand because your form is terrible. I punch you in the face, probably breaking your nose, and you go down. No witnesses other than your friends, but I doubt that you'll let them tell anyone that you got beat up by a girl. Your fragile male ego just can't handle that kind of blow, now can it? So, I suggest that you all apologize and remove yourselves from the premises of your own volition. I rather like these boots, and I'd rather not risk getting your blood all over them."

The immediate vicinity went dead quiet, only to be broken by an awestruck Karen who muttered, "Damn."

The only member of the interlopers who had yet to speak finally made her opinion known. Thankfully, she seemed to possess more brain cells than all of her friends combined. "Let's just go, Brent. It's not worth it."

"... Fine." 'Brent' practically spat. "But don't think I won't forget this. Next time we see each other, you won't be getting off so easy."

"Sure," he'd have a hell of a time finding an imaginary person who didn't even live in this state.

A singular apology was given to M'Gann, from the smart girl, one that sounded genuinely regretful.

Skylar tracked the group with her eyes as they departed, not moving from her spot until they had made it through the doors.

"That was pretty badass." Mal said from where he was now standing nearby, along with Wendy. "You sure you don't play sports?"

"I box a little." She shrugged, hoping that would be a sufficient excuse. It wasn't entirely wrong, just not entirely correct either.

"Sure..." Mal didn't look convinced by her excuse in the slightest, or at least didn't believe the quantifier of 'a little'.

Before things could turn too awkward, Megan ducked underneath the table so she could fling her arms around Skylar in a tight embrace. "Thanks, Robin."

"No problem," snaking an arm out from the hug, she patted the younger teen twice on the head before escaping fully. "I consider humiliating self-entitled morons a hobby."

"Really, thank you," Wendy added. "We might have gotten in trouble if any of us had done anything like that. You're like a knight in... not enrolled at this school armor..."

Karen's eyes narrowed, tapping her chin in thought. "Say... Would you happen to be interested in further volunteer opportunities? Say at our game next week against the Orcas?"

"No."

The pure vehemence in the negative answer sucked all the wind out of the girl's sails, but she shook off the disappointment with ease, flashing a smile to show no hard feelings were had. "Worth a shot!"

"We should probably get back to work," Wendy gently reminded the others, gesturing towards the nearly emptied gymnasium. "It's about time to start clean-up."

Her suggestion received several murmurs of affirmation before the group split up into a trio and a duo once more. After a few solid hours of near constant business, all that was left of their previously laden tables were a few sugar cookies, four vanilla cupcakes, and a singular lemon bar. These remnants they foisted off on the other Bumblebees for free, who were more than happy to accept the offerings.

Their stock disposed of, the tables were stripped of their decorative streamers and signage, all deposited into the massive garbage cans and recycling bins borrowed from the janitorial department.

"Is this it?" Ski'Lira did a last cursory check of their station, nothing seemed amiss apart from the emptied platters and tupperware remaining on the bared folding tables.

"I think so. I'll just check in with Coach Greene and then we can go." M'Gann abruptly flushed. "I mean, I assumed that I would just ride back with you and we could maybe hang out for a while, but if you don't want-"

"Megan, it's fine." Saying her friend's 'Earth' name felt a little strange rolling off her tongue, "Unless I get called in for an emergency, my evening's free."

"Oh, great!" Nodding to herself, she set off at a speedwalk towards her cheer coach, who was barking out directions through the megaphone.

Patiently waiting, Ski'Lira's eyes wandered from boredom, catching on Karen and Mal, the former of whom offered a small wave. She returned it half-heartedly and desperately hoped they wouldn't try to come over and talk to her.

She had firmly hit her 'normal human interaction' limit for the day.

H

"These really are good," Ski'Lira's wings wiggled a little in delight as she took another bit of her red velvet cupcake, careful not to drop any crumbs on M'Gann's bedspread.

In lieu of hanging out in the lounge, the two had retreated to M'Gann's bedroom with the box of cupcakes in tow, intent on sharing the tasty contents as a reward for all their work today. Ski'Lira had also taken the time to change into far more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a tank top, her wings finally able to stretch out freely. Her sunglasses were currently in her room, now her typical yellow cloth mask obscuring her features instead.

"I saw the recipe online. It had this really strange long-winded story about her grandmother, but the reviews were all positive so I gave it a shot. I'll definitely add these to my regular baking schedule, since you like them so much." Reaching for another cupcake, M'Gann began the tedious process of peeling the wrapper away from the cake. "So, what did you think? Of the bake sale, not the cupcakes, I know how you feel about them already."

"Just as taxing as I expected."

"I uh... figured. And what about Karen, Wendy, and Mal? What did you think of them?"

"They were alright, I suppose." Ski'Lira admitted, she hadn't gotten any unfavorable impressions from them. "Karen has a fierceness to her that I can appreciate."

"You don't even know the half of it. One time she lectured a bully for using a homophobic slur, he was so mortified he faked being sick and left school early." When she lapsed into a thoughtful pause, Ski'Lira leaned forward, intrigued at whatever thought was rattling around in the Martian's skull. "Did you...? Well, do you...?"

"M'Gann?" Prompting her to continue the question, Ski'Lira set aside her own cupcake for now to let the other know she had her full, undivided attention.

"Do you think I fit in? At the school?" Before she could ask for clarification, M'Gann rambled in a rush. "I just feel like I'm trying too hard, you know? But I have to try because I'm so different from all of them! And not just because I'm from Mars, they're all... normal teenagers. They don't spend their nights and weekends fighting supervillains or sneaking into foreign countries. They have sleepovers and gossip about who's dating who, and which teacher is the worst, and in the morning they sometimes take hours to put on their makeup instead of taking a second to shift their face to look exactly how they want it!"

Face buried in her hands, M'Gann slumped over.

Struck speechless by this outpouring of words, Ski'Lira couldn't help but sympathize. After all, experiencing social disconnect with Earthlings was a familiar feeling. Until now, she thought M'Gann had been handling the situation with adaptability and grace, but this seemed to have been stewing for a while.

"I don't suppose it will be any consolation that I think most Earth girls are boring?" She offered tentatively, earning an entirely expected whine in the negative. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't feel like you're doing a good enough job being... normal?"

"... Yeah."

Thinking back to M'Gann's near-panicked speech earlier, she mulled over the specific words and approached it from a tactical standpoint. There was literally nothing Ski'Lira could do that would make her feel more... human... while at school. In truth, she was probably the absolute worst choice to do so.

But there was something she could do.

"Stay here, I'll be back in fifteen minutes, tops." Without offering any explanation as to where she was going, Ski'Lira swept out of the room and set off at a sprint towards the Zeta Tubes.

Approximately thirteen minutes later, a distinctly windswept Thanagarian made her return to the Cave. In her brief absence, M'Gann's emotional outburst had tempered some, and she was texting someone (likely Conner). "Uh, hi? Where did you go?"

"I had to grab something from home." Lifting her hand, she shook the nondescript black case she was carrying. She plopped it down onto the bedspread, clambering after it to sit cross-legged across from M'Gann. Flipping open the latches, she revealed the contents within.

"Is this... makeup?" M'Gann was thoroughly confused. "Why do you have this?"

"Believe it or not, I do wear makeup on occasion." Ski'Lira explained patiently, knowing full well how jarring of a revelation this must be. Visually sifting through the organized compacts, tubes and bottles, she retrieved a dark grey eye shadow and black eyeliner. "These are neutral enough that you can use them with either your Martian skin or human skin tone. I'd offer to show you foundation too, but the skin tone you picked for Megan is paler than mine, so I don't have any that work for you. Not that you'd really need it, considering how flawless your skin is. Now, close your eyes and don't open them until I say. I'm going to make up one of your eyes so you can see what it should look like, then I'm going to teach you how to do the other."

"I... never thought you'd know how to do something like this." M'Gann admitted sheepishly, doing her best to keep as still as possible.

"I learned how from my mother. Thanagarians don't really do the whole 'makeup' thing." She answered, making sure to keep her strokes steady as she applied pigment to the delicate skin of M'Gann's eyelids. "It makes sense, considering..."

"That you rarely show your faces?"

"Exactly. But in my life, it's necessary to know how to cover up a prominent bruise to avoid suspicion from nosy humans who jump to the wrong conclusions about our home situations. Robin, Wally, and Artemis do the same, multiple members of the League too if need be, man and woman alike. It's just another part of being a hero. But proper concealment technique is purely for practicality, sometimes putting on war paint is important too."

Eyelids fluttering, M'Gann remembered to keep them closed mere seconds before disaster struck and she ruined all of Ski'Lira's careful work with liquid eyeliner. "War paint?"

"Not literal war paint, but Thanagarians do have that. We paint our skin, armor, and there's even specialized pigment we use to dye our feathers... I am getting horribly off track. It's a Terran saying, 'putting on your war paint'. I learned it from Wonder Woman when she taught me how to do a perfect wing." Ski'Lira remembered that day with great fondness, as the Amazon had also taught her how to properly use a meteor hammer. "There, you can open now."

Taking a compact mirror from the box, she handed it to M'Gann so she could inspect her handiwork. "Wow..." M'Gann breathed.

"Now comes the hard part, your turn." With those words, the redhead's look of wonder faded into apprehension.

After a great deal of verbal coaching and makeup wipes, M'Gann had two fully made up eyes, though one boasted a much superior and sharper wing. Perfection took practice and time, it wasn't something M'Gann would get the hang of in an hour.

"There. When you do both eyes yourself it'll look just fine." Ski'Lira assured, before doubt could begin to seep in. "You can keep these two by the way, I have extras anyway." That was a blatant lie, but they were easy to find products from a supermarket makeup aisle, thus replaceable. "Maybe someday we can find some gold eyeliner, that would look gorgeous with your green skin."

Said verdant skin flushed a darker shade at the praise. "Thank you for this, Hawkgirl. I really appreciate it. How did you know this was what I needed?"

She very well could have provided a vague excuse, like 'instinct' or 'trade secret', but Ski'Lira saw no harm in a little truth telling. "A long time ago, I experienced a similar situation. I felt disconnected from the human world and tried to convince my parents to expose me to more of it. But that's not what I really wanted, I was just homesick for Thanagar. Hal Jordan knocked some sense into me on that one... It's not about changing all of who you are for the sake of the people around you, sometimes it's about changing one small thing so that you can feel more comfortable living in the world you're stuck in."

"So your solution was to teach me how to put on war paint?"

"I figured it was worth a shot. If that didn't work, I was going to call Artemis and have her take over. You know, considering she actually attends public school and can relate to your issues more than I can. For the record, I am definitely going to ask her to talk to you anyway to see if she has any more ideas to help you."

"I won't say no to that." M'Gann flopped back in the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "And hey, this was a win for you today too!"

"How so?"

"Well, now you've finally been in a public school for a reason other than fighting a super-powered android that nearly killed us."

"... This was worse."

"... Didn't AMAZO break your ribs?"

"For the record, it was bruised ribs and that happened before when the truck I was standing on flipped over." Ski'Lira was considering for a moment. "Okay, technically fighting AMAZO may or may not have upgraded bruised to cracked. My point still stands, this was worse. At least with the android I got to fight something."

"You did give that guy a verbal thrashing. I thought he was going to punch you right then and there!"

"And how I wished he had tried. It would have been hilarious."