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"O-oh no..." She muttered nervously to herself. As she stood up, sending her fork clattering to the floor, drawing the attention of many strangers. She looked around frantically, scanning her surroundings for a secluded area. She needed to put a stop to this. She had to do it alone. She was supposed to have learned this by now.

After making a beeline to the bathroom, she nearly skidded across the floor and slammed into one of the stalls. She shut its flimsy metal door without a second thought and clutched her purse to her chest. She knew her duty, yet she couldn't shake the creeping thoughts of doubt. They curled around her, freezing her in place as she considered possibility after possibility of failure, and the resulting lives lost due to her ineptitude. Would she somehow save this crummy establishment from certain doom, or would she find herself helpless and defeated before the enemy? How was she supposed to fight when she'd never seen a battle before?

--- Earlier

It was a breezy summer day, and Sirsce recently finished her horrific chore of cleaning out the fridge. Despite wearing gloves, just the sight of the gelatinous mystery fluid and the amalgamation of mold and leftovers made her skin crawl. It was a grueling task, but she finally surmounted it, and her reward was all but worthwhile: a $20 dollar gift card to a restaurant she'd never heard of. What was she supposed to do, just barge in there with her scratched up gift card and order the most expensive thing on the menu? Would twenty dollars be enough, or would that just buy some horribly overpriced appetizer? Then again, the place could serve the most delicious meals she'd ever had... Yeah, she'll go with that.

After shoving the flimsy card into the bottomless depths of her favorite purse, Sirsce slung the bag over her shoulder and nearly bounded out of the kitchen. Though she'd never heard of this Le Petit Poisson before, she was excited to have an excuse to escape her stuffy house. With a quick Google search, she found the location of this decidedly pretentious restaurant three blocks from her home. Considering it was approaching noon, she had little time to depart if she wanted to make it there before the lunch crowd arrived. The thought of fresh seafood and a glass of iced tea spurred her on as she zipped up her boots and rushed out of the house.

She began her walk to the restaurant in a decidedly sunny mood, flashing a smile to passersby as she strolled down the sidewalk. Staying on track soon became a chore once she noticed a florist selling her favorite flowers, and a stray cat lying atop a trash can, and the old man feeding the birds on the bench, and... before she knew it, an hour and a half had passed, yet she still wasn't at her destination. Maybe she should've left earlier... Then again, if she did, she'd have needed to finish the fridge earlier, and that would've meant waking up earlier, and if she did that then she couldn't have watched her favorite show last night, and she would've been depressed and slept in anyway, so... Yeah, she'll deal with the lunch crowd.

Sirsce stopped in front of a grey-blue building with brown shutters flanking square windows. A few wooden steps led to the building's porch, which was adorned with small seated tables and flanked by a carved wooden banister. The building bore a slightly faded sign, reading Le Petit Poisson, which she recognized from the logo on her gift card. The aroma emanating from the building drew her in, as she smelled subtle herbs mingled with fish. Despite the small scale of the restaurant, its quaint feel appealed to her sense of style, and she finally ascended the steps. With little hesitation, she pushed open the stained wooden door.

---

"Oh sweet crabcakes, this can't be happening..." She muttered, frantic. She couldn't believe it. Everything seemed perfectly normal when she stepped into the restaurant. She was seated by a nice young lady, she spent a half hour pouring over the menu and deliberating on which delectable dish she'd order, and she was served her salmon without delay, but now this?! Some blonde kid in decidedly ugly purple and black attire just busts in out of nowhere and starts wrecking the place with a little girl's ribbon toy? This was too much.

After a few deep breaths and self-reassuring thoughts, she finally talked herself into taking a stand. "I can do this... I can show that evil man not to mess with this fine establishment! I just know he had something to do with my salmon being too salty!" With a determined huff, she quietly transformed within the cramped confines of the stall and hurriedly burst out of the bathroom. She ran toward the kitchen and elbowed her way through the swinging metal doors and stood defiantly before the man in the gaudy black outfit. "Drop those lobsters and prepare to get steamed, you..." Shoot. I need an insult! She paused, fumbling for words. "You..." Come on Sirsce, think! "You ribbon dancer!"

Leda was stood triumphantly, proud of her bold words and strong stance. She knew he could only stare in awe at her graceful repose and intimidating stare. Only one option remained for this kitchen intruder, and she fully expected him to turn tail and run. She wanted to hear the clatter of pots and pans as he tripped on the slick concrete floor. She wanted to hear the thud of flesh against metal as he slammed his body against the outside door. And most of all, she wanted to hear him yelp in terror while he fled down the street.

Reality set in when she felt a rather disgruntled crustacean collide with her head, and latch onto her hair with total abandon. She squealed and ducked, hoping to shake the lobster from her hair, yet found it only held tighter. Besieged by sea life and faced with a mortal enemy, Leda felt her confidence slipping away. Even as the lobster crawled atop her head and poked at her scalp, she could do nothing but whimper in near defeat. It looks as though her superhero career would end with her being a superzero.

I can't let this zoot suit bimbo and his pet lobster be the end of me! I'm supposed to be powerful, and... pretty, and stuff! With great effort, she drew herself to her feet. She stared down her opponent with renewed resolve. It was time to put an end to him and his seafood shenanigans. No longer would he desecrate this kitchen with his evil presence!

She mustered up the strength to seize the lobster from her head, and hurled it toward the ground. It bounced across the floor with little injury, as if mocking her. "Quit messing with me!" She screamed at the scuttling crustacean, readying her attack. She felt the steam swirl about her body, arching off the tips of her fingers and landing square atop the back of the lobster. Soon its shell turned bright red, and it ceased its frantic scuttling across the kitchen floor. With one foe neutralized, she had just one more to go.

She turned to face the blonde intruder, though she found quite a bit of her energy was sapped in her last attack. She wasn't sure she could muster up the strength to attack the man with her power. However, rather than admit defeat, she seized the nearest fish, lying open and prepared on a cutting board, and lobbed it toward the kitchen intruder. "I hope you get guts in your hair, pretty boy!" She yelled, then quickly retreated behind the stainless steel counters in case of return fire.

Leda paused, disconcerted. "... What?" She managed. Why was he even talking about a lobster? Why was he calling the lobster a him? Could he simply tell by looking at it? Did he have some sort of shellfish sense? Almost mechanically, she turned to look at the notably bright red lobster on the floor. It no longer moved sporadically or flexed those menacing claws. No, now the entirety of its color had changed and it ceased all movement.

Finally, it dawned on her. "Oh no..." She gasped, covering her mouth. She killed an innocent lobster in her blind and animalistic fight for her life.

She didn't have time to think about what she'd done. She didn't have time to mourn the death of the innocent lobster. She didn't have time to rethink the situation and use hindsight to amend her decisions. No, now an incredibly aggravated Negaverse agent crossed the room with every intent to... whip her to death? With a child's toy? Was he serious?

Despite his ridiculously outdated uniform and poor weapon of choice, Leda still regarded him as a strong and intimidating foe. In fact, she almost took him up on his advice to turn tail and run. However, she had already discovered his proverbial kryptonite: fish. She left the cover of the stainless steel counter and wielded her new knowledge offensively. With fresh courage that she never knew she had, she swept a handful of shelled shrimp off the countertops and lobbed them at her attacker. A few pelted his face and others bounced off harmlessly, but even her magnificent piscatorial onslaught did not dissuade her foe.

She shrieked in terror when he brought down his ribbon upon her, and the pain was more imaginary than anything. After carefully opening her eyes, she looked down to see the ribbon lying lazily on her arm. How anticlimactic. She stared blankly at her opponent for a moment before rocketing off to the opposite side of the room and searching for more edible ammunition.

To her delight, she located a drained colander full of calamari. "Take this, you poorly-dressed terrorist!" She yelled, throwing the entire colander in his direction. Her assault was overzealous, causing most of the calamari to land on herself rather than her enemy. She squirmed in disgust; there was nothing worse for a fashionista than wearing her dinner. "Ugh, gross!" Hastily she swatted at her hair and uniform in a futile attempt to rid herself of the slimy squid. "This is your fault!"

She wasn't sure how it was his fault, but it was.

Leda hesitated to respond. The man was right. She made a fool out of herself, and she didn't even realize it until now. She stood, covered head to toe in sea creatures, in the middle of a now-defunct kitchen. Not only that, but she had a hand in reducing it to a wreck, and probably wasting a lot of their money in the process.

Perhaps she really was one of the terrorists.

No, he was the terrorist here. This wouldn't have happened if he wasn't making a fuss about getting served. She just wanted to do right by the restaurant owners and take care of this agent with a tacky sense of fashion. Did it work out like she had envisioned it? No.

However, before he left, she knew she had to do something. Even if the whole fight was a complete failure on her part, she wanted to come off as intimidating. Someone he shouldn't mess with. Someone with a superior sense of style and a superior sense of... wit. "Oh yeah?!" She began, feeling good about herself. "Well! You better enjoy that lobster, mister zoot suit!" She huffed afterward and crossed her arms over her chest to punctuate her statement.

Wait... Maybe that didn't come out as planned. Besides, the man left mid-sentence.

What Leda didn't know was if the man would chase her down after he was done with his accidental meal. She didn't want to find out. Besides, he was right; she'd better wash the calamari out of her hair and get out of here. With a dejected sigh, she turned tail and ran out the back doors.

Today, she'd learned that she'd rather avoid fighting. She's no good at it. She couldn't even fight off a man with a ribbon dancer and a terrible sense of fashion. It was time to escape, not look back, and wallow in a bowl of ice cream.