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Every great super hero needed a great theme song. When she wasn't tracking Fallon, Vanessa was ducking behind garbage cans and skirting into back-alleys to avoid confrontation, and busily trying on different tunes for size.

She'd danced through the signature melody of Super Man as it played in her head, had done the robot through a mental rendition of Mission Impossible, and even tip-toed and snapped her fingers through an enthusiastically solo (and very silent!) production of the Pink Panther. And then, when she thought she'd caught Fallon looking her way, she promptly stole some poor guy's newspaper in order to hide her face. He'd been pretty angry with her, but she hadn't had the time to placate him, and had simply returned his property with a sincere; "My bad."

Her quest for a suitable theme song had been wildly unsuccessful until about 7:30, when Vanessa had been lurking outside a grocery store, and spied Fallon climbing into a taxi. The sun was just beginning to set, and the sunglasses she wore (they were John Jr's) obliterated much of the light. They were darker than her own pair had been, and Vanessa vaguely regretted breaking them.

But at least now she knew what her theme song should be.

Vanessa had left her skateboard at home today and, with the exception of the sunglasses on her nose, was not, in fact, dressed up like Super Van. Or Vanessa, for that matter. In order to track Fallon successfully she'd suspected it would be necessary to go undercover, and had 'borrowed' one of her father's suits from his closet. It was much too big for her, and she'd had to roll the cuffs of both the jacket and the pants up over and over and over again until they were at a suitable length. Underneath the shirt and jacket she still wore Super Van's spandex leotard, and Vanessa felt like her disguise was very clever. She was proud of herself.

Without her precious skateboard it was much harder to follow Fallon on foot when the other girl was riding in a cab, but she'd managed- and ran all the way from the grocery store to the hotel; all the while, bopping along to the infamous words of Corey Hart under her breath.

"I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can, blah, blah, blah- I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I caaaan."

There was a stitch in her side as she motored around the corner of the imposing building and, breathing heavily, Vanessa bent double to ease the pain. She wondered if this was where Fallon really lived, and was not looking forward to the walk home, when something (or was it somebody?) connected with her side. Vanessa let out a little squeak of surprise and was forced backwards a couple of paces, but she did not fall.

Vanessa was still trying to get her breathing under control when a soft body made contact with her own, and she let out an 'oomph' of discomfort as she landed on her back. The force of it knocked the wind out of her, and Vanessa wheezed painfully where she lay; momentarily sandwiched between Fallon and the hard road of the alley.

She knew when Fallon recognized her. It flashed across her face, and filled Vanessa with a sense of foreboding. She cringed and braced herself for what she was sure would be a scolding of epic proportions. The other girl had threatened to call the cops on her last time, and Vanessa half expected some sort of SWAT team to swoop out of the heavens and cart her away to jail.

But the reprimand never came. Instead, Fallon was pulling on her jacket, whispering at her. Her own breathing returned to normal, and it dawned on Vanessa that the other girl was frightened of something. Her terror inspired Vanessa's own. Goosebumps popped out on her arms. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She could not feel the youma like Fallon did, but she thought she could hear something. Adrenaline roared through her veins like wildfire, coupled with protective instinct, and Vanessa was high on the sensation of it all.

She resisted Fallon's frantic tugs on her wrist, and stubbornly refused to oblige her.

"You go," Vanessa, who was jittery with nerves, but excited, released the buttons on the front of her suit with the hand that Fallon was not pulling on and reached inside. There was the sound of something tearing and, biting her lip, Super Van retrieved the crowbar she'd sewn (for fear of it falling out of the pocket) there. It had been crushed between their bodies when they fell, and Vanessa's ribs ached in protest as she straightened up. "I'm not afraid."

This was a lie, as Vanessa was very frightened. But, she would not flee from it. She was consumed by an overwhelming desire to conquer. The fingers that coiled around the cool metal of her weapon twitched tellingly, but her feet were steady.

At the back of the alley something stirred.

This seemed to be a running theme with them. Fallon growled at her to listen and pulled on her sleeves, and Vanessa scowled when it ripped and the other girl stumbled. She reached out to Fallon reflexively, intending to catch her before she could fall, and then stopped promptly as the other girl continued to yell. Vanessa was the brick wall and Fallon was the hammer, but Vanessa would not crumble and Fallon would not relent. They could probably do this forever.

Vanessa didn't really want to. Her temper flared to life, fed by her trepidation about the thing that lurked in the alley, and she pushed back against the other girl's grip on her shoulders. There was nothing to say when she got angry like this, and she was so exhausted of Fallon's lectures. She glowered through John Jr's sunglasses at the younger girl, gripped the crowbar in both her hands, and sneered in outrage when Fallon wound her hand up into a punch. Vanessa widened her stance, lips pursed obstinately, and prepared herself for a dodge before she spotted the eyes that glittered threatening in the background.

Her heart stalled to a stop and then, as if struck by lightning, burst into a newfound life with zeal. The thing, whatever it was, was small, but so close. Way too close.

"Get out of the way," Super Van hissed. Her voice was loaded with emergency, and she all but tore herself out of the other girl's hands, maneuvering so that she stood between Fallon and the youma. The jacket inhibited her movements. She shirked it off swiftly, tossing it to the side, and stood before the youma with a dark expression on her face. She wielded the crowbar like a baseball bat, and paused at the site of its injured leg.

"Its hurt," she said, more to herself than to anyone else.

Super Van had never seen a youma before. She shielded Fallon's body with her own as a precaution, but was still not sure what to expect. It didn't look anything like the strange man she'd encountered in the mall.

Fallon would not let go, and Vanessa was about ready to tear her hair out with frustration. If Fallon was John Jr, Vanessa would have left in a heartbeat, if only because she knew it would be the only way to get him out of there safely-

Oh, for <********> sake.

"Alright, alright," Vanessa relented, golden eyes glued warily to the wobbling form of the youma, and irritably shook her arm out of the other girl's hands, "I'll go."

The point of this little escapade was to stalk Fallon because Fallon often got into trouble. She needed to be rescued, and that was, for all intents and purposes, Vanessa's primary objective.

For whatever reason, Fallon refused to flee without her, and Vanessa demonstrated an astonishing amount of foresight when she realized that she was endangering the other girl's life by sticking around. Besides, the youma looked more like a distressed animal than a bad guy. If it proved harmless, and Fallon seemed to think it definitely wouldn't, Vanessa would have liked to take it home and helped it to heal sooner than beat it senseless just for showing up.

Even if it was a creepy, strange-looking little s**t.

It looked like it wanted her to pet it and Vanessa's lip curled in distaste. Stupid she may have been, but she knew better than to touch it- It wasn't like she'd stroke a shark because it hadn't attacked her first.

With her arms out, crowbar held up, Super Van slowly started the retreat and backed up into the other girl.

Well, that was just nasty. Super Van's disgust-o-meter rose a couple of degrees, mounting synonymously with terror, and the young woman was cemented to the ground for a whole half second before responding. The fat, little hamster that powered her brain-wheel was positively spastic.

The youma bared its teeth and Vanessa, who had been waiting ever since the episode in the mall for another opportunity like this one, gritted hers. She was stubbornly determined to be brave and, brandishing her crowbar like a club, swung at the sickly creature's head with all of her might.

It was a moment or two before she realized that Fallon had fled and, while she felt a little abandoned, Vanessa was undeniably relieved. The other girl would have just gotten in the way, and now Super Van didn't have to worry about protecting her too.

The only thing she had to focus on was destroying the enemy.

It couldn't get to either of them if she killed it first.

The youma resembled an overgrown fly with attitude as it buzzed and spit. Except Vanessa figured it was more like a pissed off bumble bee with all of those teeth. She wished it was smaller, so that she could crush it under the rubber sole of her sneakers.

It dove for her chest and Vanessa, who was very protective of this particular part of her anatomy, shrieked with indignant rage and darted out of the way. Those were her boobs, thank you very much, and she wanted to keep them.

"Pervert," she growled at the youma, golden eyes flashing with animosity. The monster swivelled in the air, leaking fluids that reeked of something Vanessa couldn't name. Nose twitching with the stink of it, Super Van resisted the urge to plug her nose and swung at one of the youma's quivering wings with her crowbar.

It was a successful strike. The youma's wing crumpled a little, and the creature was forced to hover on its side. It had not fallen yet, but its good wing had to pick up the slack of the injured one. It took a lot more energy for the creature to stay in the air. Super Van smirked with satisfaction at her handiwork, and lifted her crowbar to strike again. Adrenaline rushed like fire through her veins.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind her made Vanessa pause. She turned to see who had come to join them, and her face exploded into a grin at the site of Fallon and her trashcan lid.

"Welcome to the party!"

The youma shook with vengeful rage, mourning the health of his wing, and darted for Vanessa's head. Its jaws were wide open, four sets of pearly white teeth glistening in the light of the dying sun like Edward Cullen's skin- only there was nothing romantic about bad breath. Super Van was not paying attention, distracted as she was by Fallon's decision to rumba.

Several things happened at once- happened too fast for Vanessa to register what was going on. In the end she knew three things;

1. Fallon needed to work on her aim.
2. The lids of trashcans did not make good windows.
3. This youma seriously needed his bad-guy license revoked.

Super Van processed everything as fast she could, and reacted instinctively. Golden eyes glittered with white-hot fury through her sunglasses as the youma attacked Fallon. It consumed her. Vanessa had no choice in the matter, and the temper that had not broken the other day, when Fallon had hit her in the face with her purse, finally snapped.

Fallon could not defend herself. This much was clear. The only reason she'd returned was to help her.

Vanessa felt responsible. Vanessa would have helped her anyways.

It wasn't the smartest move by any means, but it was all she could think of to do- shouting in rage, swearing at the ugly, over-sized bug, Super Van launched herself at the beast with her arms outstretched. The crowbar gleamed menacingly in her hands, and Vanessa used all of her weight to football tackle the disgusting creature off of Fallon's back.

Together girl and youma tumbled. They grappled with each other, Vanessa crying out in pain when one of the needles on its back tore through cloth and sliced through the flesh of her thigh. There was blood, but not a lot. Major arteries had been avoided.

"Get the ******** off of me," she growled feverishly, kicking with both her good leg and her injured one, as the youma righted itself and started to crawl its way up her body. Vanessa attempted to stab it in the face with her crowbar.

Nearby, at the end of the alley, traffic whirred by on a busy road.