"But first I need your help."

Guy shuffled through the clothes in Mariah's wardrobe. "I need an outfit, preferably with sparkles and glitter-something really gay." He turned to wink at Mariah.

"Idiot! You are gay!"

"I know, but I want something to make a statement!" He looked down at his conservative dark trousers and white shirt, then pulled out some plain black leggings. Guy considered them for a second then shook his head.

"Well, what would you prefer? Yellow spandex?"

Guy's eyes brightened. "Ideal! Have you got some?"

Mariah opened a drawer and lifted out a pair of gym shorts. The spandex was sparkly and bright yellow. Guy smiled broadly and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Don't ask!" said Mariah.

She hunted around and drew out a black teeshirt with a glow-in-the dark Batman symbol on it, and a sleeveless top made of scarlet lycra.

"Your choice," Mariah offered, with a straight face.

"Decisions, decisions," muttered Guy, taking all three garments and shooing Mariah out of the room.

In the end, he decided on the yellow shorts over the black leggings, with the Batman teeshirt on top.

Mariah was torn between dismay and laughter. "You'll be mugged before you take two steps down the street, if you wear that!" she warned.

In answer, Guy pulled his grey jacket on over the top, hiding both the shorts and the Batman logo. The effect was dramatic-now he just looked like an ordinary man with rather thin legs.

"Better?"

Mariah nodded. "That'll do."

Guy changed quickly back into his own clothes and bundled Mariah's garments under one arm.

"Wish me luck!"

~~~

John had been keeping the Club under surveillance for a week or so now, waiting for just this opportunity. Usually the man was accompanied by a friend or two but this time he was on his own.

Silently, John slipped out of the car and followed on foot. He was cautious, never losing sight of his target but never getting too close either.

They had travelled barely a block before a gang of three men stepped out of an alley and confronted Guy. John held back, hiding in the shadows, his pulse beating faster as he waited for what would happen.

"Hand over your phone and wallet," demanded one of the men, stretching out a hand.

"Or what?" asked Guy, hands on his hips.

The man gave a disbelieving laugh. "Or we'll beat you to a pulp, faggot!" He gave Guy a hard push in the chest and Guy staggered back several steps.

John waited, poised on his toes, wondering if he would have to step in after all.

The three men rushed at Guy. John couldn't see exactly what Guy did but suddenly all three men appeared to slip and fall heavily. Two crashed into each other, knocking their heads together painfully, while the third landed flat on his back and cracked his head on the pavement. He didn't move.

Gripping his weapon with one hand and hauling his badge out with the other, John strode forward to the group of men. "FBI! Hands where I can see them, right now!"

Guy raised his hands immediately but the other two who were still conscious simply blinked up at John with dazed eyes. The third man was out cold. John would have bet a week's wages they all three had concussion.

John pointed his gun at Guy. "Keep them up, Mister."

"Hullo, Masters," said Guy cheerfully. "You know, I think we're on the same side here. I admire your work. Guess you won't be extending me any professional courtesy."

John didn't answer, but spoke into his phone, calling for back up and an ambulance-careful to keep his gun trained on Guy.

"How did you do that?" he asked, unable to help himself.

Guy shrugged, and smiled. "They slipped."

Very carefully, John eased behind Guy and cuffed his wrists together. Only then did he stop to look at the ground, searching for an oil slick or something which would cause the men to fall like that. A large patch of oil met his probing eyes. He was almost certain it hadn't been there minutes before, when Guy walked over that same stretch of ground.

"How did you do that?" he asked again, despite himself.

"Practice," said Guy, with another smile. Then he was serious for a moment, meeting John's irritated gaze. "I didn't pluck it out of thin air-I just moved it from one place to another, from inside that engine, out onto the pavement."

"So you admit you have special... powers?" John was incredulous.

"Superpowers, yes. Gods. Angels. Different cultures call us by different names. Now all of a sudden it's 'superhero'."

Half fearful, half jubilant, John bundled Guy into the police car which had just pulled up at the same time as the ambulance. All three muggers were loaded into the ambulance and driven off to hospital along with a police guard.

~~~

"Careful," said John as he entered the police station, pushing Guy ahead of him. "Keep your eyes on this one. He's dangerous."

The other officers looked doubtfully at Guy's slender figure. At that moment, Alison hurried into the room and went straight over to John. "What's the story?" she asked. "Why did you call me in?"

"I've got one," answered John, trying to keep a lid on his excitement. Alison frowned slightly and he realised she didn't understand. "Remember the people I was talking to you about? The ones with special powers? I've got one-this man, Guy Travers. I saw him bring down three men by moving a patch of oil out of a car onto the pavement under their feet."

Alison frowned more heavily.

"It's true," said John. "He can move objects with his mind. And he's the one I saw disappear into thin air in that alley. He calls himself a 'Superhero'."

Instead of excited approval, John saw anger flood into Alison's face. She looked livid.

"That's not funny, John! This has gone beyond a joke!"

He looked round. Two officers were openly chuckling while the rest were fighting to keep smiles off their faces. An icy cold feeling trickled down John's back.

He looked over at Guy and saw that his coat was gaping open, revealing sparkly yellow shorts over black tights, but even worse, he was wearing a teeshirt with a batman logo.

"Actually that's not quite correct, Agent Masters," Guy was saying earnestly. "Batman was never technically a Superhero, because he didn't have Super Powers. Just access to the Batcave and a lot of cool technology."

"But... I saw..."

"It was a neat trick, wasn't it? I saw that patch of oil on the pavement and I backed up just enough to make the muggers step right in it. Worked a treat!"

John just had enough sense left to keep his mouth shut. His whole case had been well and truly sabotaged.

Guy burbled on happily. "I hope those guys aren't hurt too badly, but honestly, I don't have much sympathy. They would have creamed me if they could have."

Guy was still talking as John removed the handcuffs with gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry officers, but I'm afraid I left the Batmobile in the Batcave. Can someone give me a ride home after we're finished here?"

~~~

(This story ends here - the following chapter is my first short and sweet entry for the challenge, while I was waiting for my brain to kick in with a proper story! )