Switcheroo
Issue 10

By Melanie E.

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This is mostly just a good faith gesture letting people know I really AM still writing. I had originally intended this to be a "Special Double Length Tenth Issue Spectacular" but it's taking me too long to write, so here's a normal length episode instead. We'll save the double-length issue for 25 or so. Sound good?

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Chapter 17
Beat 'Em Up

Why can't real-life superheroing be like the comic books? You know, where the hero always recovers almost instantly from any injury and comes back to win the day?

The truth is, getting the wind knocked out of you by being flung into a concrete wall HURTS, and there's no getting up quickly from something like that no matter how good your healing abilities are.

After sliding down the wall I had just enough energy to roll over on my back and groan, which wasn't a big help in the current situation.

Of course I knew who Collision Course was. While she was mostly a B-list villainess, doing odd jobs for a few of the higher-ups in just about any criminal organization that could afford her rates, she had gained some reknown about nine months ago when she killed the Switcheroo before my sister. It was more bad luck on Switcheroo's part than CC's skill, though -- there was no way either could have predicted the CO2 tank would explode on impact when she had smacked the last Switcheroo with it, but it had been enough to end things for her in a rather swift and chilly way. The boulder that was dropped on her after probably didn't help either.

After joining the ranks of the MDSPF myself I had found out that she'd had a long-running vendetta with my forerunner due to being another applicant for the powers. She had been deemed a bad choice due to mental instability, and in a rage had gone to "the other side," so to speak. What they gave her was a banned Super Soldier syrum that they were experimenting with. It made her super strong, and able to withstand just about anything short of a direct hit from a .30 cal, but at the expense of most of her sanity.

She didn't seem to miss it all that much.

The rubble strewn around what had been a Dillard's only a few minutes ago slowed Collision Course down just enough that I managed to catch my breath in time to roll out of the way of the support beam she brought down, moments before it took my head off.

"I've killed you before, I can do it again, bitch!"

I mouthed a word of apology to Jami and the store as I transformed, ripping the first -- and hopefully last -- skirt I had ever been convinced to try on to shreds in the process. It seemed to me that my bear form would be the toughest of the bunch, and I was happy to see Collision Course's expression change from one of triumph to one of rage, and finally surprise as with a swipe of one massive paw I sent her flying across the room.

I roared as I charged across the rubble after her, my large footpads and paws easily finding purchase on the debris. I wasn't about to give her a chance to get up, either, and as soon as I reached her I swiped my claws down her exposed back.

I'd like to say I didn't enjoy her scream, but that would be a lie.

Before I could attack her again, she rolled over, throwing a foot into my stomach on the way. As a bear I had a lot better resistance to her strike, but it still hurt like hell, and sent me reeling backward from her. She didn't even bother to check her back as she stood up and leapt at me, clutching her fists together and bringing them down as one.

I reacted on impulse, ducking and morphing at the same time and came back clamping my wolf's teeth hard on her ankle. Just like her back, I knew that it would heal almost as soon as I let go, but I had to do something to keep her attention and draw her away from the store and any more destruction.

Another kick, and I was sailing through the air out the doors, morphing into my lioness on the way and scrambling to my paws as soon as I hit the ground. I could hear her thundering toward me, pushing shelves and displays aside like they were nothing. I knew she would follow me, and not knowing anywhere close that would get her safely away from people I decided the parking lot would be the best I could do.

I let out a growl as I leapt from car to car, drawing her as much into the open as I could. She complied with my wishes, knocking the cars out of the way in her rush to get to me.

That was when I saw it. The lone figure, perched atop the building with a gun almost as large as he was in his hands.

One of the nice things about being in animal form -- you always had the best poker face possible.

I heard the whistle, and watched her eyes widen in surprise before rolling up into her head as Collision Course lived up to her name, slamming into the pavement with a sickening thud. Sticking out of her back were three massive tranq darts, leaving me wondering just how many chemicals it must have taken to put her down like that.

I padded over to her fallen body and sniffed her carefully. Her fingers twitched briefly, raising my hackles, but then her breathing shifted, and I knew she was out cold.

"Lou? Lo-Switch! There you are!"

Jami came toward me, jogging slowly and nursing her left arm. I felt a twinge of guilt inside that I hadn't managed to keep her from getting hurt, but I knew there hadn't been much I could do. She slowed down as she came closer though, her eyes narrowing when she saw the tranq darts.

"Alright, Nate, come on out!"

"No need to yell," a mechanical-sounding voice said as I saw the figure from the roof approaching. Nate, or Armory, looked a little crazy walking around in a tee shirt and jeans with his suit's helmet and wrist computer. As he walked toward us, he typed away at the console on his arm and both disappeared with a strange metallic flash. "The cops should be here soon, and we should get going before a crowd gathers."

I looked around us and saw that sure enough, all the mundanes who had fled when Collision Course had first called me out in the store were now flocking to the scene, cameras and cell phones at the ready.

"Alright," Jami said with a defeated sigh. "Let's get inside so Switch can change and put on some clothes. I guess my shopping mood has been shot to shit anyhow."

'Aww, jeez, and I was just getting into it too,' I thought to myself sarcastically, though all that came out was a feline "Growmf."

"Don't you start with me, girl."

"Gramflwrl."

"Just deal with it."

I continued cursing her in cat the rest of the way to the building, but she just ignored me as she started searching through the rubble for our shopping bags.

"Aha!" She called triumphantly as she pulled them out of the remains of a rack of shoes. "Get your tail over here and change so we can go."

I hid behind the fallen stands as best I could while I transformed, the cold air from the surprisingly still working A/C in the building leaving me covered in goosebumps. Digging through the bags, I cursed in english this time as I realized that there was no way in hell I was getting out of here looking the least bit like a guy.

I reluctantly slid the panties up my legs before pulling on a pair of jeans that were far lower rise than I could have ever imagined myself wearing. Looking down at myself, then at the bags, I realized a problem.

"Jami, there aren't any shirts in here."

No answer.

"Jami?" I called again, standing up to look for her only to find myself eye to eye with Nate. Or, in his case, wide eyes to breasts.

Time stood still as I stared, frozen in shock, at the man who had helped me defeat Collision Course now ogling my much-maligned boobs.

"Hey Lou I was looking for any sales assistants left to see if I could buy a..." Jami slid to a half when she saw us, before bursting out in a hysterical laugh.

Nate spun around, blood rushing to his face, as I felt my own skin starting to burn. I wrapped my arms around my chest and slid back down behind my temporary wall, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me.

"Ahem."

I looked up to find an arm hanging over the wall, holding a tee shirt. "Put this on."

I snatched the shirt from the hand above me and slid it on as quickly as I could, unable to cover myself fast enough.

Standing up again, this time fully clothed, I saw Jami grinning like a fool next to a now-shirtless Nate, who seemed to have developed a sudden extreme interest in a pile of bricks near his feet.

At least now I knew where the shirt had come from.

"Can we go now?" I asked, picking up the bag of clothes next to me and looking longingly toward the door.

"We'll need a ride. Collision Course kinda smashed my car up trying to get to you."

"Sorry."

Jami shrugged. "It happens. Superhero insurance covers it."

Nate coughed. "My truck's around the corner."

"Lead the way then."

We managed to lose ourselves in the crowd outside the store, nobody realizing we were partially involved in all the commotion. It had always struck me as strange how easily people forgot you were a Super when you weren't using your powers, but for the moment I was happy to just be left alone.

Nate led us around the back of the mall and through the employee parking lot, to an impressive black dually. With a beep the doors popped open, and we all climbed in, still not saying a word.

-

"No."

"Okay, how about this?"

"No."

"This?"

"HELL no."

"Maybe... this?"

"You're kidding, right?"

Dia morphed her clothes back to normal from her latest super-offering, a frustrated grimace marring her cute features. "Aww, come on, they're good designs!"

I stared at her in disbelief. "Just how many comic books do you read, anyhow?"

"All of them."

"Hah! Figures."

Comic books were the best comparison I could come up with for what she had offered me. There was the Wonder Woman-esque outfit, consisting of a tiger-striped bustier and hot pants. Then there was the Supergirl leotard and cheerleader skirt combo. Then there was the classic X-men body stocking with a pink and orange diamond pattern.

And there was no way in hell I would be caught dead wearing any of them.

"Well, then, why don't you tell me what you want?"

"Can do!" I said happily, pulling a sketch book out of my messenger bag. It was as close to carrying a purse as I was willing to come, and anyone wanting to argue with me could stuff it.

Dia looked over my shoulder as I flipped through the pages of designs I had worked up for possible costumes. I was rather proud of them myself, especially considering I'd only had a day to come up with them, but her frown told me she was less than happy.

"What's wrong?"

"Where's the pink?"

"There isn't any," I said with a grin.

"But... you're Switcheroo. And Switcheroo wears pink."

I shook my head. "Not this one."

"But--"

"Listen," I cut her off, an edge in my voice, "I know all the reasons why people with Legacy powers usually keep the same color schemes and costumes as the people who had the powers before. I ALSO know that I'm not the first person to change that. The old costume was only half a step away from fetish wear, and made me look like an extra from Flashdance. I'm willing to compromise on a lot of things, but in the end I have final say on the costume, okay?"

She flinched, making me feel bad, but she was nodding agreement.

Feeling a bit guilty, I offered a compromise. "Look, the pink is out, but if you want we can work with the orange color a bit, alright?"

The beginnings of a smile began to form on her face again, and I knew I had made the right decision.

"So, how can we make this work?"

She looked over my sketches again for a moment, looking thoughtful. "All of these have baggy clothing elements to them."

I nodded. "I wanted it to be comfortable and functional even when I'm not in animal form." It still tired me out to change as often as I tended to when fighting, and the last thing I wanted to have to worry about was a leotard riding up in places it had no business going on top of that.

"I can see that, but the problem is the polymer used for the material has to fit close to the skin in order to be able to change with you. With something like this," she pointed to one of my favorite combos, basically a tank top with combat fatigue cargos, "your pants would be ripped to shreds because they wouldn't be tight enough to react to your body chemistry."

"Well... shit." I could see what she was talking about, and why that threw most of my designs out the window. "Is there no way to make the material work further away from my body?"

"Not that I know of," Dia said, drumming her fingers on the table. Hearing the sound of their tapping coming from the speakers around us rather than the table itself was odd, but once you were around Dia for a while things like that tended to stop bothering you as much. "There is one person who might know, though."

"Who's that?"

She grinned. "My dad, of course."

-

NOTES:

Yes, I'm still writing. Yes, that includes "Princess For Hire," for those who are waiting ever-so-patiently for that -- the two or so left :P
Life's good at the moment, if hectic, and things are a bit slow in my personal writing world, but we'll see if getting this out there helps to spur me on or not.
As always, thanks for reading, and commenting, and not ripping me a new one over my mistakes and whatnot.

Melanie E.