Victor flew through the air, his fist aiming straight at the shark dude’s face. Inez, seeing him coming, created a beacon of light and aimed it straight into the shark’s eye. The shark dude put his hands up, closing his eyes just before Victor slammed into him with all the force kinetic energy would allow.

It nearly dislocated Victor’s shoulder, the jarring pain making him hiss through his teeth.

As the shark dude flew backwards, Nick took aim and fired. Two sleeping darts hit the shark in the arm, sending him unconscious before he landed.

Emmy ran over, tying the shark dude up with her ropes. The battle was won.

Shawn came out of hiding, already talking to the chief of police on his phone. Victor was always mildly impressed with how Shawn could spend a fight hiding behind a car, then walk out as calmly and confidently as if he feared nothing.

Victor landed near Inez, rotating his arm. “Ow.”

“That was a solid hit,” she said, smiling at him. “Is your arm ok?”

“My arm feels like jello, but it’s not hurt,” he said.

Nick smirked, walking up. “And that’s why I strike from a distance.”

“How long will he be out?” Emmy asked, suddenly on the other side of Victor. “Are those ropes strong enough? We need to get chains or something for stronger enemies. I’m hungry, think the Chicken Shack on Third is still open?”

Shawn snapped his fingers at her, still talking on the phone. “No, sir, the road isn’t damaged. Traffic should be able to start back up as soon as the shark man is in custody.” As he spoke he opened his backpack to toss Emmy a power bar.

The speedster caught it, grumbling about wanting real food as she devoured the bar.

“Yes, sir, we’ll wait here until the van arrives,” Shawn told the chief, making the team as a whole groan. “No, sir, it isn’t a problem at all. Yes, sir. Very well, sir. Good-bye.” He hung up, looking at the group.

“I don’t want to wait for the van,” Emmy complained. “Last time it took like fifteen minutes!”

“No one wants to wait for the van,” Shawn said calmly. “Victor, how’s your arm?”

“It’ll be fine in an hour or so,” Victor said.

“I’m glad, but you could have avoided that punch,” Shawn told him. “Inez, how are your eyes?”

Inez blinked deliberately a few times. “They’re good. No burning.”

Shawn nodded. “Did anyone else look directly at her light?”

The team shook their heads.

“Nick, did you-“

Nick held up three darts, smiling. “Got ‘em.”

Emmy, having finished her power bar, walked to Shawn and rummaged in his backpack for another bar. “We’re fine, dad, we’ve been at this long enough you don’t have to check everyone after every single fight. Especially after a little mini baby fight like this one.”

Shawn finally smiled. “As team dad, otherwise known as manager, it’s my job to make sure you kids are ok. And bring snacks.”

Nick grinned. “Hey Dad, can I drive the car on the way home?”

“Dad, can I have twenty dollars?” Inez asked.

“Can we get a pool, Dad?” Victor asked.

“Oh, yeah, I vote pool!”

“A rooftop pool?”

“Dad, you have to let us get a pool!”

Shawn sighed, going to check on the unconscious shark dude.

Inez closed her eyes, leaning against Victor in the back seat of the car. Being able to create light was an amazing power, she wouldn’t trade it for anything, but it did make her tired. Her hands felt dry from the heat it gave off. And her eyes… The tinted goggles she wore as part of her costume certainly helped, but Inez knew that if she kept using light like this she’d be blind by the time she turned forty.

That was twenty years off, though. A problem for future Inez. Current Inez’s only problem was wondering if Nick would make something normal for dinner, or try molecular gastronomy again.

She felt the car turn, and heard the tires roll over gravel. They were almost home.

“I could eat an entire rotisserie chicken,” Emmy announced, bouncing slightly on Inez’s other side. “Nick, what’s for dinner?”

“Well, I was thinking-“

“No! No thinking,” Emmy snapped. “Every time you say you’re thinking of something it turns out to be noodles made out of algae or essence of pizza or something. I want real food.”

“I liked the pizza essence salad,” Victor said.

“Thank you.” Nick’s smirk was audible.

“I’m not saying it was bad, I’m just saying I’d rather have a real pizza,” Emmy said.

“I’ll order you a pizza,” Shawn told her, pulling the car to a stop in the garage. “What were you thinking of, Nick?”

“I want pizza, too,” Inez yawned, sitting up. “Nothing weird, please.”

“I was thinking of sushi,” Nick said as they got out of the car. “Shark guy made me think of seafood, and I haven’t had sushi in a while.”

“Yeah, I was wanting something fish-based,” Victor agreed. “I vote sushi.”

Inez looked at Emmy, neither of them convinced. Nick, with his “superpower” of innately knowing everything about chemicals and how they combine and react, rarely made a dish that was completely what the name implied. He was a mad scientist through and through. As useful as his poisons and chemicals were in battle, his true passion was making insane looking (and usually delicious) food for the team. Victor loved it, Shawn enjoyed it, and Inez appreciated never having to cook. Emmy, barely eighteen and cursed with a metabolism that could kill a hummingbird, would much rather eat her weight in chicken nuggets every day than figure out what Nick was putting on her plate.

“Will you still order me a pizza?” Emmy asked Shawn.

“I’m insulted,” Nick lied.

Shawn nodded. “Just one though.”

“Cool,” she said, and vanished into the building.

The rest of the team followed her, not talking as they went to their rooms. Inez pulled off her goggles, hanging them on the doorknob to her room. The rest of her costume, khaki shorts and a white t-shirt with her sun logo on it, was comfortable enough she didn’t need to remove anything before collapsing onto her bed.

Some hero teams loved flashy spandex onesies that could survive nuclear blasts. The other team in the city had matching uniforms that kind of looked like wetsuits. Shawn insisted his team use clothes they wouldn’t mind wearing to the mall. Honestly, the draw of wearing normal clothes was what had made Inez choose this team. It let her feel normal. Sure, she could create light by focusing energy in her hands, her boyfriend avoided traffic by flying, and she’d had noodles made out of frozen strawberry jam on her toast this morning. But she wore a t-shirt to work. Very normal.

There was a knock on her door. Victor opened it without waiting for a reply.

“Hey, after dinner want to go skating?”

Inez took a deep breath, debating. “Shawn wanted me to work on my self-defense fighting.”

“Be a rebel,” Victor said, smiling. “Skip training.”

“Hmm…”

“I’ll get you-“

The building exploded.