Owen figured this was the worst day of her life. The stench of the dumpster she was hiding in was making her tear up, but she couldn't leave yet. A glowing figure was still lingering outside the back door of the bank, and as long as she hovered there, watching the door, Owen had to put up with the dumpster.
Villainy sure was starting to have its downsides.
The night had gone perfectly until this point. Owen got into the bank, made her way into the main vault and sauntered out with a duffle bag stuffed with hundred dollar bills. And then a security guard spotted her, and before she could knock him out, radioed for help. And then New York's newest superhero had decided to show up to stop her. Firefly was starting to become the bane of Owen's existence. Every single little thing she did seemed to attract her attention, and Owen was sick of it. Just one night, she wanted to go in, steal a wad of cash or a stash of diamonds or something, without being thwarted by her.
It didn't help that Firefly seemed oddly familiar to the small-time supervillain. Something about her smile and the way her curly hair fell around her face.
Something in the dumpster rustled. Owen tried to keep herself from screaming, but the movement had attracted Firefly's attention. She dropped down, the glow vanishing from her skin as she wrenched the lid of the dumpster up.
"Spectre!" Firefly looked far too excited. She'd been a superhero for nearly four months now, so Owen expected the excitement that came with catching her to fade by now. It hadn't.
"Firefly," she deadpanned, desperately trying to find a way out. Indoors, she had the advantage; her agility made it difficult for Firefly to keep up with her, since she couldn't fly as well indoors. Outdoors, on the other hand, Firefly was bound to win.
"You know, we really need to stop meeting like this," Firefly remarked, snatching the duffle bag away from Owen. "If you let me drop this back inside, I might even consider letting you go."
"Not like I have a choice. Just- take it. Anything to get me out of this dumpster."
"I don't know, the dumpster chic look suits you."
Owen snorted. "Thanks, I think."
Firefly stepped back to give Owen the space to clamber out, which she did, as gracefully as a fully grown woman in a spandex costume climbing out of a dumpster could. She fixed her mask over her nose, attempted to dust herself off, and cringed as she realized the backs of her thighs were wet from... something in the dumpster. She didn't want to know.