This was what I submitted to the Guardians, and also what I sent to submit for Time Rifters. Hope you all enjoy it.

Midnight — Oakland, California

It’d been a pretty hard night, all in all.

Misa considered this as she rounded a corner to try to catch up to the baka doing a runner. The rest of the street gang she’d left in various heaps, here and there, and gangbangers always had at least one cell phone on them. It was starting to become a bit of a calling card for Kitsune, she reflected. Beat up the thugs, pat them down, dial 911 and call it in.

While she talked, she used the plastic tie downs to restrain the gangbangers so they didn’t wander off, and did a little first aid if necessary. Bad cases would get the Ankh of Genbu, but those were thankfully rare. It was rare that a thug could stand up to one of her punches or kicks, but if they were healthy enough to run in a gang, they were healthy enough to take a little chin music.

She just finished packing things up when that idiot shot her.

She heard the burst and saw the muzzle flash. One nine millimeter slug hit her left breast, causing her uniform to tear and her to gasp in painful shock, but the other slugs went up and over her shoulder due to recoil. She hated getting shot, not because it damaged her so much as that it just hurt. It also tore her uniform, but the sports bra she wore beneath had been reinforced, so she didn’t provide anyone with a bit of titillation. That had been a lesson learned through experience, and that picture of her remained her most famous, dammit.

The Idiot stood there for a second in surprised disbelief. If you believed the movies, people would just fly back from being shot as if they were on wires, but the diminutive superheroine hadn’t even budged. Kitsune jumped up and yelled “Temee-me!” at the top of her lungs, gritting her teeth in her fury. The Idiot, not being that suicidal, dropped his useless weapon and ran for it.

Naturally, she gave chase. Once she timed herself, running all out on US 101, and she could run just slightly slower than the legally posted speed limit, keeping pace with traffic. Unless it was rush hour, then the little superheroine could just pass traffic because it was standing still. In the city, though, there were twists and turns, alleys and obstacles, and the damned baka had managed to give her the slip.

She lost her footing while landing after a short jump, and skidded to a stop. That didn’t help the state of her uniform, she noted. Superheroines in the media never seemed to be on a budget, after all, while she had bills to pay on top of other expenses. She paused to spit out the road dust, and her eyes moved around her to see if she could spot her prey. No luck, the bastard was gone.

In disgust she jumped to her feet and kicked the garbage can, having it rattle and crash against the wall.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” a voice said in the darkness. Misa jumped in surprise, her reflexes poised on the cusp of fight or flight.

A man stepped out of the shadow, tall and wearing a trenchcoat over some kind of jump suit. He carried himself like a fed.

“My name is Rod Bellar.” He began, “Director of AEGIS. And, if you have time, I’d like for you to join me at this address and time.” He set on the ground an envelope without markings.

Misa recognized the name of both Mr. Bellar and his Organization. She’d paid attention to superheroes before her transformation, even, and now it was a bit of professional courtesy. Personally, she’d wondered at whether the Protectors from across the bay would have extended an offer to her, but she’d only been patrolling for a couple of years, and the news coverage of her tended to be buried in the Oakland Tribune. The Oakland Post didn’t like her for whatever reason and would run rather nasty editorials about her. The Street Sheet liked her style and her defense for the homeless against street gangs. That was something, at least.

“A friend of mine is putting together a team. We’ve been watching you some and think that you’d be a great asset.” He started then held up his hands, “This is not a government job; it’s private. I am only a messenger here.”

“There’s a phone in the envelope, it’s good for seven days.” He said, “If we don’t hear from you, we’ll assume that you are not interested.”

With that, Mr. Bellar walked away, back into the shadows that spawned him.

Misa picked up and pocketed the envelope, then paused to consider things. Another date with needle and thread, she thought to herself, then resumed her patrol. She managed to get back home safely enough, with nothing more exciting than a foiled mugging and another tear in her costume. Like a knife wielded by a normal human being was going to penetrate her skin. Please. Then again, she wasn’t a famous superheroine recognized the world over, so she had to grant the fellow had a point. Of course, he also had a cell phone, with a camera attachment, even. She took a picture of the thug and sent it to the e-mail address for the contributing editor of the Oakland Tribune. 911 received another call from the mysterious Kitsune, and then she went and called it a night.

Misa stepped out of the shower the next morning, getting ready for work at the café. While drying her hair, she glanced over to the counter where she left Mr. Bellar’s package. The envelope held several items and at least a couple of surprises. The airline ticket for Friday, September 14, from SFO to Walker Airfield, in Grand Junction, Colorado. The map to a particular spot in Aspen, Colorado was another interesting touch, but what arrested her attention was the four thousand dollars in crisp bills. That was more money than she’d ever been given in her life. Although it wasn’t the most money she’d ever held, not after dealing with a stolen armored car a couple of months ago. That actually had her on the front page of the Tribune.

The cell phone worried her. She didn’t like the idea of being traced, but the phone had been shut off and stayed off as far as she knew. She laughed, considering the changes here, and what might be going through the Author’s mind at this point. She wouldn’t say that she’d gotten into a rut, not really, but the sense of needing some new excitement in her life had been starting to build, and she wondered if it were the Author playing games again.

She felt in control of herself, but then again she always felt like she was in control of herself. But weird things would happen, and little indications that suggested that her life wasn’t really supposed to get boring. She wondered when or if that would ever change for the better. She remembered her life being boring, and while she thoroughly enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and the chase, she wouldn’t mind a bit of time when it was more… tranquil.

To hell with the old costume. If Mr. Bellar invited her to arrive professionally, then it was time to start dressing that way. Misa regards the money, then starts running through a shopping list. She knew of a place or two that did good quality costumes for cosplay, after all… It’s time to quit with the Super Senshin look and develop one that’s truly her own. Maybe the Lycra Zenshi suits…

Humming to herself, Misa went to brush her hair and get ready for work. Whatever this led to, it was certainly going to be exciting.