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I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!
As Stephanie dodged her way around a group of gossiping teenage girls, the only thoughts in her head were that she shouldn't have taken that shortcut through the alleyway, and that she hoped there wasn't any blood on her jacket. Thug blood was always a pain to wash out, it's why she didn't wear her jacket when she went patrolling. But she just had to take the shortcut and find five ( Five! What were gangs coming to these days?) men shaking down a man and his husband.
"Nothing for it," mumbled Stephanie to herself, "Ima will understand."
A crowd ahead blocked her way, and Stephanie started to curse under her breath. At least until she saw who was at the center of the crowd. Not that she was hard to miss, what with being taller even than Stephanie was in her heeled boots, and the green skin, and the five rows of shark-like teeth that showed whenever she grinned, which was often (Ima was a pro when it came to interacting with fans). No, Ima was difficult to not see, which is part of why she still had a job and Stephanie was beating up goons in alleyways.
Not that it was Ima's fault though. No, Stephanie kept all the blame for that on the shoulders of those assholes in Marketing and Management who decided that even if alien ex-gladiators made for better heels, they still wouldn't release Stephanie's contract so she could go work somewhere else. Bastards, the lot of them.
From the center of the crowd, Ima looked up from signing autographs and caught sight of Stephanie.
"Ironjaw!" she called, her voice booming harshly from a small pendant hanging around her neck. The crowd turned to see who Ima was looking at and, to their credit, a few of them broke away from the main crowd and gathered around Stephanie.
Claims of being her biggest fan, pleas for autographs, and questions about her absence from the ring were met with smiles, scribbles on proffered sheets of paper, and repeated mutterings of "no comment" until Stephanie reached the center of the crowd with Ima.
"I am afraid we must be to going," came Ima's harsh voice from the pendant again, "Thank to all of you for being fans." Another smile and Ima began leaving the crowd behind, with Stephanie following close after her.
Once they had left the crowd behind, Ima pressed a button on her pendant. The next time she spoke the voice came from her own mouth in a much more pleasant, if sibilant tone.
"I hate having to sound like an uneducated brute, but such are the ways of kayfabe. Speaking of…" She pointed to her face, and Stephanie reached up to find her mask still on. She ripped it off and hurriedly stuffed it into her pocket.
"Sorry," said Stephanie, "Ran into some trouble on the way over and, like you said, such are the ways of kayfabe."
"I figured it was something like that," laughed Ima, "But now that we're not Piranha and Ironjaw, sworn enemies of the ring, and are just Ima Ladee and Stephanie Jacobs, friends out for lunch, I can ask you what's up with the stories I hear about you saving the city."
Stephanie sighed. "The first time was me being my usual idiot self. I'd just gotten the word from Janet, my manager, that Marketing wasn't going to release my contract and I sort of… wentoutandbeatupanentiregang."
"Typical Ironjaw," laughed Ima. "Never take it on the chin."
"Yeah, laugh it up. From there I kind of accidentally fell onto a local C-list hero team, the Outcasts, beat up some robots when they overran the sewers last month, and was given the key to the city. Then Janet had the bright idea to spin the whole thing into a ridiculous face turn for Marketing. Worst part is that they seem to be buying it."
"We all wish we had someone as good as Janet in our corner. Be glad of her."
"Oh, I know. She's getting the biggest present I can justify come her birthday."
A beeping noise started sounding from a small silver disc on Stephanie's belt. She grabbed at it and pressed the center. A voice came out, sounding panicked.
"Ironjaw, we need help! The Knight Mare is attacking downtown! We need--" The voice cut off and Stephanie looked sheepishly at Ima.
"Sorry," she said as she put her mask back on. "Looks like lunch will have to wait."
An explosion went off in the distance, from the direction of downtown.
"It's fine, said Ima as she pressed the button on her pendant, her own voice fading away and being replaced by the harsh mechanical voice from before. "They are overcooked the fish anyway."
"Well then, Piranha," Ironjaw grinned at her friend, "Let's go fight a horse."