A few hours later, someone is watching a special video in that very station... ("Fairburne" pt. 1)

The video begins by warning, in bright red letters, (VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED, UNPLEASANT CONTENT), followed by a single title card:

11/6/2016

Fairburne. C-rank superheroine.

Time active: 0.6 years.

Superpowers and/or talents: Enhanced strength (Delta-class), enhanced durability (Beta-class), enhanced intellect (estimated IQ >170).

Affiliation: 'The Teen Turbines'

The camera does an opening pan through the hallways of the police station. It's clearly late at night, and most desks and offices are empty. In the utility closet, a pair of female hands place a bulky, sparking electronic device of some kind on the main power box, where it clamps into place. A second later, the lights in the hallways flicker and go out. However, they only stay out for a short while before the emergency power kicks in. The reliability of the back-up system is impressive, but the video pans up to show the security cameras in the hallways motionless, their power LED's dark.

It cuts to a heavyset older man waving to others as he walks towards the exit, coat slung over his shoulder. The thickness of his arms and shoulders show that this cop has clearly kept up his workout routine enough that he could still wrestle most perps into handcuffs, but not enough to stop himself developing a bit of a paunch. His hair and short moustache are going grey, marking him as a long time veteran of the department. The badge on his collared shirt reads 'Detective Dan Murphy'.

"Damn it," he mutters. "I can't remember if I locked the office door or not. Gonna drive me crazy the whole way home if I don't go back and double check it. Now that I finally got on the chief's good side I don't wanna give him any little reasons to chew me out..."

After he pushed his office door open, the long-time police detective froze two steps in as what he was seeing registered. There, bent over his desk and tapping at his computer, was an absolutely statuesque young woman. Some kind of device he didn't recognize was plugged into the computer, but his eyes seem to be locked in place on the unauthorized visitor.

(Panel art of original, "Fairchild")

She's quite tall, with messy medium-length red hair, gritting her teeth in frustration at being interrupted and regarding the office's owner contemptuously. The girl is wearing a long-sleeved green leotard that extends down just past her belly button, with the left sleeve and a stripe down the left torso being colored purple. Aside from boots, the only thing she's got on beneath her leotard is a pair of green bikini bottoms tight enough that her feminine cleft is visible, and the upper portion of her costume is doing a fantastic job of supporting the full, perky DD breasts she's sporting.

Her voice is forceful and confident. "Get out of here, flatfoot. This is hero business. I'll send an explanation to your boss later."

The man balls up his fists and takes a step forward. "Are you..." with obvious effort, he tears his eyes away from her well-toned midriff and her breasts and stares her down. "...Are you freakin' kidding me? Some brat in spandex breaks into my office, starts going through the computer I keep my casefiles and evidence logs on, and YOU are tellin' ME to leave?! You," he snorts contemptuously, "'heroines' think you just own this city, huh? Is that right?"

The girl rolls her eyes and her frown deepens. "Do you have wax in your ears? Or maybe you just don't know who I am. I. Will. Explain. Later. I need access to the database in this place, concerning the well-being of a member of my team. If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at the obstructive meter maid at the front desk who made me come get the information myself instead of just being a good public servant and giving one of the REAL protectors of this city what she needs. Call the League of Propriety if you don't believe me. Tell them you're sandbagging Fairburne, of the Teen Turbines, while she's on a vital mission." She puts her hands on her hips defiantly. "Oh, and for the record, I didn't 'break in'," she adds air quotes with her fingers. "The door was unlocked."

"Whatever!" Detective Murphy says. "No need to wait, we can go see what Chief Johnson has to say about this right now. C'mere, gir-" as he is speaking, the aging detective puts his hand out as if to grab the spunky redheaded heroine by her waist. His words are cut off by her hand lashing out and grabbing him by his thick neck. Demonstrating strength far beyond what her sexy figure would suggest, Fairburne lifts him up off the ground by his throat, leaving his feet kicking helplessly as he sputters and gasps for air. Both of his hands clutch at her arm, trying to pull it away, but Farrow just ****-slams him into the wall.

Clearly **** now, Dan begins reaching for the gun holstered under his shoulder. The redheaded beauty just huffs through her flared nostrils. "Yeah, right, like that's gonna do any good. Save your bullets. The thugs and goons who try and get in my way on a nightly basis waste enough of them already. Now you can either sit quietly until I've got what I need, or I can leave you tied up with a sock in your mouth. And if you want to try eating donuts through a straw, just TRY and put your hands on me again."

Taking his hands away, Dan the detective manages to nod his head in between gasping for air.

Fairburne smirks with grim satisfaction. "Hmph. Good. Now, I'm going to-" she suddenly stops and looks at the door. "...shit. Shit!" Before the detective can react, she swings him bodily over his desk so he lands into his swiveling chair, and then seats herself on the side of the desk, blocking the view of the device plugged into the computer with her shapely hips.

A short, broad-shouldered man of about 5 feet pushes his way into the office, contrasting with a towering, muscle-bound cop at least 6 and a half feet tall in a patrol uniform who is following right behind him. "Whoah, hey there, Danny Boy. I was hoping I'd catch you before you left but I didn't know I was interrupting something. Who's this babe? You know... I don't like supers wandering around my station without my knowledge, no matter how cute they are. If you brought a heroine in without so much as telling the front desk about it, let alone your commander, we're going to need to have a long talk in my office..."

Finally managing to catch his breath, Dan Murphy looks caught. Even though the redheaded heroine is posing winsomely, she narrows her eyes at him. Dan looks back and forth between her and his short-statured boss, the notorious captain Richard Johnson. "That's... it's... ahhh, listen, she's not a real heroine, okay? She's just dressed up like one. She's a... you know, a 'dancer'. Remember how it's my birthday this weekend and a few of the guys were joking around about hiring a girl from an agency to 'give me my traditional spanking'? I thought they were just kidding around but apparently not."

Fairburne stares irately at him, but then looks back to the chief and the guy behind him, Officer Watters, an ex-hero himself and fairly well known NCP ("non-costumed power") possessing car-lifting strength. The heroine forces herself to smile with visible effort.

"So, anyway, normally I'd tell her to leave but I don't want the guys to think I didn't appreciate the gesture, it can't have been cheap, as nice-looking as this one is. All perfectly legal, she can even show you her driver's license if you need her to. But, would you mind keeping this one under your hat, sir? Lotta the department have big mouths and I don't want this making its way back to my wife."

Captain Johnson stares intensely for a second. Fairburne's hand twitches. But then, the short police captain breaks out into laughter. "Haahahaha! Ah, you don't have to worry about a thing, Dan. If a hard-working, diligent policeman with two dozen high-profile arrests under his belt can't get himself a lap dance for his birthday, what's the world coming to? Matter of fact, since I forgot about it completely, let me pitch in." he reaches into his pocket, pulls his wallet and slaps a small stack of $20 dollar bills on the table. "There ya go, consider that my part of it. Pitching in for the tip and any extra services, all perfectly legal of course. Wink. You can get me back for it when it's my turn."

He gestures at the shocked superheroine and his subordinate. "I'll leave you to it in a minute, but c'mon, sugar tits, show me and Watters a little bit of what you've got."