Lois, a.k.a. Torpedo, his partner in crime-fighting, levitated into the air and bobbed restlessly beside him.

“Can’t we just fly to battle? I hate taking the boat,” she muttered impatiently.

Victor’s gaze remained fixed.

“Don’t sell our nautical strategy short, Lois. No one ever suspects the boat,” he stated unequivocally.

Lois glared at him.

“And flying is dangerous…” he said softly.

Lois let out a resigned laugh and shook her head.

“Pfft. Right. It’s safer than a boat…” she mumbled, checking her watch. Victor swiftly turned to her, his eyes wide.

“What do you mean? What have you heard? What’s wrong with the boat?” he asked, clutching her shoulder with one hand.

Lois thought for a moment. She could easily name a hundred reasons why flying was the safer (and vastly more time efficient) than taking a boat, but it would just result in a long and drawn-out argument with Victor. She hated pandering to his paranoia, but she had to her own sanity to consider.

“Nothing,” she said grudgingly. “Boating is totally safer than flying.”

“That’s what I’ve always said!” Victor trumpeted, his powerful hand resting on her shoulder.

“You know I hate it when you hover, Lois,” he said, easing her down slowly so that her feet were now touching the ground.

She resisted the urge to stomp on his foot.

Behind them, the ferry was finally settling into the dock. Victor stood back as the gangplank lowered and clusters of families, pets and tourists shuffled on board ahead of them.

“I’m going to the top deck,” said Lois, heading towards the stairs. Victor demurred.

“I’d prefer if we stayed on the lower deck, Lois. My vertigo’s been acting up lately, and we need to be in peak form as we sail headlong into the clutches of our enemies…”

Lois threw up her hands in resignation.

“Fine. That’s fine. We’ll just sit here, on the bottom deck, NOT FLYING.”

Victor raised a pointed finger into the air.

“My thoughts exactly, Lois! My thoughts exactly.”

She flopped down on the ferry’s wooden benches and turned away from Victor, staring out the window. Victor regarded his comrade as she sat in a huff, refusing to acknowledge him. He planted his hands on his hips, and began doing lunges. Lois peered at him out of the corner of her eye. Victor lunge-walked into her field of vision.

“You know, Lois, you should really try limbering up before battle. It reduces the risk of cramping. Lactic acid is one of our most cunning adversaries…”

Lois shook her head “no”. Victor switched to jumping jacks.

“You know what makes the world a better place Lois? Teamwork. Picture this: It’s the fourth quarter…”

Lois leapt out of her seat, startling Victor. He flinched, and instinctively reached for a life jacket.

“No! No sports analogies. Please. I’ll lunge.” Lois insisted, as she reluctantly placed her hands on her hips and began her stretches. Victor inhaled deeply, then released a long and emotional sigh, as he regarded his partner with pride. She slowly and painfully lunged back and forth down the galley of the boat, muttering obscenities under her breath, her face locked in a perpetual scowl.

Victor blinked rapidly in an attempt to hide the tears which were welling in his eyes. He knelt down on the ground so that he was face to face with Lois. She stopped in front of him, mid-lunge.

“We really are a good team, aren’t we Lois?”

Her lips pursed and her jaw tightened.

“We will be as soon as you stop talking down to me.”

Victor stood up, striking a heroic pose. He laughed triumphantly.

“Oh Lois, you little firecracker! You really keep me on my toes. TO BATTLE!” he hollered, raising his fist in the air.

He marched assuredly to the bow of the boat. Standing, like a masthead, he gazed out to sea…
…and then turned, stumbling back towards Lois, ashen-faced. He reached out for her, swooning dramatically.

“I don’t recommend going out there, Lois. The waves… crashing… it… doesn’t look safe…” he managed to sputter, before laying down on a bench and covering his face with his arm. “Alert me when we get to battle…”

Lois sighed and turned to look out the window.

The sun glinted off the still waters. A gentle wind blew through the galley, carrying with it the sounds of children playing on the top deck of the ferry. Lois imagined them chasing one another in playful duels, their jackets and sweaters tied around their necks like capes, flapping behind them as they ran.