The television screen went through picture upon picture of a very familiar gent, the local news was yet again giving tribute to everyone's one and only superhero. For three years he had kept their city safe, and the reports went on about how he made them feel safe at night and rest easy knowing he was always there on the job. Helena Murphy stared at the screen, she barely noticed she had been clenching her teeth when someone nearby spoke up, asking for a coffee refill. For three years she had been undercover, using the name her agency gave to her, and here she was, a super, made into a common waitress at a local diner. Of course they made her take an occupation that wouldn't involve animals, that would make it all too obvious. No, they put her in a spot she detested, working non-stop with humans. And to think three years ago she wasn't just helping them by filling their glasses and bringing their food, she was out there saving lives not known at Helena but as the Prowler. Oh, how she longed for the battlefield, the sweet taste that victory left on her tongue. Now the only thing she ever tasted or smelled were coffee grinds. Finally her shift was over and her replacement had actually arrived on time for once. She made her way into the back room and gathered her hoodie and purse, and let her black hair down from it's pony tail. Helena tugged on her jacket before exiting the diner, finding that it was still a little chilly but not as freezing cold as this morning. As usual the streets were never empty, and she blended in well with the crowd as she made her way back toward her tiny apartment which was not bad but not great either. Normal people would be pondering about what left overs they had left in the fridge of when they would hear from that girl they gave their number to last night. Instead Helena thought about previous battles, and how lovely the wind feels beneath her wings as a bird. As she approached her home she dug out the keys from her purse and climbed the stairs to her apartment number seventy seven, unlocked the door and gave it a good shove to open it. It was just as she had left it, rather clean with a very lived-in feeling as old bills still lay scattered across the dining room table and the recycling needed to be taken out. The woman approached her telephone to see that there was a message on her answering machine. Helena hit the play button as she removed her jacket and began unbuttoning the top half of her uniform. "Hey, P. Just calling to let you know there's a meeting tonight. Ten sharp." The voice of a friend came from the small answering machine speaker. "Great." Helena murmured at the thought of having to make the trip out, but she hadn't seen the others in a while, and it had to be something important. Helena removed her work clothes and dressed into a t-shirt and jeans, which she found much more comfortable, and went about acting like there was nothing special about her. She heated herself a bowl of pasta she made the previous night and flopped down on her couch to enjoy some television.