A recent submission to the Hawkeye Initiative involved Wolverine instead:
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So, how did he get into the situation on the right?
[AN: Since the short answer of "Sara did it" is cowardly…]
He had one job. In two parts. Part One: Escort Sara to the comic shop and back. Part Two: Keep them both out of trouble.
And it was going well, so far.
"Uuuugghhhh…"
In the man-leaping-off-a-building sense of ‘so far, so good’.
Logan began tracing her faint lilac through the maze of shelves and the miasma of sweaty, unwashed fanboy funk. That sort of ‘ugh’ drew attention. It was inevitably the wrong sort of attention.
"Let me guess," came the cry of the Forever Alone Fedora(*). "You’re some kind’a feminazi out to ruin everything fun."
Yup. Someone was going to lose an eye.
"I don’t know, would it be fun for you to dress up like this?"
"Of course not. Duh. I’m a guy?"
"Well you certainly have a better rack than I do."
Logan found her, holding up the tome of contention. The cover featured an impossibly skinny woman in ridiculously impractical leather armour in an impossible pose and heavily featuring an equally impossible pair of zero-gravity bosoms.
Lady didn’t have the BMI to carry those jugs. Nor the muscle tone to carry anything…
"Geez," he murmured. "Any of those artists even seen a woman? Ain’t seen a worse hack job since Michelangelo."
The trilby-wearing fellow turned and looked him over. He did, indeed, sport a more sizeable bosom than Tallwater. He also sported an unwashed neck-beard, bad acne and a shirt that read I’m here! Now what were your other two wishes?(#). If it had ever been clean, it had been in a previous life.
Oddly, he relaxed and got even more superior. "Obviously a gentleman such as yourself has the experience. Please tell this female how comics aren’t even meant for her?"
"Your watch is slow, Casserole. In case you missed it, this year is 2014."
Uh oh. She was naming him after really cheap meat dishes. "Well, for a start, Tallwater can draw better art than this crap in her sleep."
"And I have," she added.
"Secondly, she and I could both beat you in a fair fight."
"Barehanded," added Tallwater.
"Third, you might want to lose the antagonistic attitude if you ever want to get laid."
"Oooooooooooh…" Tallwater happily did the Rigby-burn motion.
"You’re talking complete nonsense. That’s very obviously an outfit maximised for ease of movement and practicality."
"Oh come on, she isn’t even wearing the bow properly. And that quiver is about five seconds and a good sneeze away from falling right off."
"Tcha," snorted Trilby Guy. "Like you know how to even hold a weapon."
Logan raised his eyebrows. If he didn’t have a healing factor, he would still be sporting the bruises from the last time she’d beat him in a practice session with Bo staves. "Do you want to school him or shall I?"
"Oh, I think we can both school him."
"You couldn’t school me in a month of Sundays," Trilby Guy bragged. "I’ve been studying Crob Magaw."
"It’s pronounced ‘Krav Maga’. And I have five hundred dollars that says you couldn’t fit into that outfit, let alone beat me in a fair fight."
"Any time. Any place. Both of you. And we all wear the outfit."
"Gym down the road. Come with me and I’ll get you fitted. Soon as we’re dressed, we can start." Tallwater sighed. "Regrettably, I shall have to purchase this issue as an example for Rock."
"Wait. Not Rock Bixby? Famous costume designer and crafter?"
"Tallwater shops for him," supplied Logan.
"OMIGOB I GET TO MEET ROCK BIXBY!" And he spent the rest of the afternoon in a geeky cloud of sparkling, starstruck glee.
He really should have noticed something was up when Rock said, "This another one, Sara?"
And, when the aliens attacked, it was why he and Tallwater were fighting them off in skimpy leather bikinis while Trilby Guy ‘just caught his breath’ for an hour.
(*) Most commonly a Trilby
(#) This shirt exists and it is inevitably worn by very unattractive men