“...and earlier today he held a press conference and said that the media should, and I quote, ‘just let it go’.” The host paused a beat and delivered the punchline, “Yeah, ‘just let it go’, like he did on the four-yard line!”

The studio audience responded with a few laughs and a louder volume of groans. “I didn’t know he had that many fans in the audience. Hey, I didn’t know he had that many fans, period!” That got a somewhat better response.

Tracy was about to change the channel looking for something more entertaining when she heard something that made her stop short.

“You all heard about the Trusty Twosome story, right?” Turning to someone offstage, he said, “Roll the tape.”

A now-familiar clip from Baroness Blackleather’s message played: “...meet me at the VaVaVidd Studio at ten o’clock...”

The monologue resumed. “Well, obviously she was luring them into a death trap. A death trap at a porn studio... grabbed by Magic Fingers, tied into a leather harness, and lowered into a vat of boiling massage oil under a descending ceiling mirror.”

Jenny and Tracy both burst out laughing.

“Well, actually no. It turned out that they took her up on the invitation, and it looks like they really hit it off, maybe buried the hatchet on the whole “arch-nemesis” thing.”

The screen displayed one of the short promo clips that had recently gone online. Video of the duo casting smoldering glances at each other was accompanied by voiceover audio of the Baroness asking if superheroics had affected their sexuality. Each heroine was seen winking and leering as her voice acknowledged that to be a distinct possibility.

“So, the upshot is that ladies who wear skintight spandex and get tied up a lot are probably pretty kinky. In other news, the Pope is still Catholic.”

Jenny tousled Tracy’s hair. “Remember how you used to throw stuff at the TV when somebody made sexist jokes about us?” she mock-chided.

“How’d you know that?” She hadn’t done that in the week since Jenny had moved in with her.

“I know you,” she replied, “so it was easy to guess.” Grinning mischievously, she asked, “Know what else I figured out?”

“Trying to impress me?” Her tone was half Vindiatrix the mentor, half Tracy the girlfriend. “Tell me, Shield Lass,” she said in her ‘mentor’ voice, “what else did you figure out?”

“I figured out that this show is being rerun later tonight, so we can watch it then and do something else now.”

Tracy looked thoughtful for a moment. “Clever,” she said as she reached for the remote and turned off the TV. “So,” she purred, “just what ‘else’ did you have in mind?”

Jenny gave a leering growl and pounced on her.

-----

After the fifth repetition of the 1-800 number to call for a free sample bottle of MasculEnhancite™ and the second reminder that the offer would be doubled for calls received in the next ten minutes, the commercial faded to black and the next one began.

A familiar montage showed Vindiatrix and Shield Lass in crime-fighting action. After a few seconds, the scene shifted to a rear view of the pair standing close together and watching a monitor screen that displayed the Baroness’s invitation.

“...the sexual tension between you two...” The two heroines shifted slightly, brushing against each other.

“...must be close to boiling over!...” The duo held hands.

“...meet me at the VaVaVidd Studio at ten o’clock....” The heroines moved offscreen, followed by the sound of the Vindicar’s motor revving up.

The camera zoomed in until the monitor display filled the entire screen. The picture shimmered as the fuzzy desaturated scene-within-a-scene became bright and sharp, then pulled back to show the Baroness onstage with cameras and microphones visible in the background.

She stood up and smiled. “I’m pleased to announce that they accepted my proposition! They allowed me to liberate them from their inhibitions, and they were absolutely delighted to discover the joy of....”

The scene cut to a view of Vindiatrix and Shield Lass exchanging a passionate kiss.

The Baroness finished the sentence in voiceover, slowly and clearly enunciating the words, “...spandex girlsex!”

The text “SPANDEX GIRLSEX” appeared across the bottom of the screen, syllable by syllable in sync with the spoken line. It remained in place as the camera panned down the women’s bodies, lingering over their curves.

“Of course, there’s only so much we can show you on TV. If you want to see less spandex and more girlsex...”

The screen showed the heroines’ legs as their tights and panties slid down to their feet.

“...you’ll have to go to our hot new website...”

The suffix “.com” was appended to the caption. An additional line reading “ADULTS ONLY — 18 OR OLDER!” appeared below it.

“...‘SpandexGirlsex dot com’...”

The top halves of the heroines’ costumes, along with their brassieres, fell to the floor.

“...where sexy superheroines get naughty!”

“Sign up for an account on SpandexGirlsex dot com and download the uncensored extended version of this scene, completely free of charge,” the voiceover continued as the camera panned upward. Pixellated views of the women’s bare backsides and bosoms offered a teasing hint of hidden attractions.

The scene was replaced by a shot of the Intimate Initiation DVD case, with captions advertising its upcoming availability in both physical disc and digital download formats. “But if you really want to see these lovely ladies in action... and I don’t mean chasing crooks... Friday the thirteenth is your lucky day! At the stroke of midnight, their first full-length feature goes on sale—uncut, uncensored, and totally uninhibited! The first five hundred preorders are five dollars off!”

The image remained onscreen as another voice announced, “‘SpandexGirlsex’ is a registered trademark of Baroness Blackleather Productions. Any rebroadcast, redistribution, or replication of paid website or video content without express written permission of Baroness Blackleather Productions is prohibited.”

The screen faded to black.

As the next commercial began, Baroness Blackleather stretched in her recliner, reaching for the remote to silence an annoyingly strident exhortation to invest in gold before dollars became worthless paper. Even if the advice made sense, it didn’t apply to her; she had long ago cached a large supply of gold coins and other secure untraceable assets, just in case. The income from this new enterprise, being perfectly legal if not quite perfectly respectable, was channeled through an ordinary corporate bank account, but she had arrangements set up to quickly transfer and launder the money if something went wrong.

She stood up, stretched, and headed for her bedroom, making a mental note to check the website in the morning to see how many memberships and preorders it received. She wasn’t really expecting much from these cheap commercials in graveyard timeslots, however. They were merely a trigger for the real publicity campaign, which wouldn’t cost her a cent.

-----

While doing a bit of ego-surfing for reactions to the commercials and website content, Jenny stumbled upon a forum thread titled “SpandexGirlsex Videos—Real or Fake?”:

CargoCultPants: They must think we’re stupid if they expect us to think those are really Vindiatrix and Shield Lass. First, they never name names, which is obviously to cover Baroness Blackleather’s ass. Second, the commercial never gives you a good look at their faces—if they aren’t completely out of frame or hidden, they’re mashed together trying to suck out each other’s tonsils.

NineInchMan: id cover her ass with buterscotch and lik it off lol. u see their faces right at the beginnig of the commercal (but if thats where u were lookin maybe u should wait until Beefy Dude and his sidkick ****boy make a porno movie you ****).

MotorFred: NineInchMan, I see you just signed up today. If you want your account to still be here tomorrow, knock it off with the personal insults. Anyway, of course it’s really them at the beginning of the commercial—that’s stock footage that gets used all the time. Notice how when the commercial shows the two of them listening to the Baroness’s message, you see them from the back. They could be anybody with the right body type and hair (or wig) color.

NineInchMan: **** u u just dont want them 2 b **** cause u wanna **** em. 2 bad 4 u they just wanna lik each others ****. maybe if u ask real nice theyll let u watch lol.

CargoCultPants: Do you have anything to add to the discussion, or do you just want to stir up trouble? Reported.

NineInchMan: **** U ****!!!

MotorFred: They’ll let NineInchMan watch if he asks his mommy real nice if he can borrow her credit card to buy porn.

Admin: NineInchMan has been banned for trolling. His messages have been edited to remove the profanities. MotorFred, Much as he may deserve it, that sort of mockery usually just makes things worse; please don’t do it again.

Jenny rolled her eyes as she read this exchange. It had started off fairly interesting, until the troll had barged in. She shook her head. People had so many stupid hangups about sex, ready to explode into heated conflicts as soon as somebody was immature enough to set them off.

Well, now that the troublemaker was gone, perhaps things would get back on track. She continued reading.

MotorFred: I apologize to everybody for letting NineInchMan drag me down to his level. Anyway, while I don’t rule out the possibility of look-alike actresses, I think it’s probably the real Vindiatrix and Shield Lass. We have FaceRecChek on some of the secure systems at my office; I brought in some images from the commercial and the extended cut and ran a comparison against known genuine photos. (Officially, I was doing a software test; the images were cropped to be work-safe.) The results came back “inconclusive”. Between their masks and the way their faces were pressed together, that’s not surprising. That said, I think I would have gotten a definite “negative” result if they were body doubles....

Jenny scrolled down; the post went on for several more paragraphs about the technical details of face recognition. Most of it was at least vaguely familiar to her; she’d read a few articles on the subject to satisfy her curiosity about how domino masks could possibly work as well as they did. The post did mention one new and surprising fact: apparently some faces were surprisingly difficult to recognize with the addition or removal of ordinary eyeglasses.

She wasn’t sure she believed that, but the linked article did make a half-decent case. Her curiosity led down a few other random alleys, and then she turned in for the night.

-----

“Next on Tongue Waggers, a lesbian sex tape!”

Meghan Firrello paused dramatically. “Stay tuned to find out who. I’ll give you a hint: tight spandex and hip-hugging utility belts.”

When the show resumed after the commercial break, Meghan said, “All right, that hint was too easy. I’m sure you’ve all figured out that this is about that message Baroness Blackleather sent to Vindiatrix and Shield Lass two weeks ago.”

The screen cut to a replay of the message. The villainess’ smirking visage remained on the screen as the host’s voiceover declared, “Now, she’s announcing that the Trusty Twosome took her up on the offer.” Clips from the commercial played silently in the background. “The Baroness is now advertising an adult video to be released next week. Judging from the preview photos that have been appearing on her website over the past few days, it shows the heroines in some extremely compromising positions!”

The camera cut back to Meghan and the sly grin she always trotted out for a particularly juicy scandal story. “Now the question on everyone’s lips is: Is this a real story or just the Baroness up to her old tricks?”

An amateurish composite of Vindiatrix’s head on a nude female body censored with black bars appeared in the upper left corner of the screen. “We all know the Internet is full of fake celebrity nudes. Usually, they’re pretty obvious.”

The insert image now showed two the promotional pictures the Baroness had posted online: topless photos of Vindiatrix and Shield Lass framed to exhibit as much cleavage as possible without showing their nipples. “The question is whether these pictures are the real thing. We consulted some image analysis experts. They all agree: these pictures are not cut-and-paste jobs and not computer generated.”

The screen cut to side-by-side views of the heroines in action and a clip from a recent TV movie dramatizing their exploits. “Another theory out there is that the Baroness hired body-double actresses. However, that seems unlikely, given the latest evidence.” She put on her best “serious journalist” face. “While the video clip we’re about to show has been edited in accordance with network standards, some viewers may find it inappropriate.”

Meghan paused for a few seconds. “Final warning.”

The screen showed one of the latest teaser video clips posted to the SpandexGirlsex website. It showed—with some strategically applied blurring—Vindiatrix and Shield Lass engaging in some impressive feats of acrobatics while topless.

“As we mentioned yesterday, Alison Castrid and Brandi LaRelle, who played the Trusty Twosome in Syndicate Smashdown, have both issued statements denying rumors that they’re the women in the Baroness’s pictures. Given that our image analysis experts, working from the uncensored version of the video you’ve just seen, could find no sign of wires or other mechanical assistance for performing those stunts, we can consider it confirmed that this clip shows the real Trusty Twosome showing off their athletic prowess...” She smirked. “...and a few other things.”

The screen suddenly went blank. Crimson Crag sat up and leaned forward, superpowered muscles ready for action, eyes and ears alert.

No message appeared on the screen. The interruption wasn’t an emergency call to ParaPatrol headquarters — it was just the TV cutting out for some reason. He glanced at the remote to see if it had gotten bumped.

Sure enough, it had been moved, but not accidentally. It was hovering a few inches above the arm of the recliner. “Aren’t you supposed to be monitoring the news?” Ethrienne asked as she walked into the room.

“I’m monitoring public opinion.” His granite-like body settled back into his reinforced recliner as the psychic heroine let the remote settle back into place. Neither of them took news-monitor duty seriously. When they were needed, they always got an emergency alert while the reporters were still figuring out what was going on. That was part of the point of having a base and an organization, after all.

“Who cares about the opinions of the slack-jawed morons who watch this crap?” she snorted. “You’re just lucky it wasn’t Palladium Paladin who walked in.” Crimson Crag and Ethrienne respected their leader’s tactical skills, but constantly groused behind his back at his rather brusque demeanor.

“You’re just jealous because they aren’t talking about you,” Crimson Crag teased.

Ethrienne was now close enough to give him a firm dope slap to the back of the head. For him, it was barely noticeable, and he only chuckled in response. “I mean, you’ve had your run-ins with the Baroness. Why’d she leave you out of the invitation? Maybe you’re just not her type?”

The heroine scowled. Even before she spoke, her teammate realized that he’d pushed the joke too far. “Baroness Butchlezbo knows I’d turn her brain inside out if she tried a stunt like that with me!” she growled.

“Sorry,” Crimson Crag replied shamefacedly. He’d pushed the joke way too far. Time to change the subject. “You think there’s any chance this is for real?” he asked. It was the first thing that came to mind, and he immediately wished he’d paused long enough to think of something else.

“Of course it’s not for real! You wouldn’t even ask something like that if you weren’t watching those tabloid sleaze creeps! All they know how to do is pander to the lowest common denominator by digging up dirt, or making up dirt if they can’t find any—”

“All right!” He put up his hands in a placating gesture, interrupting his colleague’s rant. “I was just making a stupid joke. I’m sorry if I hit a sore spot.”

Ethrienne took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to blow up at you. It’s just...” She sighed. “I’m still pissed at those idiots spreading rumors about me and Vindiatrix, all right?”

“Tongue Waggers was—”

“Not them; it was some Internet troll who makes this clown show look like actual journalism.”

“Nobody believes those—”

“I know that!” she snapped, throwing her arms up in exasperation. Short and slender as she was, she seemed to loom over her literally statuesque colleague. She took a deep breath to calm down.

Crimson Crag wasn’t quite sure what to say. The first possibility that came to mind was that trying to make sense of it was a guy thing and reacting to it was a gal thing. It didn’t seem like a good idea to say that out loud. Instead, he said, “It’ll all blow over when something new comes along.”

“Yeah,” Ethrienne agreed after a long pause. “It’ll blow over... unless it turns out to be true.”

“You think it might be real? You just said yourself it’s a bunch of crap. I mean, I only watch it for laughs.” He watched her expression, trying to figure out what to make of it.

“All I know is that last time I worked with those two, I caught Shield Lass checking out my ass. Twice.” She held up a hand to forestall any contradiction. “Trust me on this. When you go out in public dressed in skintight spandex, you get to recognize when somebody is looking at you that way.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Crimson Crag replied dryly. “These abs and glutes are a little too rock-hard for the ladies. They probably don’t do anything for guys who swing that way, either.”

Ethrienne looked mortified, “Sorry—”

“Gotcha!” He grinned. She returned the smile. The surface thoughts that she couldn’t help picking up confirmed that he really was just joking, not lashing out angrily... unlike her. She sighed.

“It’s not important right now,” Ethrienne muttered. “You’re probably right that it’s just one of those things that will blow over. Maybe I was just imagining things.”

“Well, duh!” Crimson Crag replied. He thought about ribbing her for egotistically assuming that everybody wanted to get her into bed, then decided that he’d ruffled her feathers enough for today. “Villains try to jerk our chains all the time, and it never amounts to anything.” He moved to pick up the remote. She beat him to it, using her fingers rather than her powers this time, and turned the television back on.

Meghan Firrello appeared on the screen, a giddy grin on her face. “We have just learned that Vindiatrix and Shield Lass will be making a public statement on Friday. They have confirmed that they will be making a definitive statement about Baroness Blackleather’s video at that time, and have described the video and the pictures released online as, and I quote, ‘the tip of the iceberg’. We will, of course, be covering that story, bringing you the heroines’ statement and its implications. And now, good night, and tune in next time to see what’s setting tongues wagging!”

The teammates stared at the screen for a long moment. Finally, Crimson Crag broke the silence. “Then again, I could be wrong.”