Warning to reader, I'm American-British, so my characters all decided to be American-British. That means I might call a garbage a 'rubbish bin' or a 'trash can' in the span of two paragraphs and not even notice. At least I'm better than my Hispanic friend who can start a sentence in English and end in incomprehensible, heavily accented, Spanish.

So... who wants a Merlin/Arthur superhero story?

...

It all began when Merlin just couldn't take it anymore.

...

Merlin's grin almost split his face in half. "Money!" He cried out, grabbing Hunith's arm. Ignoring her cross face and her tense posture, Merlin laughed out loud. "Look at it!" He grabbed a fistful of bills from the ground and shoved them into his mother's shocked hands. "We're rich!" He shouted, every syllable dripping with glee, "Rich! We are rich!"

"I love that you're so happy," Hunith said in quiet monotone. She dropped the money from her hands as if the bills were poison.

Merlin sighed with contentment. He fell back, landing on the ground gently, and lifted a gold bar to his face like a pillow. "Anything we want," he sighed.

Hunith stepped over to him. Her arms crossed, her lips tight, she was the very figure of an avenging angel; but all that Merlin could see as he looked up at her were Salvation Army clothes and tired eyes. "Merlin," she said.

"Anything we want," Merlin repeated, "anything. You never have to work again."

Hunith's worn shoes lightly kicked Merlin's head. "Put it back," she ordered softly.

Merlin sat up. "Mother," he protested.

"Back!" Hunith demanded, "Every last penny! Back where it was!" Her chest heaving, she gestured to the abundant wealth now squandered about their small living room. "What do we need this for?"

"Food!" Merlin shouted, indignant, "The gas bill! Electricity!"

"How MUCH MONEY DID YOU STEAL?" Hunith shouted. Merlin's eyes widened slightly, and he didn't reply. "How much?" Hunith's words were laced with venom, "How much money did you, the son I raised to be better than this, steal?"

"A few..." Merlin struggled to say.

"Million?" Hunith finished. Merlin gave her a slight nod. Hunith closed her eyes. "This goes back," she announced, turning away.

"No," Merlin said softly. He stood up to his feet, and then louder repeated, "No!"

Hunith snapped to face him. "'No'?" She repeated. "No?"

"You can't rob a bank and take the money back an hour later!" Merlin reminded her. "Mother, please," he grabbed her arm, "we can go on vacations, we don't have to work,I can go to a real school, you can go to a spa, you can quit your job at... at," the word was painful to say, "Hooters. Alright? Come on!" He tugged on her arm.

"Do you realize how you're dressed?" Hunith asked pointedly.

Merlin glanced for a moment down at his clothes. "I took off the mask," he tried. He was wearing knee-high black leather combat boots, skin-tight black leather, elbow reaching leather gloves and a long, black cape that fell around his shoulders to his ankles; Merlin liked it.

Hunith broke his grip on her arms. "You're dressed like a villain," she said sadly.

"I robbed a bank, I am a villain." Merlin tried to touch her hand for reassurance, but Hunith recoiled at the touch of the long leather gloves.

"You could have tried to get into the school the next year," Hunith told him, "we could have saved enough tuition."

Merlin smirked. "We have enough tuition money now," he reminded her. Hunith glared. "I'll be a supervillain," Merlin told her, trying for some acceptance, "the very best. You can be proud." And when she didn't reply, he added, "Proud and rich. We can't forget rich."

"We don't need money," Hunith informed him.

"The bills on the counter say otherwise," Merlin pointed out.

Hunith sighed. Dejected, she sat down on the couch, dislodging a large stack of bills as she did so. "Merlin, what are we going to do? If the police find us, if Ultraman finds us..."

"I just robbed a bank," Merlin tried to smile, "We'll lay low now. I'll go to the Hero school next year, I'll be a hero."

Hunith dropped her head in her hands. "Pay for Hero University with stolen money?" She mumbled.

"I know it's not ideal," Merlin sat down on the couch next to her, "but I... I thought... I mean, I have these incredible abilities, why can't I use them for us?"

"We're just two people," Hunith reminded him, "there are millions in Metropolis, billions in the world, what gives me and you the right to steal? Merlin, you can't do this, you can't become this."

"We deserved our lucky break, I have powers, Mother, and I've never been able to be trained because we can't afford it, and for years we've struggled just to keep this horrible apartment!" Merlin sat up, suddenly angry, and kicked the wall. Then, off course, his foot hurt and he hopped around for several minutes on one foot until he eventually lost his balance because combat boots really weren't the easiest things to balance in and he fell on the ground.

Hunith laughed at him, and Merlin smiled up at her.

"I felt alive," he told her, awe in his voice, "for the first time I could just, use all of my powers. I made chaos and it felt great."

Hunith's laugher faded, but she looked thoughtfully at Merlin. "No one dies," she said sternly.

"Of course," Merlin nodded.

In despair, Hunith glanced around their apartment. "How much more money do you want?" She sighed.

Merlin's eyes shone gold with excitement. "We start with a huge penthouse, in one of those nice apartment buildings, and I figure that in about ten years we'll run out of all this money, but with eating and buying clothes, fancy clothes, and furniture and paintings and air conditioners and everything and anything there is, we'll be done in a week."

Hunith's eyes widened. "A week? How are we going to spend millions in a week?"

"Donations! We'll get the name Emrys in every museum and charity event in the world!" Merlin jumped up, landing on the soles of his combat boots, and his cape swished behind him as if it was meant to be there. "So I'll just have to get us some more money!"

"More?" Hunith said, pale-faced.

...

Merlin's mask was porcelain, like a doll, and was made to fit perfectly on his face, covering everything except for his eyes. Attatched to it was a wig, a brilliant wig in his mind, with wild, exciting, long, black and red hair. Pads on the shoulders made him look taller, padding on the clothing made him look fit. Little things made the perfect disguise. "I'm leaving for work!" He announced, loving the way his voice echoed in the new penthouse.

Hunith leaned against the door to her bedroom. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair seem locked into a bedhead, and she gripped a silk robe around her body with white knuckles. "We could be careful," she whispered, "we don't need any more money."

"Once more," Merlin said, not meaning the words, "just a bit more and we'll be fine."

"I'll watch you on the telly," Hunith promised, her hands shaking.

Merlin smiled, ignoring her worried demeanor. "I'll be the supervillain robbing the Safety Bank," he announced flippantly.

...

Merlin landed in front of the bank, enjoying the look of shock on people's faces as they saw him. His hands tingled with power, and the huge, marble doors of Safety bank opened for him.

The lobby had fancy chairs, the roof was stories high, there were seventeen tellers working, and about a hundred people were inside the room and it wasn't even crowded. They all stopped to stare.

"Don't worry," Merlin held up his hands as if to assure, "I'm just here to rob the place."

He stepped forward, reaching a hand toward the tellers, and instantly the glass shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. Several people screamed, but no one was moving. No one except Merlin. Gleefully, he hopped forward.

An artistic, expensive looking couch caught his eyes. "Gotta get me one of those!" Merlin announced happily. Someone, Merlin didn't know who, snorted. Merlin's eyes flashed golden. "Alright," he growled, "down to business." He lept forward and landed in front of a terrified, cringing, pimply bank teller. "Where are the keys to your vaults?"

When the man didn't answer, Merlin grabbed his tie, lifting him up. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Merlin noticed that the man was wearing a bow tie and therefore had excellent taste; that wasn't important. "WHERE?" He shouted, shaking the teller.

"Wh... who are you?" The teller asked, eyes huge.

"Who am I?" Merlin raised the teller over his head, "I asked you a question."

"But... I've never seen you before," the teller whimpered, but bravely continued, "most of the villains are in jail right now, and you're not one of the ones I recall."

"I'm Magic," Merlin invented the name on the spot. "Now," he reached his hand down and a piece of glass flew into it. He raised the glass to the teller's neck, threatening him, "Give me the keys NOW!" Under his mask and cloak, Merlin cringed.

"I... I..." the bank teller stuttered.

"LET the CITIZEN down immediately!" A new voice announced.

Merlin turned, not relenting his grip on the bank teller. The first thing he noticed was the camera man filming in the enterance of the bank and he thought, My mother is watching this. The next thing he realized was Ultraman's shining golden figure in the doorway. Merlin knew immediately that he should be scared.

"RELEASE THE MAN!" Ultraman ordered, his hands on his hips, "Or I shall be FORCED to defeat you!"

"I grew up listening to stories about you on the news," Merlin informed him as a reply, surprising himself by the venom in his voice, "I always wanted to be a hero, just like you. See how well it turned out?" Merlin drew the bank teller closer, holding him like a hostage.

The teller whimpered.

"Evil never triumphs." Ultraman's famous line was not impressive when delivered in person. Ultraman's golden outfit shone in the light, but when he stepped into the bank the shadow's cast long, dark lines over it until even the 'U' on his chest was unrecognizable. Even with his many years in the business, he had never slowed down, never been defeated, and never, ever, let a villain get away. He was the king of all the superheroes, whereas this was Merlin's second day on the job.

Ultraman took a step forward, and Merlin took three long steps back. "I know exactly what you are, I've seen hundreds of you," Ultraman told him, "you're a child, a scared child, who thinks you can make it in this dangerous game. This is your warning, back out now while you have a chance."

Okay, magic powers, this is your chance, teleport me out of here. Merlin looked carefully at Ultraman, stalling, he asked, "I'm too far in, I can't get out, can I?" I know no one has ever been able to teleport, but now would be a really good time for a new power, don't you think? Merlin's magic held out, he could feel it, tingling under his fear, but it refused to be coaxed into action.

"Everyone can receive redemption," Ultraman announced.

Merlin, his eyes drifting to the camera, could see a reporter whispering words into a microphone. What was his mother doing right now as she watched Ultraman prepared to beat the snot out of her son? Merlin thought instantly of his mother sitting in her old rocking chair, knitting a hat, making a comment to one of her friends about Merlin's abhorrent hair, and he laughed aloud.

Confused, even Ultraman froze.

And Merlin could feel his magic surging back up to him again. "Oh, silly little hero!" He announced dramatically, the happiness swelling up inside him alond with his magic. "You have no idea what is in store for you at the hands of the Magic Man!"

"I thought it was just 'Magic'," the teller whispered.

"Shut up," Merlin dropped the teller to the ground.

Ultraman cracked his knucked. "I suppose I'll have to bring you in the hard way," he growled.

"Please," Merlin replied, "you're too old, and frankly, not my type."

Ultraman froze, not used to this sort of banter.

"I prefer, men much younger, with the soft, underspoken muscles, and most likely brown hair," Merlin continued, "you're too over-the-top, and rather corny."

Ultraman's eyes narrowed.

Merlin gulped. It was him and his magic against the unbeatable hero, nothing could go wrong.

Ultraman surged forward, pulling his fist back. Merlin let out a rather undignified shout of surprise, and, as it was the best solution, ran.

...

Ultraman's limp body lay under the bricks.

"Oh," Merlin gasped in shock, bringing his hands up to his mouth, "my, God." He tiptoed over to Ultraman and lightly kicked him in the head with his dust covered combat boot. Ultraman groaned, and Merlin sighed in gratitude. "Thank God," Merlin told the unconscious formerly-undefeated hero, "if you were dead my mother would have killed me."

Under the bank, in one of the vaults, no one was there to witness Merlin's cheap triumph. The blow Merlin had given to Ultraman's head had been sheer beginner's luck and that was obvious, he had a bleeding lip, and more bruises than he could count to attest to his abysmal hand-to-hand combat skills; the magic causing Ultraman to trip had not actually been meant to be there, and the wall which Ultraman broke with the sheer force of a momentarily magically-made-unprotected head had been entirely the architect of the bank's fault.

"Well," Merlin placed his hands on his hips. "Looks like I win." There was just no way this had just happened, Merlin's stupid magic, not enough of a power to get him a scholarship to Hero U, could not have just taken down Ultraman. But Ultraman was on the floor, unresponsive, so Merlin did the three things everyone would do.

First, he took off Ultraman's mask.

And, second, when the shock wore off, Merlin walked into the vault and came out carrying as much money as he could stuff in his outfit and carry in this hands.

Third, he let the camera see him coming out of the bank.

...

Hunith counted the money, and Merlin watched her happily out of the corner of his eye. Lounged out on their couch, his combat boots and mask laid carelessly on the floor, he rested his aching body.

"I beat Ultraman," Merlin sang.

"Congratulations," Hunith said dully, "you've obstructed justice."

Merlin grinned. "It feels wonderful," he stretched out, his muscles crying with every movement.

...

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