Nico took a look at herself in the mirror, adjusting her low-rider jeans on her hips.
Not too bad, she thought, from the front, anyway...
She started to turn to the side, taking a look at herself from a three-quarters view.
Aaaaaand, Houston, we have a problem.
It wasn't really noticeable head-on, but when she turned, there it was, as clear as day. Nico was getting a bit of a pot.
She smoothed the fabric of her T-shirt over the bulge, frowning as the black-and-red checkerboard pattern distorted as it pulled tight over her middle.
She huffed in disgust, blowing a stray lock of dark hair away from her face. It's my own fault. I've been totally snacked out the past few weeks. And it's not like I didn't notice my wardrobe getting tight.
But that hadn't been a big deal. She'd always been thin; filling out a little wasn't so bad. And she'd been under so much stress lately -- guiding the group, keeping them safe from villains, and well-meaning "heroes" who would be happy to toss them into foster homes, and, oh yeah, each other, which wasn't easy when everyone was arguing with each other and you were fighting off an attraction to more than one of them. She needed a little therapy chocolate--or sometimes a lot of therapy chocolate--just to cope.
Then there was the comfort food. She had to admit, she'd been hitting the comfort food pretty hard. And there was all that cheap candy Chase had lugged back after Halloween. Like they needed candy, when Gert was already overweight and Karolina freaked out if she gained half a pound and Molly was a hyperactive fit waiting to happen. It wasn't that Nico had wanted to stuff herself with all that sugar, but somebody had to get rid of it. To keep the peace. And, as usual, that someone was Nico.
And here's what I get for all my trouble, she sighed, patting her muffiny middle. She needed to hit the gym, bad. It was too bad she didn't have one of those super quick metabolisms, the way many of the more active supers had. Unfortunately, her parents' only genetic bequest had been a slight tendency towards lactose intolerance and the ability to command the Staff of One.
Hmm...
The Staff could do some pretty amazing things. Maybe it could make her thin--no, she quickly amended, it was better to fix the problem at the source. Maybe it could change her metabolism so she wouldn't have to worry about getting fat no matter how much she ate.
She quickly slashed her palm--it was getting scary how quickly and unflinchingly she could do that now--and felt the familiar power well within her. "When blood is shed," she intoned, "let the Staff of One emerge."
It slipped free from inside her easily enough--plenty of room in there, after all, she thought glumly--and she felt the burgeoning magical forces lapping against her hand.
"Hey, Nico, you about done in there?" Chase called.
"I--I'll be out in a second!" Nico sputtered. "Hold on, okay?"
"Well, we're waiting!"
"Well," she shot back through the door, "sometimes it takes girls a little longer because we're not throwing on the first stinky rag we pick up off the floor!"
"'We' meant all of us, fashion plate," she heard Gert say. "Me and my stinky rags want to get to Albertson's before someone else buys all the good sushi."
See? They don't even respect your leadership, said her self-doubt. It was a nasty, knawing little voice. And who could ask for respect for such a little porker, anyway?
Shut up, she told the voice curtly, and tapped the Staff against her stomach. "Skinny genes."
Instantly she felt her pants, which weren't exactly loose to begin with, contract by at least two sizes. It was like a sudden and unexpected hug from the captain of the football team, which Nico wouldn't have minded under normal circumstances but now was not the time.
"Genes! G-E-N-E-S!" she hissed at the Staff. "I swear, sometimes I think you're trying to--"
The door opened a crack. "Nico? Are you all right?" Karolina asked with concern, peeking through the crack.
"I--sure! I'm fine! All ready to go!" Nico stammered. She glanced down at herself. Oh, God. Muffin city. There's no way she's not noticing this mess.
It was too late now, though. She'd just have to go shopping with everyone and hope she didn't split her pants on the way.
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