Jon sat on the roof of the tallest building in town, an office tower that housed some of the most successful businesses in the region, and watched the sun slowly set. The wind was blowing from the west, which made his cape flap behind him, making him feel strong, powerful. Without his new powers, Jon would have never been able to experience things like this. Power Girl's abilities were opening a whole new world for him.
The problem was, it was opening a whole lot more that he hadn't counted on.
Sure, Jon was super strong, he could fly, and he was invulnerable, but he wasn't invulnerable to the comments people were making about him.
"Why are you cross-dressing?" An older man had asked after Jon pulled him out of a burning building.
"Should you have tits in there?" A frat boy had said, pointing at Jon's chest, after Jon had stopped a pair of muggers.
"You look silly," a little girl had commented, when Jon handed her the kitten out of the tall elm tree in front of her house, "you're not dressed like a boy at all!"
"What, are you some kind of super-fag?" was the worst one, from a boy Jon knew at school, after Jon had saved him from a giant mutant crocodile. The words had hurt more deeply than any bullet could.
There was an easy solution, of course. Jon could just change his clothes, dress like a male, even tell people to call him Jon instead of Kara. The problem was that when he adopted Power Girl's powers, he took more from her persona than abilities. It seemed that he absorbed some of her personality as well.
Again, staring into the sunset, Jon attempted to picture himself wearing clothes he would have worn before the wish. An involuntary shudder hit his body. The picture disgusted him. Power Girl, one of Jon's favourite comic book characters, was not only known for her superpowers, but for her hot, sexy clothes. There was barely a panel in the publications that had her not looking stylish, alluring, flirty, and sexual. She was, as he knew from his many late-night-readings, a teenage boy's visual fantasy.
That style that Jon had admired so often now seemed to be part of his DNA. Part of Jon wanted desperately to fly home and put on a pair of jeans and a hockey jersey, but a bigger part, a much more powerful part, would only allow it if the jeans were tight, low cut, and the jersey had a plunging neckline, showing off as much of his body as possible.
Not that Jon wanted to be a woman, far from it. In many ways he was exactly the person he was pre-wish. He was still a stereotypical heterosexual male, enjoying video games, pizza, action movies. Jon had enjoyed the feeling of holding the women he'd saved in his arms over and over again, the warmth of their skin, the scent of their shampoo, as any lust-filled teenager would. He'd even used his x-ray vision to check them out under their clothes a couple times.
The only difference was that after he was done lusting after the women, he would briefly consider their outfits, wondered where they had obtained items he now liked, imagined them against his skin.
Closing his eyes, Jon shook his head and leaned back, feeling the breeze in the chest-hole of his costume. He smiled. Sure, his life was far more complicated, but with everything he'd gained, he wasn't sure he'd change a thing.
