Snow fell from the night sky, glistening in the soft light from the lampposts; flakes landed on the large Christmas wreaths hung under the glass bulbs. Stores along Main Street were decorated with their normal array of lights, tinsel, and other embellishments, but nothing stood out more than the former floral shop next to the Talon. It had been years since the run-down building had been used as anything other than a storage facility, but it had undergone a major renovation in the past three weeks.

The white wood trellis had been completely removed, exposing brick underneath. Light, silvery gray bricks replaced the broken red ones that had been there since the store first opened; the olive green trim had been covered with a fresh coat of lavender paint. Centered over the entrance was 'Picture Perfect' in large, white calligraphy letters, and below, in smaller letters, was 'Art by Linda Kent.' Simple strings of greenery with red ribbons and white lights framed the door, while the windows displayed a few canvas paintings; each consisted of a different Christmas scene in vivid details, but they all had one thing in common: LED lights situated under the canvas, giving an added touch of realism to each painting.

The interior had been completely gutted to the point where no one recognized it anymore. All the items that had once been stored there—or had been part of the original floral shop—had been either thrown away, donated to charity, or sold to the antique store down the street. The floor had been replaced with light maple wood, and the walls and ceiling had been painted a stark white. Matching track lights hung from the ceiling, shining on different paintings hung up on the walls and a few sculptures that had been strategically placed around the gallery; a couple of hardwood benches matching the floor were centered in the middle of the space, placed to allow a person sit and view any of the artworks from their location. Pushed again one wall near the back was a long, old-fashioned butcher block table that had been painted glossy white; arranged on top were displays and racks of handmade earrings, necklaces, and bracelets. A glossy white, waist-high counter stood near the back, with 'Picture Perfect' and 'Art by Linda Kent' on the front in black calligraphy letters completed the interior design.

Linda stood off to one side, leaning slightly against the wall, holding a plastic cup filled with holiday punch. She wore a long, scarlet cable-knit sweater, black leggings, brown riding-style boots, and a Christmasy tartan scarf; her hair had been swept back and held in place with a large rhinestone snowflake hairclip, showing off a pair of clip-on pearl earrings. She watched the crowd of people—consisting of her family and friends—mingling around the gallery, laughing and enjoying each other's company as soft Christmas music played from ceiling speakers, but Linda didn't feel any pressing need to join in the festivities at the moment.

"It's not much of a party if the hostess isn't joining in."

Linda glanced over as Alfred walked over, carrying a tray with empty punch cups on it. "Technically, I'm the guest of honor," she replied, smiling half-heartedly.

"Either way, you don't seem to be enjoying yourself," Alfred replied as he set the tray on the counter.

"It's not that," Linda replied. "I just…," she sighed and shrugged, "I don't know."

"Does this have anything to do with a certain someone being absent?" Alfred suggested.

Linda raised an eyebrow. "Who talked and how much did they tell you?" she asked.

"No one, Miss Kent," Alfred replied honestly. "I was just under the assumption that—as one of your friends—Mister Olsen would have been invited to this party, but I have yet to see him. One could assume he wasn't invited, but judging by the expression on your face, he was and has chosen not to attend."

Linda stiffened a little and blinked back tears. "If Jimmy didn't want to come," she replied, trying to sound composed, "then that's his choice." It had been three weeks since she had last seen or spoken to him, but Linda had been hoping that he would've at least wanted to come to the party and see the gallery before it opened to the public.

"Linda?"

The two looked over as Dick Malverne cautiously approached, looking concerned. He wore an crisp, ice blue suit and matching tie; his hair had been slicked back, and he carried a small wrapped box.

"Well, I have my duties to attend to," Alfred replied, picking up his tray. He nodded to the teenagers before excusing himself and heading into the back room.

"Hey, Dick," Linda replied, smiling as best she could. She hadn't really had a chance to talk to him—or anyone else—since she had holed herself up in the corner, but she needed something to take her mind off Jimmy; she took a deep breath and around. "So, what do you think?"

"I think this place is awesome," Dick replied, smiling.

"You really think so?" Linda asked, relaxing a little.

Dick nodded. "Of course," he answered. "I mean, you're not only doing something you enjoy and you're good at, but you've actually turned it into your own business."

"Well, I did have a little help in that department," Linda said, smiling as she completely relaxed.

"True," Dick replied, "but an artist is only as good as their talent—and no amount of money can change that." He gave her his sincerest smile.

Linda smiled, feeling her cheeks growing warm. "Thank you," she replied sincerely.

"Although, I do have to ask about that," Dick said, pointing to a spot on the ceiling over the counter; Linda glanced to where Dick had indicated and slowly grinned.

Hanging down from was a column of six glass spheres of different sizes and colors, separated by different numbers of smaller clear glass spheres; attached at the bottom was a large glass sphere painting a deep, fiery orange-red.

"What about it?" Linda asked.

"What is it?" Dick replied.

In truth, Linda had designed it to be a 'map' of the Rao star system—the large red sphere at the bottom represented Rao, the six colored spheres represented the different planets—including Krypton—in order from inner to outer, and each clear sphere represented a certain Kryptonian measure of distance—but she knew she couldn't tell that to Dick.

"It's just something that reminds me of alignment," Linda replied, which wasn't technically a lie. "It keeps me focused, that's all."

Dick tilted his head, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to see it from Linda's perspective; after a few seconds, he pursed his lips and shook his head. "I don't see it," he replied, "but that's why you're the artist. And, speaking of which," he held up the package in his hands, "Merry Christmas."

"So, is this the mysterious gift everyone kept teasing you about at school today?" Linda asked as she took the offered gift and carefully unwrapped it.

"It's nothing special," Dick replied, shrugging, as he watched Linda lift the top off the small box and peer inside; he smiled a little more as she gasped softly. "So, do you like it?"

Linda stared into the box in awe. Nestled securely in a piece of memory foam was a small, gold brooch in the shape of an artist palette with three gold paintbrushes attached to it; small, faceted gemstones of various colors had been set at the tips of the brushes and on the palette, giving the appearance of different colors of paint.

"Oh, Dick, it's beautiful," she replied softly.

"You really think so?" Dick asked hopefully.

"Of course," Linda replied, smiling, as she reached inside; she stopped suddenly as she noticed the small, glistening green gemstone on the palette, her smile quickly fading.

"What's wrong?" Dick asked, noticing her quick change of expression; he mentally kicked himself. "You hate it, don't you?"

"No," Linda said quickly. She didn't feel sick or anything—not even a twinge—since it was a very small stone, but Linda had had enough experience with kryptonite over the past few months to be extra cautious about any green jewels. She saw Dick's disappointed expression, and the young girl racked her brain, trying to come up with some kind of excuse. "I, uh, just…uh, was startled by all the, different, uh, stones; I've never seen them before. Could you tell me what they are?" Dick raised an eyebrow, but Linda just shrugged, smiling sheepishly; she was definitely going to have to come up with better excuses.

"Well," Dick replied slowly, "the jeweler who sold it to me said they're different varieties of aquamarine, sapphire, amethyst, and citrine."

"So, no meteor rocks or anything like that?" Linda asked casually.

"For what I paid for it, I hope not," Dick replied. He stiffened, then winced and sighed. "And you weren't supposed to know that."

Linda's expression softened. "I won't say anything," she replied. She glanced down at the brooch, staring at it for a few seconds before she came to the conclusion that it was harmless; she looked up at Dick, smiling. "Will you put it on for me?"

Dick looked a little surprised, then he slowly glanced over his shoulder at the crowd. He briefly saw everyone watching them before they quickly glanced away, trying to appear interested in other things; Clark and Jonathan stared at him for a couple more seconds before Martha gently elbowed her men and they quickly adverted their gaze. Dick swallowed nervously before slowly looking back at Linda. "You sure that's a wise idea?" he asked.

"They won't kill you," Linda reassured him, smiling. "Not here, anyway; too many witnesses." Dick blanched, and Linda chuckled. "Dick, I'm kidding. You'll be fine, I promise."

Dick didn't look convinced, but he sighed and removed the brooch from the box. He tried not to look nervous as his fingers fumbled a bit with the jewelry, but he managed to pin it securely on the left side of Linda's sweater below her collarbone; he stepped back and glanced down at it, proud that he hadn't poked either of them in the process.

"So, how does it look?" Linda asked hopefully.

Dick opened his mouth as he met her gaze, and he suddenly forgot what he was going to say as he stared at her. After a few seconds, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he smiled. "Wonderful," he said.

Linda smiled and kissed his cheek. "Thank you," she replied. As she pulled back, their eyes met, and they just stared at each other for a few seconds before Linda cleared her throat nervously and took a step back, tucking some strands of hair behind her ears as her cheeks turned pink.

"Well, it looks like someone's in a better mood."

The two looked over as Mattie walked over with Andy, Buzz, Cutter, Wally, Gar, and Dick Grayson close behind; all were dressed in stylish outfits and appeared to be having a really good time—and Gar's cheeks bulged as he chewed on carrot sticks.

"Sorry, guys," Linda replied, looking sheepish. "I know I haven't exactly been the best person to be around the past few weeks."

"Well, considering all you've had on your plate," Dick Grayson said, "it's understandable."

Linda had finally told both Dick and Gar everything that had happened over the past month—the visions and dreams, the Kryptonian artifact from Dr. Swann, the cave, getting shot, the true reason for her contract with Bruce and Oliver, and even her fight with Jimmy; the young girl smiled gratefully at the Gothamite. "I know," she replied, "but I'm still sorry."

"Okay, enough of the mush," Andy replied, amused. "We got more important things to discuss."

"Such as?" Linda asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Such as how you got all this stuff done so quickly," Andy replied as she made her way over to the jewelry display with Mattie close behind; the two admired the various pieces as the rest of the gang followed.

"It's not that hard, really," Linda replied, folding her arms as she stood back with the guys.

"And having superspeed doesn't hurt either," Gar whispered very softly in Linda's ear; the young girl hid a grin but said nothing.

"So, do your friends get a discount?" Mattie asked as she picked up a pair of large, hooped earrings threaded with red, yellow, and orange stones; Andy admired a silver bracelet accented with recycled purple glass beads.

"How about for free?" Linda suggested. Mattie and Andy looked over, surprised.

"I was just kidding," Mattie replied.

"I know," Linda said, "but I'm not."

"Are you sure?" Andy asked.

Linda nodded. "You get a piece of free jewelry, and I get free advertisement when you wear it and people ask where you got it from. It's a win-win for all of us."

"And your bosses won't mind?" Buzz asked, nodding at the two businessmen talking with the Kents.

Linda shook her head. "They may be my bosses," she said, "and they are financially responsible for this place, but one of the stipulations in my contract was that I be allowed to make a lot of the decisions on my own without them interfering too much."

"Smart and savvy," Cutter replied, smiling. "I think someone's finally found her niche."

Linda smiled and shrugged slightly but kept quiet; movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she glanced over at the entrance to the backroom. Instead of seeing Alfred coming out with a tray full of filled glasses, her smile faded when she saw Jimmy standing in the doorway. He wore a black button-down shirt, slacks, and matching tie, his hair stylishly spiked. He had his camera bag slung over one shoulder, and he gripped his camera tightly as he stared right at Linda, his features expressionless.

"Hey, Linda, what do you think of this?" Mattie asked as she held up an intricately-beaded necklace. "Linda?" She looked over and saw Linda staring toward the back room; she and the rest of the group looked over and saw Jimmy standing in the doorway. "Oh." Jimmy finally noticed the rest of Linda's friends were staring at him; he suddenly turned and disappeared into the backroom.

"I'll be right back," Linda said before she brushed past her friends and headed after the young photographer.

(End of Chapter 1)