a/n: This little short was inspired by fanart by Dating Wally on Deviant Art. It was called Feathers and I loved it so much I had to write something at least loosely based on it. If you decide to look that up, I also recommend her "where does it hurt?" or some title similar.

I am not Dating Wally nor do I own any DC characters or places.

World setting is Alternate Universe.

Characters: Flash, Shayera, Batman

Not slash, but could be taken as pre-slash if you are of a mind.

A wary spy hastens on:

the lonely path it's chosen way.

Moon knows that ere the break of dawn

Need compels it slip away.

Vainly, Sol reaches for Night's fawn

(Realizing that they dare not play)

For Moon so faint and ghostly wan

Would sicken in the light of day.

"You have wings."

"You don't. And you're dressed funny."

"One can talk."

"Yep, one sure can."

The grinning buffoon actually had the audacity to look proud of that.

Batman scowled in annoyance. A light breeze dancing along the skyscraper rooftop sent his cape flutter dramatically behind him; steam emitted from the same rooftop's various vents surrounded his form and added a touch of surrealism to the scene. The odd being the Dark Knight was contesting with showed no sign of being impressed by any of this, however. In fact, he was openly smirking as if he knew he'd gained a point in their undeclared game of...whatever this was. Batman's peripheral vision caught Shayera's hand slapping over her face as the alien warrior was shaking her head. Bruce Wayne wished he had the luxury so expressing his frustration, but he was currently wearing the cape and cowl: Batman was always cool, always mysterious; never, ever, out of sorts. Showing his annoyance via anything more than a silent frown or a bit more gravel in his tone was not an option for one whose job description demanded that fear be stricken into the hearts of criminals.

Not that the winged pair were criminals as far as he could yet determine.

If only smug aliens were as easy to deal with as a your average Gotham bottom feeding scumbag.

"I meant you are not dressed in normal Earth fashion any more than I am," he added with a sneer. It was true enough: the stranger's body was clad in durable-looking scarlet one-piece, but that was scant defeat for anyone's eyes since (save for a pair of golden boots and a stylized bird-face mask) the outfit was skin tight. What was odd was that he didn't hold an obvious weapon. Hol had her mace. As he understood her culture, they were a race of warriors. Shouldn't a soldier carry a weapon?

Shayera rolled her eyes at Batman. "Of course he's got wings; he's my second cousin twice removed. Make that forcibly removed." She ignored the flash of irritation sent her way by the stranger, swinging an arm between the male and The Dark Knight in parody of a formal introduction. "Batman, meet Wiellace Weshk, the family's black sheep. Wiellace, this is Batman, the League's most intelligent human...and their greatest sourpuss." She smirked at the vigilante, daring him to contradict her.

Yes...smug aliens were not easy to deal with.

Batman merely grunted at her slur, eyes never drifting from where they were studying the young man -Thanagarian- standing rather defensively before him as he whispered some inquiry to Hol. She whispered back an answer...something that made the stranger glare at her.

"I am not some ruminant Earth creature!" he hotly declared.

"It's an Earth expression. It means you're not normal."

"You mean special?" Weshk asked, and just like that his smile was back.

"If you want."

"Okay...yeah. I want."

Batman noted their repartee in silence. They seemed to share a camaraderie...albeit a strained one.

The male Thanagarian bore little resemblance to Shayera despite that they both sported red hair and green eyes. The youth's eyes flickered with hints of olive as well as forest green, giving them an added dimension. His hair was bright with orange highlights whenever the sunlight hit it; very fine, yet thicker than was usual for human redheads with a choppiness to its length that made Batman suspect an amateur had done his last hair cut; yet it seemed to only add another layer of attractiveness to the pale, lightly freckled face. What was truly striking, though, were the wings: they were reddish orange like his hair, but sections of the flight feathers were boldly trimmed in cadmium yellow. The effect was that of jagged bands of lighting bolts running along the edges. It all struck Wayne as being very flamboyant; a personality quirk Hol had never shown. Weshk was also very slim, possibly weighing less than Hol did despite his greater height and seemed to be younger both in age and mentality.

The Thanagarians stared at him with their alien eyes. The boy looked apprehensive. Hol was trying to appear nonchalant. They were waiting for him to say something...so he did.

"Your wings are shaped differently."

The male opened his mouth. Whatever he was going to say in return was forestalled by Hol.

"Wiellace, here, is the last of a very small scion of the Thanagarian bloodlines renowned for their swiftness," Shayera explained to Batman. She said this while inspecting her fingernails, but Batman could tell she was intently watching for his reaction. Beside her, the cousin's smile had returned full force, obviously pleased by her comment about his specialty. "We call him Flash because of-"

"My speed." Wiellace boldly interjected. "I'm really fast."

"His coloring is so..."

"I'm quicker than anyone!" Weshk happily exclaimed. "Won all the tournaments, hands down, no contest."

"...and a flagrant ego with a mouth to match though no one can figure out why, considering."

Batman caught the last word. "Considering what?"

"The pity," Shayera drawled out, keeping her eyes on Weshk, "that his fighting skills like his muscles are nowhere near as developed as his sense of self-importance."

"Fastest one alive in the air and on the ground!" the male boasted despite the blush that was coloring his head and neck. With an affronted air, he faced Shayera. "So maybe I can't wield a sword like some warrior. I can still hit hard enough when I'm really flying, Shay, and..." Wiellace shrugged as if his fighting prowess was of little importance. "Anyway, despite what they say I can handle myself just fine."

"Sure you can."

Weshk gave her a sly look. "Wanna race?"

"No, and don't change the subject."

"But I do want to race." The statement came out as a childish whine.

Shayera growled, "I didn't consent to taking you in just so we could waste time flying about for no good reason. Some of us don't have a lot of free time for games."

The youth visibly deflated at her ire, then seemed to perk up. "Then can we go eat something? I'm starving." He gripped the center of his torso for emphasis. "Really starving."

"Yeah, yeah, what else is new? Excuse us, Batman while I deal with this?"" Shayera gave her cousin a shove on the shoulder, making him stumble a step forward. C'mon, Flashy Feathers, let's see if some human grub can't satisfy that pit you call a stomach." She led him to the roof edge where they glided to street level, giving Bruce a different angle to see those striking wings.

Flashy Feathers, indeed. He looks more like a tropical parrot next to her.

Batman watched them head towards the nearest food vendor whom Shayera hailed to purchase their lunch; he made quick adjustment to his audio amplifier. The vendor looked intimidated by their approach (little surprise there, the winged and oddly-clad duo did make for rather a spectacle even in Gotham.) The man cringed and said a curse word as Shayera loudly demanded for two wieners with the works, but a smile and some compliments on the man's attire and food stand from the cousin seemed to calm the seller enough. At least he was able to coordinate the assembly of a pair of hot dogs without too much trembling.

That is until the vendor made the mistake of trying to touch Weshk's wingtip while the Thanagarian was intent on turning squeezable condiment bottles into miniature volcanoes. The vendor received an earful from an irate Hol that Batman didn't need an aid to catch. She snarled at him before adding another scoop of relish onto the sausages. She then grabbed the mustard and ketchup bottles from Weshk before he could draw a goopy happy face on her back.

Wiellace ate both of of the hot dogs before she'd finished placing the containers back in their stands. Without a word, Shayera punched Weshk in the arm. He smiled disarmingly and offered an apology. She rolled her eyes and purchased a third hotdog...at a non-negotiable 50% discount seeing as the seller owed them that "for molesting her relative." She using her wings as shields to keep the hot dog from also being purloined by said blood relation.

It was obvious to Bruce Wayne that despite her abrasive words and behavior Shayera cared a great deal about her cousin. This was evident in that she let Wiellace 'steal' the last half of her food, something Batman knew Hol could have easily prevented if she'd truly been irked by his behavior.

"One of these days that metabolism of yours is going to quit and before you know it you'll be fatter than a pig," she scolded as they both alighted on the roof once more.

"Will not!" The male snickered as he licked at some of the ketchup that had smeared onto his palms, then looked confused. "What's a pig?"

I'd take a picture of you right now for show and tell, but I forgot my camera."

Weshk just seemed more confused by her sarcastic answer.

"Pigs are quadruped omnivores known for their appetite and sloppy eating habits." Batman supplied. "The moniker is also used in a derogatory sense to describe someone with the same attributes." He stared at Wiellace as the latter was still hunting down stray condiment spills on his skin.

"Oo...someone who likes big words." Wiellace grinned at him, licking a thumbclean. "Can they fly?"

"Only when the conditions are extreme." Shayera snorted at that.

"Are they fast?"

"Not particularly," Batman told him.

"Then I'm not one of them," Wiellace happily proclaimed, "because I can always fly and I'm fast!"

"You're more of a duckling anyway," Shayera snickered.

"What's that?"

Bruce swallowed his rising amusement. "An infant duck...a water bird that makes a lot of irritating noises."

"Anyway," Shayera eyed the both of them, her expression becoming serious, "the reason why I wanted to speak to you, Batman, was to get him some paperwork so that he isn't arrested for being an illegal alien."

Wiellace flinched at the word 'arrested'; a movement that didn't escape the Dark Knight's observant eyes.

"First, you'd better explain why he's on Earth to begin with."

Shayera and Wiellace exchanged glances: Shayera's wary, Weshk's scared. Bruce's interest was now thoroughly piqued. He waited.

"Wiellace is the last of his family because they refused to hand him and the rest of their youths over to the Thanagarian military for...testing," Shayera carefully explained. "Normally, the Weshk-ayen Thanagarians were exempt from military service because of their second-class status, but with the battles against the enemy going so badly... Refusal to aid the war effort carries the death..."

"They slaughtered them all," Weshk added, eyes haunted by grief. "Every one because they all refused to go. Invaded and just started killing. Biery tossed me into a storage bin for hiding before they reached our aviary...I saw them stab him and Jaie through..." He looked down. "When they pushed me before the commander I pretended to agree to train." He snorted derisively. "Like training would make me a warrior." Reaching up, he snagged off the Thanagarian helmet he wore and let it fall unhindered. "Hopped a stolen ship as soon as I could and came to Earth because..." he tilted his head towards Shayera "They gossipers said Shay was incarcerated here. It seemed..." he took a deep breath, eyes never straying from the ground. "Okay, I'm a coward. I didn't want to die and I didn't know what else to do."

"I'm not sending him back." Shayera growled at Batman. "So you can help me make him a legal citizen here or we both leave and make our own way...somewhere."

Batman considered the pair. Shayera looked like a mother eagle ready to defend her chick to the death. Weshk...was trembling with anxiety over what Batman would decide to do, all traces of joviality and bravado gone.

"The paperwork for a Wallace West should be ready by next week. I'll contact Hol then."

"My name..."

"A more normal name is less threatening to humans," Bruce shot back. He wasn't in the mood for arguments. "I'd recommend passing for fully human by amputating the wings as well..."

"Amputate?" Weshk blanched and had to be kept from falling to his knees by Hol who glared daggers at Batman.

"...but we'll have to make do."

The cousin smiled if somewhat hesitantly. "Uh...thanks?"

"Don't mention it." He turned to go...then stopped. "You were very brave to come here like you did."

"I was?" Weshk blinked.

"Yes."

Then he did leave, or rather, faded into the shadows for a moment in prelude to leaving.

He heard Shayera comment, "He likes you." Her relative did not seem so sure.

"He called me an infant."

"That's because you're childish."

"Oh, very cute." Weshk rolled his eyes then resumed his thoughtful stance. "Do you really think...he liked me?"

"Well, since he didn't kill you..."

.

Batman made his getaway to the sound of spluttering.

Did he like Weshk? It was too soon to tell; but, yes, he was interested. The League could always use a reserve member even if this one might only be practical as a backup relay should their regular communication relays ever go down during a mission. He didn't seem suitable for much else being far too bright physically while a bit 'dim' or at least naive mentally. Bruce idly wondered just how fast the Thanagarian was. Perhaps he would ask Nightwing to befriend him for awhile.

"Oracle?" He waited for the answering beep, signifying that she was listening. "I need some papers drawn up..."

a/n: Yeah, that's it. Not planning any more.