YIN AND YANG
A/N: This story is an AU story of my own imagining, which means in this story, Wally West/The Flash is 23, and Kara Zor-El/Karen Starr/ Power Girl is 22 ½. It will merge slightly with the JL/JLU animated cartoon series & what limited knowledge I have of DC Comics, & is inspired primarily by The Truth About Flash by Starrynyte04 – as that story, & this one, will feature Wally as the main protagonist. Also, if you haven't already viewed The Truth About Flash, go do it! It's an amazing story and definitely one of the best Justice League stories on .
:D
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DISCLAIMER: I own nothing about DC Comics, or its characters.
Leisurely floating miles above the Earth in a very accurate geosynchronous orbit, was the lustrous, silvery gargantuan beast that was known to the many superheroes in the Justice League, as The Watchtower. Surrounded on all sides by the vast, expansive view of murky oil, peppered with tiny (from their perspective) marbles of scorching hot plasma – The Watchtower sat vigilant, alert to any and all threats, be they terrestrial or extra-terrestrial in origin. Or rather, the heroes sat vigilant, constantly checking over dozens of video feeds, e-mails and other forms of communication to find any trace of criminal activity, whilst the normal human workers generally performed the most tedious of roles; cooks, electrician and doctors all walked briskly, many of them with warm, welcoming smiles on their faces. After all, it was usually considered by most humans, that going into space was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and that was excluding the other once in a lifetime opportunity. Working. With. Superheroes.
Unfortunately, The Watchtower was sparsely populated with its usual blessed beings, as a multitude of them were serving as either disaster support or somewhere else in the galaxy entirely, providing backup to the Green Lantern Corps. or helping their chosen city be protected. Feeling especially unfortunate today was none other than Power Girl, otherwise known as Kara or Karen, the most popular choice being Kara.
The reason for her displeasure?
She had to work with that flirtatious bastard of a speed demon, The Flash – she viewed him literally as a demon in her mind – after all, he did wear a full crimson bodysuit, tantalisingly close to being blood-red, with pointy, impish-like lightning bolts covering his puny human ears. Oh, how she wished to just teach him a lesson for torturing her constantly, just last week, he even went around stating how her "spandex leaves little to the imagination" & that she "should visit The Flashmobile for a good time". He even had the gall, the cheek to say she should "open a watermelon stand" with what "she's got on display"! Although, rather embarrassingly, she didn't understand what he had meant then, she learnt what he implied by his euphemism(s) from another hero, Huntress. Huntress was a loyal, reliable young woman, who, somehow, had a relationship (or was rumoured to have a relationship) with a faceless man, who she would later learn was The Question from the Huntress' many rambling stories about him & his "orange socks". She expressed clear distaste at his favourite music genre ("corporate pre-package pop kids like these days"), shown by the fact she often shouted at him to turn it down a notch, as most, no, all of the League could hear his ear-bleeding songs blaring throughout The Watchtower when he came to visit, which, luckily, was very rare as of late.
So, here she was, in the so-called "sub-basement" of The Watchtower, which made absolutely no sense whatsoever, since it was, in space. But, then again, it was Batman who drew up & labelled the schematics (with a little help of course, even though he's too proud to admit it) &, as everyone on the League knows: you, don't, mess, with, Batman. Unless, you're a certain raven haired Amazonian warrior princess beauty. Even The Bat knew when to back down from a fight. Currently, Kara and Wally were trying to fix one of the many, large and expensive reactors in The Watchtower with Wally ferrying metallic supplies back and forth at a dizzying speed akin to the Roadrunner … if it were on crack. Her job was to bend the metal components into the specified correct shape, check and double, triple, quadruple check if it fit properly (Bat's orders) and then finally weld the piece in place, using her heat vision in short precise, focused bursts. Lamentably, she had to bend over into the powered down reactor, giving Wally, (in his opinion), a resplendent view of her backside. He was the immature man whom she proclaimed to be her greatest enemy, although naturally she placed him after her true nemesis - finding customised bras that would fit her very well endowed frame – that was almost unbearable, going out shopping for 40GG/40H bra.
Right now, she could just sense his eyes roaming over her body, like a predator stalking its prey, waiting to pounce. It was almost as if she had that Spider-Sense like in that comic book she reads – The Amazing Spiderman, but she quickly put that thought aside, and emitted a low warning growl, almost unheard by The Flash. He quickly got the message, and speedily vacated the area. Chuckling at both her, rather terrible, puns, and at forcing Flash out of the same room she was in (Power Girl – 1/Flash – 0) she quickly sighed in frustration and set back to work mindlessly on such a cantankerous, monotonous assignment.
Wally, however, just recently extradited out of the reactor room, still couldn't get over the fact that she had growled at him. He was sure he was not hallucinating or dreaming, because, if he were, that animistic growl she let loose would have been accompanied by some spandex, latex or leather suits, maybe a whip, chains, aaaaand now? Looking down, probably a cold shower, due to his, err, current predicament. His eyes darting around quickly for any would-be blackmailers which he was certain that's what they'd do if they caught him, as he was in a hallway with a very prominent erection, exacerbated by the fact he was wearing skin-tight, almost fully frictionless spandex, thus making it easier to, um, rise. Luckily, he was The Scarlet Speedster, The Sultan Of Swoosh, The Fastest Man Alive, so arriving back in his room was took a jiffy.
A pungent odour attacked his nose's and made him gag immediately upon entering his room, a grotesque, sour taste crawling in his throat, mercilessly depriving him of stale, recycled air, only marginally better than the overwhelming stench he was currently stood in. Determined, he trudged through a minefield of empty package wrappers, old sweaty shoes now abandoned under the other refuse, and waded through rivers of his civilian clothes, almost drowning in them. He knew he had to get the offending culprit out first, the war leader and the biggest contributor of the various stenches, now allied to plot his downfall. With almost as much hatred as the Justice Lord Superman had encouraged, he blurred out of his room, ejected the milk – cheese? – carton out of the airlock, dooming it to eternal damnation, all in less than a microsecond. Breathing a sigh of relief, he almost sprinted into the shower, turned it on *like she turned me on* and retreated out of his costume, then letting a relaxing, yet cool presence, slither down his body in rivulets while he turned the knob of the shower *and my own- damn, dirty, fucking thoughts! Get out of my head god-damn-it!*
What was once supposed to be a good morning for The Flash, turned embarrassing, was about to become a whole lot worse; he heard a familiar, bass accent only belonging to one J'onn J'onzz, overlayed with an electrical effect, interfered with by the occasional static hiss, state,
"Flash, Power Girl, you're needed up in the Control Room".