I am not in a mood. I am above that. I may have been a little bit miffed by the grumblings of a one Wally West, but his words are only leaves in the wind that were here today and now are gone before tomorrow. Honestly, I've already gotten over what he called me.

I do not consider myself overtly rough around the edges. In fact, I think that most of the time I am a very courteous host. I always at least try to smile pleasantly to the people I save. Once, I even patted a little boy on the head because he was scared. Most of all, I am the perfect showman to my patrons.

I know I rather keep to myself, but I don't let it show. I am not a grouch and I swear I am far from being an old fart despite what that reckless child would have others believe; not that I am bothered by what he said anymore. I am over it. I am Zatara, Man of Mystical Might, after all.

Zatanna, my daughter, is the only one who can truly console me, but she's gone today. In fact, I won't be able to rely on her brand of comfort for a long time. She's left for a whole week with them. Those unruly, disrespectful children. A full week without my little girl while she faces dangerous beasts, maniacal villains, and, worst of all, horny pests like that boy, Wally West.

I don't know what other solution, besides my daughter returning, could get my mind off of these worries.

Besides, who are they to ask me to give up my one any only daughter? Normally, I try to support or at least respects the viewpoints of my fellow Leaguers and their wards, but today I find that my opinion has shifted.

I pull off my waistcoat and fold it neatly before placing it on the shelf of the closet. As I change into my pajamas and robe, I think about Batman. I can't help but think that that man is more of a problem than I am. Batman uses the mask as a tool of intimidation within our group of heroes just as much as he uses it to create fear in any the criminal underbelly. It is Batman, not I, who is the anti-social and brooding spook of the night.

I wearily sigh as I lean into my stiff chair with a long book and a good cup of tea. First, I set my teacup on its matching saucer and stir in some sugar cubes. I lightly tap the spoon on the edge of the cup after I finish mixing my drink. I unfold my napkin carefully and place the spoon on top of it.

I take a sip. It's too hot. I hold back my scowl and quickly mutter an incantation over my piping brew. The tea cools to a temperature that is just perfect. The corners of my pencil thin mustache twitch in delight. I stop leaning in for another sip of tea in order to smile wickedly. I take comfort in the fact that I know that boy's secret identity. It's one of the privileges of being so cordial and friendly with the other Leaguers like Barry.

Now that I think about it, Barry really is the problem, not Batman. Batman's mood is mostly false; he was much more polite when he was under my tutelage in the art of escapes. Meanwhile, Barry naturally has a completely unreasonable personality. He is unseasonably cheery. He thinks every day is a perfect day for a debate on the virtues of science over magiks or an impromptu team-up or, at his worse, a family cookout.

It was at one of those family cookouts which he invited me to that my daughter was stolen away by that boy. Normally, I decline his invitations. I decline them politely, but that isn't enough for Zatanna. She is such a nice girl; she accepted the invite for us both because she didn't have the heart to say no.

She's really too nice. I sigh deeply. My tea has grown cold. I hate using magic so frivolously; I always tell Zatanna to take her magiks seriously. I look for my slippers, but cannot find them. I am going to have to walk across the cold tile floors if I want more tea. This really isn't my day.

I walk quickly across the cool floors. I reach the dining room and stop on a rug. Its rough wool warms my feet. I glance at the long distance to the kitchen and then to my glacial toes. I take a moment to contemplate while protected by the safety of the wool rug.

Zatanna was invited by that unscrupulous Wally West character to join his team on a trial basis. I wanted to say no. I wanted to say she couldn't go. But them she begged me to give her this opportunity. She is such a smart girl. She explained how she, at almost eighteen, has had no experience on a team while the other "sidekicks" have had that experience together at much younger ages.

I had to let her go. I didn't want to, but I did because I want her to have the same opportunities everyone else has had. That right there is your evidence Wally West. I am not an unreasonable codger. I am just a father who is deeply worried about his daughter like any other father would be.

I dart across the tile floor to the rug beneath the cook-top. I smile as I prepare another cup of tea by hand, without magic. I smile because, even though I am not using magic to make this tea, I could be using magic to make this tea.

I could be using magic to do a great number of things. Namely, I could be using magic to turn that boy into a frog. I laugh aloud. Somehow, my mood has lifted even before a new cup of tea has reached my lips. Zatanna has always wanted a pet.

A/N: To be continued? I rather enjoy writing this so I might make it a threeshot?