The Guardian Year One

Chapter One

It was a dark night, a night darker than any other night, but it was still early; it was only seven o'clock in the evening, and National City was noisy as usual. Supergirl had extinguished the blazing fire at the Nova High Rise, and saved nearly three hundred people from burning to death. James already had his editor working on the story, and making a huge puff piece starring Supergirl. James looked out over the city from CATCO, and everything seemed quiet for the moment. It was a Tuesday, and the majority of his staff had headed out for the evening. Kara had returned to the office after her battle because James needed her to work on a hot story, and Snapper continued his work in the editing room. James expecting him to have all the updated stories on the website by four in the morning.

James Olsen meticulously looked over photos of the impenetrable Supergirl fighting against the Parasite, Rudy Jones. The Parasite was a nasty creature, a man infected with an ancient alien bug. He then set one of the pictures of her blowing out the fire at the Nova High Rise next to it. He was amazed how the uncontrollable beast tore into the young, tenacious heroin, but she stood her ground. It put her on the brink of death twice, but she recovered; it was her tenacity that he admired more than anything: the fact that she never gave into her pain. He thought back to the first time they kissed for a moment, and then smiled. He didn't know why he kept going back to happier times when Cat Grant ran things at CATCO. It seemed that everything was going perfect for Kara and James, but then she called off the relationship. Her reasoning was almost unfathomable to him. It caught him off guard in such a way that he wanted to scream at the top of his lunges. He didn't know why he felt the way he did, but he did.

"I need to find myself," she said. Those words played repeatedly in his mind, and he sat back in his chair for a second to rest his head. "I need to find myself." James laughed for a moment. It was a cold laugh, the kind of laugh that he did so he wouldn't go insane from thinking about her. When she initiated the first kiss, he thought she'd be mature enough to move forward with the relationship. It was like she wasn't mature enough to make adult decisions, but he felt a void in his heart about it nonetheless; he truly loved her, and wanted to be part of her life. He smiled for a moment, and held up her picture to the light. Her face sparkled in the picture. He slid another photo out of his yellow folder; it was the Guardian. He placed it next to Supergirl's photo like they were a couple. He shook his head in disagreement, and then placed the Guardian photo back into the yellow folder.

National City loved the Guardian, and he didn't exactly understand the appeal of the newest vigilante on the streets of National City. He had his thoughts about why National City loved him, but he couldn't put his finger on it. All they knew was the man on the surface, but they didn't have a clue about the man underneath the armor. Kara walked in front of his office, and didn't even look in to see him. He kept his eyes on her as she walked past. The weight on his heart was heavier than he thought it should be; it was like a two ton truck.

"It's almost nine o'clock in the evening," Kara screamed from the hallway, "I'm out. Okay, James?"

"Okay," James yelled from his office. "See you tomorrow."

He wondered if Kara felt anything or was her heart as hard as her Kryptonian skin. Did she have a clue what she had done to him? He couldn't help but wonder. She must feel something he thought. He looked down at her photo, traced over her face with his right index finger, and then whispered, "Move on, James. Just move on. She has."

The Internet had blown up over the Guardian's inception during the attack of the Parasite, and James thought it had to do with his human qualities. Mankind had a hard time relating to the pain of an alien who couldn't feel pain, but since James was a human, he knew National City could relate to that. Man bleeds. Kryptonians don't bleed. In addition, National City had a fear of aliens, especially from the red kryptonite infected Supergirl, and how she attacked National City, threw Cat Grant out of a high rise window, and nearly destroyed a downtown pub. The people of National City had long memories when it came to bad events. The majority of them might have forgiven Supergirl for attacking the city, but they won't trust her without question, and no matter what they say, she will always be seen as an alien. But even in the alien community, Supergirl wasn't a welcomed sight. They didn't trust her because she worked with the government. Suddenly, he realized that Kara's life was complicated because she had an entire world of problems to balance. Humans would never fully accept her as a human being and aliens would always see her as a sellout.

For a moment, James allowed his mind to wander, and he thought about Kara standing in front of him in just a white t-shirt and panties. Her radiant smile pierced his soul. He looked up at her, and admired the sun shining in the background. His thoughts about her were intense, and passionately feverish. He knew the image of her couldn't be real, but he wanted it to be; he always wanted it to be. He had tried several times to block out the moment they shared, but he couldn't. He wanted her badly, but the relationship wasn't part of her plan. She was smitten with another guy, with Mon-El. He saw the way she looked at him, and it burned. It was like she took a torch to his heart. The life of a superhero didn't allow for backseat romances, but Mon-El was in her inner circle now. James felt like an outsider to her, a nuisance. He smiled; it was a brittle smile—cold. He placed the stack of photos in an envelope, and then placed them in his desk on top of several other photos. Palming his bald head, he rubbed it, as if something troubled him about the photos he had just placed in his desk. He pulled the envelope back out of his desk drawer, opened it quickly, and thumbed through the photos. He pulled out the photo with Supergirl striking the Parasite. In the background, he saw a limousine with a pasty redhead woman watching the girl of steel. He didn't notice the woman in the background when he snapped the picture in his Guardian suit. It was like she didn't resonate until he thought about how much he truly desired Kara.

The woman looked like she had supreme authority, but sickly pale. She looked dangerous-ominous. He took out a magnifying glass, and saw the woman's face clearer, and it was Lillian Luthor. He knew she was a force of nature that had more than a few weapons that could hurt Kara. He took that photo, and pulled out another folder in his desk with Lillian's name written across the top of it. He placed the photo in there.

An older, scraggly, and balding white man lumbered by James' office, and he said, in a strong, manly voice, "Snapper! Let's talk." James sensed his recalcitrant ways, but he didn't let it bother him.

"Yes, boss?" Snapper asked snarkily.

"Where are we on the Cadmus piece?" He asked seriously. He didn't care too much for Snapper's attitude, but the knew the older, balding man had skills that couldn't be easily replaced.

"Wait? You really want to screw with those people?" Snapper asked, "Do you have any idea who these people are?"

"Yeah. With enough negative publicity..."

"It's your grave, Olsen. These are the kind of people that'll bury you face down."

"Just get it to me by COB tomorrow, Snapper."

Snapper clicked his heels together, gave James a palm-showing salute, and said, "Yes, sir!"

Later that night...

James Olsen had a large apartment, an apartment a few blocks from Kara's place, but he made a conscious choice not to bother her. He had a life size photo of Supergirl on his wall, and when he walked past it, he mumbled, "That's not creepy. That's not creepy at all." He had a lush bedroom, a bedroom ripe for two souls intertwined in a deep, steamy romance, but he occupied it by himself. On the balcony, he had a telescope that he used to peer up at the heavens. Sometimes he would see Kara swooping through the sky, and capture a photograph of her for the newspaper. He took as many photos of her as Supergirl as possible. He grabbed a bottle of wine, and poured a glass over some dry ice. He took a sip, and swirled it around his mouth before swallowing.

Walking out on the balcony, he peered over at Kara's apartment across the way, and it looked lifeless. He knew she was working for the DEO, and he wasn't invited. It was something that she did in her spare time. He wondered if she was inside whittling a mountain of chocolate ice cream down to size, but that was only his mind trying to humanize, trying to deflect from the pain he felt from losing her. He smiled sheepishly for a moment, and then thought, if not for the lead film around his apartment, Kara would easily find out his alternate identity.

He heard the doorbell ring, and he knew it was Winn at the front door. "It's open," he yelled in a loud voice, "Just twist the knob." He guzzled down the rest of his wine, and then wiped his mouth.

James towered over Winn; he was approximately six-foot-four inches while Winn only stood about five-foot-eight inches. Winn wore tight, skinny jeans where the pants legs narrowed into the ankles. He had a fluffy, somewhat curly hairdo, and the sides were thinly cut. He handed James a silver tube about six inches long.

"Careful. This is the Phantom Grenade Launcher," he said with a stern look on his face.

"What does it do?" He asked.

"Basically, it deionizes the atmosphere for a circumference of ten meters."

"How long does it last?" James asked.

"A few seconds," he said. He held the launcher in his right hand, and explained, "Gives you enough time to make your kill attack." Handing the weapon to James, James clapped it on his right arm, and rolled his sleeve over it.

"This should give me the upper hand."

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