Chapter 4: Fitting Broken Pieces

"I'M EMPLOYED!"

Helena jolted awake from her half doze over the keyboard as Gar came bounding into the base. His holographic projector was still on so he was currently brunet with pale skin and no slightly elongated canines. He did a victory lap around the first floor of the base with his arms in the air.

"This new form of employment pleases you, then?" asked Sir Justin (Shining Knight) from where he was busily polishing his armor until it gleamed properly. "It excites you more than your previous occupation?"

Gar stopped, put his hands on his hips, and grinned broadly.

"I'm going to get to interact with real, live people!" he announced. Then he deflated slightly. "It's not the best thing in the world. I'm basically just going to be a receptionist. But," he brightened up again, "I'm going to be a receptionist in a vet's office. And it's fulltime!" Gar switched off his holographic projector and continued to shimmy his victory dance around the room.

The team meeting was winding down, and it was staggering just how crowded these things were getting. Then again, most people had an easier time getting to them when they were held on a Saturday. They had actually finally started a collection for a bigger table.

"Anything else anybody wants to add before we call it a night?" Huntress asked, rolling her stiff shoulders.

"I have a quick question for everybody," Nightwing announced. Huntress eyed him warily, because Nightwing's sense of humor was notorious. "Show of hands: how many of you have actually seen what Q looks like without his mask?"

Only about half the members present raised their hands, which was pretty sad considering that all six of the original members where there.

"He really does have a face?" somebody called jokingly. This was met by a round of laughter.

"Okay, yeah. That's just sad and unacceptable." Nightwing stood, put one hand on his hip and pointed the other at Question. "Time for some show-and-tell, Q."

Next to Huntress, Q's shoulders tensed up.

"What?! No!"

"Come on – you've seen all them without their masks on. It's only fair." Nightwing made grabby hands at Question. This promptly devolved into Nightwing chasing Q in circles around the table. It looked like something out of an old slapstick cartoon. Obviously neither of them were taking this too seriously.

"Uh, is this okay?" Stargirl asked, leaning in to speak to Huntress softly. "I know Q is very private, and I'd never want to force another phoenix to-"

"Don't worry," Huntress reassured her. "If he really wasn't okay with this, Q would be reminding 'Wing that the arrows I use are the pointy kind that put holes in you. 'Wing would never do something like this if Q wasn't okay with it."

Stargirl didn't look particularly convinced, but that was fine.

After another five laps of the table ('Wing wasn't trying very hard), Nightwing finally caught Question in an impressive flying tackle aided by Green Arrow sticking his foot out at just the right moment. The tackle was met by a round of applause.

Nightwing dragged Question to the head of the table. Question didn't struggle, just crossed his arms and went limp, because hauling deadweight was a pain. Nightwing made an annoyed sound, and Huntress knew that underneath his mask Question was smirking.

"Aw, come on!" Nightwing protested. "Alright, everybody – masks off! Our paranoid leader is shy." Dick pulled off his mask along with everyone else in the room. He held out a hand. "Alright, Q, hand it over. Unless you desperately want me digging through the contents of your pockets."

Question obligingly pulled out his can of aerosol but didn't pass it to Dick.

"I can take off my own mask, thank you very much."

"Aw," Dick whined dramatically, clutching at his chest. "It was gonna be like a magic trick! I was going to get Babs to be my beautiful assistant and everything."

Question casually stepped down hard on Dick's instep and began applying the aerosol as Dick screeched in pain. Several people around the room made surprised noises at the coloration changes. Vic peeled back his mask with practiced ease.

"There. Does that satisfy everyone's curiosity?" he asked, ignoring Ollie's catcalls with ease.

"Ugh." Kara let her head fall onto her folded arms. "I hate that I have to take a 'well rounded' selection of courses."

Helena eyed the papers and textbooks scattered across the meeting table. They surrounded Kara like a small, papery mountain range.

"What's all this for?"

"Professor Nigma's class. Metaphor, Rhyme and Figurative Language in English Literature. He's a really interesting lecturer, but his course load is beastly. If I didn't need the English credit, I'd drop the course and just audit it instead. Essay writing isn't really my thing."

Helena leafed through some of Kara's notes. She may have only been in pre-med, but she certainly had the handwriting to be a doctor. Years of grading papers, however, had made Helena fairly adept at reading horrible handwriting.

"How long does the essay need to be?"

"Three thousand words minimum," Kara groaned, head still on the table.

"Well, it sounds like you have some good ideas."

"Yeah, but I need academic, peer-reviewed sources to back up my ideas. I'm an undergrad – I'm not allowed to have original thoughts."

Helena put down Kara's notes.

"What did you say your professor's name was?"

"Professor Nigma."

Helena frowned.

"Now why does that name sound familiar?" she mused, putting her hands on her hips.

"Edward Nigma. Alias the Riddler. Has more or less given up crime in favor of pursuing his doctorate and writing scathing but insightful peer reviews of other academics' work," Q rattled off without even looking up from his computer terminal across the room.

"What?!" Kara yelped, bolting upright. "Professor Nigma is the Riddler?!" She held her head in her hands. "Oh, god, I'm never going to be able to sit through another lecture without picturing him covered in question marks and spandex."

Ollie and Dinah were sparring. Which really meant that Ollie and Dinah were having very violent, public foreplay. It was alarming, and if she possibly could, Helena always tried not to be there to witness it. Voyeurism was really not her thing. Today, unfortunately, her timing had been off, and now she was trapped along with Barbara. The teleporters were currently down while the last of the updates finished downloading.

"Ya know," Barbara commented, "If Dick and I decided to make out on the couch, people would complain."

"Yup," Helena agreed.

"I'd say they're corrupting young minds, but Kara isn't here, and she comes to poker night anyway," Barbara mused.

"It never ceases to impress me how flexible Dinah is," Helena muttered, trying desperately to focus on the book she was reading, but morbid curiosity kept drawing her eye back.

"Never fear, ladies," Gar announced grandly. He puffed up his chest and struck a dramatic pose. "I have a plan." Helena and Barbara each raised an eyebrow at him, and his grin widened.

Gar shifted into a green monkey and shot up an I-beam to the base's split second level. Helena put down her book, crossed her arms and waited. This ought to be good.

It was.

The red water balloon sailed through the air in a beautiful, graceful arc. It almost seemed to hover for a moment like it had wings keeping it aloft. Then smacked into the back of Ollie's head.

SPLOOSH!

Two more water balloons followed closely in the first's wake. One impacted on Dinah's shoulder while the other exploded across the floor.

There was an appreciative round of applause from Helena, Barbara, and all the other trapped onlookers.

"DAMN IT, GAR!" yelled a bedraggled Ollie while Dinah pushed damp hair out of her face and signed out exactly how she planned to eviscerate the shapeshifter when she caught him.

Vic still seemed eternally baffled by physical displays of affection. Especially when they were directed towards him. It was like he still couldn't quite conceptualize people genuinely enjoying being around him, but he soaked up anything he was given like a vaguely confused sponge. The original members of the Corps already knew this, but now that Vic was comfortable enough to be at the base without his mask on more often, the newer members were starting to notice as well.

It was all very casual. The occasional touch to the arm or shoulder. A pat on the back. Sometimes a hug. (Stargirl was very big on hugs. Nobody minded. They all needed more hugs in their lives.) And through it all Vic just looked happily confused.

Huntress had never expected to meet Wonder Woman in the flesh. And she really hadn't expected it to be because Wonder Woman's mother – Queen Hippolyta – and an entourage of other warriors from Themyscira had dragged her back to 'Man's World' by the hair. And Huntress meant that literally. Queen Hippolyta really did have ahold of her daughter by the hair and looked absolutely enraged.

The thing that Huntress found confusing, though, was the part where several governments had actually requested the presence of Phoenix Corps representatives for this. They'd even asked for Question specifically. It had been weird. These people knew that they worked out of a warehouse, right? Huntress wasn't certain what the point was, but she sure as hell wasn't letting Q go on his own. Black Canary, Green Arrow, Vigilante, and the Crimson Avenger had volunteer to come as well. They were all wearing their phoenix emblems so that they were displayed prominently.

"We have come to make reparations!" Hippolyta practically bellowed. She was resplendent in her brilliant golden armor. For some reason she seemed to be focusing mainly on the Corps members. "My daughter was sent here to be an ambassador of peace and instead she brought destruction and pain. Her powers have been taken from her, and she has been stripped of the armaments she is no longer worthy to bare, but she is still an Amazon and will live many mortal life times. To that end, I present her here, so that she may pay for her crimes in Man's World before she pays for them again in Themyscira." Wonder Woman had already been on her knees with her head bowed, but a flick of Queen Hippolyta's wrist sent her crashing to all fours. "Our only condition is that she not be killed. She must not escape punishment by fleeing to the underworld."

"Your request is fair," spoke up one of the chosen spokesmen. "None of the other Lords we have captured have been put to death. We shall write up an agreement."

Hippolyta nodded her consent. Then she turned and purposefully caught Black Canary's eye.

"You are one of those injured." It was a statement, not a question. Black Canary dipped her chin in confirmation. "And you wish to speak with her." Another nod. "Very well then." Hippolyta took a step back from her daughter. Canary vaulted over the table she was seated behind. Green Arrow followed her. Wonder Woman looked up for the first time.

Canary crouched in front of Wonder Woman, pulled down her black choker to fully display her scars, then let it fall back into place and began to sign. Arrow translated for her, speaking the words her hands were forming.

Once, I thought you were someone to admire, someone I could work with, but in the end you turned out to be more spineless and pathetic than I could ever imagine. Your hand did not murder, but it did destroy. You stood idly by as he killed and maimed. Out of all of them, you had the power to stay his hand, but instead you helped to strike down those of us who protested. You stood idly by as he stole my friends and stole my voice. But I forgive you, because a creature as pathetic as you isn't even worth my hate. After what you have done, not even a hundred lifetimes of penance could give you back your worth.

Black Canary straightened up again and in front of her, Wonder Woman seemed to deflate, steadily becoming smaller and smaller.

Helena merely murmured, "Eloquant," as Black Canary rejoined the rest of the Corps.

I've given it a lot of thought, Canary signed. Her face was grim.

"Hey, Helena, can I, um, talk to you for a minute?" Kara was shifting nervously back and forth from foot to foot.

Helena glided smoothly through her strike against an invisible opponent and then straighten and collapsed her bo staff.

"Sure. What do you need?"

Kara looked down, twisting her hands together.

"You and Vic live in Gotham, right?"

"Yeah."

"Could I- Would it be too much trouble if- I mean, would it be alright if I stayed with you two over spring break?"

Helena blinked. That was definitely not what she had been expecting.

"Pardon?"

"I mean, I don't want to be any trouble! I'd sleep on the couch and provide my own meals and everything. I swear I wouldn't get under foot – you'd barely even see me."

"Woah! Calm down. Why do you want to stay with me and Vic?"

"I just… don't want to go home." Kara looked ashamed. Her shoulders sagged. "It sounds awful, but it feels like… Ma and Pa don't see me anymore. All they see when they look at me is Clark. It feels like they're always waiting for me to…. I know they don't mean to, but it hurts. When I'm in Gotham, I can just be me."

Helena had no words for that, so she pulled her into a hug instead. She was still sweaty and sticky from her workout, but Kara didn't seem to mind.

"I'll talk to Vic. It shouldn't be a problem." Helena pulled back and added in a more lighthearted tone, "Just don't mess with the Conspiracy Board. He takes that personally."

Kara rewarded her attempt at levity with a small smile.

"Thank you."

The thing to remember when patrolling Metropolis was to have your Phoenix Corps emblem somewhere obvious and visible. Even when it was pouring rain.

Huntress scowled. Just her luck. Not even two hours into her night for patrolling Metropolis, and she was already pretty much soaked through. She obviously needed to re-waterproof her cape.

She didn't like patrolling Metropolis even when it wasn't raining. It was… depressing. The people of Metropolis had been rendered particularly jaded and depressed by the rise of the Lords. They had loved Superman, and he had betrayed them all. At least they had stopped throwing things at vigilantes so long as they were wearing the Phoenix Corps emblem.

On the one hand, the rain was miserable and cold. On the other hand, most of the criminals were choosing to stay in for the night rather than brave the awful weather. Hopefully, Huntress would be able to cut her patrol short tonight before she developed pneumonia. Fingers crossed. Or maybe she'd at least get called back to Gotham for some reason, where it wasn't raining.

She could survive this just so long as the water didn't seep into her boots.

Squelch.

Water was leaking into her boots.

Huntress reminded herself that randomly shooting arrows at the alley wall would be a waste of arrows even if it would make her feel better. Her hair was falling out of the braid she'd pulled it back into before she'd left that night. She pushed a damp clump of said hair behind her ear and prayed for the night to hurry up and be over already.

There was a stirring of air in the alley where Huntress was seeking temporary shelter from the rain, and suddenly she wasn't alone anymore.

A kid was standing in front of her. He looked to be about Gar's age with a flame of brunet hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. He was wearing a red hoodie and ragged, fading jeans.

"You're with the Phoenix Corps, right?"

Huntress plucked at the phoenix emblem on the left side of her chest and bit back the first three "no shit, Sherlock" comments that came to mind, because this kid was obviously a metahuman. The fact that he'd even dared to come out of hiding to talk to her was impressive. There was still no word from the magic user community. Nobody was even sure if any of them had survived.

"Yup. The name's Huntress. And you are?"

"I used to go by Impulse. I was… kinda the Flash's understudy." He scuffed one sneaker against the ground and shoved his hands into his kangaroo pocket. "I wanna start helping people again, but… I don't want to scare them 'cause I'm a meta. And the Free Press said that the Corps doesn't just take non-powers…."

Impulse's name was Bart Allen, and he had a prosthetic knee. Superman had blown out the original with his heat vision when Bart had tried to honor his mentor's memory and took a stand against the rising Lords. Superman had informed him that if he tried to do anything against the Lords again, he'd simply cut his entire leg off the next time. Bart had been lucky and with the prosthetic his knee had healed well, but he still couldn't run quite so fast as he used to.

Bart was impish and charismatic. Gar was thrilled to have another meta aside from Kara in the Corps – especially one who shared his sense of humor. Bart was relieved to have somewhere where he could eat at a speed that was normal for him without tempting fate. He also volunteered to be a permanent second for the Metropolis patrol. He said that he wanted to help restore Metropolis's faith in 'heroes.' Nobody had the heart to correct his terminology.

Helena wondered what would happen if an older and less outgoing metahuman ever joined the Corps. Both Gar and Bart were easy to like and accept. Hopefully, they would ease the way for when a less personable meta finally joined their odd family.

"'m fine!"

"You have a fever of a hundred and one degrees, your cough medicine makes you so woozy that you can barely stand, when the cough medicine wears off you are coughing so hard that you throw up, and the doctor has already diagnosed you with bronchitis. You are not 'fine.'" Vic threw a blanket over Helena's head to emphasize his point, and Helena flailed at it weakly. She hated being sick. "You are staying here – either in bed or on the couch. Kara, sit on her if she tries to get up and do anything more strenuous than watching television."

Kara gave him a mock salute. Helena doubted that this was how the kid had anticipated spending her spring break with them.

"You can count on me."

"Traitor," grumbled Helena. "I freaking hate Metropolis."

"I know." Vic knelt down gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "There's a couple of cans of soup out by the stove and more ginger ale in the fridge," he informed Kara. "Do not let her turn on the police scanner."

Helena pouted.

"You're treating me like I'm eight. I don't need a babysitter."

Vic raised an eyebrow at her.

"I was there last time this happened. You had the flu and tried to suit up and leave for patrol via the fire escape. Twice."

Okay, yeah. So maybe she'd done that, and maybe that hadn't been the best idea. And maybe she'd passed out halfway out the window the second time. But it's not like that was going to happen this time. …This time she wasn't going to get caught, because she was just fine.

Totally.

"Don't worry – I've got this," Kara assured Vic. "I'll just read her one of my textbooks, and she'll be asleep in no time."

Dinah sprinted off the teleporter pad and tackled Helena in a hug. Helena let out a yelp of surprise as Dinah practically lifted her off the ground in her enthusiasm. She looked uncharacteristically happy. It wasn't that Dinah didn't smile a lot. It was just that she usually didn't smile this big. She finally let go of Helena and started to sign frantically, her excitement making her sloppy.

I found him! I finally found- Dinah used a name sign that Helena didn't catch.

"Who?"

"Wildcat," Ollie clarified, following behind Dinah at a more sedate pace but still grinning broadly. "Dinah finally tracked him down."

"Seriously? You actually found him?" Helena asked incredulously. Dinah had been trying to locate her mentor, Ted Grant, for several years now. Dinah nodded vigorously. "That's great! Where was he?"

The West Coast, Dinah signed. She couldn't stop smiling. He's been running a gym.

Watching Dinah and Ted's reunion was both wonderful and heartbreaking, because they were so happy and relieved to see each other… but he couldn't understand a single word she signed. Ollie had to translate. Helena could see it in Ted's eyes – he was crushed.

"Don't worry," she murmured when Dinah finally stepped away for a moment. "We'll teach you."

"I should have been there for her."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of things we all should have done. It's too damn late for that. The important thing is that you're there for her now."

Dick was giving Kara another lesson on the training mats while Helena, Barbara, and Mari watched. Mari had joined the Phoenix Corps along with Ted. She'd been training with him to be able to fight without relying on any help from the totem she no longer had. Green Lantern had crushed it to powder.

"She's not too bad," Mari commented. "Her punches are awfully hesitant, though."

"Mmm," Barbara agreed. Neither Barbara nor Helena felt inclined to explain why Kara was so terrified of fighting back. Mari was still a bit too new, and it wasn't their story to tell anyway. Helena changed the subject.

"So is that the outfit you're going with?" she asked, indicating Mari's bodysuit. It was a dark rusty orange with a hint of tiger stripe on the legs and back. Instead of sleeves, she wore long black gloves which ended in pointed claws. Black boots and a black utility belt completed the look.

"Yeah. You like?" Mari stood and gave a small spin to show off. "Not exactly the same as before, but it makes me feel like my old Vixen self again."

"It looks good," Barbara declared, though it was hard to imagine an outfit that wouldn't look good on Mari. She was like Dinah that way – she looked gorgeous no matter what.

"Yeah." Helena hesitated. "Do you have any Kevlar in that?"

"Kevlar?" Mari sounded confused. "Why would I need Kevlar?"

"So you don't end up like me," Barbara stated bluntly. "It's sort of one of the few rules around here. If you don't have armor or some sort of special power to protect you, you at least wear a chest plate."

"We nearly lost Question less than a year in. After Crimson Avenger took a bullet to the chest, we decided to make it mandatory." Helena didn't like to remember either of those incidents. She still woke up from nightmares of her hands covered in Vic's blood, and Lee had nearly bled out before they could get to him.

Mari sighed.

"I guess that makes sense, but doesn't it make fighting more awkward?"

"Nah." Helena flicked her own chest plate that she hadn't bothered to take off, yet. "The new ones are pretty light a flexible. After a couple of spars to get used to fighting in one, you won't even know the difference."

Helena didn't miss the open panel design of her old costume that had exposed her stomach. She had come to terms with her own mortality a long time ago.

Vic looked practically gray with exhaustion as he leaned into Helena's side on their couch.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" he whispered.

Helena stared at the pages of information spread out on their coffee table. This was not what they had been hoping for.

"You have to tell them."

"Obviously. Not what I meant."

"Tell them here, in private."

"Dick, Gar, come in." Vic's shoulders were hunched and stiff, and he had three file folders clutched in his hand. Helena already knew what the folders contained. Vic had been working on this for weeks. Dick and Gar both looked hopeful but wary.

"You found out what happened to the rest of the Titans then?" asked Gar.

"Yes."

"It's not good news, is it?" Dick's voice was quiet and resigned.

"Sit down." Vic led them over to the couch. He set the files on the coffee table. There was a picture attached to each of them. Two young women and a man.

"Just give it to us straight."

Vic sighed.

"After being the victim of two major mobs, Cyborg fled north and has been hiding in Northwestern Canada. I've been able to narrow his location down to two possible areas. It appears that Starfire left the planet shorty before the Lords fell. And Raven," Vic hesitated. "Raven was killed during a riot a month and a half after the Fall. I'm sorry."

"Rae… Rae's dead?" whispered Gar. Vic simply nodded.

"Yes." He abruptly stood. "There're more details in the files, if you want them. I'll, uh, leave you two alone for a moment." He hurriedly joined Helena in the spare room and closed the door behind him. Helena just caught a glimpse of Dick and Gar leaning into each other before the door closed. Gar was crying.

"What in tarnation is this racket?" grumbled Vigilante as he stepped off the teleporter pad. He had his hands over his ears.

"I would say that in theory this is music, but I fear that 'racket' truly is the more apt description," Shining Knight frowned as he stepped off the teleporter pad as well. Whiny pop music was playing from a battered CD player. The CD player, like the coffee maker, was a secondhand donation that lacked style but got the job done.

"Kara, darlin', I love ya, but ya have got to turn that tin-pan rattlin' off!"

Kara glanced up from her textbooks.

"It's not mine. I like country."

Vigilante and Shining Knight turned their accusing gazes to Helena, but she held up her hands.

"Don't look at me. It's not mine either." She bit down on a smile.

Q chose that minute to wander by, apparently immersed in some data printouts and humming along with the music under his breath.

Greg pulled down his bandana and gaped at him incredulously.

"Q, don't me ya actually like this here caterwauling!"

Question paused and tipped his head slightly to one side, the way he only ever did while he was wearing the mask. Then he shrugged.

"It's catchy."

"You don't have any conspiracy theories about pop music?" Kara asked, amused.

"Not this group. Now country-"

Kara held up a finger, cutting him off.

"Don't even go there."

"Why are we betting on this?" Bart asked. He was sitting next to Mari, Helena, Dinah, Kara, and Lee on the edge of the split level. More Corps members were perched on various pieces of furniture down below, waiting for the show to begin.

"Because why not?" Helena answered.

"And it's more fun this way," added Mari.

"But I thought you said me and Gar betting on whether Helena or Dinah would win their last spar was letting our male chauvinism show through." Bart looked confused.

I didn't care about the betting. It was the commentary on my ass that I didn't appreciate, Dinah signed with a frown.

"What was that?" asked Bart.

"She said that she didn't appreciate your comments about her ass."

"Oh. Sorry." Bart had the decency to look contrite. He thought for a moment. "So what's so exciting about this matchup anyway?"

"Q almost never spars, and Arrow is more of a long range fighter," Kara explained. "This is kind of novel."

"Besides, they're really entertaining to watch. They come up with some really entertaining insults, and last time Q threw a couple of Kara's textbooks at Arrow." Helena also enjoyed being able to sit back and just watch Q fight when their lives weren't on the line.

"Best use anybody's put those books to," Kara muttered. It may have been Kara's calculus textbook that Question had thrown, and Kara might have really hated that class.

"He threw textbooks during a friendly spar?" Bart yelped.

Helena shrugged.

"He's from Hub City. He still hasn't fully grasped the concept of a 'friendly spar.'"

"So are you in or are you out?" Mari waved the envelope she'd been gathering dollar bills in. Betting was a flat rate of one dollar. Anybody who had more money than that to waste donated it to the 'we have to be able to pay our freaking electric bill' fund.

Bart shrugged, opened his wallet, and obligingly pulled out a dollar.

"A dollar on Arrow then, I guess."

Dinah nodded approvingly.

"Riddler wants you to talk to Catwoman."

Helena lifted her bleary glaze from her as-of-yet untouched mug of coffee and squinted at Vic. The lack of caffeine must have been affecting her hearing, because Vic couldn't have just said that.

"He wants what?"

"You to talk to Catwoman. He's worried about her. Thinks she's depressed."

Helena stared at his face, waiting for the punchline. None came. Vic just stared back at her, completely serious.

"Baby doll, please tell me that your strange sense of humor is showing again."

"Would never joke about something like this."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that," Helena groaned. "Why the hell would Riddler want me – me – to talk to Catwoman? And why would you tell me something like this before I've even had my caffeine?"

"I believe he thinks you would be best suited because you are both female, terrifying when mad, tend to dress in purple, and have previous associations with Batman." Vic paused and took a sip of his own coffee. "And if I had waited until after you'd had your first cup of coffee, you wouldn't even have stuck around for this much of the conversation."

He was right – Helena definitely would have bolted.

"That sounds like an incredibly arbitrary reason to pick me. Riddler remembers that I'm a vigilante, right?"

"I think he was more focused on that you were able to move on after what happened, though his logic was somewhat shaky."

"Hey, Vic, I've got a question," Kara announced. "The physics course I just signed up for is being taught by a Dr. Ray Palmer, and that name sounds familiar, but I can't remember why. Did I just manage to sign up for another class being taught by a reformed villain?"

"Dr. Ray Palmer formerly of Ivy University?" Vic asked. He frowned at the fan of cards in his hands. Helena, Vic, Greg, and Sir Justin were playing Hearts, and if Helena wasn't mistaken, Vic was about to get control. Again. Damn it. Vic counted cards like a pro. She was already up to eighty-six points. Short of a miracle, Helena was definitely losing this round.

"I think so." Kara pulled out the course information she had printed off. "Yeah, he was just offered tenure at Gotham U and made head of the physics department." She paused. "He's an ex-villain, isn't he? I'm going to spend another semester trying not to picture one of my professors in spandex."

"Not a villain – a vigilante," Vic corrected. "The Atom. Generally uses his suit for scientific research."

"Ain't he one o' the ones Oracle's been tryin' ta track down?" asked Greg.

"Mmm," Vic nodded, "valuable resource."

Kara groaned and flopped sideways onto the couch.

"Why did I have to pick the school that attracts all the crazies?" she moaned.

"Because you're one of them, Miss Kryptonite Necklace?" suggested Gar from where he was lounging on the hideous, neon orange beanbag. It was his favorite, because it clashed with his skin so badly.

Kara balled up one of her printouts and threw it at his head.

Lois Lane was on Helena's couch again. It didn't get any less surreal no matter how many times it happened. Even if they were sort of friends now. They generally didn't discuss the Corps, but they did talk about the former Lords.

"I sent him a glitter bomb." Lois sounded smug.

"You what?" Helena nearly choked on her lemonade.

"I sent him a glitter bomb," Lois repeated, "with kryptonite green glitter in it. Now his entire cell is going to sparkle green for months." To say that Lois was still bitter about her two years of solitary confinement would be… an understatement. But she'd found a way of passive aggressively dealing with it.

"And the guards actually let him open it?" Helena asked.

"Yup. They even recorded it for me – his reaction was classic."

"You're such a sadist."

Lois shrugged.

"Maybe. It would probably be crueler if I just ignored him entirely – put no thought or effort into his state of existence. One day I will. But be honest, if you could get away with it, wouldn't you still take a shot at breaking Batman's nose?"

"Maybe." Helena leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. "It's driving him nuts that the Corps won't accept any money from him even now. I just never want to see his face again. Nightwing definitely wouldn't mind breaking his nose a time or two, though." She swirled around the lemonade in her glass. "So did you send Superman anything else in your latest 'hate package' or was it just the kryptonite glitter this time."

"Just the glitter. Next time I'm going to send some cilantro – he can't stand the smell."

Huntress folded her arms and scuffed one boots against the rooftop.

"So how is this supposed to work?" she asked.

Catwoman raised an eyebrow at her.

"How am I supposed to know? I'm not sure what Eddie expected this to accomplish."

"I think Q mentioned something about catharsis," Huntress shrugged, "but I honestly didn't really follow what he was talking about."

They stood in silence for a moment. Neither one of them wanted to discuss feelings or the Bat in the room. Huntress eyed the bullwhip around Catwoman's waist.

"So how do you manage with that thing instead of a grappling line?" she asked.

Catwoman smiled.

The evening turned out much better than either of them had expected.

Ollie was currently moping because a bad fall had put his left forearm in a cast which meant no archery or crime fighting for the foreseeable future. Or at least the next couple of months. Wildcat was backing up Black Canary for patrolling Star City while Ollie recovered. To entertain himself and work out some of his pent up frustration at the situation, Ollie had set up a target and was practicing his knife throwing. That's how it had started out anyway, but like most things that happened at the base, it hadn't stayed that way for long. Greg and Lee, as it turned out, could also throw knives, so there had been a twenty minute long competition which had ended in a tie between Ollie and Greg.

The competition had drawn a small crowd as various members filtered in and out of the base. Now Gar, Bart, and Pat (who piloted the STRIPE armor) were being taught the art of throwing knives, and Dick was teaching Mari the finer points of throwing bird-a-rangs, because she thought that style of projectile would work for her better. Barbara had even demonstrated that, even though her legs no longer functioned, she could still throw a bird-a-rang like a champ.

Helena was watching from the split level well clear of the line of fire. She'd been down in the thick of it earlier, but now she needed a break. A pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind, and Vic rest his chin on her shoulder. She smiled and leaned back into him.

"Can you believe we went from the two of us taking down one wannabe meth dealer together to this?" she asked.

"Definitely not the expected outcome." Vic was a quiet moment. "I'm glad you asked me to help you."

"Yeah. Me, too." At that moment in her life, Helena thought that that was one of the best decisions she had ever made.

A/N: Coming soon - the Justice League meets the Phoenix Corps.

Thank you for all of your continuing support and questions! It's really helped keep the ideas coming. This story is turning out to be so much longer than I expected it to be!

guest - Thank you! And I'm so excited for this crossover, too!

werecat - Thank you! Patriot Act is one of my favorite JLU episodes, so I'm very fond of Vigilante and Shining Knight. I don't think there's going to be any sort of monitoring system for the metas. As for your other questions, I need to think about those some more. :)

espiderhan - Thank you, thank you, thank you! And so many questions! Now I need to go back and re-watch some more JLU at get answers! (What a trial! ;) ) Hmmm... I don't know much about Red Tornado - I shall have to look him up. Also, Huntress/Question community? Where might I find this community? Because I would totally submit this story to it. In case you couldn't guess, they are my favorite DC couple and definitely need more love. And never apologize for long, rant-y reviews - they make my day every time. ;)

Thanks again to everyone for reading!