I know this isn't what you wanted, as they obviously don't acctually fight any villians while dressed like that, but I can't write that stuff too well. Soooo... will this do?

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"Uh, Chief, maybe you should come see this..."

The older man gave the other officer a tired look, one that obviously said, 'This outta be good.' And it was. Up above the police station a strange argument was going on. Hawkgirl had a very oddly dressed Hawkman by what appeared to be a leash of some sort. From the looks of things, she'd appearantly dragged him all the way there. To his credit, however, he'd managed to stop her from pulling him down to the police station itself, and instead they both remained suspended in midair.

"Seven Hells, Shayera!" Hawkman, still clad in that bright yellow chicken suit, fluttered his large brown wings pitifully against the taught leash, "I am not going down there!"

Hawkgirl snorted, "You lost the bet, Peacock. Now down with you, or I'll clip your wings good!"

With one good tug, Hawkman's wings went limp and he brokenly followed her down to the police station roof. Already waiting were the chief and several snickering beat cops.

As they landed, Hawkgirl offered an explaination for her partner's predicament, although not to any help, as under his own hawk-faced mask, he was already scarlet. "I guess you think this is funny... Well, Hawkman lost a bet, and if you know what's good for you, none of you will laugh," she accented this, of course, with a glare. No-one moved. "Good." She nodded in agreement, then turned to the chief, "One of your homing pidgeons gave us a message that there was trouble. He said something of giant birds. The ManHawks again?"

The older man blinked once, still staring at Hawkman's, er, problem... "What? Oh! Yes, yes, uh... The ManHawks were spotted not two miles south from here. Haven't caused too much trouble, but were most definetly scaring the people. I'd be quite pleased if you'd check it out."

"And don't get too close to any KFC's!" A random policeman yelled. The rest of the bunch errupted into laughter. Hawkman scowled, taking flight before he could see his own partner laughing along.

.

"If you say one word of this to anyone else, Pie..."

The boy grinned, holding up his hands, "Won't say anything to anyone, Hal."

The Green Lantern patted him on the head, "There's a good Pie."

Pie followed him as he made his way to the hanger door, "And you're sure that you can't take any of the makeup off for 24 hours?"

Hal growled, "No, Pie. It'd void the rest of the bet."

"The dress as well?"

"Pie..."

"Oh, right, sorry," he said, not at all sorry, "I will see you on 6 o'clock news, then, yes?"

"...Goodbye!"

.

Hawkman hadn't made it halfway up a thermnal before a news helicopter tried to get a shot of him. He swore right then that Shay would pay for ever making the two of them bet on something she knew both would lose. He didn't know how he'd exact his revenge, but it involved the hyper-sleep chambers and lots of Jello.

With a very graceful manuver that looked awfully silly on a man wearing a chicken suit, he dodged the helicopter, came up behind it, and flew off, deciding to take another route to the ManHawks.

As he neared the area, he could see trees and cars scorched and burning, something left behind by the obviously improved lasers in the ManHawk's masks. Strange, though, that there were still birds in the trees. Robins fluttered about. Crows sent off the usual warning of, "Hawk! Hawk! Hawk!" as he approached. Even sparrows, usually finicky and flighty in the face of danger, went darting from bush to bush, feeling secure enough to reveal their possision to an obvious preditor. Something was very, very wrong.

And where in Seven Hells was Shayera?

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Tomar Re circled the other Green Lantern, very interested in his new attire. "Hal, could you please explain the use of this billowy peice of clothing you are wearing over your-"

"It's a dress, Tomar," he snapped, "and I already explained to you what happened."

"Ah, yes, this... 'bet'," he paused, "but you never explained to me what exactly the bet was about."

"Me and Karter had one thing in common. Neither of us had ever seen Sparticus. ...That's a movie, Tomar. And so we made bets about how the movie would turn out, because obviously it couldn't follow history. Movies never do. Shayera played the devil's advocate, said she'd seen it, and gave us 'insider tips' on how to make the other one lose. So sure of ourselves, we made the biggest, most idiodic terms possible."

"I am guessing that you both lost in this way, yes?"

Hal sneered, "Boy, aren't you a perceptive one?" He was about to make a horrid little comment, but one of the other Green Lanterns, something that looked more like a pony-got-mated-with-a-platypus that a human, came speeding up with an urgent message.

"Hal Jordan of Sector-"

"What?" He came in a little more harshly than intended.

The other cleared his/her/its' throat, "There is trouble in your quadrant. Attend to it."

Hal was gone with a short pop as the atmostphere of OA rushed in to fill his vacant spot.

Sometime later, he found himself floating over Earth. He'd checked everywhere he could think of, and yet, nothing. His ring still was going crazy, warning him of danger everytime he stopped.Something was off here. Something that looked an awful lot like...

.

Hawkman landed and looked around. He didn't see any ManHawks, and oddly enough, he didn't feel any heat from the flames that lapped up around an overturned car. Adjusting the red felt that kept falling into his eyes, he stamped one chicken-legged foot down on the ground, "Alright, show yourself-"

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"J'onn!"

The Martian appeared in the void of space, looking quite regal for all the mischief he'd obvious caused. "You called me, Hal Jordan?"

"You! I'll KILL you!" He formed a large green can of AlienOff and shook it.

"Come, now, you know that Shayera and myself had this planned long ago."

Hal tilted his head to one side, "How so?"

"I was only, of course, seeking revenge for the stunt you pulled at the party a few months ago..."

Hal stopped dead, "We, I- You were drunk, and I was probably drunk-er, and for the love of God, man, you took that all seriously?" J'onn quirked an eyebrow. "...Even the streaking?" He nodded. Hal whimpered.

.

Hawkgirl floated down on a breeze, grinning at her obviously lost partner, "Don't worry, Peacock, you're acctually a pretty good detective."

"Then, J'onn was behind it all?" His puzzled look was partially blocked by the red felt.

Hawkgirl casually flipped a switch which turned off the huge hologram. The burning cars and trees instantly dissapeared. "Give me some credit too, Karter. A girl needs it when it's due."

"But... Why you? Weren't you just as involved in the, uh... birthday incident as both me and Hal?"

"J'onn can't carry a grudge against a woman," she smirked, "and besides, I was able to make you come out here in that ridiculous outfit, wasn't I?" His look made her continue, "J'onn knew I'd be able to convince the both of you, or, force, rather, to keep up the chirade as if you were both enimies. The more your pride built up, the more it kept you going."

"So why not carry it on longer?"

"J'onn isn't cruel. And he insisted that I not be, either."

"Well, isn't that lucky for him," Hawkman said, pulling the chicken hood off his head, "to not be cruel. To leave you to my punishment."

"Uh, Karter, honey, Peacock... I'm just a messenger... You don't kill the messenger... right?"

"Not kill," his eyes glazed over, taking on a quite insane look, "just play with a bit."

"Kaaaarterrrr!"

.

Fin.