After agreeing that the Amazonian legal code left something to be desired, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, and the Flash went their separate ways. GL headed for the bathroom for that shower. Hawkgirl went to her quarters to get dressed ("although it wouldn't bother me if you didn't," Flash said, whereupon she swung her mace at him and he dodged.) The Flash zipped over to the kitchen to fuel his high-speed metabolism.

He had just skidded to a stop in the doorway when he saw Wonder Woman sitting at the metallic kitchen table, her eyes downcast as she cupped her chin in her hand, leaning on the table and idling tracing shapes in the light coating of flour left over from some baking attempt. Flash took one look at the scene and bolted back down the hall, leaving only a red blur and a rush of air to indicate he had been there at all.

Brave man, Wally, he thought as he leaned back against the wall of a corridor a quarter of a mile away from the kitchen. You're just going to avoid your teammate for the rest of your life? Make sure that you're twenty feet away from her at all times on your next mission? Batman will love that . . .

"Well, maybe just for a couple days, till she gets most of the weepy stuff out of her system," he told himself. "Anyway, you didn't see Bats sticking around."

Well, of course he didn't stick around. No matter what J'onn says, you KNOW he's an emotional popsicle. Remember that looks he got when Superman left those Hallmark cards with the little poems in them lying around? His mouth tightened at the corner and his eyes narrowed--

"And he gave Superman a bat-glare and the Man of Steel didn't even know why. Heh. Classic." The Flash smiled reminiscently.

So when did you end up in the same boat as the big, bad Bat? Avoiding your teammates because they have--oh dear God, not that!--emotions? C'mon.

"I'm not avoiding her, I'm giving her space," he told himself.

The same way people gave you space after Barry died?

The Flash bowed his head, obscuring the lightning bolt symbol on his chest with a red-clad arm as he absently gripped his left should with his right hand. "Uncle Barry . . ."

He died saving the world--hell, the whole universe--and no one would talk about him with you. Not even after you claimed the costume. Especially after you claimed the costume.

"Probably upset that I took the silly little wings off the boots," Flash muttered, watching the tips of the flexible yellow boots move as he wiggled his toes.

Look, if she doesn't want company, why is she sitting in the kitchen? It's not like she's in her quarters or a broom closet--it's the KITCHEN! Just go over there and say something. If she wants to be alone, she'll let you know. And at least she won't let you know by swinging a big stick at you like Hawkgirl would.

"Hawkgirl and her stick," Flash mused. "I wonder if she has a license for that thing."

Without further ado, he sped through the halls. Exactly .059 seconds had elapsed since he'd first run from the kitchen. Diana hadn't moved.

This time Flash zipped right into the kitchen, skidding to a stop in front of Wonder Woman. "Hey, princess!"

She looked up at him, surprised by the sudden red blur, then abruptly looked off to the side, biting her lip.

The Flash suddenly thought of something. "Um . . . I mean . . . I know that you're probably technically not a princess anymore, I just meant . . . That is to say, I didn't think . . . erm . . . yeah, didn't think sounds about right," he finished lamely, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah . . . sorry."

Wonder Woman forced a small smile as she turned her eyes to him. "It is . . . okay, Flash. I was . . . I was just sitting here. Thinking."

"About Themis-whatsis?" he asked, simultaneously pulling most of the contents of the fridge out for a sandwich. Well, technically sandwiches.

"Themyscira. Yes." She sighed.

"Well, for the record . . . I think all of us pretty much agree that what they did really sucked. Banishing you like that, I mean."

"Oh. 'Sucked.' Um." She looked at the table. "While I appreciate your concern, you have to understand . . . I did break one of our most ancient and sacred laws. So my mother . . . so the queen cannot be blamed for acting as she did."

The Flash paused to look at her, then focused on the refrigerator. "Can I give you some advice, pr--Diana?"

"Oh," She sounded a little surprised. "Certainly, Flash."

He rummaged through the vegetable drawer. "Don't be so noble all the time."

"What?"

"Don't be so noble," he repeated, straightening. "Look, you're brave and truthful and fair and everything, and I appreciate that. Really. But come on . . . can you honestly say that you don't feel pissed off? At your mom? At your 'sisters'?"

"Why would I be?" she asked, a defensive note creeping into her voice.

"WHY? You saved their bacon and they booted you out! Can you really say that doesn't make you angry? Truthfully?"

She had stood, frowning, halfway through his speech, ready to reply, but she slowly sank back into her chair at the last word. The Amazon fingered her golden lasso. "To feel anger for something which they cannot help, for edicts which they are prescribed to follow, would be unfair."

"Oh, gee, not that!" Flash rolled his eyes, not that anyone would be able to tell through his blank-eyed mask. "That's exactly what I'm talking about, Diana."

She looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it's okay to feel like that when you're . . . when you're hurting. Okay, it's unfair--well, so what?"

"So what?" Wonder Woman did stand now, with her hands on her hips. "You think that it's all right to . . . to blame people unjustly? To hold them accountable for things they have no control over?"

"Hey, don't get your stars in a spangle, pr--Diana." He frowned. "I'm saying that you're going to do it whether you admit it or not. 'Cause you're angry."

"What makes you think I'm angry?" She held her head high as she tossed her black tresses back.

"Well, you're standing here shouting at me, for one thing--"

"I am not--!" she took a deep breath and lowered her voice a decibel. "I am not shouting."

"But you are angry."

She didn't say anything.

"Aren't you?" he added with smug surety.

She crossed her arms.

"Just hold your magic dental floss and tell me you're not angry with your mom and I'll drop the whole thing right now."

She looked away. "I shouldn't be angry."

"But you are."

Pause. "Yes."

Flash didn't say anything right away; he was putting together a beautiful sandwich piled high with lunch meat and mayonnaise and anything else he had been able to slap between two pieces of bread. "Did you know I'm not the first Flash?"

"You aren't?" Her voice was cautious. She didn't know where he was headed with this.

"Nah. I used to be a sidekick, actually. Kid Flash--fastest kid alive!" He gave her a lopsided grin. "My Uncle Barry was the rea--was the previous Flash."

"Your uncle? It's a family tradition, then?"

"I dunno. I guess it is now. Yeah, Uncle Barry. Man, I just idolized him. I would've done anything for him. To make him proud." The Flash pushed a chair to the table and sat in it backwards, straddling it as he took a dreamy bite of his sandwich. "He died."

"Oh. I'm . . . I'm sorry to hear that."

Flash didn't seem to hear. "He died saving the universe. Literally. Everyone out there--everything alive--they all owe it to Barry." He popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and brushed the crumbs off his red gloves. "We only ever found the empty costume. No body. I kind of took it as, y'know, a sign. I wanted people to remember him. The Flash. The Fastest Man Alive. So I took up the cowl, silly golden wings and all. Not the exact same one," he added parenthetically. "I mean, wearing a dead guy's clothes--that would've been kind of gross. Ewwww."

"I suppose," Wonder Woman agreed. "I truly am sorry about--"

"But do you know, when he first died, what I felt, more than anything else?" he asked, absently pinching together a few leftover crumbs. "I was really, really angry with Barry."

"Well, I'm sure that--wait, what?" Wonder Woman stared with wide blue eyes.

"Yeah. Just furious. I just kept thinking, how dare he die? I thought, if he really cared, he wouldn't have left me all alone with this . . . this honkin' big legacy to uphold. I just kept thinking, hey, he could've survived if he'd really wanted to. Because I always believed Uncle Barry could do anything. I mean, he was the Flash!"

The fastest man alive paused with half a smile on his face, as though it had forgotten to vacate. "But at the same time I felt all guilty because, y'know, I really loved my uncle and he was a hero and here I was thinking these horrible things about him after he'd saved me. Saved everyone. But Diana--" he raised his head. "I needed to be angry. Not forever . . . but for a while. It took me a while to figure it out--heck, I know I'm not the brightest bulb in the hardware store--but I finally realized that the more I tried to shove all that negativity down into the depths of my mind, the more I tried to pretend it wasn't there, the stronger it got. So finally I just said, 'Well, screw this' and I eased up and let myself be angry and unfair and just . . . let it out. And then I got over it. You know?"

She looked at him, then smiled uncertainly. "Perhaps . . . I am beginning to know . . ."

"Well, that's good." The Flash smiled.

Wonder Woman sat straight up in her chair, looking ahead at nothing in particular. "My mother," she said in clear, dulcet tones, "is the world's biggest bitch."

"Uh . . . okay, good start."

"How DARE she have the gall to banish me after all I went through on her behalf? I wouldn't have needed to summon my teammates at all if she hadn't slept around with Hades to begin with!"

"Erm . . . right."

"What on earth did she see in him to begin with? Shouldn't seeing 'god of the underworld' listed as his current occupation have tipped her off that he was perhaps not suitable material for a 'boyfriend'? And another thing--"

Flash finally figured out that Wonder Woman wasn't paying the least bit of attention to him; he edged out the door, feeling a mixture of satisfaction and apprehension and hoping he'd done the right thing.

"Well, she does need to get her feelings out," he told himself. "Even if I wasn't expecting her to start letting them out so . . . abruptly."

Nevertheless, he felt a sense of foreboding as one last, satisfied sentence floated down the hall before he sped away:

"And may Zeus strike me down if she's a natural blonde!"