Chapter 7: How sweet it is to be loved by you . . .
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A/N: Bonjour a la nouveau chapitre de Zippy et Chunks! Nous sommes ici parce que nous aimons le Justice League, et nous sommes deux filles heureses quand nous ecrirons. Vous devrez preparer pour l'amour, l'action, et le betises de le sept personnes dans le Justice League.
Disclaimer: Yes, that was in French. If you are French, and I messed up, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. I haven't done very well in French. BUT I PASSED THE CLASS WITH A NICE 76%!!!! So no more French for me. Yes.
Oh yeah, we don't own it. The Justice League. That's not ours. So we don't own it. So don't sue us. Because we can't afford it. We spent all our money at the Renaissance Faire.
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"Yes J'Onn?"
"Can I come in?"
"Sure. I'm just talking to my mother on the videophone."
=Chunks: They have video phones on Thymescira? Zippy: They do now . . .=
"Oh. I see. I thought I heard someone in here. I was just making a final check before going to bed." The Martian replied.
"Nope, just me in here. Well, unless you could hear my mother from the hallway," Diana responded.
"That must have been it. Sorry to disturb you. I'm going to go to bed now."
"Oh, it's no disturbance, J'Onn. Goodnight!"
"Goodnight, Diana."
The Martian left the Amazon's room, but before going to his own lair he went to the bridge and flew up to a control room. It had no windows and no doors, and thus he was the only League member able to access it, as he could simply phase through the floor.
In his control tower he could focus on everyday problems without actually being a part of them. He could simply observe and analyze. To assist him in the observing he had installed a series of extremely small, though hi-tech, cameras throughout the Watchtower. He had one in each of the Leaguer's bedrooms, though placed in such a way that they did not record any shenanigans that might be occurring on the bed itself, only the half of the room that included the door. He liked to know who went in and out . . . . There were also cameras in the living room, kitchen, hallways, dining room, and docking bay. Bathrooms he left out, as that would be just a touch too pervy.
Every morning, noon, and night, J'Onn changed the discs that recorded Watchtower activity. He stored all of these micro-discs in an elaborate series of hidden rooms located in various places around the Watchtower. All he had to do was reach into these rooms and phase in and out the discs of his choice. Rather convenient, eh?
Once he had successfully changed and hidden the discs, he made his way to his room. He didn't really sleep. Instead, he organized all the remaining unsorted money he had won at previous poker games. After that he fell into a deep, relaxing meditation. He was never far from conciousness, however. Someone must always be watching the Watchers, and protecting them if need be. Such is the duty of a friend.
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THE NEXT MORNING:
"Bleeeaghhh. . . . ." "Arrouugh..." "Ach, ach, aarrhhh.."
Such were the signs of the heavy ralphing, currently occurring in the Kent bathroom. Lois was sprawled on the floor, her robe spread out around her and her fuzzy pink bunny slippers looking sympathetic. Ah, pregnancy.
Clark really was to blame for all of this. First off, he got her pregnant, obviously. Then, he goes and INDULGES her cravings for ice cream, which are his fault too, since they are a direct result of the pregnancy and THAT is ALL his fault. DAMN HIM.
She should just turn and puke all over him. Just because he was being nice enough to hold her hair back didn't excuse him from his actions. And he probably wasn't even thinking about her, much as she was pale and puking right in front of him.
**He is probably thinking of the Amazon. Her perfect skin, her glowing lasso, all serving to make her look even more spectacular in comparison to the vomitous little wifey! I'm the wife, after all! I snared Clark fair and square and he belongs to ME. Not some naïve and busty skank who walks around in little more than her underwear!**
"Lois, are you done?" Clark asked nicely, a sympathetic yet grossed-out expression on his face.
**Oh, of course. He is trying to leave. He wants to get back up in space with the bimbo. If I could only beat her up, I would. But with her MAJESTIC strength, what is a puny human woman to do? If only I could even up the score with Wonder Wench.**
"Lois, honey?"
"What."
"Are you . . . okay?"
". . . I'm just FINE, thank you SO much."
Lois got off the floor and washed off her face. She also partook of the mouthwash. Quite liberally. She then got out her toothbrush and began brushing with more toothpaste then was supposed to be used, but she felt the occasion demanded it.
Clark had stood up with her and he now released her raven hair onto her back and shoulders. "I have to go, honey."
Lois was silent, and her only acknowledgment of his words was her spitting into the sink. He sighed, then moved closer to her.
"I'll be back soon. I love you, Beautiful." He kissed her gently on the forehead and left.
The toothbrush clattered into the sink.
"I hope so," she whispered.
=A/N: we happen to be listening to "When a Man Loves a Woman." That is so darn appropriate that we are in "awww. . . . . ." mode.=
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AT WALL-TO-WALL MART (we yoinked that from Fairly Oddparents)
Diana was the one doing the perusing now. J'Onn pushed the cart behind her, and was pulling off some fancy steering to catch the food products that she occasionally chucked behind her. He was dressed to blend-in, sporting a very stylish cream turtleneck and dark brown coat, along with some khaki Dockers slacks. His shoes were brown, but his designer sunglasses were pitch black. All in all, he looked fairly classy. You could hardly see his green skin, especially because J'Onn had toned it down to a nice Latino color. Nevertheless, the pair was still quite conspicuous as Diana never forsakes her patriotic nightwear ensemble.
"This is taking much too long. Here, you take a basket and I will take the cart and we can split up. Take the Ethnic Food aisle. Hera knows how much Flash likes his ramen."
"Okay. . ."
AND THEY SPLIT UP, OFF TO FIGHT STARVATION IN THE FARTHEST REACHES OF FLASH'S STOMACH.
"Hmm. . .but does he like 'Teriyaki Beef,' 'Sweet and Sour Shrimp' or 'California Vegetable?'" the solemn green giant asked himself.
"Perhaps you should get all kinds. I like them all myself," commented a slightly fobby Asian chick. She was about twenty-three, maybe five foot two, but made about five foot six by her platform shoes. Her outfit (which involved a shirt that looked a tad ripped up, a SHORT mini-skirt, and some fishnets) made her look as though she had just escaped from a rave, even thought it was about ten in the morning. She had glow sticks in her hair, which also featured some LOVELY orange streaks in it. This caused some church-returned shoppers to give her some LOOKS. But she didn't really mind, as she was thoroughly engrossed in talking to the tall Latino HOTTIE in Dockers.
"Nice pants," she added.
"Um, thank you. And thank you for the advice."
"Oh no problem. My name is Onna Kitsune, what is yos?"
"My name is J'Onn. I have to go now, I'm sorry," the Martian-turned-Mexican replied.
"Oh, you shy one, huh? I like de shy ones. Can I see how shy you REALLY are?"
Oh, FLAGRANT flirting going on there. Does the Manhunter respond?
". . . Very well then." the Manhunter responded. Hey, lonely Martians have needs too, you know?
Perhaps he is a Womanhunter after all.
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AT THE CHECKOUT LINE
"Where on earth is J'Onn? I told him to meet me by the tabloids forty-five minutes ago!"
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AT THE WATCHTOWER
"It BURNS! IT BURNS!! AAAHHH!!!" Green Lantern screamed as Flashed dumped nail polish remover onto his forehead.
"Suck it up, GL," Flash tugged on his hand rather forcefully, the hand that, for whatever reason, had migrated from the top of the Gundam to the forehead of our favourite superhero in green and black. "I mean, if women can take this stuff all the time, you shouldn't be such a wimp about it."
GL frowned. "But women never put it near their EYES."
Flash blinked. "Good point. But anyway, I think it's working on the glue here. I've almost gotten this . . . thing," each syllable came out with a corresponding yank, ". . . off . . . your . . . head-ah!"
There was a distinct ripping sound, followed by a thud and two whimpers of pain, one coming from Flash (who had crashed into the wall on the other side of the room) and the other from Green Lantern (who now had a hand- shaped red mark and flaking glue-bits on his head). GL painfully made his way across the hall into the bathroom and attempted to scrub his face free of all the remaining glue.
Flash got up from the floor, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "You're welcome, man."
"Oh, yeah . . . thanks," the only truly 'ethnic' member of the Justice League said while carefully plucking little flakes of glue from his forehead with his fingers.
"Speaking of women," Flash began slyly, "does the big black man of the tower have any sweet ho's that he'd like to tell me about . . . eh?"
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."
"Oh reeeeaaally?" the fastest man alive's eyes grew wide behind his mask. "Spill."
GL's voice echoed a little apprehensively from the bathroom. "Well . . ."
"Okay, so what are we talking about here?" Flash sped into the loo and plopped himself onto the (closed) toilet. "Black, white, brown, red, yellow . . .?"
"Um. White . . . I think. I'm not completely sure. She's not from around here."
"Oh, a mix! Nice!"
"Yeah. I guess. She's kinda feisty too." GL added.
Flash grinned, "That's always nice. Grrrrr!" He motioned a cat-scratch. "She hot?"
"Very. A scorcher," smiled Green Lantern.
"Sounds like quite a little devil!" Flash said, intrigued.
"On the contrary, she can be quite an angel."
"Good. That's good. How can I help you score with the she-devil?"
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BACK AT THAT ONE STORE PLACE
J'Onn finally showed up at the tabloids with some crushed ramen noodles and his clothes in various stages of dishevelment.
"Sorry I'm late, Diana. I got lost."
"Right. . . .Didn't you have a belt?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Okay then. . ." The Amazon proceeded to pile the foodstuffs on the conveyer belt towards the cashier, all the while giving J'Onn some very suspicious looks.
The duo was walking towards their car (which was really a spacecraft but those poor innocent human bystanders don't need to know that. They would just panic and swarm or something) when Onna bounced out from behind an umbrella display (hey, they are both easy open! look at that!) and said, "Hey J'Onn! I found your belt!"
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BACK IN THE WATCHTOWER
Batman had noticed when GL and Flash were bouncing around upstairs, but he really didn't care. He was busy trying to figure out what was causing some heating ducts to malfunction. No one else knew he was in the Watchtower. He didn't like telling people things. He liked to keep things mysterious. Fewer questions from Flash that way.
He was still pondering Diana. He didn't really want to get close to her, as opening up to people always seemed to get them hurt. And, as much of a 'bad' boy he was, he really didn't like to hurt people. Look at Barbara Gordon: she used to be such a sweet girl, who only donned the cape and cowl as a Halloween costume. She didn't even need to become an avenger of the night; she just thought it was cool. And because of him, Joker took away her freedom (A/N: This is our own story. While we try to stay true to the new JL cartoon show, we take the liberty to try to include some comics and other animations and movies with it). And poor Nightwing. He hadn't meant to steal his sweetheart, or cause him all that grief. And even one of his Robins . . . he didn't even want to think about it (A/N: yeah, his life's crap. But that's why he has Diana, right?).
He didn't want to hurt Diana too.
"Are you going to help with the groceries or what?"
There she was, silhouetted in the doorframe again. **How does she always know where I am?**
He looked up. "Coming."
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ IN THAT BATHROOM . . . AGAIN.
"So when are you going to boink her?"
"WHAT?? I'm not going to 'BOINK' anyone!!"
"You know, rock the casbaa, make sweet love, get your groove on, shake what yo' mama gave ya, get some tit for tat, know her in the biblical sense, ride 'em cowboy, hop on the good foot and do the bad thing, slide on hom-"
"I'm not going to do any of that. I've got too much respect for her."
"Sure you do."
"I do!! I've seen her in action, and I trust her as much as I do any guy."
Flash rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's a lot better."
"No, that's not what I meant!" GL slammed his hand on the countertop. "I mean that I trust her as much as I trust you, or any other guy in the League."
Flash, for once and to his credit, had no witty comeback.
Green Lantern continued. "I've known her for a long time now, and I've worked along side her for years . . ."
Flash was thinking to himself, **. . . does he mean Diana? She's never seemed that angry to me . . .**
"But I don't know how I can talk to her or even approach her on the subject."
"You don't think that this chick feels the same way then?" Flash commented, kind of feeling for his superbro.
"Well, I don't think so."
"Then try being nice to her."
GL quirked a brow. "Because that's always worked for you, right?"
"Huh?"
"Nevermind," John shook it off. "I just can't get within mace-swing- radius."
Flash heard an odd ringing sound . . . like the world around him just came crashing down. "A-are . . . are you talking . . . about H-Hawkgirl?" he stuttered.
"Didn't you know about that?"
[Hawkgirl, sadly, makes no appearance in this chapter. She is off flying somewhere.]
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IN THE WATCHTOWER KITCHEN
J'Onn had gone off to his lair to shed his ÜBER-COOL street-clothes (hahaha) and don his more usual cape and lederhosen ensemble. Diana and, ahem, Bruce, were in the kitchen unpacking the groceries. The radio was on in the backround, playing cheesy romance songs. You know the station. It's the one that always has bad requests made for unmusical eighties hits.
Diana showed a small smile as she looked at Batman. Batman looked at her. With no emotion whatsoever. Great. . . .
The Amazon was attempting to put away a large bag full of oranges. She gave a small gasp as an orange fell out of her hand and onto the linoleum. She and Batman bent down at the same time to pick it up. Hey, would you notice what song is conveniently playing in the background? A fluke at the station: a song that is actually good! KCRP was playing The Righteous Brothers. You know that song. . . you know you do. . . . "you're my soul, and my heart's inspiration!" oh man that is a cool song.
So anyways, here they were in this surprisingly romantic setting. Face to face, inches apart, and good background music.
He picked up the orange with a gloved hand, and as they both stood up he put it in her hand. She looked down on it, silently, and the music in the background almost made the moment cheesy.
"You're my reason for laughin', for cryin', for livin', and for dyin'."
He pushed some hair out of her face with his other hand.
"BABY! I Can't Make It Without You!!"
His mouth opened and shut as if he wanted to say something very important, but just couldn't. He then strode out of the kitchen. A low rumble (a little like a Batjet) came from the docking bay. Diana leaned against the countertop and peeled her orange.
"Dammit."
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OUT KINDA IN SPACE A LITTLE BIT
Batman kept banging his head on the control panel of his Batjet. He tried to avoid the parts of the panel with the most buttons, but there were still airbags inflating and weird alarms going off. Bruce finally stopped and turned off the sirens and whatnot.
"Dammit," he sighed, and continued his decent towards Gotham.
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A/N: Así, el septo parte termina. ¿Les gusta la dramática? Batman tiene unos problemas con situacines románticas, ¿no? Pobre cito . . . Y ¿qué tal con la GL/Hawkgirl/Flash relación? ¿Quién duerme con Hawkgirl? ¿Sabremos? ¡Ay! Pues, Zippy y yo vamos a trabajar con el próximo parte, pero necesitamos sus reseñas. Si no tenemos sus reseñas, sentimos que ustedes no nos amen. Ustedes nos aman, ¿sí? ¡¿SI?!
=Chunks: I've got some mad Spanish skillz, eh?=
Real A/N: Kay guys, that was a pretty long chapter. ALL FOR YOU. And we are trying to make up for not posting for so long. But it is summer now! And I can go live at Chunk's house again! Woo hoo! So you should be getting some chapters again. That is, if you want them. REVIEW PEOPLE. Geez. No love. . . . Love me, love me! Say that you love me! Er, us . . .
Zippy: Vash is really hot. We should all watch Trigun. But what is Adult Swim doing to it? Keep moving him around. . . .
Chunks: Don't forget about Wolfwood! He gets dragged along with Vash too, you know . . . poor guy. Poor, hot, preacher in black . . . mmm . . . religious bishounen . . .
Zippy: Riiight . . .
Ed and Ein: =SQUEAK=
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A/N: Bonjour a la nouveau chapitre de Zippy et Chunks! Nous sommes ici parce que nous aimons le Justice League, et nous sommes deux filles heureses quand nous ecrirons. Vous devrez preparer pour l'amour, l'action, et le betises de le sept personnes dans le Justice League.
Disclaimer: Yes, that was in French. If you are French, and I messed up, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. I haven't done very well in French. BUT I PASSED THE CLASS WITH A NICE 76%!!!! So no more French for me. Yes.
Oh yeah, we don't own it. The Justice League. That's not ours. So we don't own it. So don't sue us. Because we can't afford it. We spent all our money at the Renaissance Faire.
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"Yes J'Onn?"
"Can I come in?"
"Sure. I'm just talking to my mother on the videophone."
=Chunks: They have video phones on Thymescira? Zippy: They do now . . .=
"Oh. I see. I thought I heard someone in here. I was just making a final check before going to bed." The Martian replied.
"Nope, just me in here. Well, unless you could hear my mother from the hallway," Diana responded.
"That must have been it. Sorry to disturb you. I'm going to go to bed now."
"Oh, it's no disturbance, J'Onn. Goodnight!"
"Goodnight, Diana."
The Martian left the Amazon's room, but before going to his own lair he went to the bridge and flew up to a control room. It had no windows and no doors, and thus he was the only League member able to access it, as he could simply phase through the floor.
In his control tower he could focus on everyday problems without actually being a part of them. He could simply observe and analyze. To assist him in the observing he had installed a series of extremely small, though hi-tech, cameras throughout the Watchtower. He had one in each of the Leaguer's bedrooms, though placed in such a way that they did not record any shenanigans that might be occurring on the bed itself, only the half of the room that included the door. He liked to know who went in and out . . . . There were also cameras in the living room, kitchen, hallways, dining room, and docking bay. Bathrooms he left out, as that would be just a touch too pervy.
Every morning, noon, and night, J'Onn changed the discs that recorded Watchtower activity. He stored all of these micro-discs in an elaborate series of hidden rooms located in various places around the Watchtower. All he had to do was reach into these rooms and phase in and out the discs of his choice. Rather convenient, eh?
Once he had successfully changed and hidden the discs, he made his way to his room. He didn't really sleep. Instead, he organized all the remaining unsorted money he had won at previous poker games. After that he fell into a deep, relaxing meditation. He was never far from conciousness, however. Someone must always be watching the Watchers, and protecting them if need be. Such is the duty of a friend.
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THE NEXT MORNING:
"Bleeeaghhh. . . . ." "Arrouugh..." "Ach, ach, aarrhhh.."
Such were the signs of the heavy ralphing, currently occurring in the Kent bathroom. Lois was sprawled on the floor, her robe spread out around her and her fuzzy pink bunny slippers looking sympathetic. Ah, pregnancy.
Clark really was to blame for all of this. First off, he got her pregnant, obviously. Then, he goes and INDULGES her cravings for ice cream, which are his fault too, since they are a direct result of the pregnancy and THAT is ALL his fault. DAMN HIM.
She should just turn and puke all over him. Just because he was being nice enough to hold her hair back didn't excuse him from his actions. And he probably wasn't even thinking about her, much as she was pale and puking right in front of him.
**He is probably thinking of the Amazon. Her perfect skin, her glowing lasso, all serving to make her look even more spectacular in comparison to the vomitous little wifey! I'm the wife, after all! I snared Clark fair and square and he belongs to ME. Not some naïve and busty skank who walks around in little more than her underwear!**
"Lois, are you done?" Clark asked nicely, a sympathetic yet grossed-out expression on his face.
**Oh, of course. He is trying to leave. He wants to get back up in space with the bimbo. If I could only beat her up, I would. But with her MAJESTIC strength, what is a puny human woman to do? If only I could even up the score with Wonder Wench.**
"Lois, honey?"
"What."
"Are you . . . okay?"
". . . I'm just FINE, thank you SO much."
Lois got off the floor and washed off her face. She also partook of the mouthwash. Quite liberally. She then got out her toothbrush and began brushing with more toothpaste then was supposed to be used, but she felt the occasion demanded it.
Clark had stood up with her and he now released her raven hair onto her back and shoulders. "I have to go, honey."
Lois was silent, and her only acknowledgment of his words was her spitting into the sink. He sighed, then moved closer to her.
"I'll be back soon. I love you, Beautiful." He kissed her gently on the forehead and left.
The toothbrush clattered into the sink.
"I hope so," she whispered.
=A/N: we happen to be listening to "When a Man Loves a Woman." That is so darn appropriate that we are in "awww. . . . . ." mode.=
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AT WALL-TO-WALL MART (we yoinked that from Fairly Oddparents)
Diana was the one doing the perusing now. J'Onn pushed the cart behind her, and was pulling off some fancy steering to catch the food products that she occasionally chucked behind her. He was dressed to blend-in, sporting a very stylish cream turtleneck and dark brown coat, along with some khaki Dockers slacks. His shoes were brown, but his designer sunglasses were pitch black. All in all, he looked fairly classy. You could hardly see his green skin, especially because J'Onn had toned it down to a nice Latino color. Nevertheless, the pair was still quite conspicuous as Diana never forsakes her patriotic nightwear ensemble.
"This is taking much too long. Here, you take a basket and I will take the cart and we can split up. Take the Ethnic Food aisle. Hera knows how much Flash likes his ramen."
"Okay. . ."
AND THEY SPLIT UP, OFF TO FIGHT STARVATION IN THE FARTHEST REACHES OF FLASH'S STOMACH.
"Hmm. . .but does he like 'Teriyaki Beef,' 'Sweet and Sour Shrimp' or 'California Vegetable?'" the solemn green giant asked himself.
"Perhaps you should get all kinds. I like them all myself," commented a slightly fobby Asian chick. She was about twenty-three, maybe five foot two, but made about five foot six by her platform shoes. Her outfit (which involved a shirt that looked a tad ripped up, a SHORT mini-skirt, and some fishnets) made her look as though she had just escaped from a rave, even thought it was about ten in the morning. She had glow sticks in her hair, which also featured some LOVELY orange streaks in it. This caused some church-returned shoppers to give her some LOOKS. But she didn't really mind, as she was thoroughly engrossed in talking to the tall Latino HOTTIE in Dockers.
"Nice pants," she added.
"Um, thank you. And thank you for the advice."
"Oh no problem. My name is Onna Kitsune, what is yos?"
"My name is J'Onn. I have to go now, I'm sorry," the Martian-turned-Mexican replied.
"Oh, you shy one, huh? I like de shy ones. Can I see how shy you REALLY are?"
Oh, FLAGRANT flirting going on there. Does the Manhunter respond?
". . . Very well then." the Manhunter responded. Hey, lonely Martians have needs too, you know?
Perhaps he is a Womanhunter after all.
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AT THE CHECKOUT LINE
"Where on earth is J'Onn? I told him to meet me by the tabloids forty-five minutes ago!"
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AT THE WATCHTOWER
"It BURNS! IT BURNS!! AAAHHH!!!" Green Lantern screamed as Flashed dumped nail polish remover onto his forehead.
"Suck it up, GL," Flash tugged on his hand rather forcefully, the hand that, for whatever reason, had migrated from the top of the Gundam to the forehead of our favourite superhero in green and black. "I mean, if women can take this stuff all the time, you shouldn't be such a wimp about it."
GL frowned. "But women never put it near their EYES."
Flash blinked. "Good point. But anyway, I think it's working on the glue here. I've almost gotten this . . . thing," each syllable came out with a corresponding yank, ". . . off . . . your . . . head-ah!"
There was a distinct ripping sound, followed by a thud and two whimpers of pain, one coming from Flash (who had crashed into the wall on the other side of the room) and the other from Green Lantern (who now had a hand- shaped red mark and flaking glue-bits on his head). GL painfully made his way across the hall into the bathroom and attempted to scrub his face free of all the remaining glue.
Flash got up from the floor, rubbing the back of his head gingerly. "You're welcome, man."
"Oh, yeah . . . thanks," the only truly 'ethnic' member of the Justice League said while carefully plucking little flakes of glue from his forehead with his fingers.
"Speaking of women," Flash began slyly, "does the big black man of the tower have any sweet ho's that he'd like to tell me about . . . eh?"
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."
"Oh reeeeaaally?" the fastest man alive's eyes grew wide behind his mask. "Spill."
GL's voice echoed a little apprehensively from the bathroom. "Well . . ."
"Okay, so what are we talking about here?" Flash sped into the loo and plopped himself onto the (closed) toilet. "Black, white, brown, red, yellow . . .?"
"Um. White . . . I think. I'm not completely sure. She's not from around here."
"Oh, a mix! Nice!"
"Yeah. I guess. She's kinda feisty too." GL added.
Flash grinned, "That's always nice. Grrrrr!" He motioned a cat-scratch. "She hot?"
"Very. A scorcher," smiled Green Lantern.
"Sounds like quite a little devil!" Flash said, intrigued.
"On the contrary, she can be quite an angel."
"Good. That's good. How can I help you score with the she-devil?"
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BACK AT THAT ONE STORE PLACE
J'Onn finally showed up at the tabloids with some crushed ramen noodles and his clothes in various stages of dishevelment.
"Sorry I'm late, Diana. I got lost."
"Right. . . .Didn't you have a belt?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"Okay then. . ." The Amazon proceeded to pile the foodstuffs on the conveyer belt towards the cashier, all the while giving J'Onn some very suspicious looks.
The duo was walking towards their car (which was really a spacecraft but those poor innocent human bystanders don't need to know that. They would just panic and swarm or something) when Onna bounced out from behind an umbrella display (hey, they are both easy open! look at that!) and said, "Hey J'Onn! I found your belt!"
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BACK IN THE WATCHTOWER
Batman had noticed when GL and Flash were bouncing around upstairs, but he really didn't care. He was busy trying to figure out what was causing some heating ducts to malfunction. No one else knew he was in the Watchtower. He didn't like telling people things. He liked to keep things mysterious. Fewer questions from Flash that way.
He was still pondering Diana. He didn't really want to get close to her, as opening up to people always seemed to get them hurt. And, as much of a 'bad' boy he was, he really didn't like to hurt people. Look at Barbara Gordon: she used to be such a sweet girl, who only donned the cape and cowl as a Halloween costume. She didn't even need to become an avenger of the night; she just thought it was cool. And because of him, Joker took away her freedom (A/N: This is our own story. While we try to stay true to the new JL cartoon show, we take the liberty to try to include some comics and other animations and movies with it). And poor Nightwing. He hadn't meant to steal his sweetheart, or cause him all that grief. And even one of his Robins . . . he didn't even want to think about it (A/N: yeah, his life's crap. But that's why he has Diana, right?).
He didn't want to hurt Diana too.
"Are you going to help with the groceries or what?"
There she was, silhouetted in the doorframe again. **How does she always know where I am?**
He looked up. "Coming."
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^ IN THAT BATHROOM . . . AGAIN.
"So when are you going to boink her?"
"WHAT?? I'm not going to 'BOINK' anyone!!"
"You know, rock the casbaa, make sweet love, get your groove on, shake what yo' mama gave ya, get some tit for tat, know her in the biblical sense, ride 'em cowboy, hop on the good foot and do the bad thing, slide on hom-"
"I'm not going to do any of that. I've got too much respect for her."
"Sure you do."
"I do!! I've seen her in action, and I trust her as much as I do any guy."
Flash rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's a lot better."
"No, that's not what I meant!" GL slammed his hand on the countertop. "I mean that I trust her as much as I trust you, or any other guy in the League."
Flash, for once and to his credit, had no witty comeback.
Green Lantern continued. "I've known her for a long time now, and I've worked along side her for years . . ."
Flash was thinking to himself, **. . . does he mean Diana? She's never seemed that angry to me . . .**
"But I don't know how I can talk to her or even approach her on the subject."
"You don't think that this chick feels the same way then?" Flash commented, kind of feeling for his superbro.
"Well, I don't think so."
"Then try being nice to her."
GL quirked a brow. "Because that's always worked for you, right?"
"Huh?"
"Nevermind," John shook it off. "I just can't get within mace-swing- radius."
Flash heard an odd ringing sound . . . like the world around him just came crashing down. "A-are . . . are you talking . . . about H-Hawkgirl?" he stuttered.
"Didn't you know about that?"
[Hawkgirl, sadly, makes no appearance in this chapter. She is off flying somewhere.]
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IN THE WATCHTOWER KITCHEN
J'Onn had gone off to his lair to shed his ÜBER-COOL street-clothes (hahaha) and don his more usual cape and lederhosen ensemble. Diana and, ahem, Bruce, were in the kitchen unpacking the groceries. The radio was on in the backround, playing cheesy romance songs. You know the station. It's the one that always has bad requests made for unmusical eighties hits.
Diana showed a small smile as she looked at Batman. Batman looked at her. With no emotion whatsoever. Great. . . .
The Amazon was attempting to put away a large bag full of oranges. She gave a small gasp as an orange fell out of her hand and onto the linoleum. She and Batman bent down at the same time to pick it up. Hey, would you notice what song is conveniently playing in the background? A fluke at the station: a song that is actually good! KCRP was playing The Righteous Brothers. You know that song. . . you know you do. . . . "you're my soul, and my heart's inspiration!" oh man that is a cool song.
So anyways, here they were in this surprisingly romantic setting. Face to face, inches apart, and good background music.
He picked up the orange with a gloved hand, and as they both stood up he put it in her hand. She looked down on it, silently, and the music in the background almost made the moment cheesy.
"You're my reason for laughin', for cryin', for livin', and for dyin'."
He pushed some hair out of her face with his other hand.
"BABY! I Can't Make It Without You!!"
His mouth opened and shut as if he wanted to say something very important, but just couldn't. He then strode out of the kitchen. A low rumble (a little like a Batjet) came from the docking bay. Diana leaned against the countertop and peeled her orange.
"Dammit."
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OUT KINDA IN SPACE A LITTLE BIT
Batman kept banging his head on the control panel of his Batjet. He tried to avoid the parts of the panel with the most buttons, but there were still airbags inflating and weird alarms going off. Bruce finally stopped and turned off the sirens and whatnot.
"Dammit," he sighed, and continued his decent towards Gotham.
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A/N: Así, el septo parte termina. ¿Les gusta la dramática? Batman tiene unos problemas con situacines románticas, ¿no? Pobre cito . . . Y ¿qué tal con la GL/Hawkgirl/Flash relación? ¿Quién duerme con Hawkgirl? ¿Sabremos? ¡Ay! Pues, Zippy y yo vamos a trabajar con el próximo parte, pero necesitamos sus reseñas. Si no tenemos sus reseñas, sentimos que ustedes no nos amen. Ustedes nos aman, ¿sí? ¡¿SI?!
=Chunks: I've got some mad Spanish skillz, eh?=
Real A/N: Kay guys, that was a pretty long chapter. ALL FOR YOU. And we are trying to make up for not posting for so long. But it is summer now! And I can go live at Chunk's house again! Woo hoo! So you should be getting some chapters again. That is, if you want them. REVIEW PEOPLE. Geez. No love. . . . Love me, love me! Say that you love me! Er, us . . .
Zippy: Vash is really hot. We should all watch Trigun. But what is Adult Swim doing to it? Keep moving him around. . . .
Chunks: Don't forget about Wolfwood! He gets dragged along with Vash too, you know . . . poor guy. Poor, hot, preacher in black . . . mmm . . . religious bishounen . . .
Zippy: Riiight . . .
Ed and Ein: =SQUEAK=