"Fallen Angels"
Disclaimer: I own no one.
Rating: PG-13 for the usual stuff. (coughs)
Spoilers: Through "Initiation"
Pairings: Wouldn't you like to know?
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Chapter 5:
"You wouldn't mind loaning me a cigarette, would you?"
The brown-eyed guy next to the stunning redhead sent a smile and handed her one of his cigarettes. "Need a light?" he asked and lifted his lighter.
With thankful green eyes, she allowed him to light her up, and blew out the smoke. Although she knew there were tons of unhealthy chemicals mixed in with the tobacco, she didn't really care.
It was something that could calm her down.
"You new in town?"
"What makes you ask?"
"I haven't seen you here before."
"Oh." She propped her elbows on the bar table and tousled her auburn strands. "Let's just say I'm visiting an old friend."
"Can I buy you a drink?"
"Sure. Miller Genuine Draft, if they've got it." As he ordered her the beer, she almost smiled to herself. Men were easy to control with good looks and a flirtatious smile; they always seemed to be the nicest when they thought they'd get into a girl's pants.
That made her want to laugh.
The bartender set the bottle down in front of her, and she thanked him. After taking a swig of her beer, the beauty shifted in her seat and winced in pain. The area above her pelvis was still sore.
"Excuse me for a moment." She hopped off the barstool, with her bottle, and walked over to the ladies' room. When she was sure she was alone in the room, she locked the door, set her bottle on the sink, put out her cigarette, and unbuttoned her jeans.
The tattoo she had gotten just an hour ago was still red, and she figured it would be for at least a couple of days. It was the Green Lantern symbol over a pair of hawk wings; she got it to remind herself of the love, trust, and unity she had lost because of her poor decisions.
Shayera Hol lifted her eyes from her tattoo and zipped her pants. She glanced in the broken mirror and let down her long hair.
With the money Bruce Wayne had left in an envelope by her bed, she had purchased two things: a tattoo and a pair of scissors.
The Thanagarian grabbed her hair and cut it where it met her shoulders. After tossing the extra hair in the trash, she continued shaping her hair into something more manageable and proper for a lady to wear. Soon enough, her long and wispy bangs had returned, and the other strands ended at the base of her neck.
When she was done, she studied herself with approval.
She looked older.
And she looked human.
She was no longer Shayera Hol. She was Sara Hall, weapons expert from the Midway City Museum. Sara was dating billionaire Bruce Wayne of Gotham City...
Starting tomorrow.
Tonight, she'd be free. She'll drink, smoke, fight, dance, cut her hair, and just...
Be herself.
Or as close to herself as she possibly could get.
Sara ruffled her wavy auburn hair and threw the scissors in the trash. After swallowing half of the Miller Draft, she dumped the rest and let the bottle join her hair and scissors in the garbage.
Without the cute guy noticing, she slipped out of the drafty bar and onto the dark streets of Gotham.
To her surprise, Dick Grayson was leaning against his motorcycle, holding his helmet in his hands, and most likely waiting for her. He gave a thin grin and tapped the seat on his cycle. After he handed her his spare, Dick pulled his own helmet on. Without speaking, the duo hopped onto his bike.
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"What the hell do you think you were doing?" Bruce demanded furiously. "I told you that we were expected for dinner."
"Sorry, but I didn't feel like going." Shayera crossed her arms over her chest and returned the same glare he was giving her. "I just wanted to be alone for a little while."
"Do you not realize that this is not about you? I recruited you for this mission thinking you wouldn't have trouble following orders, that –"
"I was going to play good little soldier? Do you not have the invasion as a footnote in your analyses and reports about me? I'm not one to follow orders."
"Quit using the past as an excuse."
"Don't act as if you don't use yours the same way." Instantly, Shayera regretted ever speaking. Bruce could tell.
She had struck a nerve, and she knew it too.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –"
"Don't worry about it." Bruce turned his back to his former teammate and started for the grandfather clock.
"Listen, I admit that I was nervous about the whole date thing."
He stopped walking and slowly turned to face her.
"I've been alone for the past year. I had no contact with anyone, not a soul. Then you snuck back into my meaningless life and brought Alfred and Tim with you... Before I knew it, I was having dinner with five other people, some of which I had never met. Now you want me to be in a room with forty or fifty people? It just seemed so quick."
"I didn't give you time to adjust."
Shayera took a couple of steps toward him, lessening the distance between their forms to three feet. "It's not your fault. It's my own. Like you said, this isn't about me. I have to get over these insecurities."
Bruce allowed his blue eyes to soften slightly. "You stay in tonight. I'll have Nightwing cover your end of the city."
"That's not necessary, Bruce."
"Yes it is. Goodnight, Shayera."
"Before you go, could you shut the disruptor off?"
He nodded, and she turned around. After lifting her green shirt, Bruce slipped his hand beneath her bra and touched the invisible device. Instantly, her wings returned unharmed, and he left for his still cave.
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"What would your family say if they knew you were sleeping with an alien?"
John sat up in bed and wrinkled his forehead. "What kind of a question is that?"
"I don't know." Shy followed his example but pulled the covers to her chest. "A real one?"
"You know that doesn't matter to me."
"Oh yeah. I forgot about Katma. I guess I'm not your first." She let out a bitter laugh that he, unfortunately, recognized all too easily.
It was one of jealousy, and it made him chuckle.
"Okay, if origin isn't an issue, what about skin tone? I mean, I'm probably as white as they come. Red hair, green eyes..."
"Does it bother you?" he asked, almost roughly, and touched her hand.
"No. Not at all. I suppose that's part of what attracted me to you, John Stewart." She leaned in toward him and lightly kissed his cheek. "We don't have dark-skinned men on Thanagar."
He narrowed his glowing eyes and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm your first, aren't I? Alien, I mean."
"Yeah. You are."
They never spoke of that topic again. It was a subject that they believed was left better untouched.
Shayera sat in her bed, alone, staring out her open terrace doors. The moon shone brightly into her room, but the night hadn't managed to settle her thoughts.
She missed John.
A knock sounded at her door, and she quickly wrapped the sheets around her nightgown-clad body. "Who is it?"
"It is I, Miss Hol. I brought you a nice pot of tea."
"Thank you. Come in, Alfred."
The kind butler stepped into her room, leaving the door slightly ajar, and came to her bedside. He set the tray down on the nightstand and pulled a chair to her bedside. To Shy's surprise, he had brought two saucers and teacups along with the small kettle.
"You don't mind my joining, Miss?"
"Of course not."
"I do hope you are fond of chamomile. It happens to be one of my favorites and one of the most soothing." The white-haired man carefully poured the delicious tea and handed Shayera her cup. "If you don't mind my prying, I would like to know if you found what you had been searching for on your small escapade in the city."
The redhead slightly laughed and sipped her hot liquid. With a shake of her head, she answered, "No. I didn't. I didn't find either of the things I was looking for."
Alfred nodded, but she knew he wanted to know what she was referring to.
"John doesn't live in Gotham, so finding him is out of the question. Anyway, I don't plan on ever finding him, even if I want to see him again. It's better for him if I stay away from him."
"And the other lost item, Miss?"
"Well, that would happen to be Shayera Hol of Thanagar. I don't know if she even exists anymore. I think I single-handedly murdered all of my identities. I'm not a lieutenant. I'm not a hero. I'm no one's true love. I'm no one's fiancé. I'm... I'm just really lost."
Alfred gave a sympathetic grin. "Perhaps having Batman to guide you through this dark time is more of a blessing than a curse. After all, he's had practice in maneuvering through the shadows of both the mind and reality."
"Maybe."
"Maybe is correct. Now, finish your tea and get some rest."
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A/N: Sorry that this chapter was so short! I know they've all been small, but that's the setup for the events that are coming up when Bruce and "Sara" travel to Metropolis for Luthor's banquet. The fun begins when they fun into a few reporters, one of which didn't know Shayera was coming...
Thanks so much!