"Super intuition - check," Batman said as they raced toward Flash's room. They had been hoping he would open the door himself, but by the time he had noticed a problem, the pressure difference was already to great for his waning strength.

They had seen the real-time feed from Flash's quarters. They saw Flash struggle to open the door and claw at his throat. Just before he collapsed from lack of oxygen, something flitted across his face. Batman had seen that look before. Shoot, most of the time, he was the one who caused the realization of one's own impending death. That's when they took off.

Superman touched the door. "Stand back," he told Batman.

Superman heard Batman's intake of breath as he braced himself. His super fingers sunk into the metal of the door and he pulled the whole thing off its track.

The micro-fractures had spread to macro-fractures as the vacuum of space began claiming things from Flash's room. Flash himself was skidding along the floor toward the far wall, and Superman grabbed him and his crutches (and inadvertently the gorilla plush which happened to be caught on the latter).

No sooner had he gotten a hold of Flash did three fractures meet and an entire chunk of the wall was pulled away. Batman was nearly pried from his bracing as the full force of space was in effect. When the Watchtower security system finally picked up on the problem, a force shield was place in the doorway, and the entire room behind it broke away and disappeared, carrying everything left that Flash owned into oblivion.

"Jeez," Superman said. "Flash is not going to be happy when he wakes up."

Wouldn't you know it? Superman was right.

"You mean my place on Earth is spread over four square miles of the city, my place up here is . . . isn't, and all I have left is this stupid monkey?"

Yeah, Superman was really right.

"That's a gorilla," Batman said.

"That doesn't help!"

"Gorilla's aren't good luck for you, are they?" Lantern asked.

Flash gestured. (19)

"We'll set up a place for you," Superman assured. Flash's stomach growled loudly to make sure he wasn't forgotten. He still hadn't been filled. "In the meantime, why don't you and Lantern go down and eat something?"

"While the adults take care of things up here?" Flash asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Let it alone," Lantern advised.

Flash did, but he wasn't happy about it, and a bottom lip jutted out to show everyone just how he felt.

Green Lantern brought Flash down to Earth courtesy of his ring, and took him to a little place he knew. Unfortunately, that little place was closed, forcing them to find something else. In the process, they had to cross a street. Guess what.

"Yoink," Lantern said, and yoinked Flash out of the way of a runaway taxi. "We're going to this diner right here," he decided aloud. "You don't need to spend any unnecessary time down here where you can get trampled by elephants or something."

Lantern put Flash on the ground and Flash looked at the prospective eatery. (20)

"I haven't heard such good things about this place," he complained.

"Elephants," Green Lantern repeated, and dragged Flash into the diner, plopping him down at a booth. By the time Flash had uttered his, "Ugh," of disgust at the establishment, the waitress was right there, her eye on Green Lantern.

"What can I get for ya?" she asked Lantern as Flash scoured the menu.

"I want the ham, and spice it up a little, huh?" Flash answered.

"Chevy Chase on white, and make him burn!" the waitress called halfheartedly. "How about you, sugar?" She smacked her gum as if it was supposed to be attractive or something. Ain't nothin' sexier than a big wad of sugar been coated in someone else's saliva and mucous and making noises so annoying you want to rip out all your hair, I'll tell you that right now.

"They should work on their diner lingo," Flash mused under his breath.

"I'm not eating here. Are you crazy?" Lantern said, and got a very dirty look from Flash.

"You watchin' yer figure?" she asked with a lilt. "'Cause I am."

"That's great; could you get him his sandwich?" Lantern asked impatiently. She winked and twitched her nose, then walked toward the kitchen.

"I think someone likes you," Flash gibed.

"Shut up."

Flash made kissy noises toward Green Lantern. It was then that the waitress returned with Flash's sandwich.

"Oh," she grinned in understanding. "I didn't realize you were . . . with your friend here. Now I get it." She clucked her tongue.

"No, you don't get it." Green Lantern covered his face from embarrassment.

"How long have you two been together?"

Flash watched in amusement as he ate his ham sandwich, his eyes darting back and forth between the grinning waitress and the ever-growing-rosy Green Lantern. He was secure enough in his manhood.

"We're not together," Lantern said through clenched teeth.

"Right. Two high-profile men like yourselves need to keep stuff like that under wraps. Gotcha."

"No, you-"

"Say no more. I don't know a thing, darlin'." With that, the waitress turned on her heel and went back to the kitchen.

"Well," Flash said, his mouth full, "I guess you don't have to worry about her flirting with you anymore."

"Eat your damn food."

Green Lantern looked up at his friend. He was happy to see some color returning to what part of Flash's face he could see. "Feeling better?" he asked. He didn't get an answer, but figured Flash was very happy to be eating.

The next time he looked up, Flash's skin tone almost matched his costume. "That's a little too much color. Too hot for you?" Lantern jabbed. He leaned back, pillowed his arms behind his head, and drawled, "Yep, a meal ain't a meal if your nose don't run." He then noticed how puffy Flash's face was and that his eyes were bulging from his mask. When he still didn't get an answer, he realized it was because Flash was busy struggling to inhale.

"Batman!" Green Lantern yelled into his transmitter. "Medical emergency; use that transfer beam jiggity and get us up there now!"

· ¤§¤ ·

(19) I don't know how to describe it. I've been trying to figure it out for the last five minutes. I mean, I'm doing it. There. Just did it. Kinda gettin sick of doing it, too. Okay, you know when you've been saying something for weeks and suddenly the person you've been telling just says it like it's some huge epiphany, or maybe they just state the so-obvious-that-plants-understand-it kind of obvious and you're in a really bad mood anyway because someone just towed your car and spilled juice all over your thesis for the medical board, so you widen your eyes and kinda nod curtly, kinda swivel, and kinda lean forward with your head and you can say, "Yeah," or not, the point gets across anyway? That's what he's doing. I don't know how to say that. And your eyebrows raise. Forehead wrinkles. Close to punching them. Real close.

(20) That is, could have been a decent place to eat when it opened had they stuck to the plans, or maybe it served edible food in another dimension.

· ¤§¤ ·

Sorry this one took so long to churn out; I've got finals coming up. Boy, college sure gets in the way of my free time, I gotta tell you.