-gasp- Can…can it be….? That illusory image on the horizon?! YES! IT IS! IT'S CHAPTER 3!
I would like to thank each and every person that reviewed for chapters 1 and 2. I'm so glad to hear you guys are enjoying the story so far! I'm sorry this took a while to get up. However, you'll notice I did do it in under three months! Eh? Eh?! Not impressed, huh….
(Oh, P.S. Sorry about all the words in the chapters that are squished together, likethis. I'm not doing that. It's ffnet. They're butchering my word files for some reason.)
For those of you that don't know, I've started a livejournal account that I'm using as a subsidiary to my ffnet account. After a chapter is posted on ffnet, I put all the behind the scenes goodies about the chapter up on livejournal. These usually include things such as author commentary, challenges I had, fun facts, etc. (I'm saving all the deleted scenes for the very end.) I also use the livejournal to give you updates on my progress. I submit an entry every so often on there telling you guys where I am on the chapter and how it's coming along. It's been running for a couple weeks now but this is the first public announcement I've made of it so most of you probably didn't know it existed. If you like this story and want to learn more about it, or if you want to keep track of the progress on Chapter 4 as well as my other stories, I invite you to head on over and take a look! The URL for the site is under "homepage" on my ffnet profile.
As always, I LOVE to hear what you guys think of my stuff, be it good or bad, so feel free to submit a review. If you don't want to do that, you can send me an email or talk to me in person over IM (both can be found on my ffnet profile; the IM screename is at the bottom.)
And now without further delay, CHAPTER 3!
Disclaimer: Writing for profit is fun and easy! Too bad I don't know how to have fun or follow directions.
Chapter 3
It was well into the afternoon as Wonder Woman descended upon the heart of Metropolis. Like every other city, it had a feel that one could only experience by setting foot inside it for the first time. Metropolis' could have easily been summed up in one word: shiny. Downtown was a singular beacon of light glinting against the sun in a brilliant display of architectural prowess. Not much ingenuity had gone into the buildings—they were almost all the same cylindrical shape—but the sheer mass of the carefully engineered structures was enough to take the breath away. They stood as monuments against the surrounding scenery, towering over any and all things that dared to stand beside them.
Diana was careful to fly a few hundred feet above the highest skyscrapers, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. There was no question about it, what she was doing was daring. Showing up in one of man's cities in full battle garb with no emergency present was suspicious. But she was sick and tired of all the secrets and half-truths, the deceptions and mistrust that still, to this very minute, existed between the members of the Justice League. On Amazon everyone was a sister, not only by name, but by how they were treated as well. How far did the others expect to get behaving this way? With secret identities and hidden lives? Green Lantern and Superman talked of 'trust' and 'teamwork,' but their words and actions were two entirely different things. Sometimes, Diana grew so frustrated with the secrecy she just wanted to rip it open with her bare hands, if only to enjoy the satisfying crunch it would make. A family that couldn't trust one another was no family. And a family that turned its back on any one of their members, no matter how deserving they felt he was, was no family either.
Of course, 'not turning your back' sometimes meant doing things that weren't exactly welcomed. Going to the girlfriend was a rather low blow, Diana had to admit, but she was through playing games. Batman wasn't going to talk to her until he understood she was serious. He had brought this upon himself.
Her blue eyes skipped sharply over the scenery unfolding beneath her, taking in the streets filled with cars and pedestrians. As she approached the center of the city, the sidewalks widened out into an expansive circular plaza bordered on all sides with business and cafes. A large fountain in the center shaped like a daffodil spewed water gently into a cerulean blue pond. The rosy cobblestone making up the courtyard gave the scene a pleasant appearance. Lounging throughout the area were dozens of businessmen and women chatting amicably as they took their midmorning breaks. Wonder Woman's gaze passed over them quickly, hovering only long enough to rule them out as the person she was looking for. After assuring herself Lois Lane was not already outside, Diana then began to scan the buildings.
The headquarters for the Daily Planet newspaper was not hard to find. The office was situated practically in the center of Metropolis square, and towered over a good half of those surrounding it. The enormous spinning globe on the top adorned with the company's name in golden letters was also a dead giveaway. Wonder Woman took a few moments to circle the building, carefully noting all the exits and entrances. Once she had them memorized and firmly mapped in her mind, she looked for a suitable perch to monitor them from a safe distance. She chose a smaller office building to the side that allowed her a good view of both the southern and western face of her target. As noon slowly began to creep upon all the diligent workers within the reporting hive, she crouched into a comfortable position and settled herself for the wait.
Had she been the Diana from a few years ago, she would have simply marched straight into that office building in full uniform and escorted Lane out in plain sight. Working with the Justice League had taught her some restraint when it came to her Amazon ways. It wasn't much, but there were a handful of situations where she recognized the necessity of stealth despite her normal impatience with the concept. She would have rather done anything than sit idle on this rooftop for hours on end, but Diana had few alternatives. Unlike some of her fellow heroes, wearing plainclothes would do nothing to help her.
As she watched the countless number of people filter from the far below, she wondered if any of them were heroes themselves passing as normal during the day. The young man laughing easily into his cell phone, could that be the Flash down there? Was that tall executive with the ebony hair really Star Sapphire by night?
Diana never noticed it before, but the Justice League had slipped into a habit of completely ignoring the people behind the masks almost automatically. When working together the heroes were the people. Superman was Superman, the Flash was the Flash and so on. Diana never thought of her teammates returning home after battle, slipping into a suit and tie, and going to work the next day to live among people who knew them as someone else. The idea felt foreign and unnatural to her. Wherever she went she was Wonder Woman, which was the very reason she was now crouched on this roof in hiding. Her identity as a hero and a person was no secret to the public. In fact, the others frequently called her by her first name. She had no desire to hide behind a fake identity. Though she told herself she understood the reasons, deep within it seemed a lot like cowardice.
As she thought about it, though, her situation was not so uncommon among her teammates. After all, Green Lantern freely showed his face both in costume and out, and Diana doubted J'onn or Hawkgirl could pass for normal if they tried. Green skin and wings were not the easiest of attributes to conceal. Superman, Batman, and, she assumed, the Flash were really the only ones who hid in secrecy among their fellow man. Personally, Diana never would have expected any of them to be the type to humble themselves that much to a race that, quite frankly, was beneath them. She knew she wouldn't have.
A figure exiting through the revolving doors snapped her attention back to the street. Leaning forward, she took a moment to double check herself before giving a cursory nod.
Thank Hera Ms. Lane favors that bright purple suit.
She was slightly disappointed to note the reporter wasn't alone. Walking beside her was a tall, dark-haired man in a blue suit that looked to be extremely well-built for a simple journalist. Even if he wasn't present Diana couldn't have engaged Lane in public anyway, it would look too suspicious. But she didn't like the idea of having to wait for him to leave. If Lane and her guest were headed to lunch together, which is what it looked like, that meant it would be a while before Diana could move in. She didn't want to be following these two around all afternoon.
Unfortunately, it looked as if she had little choice. As the pair strolled along the sidewalk towards a small bar and grill, it became increasingly obvious they weren't in a hurry. Thankfully, they chose to sit at a table outside on the patio but it was far too crowded for Diana to get close. The best she could do was another low rooftop next to the establishment. The waiter had just returned from the kitchen, drinks in hand, when Lane made an unexpected dive for the purse in her lap. Apparently she had received a call on her cell phone. Whatever the news, Diana hoped it would get her away from these crowds.
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"Hello?"
Clark Kent stopped his conversation in mid-sentence as Lois answered her cell phone. In the modern world of portable communications technology it was too taxing to get insulted with every single person lacking in cell phone etiquette. Lois was one of the worst offenders known to man, but Clark wasn't bothered. Nothing about Lois bothered him. Instead he reached for his drink and busied himself with sipping his water while he waited for her to finish.
"I have a situation."
Lois recognized the voice immediately as Robert's, one of her fellow reporters from the office. "Why do I get the sinking feeling your 'situation' somehow involves me skipping lunch?" she asked with a telling glance at Clark.
"The visiting mayors are giving a press conference in forty-five minutes at the courthouse in the White District. I'm scheduled to cover it but I can't make it."
Lois had heard of the event. In light of the crime wave sweeping New York and New Jersey, the mayors of over six cities caught in the crisis were meeting together to discuss the situation. They had been moving from city to city on a type of 'Reassure the People' campaign. This was their second day in Metropolis.
"A press conference?" Lois groaned. "I think I'm insulted."
"You usually leap at the chance for stories."
"I usually leap at the chance for good stories, Rob, not press conferences." The last was said with a hint of disgust. "I'm on lunch. Why don't you get Samantha to do it?"
"She's covering that abortion demonstration over on Fifth."
"Phillip?"
"He got shipped to Iraq, like, two weeks ago. Remember?"
"Jack?"
"Yeah right. He couldn't handle a notepad and pencil if it bit him in the ass."
"So you're telling me there's no one else."
"Come on, Lois. Please? I'll do anything! It's the high school playoffs and my kid's one of the forwards."
She sighed. "Okay. Get me the rest of the day off to go on this little errand and you've got yourself a deal."
There was a pause. "The rest of the day?"
"I'm hanging up."
"Okay, okay! The conference'll probably go until four, I'll figure out...something for the last hour. Thanks, Lois. I really appreciate this."
"Yeah, yeah." She snapped her phone shut. "Well, Smallville" she smiled as she shoved it back in her purse. "Looks like you'll be on the afternoon shift alone today. I just bagged some time off."
He leaned back in his chair, smirking. "I heard. What's going on?"
"The press conference downtown. Robert's due to attend but he can't make it so I'm going to cover for him...for a price, of course."
"Of course." Clark checked his watch, "Well, I've got some time on my hands. Care for some company on your trip?"
Lois was already pushing in her chair. She gave him a shrewd glare as she marveled, not for the first time, how he could have so much damn time on his hands. Being extremely competitive, it irked Lois that Clark Kent, the small-town country boy, always seemed to be able to match her success with half the effort. "I guess so." she relented. "Just make sure and keep out of my way."
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"I can't believe we're doin' this in broad daylight."
Jonathan 'Slim' Marrin was not the most spontaneous of criminals. His knack for selecting ripe opportunities and taking advantage of them were renown throughout the underbelly of Metropolis, but his schemes were the result of months of careful preparation. Needless to say, when mobster Eikens Jr. had approached him and asked for a full-scale heist in less than three weeks, Slim wasn't exactly on board. The fact that it would take place during the day with a few hundred policemen nearby didn't do much to sway him. It was only after Eikens had brought up his connection to the mafia and a certain overdue favor that Slim changed his mind. But even with a mafia-ordered backing, the seasoned strategist knew from the start the heist wasn't going to be easy.
"Relax, Slim" a voice addressed him. "We's gots it all worked out. 'Ju said it jurself: ain't nothin' gonna go wrong."
Tall, gangly, blonde-haired Slim glanced to the front of the van at the speaker, their freckled, zit-faced, red-headed boy of a driver barely reaching into his mid-twenties.
"I said, 'If we do it right nothin' will go wrong.'" Slim snapped, giving the boy an annoyed glare. He didn't like the team Eikens had given him to work with. Aside from the constant feeling he was swimming in a tank full of hungry sharks, these mafia personnel seemed to be from the bottom of the barrel. There was one wet-behind-the-ears driver that wouldn't shut up, and two ape-like brutes with more body odor than intelligence. More than once Slim had entertained the thought that Eikens actually wanted them to fail, but then he'd catch the heartless glare of one of the men and the thought would pass. Either way, he had little say in the matter. If he wanted to keep his life he had to repay the favor he owed, and if he wanted to do that, he had to play subservient to these moronic stooges.
Slim turned his attention back to the occupants of the van. Cautious by nature, he had taken the liberty of adding one of his own people to the mix without Eikens' knowledge. His choice for the task sat with her back against the doors, keeping her dark Hispanic eyes both on the pedestrians passing outside as well as the occupants within. Slim's sometimes lover, sometimes partner, Sonia Terring was an asset for both him and the job. Known to be nasty with a knife, she was as loyal as they came when there was something in it for her. Together they had pulled off several successful heists together.
As per his instructions, everyone on the team had dressed casually, forgoing the cliché "all black" attire seen so often in the movies. The only exceptions to the rule were the black masks hanging limply around each individual's neck, as well as the gloves Slim had insisted they all wear. Beyond that it was t-shirts and sweatpants all around to allow for mobility. With the equipment set and the team ready, all that was left to do was go over the specifics one last time.
Even Slim had to admit the idea was sheer genius. With the mayors visiting the city Metropolis had thrown all its weight into finding enough security to make sure nothing happened to them during their stay. Nearly half of the police force had been reassigned to oversee the press conference taking place this afternoon, which would only further tax the already thinly-spread law enforcement. This added security drew resources from other areas of the city. But more importantly, it drew the police's attention away from criminal-prone targets. One such target was Metropolis' Natural Museum of History.
Why Eikens, a lowlife mafia slug, would want anything from inside a museum was beyond Slim. All he knew was the police would be so distracted with crowd control for the mayors they wouldn't respond to a call from the museum until it was too late. The only problem: the target was less than one block away from where the conference was going to be held.
"Okay, we gotta do this fast and we gotta do this right" Slim announced to the others, checking his watch. "Once we get inside we go straight for the goods, nothing else."
"Ju don' need tah tell us how's to do our job" one of the brutes slurred, jabbing a menacing finger at Slim. "Ju'se jus' stick to what ju were told tah get 'n keep jer sticky fingers in check."
Slim nodded, though not without an insulted frown. "We'll enter on the south side of the building through the employee door. Once inside, the exhibit will be directly above us in the lobby. We'll have to unhinge two sets of doors to get in since they're too thick to break open, but, if everything goes the way we've practiced, we'll be out and gone before the cops can get there." He turned to the driver. "Just make sure you're ready for us!"
"No prob, Slim Jim. I'll keep th' motor nice 'n warm just for ju."
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"Despite what has been said to the contrary" the mayor of Metropolis boomed over the crowd, "we want to assure the citizens in each of the involved areas that things are under control. We've already received the aid of over three thousand extra volunteers and feel confident that the crime wave should be contained within the coming weeks." He gave a quick glance to the people behind him on the stage. "And now I believe we're going to open it up for questions."
Finally Lois thought, stifling a yawn. The only thing more boring than hearing one bureaucrat yammering on for an hour is six of them.
The invitation from the mayor was the catalyst needed to turn the reporters gathered at the bottom of the courthouse steps into a sea of shouting hands. Clark and Lois had a hard time staying beside one another as the eager throng pressed inwards. In fighting with the crowd, Lane caught brief flashes of badges and symbols from a plethora of news stations, radios, and newspapers, not all of them from Metropolis. It seemed the surrounding cities were keeping a very close eye on what their government officials intended to do about the crime crisis.
The mayor's reluctant eyes passed slowly around the sea of piranhas before settling on what must have looked like the least of several evils: a woman standing on Lois' left. He pointed to her in acknowledgement.
"What type of relief can the victims of the crimes already committed expect in all of this, mayor?" the woman asked, her voice ringing sharply over the ambient noise in the background.
Lois and Clark as well as several others glanced over in surprise at the speaker's tone. It was obvious the woman had a serious disdain for authority…and for fashion. Her outrageous outfit did everything but audibly scream for attention. The audacious reporter wore a bright yellow, full-length jumpsuit that hung on her just tight enough to accent most of the natural curves to her figure. Her hair hung defiantly around her face, cropped short at the shoulder and glaring a fiery red. Lois could almost hear eyes bugging out of their sockets as they took in the unusual outfit. A clearly displayed square patch on the woman's right arm advertised a large number 6 stitched onto a white background. Lane recognized the station instantly as one from New York. Standing behind the woman, a crew of two men held a camera and a microphone sporting the same station symbol. Lois exchanged a mutual glance with Clark. News reporters—it figured.
The mayor answered the question in as few words as possible, looking more than a little annoyed with his poor choice for a first pick. When finished he quickly skipped on to the next hand, choosing a man this time. The questioning continued for exactly fifteen minutes before the presenters decided they were done. Amidst shouts and pleas for "Just one more!" the officials turned their backs on the hungry reporters and filed quickly out of sight. Left with nothing else to feed on, the group slowly began to disperse. Lois shut her notebook closed with a satisfying flick of her wrist as the crowd milled aimlessly around her. Although she hadn't wanted to take this assignment in the first place, she'd gotten some good questions in and had enough to type a decent article. It wouldn't be one of her best but, then again, this wasn't exactly stimulating material. As usual, the mayor had neatly skipped around anything that might have proved juicy.
She glanced around to look for Clark. He was several feet away, conversing with a former Daily Planet reporter that had recently relocated to another newspaper. Lois was about to make her way to speak with them when a familiar voice drifted into her ear.
"These Metropolis bureaucrats sure can talk."
She turned to look at the yellow jumpsuit woman who was busy packing her notes away into a large black leather bag at her feet. The redhead straightened for a moment and shot a playful smirk at Lois. "Too bad they haven't learned how to say anything worthwhile."
Lois returned the grin. "I didn't hear your representative talking much."
"That's 'cause he's an idiot. But you didn't hear that from me." The woman finally turned to face Lois. She grinned, genuine this time, and extended a hand. "April O'Neil, Channel 6 News."
"Lois Lane, Daily Planet." The woman's handshake was a good firm one.
"You look like you enjoyed that as much as I did. You get stuck out here, too?"
"Called in at the last minute."
"Story of my life. I hate going to press conferences. I wouldn't even be here if Vernon hadn't gotten 'sick.'" April bent over once again to pick up some electrical cords from the ground which she expertly began winding in her hands. As she stood the mischievous smile returned to her face. "Of course, I guess one part of me was a little excited. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of some 'Metropolis color,' preferably the flying, heroic kind."
"Giving up?"
"I wish. I'm scheduled to follow these guys around until Tuesday. The next stop's Gotham which is where the authorities should be focusing their attention anyway, in my opinion. Of course, the government there's as crooked as they come." She shrugged, picking up her bag and stuffing the cords inside with one smooth motion. "But, who knows, maybe I'll still get my footage. After all, there are the rumors about the bat man to consider."
Lois felt herself stiffen, as she always did when the name was mentioned. She gave what she hoped sounded like a disbelieving laugh. She'd had a lot of practice delivering her answer ever since...well, ever since him, but sometimes it wasn't easy. "The 'bat man?'" she scoffed. "I'd think coming out of New York you'd be a little more suspicious of urban legends. I've heard enough from your city to start a library. Don't tell me you actually believe in all that stuff?"
The redhead smiled privately to herself as she turned to leave. "Not any more than I believe the rumors about the radioactive samurai turtles living in our sewers."
"Miss O'Niel!"
If their conversation wasn't already over, the frantic voice calling out over the crowd would have stopped it. Lois' reporter instincts kicked in the instant her brain registered the sound. She knew a story when she heard one sprouting from the lungs of an excited citizen. Casually, she drifted closer to listen in to the conversation.
Lois wasn't the only one that caught onto the disturbance. Several eyes also turned, the shout stimulating the crowd of reporters like blood in the water. Lois saw Clark watching as well out of the corner of her eye. Though he was fairly removed from the commotion, she wasn't surprised. She'd learned from past experience he had fantastic hearing.
The teen didn't wait for April to ask him anything. Arms flailing wildly, the news poured from his mouth as the pressure of the information became too great for his lips to dam up another second. "There's a robbery in progress just on the next block! The museum! Some idiots were trying to steal something and set off the alarm! They've got themselves holed up in the lobby right now!"
April was off like a shot after 'block.' Lois waited a few seconds more before dashing off herself in case the boy said anything else important. The Natural History Museum was the only one within a block's distance, and she knew of a fortunate shortcut that would get her there faster than most of the herd already darting after O'Niel. A story was a story, and this robbery was indefinitely more exciting than Rob's stupid press conference. She wondered, though, what criminal would be stupid enough to try and rob a museum with the entire police force only a block away.
Lois didn't bother checking to see if Clark was following her as she broke into a run. He could take care of himself. Besides, he always had a habit of disappearing whenever trouble came up, anyway.
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The robbery had gone well until they actually reached the exhibit hall. It turned out Slim's team had been fed bad information concerning the doors. Considering this was a mafia job, that would undoubtedly lead to death for someone along the road. With only a glance Slim could tell they weren't going to be able to break in with the sparse equipment they'd brought. The hinges were sealed tightly within a separate metal casing, blocking off access to the head of the pin they needed to remove to pull off the doors. So, with time fast clicking against them, the party of four stood in the hallway and wracked their brains for another solution. Ape number one—Slim hadn't bothered to remember a name for him—suggested they try to drill through the wall and locate the electronic wires for the locks. It took a frustratingly large amount of time they could barely afford, but the idea worked...save for the alarm.
The police had the building surrounded faster than anticipated. Caught red-handed, Slim's band of merry men had no choice but to draw their weapons and dig in their heels. Within seconds the operation fell from a quick unnoticed strike to a full-out standoff. Needless to say, Slim was not happy. His party was now clumped together in the immaculate lobby of the museum, scurrying to load their automatic pistols. They were so busy keeping an eye on the increasing number of police cars collecting at the entrance, that they weren't paying any attention to the ceiling.
In a chaotic display of power, the skylight stretching the entire length of the museum lobby suddenly exploded as a figure burst through the glass. Within seconds the criminals were on their feet gaping at the star-studded leotard of Wonder Woman herself. Having never dealt with a super hero before, Sonia and Slim's weapons lowered in uncontained awe. The mafia stooges were much quicker on the uptake.
Ape number two had his pistol up and firing in a furious blur of motion. He barely even stopped to aim as he squeezed off bullets in the general direction of the ceiling. While the gunfire distracted everyone's attention, his fellow mafia cohort took careful aim with his weapon and fired shot after flawless shot at the real target. Wonder Woman had seen the trick used before, but the efficiency of this particular execution warned her these were no ordinary criminals she was dealing with. It was all she could do to keep her wrists moving to block the bullets spiraling towards her body. The metal projectiles panged loudly against her enchanted bracelets as she worked to send the deadly projectiles spiraling off in safe directions.
Wonder Woman made blocking bullets look easy, but there was a science to the skill in that she had to calculate where the metal would fly once deflected. Surrounded in this museum by irreplaceable and priceless artifacts, it was impossible for her to keep the bullets away from all of them. She knew she needed to move this fight outside and fast, both to get the criminals into police custody and to save the museum from further torment. The man and woman could wait, she decided. The two muscular men firing at her needed to be dealt with first. Though she hated allowing any criminal to escape, working with Batman had taught Diana it was sometimes more important to deal with the priority threat than the entire situation at once. With that decided, she shot through the air and boldly dove her way through a rain of bullets to reach the gunmen.
Slim and Sonia snapped out of their awed trance the moment they heard bullets whining through the air. Together, they dove for cover behind a large stone pillar supporting one side of the museum's main entryway. Sonia kept an eye out for a chance to escape while Slim calculated where they should run.
"She's going after the brutes!" Sonia shouted over the fire, signaling Slim the time was right. Moving as if they were of one mind, the two scrambled to their feet and dashed further into the museum, away from the fight. After reaching the end of the lobby Slim took the lead, heading left down a series of narrow hallways laden with pictures of dinosaurs for a special exhibit. Having meticulously studied the layout of the museum weeks before the robbery, he was more than prepared to make a quick getaway from the building. Where they would go from there, he had no idea. His main objective at the moment was just to get outside at a point not guarded by the police.
"There!" he barked to his companion. "The stairwell!"
There were too many police outside for them not to have covered all the street-level exits. Slim had recognized almost from the beginning their best way out of this mess was to try and jump to another building from the roof. After only a few minutes of climbing stairs, the access door stood just one flight above their heads. They were almost there.
Slim didn't bother to slow down when he reached the top landing. Bracing his shoulder, he grit his teeth and slammed solidly into the door separating them from freedom. It burst open on rusty hinges allowing sunlight to pour unmercifully into both criminals' eyes. It wasn't until they staggered a few feet into the light that they noticed a long shadow casting itself over the roof.
"Going somewhere?" Superman asked.
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Lois Lane couldn't help but scream as a body flew through the glass doors of the museum to land in a nasty position on the stairs. Within seconds, Wonder Woman stepped through the hole dragging a second person by the collar of his coat. It took a few moments for the spectators gathered at the museum steps to process the bodies as being two large males, both looking decidedly worse for the wear. They were bleeding and only half-conscious, but they were alive. Strutting forward as if nothing had happened, Wonder Woman gracefully scooped up the thug on the stairs and deposited her two captives before the police. Lois moved quickly through the crowd while the police and spectators were busy showering cheers upon the hero. With her competition distracted, she wanted to snag a good spot right next to the action. The secret to landing the best interviews was to always be on your toes.
After a handful of forceful shoves and muffled apologies, she managed to make her way to the front of the throng. It never failed to amaze her how one flimsy piece of bright yellow police tape was able to hold back an overpowering tide of curiosity. The unwritten societal standard dictated crossing the barrier was forbidden. But Lois had always been one to require such things in writing. She moved fast, hoping to get in at least one question before the security ushered her out. Unfortunately, someone had been watching for her.
"Can I help you, Miss Lane?" an amused voice asked as she straightened from ducking beneath the caution tape.
Lois put on her best smile for Officer Mason. "Just making sure you guys were paying attention."
The two of them went back a few years. Mason had thrown her out of more restricted areas than any other officer on the force. He now stepped forward, gesturing for Lois to head towards a section on the right where the crowd had thinned out. Ever the gentleman, he held the tape up for her so she could step under. "Now I think we've been over this before" he said, only halfway joking "but this is your side of the line."
"I always have trouble with that. How are the wife and kids?"
"They're good, and you're not getting in on the other side. I've got men covering it."
Lois ground her teeth behind her smile. "That's very thorough of you. I hope they pay you extra for the good job you're doing."
"Rest assured they do, Miss." He nodded, "And now if you'll do me a favor and give the fine men and women of law enforcement here some room, I've got a crime scene to attend to."
"Actually, officer" came a third voice from the side. "I was wondering if I could have a moment with Ms. Lane myself."
Mason and Lois turned, their faces a picture of shock as they realized the new speaker was Wonder Woman. The officer did not look pleased to have his authority overridden, but he wasn't about to argue. He held the police tape up again to allow Lois to cross under. He then left the women with a final nod to tend to his own responsibilities.
Wonder Woman turned and began to walk away. Lois followed. When they were a good distance from the crowd and the police alike, they stopped. "I need to speak with you" Wonder Woman said, her voice low in her throat.
Lois suddenly found herself nervous. She didn't like the urgent tone in the woman's words. What was this about? And, come to think of it, how did Wonder Woman know to be in this area at the exact moment of the robbery? Superman usually swept in just in the knick of time, but he lived in this city. What was she doing in Metropolis? "I don't suppose it's for an interview" she muttered, not bothering to hide her sarcasm.
The hero scowled for a moment and then seemed to realize Lois was not being serious. She softened, though her voice never lost its authority. "It won't take long. I just have a few questions for you."
"Questions? About what?"
"Someone you know."
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The two criminals now lying unconscious on the museum roof would never know it, but it was only by chance Superman had run into them when he did. He'd actually been circling the building to determine the best way to enter when his acute hearing had picked up on the sound of gunfire inside. He was about to barrel straight through the roof into the lobby, and then the sound of escaping footsteps caught his attention. He decided instead to descend to the service door and greet them when they arrived.
He always felt sorry for criminals that had never encountered him before. Inevitably, they all attempted to harm him with whatever weapons they had handy—in this case a pistol and a sturdy assault knife. That was understandable. What he didn't get was why, when the metal deflected harmlessly off his chest, the criminals still insisted on attacking. Sometimes it took them a good few minutes before they realized the weapon they were hiding behind was neither intimidating him nor doing any harm. He could always tell when they finally figured it out, too, because they all got the same look on their faces. The 'terrified child on Christmas morning' look, as Flash liked to call it. Superman had learned over the years to watch for that look and strike the minute he saw it.
"Sounds like the fight downstairs is taken care of" he muttered to himself as he effortlessly lifted his senseless captives from the ground. Before leaving he took a moment to use his x-ray vision to check the lobby. Aside from the multiple bullets embedded in the walls, it was empty. The police must have taken care of it while he was on the roof. Hopefully none of the criminals had escaped.
As he flew down to the front of the museum, Superman caught sight of an arrest taking place by a red van parked in an alley next to the building. The crook looked to be a kid just barely out of high school. Now he'd be lucky if he got out of prison before he was thirty. An entire life wasted, just like that. Superman's eyes shifted away to scan the activity taking place near the museum entrance. A group of police standing by one of the squad cars seemed an ideal place to drop off his cargo. Calling the name of an officer he recognized, the Man of Steel descended to the pavement and released his captives.
"Where'd you find these two?" Officer Mason asked, perplexed.
"On the roof, though I'm not sure exactly where they were going. They seemed to be running scared by the time I caught up to them."
"Heh, can't say I blame 'em. I'd have been too if I was caught in that lobby with this pair of trigger-happy stooges." The officer gestured behind him to the squad car he was helping to guard. "It looks like we've got a mafia job going on here. These two are part of Eikens' gang."
"I heard the gunfire from the roof" Superman said, "but it stopped before I could get in there. Did we lose anyone?"
"No, thanks to Wonder Woman!" the officer beamed. "Every officer, civilian and criminal accounted for. She was in there before I could even get all my men on the scene. And we might not have caught these two if it weren't for you. I tell you, I don't know what we did to have two heroes on hand when this happened, but I sure am grateful the Justice League keeps an eye on these things. You guys make this world a hell of lot safer."
"Wonder Woman's here?"
"Yeah, right over there, giving Ms. Lois Lane an even bigger head about being able to sneak onto crime scenes."
Superman turned to see Wonder Woman and Lois standing a good distance away from the excitement, talking with their heads bent close.
What was Diana doing here? And what on earth did she need to see Lois about? The League sometimes spoke with civilians, but they were usually contacts in relation to a particular crime. Even then they didn't like doing it often. Case in point: Professor Henry Moss vs. Etrigan the Demon. Lois wasn't a contact for any current criminal activities Superman knew of. He directed his hearing to pick up on their conversation.
"Questions?" he heard Lois ask. She sounded suspicious. "About what?"
"Someone you know."
Someone Lois knew? The only person Wonder Woman would have any reason to speak to Lois about was….
Superman almost gasped out loud. She wouldn't!
"Something wrong?" Officer Mason asked of him.
"No, it's nothing. Would you excuse me?"
--------------------
"Someone you know."
Batman.
The name leapt to Lois' mind as clearly as if Wonder Woman had said it aloud. She felt a fear that had been steadily collecting over the past several months finally coalesce in her stomach. News of Bruce Wayne had been unusually scarce as of late. Normally the Gotham tabloids made it their particular mission to keep what they thought were careful tabs on the richest, most eligible bachelor in their city. But Lois knew something was wrong when she was unable to pick up any trace of Batman in the news.
The signs were near impossible to spot for someone who wasn't looking for them. As a reporter, Lois saw hundreds of articles pass through her office a day and even she had a hard time picking up on his trail through the media. But every so often a mention of a shadowy figure would come up, or sometimes, if the author was bold, the name would surface. That was how she followed him, unable to stop herself from searching for his death in the news, and worrying about him when she didn't find it. Such was the curse Bruce Wayne had given her.
"Is there somewhere private we can go to talk?" Wonder Woman asked.
Lois barely heard the question. She cleared her throat. "Yes…my apartment."
"Where is it?"
"He'll show you." She nodded to someone over Wonder Woman's shoulder and then called out. "A little late to the party, aren't we?"
Superman didn't answer. Lois could tell instantly he was upset about something. He almost seemed to be glowering at Wonder Woman, who had turned around by this point. Why did the two look so surprised to see each other? It seemed strange. Wisely, Lois decided to stay out of it.
"I just got a call from the watchtower" Superman said carefully, studying Wonder Woman like a hawk. "It's urgent."
Lois had watched enough James Bond films to know the sentence was a cover. It was probably code for something. Normally as a reporter she'd have stayed around to gather some dirt, but this was Superman and she owed him a few. Taking the hint, she walked away before either of them could dismiss her. As she reentered the crowd gathered in the street, she saw all the heads around her turn up in awestruck unison, no doubt watching as the two titans ascended into the sky.
--------------------
J'onn's reflection in the glass stared back at him with its own unblinking gaze as a phantom watching his every move. The Martian remained where he had been for the past sixteen hours, standing alone in the watchtower observatory. Outside the windows the planets and stars sparkled brightly against the ebony void of space, warriors in the darkness. Usually the sight of those intrepid bodies brought comfort to J'onn's mind when the burdens of life became too great. Today they brought nothing but emptiness.
The first thing he remembered upon awakening was Flash apologizing for bothering him. The speedster had apparently come to say it was morning and the others were departing for the day. For a brief, merciful moment J'onn's mind went blank in confusion, giving him just enough time to utter a muffled "Thank you" in Flash's direction. As he felt the wind dissipate from the speedster's departure, that's when he remembered exactly what Flash had interrupted.
Martians did not dream. They did not dream because dreaming required the subconscious mind to wander free of any and all restraints. Given the fact it was the subconscious mind that held a Martian's powers in check, one could see why dreams were unknown to the Martian world. At times, however, they did experience sensations during meditation that could be equated to dreams, random unexpected flashes of memories or visions that their subconscious saw fit to unearth. The fact that J'onn had been seeking answers before descending into his 'dream' told him he was being led somewhere. The only question was, where? And was it someplace he wanted to go?
His head sunk for a moment against the glass.
The vision had been accurate down to the smallest detail. J'onn had forgotten the downfall of Mars, had forgotten everything. When he finally picked himself up from the sand on that horrible day, forgetting was the only way he could go on. After the war was won; after his family's grave was decorated with flowers; after the invaders had been sealed within their prison; after he'd scoured the planet looking for survivors; after J'onn had convinced himself suicide was not the answer, he had made a decision. He decided the final days of the planet Mars were not the way he wanted to remember his family, his life. And so he had finalized what his mind had already done in part, and cast those days into obscurity. J'onn of Mars was laid to rest along with his dynamic, outgoing personality. J'onn J'onzz took his place; the quiet guardian, the loner, the soldier. That was the only J'onn the Justice League ever knew.
What are you hiding?!
The Imperium….J'onn didn't know how he could have forgotten it, the feeling as that thing had raged at the gates of his psychic shield, trying everything within its power to break him. He should have recognized the sensation in the subway instantly. He had felt it only once before. There was now no doubt in his mind someone had been trying to break through his shield last night. Except, unlike the Imperium, they had succeeded.
It was no small feat. Not even the Imperium had been powerful enough to wield its gifts without physically contacting its target. The requirement was one even the greatest of psychics were restricted to, including Martians. But this new assailant did not seem to be bound by such a rule. Not only had they managed to reach across a great distance, but they also broke through a Martian defense shield and all without raising a single warning. There were only two explanations J'onn could find for what had happened. Either he'd found a creature on Earth more powerful than a Martian, or he was dealing with someone who already had access to his psyche to begin with.
It wasn't possible as far as he knew, but then he couldn't confidently claim it was impossible either. The reality of it was until their destruction, Martians had lived on a planet by themselves with nothing but their own kind. They'd never had friendly contact with another species before. A place like Earth was new territory for his entire race. J'onn had never willingly granted access to his psyche to anyone on this planet, but there was one person who might have gained it for herself: Morgaine LeFey.
The sorceress was a magic-user by trade, not a psychic, which was one of the reasons J'onn had made the mistake he did. The two arts were similar enough on the basic level for him to understand but they had little in common beyond that. Psychic abilities were inherent; magic was a learned science. As such, Morgaine LeFey had a far greater understanding of how J'onn's powers worked than he did of hers.
He never should have attempted to locate her with his abilities. Once he established the link between them, LeFey was simply able to travel back along it, using J'onn's own powers against him as they were supplied. She slipped by his barrier undetected and wove a special pathway through magic that allowed her to do the same in the future. After she was defeated J'onn had gone into hibernation in hopes of destroying her magical pathway. He thought he had succeeded, but somehow the sorceress must have managed to resurrect the old road and was again trying to use him to her ends.
"Then why is she hesitating?" he asked himself.
The Martian psyche was extremely delicate as well as vital. One of the reasons J'onn had such powerful defense mechanisms shielding it was to protect against the damage an invading presence could do. Once someone penetrated his shield he was at their mercy. They could alter memories, disrupt muscle function or bone structure, or worst of all, eviscerate the mind piece by terrible piece. Last night J'onn had been caught completely off guard. LeFey was in the perfect position to inflict damage and yet didn't bother to take the opportunity. She had merely appeared, sent him a few images, and then left. Why? Was she testing him for weaknesses? Flexing her abilities? Perhaps preparing for a future assault to destroy him altogether?
J'onn wasn't about to wait to find out. He still wasn't sure about the rest of his vision—his family's death or the murder beside the theater—but one thing he did know: he had to act fast before LeFey could complete her plans. The watchtower was empty now. There was no longer a danger of harming anyone if he lost control of his powers. It was the perfect opportunity to find that demon and cast her from him forever.
J'onn straightened and relaxed his body, allowing his eyes to slip open into a vacant stare. Within minutes the world began to fade away. He heard the steady rhythm of his own breathing expand into an echoing ocean and pull him beneath its waves. As he descended, he felt his thoughts slipping away from his grasp. He let them go without resisting. Most people would have been surprised at how difficult it was. The mind could not be wiped clean like marker on an erase board. It had too many levels working in too complex a system to just halt. In order to truly clear itself, it had to be gradually eased into a state of suspension—a feat much easier said than done.
It is hard to overcome the natural reflex to think. The mind serves as a weight onto the surrounding world. If nothing is perceived, nothing can exist, and therefore thinking is a way to keep oneself anchored to the concept known as "reality." To ask someone to clear their mind is asking them to sever their safety ties; to let go of the wall and float in an endless world where everything is nothing, including themselves. It is a state many are reluctant to readily embrace.
J'onn had long ago gotten used to the sensation. By the time the euphoria fully gripped his mind he was both relaxed and tensed, ready for anything he might find. He shifted the energies swirling around him to keep them as low as possible. The psychic plane was one based more on feel than sight. J'onn had no 'body' in this place. Instead, he was defined by his psychic identity rather than his corporeal one. While presences here could be perceived as a multitude of sensations, they were expressed only in a simple array of colors and sometimes crude lines. J'onn knew it would be easier to pick out foreign energy traces without his own overpowering them. Depending on how far away the target was, the signal could be extremely feint.
Off hand there was nothing out of place he could see, which came as no surprise. J'onn had already done this probing exercise dozens of times since last night. He was hoping this trial would yield different results, especially since now he knew what he was looking for. Moving slowly and carefully, he began sifting through the energies around him, checking each one for any foreign signatures.
An hour passed with no results. Then a second. J'onn lost track of time after that but the surveillance camera set in the ceiling of the observatory did not. The device recorded faithfully as J'onn stood motionless in meditation for most of the day. It watched as little by little, the strength drained from his body, sapped by the psychic energies he was channeling with his mind. As he waited patiently for something, anything to show itself, so the camera waited, unerring in its duty. Then, as night was falling over the United States, the camera saw J'onn's hands curl into weak fists at his sides. Something was happening.
A small flicker was all the energy J'onn needed to hone in on the connection. It was so feint he barely felt it, but he was ready. His heart raced as he quickly steeled his defenses in preparation for a fight. Once he leapt across the link there was no telling what was waiting for him. He had to make sure he was prepared for anything. Anchoring his own essence firmly in his ethereal grasp, J'onn seized the strand with his mind and made the leap into that of the enemy.
A gentle wind blew against his face as he dropped soundlessly to a hard cement surface in the darkness. After giving the area a cursory check, he sidled to the left, deeper into the shadows covering most of the roof. There was a soft mechanical click at his side while the grapple rope retracted into his hand. Three silent steps forward brought him to the edge. Glancing down, he could see the top of the pale white letters identifying the building he was standing on. The name flashed in his mind even though he could not read the words: Gotham Hospital.
Beneath him thousands of sterile windows stared down onto the moistened streets. A light mist had fallen earlier in the evening, coating the black asphalt just enough to make it gleam like obsidian beneath the city lights. His eyes narrowed, sweeping quickly across the windows to mark which ones were lit from the inside and therefore possibly occupied. The room he wanted was on the sixteenth floor, corner window on the east side. He'd asked for it specifically with this nighttime visit in mind. The trick was getting in without being seen.
Fortunately this hospital was not the most secure building he'd ever broken into, and he'd broken into a lot. With one last check of his surroundings the grapple dropped from his hand and he flung himself over the edge. He bent his body at the apex of the jump and then straightened as he fell, rolling his back when he felt the line begin to tighten. By the time the steel cord snapped taught he was prepared to loosen and then stiffen with it, effectively deadening any whiplash that would have traveled through his body. His boots landed in perfect unison on the concrete column separating the hospital windows. The hard stone softened the sound of his initial contact with the wall. He made no other noise as he quickly loosened his grip on the line and lowered himself to the room he wanted.
The window was dark. For the first moment in he didn't know how many years, a brief flutter struck at his heart before continuing further. He was nervous. Pulling a device from his belt, he attached it to the window and manipulated the lock open. Effortlessly, he melted into the darkened room as if one with the shadows there.
Careful footsteps took him to the edge of a hospital bed. A flashlight was already poised and ready in his hand. Deftly, he took the medical chart from where it hung on the metal bars and flipped through it, scanning over the sloppy doctor handwriting. Though their motives were decidedly less immoral, he didn't trust doctors to tell the truth any more than he trusted criminals. He was surprised to find there was nothing written in the files he hadn't already known. Carefully, he returned the clipboard to the exact place and position it had been in before he touched it. His gaze then trailed to the bed.
The flashlight nearly fell from his grasp. A pair of eyes was staring back at him, ones he had seen before, headlights in the darkness. They hadn't closed since it happened. They lay in bed all day and stared at the ceiling, unmoving, unresponsive. But now they were focused on him, processing....
A second, more powerful flutter sprung up in his chest. The eyes widened, drinking in the shadow watching over them, and then they began to scream.
Pure terror ricocheted off the walls. Within seconds footsteps could be heard in the hallway rushing to room 1655. He took a step backwards, darting eyes to the door. He wanted to stay. He had devoted his life to using this appearance to instill fear, but not like this. He wanted to take the mask off and show him it was okay, there was nothing to be afraid of. But the footsteps were growing closer.
There wasn't enough time. Spitting a curse, Batman leapt out the window and disappeared.
Tim's screams followed him into the night.
--------------------
It had been happening for a long time. J'onn would greet the others when they arrived in the watchtower and just somehow know, in one way or another, how they were feeling and what was going on in their lives. He thought it was his natural ability to read people. He knew how much Green Lantern and Hawkgirl cared for one another. He felt the heavy weight of responsibility on Superman's shoulders as he tried to lead fairly. He shared in Diana's longing whenever she thought of home and her exile. Yet all the while he remained unaware his powers were invading their minds, weaving their essences in alongside the phantom strings of his lifemate and children. J'onn now knew he wasn't the victim of the psychic assault.
He was the source.
His first instinct was to deny it, vehemently. He had tried so hard to exist peacefully among other races with his gifts. He was unwilling to accept a failure of this severity. As far as he knew a hybrid link wasn't even physically possible. Intent on proving it, he stretched his powers forth once again. Just as he had searched for M'yri'ah in the last hours of her life, he now sought a different group of signatures across a distance only a psychic link would allow. But part of him already knew what he was going to find.
Wonder Woman, Superman, Green Lantern, Flash, Hawkgirl, Batman....J'onn could feel them all as clearly as if their thoughts were his own. Disgusted, he tried to force the essences away from him, but they moved like smoke, parting only for a moment before rushing back. He sunk weakly against the glass.
Between two Martians such a bond would have been a symbol of utmost friendship and respect. It meant an individual trusted another enough to allow them access to the innermost recesses of their beings. But between two Martians it was a mutual process. Against J'onn's powerful gifts no one was ever given a choice. He could walk into the nearest prison this very moment and force anyone he touched to confess everything in their hearts. He could listen in on children's innocent prayers as they prepared to fall asleep. He could drive a human being insane with the slightest direction of will. He could even enslave the minds of the six people he held in highest regard.
In the end, he was no different than the Imperium.
--------------------
"You couldn't let it go, could you?"
Wonder Woman couldn't believe what she was hearing. She and Superman were currently flying away from Metropolis, safely covered by a thick layer of clouds separating them from the ground below. It was around a thousand feet higher than she had bothered to fly when first arriving in the city, but Superman had insisted on it.
"I think letting it go this far is what got us into this mess in the first place" she shot back, frustrated. They were forced to yell at each other to be heard over the wind, but Diana had a feeling even without the wind they would have been yelling anyway.
"What were you thinking? Talking to Lois right in front of the press?"
"Give me some credit, Superman. I wasn't going to say anything there. I was just securing a location to speak with Ms. Lane later. I had things under control."
"In plain view of the public? There must have been a hundred cameras watching you!"
"And? What difference does it make? Let them film until Hates calls them! We make the nine o'clock news at least three times a week, anyway."
"That's not the point, Diana…."
Their conversation broke off as they both pretended to concentrate on landing. Superman had led them to a heavily wooded area a few miles outside of town where he knew they wouldn't be bothered. He sometimes came here by himself when his powers needed a release. Contrary to popular belief, not every criminal provided a sufficiently stimulating workout. And he wasn't the type of person who could just go to the local gym to let off some steam.
He glanced over at Wonder Woman. He knew this wasn't getting him anywhere. The Amazons were a race of courageous women, equally as fierce in battle as they were in their beliefs. Diana's aloof view of the world made it near impossible to sway her from her opinions. The fact that she was royalty didn't help. She was getting better, but it was still sometimes hard for her to think open-mindedly on an issue she already thought she was right about.
"Not everything calls for subtlety, Superman" she said when she was tired of waiting for him to continue. "Sometimes you actually have to take action to get things done."
"Which is fine as long as you're the only one who has to pay the consequences. You could have made Lois a target out there, Diana."
"How so?"
"There were a thousand eyes on you. Lois didn't have anything to do with that crime. She was a random spectator you pulled out of the crowd and chose to have a word with. I could tell you two were speaking on a more-than-official level even without listening in. Someone might just put two and two together and think she's associated with the Justice League."
"That's quite a stretch."
"Big or small, a criminal wouldn't need an excuse to use her against us if he thought it would work."
"No offense, but you and Ms. Lane didn't exactly seem formal yourselves."
"And do you know how many times that's been used against me?! Do you know how many times her life has been put on the line because someone was trying to get to me?! Too many. I interact with a hundred people each day who are easier to get to than me, and Superman can't protect all of them, so I've got to make sure and protect them from Superman. That's why we have to be careful about who we draw into this. The criminals we fight aren't stupid, Diana. They know we're people, with family and friends and a dozen reasons to sell our souls just to keep them safe. They're always watching for an easier opening to get through. Some of them know how to get under your skin better than you can imagine."
Wonder Woman shook her head. "I don't see why any of you even bother to have personal relationships at all."
Superman's thoughts trailed to Lantern. "Some of us don't." There was a long, calm silence between them. "Why did you come here, Diana?"
Her eyes met his. "I came to ask about Batman."
"You mean Bruce."
"I wanted to be sure before I did anything."
"You could have come to me."
She recoiled, insulted. "I would never ask you to betray such a trust. Besides, I think everyone has made it clear how much they want to be involved."
Superman opened his mouth to protest but then closed it. "Fair enough."
"I wasn't going to confront Lane in public at all but, with the robbery, I figured I may as well take the opportunity."
"What made you think Lois even knew anything?"
She smiled. "Nice try. I saw Batman talking to her once."
Superman's face darkened. "When?"
"Recently. I could tell she knew him. All I needed to know was whether or not she knew Bruce Wayne."
"You could tell all that just by watching?"
She gave a girlish smile. "We pick up on these things."
"And what things would those be?" he asked with narrowed eyes.
Diana paused for a moment, studying him. "I think if you really want to know" she said carefully, "you'd be better off asking Ms. Lane yourself."
Women and their damn secrets. "So you were going to see him?"
Here Diana lost some of her confidence. Her eyes fell to the ground for a moment as she seemed to fish within herself for an answer that wasn't there. "I don't know. To say I wasn't considering it would be a lie. I know where to go...but...I'm not sure I'm welcome there yet."
Superman didn't say anything. He didn't have the heart to tell her she would probably never be welcome.
"Something about this is wrong" she continued. "You have to know it. I don't care how difficult Batman can get; he wouldn't do this without sending any word."
"I don't know about that."
"What if he's in trouble?"
"He's not. You think I would have sat on this if I thought he was?"
"….You know something."
"I thought the situation was a little off in the beginning so I went into Gotham myself."
"When?"
"A few weeks ago. Maybe three or four. I was going to speak with him personally but the closest I could get was cornering a thug he had recently terrorized. The guy was a wreck. Said Batman had hunted him for days looking for information. I asked what he wanted but the guy refused to say hardly anything. All I could figure out was that whatever all this is, it has something to do with the Joker. I let it drop after that. Batman would pursue him into the grave."
"Or someone else's" Diana added. She lapsed into silence for a moment, thinking. "So you think that's all this is?"
"He's clenching down on the city. Probably trying to reestablish control after whatever the Joker did to it. The criminals don't want to be caught in the crackdown so they're moving out where it's safer. Plain and simple." He caught the expression on her face. "....But you don't think so…."
"No. I'm not convinced. I'm going over there and I'm going to get some answers."
"You're really that intent on unearthing this?" he asked, obviously reluctant to hear the answer.
Diana nodded.
He paused, seeming to weigh something on his mind. "Then I think it'll be better if I go."
She immediately grew suspicious. "Why?"
Because you won't get a word out of him he wanted to retort.
You had to be careful when talking to Bruce. It was almost impossible to tell who you were talking to, or what he was really thinking. If you didn't stay on your guard he'd send you away with what you thought were adequate answers, until you got home and realized he hadn't said anything at all.
Superman would have loved to explain himself in detail to Diana, but he was far too exhausted with the whole situation. What he really needed was an answer that would end the debate flat and convince her to drop the subject. After rejecting several mental attempts, he finally decided on:
"It's guy stuff."
Diana's eyes narrowed but there wasn't much she could say. Flash had taken the time early on to give her an entire hour lecture on the meaning of 'guy stuff' and why she should leave it alone. Reluctantly—very reluctantly—she relented.
"Don't worry" Superman assured her. "I'll talk to him."
"Not any more than I believe the rumors about the radioactive samurai turtles living in our sewers."
Ok, I'll admit it. That entire section was done just so I could fit in that one line. I just, I couldn't help it! Lois Lane, April O'Neil! You gotta imagine they'd meet up with one another some time! I absolutely love crossing universes when it's done right, and the line, it was just so, so perfect, I had to put it in....Don't judge me!
(And don't worry, that was just a short cameo for fun. Other than JL/ROTJ, this isn't a crossover fic.)
Remember to check the livejournal account for updates on the stories. I hope you're enjoying the story so far!