Maplewood Avenue was tucked securely between Moonshire Crescent and Glenfield Boulevard. It was just as pretentious and luxurious as the names sounded, if not more so. As John stood on the sidewalk across the street, he felt the surprise wash over him. Nothing in this neighborhood was as he had expected. The too expensive coffee in his hands came from one of the numerous upscale boutiques that lined the posh neighborhood. Bright, exotic flowers sat in prim pots in front of the windows which were filled with fine clothes and foods. The smell of baked goods and spiced drinks floated down the sidewalks and made the many patrons of the area smile. They brushed past John as if they hardly noticed him, although his workout shorts and tight, long sleeved shirt hardly fit in with the sundresses, khakis and polos which most of the patrons wore.

The click of sandals filled the air as people walked back and forth on the paths. Most walked past the studio which held Raphael's Gym without a second glance. He couldn't blame them considering the small, plain sign sat low beside the doors made of black out glass. If he didn't know the address by heart, he would have assumed the building was vacant. After standing there for several moments, however, he knew that at least a few men and women had slipped into the building without much of a fuss.

Finally, the Lantern took the last sip of his coffee, tossed the canister in the trash, and crossed the street with an air of determination.

His pace matched that of a girl with long, blonde hair that swung from a tight ponytail. Her earphones blocked out the noise of his approaching footsteps, and even if she hadn't worn them, she was too focused on her goal to notice the stranger falling into step behind her. She reached out of the door, but John beat her to it, opening it politely.

The shy young woman smiled slightly, and entered the studio ahead of him. John followed just closely enough that it would be assumed they were together but not quite close enough to worry her. Sure enough, the grey suited man behind the counter barely batted an eye when John walked in with the girl. He probably assumed the two were dating or friends at the least. Behind the dark glasses, John's eyes lit up just a bit and he smirked in victory. Now he just had to find whatever that troublesome boy believed John needed to see here.

As he walked past the narrow hall of lockers, the building suddenly opened up to a high roofed space. A balcony held traditional machines while the lower level sported gymnastics equipment, punching bags, a rock climbing wall, and even some full boxing rings. Electronic music pumped through the speakers overhead, but everyone in the gym seemed intently working on their craft.

John scanned the room quietly, considering where to begin. Nothing stood out at him initially.

Then, one of the pairs in the boxing ring started to circle each other. The short figure whose back had been turned moved into his line of vision, and immediately the clue made sense. Shayera's bright eyes and smart grin gave her away even if the dark freckles which dotted her face made her seem like a stranger. Not a second after he noticed her, the short woman ducked down, leg thrusting outward, and knocked her much larger opponent off his feet. A man nearly twice her size suddenly fell to the floor with a shockingly loud thud. A few fellow athletes turned at the noise, but almost immediately turned back to their work. John couldn't help but smile.

The hero slowly made his way toward the pair as Shayera offered her hand to the fallen man. John could hear her advice as he approached them, "You can't underestimate someone for a second because of their size. You have to anticipate their moves and be ready at all times."

"Yeah, yeah." The man said even as he took her hand.

As she pulled him up, she stressed, "I'm being serious, Patrick. You don't think I could've knocked your teeth out if I wanted to?"

The man wiped the sweat from his forehead, "I know you could. I'm just exhausted. Can we take a break?"

Shayera spotted John over Patrick's shoulder. Her subtle flinch gave away that she recognized him, and she quickly agreed with the other man, "Let's call it a day. I'll see you on Thursday."

"Yeah. See you." The man said as he hurried out of the ring.

Slowly removing her boxing gloves with her teeth, Shayera made her way to the edge of the ring. It was on a raised platform, so even once she bent down to swing her legs over the side, she still sat just a bit taller than him. He leaned against the edge as he observed, "Nice move. Could've gone a little easier on him, though."

"Why would I do that?" She said with a raised eyebrow.

John laughed. She was just the same as always.

She frowned as she considered the implications of his arrival and asked, "I'm not sure why you're here. Didn't Iggy pay you back the money he owed you?"

John sighed, "He gave me what I was looking for."

Shayera's eyes narrowed, "That's not cryptic."

He remained silent for several moments. Shayera…Summer, he supposed he should call her… watched him carefully. Finally, she laughed said, "Fine. Don't tell me. Whatever is going on between you and Iggy is none of my business."

"Where did you learn to fight like that anyway?" John changed the subject.

Her blue eyes narrowed slightly. She was silent for several moments as she considered whether or not to tell him, and he noticed that her hand subconsciously moved to a thin gold band on her left ring finger. There were no jewels, just a light pattern, but she spun in carefully. Finally, she sighed and answered, "I used to live in Chicago. My fiance, Zane, and I lived...let's say interesting lives. You pick things up."

John frowned, "What happened?"

She smiled sadly, "Another story for another time."

He nodded in understanding. Her head tilted to the side, ponytail bouncing at the motion, as she spoke, "But you didn't come here to hear my life story. What brought you?"

"Iggy...well, he's helping me with something." John said thoughtfully.

Summer's mouth dropped slightly, and she cocked her head as if in consideration of some implausible thought. Her arms crossed over her head, balancing on one of the red ropes above as she leaned forward. Quietly, she asked as her eyes glanced at their nearby surroundings, "Oh, my god. Are you a fed?"

"What?" His eyes widened in surprised.

She laughed in disbelief, "You are! It makes so much sense. You go around with this weird sense of self righteousness, you scan every room when you enter looking for threats, you walk like a cop, you talk like a cop…" She shakes her head with a smile, "Who would have thought my drug dealing roommate is a snitch."

Now it was time for John's jaw to drop, "Iggy's a drug dealer?"

She giggled, "Not anymore. But once upon a time…."

John gritted his teeth. Of course the stupid demi-god's identity was an ex-drug dealer. No wonder Shayera thought Iggy owed him money. His fists clenched in frustration, but Shayera continued to smile in understanding. Finally she reached forward to shake his shoulder playfully, "Hey, don't be mad. It's good that Iggy's finally using his contacts for something that won't get him locked up."

John sighed, "Where is he anyway?"

Shayera pointed at the balcony overhead. Then she winked, "Just careful with him. There are some secrets you don't want to know, even if it helps you break a case."

And with that, she slid to the ground and strode toward the locker rooms.

John's gaze followed the point of her finger to see the blonde man leaning against the metal railing overhead. His sweaty blonde hair was pushed back from a slightly red, smirking face, and his eyes glimmered with a spark of victory. While Iggy watched the exchange, his head bobbed happily to the beat of whatever music his earphones played. The Lantern glowered as he stalked towards the stairs. Before he left, that mischievous spirit had some explaining to do, and this time, he wouldn't slip away