Disclaimer:

Mists is seen playing "Ghostbusters: The Video Game" on her TV.

Hawk and Dove look at her expectantly.

Mists: "Hehehee! Die Marshmellon! DIE!" (Yes, I have been watching Star Trek V, too.)

Dove: "Uh…Mists…I thought you said we were doing the show today?"

Mists: "Huh? Oh…Oh yeah! The show…duh…start without me…."

Hawk & Dove just give each other a look and then start to sing with air guitars: "Hank's World! Hank's World! Party time! EXCELLENT!"

Dove: "Welcome back to 'Hank's World!'"

Hawk: "This week's-"

Dove: "Or rather month's topic is…movies!"

Hawk: "As in, Why companies still allow bad movies to be made?"

Dove: "It is quite the conundrum really. If you want to make money, then you need a good script. Why spend millions of dollars to make a BAD movie?!"

Hawk coughing: "Dragonball."

Dove: "Yes! Exactly! Don't they have people to read over the scripts and evaluate the concepts BEFORE they make it into a film? Mists and I thought of at least seven other ways the movie could have been written in order to still reach the main demographic."

Hawk: "In other words, Ozaru could have written a better script blindfolded!"

Dove: "It is common sense, shell out a bit more money on the script and get a bigger return. That's all there is to it!"

Hawk: "Give the characters personalities that aren't one dimensional so that the audience can relate to them."

Dove: "And above all, if you're working from an established franchise, do your homework! Drastically changing a character's personality to the point that they aren't even recognizable is just stupid!"

Hawk coughing: "Goku, Deadpool, Peter in Spiderman 3."

Dove: "Now that isn't to say that some character changes can't be made, but they have to be plausible and have a logical progression to them."

Hawk: "If you want to see a good example, go watch Star Trek. Spock changed quite a bit from his original incarnation, but the changes were logical and were brought on by life changing events."

Dove: "The point is there is no excuse anymore. So stop making bad movies! Well that's it for Hank's World! Any parting words of wisdom, Mists?"

Mists: "Smores –away! Mmm….ectoplasmic mello-fluff…I need chocolate and gram crackers stat!"

Hawk and Dove sweatdrop.

Hawk: "Mists owns nothing. Now on with the main event!"

-Back to Basics-

-Wally's POV-

"For the last time Shayera, get that bottle of oil away from me!!" yelled Wally as he and Shayera stood on the roof of Ma and Pa Kent's farmhouse.

"Look Wally," sighed Shayera as she shoved the bottle into his face, "If you want to get off the ground, your feathers have to be oiled and properly aligned. Otherwise, you're just going to fall on your ass."

Wally grumbled half heartedly as he grabbed the bottle from Shayera's hand. She then reached into her jean's pocket and took out a large pair of tweezers.

Flash eyed her warily. "Shy…what are those things for?"

"Preening," she said with an evil smile as she slowly stocked towards Wally's wings.

"Eep!" yelped Wally as he ran away from Shayera. "Leave my feathers alone, you sadistic woman!"

"Aw…come on Wally. Don't get your feathers in a ruffle!" Shayera laughed as she chased the former speedster around the roof.

Wally then stopped and looked back at her with his shoulders slumped. "You're going to throw every bad bird joke I've ever made, right back in my face, aren't you?"

"You got it, Birdnose," she growled and tackled Wally to the roof making the shingles and the bottle of oil fly into the air.

"Yah-oww!" screamed Wally as she plucked the first feather.

An omniscient voice from below then bellowed, "STOP DESTROYING MY PARENTS' HOUSE YOU TWO!"

And so the two heroes finally got to work.

"Okay," said Shayera, "the first thing we are going to learn is the dynamics of lift. Please come over and stand by me, Wally."

Wally inched away, reluctant to get that close to the edge of the roof.

"Uh…can't we stand back a bit further while we discuss this?" asked Wally as he shifted uncomfortably.

Shayera narrowed her eyes at him. "Wally, this fear of heights you have is ridiculous. You face flying everyday, why is it hard to do now?"

"I never said I was scared of them, I said I don't like them. Did ever occur to you the reason I don't likeheights is because I'm always falling from them on a regular basis?!"

"So? I'm always falling from them, too."

"But you can fly, woman!"

Shayera just shrugged. "Whatever…"

"And you're one to talk! Didn't Dr. Destiny make you think you were falling?"

"Yeah, into a grave. Claustrophobia is a way more sensible fear, Wally. Now get your butt over here!" she exclaimed and pointed to her side.

Wally grumbled about her still being a hypocrite while slowly getting into place.

"All right then," said Shayera as she extended her arms, "A wing is naturally shaped in order to cause air to move faster over the top part of the wing rather than the lower. This air flow causes lift."

Shayera then started to move her arms forward, out, and back in big circles. "Imagine that you're swimming. Except the air is the water, and instead of using your arms to propel yourself forward, your using your wings."

Wally nodded and started to move his wings around in a similar motion.

"Good," she complemented with a smile. "Essentially, what you're doing is stirring up the air so that it will give you greater lift when you take off."

Wally gave her a nod and started to flap his wings faster.

"Now, as I already told you. The alignment of your feathers is very important. You can adjust them in order to alter the flow of air over the wing."

"Sure…uh… how do I do that now?" asked Wally perplexed.

Shayera rolled her eyes. "Okay, think of you wing as a hand."

She then lifted up her hand and spread her fingers apart. "Relax, and spread your feathers like you would the fingers of your hand."

Wally shut his eyes and did as he was told.

"Wow! Cool!" he exclaimed when he opened his eyes. "I didn't realize I could flex them like that."

Shayera let out a good natured chuckle and clapped her hands. "Okay, now that we've got the basics down, it's time for you to try to take off."

"Sweet! Now, how do I do that?"

"Go to the farthest edge of the roof. Start to flap your wings like I taught you to do. Run across the roof…and jump."

"Jump?" Wally squeaked out as he looked down at the ground.

"Jump," repeated Shayera as she grabbed his arm and towed him towards the side of the roof.

"Uh…Shy? Shouldn't we go over a few more things first before I try this?" he whined as he fought her iron grip.

Wally was actually quite pleased to discover that in this form, he was physically stronger than Shayera. His small bit of resistance stopped her right in her tracks.

But Wally's victory was short lived when he saw the venomous glare Shayera sent him when she realized this as well.

"You listen to me, you little brat," she growled as she shoved her finger into his chest. "Just because you're a bit stronger than me right now, doesn't mean I still can't beat the crap out of you."

Wally gulped and quickly nodded his head. He so did not want Shayera pissed at him right now. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Good, now go take a flying leap…literally.." she said with a shove.

Wally sighed as he got into position. "Boy that was close. Oh man…I hope my wings are enough to support my weight. I know they work for Shayera…but still…"

Seeing Wally's hesitation, Shayera called out, "Look, the only way you'll learn is by doing it. We aren't up that high, and I know enough about John's powers to know how to catch you if you fall."

She then gestured to the Green Lantern ring she now wore. "Now stop being a wuss and go!"

Wally took a deep cleansing breath and started to flap his wings in a circular motion. He could feel the wind whip around him as he began to focus on the task at hand.

"Okay…good…come on Wally, you can do this!" he thought as she looked to Shayera again.

"What's a matter Wally, chicken?" Shayera squawked and flapped her arms.

"All right! All right! Just no more bird jokes!" he groused.

"Then move it, birdbrain!"

"Oh man this is a bad idea!" thought Wally and closed his eyes.

And with that, Wally ran to the edge of the roof and jumped. He gained lift for just a second and then quickly took a nosedive right into Mr. Kent's pile of manure.

Wally felt a tendril of familiar green energy grasp his leg and shatter just as he smacked face first into the large mound of cow poop.

"Damn it…I knew it! But I still did it anyway!" thought Wally as he sat up and spat into the pile.

"Uh….well!" said Shayera as she hid her ringed hand behind her back. "Guess I didn't know as much as I thought, huh?"

"Yah think?!" yelled Wally with an angry flap of his wings.

"Well…at least you fell on something soft, right?"

Wally just groaned and smacked his head back into the pile, clearly defeated.

Shayera, adding even more insult to injury, went for one more jab. "Look on the bright side. At least you can dig up a wormy little snack while you're in there!"

The former speedster just growled and threw a handful of manure at her.

Several failed attempts later; Wally finally was able to get up enough momentum for lift off. As he hovered near the edge of the roof Shayera still stood on, he asked, "Okay, now what?"

"Now, I'll teach you how to turn. Birds use their tails to steer. Since Thanagarians don't have tails, we use our legs."

"Makes sense," said Wally as he beat his wings to fly a bit higher.

"Picture yourself as if you're on a hang-glider. If you shift your weight to the right, you'll turn left. If you lean your legs left, you'll go right. Get it?"

"Yup!" piped Wally as he flew straight ahead for a few moments and then shifted his legs left to turn right. With a few good beats of his wings, he turned around and went back.

This was actually not as bad as he thought. The more time he spent in the air, the less he tense he felt. When he was little, Wally loved to swim and always dreamed of flying through the air just like he glided through the water. He really couldn't remember when he started to hate heights. It was just one day, he suddenly did.

Wally frowned at that…but quickly shook the offending thought away. After performing six, big figure-eight loops over the Kent house; he was starting to get a bit tired.

"Shy," called Wally. "Can we go over gliding now? I'm getting a little tired up here."

"We need strong currents for that Wally. So we're going to cover that somewhere else a little later. For right now, I want you to try to come in for a landing."

"Well…okay…" said Wally as he circled closer to the ground.

"Now," Shayera said through cupped hands, "adjust the angle of your wings so the speed is slowed, but you still have lift. You don't want to go into a dive."

Wally called out, "Got it."

"Think of your wings acting like a parachute. Open up and close your feathers to regulate your fall…then gently descend back to the ground."

Wally really had to give Shayera credit. She was a great teacher. Her analogies were quite creative and helpful. But if he told her that, he'd never hear the end of it. So with a small grin; he decided to keep his mouth shut.

It took a little bit of doing, but Wally finally got the speed right.

"Oh ..gahh…ugh…" he grunted out as he stumbled on the landing. He had fallen a little harder than he had intended, but overall, it wasn't too bad.

"See," said Shayera, "like shootin' ducks in a barrel!"

Wally just sighed, knowing she wasn't going to let up any time soon. "Sure Shayera...whatever…"

"Great, then after a twenty minute break, it's off to the Smallville water tower!"

"Wait- what?!" exclaimed Wally as his eyes bugged out of his head.

"Well it's the highest point around here, Wally. If you want to learn how to glide on air currents you're just going to have to suck it up," she stated nonchalantly as she gave Wally a good pat on the back.

"B-But- but," he stammered as he tried to think of a way out of this. "But that's in town! We'll be seen! And they could trace us back to the Kent's then!"

Shayera just snorted at this. "Please, the people around here are so oblivious they never even noticed a teenaged Clark flying around. What makes you think we're any less conspicuous?"

Wally started to answer for a moment, but then stopped conceding that she indeed had a point.

"Yeah…true…but still," he muttered worriedly thinking of the Kent family.

"Aww…don't lay an egg. Bruce got some amulets from Dr. Fate before we left so that we could all practice flying with out being detected," she answered with a bored shrug.

"That Bats. He always thinks of everything," thought Wally admiringly.

"Well…in that case, guess I'm game…" he conceded as he and Shayera walked toward the farmhouse.

It was then that a thought dawned on Wally.

"Oh ..my god..." he whispered as he quickly tried to cover his mouth to contain his laughter.

"What?" Shayera asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Bats! He…of all the powers he could have gotten.." wheezed of the former speedster laughing quite hard.

"Yeah, come on out with it!"

"M-mine's the only one where he still can't fly!" he burst out and slapped his thigh.

Shayera's laughter quickly exploded after his. It took a full two minutes for them to calm down enough to make their way to farmhouse for some of Martha Kent's world famous lemonade.

-Bruce's POV-

For some reason…Bruce was in quite the grumpy mood.

Yes, even for him.

Maybe it was being out here in the middle of nowhere…maybe it was all the coffee he was drinking…maybe it was that he still had no idea what the Guild was after, and maybe it was the fact that Shayera and Wally wouldn't look him in the eye when they came in to get the amulets ten minutes ago.

But whatever it was; had him really on edge….super-speed aside of course.

He had already taken ten runs around the Kent's property that morning. And considering how many acres they owned, that was no small feat.

Bruce was taking no chances. Wally had reminded him of the consequences of not exercising before he went out with Shayera that morning. Bruce shivered at the thought of phasing out like Wally had.

No, he was certainly not going to risk that.

Bruce took another sip of his coffee as he made his way to the living room where J'onn and Diana were meditating. It was still a little strange to see the two together after the transformation. J'onn was teaching her how to shield her mind from other's thoughts.

No wonder she had reacted so badly when she first woke up. The voices nearly drove her mad.

Luckily, J'onn's mind had grasped the situation the moment he regained consciousness. He anchored her mind until she could practice shielding.

"Diana…" he thought remorsefully as he quickly exited the room. It would do her no good to read his conflicting thoughts about her. In some ways, he was starting to open up to her, while in others…he still… simply couldn't find the strength.

With a sigh, he walked toward the kitchen where Martha was working at the stove. Bruce allowed himself a rare smile as he stared at the woman. Mrs. Kent was just about as kind as they came. She had welcomed their little group into her home with open arms.

It was quite evident how much she missed having her son around. She doted on all of them as if they were her own. Bruce had been over to the Kent's home a couple of times before. Clark always invited him over for holidays as well…Especially since Tim had left home.

But…Bruce could never seem to get comfortable here. There were too many living reminders of the family he had lost.

Deep down…he felt he deserved to be lonely. It was his punishment for living when the rest of his family died.

Being alone was safe.

He would hurt no one and no one would hurt him.

But people…like life…sometimes won't take no for an answer.

Alfred, Dick, Barbara, Tim, Diana, …Wally.

All the Kent's just happen to fall on that list as well.

No matter how hard he tried to keep them out, they all still tried to come in.

They would tire eventually; he always told himself.

But now… he wasn't so sure anymore.

"Hello, Bruce. Do you need anything?" asked Mrs. Kent as she put on her oven mitts.

"No, Martha. I'm quite alright, thank you," said Bruce as he sat down with his cup at the kitchen table.

The sudden, loud, growl of his stomach protested this statement though.

"Damn Wally and his stupid power!" thought Bruce as Ma Kent sent him a disapproving look.

"Now Bruce," she stated frankly. "You have Wally's powers right now and you need to learn how to take better care of yourself."

"I take good care of myself, Martha," he replied gently.

As Mrs. Kent opened the oven she said, "Staying up all hours of the night, getting shot at, delaying to treat wounds, and not eating is not what I call proper care."

"And just how do you know that?" grumbled Bruce in reply.

"I know you Bruce, that's why," she said with a huff as she took the apple pie out of the oven.

"Call it mother's intuition. Now, go outside and play with the others for a bit while I fix up a little something to tide you over until dinner, okay?" said Martha as she put down the pie and went to open the window.

"Phew!" she exclaimed and fanned a hand in front of her nose. "Land's sake that manure is ripe! I wonder why Jonathan decided to put it so close to the house this time?"

Bruce quickly retreated outside suppressing a laugh. He knew exactly why Mr. Kent put it there….

Because Bruce had asked him to.

"Fun and Games" actually did seem to be the order of business when Bruce found Clark and John outside.

"Okay….now….PULL!" exclaimed Clark as he set off the trap to launch another skeet shooting disk into the air.

John locked his sight on the target and shot it down with his laser-eye vision.

"Skeet shooting?" asked Bruce as he approached the duo.

"Target practice and eye control really," said Clark as he walked over to Bruce.

"Yeah, I can finally open my eyes again," replied John with more than a little relief. "Thanks, man."

"No problem, John," said Clark with a smile.

"Feel up for up for a little training session yourself, Clark?" asked Bruce casually.

Clark blinked at this. "But Bruce, I didn't get any pow-" said Clark as he clearly stopped short of saying something that just might get him killed.

"Uh- I mean sure Bruce! That-that sounds, great. I'll uh- set the trap up to shoot automatically for John, so he can work on his super-hearing, too. Okay?"

John nodded his head and quickly made his getaway before Bruce decided to "teach" him as well.

Bruce glared at the man's back as he beat a hasty retreat.

He then turned his sights back to their original target.

"Clark, you being powerless means you need to train harder than anyone," said Bruce seriously as they walked toward a large field.

"If you're going to be wearing the Bat-suit for a while-"

"I know Bruce, I just thought you'd make me sit this one out. You're always telling me that without my powers I'm- Wait, you're…you want me to fight? And-and to wear your suit?!" exclaimed Clark in surprise.

"I never said you were useless. I said you were reckless; which you are," said Bruce with a glare. "Meaning that you need to understand your limitations in this form. If you're going to fight, I want you to be prepared."

"But- you trust me to wear the Bat-suit? Even without my powers?" inquired Clark sincerely.

Bruce stopped and stared at Clark. It really amazed him sometimes what a humble, shy person he was under all those powers.

"Yes, Clark. I do," he said simply and motioned for the boy scout to get into a fighting stance.

Clark just smiled shyly and followed suit.

"First lesson," said Bruce as he sped forward and punched Clark in the stomach…hard.

As Clark coughed and doubled over, the voice from above said coldly, "You are mortal, remember it."

It went on like this for hours with some breaks in between when Martha would bring out sandwiches for Bruce. Ma Kent had to repeatedly slap Clark's hand away when he tried to take one.

"But Ma…I'm hungry!"

"Bruce has a hyper-metabolism and you don't. You'll just have to wait for dinner young man," she'd reply and waited until Bruce started to eat before she'd leave.

With Wally's super-speed, Bruce evaded every punch Clark threw. He'd stop, fix Clark's stance and then they'd be off again in a second.

Finally, six o'clock rolled around and Martha called them all in for dinner.

To say that Bruce was a little miffed when he saw Shayera help a limping Wally into the kitchen was an understatement.

"I thought you were going to train him, not break him, Shayera," said John as he leapt up to help Wally into a kitchen chair.

Bruce just glared menacingly at Shayera until she started to explain.

"Look, he lost control when an air current suddenly died down. I flew up to catch him but my power gave out and we landed hard."

"I'm fine guys…" Wally grumbled. "My ankle twisted a bit when I landed. It'll be fine by tomorrow."

"But kid…remember, you don't have your powers right now," replied John seriously.

"I know. Don't worry, I already took that into account John," returned the former speedster as he caught the glare that Bruce was still giving Shayera.

"It wasn't her fault, Bats."

"Still," said Bruce as Mr. Kent joined the others at the table, "Shayera, I think you should train with John tomorrow."

"But what about Wal-"

Bruce halted her with a hand, "Wally and I need to get some training in as well. Face it Shayera, you don't have a good enough grasp of the Lantern power to be of any use in a fight at this point."

The former birdgirl scowled at him and took her seat beside Wally.

"Fine," was her disgruntled reply. She then purposely turned away from John's gaze.

"Okay, then. It's dinnertime everyone. No more fights at the table," said Pa Kent as they all quieted down. Martha then brought out a slice of her famous apple pie and placed it in front of Wally.

"Since you got hurt today; you get to have a piece before dinner, dear," she said sweetly and ruffled Wally's hair.

"Really?!" he asked excitedly as his eyes lit up. "Oh boy!" he exclaimed and dug into the treat vigorously.

"Hey! I got hurt, too…" whined Clark. "Why don't I get any pie?"

"Oh hush up you," said Mrs. Kent as she playfully smacked Clark on the head with her dish towel. "You'll get yours soon enough. Now be a good boy and help me bring in the ham."

"Yes, Ma…" he pouted and went off to help his mother in the kitchen.

Bruce noticed how the tension that they had all been feeling seemed to break at that point. Everyone was starting to come to terms with what had happened to them. And being on the Kent farm, surrounded by such love, was a good way to heal.

Bruce would never admit it… but it Clark was right about coming here.

-Morgan's POV-

"Rumpere!" yelled Morgan at the large gravestone. The plain slab of rock burst into a thousand pieces with a large crack. The pieces fell down into the hole with a crash as she waited for the dust to settle.

Morgan then glance into newly opened cavern hidden below. It was the entrance to an ancient catacomb.

She had discovered the location of this long forgotten network after much research. It was rumored to have been a hideout of some of Merlin's disciples.

The sorceress snapped her fingers to bring forth a green flame that danced in the palm of her hand. Slowly, she descended into the ancient muck of spider roots and decayed corpses. She walked through the labyrinth in silence; as hope for a solution began to build in her chest. Could it be that she had finally found it? The most powerful book of spells in existence….the one that was said to hold the power to turn mortals into gods?

"An immortal life was not the one meant for us, sister. Why can't thee just accept that?" whispered a long dead voice in her mind.

"Entra," she thought with anger, remembering her reply.

"We art far more powerful than Oberon! The throne, as the rulers of the Fey, should be ours! But no, we were cursed from birth…to be mortals. Not only that but to be women in a world dominated by men. To be owned and seen as merely things instead of the powerful beings that we art!"

"Thine hatred will destroy thee sister; just as it did mother. Do not sink under the weight of evil. Rise above it, become more than thou art now. Vengeance will find thee no peace."

"That is exactly what I'm trying to do sister. With Mordred at my side, I shall rule the realms of the mortals, demons, and gods," she said to the shadows. But in her mind the past conversation continued,

"Art thou suggesting I become a lapdog of the gods as Nimue set out to do?"

"No, sister. I am saying thee misunderstand the gift thine hath been given."

"A gift? To watch my beauty and power fade…to grow old, useless, and die?"

"Whoever said death was a curse?"

"Then enjoy thy mortal life sister, for I shall not join thee in the grave. Death is not my master. I shall be the master of it. It is my choice."

"Yes. As it must be, my sister… for all mortal beings."

"Yes, the path I chose was the correct one," she answered to herself as she entered the ruins of an underground study. She quickly made her way to the book shelves, and founding nothing of value. Then she ripped through the stacks of scrolls in the corner.

All useless.

Lastly, she came upon a large, bound tome that sat on a pedestal. As she approached it, Morgan noticed the tapestry which hung directly behind.

It was a woven image… of Merlin himself.

"Come to watch my victory, dear one?" the sorceress asked the piece of cloth as she reached for the book.

"After all this time, I can actually say to your face….I win," she laughed and threw open the cover of the book.

Her laughter quickly died and became an enraged yell as she beheld the title….

"The Disciple's Almanac."

"An almanac. All this for a pathetic illustrated almanac!" she screamed and whirled around to face the image of the man she loathed with every ounce of her being.

"Curse you!" Morgan yelled as she changed her nails into long vicious claws. She ripped and tore at the tapestry with all her rage, spiting curses at it all the way,

"Damn you, wizard! You could have had everything! We could have ruled together at the cost of one life. One simple life! And we would have been free!"

Finally her anger gave out and she fell to her knees and wept.

"Curse you for all eternity…my rival…my enemy …my hatred………my husband…"

Suddenly, Morgan's despair shattered with the sound of an ethereal voice.

"Daughter of Queen Mab, Descendent of Gaia, First born of the Sisters Weird…."

Morgan looked up at the dark cloaked figure that now stood over her crouched form.

"We… the Guild…have a proposition for you."

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Notes: So do I have your attention? Is everyone hooked now? Hehehe! I hope so!

And yes, before anyone asks Morgan's past shall be gone over in greater detail later in the story. And once again, this is my own version of Arthurian legend. I'm using my author's license to create a new and interesting version.

Also, sorry once again that this chapter took so long. The next one won't be so long of a wait, I promise.

Okay, now I need everyone's help. I'm running out bird jokes for Shayera to use on Wally. XD So I need more! So please suggest some when you review and if I like it, I'll find a way to work it in a give you credit for it.

Lastly, I'd like to thank all my loyal fans for staying with me. I'm going to give you the best story I can. It may take a while to get done, but I will finish it. And please go see my profile page to see all the great fan art people have been drawing for me! They are all so great!

And now, I leave you with….

Next time!

Trial and Error: It's finally here, Shayera and John conflict abound! And what about the Guild and Morgan?! What are they up to now? All this and more Wally in the next installment of The Double Edged Sword.

Review time people!