A/N: Thank you for the reviews!

Chapter Eleven—Battleships

Unfortunately, Sarah's resolution to back away from the League didn't quite go as planned. Within days, the League had come under a deluge of attacks and cases, requiring everyone on deck. There had been an avalanche in Tibet, another bomb in London, and a concentrated Intergang attack in Metropolis. She could hardly pull away with all of that going down.

At the moment, though, it was the attack on Metropolis that was causing problems. Or rather, the aftermath.

"Sarah," Diana pleaded, watching her daughter pace furiously and clench her hands repeatedly, "calm down. Please. There's nothing you can do about it now–"

"Nothing would need doing now if someone had listened to me in the first place! Get out of the way, Mom! The Founders have wasted enough time–"

"Reaper!"

Sarah's mouth snapped at the tone of voice that issued from her father. "Without adequate proof other than your suspicions, you understand perfectly why no action could be taken before now."

She nodded curtly. "I understand."

"The League needs as many metas with super-strength as possible; it's by far the most useful weapon we have, as well as the most commonly used."

"I understand."

There was a pause, and then even League protocol and the original Batman's opinion could keep her silent anymore. "No, you know what, I don't understand. I can cope with Uncle Clark, I can; he's a good man, and years around you two have instilled some good sense into him, but that idiot may as well be the Hulk for all the tactical intelligence she displays. She almost cost Warhawk his life because she's incapable of following a simple order, not to mention–"

She cut off to yet again push down the picture of Rex's vibrant green eyes gone lifeless and cold. Damn Michaela! When the Intergang attack in Metropolis started, among the Leaguers dispatched to deal with it had been Supergirl and Warhawk. Facing Giganta, Michaela had decided that the best way to deal with the giantess was to bring an entire skyscraper down on her—without checking to see if it was occupied or not. It had been occupied by only one person: Rex, in there to make sure all the civilians had been safely evacuated. He had literally been impaled on a thin steel girder that went right through the left side of his armor and chest, narrowly missing his heart. As it was he had a dislocated elbow and a punctured lung. He'd also had to undergo surgery to stop internal bleeding.

Sarah, on patrol at Gotham at the time, had only been told of what had happened on returning to the Cave. She was now fighting tooth and nail to get back out of the Cave and up to the Watchtower. Though whether it was to see Rex's condition for herself or to shove Supergirl out an airlock was anyone's guess, even her own.

Her father spoke. "What are suggesting, Reaper? That we remove her from the League?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "I understand that her father is one of the Founders, but even taking into consideration she's the second-strongest Leaguer—or close to it—she is more of a danger than an asset. Until she learns that simply charging in like a bull in a china shop is not always the best course of action, she can't be counted on! At the very least she needs to be put on probation and go through tactical training before she can resume missions."

"Is that your recommendation too, Prometheus?" Diana asked.

Nick looked decidedly uncomfortable, and shifted slightly. "Sometimes...she doesn't always stick to the plan..."

"Thinking on your feet is a useful skill too," Bruce noted. "Improvisation has saved my life many times."

Sarah scoffed. "You're assuming she does any thinking at all. There's a difference between improvisation when the plan goes wrong and not following it from the start." She forced herself to calm down. "If the mission is to break down walls, or beat bad guys to within an inch of their lives, then yeah, Supergirl is the right choice. But the League is not a collection of thugs, it's an organization entrusted with a serious civic responsibility. I understand that, Nicky does, Rex, even Jonathan understands that, and we're all valuable members. Michaela is a menace. She can't be controlled—except with Kryptonite—and all she brings to the League is a pretty face and super-strength. Neither of which we are in short supply of."

There was a silence. She'd raised good points, not that Nick wanted to admit it. "Perhaps we should discuss this further," Diana suggested.

Sarah wasn't having any of it. "How about you 'discuss it', Mom, I've said all I need to." She turned and moved to the Batwing, climbing inside and sitting in the pilot's seat.

"Where are you going?" her mother asked.

"The Watchtower. To check on Rex," was the short answer.

Once she'd gone with barely a whisper of noise into the night, Diana turned to her son. "Does she like Rex? Romantically?"

Nick hesitated. "I... I'm not sure. Sometimes even I don't know what's going on with Sarah, but... I think so, yeah."

Diana nodded. "So her feelings for Rex might be clouding her judgment about Michaela."

"Perhaps," Bruce allowed, "but she still raised some valid points. Supergirl leads with her fists, not anything else."

"Not so different from Uncle Clark then," Nick muttered.

"No," Diana said, shaking her head. "Clark leads with his heart. Unless there's a reason to fight, he'd prefer not to."

"Michaela has a heart too!" Nick defended.

The heat in his tone was not missed by either parent, but no comment about it was passed. "I'm sure she does, little sun, but–"

"If your sister is right—and I'm inclined to think she is—then Supergirl believes that her strength is enough for her to be an asset to the League. Reaper's right; the way she uses it, it could actually be more of a danger."

When Sarah entered the infirmary, her eyes flew to the only occupied bed. He was still unconscious, but was breathing steadily and deeply. Auntie Shay, of course, had refused to leave him, and still had her green eyes trained on his closed ones, her face as pale as Sarah's had been when he'd first been injured.

Sarah came in and put a hand on her adopted aunt's shoulder. "How is he?"

"Same," Shayera said hoarsely.

"And when was the last time you slept?" Sarah asked kindly.

"What time is it?"

"Twelve."

"Then...twenty six hours ago, give or take?"

Sarah sat on Rex's other side. "Go home, Auntie Shay. I'll stay with him. Get some rest, and I'll let you know as soon as he wakes up."

Shayera was about to reply that she was fine before a huge yawn burst from her mouth. Sarah smirked, and Shayera narrowed her eyes, pointing. "Don't start imitating your father on me, young lady."

Sarah obligingly wiped the smirk from her face. "Sorry."

Shayera smiled, kissed her son on his forehead and then squeezed Reaper's shoulder before leaving, looking knackered right down to the wing-tips.

Sarah moved into the seat her aunt had just vacated, and watched Rex sleep. Now that she knew he'd be alright, she could just...look at him without too much panic. In fact it was very restful. He really was...beautiful. She pulled off one of her gloves and, after a pause, ran the tips of her fingers along his face, from forehead to chin. She pulled back a little, watching her hand tremble. She swallowed, then brushed the pad of her thumb as lightly as possible along his bottom lip. And then along her own.

Hera, there wasn't an escape. She'd tried cutting him out of her life, but it was like cutting her own leg off. She'd tried leaving the League—but clearly it couldn't function without someone keeping Supergirl in check. And the result was she felt guilty for something she hadn't done. She hadn't nearly killed anyone, she hadn't made any stupid choices. And she still felt lighter every time Rex walked into the room.

Watching him like this was something she could easily imagine herself doing. After...other activities, of course. The picture that her mind formed was so vivid she actually blushed. Unfortunately, it was into this moment that Rex stirred, and then woke up. Sarah was still looking down at her hand, and jumped when he spoke.

"Reaper?"

Her head snapped up, and she gasped. "Great Hera!"

He chuckled, then almost immediately stopped as pain lanced through his ribs. "Stop laughing," Sarah said, "you'll just make it worse."

He put his none-bandaged hand to his ribs and carried on. "Worth it though."

She rolled her eyes. "Not fair," she muttered. "Everyone else I can just..."

"Glare into submission?" he asked.

"Exactly. How are you feeling?"

"Like I had a truck run over me," he replied.

Sarah growled. "You did—a Kryptonian one. She brought the building down on top of you. That stupid fucking bi–"

"Sarah," he said gently, putting a hand on hers. "It's okay. I'm okay."

"It is not okay, Rex!" she retorted. "You almost died! What would I have- Kyra, and your mom, Uncle John... What would we all have done if–" She cut herself off, realising she was close to tears. "Sorry," she said, more softly. "I'm just getting sick to my back teeth of putting up with her behavior, and no one says anything about it!" Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down.

She stood and walked over to one of the cabinets that, come to think of it, Rex had never seen opened. Producing a key from her belt she inserted it in the lock, then pulled out two Portable Playstations. She came back over to him with a smile to his questioning look. "Always be prepared."

He raised an eyebrow. "And I thought Superman was the Boy Scout."

She gave one of the game consoles to him. "Bit retro, but I thought you might be bored stuck here."

He took it. "Thanks."

She smiled. "Just don't use it when Uncle J'onn's around. Interfering with the equipment and all that jazz." She sat back down.

"You're staying?" Rex asked, surprised.

"Unless you don't want me to," she began, a cold stab of uncertainly lancing in her chest.

As she started to get up, though, a warm hand closed gently around her wrist. "No, no," he said quickly. Was that...fear in his voice? "Stay," he said, voice softer.

Well, against those eyes...she really had no chance. They stared at each other for what could have been an inappropriately long time before she cleared her throat and turned her PSP on. "Besides, you can't play by yourself, can you?"

"I guess not," he agreed, doing the same.

She smirked as the two machines connected. "Anyway, you're the only person whose ass I haven't kicked at Battleships."

He chuckled again. "Battleships?"

She narrowed her eyes, saying, "Some of us have strawberry milkshakes, others have Battleships."

"Very true."

She flashed a grin. "Then prepare yourself, Rex Stewart." Before starting the game, she lowered her hood and reached for her mask.

"You're taking your mask off?" he asked, surprise in his voice.

"Yeah." She pulled it off, now looking at him without the barrier of her lenses. The green of his eyes was so intense she regretted the need for a mask and a secret identity. They were still wide and shocked. "The door's locked, Uncle J'onn can phase through, Uncle Clark, Jonathan and Supertramp already know my identity."

He nodded finally, and then turned his attention to the game at hand, declaring war. They played for a while before he spoke again. "Sarah?"

"Mmm?" she enquired, not looking up as she sank his aircraft carrier.

"For what it's worth, I'm with you."

That caught her attention. She looked up, a question in her blue eyes. "Most of the League is," he continued.

Understanding dawned, and she felt a surge of hope.

"Even when following orders she's at best annoying, at worst a vicious bitch," he spat, voice heavy with contempt. "If you do decide you want her kicked out..." He smiled. "I've got your back."

If no one else supported her, the fact that Rex did... Hera, she could take on the world. At the back of her mind, a little voice that sounded a lot like her father popped up. By all the gods, Sarah, you really are in deep.

"Thank you," she managed.

"So are you going to try?" he asked.

She sighed. "I don't know. Things can't carry on this way, but apart from my word, there's no evidence she does more harm than good."

"I don't count as adequate proof?" he demanded.

She shrugged a little helplessly. "No, frankly. Everyone makes mistakes." The corner of her mouth curled up. "I just need her to make them in front of a CCTV camera."

"You could always provoke her," he suggested. Immediately though, he hated the idea. In the field it was fine; Reaper was so good it was easy to forget she was only human, but in a physical fight with Michaela...she'd stand no chance. He couldn't let her put herself in such danger.

Thankfully, Sarah was shaking her head. "No."

"Too sneaky?" he smiled.

She smirked. "I'm Reaper. Why should sneaky bother me?"

"Good point," he admitted. "So what's stopping you?"

She shrugged. "My dad would say it wasn't fair. He'd be right. I have to give her the chance to screw up on her own," she said simply. "Again."

A/N: Review please!