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#Post#: 444--------------------------------------------------
Re: flashback
DIR By: the streak
Date: February 15, 2015, 9:12 pm
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Lollipop lollipop ooh lolli-lolli-lolli-lollipop!" Flash popped
his lips, and Superman cringed. One hundred and thirty
renditions of the Lollipop song could drive anyone to murder,
especially when it was so fast that all the words melded into an
annoying little song that only he could hear. Everyone else
could just hear a slurred melody, and Flash had figured out fast
that Superman could hear him. And he took advantage of it
whenever they had monitoring duty together. He was hoping that
Superman would tell him to go if he was annoying enough. It had
worked five times, after an hour of Lollipop, sung off-key, of
course, and an incessant tapping of his finger on the arm of his
chair. He had also pretended to sleep for a while, snoring
obnoxiously loud.
"Flash." Superman interrupted tightly. Flash grinned at him
expectantly.
"Yea, Supes?"
"I think you should concentrate on the monitors." Flash groaned
loudly.
"Dude, it's so boring it's not even funny."
"Am I laughing?" Superman asked rhetorically, his voice cross.
Flash grinned.
"I think I did hear a snicker."
"No, you didn't."
"Yea, I did."
"Then you're hearing things, because I didn't laugh."
"If I'm hearing things, I shouldn't be on monitor duty."
"Stop talking, and watch the monitors."
"Fine, I'll stop talking…" He muttered, eyes downcast. Clark
almost felt bad for him, when, suddenly, "Lollipop, lollipop,
ooh lolli-lolli-lolli-lollipop!"
"NO SINGING EITHER!" Superman bellowed. Flash sunk down in his
chair, as if he were hurt immensely by this statement.
"Jeez, Supes, you could'a just said so. Didn't have to be so
mean about it."
"I'm not kidding, Flash.""I know, Dude. Neither am I. Can I go
to the Bathroom? I think I might…you know…cry."
"Flash, I'm warning you."
"I'm serious!" Flash protested. Superman sighed.
"Fine, go ahead." Ten minutes later, Flash was still gone.
Superman grumbled under his breath, and sent Bruce to get the
wayward young superhero. Batman arrived promptly, dragging along
an annoyed-looking Flash.
"I'm not that fast!" He grumbled, sitting in his chair. Superman
raised an eyebrow.
"You were gone twenty minutes, Flash."
"Nu-uh. Fifteen at the most." Batman grimaced sympathetically at
Superman before he left. Superman doubted the Dark Knight even
knew how annoying Flash could be. After all, the Speedster was
terrified of him- respected him enough to keep quiet during the
monitor duties he had during Batman's shift. But during his? Oh,
no. It was singing, and talking, and sleeping, and rambling on,
and on, and on…
"Don't be sleepin' on your shift, Supes." Came the cross voice
of the Flash. Clark lifted his lowering eyelids to glare at the
speedster. "Not a very good example."
"Flash, so help me-"
"What? I'm trying to be good." He smiled like an innocent little
angel. Clark narrowed his eyes. "What? You don't want me to?"
His voice quivered just enough to make Clark doubt himself. For
one second.
"Flash, you better be paying attention to those monitors-
imagine if there was some emergency, and because I was dealing
with you and your shenanigans, I missed it?"
"Yea…" Flash murmured sadly. "I should leave so I don't distract
you." He stood, but Superman was in front of him in a second.
Flash grinned. "You wanna race?"
"No, I don't want to race, Flash, I want to finish this shift so
I can go home and sleep."
"Me, too!" Flash answered energetically, leading the man of
steel to his chair and seating him. "A nice comfy bed, soft,
fluffy pillow, maybe some sheep to count…." Clark felt his
eyelids lowering- he wasn't doing this on purpose, was he? He
wouldn't do that!
"Clark." Superman opened his eyes to Batman glaring down at him.
"Flash said you'd fallen asleep, and he was-" He struggled with
the next few words. "-afraid you'd be mad at him if he woke you
up." Clark sat up quickly, and sent a glare at Flash, who was
meekly and timidly eyeing the monitors.
"Batman, I swear I'm gonna murder him." Superman seethed.
"Calm down, Clark. At least he'll watch the monitors until I
leave."
"Can you hang around here for a while?" Superman asked
pleadingly. Batman shook his head.
"Sorry." He started to walk away, and Superman rushed to his
side, and whispered,
"How do you deal with him?" Batman smirked.
"I let him go home."
"What?" Superman asked, flabbergasted, eyes wide. "You gave up?"
"I prefer being alone, and with him there, I never get work
done. It's a win-win for both of us." Batman answered with a
noncommittal shrug. He left, and when Superman turned around,
Flash had drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. He squared
his shoulders, and approached. As he shook Flash's shoulders to
wake him, the younger hero mumbled,
"No, Mama Supes!" Then he opened his eyes and grinned. "So- can
I go now?"
"What?" Superman asked, surprised at the blunt forming of the
question.
"Home. My abode. You know- where I live? Can I go there now? If
Bats can't fix me, no one can," He proclaimed proudly. Superman
narrowed his eyes, deciding there at that moment that he would
break Flash of his irresponsibility. He would do what Batman had
failed at: make Flash pay attention during Monitor Duty.
STEP 1: MAKE HIM REALIZE NOT PAYING ATTENTION IS BAD
"Flash, do you really think that just ignoring the monitors will
make any emergencies go away?" Clark asked wearily, eying the
younger hero under scrutinizing eyes.
"Yep."
"Really?"
"Duh."
"You're joking right now, aren't you."
"Of course not. When have I been known to joke?"
"This is a serious association, Flash."
"I thought it was a League."
"I'm being serious, Flash."
"Me, too. I always thought the L in JL was for League. I didn't
even know association started with an L. My teacher always did
say I wasn't the brightest light bulb…in fact, she said I was
cracked…" He smiled at Superman, but Clark merely frowned. It
seemed Step 1 was a failure.
STEP 2: FIGURE OUT WHY HE CHOOSES TO NOT PAY ATTENTION
"Why don't you try to pay attention?" Superman asked, as Flash
spun wildly on the chair.
"I did try," Flash responded, slowing as he realized Clark
wanted to talk some more. "And I figured out it was
super-boring."
"But it's very important."
"I get that, but you're here with your eagle eyes- why can't I
get a few winks in?"
"Why are you so tired?"
"I do have a life outside the Justice Association, you know."
"If it's interfering with your job here, then perhaps you should
limit the amount of parties you go to," Clark told him
reasonably. Flash snickered.
"I meant I had a day job, but I'm glad that's the look I show.
Party guy…pretty sweet." Superman sighed.
"So- a day job," He forced out, determined that Step 2 wouldn't
be a failure, too. "And how is your involvement in that?"
"Personally, I believe-" He spun quickly, then looked at
Superman with mock seriousness. "-I'm the best one there."
"What do you do?"
"Like I would tell you that."
"I could see under your mask if I wanted to!" Superman reminded
him.
"So? Besides, I bet x-ray vision is bogus anyway…I bet you and
some guy- probably Bats- figure out what color underwear people
are wearing so you can freak them out." He grinned wildly, and,
although Clark knew he was joking, he wanted to prove him wrong.
"Brown hair. Brown eye. Right ones hazel." Flash smirked.
"See, I bet you did that when I was unconscious sometime." Clark
sighed, knowing he wouldn't win. And he was far from what he
wanted to figure out anyway. Step 2 was not just a failure- it
was a disaster.
STEP 3: TRY TO CONVINCE HIM TO PAY MORE ATTENTION
"Listen Flash- you said you tried to pay attention before- why
not again?"
"You know the saying, Supes….if you've failed once, don't try,
try, again." Superman sighed.
"But you work so hard ignoring the monitors…if you put that kind
of effort into watching them…"
"Then the world would be safe from all dangers!" Flash said
gallantly, leaping to his feet in mock excitement. "Quick, men!
To your stations!" He pressed his nose up against the glass of
one of the monitors. If he blinked in the next five minutes, he
did it too fast for Clark to see.
"Flash…" Clark began.
"Nay!" Flash shouted quickly. "I must watch for sudden danger!
Horrible danger! Danger beyond horrible! Danger beyond the
danger that men like us know! Because if I find it, I can run
headfirst into it! Avast!"
"Avast?"
"AVAST!"
Well. It was a success. Sort of.
"Can you even see anything?" Superman asked. Flash had been
nose-pressed to the monitor screen for about fifteen minutes.
"I cannot." Flash answered.
"Get down from there." Flash did as he was told.
"Supes…I'm gonna take a nap, 'kay?"
"No, it's not okay! You need to watch these monitors!"
"The Justice Association can handle this while I sleep for five
minutes. Seriously. If the world explodes, wake me up." He was
asleep before Clark could retaliate.
"Superman?" Clark turned. J'onn was in the doorway.
"Oh. Hi, J'onn."
"Are you having difficulties?"
"Flash is being annoying. What's new?"
"I am sure he is not being so intentionally."
"That's the point: he is! He wants to get out of monitor duty."
"Why did you not send him home?" J'onn asked curiously. Superman
frowned.
"Is that what you do?" J'onn nodded.
"It is what everyone on the team, apart from you, does. They
feel it is easier then having to watch the monitors, and him."
"And you?"
"I do so because I feel that time will pass easier for both of
us. He is uncomfortable in my presence alone."
"Why?"
"Because he believes- this was very firm in his mind, and I had
no choice in the matter to read it- that should he annoy me, I
would find an embarrassing moment of his life, and replay it in
front of all members of the team." Superman raised an eyebrow.
"Really? Then why not just do that? You know…threaten him with
embarrassment or whatever?"
"That is not very 'boy scout'ish of you, Kal-El."
"I have lost all traces of patience of 'boy scout'ishness during
the past 2 and a half hours." J'onn smirked.
"If you feel this way, allow him to leave."
"I don't want to give up." Superman answered sharply. "I can do
this. He can do this."
"I wish you both the best of luck." J'onn answered, before
leaving.
"G'night." Superman muttered under his breath. He returned to
his seat, then looked up with glazed eyes at the monitors. You
can do it! He yawned, stretched, and fell asleep to the calm
videos of Earth.
Alarms blared as Clark opened his eyes, he spun around,
searching for what the problem was. A robbery! In metropolis, no
less! Of the biggest bank. If it got hit…he searched for Flash,
and cursed when he was no where to be found. The robbers were
already leaving…it was too late. Wonder Woman was in Alaska,
Green Lantern in his home city, and Batman in Gotham. No one
could be dispatched in time. He glared at the screen, and
crushed the arm of his chair out of anger.
He shouldn't have fallen asleep! How could he have been so
stupid?!
"Hey, sleeping beauty. Sorry about the alarms. I was making a
burrito, and the microwave broke- not my fault, though-" Flash
was against the wall in seconds, Superman towering over him with
anger written in his clear hazel eyes.
"While you were making and burning a burrito-" He began, eyes
narrow and cold, "A bank was being robbed in Metropolis."
"No kiddin'. They got away?"
"Of course they got away! It's three'o'clock! Who would just be
casually patrolling Metropolis at this hour besides me?! And you
didn't call anyone because you were trying to work a machine a
three-year-old could work!"
"It's complicated-" Flash began huffily, but Superman cut him
off.
"YOU PRESS HOW LONG YOU WANT IT TO RUN! IT'S NOT COMPLICATED!"
Superman took a slight calming breath, and the tight grip on
Flash's lean shoulders lessened. "Besides, the point is that,
because you weren't doing your job, those robbers got away with
half the cash in that building!"
"I'm not the one not doin' my job," Flash replied, and the grip
on his shoulders tightened immediately. He was blaming him?
Sure, he'd drifted off, but Flash hadn't woken him up, and
hadn't done his job! "Not talkin' about you, big guy," Flash
told him firmly. "I was talkin' about Wondy."
"Diana?" Clark echoed. "What does she have to do with this? At
all? How was she supposed to know about a robbery in Metropolis
if she's in Alaska!?"
"Well, I think that's the point of a Com. Link. You talk into
it, and the person goes flying super-fast across the Earth to
stop that little robbery thing you're going on about." Clark
paused, then looked over his shoulder. He blanched. Diana had
roped up the fifteen robbers, and was speaking to a police
officer. He turned back to Flash.
"Bu-" He stumbled over his words, and his shoulders slumped.
Flash fell the two feet down from where he had been pinned with
ease.
"It's okay," He said comfortingly. "Lots of people are amazed by
how awesome I am."
"Bu-"
"Now if you don't mind…I have a burrito to dump. Plus my shift
is over in about….ten seconds." In less then a second, his mouth
was full, and he was holding a charred burrito. "10, 9, 8, 7, 6,
5, 4, 3, 2,1- Whoo-hoo! Freedom! See ya, Supes!" He left the man
of steel, dumbfounded, in his dust.
"Um…" Clark shrugged. "Mission completed?"
#Post#: 445--------------------------------------------------
Re: flashback
DIR By: the streak
Date: February 15, 2015, 9:26 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Monitor duty, two simple words that could potentially alter the
mood of any member of the legendary Justice League. There really
wasn't much anyone could say to convince you that you may
actually have a good time, although it was widely acknowledged
that monitor duty was an infinitely better detail than crowd
control, anything was better than crowd control. Monitor duty,
two simple words that could potentially change your life. A
slight buzzing went off in the Flash's ear alerting him to an
impending call, he pressed his com link.
There was a brief scuffling sound followed by the stoic voice of
J'onn J'onzz. "Flash"
"Waddup J'onn?"
"Please report to the bridge."
"No can do J'onn, I'm part of the task force going down to help
with that eruption in the Philippines…"
"Sorry Flash, you've been reassigned. Bridge, now." The line cut
off.
As soon as the words rolled off the Martian Man Hunter's tongue
Wally West veered off in the direction of the bridge, choosing
not to use his powers in an attempt to delay the inevitable.
Once having eventually made it up to the 'nucleus' of the
Watchtower, Wally stood in front of the imposing steel doors,
doors that had always reminded him of the swooshy ones as seen
on Star Trek.
Flash, please, I can sense your presence.
Wally shook his head, you could never get away with anything
when telepaths were involved, sighing he stepped onto the
pressure pad that granted him access to the monitor room.
"You rang?" in a feasible imitation of Lurch; Flash announced
his presence. J'onn turned briefly towards him, his eyes
questioning. "Trust me that joke would be hilarious in some
cultures."
"I understand you are making a reference to the cult television
series 'The Adam's Family'." The Martian paused, a slight smile
played on his mouth, "It just wasn't funny. Jokes aside, we have
a slight problem."
"Problem? Doesn't happen to involve terrorist plots to
assassinate the President and hot Russian babes in bikinis on
snowmobiles does it?"
"Even for you that's a little far fetched," a new voice piped
in.
"Huh?"
"Ah, Flash meet Huntress, she's your detail."
"Uh, run that by me again?"
"Huntress has over stepped her boundaries somewhat as a member
of the Justice League, causing the League to take disciplinary
action."
"Yeah, so?"
"Oh stop tip toeing around it, I've been a bad girl and I need
to be punished," Huntress deadpanned.
"Normally I'd be happy to help, but somehow I don't like where
this is going."
"As a founding member it was deemed appropriate for you to keep
an eye on her," J'onn explained.
"Why wasn't I consulted?" came Flash's indignant reply.
"You're being consulted now," the source of the comment became
apparent as the Dark Knight himself stepped out from the shadows
swathed in his cloak, striking an imposing figure that all the
criminals of Gotham had come to fear. Flash swallowed closed his
eyes and opened his mouth to say something, he had stood up to
Brianiac and damn well beat him for crying out loud.
"You mean you're sticking me on a glorified babysitting job?" he
eventually forced out.
"I can put on a Russian accent if you want, I'm not promising a
bikini though." Huntress interjected, a wicked smile on her
lips.
Bats just glared.
"Right, well, I guess I've got no problem with that." Wally
stuttered, scuffing his boot on the floor.
"Good, I'll leave J'onn to finalise the details with you." The
Batman left without a backward glance.
"So, Flash, you and Huntress will be on monitor duty together
for the most part. We need someone on duty for the graveyard
shift in the embassy down on Earth. Also its felt that it would
be useful if the two of you were to train together."
"To what, encourage bonding?" came Huntress' scathing retort.
"In short, yes."
"Goody," Hsuntres turned sharply towards Flash upon hearing his
comment. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically "Whaa?"
"You are due down at 2300 hours," J'onn interjected before
Huntress' newly clenched fist connected with the Scarlet
Speedster's face.
"That gives us 45 minutes to become bosom buddies!" Huntress
said with false enthusiasm relaxing slightly under J'onn's
relatively soothing voice.
The two superheroes stood face to face, both sizing the other up
and taking everything in. Flash's eyes started at Huntress'
feet, one tapping impatiently against the cool steel floor. His
gaze then travelled up her legs and what legs they were, clad in
thigh high black armour plated boots. His eyes travelled further
upward noting her black shorts; further exploration revealed her
swimsuit style bodice, which inexplicably had the middle cut out
of it. His gaze then flitted to her arms, both encased in a pair
of fingerless opera gloves. Her ensemble was complete with a
purple trimmed cape and mask covering the upper part of her
face. Flash's eyes eventually rested on Huntress' ample bosom
emphasised by her form fitting uniform.
"Eyes up here Red!" Huntress snapped irritably, clicking her
fingers to draw attention to her face.
"Aww, you see we're already using nicknames." Flash replied with
a goofy smile.
Huntress rolled her eyes, "Uh huh." She shook her head and
mumbled something to herself, her inner struggle of epic
proportions was expressed briefly by the scrunching up of her
face, she suddenly snapped her head up and locked eyes with
Flash."Oh, what the hell, we may as well and be civil otherwise
Batman will whoop my ass and kick me out of Gotham. So start
again, I'm Huntress and the only other thing you really need to
know is that I can kick your butt"
"Flash, Fastest Man Alive," he grinned at her, "So, waddya like
to eat?"
"Huh of all the questions you could ask, you quiz me on my food
preferences?" Huntress asked, one delicate eyebrow arched in
question.
"Hey! Back off lady, food is important to me, ok?"
"Right, well I'm not really hungry but I could do with some
coffee, lots and lots of coffee."
"Ah, you're in luck, I make a killer ice mocha." "
, the machines do perfectly good coffee, besides isn't the
kitchen kinda the catering staffs domain?"
"Not if your with a founding member, all access pass!" he
flashed her a thousand watt grin. "C'mon, we aint got all day."
"Ok, to the kitchens?"
"The kitchens"
Five minutes later the two superheroes were sat at a table for
two, both clutching ice mochas, Huntress took a noisy slurp and
smiled contentedly.
"Pretty good right?" Flash questioned hopefully.
"Not bad, you may have some redeeming qualities yet."
"Not bad? Your face says other wise." Huntress raised an
eyebrow; the Flash smirked.
"Sex face," he said savouring the words.
"Really now? I wouldn't think you'd have much experience in the
department of… pleasuring women." Huntress smiled, her full lips
parting slightly to give a flash of her teeth.
"Excuse me? I know plenty about that department"
"Sure you do, but you still maintain that you're the fastest man
alive, right?" Huntress eyes widened innocently and with her
mouth slightly open she cocked her head to one side.
To Flash's annoyance he couldn't help but notice how attractive
she was. But perhaps what was worse was that she knew that she
had that effect over him. The Scarlet Speedster gave himself a
mental check, there was no way she'd be interested. Anyway,
wasn't she sort of none dating the Question? Best to get over
it, besides they were trying the 'civil' thing, no point jumping
the gun and trying to get a date out of the girl, not that she
looked like the type of girl that would go on a date. Judging by
the amounts of leather that featured in her costume he was
thinking clothes staying on wouldn't be much of a priority when
she spent time with the opposite sex. A sudden vivid image
pushed its way to the forefront of Flash's mind, Huntress
pulling off his lab coat in the storage room at work… Wally
realised that he had been silent far to long and had thus far
not come up with a decent comeback.
"I'll have you know…" he began.
Huntress cut him off, "later Flash, we've gotta work, c'mon we
better head to the teleport pads" Huntress rose from her seat
and began to walk towards the exit of the canteen; she stopped
at the threshold, and throw her cup into the bin.
"You coming?"
No sooner had she finished her sentence and the Scarlett
Speedster was by her side and the two newly attached superheroes
made there way to the teleports.
Within just minutes the leaguers found themselves back on Earth,
he knew he could travel fast, faster than Superman but he still
marvelled at the instantaneous travel that enabled him to, in a
matter of seconds, re-materialise somewhere else. He stepped off
the teleport pad and glanced over at Huntress, she had just
managed to place one shaky foot in front of the other; she
wobbled slightly but regained her balance and sauntered over to
the main control panel as if her momentary loss of equilibrium
had never happened. The Flash smirked at her loss of control,
his eyes dipping briefly to admire the motion of her hips as she
moved gracefully across the floor.
"You gonna keep staring at my butt all day or you gonna come
help me?" Huntress shot over her shoulder
"How didja…I mean, I'm not staring!"
"Sure you weren't" Huntress eyes rolled under her mask, she
placed her hands either side of the highly sophisticated
computers keyboard.
Flash gave Huntress a sidelong glance, "Hey Huntress?"
"Flash?" she replied breathing heavily through her nose.
"How do you and the Question kiss?"
Huntress' eyes narrowed, her arm shot out and connected with a
loud thump.
#Post#: 446--------------------------------------------------
Re: flashback
DIR By: the streak
Date: February 15, 2015, 9:34 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
The Flash sighed gustily into the empty chambers of the silent,
newly-replaced Watchtower. Quite possibly the most horrific
punishment—well, one of the most horrific, and he'd been through
a lot—was to expect the Fastest Man Alive, with his super-speed
and endless energy, to sit in one place for hours and stare at a
bunch of empty screens. How—and, for that matter, why—Batman
could volunteer for and even want this sort of torture was
beyond Wally's comprehension. He would've gladly given it over
when Batman suggested it, if not for Superman stepping in and
insisting that everyone had to take their turn on the
screens—and Flash had been ducking out of it for months, mostly
dumping it on Batman. Flash doubted Superman had seen
it—although you could never be too confident about that sort of
thing with Supes—but the look on Batman's face at the very nerve
of Superman to suggest that Flash had somehow duped him into
taking monitor duty was almost worth the agony itself.
But not quite.
Thankfully, he wasn't the Fastest Man Alive for nothing, despite
what anyone else said. And as such, he had ways to keep himself
entertained.
His record time to run the whole Watchtower was just short of a
second, and he was intending to cut that down to half a second
if he could help it. But first—
It only took a few seconds to whip up a couple iced mochas to
charge up before the runs. Flash returned to the control
seat—noting with his usual dismay that the friction had
partially melted the ice—and flopped with deliberate languidness
into the cushy command chair with a sigh to enjoy the chocolaty
goodness.
Being the Fastest Man Alive was not without its perks, but
neither was it free of downsides, and his ridiculously high
metabolism was one of them. Another, Flash mused absently, was
his inability to think through and process complex ideas or
concepts when on the job. When you're the Fastest Man Alive, you
don't have time to consider all the ramifications of moral
conundrums or the intricate politics both within and involving
the League; you're too concerned about avoiding obstacles like
buildings, pedestrians, and the occasional invading meta-alien.
Flash had become accustomed to simply ignoring these complex
problems, pushing them below the surface into his unconscious
for days or weeks at a time until he had the breathing room to
properly think them through. More than once, he had shoved a
puzzling case under in just such a manner only to have it
resurface already solved by his subconscious mind.
These past few weeks, he hadn't been so lucky. The aftermath of
the Thanagarian invasion was barely beginning to heal, and
everyone in the League was exhausted with trying to balance
shifts for helping the affected areas, diplomacy with
governments around the world, maintaining faith in the League
after one of their own betrayed them, and occasionally taking a
moment to eat or sleep for periods measured only in minutes. Any
difficult or baffling issues had been necessarily demoted in
favor of simply avoiding stepping on anyone's toes—both
literally and figuratively—and staying awake enough to still be
helpful.
This one issue, though, kept popping to the surface at the most
inconvenient moments and then mockingly eluding his grasp, like
an errant apple that kept bobbing up but that he couldn't quite
manage to sink his teeth into. In that moment of cornered fear,
when the six of them were being hunted by legions of winged
aliens, betrayed and alone, forced to unmask, the revelation of
Wally's secret identity and those of his colleagues had been
laughably unimportant, and at the time he had simply, by force
of habit and necessity, forced it to the back of his mind. Now
it was bothering him. Again.
In fact, it was driving him crazy.
Forgetting for a moment his intention to set a new Watchtower
speed record, Flash set aside his mocha—knowing that either
J'Onn, or Batman, or both, would be out for his head for putting
the dripping drink on their precious machinery—and scootched up
to the keyboard. He sent a superstitious glance over his
shoulder before he caught himself doing it, and surreptitiously
called up the Watchtower's vast archive files.
SEARCH QUERY: Wayne, Bruce.
As a matter of necessity, the Watchtower had archives containing
just about every news story ever written, published, aired,
broadcast, or scribbled on a napkin. In this case, though, Flash
hardly had to dig deep; Bruce Wayne was quite a public figure.
As he expected, a mammoth list of all the articles, blurbs, and
stories even mentioning the heir to the Wayne fortune and prince
of Gotham City scrolled up on the main screen before him. Flash
selected the first one.
A second screen opened, a recent news story no more than a month
or so old—just a little before the onset of the invasion. The
video showed an elaborately decorated stage, graced by the Mayor
of Gotham City, various important people, dignitaries and
bigwigs, and one Mr. Bruce Wayne, his arm around the waist of an
anonymous woman who must have been a supermodel. The reporter's
voice droned in the background—something about another enormous
charitable contribution, opening of a new museum or playground
or some other thing—until Flash muted it. "Freeze frame," he
announced to the air, and the computer complied. With a few
clicks, Flash zoomed in on Bruce Wayne and studied him
carefully.
He was a handsome man, perhaps a little too muscled for a
philanderer and playboy, but the bulk was well-hidden beneath
his finely tailored and ridiculously expensive suit. His thick
black hair was perfectly styled, his teeth perfectly white and
set into the perfect mixture of amused benevolence and bored
arrogance. Everything about him—gorgeous hand-crafted watch,
imported tie, supermodel companion—just screamed decadence,
endless money with no outlet but the owner's wandering pleasure.
Flash leaned in, frowning. Even his eyes—bright, piercing
blue—showed no particular signs of intelligence or wisdom beyond
conniving, selfish business sense and politics. The act was,
like Bruce Wayne himself, absolutely perfect.
Bruce Wayne's face was known to everyone; Flash had seen him
before on the news and given it little thought. Now, it had a
whole different meaning. Flash tried for a moment to image this
same man wearing a Kevlar body suit chock-full of sophisticated
weaponry, tried to imagine the black cowl hooding those vacant
blue eyes. It was too great a leap. Even having gone to Wayne
Manor and seen the Batcave underneath, his mind simply couldn't
reconcile the smirking, smarmy playboy on the screen with the
terrifyingly intelligent dark phantom with inhuman white eyes
who could cow the world's greatest leaders and most merciless
criminals with his mere presence.
"Not possible," Flash muttered, slumping back in his chair.
"That's the idea."
Flash jumped at the sound of the harsh voice directly behind him
and whirled. Batman stood just behind him, unperturbed as usual
by Flash's reaction. The white slits in his cowl gave no
indication of the direction of his gaze, but Flash knew he was
observing the image—his own image, Flash made himself think with
difficulty—on the screen sheerly because Flash wasn't sweating
under the weight of that stare. He took the opportunity to study
Batman again—a towering figure radiating terror and merciless
justice, wreathed in a black cape that pooled around him like
liquid shadow. Flash's eyes flickered to the emptily grinning
face on the monitor again.
Nope, no way.
Batman was showing no sign of breaking the silence, so Flash
decided it was up to him. He cleared his throat peremptorily.
"So…how long had you known about my…about me?"
"Ever since it became important to know," Batman replied
cryptically. "I don't like loose ends."
"How'd you find out?"
"Nervous?" Batman shot back, his voice tinged with irony
although no emotion showed on his face.
"Nah." Flash slouched back in his seat. "Just wondering, that's
all. You know, to better protect my identity."
"It's not about making sure there's no way for your enemies to
find out," Batman said after a long pause. "It's about
anticipating how your enemy will think, and making it impossible
for them to logically make the connection."
Flash blinked. A few times, rapidly. That was quite a speech
from the taciturn Bat.
Batman sighed, very softly. "Anyone open to the possibilities
could make the connection." His voice dipped down to a murmur,
as if he were pondering to himself. "Nothing is easier than
self-deceit. For what each man wishes, that he also believes to
be true."
Flash hazarded a guess. "Ghandi?"
Now Batman looked at him, white eyes piercing despite their
unsettling blankness. "Demonsthenes."
"Ah," Flash articulated indistinctly. He hesitated for a
second—but not long; the Fastest Man Alive never had time to
hesitate—but still unable to really believe Batman was Bruce
Wayne until he saw it in daylight with his own eyes, ventured,
"Do you think you could, maybe, you know…take off-"
"No," Batman said, with the undertones of warning that he used
during interrogation right before he informed the unlucky
criminal in question which finger he was going to break first.
Flash said, "Okay," and dropped it.
Batman reached over suddenly and plucked the iced mocha from
where it was dripping condensed water onto the console. Flash
shrugged somewhat apologetically at Batman's accusing look and
sipped out of the other mocha contentedly, leaning back in his
chair to prop his gold-booted feet on a button-free part of the
control panel. The frozen image of Wayne's smug face was still
smiling down at him from the screen, and Flash couldn't help but
grin back. How cool was this, that he knew Bruce Wayne? "Hey
Bats, I've been needing a new microwave…think you can hook me
up?"
"Don't even think about it," Batman's voice said out of the
commlink right under Flash's feet. Flash leapt up, but the Dark
Knight was gone and he was alone at the monitor.
"Man…I hate it when he does that," Flash muttered, finished his
mocha with a slurp, and got ready to run.
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