Janet Carlson cursed as she hurried west down Thirty-first Street, heading for Penn Station just a few blocks away. It was cold, a bitter wind whipping between the tall buildings; tiny flakes of snow spiraling about her as she hurried along. She turned up her collar against the chill, wishing she had left work earlier, hours before. As it was she would not get home until well after midnight.

Her heels clacked as she quickened her pace. Wispy trails of vapor followed in her wake as she began to breathe harder and harder with every step. She wanted a cigarette, but in the chill icy air she knew that she would be hacking and coughing after just a few short puffs. Besides, she barely had a block and a half left to go before she reached Madison Square Garden and the subway station below. She could make it.

She hated leaving work so late, but there were nights when it was necessary. There were invoices from overseas to translate and log, and it seemed that there were always files and data coming in late at the end of the month. If it weren't for the money, Janet would have told her boss long ago to find someone else to do the last minute number crunching, but that extra overtime went a long way towards the rent at the end of every month. Still, she hated the long walk from the offices on Madison Avenue to Seventh so late at night.

The further west she went, the worse the streets became. Garbage was always piled high along the sidewalk, waiting for overnight pickup, and still the gutters were overflowing with debris. The shops along the side streets were always locked up tight so late at night, the windows sealed behind thick metal roll-down grates. No light filtered down from the offices higher above, and even the streetlights were out along most of the trek. It was deserted and dark, and worse, it smelled.

"Pssst!"

Janet looked up and about, startled at the sudden noise. She saw no one ahead and hunched her shoulders, quickening her pace even more, tottering on her heels. She could see the lights of the Garden just a block away now, glowing like an oasis in the distance. She licked her lips, listening as her heels clacked along the sidewalk, her footsteps a staccato tapping in the otherwise silent night.

"Hey, lady! Got a cigarette?"

Janet gasped to see a silhouette step out of the shadows under the construction scaffolding that she had just walked beneath. He was a big man, black and raggedy-looking in a tattered Army jacket and baggy greasy jeans. His eyes were bright in the dark, shadowy overhang, and as he stepped forward with a smile, she saw that he was missing most of his teeth. Just a homeless man she thought, a bum wanting a cigarette or spare change.

Still, Janet was in a rush. She did not have the time for the usual song and dance of the begging homeless. She shook her head, stepping into a wide arch to avoid the man-

"Sorry!" she squeaked. She could smell him already. "I don't smoke."

"Change?" he asked, holding out a hand shaking in the cold wind. "You got a quarter?"

"No! I'm sorry."

Janet gasped, yelping in surprise as something snagged her coat. She staggered; almost falling as she was brought up short and gasped again as an arm snaked about her throat. She felt something cold and sharp press into her throat as a warm, sour smelling body hugged her close, tightly. Foul, fetid breath washed over her as a gravelly voice rasped in her ear-

"Lyin' bitch! You got money! Y'all got money! Give it over!"

Tears welled in her eyes as she felt the point of the cold, hard knife press into her throat. She felt a pinprick of pain as the man behind her hugged her even closer. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she felt a tugging on her bag-

"Please…"

"Yeah! You beggin' now, bitch! Ain't so high horse now, hunh?"

The man squeezed her arm and throat as the first man staggered forward. He was shambling she could see, his feet dragging through the garbage. He reached out and grabbed her breast, giggling as he squeezed. Janet sobbed-

"Please-" They started to pull her back, back into the shadows…

"Hey, boys! Is this the rave?"

Janet gasped, tears clogging her throat as she stared at the short blonde woman standing at the edge of the scaffolding. She was wearing a thick black woolen coat against the cold, her long blonde hair blowing wildly in the wind. She was smiling.

"What?" Janet heard the man that had the knife at her throat ask in confusion. Janet had to admit that she had no idea what the woman was talking about either.

"The rave, handsome. I heard there was a party goin' on down here."

Janet watched as the woman strolled forward, apparently unafraid and unaffected by the sight of the two men about to rob her. She wanted to scream at the woman to run, to get help, but the knife at her throat kept her silent. She pleaded with wide eyes, warm tears running down her flush cheeks. The blonde woman laughed, stepping right up to the big black homeless man. He towered over her, and the woman craned her neck to look up at him, flipping her hair back as she jutted a hip, showing her legs.

"What'cha got here, big guy?" the blonde glanced at Janet with a smirk, her eyes darting to the man that had the knife to her throat for just a moment. She seemed unafraid. Was she on drugs? Janet felt the man's arm tighten about her throat and she whimpered. Steel flashed and she saw the knife sparkling before her eyes as the man holding her waved it at the blonde-

"You crazy, Blondie? Gimme yer cash or you get cut too! Cut'chu bad, bitch!" The man's voice rasped in Janet's ear again. She smelled alcohol in the vapors of his breath. He was waving the knife- a rusty paring knife- wildly at the blonde, and she just laughed-

"Do tell…"

Janet Carlson saw the woman's arm shoot out and suddenly grab her attacker's wrist. They struggled for an instant, the woman's big blue eyes now steely and cold. Her smile never faltered as she stared, and Janet saw her leather gloved thumb dig into the man's wrist, twisting slightly. Janet heard her attacker whimper, saw the knife drop from his fingers.

"Hey-" the big man said, staggering forward a step. Faster than her eyes could follow, Janet saw the woman lean forward, shifting her weight. Her hind leg shot up like lightning and her heel slammed into the homeless man's throat, almost six feet high! The woman pulled the knife-less man's arm down in the same motion, twisting it with a casual turn of her hand as the other started to hack and gurgle, gasping for breath. The knife-less attacker screamed!

Janet felt the arm loosen from about her throat and immediately she stumbled forward, out of reach. She spun about, pressing her back against the dirty brick wall as she watched, terror making her gasp out loud for every breath. Her heart was slamming in her chest like a hammer. Her eyes were wide, stinging in the cold wind.

The big homeless man had just fallen to his knees, his hands clutching his throat. Janet saw blood mixed in the spittle drooling from between his dry, chapped lips. The woman had the other on his knees as well; holding his arm fully extended and twisted backwards. He seemed smaller than his friend, but just as dirty and dark, his skin smeared in grease and grime. He cried out as the woman pressed on the back of his hand, bending it at an odd angle.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice soft but intense. She no longer sounded lost.

"Y-yes-" Janet gulped, trying to calm down. She felt something slick trickling down her neck.

"Cell phone?" Janet nodded staring at the blood on her hand.

"Call 9-11! Tell them where you are and what happened. I want you to stay here until they come. I want you to press charges. Do you understand?" Janet nodded again. She wondered if she might be going into shock. The woman's words registered then-

"Stay? But they'll-"

Janet gasped as the woman extended her leg and brought her heel crashing down onto the man's elbow. There was a nauseating crunch as his arm folded backwards. The man screamed then fell forward onto his face as the woman let him go. He lay mostly still, occasionally humping the ground, and his friend was still gasping for breath.

"They'll live," the woman smiled glancing from one to the other, "but they won't be going anywhere for awhile. They won't be any trouble. You can rough 'em up a bit if you want. Blame it on me." The woman slipped a hand into her coat pocket and withdrew a small, white business card. She held it out, and Janet took it finally, her hand shaking so badly that she could not read the fine print. She looked up at the smaller blonde who seemed to tower over her-

"Who-"

"I have to go." The woman turned, stuffing her hands into her pockets to hold her coat against the wind as she stepped out of the shelter of the scaffolding. Janet heard the big mugger gag and started digging through her purse for her cellular.

"It's all there on the card. Show the police, and if you need legal council call the JLA Reparations number." The blonde was shouting as she jogged down the street towards midtown. As if in afterthought, she suddenly spun about and pointed a finger at Janet. "And don't forget- Press charges! I'll testify if you need me!"

And then she was gone.

Janet stared at the little white card in her hand. There was a logo- the silhouette of a bird in flight- and several phone numbers that seemed associated with the Justice League of America embossed on the front. On the back in stylized black letters was a name and title, and Janet breathed a sigh of relief. She flipped open her cell phone and tapped out the emergency numbers, lighting a cigarette as she waited for the call to connect. She smiled, reading the words on the card once again. There was a new sheriff in town…

	The World's Most Beautiful Crimefighter..... Putting Down Roots
Black Canary #1 - February, Year 2	by Curt Fernlund

New York City,
The Empire State Building-
Observation Deck:

Dinah Laurel Lance stared out at the twinkling lights of the city. It looked so different here, high above the grimy and deserted streets. Down below, in the dead of night, caught between the towers it was just another dingy city of cold hard stone. Up here with the clouds and the stars, it was magic.

Dinah loved Manhattan. In all the world that she had seen, there had never been a city to compare. Seattle was nice, and Star City, but there were too many ghosts haunting those streets. Metropolis was far too bright, and in that same respect, Gotham was way too dark. LA was too hot, and Chicago too cold for her liking. Too much snow, and that wind off the lakes was bitter. Too bitter.

Of course, New York had its drawbacks as well. It could get cold as hell in the winter, and the rain would fall in sheets sometimes instead of drops. The humidity in the summer was miserable at times, when the streets seemed to ripple in the heat and the stench of garbage and too many people started to hang in the air. Of course there were far too many people clogging the streets to be healthy for anyone. But at times like this, high over the city on a cloudy cold night spitting snow, with the air smelling crisp and clean and the buildings sparkling in the darkness there was no place she would rather be.

Dinah had laughed when the Batman had suggested that she move her base of operations to Gotham City after the Felix Faust affair.* He had called her a 'good soldier', adding that he needed operatives in his war against the crime in Gotham and he felt- with a little training- that she would be perfect. She had laughed again.

(* See JLA #7-9)

She had laughed not so much at the offer. It was sincere, and it had come from the Batman for god's sake. It was an honor of sorts, she supposed. What she had found so amusing was the way that he had asked. She had been in the game far longer than he, though not really in an official capacity true, but she had technically more experience than he did. He had said she needed training! She had learned from some of the same people that he had!

The Batman could be a total ass at times.

It had taken the whole Siberian debacle to make her realize that she had to get out of Seattle, and it was only after that affair that she had taken the Batman's offer seriously. She had gone to the Russian Federation with the Martian Manhunter and Wonder Woman as a member of the Justice League of America. They had later been joined by the Green Lantern- together investigating a meteorite that had landed in the snowy wastes of Siberia. The meteorite had of course turned out to be a space ship, and they had encountered not only an alien, but the Russian super team- Red Square!*

(* See JLA #10-12)

They had all but beaten the team of Russian heroes when the alien had emerged from his craft. He of course had been far more than an ugly little alien with a glowing heart. He named himself Zauriel, and had proclaimed himself an angel from Heaven come to judge the world. He had placed them all in some sort of mental, emotional rapture- all save the robotic Rocket Red. Zauriel had mentally forced both the League and Red Square into a state of bliss, a paradise where their fondest dreams were realized-

Dinah had been married to Oliver. She had been pregnant and happy and living in Star City. Her best friends had been Hal and Carol Jordan. It had been a life that she had dreamed of all too often. A life that she wished for, if things had been different. If Oliver was not dead…

It had been the Rocket Red that had shattered her daydream of paradise. Apparently she had not quite fully destroyed the new robot with her weakened Canary Cry, and somehow it had set off a sonic beacon of its own that had awakened all of the dreamers from their personal bliss. Dinah had been too entrenched in that false life however. Despite her bravado, she had never really come to terms with Oliver's death. And then to have a child- even a dream child- ripped from her womb…

Ollie's daughter…

It had been too much. Dinah had shut down then and there on the battlefield, feeling the emptiness in her heart, the hollow pit in her stomach. With reflection she had come to realize that it had all been in her head, but that did not make it any easier to bear. She could still feel the touch of Ollie's hand on her shoulder. She could still feel her daughter kicking inside her womb. She had to get away…

There were far too many memories in Seattle, and Star City as well. Memories both good and bad. Every where she turned around she had seen Oliver's smiling face, or that stupid Robin Hood hat that he wore. There were notches in the wall from where he had fired arrows in her apartment and her shop in both cities. Seattle had dedicated a statue to him in the Seattle Center, right in front of the Food Court. Every street held an image of a past fight, or a walk they had taken. He had hand-made the damn shingle that had hung over the door of Sherwood Florist! Worse, he had giggled like an idiot for weeks after, every time he passed under it. Why she kept the thing, she would never know.

Because she loved him still…

Because she missed him…

Dinah had done Gotham, which was why she had turned the Batman's gracious offer down. No doubt the city needed her. Hell, Gotham needed Superman- an army of Supermen! Batman was good. He was probably the best at what he did, but Gotham was out of control. Not that she did not like a challenge, but Dinah knew that whatever she did, all of her efforts would be comparable to a drop in the ocean, wasted there. Despite the fact that Batman and his little army were always prowling the streets, it never got any better. It never improved! The Penguin still stole bird things. The Catwoman still burgled. The Joker still killed…

Which was why she had been both happy and intrigued by a message from an old friend requesting to meet her in Manhattan. She had been hoping for a distraction, something to get her out of Seattle and even away from the League for awhile. She had been hoping that Oracle might call again.

She had not heard from Oracle in weeks. Not since the whole Archer Braun affair. Not so long after that, Dinah had lost contact with the mysterious Oracle, and Dinah had no idea why. She thought maybe it had been her involvement with the Huntress and Catwoman at first, but Oracle had seemed to have taken all of that in stride. Even though Oracle had played 'Big Sister' throughout that entire operation, trying to steer the Black Canary on the straight and narrow and keep her there. They had had a little tiff after that, and that had been the last time that Dinah had heard from her mysterious benefactor. What hurt was that it had been her own idea.

Dinah had gotten over it. The whole argument had been over tactics and politics. Oliver's politics! Old habits were hard to break however, and Dinah knew that she was dragging around some of Oliver Queen's baggage. Still…

Dinah had bummed around in a few of the 'safe houses' that Oracle had set up for awhile before she had returned to the League. Oracle had given her a list of addresses- among other things- and she had taken them to heart. She had not been formally kicked off the Oracle Network, so she reasoned that she could still take part in whatever the woman had set up. She had been staying at the Gotham apartment for a time, actually considering becoming one of Batman's little army when she had gotten the call to go to Manhattan. She had been relieved. She had almost joined up.

She had arrived that morning, settling into the New York safe house on the upper west side. It was smaller than the Gotham place, but it had a great view of Grant's Tomb and Jersey. A car was included, stored in the building's garage, but it needed a battery recharge and besides everyone knew that driving was hell in Manhattan. She was just a couple blocks from the subway however, and a spanking new Unlimited Metro Card. Oracle thought of everything.

Damn she missed Oracle…

Dinah could count her real friends on one hand. Of those, she could count the women on one finger, and she could not even count her anymore. That had been Oracle. Dinah realized that she did not have any real friends that were women. Sure, Wonder Woman was a friend, but the Princess Diana was not one to hang out with. She was not one to go to a bar and ogle men or look at butts. Diana could not get drunk. Likewise, Zatanna ran in far different circles. The daughter of Zatara was more reachable than the Amazon- more human in her way, but Zatanna was one of Fate's crowd, and as such she always remained a little apart- a little distant. There was Carol Ferris, but they had never really been close, and without Hal there never seemed much point. She had liked Shayera Hall before her last reincarnation, but Kendra was a little caught up in herself. Who was left? Huntress? Catwoman?

Dinah hung her head and sighed. She needed to get a life-

She looked up, hearing gravel crunching underfoot behind her. Her 'date' had finally shown up, twenty minutes late. Typical…

"You're late!" she said, turning abruptly and leaning with her elbows against the rail behind her. She smiled, watching the surprise on the face of her friend- one of the five. He was blushing-

"Yeah, well, I guess a JLA ID throws more weight than an old Teen Titans' one."

Roy Harper smiled, stepping forward to give her a warm and friendly hug. Dinah and Roy went back a long ways, almost to day one of her affair with Oliver Queen. He was Ollie's ward and official heir as far as the courts were concerned, at least at the moment. There was still some debate as to the legitimacy of Connor Hawke in the legal circles- though Dinah knew that the boy was the real deal. Still, Roy Harper would always hold a soft spot in her heart.

They had been through a lot together. They had shared their grief over Ollie's death most recently. Years ago she had seen him through the hard times associated with drug addiction. Oliver in his infinite wisdom had more or less dumped his ward on her doorstep, tripping on heroine then suffering from withdrawals. Dinah had helped Roy get through the first stages of that, and through that long, soul wrenching few days they had grown close. Closer in ways that she would never be with Oliver. Roy Harper was one of her best friends after that hell, and she treasured him.

He was dressed in his relatively new Arsenal uniform- a red kevlar-laced outfit that was stuffed with weapons. Like Robin to Batman, Roy had been Speedy to Green Arrow for far too many years. He had eventually drifted out of his mentor's shadow, becoming a Teen Titan- later a Titan- and a true hero in his own right. He had become one of the top five archers in the world under the Green Arrow's tutelage, but as he had grown he had found that that had not quite been enough. When Roy had finally gotten to the point where he could discard the Speedy persona and strike out on his own, he had chosen the name Arsenal, and with good reason. After his bout with drug addiction, Roy had thrown himself into learning every weapon that he could get his hands on. He became a crack marksman with all types of handguns. He could not only use a bow, but a crossbow as well, and spears, darts, shuriken- all forms of ranged weapons. He knew explosives. He knew heavy weapons and knives. He had become dangerous!

Dinah looked him up and down. He had filled out nicely. He was definitely not a little boy anymore. Hell, he was a father, and she was the godmother of his child. Looking at Roy, she felt so old…

"So how's Lian?"

"She's fine." Blushing again. There was more to this meeting than catching up on old times. "I left her at Titan's Tower. Safest place this side of the moon. How are you doing?"

"I'm good I suppose. Still setting up shop here in the big city. I love New York, but it's a far cry from Seattle. Way too fast to get used to so soon." Roy Harper nodded, smiling- or trying to.

"Cut the crap, Roy. You asked me here for a reason. What do you want?"

She watched as Arsenal looked out over the city. He had been living in Manhattan for some time now, as a member of the Titans. He had made a real name for himself there, and real friends- the 'junior' league of sidekicks that he had banded together with and grown up with; Aqua Lad, Robin, Kid Flash and Wonder Girl. They were all grown up now, with new names and new careers. Actually, he had been the last to make the change-

"I was talking to Nightwing the other day. He'd been talking with Batman…"

"Oh. And what did Batman have to say?"

Harper stepped up to the railing and looked down. He was struggling with this.

"Batman seemed to think- according to Nightwing at least- that you've been a little on edge lately. Y'know, quick to temper. A little heavy-handed…"

Dinah smiled. "And?"

"Well…" Dinah could sense the hesitation in Harper's voice. He was expecting her to blow up at him at any moment. Little did he know that she was in complete control. "Batman suggested that you were lacking in focus. He was hoping actually that Nightwing would convince me to convince you to help out in Gotham for awhile."

"Join his little army you mean? He invited me already. I said 'no'."

"I heard." Roy smiled. "I heard you laughed in his face. Nightwing's probably still laughing over that." They both laughed, a good solid laugh- together. It had been a long time.

"Do you miss Ollie?" he asked suddenly, out of the blue. The laughter stopped, just as suddenly, and Dinah felt something well up in her throat. Probably the last little bit of her shattered heart.

"How can you ask me that, Roy? You know I do. More than you can imagine." Roy Harper sighed-

"I doubt that. Me and Ollie weren't close for a long time, but we got close again. He was my father, Dinah, in everything but name." They were quiet for a time, an uncomfortable silence.

"How are you, Dinah? Really?"

"Is that the Batman asking?"

"No." Harper shook his head, then looked at the Black Canary, meeting her gaze. "It's me asking. Your old friend Roy Harper. The guy whose life you saved."

That hurt, and Dinah frowned. She felt cold. "I'm fine, Roy. Really." Another long silence…

"Why are you here, Roy?"

He shrugged. "Batman aside, I've been keeping an eye on you. Connor too, though not as closely. He didn't know Ollie like we did."

"And?"

"I agree with Batman. At least to a point. You've been bouncing around since Ollie's death. That thing in Santa Prisca, rejoining the JLA, moving from city to city. You need something to do, and I think that I might have the answer."

"You want me to join the Titans?"

"Ha! No, Gar would drive you insane. Actually, I was thinking of Checkmate!"

Checkmate! Dinah knew that Roy- as Arsenal- had been an operative with them for a time, though she had never been sure just how involved he actually was. They were a covert government organization that dealt with foreign terrorists on US soil originally. More recently they had taken to using Metas in their work force, and were dealing with all kinds of problems from Meta terrorists like Kobra to handling internal struggles against the Ku Klux Klan. They had been led by the likes of Amanda Waller and Sarge Steel for a time, but Harry Stein had always been their staying force. Actually, she had even heard that they had disbanded. Rumors always flew fast and furious in the Black Ops world.

"Checkmate?"

"Yeah. There's a mission that I got called up for, actually thanks to Ollie. It seems there's this club he joined, back before he knew either of us, when he was a 'millionaire playboy'. A gentleman's club called the Pyramid Club. I guess that Ollie must have bought in for life, because I started getting mail from them not too long after… Well, I am his heir. Anyway, my old contact in Checkmate contacted me as soon as he found out. Seems the club's hosting a party with a guest list that would have Brando spinning in his grave. Heavy duty mob action from all over; Intergang, the 100, the Tong-"

"And they want you to infiltrate?"

Harper shrugged. "Go figure. Trouble is, I need a date."

The Black Canary laughed. "Aren't I a little old for you, Mister Harper?" Arsenal laughed in return-

"Actually, the general idea was 'widowed boss lady with boy toy'!"

The Black Canary laughed, long and hard. It felt good.

"Checkmate, hunh?" she smiled, looking out over Manhattan once more. She loved this city.

"Tell me more."

To Be Continued…

NEXT ISSUE: Black Canary and Arsenal are Puttin' on the Ritz as they attend the party of the year. Villainous guest stars galore! RSVP and black tie please!

I hope you all enjoyed my first issue of Black Canary. I've always liked Dinah, ever since I first encountered the character (as best as I can recall) way back in the original JLA # 75. She was hot and cool all at once in her leather jacket, fishnets and stiletto boots. It always impressed me too that she could hang with the likes of Superman and Batman with little more than Judo and a sonic cry that she hardly seemed to use. Needless to say- like most of DC- she's been through some changes over the years.

I hope I can do the character justice on this run. I have several stories slated for the next few issues, with an underlying story line running throughout that will hopefully come together around issue 12. You may not like some of the bumps along the road getting there, but if you bear with me, I think you'll like the end result, the final destination. As I said, I've always had a soft spot for the Canary. I won't do her wrong…

Let me know what you think. And if you have any ideas for a name for the letter column, pass it on and you'll get a nod. Above all, Enjoy!

Curt