JLU 2001 Fanfiction -World's Finest 2

The World's Finest Team...

JUST ANOTHER MUTHA-$%@&!-ING TEAM-UP STORY

World's Finest #3 - September, Year Three

Wallace West, also known as Wally, and for the sake of this story, also known as the Flash - the fastest man alive - was bored.
Bored silly. Bored stupid. Bored enough to want to watch a Pauley Shore video. Bored.

He was doing his least favorite task in the whole wide world; monitor duty, where you just sit around and alert the other members of the League of emergencies that could not be handled by civilian law enforcement. Sit around. Do nothing. Wait. Bored.

He had completed three hundred and thirty-six crossword puzzles. Seven hundred and forty-three jigsaw puzzles (though the ‘Snowflake in a Field of White’ took him more than five seconds to assemble). One hundred and thirteen word jumble books. Scanned the Internet, joining several anti-super-hero chat rooms (May as well find out who the next playa is, he thought) along the way. He had paced in a circle two thousand four hundred and twenty-three times. He had paced in a square three thousand seven hundred and eighteen times. In the monitor chair, he had changed his position fifty-one thousand, nine hundred and sixty-one times. He was presently drumming his fingers. Don’t ask how many times.

A light flashed over Gotham City on the three-dimensional map on the screen. The Flash sat up straight in less time it takes to blink. Batman. Gotta be on my game here with the man, his mind ordered. His stomach churned. West knew that he was going to say something dumb and Bats would give him that long hard and loud silence of disapproval. He rolled his shoulders and reached for the microphone button at the same time a similar light flashed in the Metropolis sector.

Wally froze in his seat. Wally swallowed. Superman! This must be important if Superman is calling! Gotta be professional, he thought. Gotta play it cool and by the rules. No idle chatter. This is the man! His stomach churned again. West knew that somewhere during the discussion he was going to say something bone stupid. He was a sure as Batman breaks rhymes-with-calls.

Bats would make you feel like you should be wearing a helmet and mouth guard, but it made you question, rethink and perfect your strategy (unless you actually did something that was amazingly stupid). On the other hand, Big Blue would softly chuckle and scold you in a friendly, but patient way. Superman made you feel you did something wrong. Suddenly you were a ten year old caught reading a men’s magazine by your mother (or worse, a nun, which adds a whole ‘nother level). He shivered at 70 MPH and hit both the Gotham and Metropolis buttons and flipped on the microphone.

There was a small pause on the line from Gotham. “You have an agent in Metropolis?”

Cold perspiration coated the inside of West’s mask. The constant switching of his attention between Metropolis and Gotham City was rattling him.

The snap of Wally’s eyelids shutting was followed by a brief period of uncomfortable silence, followed by a soft chuckle.

Wally ground his teeth at normal speed, knowing if he did what came naturally, he would end up with a mouthful of stubs. He activated the Justice League transporter. B-slapped by Superman. As if Batman wasn’t bad enough.

He ran out of the monitor room and down the hall (five floors below) to the member’s suites, stopping in front of J’onn J’onzz’ room, his after images coming to a stop behind him before vanishing. Wally tapped on the door. Then tapped again, this time slightly harder. Then he knocked. Flash sighed. He knocked a steady rhythm of ‘Shave and a Haircut; Two Bits’ on the doorframe for thirty seconds before the door opened.

Standing above him, morphing back into humanoid form from his Martian physique, his red eyes bored into Wally’s opaque shields.

“Yes,” the Flash grinned. He reached out and brushed a few crumbs from his crossed red straps. “I didn’t know Chocos was a religion?”

“Superman and Batman are coming in with two possible heroes from an alternate universe,” the Flash said quickly. “Batman called Epsilon seven, Alpha. That’s maximum containment!”

“He always calls for Epsilon seven, Alpha,” muttered J’onn. He adjusted his cape and rose from the floor and through the ceiling until he came to a stop in the transporter room. The Flash appeared next to him in less than a second. The transport lights went on and four figures materialized in the room. Flash and J’onn studied the newcomers and their costumes, both glancing to each other as they noticed the comparison to their friend’s uniforms. And the physical resemblance.

“The Martian Manhunter, and the Flash,” began Superman, “This is the Midnighter.”

The Midnighter lips turned up in distaste when he saw Wally and J’onn’s uniform.

All eyes turned to Batman and his guest. Batman stared back then glanced up at the silver haired man.

“Okay,” cut in Midnighter. “Enough with the welcome wagon bullshit. There is a nutbag in your area and he’s looking to hook up with two of your assholes.”

Superman and Batman exchanged looks. J’onn and Wally looked at each other. The Flash’s body sighed as he rolled his eyes upward and shook his head.

Superman opened his mouth and closed it. He looked at Apollo. His eyes turned to Midnighter. “Who?”

“Myron Eugene Spazinski,” said the Midnighter. “He’s the scumbag we’re chasing.”

“We’re chasing a villain who has the power to disrupt the multiverse and his name is Myron Eugene Spazinski?” asked Superman.

“Don’t let the name fool you,” said Apollo. “The man’s out of his mind and capable of anything.”

“You’re asking us to believe you,” said the Man of Steel. “Without any evidence except, poof; here you are.”

Wally West had endured far too many things in his young life. Being frozen in a block of ice. Running through time, chasing a psychotic speedster. Suddenly turning into a Flash version of Gorilla Grodd. At least he wasn’t turned into a puppet (OH, GAWD! That would suck!), he rationalized. One of the many things he liked to avoid was being part of a mind scan. Linking of minds were unsettling enough, with these voices and their raw emotions pouring through his brain like a flood, which (when the mission was completed) would just shut off. He was used to it and knew it was a valuable tool the team used. But linking. It is all past and present visions tinged with all the emotional reactions felt at the time. It came with baggage and a very large luggage rack.

Midnighter fighting Superman. Apollo fighting Batman. Both sizing each other up through every punch or kick. Both newcomers explaining the reasons for their entry into our universe and the urgency involved. Flash felt himself lifted from the rush of Superman’s overwhelming need to help, only to be left chilled by the doubt and distrust of Batman. He looked over to J’onn. The Martian Manhunter stared straight ahead, nodding slightly in understanding.

“Look,” sneered Midnighter in Batman’s face, “Just send us back, and leave us alone! We’ll get the Spaz and get out of your ass!”

The corner of Batman’s mouth rose in a dark quarter smile. “You really don’t think we’re just going to release you?” he asked.
Midnighter took a step closer to the Dark Knight.

Almost on cue, Apollo and Superman zipped behind Midnighter and Batman and held onto their respective shoulders to keep them from advancing on each other. They both wore similar I-knew-this-would-happen expressions as their dark associates struggled slightly in their grasp.

“Stop,” said J’onn. The word was said without urgency, or any vocal inflection to alter its tone. It was flat as flat could be. Yet, it wasn’t the command itself or its suddenness that brought all five heroes to their knees.

Tying-your-shoelace-directly-beneath-a-Howitzer-as-it’s-being-fired loud. Apollo pulled himself to his feet and looked at Batman who was doing likewise. His eyes swam once, then cleared. He looked at Batman, then at Superman, then at Midnighter. His golden smile appeared on his face.

“Look,” he said, his muscular arms going up in a shrug, “We started this all wrong. This is your world, and we need your help finding this madman.”

“To preserve our union,” he continued, “I suggest we break into teams. That way we can hit both Metropolis and Gotham City simultaneously, and find the Spaz before he enlists your enemies.”

Superman looked at J’onn, who glanced down at Wally, who looked down at his feet than look at Batman, who was staring intently at the heroes from another universe.

Apollo flashed a high megawatt grin. “I think that Midnighter will go with Supreme Man . . . “

It makes sense, said Superman. We can also observe their methods of crimefighting.

Gentlemen, said J’onn. If you wish, I will scan them. If their intentions are true, then you have your answer. If I detect anything false to their declarations, we will know what to do.

J’onn, said Superman. Since Flash headed the watch tonight, when you scan them, link Wally. He needs to be in the know as your backup should anything happen.

J’onn linked himself with Flash, then scanned the surface of the Midnighter’s mind. Wally flinched seeing battles, wars, fights, out and out carnage, and other past events imprinted across the man’s mind, like shadows moving within shadows. J’onn scanned his thoughts for all information on the Authority and Myron Eugene Spazinski, finding his perception of and feelings towards Spazinski exceptionally dark, brutal and grisly. He glanced at Flash and moved their minds to Apollo’s. Wally noticed that similar events played there as well, but instead of shadows, it was a fine sparkling silver/white mist. Again J’onn focused on Myron Eugene Spazinski and found the same information, and noticed his perception of and feelings towards the man was exceptionally dark, brutal and grisly, yet encased in that shimmering haze. He was about to leave when a subconscious thought throbbing in the corner of Apollo’s mind made him turn back.

Batman and Superman studied J’onn’s face, ignoring the discussion between Apollo and Midnighter. They were waiting for their comrade to give the affirmative to stopping this potential crisis.

“We do not need them!” whispered Midnighter, his arm fighting the urge to point in them’s direction.

“This is not our world!” snapped Apollo. “Here’s our choices! Either we use the information we have and waste precious time searching the cities, or they could take us directly to where these Luthor and Joker fucks are. And that’s where we’ll find Myron Eugene Spazinski. Both of them, if we’re lucky. Every minute saved in this world prevents a lifetime of disaster in all worlds.”

The Midnighter’s eyes squinted as he peered at his partner. “What’s going on?” he asked.

Midnighter lowered his head and stared at the highly polished floor. He looked up with a calm serious expression. “Look,” he began, “We both know I’m a very cynical person, right? Right. So please excuse me when I ask, what are you up to?”

“I’m not going there,” Midnighter said. He made a small snarling sound in his chest as his eyes shot to the ground. “Fine,” he said. “The faster we find Spazinski, the faster we can get home.”

Wally West was the fastest man in the world, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop his jaw from dropping.

Batman’s jaw tightened. Superman frowned slightly. Midnighter and Apollo realized that they were the center of attention.
“Yes,” said J’onn finally.

Batman stared at J’onn J’onzz for several seconds. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Let’s just get this done, okay?” he asked. He stopped and walked over to Batman. “You were having us scanned, weren’t you,” he said in a dark whisper but not in a question. “You wanted to see if we were telling you the truth.”

Batman stared at the dark leathered figure. “Yes,” he said in a tone he normally regulated to the mentally impaired. “What did you think we’d do? Take you upon your word alone and release you on an unsuspecting public?”

Midnighter leaned in close to Batman’s face. “Did you listen in?” he said grinning. “You like what you saw there? You wanna taste?”

“Along the way,” began Apollo, standing in front of Batman, arms folded across his chest and legs akimbo, “I’d like you to tell me about your world.”

Batman eyes glanced at the top of the Midnighter’s head over Apollo’s shoulder, then snapped back, locking with Apollo’s eyes. “Why?”

“Always good to know where you’re at,” he said with a grin. “I’m sure you have a lot to tell me,” he added, placing a strong warm hand on Batman’s shoulder.

Superman and Midnighter stood on the transporter padd. A glow formed around them and they disappeared in a flash of gold light.

Apollo stepped aboard the padd, still chatting with Batman, his warm hand still on his shoulder. Batman stared straight ahead grinding his teeth and flexing his hands in and out of fists. A flash of light and they were gone as well.

Wally snorted and fell to the floor giggling, kicking his feet, sending a twenty-mile an hour wind at the walls. J’onn turned to the large viewscreen and stared at the vastness of space.

“Which part, Wallace?” asked J’onn still staring out the viewscreen. “The fact that they are gay and married? The fact that Apollo feels slighted by Midnighter because he forgot their anniversary, so he is going to use Batman to make his partner jealous? The fact that there is a 93% chance that the Midnighter may retaliate by doing the same with Superman (though there is a 49% probability that he will deduce the true . . . nature of our friends, and abandon his retaliation)? Which part of this information would assist in the investigation?”

“You have a point, J’onn,” said the Flash nodding. “This is on a need-to-know basis,” he added in a strong assured voice. His jaw vibrated and a small smile broke across the Scarlet Speedster’s face. He pressed his lips together to hold back the burst of hysteria.

“In regards to health matters, Wallace,” said J’onn, his eyes still on the moving stars, “It would be advisable that this information is omitted from the Watchtower logs. I would also suggest that this information remain between you and me alone.”

The Martian flexed his massive shoulders underneath his cape and tilted his head towards a nebula. “Hypothesis: Plastic Man is on Watchtower duty and becomes bored, which has been known to occur in the past.” J’onn’s jaw tightened. “Usually with horrific results,” he muttered. “He accesses the Watchtower logs out of said boredom and finds this detailed entry. Query: How long do you surmise others finding out this information? How long before this appears on the world wide web? How long do you surmise it be before Batman finds out it was you who did not delete this part of the entry, thus preventing this hypothetical action from taking place? How long is your life expectancy?”

“You have a point, J’onn,” he repeated. A sudden thought came to him and Wally smiled slightly, though somewhat suspiciously. “Though if this was any other person, I would suspect him of wanting a private front row seat to watch Bats and Supes squirm.”

J’onn was silent and canted his head to observe another star cluster. “If I were any other person,” he replied.

Flash shook his head. “You’ve been around the Blue Beetle and Booster Gold for too long,” he grinned and zipped back to the main computer to see if there were any incoming emergencies.

“Far too long,” J’onn sighed. “Now unless there is another state of emergency you have not mentioned, I will retire to my quarters to continue my meditation.”

Flash smiled. “Go ahead, J’onn,” he said. “Sorry for interrupting you.”

“It had to be done,” the Martian Manhunter replied. He nodded once and his body became intangible and began to slide slowly through the floor.

“Oh, J’onn?” Wally said from over his shoulder as he signed on ten online video games.

“Did I mention I brought up five cases of Double-Stuffed Chocos?” he asked, sitting down in the chair.

J’onn was silent. He regarded the back of Wally West’s head for a few seconds. “Double . . . stuffed?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Wally said absently as he destroyed (in various ways) three dragons, five gangstas, some twit in silver armor with legs that extended like stilts, and (accidentally) one Hobbit. “There was a special at the Keystone Shop n’ Save, so I picked up five cases. Cleaned the store out,” he said turning only to flash a grin.

“H’ronmeer’s Curse,” he muttered and J’onn slid the rest of the way through the floor. His head suddenly popped back through.

“This is not one of your attempts at humor, is it Wallace?” J’onzz asked in a dark voice.

“Feel free to scan my noggin, J’onn,” Wally said blowing up a tricked out Caddy, three Wraiths, two mountain Orcs, and some loser baddy whose gimmick was adhesive.

“I have always liked you, Wallace,” J’onn said as he disappeared from view.

The Flash finished the games and accessed a dozen more. Except for the sounds of simulated gunfire, a wizard’s staff blasting magical bursts of energy, missiles exploding, and an irritatingly repeated ‘Bub’ from one of the characters in a game, the room was silent.

After an additional ten minutes of complete immobility, something with an egg-shaped body, a retractable neck and a triangular formed unit that served as a head, floated down from behind a beam near the ceiling. It stopped about ten feet above the Flash’s head, then silently zipped out of the room, down the hall, and towards the member’s suites. Skeets turned the corner and, feeling he reached a proper distance away from the monitoring section, sang in a perfect approximation of Doris Day’s voice:

Once I had a secret love
That lived within the heart of me
All too soon my secret love
Became impatient to be free
So I told a friendly star
the way that dreamers often do
Just how wonderful you are
And why I’m so in love with you

Now I shout it from the highest hills
Even told the golden daffodils
At last my heart’s an open door
And my secret love’s no secret anymore

Skeets released what would be considered a giggle by human standards and turned the corner.