EXPLORATION by Terry Winder

Copyright 2005

 

Disclaimer: I don't own them and my life would be so different if I did.

 

EXPLORATION

Don't be angry, don't be sad.
Don't sit crying over good
Times you had.
There's a girl, right next to you
And she's just waiting for something to do.

(Stephen Stills - Love the One You're With)

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

= One month before Shayera Hol destroys Solomon Grundy =

 

Sleep wouldn't let go. She remembered falling asleep with his arm around her, pulling her body close to his. She remembered trying to melt into his warmth, trying to fuse the softness of her into him. She remembered feeling content with his nearness - and then the ring flashed, lighting up the room, vibrating on his hand, waking her up.

 

Mari stirred slowly in the double bed. John on the other hand literally leaped out of the bed and formed a uniform on himself. Pointing the ring toward the ceiling, he called out, "Green Lantern of sector 2814 here."

 

His ring cast a warm, soft, green glow, lighting up the room as it formed a holographic image in front of him. Mari watched John in awe as the picture formed.  Then her focus shifted to the woman in the holograph. A female Green Lantern? Wow! Mari knew that there were women in the Lantern Corps, but she hadn't considered the possibility that they had the ability to contact John whenever they wanted. Or that he could contact them whenever he wanted.

 

For the moment, Mari wasn't sure how she felt about this new knowledge. Her relationship with John had just recently entered the intimate phase and while she prided herself on not being the jealous type, this was unexpected. The holographic woman had light blue skin, blonde hair and white piercing eyes. She wasn't pretty. She was beautiful and Mari exhaled sharply as she inwardly admitted maybe she was just a little jealous. What is it with John and these alien women?

 

She sat up in the bed and leaned back against the headboard, placing her pillow in the small of her back. She then pulled the bed sheet up to her chin and cleared her throat loudly to get John's attention. When he looked back at her, she dropped the sheet, letting it fall to her waist. She smiled demurely at John, whose jaw dropped for a moment before returning his attention to the holograph.

 

"Greetings, Green Lantern," the holographic woman said. "I require your advice and private counsel on a somewhat urgent but personal matter. Would you meet me on Altair Four?"

 

"Greetings, Green Lantern," Stewart replied. He frowned. "Droxelle, is it really important?" He paused and looked back at Mari. He flashed a brief smile at her and then frowned and whispered, "She can see you."

 

Oh, damn! In horror, Mari hastily pulled the sheet up to her chin again. This was embarrassing.

 

"John, my apologies to you and your...guest," the woman said pointing over John's shoulder.

 

Mari cringed as she lowered her head slowly and waved her hand weakly at the holograph. "Hello." She then put her hand to her forehead to hide her eyes in embarrassment.

 

"But I ask for your advice as a friend," Droxelle continued, apparently ignoring Mari, "and as my trainer on a most personal matter. I would not ask if it wasn't important to me and if I did not value your counsel."

 

Her name is Droxelle? That's a pretty name. Now, if only I hadn't just made a big fool of myself.

 

"No," John said glancing back at the covered Mari. Then he looked back at Droxelle. "You wouldn't ask unless it was important. I'll be there in three, maybe four hours. Green Lantern of sector 2814 out." The room went dark again save the red glow from the digital clock on the night table. John reached over and turned on the lamp next to the bed. "I have to go," he announced.

 

Mari picked up her pillow and gently tossed it to John's side of the bed. She pushed herself back against the headboard, drew her knees up to her chest and leaned forward. Her chestnut eyes twinkled as she faked a pout, "You know, Boo, a girl could get the wrong idea about you. This looks like a love 'em and leave 'em to me."

 

His mouth had just the hint of a smile as he said, "Lantern business. You'll get used it." She smiled to herself. So he thinks I'll be around long enough to get used to it, huh? Good!

 

He walked around to her side of the bed. She smiled as she raised her head to kiss him but was surprised when he kissed her on the forehead instead of on the lips. "I trained Droxelle. I'm sure this is important and personal otherwise she wouldn't have called."

 

"I'm sure," Mari said. This time the pout was real.

 

He walked over to window, raised the blinds and then opened the window fully. He glanced back over his shoulder at her. His expression was flat. "I'll call you later when I get back. When you leave, lock the door but leave the window unlocked. Have J'onn beam you wherever you want to go. Be back soon." Then he mouthed the words, "take care" and launched himself out the window. She watched as he hovered outside and formed a green hand that closed the window before launching himself skyward.

 

Mari sat in the bed, staring at the window for long moments before finally accepting that John wasn't coming back, wasn't going to say anything else other than "take care." She rolled across the bed and stared at the clock on John's night table.

 

Three A.M.

 

It was just as well. She was going to get up in a couple of hours anyway to catch a flight later in the morning to San Francisco for a modeling gig. But she had hoped that she would be the one to make the memorable exit first, leaving him thinking of her. Maybe next time. And there will be a next time.

 

She grabbed the pillow she'd tossed to John's side earlier and then changed her mind. She tossed that pillow off the bed and grabbed John's, deeply inhaling his scent. Turning off the light, she drifted back to sleep.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

Mari awoke with a start. Had it been a dream? No. She was still in his apartment, still in his bed. She quickly looked at John's alarm clock.

 

Six A.M.

 

She tossed the pillow away and rolled so that she lay extended across the bed. Grunting with each movement, she stretched, pushing her arms as far as she could, rotating her shoulders, sighing loudly with each *pop* the movements generated. She stopped and sat up. She grabbed the sheet off the bed as she stood up and wrapped it around her. A smile crossed her face. The cat's away...

 

She walked to the window and lowered and closed the blinds John had raised earlier when he left. She would raise them again when she left the apartment. There were two windows on that side of the room with a simple straight back chair between them. In front of each window was a radiator. She sat down in the chair, clutching the sheet tightly around her waist. She instinctively put her hand on the radiator, already knowing it was cold and then surveyed the rest of the room.

 

J'onn. John must have been kidding. I'm not calling the Martian and letting him know I'm in John's apartment. That's none of his business. She stood up again and peering through the blinds spotted the food market across the street. I'll have a cab pick me there and take me to the airport.

 

It was funny, she thought, that as many times as she'd been in his apartment, this was the first time she'd had a chance to look around - really look around.

 

You can learn a lot about a man by what's in his bathroom and what's in his kitchen. She looked toward the bathroom first but decided to head to the kitchen.

 

The kitchen counters were spotless. Even the dishes from last night's meal were gone. Did he get up and do the dishes last night afterwards? After we -?

 

She didn't finish the thought. Instead, she opened the refrigerator and found the take out cartons from the Chinese restaurant he'd bought dinner from last night. She made a mental note to herself that they would have to go to Beijing or maybe Shanghai to get a real Chinese dinner - something without the eel heads he kept ordering but wouldn't eat. She was surprised at how well stocked the refrigerator was. She hadn't expected that. She'd half-expected to see pizza boxes and bags full of fries from fast food places. Instead, food was in containers and the containers were dated and labeled. She slowly nodded her head. Someone had trained Mr. Stewart well. Please tell me it wasn't that Hawkgirl.

 

Now she was hungry. But no more Chinese. Did he have any breakfast food? She looked deeper in the refrigerator and found six eggs and a small package of Canadian bacon. Oh. I love Canadian bacon. She took out one of the eggs and sniffed the bacon. It smelled okay but she decided not to press her luck and put the bacon back.

 

She put the egg on the counter top near the stove and searched the cabinets until she found a pot about the right size to boil an egg in. She ran water in the pot and set it on the stove but didn't turn on the burner.

 

Coffee. She didn't see a coffee pot on the counter top. He doesn't drink instant coffee, does he? She opened the pantry and there it was on the middle shelf. A jar of instant coffee and decaf at that. Oh, John. Not decaf.  

 

Suddenly, breakfast at the airport was looking better.

 

She put the egg back in the refrigerator, emptied the pot of water into the sink and returned the pot to the cabinet. Making breakfast here was quickly becoming too hard. She leaned against the sink debating on what time she should leave when her eyes settled on John's set of weights in the corner.

 

She flashed a small grin as she approached the weight set. How much weight does he press? She ran her fingers across the round weights quickly adding them up in her head. Her eyes widened for a moment. Impressive. She sighed, and then frowned. Did Hawkgirl lift weights with him? I wonder how much she could press. Her frown hinted at a smile as she pressed her totem and assumed the strength characteristics of a silver back gorilla. She jerked the bar weights off their bench support stand and lifted it high in the air. Her smile was broader as she placed the weights back on the stand. She glanced at the heavy punching bag hanging from the rafters but decided not to hit the bag while she had the strength of a gorilla. Might damage it too much. She made a note that she would ask John if he would teach her how to train with weights. His ego would like that.

 

She walked to the couch and sat down. John had a large screen TV sitting on a stand. Not as large as hers but very nice. Underneath the TV stand were a couple of videotapes and a VCR. She got off the couch and kneeling in front of the TV, picked up the handful of tapes. There was Old Yeller and a couple of old John Wayne westerns, Stagecoach and She Wore a Yellow Ribbon.

 

This doesn't make sense, Mari thought. She could understand the John Wayne movies. After all, John had a Marine Corps poster on his wall and had a U.S.M.C. tattoo on his shoulder. She giggled as she recalled John pointing to his tattoo. "US Muck" was what he called it. "The guys you call," he said pointing to the wall poster, "when it absolutely, positively has to be destroyed overnight."

 

She shook her head and frowned. Old Yeller just seemed so out of place in this room, in this apartment, out of place with him. Wait! Did that movie belong to her? Did she like movies about rabid dogs being put down? She put the tapes back and grabbed her travel bag from where she'd left it the night before - next to the sofa.

 

Clutching the sheet around her waist, she laid her bag on the bed and took out her change of clothing. She moved to the bathroom.

 

She'd looked in his medicine cabinet last night. There wasn't anything there that seemed out of place or looked like it belonged to someone else. She did note that she and John didn't use the same toothpaste. She briefly wondered if it was the same toothpaste that Hawkgirl used.

 

"Dammit, girl," she said out loud. "Stop competing with a ghost. She's not here and she's not coming back. If you want it, make it yours."  She glanced down at the tile floor for a moment, and then said softly to herself, "You do want it. Don't you?"

 

She turned the shower on and adjusted the water temperature. Standing at the doorway of the bathroom, she dropped the sheet she'd covered herself with to the floor. Then balling it up she tossed the sheet on the bed. She then stepped into the shower and wondered why Old Yeller might be important to John.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

The apartment was dark when Stewart returned the next night. Droxelle's problem had been easy. She'd fallen in love with an inhabitant of a planet she patrolled and she wanted John's opinion on what pitfalls she should avoid if she decided to pursue this relationship. And since everyone knew of John's recent problems, maybe he could guide her. He sighed. I am such an expert on love matters. Yeah, right. Still it was good to see her again and know she was doing well.

 

As he opened the apartment window, he was pleased that Mari had left it unlocked just as he'd asked. And she'd made the bed, too. He smiled. The bed. There's something on the bed.

 

She'd left a package and a note on the bed for him. His grin got a little wider. A gift for me? He opened the package first, not reading the note. It was a videotape. The commercial label on the tape had been covered over with a simple white label. Handwritten on the label, in purple ink, were two words: "from Mari."

 

John dropped the tape on the bed and read the note:

 

"Hi Boo.

 

Called a cab - didn't use J'onn. Locked your door as best I could when I left.

 

Looked at your movie collection and saw that you liked westerns. So do I. Thought I would share with you a favorite of mine: The Magnificent Seven. You remind me of the Chris Adams character. (That's Yul Brynner.) I do so love bald men who wear black. Call me and tell me which character you think I am in the movie. If you guess right, I'll make you dinner. If you guess wrong, you make me breakfast. Mari."

 

There was a P.S. on the note.

 

"Just so you know: I like my morning coffee like I like my men, strong and black. No decaf."

 

John laughed out loud as he walked over to his VCR. He put Mari's tape in the machine, turned his system on and sat back on the sofa.

 

As the Elmer Bernstein score blared out of the speakers, John decided that it didn't matter which character in the movie he thought was "her," he was pretty sure he was going to be wrong. He'd go out and get some regular coffee after the movie was over.

 

Wonder if she likes Canadian bacon?

 

END