Disclaimer: The Characters Batman, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Superman & Flash their respective secret identities are all owned by DC Comics. This story is intended for my own pleasure and is not for profit. It has been posted to this site for others to read. Places and characters not own by DC Comics are my own creation. This story is based on characters from The Justice League Unlimited Animated Series episode: Wake the Dead written by Dwayne McDuffie and Bruce Timm. Thanks to Merlin Missy for her beta on this story.

 

 

 

Frozen Love

Rating: (PG-13)

Synopsis: John Stewart and Shayera Hol rediscover a moment in time.

 

 

It may be hard to keep up with me

But I'll always be able to reach you

And if you go forward (if you go forward)

I'll meet you there

And if you climb up through the cold, freezing air

Look down below you; search out above

And cry out to life for a frozen love. - L. Buckingham & S. Nicks - Frozen Love

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Superman: "John's a strange one. That's for sure."

Hawkgirl: "I'm beginning to think all you humans are." - (In Blackest Night)

 

(Detroit. One week after the failed Thanagarian invasion)

 

"Hello, Mister Stewart," Johnnie Mae said into the telephone. "This is Johnnie Mae Diggs with Kendricks Photo Studio. Yes sir. I wanted to remind you that the ...the pictures are ready. Yes sir, those pictures. I know you asked that we hold on to them but - I beg your pardon; you want us to do what with them? Sir, you realize that Ricky is giving them to you for free. Yes Mister Stewart, I do speak and understand English. Fine! I'll tell Mister Kendricks. Hello? Hello?"

 

She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at it for a moment. "What a pompous jerk!! He hung up on me," Johnnie Mae exclaimed as she hung up the phone. She stood up, picked up the envelope on her desk and walked to the back room of the small storefront photo studio. Above the door of one the rooms in the back, a red light was on. Johnnie Mae walked to this door and knocked.

 

"Don't come in! Can't you see the light is on?" a man's voice shouted out.

 

"The light's on, Mister Kendricks. I needed to talk you about the Stewart photos," Johnnie Mae shouted back through the closed door.

 

There was silence for a few moments. Then the man yelled, "I'll be out in two minutes."

 

"Okay," she said. "I'll be at my desk."

 

Johnnie Mae walked back to her desk and sat down. Business had been slow for the last two years and she was surprised that Mister Kendricks had been able to keep the store open. She figured it was just his Marine Corps background that kept him going. Failure is not an option. Anyway, she thought he was a good boss and he reminded her of how good a boss he was with a paycheck every two weeks.

 

"Okay, Johnnie Mae, what's the problem with John Stewart's photos?"

 

Johnnie Mae was startled as she looked up into the face of her boss. He was frowning.

 

"He doesn't want them," Johnnie Mae answered as she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. "I think they're good, Mister Kendricks."

 

"Are these the pics?" he asked as he took the envelope off the desk. Johnnie Mae nodded. Kendricks opened up the envelope and flipped through the photos. He shook his head as he put the envelope back on the desk. "They're not just good, they're damn good! What did he say was wrong with them?" Kendricks asked. "Does he know it's a gift?"

 

"I told him they were free and he said he didn't care."

 

Kendricks sighed. "Did he say anything else?"

 

Johnnie Mae looked down at her desk and then back up at her boss. "Yes, sir. He said to burn them."

 

(Detroit. Two months earlier)

 

"John, I don't think that this is a good idea," Shayera said as she stepped out of the green energy bubble.

 

"It'll be good fun," Stewart said as the bubble de-materialized. "Besides, I promised the owner I would do this."

 

They were standing in front of a store two blocks from Stewart's apartment. The outside of the storefront was painted royal blue with gold-colored columns framing the front window. In the window itself, on red-carpeted material were portraits in gold trim picture frames. The portraits were of families and single individuals with the pictures ranging in size from 8X10 inches to 20X24 inches. On the glass window, painted in large yellow letters were the words, "Kendricks' Photo Studio."

 

Shayera looked at the pictures in the windows and then looked back at John. He grinned, "Come on."

 

He held the door open for her as she walked inside. Portraits of families and still-life photos lined the walls of the store. To the right there was a reception counter with a heavyset woman seated behind it. To the left was a hallway. As they approached the counter, the woman stood up. She didn't seem surprised to see Stewart but her mouth dropped when she saw Shayera.

 

Shayera walked to the wall and appeared to be studying one of the portraits as John whispered to the woman behind the counter, "Don't stare. Tell Ricky, John Stewart's here to see him."

 

The woman stood there for a moment before Shayera turned to the woman, her hand on her mace and said, "Now please."

 

The woman's eyes widened, then she hurried away from the counter and down the hallway on the left toward the back of the store. Stewart frowned at Shayera.

 

"Don't do that. Come here. I want to introduce you," he said. "You won't need that in here," he said pointing to her mace.

 

Shayera returned the frown. From the back of the store, came a small man about Stewart's age in a black apron, followed by the woman who'd been behind the counter. The man had his arms open wide and he was limping, leaning on a cane.

 

"John Stewart, you old war dog. How are you doing?" the small man beamed as he hugged Stewart.

 

Stewart returned hug saying, "Just trying to keep my head and tail down, you old fool."

 

"Old fool? I'm a year younger than you and prettier too," the smaller man replied. He looked at Shayera and then at Stewart. "But I'm clearly not doing as well as you. Won't you introduce me?"

 

Shayera looked amused by the tableau in front of her. Stewart pointed to Shayera and said, "Hawkgirl, this is Ricky Kendricks, one of the worst photographers the Marine Corps ever had. Ricky, this is Hawkgirl."

 

"Hawkgirl," Ricky said as he bent forward slightly and attempted to grab her hand. Shayera kept her hand locked to her side and looked at John. After a moment, she let Ricky take her hand. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," he said as he shook her hand. "A real pleasure indeed."

 

Stewart cleared his throat when he thought Ricky shook her hand long enough. Ricky stopped and looked up into Stewart's frowning face and into Shayera's bewildered expression.  Ricky cleared his throat and put his hands at his sides. He pointed to the woman behind him. "This is my receptionist, Johnnie Mae."

 

Shayera looked at Stewart and then at Johnnie Mae. "Nice to meet you," she said to the larger woman.

 

The woman returned the greeting timidly. "Nice to meet you, too."

 

"Ricky and I go way back," Stewart said to Shayera. "We met in Mister McGee's class in high school and later went in the Marine Corps together."

 

"Worst mistake of my life," Ricky said to Johnnie Mae.

 

"Worst mistake?" Stewart said. "They taught you a trade and you don't seem to have done too badly."

 

"I wasn't talking about the Marine Corps," Ricky laughed. "I was talking about meeting you in McGee's class." Shayera smirked at Stewart who rubbed the back of neck with his ring hand in his embarrassment.

 

"Anyway, thanks for this. I really appreciate it," Ricky said as Johnnie Mae returned back behind the counter.

 

"Don't mention it. Besides I owe you."

 

Ricky looked at Shayera. "Did Johnny boy ever tell you I took a bullet for him?"

 

Stewart shook his head at Shayera. "He's lying. I was nowhere near him when he was shot at."

 

"Not shot at, John. Shot," Ricky laughed. "Believe me, people who have been hit can immediately tell the difference between the two." Stewart was surprised that Shayera nodded and giggled.

 

Ricky grinned and nodded, "Come on back. Both of you."

 

Stewart and Shayera followed Ricky down the hallway and entered the first room on the right. Inside the room, there was a large bellows camera on a wooden tripod and five lights on stands of various heights. There was a large roll of seamless paper, which hung from the back wall ceiling and ran the length of the floor, stopping just in front of the camera tripod. On the paper, there was a four-legged stool. Against the near wall, there was a wall locker.

 

"Give me just a moment," Ricky said as he started moving the lights around in the room.

 

"John?" Shayera said looking Stewart in the eyes. "What's going on? What's he's doing?"

 

"Like I told you, I told Ricky I would pose for photos that he could put on display. You know, to help him improve business and all." 

 

Ricky interrupted, "People here know John. So if I can make him look good, maybe they'll figure I can take some nice photos of them, too. Of course, I'm going to have to work real hard to make him look even halfway decent."

 

Ricky went to the wall locker and took out five 4X5 inch film holders. He set the film holders on a small table next to the camera. Noticing Shayera looking at the film holders, Ricky smiled as he said, "None of that modern electronic stuff for me, Miss Hawkgirl. I use 4X5 inch cut film, process the stuff myself and print it right here. Look at these hands." Ricky waved his hands in front of Shayera. "These hands touch chemicals - - and it's great."

 

Stewart whispered to Shayera, "He's actually very good. Won several awards. Glad he came back here." Shayera nodded.

 

"Ricky?" she asked. "What do you use to process the film?" Ricky smiled broadly as he answered, "Oh, the standard C-41 film processing setup with nitrogen burst agitation."

 

Shayera smiled back. "Oh. So do all film processing places use nitrogen gas? I mean how many bottles would I need to process film?"

 

"That depends. I go through one fifty pound bottle a week. Most places use a lot more. Why do you ask?

 

"Just wondering," she answered with a smile. "I never realized that photo labs could be a source for compressed inert gases."

 

Stewart shook his head, looked at Shayera and said, "You never fail to amaze me with how smart you are." Shayera said nothing as she lowered her head.

 

Ricky moved the stool back about a foot, placed a small light about the height of the stool behind it and pointed it at the seamless paper.

 

"John. Sit down here," Ricky said patting the stool. Stewart sat facing the camera. Ricky threw a dark cloth over the camera and stuck his head under the cloth as he focused the camera. He grabbed a cut film holder and loaded the camera.

 

"Okay, John. Look at my hand," Ricky directed as he stood next to the camera with his hand on the camera shutter release cable. "Okay say: 'Great sex.'" Shayera suppressed a laugh. Ricky snapped the picture ignoring Stewart's shocked expression.

 

"Shoot another one," John bellowed. "And this time we'll say 'cheese', got it?"

 

"I got it, John," Ricky said. Then he turned to Shayera and said, "Sheesh, you would think a guy would smile at the mention of great sex, wouldn't you?"

 

Shayera looked at John as she pursed her lips into a pout, "Yes. You would think he'd smile at great sex, would you?"

 

Stewart loudly and slowly inhaled keeping his eyes focused on Shayera in a scowl. Then he quickly smiled and then resumed frowning.

 

Ricky rapidly looked back and forth between Stewart and Shayera and then he grinned. "John, get up for a moment," Ricky said pulling Stewart off the stool.

 

He smiled at Shayera. "Miss Hawkgirl, will you sit on the stool? Please?"

 

Shayera looked at Stewart as if she were unsure. "Go ahead," Stewart said to Shayera. "Let's see what your reaction is to 'great sex.'" Shayera's eyes widened as she covered her mouth with her hand while Ricky turned his back to his friend and laughed.

 

"You know what I meant," Stewart said as he realized what he'd said. "Both of you knew what I meant."

 

Ricky stopped laughing, turned around and said, "I only know what you said, bud." He turned to Shayera and repeated, "Miss Hawkgirl, will you sit on the stool, please?"

 

Shayera cleared her throat and then sat on the stool facing the camera, her mace dangling at her side.

 

"Okay, now Miss Hawkgirl, I will need to touch you to turn you slightly for the picture, will that be okay?" Without waiting for an answer, Ricky motioned for Stewart to stand behind Shayera. He positioned Stewart and then held his hands away from Shayera's shoulders. "Okay?" Ricky nodded. Shayera nodded in understanding. Ricky had her lean back slightly into John guiding her with his fingertips. Then he moved the lights around until he had the lighting effects he wanted.

 

Ricky threw a dark cloth over the camera and stuck his head under the cloth as he focused his camera. He flipped the film holder over and re-inserted it in the camera.

 

"Okay, Miss Hawkgirl. Raise your chin. John. Lower your head. Stop. Good. Everyone look at my hand and say 'pizza'," Ricky directed as he stood next to the camera with his hand on the camera shutter release cable. "Pizza" Shayera replied as Ricky snapped the picture.

 

"What? What happened to great sex?" Stewart asked.

 

Ricky bit his lower lip hard but giggled anyway as he answered, "Why are you asking me that? I can't answer that for you, my man."

 

Stewart frowned.

 

"So. How'd you guys meet?" Ricky asked he removed the exposed film holder and inserted another one in the camera. He stopped and grinned broadly. "Sorry for what seems like inane chatter. It's just part of a script I use, you know... to put people at ease. After all, not everyone likes getting his picture taken."

 

He paused, stood next to the camera and flashed a big toothy grin. "Returning to the script, so how'd you guys meet?"

 

"We work together," Stewart said, leaning into Shayera and stroking some of her feathers where he was sure Ricky or the camera couldn't see it.

 

"We catch the bad guys," Shayera added, as she reached down and pushed her dangling mace into John's shin to get him to stop.

 

Ricky grinned at the clunking sound of Nth metal hitting bone and the pained look on Stewart's face. He snapped another picture. "Been together long?" he asked.

 

Stewart scowled. "No more pictures like that one. And no more personal questions."

 

Ricky nodded his head. "No more personal questions, John. But like I said I only ask the questions to get some idea of what kind of portraits to shoot. I mean there is a difference in how I pose pictures for a couple that's been together for fifteen minutes and one that's been together for fifteen years."

 

"No one said anything about a couple's portrait," Stewart stated flatly. The room was awkwardly silent.

 

"Less than a month," Shayera finally said. Stewart was surprised that she said anything. She shrugged her shoulders as she added looking at him, "A photo might be nice to have after all. We can keep it quiet."

 

"Excellent," Ricky said. "And thank you, Miss Hawkgirl. Let's try these poses."

 

For the next fifteen minutes, Ricky posed the pair individually and as a couple. He took pictures of Shayera seated without her mace and with it in her lap and pictures of Stewart and Shayera gazing into each other's eyes. He asked if he could take one of her without her mask and she declined. He took more film out of his locker and shot a total of twenty pictures.

 

"Got some good stuff here, John," Ricky said, as he was finishing up. "Shot my standard wedding picture portfolio on you two. A good photo captures who you are right now this second. It can't tell you who you'll be tomorrow. But I'll tell you this, today your photos show two people who love each other."

 

Stewart's jaw dropped. "And yeah John, it shows that much," Ricky continued. "You'll like the portraits."

 

Stewart and Shayera looked at each other in silence. Then a smile crossed his face. Shayera smiled but not as widely as John.

 

"Looking forward to seeing the pictures," Shayera said as she stood up and moved toward the door.

 

"I'll have the photos ready in about two weeks," Ricky replied as he gathered up the exposed film holders. "I'll show you the way out."

 

When they got to the front door of the store, Ricky turned to Shayera and said pointing at Stewart, "He's a good man."

 

"He is a good man," Shayera parroted.

 

Stewart frowned at Ricky as he said, "You presume a little bit too much, my man. Call me when the photos are ready. I'm two blocks up and in the book." Stewart shook Ricky's hand as he left.

 

Once they were outside, Shayera looked at the pictures in the store window again. She sighed, then looking at Stewart's reflection in the window said, "Now what?"

 

"Well, my place is a couple of blocks down the street. We could get a beer and see what develops," Stewart smirked.

 

Shayera leaped into the air. "Worst. Joke. Ever. Race you." She took off toward his apartment.

 

"Hey!" Stewart called out as he took off after her. "You're cheating."

 

(Watchtower. Two years after the death of Grundy at the hands of Shayera Hol)

 

Stewart was late. The Question had trapped him in the passageway and started mumbling about conspiracy theories. Finally, with his patience at an end, Stewart held up his ring hand and said, "Important message from Oa. Must take it in private." He turned and walked away the faceless man. "I thought your ring was supposed to flash and vibrate when you got a private message," the Question called out loud enough for Stewart to hear him. Stewart held his ring hand up as he continued to walk away. "Gotta go." How'd he know about the ring flashing?

 

He hurried to the cafeteria and found her seated by herself in the corner, her tray showing evidence that she'd already eaten. He smiled as he approached. "How'd it go?" he asked as he sat down across from her. 

 

She looked up. "We're a little late, aren't we?" she said. He noticed that she didn't smile but her eyes sparkled when she saw him.

 

"Couldn't be helped," he replied. "Had to answer a Question."

 

She gave a small smile and shook her head. "I understand."

 

He looked over the contents on her tray and saw an unopened package of saltine crackers. He grabbed the crackers and ripped open the packaging. He hungrily shoved a cracker in his mouth, wiping the crumbs away from his lower lip.

 

"Hungry are we?" she asked with an air of amusement.

 

He rolled his eyes, "Have you ever talked to the Question for more than five minutes?" Her smile widened as she offered him another pack of crackers from her tray.

 

"So how did it go?" he asked again. She sighed and he noticed her slumping. "Easy mission. No problems."

 

"Except," he said tilting his head toward her.

 

She cleared her throat. "There's no 'except'. It went fine."

 

He locked his eyes on hers as he moved his hand under the table and using his ring formed a small hand that grabbed both of her ankles. Her eyes widened for a moment then they narrowed. She moved her right hand off the table as she locked her eyes on his. Suddenly he felt the impact of Nth metal striking his shin. His eyes widened in pain. She smiled as both of his hands quickly appeared on the table.

 

"John, you look like you could use a glass of water. Would you like for me to get you one?" she asked innocently.

 

He cleared his throat. "No thanks. My eyes are making enough for both of us," he whimpered as his eyes started to water. "But," he added after pausing for a moment, "You still haven't told me what's bothering you...and something is bothering you, Shayera. Tell me."

 

She covered her mouth with her hand and studied Stewart for a long moment. Finally she said, "Nothing's changed." She exhaled loudly as she looked down at her fingers on the table. "It's been almost three years since the invasion and they won't stop running from me or avoiding me."

 

"Who is the 'they'?" Stewart asked knowing the answer. If I could take this away from you...

 

"It's everyone. Members up here, people on Earth. They don't trust me and I don't blame them." She added with particular sadness in her voice, "I would have thought I would have been forgiven by now but instead I'm just tolerated up here and still hated down there. If it hadn't been for you, I might have..." Her voice trailed off. "I wish I was like Superman."

 

Stewart stood up. "I think I need a cup of water after all. Come with me."

 

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to get up and walk thirty feet with you and stand there while you get yourself a cup of water."

 

"My cup's in Detroit."

 

 

"I remember this place," Hol said as the green energy bubble touched down on the Detroit city street.

 

"Thought you might," John answered as the bubble dissipated.

 

She looked up and down the busy street rapidly, trying to ignore the eyes of the passersby. But she could hear them whispering to one another as they pointed at her, "It's her. She's the one."

 

Hol sighed and her shoulders sagged. She remembered asking Superman how he regained the trust of the humans after he had been used by Darkseid. Superman's answer was, "One person at a time." It was times like this when she could hear the distrust that Hol wasn't sure she would ever fully regain anyone's trust, including John's.

 

She looked at John's reflection in the window and noticed an odd smirk on his face. She then focused on the pictures in the display window. Hol suddenly gasped, "Oh. My. Stars," and grabbed John's arm and pulled him into the store.

 

As Hol approached the counter, the woman at the reception desk, Johnnie Mae, jumped up when she saw the two and ran to the back of the store yelling, "Mister Kendricks, I think she's back!"

 

Hol was taken aback by the woman's outburst. It was then that she noticed something that wasn't there during her first visit three years ago. The store had customers, lots of them and all of their wide eyes were on her and John. No - just her.

 

Ricky came running from the back of the store and offered John his hand. John grasped the hand and shook it vigorously. Then Ricky grinned at Hol. "It is so nice to see you again."

 

Hol took a deep breath and nodded.

 

Ricky turned to John and winked at him. "Sharp lady...very pretty lady."

 

"The picture...the picture in the window?" Hol stammered. "Why?"

 

Ricky smiled and walked over to the window display and pulled a 20X24 inch framed portrait out of the display case.

 

"This picture?" Ricky said as he handed it to Hol. Inside the gold embossed frame was the portrait of a seated Shayera Hol, in her Hawkgirl guise, holding her mace in her lap with a flat expression on her face. The light sparkled off of her feathered helmet and mace. The portrait itself was nice, Hol thought, but her eyes were locked on an inscription on the frame. The inscription read, "A Friend."

 

She looked at John. "You knew about this?"

 

He nodded. She sniffled loudly and then playfully punched John in the arm. John smiled in amusement.

 

"You asked 'Why?'" Ricky said. "Two reasons. Because of what you did and because of who you were at the moment I clicked this photo. The inscription is truthful." He paused and then added with a smile, "And it's brought me lots of business after I put it out there in the window, too."

 

"Can we get another picture?" she asked Ricky as she handed the photo back to him. Without immediately answering, he returned the photograph to the window display case.

 

"Sure," Ricky answered. "But you can have the ones I shot the last time you guys were here." He looked at John. "Aren't you glad I didn't listen to you?"

 

Hol watched John glare sharply at Ricky. "Thank you," she said. "But I would like to get another photo if possible."

 

"Okay," Ricky answered as he turned to walk away. "It'll be another ten minutes before I can get you in."

 

"We'll wait," she said. Hol could see the confusion on John's face.

 

She turned to him and squeezed his arm and said softly, "To show who we are... at this moment."

 

John nodded as he added, "Yes, at this moment."

 

END