Tribes

TRIBES by BillA1

Disclaimer: The characters Batman, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Superman & Flash and 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 are my own creation. Thanks to Merlin Missy for her beta on this story. Notes: Spoilers up through "Epilogue." Not a direct sequel to any previous work, but references material that appeared in Living with Shadows and Bookends.

Tribes

A Justice League Unlimited Story

Rating: (PG-13)

Synopsis: Everyone is part of a tribe. John Stewart, Shayera Hol and Rex Mason discover theirs.

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Chapter One

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The woman's got soul

The power of love and the power of healing

This life isn't fair

It's gonna get dark, it's gonna get cold

You've got to get tough, but that ain't enough

It's all about soul. - (All About Soul - Billy Joel)

(Metro Tower)

It had been a long shift and Stewart was glad it was over. There'd been a mission in Hawaii against a volcano monster and then flooding in Chile. He was tired and very happy to turn over the watch to Doctor Light.

His stomach growled and Stewart debated whether to eat in the small canteen at the Metro Tower, on the Watchtower in the larger cafeteria, or just hold on and get something to eat at his apartment in Detroit.

He hesitated. If he went back to his apartment, there would probably be messages on the answering machine from Mari, who was modeling in Bangkok. He shook his head. Not now. I just don't feel like it right now.

He walked out of the Metro Tower and into the bright sunlight and cold crisp air of early December. He sighed. At least he'd finished his Christmas shopping and he was grateful for that.

He'd picked up a small brooch for Mari, although she probably already had more jewelry (and of better quality) than he could ever give her. Still, he knew she would take it and smile at him and tell him how happy she was to have it.

While he was at the jewelry store he'd spotted a small gift for Shayera. Right now, they weren't on gift exchanging terms and he wasn't sure when he'd ever give it to her, but when he saw it, he knew it was for her. He put her gift in the pocket dimension he kept his Lantern battery. One day when the time is right, I'll give it to her.

He took another deep breath. There was something about winter that Stewart loved. The chill in the air didn't bother him because he was protected by his ring. But he loved that he could see his breath in the air and he flashed back to his younger days when his Grandma would make soup on cold days like this. Vegetable beef soup.

There was a wide grin on his face as he decided that a cup of soup from the orbiting Watchtower would be just what he needed. He launched himself skyward.

(Watchtower cafeteria)

"Then John looked the big guy in the eye and said, 'If you don't mind, can I get that to go? Please?' And for two years, John never went back to Freeport until he was sure the guy was gone."

Shayera laughed so hard that tears came to her eyes. For the last half hour, Rex Mason, also know as Metamorpho, had regaled her with stories about his days with John while they both were in the Marine Corps. She was pleasantly surprised to discover that in his younger days, John had been a very different man from the stern, serious individual he was today.

It had been a chance meeting in the cafeteria. The lunchroom was packed when Shayera entered, and she'd seriously considered eating her meal in her quarters.

There was an unspoken rule that League members followed and which created a membership hierarchy. Shayera didn't like this caste system much, but she didn't protest it either because most of the time it worked to her benefit.

On one tier were the original seven members. The seven preferred eating with each other or eating alone; they socialized together and had a history of bedding each other. At least, that was the rumor among the rest of the Leaguers. And the seven did nothing to dissuade that thinking because it gave the others a feeling that there was unity among the core members.

On the second tier was everyone else.

The seven could join anyone at a lunch table whenever they wanted, but the second tier would never sit down with a member of the original seven unless specifically invited to do so. If there had been an empty table, Shayera would have been assured that she could eat alone, in peace.

She preferred to eat alone.

She knew there were rumors, ugly rumors, about carnal things she was supposed to have done to get back into the League after the invasion and who she had to pleasure to keep her status as one of the seven. There was a rumor that there was no lock on her door for the other six core members. The rumor about how she pleased Wonder Woman so much that the Princess took her back to Themyscira to share her with others was particularly hurtful. It didn't matter that she and Diana went to Themyscira to restore Diana's father, Hades, to his throne. The fact that she and Diana left together after Diana was seen entering her room fed one rumor after the other.

The rumors had been most prevalent right after her return. They'd tapered off while the League was focused on Cadmus, but now had resurfaced with a vengeance. She'd recently been seen hugging the Flash since the League's triumph over the hideous combination of Luthor and Brainiac, so the rumor mill assumed it was finally his turn with her.

She sighed. After all, a trashed reputation was just another price to be paid for the invasion, wasn't it?

It wouldn't do any good to deny the rumors, anyway. Denial would only give credibility to the lies by acknowledging that they existed. The other six ignored the rumors and she was supposed to as well. As long as she and the other six knew the truth, that was all that mattered. So Superman had told her, but she noticed that although he'd had his share of suspicion and distrust thrown his way after that incident with Darkseid and again after Captain Marvel, no one had ever joked that Superman had kept his status as leader by being the town whore.

She was about to walk out of the cafeteria with her tray when she noticed Metamorpho sitting at a table by himself. He saw her and motioned for her to come over. She hesitated and after some long moments finally walked to his table.

"Yes?" she asked. Her jaw was firm, her voice almost projecting contempt. It was a tone she practiced in her quarters late at night when no one could hear.

He stood and smiled. "Hi. It's a bit crowded in here now, but as you can see, I have plenty of room at my table." He swept his arm in a mocking arc across the table. His eyes smiled as he said, "Would you like to join me here?"

Shayera gave him a tight lipped smile. "No. But thank you."

She'd just turned to walk away when he said, "Look. I'm almost finished and you can have the whole table to yourself when I leave. I promise not to say anything and you don't have to look at me, but there's no reason you can't sit down."

Shayera turned to face him as he continued, "You were probably going to eat in your quarters, right? Your food will get cold. You should stay out here and take in all this wonderful ambience." His smile broadened.

She glared at him. "It's salad. It's supposed to be cold." She paused and frowned as he smiled. "And what do you mean I don't have to look at you?" she added.

His smile faded. "What pretty lady wants to look at me while she's eating?" He lowered his head. "That's why I'm alone at this table. My looks put off a lot of people." He nodded toward her and sat down. "Like I said, I'm about two minutes from finishing and then you can have this table."

Shayera gave a tight grin and sat down. "I changed my mind. I'd be happy to sit at your table, and I'd like it if you'd stay for as long as you can, Metamorpho."

"Call me Rex," he answered. Then he smiled broadly, flashing his teeth. "The pleasure is all mine. It's been a while since I sat in the company of anyone as pretty as you."

Shayera, who had picked up her fork, put it down. Her eyes widened for a moment and then she suppressed a giggle and shook her head. "Down, boy! Are you sure you're not the Flash in disguise?"

Rex nervously laughed. "No, no. I wasn't hitting on you, although I'm probably making my Marine Corps buddies cringe by saying that. I mean, I should be I guess, but I... Let me stop while I'm ahead."

"That's a good idea," Shayera answered in a voice she hadn't used in months. It was a lighthearted voice. It was a voice with a smile to it. Hmm. He's a lot like John. Damn, Hol. Why did you just think that? They're just friends.

"I thought you had a lady friend," Shayera asked. Wasn't her name Sapphire or something? She took a bite of her salad.

"Still have the lady friend," Rex said. He sighed. "She's running Stagg Enterprises now. This is the week of her stockholders' meeting. We both thought it best that I not be around during the boardroom meetings." He shook head. "I'm a reminder of a failed experiment and her father's ... well, you know."

Shayera nodded. She understood all too well what it was like to be a reminder to others of past unpleasantness. She took a sip of her drink and asked, "So, you and John were soldiers together, huh?"

Rex suddenly frowned and shook his head. "No, ma'am. Not soldiers. Marines. Big difference. Just ask a Marine."

Shayera was puzzled. Prior to the invasion, she'd researched the militaries of Earth and knew that within a single nation there would be different types of armies specializing in either sea, air or land warfare. When she'd tried to explain to John about her mission, she called him a soldier hoping he would understand her dilemma. Now she wondered if everything had degraded so quickly because she misunderstood his pride in his military organization.

She put her fork down. "But I thought Marines were called Soldiers of the Sea?"

Rex cleared his throat and fidgeted in his seat. "Er... .Yeah. Um. Well. Um. Yeah. So how's that salad?"

She smiled. "The salad is fine. Let me try again. So you and John were in the Marine Corps together, huh?"

Rex sat up and beamed. "Yeah, a long time ago. He was in my platoon. I knew then he was going to be a big success. The man was so innovative."

Shayera's eyes widened. "Oh? How so?"

Rex leaned forward across the table. "Well, this is going to sound silly, but there was this one time when... ."

Stewart stood in the doorway of the cafeteria, looked around the lunchroom before entering and then lowered his head. He saw her at the table with Mason. She was laughing and she didn't do that often enough, he thought. She has such a wonderful laugh. But now this was a problem. If he ate in the lunchroom, he would be expected to sit with them, but knowing her, she'd want to leave as soon as he sat down. What to do?

He decided he'd stop over and say "hi" and then get his soup to go. He'd eat it in his quarters on the Watchtower.

Stewart walked over to the table and stood where they both could see him. He put on his Lantern face and nodded at both. Mason smiled and nodded back. Shayera stopped laughing and looked at him with a hint of a smile on her face.

"Shayera," Stewart said in greeting. "Hey Mace, what's going on?"

Shayera nodded and answered, "John." Then she stood. "I'd better be going." Right on cue.

Mason shook his head and pointed at Stewart. "Don't go on his account. Besides, I didn't finish telling you about how heavy an 80mm mortar base plate is. John knows, don't you, bud?"

Shayera glanced at Stewart. Her eyes were wide. Stewart cleared his throat. "Have you two been talking about me?"

Mason turned his head and coughed. "Of course not."

Shayera grinned and slapped her hand to her chest. "Of course not."

Stewart frowned and looked sharply at both of them. "No," he said in a low voice. "Of course not." He turned to Shayera. "You should stay. Like he said, don't wander off on my account. Just saw you here and wanted to say hello." He flashed a quick smile at both and turned to leave.

"Hey. Look," Mason called out after him. Stewart turned.

"You're a galaxy traveler," Mason continued. "Before you go, would please tell Shayera how nasty the beans and mutterfu... um... bean and frankfurters in the old C rations were? Shayera has said that it can't be nastier than Travelian lizard soup."

Stewart quickly looked at both of them. Shayera sat down again. What the hell is Travelian lizard soup?

"I never had that lizard soup," Stewart replied, "but if Shayera thinks something tastes nasty, it's probably pretty bad."

Shayera grinned for a moment and then quickly frowned at Stewart. "And what does that mean? Most of the stuff I've eaten on this planet has tasted pretty bad if you want to know the truth. I can't tell you what I'd give for a bottle of Cafvan pepper sauce to season some food around here."

Mason's eyes widened. "Cafvan Pepper? Is that like Tabasco sauce?"

Shayera grinned back. "Much better."

What's going on between these two? Wait a minute, Stewart. Are you jealous?

"Better, huh?" Mason answered. His eyes narrowed. "Soooo, where can we find this all powerful, wonderful sauce?"

Shayera shook her head. "Not here. It's found only in the Omega quadrant."

Mason looked disappointed. "Oh," he said softly. Then he grinned. "Well, let's get a Javelin and go."

"Whoa, Rambo!" Stewart frowned. "Do you hear yourself? First, it may not be safe for Shayera to leave the planet, and second, do you have any idea how long it would take to get to the Omega quadrant in a Javelin?"

Shayera looked at Mason. "John's right," she said lowering her head. Good girl. Then her head snapped back up as she grinned. "A Javelin's too slow. John's ring is faster."

Stewart's jaw dropped. "What?" he stammered. "You're not seriously thinking about going, are you? It can't be safe out there for you."

Mason stood up. "She can wear a mask like the Lone Ranger. Come on, buddy. It'll be like old times when we used to make those midnight fat pill runs. Just a quick hit mission, in and out. We'll be back before anyone knows we're gone."

Stewart growled at Mason. "Mace, you're not helping." He turned to Shayera. "You can't be serious about this?"

Shayera shrugged. "I have an outfit I can wear and I know exactly where to go to pick up a couple of bottles of the sauce." She paused and gave him a wicked grin. "We could be back before Mari misses you."

Stewart bristled at the mention of Mari's name. He shook his head, frowned at her and pointed to Mason. "You. You shouldn't encourage him."

Mason lightly tapped Stewart on the shoulder. "Encourage me?" Mason said in a low voice. "You two are the space travelers here," Mason continued. "I never get to leave this damn planet. Hell yeah, encourage me! You know, John, there was a time when you couldn't wait to go on something like this. And as for her safety, man, I've no doubts she could hold her own with the best of them. But don't worry. I've got her back."

Mason sat down and lowered his head. "Of course," he added, "it would be nice if you were there to cover my back. You know, just in case we run into something."

Stewart slowly shook his head again and pursed his lips. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the two of them. They were both grinning.

Damn!

He sighed loudly. "Aw hell. How do I get talked into these things? I came here for soup." Stewart looked at Shayera and sighed again, longer this time. "Okay, go saddle up and get changed. We'll leave after I finish my soup."

He paused. "Hope this pepper sauce is worth it."

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Chapter Two

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"No better friend, no worse enemy" - motto of the First Marine Division

Stewart's transport bubble moved with incredible speed through space. Shayera had given him directions to a small planet in the Omega quadrant named Cauth.

"Remote planet," she'd said. "Almost no one goes there. Only has four or five settlements on the entire rock." For about three seconds, Stewart contemplated asking her how she knew where this place was, but decided that he really didn't want to know the answer.

Shayera wore the white and black costume she'd sported when she returned to the League after killing Grundy. But she also wore a white helmet that looked very much like the mask the female Thanagarian who built the bypass wore. It was the first time he'd seen her in a mask since the invasion.

Stewart had to admit that while he didn't care much for the black and white costume, he did like the suit with a helmet. The helmet also hid that she'd rolled her hair into a very tight bun so that none showed.

It was funny, he thought. With her face covered and dressed so differently, his brain told him he shouldn't be able to recognize her. Yet he could visualize her face beneath the mask and felt sure he could pick her out in a crowd of Thanagarians in a heartbeat. He wondered if he'd somehow picked up the cues Thanagarians used to recognize each other.

Stewart draped a long cloak around himself to hide his Green Lantern uniform. That would be his camouflage. Mason needed no disguise. In a universe of infinite diversity, Mason would not be looked upon as being too unusual once he left Earth.

They landed outside of a small settlement and quickly walked to what appeared to be a general store. Shayera wasn't kidding. She knew exactly where she was going and moved with a purpose. She approached the clerk behind the counter and asked for the pepper sauce in Basic, a universal language spoken in the galaxy. Mason stared at the clerk until Stewart nudged him with a: "You should have brought a camera."

Mason gave Stewart a puzzled look. "Huh?"

"Don't stare," Stewart replied. "You look strange to him too."

"Oh. Yeah. So what'd she say?" Mason asked as he looked around the store.

Stewart spoke softly, "She asked for three bottles of the pepper sauce." Mason nodded.

The store clerk eyed all three suspiciously, seeming to pay special attention to Mason. Then he turned and pulled down three bottles of purple sauce from a shelf above his head.

Mason was rapidly moving all over the shop, touching everything. Stewart smiled to himself. Kid in a candy store. Mason was right. The things that he and Shayera took for granted were all new experiences to his old friend.

Mason stood next to a barrel of what looked to be smooth-surfaced, gray rocks about the size of his fist. "John, help me pick out something for Sapphire. And you're right," he said as he picked up a rock. "I should have brought a camera." He turned to Stewart, held up the rock and asked, "What about this?"

Before Stewart could answer, the rock changed in color from gray to yellow, opened its eyes and screamed at Mason in a long, loud whine. Mason immediately dropped the rock back in the barrel and looked at Stewart. "Never mind."

Mason turned to see Shayera had her mace energized, was airborne, and had assumed a defensive posture. The clerk behind the counter had a pistol or weapon of some sort trained at Mason.

"Whoa," Stewart said, putting his hands out in front of him, palms out. "Let's all stand down. It was an accident. He didn't mean to wake the damn thing up, whatever it is."

"No. Whatever it was, I didn't mean to do whatever I did," Mason added. He mimicked Stewart's open palm gesture. "What did I do?"

Shayera frowned, landed and clipped her mace to her hip. "Those are Hilayrean oysters. They react to changes in temperature. Your hand was either hotter or colder than where it was. So it let you know that it was unhappy."

Mason looked back in the barrel and noted that the oyster's color had changed back to gray. He nodded. "Definitely not taking that back to Sapphire."

Shayera gave the clerk some coins and he gave her a bag containing the bottles. Don't ask where the money came from, Stewart, because you really don't want to know that either.

The clerk looked like he wanted to get them out of the store quickly. And Stewart supported that plan completely.

As they walked out with the pepper sauce, Mason suddenly stopped.

"We're not going back now, are we?" Mason asked.

"Yes. We got the sauce. Let's go," Stewart answered.

"What did you have in mind?" Shayera asked. Oh no.

"It doesn't matter what he has in mind," Stewart snapped, sharper than he really meant to, he would recall later. He eased his tone as he said, "We got what we came for and we should go."

"We ought to hear him out first, don't you think?" she growled.

"Um, Mommy? Daddy?" Mason said. Both Stewart and Shayera looked at him and frowned.

"You two," Mason said shaking his head. He sighed. "Look, is there a chance in hell that I can get a cup of that lizard soup here before we go back to Earth?"

Stewart lowered his head and sighed, then looked at Shayera. "Well?'

"Over there," Shayera said softly pointing to what seemed to be a bar.

Stewart arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "In there?"

Shayera nodded. "No good eating place is going to sell Travelian lizard soup."

Mason started walking toward the building Shayera had pointed out.

"Well? Let's go," he called back to Stewart and Shayera.

Stewart looked at Shayera and shrugged. "You heard the man. Let's move."

As he accompanied Shayera across the street to join Mason, who'd already entered the bar, Stewart reflected upon what Mason had said. "Mommy and Daddy," he'd said. Stewart had seen the future. He knew that both he and the woman at his side would answer to those names one day. But first there was Mari and then there was that Carter Hall dude.

He and Shayera entered the bar and found Mason seated on a four legged bar stool waiting for them. Inside the bar, music played. It wasn't a particular melody that Stewart could discern, just pleasant background noise. The lighting inside was poor, despite it being daylight outside and a large mirror behind the bar counter reflecting what light there was. Stewart immediately looked to see if there was another exit from the place. There was a door on the left hand side of the room. No telling where it goes, but it leads out of here and that's all I need to know.

Looking around, he observed that there were ten beings in the bar seated at three different tables. One of the tables was about two meters behind Mason's bar stool. There were four male Rossians at that table. Rossians were known as one of meaner and uglier races in the universe. They were huge hulking brutes who took immense pleasure in their ability to inflict intense pain on their foes. Stewart immediately wished Mason had picked another part of the bar to sit at. Shayera sat on a stool next to Mason. Reluctantly, Stewart sat on the other side of Shayera.

The barkeeper, a multi-tentacled blue alien, stood at the far end of the bar talking to two purple-skinned beings. "I don't speak the lingo," Mason said. "But he seems to have put me on permanent ignore."

Stewart coughed loudly trying to get the barkeeper's attention. If the blue alien heard him, he ignored him. "Hey, barkeep," he finally hollered down the bar. The barkeeper looked up at him and then resumed his conversation with the purple beings.

"Cha'nas," Shayera muttered. She got off the stool and energized her mace. Stewart stepped off his stool, but didn't follow, instead watching as she went to the end of the bar and said something to the barkeeper. She pointed her mace at him and then returned to her seat, clipping her mace to her belt. The barkeeper looked at the three and then moved toward them.

Mason looked at Shayera. "What'd you say?"

"Nothing," Shayera answered as she sat down. "I simply told him that if he didn't bring us the soup and three flurbs within two minutes, you would kick his ass."

"What?' Mason stammered.

"Welcome to my world, bud," Stewart said.

The barkeeper growled at Mason as he set three tankards of flurb in front of Shayera and a bowl of something thick and green in front of Mason. He looked at the bowl and frowned. "Can I get something that someone didn't already try to eat?" he asked.

Shayera grinned and set a flurb in front of Mason. She slid the other one to Stewart who shook his head and slid it back to Shayera. Shayera drank a gulp of her flurb and belched loudly. Mason's eyes widened and Stewart smiled in amusement.

She looked at Mason and said, pointing to the soup, "It's best if you chug it down without trying to taste it."

Mason nodded. He picked up the bowl, brought it to his lips and took a big swig of soup. Within two seconds, he had spit the soup out, just missing the bartender, but not much else behind the bar counter.

Shayera shook her head. "Told you not to taste it. Here." She gave him the tankard of flurb. Stewart suppressed a laugh.

Mason grabbed the tankard and quickly downed a big gulp of the flurb. Then he turned and spit it out behind him. Unfortunately, he didn't miss the four Rossians sitting at the table. If Mason had any idea of what he had done, he didn't signal it.

Stewart and Shayera looked at the wet Rossians, then at each other, and then they turned their backs to the standing Rossians who were now wiping the flurb off of themselves. Stewart made eye contact with Shayera in the mirror behind the bar and then watched in the mirror as the Rossians talked among themselves.

"What is this mess? Mason exclaimed. He smacked his lips together trying to get rid of the taste of the brew. "Man, that was worse than the soup. On second thought, no it isn't, and now I can't get the taste of either out my mouth. God! Kill me now."

Stewart leaned forward and said in a low voice, "I don't know about God, but the people you spit on don't look happy and I think they want to take you up on your offer. Let's go."

Mason kept smacking his lips together. He turned to Shayera. "Did you finish your drink yet?"

"Not yet," she answered. Oh crap. She's smiling. Don't do this, woman.

"What's wrong with you two?" Stewart said, exasperated. "Mace, listen to me! On Earth, humans are on top of the food chain. Out here, you're just food."

Mason shook his head. "John, I got that. But my fellow soldier here isn't finished with her drink. And I've never been run out of any bar yet and I'm not starting today."

Fellow soldier? Where'd that crap come from? He must have swallowed some of that flurb.

Shayera continued to look straight ahead into the mirror and reaching down, energized her mace. "John's right. We got what we came for. We should go. Now!"

"Only if you're finished with your drink," Mason answered. Before Shayera could respond, one of the Rossians tapped Mason on the shoulder. "You spit all over me," the Rossian said in Basic in a low voice. Mason stared at him with a quizzical smile, not understanding a word.

Shayera looked at Stewart in the mirror. "You are noting that I didn't start this, right?"

"The evening's still young," Stewart answered, turning to face the Rossian closest to Mason.

He'd noticed that all four of the Rossians were standing behind them now. Stewart looked at the two men standing behind Mason and said, "Look, my friend got sick. He didn't know you were there. Why don't you let us buy you a drink and we'll call it square, okay?"

The man standing behind Stewart tapped one of the Rossians behind Mason on the shoulder. "Look," he said. "He's apologizing for his ugly friend. You should make him buy us drinks then we'll teach his friend a lesson."

Shayera cleared her throat, but continued to stare straight ahead. "Did you just call my friend ugly?"

The Rossian standing behind Shayera answered, "Yeah. All of you are ugly. You just happen to have a mask to hide how ugly you really are. After your boyfriends learn not to spit on Rossians, maybe the four of us will take off that helmet so we can see just how ugly a Thanagarian is."

The other Rossian behind Mason added, "Yeah. Give me a chance to see if some of the things I heard about Thanagarian women are true."

Stewart took a deep breath, stepped off his stool and replied, "You shouldn't have said that."

One of the Rossians stuck his finger in Stewart's face. "You gonna make something out of it, runt?"

Stewart flashed a quick glance into the mirror, making momentary eye contact with Shayera again, and then shook his head. "Nope," he said quickly. "But I think she will."

Shayera pivoted on her stool, leaped in the air and hit the man behind Mason with her mace. Stewart picked up his stool and used it to smack the Rossian who'd been standing behind Shayera, sending him tumbling into a table. Mason punched the man beside Stewart with an iron fist and launched him across the room. Stewart whacked the Rossian that Shayera had just hit with her mace with the now broken bar stool. The other Rossian behind Mason leaped at Stewart, only to be met in mid-air with Shayera's fist. The barkeeper hopped over the counter and onto Mason, who shot a portion of his body out, shoving the surprised bartender into the near wall.

Mason called out to Shayera, "I think I'm ready to go now. You still got your sauce?"

Shayera twirled in the air and maced one of the purple-skinned people who'd joined the ruckus when the barkeeper did. "Yup!" she shouted. "John, you ready to go now?'

Stewart punched one of the purple people and shouted back, "On three, out and go right!" He paused for a half-second as he slammed another bar stool into the legs of one of the Rossians. "One-two-three."

Stewart formed a giant wall with his ring and pushed everything and everyone in the room into the far corner. Then Mason, Shayera and Stewart ran out of the bar and turned right. Stewart ringed a bubble around them and carried them to the rooftop behind the bar. They watched from the roof as a few moments later, six people ran out of the bar and down the street looking for them.

Mason slapped his side. "Man, that was so much like the old days."

Shayera also smiled. "It was fun."

They both looked at Stewart. He smiled tightly and nodded. "We'd better go."

He ringed a bubble around them and they took off skyward.

They all were silent for a few moments before Mason said, "You know what? We ought to do this again next year."

Shayera smirked. "It might take them that long to forget we were here."

Stewart shook his head. "You two are crazy. I'm not coming back here next year just to get killed." He paused and then flashed a quick smile. "Maybe in two years. They'll have forgotten us by then."

Shayera turned to Mason and laughed. "Like Freeport?"

Mason nodded, "Like Freeport."

Stewart said nothing out loud as the bubble picked up speed, but inwardly he chuckled.

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Chapter Three

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"Everyone thinks of changing the world, but not one thinks of changing himself." - Tolstoy

(The Watchtower cafeteria)

It was a medium-sized crowd in the cafeteria when they returned. Shayera, Mason and Stewart sat at a table in the corner. Stewart attempted to suppress the grin on his face; Shayera didn't even try. She'd set her helmet on the table. Her hair was still rolled up and Stewart thought she'd probably look nice if she ever decided to wear her hair short.

Mason had ordered a cheeseburger with fries and had sprinkled a little of the pepper sauce on his meal. The smile would not leave his face. "Oh man, this is good," Mason whispered. He smacked his lips together and looked at Stewart. "Like some of the guys in the platoon use to say, I feel a case of the full belly coming up. This is good stuff."

"Told you," Shayera said. She looked pleased. "This is the way food should taste."

Mason nodded. "This was so worth it. Best chow run I've ever been on." He cast his eyes around the room, then back at Stewart. "This has got to be our secret. This is more valuable than the McDonald's secret sauce. "

Stewart nodded. This definitely needs to be a secret. Mari will have a cow if she thinks I had fun doing something with Shayera. He gave a weak grin. "Yeah, we'll keep this little field trip a secret. Can't have the world knowing Leaguers got into a bar fight someplace." He shook his head. "Would look bad."

Shayera smirked. "Oh, I agree. No telling how long some of us would be in the dog house."

Stewart frowned.

"I meant with the Lanterns, John," she said with a wicked grin. Yeah. Right.

"Wait a minute," Mason said. He put his burger back on his plate. "How can this make whatever you'd eat and what I'd eat taste so good? Let's just say after tasting that wormy drink, I know we don't think the same things taste good. So what is this stuff?"

Shayera smiled. "The sauce works on the tongue and changes your memory of what food should taste like. If you thought that a burger should like an orange, after a few bites, it would taste like an orange. It makes food taste like what you think it should."

She leaned forward. "As for what it is? Well, let me say this: there was plenty of Cafvan pepper sauce at the bottom of that barrel where you picked up the Hilayrean oyster."

She stood as Mason's and Stewart's eyes got big.

"Bottom of the barrel?" Mason stammered. "You mean this is oyster -"

Shayera put her finger to her lips and said, "Shhhh. Never think about what it is or your food will taste like it."

Mason shoved his plate forward and grimaced.

Shayera shook her head. "Remember, think 'best hamburger you ever ate.' That's what you thought a moment ago. It still is."

Mason pick up a sauce-covered fry, closed his eyes, and shoved it in his mouth. The smile returned. "Whatever I think it is," he parroted.

Shayera placed a bottle of the pepper sauce in front of him as she picked up her helmet. "Here. This is for you."

Mason's eyes lit up as he seized the bottle.

"For taking on a couple of Rossians," Shayera continued, "you deserve this. Thanks for a fun time and covering my back." Her smile broadened and she shook her head. "And thanks for Freeport. Good night." Stewart watched her walk out, and slowly shook his head.

"She's good people, you know." Mason said, interrupting Stewart's thoughts.

"I know."

"Then why do you allow those guys to treat her like ... like the village call girl?"

"What?" Confusion was quickly replaced by anger. "You have five seconds to explain yourself before I forget you're my friend and deck you."

Mason pulled his plate forward and picked up his sandwich again. He looked Stewart in the face. "You're not stupid. You had to have heard the rumors that she's a mattress for any one of you six who wants to sleep with her. That it was the only way she could get back into the League and keep her status as one of you guys."

Stewart slammed the table. "That's a damn lie!" The chatter in the lunch room stopped. They're looking and I don't give a damn.

Mason shook his head and put his sandwich down. "It's not a lie until one of you guys starts calling it that," he said softly.

The chatter in the cafeteria started up again. "I didn't believe it before and I don't believe it now," Mason continued. "But I'm telling you, man, everyday she bleeds a little more from the cutting remarks around here. Even I can see that, and I don't hang out with her. And you guys aren't doing a damn thing to stop the bloodletting, to salvage her rep."

The frown on Stewart's face deepened. "You know good and well, you never respond to rumors. Response gives them credence."

Mason shoved a couple of fries in his mouth. "Maybe. But I'm telling you, people are saying it must be true because none of the Big Six have said otherwise, even when they've been right there. So the rumors have plenty of credence already. That's how human nature works. You know that. She deserves better than she's getting from you guys. If she was a Marine you wouldn't let anyone trash her rep the way they do around here. Marines don't let others -"

"Stop," Stewart snapped. "Don't give me any of that Marines protect their own stuff. I'm not in the Marine Corps anymore, neither are you, and she never was."

Mason shook his head. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I've gone too far. You know, before today, I wouldn't have given you a rat's ass for how you seven treat each other. But today, we traveled a billion miles to some tiny dust ball in the galaxy to get three small bottles of oyster crap just because one of us said, 'let's go.' We had a rock scream at us, got in a bar fight with people who should have killed us all outright and still managed to bring home the three bottles and ourselves in one piece."

Mason paused. "Sounds like a Marine thing to me. She can be a member of my tribe anytime, even if she's not a member of yours."

Stewart glared at Mason for a long moment, then stood and took a fry from Mason's tray. He put the fry in his mouth, turned and walked away.

"Later," he called out behind him.

Fire was laughing. Plastic Man was in rare form as he regaled Beatriz with stories about his ability to form and stretch his body into different shapes.

"Is there anything you can't stretch into?" Beatriz asked as she took another bite of her pasta.

Plas grinned. "Well, I can pretty much turn into anything." He paused then added with a smirk, "I'd show you my bedframe impression, but the feather mattress already left the room."

Beatriz started to laugh, then quickly frowned and lowered her head.

"What did you just say, stretchy?" a low voice asked him from behind.

Plas turned and looked into the face of the Green Lantern. Damn, he looks pissed.

Plas shook his head. "Nothing. Just funning, you know." His voice cracked. Damn. He put his hands on the table. Beatriz kept her head lowered, staring into her pasta.

"The next time you've got 'nothing' to say about Shayera, say it to her face. When she's finished, I'll make sure we bury what's left next to the last guy who did the same. And if I or any of the rest of the seven of us hear one more rumor about Shayera, we're going to stop assuming you're too stupid to know better and start re-educating you. You got my drift?" The Green Lantern looked around the cafeteria at the other members who were looking at him towering over Plas. "That goes for any of you," Lantern said. Then he stormed out of the lunchroom.

The room was quiet for a moment before the chatter returned.

Plas had suddenly lost his appetite. "What got into him?" he asked Beatriz, who stood to put her tray away.

"A little esprit de corps," Metamorpho said as he walked by. "It's a tribe thing."

END