Don't own Justice League. Never did, never will. Post-Doomsday Sanction. Figured while Flash was all angry-like at Question in Onions and Cakes, there'd be a slightly more 'reasonable' moment without the stress on poor ol' Flash. Except he still stresses out here. Damn it. I never win.
All the Matters Aside from Heroism
by Alba Aulbath
So it had been a pleasant Friday afternoon, about 12:37 EST, and there was a quaint little set-up in Keystone, outdoor cafe that was pleasant and served pretty damned good grilled salmon. It was quite possibly the salmon that convinced him to go, Wally was sure. You just don't ask such a paranoid guy to go out for lunch sometime just for the hell of it, since he was probably waiting for an ulterior motive.
What he did not expect was a man with a face. Wally was not so concerned with showing his civilian self, as the detective had already known who he was and probably who Batman was and who the Pope was because hell if Wally knew that.
Dressed like the Question, but didn't look like him, because it was a man with red hair, a face, blue eyes, and he was wearing gray instead of blue.
"Uh," was Wally's wonderful greeting.
"Vic Sage," he corrected.
"Oh." Wally still had a blank expression on his face, utterly shocked. "So... um..."
Taking off his hat, Vic shrugged, not explaining himself. When a waitress attempted to pass them by, he snagged her by the elbow and informed her, "Tea. Milk. Two sugars. Grilled salmon."
So it was the salmon. Wally did not hide The Smirk.
Letting her go, Vic looked at him plainly, as if he was still wearing a face that was faceless. "Not going to ask?"
"I kinda figure you might have a reason, but, uh... I haven't figured it out what it is yet." Wally grinned sheepishly. "Since it totally doesn't make sense to me."
"Maybe I'm trying to understand your way of thinking." Wally had no idea if Vic was saying that sarcastically or not, though he was willing to bet he had more of a sense of a humor than Bruce.
"Right, uh..." Wally had received an ice mocha, with which he was pleased, but had started to grab the packets of sugar to put in. He didn't need the funny look from saying 'so can I have forty sugars to go with that please'.
"Can't talk to J'onn, I figure?"
Wally squinted at him. "What?"
"There's something on your mind. And you don't want to talk to the Martian."
"Well..." Wally considered, and was glad they were at an establishment where people weren't very bloody likely to eavesdrop on your conversation. Tilting his head and stirring in the sugar, he sighed. "Yeahwellmaybe. I dunno. Not J'onn or John or any 'J' man, you know?"
"Not any of the original seven."
Wally frowned. "What, you a psychic?"
"No. You're just relatively easy to comprehend." Vic shrugged. "They're your closest friends, but there's something you can't talk to them about. So you turn to someone else. Though I'd have figured you'd talk to the Creeper before you'd think of me."
"Well, it's just..." Wally wasn't really sure how to word it. "...You know, they're kindasortastarting to scare me."
The detective did not reply, or touch his tea when it arrived. He merely sat and waited, as if to say 'go on' to the young speedster, who in turn sighed and wondered why he didn't try Red Tornado before this kook.
"With Scott an' Barda an' then the Doomsday thing and probably stuff way before that." Wally frowned. "J'onn didn't wanna get involved with Scott's problem with that freaky Granny woman that was a girl, I hope and I just didn't get it. We're supposed to help people, right? But it was 'no, we can't, only for the greater good' and stuff. I don't get it. And then Supes zapped Doomsday into that Zone thingy and... jeez, are we doing the right thing, Vic?"
"What do you consider right?"
Wally tried really hard not to grit his teeth. "What's your damned opinion?"
There was considering on Vic's face, and Wally realized it was the first emotion he'd ever seen on his face, and was mildly impressed by it. Eventually, the detective responded, "We do what's necessary. We're available to countries and each other now, when it's needed. People might not consider it right. I think it's necessary. Though there does come with decisions to make, the League might forget that we're there to help, not govern. Just remind them, like you always do."
"J'onn came to help after you helped Scott."
Wally did remember that. But
"Be their conscience. Everyone else is either too busy feeling sorry for themself, brooding, or forgetting to keep a check on themselves and the power they possess." Vic raised a brow. "Does that help?"
"Yeah I guess." Wally sighed.
Lunch came. Whether or not Vic enjoyed it was unknown, since he hardly expressed pleasure. Mostly just 'oh that's interesting' or being smug in his own way somehow. Somehow managed to keep a hair away from being a jerk, Wally figured. That, and he was tolerent to most folks.
"...So I still gotta wonder. Why here as 'Vic'?"
Again, there was that consideration. Vic then shrugged. "Thought I'd give it a shot at this 'trust' thing you're so into," he told him drily.
"Uh. Thanks?" Wally wasn't sure how to take that. He reached for his wallet, but found Vic grabbing his wrist, somehow fast enough to catch him.
"...It's on me," Vic decided in a rather 'and that is FINAL' tone. Possibly without meaning to be; wasn't the most social sort of person, after all.
Vic looked satisfied and paid the check, then looked as though he was thinking of something again before speaking. "Next Friday?"
"What?" Wally didn't quite catch that.
"Next Friday. Lunch."
"Oh." Pause. "Sure."
Wally was positive he saw a pleased look on Vic's face before he left the cafe.