Past, Present, and What the Hell?

Apologies first of all for the stupid title. I had this idea for a while. It's inspired by Urusei Yatsura, which is a constant source of zany amusement for me. I also may have borrowed elements of Yotsuba! Read both if you can, they rock!

I don't own the Justice League, but I do own the stuff I made up. Touch it and I sue! (Just kidding.)


The day was sunny and clear, and many a person had taken themselves to the beach for the day. Of course, this didn't matter on the planet Corgina in the seventy-second quadrant, since the planet had no sun. It had seven close stars that warmed the surface of the planet. There were no nice days on Corgina.

Rgat Termi, son of the esteemed Glocker Termi, was reading a newspaper. Corgina was so far away from other planets that it took a long time for the residents to get the news. That's why the newspaper Rgat was reading was a year old. It had the details of the Thanagarian invasion of Earth. The headline read "Thanagar invasion plot foiled at last minute."

Just under it, a picture of Shayera Hol was accompanied by the title "Traitor's wedding may be called off."

Rgat crumpled up the paper with fury. "That bitch!" he hissed.


Meanwhile, at the Watchtower, Shayera was acting rather strange. Kind of nervous. And she was sneezing an awful lot.

"You know," said Supergirl, handing her a tissue, "if you sneeze more than three times in a row, someone must be talking about you."

"Great," Shayera muttered. "Just when I was starting to think everyone had stopped talking about me."

She sneezed again, and massaged her temple with her fingers. It just wasn't natural to sneeze thirty times in less than an hour.

"Maybe you should lie down," Supergirl said sympathetically. "You could have bird flu or something."

Shayera attempted to glare at her for the poor taste joke, but her head was pounding too much. She went to her room to lie down, sneezing five times on the way there. Once inside, sprawled across the bed, she found she just couldn't relax. She had a strange feeling something terrible was going to happen. With a long-suffering sigh, she did something she hadn't done since she was five.

She hid under the bed.


Meanwhile, in the monitor womb, J'onn Jonze was watching the approach of the strangest looking spaceship he'd ever seen. It looked like a hollowed-out turnip with a top hat and it was so small it was hard to imagine anyone could fit inside. But J'onn was nothing if not composed, and he watched the ship's approach impassively.

There was a beep on the radar, and he left the screen to check it out. It displayed the approach of several other foreign bodies, crowding the little green screen like a hive of ants.

J'onn arched an eyebrow.


John Stewart was thinking a lot about dogs lately.

On his last mission, he had had his leg thoroughly humped by the seeing-eye dog of the blind girl he had rescued on his last mission. Then the news had announced that the dog who had played Goldie in his favourite sitcom "Born into Splendour" had died. And then Vixen had complained all about how heiress Maxie Jerkin's tiny Pomeranian had pooped on the red carpet at some black-tie thing she'd been at and she'd stepped in it while wearing a ridiculously expensive pair of shoes.

All of this made him think of Lucifer.

Back in the days when John Stewart the Green Lantern had been known as Johnny Stewart from room 237 in building F, an old lady down the road owned a rather large, rather vicious dog. Its name was Lucifer at it was something of a legend in the area. Bobby Cooper had heard that it wasn't a dog, but the result of a genetic splicing of a wolf and a baboon. Shelly Jones heard that it broke into the bedrooms of kids who borrowed stuff from their siblings without asking and ate them. Carlos Jimenez said it was the devil's own personal guard dog, exchanged for the old lady's soul.

Whatever it was, it was freaking scary.

John found himself musing on Lucifer now, well into his twenties and after a lifetime of facing down aliens that were far scarier than a fat rottweiler with a gammy leg. Strangely enough, he found his memories of the stupid dog entwined with more pleasant, abstract memories. Whenever he thought of Lucifer, his mind supplied him with images of the local park's swing set, a high granite wall, a box of blackcurrant juice and a piece of cloth coloured a vivid terracotta. Which was all kinda weird.

His phone beeped, heralding the arrival of a text message. He glanced at it and sighed. It was a long, rambling, utterly pointless text message from Mari. Something about a gauzy hemline and a credit card and seven o'clock. For all his guff about not wanting to be destiny's puppet and his future being in his own hands, John couldn't help feeling like his relationship was somewhat forced. Sure, Mari was a model and a damn good superhero and exceptionally beautiful, but did she have to be so godawful boring?

It wasn't really her fault, he supposed. Being a model meant shutting off some of your most primitive urges just to get through a day's work. But just once in a while, every now and then, he wanted to see a little spark from her. He couldn't even tempt a temper tantrum out of her. Not like Shayera. Now there was a woman who gave good anger…

He shook his head, much like a dog with a flea. And there it was, his inexplicable urge to compare his current girlfriend to his last girlfriend. It popped into his head every few minutes, much as he tried to ward it off. Even if it hadn't exactly lasted long, his fling with Shayera had been exciting. You never quite knew what would happen next.

Some garbled shouting caught his attention and he walked out onto the bridge, looking down at Superman, J'onn Jonze, Green Arrow and Vigilante argue with a strange-looking alien. It was lilac-coloured with red spots and a portly body, topped off with a head that looked like a diseased cabbage. It seemed to be quite upset. Some of the other League members were also watching curiously from the bridge.

Then Shayera arrived, being pulled by the arm by Supergirl and sneezing uncontrollably.

"Seriously, you have got to see this! It's so weird!" Supergirl giggled. Shayera sneezed in response.

Supergirl pointed at the alien, who was now vigorously shaking Vigilante by the collar. Then things got interesting. Shayera suddenly went white as a sheet, and then kind of…grey. All over, even her clothes lost colour. Supergirl looked perplexed and attempted to lay a hand on her shoulder, only to discover Shayera had fled, leaving behind a Shayera-shaped cloud. It fell apart as Supergirl waved her hand through the smoke. John watched this display with interest.

Yep, you never knew what was going to happen.


An hour later, three more irate aliens joined the first in the lobby, shouting angrily in their native languages.

Two hours later, there were twenty-three .

Three hours later, the number was fifty-seven.

By five o clock that evening, there was no telling how many there were. Someone had valiantly attempted to do a head count, but had to give up when it was discovered that some of them had more than one head, and others had no heads at all. They all yelled in a variety of languages, but for the ears of anyone just listening it sounded like they were just shouting the word "rabble" over and over again.

After another hour, order was restored. Superman attempted to ask the aliens what they wanted.

"Do any of you speak English?" he yelled over the sea of heads.

"YES!" they all yelled back.

"Okay…uh," Superman stuttered, not really knowing how to proceed. "So, what do you all want?"

"We want Hawkgirl!" yelled someone.

"Yes, Hawkgirl!" yelled another.

"Bring us Hawkgirl!" yelled another.

"Hawkgirl, Hawkgirl, Hawkgirl!" the crowd chanted in unison.

"Great. More bounty hunters. Let's just hand her over this time!" snarled Diana.

"I want a drink," called a lone voice from the crowd.

"Me too," agreed someone else.

"Drinks, drinks, drinks!" they all yelled together.

"Get them their drinks and get them out of here," whispered Batman, almost too low for anyone to hear.

"Shouldn't we get Shayera out here? Where is she anyway?"


Supergirl knocked on Shayera's door. No answer. She knocked again. Still no answer.

"Shayera? There's a whole bunch of aliens in the hall looking for you. What's the deal?" she asked. After about a moment, she got a somewhat muffled answer.

"Tell them I'm dead!"

Supergirl blinked. Why would Shayera want anyone to think she was dead?

"I can't tell them that!" she answered. "What do they want?"

"Never mind! Tell them I'm dead! Tell them I'm in a forbidden dimension or I morphed into pure energy or something! I don't care what you tell them, just don't tell them I'm here!"

Supergirl's eyes widened in delight, the kind of delight usually reserved for finding out that a rival has gained weight around the lower torso.

"Shayera… are they bounty hunters? I had no idea you were that famous!"

"No…they're worse."

Batman slunk out of the shadows just then like a nasty cloud of smog. Supergirl stepped out of his way nervously. He rapped quietly on the door and spoke in his trademark hushed voice.

"Come out of there right now and face the crowd," he growled. Like a mangy dog.

"I'd like to see you make me," she shouted back.

Batman cracked his knuckles.

Minutes later, he was dragging her down the corridor by her ankles as she tried desperately to grab onto something. Supergirl skipped along behind them.


"Rabble, rabble, rabble!"

The crowd had been rabbling for quite some time, and the noise was getting very annoying. Then they all fell silent as Batman dragged Shayera out to the bridge and stood her up in front of them. She stared, horrified, at the crowd. They stared right back.

"It's Hawkgirl!" shouted the tall blue alien in the far left corner.

"Yes, Hawkgirl!" agreed the six-eyed one in the middle that bore a remarkable resemblance to Wyclef Jean.

"Rabble, rabble, rabble, rabble…"

"Shut up!" Shayera shouted into the crowd. "None of you have any reason to be here! Just get lost!"

"That's not true!" a Klingon shouted back.

" I've been looking everywhere for you! You ran off before we could come to an agreement!" shrieked a Tuskan Raider.

"There was no agreement we could have reached. Now just get out of here! And that goes for the rest of you too!"

The aliens all cast furtive glances at each other, except of course for the ones that had no eyes. Then a familiar looking girl with orange hair, cat ears and an entirely inappropriate tiger-striped furry bikini waved at her.

"Hello dear!" she trilled. Hawkgirl groaned and massaged her temple with her fingers.

" Cheshire Cat, what are you doing here?" she asked, though she feared the answer.

"Well, I was just curious, dear. So which one of these fine men are you going to marry?"

Every League member in the building at the time stared incredulously at Shayera. Shayera prayed for a bolt of lightning to just strike her dead. And the crowd of aliens started to chant.

"Me! Me! Me! Me! Me!"