"Ya don't have to yell. I'm right behind you."

Shocked and shaking in her... boots, Cowgirl Jack turned around. "Oh, sorry. Your message said you were out, AGW."

"I AM out," he retorted, "and it's just Wednesday now."

"Just Wednesday? When did that happen?"

"At the convention, remember?"

"Ummm .... No."

"Well, just give it a few days. Either way, Nightwing's upstairs doing that glowing/meditating thing, 552's got writer's block, and Harpy's not due 'til around June 9th."

"Ok, well... Hey wait! How do YOU know when Harpy's due?"

Wednesday looked gravely into CJ's eyes. "We've all marked our calendars."

"Ok, well... Hey!"

"What has happened, my friends? Do we have a new mission." (young) Nightwing, aka Brian Alexander Ortiz, floated down the basement steps.

"Hey," Wednesday said, glad to see his friend no longer glowing... as much. "Thought you were meditating."

"I felt a disturbance in the force."

"Right . Well someone shake the cobwebs out of 552's head." The JLR's new leader glanced at her teammates. "We've got a new adventure."

"Great!" In truth Wednesday's feelings were mixed. He welcomed every adventure (and, of course, the promise of fame) but secretly wished the team had been given more time to recover from their last emprise. "I just hope it's local, though. After what happened to Dun-Like-Dinner's jet..." Wednesday trailed off while (young) Nightwing lowered his head in memory of their fallen transport.

"Why don't I remember any of this ?"

"Just give it a few weeks, Cowgirl" (young) Nightwing said with trademark calm. "Everything will tie together in time."

"Well, it better. If I'm gonna lead this team in Big City, I need to be up to date on these things."

"Worry not," Wednesday said, mocking Nightwing's trademark calm. "All good things in time." Ignoring (young)'s cold stare he added, "So I'd hate to be the one to bring this up again [see The Convention Adventure], but how the heck are we supposed to get anywhere? We have no transportation, remember?"

552 stomped down the basement steps, wiping dark grease from his arms with a dingy rag. "Don't worry guys--"



"Umm... and girl. I fixed the jet."

"What !?"

Narrator:
What?
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