Author's Notes:

I do not own Justice League (International or otherwise) or any of the characters. (I wish I did, because the first thing I'd do would be to start a JLI TV show. But not a crappy one like that bootleg video with the overweight Martian Manhunter and that weird Kyle/Guy/Hal amalgam. A GOOD TV show.) This story is only for entertainment, not profit.

Anyway . . . This takes place a couple years before Morning Flakes. The Justice League has just gone international, hoorah! ^_^ I might change the title later if I think of something better.

(BTW, if you enjoy the JLI gang, be sure to pick up the Formerly Known as the Justice League mini-series coming out this summer (beginning July 2, 2003)! Booster, Beetle, Captain Atom--all the old familiar faces! Bwahaha!)

Maxwell Lord was a businessman, a millionaire, and an entrepreneur, but above all he was a genius. He knew it, and sooner or later everyone else would acknowledge the fact too. After all, it surely took a giant intellect to forge together the first United Nations sponsored superteam. He stood proudly at the head of the conference table in his dapper three-piece and beamed at the World's Greatest Superheroes.

The World's Greatest Superheroes stared wanly back, characterized by a sort of martyred exhaustion. Booster Gold's eyes were unfocused as he drummed his fingers on the table and fought back a yawn, while beside him the Blue Beetle's head nodded sleepily over a cup of coffee. Black Canary wore a what-is-it-NOW expression over her crossed arms. Guy Gardner (current Green Lantern of Earth) had constructed a green hand with his power ring and sent it around the table, where it was currently making "bunny ears" behind Captain Atom's head. (This was at least an improvement over the last meeting, where Guy had instead used such a construct to smack Black Canary's derriere.) Captain Atom himself, a new member, looked as though he would rather be anywhere else as he sat ramrod straight, industriously ignoring Guy.

The other newbie, Rocket Red #4, perched awkwardly on the edge of his chair, which was not really big enough to accommodate his red and white power armor with the hammer and sickle emblazoned on it. (At least everyone assumed it was "his" armor; what with the bulkiness of the robotic exo-skeleton, the opaque red visor, and the fact that the others had never seen him--her--it--out of the armor, there was really no telling. The fact that he--or she--apparently didn't speak English did not help.)

Next to the Russian, Mister Miracle, escape artist extraordinaire, was busy trying to untangle his extensive green cape from around the leg of the table. By rights, the chair on the other side of him should have been occupied by Batman, but the Bat had refused to sit down at all and was instead crouched in the corner, brooding in the half-hearted shadows provided by the potted palms. Until recently, Batman had led the group of heroes, but he had recently passed the responsibility to J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter. J'onn, who had many years ago taken the tragic destruction of his race in stride, wore a constant grimace these days, as though suffering from a permanent headache. His only comfort was drowning his sorrows in Double-Stuff Oreos, like the Giant-sized bag he was currently clutching.

Maxwell Lord's smile slipped a bit as he surveyed the group, but he reminded himself that people are rarely at their best in the early morning. "So," he said, "this is a very exciting time for us indeed, am I right?"

There were a few half-hearted nods of consent.

"Am I right?" he repeated, this time a little more forcibly.

"Yes, Max," everyone except Batman mumbled. ("Hn," Batman said.)

"Of course I'm right!" Maxwell Lord agreed enthusiastically. "This weekend the UN will perform their first official inspection of their vaunted superteam--Justice League International!"

If Max was expecting applause, he was destined for disappointment. Batman grunted. Captain Atom sighed. Blue Beetle finally nodded off and flopped face forward on the table.

"Ah . . . yes. Very exciting. Booster, wake up Beetle, would you? Guy, stop that." (Guy Gardner's ring construct had begun making rude gestures.)

"Okay, inspection this weekend, got it. We promise to play nice, et cetera. Can we go now?" Black Canary asked, raising a delicately plucked eyebrow as she pushed her chair back with a scrape.

"Canary, sit back down. As long as we're all here, I have some other little matters I want to bring up--" As he pulled out a list written in his neat loops of cursive, a collective groan ran around the table. In the corner, Batman was aiming his best Bat-glare at Max.

"Ma-aaax!" Booster Gold whined, pausing in his attempts to shake Blue Beetle awake. "Come ON, let us out of here! It's five AM!"

Max smiled. "That's right. And do you know WHY we're meeting at five AM? It's because that's the only time I could book the conference room here. And do you know why we have to mooch a conference room off someone else instead of meeting in our own headquarters? It's because our conference room is on the top floor of JLI HQ . . . which NO LONGER HAS A ROOF!!!" The heroes leaned away from him, wide-eyed, as Max forced his hands to unclench. The millionaire took a deep breath and continued. "And that leads neatly to the first subject on the agenda. Item One! WE DO NOT LAND THE JLI SHUTTLECRAFT ON THE ROOF. Any objections?"

The various metahumans and vigilantes shifted in their seats. The escape artist muttered something from behind his yellow and red mask.

"Mister Miracle? Do you have an objection?"

"I . . . no, I was just saying--"

"Because it looks to me like you have an objection."

Miracle threw his hands in the air. "All superteams land their shuttles on the roof! How was I supposed to know we had woodrot?"

"Perhaps we should just move on," J'onn suggested as Mister Miracle slid lower in his chair, crossing his arms.

"Right . . . Item Two--"

"You do not talk about Fight Club!" Booster Gold said. The joke would have been appreciated any time after 1999. As it was only 1987, everyone stared blankly at the time traveller.

"If you're done . . ." Max said, miffed. He himself had hand-picked Booster for the League, but everyone made mistakes. "Item Two! WE DO NOT PLAY WITH LOOSE WIRES IF WE THINK THEY MIGHT SHORT CIRCUIT THE SECURITY SYSTEM." He looked pointedly at Captain Atom, whose silver face immediately tarnished in embarrassment.

"I thought it would activate the security system," he said defensively. "I was just trying to help."

"Next time 'help' in a way that doesn't require me to reprogram the security protocols for eight hours," Mister Miracle said crossly.

"Item Three--is Blue Beetle awake? Good.--Item Three! We do NOT invite strangers, no matter how attractive, into Justice League headquarters without permission from J'onn! Batman! Or myself!" Mr. Lord ticked off the appropriate authority figures on his fingers. "We DEFINITELY do not invite them in if the security system is down, ESPECIALLY if they resemble KNOWN CRIMINALS!"

"Oh right, like every scantily clad woman with green skin and red hair is going to be Poison Ivy . . ."

"I think he's prejudiced against green people, Booster."

"I think you're absolutely right, Beetle. J'onn's lucky he made it through the glass ceiling."

"Well, he can turn intangible . . . "

"Ha. Ha ha ha. Am I getting through to you clowns?" Max demanded.

"You know . . ." Beetle paused to yawn. "This sort of thing wouldn't happen if Batman would keep his rogues to himself . . ."

"Hn."

"Hey Booster, quick, who am I? 'Hnn. Grr. I am vengeance, I am the night, I am the victim of poor socialization--"

"Ooooo, check out that glare--if looks could kill . . ."

"Item Four--" Max raised his voice. "If we happen to own, say, a POWER RING, we will use it with discretion. For example: Using it to catch criminals--YES. Using it in ways that will inspire sexual harassment lawsuits--NO."

"Hear, hear!" Black Canary glared at Guy.

"What's th' matter, babe? Am I too much man for you?"

"Guy, if you were even 'enough man' for me, you wouldn't have to use your power ring to overcompensate for your tiny--"

"Item FIVE--" Max interrupted.

"Item Five . . . We will not buy decaff . . . ever . . . again . . ." Beetle muttered as his eyes fluttered closed.

"--We will not drain the entire petty cash fund for non-essentials."

"An excellent suggestion, Max," J'onn said, smiling gently.

Max looked at him. "Like oreos."

The Martian's smile faltered. "Oreos . . . non-essential? But . . . but . . ."

"J'onn--"

The Manhunter fished a handful of the cookies out of the Giant-Sized bag. "You see their graceful, scalloped edges? The beautiful contrast of the chocolate wafer and the creamy white center?"

"J'onn, I'm not saying you can't eat oreos, I'm just asking you to cut back. You eat three bags a day, for God's sake!"

"I need three bags a day," the Martian said, compulsively stuffing the oreos into his mouth as he clutched the bag of cookies close to his chest.

Unexpectedly, Batman spoke up. "The Manhunter is going to be leading this crew day in and day out. Let him have the oreos, Max."

"Okay . . . okay . . ." Max threw his hands in the air, causing the papers he was holding to flutter. "Scratch Item Five! Item Six--"

"How many items are there?" Canary sighed.

"This is the last one. Item Six! We will be on our BEST BEHAVIOR for the UN! We will remember that our FUNDING depends on the UN! We will be polite--ALL of us--" he glared at Guy, who sniffed and crossed his arms, "--and we will be sociable and we will NOT use this as an opportunity to tie the inspectors' shoelaces together or pull some other juvenile stunt."

"Shoelaces are for amateurs," Booster Gold said. He looked to Beetle for confirmation, but the bug-themed vigilante was fast asleep again, with his face squooshed against the smooth finish of the table.

"Okay, that's it. Meeting adjourned."

There was a brief silence, then the heroes slowly got up, stretching, and filtered out (after waking Blue Beetle.)

Maxwell Lord IV watched them leave, some flying away, some swooping into the shadows, and at least one piloting a bug-shaped airship, and he smiled. It was a strained smile, but a smile nonetheless. The World's Greatest Superheroes. With a little guidance--okay, a lot of guidance--okay, massive amounts of guidance--he was sure they could do anything, truly achieve heights man had only dreamed of before!

Suddenly a small frown creased his forehead. "Shoot, I forgot to tell them about Item Seven," he muttered. "We will always replace the roll of toilet paper when it runs out."