Justice League United Book 1

Notes: This story happens in a world where the television show Smallville and the movies The Green Lantern, Batman Begins, and The Dark Knight are canon. This leads to some problems, such as Apokolips nearly crashing into earth and the Vigilante Registration act not being mentioned in The Green Lantern and the problems in Gotham not being mentioned in Smallville. If you have not watched this show and these movies, you could be confused at some of the references and the blank spots between sections of the story. Also, my Wonder Woman is loosely based on the failed TV show. The dates will also be somewhat different as I will be going by Smallville time, and in my story The Dark Knight happens about a year before Season 10 of Smallville begins, and The Green Lantern happens about a year after Season 10 ends. (The Dark Knight Rises is ignored here, as the events in that movie would not happen for some years.)
P.S. I do not own any of these characters. All characters are owned by DC Comics and the makers of the respective movies/television show.

"You're not alone, Clark Kent. In all my globe-trotting, I met several others like you - a billionaire with high-tech toys and a wonderous woman who's gonna throw you for a loop." -Chloe Sullivan

August 2010

There was a knock on his door. "Master Bruce," came the familiar call from his loyal butler Alfred. "Someone is here to see you."
"I told you, Alfred. I don't want to see anyone," groaned Bruce.
"You're never going to get anything done if you stay cooped up in here," Alfred proclaimed as he slipped open the door and walked in. "She was quite insistent. And quite lovely."
"Alfred..."
"I'm just looking out for you Master Bruce," said Alfred. "You've got to have to get over Rachel eventually Master Bruce. You need to live your life, not waste it away sitting in this room."
Bruce looked at his loyal butler, still trying to get him back into the world. Alfred was old. Not just getting on in years, but old. He'd been "getting on in years" when Bruce was just a boy. Alfred's kind face was lined with wrinkles, and the little hair he had left was white as fresh snow. But despite his age, Alfred had always had a sort of solidity, as if he would still be there long after Bruce himself had past away. He knew Alfred was just trying to help, but he simply didn't seem to understand, no matter how many times he explained it. "I can't get over her Alfred. She was ready for us to start a life together. There is no one else out there for me. Please tell her that I can't see her right now."
"I don't think it will be that easy," said a distinctly female voice from the other side of the room.
"I don't enjoy complete strangers sneaking into my private chambers and invading my privacy," he said, turning around.
"I'm well aware that me coming in here has upset your ego and now you need to act threatening to appease it," she said, stepping into the light. "I've known my fair share of billionaires. I know all about your egos."
Alfred chuckled. "She's got a point there Master Bruce."
"Shut up Alfred," muttered Bruce. "Now, if you would please leave us, my butler and I have some important things to discuss."
"I'm not finished," she stated firmly.
Bruce looked her over, wondering who this mysterious woman was. She looked ordinary enough, with a short, almost pixie haircut with her blonde hair, peach skin, and blue-green eyes. She was fairly attractive, with a young-looking face, which contrasted with her eyes, which revealed either a much older age, or harsh circumstances. She wore business casual, with a expensive-looking pencil skirt, blouse, and dress jacket. Over all, she had the appearance of a business woman who had climbed her way to the top despite her good looks rather than because of them.
"My name is Chloe Sullivan, a former reporter from the daily planet, though these days I'm known as Watchtower. I know who you really are. I know the truth, Batman."
"Batman?" asked Bruce, shocked. "I may be many things, but I am not the man who killed Harvey Dent."
"I never said you were," she said with a smile. "I said you were Batman. I also said that I know the truth. I know that the Batman did not kill Harvey Dent. I know someone who was able to tell me something about what happened. It wasn't much, but it was enough for me to find out the truth."
"That's very sweet of you," assured Bruce. "But I am not the Batman."
"Please," Chloe laughed. "I'm just surprised that I was the first one to figure it out. You go into hiding just after Batman hangs up his cape? Way obvious."
"She's got a point there, Master Bruce," came the not so helpful comment from Alfred.
"Look at yourself!" she exclaimed. "You used to be Gotham's most eligible bachelor, and the Batman! Now you sit here all day doing nothing. This city needs Bruce Wayne. And more importantly, this city needs the Batman. If you're willing to climb out of your hole, come to this fundraiser tonight." She handed him a flyer for some fundraiser/ball, raising money to build schools in India. "See you there." She walked out of the room, vanishing from sight.
Bruce looked at himself in the mirror. She was right, he looked terrible. Dressed in a bathrobe, his face was haggard and unshaven. He leaned on a cane, the after-affects of his experiences as Batman. He needed to get cleaned up and back into shape. "Alfred," he said, "dust for fingerprints and search all databases for the names Chloe Sullivan and Watchtower."
"And what will you be doing in the meantime?" asked Alfred.
"Getting ready for a party."

The doors of the fancy black sports car opened, revealing Bruce Wayne, now shaven and dressed up, though still leaning on a cane. It took the reporters and photographers a few seconds to realise who it was, but as soon as they did, the shout went up, "It's Bruce Wayne!" "Mister Wayne!" Cameras flashed as he walked into the ornate building. As he went into the ballroom he was greeted by old friends, acquaintances, rivals, business parters, and complete strangers. He was at the drinks when Chloe came up to him. She had changed into a startling blue evening gown with a swooping neckline, her short hair was gathered into a bun, and she wore a diamond necklace and earrings.
"Gifts from your billionaire friend?" asked Bruce as she walked up to him.
"I'm glad you decided to get out of that stuffy mansion of yours," she said, evading the question.
"I guess I just needed a kick in the rear to get me going again," responded Bruce.
"Well, when you're ready to get back into the game, call this number," she said, handing him a card for "Clark Kent, Daily Planet".
"Don't worry," she said, "He's one of us. A hero. He can get you connected to others."
"A superhero masquerading as a reporter," laughed Bruce. "How original. You know, I did a search for the name Chloe Sullivan on all my databases and found nothing. I even looked you up on every government database, nothing. Chloe Sullivan doesn't exist. So then I checked the fingerprints you left on a counter. Also nothing. Your fingerprints don't match anything in the government database. According to the government, you don't exist."
"What's the point of going off the grid if anyone can just check my fingerprints or look up my name and find out who I am?" Chloe asked. "It's so much easier if you don't exist."
"Of course," he muttered.
"Remember," she said, walking away. "The world needs heroes like you." And with that, she vanished into the crowd.