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dinah lance

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This is a totally logical and sensible way to do things. Shut up.

The way is: Dinah has a whole list of cities and places she wants to visit, including all over the United States; California, Pennsylvania, even Kansas, as she hasn't yet thoroughly investigated Keystone City.

She's starting in Greece.

This is, she claimed, because it's her vacation and she's always wanted to vacation in Europe and soak up the Mediterranean sun. But it's really because she's much less worried and apprehensive about what she'll find on Themiscyra than, for example, Star City, California. She hasn't even decided what she wants to find, but she can handle not finding it better if she starts with the Amazons.

Zinda's gone off to look at Egypt, after dropping Dinah off at an abandoned airfield. For some reason island-hopping on her own in a tiny plane is easier than admitting to Lady Blackhawk she doesn't know exactly which island is which on this world. Also, it feels more like a vacation.

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"Or worse."

Dinah pulls the belt extra tight and stands.

"I'm Dinah Lance. Thanks for showing up when you did."

Wait, who? Indy looks at her, wondering why she's using a fake name - or if her parents really did call her. . . but she had just. . . nah.

"You're welcome," he says again. "Not that you needed me."

"No," she admits, "I didn't. but at least you can tell me if there's anything of importance in the bag."

She kicks the bag over to him and shakes the fourth guy awake.

"Hey, sleepy head."

Indy lets her get on with her kicking, and opens the bag.

His eyes get rather round.

Oh. My.

The looter wakes up and scowls into Dinah's face, spitting out a tooth.

"You'll pay for this, bitch."

Dinah rolls her eyes.

"really, that's the best line you've got? Do you know what this island is?"

"Well, that's polite," Indy says dryly, looking up from the treasures (and they really are treasures) to eye the man coldly.

"Watch your mouth or you'll lose a few more teeth."

Dinah smiles sweetly. "I'd listen to him," she says. "You think I'm bad, wait til he lays into you."

This is an implied lie: Dinah's easily the most dangerous person in the room, she judges.

"You know what's been happening in the rest of the world? And you're here looting old ruins? Why?"

If she is who she says she is, then yeah. She could whup Indy's ass.

Hold on, what?

Indy frowns at her. Either she's crazy (which he judges to be fairly likely, all things considered) or he's missed something being away from civilisation for a few days.

"Currency, lady," the man objects. "Paper's not worth anything any more. My paper's not worth anything anyway. I was gonna cash in on the gold. I wasn't gonna raise anything."

Dinah blinks. And turns back to Indy.

"In.. Dr. Jones? What was in the bag?"

"It's run-of-the-mill temple artefacts - but there's more than I've ever seen in one place. And gods - well, there aren't any. It's all goddesses."

She shakes his head, baffled.

"It just confirms everything. . . sorry, I'm rambling. Point is, it's all solid. If all they did was melt it down they'd have a small fortune - although they'd have destroyed priceless relics."

Glare.

"Of course it's all Goddesses," Dinah remarks. "Probably mostly Hera and Diana."

She looks back at the captive, but continues to address Indy.

"Nothing that can be used for some sort of summoning ritual?"

Someone must live a life where this stuff is unusual. Dinah sometimes envies them.

Indy frowns, and inspects the artefacts more closely. One of them is not gold, but silver. A wheel, inscribed with a myriad of different languages.

Indy's mouth opens.

"There is no way that could possibly be real," he says, bluntly.

The man on the floor smiles.

"You're going to die," he says.

Dinah swears. and stands up. "Has it been activated, then? Can you tell?"

"Assuming it could possibly be real, then no - because I don't see either the Green Bell of Uthool or the Red Jar of Calythos around here."

He snorts.

"Asshole's bluffing."

"They've already been placed," the man says. "Rob says it's going to make us the most powerful men on this crappy little world."

Dinah is quiet, an eyebrow permanently raised in Indy's direction.

"Then he doesn't know his comics very well," Indy says. "You need 'em all in the same place."

You know, assuming that they were actually real. Which they're not.

Dinah exhales, and smiles. "Then I figure it's safe to leave him here to make his own way home, " she says.

"Wait... comics?"

"I'd suggest you keep that," gesturing towards the wheel, "someplace safe."

He blinks at her. She's kidding, right?

"Yeah, comics - you know, Wonder Woman, Superman. . ." He smirks. "The Black Canary?"

Dinah hasn't got pockets. So she just takes the wheel and holds it in her hands.

For a few seconds she's speechless.

"Black Canary comics? I have comics?"

She wonders if Babs got comics.

"Not your own series, no," he says. "Which I always thought was a shame."

He's talking to her as if she were the real Dinah Lance. . . he must be nuts.

"But you have comics."

She calls herself Dinah Lance, dresses like that, and pretends not to know DC comics? Right. That's likely.

A grin spread across Dinah's face.

Which gets wider. "And you've read them? Indiana Jones reads my comics?"

Best. Day. Ever.

"Well, it gets boring on long journeys," he says, reflexively. People have been known to tease him about his weakness for comics.

"Wait. You've heard of me?" That's not very likely.

"Of course I have."

True to her word, Diah is happy to leave the bad guys and let them stew until they rescue themselves.

"I've got comics, but you've got movies."

Indy groans.

"Lady, you're confusing the living hell out of me."

"What, I'm allowed to have a comicbook about me but you're not allowed movies?" Dinah challenges. "Tell me your life wouldn't make a good boys own adventure series."