Green Lantern's Protégée

4: "There is no such thing as too many s'mores."

Mount Justice

July 20, 21:52 EDT

"Gathered a couple of chairs, some firewood, scrounged the pantry for graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows and now we're cozy up together outside—" Wally stopped in his footsteps as his once ignorant face of joy was replaced by one of confusion, "—just the two of us?"

"We're going to need a lot more stuff than that if we're going to go camping!" Robin exclaimed, in his civvies and sunglasses. Cyra stood next to him, wearing a Green Lantern sweatshirt. She was grinning like a madwoman.

"I hope you don't mind, I invited the others to join in the fun with the s'mores," M'gann said innocently.

"Yeah, Wally," Cyra snickered, "you don't mind, do you?"

"Oh—of course not!" Wally said with false enthusiasm that made Cyra smirk. He stuck her tongue out at the Green Lantern. The others took some of his things from his arms, planning to go get some tents to put up. As Wally walked by Cyra, he hissed in her ear. "This is definitely not funny!"

"Really? Because I'm laughing," Cyra said with a short laugh for dramatic effect.

Wally shriveled up his nose at her, but Cyra continued to laugh as she pointed her ring at the two chairs Wally was holding to his chest and floated them up and out of his arms as she started to walk down the hall to the docking bay where they kept the vehicles, fixing for the woods near the Cave.

"Cheer up, it's camping time! And you know what that means—scary stories!"

"This was a great idea, don't you think, Wally?" Robin asked. The Team had found a small clearing in the woods, where they build a fire surrounded by a circle of stones. Three tents were set up, each being able to hold two people. Cyra was on her sixth s'more, marshmallow coating the edges of her mouth. "Camping in the great outdoors!" Robin said as he roasted a marshmallow over the fire.

"I don't remember inviting you—any of you." Wally gave Cyra a pointed glare. "Besides, I didn't say anything about camping either. I said campfire. Big difference between campfire and the whole camping thing. I don't like camping . . . outside . . ."

Cyra snorted. "Where else would you camp out at? Walmart?"

"Camping out at Walmart is fun!"

"Maybe if you don't have a life," Cyra rolled her eyes, starting on her next s'more.

"Unless of course," Wally continued after being interrupted, "I'm camping with that special someone." He looked over at his shoulder where M'gann sat on her chair, smiling widely at her marshmallow in hand.

"Dude," Robin said, "kinda bordering on creepy."

Cyra choked on her s'more as she elbowed Robin, laughing with food in her mouth. Robin did his own little cackle as the green-eyed speedster glared down at them with the wraith of a hundred pretzels.

"Well, I think all of us camping is a wonderful idea!" M'gann stated.

Wally smirked. "She doesn't seem to think so."

"She's probably on a sugar overload," Robin dismissed.

"Thanks to Wally, I get to try s'mores for the first time!" M'gann declared, her cheeks stuffed with marshmallow-y goodness—a true gift from the gods, the savior to planet Earth, the only comfort the people will have once a nuclear fallout occurs or alien invasion, devastating the planet and leaving those alive to wonder around, searching for the mental trash cans around the slums with a bright fire. A gang of dirty people around, holding a stick—the closest thing to a weapon at that time—over the flame. Besides that, they have no supplies. Except, that is, for a bag of white, pristine, marshmallows.