Harold sits at a table in the crowded, popular restaurant. He is talking
to a man who is nodding respectfully to him. It's hard to recognize him,
but it may be a City Councilman. The possible Councilman extends a hand to
Harold, who grins with almost childish pride and shakes his hand,
clapping him on the shoulder and then returning to his lemonade. 

Harold(#1120Pfces)

This is a man in his late forties or early fifties, as can be seen in the
faint lines on his face and the grey that extends upwards from his
temples, but little other indication elsewhere. He is fit and
athletic-looking, and his suit is a well-tailored se date dark blue with a
black silk tie. Rimless glasses with gold frames rest on his nose, and his
eyes are a clear and mild green. His voice is equally mild and clear,
rolling and infinitely expressive and rich. When he speaks, his hands
emphasize and arti culate his meaning clearly, and his whole manner,
casual and nonchalant, does little to disguise the charisma that seems to
draw attention to him. 

Dinah Lance

The woman standing before you appears to be in her mid-late twenties. A
short mop of honey-blonde curls falls to caress the nape of her neck and
jawline, accentuating the classical beauty of her fine-boned features.
Sparkling blue eyes survey her surroundings from beneath a fringe of dark
lashes, her expressive mouth quirking when she chances to find something
humorous. 

Dinah is wearing a silk long-sleeved dress that fits the curves of her
body as though it was made for her. The cerulean color compliments the
honeyed tones of her skin, and makes her eyes appear a vivid turquoise.
Her golden hair has been artfully tucked into a sophisticated french twist
revealing the silver hoops which dangle from her ears. A long filmy silk
scarf in swirling shades of blue and green drapes around her slim neck,
the ends falling over her shoulder to trail against the skin of her back
which is exposed by the cut of the dress. Her momevents are smooth, fluid
and graceful as she tries to give the impression of cool confidence. 

Dinah Lance steps through the door of this establishment and survey's the
room with a slightly nervous expression in her eyes. A stray tendril of
blonde hair is tucked behind one ear, then with her chin lifting a
fraction of an inch, the lady says cooly t o the Host, "Hello. I'm
expecting someone...they should have reservations for a table for two in
non-smoking. Mr. Harold Dayton?" Even as the words slip from her mouth,
she spies the prominant lawyer. 

With a relieved smile, Dinah approaches him.

The host nods to her and says "Miss Lance, is it?" He respectfully brings
her close to Harold's table and withdraws unobtrusively. Harold rises.
"Dinah, hello." he says, smiling gently. "It is good to see you again.
Please, have a seat." He pulls a chair out slightly for her before
returning to his. 

The woman nods to the host and gracefully sinks down to her chair, with a
look of appreciation to Mr. Dayton in an age where most men would tremble
at the thought of performing a courteous act in this age of feminism. She
rather likes being treated as a lady, and it shows in her warm manner and
the conspiratorial note in her voice. "I was afraid you wouldn't appear,
Mr. Dayton. Not many solicitors of your calibre would." 

Harold smiles. "I'm afraid you won't find many with the qualifications you
are looking for. I have to confess I'm full of questions." He takes a sip
of his lemonade. "Would you like something to drink?" 

She pauses a moment, studying your glass as though determining what is and
is not appropriate for a business dinner. For that fleeting second, it's
clear that she's rattled--which is what prompts her to say, "I'll have a
gin tonic thank you." And then she does something truly unorthadox: she
pulls a small tape recorder from her evening purse, and raises one slim
brow. "Do you mind if I record this conversation? I am not the person who
will be leading the League. For their benefit, I'd like to be able to t
ell him what we spoke of, word for word." *click*

Harold nods. "The...League?" he says. Suddenly, he is struck by something
ironic and bursts out laughing. He subtly summons a waiter and orders
Dinah's gin and tonic, grinning and chuckling a little. "I'm sorry, I'm
very sorry. Excuse me." 

You say "Twenty three years ago today, the Watergate burglars were
caught...I've been itnterviewed about it for hours today, and here I am
being taped...."

Dinah Lance tilts her head slightly to the left, regarding the laughing
man with bemusement. Then she grins, her nose wrinkling in mock-dishust. 
Maybe. "You're a Republican? I guess we can forgive that." A wink conveys
that was meant to be a joke, though if you know of Canary's past
history...there may have been some element of truth to it. "Are you sure
you're in the mood to discuss business, sir?" 

Harold nods. "Of course, of course, excuse me. And I'm a good Johnson
Democrat." he adds, waggling a finger. "I -prosecuted- the Watergate
case." 

Dinah Lance says "Ah..." the lady relaxes visibly and takes a sip of her
drink. "A true patriot. If you had said you were on the Iran-Contra
committee, you'd be my personal hero."" 

Harold coughs a little. "Well, er." he says, grinning at his lemonade. "I
-did- help with the reorganization of the National Security Council
afterwards. Does that count?" 

Dinah Lance thinks . o O (Oliver would say there's no such thing as a Good
Johnson anything, but that's him--not me. It's probably a good thing he
has no interest in the League.) 

She laughs genuinely, already at ease with you. "I'm not sure. Are you
responsible for MiB's? Do you chainsmoke cigarettes and plan coups?" Dinah
leans back in her chair and sighs, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "You
said you had questions--you go first." 

Harold chuckles. "Mibs?" he says quizzically. "I hope not." Then he puts
his drink down and leans forward a bit. "Let's start with the things I
know something about. The League. Wonder Woman is gone, the others are
leaving. Without her, the chances of getting it by the UN is much
lessened. I want to know two things. First, the facts: what is happening
over there? A new project? Another collapse? And second, I want your
opinion: should I keep pushing, or mothball it again?" 

Seconds pass as Dinah scrutinizes the older man, assessing everything from
the cut of his shirt to the tone of his voice...and...decides to trust
him. Her gaze lowers to the tablecloth, and in a halting manner she
begins, "Wonder Woman is a sterling hero with an excellent reputation. But
there were members of the League who felt that the leadership should go to
someone a bit more experienced. The League was dissolved in her absence,
and at this point officially--there is no Justice League of America. If t
here were to be a major parahuman attack either nationally or locally, the
public would have to rely on individual heroes functioning in a makeshift
network. We do have the current chairperson lined up, and several
potential recruits. But it will take about two weeks before the League is
a viable defense once again--and in that time we don't wish that to be a
widespread fact." 

Harold nods. "As it was before." he interjects.

"There are too many villians who would take advantage of the situation."
Her lashes lift as her eyes study you once more. "You get my drift?" 

Harold nods. "I fully understand."

You say "But you say...two weeks? Before what?"

She picks up her glass and swirls the contents of it slowly with the
stirrer. "Before we can be sure our teleporters and satellite base are
operational. I'm not so sure we even want the sanction of the United
Nations. I'm very sure that the current chairperson could care less about
Earth authority. He operates on his own moral code, which most consider to
be above self-interesy." 

Dinah Lance thinks . o O (And something gives me the gut feeling if we
don't get somemeasure of approval, the press will regard us as
vigilantes.) 

Harold nods. "I won't ask who it is, though I have some guesses." He
pauses, taking a sip of his lemonade. "So should I continue to press for
that sanction? I was on the verge of getting discussion of it added to the
agenda for next month, but that is the absolute earliest it could be done..."

Dinah shrugs, sips her drink, then says point-blank "Since you seem to be
willing to represent us, you may as well know that the Martian Manhunter
will once again lead the League. But he is known neither for his interest
of govornment and politics, or his charisma. Only his tact--and even then
he can be... ... ...blunt. It's why I'm in charge ofhandling the
moremundane aspects of the organization, and why I've decided that our
lawyer should also have some experience with PR." 

Dinah Lance thinks . o O (This is the point where he either accept the
challenge, or runs screaming from the restaurant. Brace yourself, gal...) 

Harold looks carefully across at her. "I have no difficulty with your
proposal, but what precisely would I be representing? A United Nations
organ? An 'informal network', as you stated earlier? The JLA? The JLI?
Something different?" He ticks off the possibilities on his fingers
gracefully. 

Harold thinks . o O (Poor kid, probably her first business dinner.)

She considers this a long moment. Then doesn't really answer the question,
instead taking a side route..."I'm not sure if you remember the man named
G. Gordon Godfrey, or the hatred in metahumans and heroes that he inspired
during his propoganda smear cam paign. That was roughly four years ago:
and each one of us willingly and enthusiastically broke the law in order
to do our jobs as defenders of the peace. In the wake of that, the Justice
League that I served my second stint on formed via Doctor Fate: wit h
Batman as leader. As you can imagine and probably remember, it was a PR
nightmare. It was Superman who talked the United Nations into accepting us
as an International force." And then she smiles...a truly devil-may-care
smile that lets you know that you 're in for one hell of a time as their
lawyer. "But the League was never so effective. We don't have Superman
signed on. We don't have a smiling sparkling Wonder Woman. We have an
alien. A liberal feminist. A sorceress who may very well appear satanic to
anyone over 50. And we just don't care. We don't know what we are yet--but
we do know our goal: we WILL be prepared tostop any metahuman threat,
whether it happen in space, or in a third-world nation. And we won't be
stopped." 

She sips her drink and smiles sunnily. "Oh, and we might get Green
Lantern. The new, completely unknown one." 

Harold nods and leans back slightly. "I remember that time." he says
-very- carefully. "I was attached to the Legal Committee at that time, and
I helped Superman behind the scenes, in fact. And there is a reason for
that: because I share with him a very healthy respect for law, and I knew
that the minute, the -instant- that the UN stuck it's fingers into that
organization, Batman and those that didn't have that respect would find an
excuse to leave as soon as they could. If you want that sort of
assistance, I'll be happy to provide it: I'll even be able to use some of
the tactics I was using to promote the League, and practically all of the
contacts. But if you want an organization that shares the unofficial
qualities, I'll only take a retainer as a criminal lawyer, because, Dinah,
you'll need one." Suddenly there is a bit of steel in Harold's generally
mellifluous voice. "If the law needs to get changed, I can work for that,
but I won't be a part of something that just tries to go around it." 

You can see a private battle being waged within herself as she absorbs
your words. Part of her acknowledges the naked truth present that is there
for anyone with common sense to see; and yet another part of her whispers
that if everyone followed the rules, The Batman would never inspired the
second age of heroes...which includes herself. "We don't want to break the
law, and certainly we have NO wish to do anything immoral. But I just
don't see a hope in hell of us doing anything if we have to run to the U
nited Nations asking for permission to go on a mission each time." Then
she shocks herself by blurting out "And I LIKED Batman's leadership." The
moment she says it, her pretty face screws up in a look of bafflement. Did
she just praise Batman?! 

Dinah Lance thinks . o O (God...I just admitted Grim and Gruesome had his
good points. I must be coming down with something.) 

Harold nods. "I do not know him personally." he says calmly. "I'm sure he
has very many good leadership qualities. I also will not bore you with the
philosophy of law. I do not anticipate the UN requiring approval for every
mission, or indeed, for any mission, so long as League leadership takes
responsibility and provides accountability for successes and failures.
Furthermore, you could seek legal support via other means than the UN, if
you considered it too unwieldy even for oversight. An international treaty
or convention, perhaps. My point is that an unofficial organization with
no backing -does- consist of vigilantes, in the legal sense, no matter how
much good they do, and claiming that they do good things does not absolve
them one whit of violating the standards they claim to uphold." He leans
back and relaxes a little. "I know this is all a lot to consider. I hope I
can explain myself clearly." 

A slow sigh whistles from between her teeth, and she nods. "Forgive me Mr. 
Dayton. Sometimes...it's not easy to forget the fact that Reagan branded
us all criminals, with the exception of Superman. And as for Bush..." Her
mouth twists wryly, "Is it any wonder we're leery of becoming beholden to
a govorning body?" She switches tactics. "Tell me...when you assisted in
the prosecution of Watergate--did you do it because they broke the law, or
did you do it because you believed what you were doing was *right*?"
There's some expectant and obscure point in her expression, as she looks
to you. 

Harold grins. "I didn't -want- to get into the philosophy of law, but if
you insist. Yes, we went after them before they broke the law. We worked
extra hard, long hours, and weekends, because they -also- violated the
public trust. Similarly, nobody ever prosecuted the earlier organization,
because while they violated the law, they did good deeds. However, as you
say, things have changed, and should you attempt the same thing today, you
will need a criminal lawyer, because there are enough hungry young
assistant DAs out there that at least one of them will come gunning for
you." Then he looks serious. "But what you do -not- need in that situation
is a lawyer to be anywhere near the operational end of your organization,
because that lawyer would be bound by law to report your operations to the
authorities or lose his license to practice for failing to report a crime
intended to be committed by a client." 

A frustrated look mingled with admiration for you becomes evident in
Dinah's gaze. "What would you suggest then? None of us have the patience
to put up with the buerocratic bulls..er, red tape that is associated with
following every law to the exact letter. I can remember going on missions
with the team, and actually being forced to turn back because we 'didn't
have permission to enter airspace'. How can we reconcile that?" 

Dinah Lance thinks . o O (Hell, we're too lazy to even draft a new
charter.) 

Harold nods. "That's difficult, but not insurmountable." he says. 
"Individual nation-states can turn back any UN operation. This could be
avoided partly by a treaty or a convention: in those cases, you would know
in advance the problem nations and could take steps to operate more
covertly. Few nation-states will make waves if they find out a covert
operation has taken place in their borders, since it makes them look
vulnerable to their enemies. Of course, that may not always be possible,
and it would be very hard to get plausible deniability with people so
recognizable, but that is only a public relations problem: the legal
issues associated with covert action are muddy enough that people actually
doing good deeds won't be bothered." 

Metropolis: The Regency

The Regency. Exquisite fine dining and entertainment for all, this elegant
 restaurant, during the evening holds an air of high quality, while in the
 day, a quiet dining experience. During the evening, the lights are dimmed,
 a few twinkling candles illuminate each table on the two levels of the
 room. The upper level centers around dining, each table surrounded by tall
 mahogany wood chairs, dyed in a rich dark brown. While the bottom section
 is dominated by the dance floor and stage. A variety of bands and shows are
 performed nightly upon the large stage, situated at the far back. In the
 daytime, the lights are bright, brilliant bulbs of electricity give a more
 relaxed feel to the restaurant. The stage is pushed back, while the dance
 floor itself is covered in tables and chairs. 
The bar is located along the southern area of the restaurant, sectioned off
 from the main dining room by a swinging door. It is stocked full with the
 finest wines, champagnes, and liquors, fit for kings. The bar carries the
 more modern beers and alcoholic beverages as well. A few tables are
 situated around, with an enormous television set located at the back. The
 television drones out the days news or during special times, the sporting
 events of the hour. In the northeastern corner of the room, there is one,
 small, unmarked door, leading to the stairwell beyond.

Contents:
Dinah Lance
Places:
Bar  Stage  Table #1  Table #2  Table #3 
Obvious exits:
Metropolis <O> 

You say "I won't deny that operating under any sort of charter with any
sort of sponsor is limiting. If you want complete freedom, you can't find
it legally." 

Dinah Lance relaxes. o O (I bet Oracle would be relieved to know that. 
Then again, she probably does.) Slowly, she pieces it together. 
"Well...I'll have to talk to the Manhunter about what exactly he wants. 
Currently we have a benefactor in the form of a charity that we have to be
responsible to; I daresay that if we don't operate within the law...for
the most part...and if we don't have adequate legal representation, we
could unintentionally pile a heap of troubles on their doorstep." 

Harold nods. "That's very true. Of course, if they have an attorney, he or
she has probably already told them that." he says. "I think you should
talk it over with the rest of the organization. If you decide to go the
unsupervised route, I'll do my best as a criminal attorney for you, but I
won't be able to exert any influence or sooth any savage breasts." he
adds. 

Dinah Lance says "Would you be willing to meet with our sponsor and
discuss this, as well as The Martian Manhunter?"" 

Harold nods. "Certainly, certainly." he says. "Just call my secretary and
he'll set up the appointment." 

Dinah Lance finishes her drink, then glances at her watch. "Good
heavens...I only have an hour until my commuter flight." She rises
smoothly, clicking off the tape recorder and extending a slim hand. "I
want to thank you for your time, Mr. Dayton. I'll see what I can arrange,
and I most definately will be in touch. There simply isn't a more
qualified person for this type of position." 

Dinah Lance thinks . o O (I'll have to see what J'Onn thinks...but this
guy's too shrewd to lose.) 

Harold nods slightly. "Thank you." he says, rising and extending a hand to
her. "I hope to speak with you again soon." 

Dinah Lance thinks . o O (We need him.)

She shakes your hand in a firm grip, then smiles. "Goodnight, Mr. Dayton."
Without any awkward hesitation or gauche stumbling words, she turns and
makes her exit. 

The host approaches.  "Mr. Dayton?  John Dean is on line two for you, from
California."

Harold smiles.  "I wondered when he would call."  He rises and walks
slowly towards the phone.