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Chapter Eight
Clark was busy looking through some contracts when Lex came in. He dumped a sheaf of papers on Clark’s desk.
“What’s this?” Clark asked.
The bald man shrugged. “Potential acquisition.”
He quickly skimmed through the papers. Lex was negotiating a buyout of a company in Star City. One that Queen Industries was also interested in. The bald billionaire had somehow managed to learn what Oliver’s company was bidding and had gone one better.
Clark was fairly sure his boss had used some kind of blackmail. It was a classic Luthor tactic. Long before he had taken over Luthorcorp and absorbed it into LexCorp, his father had used the same tactic. When Lionel had announced he was closing the fertiliser plant in Smallville, Lex had invested his own capital and asked some of the workers to provide the rest to save the plant and their jobs, creating LexCorp. Lionel had resorted to dirty tactics to undercut Lex’s bid for another company a few months later, before blackmailing shareholders into selling their shares. He’d forced the then sheriff, Ethan Miller, to hand over information, including everything from minor infringements to DUIs.
“You sure this is wise given what’s been happening in the company?” he asked his friend.
It had been happening for a while. Someone had been sabotaging various projects. Clark was even sure someone was trying to hack into the system. There had been several attempts, not all of them unsuccessful. The hacker was smart enough to relay it through at least a hundred different servers and by the time the I.T. specialists were able to track him, the hacker was long gone.
Clark knew some of the sabotage had come from the Justice League. There had been Project Leviathan, which his friend AC had sabotaged, causing Lex to lose a military contract worth millions of dollars. Another project, however, Project Ares, had been shut down before it could be completed as somehow information had gotten back to the military that a senator had been taking bribes to hide the project’s true purpose. Lex had been using soldiers who had supposedly died in combat to create super-soldiers.
Before the Justice League had been able to inform the appropriate authorities, Sam Lane had got wind of it. Clark had heard that the General had been promoted and was now a military adviser for Congress. Senator Burke had been expelled from the senate for his actions. Fortunately, the government, knowing the Justice League was already on the case, had not forced a complete audit of LexCorp.
Lex had been furious over the matter, even going so far as to interrogate Clark, who managed to convince his boss that he knew nothing of any information getting back to the military.
For a while, he’d wondered if Lois Lane had been behind it, but considering the reporter hadn’t been heard from in over three years, he had dismissed the thought.
He looked at Lex questioningly. His boss didn’t appear too concerned over the problems.
“It’s Queen Industries,” he said. “I would think given who your ex has chosen to warm her bed lately, you would be only too happy to ensure their failure.”
That was a bit of a low blow, he thought. Chloe had been with Oliver Queen for over a year. Every picture of them together showed her happy and he had been just as happy for her. Not that he’d let Lex see that.
“That’s in the past.”
“I see,” Lex said coolly. “So, the woman the other night.”
“What about her?”
“You seeing her again?”
Clark frowned. “What’s this sudden interest in my love life?” he asked.
“Excuse me for wanting to see my friend happy instead of moping all the damn time!”
“Who I see outside of work isn’t really your concern,” he returned. “And who says I mope? I’m too busy to mope.”
The other man snorted. “Yeah. Right.”
“You know, maybe you should pay more attention to your kid than my extra-curricular activities.”
Lex glared. “Don’t tell me how to raise my son! What I do with Alexander is my own business!”
It really annoyed him that Lex was always pretending to be so concerned about Clark’s personal life but as soon as Clark turned it around on him, it was his ‘own business’. For someone who was supposed to be his friend, Lex certainly seemed to keep a lot to himself.
If Clark was being generous, he could say that Lex did it because he’d been badly burned in the past when he’d shared his life with someone he’d trusted. Clark could understand that. Yet for all that he claimed to trust Clark, the other man acted the opposite.
Maybe Clark didn’t know much about raising a child, but he knew what Lex’s upbringing was like. Lionel had been a cruel father who neglected his son, while having affairs behind his wife’s back. Lex had often told him he’d acted out as a teenager, hoping to get his father’s attention. Even negative attention was better than being ignored, he’d lamented once.
“You know, you were forever complaining about how your dad never cared about what you did. It looks to me like you’re doing to Alex exactly the same thing Lionel did to you.”
“I don’t need advice from someone who hasn’t dated a woman in five years!”
Clark stared at him. What did that have to do with the way he was raising his son? Alex was six years old now and at the age where he would start to question why his father never spent any time with him. Part of the reason, he suspected, was Lana. Their marriage had ended rather acrimoniously, although it was still the longest Lex had ever been married. He’d claimed to have loved Lana, but Clark felt the man had only wanted her because she fit the ideal profile. The man often talked about his political ambitions and a pretty wife who also came from a fairly high-profile background would look good to voters.
He’d suspected that Lex had manipulated Lana into marriage, getting his staff to change her contraceptive pills for placebos. Lana had been rather naïve when she’d begun dating Lex, thinking he really loved her. She’d finally left when she’d had enough, fighting for custody of her son. Lex had even manipulated the system there as well, claiming that Lana was a danger to the child.
Clark hadn’t voiced any of his suspicions to Lex. He’d pretended to take the other man’s side, providing the proverbial shoulder to cry on when the marriage had collapsed. Lex presumably didn’t know. He clearly didn’t care for any opinion that didn’t agree with his own, especially when it came to his personal life.
Fortunately, Clark was saved from further argument when his phone beeped, alerting him to a meeting on his calendar. He glanced at it and realised it had come from Watchtower. Bruce, or Oliver, he thought. They had devised a system so when they wanted a meeting with him they would send it to his calendar on his phone.
“Sorry, Lex. I have a meeting in ten minutes. I’d forgotten about it until now.”
The bald man shrugged. “Just look over those papers and get them back to me by the end of the day. The meeting with Gould is on Friday and I want you with me.”
He frowned. “Are you expecting trouble?” Usually Lex only needed him at these meetings when he thought there was a chance things could turn sour.
“Possibly. It’s always good to have insurance though.”
Great. Now I’m insurance, Clark thought as his boss left. He quickly tidied the papers on his desk and left the office.
He quickly made his way to Watchtower. Oliver was at the helm this time.
“Oliver?”
“Hey, Clark. Bruce had some things to take care of in Gotham.”
Clark shrugged. Bruce had other people working undercover in the local criminal families in Gotham. Three years earlier they’d managed to get enough evidence on Carmine Falcone and he was now rotting in a federal prison. They’d now set their sights on Moroni.
“So, what’s up?” he asked.
“We think we might be close to tracking down Phoenix Inc,” Oliver said.
“Really? I thought Bruce said there was nothing to find.”
“Not about Phoenix Inc itself,” a voice said. “But I think I’m close to finding the hacker.”
He turned and stared at the source of the voice, breaking out into a huge grin. “Chloe!”
He wrapped his arms around the petite blonde and hugged her.
“Hey, Clark,” she said softly.
He breathed in the scent of her perfume. It was one he’d given her a long time ago. She claimed it was still her favourite.
He stood at arms’ length and looked her over. She looked good. No, she looked more than good. His gaze fell to her abdomen which was slightly rounded. She also had a gold band on her ring finger.
“Are you …?” he asked.
She grinned. “Yeah. Almost five months now.” She quickly explained that she and Oliver had got married quietly once they’d learned she was pregnant.
“Wow! That’s great! I’m so happy for you guys.”
Oliver squeezed his shoulder. “We weren’t sure …” he said, looking a little uncertain.
Clark shook his head. The fight in the Talon had all been Chloe’s idea. Their so-called split had had to look as acrimonious as possible. He’d been reluctant, knowing that a lot of things could have come out in the fake fight.
They’d been drifting apart for a while. It hadn’t been anyone’s fault. He understood that. They’d both finally come to the realisation that they were better off as friends than lovers. Chloe had been a little depressed over the fact that she had missed out on her dream of being a reporter at the Daily Planet. Not that she blamed Clark for that. It had just never seemed to work out. It had still caused a few arguments between them.
When Clark had begun working for the Justice League, they’d decided it would be a good idea to look as if he’d cut ties with any of his old friends. Chloe had always been fairly vocal over her distrust of the Luthors and they’d figured Lex would trust Clark more if it looked like he’d chosen his job with LexCorp over Chloe.
“So, uh, what’s this about the hacker?”
Chloe turned back to the computer she’d been working on. An image came up on screen.
“I’ve been tracking the money transfers and I’ve narrowed it down to two people,” she said. An image of a young Asian man came up on the screen. “Joe Kwan. He was born in the US but his parents emigrated from China about twenty years ago.”
Clark read the bio. Joe was only eighteen.
“He’s a little young.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. The kid’s smart.” Her fingers flew over the keyboard and another image popped up, this time of a young man who could pass for his late teens or very early twenties. His bio listed him as older.
“Stuart Campbell,” Chloe said. “Graduated M.I.T, but it looks like he’s done some pretty heavyweight hacking of his own. Government databases, corporations. He went off-grid about three years ago. Right after he quit working for LexCorp.”
If he was off-grid, wouldn’t that have made him harder to track, Clark thought. Chloe answered that question as well.
“Whoever was doing the hacking was doing it at a random time each time, so I created a program that would alert us and ping back to the source. It took a while as it went through a hundred different servers, all around the world, but we finally managed to track it back to a place here in Metropolis.”
“Stuart’s last-known address was in Metropolis,” he said, reading the file. “What makes you think he’s still a suspect?” Other than the fact the kid had worked for LexCorp. Clark didn’t even remember him.
“Kwan is a student at Met U but he hasn’t gone off the radar. Of course, we could be completely off-base, but Kwan is acting like he’s got nothing to hide. So why would Stuart go off-grid?”
“Unless he’s the one who’s got something to hide. Okay, makes sense. What now?”
“I can answer that,” Oliver said. “Bart’s on stand-by so the next time this hacker tries to break in, he’ll check out every site.”
Clark bit his lip. It still might not work. Bart was fast but even he couldn’t check out thousands of internet cafes or libraries in the time the hacker was online.
“It’s all we’ve got for now,” Chloe told him. “I know it’s not much.”
It was the best they could do, he thought. They needed to protect the hacker. Given Lex’s vindictiveness, if his security team found the hacker before the League did, they would never have the chance to find out why they were breaking into the system.
Chloe took a break from the computer. Oliver was working on something on the other side of the room as she sat down on a couch.
“So, how are you? Really? It feels like ages since we’ve talked.”
“I’m okay,” he said. He reached for her left hand and rubbed his finger over the gold band. “I can’t believe you and Oliver are married!” He grinned. “I mean, it’s great. Although, you know, if he ever does anything to hurt you, I will have to kick his ass.”
She grinned back. “Yeah, I bet you would.” She sobered. “Are you dating anyone?”
“No. Well … there was this woman the other night. She seemed … nice.”
Chloe frowned. “Okay, why the hesitation?”
He shrugged. There was nothing he could really put his finger on, except for the fact that Joanne had appeared rather cagey. As if reluctant to share anything really personal. It almost felt like she’d been using a script. Like she’d created a back-story in her mind.
When he told his friend, she bit her lip.
“Clark, I might not be the best person to give you advice on this, but are you sure that was what you were feeling or do you think you might have let the past cloud your judgement? I mean, I don’t blame you for being a little gun-shy.”
He shook his head. He and Chloe were long over. He had got to a point where he could be happy for her in her marriage and her impending motherhood, without any jealousy or regret. Despite how close they had always been, he often wondered if perhaps they had expected too much of each other. He’d loved her and still did, but it wasn’t the kind of love he’d witnessed with his parents.
“Is it because of your … you know,” she said, waving her hand in an up-up-and-away gesture.
That was part of it, he thought. Chloe had been the first person he’d ever told about his abilities. He’d known they could never be together as a couple if he wasn’t honest with her. They’d had a few arguments over the years about his abilities. Mostly because Chloe was the type of person who could never really let something go. She’d see something he’d done, or he’d suddenly disappear on her and she would call him on it. He couldn’t have expected her to just drop it without saying a word, although when they’d begun their third year of high school, that was basically what she’d done.
When they’d graduated high school, he had told her everything. She’d confessed that she’d always known he was different but had slowly realised that she needed to back off and wait for him to trust her with his secret. She’d once told him that it wouldn’t have been fair to either of them if she’d basically blackmailed him for his secret, refusing to go out with him unless he told her the truth.
Clark didn’t know enough about Joanne yet to know if he could trust her, but then, that was what dating was for. To get to know the other person.
“There’s something about this woman, Chloe. I don’t know what it is, but I … “
“You feel something. Something more than what we had.” She looked over at her husband and smiled softly. “I think I know what you mean. It’s the same feeling I had when I fell in love with Oliver.”
The blond man looked up. “She say something nice about me?” he asked.
Chloe wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m talking about you, not at you, Queen. Get back to work.”
“You bossing me around, woman?”
“Yep!”
He shrugged. “Okeydokey.” He returned to his work. Clark laughed at the couple. He never would have pictured Oliver saying ‘okeydokey’ in a million years. His friend certainly appeared more relaxed than Clark had ever seen him. Oliver tended to take his work very seriously. Of course, Clark suspected that had a lot to do with the fact that he wasn’t as self-assured as he appeared.
Oliver had once confessed he’d been something of a bully in high school. Having lost his parents at a young age, he’d been brought up by nannies who had no idea how to handle a young boy who had lost his whole world. He’d been spoiled and arrogant by the time he reached his teens. An incident when he was sixteen had led to him drinking and partying like there was no tomorrow, using the alcohol as a crutch. Two years later he’d been marooned on an island, forced to use his wits to survive.
When he’d returned to the States, it was as if the world had gone on without him and he was no longer sure of his place. Working for the Justice League had given him a new focus and a new purpose.
Clark turned back to look at Chloe. He realised that as good as she had been for Oliver, he had been just as good for her. She’d never been secure about her looks, saying her cousin had been considered prettier.
“You know, if you are at all worried, I can do a background check on this woman,” she suggested, reminding him of their conversation.
He smiled. “Thanks, but I think I’d rather get to know her the old-fashioned way.”
“So you’ll ask her out?”
“I’ll ask her out.”
“Good,” she said. “It’s about time you got back out there, Clark Kent.”Comment
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Lots of information in that last chapter. It went a long way, helping settle many of the bumps, questions and wrinkles surrounding the Lex- friend/assistant-Clark-estranged ex-Chloe triangle with League entanglements. Snickered over Mrs.Arrow helping to chase down Phoenix's hacker and offering to dig into "Joanne's past... It occurred to me that this,Chloe and the Farmboy, is just a slight reversal Lois and the Ken-doll;and I'm less bothered than I originally thought to be. I especially like that they are all in a good headspace about each other, the past and future. Quite a surprise, really. Major kudos to you. As always, looking forward to MORE😊Comment
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At this point, where Clark's relationship with Lex is concerned, while they're still considered friends, the friendship is just a pretence. They certainly don't share any confidences.
As for the supposed estrangement with Chloe, I deliberately wrote it that way so the revelation that Clark and Chloe are still friends looks more like a twist. Put it this way, if everyone in Smallville believed Chloe and Clark, who were basically attached at the hip in high school, were kaput, then Lex would believe it. Clark is smart enough to be able to hide that from him, plus he has that added advantage of his abilities.
Chloe will be in for a shock when the person behind Phoenix Inc is revealed. It was a way for me to get around what happened in the original premise where Clark's character (Michael) had already met and been attracted to Lois's character (Abby).
I wanted there to be a past relationship and as much as I avoid shipping Chlark myself (I admit I wrote a couple of stories but after certain attitudes from some shippers, I will only ever use it as a 'past love' deal), the last thing I wanted to do was stick with the Clana angst. I'd always felt that had Chloe and Clark got together, they would have been less angsty and would have eventually outgrown each other - at least romantically. Which is also why I have them in a good headspace now where they can be happy for each other.
All this nonsense about never getting over your first love doesn't take into account that first loves are usually childhood infatuations and most people don't have the emotional maturity to see it for what it really is. The one thing I would argue is that the reason Clark finally sees Lois as a romantic partner is that he's grown up and he's ready for a mature relationship. As is she. And I'm getting off my soapbox now.Comment
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Chapter Nine
She had no idea why she was so nervous as she waited on the street for Clark to pick her up for dinner. He’d called her the night before and asked her out. Of course, it was what she had been aiming for, but for some reason her heart had skipped a beat when she’d heard his voice.
She had dressed with care in a white sleeveless dress with a matching bolero shrug. The side panels had been decorated with three rows of sequins, creating a dressier effect so the look was dressy enough for a restaurant but not so dressy that it looked like she was going to the opera or something.
She didn’t know what it was and definitely didn’t understand the feeling, but ever since she’d met Clark, she had experienced what she could only determine was butterflies in her stomach. Every time she caught his gaze. She tried to tell herself that he wasn’t who he seemed to be, which was a very nice, intelligent man. She’d spent much of the past two days since they’d met giving herself a stern talking to about not believing what was on the surface and remembering that Clark Kent worked for Lex, the man responsible for her life being flipped upside down.
Yet none of that mattered. No matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot when she thought of him.
She’d had relationships before. When she was in her early teens, she had had a crush on a young man who had been an army brat, the same as her. She had managed to steal a bottle of her father’s whiskey when they’d been based at Fort Addelson. She had shared the alcohol with Wes Keenan. They’d been fooling around in a storage warehouse and she’d tried to kiss him.
Some years ago she had learned that Wes had supposedly been killed in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan, where he’d been stationed as a Green Beret. She’d believed it, until his wife Jodi had sent a letter to the Daily Planet saying she believed her husband hadn’t died in the crash and had actually been turned into some kind of super-soldier by Lex Luthor.
Her other relationships had been fairly brief and nothing really spectacular. It wasn’t that she didn’t date. It was that most of those dates tended to take second place to her work. She had entered journalism with the ambition to become the feminine version of Woodward and Bernstein. She had never pictured a white picket fence in her future.
It was odd. Chloe had once accused her of being cynical about men, refusing to put any trust or faith in them, claiming she was better off without one.
So why was she getting so uptight about a first date with Clark Kent? It wasn’t like the guy was anything special, she told herself, other than being insanely hot. When she’d been researching him, she told herself that his looks were nothing spectacular. Now that she’d actually met him, she had realised she’d under-estimated his attractiveness.
She sighed as she looked up the street for any sign of his car. She really needed to get a grip on herself. All they’d done was talk. That was hardly enough time to judge the man on his looks, or personality.
The beep of a car horn startled her out of her thoughts. She stared at the car pulling up to the kerb. A black Maserati Convertible. Clark grinned at her from the driver’s seat. He put the car in ‘park’ and got out, coming around the front of the car to open the passenger side door.
“Your carriage awaits,” he said, waving his hand with a flourish.
She snickered. There he went, being all cute again. The other night, when she’d been asking him all about his life in Smallville, he’d played it coy with a cute, ‘aw shucks’ kind of look. If she hadn’t known any better, she probably would have fallen completely for that farmboy charm.
She got in the car and relaxed against the leather seat. The car had that new, clean smell which suggested it was the latest model. Clark got in the driver’s seat and smiled at her as he buckled his seat belt.
“You look great,” he said.
She studied him. He’d worn a navy-blue sport coat and black jeans that covered powerful thighs. The look was casual and under-stated; nothing like the outfit he’d worn the other night. She had noticed that evening how he had appeared more than a little uncomfortable with the formal suit he’d been wearing.
“So, uh, where are we going?” she asked.
“There’s this great French restaurant I know,” he said. “A friend recommended it.”
She nodded. “Sounds great. I love French cuisine.”
He grinned at her before pulling out into the traffic. “I figured since you’d spent some time in Europe you’d appreciate it.”
“You trying to impress me, Clark Kent?”
“Is it working?” he asked.
She laughed and nodded. She studied the interior of the car, occasionally glancing over at him as he drove. He appeared to be a good driver, if a little over-cautious, keeping to well under the inner-city speed limit.
“This is a great car,” she said.
“I borrowed it from Lex. I didn’t think you’d rather I turned up in the truck for the first date.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him. He had a truck? She guessed he meant a farm truck, used for hauling hay or something. Did he really think she cared about stuff like that? Considering she’d spent many nights as a teenager attending monster truck rallies. She had never thought of herself as a girly girl and had usually preferred wearing jeans and t-shirts instead of skirts. If she had been able to get away with it, she would have worn her jeans to prom. Then again, she had never actually made it to prom. She’d stolen a tank and had been caught before she’d even got to the school gates.
She caught him eyeing her before turning his attention back to the road, pulling up at a traffic signal. He appeared to be a little anxious at her sudden silence and she wondered if he was just as nervous about this date as she was.
“Well, just so you know, in future, you don’t have to borrow a car just to impress me.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied, visibly relaxing.
She chewed her lower lip, trying to think of something else to talk about.
“So, what’s it like working for Lex? I mean, is he a good boss?”
Clark huffed a little. “He has his moments.” She caught an edge to his tone and wondered what that was about. “Don’t get me wrong. I mean, he can be a really good friend, but as a boss he can be, hmm, kind of demanding? I mean, I get it. Being the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar business can be quite stressful and he’s used to being ruthless, I guess.”
She couldn’t help wondering why Clark was trying to defend Lex even though it sounded like he didn’t really believe what he was saying. He continued to have an edge to his voice that suggested the two men were not as friendly as Clark tried to make them out to be.
She’d heard just how ruthless Lex Luthor could be. He didn’t tolerate mistakes in his employees. Stuart had told her he’d been close to being fired from LexCorp because he’d missed one little security breach. It hadn’t even been that serious!
When she’d been investigating what had happened to Michael Davis, she had discovered he had also borne the brunt of Lex’s foul temper. The man hadn’t exactly been a perfect angel, considering he’d had a record. Davis had been arrested several times for burglary but had cleaned up his act when he’d begun working for LexCorp.
Rumours had spread that someone inside the company was looking for a crew to break into another company and steal information. Information which would have proved very valuable to Lex himself. Davis had been approached to join the team but had refused, saying he had a family to take care of and wasn’t about to get involved in anything illegal. He’d sent an email to his boss telling him what had happened. The next thing he knew, he’d been arrested by local police who had told him he was suspect in a million-dollar heist. A man had been killed during the heist.
The kicker was that the police had had security footage clearly showing Davis committing the robbery. He had no alibi at the time of the incident and no way of proving it wasn’t him. Yet she’d found herself believing him, especially after he’d been killed. She had learned that there had been a patient at Belle Reve, a girl named Tina Greer, who somehow had the ability to shape-shift. Further digging had revealed another woman named Eva, with the same last name and the same ability. She’d never been able to prove if the two women were related.
She was sure Lex had been behind the plan to break into the company and had framed Davis so he couldn’t talk. He clearly hadn’t counted on the man trying to tell his story anyway, or on Lois’ investigation.
“Here we are.”
She looked up and realised they had pulled up outside the restaurant. A valet was waiting as Clark stopped the car. He left the engine running and got out, coming around to open her door and take her hand.
She was just as impressed when she walked into the restaurant. It had been decorated in the style of a bistro with genuine leather seats along one wall and leather-covered chairs at each table. A chalkboard stood on an easel in the foyer, proclaiming the specials of the evening. A man in a white silk shirt with black tie stood ready to greet them. He spoke in a cultured French accent.
“Good evening Monsieur and Mademoiselle, my name is Louis and I am your maitre d’ for this evening.” Clark smiled at the man.
“Good evening, Louis. I have a reservation for two under Kent.”
The man glanced at the paper in front of him and nodded. “Of course, sir. Your table is all ready for you. This way, please.”
Clark kept up polite conversation as they were led to a quiet corner of the restaurant. He’d obviously asked for somewhere fairly intimate as the table was separate from the booths.
She had learned early on to pay attention to how her dining companion treated others, knowing that the worse they acted, the more likely it was that they weren’t a nice person. She was more than impressed to realise that Clark was not only polite to the host but he was just as courteous to their server when she brought them a bottle of wine.
Was it wrong of her to have wanted Clark to act at least a little less like a gentleman? She supposed it would have made it easier to hate him if he had. The trouble was, despite this being their first date, she found herself liking him more and more.
Damn it!
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Chapter Ten
Clark wanted to show off, even just a little. He’d taken French in high school and the teacher had told him he had an ear for languages. He’d been able to understand Kryptonian since his second year of high school.
He and a friend, Pete, had been dirt-biking out along the trail in Palmer Woods when he’d hit a rock and fallen head-first into what he’d initially thought was a sink-hole. It had turned out to be the roof of a cave which had been weakened by construction going on a few hundred yards from the site.
Those caves turned out to be a major discovery with a strong connection to his heritage. It was there that he’d learned a little about who he was. Thanks to Lex and his insatiable curiosity, he’d come across a metal disc which had fit in his lifepod. Eventually the disc had given off some kind of signal, leading him to the caves where his native language had been downloaded. Ever since, he’d been able to easily learn another language, although he’d stuck to the most well-known ones. The ones with different dialects were not as easy to absorb.
He’d chosen the French restaurant only because he’d spent a little time in France himself, and like his dinner companion, enjoyed the cuisine. He loved Italian as well, but the restaurant he’d taken her to was about as close to authentic French cooking as it could get. The chef had actually trained at Le Cordon Bleu, considered to be the guardian of French culinary technique. Any chef who had trained at the founding school in Paris was bound to be exceptional.
The server gave them time to study the menu. Clark looked at Joanne, wondering how she was faring, since it was all in French. He noticed her frowning a little.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just been a little while since I’ve read French. I’m a little out of practice.”
“I can order for you, if you like.”
She nodded and smiled. “As long as you don’t order Les cuisses de grenouilles or Escargot we’ll be okay.”
He laughed and assured her he wouldn’t order either of those dishes.
“Don’t worry. I spent a couple of weeks in France myself and even I wasn’t that daring.” He looked down at his menu. “Hmm, how about this? Blanc de Poulet farci?”
“Poulet … chicken, stuffed with …” She looked like she was trying to reading the notes under the entry in the menu. “Goats cheese? Okay, that sounds good.”
“How about Crème Brulee for dessert?” he asked.
She nodded. “That sounds perfect.”
When the server returned, he gave their order. Joanne relaxed in her chair, sipping her wine.
“So, you said you spent some time in France,” she said. “Where did you go?”
He’d had to go with Lex for a meeting in Paris, but he’d managed to get in some vacation time as well. He had heard Lana had been staying in Paris and wanted to talk to her but when he’d gone to visit her last-known address, she had already moved on.
He’d had a crush on the brunette in grade school but she’d never been interested in him romantically. They’d grown up one-mile apart. Her aunt, Nell, had owned a house a mile away from the Kent farm but Lana had never visited them.
During their freshman year at Smallville High, Clark had slowly developed a friendship with Lana, hoping it might develop into something more. Until he’d begun dating Chloe.
A few months later, Nell met and moved in with a man who had worked as an insurance adjuster. Dean had been in Smallville to handle claims from those whose properties had been damaged in the tornado that had struck that summer. When Nell had told her niece they were moving in with Dean, Lana had reluctantly moved to Metropolis.
Lex had decided to run for the Senate when he’d bumped into Lana and her aunt at a political rally. He’d later told Clark he’d felt Lana would have been perfect to bolster his image in the eyes of the public. He’d blamed the fact that he lost on his opponent, who was a family man. He’d had analysts tell him that the voters had trusted him less because he was young and single.
It was telling that whenever Lex needed something to give him good PR, he trotted out his son. Clark was disgusted when a local newspaper – thankfully not the Daily Planet, which would never have sunk to that level – had done a fluff piece on Lex and Alexander, written in such a way that it praised Lex’s parenting. The subject of the divorce had been glossed over, the blame laid squarely at the feet of the ex-Mrs Luthor.
As much as Clark had admired the older man in the beginning, there were things he really hated about Lex. He’d had some practice at hiding his feelings, but they did sometimes slip out.
He wasn’t particularly worried at what he’d said to his date earlier. He’d noticed she’d shown a little interest in his attitude toward his boss, but he figured a lot of people didn’t like their co-workers sometimes. Of course, she didn’t know they’d once been close friends, which would have made what he’d said sound a little odd.
As they waited for their dinners to be served, he talked to her about Paris. He hadn’t spent long enough in the city to get much of an impression but she had spent a few months there.
“What do you like about Paris?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“It’s hard to say without sounding, I don’t know, I bit snobbish, I guess. I mean, Paris has its problems like everywhere else. It’s as vulnerable as other cities, especially to terrorism, but you know, there’s this indomitable spirit about the people. Yeah, you get your snobs who think they’re above it all, but then you meet the average Parisian and they … well … Like that terrorist attack they had a few months ago. I read a few of the news reports and there were people saying how tragic it was but it only made them stronger and more determined to band together to drive out hate.
“The other thing I loved about Paris was the history and the buildings. I mean, I’m not talking about the Eiffel Tower. It’s great and everything and it’s a big drawcard for tourists, but you can only see that so many times before it gets boring. There are so many old buildings there and some of them would have been around before the revolution, you know? They have people go in and refurbish them but preserve the old-world look at the same time. The people care about their history. Not like here in Metropolis. I mean, how many buildings in the city can you say are actually as old as the city? Instead you get these big steel and glass monstrosities.”
He knew exactly which building she was talking about. LexCorp Tower was a sixty-two-storey building, constructed from steel and glass. It was barely twenty years old, while its closest neighbour, the Daily Planet building, was at least one hundred years old.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said. “I once visited this castle in England and it had to be at least five hundred years old. I can’t imagine anything like that here.”
The food came out and they focused their attention on eating their meals. Joanne clearly loved it as she moaned in pleasure. Clark almost choked on his mouthful and lifted his glass to sip his wine.
Joanne grinned at him. “Are you blushing, Mr Kent?”
“You, uh, were sounding like …”
Her grin became wider. “Like the deli scene in When Harry Met Sally?” she asked wickedly.
He frowned at her. “Heyyy, I thought you said you hated romantic comedies?”
“No, I said they were cliched. I never said I hadn’t seen any of them. Besides, that scene is pretty famous.”
He swallowed. Why did he get the feeling she was the type to re-enact such a scene, or at least pretend to, just to see if she could embarrass him?
“You know, Smallville, I never pictured you for the shy farmboy type.”
“Smallville?” he asked.
“Well, yeah. I mean, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it?”
He’d forgotten he’d told her that. “But why the nickname?”
She shrugged. “’Cause it’s fun. Besides, what else would I call you? Farmboy? Clarkie?”
He scowled. “Not Clarkie.”
“Is it the ‘ie’ you don’t like? Because you know, you could always change your name.”
“Thanks but I happen to like my name.” After all, his mother had named him the day his parents had found him. Her maiden name had been Clark and it had just seemed to suit, she’d once told him.
“Then ‘Smallville’ it is.”
As they continued to talk over dinner, he began to get that familiar feeling that he knew her from somewhere. While she was great to talk to, she seemed to love yanking his chain by being snarky, teasing him over his background.
Chloe had been snarky at times. When they’d first become friends, it had driven him crazy. She had appeared to love the fact that she could get him riled up over the smallest things. He’d eventually learned how to get her back but it had taken a while.
He wondered if that was part of the attraction to Joanne. She reminded him a little of Chloe.
They left the restaurant shortly after nine. Not wanting the evening to end so soon, Clark decided to take her for a drive up into the hills. There was a lookout close to the observatory where he could park and look at the stars.
She looked at him with a slight frown. “What are we doing here?” she asked.
“I, uh, thought you’d like Clark Kent’s ‘tour of the galaxy’,” he said.
She gave a peal of laughter. “Tour of the galaxy?”
He pointed up at the stars. “The galaxy.”
She stopped laughing, staring at him in amazement. “You amaze me, Smallville. You really are one of a kind, aren’t you?”
He grinned. “They broke the mould when they made me.”
She snickered and turned to look out at the night sky. They were up high enough that the lights from the city below didn’t distract from the sight before them. They sat in silence for a while, just looking up at the stars. Clark began pointing out the various constellations.
“It really is beautiful,” she said. She gasped and pointed. “Shooting star.”
He followed her gaze. He could just see the light from the flaming meteor as it descended.
“You know, the Kawatche believe that a shooting star is the spirit of a shaman, come to warn them.”
“Well, that’s cheery,” she said. “The Kawatche?”
“They’re this Native American tribe that live just out of Smallville. A few years ago, Lex’s father was building this office park and it was making the ground unstable. We found this cave that the Kawatche had been searching for for years.”
“’We’?”
“Me and a friend of mine. Pete. He’s a lawyer in Wichita.” He had been friends with Pete Ross since grade school. Pete's parents had decided to divorce their junior year. Pete had moved to Wichita with his mother. Part of the reason was that he had found out the truth about Clark's secret and hadn't been able to handle it. For a while, his friend had messed around, but had eventually decided to study law.
“Oh. So, I heard Lex’s father died in prison. What happened?”
“He had liver disease. It was apparently too far advanced for a transplant. He had only been in prison about eight months.”
She made a face. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”
He frowned at her. The way she spoke made it sound like she was very familiar with Lionel Luthor.
“You knew Lionel?” he asked.
She balked. “Uh, no, not really. I mean, I read the news story when he got convicted.”
Clark frowned as she turned away. He had the odd impression that she knew far more than that. Something in his gut told him to use his super-hearing.
“Idiot!” Joanne whispered.
Now what the heck did that mean?
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Chapter Eleven
She woke to the sound of someone knocking on her door. Yawning she got out of bed and grabbed a robe before going to answer. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror in the hallway and groaned loudly. She looked horrible. Her hair was tangled and she hadn’t quite got all the make-up off, so what was left had smudged around her eyes, making her look like a raccoon.
The knock came again, heavier this time, as if the visitor was getting impatient.
“All right, all right,” she called, grumbling. She’d been out late the night before and didn’t like being roused this early.
She looked through the peephole, frowning as she recognised the man on the other side, then turned each of the three deadbolts and unlocked the door. She stared at the visitor.
“What are you doing here so early?” she asked.
Bobby smirked at her. “Early? Babe, it’s ten. Ish. I’ve been up for hours.”
She yawned. “Yeah? Well I only got to bed around four. What do you want?”
“You got anything to eat?” he asked, eyeing her before moving past her to rummage through the cupboards in her kitchen. “Seriously? Noodles?”
“I eat out a lot. Bobby …”
“Paydirt!” he exclaimed as he looked through the contents of her refrigerator and pulled out a pot of yoghurt. He dipped a finger in, making her recoil slightly in disgust. “Well, it ain’t quite the good stuff but I’ll let you off. This time.”
“Bobby …” she began.
He looked at her, his gaze sweeping down over her body. She’d barely paused to get undressed when she’d got in the night before, stripping off her pants and dumping them on the floor of the bedroom. She’d been so tired she’d fallen asleep almost as soon as she’d got into bed.
“Nice legs, kid,” Bobby said. She pulled at the edges of her robe, trying to cover herself.
“Look …” She was tired and really not in the mood for banter.
She’d been doing recon at the plant in Smallville. Some years ago she had heard a story that a man who had worked as a janitor had been exposed to some kind of mineral poisoning. He’d taken a few high schoolers hostage and threatened the workers at the plant until Lionel Luthor told the truth about some kind of experiment he’d been running on a level that the billionaire had claimed didn’t exist.
She had discovered that the so-called non-existent level had been used to hide dangerous experiments with people known to have been exposed to meteor rock. The workers on the other levels knew nothing about it, having been told by their employer that that level was now closed.
From what she could tell, those experiments were still going on. Only now, Lex was being more cautious about it. As far as she knew, Clark knew nothing about them. Not that she’d tried too hard to prod him for information.
They’d gone out a few times already for dinner and she’d asked him to go with her to see a film at the local film festival. He’d also gone with her to the theatre to see a play. She hadn’t dared ask him to a monster truck rally, figuring if she did anything that linked her to her old life, he might get suspicious.
She’d slipped up a couple of times, berating herself quietly on each occasion. Clark hadn’t said anything and she wondered if he’d noticed the slips. It worried her. She was normally on her guard, making sure she didn’t say anything which might cause her companion to ask questions. Yet with Clark she found herself relaxing her guard a little.
As much as she hated to admit it, she liked him. He was nothing like she thought he was. She had believed the farmboy charm was an act, but the more time she spent with him, she realised it wasn’t. He really was everything he appeared to be.
The sound of fingers snapping brought her back down to Earth.
“Yo, babe. You awake?”
She scowled at her visitor. “Yes, I’m awake,” she said crossly. “And don’t call me ‘babe’. I hate that!”
“Whatever!” Bobby said with a shrug. “I found someone you might want to talk to. He says he did a couple of jobs for Luthor. Might be doing another one.”
“What’s his name?”
“Schott. But he usually goes by the moniker Toyman.”
She frowned. “Toyman? What’s that about?”
Bobby shrugged again. “He’s got this place. Warehouse of some kind. Filled with toys.”
Well, that sort of explained the moniker, she thought. She became concerned when Bobby went on to tell her that he’d seen the Toyman working on one of those toys, planting what could only be an explosive device.
“So what is he?” she asked.
“Figure he’s some kind of contractor.” Bobby handed her a slip of paper with the address of the warehouse. “Be careful though. Guy’s completely whacked.”
“I think I can handle myself,” she said.
“I ain’t kidding around,” he said. “I mean it. This guy is seriously nuts.”
“I’ll take my chances,” she told him.
If it helped her get what she needed without basically having to prostitute herself, then maybe she didn’t have to involve Clark at all. Maybe they had only been out a few times but she didn’t want to hurt him.
Had she stopped to think about it, she would have questioned why she felt that way. She had gone into this prepared to guard her emotions, to not feel anything. Emotions could get her killed, she had decided. It had very nearly already got her killed.
She still didn’t know what or who had saved her the night the Talon had blown up. All she could remember of that night was a sudden feeling almost of vertigo. She’d stood on the street, dizzy, even a little nauseous, watching the building going up in flames. She’d looked around hurriedly but hadn’t seen anyone. Of course, she knew from her research that there were plenty of suspects with the capability of super-human speed, but without having seen their face she had no way of identifying them.
She’d quickly become aware of cars arriving and turned, running toward an alleyway. She had figured that the best thing she could do was disappear into the darkness. From that moment on, it was better that the world believe Lois Lane was dead. That was why she needed to guard her emotions, she told herself. If she let herself relax her guard for even a second, word would get back to Lex. She just knew it.
Bobby left a short time later and she went to shower. Half an hour later she stood in front of her closet, a towel wrapped around her and secured tightly above her breasts, contemplating her wardrobe.
Just what did someone wear to talk to a psycho-nutjob anyway? she wondered.
She decided on black jeans and a black shirt. It wasn’t exactly her best colour but figured it would make her seem a little more intimidating. She applied fresh make-up, making the lines around her eyes a little darker. It wasn’t quite a Goth look but it did serve to make her eyes look a little more open.
The warehouse where Winslow Schott lived was located about half a mile from the river, among a group of other warehouses. Unlike those, which seemed to be fully in operation, the building at the address Bobby had given her was badly run-down. The exterior boards were rotting and looked as if they had been eaten by termites.
A door was half-hanging off its hinges. Like the rest of the exterior, much of the paint had peeled, exposing the bare boards. She was surprised the building was still standing, given the ferocious storms that tended to blow in from upriver.
She entered the warehouse, blinking rapidly to allow her eyes to adjust to the dimness. She glanced above and saw a few windows, all covered in grime. There were probably only about half a dozen still reasonably intact. The others had all been smashed.
A faint squeaking sound had her looking down and she realised there were rats in the corner. She continued walking through into the main part of the warehouse, refusing to let an old childhood fear keep her from her mission.
Bobby had been right about one thing. There were toys scattered all over the warehouse floor. Considering the state of the room, she was surprised that the toys weren’t broken. There were teddy bears, toy robots and electronic games. What looked like a Newton’s Cradle was sitting on what was clearly a workbench. Various tools were spread around the toy. She recognised one of them as a tool used by munitions officers in the army.
“Oh, a visitor!” a voice exclaimed. The voice was male but had a slightly higher pitch. “I like visitors, don’t you, Ranat?”
She started when she turned and saw a pudgy man with lank, greasy hair holding a filthy rat.
“Ranat?” she asked, watching as the man began petting the rat as if it was a beloved pet.
The man babbled something about an alien rat-like species which were bounty hunters and a brother Ranat chasing a bounty on Tatooine. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, recognising the name of a fictional planet from a movie series. Geek, she thought.
The man stopped petting the rat and stared at her. He stepped forward, reaching out a hand but she stepped back.
“Who are you?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“Oh, but that’s not how you play the game,” he said. “Do you like playing games?”
“No!” she said shortly.
He canted his head, his eyes appearing beady behind blue-tinted lenses, then looked past her at the workbench. He dropped the rat on the bench. The rodent quickly scurried away, dropping off the bench and disappearing in amongst some trash on the other side of the room.
The man, who she assumed was Schott, picked up a teddy bear. She saw some kind of mechanism through a small slit in the toy’s fur.
“The world moves so fast today,” he said, stroking the fur. “People forget how much better they had it as kids. When hours seemed like days and a favourite toy could be a child’s best friend. Toys are powerful things, you know.”
“I’m sure they are,” she said, wondering what he was babbling on about.
“Who are you?” he asked again, turning to stare at her. “Why are you here?”
“I needed to talk to you. You are the Toyman, aren’t you?”
“That’s what they call me,” he said distantly. “I like toys,” he continued, once again petting the fur. “So pure, so innocent.”
Sure, how pure could they be if he was planting explosives in them, she thought.
“Tell me about Lex Luthor,” she said. “Did he hire you?”
“Oh, he hired me,” Schott replied. “But it was my pleasure.”
“To do what?” she asked.
Schott sighed. “I don’t think I want to play anymore,” he mumbled. “Leave now.”
She found herself unceremoniously pushed out of the room. Bobby had been right about the man being a nutjob, she thought. The man kept going on about games and toys, his tone becoming increasingly childlike.
She knew she wasn’t going to get anything further out of him. Looked like she needed to do a bit of research.
She decided to hunker down and wait until Schott left the warehouse. She camped out in an area within sight of the building. Several hours later, the Toyman left, taking a bag with him.
She returned to the warehouse. The building hadn’t been locked, but she figured no one would consider there was anything worth stealing anyway. She began looking around for something to tell her what the man was up to. The Newton’s Cradle was gone from the workbench.
There was another bench covered in a canvas sheet. She picked up one corner of the sheet to look underneath, frowning at the model. She had never visited the building herself, but she recognised what she was looking at. Queen Towers. The building belonging to Queen Industries.
She spied a notebook under the cover and picked it up. Schott had made notes which looked more to her like chicken scratch, but she guessed it was some kind of code. Sighing, she dropped the notebook. As she did so, a photograph slipped from between the pages. Her frown deepened. Oliver Queen.
Now what could the man have against the Star City billionaire?
She left the warehouse and made a call on her phone.
“It’s me. Urgent job. See what you can find out about Oliver Queen.” Stuart sounded confused but promised he would find out whatever he could. She told him to work quickly and call her back when he found something.
Ten minutes later, Stuart called her back, telling her Oliver was in town for some business meetings. Apparently there was some kind of deal he was negotiating and the meeting was taking place at Queen Tower. The hacker added that he had managed to download a file on the same company from LexCorp’s system. It sounded like Lex was interested in the same company.
She ordered Stuart to send an anonymous warning to Oliver and a location on Winslow Schott. She figured Oliver would contact the authorities.
She just hoped she wasn’t too late.
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Things are moving right along! And, with Toyman targeting theKen Doll, that means his gestating sidekick could end up collateral damage 💔. Also wondering how fast the pieces/slips will start fit together for the Farmboy.
That soapbox issue? Preaching to the choir. I agree there are all kinds of reasons why people build shrines to the past and cling to distorted views of people and places. Sadly it usually costs them the opportunities and gifts of present and future. It SO gets old when they keep Clark dragging around leftover Lana luggage. She is not an issue per say. I never thought of the character as being worth all the angst the series credited her with. And while CK of Smallville lore was supposed to be young, they kept him emotionally immature and insecure far too long. Just my take on things and another reason I love when fics allow for healthy growth, maturity, in the characters and relationships. There's obviously a place and use for angst, neurosis and even psychosis. As always though, you can have too much of a good thing 😊. . . *sheepishly dismantles own platform *
Changed my mind about reading both the fic and book simultaneously. Will likely finish Phoenix after this fic and the other two books i have going. Shouldn't take too long. They all reach a point usually, where I am driven to finish. Fics play havoc with that urge with the installment factor. 🙄 On that note thanks again and, as always, I'm on the look out for more cause I'm hooked.Comment
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Don't be too sure about the collateral damage. The Justice League is actually more onto it than you realise and the pieces will slowly come together.
Lana is definitely not an issue in this story where Clark is concerned. Let's just say that, by taking the road never travelled, he has ended up better for it.Comment
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Chapter Twelve
SOS
Clark frowned as the code came through as a vibration on the phone in his pocket, wondering what the emergency was. He glanced over toward Lex, who was holding court at his usual meeting with the LexCorp board. The bald man was talking as if he loved the sound of his own voice, which probably wasn’t very far from the truth.
He excused himself from the meeting, telling the security guard who stood by the doorway with a bored expression that he was going to the bathroom. The guard shrugged disinterestedly and stepped aside, allowing Clark to leave the room.
He walked down the hallway to the bathroom, making sure he was seen by the camera monitoring from the corner and opened the door. He quickly x-rayed the room, making sure it was clear, before pulling out his phone. The code had been followed up with a text message.
Queen Tower.
There was nothing else forthcoming. Clark guessed it was urgent enough that they didn’t want to waste time, or words.
He checked the corridor and made sure the camera had changed direction so it was no longer pointed toward the bathroom door and launched into superspeed. He left the bathroom and blurred up the stairs to the roof of the building before launching himself into the air.
Queen Tower was approximately three blocks from the tower of LexCorp Plaza, which consisted of LexCorp Tower and two smaller buildings flanking the skyscraper. Both smaller buildings housed shops that Lex had leased to various owners. Lionel had bought the buildings twenty years earlier to create Luthor Plaza, not out of any interest in owning retail property but just because he could, according to Lex.
The tower which housed Queen Industries was far less ostentatious. Oliver Queen believed in practicality rather than the whole ‘mine is bigger than yours’ mentality that Lex seemed to revel in. While the tower was a similar construction of steel and glass, its shape was more aesthetically pleasing in the Metropolis skyline. Instead of overshadowing surrounding buildings, it blended in.
When Clark had first met Oliver, the other man had been living in an apartment built within the Metropolis Clock Tower. While it worked well, Clark had found the décor a little too modernist for his tastes. The office in Queen Tower, however, was decorated in warm tones of red and brown, making it feel welcoming.
It also helped that the office was surrounded by a balcony which made it far easier for Clark to come and go.
Making sure no one who didn’t need to be there was around, he landed on the balcony. Oliver was waiting for him, quickly explaining that he was due to have a meeting with the Queen Industries’ board over a proposed acquisition.
“We got a message saying someone may have constructed an explosive device,” he said.
“Who?”
“We’ll get to that. I couldn’t call anyone else in on this. Time is a factor.”
Clark nodded his understanding and began to scan the room. Oliver had decorated the office with a few ‘toys’. He noticed the Newton’s Cradle sitting on the credenza. He almost overlooked it but when he x-rayed he saw a series of tiny electronic panels.
“There,” he said, pointing to the cradle.
“What?” Oliver went to pick it up.
“Don’t touch it,” Clark told him. “There’s wiring inside.”
“How is that possible?” his friend asked. It appeared totally innocuous. A device crafted out of chrome with what looked like ball bearings hanging on thin wire.
As Clark moved to examine it more closely, the ‘toy’ activated by itself, the first ball-bearing apparently moving of its own accord.
“Get back!” he said, shielding the room with his body. Within seconds, he felt the concussion of a powerful explosion. It had clearly been designed to take out the entire room. Had Oliver not been warned and told members of his board to stay away, they very likely would have been killed.
Oliver got up from behind one of the leather chairs and stared at Clark. “Whoa!”
“Whoa is right.” He scanned the room again but found nothing. “Who would be skilled enough to create a bomb out of a Newton’s Cradle?”
“I might have an idea. You should get back to Lex’s meeting. He’s probably wondering where you got to.”
Clark glanced at his watch. It was an old Timex. The crystal was badly scratched and the leather strap had been replaced many times but he refused to buy a new one. It was the watch his father had worn nearly all his life. Hiram Kent had given it to Jonathan on his tenth birthday.
“It’s only been five minutes,” Clark told him. “Less, even.”
“Still, we don’t need Lex asking questions. Go. I’ll contact you later.”
Clark returned to the meeting. Lex shot him a questioning look and Clark put a hand on his abdomen, shrugging at his boss. He had kept up the pretence that he was fully human and prone to the same kind of health problems as anyone else.
The meeting wrapped up a few minutes later. Lex smirked at him.
“I warned you about eating chilli,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Clark returned. The bald man snickered and walked with him upstairs to his office suite.
“How are things going with Jo?” he asked.
“Pretty good, actually. She’s cooking dinner for us tomorrow night.”
“She cooks?” Lex asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“Yeah, she cooks. She’s actually not that bad. We had dinner at my place the other night.”
“Oh, well, that’s great. You two got any plans this weekend?”
Clark shook his head. “Not so far, but I can check with her. Why?”
“I’d like to get to know the woman who’s put a smile on your face. Next thing I know, you’ll be belting out show tunes or something. I’m sure I even heard you humming the other day. At least, I think that was humming. I don’t know. It sounded to me more like a buzzsaw.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Anyway, I’m having a gathering at the mansion this weekend. Bring your lady friend. You can stay there, or at the farm.”
Clark shook his head. Since he had an apartment in the city, he only used the farm when he needed to get away from the hustle and bustle. It would need a bit of work to get it cleaned up and he wasn’t sure if Jo would enjoy staying at the farm for the weekend. They certainly weren’t ready for any kind of intimacy, since they’d only been dating two or three weeks.
“I might take you up on the offer of the bed at the mansion,” he said. “I’m not sure about Jo though.”
“Well, there are plenty of spare beds,” Lex offered. “Let me know.”
Clark nodded and turned to go to his own office. He focused on his paperwork, following up on a few things for his boss, until quitting time. Just as he was packing up for the day, a text message came through with a time and place for meeting with Oliver. As he put away his files, Lex came in.
“I’m heading over to the Ace of Clubs for a drink. Want to join me?”
“Thanks, but I’m beat. And my stomach’s still giving me hell,” he said.
Lex’s mouth quirked in a smirk. “Maybe next time you’ll take my warnings seriously and avoid that chilli. Especially when it’s from the local diner.”
“It’s not like I haven’t had chilli before.”
“Yeah, I know. I remember the chilli your dad used to make. Just about blew my head off.” Lex made a face.
“I never had any problems with it.”
“Of course not. You were a teenager back then.”
Clark frowned. “What are you suggesting?”
“It’s called getting old, Clark. The body can only take so much punishment once it reaches the age of thirty.”
Since Clark wasn’t quite that old yet, he chose to ignore that comment. “’Night Lex.”
He left the building and walked along the street toward the subway, as he normally would if he was heading home to his apartment. He merged with the crowd of commuters waiting for their respective trains but didn’t get on. Instead he made his way to the next street exit and sped away, blessing his quick reflexes that he was able to avoid people coming the other way.
He was confused when he realised the address Oliver had asked to meet him was a warehouse about half a mile from the river. The building itself was run-down and barely habitable.
He looked around at his surroundings, wondering why his friend had asked to meet at this place. The sound of something scraping on metal caught his attention and he whirled, realising the sound had come from behind.
“Relax,” Oliver said. “It’s just me.” He was dressed in green leather, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, a leather hood over his blond hair.
“Why are we here?”
His friend quickly explained that Chloe had not only managed to track the anonymous source, she had also talked him into giving her the location of the warehouse. He’d refused to tell her exactly how he’d got the information about the explosive device and had been unsurprisingly cagey. She had told Oliver she suspected it was the same guy working as a hacker for Phoenix, Inc.
“Chloe thinks we should get the guy to work for us,” Oliver said as he led the way inside.
“Yeah, well good luck getting him,” Clark replied. “So, you said earlier you suspected you knew who might have been behind the bomb.”
“I’ll know for sure once I see what’s behind door number one,” Oliver replied, pointing to a door which appeared to be barely standing. He reached out for the handle, only for it to come off in his hand. He turned to Clark. “You want to lend a hand here, Boy Scout?”
“You know I was never actually a Boy Scout, right?” Clark said, tapping the door with his finger, putting his super-strength behind the tap. The door fell with a crash.
He heard the sound of animals skittering away, startled by their sudden entry. He followed the blond man inside, looking around at the toys scattered around the room.
“What the …”
“Yeah, it’s as I thought. Toyman strikes again.”
“Toyman?”
“His name’s Winslow Schott. He was a genius, child prodigy, whatever. He used to work for Queen Industries but when he began bringing toys to work, turning them into bombs, well, we had to let him go. To say he was pissed off is an understatement. Rumour has it he’s working for Lex.”
Clark frowned. He knew Lex contracted a number of people to do ‘special jobs’ for him, but he had never heard of Schott. He guessed Lex had some secret files somewhere. Looked like he had to go digging.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Oliver told him when he apologised for not having known sooner. “We didn’t even know Schott was back in town. All we knew was what our mysterious source told us.”
Clark started to say something else but froze, his superhearing picking up the sound of someone muttering to themselves as they approached the building.
“Wait here a sec,” he said, speeding out. He watched as a portly man walked to the first door they’d used to enter the warehouse. As soon as the man saw the broken door, he uttered a startled sound and turned, walking away in haste as if a swarm of bees were after him. Clark quickly blocked his way and knocked him off his feet.
Oliver, having heard the commotion, came out and pulled Schott up before the other man had time to recover.
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Chapter Thirteen
She struggled with the heavy sack of groceries, trying to juggle that and get her keys out of her bag to open the door at the same time. She’d promised Clark she would cook him dinner and she had gone to the local grocery store to get a few things. He’d mentioned he loved lasagne and she’d decided to try making one.
She hadn’t always been a good cook. Having lost her mother at six, she hadn’t been old enough to be able to cook meals and her father had relied on the army mess to provide their meals for them. The most he’d been able to cook himself was a steak on the grill, and even that had usually been almost as tough as leather.
When she’d grown up, she’d become so absorbed in her career that she had never bothered learning to cook, using microwave dinners that she could buy ready-made at the grocery store.
When she’d lived with Chloe, her cousin had often teased her for her lack of cooking ability.
However, during her time away from Metropolis, she had lived with a gay guy who had loved to cook and taught her everything he knew about the culinary arts. She had found herself enjoying the process, getting a certain sense of satisfaction in creating a dish that was not only a lot healthier than a microwave meal but far more delicious.
She opened the door to her apartment and entered, putting her groceries down on the island which separated the kitchen from the living area. She began emptying the sack, placing the items on the counter. She carefully pulled out a bottle of red wine and put it aside to open later.
As she started preparing the meal, her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
She couldn’t help the smile as she heard Clark’s voice.
“Hi. How’s your day?” He gave a long-suffering sigh.
“Same sh!t, different day,” he said. “We’re still on for dinner tonight, aren’t we?”
“Yes. You’re still coming by my place, right?”
“Absolutely. Wouldn’t miss it. I could use some decent company after the day I’ve had.”
“You want to talk about it?” she asked, feeling sympathy for him. She knew Lex could be a tyrant to work for and Clark’s friendship with his boss probably made it worse, not better.
“Maybe later. What time do you want me there?”
“If you’re here around six, that’ll give you about half an hour to relax before dinner,” she said.
“Going to tell me what you have planned?”
“You’ll have to wait until you get here,” she told him, grinning as he chuckled on the other end.
“Aww, not even a hint?”
She laughed. “You know better than that, Mr Kent.”
She ended the call, returning her attention to the dinner. She prepared the meat, sauce and the seasonings, putting it all in the pan to cook. The aroma of garlic and oregano filled the room, making her mouth water. Her friend had taught her the recipe, saying she could never go wrong with a good lasagne if she wanted to make a good impression.
She found herself thinking about the things Clark had hinted at with his boss. She had managed to find some old press clippings from a few years ago. There had been one from the society pages of an exhibit opening at the Metropolis Museum, in the Luthor wing. Clark had been about fourteen then, if her calculations were correct. He had posed next to his friend but his expression had suggested he felt like a fish out of water. Lex had at least appeared relaxed, as if he was used to being photographed in such a setting. He looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.
It hadn’t always been the case, from what she had discovered. Lex had developed a reputation for being a troublemaker in his youth. There had been snippets of gossip which painted a picture of him as a hard-drinking, hard-partying type who had once got into a fight in a nightclub known as Club Zero. He’d also spent a few nights in the emergency room at Metropolis General, being treated for alcohol poisoning.
It seemed odd that this pair had developed such an unlikely friendship. They were from two completely disparate worlds. Clark, a shy farmboy and Lex, the cityboy. There had been an article in the Smallville Ledger saying that Clark had saved Lex from drowning but it was hardly a great basis for a friendship that had lasted fifteen years.
As much as she wanted to ask Clark about that friendship, she knew he would get suspicious if she began asking too many questions. She figured that that kind of information would emerge naturally in the course of their relationship.
There was only one problem. The more time she spent with him, the more she liked him. She hadn’t initially set out with any intention of liking him, but there was something about him that made her wish that there could be more. If only he wasn’t working for Lex, she thought.
There had been the night they’d gone to the film festival. He’d escorted her to her door, like a gentleman. She had stood with her hand on the doorknob, wishing the night didn’t have to end. She had enjoyed the film but most of all she had enjoyed the fact that there had been no pressure on his part.
She had dated a guy when she was sixteen. He’d been a senior in high school and had been one of the popular kids in the high school. She had been thrilled when he’d asked her out, thinking that it would help her reputation among her classmates, who tended to shun the new transfers. The boy had taken her to the movies on their second date and wasted no time in doing the pretend yawn and stretch, putting his arm around her shoulders. She wasn’t exactly naïve, but she hadn’t expected him to make such a move on her on only their second date.
Clark had made no such move. He’d been respectful, giving her space and letting her decide how far things went. It was frustrating. She didn’t think he was dense, but she had been sending him signals half the night and he hadn’t seemed to understand.
It wasn’t until she went to kiss him goodnight that it had changed. She had gently touched her lips to his in a soft kiss, only to find him pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. It felt like nothing she had ever felt before. Her body tingled in response to his nearness. She forgot about everything but him for those few moments so that when they parted she felt disoriented. She’d blinked up at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just … I suddenly got this …”
“No, don’t,” she said, grabbing his arm as he made to walk away, obviously uncertain about her reaction. “I liked it,” she added with a little smile.
His answering smile was brilliant, lighting up his face.
Lost in her daydream, she didn’t realise the sauce was almost boiling over the pan until she heard the sizzle as some of it dropped on the hot cooktop.
“Sh!t!” she muttered, moving quickly to turn down the heat and stir the contents of the pan. She returned to preparing the rest of her ingredients and finished making the lasagne, popping it into the oven.
She glanced at the clock on the microwave. It was just after five, giving her an hour to shower, dress and have everything done for Clark to be here at six. She quickly washed the dishes and went to the bathroom to get ready.
Forty minutes later, she emerged from her bedroom dressed in white jeans and an angora sweater in a dusky pink. She didn’t really like the colour pink, thinking it didn’t suit her complexion at all, but would compromise with a darker pink rather than pastel colours.
She switched on the oven to start cooking the lasagne, before turning back to the counter to slice up a baguette, spreading garlic butter on each slice. She wrapped the baguette in foil, ready to pop in the oven. She quickly made a salad and was struggling with opening the bottle of wine when her door buzzer went.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” Clark said. She pressed the button to release the door downstairs.
“Come on up,” she replied.
She abandoned the wine and went to the door to open it, glancing along the corridor. Clark was just coming up the stairs. He was holding a bouquet of a dozen pink roses, almost exactly the same shade as her sweater.
She grinned at him as he approached her.
“Those for me?” she asked.
“Well, I was going to give them to my other girlfriend, but she wasn’t available.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, you’re funny!”
He laughed and gave her a quick kiss hello. “Hi.”
“Hi, yourself.”
She took his hand and led him into her apartment. Clark obviously saw the unopened wine on the counter as he immediately took over with the corkscrew while she put the flowers in a vase.
“Something smells good,” he said.
She didn’t comment as she arranged the roses. “These are beautiful,” she said. “And, look. They even match my sweater.”
Clark grinned as he poured them each a glass of wine. “You know, pink roses are supposed to symbolise grace and elegance. I thought they would suit you. Being that your name means ‘gracious’ in Hebrew. Isn’t that what you said?”
She stared at him, hardly daring to believe that he’d actually remembered what she’d said about the name Joanne. What she hadn't told him was that her mother had chosen it as a middle name for that meaning.
“Well, you’re certainly earning your merit badge, Mr Kent.”
He handed her a glass. “Am I now?” He lifted his own glass and clinked it with hers. “Cheers.”
She lifted her glass to her lips and sipped the wine. It was not as dry as a white wine, with a slightly sweeter note than a merlot. She found herself gazing into his beautiful blue eyes.
It was as if they had the same thought at the same time. Clark took her glass and set it gently on the counter, setting his own down, before pulling her into his arms. He kissed her softly, almost as if he was gauging her reaction. She let him deepen the kiss, tasting the wine on his lips, feeling her own tingle at the light brush of his tongue.
She had once dated a guy in high school who hadn’t known how to kiss. The first time he’d tried to kiss her, she had turned her head so his aim was off and he’d ended up slobbering like a dog over her ear. The second time, it was like he’d tried to eat her face. The worst part was, he was a smoker and it had been akin to kissing an ashtray.
Kissing Clark was different. The man not only knew how to kiss, he also knew just the right way to do so to make her want more.
Somehow they ended up sitting on her couch, arms around each other, still kissing hungrily. She slowly became aware of a ringing sound and realised the oven timer was going off to tell her to put the garlic bread in to warm. She pulled away abruptly, her face warming as she discovered Clark had managed to get one hand beneath the tank top under her sweater.
“Sorry,” she said a little breathlessly. “I just have to put something in the oven.”
Clark looked disappointed as she got up from the couch and went back into the kitchen. She put the garlic bread in and took a few moments to let herself calm down by washing her hands under the faucet.
She chewed on her lower lip, berating herself for getting carried away. As much as she wanted to lose herself in him, she couldn’t afford it.
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We have Toyman, explosions, and now things are beginning to get a little warm and cozy. I'm loving the action. It's so much more enjoyable too, to read mature, confident, Clark. And Lois can cook! Still chomping at the bit for them to really connect with each other as they seem naturally inclined to do so. Awesome updates.Will be on the lookout for more.Comment
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Chapter Fourteen
Clark was mentally exhausted. It had been a horrible day, all told. He had overheard Lex having a tantrum when his boss had learned the Toyman had failed in his mission to kill Oliver. He had been in a foul mood the entire day.
He had been worried that Schott had managed to contact Lex even though he was now in the custody of the Justice League, or rather, the government agency that had put together the League. Clark had no idea where they placed those who had been already taken into custody and were awaiting interrogation. He was aware there was an island upriver of the city, known as Stryker’s Island, which, like Alcatraz off San Francisco, housed maximum security prisoners.
He’d spent half the day wondering if the next time his boss stepped into his office, it would be to accuse him of betrayal. Yet Lex hadn’t uttered a word. The only thing he had done was remind Clark of the weekend in Smallville. Yet his whole demeanour suggested he was angry beyond words.
Clark had been looking forward to the dinner with Joanne. She had been modest about her cooking skills and she would probably wouldn’t be confident tackling the kinds of dishes his mother used to make on the farm. He wasn’t worried about her cooking. He enjoyed her company more.
He found he liked spending time with her. They could talk about anything, even argue good-naturedly about various things. When he and Chloe had been dating, most of their conversations had centred around time spent chasing stories for the Torch, the paper Chloe edited and distributed around Smallville High. He’d often wondered if that was such a good basis for a romantic relationship and he’d once talked to his mother about it.
Martha had grown up in the city, the daughter of a lawyer. Her father hadn’t approved of her dating Jonathan Kent, thinking that she shouldn’t throw her future away over some farmer. She’d told Clark she never really wanted to be a lawyer and that had been her father’s dream.
When she’d met Jonathan, they’d both been students at Metropolis University. She had considered it love at first sight, but despite that, the road to romance hadn’t been easy.
“I suppose you could say it was opposites attract,” she’d told him. “Whenever your father and I got together, all he could talk about was crops and football.”
“Did you ever date anyone that Grandad might have liked?”
“Oh yes. I dated a lot of young men who were future lawyers or doctors, but to be honest, they all bored me to tears. All they could talk about was what was going on in our social circle.”
“But how did you know Dad was the one?” he asked.
“Honestly, Clark, when you’re young, it’s never that simple.”
He didn’t really understand what she meant. Even when she explained that despite how they felt about each other, there were still so many hurdles they had to overcome. Her dad being one of them. She told him that she’d actually broken up with his father for a while.
“Then why did you get back together?”
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about him.”
That was the big difference, he thought as he watched Joanne bustle around the kitchen. From the moment they’d met, he had barely been able to keep his mind on work, thinking about her.
It hadn’t been that way with Chloe. They’d always been friends, but he’d often wondered if they’d only become a couple due to some sort of peer pressure.
Sure, he’d had feelings for his ex-girlfriend. The same as he had had feelings for Lana Lang. He still remembered when it had begun. The whole time his freshman year, he’d been hoping Lana would have taken notice and realised he’d had a crush on her, until he’d basically had a fight with Chloe during the Career Fair. Pete had told him Chloe had feelings for him but he hadn’t known he returned those feelings until he’d seen her talking to another boy.
He’d been hesitant to do anything for fear of losing his friendship with both girls. Lex had given him some good advice, for a change, telling him that unless he took a risk, he would never know for sure.
He could remember that all they’d talked about before graduating high school was how they would one day get married, but after graduation it was as if their lives had gone in completely different directions. Clark had slowly come to the realisation that he wasn’t as heartbroken about it as he should have been if he had been completely in love with Chloe.
Joanne finished whatever it was she was doing in the kitchen and came back to sit down beside him with her glass of wine.
“So, how was your day?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Oh, you know. Nothing too exciting, really. What about you? I got the impression on the phone that you didn’t have a good day.”
“No,” he said. “But it’s better now.”
She looked coyly at him, dropping her gaze. She sipped her wine without comment. Clark decided to bring up the subject of Lex’s ‘gathering’.
“So, uh, Lex is having a party this weekend at the mansion in Smallville. He wanted to know if you would like to come.”
“Will you be working?” she asked.
“No. He usually has his own security at the house.” He chewed his bottom lip, fighting a smirk.
“What’s so funny?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
She poked his shoulder. “Tell me!”
He grinned at her. “Well, if you insist. See, I used to kid Lex about his lack of security at the mansion. I mean, he always seemed to be a magnet for every kind of trouble there was, especially the first couple of years after he moved there.”
Joanne tapped her finger on the glass. “You’d think he’d have better security.”
“Well, he has surveillance cameras, and there is supposed to be a guard on the gate.” He had no idea why he was telling her this, except to explain the joke. The first time he’d gone to the mansion, he’d jumped over the gate and managed to find his way inside without being stopped. As the years went by, even when they hadn’t been friends for a time, he’d still been able to walk in without being stopped by security. As had practically everyone else in Smallville.
“It sounds kind of crazy,” Jo observed. “I mean, a guy who has as much money as he does would need good security.”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’ll understand if you don’t want to go.”
She looked at him. “No, it’s okay. I mean, he did invite me. Where would we stay? At the farm?”
“I was thinking we could use one of the guestrooms at the mansion,” Clark told her. He explained the farmhouse would need some TLC before he could even think about inviting her.
The truth was, he was hesitant about showing her that part of his life. They’d only been going out a few weeks and he figured letting her see that side of him was something that would happen eventually. Just not now.
She nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. So, does Lex hold these parties a lot?”
“Usually when he’s trying to woo a particular business owner,” he told her.
He’d done some checking and learned that Lex had invited someone from Gotham. The man had ties to the Maroni crime family, although on the surface his business looked completely legitimate. Clark wondered if his boss was thinking of joining forces with the Gotham mob. Either that or he was looking to expand his own territory and was trying to get the man on-side. It was a dangerous proposition. The crime families in Gotham were just as powerful as Lex.
The oven timer went off and Jo got up to serve their dinner.
“Need any help?” he asked. He noticed the table was already set for two, with placemats laid down for hot dishes.
“Could you get the salad?” she asked as she donned oven mitts to pull a dish out. He picked up the salad bowl and placed it on the table, watching as she brought out a square ceramic dish. From the aroma coming from the dish, he immediately knew what it was.
“Mmm, lasagne. My favourite.”
She put the dish down on one of the placemats and went back into the kitchen to take what he assumed was garlic bread from the oven. She placed the foil package on a plate and brought it out, sitting it next to the lasagne.
Clark grinned at her. “This looks great.”
“An old roommate taught me how to make lasagne,” she said. “Actually, he taught me a lot about cooking. I’m no Master Chef, but I get by.”
“’He’?” Clark asked, immediately catching that she’d lived with a guy.
She nodded. “This guy in England. Anthony. I met him through the magazine I was working for and he offered me a place to stay for a few months.” She paused and smirked at him. “Don’t worry. He’s gay.”
“I’m not jealous,” Clark replied, helping himself to the lasagne and some of the salad.
“Yeah, sure you’re not,” she returned, laughing at him. He mock-scowled at her and broke off a piece of the garlic bread, pretending to threaten her with it. “Oh, go ahead, Smallville,” she told him. “Like that will convince me you’re not jealous.”
He relented, using the piece of bread to mop up some of the sauce on his plate. He could immediately tell it was all made using fresh ingredients, rather than a packet sauce. It was delicious.
“Well, you’re right about one thing,” he said. “You’re no Master Chef, but I doubt they’d make a lasagne this good on any kind of reality show. Your friend taught you well.”
She smiled. “Thank you for the compliment.” She ate slowly, gazing at him thoughtfully. “Does your mother still live at the farm?”
He frowned at the change of subject, but shook his head. “No. She has a little place in New Troy. She moved there not long after I started working for Lex.”
She had been worried when he’d told her his real reason for taking the job with LexCorp. Mostly because she was concerned his boss might discover the truth about his abilities. She’d always worried about that. She’d once confessed she felt guilty because he’d never had a real birthday party growing up. She’d been afraid that he would somehow reveal his abilities to the wrong person.
He began regaling Jo with stories of growing up on the farm, including some funny incidents he could recall from his childhood until she was laughing. There had been one at the local fair where his mother had been selling her pies. A potential customer had complained the pies were too expensive, saying he paid less in Metropolis and the pies were probably better quality at the bakery.
His mother had seen red. Being a redhead, she was known for her temper. Before his father could stop her, she had walked up to the man with one of her pies and taken a handful, throwing it in his face.
“Now tell me that isn’t better tasting than any pie you can get mass-produced in a bakery,” she shouted at him. “How dare you insult my pies?”
Jo was laughing as he told her the story.
“The kicker is, after he admitted that the pie did taste better than anything he could get at the bakery, Mom said: ‘Good. That’ll be five dollars.’”
“She actually charged him?”
“And he paid it too. My mom’s not exactly tall, but you don’t mess with her when she’s angry. Whenever I did something wrong, she would just send me this look.”
“Oh, I know that look. It’s the ‘I’m going to knock you into the middle of next week’ look.”
“My dad, you know, he had a look too, but it was more, ‘I’m very disappointed’. I don’t know which was worse.”
“I can imagine what it must have been like if they both ganged up on you,” she said.
“Which they did. Frequently. No playing one off against the other,” he replied, laughing.
“Well, I bet you’d have plenty of good examples for when you have kids yourself.”
He nodded, sipping the last of his wine so he didn’t have to answer the last remark. He wasn’t sure if he could have children, since he wasn’t exactly human, but she didn’t know that.
They finished dinner in companionable silence. Jo had bought a cake at the local market and served it with ice cream for dessert.
After the dishes were done, they sat together on the couch, just talking. He wanted to kiss her and see where the mood took them, but wasn’t sure of her reaction. He’d had a feeling earlier that she had been a little unnerved by how intense things had become between them when she’d pulled away.
Maybe things were a little intense, he thought. He hadn’t expected to get so carried away when he’d been kissing her earlier, but he couldn’t help it. He was falling for her.
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Nice character/relationship interaction and building. I like the clarifications' on the past. Was I mistaken or did they agree to share a room at Lex's mausoleum, I mean mansion?😉 Martha and the pie story 🤣🤣 I have always liked O'Toole's portrayal of Martha as classy and gentle with a steel core and a bit of a firecracker when pushed. Thanks for brightening my Monday ☺ As always, more please.Last edited by Sykobee; 10-08-2018, 01:50 PM.Comment
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