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Church Of Metropolis: Mayson Drake
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He didn’t know. Had no clue--how could he? His partner seemed to pretty much take him for granted, the owner of the restaurant being threatened hardly knew him, and if Lois Lane was any indication, he was probably taken for granted at the Daily Planet too. So who would have told him that he was just…just incredible?

He smiled that shy smile, uncomfortable and surprised and nervous all at once, and she wanted to reach out and touch it. Just to see if it was real. Just to let a little bit of that innocence rub off on her.

“I’m just telling the truth,” he said, “there’s nothing too brave about that.”

She didn’t want to just touch him; she wanted to protect him. How long had he been living in Metropolis? She knew from the forms they’d filled out that he was from Smallville, Kansas, but here he was, reporter for the biggest paper in the largest East Coast city, and still just as naïve as the day he’d arrived. How had he survived this long? What kept him from picking up the same dirt and deceptiveness and cynicism that everyone else was coated in?

She’d been like that once. When she’d first started, an intern working her way through college, dreaming big dreams of justice for all the oppressed. She’d planned to help and serve and better the world. But now here she was--assistant DA, sure, but not much room for advancement because she wouldn’t go into the backrooms, wouldn’t engage in the politicking. Or at least, she told herself she didn’t, but she hadn’t gotten to where she was without learning to look the other way when it was most important.

“I’m just telling the truth,” he said, as if that wasn’t amazing all on its own. As if it really was as simple as that.

From the moment she’d seen him, Mayson had liked Clark. He was handsome and earnest and friendly, and those were all things that were rare enough in her world. But this, here, tonight, sitting next to him and laughing at his tentative jokes and trying to prepare him for what Snell would throw at him, she realized she more than liked him.

She could love him. Very easily. Too easily, maybe, and maybe she was moving a little fast, but she didn’t dare leave him out in the open where anyone else in this city--the thousands of scheming, ambitious women who nonetheless were just as lonely as Mayson--could snatch him up.

Her phone number, a private meeting to go over the deposition, sliding her jacket off--something she’d never done around any of the men from the courtroom and law offices--and still she hadn’t known exactly what she wanted with Clark. A few dates, a night or two, some fun out on the town? But none of that was good enough, not for him.

She wanted him.

So much darkness in this city, all selfishness and greed and vice and lies, and in the middle of all that, here was Clark Kent, shining like a beacon. Humble and sincere and good. For so long she’d felt like she was drowning in the murky waters of law, just biding time until she slipped and went under to join the rest of the sharks. Surely no one would begrudge her for reaching out to the last sliver of humanity in sight and hoping it would save her from the dark.

“There’s nothing too brave about that,” he said, but she thought he was quite possibly the bravest man she’d ever met.

So she would be brave too. She would reach for him, and hope he caught her before she drowned.

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