Chapter 8:
Clark sat there staring at the clock, tapping his foot nervously, begging for time to move faster. In the back of his mind, his mother’s voice echoed that a watched pot never boiled… but he’d literally never seen the second hand tick by so slowly. He huffed and ran a hand over his face. He’d hardly gotten any sleep last night, but he was wired already. He’d forced himself to stay in bed until the sunrise, but it was still too early to go into the Star.
Today was a big day. For the first time in a long time, he felt like things were finally turning around for him. Lois agreed to meet with Bernie, he was starting a new job in his field, at a respectable paper, and most importantly, he was going to see his daughter today. His stomach fluttered, and he debated changing once again, but that would be silly. He’d already tried on every outfit he could wear to work, but somehow it just didn’t seem to be enough for seeing his daughter again-- for the first time, deliberately. Meeting her had been a happy accident. This time he was wracked with nerves.
The clock finally struck seven, and he launched to his feet.
He forced himself to take the longest route possible to work, briefcase in hand, detoured for a quick coffee and breakfast, and he still ended up in the bullpen before eight o’clock.
This morning was a completely different environment from yesterday. The newsroom was energized, buzzing, hints of a story being pieced together, and chills ran down his spine. It might not be the Daily Planet, but it was the biggest paper he’d ever worked at, and the excitement of it all made him grin. He walked over to Mr. Carpenter’s office and, on not seeing the man’s assistant, knocked on the open door. “Mr. Carpenter, sir?”
“Kent! Good, you’re here.” He waved him in, and Clark stepped over the threshold with nerves jangling in his stomach. “I’d like you to meet someone.” He glanced over to the honey-blonde woman seated across from Carpenter’s desk and gave her a polite smile. “This is Linda King, one of our top reporters at the Star.”
Clark nodded and held out a hand for her to shake. “Clark Kent. I’ve seen your articles in the paper, Ms. King. Very nice to meet you.”
She looked down the bridge of her nose at his outstretched hand and shook it limply. “Likewise.”
“You are going to be shadowing Ms. King for a week or so, until you get your bearings.” Clark looked up at his boss in surprise but nodded along. “So she’s going to show you around the office this morning, get you situated, but your main project for today isn’t until tonight. Lex Luthor’s White Orchid Ball.”
Clark’s pulse jumped with excitement. “Lex Luthor? The philanthropist?”
“There’s only one Lex.”
Clark glanced over to his mentor to see her picking at her skirt disinterestedly-- clearly she had better things to do than meet the third richest man in the world, a man whose philanthropy and technological advances were known the world over. He tried to cover his enthusiasm, act like he’d been there before, but it was Lex Luthor. He had all sorts of questions for the man, and although he likely wouldn’t give a rookie like him a second glance, one could dream.
“Rumor has it he’s got some big announcement to make tonight, so it’s not just a society event. Hence why I’m partnering you with Linda.”
Clark nodded eagerly. “Sounds perfect. What time is it?”
Linda finally spoke up. “We’ll meet here at six o’clock and ride over together. And make sure you’re dressed the part… You do have a tux, right?”
“Of course,” he lied defensively, cataloguing where he could go to find one in his short amount of time between Lois’ appointment and the Ball tonight.
“Great. Make sure it’s pressed.”
He smiled at Linda and nodded again, getting the distinct feeling that she didn’t like the idea of being partnered with him.
“Alright! Get out of here, you two. I expect to see two separate articles from each of you on the ball, first thing tomorrow morning.”
Clark gestured for Linda to exit ahead of him, and she rolled her eyes as she uncrossed her legs and slinked past him. He followed her at a close pace. “So, uh, what are we working on this morning?”
She scoffed at him. “We? Not we. I have an interview lined up at EPRAD about the explosion-- you get situated at your desk. I don’t need you until six o’clock.”
Clark squirmed uncomfortably. “I, uh, okay. Where’s my desk?”
She shot him a dirty look. “It’s over there, in the society corner.”
“I’m sorry,” Clark stopped short behind her. “Did I do something to offend you?”
Linda sighed quite loudly and turned on her heel to face him. “Look, Kent, it’s nothing personal. But I’ve had to work my pants off to get to where I’m at here, and you just waltz in with a couple of articles under your belt and get handed a job? You don’t know what I’ve had to go through to get here.”
Clark felt his stomach twist up. “I’m sorry, Linda. I didn’t mean to… encroach on your job or anything. Mr. Carpenter said there was a position open with the society pages, I didn’t think he’d partner me with you. Of course you’re above me on the totem pole, I know that, trust me.”
She softened a little, stance relaxing as she dropped her crossed arms. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault. Preston’s just… Preston.” Clark smiled at her warmly. “Besides, it’s only a few days until you’re up to speed, and you’ll be on your own, writing columns about the hottest clubs or the biggest parade going on downtown… So I don’t mean to be hostile.”
Silently, Clark wished he could be writing bigger stories than that, but he understood he had to work his way up, and he wasn’t about to bring that up to Linda right now. He’d let his work speak for itself. “Can we start over?”
She smiled at him, genuinely this time, and held out her hand for a real shake this time. “Hi. Linda King. City Beat. Graduated fourth in my class from Met U, and not to brag, but I’m one of the few top female reporters in the business.”
Clark shook her hand firmly with a grin. “Clark Kent. Society. Graduated University of Kansas. I’m just starting out in the field, and I’ve recently become a father.”
“A father, huh? How sweet. Boy or girl?”
Clark beamed and adjusted his glasses. “Girl. She’s a sweetheart.”
“I’ll bet she is. And is there a Mrs. Kent out there? I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
He blushed hard, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. “I, uh, we’re, uh…”
Linda threw her head back on a laugh and patted his arm. “Oh, Kent. You should have seen your face. Trust me, I’m out of your league.”
Clark swallowed hard and managed a dry laugh, trying to beat back his blush. “Well, uh, that’s a little about me. Anything else you need to know?” She smiled and stopped at an empty desk in the corner, tapping it twice. His reactions were a little delayed after the whiplash she’d just given him, and she looked at him pointedly before he realized this was his desk. “Oh, thank you. Sorry.” He slid his briefcase onto it carefully, knocking the mouse and waking up the computer.
“I.T. will be by at some point today to get you set up with your own username and login, but for now you can just use the guest account. The password is password, except the s’s are dollar signs.” Clark nodded along, trying to play it cool as she threw information at him as fast as possible. “You might have to go down to the I.T. department to make sure they do it today, because if they don’t do it today, it’ll take forever for them to get to you, and you really don’t want to wait on getting set up. You’re also going to have to go downstairs to HR to have your picture taken and get your press badge. You’ll need it before tonight. And I’m also guessing that you don’t really have a tuxedo, do you?”
He gaped at her. “How did you--?”
“Kansas boy? Come on. You can’t fool a Metropolis native.”
He shut his mouth, a little miffed and a little impressed. “I’ll get one by tonight, I promise.”
“Then you better hop to it.” She tapped his desk one more time and walked away.
Clark shook his head. This was all so weird, but first days were always weird, he supposed. Linda was at least… well, nice wasn’t exactly the word, but he’d earn her respect. He glanced at his watch, and hunkered down. He had just about three hours to get a lot done.
And then he’d get to see Havana again.
The morning flew by with Clark running up and down to different floors, signing paperwork, getting turned around, and signing more paperwork. He’d started to worry he wouldn’t make it on time, but at twelve on the dot, he rounded the corner to S.T.A.R. Labs.
Only to find that Lois was the late one. Clark frowned and checked his watch again. Quarter after. He debated going inside and giving her a call at her home or work, but figured he’d give her five more minutes. He hoped she hadn’t chickened out. Clark fidgeted with his glasses, because she wasn’t wrong to be hesitant. She’d gotten nothing but bad news after bad news from doctors in the past, and even he wasn’t sure Bernie could actually help. It was a long shot. The best he could do was hope, but he couldn’t expect Lois to do the same. In her position, hope was poison.
She rounded the corner finally, and his heart leapt in his chest at the sight. A smile split his face, and he waved nervously. “Hi.”
The little girl skipped half a step ahead of her mother, brown curls bouncing in the bright sunlight, dragging Lois along by the hand, and his chest fluttered again. “Hi!”
“Slow down, Havana,” Lois chided. The girl slipped from her grip and shuffled the last few steps over to Clark on her own. She jumped up at him, and he caught her in his arms swiftly. Lois seemed irritated as she approached, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be anything other than ecstatic.
“I didn’t expect to see you here! How are you, Havana?”
“Good!” The girl chirped with a toothy grin, a lock of hair caught across her face. Clark chuckled and gently brushed the hair from her cheek, adjusting her on his hip. He was awed that she remembered him, that she was so comfortable with him already, even not knowing who he was to her.
“So, my babysitter fell through. Clearly.” Lois griped, catching her breath. “I was hoping Lucy would make it early since she's watching her later today, but apparently she switched shifts in order to make that happen, so we have a stowaway today.”
“An adorable stowaway,” Clark corrected, and the girl giggled and turned away shyly.
“So I figured, two birds, one stone. You wanted to see her anyway, right?”
“Of course,” he looked to Lois with a genuine smile on his face, trying to reassure her. She looked nervous, but whether it was for the appointment or him spending time with Havana, he wasn’t sure.
She looked at him pointedly and gestured at the entrance. “Well? You ready?”
Clark pursed his lips, deciding her attitude was just a result of her anxiety, and didn’t comment on it. Instead, he smiled at his daughter, currently engrossed by a pigeon hopping around over his shoulder. “Absolutely. Come on, let’s go meet Bernie.”
The elevator ride up had no room to be awkward, not with Havana's arms wrapped around his neck and her blabbering some story about a girl in her class playing princesses... or at least, that's what he thought she was saying. It didn't much matter what it was about, it mattered that she trusted him, that she liked him so much that she felt she could tell him something she cared about. “And then what happened?”
She giggled again, eyes crinkled from her grin. “Juice went all over!”
Clark laughed at the unexpected ending, thinking she must have missed something in the middle, but it was somehow better this way. He glanced over at Lois, a ball of anxiety in the corner of the elevator, but even she'd cracked a smile at their daughter’s story. The elevator dinged, prompting Havana to chirp in response, and they exited the elevator hesitantly together.
This would make or break their future together.
Clark knocked on the door to Bernie's lab rapidly, but the man took his sweet time getting to the door. Lois looked about ready to bolt by the time the door swung open and Bernie poked his head out. He did a double take at the sight of Havana, but brushed past it quickly. “Clark! Come in, come in. Welcome. And you must be Lois.”
Lois gave the shorter man a small, uncomfortable smile as they walked past him and he sealed the door behind them. Clark gestured to the girl in his arms. “This is Havana. Havana, you want to say hi to Bernie?”
She was giving him the same suspicious look as her mother, and tightened her grip around Clark's neck. “No.”
Bernie laughed, amused by her honesty, and Clark looked at his daughter in confusion. “No? He's just a friend of… friend of mine.” He glanced at Lois hesitantly, almost slipped up there.
Havana pursed her lips and shook her head again.
“It's okay, Clark. It's a good thing. Stranger danger and all that.”
Lois finally found her voice. “So, Dr. Klein…”
“Oh please, call me Bernie. We're practically family.”
Lois smiled at him coolly, and Clark walked Havana around the room with a bounce in his step to keep her occupied. “Bernie. How did you get to know Clark? It seems like you're not exactly a pediatrician.”
He laughed. “Oh, heavens, no. Clark's pediatrician and I were good friends though-- we went to school together-- and when Clark was seventeen he ran into some Kryptonite. His doctor didn't know what was happening to him, and I was in Kansas City for a conference, so I helped out. And the rest, as they say, is history. I've been managing Clark's health and abilities ever since.”
Lois furrowed her brow. “Kryptonite?”
“It's a radioactive piece of meteorite from Clark's homeworld, Krypton.”
“So… if you're not a doctor, how are you supposed to help me?”
“I am a doctor. My fields of expertise are astronomy, biology, and being the world's foremost expert on Clark Kent over there.”
Clark smiled softly at Bernie's story.
“So tell me about your illness.”
Clark glanced back at Lois nervously, waiting for something to go wrong, but she didn't react to the word at all. Instead, she turned and pulled a hefty stack of papers out of her purse and set them on the table between Bernie and herself.
“I do love some light reading material,” Bernie quipped.
“Some of my files. I've been to twelve different doctors, so I really think this visit is just a formality.”
Bernie nodded sympathetically, but Clark blanched. “Twelve? You've been to twelve doctors?”
She glared at Clark, and Bernie frowned disapprovingly at him. He shut his mouth with a click and Havana giggled at him again. He glanced at the girl in his arms, tried to smile for her sake, but his stomach twisted into a knot.
“Clark, maybe you want to show Havana around a little? You can show her your… what do you call it? Your fortress of solitude?”
“Bernie!” He whined, glancing furtively at Lois. Her eyes seemed to be laughing at him.
“Sorry, Kent. Doctor patient confidentiality. So unless you want to go exploring around S.T.A.R. Labs and you promise not to eavesdrop…”
Clark scowled at the doctor and huffed a little. “Come on, Hana. We know where we're not welcome.” He strode briskly over to the door leading to the little room in the corner and closed it behind him. The room was instantly filled with silence.
“Where’s Mama?”
Clark smiled and walked the little girl over to the lone window, and pointed her out. “She’s right there, don’t worry.”
“Hi, Mama!” The girl waved manically with a big grin. Lois’ eyes landed on them and she smiled and waved back. Clark’s heart skipped a beat for a brief moment, before it filled with a heaviness he wasn’t sure he could handle. She loved her mother so much. He loved Lois, even if he couldn’t say that.
And she’d seen twelve doctors.
“Can I get down?”
“Hmm?”
“Down.”
He smiled sadly and put her on the ground. “Down you go. But we have to stay in here for a minute, okay?”
“Kay.”
Clark looked around the room for something to entertain her, but looking at the room from a child’s eyes cast it in a new light. In particular, a disappointing one. To be fair, he didn’t ever need much of anything when he was in here, besides a good book or two, and most often he just laid down on the cot and caught some sleep. The room was completely soundproofed and lead-lined, so he couldn’t see or hear anything out of it. Even the blinds were leadlined, and the window soundproofed as well. It was peaceful, and it provided a nice space for Bernie to examine him in neutral circumstances, or to bounce back after exposure to Kryptonite.
It wasn’t much for entertainment.
“Wha’s that?” Havana pointed at the stack of books in the corner.
“It’s some of my books.”
“‘Tory?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “Lots of stories. You want to hear some?”
She debated his question with great ponderance, before chirping out her answer. “No.”
Clark decided to make the best of his time with her, and sat on the cot pushed against the wall. “No? Why not?”
She glared at him suspiciously and then glanced at the cot. “Not bedtime. I don’t wanna ‘tory.”
He laughed through his nose. “Okay. What else?”
“Wha’s that?”
He followed the direction of her finger as she pointed over at the sunlamp in the corner. “It’s a lamp.”
“Wha’s that?”
He started to get where this game was going and smirked at the inquisitive girl. He turned toward the metal stool in the opposing corner. “That’s a chair.”
“Wha’s this?”
He glanced back at her and his stomach formed a pit. He spun around and reached out very carefully, holding out a hand gently. “Here, let me see that, Havana.”
“Ball?”
“Nonono, it’s not a ball,” he corrected, heart in his throat. He knew he was fast enough to grab it if she dropped it, but fear gripped him still. He wanted to share that with her someday, but not today, and if she smashed it… “It’s a globe.”
“Not a ball?” Her brow furrowed in confusion as she examined the smooth glass globe more closely.
Clark had half a laugh caught in his throat, the sound being smothered by frustration. “I’ll show you how it works if you give it to me.” She debated again for what felt like an eternity, and Clark held his breath.
“Okay.” She shuffled over to him quickly and put it in his hands. Clark breathed a sigh of relief and let his eyes flutter shut momentarily-- not long enough for the rambunctious girl to get herself into any other trouble. He brushed a palm over the surface, relieved, and the globe started glowing beneath it. Havana gasped, eyes wide with amazement, and she leaned in close against his knee to stare at it closely. Clark felt his heart thrum, and stared at his daughter and her big brown eyes with some amazement of his own. He gestured to the green and blue glowing pattern growing beneath his hands. “See? It’s like a map, but it’s round. It’s Earth.”
“Whoa.”
The colors started shifting, as did the continents and the patterns of the light. Her eyes grew another two sizes it seemed, and she reached out to touch the shapes gently as they moved. The red replaced the green, and Clark smiled wistfully at the planet.
“Kr… Kiptawn.”
He shot his gaze to his daughter with a pull in his chest. “What?”
She looked at him, a little puzzled. “Kipton?”
He could feel the pulse of his blood in the tips of his fingers where they rested against the globe. She couldn’t… she didn’t know what she just said. “Krypton?” he asked, making sure he heard what he thought he heard.
She smiled and nodded, like she was proud he’d got it right. “Yeah. Ker… Kipton.”
Clark swore in the back of his mind. He hadn’t thought she’d be able to hear that. He thought maybe the globe had originally delivered the message at a decibel only he could hear, but he might have been off on that. Maybe it was a telepathic connection. A connection his daughter had, too.
“Wow.” He wasn't sure what to say. She didn't have any powers yet, although she didn't get hurt easily, but this was just… wow.
The light from the globe faded away and the door swung open almost simultaneously. Bernie poked his head in. “Okay you two, you can come out now.”
Havana grinned at him, the globe seemingly slipping by the wayside already as she jetted out after her mother. “Mama, mama!”
“Sweetie, don't jump!”
Clark moved to the doorway and leaned uncertainly against the door jamb, keeping a careful eye on Havana. Lois soothed a hand over her left arm, revealing a bandage where Klein must have drawn blood. Havana seemed drawn to that spot as well, and Clark smiled as the girl kissed her “owie” to make it better in what appeared to be a heartbreaking ritual. He turned to Bernie again, voice in an undertone. “So you got enough of a sample to work with?”
“Hopefully. Several vials. Make sure she eats something before it gets too much later, I don't want her passing out. Oh, which reminds me. I'll need a sample from you as well.”
Clark blanched and made a face. “What? Why? I mean, of course, I'll do anything to help, but I'd really rather not go through any Kryptonite exposures on my first day of work--”
“Krrip tawn!”
Clark smiled over at the girl as Bernie cleared his throat uncomfortably beside him. “Not that kind of sample,” he muttered.
He darted his gaze back to the doctor, and he deposited a little plastic cup in his hand. Mortification rushed his system, and he could feel the heat of his blush in the tips of his ears. “Bernie!” He hissed.
“What? I've never thought to run that test before-- you've never been in a serious relationship before-- and it's the fastest way to disprove my working theory.”
“Clark,” Lois’ voice cut in seriously. “Did you tell her about Krypton?”
“No! Well, kinda… She found my globe and heard the name and--”
“You do realize she repeats everything, right? She's practically a parrot.”
“Well… no, I didn't realize. But it's not like the word means anything to her or anyone else.”
Lois frowned at him and clicked her tongue, but brushed past it for now. “Well, we better head out. If you wanted to come with, we could stop for a s-n-a-c-k or something…”
Clark furrowed his brow before realizing why she was spelling the word instead of saying it. “Oh! I'd love to, really. But Bernie needs to run a few more tests on me still, and I have to run to back to work--”
Lois nodded understandingly. “Say no more. I get it.”
“I want to,” Clark interjected. He shrugged loosely, and realized he still had the sample cup in his hand. He blushed furiously again and tucked it behind his back, glancing up just in time to see the mirth shining in Lois’ eyes.
“I know,” she stated simply, brushing a hand over Havana's messy hair. “We’ll do something again, maybe this weekend?”
Relief flooded him. This was good. She wasn't shutting him out. She was making a peace offering, she was making plans. As long as she was reaching out to him, he'd be there, ready and waiting. Any time he got with his daughter, he'd appreciate. And any time he could spend with Lois... well, that would be an added bonus. He grinned at her. “That sounds great.”
“Break a leg, okay? Have a good first day at work. You'll have to tell me about it this weekend.”
His stomach flipped, and his eyes crinkled, because it was finally, slowly, starting to come together. “It should prove to be an interesting night. I can't wait.”
Havana waved and chirped her goodbyes, and when they left, he'd never felt so alone.
