Chapter 23:
Metropolis, 1993
"Shut up. You did not."
"Hand to God. I saw him myself."
"You're a big fat liar."
"No! It's true! You wouldn't believe how much food the guy could put away."
Cue the eye roll, as expected. "Whatever, Kansas."
Clark grinned broadly. He loved that eye roll. “Anyway, then Tommy got up, half in the bag, and said—”
"Lane!" Perry's harsh voice made them both startle apart, then feel silly for doing so. It's not like anything was going on between them. Or so Clark told himself. "What in the Sam Hill are you still doing in here when there's thirty things out there I want to know about that tights-wearing miracle? Come on now, get!"
"I'm not a dog, Perry. You have to at least say please."
He leaned down carefully beside her, speaking in a hushed tone with a shy, teasing smile on his lips. "Now darlin', you know I love you. And you could never be replaced... but I'm only half-teasing when I say that whoever gets me the next scoop on Big Blue gets your desk, all right?"
"All right. Geez. I'm on it."
Perry smiled softly and moseyed on past, scouting out his next target. Clark wryly smiled after Perry, happy to see him with some bite in his bark, and much less whimpering. He scooted aside a millisecond before Lois had to push him as she stood up and collected her things. Clark turned his focus back to the woman at hand. "Mind if I tag along? I haven't had a chance to see the guy up close yet. It'd be pretty awesome."
"You do know there's no guarantee I'll find him even, right?"
"Oh, I don't know. You usually find some sort of danger any time you go somewhere. I like my odds." He held out her coat for her and took a split second to luxuriate in her scent as she turned into him briefly.
"Fine, your loss. You can— thank you— follow if you want. Just—"
"Don't get in the way. I know the drill by now, Lois. Top banana, right?"
She wagged a finger in his face smugly. "Always."
Clark suppressed his full grin, trying to push down the weirdness that bubbled up inside him at the mention of an always with Lois Lane. She spun on her heel, barely giving him a second glance and completely oblivious to the maelstrom of emotions she sparked inside his chest.
Oh.
His stomach sank even as his heart fluttered. This was feeling. The realization struck him like a slap across the face. He was actually feeling something for this woman— this captivating, brilliant, sexy, confident woman with hair that smelled like cherries and—
Stop that.
That wouldn't do at all.
A passing fascination was one thing. A flirtation, an affair, another way to get under Lex Luthor's skin. But feelings? A relationship? A real one, where two people just did things with each other for no real rhyme or reason... That wasn't something Clark had ever imagined for himself. Too risky to be in the cards for the boy with a chip on his shoulder and a plot for revenge. Maybe Nigel was right to warn him. He probably could use some distance. Maybe a business trip could come up, and he could take a week to clear his head, remind himself of his priorities.
"Hey, you coming or what, Kansas?"
He snapped his gaze up to her face and plastered on a fake smile— a smile which became real as soon as he met her eyes. His stomach somersaulted again and his brain tossed all thoughts of distance out the window as he hastened to catch up to her. "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming."
*****LnC*****
Nigel St. John was a man used to following orders. He'd served his way up through the ranks of the British army, worked for many years as a successful MI-6 operative. He was a good soldier. Up until his mentor had betrayed him in the field, and that was it for him. He'd gotten good at being on his own, in charge and doing jobs on his own terms. When things got too hot, he'd miraculously ended up working with a credible, well-reputed billionaire who let him lay low for a while. Luthor knew a little about Nigel's past— perhaps not all the treason and an exact body count— but enough to not ask questions. And over the years, he'd really come to appreciate his boss.
Which was why Nigel found his current predicament so difficult.
He rifled through his desk drawers, trying to find something marginally offensive but not too incriminating on Clark Kent to hand over to Lex Luthor. He couldn't go back empty handed, or the man would know something was off. Nigel grimaced at the lack of options. He supposed he could give him something about his business dealings. He knew he couldn't give him any actual, criminal evidence. But something about how he'd started out his company, maybe how he'd found a diamond mine in South Africa and sold it, or before that how he'd gotten a start by cheating his way through the ranks of a gambling ring over in Hong Kong.
Unscrupulous, but unimportant.
A twinge of guilt kept badgering Nigel's mind, though. Clark Kent had given him the chance to get back in the game. He had been itching for something more to come across his plate for years when he'd met the young man. Kent had offered him sanity as opposed to Luthor's sanctuary. He had need for both, at one time or another. It had started innocently enough. He always suspected there would be a time when the job would get difficult.
He hadn't expected this. Spying on Lex for Kent. Spying on Clark for Luthor. It wasn't sitting right. Eventually, he'd have to choose. It would become too hard to balance otherwise.
But then again, it could provide a bit of fun in the meantime. It had been ages since he'd last been a double agent. Triple agent? He smiled. That was the way to look at this. An adventure. A private mission of his own.
Plus, a little insurance probably wouldn't hurt. Kent seemed to be going off-book more and more lately. He wouldn't be cut out of any future plans if he could help it. Nigel St. John refused to be made expendable.
The gambling thing wasn't half bad. He grabbed an article he'd found from way back when he was first researching Kent and went to see how much ground that would buy him.
*****LnC*****
Clark felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins like never before. What a rush! He ran a hand through his hair, mussing up his locks out of the gel-like hold that his alter-ego wore. It was all he could do to keep from laughing aloud. Of course, that would draw attention to himself. And Lois was just turning and walking over to him. He injected a skip into his step almost unconsciously as he rushed to her side. "Lois! Are you okay? Oh my God, that was amazing!"
"Yeah, real amazing. Where the hell were you?"
Clark's eyebrows jumped and he put on his best shocked face. "What? I turned my back for one second to call the police and you were gone! Are you seriously okay?"
She brushed past him with a vague wave of her hand. "I'm fine. Geesh. Clingy much."
Clark rolled his eyes. He just wanted to make sure she hadn't caught onto him yet. She didn't need to be rude about it. "Okay, just making sure before I start bragging about how I finally saw the Man of Steel. You know. No big deal."
Lois snorted derisively at him and walked past. "Yeah, not a big deal at all. I was flying through the air with the guy, but you got a glimpse. I'm so thrilled for you."
"Whatever. I still think it's cool," Clark huffed and crossed his arms, trying to keep the smile from twitching at the corners of his lips while he pretended offense.
Lois finally cracked a grin at his reaction, and he let loose his smile too. "We should probably be getting back. We've got a story to write now."
He shuffled a few steps to catch up to her again as she walked to the curb to hail a taxi. "Did you get a quote? Maybe he'll swing back around."
"Easy, cowboy. I doubt that's the last you'll see of him."
"Ooh, cowboy," his eyes darkened in a flash, "I like cowboy. Why can't you call me cowboy more often?"
Her laugh was like a beautiful melody. "Oh, Kent. Pretend all you like, but you're more farmboy than cowboy. And farmboy is from Kansas." Clark groaned half-heartedly, darting his eyes to watch the amusement on her face as she laughed at him. "Come on, let's go."
He gestured for her to lead the way across the street as she flagged down another cab, providing him with ample opportunity to watch her skirt sway back and forth as she sashayed away from him. He had to bite his cheek as he slid into the cab behind her.
The drive went by in an amicable silence. Clark didn't give their heading a second thought until he noticed them passing the turn for the Daily Planet and instead turning towards the bay. His forehead creased and he pushed his glasses up his nose. "Uhm, Lois? Where exactly are we going?"
"You think I'm stupid? I'm not going to blab about a story lead back there in front of all those tv reporters with their ridiculous cameras. I break the stories, I get the scoops. And I don't do that by waiting around for the story to come to me."
Clark's frown deepened, genuinely confused. "I don't understand. What happened? Did I say something wrong? Did... he... say something? Something suspect?"
She looked at him like he was an alien… "Yeah, Kansas, he told me he had Elvis' lovechild. No, no one said anything to me, not outside the ordinary."
She was certainly giving him whiplash, with all her sarcasm and smiles and conjectures. He had to keep his head from spinning, reminding himself that he did not, in fact, say such things. "Then why are we heading towards the docks?"
Lois paused, evaluating him with a very keen eye, and seemed to come to a satisfactory conclusion. "Because. I don't know who or why, but somebody is trying to test Metropolis’ new hero."
*****LnC*****
Central City
Ronnie leaned his head back on the couch with a sigh and a grin, resting his eyes for a minute. Man, it felt good to be home. He turned his head to take in the sight of his girlfriend hard at work, sitting cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. He loved this woman. She was so beautiful, and smart, and quick, and--
“Ronnie, quit looking at me like I’m a steak and you haven’t had a decent meal in weeks.”
His grin widened. She didn’t even look up as she said the words-- somehow, she just knew. Maybe she could feel his eyes on her as she took notes on a notepad and turned back to look at the layout of the seating chart. She was even more adorable when she was in planning mode like this. “I’m not looking at you like that. I’m looking at you like a lonely prisoner who hasn’t seen a woman in weeks.”
Her eyes cut to his with a playfully stern glare. “Quit it.”
“Hey, I ain’t doin’ nothin’ babe.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of that. Were you planning on chiming in with an idea or two at some point?”
Ronnie shrugged. “Nope. I trust you. I’ll follow you into the great unknown.”
“I’m trying to not go there.”
His lips twisted into a sad sort of smile, and his heart tugged. Now wasn’t the time for heavy conversations, but he still couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back to that fateful night. “I like your hair. It’s closer to your normal color again. Although not to say I didn’t like it blonde.”
She rolled her eyes and kept working. “You would.”
His head lolled back against the couch again, boredom overtaking him with a groan. “Come on. Can it be break time? Let’s take a break.”
She leveled him with a patronizing stare. “You can’t call it a break if you haven’t started working.”
“What about…” his lips twitched, the promise of raising her ire once again filling him with glee. “What about a quickie?”
Her eyes were smokey, lustful even, when she turned back to him, and he licked his lips. He was one clever line away from her mouth on his—
A flash of color on the muted screen pulled Ronnie’s attention away suddenly, and he sat up more fully, a pit forming in his stomach. “Holy mother of—”
“What?”
He didn’t respond right away, instead leaning forward to stare at the figure actually flying across the screen on their tv set. All previous thoughts were abandoned now. His heart pounded heavily, his mouth suddenly dry.
“Ronnie, what is it?”
His eyes were riveted to the crest emblazoned on his chest amongst the stains of debris from the explosion, a hint of confusion marring Ronnie’s brow. “I think I know that guy.”
She followed his gaze and looked at the screen, and a laugh escaped her chest. “You do not.”
He swallowed thickly. “I do. I really think I do.”
“Ronnie, this is a hoax.”
“No. It’s not. I- I’ve seen it before. Kinda.”
“Boy, you will do anything to get out of work, won't you?”
Ronnie leapt to his feet and over the edge of the tattered corduroy couch. He ran over to the bookshelf, rifling through the odd mix of books and trinkets… largely trinkets. Neither of them were much for reading. “Where are you,” he murmured anxiously.
“Ronald, what's going on? What's so important about this guy?”
He flipped open a dusty wooden box and yelped with glee, reaching in to palm the item carefully. He turned back to his girlfriend with a grin. “There's always gonna be another banquet to map, another heist to plan.”
She flipped a lock of her reddish brown hair over her shoulder and looked on with interest. Ronnie tossed her the small glass sphere, which she was quick to catch and she ran her palm over it carefully. He quirked his lips into a grin.
“There's only one Kent.”
