The Hottest Team in Town: 2/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
"I'm having dinner with Lex Luthor," Lois said.
"You're kidding! Lex Luthor?"
"Lucy, it's an interview," Lois said. "I've been after the first one-on-one interview with him for months. You know that. He's sending a car for me at eight, so I'd better start getting ready. I'll probably be out late. I'll try not to disturb you when I come in."
"Oh, you won't disturb me," Lucy said. "I won't even be here. I've got a date, too."
Why was she surprised? "How long have you been in town?" Lois asked.
"Since this afternoon," Lucy said. "I called Greg for a ride from the airport, and he asked me out to a party with some of his friends, tonight. I'll probably be back by three or four."
Lois restrained the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm going to take a shower."
**********
And now, Part 2:
Approaching his apartment from the air, Superman, as he always did, checked his place of residence before coming in through the bedroom window to be certain that there were no witnesses. Judging by the nosiness exhibited by his apartment's manager, it was possible that the man might be snooping around the premises just to check up on his newest tenant. He didn't want to burst in on him unexpectedly as Superman and give the man something to really think about.
It was a good thing that he had taken the elementary safety measure, he was thinking, a few split instants later. His apartment did indeed have a visitor, although it wasn't Floyd McDavitt. In fact, it wasn't anyone he'd ever seen before, and he certainly didn't have any business in Clark Kent's home.
He was a teenager, dressed in mismatched and somewhat ragged garments, and was moving quickly and quietly around the apartment, collecting every small item of value that he could lay his hands on, depositing each one in a big, paper bag. A petty thief, Clark decided. Quickly and quietly, he landed on his balcony, changing to Clark Kent as he did so, and stepped into the apartment.
The boy heard him and, faster than Clark expected, darted out the door and ran. If Clark hadn't been able to move literally faster than a speeding bullet, the young thief might have escaped. As it was, he intercepted him at the corner.
The boy tried to jerk away, but Clark held on, careful not to hurt him. On closer examination, he saw the kid was skinny as if he hadn't eaten well for some time.
"Hey! Take it easy! I won't hurt you!"
The teenager must have realized that he wasn't going to be able to break free, because he went suddenly still in Clark's grasp. Clark removed the paper bag from his hands. "This belongs to me," he said, quietly.
His captive stared sullenly at him. Clark kept a hand on his arm, looking him over. He might be fifteen or sixteen, Clark judged, and still had some growing to do. He wore a thin T-shirt and battered jeans, and in spite of the winter weather, his only concession to the cold was the flannel shirt that he wore over them. Clark's eyes narrowed as his super-hearing picked up the sound of his stomach growling. It might have been a while since the boy had eaten.
"You gonna turn me over to the cops?" The sullen, swaggering tone was a cover, he realized suddenly. In the question was fear.
"What's your name?" Clark asked.
The boy didn't answer. Clark looked at him, thoughtfully. "I probably ought to turn you over to the police," he said, and heard his captive's heart rate speed up. "Why don't you tell me why I shouldn't?"
"Come on, mister! You got your stuff back. Why don't you just let me go?"
Clark stared at the smudged, dirty face. The kid's cheeks were sunken, and his stomach growled again.
"When did you eat last?" he asked, suddenly.
"Why do you care?"
"Look, if you answer me truthfully, I might let you go," Clark said, meeting his eyes squarely. "Lie to me, and I'll hand you over to the police without another word. When did you eat last?"
The boy looked down at his shoes. "Yesterday."
"Where are your parents?"
The boy glared angrily up at him. "You don't want to know about my parents. They dumped us when --"
"'Us'?" Clark said. "There's somebody else?"
"Mister, you gotta let me go!"
Clark stared at the boy, frowning. "What's your name?" he asked again.
"Jack! Are you happy, now? Come on ..."
"You're watching out for somebody, aren't you?"
"My brother! If you turn me over to the cops he won't have nobody to look after him!"
"Where are you going?"
Jack's expression closed up. Clark regarded him for a long moment, and he could tell the boy was holding his breath. "Okay," he said, finally. He reached in his pocket and extracted a business card. "Look, here's my phone number. If you need help, call me."
Jack accepted the card and stuck it in his back pocket. Clark hesitated and removed his jacket. "Put this on. You're freezing." At the other's hesitation, he thrust the jacket into his hands. "Here, it's yours. And take this. Get yourself some food." He followed the jacket with a twenty-dollar bill. "Go on."
Slowly, Jack accepted the money, a wary expression on his face. Clark released his arm and stood back. "You're free to go."
Jack cast him another confused look, turned and ran.
In an instant, Superman was in the air, watching the fugitive from above. The boy ducked down a littered alley, emerged onto a back street, and a few moments later was squeezing through a broken door into an abandoned building.
"Jack?" He could hear a younger voice speaking, and his former prisoner's voice replied.
"Yeah, it's me. How're you feeling, Denny?"
"Better. Is there anything to eat?" The voice belonged to another boy, this one about twelve or thirteen, he thought.
"Yeah. I'm gonna get something. You stay here and I'll be right back."
"Okay."
Floating silently a hundred feet in the air, Clark watched as the teenager squeezed out the door again, his destination obviously the nearest fast foot establishment. He waited, watching the younger boy until Jack returned with a hamburger and fries for both of them, then he turned and headed back to his apartment. He probably should alert the police to their presence, he reflected, but that seemed almost like a betrayal. He'd keep an eye on them, he decided, and try to figure out what he could do to help -- without involving the authorities, at least for the moment.
A glance at the clock on one wall, when he walked into his apartment, told him that Lois would be on her way to Luthor's penthouse within twenty minutes. Quickly, he returned the pilfered items to their places and locked the doors and windows, although that seemed not to have done much good in the case of a petty thief like Jack. Seconds later, he was on his way to hover unseen above 1058 Carter Avenue. Lois wasn't going on her dinner date alone.
**********
The dinner was delicious, Lois thought. Not that she would have expected anything else, considering the help that Lex Luthor could hire. She wondered where her partner was. Glancing out the big picture window at the lights of Metropolis far below, she somehow knew that Charlie wasn't far away, although she had seen no sign of him since he'd left her apartment, a couple of hours ago. It was almost as if she could sense his presence somewhere nearby.
The winter sky was clear tonight. The light pollution hid all but the brightest stars, but a half-moon shone down with milky brilliance. Now and then, a little shower of snow, blown from the roof by a gust of wind, fell past the window.
The billionaire was smiling at her across the table, his face illuminated by the flickering candles. She smiled back. "The view is wonderful from here, Lex."
He nodded. "I often eat in this spot, looking down at m ... the city. All of the people ... all the possibilities ... It's an awesome thought sometimes, even for me."
"All the people or all the possibilities?" she asked.
"Both." He regarded her with a quizzical expression. "I find people fascinating. The potential of every human being for good or ill. You, for instance ... I've read your work. I envisioned you quite differently, you know. I realize now that I fell victim to mundane stereotyping. It astonished me to discover that you were the Lois Lane who has established such a formidable journalistic reputation. It has certainly taught me a lesson I shan't soon forget."
"And what was that?" she asked.
"That age is not necessarily a prerequisite for wisdom, nor does youth automatically preclude brilliance. I've read more of your work since we met at the Christmas Ball. I must admit that I'm thoroughly impressed."
"Thank you," Lois said. "A lot of men don't seem to understand that." She took a sip of the delicate white wine that accompanied the last course. "Tell me, what drives a man like you? What do you strive for?"
"Ah, yes. The interview." He leaned back in his chair. "Pleasure, Ms. Lane. The pursuit of pleasure."
"Really?"
He too sipped the wine. "Does that surprise you?"
"I would have guessed that you'd say 'power'."
"Power is a means, not an end." Luthor leaned forward. "Those without power know very little pleasure."
"And achieving power gives you pleasure?"
"Exactly." He nodded. "Very astute of you. Not many persons realize that. I see I chose well in agreeing to let you interview me."
"I've seen your unauthorized biographies, of course," Lois said.
"All five of them?" Luthor said, with a smile. "Let me tell you something, Ms. Lane. Every one of them had it wrong."
"Oh?"
He reached forward and took her hand. "I know that to you, I'm merely a scoop, another feather in your cap. You wanted an interview, and I understand that. I rarely agree to interviews. I made an exception for you." He paused and his smile widened a little. "And not for the reason you might think. Not because you are a beautiful young woman. That wouldn't speak well for either of us. Very well, let me tell you about the man, the real Lex Luthor." He leaned closer. "My talent in life is not making money, or juggling companies. It's character assessment. I sense things about you. Possibilities. Potentials. You have the intelligence, spirit and vision to transcend the mundane." He paused. "And just so there are no misunderstandings ... you are beautiful."
Lois smiled a little and lowered her eyes in automatic response to his words. Any woman would be charmed by the compliments he was paying her, and he would expect no less. Lex Luthor was incredibly smooth, she thought. He had undoubtedly hired an assassin to kill her a few days ago. If not for Charlie, she would have been dead, but here he was, flattering her and flirting with her. And it was up to her to let him think that she was completely deceived.
The slender dark man who had served their dinner approached. "Would you care for dessert?"
Lois shook her head. "No, I never have dessert."
"Never?" Luthor raised an eyebrow.
"No."
"You don't know what you're missing," he said, clearly implying something other than part of the meal, but he didn't press the point. "Shall we walk on the terrace for a few minutes?"
Lois hesitated. "I need to get home to write up my interview for tomorrow."
"Just for a few minutes," Luthor said with a smile. "It will be warm enough. I have heating lamps set up there for my convenience."
"Well ... all right." She let the servant pull back her chair and stood up. Lex Luthor took her arm, guiding her toward the French windows that gave onto the terrace.
He'd been correct, she saw, as they emerged out into the open. The air about them was comfortably warm. In the background, soft music began to play, and Luthor bowed formally to her. "May I have this dance, Ms. Lane?"
She nodded, and let him sweep her into a waltz. It had a dreamlike feeling, as the billionaire guided her around the terrace under the stars. He smiled down at her. "I read your other interview of the week, you know."
"My other interview?"
"Yes. With the newest resident of Metropolis. The mysterious Superman spoke to you, although no one else has been able to get more than a few words from him. I knew when I read it that you must be unusual, and I must admit that it influenced my decision to allow you to interview me."
"I was just in the right place at the right time," Lois said.
"Is he as powerful as they say?"
"I was there when he stopped that bus and saved all those people from being killed," Lois said. "He's promised me a longer interview when he has the time, so maybe we'll learn more, then."
"The very concept of a 'super man' fascinates me," Luthor said. "Where did he come from, what drives him ... I shall look forward to seeing that interview. I'm quite certain that if there is anything more to learn about him, you will learn it."
"I'll certainly try," Lois agreed.
The billionaire said nothing more, but continued to lead her around the floor until the last strains of the waltz died away.
**********
Contrary to her expectations, Lex Luthor accompanied her back to her apartment house and walked her to her door. She was sure that Charlie -- Clark, she reminded herself -- wouldn't approve of the kiss he gave her before she went inside, but it was necessary for the part she played. Once the door closed behind her, she listened, and faintly heard his footsteps as he retreated down the hall. She scrubbed a hand across her lips.
"I think he was fooled," Clark's voice said from the direction of the window.
She almost jumped. "Char ... Clark, you scared me!"
"Sorry." He parted the curtains and stepped fully into the room, closing the window behind him. "So, what did you think of him?"
"I think he's the slickest con man I've ever met," Lois said.
"So do I," Clark said. "At least, I don't think you're in danger from him anymore ... as long as he keeps on thinking that he's got you fooled."
"Let's hope not," Lois said. "It really cramps my style when people are trying to kill me."
He moved up close to her, glancing at the spare bedroom. "Is your sister here?"
"Lucy? She has a date, tonight. She said she'd be back around three or four." She rested a hand on his shoulder for balance and bent to remove her shoes. "I've been dying to get these off for hours. My feet are killing me."
He glanced at the items in question. "How do women walk in those without spraining an ankle, anyway?"
"Is that really what you want to talk about, right now?" she asked.
"Not really." He took the shoes, set them on the coffee table and tugged her toward the sofa. "Wanna neck?"
She grinned. "Why, Mr. Kent, I thought you'd never ask."
**********
(tbc)
