The weather was a chilly twenty degrees, but the Saturday morning sun shone brightly, as if it was the middle of summer. Inside Linda's bedroom, the young girl stared intently at the mishmash of different clothes, hats, and other assorted items piled on her bed.
"You keep staring like that and you'll burn holes through everything—literally."
Linda smiled as she looked over and saw Clark leaning against the doorframe, holding a large ceramic coffee mug with 'Allons-y' on one side and 'Geronimo' on the other; it was filled three quarters of the way with hot chocolate and a huge dollop of whipped cream. "Gotcha some cocoa, just the way you like it." He headed over to her, handing her the mug. "Figured the mug would help with your decision making."
"Thanks," Linda replied as she took the offered mug and took a long gulp of the hot liquid; she wiped the whipped cream from her upper lip. "Unfortunately, this is something that even hot chocolate might not be able to help with. I mean, we're talking about the fiftieth anniversary episode of Doctor Who—it's an important day."
"Yes, the 'Day of the Doctor,'" Clark replied in a mock British accent.
Linda held out her hand and her sonic screwdriver flew through the air into her hand; she pointed it at her cousin in a mock threatening manner. "Do not mock the Doctor in my presence, sir, or I shall be forced to teach you a lesson." The two stared at each other for a few moments, then laughed.
"So, you're really having trouble finding something to wear for tonight?" Clark asked. "I mean, I understand you and Jimmy want to wear costumes, but why don't you go as the one you dressed up during Spirit Week?"
"Because Jimmy wanted to go as Ten," Linda answered as she put her mug and screwdriver on her desk.
"So, what about the other one?" Clark asked.
"Because Cutter liked being Eleven so much at the party that he asked to keep my fez and bowtie," Linda answered, "and I couldn't say no to that." She stared at her clothes, pursing her lips, when Krypto bounded in, barking loudly. He skittered to a stop at Clark's feet, staring up at the reporter, tail wagging, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.
Clark leaned over and scratched the puppy behind his ears, then he glanced over at Linda, who was grinning as she rummaged around in the pile of clothes. "Something tells me you've made your decision."
Linda pulled out a long hand-knitted, multi-colored scarf—wrapping it loosely around her neck a couple of times—then put on a brown, floppy fedora she grabbed from the top of the pile. She held her hands out, smiling down at her cousin. "What do you think?"
"I think you've gone a little colorblind," Clark replied, amused.
Linda grabbed her mug and quickly downed the rest of her hot chocolate; she smacked her lips, grinning before she held up her mug so Clark could see the words on the bottom of the inside. "As Nine would say," she said, "'fantastic.'"
Later that afternoon Clark sat at his desk, staring intently at the police report in his hands. He didn't normally come in on weekends, but Perry had insisted he and Lois take the case, so Clark hurried (aka flew in from Smallville), promising Linda—ten times—before he left that he'd bring Jimmy over later that night.
The reported sighed as he leaned back in his chair, rereading the details of the case: a local politician had been found in his office, shot through the heart. Nothing new—Clark had, unfortunately, investigated several homicides throughout his life—but what disturbed him about this particular case was the murder weapon itself: a large toy soldier, holding a tiny revolver designed to fire tiny—but deadly—bullets.
"Schott," he said softly.
"Unfortunately."
Clark looked up and saw Lois as she walked over. "Hey," he said as she leaned over and kissed his cheek before sitting on the edge of the desk. "Any special reason for that?"
"Because I was hoping you'd take me out to dinner tonight?" Lois suggested, smiling.
"Can't tonight," Clark said apologetically. "It's the 'Day of the Doctor.'"
Lois groaned. "Oh, yeah, that," she said. She knew about Jimmy and Linda's plans, and how Clark had promised to help chaperone. "I had mercifully forgotten about that until now."
"Unfortunately, Linda won't let me," Clark joked, smiling.
Lois smiled a little. "My condolences."
"So, the reporters are now comedians," Jimmy said, smiling slightly, as he walked up to the desk with a stack of photos, his camera bag slung over his left shoulder. "I'd personally stick with your day jobs."
"So, Perry roped you in as well?" Lois asked, smiling.
Jimmy shrugged. "Guess so," he said, "and I got quite a few shots, too." He handed the photos to Clark, and Lois leaned forward to get a better view. "Couldn't get anywhere near the crime scene, obviously, but I did manage to get a few shots of one of the items the police carried out: a large toy soldier holding a pistol. Also heard some of the cops talking. They're saying it's Toyman." He glanced at Clark briefly, who glanced briefly at him before looking back at the photos.
"There's a name I was hoping I'd never hear again," Lois muttered. "You know I can't even look at a teddy bear anymore because of that guy."
"At least you can blink around a teddy bear," Jimmy pointed out.
"I told you never to make reference to those things in my presence, Olsen," Lois warned him.
"Hey, I warned you not to let that be your first episode," Jimmy said, "especially alone at night."
"And that is why I don't watch that show," Lois replied, smiling, "and I still think you and Linda are both nuts for liking it." She stood up and headed for the vending machines.
"You know, you're never going to convince Lois to like the show," Clark said, amused.
"I know," Jimmy answered, "but it's still fun ribbing her." He glanced at the reporter as he stared at the photos intently. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Clark replied, "just trying to figure out what Schott's game is this time." He glanced up at Jimmy, "and don't get any ideas about looking into this any further."
"What?" Jimmy asked, looking innocent.
"Jimmy, Schott's dangerous," Clark replied seriously, keeping his voice down. "He killed five people last time he was in town—and that was before he used you and Lois as bait to get to me."
"Yeah, but you gotta admit the giant spider robot was actually kinda cool," Jimmy, smiling a little. He glanced down and saw Clark's unamused expression; his smile faded. "Okay, okay, I get it. Leave the psycho to Superman."
"Thank you," Clark replied, smiling a little. "Now, switching subjects, Linda wanted me to remind you—again, for the fiftieth time—not to forget the 3D glasses."
"I got them at the apartment next my costume," Jimmy said. He saw Clark's expression and smiled. "We know the TV's not in 3D, Clark; it's the principle of the matter."
"I'm not saying anything," Clark said, "I'm just chaperoning, and that's all I'm planning on doing."
(End of Chapter 1)