"Have you ever considered doing this professionally?" Dick asked, staring in awe at an oil landscape of the Kent Farm at sunrise from the viewpoint of standing on the porch.
"I've considered it," Linda replied, looking a little embarrassed, "but I honestly don't think anything'll come of it."
"Why?" Dick asked. "You're really good."
"You're only saying that because you're my friend," Linda remarked, smiling, " and you're supposed to say I'm good."
"He wouldn't be much of a friend if he was lying, would he?" Linda and Dick looked over as Jimmy approached, holding his camera, smiling a little. "Hey, Linda."
"Hi, Jimmy," Linda replied, smiling.
"You look really great," Jimmy said.
Linda blushed a little. "Thanks," she replied. "You too."
Dick rolled his eyes, smiling. "Oh, brother," he muttered before clearing his throat loudly. "Not to sound conceited, but I think I look pretty good, too." He grinned as the two glanced over at him, looking embarrassed. "Welcome back." He glanced at Jimmy. "Getting some good shots?"
"Hope so," Jimmy answered. "Mr. White threatened to send me up to meet Caesar's ghost if I didn't."
"You should be more confident about your abilities, Jimmy."
The teenagers stiffened slightly as they recognized the voice and turned to see Lex approaching, holding a shoebox-shaped package wrapped in shiny, purple wrapping paper.
"Just like Linda should be more confident in hers," Lex finished, smiling at the young woman.
Linda gave a forced smile. "Thank you, Mr. Luthor," she replied.
"So, still with the last name, huh?" Lex asked, amused. Linda shrugged slightly, but she didn't answer. "Well, hopefully some day you'll feel comfortable using my first name, but until then," he held up the package, "this is for you."
"Uh, why?" Linda asked slowly.
"Well, it's not every day someone your age shows both an interest in the arts," Lex replied, "and the talent to match it." He smiled and shrugged as he handed the package to her. "This is just my way of helping to nurture that talent."
Linda stared at the package for a second before glancing briefly between her friends before she reluctantly accepted the package. "Thank you," she replied. She took a deep breath and carefully unwrapped the package. She handed the paper to Dick before she took the top off the box; she sucked in her breath. "Whoa."
"What is it?" Jimmy asked.
Linda held up a small, crystal jar with a silver twist lid; inside was a rich red liquid. "What is it?" she asked, intrigued.
"A complete set of paints," Lex answered.
"Linda already has plenty of paints," Jimmy said with a slight edge in his voice.
"I doubt she has these particular ones," Lex replied. "These were designed in my lab, with the the base for each coming from a mineral found in this state. The one in Linda's hand is made with red opalite." He watched as Linda unscrewed the lid, taking a closer look at the vivid red paint inside. "What do you think?"
Despite her feelings about Lex, Linda had to admit it was a very thoughtful gift. The color was more vivid that she had ever seen with her other colors. "I think it's really nice," she said as she replaced the lid and put the jar back in the box; she wordlessly handed the box to Dick before grabbing another jar; she removed it and unscrewed the lid to view view deep purple paint inside.
"That's made with fluorite," Lex replied. Linda put the jar back in the box and rummaged around. "I have every color in there, from orange jasper to white marcasite."
Linda pulled out another jar and held it up, He watched as Linda pulled another jar out and stared at the rich, jade-green paint. "What did you use for this one?" she asked as she unscrewed the lid and removed it. She suddenly felt sick and nauseous as she felt her insides tighten and her knees grow weak.
"Meteor rock," Lex replied. He tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows as Linda paled and shook, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. "Linda, are you okay?"
Despite pain resonating through every inch of her body, Linda forced herself to stand upright. She couldn't give Lex any reason to suspect her, but with every passing second she found it more difficult to stay vertical. "I'm…fine," she replied weakly.
"Linda, did you eat the shrimp?" Dick asked Linda as he quickly took the jar and lid from Linda, quickly screwed it on, and put the jar back in the box; he all but shoved the box into Lex's hands before turning back to his friend.
"Yeah," Linda replied softly, playing along.
"You know you have a shellfish sensitivity," Dick chastised as he gently put his arm around Linda's waist. "Come on, you look like you're going to hurl—and, trust me, no one wants to see or smell puked-up shrimp." He looked in the direction where Clark, Bruce, and Oliver were talking; Clark appeared angry, and Dick didn't dare make a commotion in public. He glanced back at Jimmy, giving him a look; Jimmy nodded slightly, unseen by Lex, before Dick carefully guided Linda through the crowd to the bathroom.
"Why would Linda eat something if she's sensitive to it?" Lex asked.
"She really likes shrimp," Jimmy replied, trying to keep a calm demeanor as he stared at the businessman, desperately wishing he could tackle Lex and beat him to a bloody pulp. He glanced over at Clark and the others, then looked back at Lex; the two just stared at each other for a few seconds before Jimmy adjusted his bowtie and pulled his camera strap further up his shoulder. "Here," he quickly leaned over and took the box from Lex, "I'll make sure this gets to Linda when she's feeling better."
Lex appeared amused as he raised an eyebrow. "Well," he said after a momentary pause, "it's nice to know Linda has someone so considerate in her life." He took a step toward the food counter and collided with a young waiter carrying a tray of flutes filled with champagne. The waiter fumbled with the tray, but the glasses fell, spilling champagne all over the front of Lex's tux, before they hit the ground and smashed into hundreds of pieces.
Everyone turned and stared as the mortified waiter pulled his handkerchief from his coat pocket and apologized repeatedly, patting Lex's front. The businessman wordlessly grabbed the handkerchief from the waiter, shooting him an annoyed look, and mopped up some of the liquid on his jacket; the waiter ducked his head as he knelt down and began picking up broken pieces of glass, putting them on his tray.
"Is everything okay?" Oliver asked as he hurried over with Clark and Bruce following.
"I'm not one to criticize others," Lex answered, "but I would seriously look into another catering service for your next social gathering—one that hires waiters with a little more…coordination." He glared briefly at the waiter once more before turning and heading for the entrance; the waiter finished picking up the glass and quickly got to his feet, keeping his head down he hurried into the back room.
"What happened?" Oliver asked Jimmy as everyone went back to their business.
"Not much," Jimmy replied, trying not to smile too much. "Lex turned and bumped into the waiter, but, uh, I wouldn't be so hard on him; it wasn't his fault."
"What do you mean?" Oliver asked. "He didn't just blunder into Luthor?"
"Nope," Jimmy replied cheerfully, "I paid him to bubbly-bomb Baldy." He almost laughed out loud at the disbelieving expressions on the adults' faces, but then he remembered the box in his hands and dropped his voice, looking serious. "Oh, uh, here, these were from Lex to Linda. He said they were all made of different minerals," he all but shoved the box into Bruce's hands, "but I wouldn't open the green one—it has kryptonite in it."
"Where's Linda?" Clark asked, concerned, as he stared uneasily at the box in Bruce's hands.
"In the bathroom," Jimmy replied, noticing Bruce's and Oliver's serious expressions as he pulled his strap up his shoulder. "Dick got her away pretty quickly, but she still looked pretty bad."
Clark brushed past the photographer, making his way through the crowd toward the bathrooms; Jimmy shot one more glance at Bruce and Oliver before following his friend; the two businessman stared at the box in Bruce's hands.
"You think he suspects anything?" Oliver asked quietly.
"Not sure," Bruce replied, his voice low. "I'll have to run tests." He glanced over at Oliver; the businessman's jaw and fists were clenched, his features subtly hardened. "You can't just go off after him—especially not now—then he will suspect her."
"So, we just let him walk away?" Oliver asked quietly. When Bruce didn't respond, Oliver glanced over; Bruce had tilted his head, as if he was listening to something far away. "Bruce?"
"Thanks, Alfred," Bruce replied quietly before turning to Oliver. "You were saying?"
Oliver raised his eyebrow as he finally noticed the nearly-invisible earpiece in Bruce's left ear, and the small black dot on his jacket lapel. "Did you know Lex would show up?" he asked.
"I had a strong suspicion," Bruce answered.
"And you couldn't bother sharing this with me?" Oliver asked, looking a little insulted. Bruce just stared at him, and Oliver sighed. "Whatever. So, what did you find out?"
"Alfred was able to scan Lex's limo," Bruce replied. "The scanner picked up a ring-sized lead box in the back of the car."
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "So, he really has one, huh?" he asked. Bruce nodded. "Well, I say we now have our reason."
"'We' are not doing anything," Bruce replied. "You have an obligation to your patrons," he smiled smugly, "but I have no such commitment." He turned and left Oliver, heading toward the entrance.
"Not fair," Oliver muttered before he headed toward the bathroom.
(End of Chapter 9)
