Lex leaned back in his seat as the limo headed down Route 8 in the direction of the Luthor Manor; he was still annoyed by the clumsy waiter, making a mental note to ensure the young man wouldn't be able to find a job scrubbing floors the next morning. The businessman brushed the thought aside as he stared at the small lead box in his hands for a few moments before lifting the lid. Lex just gazed at the kryptonite ring nestled inside, still mesmerized by the power contained in the small jewel; he took the ring and carefully slipped it on his right ring finger.
The limo suddenly swerved to the right, and Lex went tumbling as the car suddenly squealed to a stop; the businessman growled as he looked up. "Mercy, what the hell is going on?" Mercy didn't get a chance to answer as the driver's side window suddenly shattered, and she was yanked out. Lex heard her shouting and some scuffling, then after a few moments there was silence. "Mercy?" More silence. "Mercy?"
A gloved hand suddenly broke through the sun roof, and glass rained down on Lex; he covered his head reflexively, but a second later the glove hand grabbed Lex's tie and yanked the businessman up. Lex, wheezing and struggling, finally saw his attacker glaring at him from behind a dark rubber cowl.
"You caped lunatic!" Lex shouted, glaring at the vigilante. "Where's Mercy?"
"Taking a nap," Batman replied, his voice low with edge.
Lex glanced to his left and saw Mercy laying on the side of the road, unconscious. Lex turned back to Batman. "You're going to pay for this!"
"You need to get new idle threats, Luthor," Batman said.
"So, now you've resorted to following me?" Lex asked. "What, things getting boring in Gotham without any freaks to deal with?"
"I wanted to make sure your minions weren't around," Batman answered. "You have something I want, Luthor, and I'm taking it—now."
Before Lex could react Batman swiftly reached down and yanked the kryptonite ring off, cutting Lex's finger in the process, before putting the ring into a compartment on his belt; he then effortlessly tossed Lex aside. Lex went tumbling, stopping near the unconscious Mercy. He groaned as he slowly looked up at the limo, and he did a double take. Batman was gone. Lex slowly narrowed his eyes as he growled softly. He loathed when Batman did that—and now he had another reason to despise the Gotham vigilante.
Linda leaned against the tiled wall as she sat on the bathroom floor, breathing slowly; she had finally stopped shaking, but she still looked a little pale and felt nauseous. Clark knelt on her left side, dabbing her cheeks with a damp paper towel, while Jimmy knelt on her right, rubbing her shoulder; Dick held her glasses as he and Oliver stood nearby, watching her with concern.
"You okay?" Jimmy asked gently.
"I hate kryptonite," Linda mumbled softly as she she rubbed the bridge of her nose; it felt like someone was jabbing a sharp needle right between her eyes. "How long does the headache last again?"
"Shouldn't be too much longer," Clark said as he tossed the towel into a nearby trashcan. "The pain gets shorter with every exposure."
"That's comforting," Linda muttered. She slowly breathed in through her nose and her stomach lurched. "Ooh, okay that wasn't such a good idea."
"So, now what?" Dick asked. "Does this mean Lex knows about Linda?"
"He doesn't know about me," Linda said softly.
"How do you know that?" Jimmy asked.
"Because I scanned his mind before opening his gift," Linda answered.
"Why didn't you just x-ray the package?" Oliver asked.
"Because I figured telepathy was a little more subtle than staring at the package like an idiot," Linda answered as she glanced up at him, slightly annoyed. She saw Oliver's concerned expression and sighed, her expression softening. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Oliver replied with practiced calm, while he seethed inside. Lex had never been one of his favorite people, but going after a kid on an apparent hunch crossed too many lines for the archer to count.
The bathroom door opened, and everyone tensed as they looked over, expecting to see a party guests entering—and then causing a commotion at seeing a bunch of men surrounding a lone teenage girl all but laying on the floor. They relaxed when they recognized Bruce—back in his tux—staring at them for a moment before closing the door behind him.
"So, did he have it?" Oliver asked.
"Not anymore," Bruce answered.
"Where is it now?" Clark asked.
"Safe," Bruce replied.
"Which is code for 'Alfred has it until I can get it into the cave,'" Dick muttered.
"Look, I know Lex likes kryptonite because of what it does," Jimmy replied, "but it's kinda starting to border on being a fetish: first a ring, now paints—not to mention the other stuff he's made out of it."
"What about Lex?" Clark asked.
"I started an analysis of the paints before I went after him," Bruce answered, "checked it when I returned. Lex was telling the truth: each of those painted as a base compound of a different mineral native to Kansas—which includes kryptonite."
"I was actually asking about his physical condition, Bruce," Clark said pointedly.
"He'll live," Bruce replied, "but he's going to need roadside assistance," the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, "and an ambulance."
"Please tell me he's going to have to stay overnight for observation," Oliver said hopefully.
"His driver will," Bruce commented, "but Lex will still need to be looked at; may have a few bruised ribs."
"Nice," Oliver replied, grinning.
"You two aren't setting a good example," Clark remarked.
"That's why we keep you around, Clark," Oliver joked.
Clark looked less than amused as he stood up. "And what about Linda?" he asked. "What are your plans for her?"
"'Plans'?" Jimmy asked, confused. "What plans?"
"She's here now, so why don't you tell her?" Clark demanded, glancing between Bruce and Oliver.
"Clark, what's going on?" Linda asked, furrowing her eyebrows as she sat up straighter. "Tell me what?" She stared at Oliver, tilting her head; after a few seconds her expression changed to a look of disbelief. "You were going to hire me?"
"You peeked," Bruce responded, frowning.
"I'm confused," Dick replied slowly.
Linda took a deep breath and slowly got to her feet, groaning slightly from the effort. "Oliver and Bruce were going to buy my paintings," she said, "and then offer me a job as a joint freelance artist for both of their companies." She glared at the businessmen. "Isn't ten million a bit much for a few paintings?"
"Ten million…dollars?" Jimmy asked, stunned.
"Yeah," Linda replied, still glaring at Bruce and Oliver, "and all I have to do is sign a contract saying I'm under their employment." She looked straight at Oliver. "I can't believe you actually looked me in the eye and told me you thought my art was good."
"I really do, Linda," Oliver said sincerely. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but Bruce and I don't have doing this for your protection."
"By treating me like chattel?" Linda asked. She still felt sick, but it was nothing to the anger building inside her; she took as deep a breath as she dared and closed her eyes, calming down a little. "Clark, I wanna go home—and I want all my paintings returned immediately."
"Yeah, we're done here," Clark replied, giving his teammates one last glare before brushing past them and opening the door; Linda walked out, not even bothering to give Bruce or Oliver a second glance.
"I'm coming, too," Jimmy replied in a monotone voice before leaving.
Before heading out, Clark turned to face Bruce and Oliver, his expression serious. "I don't know what you two are really planning," he said, his voice low, "but Linda is completely off limits—and that's not an idle threat." He left without giving them a chance to respond.
Linda quietly walked into the barn the next morning; she wore a red and white plaid shirt, long denim overalls, work boots, and a brown jacket lined with fleece; her glasses were tucked into one of the pockets, and her hair was pulled back in a loose braid. She flipped the lights on before walking over to the bales of hay stacked nearby; she stared at the pile for a few moments before taking a deep breath and effortlessly grabbing the bale on the top.
Without so much as a second thought, she tossed the bale into the loft then blurred up the stairs and caught it in less than a second; she used her telekinesis to snap the wires holding the hay together, then took the individual squares and tossed them into the pile of hay. When she finished, she took the cut wire and carefully compressed it into a small ball before turning around—and almost bumping into Jimmy; she yelped softly in surprise.
"Oh, crap, I'm so sorry," Jimmy said apologetically.
"It's okay," Linda replied, slightly unnerved. "You know, I really can't wait until my hearing kicks in." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "So, what are you doing up this early? It's five-thirty in the morning."
"I heard you leaving," Jimmy replied as he pulled his winter jacket closer around him, thankful he had remembered to pack it. "What are you doing out here?"
"My chores," Linda answered, smiling a little. "This is a farm, after all, and the work doesn't stop just because there's a holiday—or house guests."
"Yeah, but as you pointed out," Jimmy said, "it's five-thirty in the morning." He raised an eyebrow in concern. "You okay? Have you slept at all?"
"Not really," Linda replied, her smile fading before heading over to her area of the loft; Jimmy walked beside her. "I mean, it's not like a need a lot of sleep anyway."
"Yeah, well, powers or no powers," Jimmy said gently, "you need your sleep."
"I know," Linda replied, "but with everything going on lately, I've had a rough time getting a lot of sleep lately." She stopped at the open loft window, leaning against it and staring out; the faintest hint of sunlight peered over the horizon, giving the cloudy sky a gloomy gray appearance that fit Linda's current mood.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Jimmy asked gently as he leaned against the window, beside her.
"Will you promise not to freak out?" Linda asked.
"Of course," Jimmy replied slowly, a little confused. "Is this about last night?"
"No," Linda replied, trying not to sound too bothered; she took a deep breath, collecting herself. "I, uh, I had a dream Saturday night…about the Flamebird."
"Well, with everything that was going on," Jimmy replied, "that's not too surprising."
"It kept repeating 'destiny,'" Linda said, "and then it flew at me, engulfing me in flames—and then I woke up."
"That doesn't sound too different from some of the dreams I've had," Jimmy said; he chuckled softly. "Last year, I'm watching this Japanese monster movie late one night while I'm eating a pizza with all the toppings—I actually had the whole thing before going to bed—and ended up dreaming I was a giant turtle monster." Grinning, he looked over at Linda, who stared at him with a strange expression; his smile faded as he cleared his throat. "Anyway, I wouldn't be worried about it."
"What if I said when I woke up," Linda continued, "I was in the Kawatche cave?"
"What do you mean you were in the cave?" Jimmy asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Exactly what I said," Linda replied. "I woke up, and I was standing in the middle of the cave…and I'm not even sure how I got there." Jimmy just stared at her for a few moments, his mouth open slightly, before he suddenly turned and headed toward the stairs. "Where are you going?"
"To wake your parents," Jimmy replied, "because I have a feeling you haven't said anything to them." Linda blurred over and blocked him from reaching the stairs. "Linda, out of my way."
"You said dreams are funny things, right?" Linda asked.
"This is different," Jimmy said seriously. "You went to sleep in your bed and woke up in the Kawatche cave."
"I'm fine," Linda insisted.
Jimmy stared at her in disbelief. "Explain to me which part of this whole thing is 'fine,' Linda: the weird visions, the dream, or waking up in the cave without any idea how you got there."
Linda sighed, annoyed, as she crossed her arms. "So much for not freaking out." She brushed past him and headed back to the loft window, keeping her back to Jimmy.
Jimmy pursed his lips, setting his features as he walked over to her, standing a few feet behind her. "Look, I know you think you gotta have this whole 'I gotta be strong' thing," he said, his voice laced with calm anger, "but don't get mad with me when I give my opinion about something you don't want to hear."
"Only because you're sounding exactly like everyone else," Linda said as she turned to face him. "You just worried about me being seen—or hurting someone."
"Yeah, you," Jimmy snapped.
Linda stopped and just stared at him, stunned. "Me?" she asked after a few moments.
Jimmy's expression calmed down slightly as he sighed. "Yeah," he said. "If you had caused damage or someone saw you, or you accidentally hurt someone, you would have blamed yourself. I've seen Clark go through it several times," he shook his head, "I don't want you going through that as well." He saw Linda's eyes grow bright with tears, and he sighed, his expression softening, as he approached her; he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her. "Come on, none of that."
"Why is this happening to me?" Linda asked, clinging to him.
"I don't know," Jimmy replied honestly as he pulled back to look down at her, "but we'll figure it out; I'm sure your family—"
"Can we not tell them just yet?" Linda gently interrupted.
"Linda," Jimmy said, giving her a look.
"I'm not saying never," Linda said. "I'm just saying they worry about me enough as it is," she shrugged, "and maybe they won't if we figure this out on our own."
"'Our own'?" Jimmy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Linda nodded. "I'm sure the two of us working together might be able to come up with something." She gave him a pleading expression. "Please?"
Jimmy sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Okay, okay," he finally said. "I'll keep my trap shut—for now."
Linda smiled gratefully. "Thank you," she said.
"Yeah, yeah," Jimmy muttered, trying to sound mildly annoyed; he saw movement outside the loft window and squinted—then he slowly smiled when he realized what it was. He gently grabbed Linda's hand and led the confused girl to the window. "Look." Linda looked out and sucked in her breath as she saw the tiny flake swirling around in the bright gray of the first morning light.
"Snow," she said, a smile spreading on her face as she stared out, seeing the world getting blanketed in white. The young girl slowly stuck her hand out, feeling the feathery flakes brush against her bare skin. She sighed and leaned against the open window, watching the flakes dance in the sky as they made their way down. Jimmy propped his arms against the open window beside Linda, staring at her; he saw the glimmer of wonder and awe in her eyes, and the photographer allowed himself a small smile.
(End of Chapter 10)