Repercussions
Clark was not having a good morning. He had offered to let Dr. Fate crash at his apartment because they were friends and that's what friends do. When one was in trouble the other helped out. It was how his parents raised him. In the days that followed he had learned to regret his generosity.
It wasn't the fact that Fate snored. Clark could have handled that if that was the worst problem. His parents sometimes seemed to compete with each other when it came to snoring. Fate was a distant third by comparison. It was some of the other problems that were getting under his skin.
For one thing, the helmet of Nabu tended to drift. It had wandered into the bathroom while Clark was in the shower at least twice that he knew of. Even going so far as to try putting itself on his head one of those times. He had learned to keep his bedroom door locked after waking up to that eyeless yet penetrating stare two days in a row. And it had wondered over to the apartment of Mrs. Cravitz, his next door neighbor, last night via the balcony. Marking the first time Clark was glad for medicinal marijuana. If the old woman hadn't been high, the sight of a floating helmet trying to put itself on her head may have given her a coronary. Fate explained that the helmet felt his emotional imbalance and that was why it was drifting. And the attempts to be worn by others were its way of trying to get different perspectives in an attempt to understand the situation. But the explanation didn't exactly make the problem easier.
Fate's collections of spell ingredients and magic snack foods were another item on the problems list since they had found their way into Clark's pantry. His spaghetti sauce acquired interesting colors, flavors and textures when he mistook powdered hen's teeth and dragon root for garlic and oregano. Not entirely unpleasant once it decided to stop being furry, but not what he expected of the Kent family recipe. The effects it had on his digestive track were also not what he expected and made him glad Fate could enchant Pepto-Bismol.
Then there was the mystic's idea of a party mix which was more diverse, and possibly alive, than Clark was comfortable with. And he didn't even want to know what strange substance got percolated in his coffee maker this morning. In fact he was going to make his friend buy him a new one. A top of the line model with the all the fancy settings and a big price tag.
These weren't even the tip of the iceberg though. He gave an involuntary shudder and tried not to think of the other problems that rooming with a magic user had brought into his life. Or the complaints he'd gotten from some of his other neighbors, and not just on his floor, when some of Fate's projects got away from him. (Mrs. Ochmonek was already suspicious of Clark on general principal.) Instead he tried to focus on the problems he was about to deal with as he made his way to Lois' apartment with a box of her favorite doughnuts and two cups of coffee. Yesterday's discovery of Superman's "son" had clearly upset her. Which probably lead to a drinking binge and while Clark couldn't drink with her until the accidentally enchanted spaghetti sauce was fully gone from his system he knew what she would be wanting the morning after. Which was hot coffee, someone else providing breakfast, and someone to talk to about what was bothering her. The fact that she would be in no shape to drive this early and would need to ride with someone in order to get to work didn't hurt either.
There were times he resented the fact that Superman was her love interest while Clark Kent would probably never be more than a friend to her. And then there were times like this where being her friend, possibly her best friend, was the better deal.
He knocked on the door and waited. Picturing in his mind the image he would see when she opened it. She would be looking disheveled yet still beautiful despite the obvious signs of hangover. Wearing a soft, light pink, bathrobe that showed off her legs and was perhaps only lightly tied in front showing a pleasant but not indecent amount of chest. He sometimes fantasized about seeing her wearing that robe in more intimate settings.
The door opened. The bathrobe was there, and it was lightly tied, but the person occupying it wasn't who Clark had been expecting. Instead of the raven haired reporter he was greeted by an athletic man with a build similar to his own doing a pretty good vocal impression of The Adams Family butler Lurch as he groaned out an inquisitive, "yes?"
Clark felt several fantasies concerning that robe get warped by the image before him and tossed into the back of his mind, for his own sanity, in the moments it took for him to overcome his surprise.
"Yes, I'm Clark Kent. I thought Lois might like a ride to work. Who are you and what are you doing here?" Clark kept his tone even as he studied this man. Trying to ignore the modest amount of chest hair exposed by the robe. Nothing about him indicated hostility or sinister intent. Under different circumstance Clark would probably like him. The bathrobe made that difficult though.
"Yeah I suppose I should explain myself," the man replied while casting a sheepish glance at his attire. "Name's Gabe Gallows." He spoke almost as if he was reminding himself of the name as much as he was introducing himself as he moved to invite Clark in. Upon crossing the threshold Clark took note of the apartment. It didn't look ransacked. If anything it looked cleaner then Clark expected at this point in the week. He also noted that the dryer was running and something was cooking in the kitchen. The sound of the shower running told the reporter where his partner most likely was. "Lois and I met last night in a bar. We both needed some company and just hit it drank a little too much so I brought her home." He made his way to the kitchen where he worked on what appeared to be scrambled eggs mixed with diced vegetables and a few other ingredients.
"And you stayed the night because…"
This query was met with another sheepish look followed by the ding of the dryer. "I didn't want to walk around the city with vomit on my shirt for one thing." He turned off the heat on the breakfast and made his way towards what Lois called her laundry closet. "Lois is a friendly drunk but keep your distance when her eyes start to cross." He opened the laundry closet and then the dryer. Pulling out a dark green T-shirt with the new Meta-Brawl logo on the back and a pair of relaxed fit jeans. The absence of underwear made Clark hopeful that Gabe was wearing them. He noted that the jeans were the same brand worn by many of the league members, himself included, for comfort over costume and ease of removal when it was time to change out of civvies in a hurry.
At that moment the shower cut off and Lois could be heard muttering, "Where is my bathrobe?"
"I'm afraid I'm wearing it Lois," Gabe called out.
"Clark? Is that you?"
"No it's Gabe Gallows. We met last night over drinks? Remember?" Clark hid his wince. The mistake was understandable but this was the second time in as many days that someone had mistook someone else for him.
"You're still here?" She asked as she emerged from the bathroom wrapping her hair in a towel and wearing the plain white robe she kept on hand for when her sister stayed over. Clark wished Gabe had found that one first.
"Well you did throw up on my shirt."
"Did I?" She winced and held her head. The effort of remembering was clashing with her hangover. "Man I need coffee." Clark handed her one of the cups he brought. "Thanks Clark."
"Got time for breakfast?" Gabe inquired.
"Lois looked at the analog wall clock then at the digital one on the microwave. "What's ready?"
"Well I brought Doughnuts," Clark supplied.
"And I cooked eggs mixed with some vegetables that were still good in your fridge," Gabe continued. "Enough for three if you want some Clark. I always make a little extra when I can in case someone wants seconds or something."
"Great," Lois said before Clark could respond to the invitation. "You boys set the table while I get dressed." And with that she returned to her room with her coffee leaving the men to follow her directions.
"Why don't you get dressed Gabe and I'll set up?" Clark offered, already moving towards where Lois kept her dishes and glasses.
"Yeah I suppose I should get ready to go too." Gabe walked over to where his clothes were and took off the robe the way a pro-wrestler might before a match. Though the action seemed more out of habit then intent. "Wouldn't want you guys to be late for work because you were waiting for me."
"So, what do you do for a living Gabe?"
"Oh you could say I'm between jobs at the moment," Gabe replied from within his shirt as if he had thought of the answer in advance. Both Lois and Bruce had taught Clark to recognize such prepared answers.
"I see you're a fan of meta-brawling. I hear they're working to become a legitimate branch of wrestling and are in talks with both the MMA and the UFC." Clark resisted the urge to use his super hearing as a lie detector as he set the table. Prepared answers were not always a sign of deception and, despite the circumstances of their meeting, Clark had no reason to suspect Gabe of anything other than grabbing the first robe he found.
"Yeah I read the article you wrote about that a few days back," Guy replied as his head emerged from the shirt. Followed quickly by his arms emerging from the sleeves. "I like how you downplayed the group's past in favor of the positive image they're trying to generate."
"Think they have a shot?"
"I hope so. For one thing, not all metahumans can be pigeonholed into either hero or villain."
"What are you boys talking about?" Lois asked as she came back into the room. This time fully dressed though still holding the coffee as if she hadn't put it down. Her hair was still slightly damp but would finish drying on the way to work.
"Just making small talk," Clark said with a smile as he placed the box of doughnuts in the middle of the table. Gabe took charge of dispensing the eggs. "You want a doughnut Gabe?"
Gabe eyed the box with the same hungry expression the Daily Planet's sports writer George usually had when his wife had them both on a diet. "I better not. My body is a temple."
"In my experience some of the best playgrounds are by temples and churches," Lois stated as she grabbed a jelly filled with chocolate icing." Have a doughnut so I don't feel self conscious."
Breakfast passed in relatively good spirits as the three ate and made small talk. By the time it was done they were all on the way to becoming friends and Clark had almost forgotten about the boy claiming to be his son. Even the drive to work with Lois was more pleasant than he had been expecting when he left home this morning.
Then they got to work.
"Oh good you're here," Perry said as the reporters emerged from the elevator. "I'm calling a meeting in the conference room. We've got to get a handle on these super kids before anyone else can." Without slowing down for a response the editor of the Daily Planet made his way through the press room towards his destination with all his reporters following in his wake. Once there he took his position of power at the head of the table. "OK People we have three kids so far claiming super types as parents. The TV news already has the jump on us with Flash's kid but all they have on the other two is some bad footage from the security cameras that survived the bank robbery. We have an ace reporter and our best photographer as witnesses." He gestured towards Lois and Jimmy. Jimmy took pride at being called the best. Pride that fell flat with White's next words. "It would be better if Jimmy had some pictures, but let's work with what we have. I want the two of you to talk with our sketch artist. I want clear pictures ready for the next edition."
"Right chief," Lois acknowledged. "Then I'll find out what the League has to say about…"
"Last time you talked with the League several tabloids headlined with stories and pictures of you with several heroes." Clark suppressed a smirk at White's words. The pictures had been the result of a failed attempt at a practical joke by J'onn J'onzz. The joke had failed before J'onn could deliver the punch line, and no one was sure what he was trying for, but the pictures, taken from League security footage, had come in handy when the League had needed to push Lois away for both her own safety and theirs. "No offence but we already have tabloid fodder headlining serious papers with these kids running around. I want to minimize the chances people will bring up that old garbage. Clark will contact the League on this one." He shifted his focus to Clark. " Earlier I received word that the Justice League's current PR man is going to hold a press conference later today, and I want you there, but if you can get any advanced information before then, pounce on it. Lois I want you talking with independent experts. People outside the League. See if it's actually possible for these people to even have kids much less kids at this age and with their powers. Then I want the two of you to compare notes.
The rest of you can resume your regular assignments but if anyone sees or hears anything, from rumors to phantom images, I want to know about it. Questions?"
One of the new members of the mail room tentatively raised her hand. "Mr. White sir? What about their blog?
"Their what?"
"Their blog. The Justice League has an official blog site and a new thread has just started about Inertia and the others."
"Good work Miss?"
"Courtney Whitmore sir."
"Tell Dwayne Dibly about it. He's our tech reporter and handles the website. Man has an overbite like a locomotive's cow catch but he knows computers and can sift out anything useful from that site of yours. Jimmy can show you where his office is once he tells the sketch artist what the other two kids look like. Move people! The chase is on and I want us leading this pack of newshounds by tomorrow." With that everyone scattered.
"See you later Clark," Lois said as she and Jimmy made for the sketch artist.
"Want to compare notes over dinner?"
"Sure. See you at the Diner."
Clark smiled as he made his way to his own destination and wondered if Sketchy had redecorated his cubical since the last time Lois had dealt with him. The boy was an artist who could somehow create detailed and precise drawings from the barest descriptions, but when he didn't have assignments he tended to people watch and was considered too observant for the comfort of some people. Sometimes seeming to know more from body language than most people knew from conversation and often drawing pictures of his coworkers. Usually flattering, like the picture he drew of a younger and trimmer version of Perry, and generally harmless. It's just that Lois wasn't too pleased when she peeked in his cubical and saw herself flying in the Super woman costume she wore last Halloween. Fortunately Jimmy would be there to protect the talented artist from the reporter's formidable temper should there be any other pictures. Because Superman would be busy elsewhere.
"Someone please tell me that these super kids are both delusional and a complete surprise to all of you! And it better be believable! Because if that's not the case! If even one of you had the barest hint that Inertia and his little playmates were running around I am going to be seriously ticked!" The bellowing voice was all too familiar in the halls of the tower and made several of the heroes cringe. It was the voice of Peter Bullock, the League's latest Public Relations man and considered one of the best. In appearance he was a bearded mass of muscle and fat in a modest suit. Most of the time he could be a cuddly teddy bear. The sort of man you would expect to play Santa at the Christmas party. Particularly when the big man laughed. The rest of the time the soft fat turned to hard muscle and he was the scariest grizzly in the forest. He was known as Pete Bull by many of his clients for this fierce attitude. Particularly when something happened that could hurt their public image. Though heaven help the client if that something was his or her own fault.
Superman emerged from the elevator and then tried to turn around and disappear back into it when he saw the PR man's familiar mass. Unfortunately it was too little too late.
"Hold it right there Superman." Superman turned and watched as Pete Bull came towards him like a force of nature. Given a choice the Kryptonian would have rather faced Kalibak with a toothache. "One of these kids claims you as daddy. Which to me means I'll be dealing with headlines like Super Stud Slings Sausage with Volcanic Vixen. So I want as much proof as you can give me that you are not in anyway responsible for this Pyro punk."
"He's not a punk," Superman said reflexively. Which earned him a glare that could have rivaled Batman's. "But he could be a clone of some sort like Bizarro. Or someone else could have found a way to the phantom zone." He quickly added. The glare lessened so he continued. "I can show you a report from some of our most trusted scientists on how I would be unable to conceive a child with a human woman." The original report had been written by Emile Hamilton back when the scientist was still counted as a friend. And had been checked and revised several times since then. It wasn't something the Kryptonian liked to think about. But it got Pete to back down.
"Alright I want that report emailed to my PDA as soon as possible. And a hard copy on my desk before the day is out." His expression softened. "If you want it kept out of the papers I'll try but I can't promise anything." His expression hardened again as he turned to address the room again with a gentler but still clearly projected tone. "I have a press conference later today so I want all the not so proud parents to meet me in the conference room. And that includes any whose kids haven't made headlines yet. I can't do my job unless I know everything you so much as suspect about this." With that he made a beeline for the main conference room. Any heroes or workers in the way quickly cleared his path. As a PR man he could be as hard as a drill sergeant but he had saved their public image almost as often as they had saved the world and despite his temper he cared about them and was actually considered a friend by some. This didn't mean that anyone wanted to be in the same room with him while the whole issue with the kids was going on though.
Fate, who had caught the last declaration, tried to make himself scarce but found his way blocked by both Flash and Shayera.
"Sorry Doc," Flash said. But if we have to face him then so do you."
"Of course. I was just going to get Zatanna," Fate said with a hint of discomfort tainting his normally stoic and wise appearance. At that moment Black Canary arrived with the Mistress of Magic in tow and Fate's shoulders slumped.
"We got the call on our comlinks," Canary explained. "I'm guessing he's waiting for us?"
"And the longer we take the worse he'll be," Superman said as he joined the group. "So we better get in there while he's still warming up." With that he led them to the conference room. This was not going to be pleasant.
Meanwhile. Another meeting was about to take place back on Earth as the figure known as Gabe Gallows made his covert way towards what looked like an old hotel that had been "closed for remodeling" since before Lex Luthor moved out of Suicide Slums.
At first glance the Hotel De Carabas looked like it was somewhere between historical landmark and condemned building. Only the careful observer would notice that, despite an exterior that looked as battered and aged as the buildings around it, the damage seemed more for show and the hotel itself still looked strong. Like a soldier blending in with the environment to guard a secret.
Gabe entered the front door of the hotel, smiling to himself at its well-tuned creak as it closed behind him, and took a moment to admire the interior of the hotel. For while the outside had seen better days the inside looked as clean and modern as any high priced hotel built with the intent of giving guests a retro feel. The hotel was actually a safe house for the criminal elite and had been ever since mob bosses had bought it during prohibition. Since then it had changed hands from one crime family to the other until Lex Luthor had bought it as a temporary residence for some of his less than legal employees and associates. Lex was long gone and there was a betting pool going on how long it would be until Mercy, Lex's former bodyguard and the current head of his corporation, decided to put the property to a more legal use. But until then it served as home for the remaining members of the Legion. One such member was waiting at the foot of the grand staircase.
"Where were you?" Volcana asked as she stood up from her perch on the steps. Her anger almost masking the concern in her voice.
"Out," Gabe replied with a dull edge to his voice. "I needed time to think after meeting your son."
"Dammit Guy I told you I never saw that kid before," Volcana snapped. Her fire elemental powers threatening to spring forth. "And for me to be the mother of some super-teen I would have had to give birth before I even met Superman."
Gabe, whose real name was Guy Pompton AKA Evil Star, sighed as he turned to look at the volcanic villainess that had become his lady love soon after joining the Legion. "I know Claire. But it was still a shock. And you've compared me to him often enough that I've had to wonder. Not to mention that private tropical island you sometimes boast about."
Volcana gave him a flirtatious smirk. "Well the two of you do have a lot in common. At least in terms of personality and build. Besides, I can't have you taking our relationship for granted. I saw how you talked with Lady Lunar back when the Legion was still going strong and everyone knows you kissed Queen Bee."
Guy rolled his eyes. "As I've told you before, I was going to Lady Lunar for advice on how to date you. The two of you were friends. And Queen Bee kissed me I didn't kiss her. Besides, it was the Legion Christmas party. Mistletoe was involved." The party had been a small thing. Held by the die hard Christmas lovers and those members who, for one reason or another, had never experienced a Christmas party and were curious. It had been a moral booster and the only way to keep Toyman from a month long pout.
"By all accounts you enjoyed it."
Guy shrugged. "Her kiss was sweet but I like a lady with more fire in her lips." He gave her a mischievous smile. "You wouldn't know anyone like that would you?"
She matched his smile. "Maybe." Then her expression turned serious. "But I still want to know where you were last night."
"I went somewhere to have a drink and think about the situation. Then I found a place to crash. Not as nice as palace in pauper's clothing but it served." Mentioning that he had spent the night with Lois Lane would not go well with the other villains in general and Volcana in particular so he kept to understated basics. "I wanted to wait on talking about Pyro until we could both think rationally."
"Well our so called teammates weren't so understanding." She grumbled. "Once they all found out I was met with everything from teasing to accusations that I sold us out. At some point I couldn't tell the difference. And with you gone off to who knows where, apparently to drink a liquor store dry and crash at a roach motel, I was left with no one on my side but that Ghostrider on steroids buddy of yours. And since he was in the same boat I had to singe some eyebrows to get them to back off." Her arms crossed as her shoulders slumped. "Almost found out what Toyman looks like under his fake head when he started that 'Sitting in a tree' ryme.
Guy mentally kicked himself. He had been distracted by his own thoughts and hadn't realized how the others would treat her when they found out about the new teen heroes. Sure they were coworkers of a sort. There were even some genuine friendships between some legion members. But they could still be as vicious as the worst schoolyard bullies when riled.
Gently he reached out to caress her shoulder. The action was a considerable risk since she didn't always react favorably to such contact unless she was in control. Then, when his clothes weren't burned off him, he pulled her into an embrace.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here for you. But I'm here now and I'll help you get through this."
She looked up into his eyes. The spark returning to her own. "You'd better or I'll revoke certain bedroom privileges." Which Guy knew could mean a controlled burn of his room if she was in a bad enough mood. They both moved in for a kiss to seal the deal.
Then Luminus, one of several other residents of the hotel and the man partially responsible for it being off the power grid, came flying out of the dining hall like he had been shot butt first out of a cannon (A/N think a super strong gut punch). Followed soon after by a furious Atomic Skull.
"I told you several times Light bulb. That buzzard bimbo and I can't possible have a kid together," Roared the former meta-brawler. The flames of his head almost scorching the doorway as he stalked out of the diner towards the prone villain.
The kiss interrupted before it could start the pair exchanged glances. Then separated. Guy to calm down his friend. If only because repairs to the hotel were difficult. And Volcana to see if they needed a doctor for Lightner. Luminus wasn't popular but he had his uses.