SEPTEMBER 2010
"Yes, just bring it in." I call into the receiver. God, what I wouldn't give for an aspirin right now. Actually, that doesn't sound like a half bad idea.
Tess Mercer.
It all seems like such a lie of a name now. No, not just the name. A fictitious life. 'Oh, don't sell yourself short, Mercy,' my conscience announces.
'You would be sitting in this same thrown no matter what. What's in a name?That which we call a rose. Byany other name would smellas sweet' Oh great, quoting Shakespeare, one of the greats.
'Well I would have arrived here a little more gracefully. With more ease. They'd always been a 'them'. Them. What a funny way to put it. Us, now. I don't have much time to ponder the whole logistics of it when Lisa, my secretary walks in with the package.
"Here you are, Miss Mercer. Good day, Miss Mercer."
Mercer.
Lisa exits from the doors of the study. This mansion was shipped, brick by brick from Scotland, and sitting in what was once Lionel Luthor, then Lex Luthor's chair made me feel like a queen. Not a Queen, but a ruler, the earth in my palm, the world at my feet.
I'd slaved away from what are now but pathetic memories of parents, almost all but forgotten, to get here. Imagine my shock to discover it's been all but my right since birth.
I open the package, not sparing the paper and come face to face with a chest. Not special, or ornately carved, no more than a foot in length. A familiar slot, I slip the key I received from the vault of Lex's treasures when I inherited all his belongings. It clips open, and I see 3 letters.
The first one, labelled, 'Lucas Luthor'. I remember briefly reading about his adventures and tempestuous pursuits as Lionel's illegitimate son those years ago, all while I was still merely a secretary in a tiny sub department of LuthorCorp, when I took over. What Lionel would have to say to him, I wonder.
The second, labelled… 'Tess Mercer'. I run my hands over what was once my identity and look at the last letter.
'Lex Luthor'.
\S/
"You think she's alright?" I question them, pacing back and forth. Come on, you'd be traumatized too, after what happened.
"Jim, she's fine, take a breather." Oliver approaches, laying a hand on my shoulder. I just keep trembling.
"Oliver… There are just… Some things you can't un-see!" I say, panicky. He laughs and pats me on the back.
"Jimbo, I'll admit it was a little weird, but you don't have to lose your marbles…" Chloe walks in and gives Oliver a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Alright, what's the big 911, guys?" She asks. Oliver's rapid to give a brief downplay.
"Lois apparently-" I cut him off.
"Something's wrong with her! I blurt out. "We were in the bullpen, and Jeff handed her a coffee, and she turned it down. Actually, she didn't turn it down, but as soon as she SAT down, she started rambling about some horrible smell and how someone better clean it up stat. I quietly informed her it was the coffee, and didn't believe me until she had a sip. Then she promptly, I pause for effect, "…threw it out."
Oliver looks completely amused by the look on Chloe's face, and Chloe seems completely amused by the look on my face.
"So…?" Chloe encourages, pouring herself a little tea.
"So it's weird! All month she's been drinking, I dunno, like, vitamin water and herbal tea! And that's not it. She started acting nice. Like really nice. We were walking over to meet a source, and she started pointing out pretty things. Like nature, and…" At this point Oliver's face crosses over to disbelief, and Chlo is just about bent over with giggles.
"…then she threw up! In the middle of the day! She wasn't sick, I don't think. I mean, you know Lois up and about everywhere, but she was perfectly fine, said something about not feeling well, next thing you know, her head's in the nearest trash can! She insisted she was fine after that, and no amount of persuading could convince her otherwise, so we just continued."
Chloe and Oliver exchange glances, communicating with their eyes almost. They've both got pensive looks on their faces, and for some reason I feel like it's my cue to leave. They turn to me at the same time.
"Look, Jimmy," Chloe begins, and I totally get it.
"No, it's fine I'll go, but admit I'm onto something. And tell me if she's okay? I can handle another… 'nice' Lois…" Oliver chuckles and shakes his head.
"Sure thing Jimmy. Don't worry so much though, alright? You're young, you don't have to monitor anyone, especially Lois. Worry about yourself." Chloe gives me a wink, and I head to the elevator trying to remember the last time I just thought about myself.
\S/
"Okay, Lane, time for us to have a little talk…" I roll my eyes.
"Why do I feel like I'm getting a lecture from the concerned parents about me on my first date?" I ask, arms crossed, all business. Ollie cracks a smile that I can't help but mirror.
"Not far off…" Chloe mutters. Okay… That complicates things. What the hell are they really holding me hostage in Watchtower for? I'm about to voice my confusion, when Chloe speaks up.
"We've heard you've been having some… peculiar behaviour…" My eyes instinctively glare. Jeff? Perry? Tess?
"And we sort of wanted to talk about you… And Clark." Clark. I immediately pull the sleeve over my right wrist, where my, well, my Kryptonian wedding ring, really, sits. I hadn't really gotten around to telling them that we were married. That I was a… wife. I still revelled in the glow of it. Married.
"This is completely your business, but did you guys ever… I mean did you use… Do you think you could be…" Oliver fumbles as he says this, which is odd. He's quite suave, from what I remember, so seeing him out of place is…. Unsettling. To say the least.
Chloe puts a hand on his chest to cease his nonsense words and I turn to her expectantly.
"You can't stand coffee, you're main source of energy." Chloe begins, lack of believability coloring her tone. I roll my weight on my back leg.
"Yeah, I think I'm sick." She shakes her head
"Jimmy said you threw up today, which is the third time this month." Jimmy… The culprit…
"Sick!" I emphasize.
"Oh God, you think you're so great at downplaying, you'd make the Hindenburg seem like a burnt marshmallow!"
"What is this really all about?"
"Lois, come on. You're sense of scent is on the fritz, you've suddenly taken up a different appetite, and when we took you out to celebrate the Vigilante story, you kept complaining that you were tired. And then there's…" Oliver gets a little red faced.
"The throwing up..?" I say, a little amused that he can't say it. What, he's never upchucked? Chloe shrugs, and puts her hands on her hips. I raise my eyebrows. Is she challenging me?
"Oh, you could say that…" She shrugs nonchalantly, and steps forward. Oliver gives her a half smile when she turns to him, but makes no move to approach me.
"Because that's all it is." I hedge.
"Or maybe it's just a symptom."
"What, you think, I'm like, actually sick? Like with a disease? Trust me, I'm in top health, I don't…"
"I wouldn't call it a disease, so much as a..." Oliver continues.
"Call it? Call what!" I implore.
"For a reporter, you sure are blind. Talk about sniffing out a story, which you should be plenty apt, considering your enhanced senses." Chloe chuckles and puts her hands on my shoulders. I'm in too much shock of her belittling me to even consider pulling away.
"Did you ever think you might be… Pregnant?"