CHAPTER TWENTY - NEGOTIATIONS
Normal songs, as far as Lois can tell from her own music-listening experience, hardly ever exceed five minutes in length. She hopes that such rules apply to jazz bands at charity galas, because she doesn't know how long she can continue holding Lex's ice-cold hand, or how long she can tolerate his grasp on her waist. It's already taking all of her willpower not to smack him and run out of the Halldorf entirely.
But… she thinks… or perhaps hopes… that she can survive five minutes of this torture. So as she waltzes across the dance floor with Lex's hungry eyes on her face, she begins counting down the three hundred seconds. That way, if the song ends early, then Clark's arrival will come as a pleasant surprise. If the song lasts longer… well, she supposes she will cross that bridge when she gets there.
300… 299… 298… Christ, his hands are freezing… 295 … 294… 293… I hate waltzing as is, but this makes it so much worse…
"I love the way you look in that dress, by the way," Lex compliments her on the 100th second. He sounds apparently sincere, but there is something sinister under his tone. Something that suggests that he would enjoy seeing her out of that dress even more.
Plus, she didn't dress this way for him. She dressed this way for herself, mostly because she liked the gown, and more importantly, she loved her the fact that she is successful enough to attend to her own desires and wants. And even if she did possess a small, petty hope to seem beautiful for Clark's sake, it would never overwhelm her desire to do or wear what she wanted.
Plus, shouldn't Lex always love the way she looks, dress or not? Lois is no expert on romance, but she is relatively certain that her damn outfit shouldn't affect how he feels for her.
The most upsetting thing is the absolute lack of human affection in his voice. He speaks to her like he is complimenting a fancy car, or a good suit - with obvious interest and possessiveness, but without legitimate hopes to make her feel good about herself.
Because Lois cannot reprimand him, given her current situation, she instead indulges in a nervous sort of laugh to release her tension. "It better. The damn thing cost an arm and a leg."
160… 159… 158… 157… 156… 155…
Lex continues to gaze at her with that unsettling, greedy look as they turn dizzyingly to the jazz music. "Have you thought about what I said?"
Kill time, she orders herself. If she dismisses him too early, he will sit down before she can plant the listening device, and Lois will miss her chance. So she stalls.
"About what?" she thus asks obliviously, returning his stare in earnest.
"About you and me, of course."
130… 129 … 128 … 127… 126… 125…
Lois clears her throat and focuses on the floor. "I… uh… definitely did some thinking."
"And have you made a decision?" Lex inquires almost impatiently, forcefully spinning her around to keep up with the tempo of the waltz.
113… 112… 111… 110…
She pointedly does not answer, hoping to stall for a just a few moments longer.
Lex, however, takes her pause as indecision, so he sighs with irritation. "It's not your co-worker, is it? Because honestly, Lois… you could do a million times better than that nebbish."
Lois suppresses the necessity to both scoff and explode with rage toward Lex. He knows nothing about Clark, and in truth, nothing about her. Maybe he understands enough about her personality to recognize the similarities they both share, but other than that, his understanding of how she thinks and feels is as superficial as her father's.
"He's not a nebbish," she asserts. "He's my friend. So watch your damn mouth."
Lex sets his own jaw. "Fine. I apologize. But I'm still awaiting your answer."
Lois exhales. "You want to know if we still have a chance, right? That's your issue?"
"Obviously."
95… 94… 93… 92… 91… 90… 89
At this point, she doesn't know what to do. If she rejects him, he might not object to Clark interrupting the dance, meaning that he might leave so rapidly that she will be unable to place the listening device on him. But if she says yes… that will make matters even worse. She is in love with Clark, not Lex, and she hates deceiving people. Even people like Lex.
78… 77… 76… 75… 74… 73… 72… 71
She clears her throat. "I'm… in love with someone else. It's very confusing."
It's not a lie, of course. She is in love with someone else, and it is confusing - mostly because he is an alien being that refuses to tell her the truth, despite how much he appears to care about her.
Lex's brows knit together. "Confusing? What's there to be confused about? I'm here. I want you. Whoever you have feelings for, they are missing their chance, aren't they?"
Though she is beyond considering Lex in any way, shape, or form, his words about the "other man" do ring somewhat true. Despite how she feels about Clark, and how she suspects he feels about her, he still has failed to tell her the truth, or make any sort of legitimate attempt to bring their relationship to a phase beyond friendship. Does that mean that Lois is wrong? That he really doesn't care about her that way? Should she bother pining for him the way she does? There are other men (excluding Lex, of course).
As she dances with Lex, thinking in silence, she wonders whether it would be worth her time to pursue new guys, just for the hell of it.
But then again… something about Clark just feels right. More right than any other relationship that she has engaged in - and they haven't even kissed.
"Mind if I cut in?" someone asks, snapping Lois out of her reverie. She realizes that everyone around her is clapping, and the music is now inaudible, meaning that the song must have ended.
She turns her head to the side, thus seeing Clark, who is looking pointedly at her. Lex, meanwhile, turns at the exact moment she does, so Clark's eyes are forced to flit away. Now, they proceed to return Lex's cold glare from under his thick glasses. His arms, which are tucked behind his back, seem tense.
Meanwhile, Lois feels Lex's grip on her hand and waist tighten as he responds, "Yes. I do very much mind."
This is her chance, Lois realizes, despite her intense urge to shudder. Earlier, she clipped the listening device onto her dress for easy access. This now proves extremely useful, since she is able to remove her hand from Lex's shoulder and uses it to pretend to fix the creases in her gown. In reality, however, she discreetly plucks the device from her skirt while Lex remains focused on Clark. By replacing her hand on Lex's shoulder, she easily plants the device underneath his collar. He fails to notice, especially with the level of intense hatred he is directing at Clark.
"I wasn't asking you to dance, Mr. Luthor. I was asking Lois. It's up to her," Clark counters, staring toward Lois with raised eyebrows that not only ask his original question, but inquire whether she completed her task.
In response, Lois nods slightly at Clark and disentangles herself from Lex.
"I want to dance with him, Lex," she says quietly after clearing her throat. "I want to dance with Clark. So if you'll excuse us."
Lex blinks, his expression hardening and fists clenching. Lois thinks she hears him chuckle slightly - bitterly, even - before he replies, "As you wish, Lois."
He backs a full foot away from her, then turns on his heels so he can literally push past Clark, heading back toward his seat at the Lexcorp reserved table. His agitation and resentment are palpable in the air long after he has left.
But Lois is soon forgetting about Lex, because Clark is moving toward her, placing his warm hand almost hesitantly on her waist, and grasping her hand in his own. Their bodies are now inches apart, spinning slowly to the new song, which is much slower and more tranquil.
She soon finds herself laughing nervously, and from this close proximity, she can clearly see his bright blue eyes focused on hers.
"What's so funny?" Clark asks quietly by her ear.
"Nothing," Lois replies, gulping. "I'm just waiting for my skin to stop crawling."
He looks somewhat offended. "Well, we only have to dance for a little while-"
She chuckles. "You're not the reason, Smallville. My skin's crawling because of Lex."
"Oh," he says, relaxing visibly as his voice takes on a more joking tone. "Well, I thought you were naturally averse to anything from Kansas, so I figured… "
He is so close to her that she can literally smell him. His scent is now reminiscent of soap, rather than the crisp, somewhat ocean-like odor that he had as Superman.
"Personally, I don't like slow dancing very much," he adds offhandedly as they continue swaying. "Haven't done it since my senior prom."
Lois finds the thought of him in high school somewhat ridiculous. After all, he is an alien, but somehow he experienced a normal childhood - maybe one that was more normal than her own, since she sometimes was whisked away to military bases thanks to her father.
She begins to wonder - did he go to parties? Play sports? Write for his school newspaper? She knows he must have been pretty successful in his studies, since Metropolis University - his alma mater - is a pretty elite school.
He talked about going to prom, so he obviously had that typical high school experience. Did he go with his ex-girlfriend? What was her name… hmm… Lana?
An odd feeling of longing and jealousy courses through her veins - something that she has never felt before. She needs to get a grip. Lois wouldn't trade who she is for anything - anyone - in the world. Why would she want to be like Lana, a girl she has never met? She doesn't.
It'd just be nice if the one guy she cares about reciprocated, is all.
Clark clears his throat. "Y'know, you're being uncharacteristically quiet. Something wrong? Or is my dancing that bad?"
"Sorry," she apologizes quietly. "Just thinking."
"About what?"
About you, she thinks almost bitterly, because if Lex could see her feelings written so plainly on her face, shouldn't Clark be able to do the same?
The warmth of his hands on her, even over her dress, is incredibly distracting. It's been awhile since she has been this close to him - close enough to simply kiss his perfect lips, just by moving onto her tip toes to achieve a sufficient height…
But then… then she realizes that he is staring at her lips just as she is staring at his, and Lois wonders whether his current thoughts are similar to her own.
But then the song ends, and applause cuts through their daze. Thus, they both look away, their gazes finding the floor as their faces begin to heat up.
"We should… we should sit," Lois manages, fighting her inexplicably dry throat. "That way we can watch Lex."
He nods fiercely. "You're right. Let's go."
"This is the longest… party… ever," Lois complains from her designated table with Clark. Her elbows rest against the tabletop, and she leans her cheeks lazily against her palms. It's not the classiest pose, she knows, but she's tired and uncomfortable, so people will have to deal.
Clark is twiddling his thumbs beside her, his eyes trained on Lex, who remains seated at the table. "What are the chances that we were wrong, and that we won't get any information tonight? It's been hours, and Lykos hasn't even approached him."
Lois groans. "Do you know how long I've been wearing this heels?"
"You always wear heels. I thought they didn't bother you."
"The shoes themselves do not. Their straps, on the other hand, absolutely do. They're cutting into my flesh."
"Did you bring… I don't know… flip flops or something?"
"Clark, this isn't a school dance, if you haven't noticed. This is a high-society charity gala. You don't just leave your shoes at the side of the room and put on bunny slippers."
"If you haven't noticed, I don't spend a lot of time at 'high society charity galas' or whatever, so cut me some slack."
"God, Smallville… you're such a nerd."
"You're just saying that because of the glasses."
Lois glances sideways at him, her expression pointed. She really shouldn't try to back him into any corners tonight, but she can't help it as she says: "Well… in that case… maybe you should take them off for once. Unless you're hiding some-"
Clark sits up suddenly, his wide grin disappearing as his eyes focus on Lex's table. Lois follows his gaze, thus sees Ambassador Lykos, in his mustached glory, whispering urgently in Lex's ear. Whatever he is saying, it must not be particularly good news, because Lex seems rather irritated.
"Show time," Clark whispers to Lois, watching as a seemingly reluctant Lex stands up and exits the room, the ambassador trailing behind him. Clark takes the listening earpiece out of his pocket and discreetly hands it to her.
Lois stands up, straightening her skirt. "Time to go to the bathroom," she announces loudly, causing their fellow tablemates to shoot her dirty looks. "Bodily functions and all that. Adios."
She waves exaggeratedly and marches toward the tiny hallway that extends from the ballroom - where she knows that the bathrooms are located.
One thing Lois had not anticipated, when buying a fancy dress, is how long she would be seated on top of a toilet seat. Before, she didn't regret the purchase in the least… but now… well, there is some regret forming.
Not that the Halldorf doesn't have a nice bathroom. In fact, it's one of the fanciest bathrooms she has ever been in. But germs are germs, and she would prefer to avoid bathing her expensive dress in them by sitting where people deposit their feces.
Nonetheless, she sits down and sticks the earpiece in her ear. Immediately, she is greeted by sounds - their point of origin most likely being a private conference room somewhere in the hotel.
At first she only catches bits and pieces of the initial conversation, but overall the message is already clear from the Ambassador - he is unhappy, and he wants Lex to do something about it.
"I do not want to negotiate this," Lex responds coolly, a hint of disinterest evident in his voice.
The Ambassador makes a groaning sound. "We had a deal. There is nothing to negotiate. You must make good on your promises."
"You already violated the terms of our deal."
"Bah! That is a lie! The work of individuals does not reflect-"
"The CRIMES of individuals under your employ, Ambassador - not work. I told you to leave Qurac alone, and you did not listen. Now my organization is under scrutiny-"
"From that woman you were dancing with!"
With a jolt, Lois realizes that they are talking about her. Has she really made Lex's life so difficult that he cannot complete whatever illicit deal the ambassador is proposing? Or does he simply not want to? And has he really been protecting Qurac the whole time?
She recalls their discussion in the hospital, when Lex told her that everything he does is for "the greater good," no matter how immoral. Are his currents words proof of that?
"That woman I was dancing with is just doing her job," Lex replies. "You and I have both become too sloppy to continue this operation. Buy from someone else for all I care."
"The Queen will not be pleased. Not at all," Ambassador Lykos snarls.
She hears Lex scoff. "The Queen of Bialya is never pleased. You and I both know that. Perhaps… when interest wanes and you curb your belligerence… we can reopen discussion."
"Qurac is our enemy. We will not-"
Suddenly, the earpiece goes dead, and a sound that Lois reverberates back to her spot in the bathroom. It chills her to the marrow, and she jumps to her feet.
There are gunshots. Rapid ones. Machine gunshots.
Screams are then filling the air, along with the sounds of shattering glasses. It sounds like it is coming from closer to Lois than it did at Lex's location - like it is coming from the ballroom.
She pushes her way out of the bathroom, looking around to see if anyone else is in the tiled area with her. Evidently, she is alone, while the rest of the guests are in danger outside.
The gunshots have ended - no more ring through the air. She wonders what happened, or why they have stopped, but fear grips her as she considers venturing outwards to discover the answers. Obviously, she has been shot before - she has the scar to prove it, just under the strap of her dress. Does she really want to risk it again?
No, she will make sure to call for help first, so that this is not a repeat of her last experience. Her cell phone is with her, so she immediately calls 911, which should allow her to report what she is hearing.
But her phone isn't working properly. Frustrated, she smacks it, trying to force some life into it, but a signal is still somehow unattainable.
What can she do now? What can she do?
She takes a deep breath, fighting the urge to tremble, along with her inexplicable impulse to smoke the cigarettes that she has almost quit entirely. Think, she tells herself. What are your options?
She knows Clark is out there, which means that he can stop… whatever this is… after a quick change into his costume. And if that's the case, she should get the story. She has to get the story.
Another deep breath marks her cautious exit of the bathroom. Before she left, she took off her heels to maintain soundlessness, and they now are held in her hand. The door, thankfully, only furthers this end, since it does not creak.
Lois creeps along the tiny, marble hallway until she can view enough of the ballroom to see and hear what is going on. As she remains partially concealed behind a wall, she gazes out toward the stage where the jazz band used to play. Now, an entirely different sort of group is standing there, with other members milling about the dance floor, guns in their arms. They are men in black ski masks, with slits cut out for their mouths and eyes.
"-are guards at all the exits, and I wouldn't bother using your cell phones," one of them says into the microphone, his accent sounding rather British. "My boys and I are using a military-grade jammer. Every phone within a mile has been knocked out. So by the time all you rich-kids get to call your masseuses, we'll be gone with your charity checks. So if you'd all be kind enough to hand them over, along with your jewelry and valuables, of course-"
So that is why both Lois's phone and earpiece went dead. Someone is doing a high-scale robbery at Lex's charity gala, and they did the smart thing - cut the communications. The police probably won't be here for a while, and until then, the guests are at the mercy of these criminals.
Unless Clark arrives. But he has yet to do so
Another man in a mask begins talking from the dance floor, circling the partygoers, which are gathered in a little scared crowd at the center of the room.
"Straigh' lines now," he yells, aiming his gun menacingly at the people. "Hand over ya stuff one by one! Or else the next gunshots won't be to get your attention."
The partygoers murmur fearfully before scrambling to follow their orders, unclasping jewelry and opening wallets as they move into a line.
Just as the robbers are about to take one woman's necklace, a firm voice interrupts, "There will be no need for that, everyone."
Lois glances upwards to see Superman hovering intimidatingly near the chandelier at the ceiling, his arms crossed in a patronizing way, and his gaze flaring slightly red as he stares at the robbers. He is soon descending toward the stage, landing directly in front of the robber at the microphone.
Finally, Lois thinks, glad that she decided to bring Clark along.
"I suggest you let these people go, otherwise I will force you to do so," Superman continues as everyone focuses on him with a mixture of fear, relief, and confusion. "No matter what, I assure you that you will be apprehended. Just consider whether you want to add 'attempted murder' to the very long list of charges you will receive tonight."
The robber on stage seems stunned for a moment, but shakes his head and regains composure.
"Alright, Superman, I get it. Let's negotiate the terms of our arrest," the accented man concedes, his voice marked by a sort of cockiness that Lois finds unsettling. Why is he accepting defeat so easily?
Superman is obviously confused as well, because he raises an eyebrow and takes a questioning tone. "I'm… glad… you're seeing sense?"
The robber on stage grins as he shoves his gun into Superman's arms. "Here's my weapon, okay, Supes? I've got one more in my pocket that I wanna make sure you take…"
Then the man has something in his hand - something rocklike, glowing, and green. He then extends it toward Superman, almost as if he is asking him to take it.
Lois doesn't think it looks particularly dangerous - it has no triggers or traits of a bomb. Superman should be able to remove it without a problem.
But for some reason, he is soon covering his face and staggering backwards, like the rock is hurting him. Lois doesn't know what to think or do.
"Wuh… What izzat?" he asks, his voice oddly slurred as he continues to move away, but the masked man continues to move toward him, inching him toward the edge of the stage. A cruel grin is twisting his features still.
"Don't know, exactly," the man says arrogantly, casually tossing the rock up and down as he pushes forward. "Somebody told me that this stuff can turn the 'Man of Steel' into the 'Man of Tissue Paper,' so I figured I'd give it a try, y'know?"
Eventually, Clark cannot backtrack anymore, and Lois gasps as he topples off the stage, his body limp.
The masked man jumps down, landing agilely on his feet next to Superman's body. He leans down to speak to him, his voice nearly bursting with a sick pride. "Did you really think I'd try a crime this big without preparing for you, Superman? Now I'm gonna get double the cash - these fat-cats' checks, and the money on your head."
He then drops the green rock, whatever it is, right near the top of Superman's head. Clark groans, sweat visible on his skin, before he appears to go fully unconscious.
"I just took down Superman," the masked man snarls, turning to the crowd of people. "I suggest you make your payments quick, everyone."
TBC...
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING SUPERMAN-RELATED
A/N: DANCING SCENES ARE MY FAVORITES LALALALALALALALA.
Oh yeah. That was a cliff-hanger. So...ahem...DUN DUN DUN.
*sarcasm* I wonder what that green rock could be!
There's still 10 chapters (I think) and an epilogue left. Jeez. When I called this slow-burn, I really meant it.
Anyway, that's all for today, folks! Please review! :) Hope you enjoyed! I'm sorry if I cause any agony during the wait for the next chapter!