I knew from the beginning that the best thing I could do for the Talon would be to tear it down. It wouldn't attract business as a theater. Compared to the multiplex theaters already in Smallville, one screen was nothing. Nell Potter had been kind enough to meet me here and show me around, but I was already turned off by the gaudy sign and the red and gold that I saw taking over the inside's decorations. She unlocked the glass doors and allowed me inside.
The lobby was a spacious area with terrible choice of carpet. If I kept this building, I would have to rip it up and transform it into something that I could tolerate. There were a few chairs from the last century and a large counter with empty shelves under glass. Ancient cash registers were dusty from disuse, and the wallpaper was a puke shade of gold. "The theater itself is back here," the brunette informed me. She had attractive brown eyes, and I might have considered dating her when I was younger.
The theater itself wasn't all that useless. It was only one level, and the seats could be removed to make it a nice space. The place would take a lot of work and money. Even then, could I make it into something that would turn a profit? Probably not. "I'll be honest, Nell." It was a habit to address people formally, but Nell had insisted that I call her by her first name. "I would lose money if I put it into this place as it is. I could just as easily pave it and turn it into anything." There was a slightly downcast look in her eyes, but she nodded.
"Of course. I understand. There's a living space upstairs as well. It's a fairly large apartment." We entered the lobby again, and I could tell that she was tired. "My niece, Lana, is so attached to this place." At the moment, I didn't give a damn what Princess Lana thought of me tearing this place down. Once I bought it, it was my property. There was nothing she could do about it. "It's time to let it go. I'm sure she'll understand." She almost sounded distracted.
"A hundred thousand for this place would be a gift." When I examined her features, I could see that she agreed. She was getting a deal out of this sale. "Considering all the remodeling I'll have to do. Would you accept that amount?" I hated that I couldn't relax and talk to people like Clark could. When I was in a business deal, it was second nature to do exactly what my father had taught me. Nell frowned in thought before she made her decision.
"Yes." I was writing the check when she finally brought it up. "When did you shave your head?" It was a question that I'd been expecting. It was the first time it'd been voiced, but I'd seen people staring in the street. I half-expected to be in the Smallville Ledger for it tomorrow morning. At least it was from Nell, someone who I could imagine relating to at one point in my life. I tore the check from the stack and handed it to her with a small, forced smile.
"I didn't. I lost my hair in the meteor shower, and I've been wearing a wig ever since." Saying the admission aloud was far more difficult than practicing it in my head, but as soon as it was out, I felt some form of relief. Maybe people wouldn't care now that I was an adult. I still had nightmares from childhood and adolescence when kids teased and tortured me for it when they caught me with a bare head.
Comprehension dawned in her pretty eyes, and she tapped a finger against her lips. "Oh, I remember. I saw you in the hospital when Lana's parents died. Your father was trying to hide you in his jacket." I vaguely remembered stumbling around because I couldn't see from the darkness of my father's coat. "It looks much more natural," she said with an appraising look and a genuine smile. "I hear that you're staying with the Kent family. How did that happen?"
"I've been going through some rough times," I admitted truthfully. I resisted the urge to say that my father had been the cause of that rough patch, because I was always taught never to name the competitors. I had no doubt that no matter how trustworthy Nell appeared, the gossip rags would have a hold of this conversation by tonight. Clark and I hadn't talked about exposing our relationship, but he was feeling more possessive by the hour. I didn't think he would mind. "Clark and I are engaged."
Her eyebrows shot up, and I could tell that people were going to be talking. People would talk anyways, because even when we were just friends, people speculated about what a twenty-one-year-old billionaire was doing with a fifteen-year-old boy. There were always going to be people who had a problem with us, but we would have to face them eventually. "Really? That was fast. You've only been in town for three months." I could tell that she was one of the people who wouldn't judge too harshly, even if she was curious.
"Well, we fell in love fast." It was certainly true. No matter what Lionel said, there was no way that I would regret marrying Clark. My only fear was that he might regret it, but he insisted that he was staying with me. Nell's eyes sparkled with glee at that admission, and the older woman placed a hand on my arm. She was probably the only one who would actually think that we were good together instead of trying to press criminal charges against me for statutory rape.
"You two are right for each other. Don't let any of these small-town assholes tell you differently." I had forgotten that Nell was originally from Metropolis. She'd moved here to take care of Lana when her parents died. At least, that was the lore of the town. Everyone knew everyone here, which was why I held no illusions that the relationship between Clark and me would remain secret. If it didn't get out on its own, my father would make sure that it did. I had a feeling that he was still pissed off about the pictures of him and Victor that I had.
"Do you ever miss Metropolis?" My father had hit that nail right on the head. Another of my fears was that I would become the farmer's wife, but I didn't care if I had the love of Clark and my child. I'd always been in big cities with important people, but I came to realize that living in small towns didn't mean that someone was unimportant. It just meant that less people knew them. I wouldn't mind the anonymity after all these years of blatant scandal. The drug-hazed days of my teenage years and waking up with my name in the gossip rags wasn't anything that I wanted to relive.
"Sometimes." She gave me a knowing look and tucked her hair behind one ear. "At first, I thought it would be the end of the world. Don't get me wrong; I love Lana with all my heart, but I was terrified of moving here alone. At least you have Clark to support you on the bad days. Once I got used to it, it was easier than being in the hustle of Metropolis. Out here, I can just step outside and clear my head. I can hear the wind go through the grass," she said, a sudden grin spreading her lips and flashing her teeth, "and corn, without the sound of honking cars right outside my window."
"Be careful. You're starting to sound like you belong here," I teased with a light bump of my arm against hers. "I think you're right. Though, I could definitely live without the weekly attacks of meteor mutants." She groaned and rolled her eyes. "If I keep getting kidnapped and shot, Clark will never let me leave the farm. I'll be doomed to spend eternity milking cows and walking through fields full of shit." I let out a chuckle after she started giggling. I knew that Clark wouldn't really do that. At least, I hoped that he wouldn't. With his newfound protectiveness over me that bordered on obsession, I wasn't too sure. Hopefully, it was just a stage of Jor-El's "bonding."
She glanced down at her watch passively, like she had just remembered that she had something to do. When her eyes filled with surprise, I realized that she probably had something else planned. "It was fun talking to you, Lex, but Lana's shift just ended. I have to get back to the shop." There was a spark in her eyes that told me that if I hadn't been taken, she might have advanced our relationship. "Don't be a stranger, okay? We city girls have to stick together," she said with a grin. Her nose was the slightest bit wrinkled when she smiled, which was a trait that I considered cute.
"Of course. Someone around here has to bring these plebeians up to speed." She walked to the door and held it open for me. I exited the Talon and raised an eyebrow after she was done locking the door. "I'll walk you to the shop." The shop was less than ten feet away, but she laughed at my supposed chivalry. I walked beside her on the path until we reached the flower shop. I attempted to smile and stay outside, but she beckoned me inside, where I was overwhelmed by the scent of fresh flowers and plants.
Lana was behind the counter and taking care of a transaction. She might have been exotic if she didn't have a wilted personality. Her long, silky ebony hair and her Grecian-toned skin were perfectly offset by her forest green eyes, which had a beautiful quality to them when they weren't reddened with tears. Nell smiled at her niece, who looked nervously from her aunt to me but put on a false smile anyways. "Guess what? Lex just bought the Talon! Isn't that great?" Nell was obviously thinking about their shaky financial situation, but Lana was on another plane. She looked like she might cry when she looked at me.
"Yeah, great," she repeated lifelessly with that same cheerleader smile. "Um, Miss Luthor, can I talk to you in private?" I had to fight to keep from saying "no" and walking away. That was exactly what she deserved for trying to seduce Clark. But that would've thrown the friendship that I had developed with Nell right down the toilet. It was Nell's pretty, sympathetic eyes, which told me not to be hard on the poor girl, that forced me to nod as I followed her through a door marked "Employees Only." It looked like a storage room, and I realized that it probably was. Lana was wringing her hands, as if she couldn't find the courage to speak up.
Maybe it wasn't all her fault. My one intent on the subject of Lana Lang had been to intimidate the girl into frightful avoidance. That and my bias toward her friendship with Clark had to create an enormously unfriendly aura. I refocused my efforts and took a deep breath so that I wouldn't shout at the girl. "So, Miss Lang, what is it that you want to talk to me about?" I sensed that this was a desperate plea for the preservation of a useless, old movie theater.
The nervousness was coming off her in waves. "Uh, I was wondering what you're going to do with the Talon now that it's yours." It was none of her business. I tried to reel in the anger and see the situation for what it was. My father was always talking about my emotions getting in the way of my communication, and I hated to admit that he was right. I closed my eyes and tried to see what I was missing. Why did Lana care so much about an abandoned building? It was older than she was.
"In all probability, it'll be torn down to make way for a new building or a parking garage." She visibly winced at my words, and her inherent weakness was at odds with my ingrained belief that a spine was all I needed to survive in life. "Whatever it is, it will be something that's useful to this town. A one-screen theater just doesn't make sense anymore when there are multiplex theaters five minutes down the road." I allowed my logic to rule over my emotion this time, and for the first time, I took a step back to look at Lana Lang's problem objectively.
"Are you sure?" Yes, I was sure. Who the hell did she think she was talking to? I tilted my head at her question in lieu of an answer. She realized that she wasn't sounding very reasonable, and her cheeks turned pink. "I mean, it just--" She inhaled and then sighed at the helm of her response. "My parents used to go to that theater a lot. It was their hang-out. It feels like if it's destroyed, I'm losing another piece of them." I didn't expect such raw honesty from her, and I inwardly praised her for it. If there was anything I hated, it was being lied to.
"I see." So, I shouldn't demolish a building because of some teenage girl's fond memories of her long-deceased parents? Her explanation may have sounded illogical to anyone else, but I understood what it was like to lose a parent. When my mother died, I wanted to keep every little thing that reminded me of her. My father had forced me to throw it all out except for the bracelet that I had found in Jeff Palmer's room. "Well, I still don't see any reason to keep a building that won't turn a profit." It may have sounded harsh, but it was true. I had to push aside any emotion when it came to business deals.
"Please," she begged, and her eyes were shining with moisture. "I thought you would know what it was like. I know what happened to your mother." She looked up at me and didn't anticipate the sting that her comment had caused. She lost a few points with that one, and I physically bristled from it. "I saw you watching my aunt." Her eyes had changed with a glimmer that I couldn't decipher, and then she was pressing her lips against mine. She was over-eager, and for a moment, her tongue touched mine, and she tasted of spun sugar and unbearable sweetness. My brain went through a few seconds of shock, but her hands bringing mine up to her small breasts brought me slamming back to reality.
I pulled away from the kiss and dislodged her grip on my wrists before wiping my mouth free of some kind of sticky lip gloss with mountains of glitter that stained her lips a frosty pink. For an instant, I couldn't find the words to speak, but they finally escaped my mouth. "I said--I meant a solid business reason!" There was no doubt that I was flustered. Her doe-like eyes were full of embarrassment, and the pink in her cheeks had deepened to a full red. I could hear her stammering an apology, but I put a flattened hand in the air to stop her. "Whatever you saw, it was innocent. I'm engaged to Clark, Lana." Oh, God, now she really was going to cry.
"Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. S-sorry," she repeated with the sorrow showing plainly in those expressive eyes. I could also see surprise and anger, and I hoped that there wasn't an anger-based meteor mutant virus going around right now. If there was, I would probably end up getting hit over the head with a shovel and tied up. I was never going to get this damn glitter off my lips, and Clark was going to kill me when I told him. How was I supposed to tell my fiancée that his high-school sweetheart had kissed me so I wouldn't tear down a building?
"Listen." I was on my last nerve in terms of patience, but there was a little bit left along with some empathy for the poor girl. "You care about this building; otherwise you wouldn't have done that." I paused for confirmation, and she nodded with a miserable frown. "So come up with something to do with it. Plans, profit predictions, designs. If your proposal is good enough, maybe I'll change my mind." She nodded again and wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks. From what I could read in her expression, she was relieved that I had rejected her offer of prostitution. "You've got a week. Okay?"
"Okay. Thanks," she said with a sniffle. Her arms were wrapped around me before I knew it, and I patted her back lightly in an uncomfortable imitation of a hug. "It'll be good. I promise." She finally beamed a real smile in my direction, and I was still trying to rid myself of the glitter plague as I exited the storage room and then the flower shop. I gave a friendly wave to Nell, as if her niece hadn't just made me an offer to be my own, personal whore. It occurred to me that Lana hadn't mentioned my lack of hair. The girl was probably far too worried about the Talon and didn't want to offend me since the survival of the building bordered on my good nature. I snorted lightly as I got in the Porsche and started the engine.
As soon as the engine turned over, the black Jeep parked next to me exploded. I didn't understand what was happening for the first few moments of shattered Plexiglas and a deafening blast, but my instinct took over as I bent my head down as far as I could, closed my eyes, and shielded my stomach with my arms. I could feel shards of glass cutting my scalp, and a sudden, oppressive heat followed. My ears were ringing, and I couldn't hear anything except that incessant noise. When I felt the pressure on my left arm recede, I turned my head to see Nell opening the door and screaming words that I couldn't hear.
My right shoulder and collar burned when she pulled me out. I was dead weight, so I fell right on the glass remains of my driver's side window. The tiny pieces bit into my side through my clothes, and it was made worse when I was dragged away from the Porsche. All I could think was that Nell was tougher than I thought she was, and she didn't stop until I was on the sidewalk. The reason for this became clear when the Porsche went with another blast. Damnit. This time, I could see the white-hot blast of fire, and I could swear that I saw a woman's face in the middle of the flames, drawn out in contours of white, blue, and orange. My right shoulder and the right side of my neck were both hurting like hell, and it was only when Nell's hand slammed repeatedly into my wounds that I realized that I had been on fire.
When the scent of cooking flesh reached my nose, the edges of my vision blurred and faded into black. I woke up completely nauseated from the smell, but as I took a few deep breaths, it started to disappear. It was replaced by the scent of ammonia and other various chemicals. I was in the hospital. I could hear muffled voices and wondered if my hearing was still out. This wasn't a good idea, because Jor-El's "gift" would arouse plenty of suspicion among the doctors. There had been witnesses to the explosion, though, and at the moment, I had needed an ambulance. My hand came up to feel the skin that had been on fire and felt nothing but the rough texture of gauze. Good. At least they wouldn't be able to see how quickly it was healing. From its reaction to the pressure of my fingers, I gathered that it had probably already healed.
I'd been in enough hospitals for drug-related collapses to know how to get the plastic barrier on the side of the bed down. I sat up and waited for my head to clear a little. I removed the IV from my hand and felt immediately better. They must've been feeding me a morphine drip, which had been keeping my head in the clouds. I allowed my feet to hit the floor and put a little weight on them to test my balance. It felt fine. I nearly fell when I stood up but regained my balance with a hand firmly planted on the bed. There was chatter right outside my room, so I had to try and be as quiet as I could before they could pester me for being out of bed.
The paper gown was breezy in the back. I wanted out of it as soon as possible. After snooping in the large cabinets on the side of the room, I found my clothes. My shirt was torn up and burned, but it was enough to cover the vital parts. The clothes smelled like smoke. I vowed to finish burning them when I got home, but for now, I needed to escape the throes of the evil hospital and nosy doctors. I didn't have any transportation. My cell phone was half-melted, which said something about how close I had been to the explosion itself, but it still worked. I hit speed dial number one while I was putting on my pants.
The phone squashed between my ear and my injured shoulder finally emitted a welcoming sound. "Kent residence." It wasn't Clark, but I was just grateful that someone had answered, even if it was Jonathan. At least he understood something about keeping secrets. His scratchy, gruff voice had never sounded so good before. I looked down at the glob of plastic that used to be my Coach sunglasses and determined that they were unsalvageable.
"Jonathan," I whispered with some urgency in my voice. "I need a ride out of here. I'm at the Smallville Medical Center. Could you come and pick me up?" It was like I was trying to escape from a top-secret facility, but I was certain that the doctors and nurses outside my door had keen ears. Right now, from what I could gather, they were talking about the coffee and donuts that they had at lunch, but I wasn't sure how long that conversation could continue. I heard their laughter through the door.
"Lex?" He sounded surprised. "Clark came running in here earlier going on about some kind of accident. Are you alright?" I heard the jingle of keys and knew the answer to my question already. He wasn't about to leave me stranded at the hospital. "Isn't it a little premature to be getting out of the hospital already?" There was nothing but concern in his voice, and I appreciated it more than anything right now.
"I'm fine, but if the doctors find out about my recent genetic enhancement, I'll never get out of here." I was careful to stay quiet, especially when I said that, but I heard the door open and winced. The last thing I needed was a bunch of nurses telling me that I wasn't supposed to be out of bed, but that was exactly what I heard in chorus when they saw me behind the cabinet door. "I have to go sign myself out. Are you coming?"
"Of course. I'll be there in a few minutes." I snapped the phone shut and slipped it in my pocket. One of the nurses got brave enough to touch me in order to try and coax me back into my bed, and that's when I snapped. I pulled my arm away from her with some force and glared at the three nurses who had interrupted my getaway. I tried to relax and regain my composure, and my look had made all three of them freeze in their inane prattle.
"I'm not lying down. I'm not letting you put the IV back in. I'm signing myself out." They said something about having to wait for the doctor, which I wasn't about to do, and I went out the door and down the hall to the front desk. The woman there was trying to act like she wasn't staring as I scrawled my name in the sign-out list and wrote "AMA" next to it. Since when did medical advice matter to me? There were several other stares, and many of them didn't bother to hide the fact that they were staring at my head. So much for being bald as an adult being better than my experiences as a child. Women and bald didn't go together in small towns.
It didn't help that my shirt was falling apart. The right side looked like it had been clawed out by a wild animal, and that side of the collar hung down uselessly. The sight of Jonathan's red truck outside was something akin to a miracle, and I walked briskly out the door to flee my near-public embarrassment. Jonathan got out of the truck and pulled me into a hug. I still wasn't used to hugging people, so I tensed a little, but I finally relaxed in the bigger man's arms. "What the hell happened?" His pale blue eyes looked from my face to my tattered shirt, and I shook my head.
"The usual." I climbed into the passenger's side of the truck, which was difficult considering the height, but I managed to get into the seat on my own. I pulled the door shut and made sure to fasten my seat belt. The sound of the engine starting up made me jump, but I collected myself in favor of staring out the window. "I bought the Talon, and when I started up my car, the one next to me exploded." Jonathan's eyes widened in alarm. "I couldn't move or hear, so Nell Potter pulled me out. My Porsche exploded." What was my luck with Porsches? The car I had run over Clark with had also been a Porsche. It was bad luck.
"Good Lord," Jonathan muttered with a shake of his head. He was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the road, but it was bare of cars anyway. I pulled down the visor, flipped open the mirror, and positioned it to where I could see my neck. I carefully peeled the tape and gauze from my skin to see nothing but a smooth, pale expanse of brand-new flesh underneath. It wasn't even sensitive when I pressed my fingers into it experimentally. There were no injuries on my scalp either. It was a good thing that I'd signed myself out, otherwise the barrage of questions would've never ended. If the hospital was persistent enough, the government might have gotten involved. That was one big, hot mess that I was looking to avoid.
"Yeah. There's nothing like reliving the unpleasant sensation of having your skin burn off." I wasn't sure whether I wanted him to hear that, but he did. "What are the chances of Clark locking me in the farm and never letting me leave?" It was a depressing question, but I summoned a small grin as I put the visor back up. My smile faded when I remembered that Clark had apparently gotten wind of my accident, but he hadn't been at the hospital. That was out of character for him. The thought that, for once, he'd understood that I could take care of myself as long as I had time to heal didn't sit right with me. He had to be helping someone with something more important than my breakout from SMC. "Speaking of Clark, where is he?"
Jonathan shrugged his shoulders as we pulled into the driveway of the farm. "I don't know. After he told Martha and me about it, I thought he was going to go help. I haven't seen him since." That was doubly odd. Clark would know that the first place I would call in that situation was the farm. Jonathan and I made our way inside the house, and after I determined that Clark was still nowhere to be seen, I lay down on the couch in the living room and fell asleep.