Clark touched down with his sleeping passengers at the small house in Shasta Lake. The windows were dark. Gently shaking Martha and Chloe, Clark woke them. "We're here," he said, knocking on the front door of the modest home.
Chloe rubbed her eyes. She seemed a lot more tired than she had when she'd been cajoling Clark back at Metropolis base. Martha seemed diminished as well, forced to waken just after slipping into sleep.
Clark knocked again. This time he heard an irritated grumble from inside, and footsteps approaching the door. A porch light came on, and Clark raised his eyebrows. They'd done well with the reconstruction, to have electricity.
"Who is it?" a cautious man's voice asked.
There was a moment of silence. Clark nudged Chloe.
"It's Chloe," she began, and then gradually acquired her usual confident voice. "We're here to celebrate Lois's birthday."
Clark heard bodies moving and Lois's voice, astonished, replaced the man's. "Chloe? What are you doing here?"
"I told you," Chloe said with the quick irritability of the intoxicated. "We're here to celebrate your birthday."
The door swung open. Lois viewed them, surprised and incredulous. She leaned forward and hugged her cousin. "Chloe! You're here! I can't believe it!" Then she looked up and saw Clark. She blinked in understanding. "Oh."
Martha took over with her usual cool decisiveness. "May we come in?"
Lois looked behind her, at someone Clark couldn't see. He automatically used his special vision, looking through the walls, and saw a man's figure well back of the door, archer's bow with strung arrow in hand. The man made a questioning gesture.
"It's Chloe," Lois began, obviously addressing her hidden companion. She still couldn't keep the happy surprise from her voice. "And Martha made it too. And Kal-El." The welcome had progressively leaked from her voice – she said "Kal-El" in a tone of flat neutrality.
"Please, call me Clark," Clark said, the spirit of deviltry returning. He was interested in meeting this Lois. He'd only spent a week or so with her. When he first came to this world, she'd captured him, to his dismay, and taken him to the Resistance. After that Clark had joined their forces and helped them to bring down Zod and Aethyr. He wasn't sure how Lois viewed him, but he counted her as a friend. At his trial, she'd had the guts to vote to take a chance on him. She'd been bold enough to trust.
He thought back to those days, right after he'd been released from his confinement. He'd gone to Lois afterward, speaking privately to her.
"I want to thank you for giving me a chance."
"How'd you know I did?" Lois challenged him.
Not wanting to admit he'd been eavesdropping and preferring to keep the fact that his hearing still worked even with the kryptonite handcuffs on a secret, Clark prevaricated with a terse comment of "Nose counting." He continued, "It's obvious that Baker and Rojas wouldn't have voted for me." Lois's half-nod confirmed that. "And I'm not sure about Martha or Lex. So you must have been on my side."
"I'm not on your side, Kal-El," she'd retorted. "But you kept your part of the bargain, so we had to."
"You didn't have to."
Lois stared back at him. She smelled afraid. Her heart raced. Clark realized he intimidated her. His large size, his Kryptonian-ness and his close proximity were all very scary. She didn't outwardly show her fear in the least. Clark would never have detected it without his special abilities. "Yes, I did." She took a deep breath. "Well, don't make me regret it."
Clark had only nodded and turned away. After that, Lois had left Metropolis base, and he hadn't seen her till now.
Chloe burped, and that broke the tension. Lois whooped with laughter. She didn't bother glancing again at the man in the house behind her before she ushered the three travelers into the house.
Clark came in last. The man, several strides away, hadn't put down his bow. Clark wasn't very surprised to see that the man was Oliver Queen, this world's version. Clark wondered if Ollie had started his hero-vigilante career as Green Arrow before the Kryptonians had come. Obviously, by his stance, this Ollie had the same archery talents as the Oliver in Clark's world.
Martha took over. "It's OK, Ollie," she said. "Clark's fine." Oliver gave Martha one long searching look, then did the same to Clark. Apparently reassured, he relaxed the tension on his bow and set down his weapon. He avoided the women, who had coalesced into a big group hug, and came forward to meet Clark. He stuck his hand out and looked Clark straight in the eye.
"Oliver Queen," the blond man said confidently. "With Chloe and Martha here so unexpectedly – " did a look of surprise cross his face? If so, it was subtle. "You must be Kal-El."
Clark took Oliver's hand and shook it. He missed shaking hands. People somehow tended to avoid shaking hands with him. Maybe they were afraid of having their arms ripped out of their sockets, as Zod had done on occasion. Clark had seen the nausea-inducing footage. "Technically, yes, but I prefer…I think of myself…..please call me Clark. Clark Kent."
Ollie's eyebrows rose. "Well, if that's what you prefer…" He took a look at Chloe and Lois, who were talking sixteen to the dozen while Martha stood back, smiling broadly. "You've made Lois's day." He fixed Clark with a gimlet gaze. "Why?"
"Chloe asked me." Clark shrugged. "I was at Metropolis base, and she asked me."
"How long did it take you, to run all the way here?" Oliver asked. Curiosity was evident in his demeanor.
"I didn't run. I flew."
"Lois said you couldn't fly."
"I learned how." Seeing annoyance on Ollie's face, Clark quickly added, "When Lois first met me, yeah, I couldn't fly then. I didn't pick it up till I'd been in this world a few months."
Ollie stared back at him. "You know, that's one of those statements that makes no sense at all."
Clark sighed. "What exactly have you heard about me?"
"Just what Lois knows. You're the Kryptonian who was supposedly raised here on Earth but it was some weird parallel Earth. Frankly, that sounded way out there. You fought with the Resistance when they took down Zod and then you promised – " Ollie curled his lip – "to be good."
Clark laughed out loud. He felt comfortable with this alternate Ollie. Both Ollies had that cocky confidence. Clark hoped he could be friends with this Ollie too. "That's about the gist of it. Hey, I'll tell you the whole long story if you want." Ollie made an interested noise. "But, seriously, the big thing to remember is that I'm sworn never to hurt anyone, and I'm here to help."
"Like Warrior Angel?" the blond archer started chuckling too. Clark's smile seemed to be contagious tonight. "You've sworn to use your awesome powers only for good?"
"I'm no Warrior Angel, but yeah."
Chloe interrupted them. "Clark!"
"Yes?"
"Pull out that bottle," she commanded. "We all have to toast Lois on her birthday."
"Oh—kay." He figured the last thing Chloe needed was more alcohol. But they weren't going anywhere and it was Lois's birthday, so what the heck. He rummaged in his backpack and pulled out the mostly-full bottle of white lightning.
Oliver took control, ushering them all over to chairs around a small table in a breakfast nook. Lois pulled some tumblers out of kitchen cupboards.
Clark handed Chloe the bottle. She picked it up and began pouring into one of the tumblers. She misjudged her aim and the raw alcohol cascaded down the side of the glass.
"Whoa!" Oliver said. "I think – " he deftly plucked the bottle from Chloe's wobbly grasp. He poured a shot into each of the glasses and set them in front of people. He picked up his tumbler. "To Lois – Happy Birthday." His eyes met Lois's, and their sappy smiles made it obvious that Lois and Ollie had a romantic thing going.
"To Lois!" everyone except Lois echoed. Oliver tossed down his drink in one swallow, as did Chloe and Lois. All three broke into coughs. Martha sipped hers slowly, smiling. Clark's glass stayed in his hand, the drink untouched.
"Clark?" Martha asked.
"It doesn't affect me anyway," Clark mumbled.
"That's not the point," Martha said acidly. Clark caught a glimpse of Lois's face before she schooled her features into impassivity – was that disappointment? Or hurt?
"Well, then, to Lois. Happy Birthday." Clark pasted a smile on his face, and drank it down. It tasted terrible. And despite his invulnerability, Clark broke into coughs too. He fought his way through the coughs to join in the singing that Martha started, "Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…"
Lois smiled reluctantly.
"Happy Birthday, dear Loooooiiiisss, Happy Birthday to you!"
"Bartender, another round," Lois said to Ollie, half-mockingly. He made a gesture. Chloe, Martha, and Lois shoved their glasses in front of Oliver. Clark followed suit, but only after Martha glared at him.
"Please, no more shots," he begged.
Lois looked at him, her face a study in incredulity. After a minute, she morphed into laughter. "What? No more shots?" After another minute, she doubled over, guffawing. "You can't handle shots?"
"Well, they taste terrible…." Clark knew he sounded like a wuss. "You're so much tougher than I am." Maybe flattery would work.
By now Chloe and Martha had joined in the laughter. "No more shots?" Chloe whooped.
"I, uh, never played drinking games," Clark said lamely.
Lois's eyes met Chloe's. "Well, it seems that it's our duty to further your education, Clark," Chloe said.
Lois chimed in. "Yeah. Let me tell you about a little game called Quarter Bounce."
It was an hour later and the party had degenerated to listless conversation. Fortunately for Clark, there really hadn't been enough of the homemade beer to get into a real game of Quarter Bounce (or any of the distressing number of other drinking games that Lois, Chloe and Oliver seemed to know. Martha claimed not to know any drinking games but she had a suspicious familiarity with the rules of any game proposed.) But those who sat around the table had definitely gotten well-lubricated. Except Clark, of course. He'd nursed his drink, not wanting them to waste any more of the alcohol on him.
Lois's inhibitions had relaxed enough that she'd demanded to see some Kryptonian parlor tricks. Clark had complied by levitating, then setting down beside Lois and asking if she wanted to go for a flight with him. She'd agreed without a moment's hesitation. He'd only flown them around the room, though. He noticed Ollie giving him a calculating look as he'd set Lois back down in her chair.
"You know what your problem is, Clark?" Lois asked drunkenly.
"No, what?" Clark said, humoring her. He could think of any number of problems that he had, starting with being stuck on this world.
"You look so normal…..like such a regular guy….and then you start flying. Or something." Lois waved a hand, consigning his other abilities to "or something".
"Thanks….I think. What's wrong with that?"
Lois slammed her palm on the table. "It's just wrong. Wrong." She took another sip of white lightning. "The others….they looked alien."
"Um…."
"You know, Lois has a point there." Martha entered the conversation. She'd been quiet all evening, nursing her drink almost as well as Clark nursed his.
"So I should look more alien?" God, please not that. He'd always ever only wanted to fit in.
"No, it's like…..you're the good alien, right?" Martha said in the tone of one who was trying to figure it out herself.
"Yes." Firmly, definitely. Don't let anyone get any questions about that.
"So you need to market yourself as the good alien. Have a brand identity or something."
"Kal-El. The Good Alien." Chloe giggled. "The new slogan."
Oliver grew interested. "Not a bad idea, Martha. When I was running Queen Industries, we spent millions of dollars every year on our brand. We had a logo, a motto, you name it. TV, radio, sponsorships….heck, one year we even paid groomers at the Westminster Dog Show to scissor it into the poodles. Both sides of the poodles. And some of the groomers used hair gel on the poodles to sculpture our logo in the hair and then they shaved away everything else."
"Didn't that mess up their show coats?" Chloe seemed appalled.
"No, no, no! They weren't in the show! These were poodles we'd paid – I mean, we'd paid their owners – to be there specially." Oliver wasn't quite sober either. "It was to advertise our pet food division. And the best part?"
"What?" Everyone asked.
Oliver smiled triumphantly. "We dyed them green. Queen Industries green – you know that shade?" Everyone nodded. "So we had a bunch of green poodles with the Queen Industries logo shaved or sculpted into their fur. We put them right in front. And everyone going into the dog show had to walk past our poodle parade."
"Your paid pomaded poodle parade," Martha muttered. She was very good at getting all the P's out, Clark noticed.
"Say that again," Chloe demanded.
"Um, I'm not a poodle," Clark said loudly, overriding Martha's mumbling repeat.
Oliver got a calculating look. "But you already have a brand. A brand identity?"
"What?"
Understanding flared in Chloe's eyes. "The El symbol!"
"What?"
"Clark, you're from the House of El, right?" Chloe had her "investigative reporter" look.
"Uh, yeah?"
"And your House has a symbol, right?"
"Yes…"
"It looks sort of like an "S" in a pentagon, right?"
"I know what my House symbol looks like," Clark snapped.
"Did you know that the Resistance was using it as their symbol? That was what we rallied under during the Occupation?" Chloe wasn't slurring her words at all now, and she smiled brightly.
"I think Lex mentioned it one time."
"Clark, you wear that, everyone will know you're OK."
"At least everyone who was in the Resistance," Lois said darkly. "Not everyone was in it."
"Piffle. Wear the symbol of your House," Chloe retorted.
Clark looked down at his plaid shirt. "Where?"
"You need a suit," Martha broke in.
"What?"
"You need a suit. You put your House symbol on the front of the suit. That's the other part of the idea." She smiled at Chloe, who smiled back. It worried Clark a little that the two of them seemed so telepathic together. Was that some new meta power they hadn't told him about?
"What kind of a suit?" Clark asked suspiciously.
"Well," Martha began, "it's got to be tight…."