Title: The SV-Files, Episode 104
Author: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG
Category: AU/Futurefic/Science Fiction/Action/Drama
Spoilers for: Zero
Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville-related, or related in any other way to Clark Kent, Superman or any of the various creations of the wonderful folks at DC Comics. The X-Files was created by Chris Carter and belongs to 20th Century Fox and Ten Thirteen Productions.
========
Lex and Clark sat outside the FirstBank on Kansas Avenue, quietly eating their burgers and fries.
"You're sure this is the bank the . . . phantom bandit," Clark snorted at the nickname, "is going to hit next?"
Lex nodded as he took a long pull of his soft drink. "It's the only one that makes sense. The burglar is working his way eastward across Kansas, only hitting towns with a population above 20,000; he breaks into the bank closest to downtown, staying away from the national chains."
Clark digested this in silence.
"Why'd you become an agent?" Clark asked suddenly.
"It was a week before my 18th birthday. I was young, stupid, thought I knew everything. Anyway, there was a girl. A woman, really. Amanda. I thought I loved her; she was engaged to a real piece of work named Jude Royce.
"Jude told her that he was going out of town on business. He actually stayed in Metropolis, doing 'business' with a couple of hookers he knew at a club called Zero.
"I knew where he was and what he was up to, so I took Amanda out for the evening, to Zero. As I'd planned, she saw Jude with the hookers, and all hell broke loose. Jude pulled a knife and stabbed me; Amanda got hold of the bouncer's gun, and . . . ."
Clark waited with bated breath for Lex to continue.
"I disarmed her. I didn't have any idea how I'd done it; I couldn't even move my left arm; you know that I'm left-handed. But somehow, I grabbed the gun from her hand with my non-dominant hand.
"I couldn't get over it. The rush of stopping someone, even scum like Royce, from being hurt. I changed my major to criminal justice, against my father's wishes, and after college I went to Quantico, to join the FBI. After graduating from the Academy, I heard about an opening with the KBI, and here I am.
"How about you?"
"Well, it all started with Jim Valenti. He was Lincoln County Sheriff . . ."
"I thought that was Pat Garret," Lex interrupted.
Clark grinned at the quip, "Lincoln County, Nebraska, not New Mexico, and in the 21st century, not the 19th. Anyway, he sort of took me under his wing, taught me how to fire a gun . . ."
Clark stopped when Lex sat forward in his seat, his gaze fixed on the bank. "Showtime," his bald partner grinned at him.
Clark and Lex hurried up the steps to the bank, pushing the unlocked door open as quietly as they could. The burglar stood in front of the vault door, which was bathed in a faint green light.
Lex drew his gun, but Clark, unarmed, stalked up behind the man, blond, and younger than he had expected him to be. Not any older than Clark himself. Not much older, anyway. Hoping that he wouldn't give away his gifts to the perpetrator, or to Lex, come to that, he used a quick judo throw on the young man, flipping him onto his stomach and twisting one arm up behind him.
The same queasiness that he'd felt in the watch factory when facing the Bug Boy hit again. It took all of his martial arts skill and discipline to fight it.
Lex ran up out of the shadows, pulling his gun on the hapless villain as a very relieved Clark stood. Moments later, the police streamed in. They handcuffed the burglar as they read him his rights.
"Neat move," Lex said admiringly.
"Jim, Sheriff Valenti, was my sensei, too."
"He taught you well."
"I moonlight as a ninja assassin," Clark joked.
"And a very successful one, I'll bet."
The next morning, they were in Assistant Director Prince's office, "Last night's mystery man was Whitney Fordman," she slid a file across the desk to the two agents.
As Clark watched Lex flip through the pages, Prince continued, "former Marine turned small-time crook. He apparently thought bank robbery was the way to easy street.
"His attorney has advised him to take a plea. Six months followed by five years on parole."
"Six months!?!" Lex burst out.
"That's a slap on the wrist!" Clark responded simultaneously.
Prince shook her head, "His record is clean of violent crime. The State wants to give him a second chance."
They got another couple of updates, then took their leave.
As they walked down the hallway, Clark stretched his hearing out and heard her pick up the phone. "I told them. No. They were not happy with the news." Then, bitterly, "But they'll just have to learn to live with disappointment, won't they?"
His attention was jerked back when Lex spoke to him, "Sorry?" He asked, having missed what Lex said.
"I asked," Lex asked patiently, "if you want to stop by the coffee room on our way back to the office."
Clark nodded his assent, and tuned back into Prince's office, but she was talking about something else, and he was left wondering who she had been talking to.
Author: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG
Category: AU/Futurefic/Science Fiction/Action/Drama
Spoilers for: Zero
Disclaimer: I own nothing Smallville-related, or related in any other way to Clark Kent, Superman or any of the various creations of the wonderful folks at DC Comics. The X-Files was created by Chris Carter and belongs to 20th Century Fox and Ten Thirteen Productions.
========
Lex and Clark sat outside the FirstBank on Kansas Avenue, quietly eating their burgers and fries.
"You're sure this is the bank the . . . phantom bandit," Clark snorted at the nickname, "is going to hit next?"
Lex nodded as he took a long pull of his soft drink. "It's the only one that makes sense. The burglar is working his way eastward across Kansas, only hitting towns with a population above 20,000; he breaks into the bank closest to downtown, staying away from the national chains."
Clark digested this in silence.
"Why'd you become an agent?" Clark asked suddenly.
"It was a week before my 18th birthday. I was young, stupid, thought I knew everything. Anyway, there was a girl. A woman, really. Amanda. I thought I loved her; she was engaged to a real piece of work named Jude Royce.
"Jude told her that he was going out of town on business. He actually stayed in Metropolis, doing 'business' with a couple of hookers he knew at a club called Zero.
"I knew where he was and what he was up to, so I took Amanda out for the evening, to Zero. As I'd planned, she saw Jude with the hookers, and all hell broke loose. Jude pulled a knife and stabbed me; Amanda got hold of the bouncer's gun, and . . . ."
Clark waited with bated breath for Lex to continue.
"I disarmed her. I didn't have any idea how I'd done it; I couldn't even move my left arm; you know that I'm left-handed. But somehow, I grabbed the gun from her hand with my non-dominant hand.
"I couldn't get over it. The rush of stopping someone, even scum like Royce, from being hurt. I changed my major to criminal justice, against my father's wishes, and after college I went to Quantico, to join the FBI. After graduating from the Academy, I heard about an opening with the KBI, and here I am.
"How about you?"
"Well, it all started with Jim Valenti. He was Lincoln County Sheriff . . ."
"I thought that was Pat Garret," Lex interrupted.
Clark grinned at the quip, "Lincoln County, Nebraska, not New Mexico, and in the 21st century, not the 19th. Anyway, he sort of took me under his wing, taught me how to fire a gun . . ."
Clark stopped when Lex sat forward in his seat, his gaze fixed on the bank. "Showtime," his bald partner grinned at him.
Clark and Lex hurried up the steps to the bank, pushing the unlocked door open as quietly as they could. The burglar stood in front of the vault door, which was bathed in a faint green light.
Lex drew his gun, but Clark, unarmed, stalked up behind the man, blond, and younger than he had expected him to be. Not any older than Clark himself. Not much older, anyway. Hoping that he wouldn't give away his gifts to the perpetrator, or to Lex, come to that, he used a quick judo throw on the young man, flipping him onto his stomach and twisting one arm up behind him.
The same queasiness that he'd felt in the watch factory when facing the Bug Boy hit again. It took all of his martial arts skill and discipline to fight it.
Lex ran up out of the shadows, pulling his gun on the hapless villain as a very relieved Clark stood. Moments later, the police streamed in. They handcuffed the burglar as they read him his rights.
"Neat move," Lex said admiringly.
"Jim, Sheriff Valenti, was my sensei, too."
"He taught you well."
"I moonlight as a ninja assassin," Clark joked.
"And a very successful one, I'll bet."
The next morning, they were in Assistant Director Prince's office, "Last night's mystery man was Whitney Fordman," she slid a file across the desk to the two agents.
As Clark watched Lex flip through the pages, Prince continued, "former Marine turned small-time crook. He apparently thought bank robbery was the way to easy street.
"His attorney has advised him to take a plea. Six months followed by five years on parole."
"Six months!?!" Lex burst out.
"That's a slap on the wrist!" Clark responded simultaneously.
Prince shook her head, "His record is clean of violent crime. The State wants to give him a second chance."
They got another couple of updates, then took their leave.
As they walked down the hallway, Clark stretched his hearing out and heard her pick up the phone. "I told them. No. They were not happy with the news." Then, bitterly, "But they'll just have to learn to live with disappointment, won't they?"
His attention was jerked back when Lex spoke to him, "Sorry?" He asked, having missed what Lex said.
"I asked," Lex asked patiently, "if you want to stop by the coffee room on our way back to the office."
Clark nodded his assent, and tuned back into Prince's office, but she was talking about something else, and he was left wondering who she had been talking to.
