He avoided the camera as usual and peered in.
There was no Lex.
This was rare unless Lex had decided to take a trip, and Clark was trying to remember if he'd knew anything or heard anything to the contrary when there was an ear-piercing scream coming from below. He'd automatically turned his hearing up when he'd decided to visit Lex and he was almost sorry he had.
He started flying in the direction when a second and then third followed. He wondered just what the hell was happening to the person that would allow them to scream that loud. Usually muggers and rapists forced their victims into silence, and murderers were a lot faster.
He arrived at American Metropolis Storage, an old goods storage warehouse that was closed for the night when a forth scream started.
He dropped to the ground and, seeing as how the windows were concentrically covered with lead shutters and some of the internal structure was done with lead, he couldn't see much of anything. The lead was the cork to his champagne, the one non-malignant thing that could deflect his powers. He couldn't bend it, melt it… or see through it.
Through the bricks he could see very little as the lead was built in a grid-like structure within the building, and had about a foot's diameter effect per each railing.
People, he thought. He could see them, fuzzy as they were. Men in suits never fit in a building filled with boxes and dust and rats.
By the start of the fifth scream he'd decided enough was enough and burst through the door. Not the ideal entrance but he needed to help the woman right away.
He found four men dressed in suits, packing, with wires in their ears.
There was a woman sitting in a chair with headphones on and a bottle of water in her hand, screaming her lungs out.
One of the men spotted Superman's entrance and spoke into his cuff. "Stop."
The woman jolted as if surprised to hear the voice through her headset, but stopped immediately. She opened her eyes and looked directly at Superman, smiling shyly. "Sorry. It wasn't my idea." Her southern accent and long blonde hair with silver-white stripes tipped Clark off to her identity.
Lex's newest right-hand woman. Not one he chose to sleep with -- he never slept with the ones that were anchored to his side -- but the one that replaced the brunette that had betrayed him and suddenly disappeared.
Clark's gut tightened from both the memory of the woman's disappearance and the impossibility of the current situation. "What the hell's going on here?"
The blonde stood up, flattening her palms against her tight white running tee down the front of her charcoal gray sweatpants. "Mr. Luthor wants to see you. He's beyond miffed at you."
Clark frowned, utterly bemused at the situation. "Well, I'll be sure to care in the next lifetime. The one where he's an honest businessman and human being."
"Honest?" came a cool, collected voice, a familiar voice. Clark got the chills, as he always did when meeting people he knew in real life -- as opposed to the Superman business -- but even more so because Lex was speaking to him. He hadn't done that in almost a year, and even then Lex was speaking to Superman again. Thanking him on national television for the great job he'd done protecting the city, and various parts of the world.
Clark cleared his throat. He was afraid that someone might finally recognize him, and if that someone was anyone it would be Lex. Years spent together in cornfields and at the mansion should assure that. Sometimes he hoped that Lex would, but this was not one of those times.
Clark steeled himself and turned around. He was sure he'd never be ready to face the sight of Lex Luthor. Not if he expected to have no reaction to the man's looks.
White satin shirt and ironed, creased black sacks. Gold silk tie. He'd ceased wearing purple a lifetime ago.
"Yes, Mr. Luthor. Honest. As in having integrity."
Lex nodded and Clark saw how absolutely infuriated the man actually was. He was loosing his cool, his hands were trembling just a bit, shaking the paper held tightly inside and his heart-rate was almost off the scale. At the same time Clark was worried about his health, he realized that there was only one thing that could possibly piss Lex off to lividness.
He knows. He knows it's me.
"Honest," Lex stopped roughly seven feet in front of him. "As in 'not telling a lie'… Right?"
Oh, God. Please don't hate me, Lex. I couldn't tell you. I just… I couldn't…
"RIGHT?!" Lex shouted and startled everyone in the room including Clark and Lex's new pretty little lackey.
Clark had never seen Lex this angry.
Lex could tell he wasn't getting an answer from Superman and he breathed in and out, trying to calm himself.
Clark took the opportunity. "Listen, I can explain, Lex."
Lex laughed, a little hysterically. "Lex? LEX? We're one a first name basis now?"
Clark frowned. "Well, I-"
"You're a bastard 'Superman'." He spit out the word like it was poisoning his mouth. "A lying sack of vindictive shit."
Vindictive?
"I actually believed you upheld those morals you and your fans are always spouting about. But I guess not, you spiteful fuck."
Clark was terribly confused. So this wasn't about him being Clark Kent/Superman? This was about… About…
"What exactly are you referring to?"
"This," Lex snarled and threw the paper at him. Clark caught it and looked. In the corner was his weekly column and for a moment he thought that maybe Lex really did know.
"Front page, hero."
Clark tried not to breathe an obvious sigh of relief and opened it to the front page.
LUTHOR'S ASTRONOMY DONATION:
TERMS INCLUDED
SW Clark Kent
"What the fuck is that?"
Clark looked at him blankly. "What makes you think I know?"
Lex looked down at his feet and laughed softly, dangerously. "Don't think I don't know you're Clark Kent's source."
His heart sped up at the mention of his name. His mind flashed back sadly to the days of their friendship. Skating, sledding, horseback riding, camping out under the stars. Lex doing everything in his power to make Clark happy, and Clark wishing he could do the same. So many not-so-innocent touches and pats and glances.
God, what he wouldn't do to bring it all back. To take the chance he'd so feared. Having Lex say no, having Lex disgusted at him was nothing like never knowing what could have been.
Should have been.
"Are you going to deny it?"
Clark thought for a moment. "No. I'm the source."
Lex's face grew outraged and he lunged after Superman. Clark flew up in the air, knowing that if he caught Lex, touched Lex after all these years, he would want to hold him. He would tell the man everything.
That could not happen.
Lex's red face looked up at him.
Jesus, he's mad!
"Get down here and fight me, you tights-wearing pansy!"
He'd never heard a less than scarring insult come from Lex.
He must be unable to think. That had to be a first.
"GET DOWN HERE!"
Though the deep voice sent a chill down his back, Clark crossed his arms, remaining visibly nonchalant. "I'd pulverize you, Le- Luthor."
There was a moment of disgusted silence. "You're a liar, Superman." The four men in suits surrounded an oblivious Lex and his blonde looked on intrigued.
Clark really didn't like her.
"I heard what I heard."
"Oh, really?" Lex snapped sarcastically. "And what was that? Exactly."
"You were telling Dr. Curfman where the money should go and what it should be used for."
"And that was?"
Clark stiffened. "I didn't hear that part."
Lex nodded. "So you automatically assume that it's for evil, right? That I haven't got a decent bone in my body?"
Lex snapped his finger and one of the men handed him a manila folder.
"This is for the record, Superman."
Clark hesitated, then flew down, feet lightly touching the ground. He took the manila folder, knowing that a few light years away, he would have found someway to touch Lex, even from that distance.
"And I want this given to the Daily Planet tomorrow, do you understand? I want you to take the heat for it, not Clark Kent."
Lex stepped closer and Clark stepped back on instinct. He'd never been the center of Lex's hate before and wished for the twentieth time that he wore a mask. He felt so naked and vulnerable and, well, like the farmboy he once was. Why couldn't anyone tell it was him?
"And you had better get your facts straight before informing Clark about my activities. I don't need another reason for him to hate me," Lex said and Clark could have sworn his voice cracked. There was a sadness, expertly hidden to anyone but Clark. "He's got plenty."
I could never hate you, Lex. Just worry for you.
But he had to play the part. Clark swallowed. "What do you care?"
There was a flash of something in Lex's eyes and his mouth opened.
"Kent's a reporter. Lex doesn't want the public thinking he's all bad, you moron."
Lex shut his mouth, saved from explanation and Clark now hated that
damned blonde woman with a vengeance.
To be continued...
