Zero
"Hello?"
"Augh!"
"Lex?"
"Sorry. Needed to let off a little steam."
"Ooookay."
"What?"
"Well, you don't usually yell like that."
"I'm getting in touch with my more primal nature."
"Ooookay."
"How's life?"
"Doin' dandy. Harriet and Jane just left."
"What were you crazy kids doing?"
"Mourning our single status on this, the most important day of the year."
"I thought Valentine's Day was a fascist commercial holiday meant to drain the hope out of—"
"Shut. Up."
"Okay."
"Hey, I found a contractor for you."
"Thank God. That's what I was calling about."
"I thought you were calling me to ask how life was?"
"That, too."
"Is that what the yell was all about?"
"Lana Lang has been calling me every day, asking when I can give her a contractor."
"I thought you told her you 'had people on it,' or something."
"I did. I do. I have you. Remember, this budget's pretty tight."
"The last person you need to tell that to is me. Incidentally, I'm taking a share in this thing if it ever gets big. I don't want Miss Lang getting all the credit."
"She's the decorator."
"As long as Nasty Nell doesn't get anywhere near the design sketches."
"Deal. So who did you get?"
"Just some contractor who's willing to schlep out to Smallville every day for a month. Seems okay. He renovated some warehouse on the edge of Suicide Slums, and it looked all right."
"I was hoping for something a little higher-scale."
"Dude? Your budget calls for Crazy Al's Plumbing and Carpeting. This was the best I could do."
"Thanks."
"Glad to help. This is going to be interesting, a Luthor with a coffee house."
"Almost as novel as a Luthor with a functional family."
"Would you just call Dad and get whatever it is over with?"
"Stay out of it, Lill."
"Then stop getting your bad mojo all over me."
"Sorry."
"He's coming down tomorrow, around ten o'clock."
"Dad?"
"No, Paranoid Android, the contractor. Ten o'clock, don't be late, because he's a little snippy."
"Ten a.m.?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Well—this is Lana's project, and she'll still be in school."
"Lana?"
"Miss Lang's project."
"That's better."
"You should give her a chance; she's not as bad as you think."
"If she's genetically linked to Nell Potter, she's exactly as bad as I think."
"How bad is that?"
"Bad enough to be genetically linked to Nell Potter. Anyway, he'll probably be able to fix everything for you, but there's apparently an old saying that whatever your budget and time scale is, double it."
"I never heard that."
"Well, you've also never done anything like this before."
"I'm well aware."
"Relax, you're just the money. It's not your problem."
"It's my money."
"Yeah, but there's not much of it. You'll be fine. Just go put a towel on your head or something. I'll call the contractor and see if I can reschedule for after school lets out."
"Thanks."
"Bye."
*
Three weeks later
*
Beep. "Bumps, pick up. Pick up! Dammit, the one time I want to talk and you leave your cell phone—anyway, it's me, and I wanted to ask you what the deal is with the cows. Dad's secretary just called for him, apparently there was some kind of spill out in Smallville. Dead cows, I don't know. I don't want to sound too paranoid, but I have a feeling you're manufacturing this whole thing so you can weasel out of coming to the party. You have to come, and you have to wear the costume, and you have to give me presents. I got you a killer contract deal and you owe me so big-time, so get your toxic-spilled ass up here by six, 'cause I need help getting everything ready. Dad's not going to horn in on this, of course, since you two still aren't talking to each other, but I think it might be a good idea if both of you remember that the most important person tonight is me. Or I. Whatever. Be here. Bye."
*
Beep. "Hey, Bumpy, it's eight o'clock and you haven't shown up yet, so I'm calling to make sure you're really coming. Because if you don't, I'm driving down tomorrow with my rabid sewer rats and radioactive cockroaches. Um, almost everybody's here already, which is very uncool, but I think most of my friends have given up any and all pretense of being cool. Except for Bruce, who's trying to be cool and taking a left-hand turn at 'being freaky-deaky.' I don't think his outfit's helping, since he brought a big rifle and hasn't shaved for three days and looks like he's going to have an 'episode,' to quote Alfred, any second now. So… hurry up, because I want to open presents soon."
*
Beep. "Lex, it's Lilly. Listen, don't come. Get yourself somewhere safe—Charlie just called, told me about Kasitch and the hand and everything. Um, I'm really starting to get worried, so call me as soon as you can. Call me before you even call Clark—I just called the house, and they said he's been calling every hour or so, too. And I know you love him best, but still, I really need to hear that you're all right. I've sent everybody home, except Bruce and Alfred—they're staying for a few days, maybe. Anyway. Call. Soon. And after I know you're okay, I'm going to kick your ass so hard for not telling me about the… God, ew, the hand. Okay. Bye. Call me."
*
"Nice place."
"Thanks."
"That really wasn't a compliment for you."
"What, was it a compliment to the contractor?"
"Just because he was a homicidal maniac doesn't mean he couldn't put together a nice place."
"You're a bitter, bitter woman. So, you want me to introduce you around?"
"Nah. I think I'll just chat people up."
"Don't even think about doing what I know you're thinking about doing."
"What?"
"Clark's here."
"My, yes, he certainly is, isn't he? Looking pretty sharp, too."
"You don't want me to introduce you so you can do something mean, right?"
"Well, I didn't get to see you in the costume."
"I'm so glad I invited you to this."
"I'll bet you are. Later."
*
"Hi."
"Hi."
"Um, I know this sounds kind of lame, but do I know you?"
"I don't think so. Lilly, nice to meet you."
"Clark. Clark Kent."
"Right."
"You a friend of Lana's?"
"Oh, her aunt and my dad go way back, yeah. It's a great party."
"Definitely."
"Interesting picture Lana just put up."
"Yeah, actually, my grandfather took it, back when this place opened."
"The first time?"
"Yeah."
"Must've been a while ago."
"Yeah."
"You're not much for small talk, Clark Kent."
"Well, I'm not—you just look really familiar."
"I've got that kind of a face."
"Oh." Silence. "So, you live in Smallville?"
"I like to think of it more like a second home. It's a nice place. Kind of…"
"Small?"
"I was going to say something like 'scenic,' or 'quaint,' but your adjective works."
"Thanks. Um, so, you like it?"
"Smallville, or the Talon? Or the suit you're wearing?"
"Uh—um. All three, I guess."
"Smallville's great, the Talon's commendably rat-free, and your suit is too small for you."
"Yeah, I grow out of them pretty fast."
"Stop drinking so much milk."
"Heh. Um, I'm going to go get a drink. You want anything? Milk?"
"Was that a rib at my height, Clark Kent?"
"No. Yeah, a little."
"In my defense, everyone's Lilliputian next to you."
"Just as long as nobody ties me down in a field like those guys did."
"It'd probably be better than being tied up in a field."
"How did you—"
"Smallville, small town."
"Uh. Well, I'm going to get that drink. You sure you don't want anything."
"I'm sure. It was nice to meet you, Clark Kent."
"You too, Lilly…"
"Bye." Silence.
"I leave you alone for two minutes, you're stirring up trouble."
"I wasn't stirring up trouble. Is that my drink?"
"Yes. What?"
"Nothing."
"Oh, no. What did you say to him?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Lilly."
"Lex. Give me my drink. He's nice. I like him."
"So do I."
"Yeah, but I'm not writing 'I heart Clark' in my account book."
"They're computerized."
"'I heart Clark'?"
"The accounts."
"He's very…"
"Whenever you make that face, you're about to say something terrible."
"Quaint. He's very quaint."
"Quaint?"
"And scenic. You and he still on speaking terms?"
"I think so. He asked me about Amanda a few minutes ago."
"Yeah, I saw you go green at the gills. What did you tell him?"
"As much of the truth as I could."
"Poor Amanda."
Silence. "So, you want to go home?"
"I guess. Bruce is still there; probably—"
"I meant, Smallville home. Come on, I think Enrique even made up your room."
"Aw. Always a perfect maid, that Enrique. Don't you want to stick around, commiserate with Lana Lang about the grand opening?"
"Not particularly. Besides, I never gave you your birthday present."
"Let's blow this popsicle stand."
*
"Hee hee hee!"
"It's just a riot to you, isn't it?"
"Well, not so much the outfit, as the fact that you're wearing a bald cap with just a little bit of hair around the—"
"How could people think I look like Captain Picard? I don't look anything like him."
"Au contraire."
"What are you doing?"
"Getting my camera."
"Oh, no, you're not."
"Leggo!"
"What if I want to run for office one day?"
"Ow! Then you'll have to pay me a lot of money to keep these out of the public eye!"
"Lilly, don't you dare—"
Click.
"Neener neener neener!"
"You're… a dead woman."
"Set the laser on 'kill,' Scotty."
Silence. "That was the original cast."
"Scotty was in one of the episodes."
"For The Next Generation?"
"Yeah."
"He was?"
Click. "Hah! Yeah."
"I'm gonna—"
"Augh!"